Clara Lewis: S.H.I.E.L.D agent, New Yorker, accidental time traveller- wait what?!
Clara thought being a S.H.I.E.L.D agent made her life as crazy as it would get. Ever since her accident in the field, she'd become a desk agent but working as Phil C...
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Clara had no idea how she had found herself in the S.H.I.E.L.D storage unit. She had gone for a walk to clear her head and her new found clearance level 7 allowed her to go further than she had expected. It was dark and cold and everything echoed. Her soft footsteps resounded four or five times around the makeshift corridors. But she wasn't expecting to hear two sets of footsteps.
She froze. From her position she had a perfect view of the runway platform on the level above her where the footsteps were coming from. Soon enough, the person those footsteps belonged to came in sight. So did the spangled uniform. Clara was just about to announce herself when she saw Steve forcefully jank a box off the wall making an awful clattering.
"Captain, do you have authority to be here?" Clara asked. Steve spun around, taken aback.
"Do you have authority to be here, miss?"
"Touche." Clara admitted. "Care to explain?" She asked, gesturing to the box lying carelessly on the platform floor. He threw the box down off the platform and onto the floor. Clara took a hesitant step back. The box was quickly joined by Steve, who threw open the lid. He looked at her as if to say, 'see'. Clara looked back at him, they both shared the expression and doubts. How could S.H.I.E.L.D keep this a secret? The very reason they were all here was not to defend the Earth and get the Tesseract back to safety, it was to make weapons.
Steve strode into Banner's lab where Stark and Banner were looking quizzically at various screens and monitors. Clara was practically running to keep up with him. He slammed the box on the table and flung open the lid.
"Phase 2. S.H.I.E.L.D is making weapons from the Tesseract." Steve declared, his voice full of anguish. Somehow Fury must have known Steve and Clara's whereabouts as he conveniently turned up, Romanoff hot on his heels.
"Agent Lewis, I want you to report to agent Coulson on the main deck." Fury ordered, never for one moment breaking eye contact with Steve. Clara hesitated, wanting to defend her position, she was entitled to know what was going on, what was really going on. "Now, agent."
"Yes, sir." she answered bitterly and reluctantly left the room. On her way out she heard Steve's angry yelling and wished she were there to defend him.
It didn't take long to find Phil. Clara didn't say a word to him as she entered, she went straight to the table at the back and took a seat, slumping down into and propping herself up on the table with her elbows. Surely Phil couldn't know about this.
"Rough day, kid?" Phil asked, taking the seat opposite her.
"Don't patronise me." She retorted. They sat in silence for a while before Clara broke it with a question that had been plaguing her since she got there. "Why am I here, Phil?"
"Because we need you."
"Technically, I'm here as your personal assistant. My job is to bring you cups of coffee and take notes."
"You know it's no secret that I've been trying to get you back in the field and I-"
"I don't want to, Phil. I'm not ready."
"S.H.I.E.L.D is not ready to lose a valuable agent such as yourself. You're stronger than you know."
Suddenly, the helicarrier shook and Clara was thrown to the floor, her head colliding with the rim of the table on the way down. A billow of blackened ash and tendrils of fire shot up from the engine masking the floor to ceiling windows of the main deck. Everything went dark.
Through the earpiece she had received upon arrival, she heard Fury's alarmingly calm voice bark orders, none of which were addressed to her. In her state of panic, she doubted whether she would be at all useful. Perhaps Fury knew that.
Phil's orders- secure the lower levels and report to the armory- were simple enough but, Clara suspected, outside of her skill set. She hadn't been in the field for six years but now it felt like nothing had changed. She remembered the cries of the wounded all too well, she remembered every single person she couldn't save, she remembered how she had almost let herself get killed. She wasn't ready to go back but she didn't have a choice.
Phil had gone but Agent Hill was still barking orders in the main deck, relatively unharmed, save for a streak of blood across her cheek. Clara flattened herself to the floor as she somehow managed to hear Hill's warning "grenade" over the ringing in her ears. Everything was happening too fast.
The floor shook again upon the impact of the explosion. The engine failure made the floor tip and Clara was thrown downwards. The table didn't move but Clara did; there was no just but to be slammed against the cold metal. She held onto the table leg with all her strength to stop herself from going over the edge.
Clara had no idea how but the engine must have been fixed for the floor once again levelled. She was rolled onto her back where she lay, coughing and retching from her physical exhaustion. Her breaths came out shallow and tasting of the familiar copper of blood.
To her relief she heard the calming voice of Phil Coulson through her ear piece.
"Loki's free. Does anyone copy? I can stop him."
"Do it." Was Fury's reply.
Shaking, Clara stumbled to her feet, barely able to support herself. Phil had brought her with him on this mission and by God she was going to stay with him.
Making her way to Loki's cell was a trial in itself. Every other S.H.I.E.L.D agent was running away from it. Clara pushed her body against the flow of agents, forcing herself through then, despite their complaints and warnings, she was going to get there.
Phil was slumped against the wall with his eyes half open. Loki had not seen her yet, he was at the control panel to the cell which had dropped out of Clara's sight. To her pure joy, Phil spoke. He mumbled something incoherent and shot the overly large gun in his lap. A huge ball of orange static was fired from the end of what Clara could only describe as a cannon. It slammed right into Loki's chest, flipping him over and rendering him imbolible on the floor.
Without another moment's hesitation, Clara ran forward and knelt beside Phil as he rested back down and closed his eyes.
"Phil. Phil? Can you hear me? Talk to me." Clara stammered, her voice breaking pitifully. She pressed a finger to her ear piece and spoke as clearly as she could. "Agent Coulson's down...He needs medical attention."
Clara wasn't sure how long it had been before Fury arrived. She couldn't make out what he was saying and nor did it matter. He prised her hands away from Phil's lifeless body despite her protests and screams of anguish and despair. She felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her, holding her back from running to his side. It was Steve's voice: "Let go. He's gone. It's over."
Hey everyone!
Phil's death killed me! But Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D though! :)
