I Am Circuit

Epigraph: 0-8-4

0-8-4: An object of unknown origin, detected by the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division, otherwise known as SHIELD.

0-8-4 was a rarely used code.

No-one really even remembered the last time it was used.

Until somewhat-newly-appointed Director Nick Fury got word of an electrical fire in a laboratory, killing everyone. Everyone except the little 12 year old girl in the centre of it.

He sent Agent Phil Coulson with a small team to determine if the girl was a threat.

When the team arrived at HAAS laboratories, fire crews had put the fire out. But still a young girl of 12 sat there. She was in the corner, curled in on herself, blonde hair matted and tears staining her pale cheeks.

But neither of these things were what alarmed Agent Coulson the most.

She lay there, sparks of neon blue electricity jumping sporadically from her body, clutching a piece of metal to her left temple. It was only as he walked closer that he realised she wasn't holding it on place - It was surgically implanted.

That alone made him want to get the kid out alive.

He glanced at the STRIKE team dotted around the destroyed lab, "Stand down."

"But, sir--"

"I said stand down!" He insisted, "That's an order O'Connor. Weapons down. No one fires on that girl."

And he watched as, one by one, each of the agents lowered their guns.

"Hey, kid," he gave a little, warm smile, as he cautiously approached the young girl, "My name's Phil. What's yours, sweetheart?"

She lifted her head a little, daring to open her doe-like eyes, her bright, electric blue irises showing, "I--I don't know... Th--They--They didn't tell me... I just--I just woke up, and there were--There were all these wires, and electric things! An--And I--I just got scared!" The young girl began to shatter before his eyes, starting to panic more and more, "I--I'm sorry, I didn't mean it! They--They scared me!"

"Hey hey hey, shhh," he cooed, "It's alright, kiddo, we won't hurt you. Do you remember anything?"

And she just shook her head, like she was frightened to say more.

"How long ago did you wake up?"

She shrugged, "Just... Before the fire... What did I do?" The girl broke into a fit of sobs.

"You didn't do anything, kid," he offered a comforting smile, "You didn't start the fire."

"Yes, I did!"

He just looked at her. Whether in pity, fear or shock, she couldn't tell.

"I--I just wanted them to stop," she cried, "Prodding and poking, all the needles, all of it! I just remember the--the pain, in my head... And the crackles, like electricity... But the sparks--They--They came out of me! What did I do? What am I?" By now, she was screaming, hysterical.

And Phil couldn't blame her.

"Everybody leaves this facility right now." Agent Coulson ordered, but no one moved, "Back to the cars, that's an order! Go!"

Gradually, anyone else began to filter out,  each agent casting weary glances to their Senior Officer.

"Just you and me now, kid." He told her, sitting on the ground next to her.

She risked another glance up at him, the sparks slowly ebbing away, as the threat around her became less and less, "Who are you? Why are you here?"

"My name's Agent Phil Coulson," he answered, "I'm with an agency called SHIELD. My boss sent me to find out about the fire."

"I--I'm sorry," she stuttered, "I didn't mean to..."

"I know," he cooed, "I know you didn't. But we need to find out what to do with you. How to help you."

The girl looked around nervously, as she started to relax a little more, "You--You wanna help me?" She asked. Not 2 minutes before, she'd had half a dozen assault rifles pointed at her, now the man who had made them stop actually wanted to help her?

"Course I do," he confirmed with a small smile, "Get you used to life, teach you how to use your powers. You up for that?"

"I'll do anything!" She nodded, eagerly, but her new smile soon fell, "But what if I hurt someone? I don't wanna hurt anyone..."

"That's why we're gonna train you," he told her, "Teach you how to control it."

He didn't see any sign of not wanting to go.

"First, try and dial down the sparks so we can blow this popsicle stand." He didn't know if it would work. The kid clearly didn't know what she was doing, "Just take a deep breath, relax, and focus on them going away."

After numerous attempts at trying to not get worked up (and failing miserably) she took a deep, if shaky, breath. She watched with a small smile, as the electrical sparks faded to nothing but the odd stray spark from her fingertips.

Maybe, just maybe, she could do this.

Phil lead her out to the cars - the black SUV he frequented, and a black panel van, that the STRIKE team came in.

"This is a car," she muttered, but Phil heard, and turned to her, wide-eyed. This kid was going to have to learn so much, "It's weird... I know what it is... But I don't know how I know. I don't remember seeing one, but I know what it is..."

Memory wipe. That was the first thing that came to mind.

"We'll figure it out, kid," he promised, before turning to the agents, who stood around the panel van, talking - Probably about how they thought Coulson was losing his mind. "Load up. Back to base."

So, without question, the six agents did just that. They clambered into the van, and began the 3 hour drive back to base.

Coulson opened the passenger door, and ushered the girl inside, before closing the door and getting in the driver's side, and starting the ignition, "You really can't remember anything, huh?"

She shook her head, "Flashes... I think they called me Seventeen. Or Electric, if they wanted... Nothing before the lab, though..."

"Electric?" He repeated, as though he was deep in thought, "Electra? How about that?"

She glanced at him through her matted hair, "What? Like a name? My name?"

Phil gave her a small smile, nodding in confirmation, "Electra Smith? Electra Jones? Electra--"

"Electra Jones," she smiled, a shy smile, which gradually grew into a grin, "I like that name - Electra Jones."