The Shadow [a marvel fanfiction]

Avengers: Chapter Four

Marie bolted upright, eyes wide and heart racing. It felt like she was falling. Again.

She wheezed and clenched the sheets in her hands. All she could process was the white room around her: white walls, white sheets, white lights. Marie screwed her eyes shut and wrung the sheets tighter, forcing herself to breathe deeply and slowly.

She wasn't in her cell. They wouldn't put her back in there. They wouldn't do that. Agent Romanoff wouldn't let them. Marie wasn't a threat anymore. She was an agent. She had to be somewhere else. It wasn't the room. It wasn't the room.

The panic loosened its grip on her. Marie forced herself to swallow past the lump in her throat and carefully opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was the door. And the window. And the lack of bindings.

Marie let go of the damp, sweaty sheets. She leaned back in the hospital bed, her heartbeat steady but her mind racing. She fell out of a plane. Who falls out of a plane? How does that happen?

I am an absolute moron.

Marie groaned and covered her face. She didn't want to know what the others thought of her. One failure after another—at this rate, Fury was going to throw her back onto the streets. Training didn't do her much good.

She was still in her uniform; her dirty, torn uniform. Grime and dry blood collected under her nails and a bandage was wrapped around her forearm. Her fingers twitched and her skin itched with a burning need to rid herself of the remnants of her failure.

Marie rolled off the bed and stumbled to the sink in the corner. She scrubbed at her hands until they were raw and rinsed them under scalding hot water; watching the brown suds slide down the drain. She splashed her face with water and carefully prodded at her cheek, cursing Loki's scepter.

Cutting off the sink, Marie became aware of the silence that filled the room. Thoughts buzzed louder in her ears. She remembered the sound of people screaming and Loki's laughter; his low tone and sharp words; the screech of metal as the Captain's shield scraped the ground and the hum of Iron Man's repulsors and the crackle of the scepter's energy.

The sounds changed. The low murmur of voices in the next room and the roar of shouting; the soft whispers and the gentle yet cold touches; the sharp cries that rang in her ears and the never-ending throb of pain and the wetness of her cheeks and the hollowness of her body.

Marie jolted out of her thoughts. She tugged at the ends of her hair and pulled at her scalp until it ached. She can't go there. She can't fall into that spiral of memories. She can't remember, or she'll never stop.

"I need-I need to get out of here," she breathed and shattered the silence.

Marie walked quickly through the halls, her hands still clammy and trembling. She curled them into fists and concentrated on her destination. The others would be at the bridge; the bridge with lots of people and lots of sounds and lots of distractions.

"Let me know if 'Real Power' wants a magazine of something."

Her pace slowed at the sound of Director Fury's snarky voice. She inched towards the doorway and peered in. Doctor Banner, Captain Rogers, Agent Romanoff, and Thor stood around the conference table and watched a monitor. Loki sat in a giant glass cell, watching Fury leave.

Marie hesitated. These were all tall, strong, confident adults chasing down evil and fighting for justice. And Marie? She was seventeen and somehow fell out of a plane.

Approaching footsteps and Stark's voice had Marie turning. The billionaire walked with Agent Coulson, chatting earnestly.

"I'll fly you there, keep the love alive." Tony Stark's eyes zeroed in on Marie.