This is probably one of the longest things I've ever written. The prompt really doesn't come into play, it just gave me an idea and I rolled with it. Maybe I'll come back and touch on it later. Let me know what you think and I'll add it to the list.
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America squinted through the dust that kicked up around his car as he drove through the sparse New Mexico backroads. Up ahead was a worn fence, littered with rotted holes and moss, connected to a chipped barn with an equally chipped house a few yards off to the side. The property was surrounded by nearly a dozen cars and a rusted tow truck with unintelligible writing along one side. A true testament to his government's financial prowess.
He pulled up behind one of the cars and got out, slamming the door behind him, coughing as a cloud of dust sprung off it. He brushed off his clothes as he approached a man in a sharp black suit with thick sunglasses framing his eyes. Although they were part of the uniform, Alfred couldn't help but curse himself for not thinking to bring his own pair to ward off the bright desert sun. "Director!" He announced, holding out his hand as the man looked towards him.
"Mr. Jones," the director of the C.I.A greeted, capturing the blond's hand in a firm grip, "It is a pleasure to see you. I did not know you were coming."
"I'm just here to help where necessary," he responded as the director began leading him around back, "But if you ask me, I think they're just trying to keep me busy."
"What?" the director chuckled, throwing a quick glance back at the blond, "You don't think we need your help with this little 'weather balloon' crash." America could barely see his wink behind the glasses, but it was there nonetheless.
"Well, I reckon this ain't no ordinary weather balloon crash. Now is it Director?" He joked back, "You'd have already told me to stand by if it was." The director shook his head and sighed as he parted a gathering of silver sage. He reached his arm out past it, gesturing to something on the other side.
"Well, there she is," he announced. As Alfred made his way past, he was met with a large twisted hunk of metal lodged firmly in between some sandstone and creosote. While one could say it was weather balloon-shaped, if they stood back a few yards and squinted, the thing in front of him was most certainly not a weather balloon. The metal shimmered with an iridescent sheen in hues of greens and blues, and if one looked close enough, they could see the mangled remains of a few odd levers and buttons. Upon looking closer, the inside of the crash seemed to glow from an unknown source.
The director guided him over to a small group of men huddled under the shade of a marquee. They surrounded a large device, likely salvaged from the wreck, occasionally turning from it to jot something down. "Sirs!" The director shouted as they approached, halting the hushed conversation, "May I introduce you to Mr. Alfred F. Jones. He's here to help you with your research should you need it." The men glanced at each other, wondering who would approach the new arrivals before one of them stepped forward. He was a young man, of perhaps thirty, that seemed to curl in on himself. His exhausted, deep-set eyes studied them from behind a crooked pair of wire-framed glasses.
"I'm sure we can find some use for your assistance Mr. Jones. It's a pleasure to meet you," The man greeted, holding his hand out before remembering it was covered in grime and tucking it awkwardly against his side.
"Likewise Mr-"
"Markell," The man offered.
"Mr. Markell," America finished, "I am looking forward to working with you. All of you," he said, gesturing to the others under the marquee.
"Well," The director announced, "It seems you're all set. Now, if you don't mind, I need to head back to the house." As he began walking away, America and Markell bid him goodbye.
Markell led him over to a table with rolled up scraps of paper spread across it. "Now," he started beginning to unroll some of them, "We can't do much until we get it back to the lab. The most I'll have you do is search the rest of the crash site." He gestured to a rough map as he began to explain, " We already have Dr. Cane in the North West and Dr. Raoul in the North East, but our site stretches a mile in either direction. If you don't mind, I want you to search the South East section and find anything to bring back to the lab," he gestured at a part of the map that contained a small marking for an old shed. He then reached for another sheet of paper and a pen. "If you find anything, be sure to mark what it was and where you found it on this map," he explained, handing the paper and pen over to Alfred.
"Of course," Alfred agreed as he tucked the items in a pocket of his bomber jacket, "is there a certain time you would like me to be back?"
"Sunset at the latest. Someone will be here for debriefing, then you will be free to go," he responded, "Of course, if you do find anything, call us on this." Markell handed him a walkie talkie before wishing him good luck and heading back to the strange object. Alfred quickly stuffed the walkie talkie in his pocket before heading off.
A few hours had passed before Alfred found anything of note. The South Eastern portion was barren save for a few clusters of grass speckled here and there and the occasional bush or rock. He had passed the run-down shed about an hour ago, and the cattle were still in the barn while the agents were investigating the crash. Thus when he caught sight of a gray blur moving in the corner of his eye, he was immediately drawn to it. It was much too big to be a snake and did not have fur like a mammal. It was hunched in a crevice of a boulder, only occasionally moving to look around.
Alfred carefully approached it, slowing as he got closer. "He-Hello?" he stuttered, squatting down a few feet from the creature.
The creature jerked suddenly, pressing itself against the boulder behind it. The movement startled Alfred, but he recognized the sign of fear and pushed down his own reaction. "Who or... what are you," he asked softly, not daring to raise his voice above a whisper. It just stared back at him with wide, terrified red eyes. Neither dared to move for some time, but it was the creature that spoke first. Its' high, almost squeaky voice seemed to ring in Alfred's head as it chimed,
"I'm Tony." Alfred startled at the sudden noise, likely as the creature, or alien, or... Tony had when he had first spoken just minutes before. His mouth moved in silent, barely coherent phrases before he was finally able to speak.
"I- I'm Alfred," he stuttered, "Is that thing over there your ship?" He tilted his head slightly to wards the crash site.
"Yes," Tony responded in that same high pitched echo, "I do not have the resources to fix it. Your planet is behind mine." Alfred rubbed the back of his head as he tried to think of what to do next. Had he found any chunks of metal or other extraterrestrial like objects, he might have turned them in. Yet, Tony was a living breathing creature. He couldn't promise the other's safety with his government's current experiments. Tony didn't deserve that.
"I guess," Alfred started, barely glancing at the other, "you could stay with me until you can find a way home. Can't do much about your ship. You probably won't get it back if they have anything to say about it."
"They?" Tony asked, tilting his head slightly.
"Yeah," Alfred sighed as he moved to a more comfortable position, "My government likes to take anything odd or abnormal and hold onto it until they understand everything about it." Tony just hummed in response, allowing himself to move slightly from the boulder.
"I would like to stay with you," he said suddenly, responding to Alfred's earlier suggestion. Alfred turned to the alien, smiling brightly.
"Awesome!" He chirped, shooting up. The alien startled at Alfred's sudden enthusiasm causing a blush to spread across the nation's face. "S- sorry," he chuckled, "Just got a little too excited there." Tony just hummed in response. "If you come to the edge of the ranch with me, I'm sure we can find a place for you to hide until I can come get you," he said, offering a hand to the other. The Alien accepted, allowing the nation to pull him up, and they both went on their way.
