Chapter 1

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A/N: Troyes, France is 6 hours ahead of NYC so 7pm there is 1pm in NYC. We will get more of Eight's backstory in future chapters. Also, Nat is eventually going to give Eight a nickname that will basically become her name so if you've got ideas lmk!
*This is my first ever fic and I wrote it at 3am so bear with me

WARNINGS: swearing; mentions of weapons; violence; panic attack; anxiety; my crappy writing; and I think that's it (lmk if there's anything I should add)

Barcelona, Spain; January, 2012
The repetitive ticking of the clock registered in my brain before my eyes even opened. I didn't need that clock to know what time it was, of course. It was 4:30 am- the same time I've woken up everyday for the past twenty-five years of my life. I no longer need to wake up this early, yet it's a habit so deeply entrained in my framework that it's seemingly unbreakable. I roll out of bed and make my way into the dingy kitchen with light footsteps. With some quick math I figured that I got barely two hours of sleep last night, but that's more than usual. I started the coffee machine and asked with a sigh, "Would you like some coffee or are you just going to lurk in the corner?"
The leather-clad stranger with an eyepatch stepped up to the kitchen island opposite of me and responded, "I wouldn't mind a cup. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you knew I was here."
"Well, you know what they say about old habits. You got a name?"
"You can call me Fury. We have a lot to talk about, Eight." I slid him a mug of cheap coffee and gestured for him to take a seat.
"Then we'd better get started so you can get the hell out of my apartment." He simply chuckled in response and I could already feel my patience wavering.

Two Hours Later:
"Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division? Really, dude?"
"Yeah, it's a mouthful. Trust me I know."
"I'm sorry that you came all this way for nothing, Fury, but there's no way in hell I'm working for some government spy circus."
"It's technically an extra-governmental spy agency-"
"Doesn't matter. I'm not joining," I said, cutting him off.
"So, you're just gonna hop from one shitty apartment to the next until you die? That doesn't seem like a great life."
"Better than the one I lived before."
"You aren't the person to live in hiding. You're the person who thrives in the action and lives to kick ass, and we both know it." When I didn't respond he continued, "I'll leave you my card. When you change your mind, which you will, you'll know where to find me. You don't have to be the bad guy anymore, Eight." With that he slid off the stool and left my apartment, leaving me with nothing but my rapidly spiraling thoughts and a black business card.

Troyes, France; May, 2012:
It had been four months since Director Fury came to my apartment in Barcelona. We'd kept in contact and he hasn't given up on me joining S.H.I.E.L.D.. I've been living in the third apartment since then. Wow...those landlords must really hate me. I was watching the seven o'clock news when I saw something that made me choke on my Cheerios. "An alien invasion?! What the fu-" My Cheerio-muffled exclamation was interrupted by the ring of my burner phone. "Hello?"
"Eight, you watched the news recently?"
"Uh yeah, I'm watching it now. You fighting aliens now, Nicky?"
"Okay first of all, I told you to stop calling me that. Second, yes... aliens. I'm forming a team of...extraordinary people to help protect against these threats and they could really use a hand to finish off this fight."
"I may be weird as hell but I ain't 'extraordinary', Fury. I don't wanna join your band of misfits."
"Alright, how about a compromise? You fly your fancy jet here right now and help them out and if you still don't wanna join, you can go right back to France after the fight is over and I'll stop bothering you about joining." After a few seconds of silence I agreed.
"Fine, but I'm not gonna change my mind. Wait, how do you know about my jet?"
He gave a hearty laugh and said "I know everything, Eight. You should know that by now."

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