Chapter 5 - Mission

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-Jacqueline-

A piercing scream jolted me into awareness.

I searched frantically for the source, and in the distance to my left I saw two blurry bodies. I ran through the fog surrounding me to meet them, but immediately regretted my decision. A young boy, no more than eight years old, kneeled over the bloody corpse of a man wearing a black suit. A SHIELD uniform.

The boy's head slowly turned up to face me, and my eyes met his tear-filled ones. Those eyes then flickered to the gun in my hand before he spoke up with a shaky, faint voice that instantly made me sick to my stomach.

"Why did you do this? Bring him back!" He pleaded, his voice growing more urgent with each syllable. I felt every muscle in my body grow numb as I watched crimson liquid pool from the gunshot wound in the man's chest, and the boy seemingly stared into the depths of my soul as he waited for me to answer him. To fix what could not be undone.

"I-" I used what strength I had to attempt speaking, but the words struggled to come, hanging in the knots that had formed in my throat and chest. "I can't-"

I closed my eyes, willing the scene away, but I could still hear the boy as he began to sob. Get me out of here. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry...

When my eyes opened again, I was staring at the ceiling of a familiar place; my room at SHIELD. I let out a heavy, relieved breath and turned to check the time on the clock beside my bed.

6 a.m. I'd slept later than I had intended, although I wasn't quite sure if sleep was a blessing or a curse any more. The nightmares had continued to be more vivid as time went on.

As usual, I got dressed into the standard uniform for field agents and took the stairs a couple floors up to grab a quick breakfast before I headed to training. I spent that morning alone; Evangeline and Natasha were nowhere to be found, and neither was Clint. Of course, I knew Clint's schedule was for now keeping us separated, but the others, I had no clue. I assumed it was a sudden assignment or something of the like. Not unusual for any of us, although it was a bit strange neither of them had bothered to mention it. I didn't pay much mind to the fact however once I began training for the day.

For a while, I thought my efforts were useless. As if what I'd seen was true, no amount of training was going to save me this time. But I was quick to realize this wasn't just about me; it was about SHIELD as a whole, the team, Clint. And possibly a lot more people who didn't deserve the wrath of what was potentially coming to us. If I couldn't save myself, the least I could do was protect those I care about. The ones who had spared me all those months ago and allowed me to have this second chance in life. I wasn't planning to waste it, however short its length may be.

That was why I had asked Fury to adjust my duties and schedule to allow me more time for honing and perfecting my abilities. He had agreed it would be a wise time investment. Although I had managed to battle effectively in New York, my power still needed work. It had only been about six months since I'd discovered them at all, and there was still plenty for me to learn about the capacity and control of this ability.

I set the training floor before stepping inside; Stark had designed a program and given it to SHIELD for my use that would allow me to hone my skills without causing any actual damage, as we all well knew could happen. It was simply the nature of the power I possessed. It consisted of a special set of holographic, self-controlling targets that would be able to contain the energy I threw at them, as well as raising a temporary protective force-field around the room, in case I missed. SHIELD likely wouldn't want to pay for any further damages I could cause, like the gaping hole in the wall from when I'd still been a prisoner on the Helicarrier.

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