Spectrum ⇒ Avengers [ 1 ]

Q1

"You okay?" A non-concerned voice asks me. My knuckles, white on the arm of the chair, clutch the fabric tightly. I turn my head fractionally to see Agent May looking at me with arched eyebrows.
"Haven't flown in a while." Understatement. The last time I remember flying must be over ten years ago. It's not like my aunt ever took me on any holidays- I wasn't her kid, why should she waste money on me?

"Keep swallowing." May says as she walks past me. "It stops your ears from popping."
It's too late for that, but I'm surprised at the advice, and manage a small, mouse-like squeak of "Thanks."

Cloud and blue sky turns into land- city, I think. I stare out of the window, trying not to think about the fact that I'm in, essentially, a flying tin-can, when something catches my eye on the ground below. "Is that-"
"New York, New York." Ward says, clapping me on the shoulder before sitting down himself. I jump slightly and scowl, but eagerly look back out of the window. For a moment, I forget why I'm here, what's happened, what I am, and take in the view of the cityscape below. New York- I never thought I'd ever go. One of the few things I do remember about the place is it's thriving Irish community. Plenty of immigrants ended up in the city, and stayed. Mum had always said we'd come here to see the Saint Patrick's day Parade.

The plane continued to fly over the city, and I yawn jet lag was obviously setting in, because it's daytime here and it feels like it should be night. I feel disappointment welling up inside me as the city fades away, giving way to empty land. At first, there's a few houses, but soon they disappear too.

"Final descent." May's voice crackles over the speakers. I stare at the ground. There's nothing here. Final descent towards what, exactly? That flies out of my mind as the plane tilts again, and begins to descend, picking up speed. My eyes close tightly and I try to calm myself- keep your heart-rate down- as the plane bumps slightly on the ground, going into a smooth acceleration on flat land. Cautiously, I crack my eyes open, and blink at the sudden appearance of smooth Tarmac, concrete buildings, and planes around what looks like an aircraft hangar. When I look back, I see a hill- a simple but effective way to conceal what looks very much like a military base.

Coulson stands and starts walking towards a door, and it takes me a heartbeat to realise I'm supposed to do the same. When I start to follow him, however, no one else does.
"You're not-" my unfinished question is met with head shakes. They're not coming. "Oh. Um-" I accidentally meet Fitz's eye. "I'm sorry for attacking you with the scalpel?" Both Ward and Skye laugh. "Um, I shouldn't have done that. I was scared, I'm sorry." Reluctantly, he looks up.
"'S alright. No harm down." He mumbles. Jemma beams.
I turn to go and then hesitate again. "And thanks for letting me use your plane, and- and not treating me like a freak, I guess." I look at Jemma awkwardly. "Good luck with your secret agent stuff." I mumble, almost sprinting out of the door.

The plane has a little- loading bay? Is that what they're called? There are several vehicles, including an immensely pretty red convertible that I'm about to touch-
"Don't touch Lola." I leap back. Coulson emerges from the shadows, Batman style, in sunglasses.
"Sorry?" I wince as the doors open, bringing a rush of cold air into the plane. My ankles, exposed from where I've had to roll up the sweatpants, are freezing. There's a woman waiting outside, her arms folded. I start to walk out, and then look back. "Agent Coulson?"
"Sorry Brynn. This is as far as I go." He takes a step towards me. "You've just been inducted into a Level 7 classified secret- I'm supposed to be dead." I stare at him. "And you can't tell anyone I'm not. Congratulations, kid," he actually smiles. "I think you're one of about twenty people who know."
"Oh my god." I manage. "Uh, okay, fine. You're dead. Absolutely." He pats my shoulder.
"Look after yourself, alright?" I nod blankly as he looks over my shoulder at the woman and waves. When I look back, she waves too. "Agent Carter will be your handler from now."

'Agent Carter' turns out to be Sharon Carter, an annoyingly pretty woman with a 'don't mess with me' vibe I'm starting to get off all the S.H.I.E.L.D agents. Her voice is crisp and forest green, and as soon as the plane heads of down the runway (with Skye waving out of the window) she starts walking at a pace I'm not really ready for.

"Welcome to Base 365, or as most people call it, Quarter 1 or Q1." She announces, her blonde hair bouncing on her shoulders.
"Why's it called that?" I ask, stumbling on the ground. It's lucky that the runway is so smooth, otherwise I'd be getting some serious cuts on my feet.
"It makes up one of four key bases around the world for superhuman or extraterrestrial threats," she announces. "This is the American branch, we also have one in Europe, Asia and Africa." Poor Australia- apparently it didn't stand a chance if aliens invaded there.
"What about Area 51?" I joke, staring around. It just looks like the average aircraft base.
"Unfortunately we had to move out after the Roswell incident- I believe the area is quarantined by the ECU-Extraterrestrial Control Unit." I gape at her. Wait, what?
"You're telling me-"
"You've been identified as a superhuman threat, but due to your association to Bruce Banner, we moved you to the American base for ease of proximity." She looks at me for the first time, and her face softens. "Director Fury will see you."
"I'm not a-" the word 'threat' dies on my lips. Not a threat? Who am I kidding? Of course I'm a threat, I can rip doors out of walls! Still, it hurts to hear someone else say it for me. "-uh, Fury?"
"The Director of S.H.I.E.L.D, yes." Agent Carter says patiently. I swallow.
"I don't suppose he's going to be the nicest person in the world, is he?"
"All I can tell you is this- good luck."

"Have a seat." 
I wasn't sure what I expected of Director Fury, but it certainly wasn't this. He's tall and imposing- that, I expected- with dark skin and a piercing look in his eye. Yes, eye- that's what's throwing me. The other's covered in an eyepatch, and even though it covers the socket area, his skin's marked with slashes and scars. Apparently, someone, or something, has clawed his eye out.

I sit carefully. His voice is grey, gunmetal grey, and I have the feeling that I should be very, very careful with this man.

"Do you know why you are here?" He asks. The office isn't huge, but it isn't small either. There are books in the shelves I don't dare try and catch a glimpse of, and the desk is mostly bare. Is the lack of ornamentation because he isn't usually here- or is it a reflection of his character?
"Because I'm a threat." I say, quickly adding on a "Sir." He sits back.
"Correct." The part of me that was hoping he'd deny this withers away. "But that does not mean that you are a criminal. However, living on this base will come with restrictions I expect you to follow."
"Living?" I blurt out. His single eye glares at me. "Sorry- I-"
"Yes, living, Miss O'Donnell. I'm sure you can understand why we can't put you in a safe house in the city, or let you go freely." His words sting me. "You will have your own room here. You will also be expected to attend lessons with a tutor every day, including weekends." My mouth drops open. "All meals will be taken on the base in isolation. If you follow these rules, you can begin to integrate with other agents on the base, providing it is safe."

I can't believe this. It's like the boarding school from hell. "But-"
"I'm not finished." I swallow and sink back down. "S.H.I.E.L.D is not here to babysit children, Miss O'Donnell. You will either be treated like an agent here, or a threat." The words hang over me like a storm-cloud. "That much is up to you. You will also be expected to take part in daily physical exercise sessions and regular health checkups, as well as a biological study." His gaze is unwavering. "A psychological evaluation will also be performed on you. And you will do everything your handler asks of you, do you understand?"
Mute with terror, I nod.
"I asked you a question, I expect a verbal response-"
"Yes! Yes, I understand." I snap, my hands shaking.
"Good." He studies me. "You'll be taken to your room now." I don't think I'll be able to stand, but I just about manage it, my head reeling. "Don't be an idiot, O'Donnell. This is for the best."

[ A/N: Brynn's finally in America! Unfortunately it doesn't look like it's going to be the most fun experience... Nick Fury isn't renowned for his friendly greetings!
Please vote & comment- let me know what you think! Do you like Brynn? What are your predictions for the book?
Question: Who's your favourite Marvel character? I think mine's probably a tie between Black Widow, Deadpool, Spiderman and Daredevil- I can't pick a favourite!
Thank you for reading my story- and special thanks to @luciacutie , who voted for it!]