VAIN | Inside the Universe

Chapter Thirteen • Haunted Company

W A S H I N G T O N D . C .

"This is the most depressing place you could have ever brought me."

I continue my walk through the hospital halls rather reluctantly, dramatically maneuvering myself around anything that could possibly touch me. My enhancements ensure that I'm resistant to life threatening disease like cancer, but, oddly enough, I'm still prone to the common cold. And there's nothing I hate more in this whole damned world than being sick.

Nat walks like she's on a warpath. She moves with no regard to those in her way, each step assuring her steadfast dedication to fulfill whatever mission she had been given. Meanwhile, a nurse grazed my shoulder in passing and I literally shrieked.

She smirks back at the reaction before quickly loading her eyes with targeted bullets again, as if she had misplaced too much of her attention already. "This just screamed 'Welcome Home' louder than a candlelight dinner."

"You treat me so right." I murmur under my breath as she rolls her eyes, having indulged my sarcasm longer than she had time for.

"Two more wings." She reaches over to my cap to pull it farther down my face, as if she had noticed a red sniper target on my forehead. "Can you hide yourself a little better? I don't want bullets flying through the windows."

"I'm sure this place would be cheering me on. It looks like everyone here wants a premature death. Stat." She swings her arm to hit me in the stomach, causing me to fall a step behind her stride. I slightly hunch at the hit, letting out a subtle groan. "I'm kidding!"

I adjust my coat collar and take out my heavily tinted glasses as I meet back with her fast pace. It was a risk being on Earth again, let alone Washington D.C., but Natasha was uncharacteristically anxious. I have no doubt it's for good reason.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on now? I don't want to be left out of any chance to feel bad for myself."

Her eyes stay focused as we round a corner, but it was evident her mind wasn't as prioritized. I watch as her lips make attempts to part, battling with herself on whether or not to speak. At last, she let out a soundless sigh with the weight of her conscious behind it, working against herself not to choke the words back down her throat.

"He's back."

I shut my mouth. There were far too few things that could muster up so much emotion from her, and if she would ever show such distress she would make sure it were for good reason. It is true that our bullets aim for targets in our present as much as they do to those in our past, but it is just that that makes our past one of the most oppressive authorities. It rarely lets us go.

I nod, assuring her silently that there is no need to dwell on it. I could almost see a little sign of relief as she changes the focus, having regained herself back after that fleeting moment of vulnerability.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. has been compromised. A conspiracy group has been operating within the woodworks. Some members, if not most, are very high up in rank."

We round a second corner, looking over our shoulders to ensure our anonymity. Her pre-existing whisper gets softer.

"A S.H.I.E.L.D. vessel was attacked by a group of pirates a few days ago. A team of us were sent to free the hostages, and that's when it was discovered that all S.H.I.E.L.D. intelligence was stolen, wiped clean from the ships database."

"Do you have an idea of who took it?"

"I did."

"Right, of course."