✓ ❘ 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐈𝐈: 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 ─ 𝐁. 𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐄

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪɪɪ - ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ: ᴡᴇʟʟ, ɪ ᴍᴀʏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ғᴀᴋᴇᴅ ɪᴛ

I wasn't the type to get nervous. Never have been. Regardless of the type of situation I found myself in, I would never feel a tremor in my hands, or a bead of sweat rolling down my temple – it just wasn't me.

But that all changed the moment I set foot back inside S.H.I.E.L.D HQ. As my feet carried me through the familiar hallways, just as they had done a thousand times before, I felt an overwhelming flood of anxiety rush through me.

Every single person I passed by stopped walking, or paused their conversations, or dropped their coffee cups at the sight of me. Me, who was supposed to be dead. I paid no mind to them, though. After all, they meant fucking nothing to me, and they most definitely weren't the reason for my unsettled nerves.

She was.

As much as I was looking forward to seeing her again, I knew that the feeling would not be mutual. How could it be? I faked my death, left her alone and lied about it for eleven months.

I wouldn't be surprised if she murdered me right on the spot.

I was forced to shove my anxieties and qualms to the furthest, darkest corner of my mind, though, because I had made it to my destination. Thank fuck for that – I really didn't like feeling nervous.

Alright, to be fair, I didn't like feeling anything – but especially that. It's not a good look for me.

My ears pricked up at the sound of movement on the other side of the metal door I was standing in front of. I heard her voice, and my head went into overdrive, a billion thoughts clawing their way to the front of my mind.

Closing my eyes, I had to draw in a couple deep breaths to refocus myself. When I opened them again, I was back in full-on agent mode.

Because I couldn't afford to be anything other than the cold-hearted bastard everyone knew me to be. I couldn't. Not even in this situation. Not even for her.

There was a bigger picture – a much bigger one – and it called for Agent Urie, not Brendon. I couldn't be the person I knew she wanted me to be.

Because protecting her was far more important than getting her to forgive me.

There was a mechanical whirr as the door began to open, and I exhaled through my nose as I prepared to step into the next room.

She was the first thing I saw through the opening as I slowly walked forward, and I couldn't for the life of me draw my attention away from her. Didn't want to, either.

I knew that my expression was unreadable (it always was) but hers was precisely the opposite. I saw her go through the full spectrum of human emotion in the short span of ten seconds as she struggled to make sense of what it was that she was seeing.

It was another thirty seconds before she spoke.

"Oh, my god..." she whispered.

Okay, so she hasn't started yelling yet. Good. Fantastic. We're off to a great start.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" I called to her, "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Yeah, if she had any doubts that it was actually me, pretty sure that my douchey comments erased them all.

I kept my eyes trained on her, watching as she took one slow step backwards, holding one hand out in front of her defensively as she turned to look at Fury as if to say "what the fuck".

"Who the hell is that?" she demanded.

My brow creased infinitesimally.

What do you mean 'who the hell is that'? Who do I look like, the fucking Easter Bunny? That was a pretty stupid question, (Y/N); have you been hanging out with Corvey again?