Back in Time
Amara woke up.
She hadn’t been expecting that.
The last thing she remembered (aside from the thing she refused to remember), was swirls of black and fire and the sound of her own screams tearing out of her lungs. After that… nothing. Now, she was staring up at a white ceiling. An unfamiliar white ceiling. Had it worked? Amara shifted a little to better examine her room.
Dated, clearly, with machines she’d only seen in history books. Windows with venetian-blinds, odd wall color, overall pristine appearance… It was the beeping machine that clued her in. She was in a hospital. An old time hospital. Oh my God… she stared at the TV mounted in the corner, playing some kind of soap opera.
You did it, Stark. You actually did it. There was a pang in her chest. She wasn’t ready to remember that yet.
Slowly, Amara pushed up against her bed. Nothing seemed to be hurting too much, aside from her head. It’d be best if she went on her way. She had to find the Avengers, after all, tell them about Thanos’s plan as soon as—
“Oh my gosh, you’re alive!” Before Amara could intubate herself, a dark haired woman rushed into her hospital room. From her street clothes and youthful face, Amara was willing to bet that this was not her doctor. Who it was, exactly, Amara didn’t have an answer. The young woman tensed, ready for anything.
“Who are you?” she snapped, doing her best to look menacing. The woman in question hardly even noticed. Amara wasn’t even sure she’d heard the question as, instead of answering, the stranger hurried to plop into the chair by Amara’s bedside and scan her body frantically.
“Oh my God, you totally look like a person now. Not to imply you didn’t before, but your skin was all charred and you were covered in soot. Soot? Maybe ash, I don’t know. I’m glad you’re okay, though, because having someone die on my front lawn would’ve been a great way to screw up my week.” Amara blinked. Was this girl on some kind of drug?
“Um… what?” The woman was now on what Amara recognized as a cell phone, the precursor to the communication devices in her time, with a lot more useless applications and leisurely settings that had no purpose to be added during times of war.
“You almost died on my porch. I think some UFO fell on you, or maybe you crashed your UFO, I haven’t decided which theory makes more sense…” The woman typed away at her smartphone before looking up, her bright eyes full of innocence and curiosity. “By the way, the name’s Darcy. AKA the girl who saved your life.” Um…
“Hello… Darcy.” Amara shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t like the position she was in; dressed in hospital garb, connected to a bunch of machines while someone she didn’t know sat by her bedside toting a bag that could’ve very well had hidden weaponry. What if this mystery girl was someone from the future sent to stop her? “Where am I?”
“The Medical City of Willowdale,” Darcy said breezily, placing her phone back in her purse but removing something else. “Want some gum?” Amara blinked. “Oh, right, you’ve just been injured. You probably don’t want any gum right now.” Darcy slid the slim box back into her bag. “Hey, can I ask you a question? Are you an alien?”
“You think I’m an alien?”
“Well, you were dressed up like you came from the future…” Darcy wasn’t wrong. But Amara doubted informing a regular civilian about the true nature of her appearance would be anything but counter-productive. So, she lied.
“I don’t remember what happened.” Darcy pouted.
“Aw. That sucks. It would’ve been cool if you were from the same place as—” All too late, the brunette seemed to realize what she was saying, slapping a hand over her mouth. Amara’s brows furrowed in confusion while Darcy muttered a muffled ‘never mind’ through her fingers. O…kay.
“You said I came in futuristic clothes… do you know where they are?” Amara couldn’t do much saving in a hospital gown. Well, she could. But it’d be a lot easier if she had her suit. The thing converted sun light into energy and would help her body heal, ease the pain radiating in some of her joints.
“Nope,” Darcy said, a little predictably. “I’m just the good Samaritan that brought you here. The only reason I’m in this room is because somebody upstairs likes me.” Huh. Amara moved again, trying to sit up a little higher and appear less vulnerable. This Darcy girl was amiable, pleasant, but Amara still didn’t trust her.
She’d seen Thanos use mind games to manipulate her most stalwart of allies. She would not let her guard down.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” Amara said, rigidly, “but I have something important to tell the Avengers, and if you can’t contact them, then you’re pretty much useless.” Darcy blinked at her, which wasn’t all that surprising. The girl appeared to be an average twenty first century citizen. She probably wasn’t personally connected to the Avengers, probably had only seen them on television or—
“Who’re the Avengers and do they make music?”
Wait, what?
No, no the girl really couldn’t be asking about them… right? The Avengers were known worldwide. They’d defeated the crazy Asgardian prince, they’d destroyed Ultron. Even people in the remotest of regions had probably caught a glimpse of one of the heroes. And yet this girl seemed to genuinely not know what Amara was talking about.
“You know,” Amara tried again, “The Avengers? Captain America and Hulk and Thor?”
“You know Thor?” Darcy’s eyes brightened. Uh oh. Fan girl on the horizon.
“Not personally,” Amara hedged, “but I need to speak with him at once.”
“Huh. Well you know, I know Thor, so I could totally arrange that as… soon as he returns to Earth.” Returns?
“So Loki already tried subjugating New York?” The confused expression washed over Darcy’s face once more.
“Subjugate New York? Dude, what are you talking about?” Uh oh. Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh. Amara leaned her head back against her bed, shut her eyes tight.
“Darcy?”
“Yes?”
“Would you mind telling me the date?”
“Oh, uh, sure, I guess. It’s April 13th.”
“Year?”
“…2011.”
Oh. God.
Stark had built a time machine alright, one that had sent her entire years behind schedule. The group she was supposed to aid hadn’t even been created yet! With that, Amara let out a loud groan. Freaking perfect.
*
A week passed before Amara could finally argue her way out of the hospital. Surprisingly, Darcy had stopped by every day bringing delicacies from the unhealthy restaurant across the street, food the hospital personnel would’ve blanched at if they’d known what the young woman had been sneaking in for her. Amara wasn’t quite sure why Darcy kept buzzing around, but she figured if she was going to somehow right the error, she might as well stick with someone who kind of knew what she was talking about.
Though aside from Thor and Iron Man, Darcy’s knowledge was very limited.
And even what she knew about those two was pretty inaccurate.
“So did you manage to get my clothes?” Amara asked from where she sat atop her bed as Darcy strode in that day. The young woman bobbed her head, holding up a plastic bag. The comfort Amara felt upon looking at her attire resonated in her chest. Finally.
“I think they were trying to impound it because, like I said, it looked alien or futuristic or something. But I convinced them you’re just into cosplay.”
“Cosplay?” Amara hadn’t heard of that.
“You don’t know what cosplay is?” Amara shook her head ‘no’. “Alright, um, remind me to update you on that. By the way you so totally owe me and should apologize for calling me useless the first day we met.” Amara raised an eyebrow.
“You remember that?”
“I remember anything,” Darcy preened. “I’m like an elephant.” Right… “So are you going to tell me what kind of alien you are?” Amara turned her back on Darcy, carefully laying her clothes our on the bed. They’d even left her weapons with her. Probably because they were unlike anything in their time. And, she supposed, the cosplay lie Darcy had concocted. Whatever that was. “Are you an Asgardian?”
“Do I look like an Asgardian?”
“Well, you’re not as muscly…” Amara held in her scoff. There was no reason for that to be offensive (except she prided herself in being in peak-health, so yeah, she was pretty offended anyway). “But you’ve got to be something. Or else how would you know about Thor? Unless…” Darcy’s eyes widened. “Oh my gosh, you’re with SHIELD, aren’t you?” HYDRA was the first thing that popped into Amara’s mind. She hissed at the mere thought.
“No,” Amara said, “I’m just…” Amara paused, trying to think of something to say. “…Me.” Darcy’s huff was telling enough. “Would you mind stepping out of the room? I need to change.”
“Okay, sure. But when I come back, you better tell me who you are because you owe me and, well, I need something to spice up my life.” Amara smiled and nodded pleasantly as she watched the woman leave. Then, she hopped into action.
It took a few minutes to struggle into her uniform, but once she’d gotten all the zippers zipped and buttons latched, Amara was ready to disappear. She felt kind of bad for ditching Darcy… but she had a mission to uphold. Darcy had told her everything useful it of information she knew (with a mountain full of trivialities accompanying them).
It was time she found someone who could help.
It was time she found Tony.
Just as Amara started pushing open the hospital window, she heard frantic banging at her door. She didn’t even have a chance to say anything before Darcy burst inside, closely followed by men in dark suits and even darker shades.
“I didn’t tell them anything!” Amara didn’t hesitate to wield her batons, though she didn’t activate them yet, just stared venomously at the men who blocked the doorway and the one who was pinning down Darcy.
“Good afternoon, Ma’am,” one of the men spoke. “We’d like you to come with us.” Like hell.
“I have something very important I need to do,” Amara said, “if you get in my way, I can’t guarantee you’ll enjoy it.” The man quirked an eyebrow.
“Was that a threat?”
“It’s a plea.” One of the men’s hands twitched towards his gun. Her fists inched towards the power button on her batons.
“We’re with SHIELD,” the front man spoke up, noting the hostility in the air. “We don’t want to hurt you, we only want to talk.”
“I don’t want to talk.” She knew about HYDRA hi-jacking SHIELD. She’d read about it. True, there were loyal SHIELD agents trapped inside the massive intelligence apparatus, Amara wasn’t interested in tipping HYDRA—or anyone outside of the Avengers—off that she had knowledge of future events. That was something that could get her hunted down, even imprisoned, and then Thanos would come and the world would end and everything her friends had sacrificed would’ve been for naught.
The image of Stark being impaled filled her mind again.
Amara stiffened.
“ Please,” she said, slowly, calmly. “I need to speak with Tony Stark right now.” The front man’s head fell to the side a little. Even Darcy looked at her in a confused fashion.
“Now what would a Jane Doe want with Tony Stark?” Amara didn’t have time for this. Swiftly, she attempted to jump out the window—glass and all. They’d anticipated it. A hand caught hold of her ankle, yanking her back towards the group of men. Amara was quick to retaliate, swinging her other leg up to clip her adversary’s chin. They both went down. Amara hopped back up.
Of course, the other men charged, too. Hands and feet flew at Amara from all angles, but she’d been raised fighting, so their moves weren’t hard to counter. Besides, it was clear they were pulling their attacks, not really trying to hurt her, only subdue. But it’d take more than that to stop Amara Wilson.
In a matter of minutes, she had the agents on the floor nursing their wounds. She didn’t stay to gloat. Without thinking, she grabbed Darcy’s hand and rushed out of the hotel room, nearly running down an old nurse. She didn’t slow to apologize; she could already hear footfalls chasing after her.
“You are a spy, aren’t you?” Darcy asked as the two raced through the hallway.
“Really? There are armed men chasing us and you’re concerned about that?”
“Well, yeaaaah,” Darcy’s words drew out as they took a particular sharp turn around a corner, jostling them both. “I have to know if I can trust you.”
“I saved your life.”
“Not really. SHIELD is always knocking on my doorstep.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me that before they actually came knocking?” The two took to the stairwell.
“Why would I do that? I’m on strict orders to not talk about anything SHIELD related.” Hm. Amara and Darcy traveled down the stairs, making it to the emergency exit in what Amara considered record time. It looked like they were home free. “You are a good guy, right?” Darcy asked as they stopped before the exit door.
“Yes,” Amara said, “that’s why we got away. Good guys always get away.” Except when they didn’t. But Amara was getting tired of all of Darcy’s questions; she couldn’t bite back the caustic response. She was ready to start running when she wrenched the door open, not expecting the dark haired man standing on the other side.
Amara didn’t have a chance to raise a fist before the tall man shot her with something, something that made her head swim and her legs give out from underneath her. Darcy screamed, she knew that, but all she could see were colors dancing before her eyes.
“Agent Ward; I’ve caught the runner.”
That was the last thing Amara heard before she once again dove into darkness.