Awake
Bip, bip, bip, bip
The first thing you notice is the sound of the machine, and the smell of disinfectant hits you later. You open your eyes but quickly shut them back. The room is well-lit, and you may need a moment to adjust to the brightness.
Your skin tingles; it feels like an electric current is flowing through your veins. It doesn't make you uncomfortable, but the sensation is strange.
Now that your eyes have adjusted to the light, you look around. There is a slightly open door on your right and a window on your left. It seems to be either early morning or late afternoon by the sunlight coming in. Your trusty jacket hangs from a chair across the room, and your boots are on the floor, and when you see them, you breathe a sigh of releive.
You prop on your elbows and look behind you. There are three machines like nothing you have ever seen before, each connected to multiple cables. One end of each cord is attached to a device, while the other is attached to you and a drip in your arm. Your mind instantly remembers how you and Steve found Bucky at the Hydra factory, and your breath becomes erratic. You shut your eyes, "Breathe, Victoria." You whisper to yourself, trying to avoid panic.
You hear an alarm from the machines when disconnecting all cables from your body. Without hesitation, you yank the drip from your arm and climb off the bed. You feel light-headed for the sudden move, but there is no time to waste. You could be a prisoner, as far as you know. If you want to make it out alive, you have to move fast.
You put on your jackets and boots, "You are awake." A male voice sounds from behind you. You have your back to the door and didn't hear him. A memory crosses your mind; you put your hand inside one of the inner pockets, hoping to find something. Relief washes over you when your fingers close around the familiar object, and in one swift motion, your arm traces an arch behind you, releasing the blade into the air.
He ducks just in time to avoid the knife that sticks to the door frame. "I'm a friend! I didn't mean to scare you." He lifts his arms, palms up in surrender. You stand in a defensive position and look at him for the first time. He's about your height, not very muscular, but with a sturdy complexion. His curly hair looks disheveled, a pair of glasses hang from the tip of his nose, and he's wearing a doctor's coat. He doesn't look like the type of person who gets in a fight, but you sense something dangerous below the surface, like a wild animal in a cage.
"Sparkles! I see you're up." A different man casually enters the room. He looks at the knife on the door frame and lifts his eyebrows, "Charming," he says with amusement. "Who are you? Where am I? When am I?" You start asking questions, trying not to let fear seep into your words. The first man still has his hands in the air; he hasn't moved an inch. The other walks calmly into the room and leans against the foot of the bed, crossing his arms.
"That's a lot of questions, Sparkles." He says with a smirk. You look at him, lifting an eyebrow. "Well, you better start talking." He holds your gaze defiantly. Something about him seems familiar; he reminds you of someone. "Bruce, my name is Bruce Banner." The first man answers. "He's Tony Stark," he seems nervous because he is stumbling over his words. "We're in the Avengers Tower's medical facility. It's October."
The name Stark surprises you; could he be Howard's relative? Lowering your guard, you look at Tony. "Do you know Howard Stark? Is he here?" A hint of sadness crosses his eyes, "He was my father." Tony is not a child; he is a full-grown man. A lump forms in your throat, and you swallow hard. "Which year is this?" Tony sighs, "2012"
The air leaves your lungs like someone has hit you in the stomach. You take two steps back and collapse in the chair. "Sixty-eight years." You whisper to yourself. You knew some time had passed in the In Between, but this is a cruel joke. If anyone from your time is still alive, they may be elderly and not remember you. Your parents have passed away; you feel alone. Nobody knows you.
You lift your eyes to the ceiling, trying with all your heart not to cry. You'll have to figure out how to live now. Tony walks to you and puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You're not alone. My father used to talk about you." He pulls something out of his back pocket and hands it to you. It's an old photograph of you and Howard. Both of you are smiling at the camera. Howard has a white peony on his lapel, and you have the veil pulled back. A sad smile appears on your face, "I can't believe he kept this. The photos were only supposed to make the cover plausible." A single tear runs down your cheek.
"You two blow up a factory in Greece. It was my favorite story growing up." Tony's eyes are shiny with unshed tears, "He told me that you killed a man 300 meters away with a single bullet. He always remembered you fondly, the one that got away, he used to call you." You smile with sadness.
"Where have you been all this time?" Bruce's voice gets you back to the reality. You open your mouth to answer, but you get distracted by rapid steps outside and someone barging into the room. "Victoria!"
Steve closes the distance between you two, and you stand up to hug him. "I thought I'd lost you." He whispers as you hang to him like the last board on a wreckage. A few minutes later, he steps back and grabs your face with his hands. You look at him; he hasn't aged a day, "You look the same. How?" Steve smiles, "I can say the same about you." "Well, for everyone, it's been sixty-eight years, but for me, it hasn't been more than a few hours since the fight with Schmidt." The three men look at you in disbelief.
"Mister Stark, Doctor Banner, Captain Rogers; Director Fury has requested a meeting with everyone, including Miss Davidson, in the conference room." The familiar voice resounds all around you. "Thank you, Jarvis. Please tell Fury we'll let Victoria freshen up first." "Of course, Mr. Stark." You are confused, "Is Jarvis here?" "No, it's an AI programmed with his voice." Tony's words confuse you even further.
"I will take you to the bathroom and ask Natasha to bring you something to wear." Steve puts an arm around your shoulders and leads you outside.
Twenty minutes later, there's a gentle knock on the door. "Yes?" You shout from the shower, "I got clothes for you." A female voice answers from outside. "Come in." You yell in response, "Leave them over the bench. Thank you." You exit the shower room wrapped up in the best towel you have ever seen but stop before making more than two steps. "Your eyes are grey, not blue." The woman standing before you has long, red hair; she is a couple of inches shorter and slim. "Sorry?" You ask, "Yesterday you had blue glowing eyes." You don't remember ever meeting her, but you don't know how you got here either. You are about to say this to her when she interrupts. "There's clothes and underwear. I never used them." She turns around and leaves.
You examine what she left. A bra, a pair of socks, a panty-like garment, a white T-shirt, and ... "What on earth is this?" It looks like pants to you, but the fabric is elastic, like pantyhose. There's no girdle in sight; in your eyes, that's a win. Twenty-five minutes later, you open the bathroom door. The red-haired is outside, leaning against the wall, waiting. "What took you so long?" You blush a little, "I had a little problem with the panties," you notice she's trying not to laugh, "and then another, with the pants." You stand up straight, trying to hold onto the last ounce of pride in you. "What could go wrong with the panties?" She asks, teasing. You blush even harder. "Is stuck in my butt." You whisper, and she starts to laugh. "Is not funny. It's uncomfortable."
"Follow me." She says between laughs, so you follow. An elevator, many corridors, and doors later, the woman leads you into a big conference room. There's a large wooden table and many seats around it. One of the walls is a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the city. Opposite the window, there's a black glass object hanging from the wall. The remaining two walls consist of tinted glass.
The room is quite crowded. Steve is on your left with a worried expression. Next to him, there's a tall man with an eye patch idly looking at a stack of papers in his hands. On his left, Bruce and Tony are sitting next to each other. Tony holds something in his hands and whispers to Bruce. Natasha has crossed the room and is seated next to a brunette. She is talking to a blonde man; he grips possessively a bow in front of him, and, occasionally, he shoots glares at a man who sits one chair over from him. A man dressed like a Roman gladiator is in the middle. He has long blonde hair, and his expression shifts from warning to the blond on his right to worry to the man on his left. You can tell he's worried because he looks sickly. The sick man has long black hair, a pale face, and bloodshot eyes. The group finishes with an army Colonel, judging by the emblems on his arms. You debate between saluting him or not.
"Please, sit down." The man with the eye patch signals a chair for you to sit on, ending your internal dispute. "May I ask you who you are?" He is the only one standing, an intimidation tactic, you guess. Steve's eyes meet yours, and he nods subtly. "I'm Lt. Victoria Alexandra Davidson, WAC, assigned to the SSR under Col. Chester Phillips's command." You answer in a polite tone but look straight into his eye. He won't intimidate you, and you're letting him know that. "The funny thing is Lt. Davidson fell off a plane during WWII. And the best part? Captain Rogers was there. What do you have to say about that?" He gives you a sardonic smile. "Fury." Says Steve in a warning tone, stretching the U.
"Ah, yes. The lost friend. But how can we be sure?" Steve stirs in his seat angrily. "How can you say that? Of course, it's me. It's preposterous just thinking otherwise." The man Steve called Fury bends over and puts his face near yours. "Missy, you came from a wormhole swarming with alien creatures sent to destroy the city. After the stunts you've pulled on top of the tower, not to mention that you destroyed government property. You should be grateful that your ass is on that chair; and not in a containment facility."
"FURY, STOP!" Steve explodes, denting the table after slamming his hand over the thick wood when he stands up. Both men look at each other defiantly. Tony clears his throat slightly, cutting some of the tension. "Gentlemen, why don't we sit down and let Victoria explain?" Steve and Fury get to their seats, and you give Tony a grateful smile. "Please, Victoria. Carry on." You wiggle in your chair nervously. Can you trust these people? Steve seems to do it; maybe you could, too.
"I am who I said I am. I'd enlisted on July 4th, 1942. After an argument with my mother," You look at Steven, "at your birthday lunch. Remember?" He nods, and you continue. "After basic training, I applied for the Office School and ascended to 1st Lt." It feels unreal to think this happened so long ago for everybody except you. "I was assigned a desk job in Fort Des Moines under Major Joseph Gillmore." Shame washes over you, but you keep going. "After a disagreement with a senior officer, I was transferred to the SSR with Col. Phillips."
"The kind of disagreement that leaves a senior officer mentally disabled?" Fury points out with a smirk. "I think the girl he was rapping disagreed with him too." Anger and disgust seep through your words, and Fury has the grace to look ashamed. Everyone is silent, waiting in anticipation without saying a word. "I assisted Dr Erskine briefly in Project Rebirth while completing my training for the SSR. I completed my first mission perfectly. For the next assignment, they gave me a team. That went far from perfect." Instinctively, you rub your shoulder. "After that, Steve. Sorry, Captain Rogers formed the Howling Commandos, and we raided every Hydra facility together."
"But how did you get here?" Bruce speaks for the first time. "That is a little more complicated. Does anyone know what the multiverse is?" Bruce beams with joy. "Yes, it's a theory. This universe is just one among many others. Some of the multiverse theorists posit that the differences between the different universes are slight. Small details that make one universe different from the other." Everyone looks at him without fully understanding. "For example, in this universe, my hair is dark. In an alternative universe, with a different genetic combination, my hair could be blonde or blue." Bruce looks like an excited puppy, and you smile at him. "It's an interesting theory."
"You are one of the guardians the legends talk about." The words of the legionnaire bloom across the room. "Legends? Multiverse? Lady, don't think you can convince me with fantastic stories. I want answers, and I want them now. Where were you all this time? What is your agenda?" Fury's shouts anger you. The electric humming in your veins is increasing. Your blood is boiling, actually boiling. You take deep breaths to calm yourself. "ANSWER!" He shouts again.
"Two days ago, I was on a plane fighting an enemy like this world has ever faced. I got hit, and I fell. Someone told me I had to be a protector and sent me back." Anger is seething through your teeth. "I don't have an agenda, as you say. I don't know why I'm here. All I know is that I've lost everything I had. If you don't like my answer, that's your problem." Pain and anguish have mixed with your rage. Your temperature is rising, and your body shakes.
"Sparkles, look at your hands." Tony sounds concerned, and for the first time, you notice the strange nickname he has given you. "Victoria, your hands," Steve whispers next to you. When you look at them, you understand. Your hands are glowing blue, and silver sparkles float around them. You start to panic. "What is happening?" The blue light crawls up your forearms. The panic is rising; no one seems to know what to do, no one comes closer. You look at your arms frozen in place. When the light hits your shoulders, you notice movement around you. Someone is trying to get to you, but others are trying to prevent it. There is an argument and some pushing. Amidst heated screams, fear numbs your senses, leaving you unable to understand their words. You notice a green flash in the periphery of your vision, and a voice whispers. "Sleep."