dream
Beaming. You’re beaming. No- you’re a shooting star.
No, you’re a sunbeam.
NO, you’re a fucking galaxy.
You’re pretty sure there’s actual light radiating off of you as you follow Director Carter, sorry, Peggy- she insisted before the two of you left her office to call her Peggy from here on out. That you’d be working closely together and there was no need for that much formality. You’re pretty sure there’s actual light radiating off of you as you follow Peggy closely through the corridors, into offices, and in and out of elevators around the SHIELD complex. You were trying to keep up as she moved quickly, showing you the labs you’d work in, equipment you’d work with, people you’d work with, and god, did your feet hurt. How could she do this in heels all day?
Focus, Lou.
You round the corner into a training gym, observing men and women throwing punches and kicks at punching bags and other humans alike.
“Here at SHIELD, every employee, agent or not, is trained in at least one type of combat as well as shooting basics and knife work. Since we deal with international and domestic threats, our work is often dangerous, and we would like every person here to be able to protect themselves in case of an emergency. You would start with hand-to-hand combat during your first week of training and then move on to shooting and knives around your second month with us.”
Your jaw was on the floor for the umpteenth time on this tour, and endless thoughts decide to start racing through your head before you are able to turn and look at Peggy, who has an amused grin plastered across her face.
“Come along dear, I have someone I would like you to meet.” She says before turning on her heel and waltzing back through the hall you had just come down.
What have you gotten yourself into.
Having to nearly sprint to catch up with her once you gathered yourself after the whole punching, guns, and knives talk, you manage to get your breathing back to a normal pace right before turning a corner and almost bumping into her as she stopped at the first door in the new hall.
She looks at you again, smiles, then knocks.
Not even five seconds pass before the door flies open, a man with a moustache and a messed-up, untucked shirt smiles at you, then reaches into his back pocket and whips out a small towel. He quickly wipes his hands before outstretching the right one to properly greet you.
“Howard Stark, nice to meet you Louise.”
Before really processing what this man just said to you, you’ve taken his hand and are shaking it firmly.
“Wait, excuse me?” You send a glance at Peggy.
“Mr. Stark was informed that you were coming for an interview today and told me to block out some time on the tour for you to come and visit him. Although he does not directly work with SHIELD anymore, he still works with us here and there, meaning you and your team will most likely work with him on his remaining projects for SHIELD. This is the lab he uses here, and since he seems to be so impressed with your work in school, I am sure you will be invited to work in here on a few occasions as well.” She smiles again at your utterly shocked expression before you turn your attention to the man in front of you. Very quickly, you notice you are still gripping and slowly shaking his hand and immediately drop it before this gets any more embarrassing.
“Well don’t just stand there ladies, come on in!” Stark exclaims before stepping to the side, ushering you both into the expansive lab.
You soak in all of the top-of-the line and personalized technology, basking in the glory that is Stark Tech. But, to be honest, after he compliments your Mechanical Engineering papers, you don’t quite remember the rest of the conversation or the rest of the tour through the tower following that meeting.
All you do know is that you start your new job as an engineer at the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division, at 8am, one week from today.
Six months after being hired, you, Louise Anderson, are a head Mechanical Engineer at SHIELD.
You, Louise Anderson, have a team of seven brilliant minds that you lead when there are new ideas to explore.
You, Louise Anderson, are training in two types of martial arts, carry a gun on your hip, and four throwing knives on your thigh.
You, Louise Anderson, are (not to brag, but her words) SHIELD Director Peggy Carter’s “right-hand girl.”
You, Louise Anderson, have helped Howard Stark with two major (not to b
rag, but top-secret) projects.
You, Louise Anderson, are living your dream.
Two years after being hired, you are the Head Mechanical Engineer at SHIELD.
You have worked with the other head engineers at SHIELD to create world-changing technology, like improving Stark’s “helicarrier,” allowing it to be the main source of defense against threats the organization faces.
You excelled in three types of martial arts, carried a gun on your right hip, two knives on your left hip, and four throwing knives on your right thigh. You prefer knives.
You are Peggy Carter’s go-to for not only all things related to SHIELD, but personal matters too.
You share ideas with Howard Stark almost daily, working with him on countless (top-secret) projects in your spare time.
You are living your dream.
Five years after being hired, Peggy Carter calls the entirety of the organization for a celebration honoring the brilliance and dedication you bring to SHIELD.
You are the Head Engineer at SHIELD.
You have a wall in your office covered floor-to-ceiling with awards, medals, and photographs. One medal in particular, you and Peggy had each been invited to receive at the White House.
You still prefer knives.
You are living your dream. You are thriving.
Two weeks after the celebration takes place, however, you are leading a presentation to your team regarding the additions to the brand-new fleet of helicarriers when seemingly out of nowhere, there is an explosion. Everything is black.
When you are abruptly awoken by a harsh smack to your left cheek, you wearily open your eyes to survey where you are. Along with your entire team, you have been handcuffed and lined up against a concrete wall. Basement? No, too bright. Well, you aren’t quite sure where you are, but you know these plastic cuffs are cutting into your wrists and there is blood dripping not only from there, but also from what you think is your forehead. There is yelling, which definitely is not helping the intense throbbing behind your eyes. Russian? Not English. Russian, it has to be. Looking to either side of you, most of your team has been woken up. A few were slumped over, pools of blood surrounding their bodies. Dead. Fuck. Fuck. Before you could even register the deaths of your teammates, the yelling becomes louder, and it’s English now. Russian accent still so heavy you can barely make out his words clearly.
“LEADER! Who is the leader here!”
Shit. Was that you? You are the Head Engineer, right? This whole room is only fellow engineers. Shit, it’s you.
“WHO IS IT!” The voice yells once again.
“I am. This is my team; I am the Head Engineer.” You chime in, voice cracked and hoarse, barely above a whisper. Within seconds, four heavily armed men are standing directly in front of you. They whisper amongst themselves, looking between each other and then down at you. A gun is swiftly pressed harshly against your temple.
“SHIELD leader. Where is he?” The tallest of the four yells at you, and before you could even process the question another blow lands on the same cheek that was still stinging from the previous impact.
Wincing in pain, you manage “I, I- I don’t know?”
Another blow, right cheek this time. The coppery taste of blood quickly floods your senses.
“I don’t KNOW, okay? First of all, I couldn’t even help you with a location because I have no idea where the hell you have us held right now. Second, she left five days ago to discuss business dealings at another headquarters. It’s routine for higher-ups not to tell anyone which location they are headed to. Safety protocols.” You yell for as long as you can when giving them the false leads, immediately regretting it when the pounding in your head increases to the point that your vision is nearly entirely white.
The men huff, discussing amongst each other again, the tall one clearly translating what you had said. With a few more glances the one with the gun still firmly pressed to your head, removes it, allowing you to let go of the breath you weren’t even consciously holding. He stands up, holsters that gun, then quickly removes a different one from the opposite hip. It happens so quickly that you don’t even have time to panic before a sharp stinging sensation spreads over your neck. Dart? Most likely. Sedation? Hopefully. Fuc-
Before even opening your eyes, you felt the need to gag on the dank, musty air filling your waking senses. Groggily, you make out that you are situated in the middle of a tiny room, a solid metal door directly in front of you. It’s cold, if not freezing. Body catching up with your nose and eyes, the danger that you are in finally sinks in- and you instinctively reach for your thigh at the realization.
You’re cuffed. Of course, you’re cuffed, Lou.
The panic of being completely helpless in a small room in an unknown place doesn’t even have a chance to subside before you shoot a quick double-take at your thigh.
Your bare thigh.