DISCLAIMER: I own nothing; absolutely, positively nothing.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you to everyone who read the first chapter of my little story. Honestly, I'm still not sure where this is going or how long it will be. The characters are talking to me, telling me what to write and I'm just going with the flow.
As always, thank you for the reads and reviews. They mean the world to me!
'Cause I'm only a crack in this castle of glass
Hardly anything there for you to see
For you to see
'Cause I'm only a crack in this castle of glass
Hardly anything else I need to be
— Linkin Park, "Castle of Glass"
The crape myrtles were always beautiful this time of year. She had been stunned when she arrived and saw them. They had seemed so out of place, planted haphazardly below a row of floor-to-ceiling windows, their branches already heavy with blooms despite it only being May. They comforted her and made her homesick for Virginia at the same time. The dogwoods at home would be blooming outside her childhood bedroom window right about now.
But then she remembered the dogwoods were gone. Her childhood home was gone. Everything was destroyed when Project: Insight fell from the sky.
The only reason she had escaped the destruction was because Nick Fury had loaned her talents out to the New York field office.
She used the word "talents" in the loosest way possible. She was a glorified paper pusher, a file clerk. She spent her days sorting old paper files, uploading them into databases, and pulling records for anyone who asked and had the appropriate clearance. Occasionally she would be tasked with gathering intel for missions: maps, information about local customs, population counts, and the like. That was where she really shined the brightest.
Intelligence was her specialty but she rarely got to practice it. There were higher-level SHIELD agents who got to do all the fun work. Even though she had a Level 8 security clearance, higher than even Black Widow and Captain America had been before the fall of the Triskelion, Fury had explained to her that it was necessary so that she could access all the files SHIELD had at their disposal. What he didn't say spoke louder volumes: she needed the clearance to disperse the records, not to read them.
She began college while still in high school, graduating as valedictorian and an Honors student at age 16. In just six years, she earned both her Bachelor's and Master's degrees in Library Sciences, specializing in information and digital asset management. At 22, having graduated at the top of her class, she was recruited by SHIELD.
They had told her that her skills would be integral to helping protect humanity. What they left out was that she would be placed in a dark corner office in the Triskelion, alone, with only the warm glow of several computer monitors to keep her company.
Day in and day out, she pulled old paper files, digitized and organized them, and dispersed the data to various systems and field offices. Because of her security clearance, she reported to only Nick Fury and Maria Hill. In fact, they seemed to be the only ones who knew she existed in her little corner of the SHIELD universe.
There was no plaque on her door, no mention of her office in the directory. She was like a ghost; flitting through the halls to grab lunch at the cafeteria, use the restroom, and go to her living quarters at the end of the day.
People didn't know where the files came from, only that they did. After a year of working for SHIELD, she began to hear whispers in the halls of an elusive data specialist. "'Paperclip' sent me the files," they'd say. It took her another few months to realize that they were referring to her.
As the years passed, she fell into a routine of work and avoiding people. No one seemed curious to know who "Paperclip" was, only grateful that the data specialist seemed to receive their requests and fulfill them in a timely fashion, usually providing additional information they had no idea they would need. Her extra intel had provided the make-or-break moments for a number of missions, Hill had told her. Yet she still resided in a corner office with no windows, no plaque, no signs of life.
But one day, everything changed. Helicarriers rose up from the depths, hovering over Washington, D.C., their guns locked and loaded. SHIELD agents turned on SHIELD agents, yelling, "Hail HYDRA!" Screams ran out from everywhere.
Captain America's voice came over the intercom in her office. "The price of freedom is high," his voice rang out, "it always has been, and it's a price I'm willing to pay." Immediately afterward, she could hear shots ringing out in the halls. Fear shot through her like a cold knife. She wasn't trained for this but grabbed her weapon, a small Glock 19 that Hill had insisted remain in her office in case of emergencies, and slowly made her way to the door.
Within minutes, she found herself out in the open, unprotected and in the crossfire. All she could do to protect herself was dive under a desk and pray that no one would find her. Then, minutes later, she felt the building start to shudder. Cracks began to appear in the floor, as if the building had been struck by an earthquake. One large crack was quickly making its way to where she was still huddled under the desk. Sending up a quick prayer to whoever would listen, she braced herself for the inevitable…
She woke up three weeks later, having been placed in a medically induced coma to reduce the brain swelling she had incurred from falling four stories and cracking her skull open. Added to her ongoing list of injuries were two surgeries on her legs to repair spiral fractures, shiny new pins in her left wrist, four broken ribs, two broken toes, and the fact that she was missing half of her right pinkie finger.
But she was alive, and that was all that mattered.
That is, until she was released from the hospital eight weeks later.
The Triskelion had been destroyed and, with it, her living quarters. One of the Helicarriers had crashed just outside the neighborhood where her childhood home resided. The impact set off a wave of explosions that leveled the neighborhood, killing everyone who had been in residence, including her grandfather, her last living family member.
Yes, Project: Insight had to be destroyed. Yes, HYDRA had to be stopped. But why did it need to leave her homeless and alone?
For the next three years, she wandered aimlessly. She traveled, picking up odd jobs in small-town libraries, never staying in one place for more than six to eight months.
Havre de Grace, Maryland
Arden, Delaware
Chester, Vermont
Allentown, New Jersey
It was several weeks after she had settled into a new job and routine in Cold Spring, New York, that she received a cryptic text message. No return phone number, no greeting, just GPS coordinates.
Latitude: 41.8278707; Longitude: -73.9651379
Curiosity got the best of her and she looked up the coordinates. They pointed to a plot of land in Esopus, New York, in the Hudson Valley. Digging deeper, she was unable to find any property records for the land, no bill of sale, just an empty paper trail. It could only mean one thing.
Against her better judgment, she typed a brief response to the ambiguous text.
CONFIRMED
Within thirty seconds, she had a response.
See you soon.
So there she found herself, standing in a starkly decorated office, floor-to-ceiling windows looking out at crape myrtles, waiting to be joined by Maria Hill.
She could sense her former commanding officer before she fully entered the room, boots softly thudding on the tiled floor. Maria came to stand beside her at the windows, silent but conveying condolences and appreciation with each quiet breath. She wasn't in uniform, instead opting for skinny jeans and a fitted black t-shirt. She crossed her arms, hesitant to speak.
"I didn't know if you'd come." Maria always got straight to the point.
"I considered not coming," she said, voice barely over a whisper. She continued to stare out the window, watching the pink petals dance in the wind. "But I figured it was about time I stopped running. Face the music and all that jazz."
"What music is that?"
She considered the question for a moment. What was she running from? Was it fear that kept her from staying in one place for long? Fear of HYDRA? Fear of being alone?
"The music that keeps telling me I don't belong anywhere," she finally relented, giving words to the emotions she had fought so long to keep at bay. Speaking the words made her thoughts real, like a physical being that could attack her, take her down at any moment with enough force to finally break her last thread of will.
Maria turned to look at her, relaxing her arms, palms out in a sign of peace. "You've always had a place you belonged. In fact, I would have sent that message sooner but I couldn't pin you down long enough to do so."
A place she belonged. In fact, a windowless, unidentifiable corner office, lit only by the glow of computer screens. A nameless face in the crowd.
She shook her head as if to clear away the deprecating thoughts. "'Paperclip' belonged. Not me."
"'Paperclip' is dead." The words caused her to whip her head around. Maria continued, "After the SHIELD file dump, after we knew you'd made it out, we did some 'damage control' for certain individuals. No one knew who 'Paperclip' was so it was easy to make them disappear. Just another tragic death among hundreds who fell at the Triskelion."
So that was why she had been able to move so easily from town to town, state to state, job to job. No one was looking for her because no one knew who she was.
"Thank you for that." She made sure the sincerity in her voice was palpable.
"Of course." Maria fell silent, trying to decide how to broach the real reason she had sent out the invitation. Feeling like it was best to rip off the bandage, she asked, "Will you join us?"
Those four words held the weight of the world. Would she? She could stop running, stop looking over her shoulder, help the people who had helped her. She could get back to doing what she did best.
"Yes."
Maria let out a heavy breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Good." She turned back to look out the window.
"Am I getting another nondescript corner office? Or do I get a window this time?" A small smile appeared at the corner of her lips, her attempt at levity despite the seriousness of the situation.
Maria let out a soft chuckle. "I'll do you one better." She walked behind a desk and opened a drawer, retrieving a long, flat package wrapped with a blue bow. "I've been saving this, hoping you would say yes." Maria handed over the package. "Welcome home."
She turned from the window, accepting the package, looking quizzically at it. Slowly sliding her fingers through the tape on the end, she slid out a door plaque.
Magdalena Bromsk
Data Specialist
Tracing her fingers over her name and her title, she couldn't help but feel that maybe life was finally coming full circle for her.
Magdalena looked at Maria, affection in her eyes. "It's good to be home."