"I'm Maria Hill." 

It had almost been a month since Kelda had been taken in by Nick Fury, and about a week since she agreed to be experimented on — albeit only as much as she is comfortable with. 

She hadn't conversed with anyone besides Fury and Martinez, the two agents that brought her in. She preferred being quiet during the hours when scientists would run tests on her and basically ask her to be their guinea pig as they didn't bother hiding their fascination with her abilities. 

Secretly, she liked that at least some one found her powers to be wonderful, exciting, even if they did get a little annoying at some point. Odin had never ever tried training her, — not since after Thor was about a toddler and during one of their sessions she'd ended up almost hurting Odin. 

Odin had refused to train her after then, coaxing her by saying she was already well prepared with her gifts and didn't need any more training. Young Kelda, floating like a balloon, believed him, but as she grew older and her emotions grew out of control, so did her magic. And she begged and prayed that Odin would notice something, that he would be the father he promised to be. But he never did, and when she mustered up the courage to come to him and ask him to train her again, he closed the matter — every single time it was brought up. 

Which was the case that night, when she'd lost control of her anger, and consequently — her magic. She didn't know that the fatalities would've been so many, she couldn't have known, could she? 

Self-sabotage was one of her favourite pass-times. She could've easily been a therapist to anyone, but when it came to herself, nothing was just right enough. 

"I'm the agent assigned to you now, since Sarah had to leave for a mission." 

Kelda stopped staring into space at Hill's voice, and snapped her head up to look at her, and then simply nodded in reply. 

Maria sighed. She'd been expecting this, since Fury had told her that Kelda didn't talk to anyone but Sarah, and occasionally him — if he pestered her enough. The others simply didn't matter, or she was just too intimidated to talk to them. 

Tattoos and whatnot, somethings were just uncommon on Asgard. 

Meanwhile, Hill scrunched her eyebrows as she scrutinized the lady — girl. Kelda was nothing but a little girl, 18 she assumed, by her height and build. She could've been a little older, perhaps, but she was still a kid. 

But she was pretty. She'd heard some of the male agents talking about the 'New Lab Rat' during break hours, and they'd described her appearance — however short they might've looked at her for — to be angelic. 

And for once, the men were right. Kelda had grey eyes, the color of the sky when a storm was about to brew in, and long, long dark hair, reaching her hips. Pointed nose, tall build, slightly athletic — she was pretty, and Maria wasn't even into women. At least that's what she has assumed for so long. 

"You don't talk much, do you?" 

Kelda raised her eyebrows as if to say 'Ya think?' and then shook her head 'no'. 

Hill hadn't just been instructed with keeping Kelda safe, but also with making her feel safe. Still a fairly new agent on the force — she'd been there for only about 3 years, — Hill was adamant on completing each and every mission she was assigned. 

Fury specifically assigned Hill on this mission because, well, he'd read her file — on multiple occasions, because she specialised in a lot — and knew of her history with children. Now, he wasn't the kind who'd enjoy a heart-to-heart, but he wanted the new kid on the force to feel comfortable and welcome. 

Hill remained quiet the whole way to Kelda's dorm, since she noticed that silence was what Kelda felt comfortable in. She didn't let that be the case forever though, since the next time Hill escorted Kelda to her dorm, she made to sure to ask, "do you like the dinner here?" 

A weird question, yes, but she needed to settle an argument. So far, she had been leaning towards a 'no' because well, dinner at the faculty sucked. 

"Be honest," Hill assured the kid when she saw Kelda hesitate, the gentle hand on her shoulder being a reassuring touch to Kelda, "We won't bite you."  

A beat passed as they waited in front of Kelda's room, Kelda giving Maria a sheepish look as she shook her head 'no'. 

Maria smiled and the next day, informed Kelda that she'd won the argument because of the Mayfair's vote. 

And well, Kelda didn't hesitate in making light conversation with the older agent anymore. 

🖇️

Soon enough, another month passed. 

It flew like a breeze in a forest, ruffling the leaves of a tree before the trees could register the wind. 

Kelda wasn't exactly an open book, but she also didn't hold back in joining in in a few conversations here and there, especially when Hill was involved. 

Maria had become a friend to the hesitant little Mayfair, and though their conversations were mostly Maria questioning Kelda, neither of them minded the short conversations they held every day. 

"She's ready to be trained, sir." Maria had come into Fury's office one day after talking to Kelda's doctors, who agreed that she'd been handling research better than they'd anticipated and that she should start bein trained on how to control those abilities. 

Wonderful, her magic was. 

While experimenting on her, they'd recorded the fact that she was gifted with a lot of abilities — telekinesis, shadow manipulation, flight, elemental manipulation, energy blast, accuracy, barrier creation, healing, super strength, light manipulation — she could be the perfect soldier if she was molded just right. 

And well, with her pretty face, she could get information from anyone. 

"You sure she's alright with that?" Fury skimmed through the report they'd drawn up on the goddess, just barely peering at the agent in front of his desk before going back to the file, his feet crossed. 

Maria wanted to ask about since when did Fury question whether someone was comfortable enough to complete his tasks or not, but then again, Kelda could destroy them with a snap of her fingers if she wished to. 

"She doesn't know yet, sir." 

"Well then, let her know." Fury slammed the file shut, crossing his arms, "And if she's angry, God help us all."

Maria hesitated but went ahead anyway, "Does—Does she scare you, sir?" 

Fury raised his eyebrows, "You didn't see that kid in the hospital. She blew open the window and she wasn't even awake. Gives me a valid reason to fear her, Hill." 

🖇️

Kelda was hunched over her desk, eyes skimming over her copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. 

She hadn't exactly slept well that night, but completing a book — especially one gifted to her by Sarah — was her main motive at the moment. 

Her drooping eyes almost convinced her to let the sleep in, to drown in the infinite darkness of unconsciousness. 

A knock on the door made her jump abruptly, wincing as she felt a whiplash at her neck. Hand on her nape, she sighed as she felt warmth slowly spread through her shoulders, walking to her door and opening it, giving a small smile to the lady she'd grown accustomed to having around. 

"How may I help you, Maria? It's almost midnight." 

"Fury wants you to start training, tomorrow." 

As much as she tried to hide her grimace — her fear towards her magic still lingered — Hill noticed, of course she did, she was a highly trained agent. 

"It won't be too bad, at least not in the beginning." Hill whispered the last part under her breath, but Kelda heard her anyway. 

"In the beginning?" Kelda repeated, eyes widening the slightest. She backed away into her room, taking solace in her warm chair where she'd been sitting for the past few hours. Eyes cast down, she looked at her hands, aglow with the white light that provided to be the only candescent object in the room — besides the dim reading light on her table. 

"C'mon, Kelda, you'll be fine." 

She peered up at Hill, wondering if she should tell her about why her hands shook. But then, would she, — would anyone — let her stay if they found out that her magic was the sole reason for the death of ten Asgardians, that her magic was the reason she was banished from her realm? 

Of course, not. 

So she just gave a wary smile, "Just nervous jitters. Haven't used it in so long." 

Maria nodded with a reassuring smile and a pat on her friend's back, then got up, closing the book on the table — after placing a receipt as a bookmark, of course — and started to walk out, reminding Kelda that she needed sleep and that Hill would know if Kelda wasn't in bed within the next hour. 

Soon as Hill was out, Kelda locked the door and slid against it, glaring at her unstable hands. 

Deep breaths, in and out. 

The last time she'd felt so-so anxious, so caged was when she was being interrogated by her own father, or so she thought he was. Then, she'd had a valid reason to feel overwhelmed, to let her eyes brim with tears and her hands shake from anticipation of the result of her trial. But now, alone in her room without hundreds of eyes on her, she didn't have anything to make her anxious, to scare her, and she felt weak. She felt vulnerable, fragile and she didn't like it. 

She had no reason, no being to scare her, yet she felt terrified. 

The wind that flew outside felt inviting, so she opened up her windows and dangled her feet outside, sitting on the narrow ledge. 

If she were to fall now, would she be able to catch herself just before the long arms of death hugged her? Or was she too weak for that too? 

She sniffled, the cool breeze nipping at her exposed skin. Pulling the sleeves of her hoodie — a garment she'd grown to love, — she tried to cover her hands and gain some warmth by hugging herself. 

Unfortunately for her, the solace she found in the sweeping kisses of the wind had to be cut short, because the security would've soon realized that there was a girl on the window ledge, then Fury would be called and yeah, she didn't want to go through more evaluations. 

Getting trained to use her magic was all that she'd wanted her whole life, to feel safe by the abilities she'd been gifted, rather than having to fear the force within her. 

But now that there was someone, — an entire agency — ready to have her trained, she felt terrified. These people weren't even sure of magic until a few days ago, and now they're the ones training her? 

Sniffling again as she held in her tears, she snuggled under her blue comforter, wishing to go back home, to at least feel the warmth of her mother's arms or the laughter in her chest at Thor's antics, or the enjoyment when she joined Loki in one of his mischiefs. 

Perhaps they'd visit her in her dreams.