"Name?"

Silence.

"I asked your name."

Silence.

"Do you want to spend your life in a penitentiary?"

Silence.

"Very well."

The man stood up, his black coat flapped behind him, he adjusted his black eyepatch over his left eye. He turned and walked towards the door.

"Aurora."

The man turned his head, his eyebrow raised.

"Aurora?"

I nodded. The man turned around and slowly approached, ignoring the chair and instead placing his hands on the table as he leant forward.

"Do you have a last name?"

"Eriksson."

The man nodded slowly.

"Where are you from? You don't sound English."

I blinked slowly, before replying, "Stockholm."

The man nodded his head.

"I'm assuming you know basic English?"

"I speak a small part of English," I replied.

Understanding this man's lingo was difficult, but I got over the language barrier by picking out keywords and guessing the rest.

With the narrowing of his right eye, the man turned and walked away.

"Nej!" I called, jumping to my feet.

The handcuffs rubbed painfully at my wrists. The man turned around again, this time sighing.

"What?"

"No go," I shook my head. "I speak everything."

My limited English was inevitably going to lead to a difficult conversation, and the man seemed to know this.

"I'll be back," he said.

I nodded and sat back down. I studied the room I was in for the seventh time in the past sixteen minutes and thirty-two seconds.

Dark grey walls. Stark white lights. A black screen to my left. Dark grey hard floor. The cuffs around my pale wrists were reflective. The table and chair were both dark grey, almost blending into the floor and walls.

The door reopened. The bald man was followed by a woman with black glasses and blonde hair tied in a high ponytail. They both sat opposite me.

"So your name is Aurora?" the man asked.

It was translated.

"Yes," I replied. "What's yours?"

The man hesitated elegantly, then said, "Nick Fury. To you, however, it's Director Fury."

"Who do you work for?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D."

"What's an American doing in Sweden?"

"Because we saw your potential."

The translator was swiftly repeating what one had said to the other in our respective languages.

"What potential? Murder?"

"Strength, determination, resilience. You were injured when you killed your attacker."

I looked down in shame.

"I still let my mum die," I mumbled.

"Do you regret what you did?"

I fidgeted with my hands, tears pricking at my eyes. I tried to blink them away, but one managed to escape. I hurried to wipe it away, but it didn't go unnoticed.

"Aurora?"

"What?"

"Do you regret what you did?"

I shook my head slowly.

"He deserved exactly what he got," I spat.

Director Fury nodded slowly.

"And you have no regrets at all?"

I didn't reply, only stared at my cuffed hands. Fury sighed and stood up, saying, "I'll be back soon."

I ignored him and listened as him and the translator left, closing the door. Once I was alone, I let a few tears slip out of my eyes. I had let my mum die. I had let my anger take over and instead of focusing on my mother, I focused on revenge. I was thirteen years old, sat in a prison cell with potential murder charges on my head. My only living relatives were dead. I had nobody.

Or so I thought.

Fury returned, this time with a different man. He looked more friendly, and approached me with a smile.

"Hi, I'm Phil Coulson," he introduced himself simply, holding out his hand.

I stared at his hand. Did he... know I was in cuffs?

"Oh, right, sorry," Coulson chuckled and sat down in the chair opposite me.

The blond translator was stood beside him.

"This is going to be an odd offer, but would you like to join S.H.I.E.L.D?"

"What?"

"Yeah, you heard me," Phil smiled slightly as he spoke. "Join S.H.I.E.L.D."

"But I killed a man?"

"Yes, you did, but you don't have anybody else to go to - if you got out of this without a big fat charge slapped on you."

I looked away.

"True," I mumbled.

"You'd be kept safe if you came with us, fed, a roof over your head, warm clothes."

The offer was tempting - oh 100% - but surely there was a catch, right?

"But there's one thing we would require."

Told you.

"You become an agent - that is if your physical exam gets passed without a problem."

"If... there's a problem?"

"Then you don't have to be a field agent."

"So... either life in prison, or become an agent for S.H.I.E.L.D?"

"Missing a few key details there, but that's about the gist of it."

I nodded slowly, contemplating the offer.

"What about the language barrier?"

Phil thought for a moment.

"Are you willing to learn English?"

"Of course. I've been learning it."

He smiled.

"So, would you like to join S.H.I.E.L.D?"

I thought.

"Do I have to decide... right now?"

Coulson shrugged one shoulder.

"Preferably," he replied. "We need to get back to the states soon."

Taking a deep breath, I told him, "I'd like to take up your offer."

He smiled.

"Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D Aurora Eriksson."

I let the smallest of smiles slip onto my face, despite the conditions I was here under.

"Thankyou," I almost whispered in English.

Phil smiled warmly, and came around the table to me. I looked at him confused as he took my wrists, until he pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked the cuffs.

"Thankyou," I thanked, rubbing my sore wrists.

He spoke some English that I didn't quite understand, and the translator rushed off. Now it was just me, Coulson and Fury in the room. They talked to each other in incomprehensible English, so I was just kind of sat there; looking pretty fucking awkward.

The translator soon returned, this time with a prison guard. Him and Fury had a conversation, then the guard reluctantly came over to me.

"Stå," he ordered. (Stand)

I did so, and he proceeded to search me.

"Du gjorde det här när jag kom in," I pointed out. (You did this as I came in)

The guard glared up at me so I fell silent. His burly figure was more than enough to knock me unconscious if he wanted to.

"Du går bra," he said. (You're fine to go)

"Tack," I thanked quietly, and noticed as Coulson gestured to me.

I walked over to him.

"The ride to New York is a long time, so if you need the bathroom or anything, go now."

Not understanding a word of what he said, I asked, "Förlåt?"

The translator quickly translated the sentence for me.

"Jag är okej," I replied. (I'm ok)

Coulson smiled at me and I followed him and Fury down a few corridors and then out of the station. Outside was parked a small quinjet.

"Let's go," Fury said, and I felt a slight twinge of joy as I understood his words.