Chapter Text
The steady beeping of your IV was the only thing keeping you company as you laid there in the hospital bed. You stared numbly at the ceiling, mind empty. Sunlight drifted through your window and gently laid upon your legs. But you couldn’t feel its warmth. You couldn’t feel anything anymore. Your life fell into shambles the moment those bullets entered your back. A mission gone wrong had left you with a permanent limp and nerve damage in your right leg. Your Major had personally visited you and relieved you of your duties. Years of work and service, gone in an instant. Now, you’re stuck with nothing but fucked up lower back and a debilitated leg.
Your teammates had visited you over the course of your recovery, offering their condolences and sympathy, leaving you with vases full of flowers and cards with sweet notes. Not like it really mattered much to you. They could continue on with their lives as normal. They could continue with their careers as normal. Not you. Not anymore.
Your days were plagued with aches and pains, and your nights full of nightmares. You woke up nearly every night with the same dream of those damn bullets piercing through your body. When you weren’t wracked with nightmares, you were left laying there unable to sleep. The only thing you had to look forward to was physical therapy as they tried to get your stiff leg back into shape.
Days dragged on into weeks, and you felt more like a shell after each sunrise and sunset. It was torturous. What were you to do now? You had your dream job, you were helping people. And now that’s all gone, and you were left here with nothing. You had to start from scratch all over again. Where would you go? What would you do? These questions floated endlessly through your head as the days went by.
You could hear the nurses whisper about you, about how the bags under your eyes grew larger with each passing day. How you rarely spoke. How you would just sit there, vacant, empty, looking at nothing. You would hear the concern and pity in their voices as they spoke about how you would eat just enough to not be force fed. How you would drink just enough to not be pumped full of liquids. How you did the bare minimum to survive.
You hated it. You hated hearing their pitying voices, seeing their sympathetic eyes wash over you. You wanted to scream at them, yell, cry, do anything to make it stop. But you didn’t have the will for that anymore. So you just sat there, and tried to ignore it.
Your teammates eventually stopped visiting you. Either because they got too busy, or they were unnerved by your devoid state. Good. You were glad they were gone. You wished to be alone anyways. The loneliness was comforting now. It allowed you to wrap yourself in a thick blanket of misery and sorrow. You couldn’t do that with people around. You watched as the flowers by your bedside wilted and were carried away by nurses. You watched as the cards given to you collected dust, and were eventually thrown out. You watched as you imploded in on yourself, becoming a black hole that devoured light itself.
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It was like any other Tuesday. Or was it Wednesday? You couldn’t remember, didn’t care to remember anymore. You had just returned to your room after physical therapy, reluctantly using your cane given to you by the hospital. You hated using it. It made you feel weak. But until you got stronger again, you couldn’t walk more than 10 steps without it.
You sat on your bed as your nurse prattled on about some gossip around the hospital. You didn’t particularly care, but you know she thought it helped you to have someone to talk to. So, you let her talk about anything she wanted.
“Oh, by the way, you might want to get changed into something nicer. You have a visitor who’s waiting down in the lobby!” She said excitedly. That piqued your interest. A visitor? You haven’t had a visitor in weeks. You looked at the nurse curiously, who practically beamed at your change in expression. You let her pick out a nice outfit for you to change into. It was nothing flashy, just a plain button up and a pair of jeans. Though, you insisted on changing yourself, despite the nurse’s protests.
You hobbled over to the elevator, your nurse close to your side, leaning on your cane like a life-line. You were nervous. It was the first time you had even felt something besides self-pity and anger in weeks. You and your nurse entered the elevator and she pressed the lobby button. You shuffled where you stood slightly, straightening your shirt, messing with your hair, generally trying to look your best. The nurse glanced at you and smiled slightly. You suspect it was because she was happy to see you actually do something for a change.
The elevator dinged and opened to the lobby. You stepped out, leaning on your cane for support as your nurse gently guided you out. You scanned the lobby, looking for any familiar faces. Then your heart stopped. You made eye contact. It was Kate fucking Laswell. The, Kate Laswell. The one who got whatever was assigned to her done, perfect, and more. You swallowed a lump in your throat. What on Earth would she want with someone like you?
You stood straighter and walked up to her, not using your cane much to your leg’s and the nurse's dismay. You saluted her like you were trained to do, posture perfect and feet together. Muscle memory. Laswell smiled at you.
“At ease, soldier. There’s no need for formalities.” She said, and you relaxed your posture slightly. Your nurse patted your shoulder.
“Alrighty! I’ll leave you two to it. Call if you need anything, dear.” You simply nodded in response, and with that, your nurse walked off, leaving you and Laswell alone. There was silence for a moment. You weren’t sure if you should say something or…
“Would you like to get some coffee? There’s a nice café in the lobby.” Laswell asks, breaking the silence. You gave her a curt nod, and the two of you walked over to the café. She ordered for the two of you, just two medium cups of black coffee. She found a small table in the corner, out of the way of people. As you sat down, her hand reached out to take your cane, but you simply held a hand out, the gesture saying you had it. You sat down, secretly relieved for the break. It took longer than you thought for the coffee to be made, making the two of you stand more than your leg would have liked.
You and Laswell were silent as you both sipped your coffee. You savored its warmth and roast. When was the last time you had coffee? Was it that morning before your last miss- No. You’re not going to think about that. After a minute or two, Laswell cleared her throat quietly.
“I read your file. You did… You did a very brave thing there.” She glanced at your face. All you did was nod in thanks, not making eye contact. She stayed silent for a moment, before reaching into the bag she carried and pulling out documents. You eyed them curiously.
“I came here today to give you an offer.” You turned fully towards her, attention captured. Laswell flipped through the documents, and slid a couple towards you. You picked one up and skimmed through it. It was a debrief of one of the missions you completed before your injury. You looked at the others. They were all debriefs of your missions. You looked up at her, brow raised in question.
“You did some incredible things in the task force you were in. You executed every order effortlessly and perfectly. Not many soldiers can say that.” You glanced down at your leg. If she was asking you to come back-
“Don’t worry, I’m not asking you to rejoin the task force.” You relaxed slightly. As much as you’d love to, you know you’d be a burden on whatever team they stuck you in.
“But I am asking you to come out of retirement.” You perked up, looking Laswell directly in the eyes. She leaned forward over the table. “Look, I know you’re still in recovery, but you’ve got talent. Talent we need.” She slipped her hand back into her bag and pulled out another document. She slid it across the table into your awaiting hands. It was a contract. “We’re offering you a position as an Intelligence officer. You’d be trained by me and assigned to one of our task forces as their strategist.” Your eyes widened. The CIA is offering you… a job?
You opened your mouth. “But… Why me…? Why now…?” Your voice came out dry and slightly raspy from disuse. Laswell smiled slightly, as if she expected you to ask that.
“Well, after your discharge, we had some very persistent soldiers vying for you to come back. They testified for your resilience and planning. And, well, they were very persuasive. After looking at your files and debriefs, my superiors think you’d be an excellent fit for the position.” Your heart swelled. Your… Your teammates had pestered their superiors so you could come back… A small grin tugged on your lips.
Laswell watched you for a moment. “You were an excellent soldier, one of our best. We could use someone like you in our Intelligence offices. Hell, I could use someone like you.” She patted the contract with one hand. “Think about it. Give me a call when you have an answer.” She handed you a small card with her name and number on it. She downed the rest of her coffee in one swig. She collected the documents she showed you and stood up. You followed, grabbing your cane.
Laswell stuck out her hand. You took it and she gave you a firm handshake. “It’s been a pleasure speaking with you today, L/N.” The look in her eyes softened slightly. “You could help a lot of people. You can still make a difference, L/N. Never forget that.” At those words, you felt a small weight leave your burdened shoulders. With that, she gave you a curt nod and smile and walked away, out of the hospital.
You stood there for a minute, clutching the contract to your chest, coffee forgotten on the table. You then slowly walked back into the lobby, mind racing. Your nurse spotted you and excitedly ran over.
“Well? How was it? Was it good?” She queried. You stood there for a moment, not saying a word. Then, your face split into a small smile.
“It was… Nice…” You said quietly. You thought you saw a tear form in her eyes once she heard your voice. Man, when was the last time you spoke? She gently took your arm and guided you to the elevator, and for once, you didn’t feel shame needing some help. Your mind was occupied elsewhere, in an area you hadn’t been in awhile. For the first time in weeks, you were thinking about the future in a new light.
Your nurse brought you to your room and left you be, though, not before she let you know you could always call her if you needed assistance. For once, you smiled at her as she left, and you swear you saw her choke up. You sat in a chair next to your window, and looked outside. You felt the sunshine on your skin, and closed your eyes as you savored its warmth. You looked back at the contract. Could you do this…? Should you? How much help could you really be?
You sat there for hours, lost in your own thoughts, only interrupted as your nurse brought you lunch, then dinner, then snuck you some desert. You ate more than usual, making her very happy. Your nurse helped you change for bed, then insisted you lay down. She gave you some painkillers for your leg, and wished you goodnight.
You laid there, staring at the ceiling. But your eyes weren’t vacant, they were filled with thought. You were still mulling over the offer, trying to decide whether or not you should accept. On one hand, this position would give you back your purpose, your drive. It would let you help people again. While on the other, what if you accepted and messed up? What if you led people to their deaths? What if you caused more damage than good? You played this back and forth deep into the night.
Then, you decided.
What else did you have to lose?
You rolled over, and pulled your blankets to your chin, letting out a sigh. That night, you slept peacefully for the first time in weeks. And you finally felt something you never thought you’d feel again.
Hope.