Après moi le déluge

I don’t sit down, not because there’s no chair, but because the simple act of being in this office is so uncomfortable that it really wouldn’t make a difference. And so it is that I stand, shoulders back and chin lifted high, trying to make myself look taller than I actually am.

A part of me almost wishes I’d shown up in uniform, but that just seemed like a welcome invitation to get arrested. I opted instead for a tailored pantsuit and heels, my hair tied back in a loose ponytail at the base of my neck. In some ways, this is in itself a uniform, albeit one that tells the world I’m rich rather than I occasionally fight crime.

I look at Tony Stark now, and I find it weird that his eyes aren’t brown. Funny how things can change in seven months. When I first showed up on the island, I thought it was weird that his eyes weren’t blue.

"You look better with a goatee," I tell him. Really, it's as good a place to start as any.

Have you ever have a dream that was so vivid, so extraordinarily detailed that, despite the fact it was also so utterly absurd, it somehow didn't make it seem any less real? That's what Tabula Rasa was for me. Months of memories and experiences...all of it the result of a knock to the head.

I never left the invasion.

All around me is chaos. Skrulls and heroes and villains alike, all fighting for control of the planet, and the sound -- oh my God, the sound -- is deafening. I wince as I pull myself up from the ground, absently noting that I'm in full uniform. And why shouldn't I be? I never left the invasion. And so all those people I knew...they were all figments of my imagination. Nate, Serena, Alice, Mikal, Yorick, Remy... I always assumed Felix wasn't real, anyway, so he doesn't come as much of a surprise, but it makes perfect sense, now, how there could possibly be a Tony Stark who hadn't betrayed everyo--

"HAWKEYE, LOOK OUT!" yells Patriot -- Eli -- and he's already running towards me before I have a chance to react. In what feels like slow motion, I turn to see what I'm supposed to be looking out for, but I don't register what it is until after he's shoved me out of the way, and the ground behind us is engulfed in fire, courtesy of a Skrull Human Torch. "What the hell's wrong with you?!" he asks, though the edge of panic in his voice is all too clear, and he grabs me by the shoulders. "Now's not the time to get PTSD -- we haven't even gotten to the 'post' part yet!"

I nod mutely. A few seconds pass before I find my voice again. "I'm fine."

"You don't look it," he says.

A Skrull falls dead beside us. We both turn to see who's responsible, and we're greeted with a loud whoop as a grinning Bullseye pumps his fist in the air and dives back into the fray. I feel like I'm going to be sick. Instead I clear my throat and stand up straight, shoulders back. "I'm fine."

The corners of his mouth quirk upwards in a smile, and he nods approvingly. Well, at least one of us is convinced. I guess that's better than nothing, right? Giving my shoulders one last squeeze, he then takes a step back and nods towards the fight. "Let's get to work."

"Yeah," I say, reaching into my quiver to draw an arrow. "Let's."