Coulson got off the phone with the stand-in doctor who’d spoken with Denny. He had a lot to say, and a lot of theories. The test proved ineffective; her results were such that the computer could not chart her answers. There were a few things that were certain, though. She was depressed and anxious. The next questionably certain fact wagered that she suffered from some level of schizophrenia or another dissociative disorder.
The call had come while he was preforming a routine check-in at Stark’s place. Loki finally seemed to be worn past mischief, and Stark had little to complain about. He still wanted Loki out of his house, and let Coulson know this repeatedly, but he couldn’t lie that Loki was in fact behaving himself as far as they all could see. Stark had overheard Coulson’s conversation with the doctor and invited himself to ask how the “Eden situation” was going.
“She doesn’t have anything untreatable. The good Doctor says that he thinks Denny is living a disjointed reality where she indulges an adult side and a childish side of her psyche as a direct result of a situation that forced rapid maturity. Captivity of any kind could do that to a person. It also explains the high anxiety levels. With a few medications and periodic visits with a councilor she should be able to normalize her behavior. Granted, she may never truly recover, but if we can get her to a point where she can better handle herself then everything should be fine.”
“Well that’s good. I guess.”
“All that’s left to do is to let Weston know we found her,” Coulson sighed. He flipped the pages on his clipboard down and stuck the folder under his arm.
Tony’s face showed unmitigated confusion.
“Once she’s cleared we’ll have to turn her over to her next of kin.”
“Wouldn’t that be you? And isn’t she a legal adult at this point?” Stark questioned.
“Weston’s her grandfather, and even though he’s not her blood relative he technically is a closer relation than I am. And I think you know why we want her in someone else’s care.”
“If you think she’s not in her right mind, why are you giving her up at all?”
“I don’t think she’s crazy. I think that she’s stuck between who she was fifteen years ago and who she’s become,” Coulson stated with finality. “And as much as I would love to keep her here and look out for her, I think it will be better if she’s not involved in this case anymore. Or, as Director Fury explained to me earlier, it’s better to know where we’re releasing her rather than just letting her wander off into the great unknown.”
“I assume then that SHIELD is going to be keeping tabs on her,” Stark said, swirling alcohol around inside the tumbler. “How do you feel about that?”
“I can say that as a SHIELD agent, and even as her uncle, I would rather invade her right to privacy and know where she is than to not know where or how she is doing,” Coulson admitted. “I’m sure she’ll be less grateful for the measures SHIELD is going to take, but— and I hope— they will be for her benefit.”
“And what about the, uh, potential power situation?” Bruce asked.
Coulson took a deep breath.
“If she has been unwilling to reveal the full extent of whatever it is she’s capable of, she may very well hide it from Weston as well. Part of our observations of her will include any changes in behavior that will indicate if she is expressing her power to her Weston or others.”
A buzzing vibration accompanied a sudden chirping noise, and Coulson whipped his phone out once again.
“Coulson, we may have a situation.”
“Agent Romanoff,” Coulson greeted. He adjusted his sleeve to see his watch. “I think the situation here is that you were due back to base thirty minutes ago.”
“We decided to drop by and check on SOMU’s latest case. And after your niece watched an encounter with a..Shade,” Natasha said with some hesitancy, “this could be a problem that started once we organized SOMU.”

---

Eden was not taken back to base. Instead Natasha and Clint met up with Coulson at Stark’s place. There was a moment dedicated to introducing Eden to everyone and everyone to Eden, followed by a very short eternity of silence.
“Do you want anything to eat?” Stark offered the agents, and Eden. “I’ve got pop tarts in the cabinet, curtesy of Thor.”
He moved to the refrigerator and listed off the names he saw.
“I’ve got microwaveable Chinese dinners, that fancy greek yogurt and fruit stuff…” he pulled out an orange box. “Jalapeño poppers.”
Eden perked up and clasped her hands. Tony tossed her the box, which she managed to catch after looking frightened, and scrunched up face as she took an ungraceful lunge.
“Microwave is in the other room,” Tony instructed.
Eden looked to Coulson for permission to take a momentary leave or else be paired with adult supervision. She was given a nod of approval, and skipped out of the room. The microwave stood alone in a corner. She paused at the microwave, captivated by the “Food only, Absolutely No Science Please” notice that had been written in permanent marker on the door and outer walls of the machine. While Eden waited for her poppers to heat up she could hear the beginning of a heated argument in the next room. She was tempted to stay and eat by the microwave, but knew if she did that she could blow this brief blessing of freedom. She strained to identify what exactly was being said in the next room and forgot the microwave.
Eden had not realized how tense she’d become until the timer pinged to a stopped; she nearly jumped out of her skin and yanked the door open, though the alarm had already sound. She stood before the microwave, her grip tight on the door, staring past the steaming plate of poppers. She did not want to go back out there. With great reluctancy she pulled the plate onto the table, taking her time to gather a handful of napkins and to toss out the box. The arguing had died down from what she could, or rather, couldn’t hear, and she almost wished they were still yelling at each other. That way she’d at least have a chance to sneak in behind the commotion. She glanced up at the digital clock on the microwave. Sighing regretfully to herself, she put a popper in her mouth and walked, slowly, into the main room.
It certainly did not help her nerves to note that upon her entry, all talking ceased and everyone turned to stare at her. Feeling her face flush and her hands numb, Eden bit off the end of another popper and searched her immediate area for a place to sit. Tony and Bruce helped each other clear off a place at the work table for her to sit. She gave a whispered thanks and took her seat. Tony then offered her a snack-sized carton of milk, which she took gladly. Rather than drink from it, however, she spent the next minute clutching it to her chest as the conversation revived itself.
“If SOMU is, in fact, now on the side of the Shades, then this puts us at a huge disadvantage,” Coulson said.
“Well, what can you do? It would be stupid to reorganize an investigation unit, they’d probably end up exactly the same!”
“And how do we disband and quarantine our current team?” Natasha asked. “We saw what that Shade did to the woman. If we make a hasty move then our agents could end up dead, or worse.”
“Wait, wait,” Tony held up his hands. “So, let’s just go ahead and assume that your agents are Shades. The few people we’ve seen who ended up possessed looked like absolute hell. Did Hagen or his coworkers look like zombies of the plague?”
“Well, no.”
“That shouldn’t matter, if your questioning the sanity of accusing them of being Shades,” Eden interjected quietly. Again she felt the boring stare of those around her. “The Shades are still testing the waters of possession. Some may have a better handle on it than others.”
“I don’t know if this has been asked before, then,” Tony leaned on the table, keeping eye contact. “But how do we know you aren’t a Shade?”
Eden straightened her back, like she was going to push herself away from the table, but instead sat still and drummed her fingers on the rim of her plate while looking about timidly. She needed to show them sooner or later. They were already guessing, but to actually say that she had unnatural abilities— no, to show that she had those powers was like revealing some intimate part of her that she wished no one had to know about. She took a few strong, deep breaths and held out her hands, cupping them together.
As Eden took another breath, she closed her eyes. This time she did not exhale, but allowed the breath to fill up in her hands as a small, shivering and unnaturally golden flame. Everyone leaned in closer to see. There were no remarks of judgment, but Eden took note of the expressions they bore. Natasha, Stark and Banner looked confused and studious. Clint’s face was blank, like he was either uninterested or uncomprehending. Coulson looked… fearful, but worried.
“This is a purifying flame. It burns away a Shade and purges the host. I’ve only used it once. But the mere fact that I can hold this in my hands and not be in exquisite pain, or look like I’m shedding some kind of glassy, black skin, should be a comfort to you, Mister Stark. No Shade could conjure this flame and live.”
Eden closed her hands and the flame dissipated. Like a sigh of relief everyone leaned away from the table.
“So you could exorcise them, SOMU, for us?” Clint asked. Eden shook her head.
“In theory, yes, but I have to say no. It’s not that I couldn’t or that I won’t try if I need to, but I have no practice with this process. I was able to save…the last person I came into contact with because he had just been possessed. I haven’t been able to save anyone attached to a Shade much longer than that. There is a time-limit, I mean. Maybe that would change if I used it more but as it is, I don’t have any way to test that theory.”
“What can we do to help you?” Coulson asked. Eden seemed taken aback by the question. Almost as if she had never considered receiving help— help to practice, help to stop the Shades, it didn’t particularly matter. Eden was side-blinded by the offer and left speechless.

“I— I don’t know. I don't know what or how, or anything. I guess, I guess I could go and confront your team about the Shades, and test myself on them, but right now I don’t know much more that can be done.”

Notes