Shades

Natasha escorted Denny back to her room, where Bruce was waiting patiently for her to arrive. He had all sorts of testing equipment on the table, some of which made her feel anxious.
“Are you…going to test my blood?” she asked, shakily.
“You don’t like blood?” Bruce chuckled.
“I don’t like needles,” she corrected. She also didn’t like the thought of her blood being on file somewhere, up for grabs, but she kept that to herself. Banner chuckled.
“A reasonable fear,” he said. “And not out of the ordinary. This might pinch a bit.”
Eden stared very hard at the wall across from her, trying to ignore the biting pressure on her arm.
“You doing ok?” Banner checked. Eden tried to laugh.
“I’m just trying not to look,” she said. One, two, three, four vials were filled with her blood.
“Aaand I’m done,” he said, and pressed a swab to her arm.
“We’ll have all the tests done before tomorrow, but you won’t personally hear about the results until Fury reviews all information,” Banner informed.
Eden smiled, and astounded herself at the raw sarcasm that fueled the expression.
“Well,” she shrugged, holding the swab with one finger so Banner could wrap her arm in purple Coflex, “I didn't expect to hear anything at all about my personal information, so that’s fine I guess.”
“SHIELD is in the habit of hiding important personal information about individuals and organizations, but we generally let people know what their medical examinations show,” Natasha said.
“After reviewing the information in private,” Eden said, nodding towards Banner to allude to his last comment. “You can’t tell me that they don’t pick and choose what questions get answered.”
“SHIELD may be like that, but the Avengers are a little different,” Banner said.
“Tony in particular is in the habit of ‘accidentally’ sharing confidential information,” Natasha said. “So I don't think you have to worry about that.”
“I do,” Eden said. She leveled her gaze at Natasha. “And I don't think I need to tell you not to take it personally when I say that I as nice as most of y’all have been thus far, I don't trust you. SHIELD I trust least of all.”
“I can’t say that I blame you,” Banner said. Both Natasha and Eden turned their attention to him. He did not look up as he finished labeling the vials. “You’re new, and different. Agent Coulson is really the only person who knows anything about you or your past. So naturally we all have a mistrust of you. We have no way of knowing what you do know or think you know. But mistrust breeds secrecy, and even if ‘Tasha is right, and SHIELD— specifically Director Fury— decide to tell you everything we discover about your physicality and abilities, you have no way of knowing whether or not it is the full truth. It must be frustrating.”
“It makes me angry more than anything,” Eden admitted quietly.
“That I can also understand,” Banner agreed with solemnity, the implications heavy.
“At least you get strong when you’re angry,” Eden chuckled. “When I’m angry all I do is cry. And destroy things, like my already fleeting relationships with others.”
“Well, that makes one thing we have in common,” Banner said regretfully.
“Alright,” Natasha said, breaking up the morose atmosphere that had settled over the lab, “I’m sure Bruce has a lot of work to do before Fury calls. So Denny, I’ll escort you out if you don’t mind. Just to make sure you get back to your room without hurting yourself.”
“The trust is palpable,” Eden mocked and slide off the exam table.
“You probably want to eat something before you go to bed,” Banner advised.
“How about I just drink a juice?” Eden asked.
“I think we have some protein shakes or something in the kitchens. We’ll get you taken care of,” Natasha assured.

Coulson lurked outside of Everlast Genetics, surmising his infiltration options. There was no way to enter the building directly. He would have taken out one of the doctors as they exited the back, but he feared they may be Shades as well. Though SOMU had identified possessed hosts as being of fragile composition, they proved wild and viscously powerful.
After disabling the security cameras with a gadget that ran the footage in an undetectable loop, he had milled about in the crowds while gaging the best point of entry. However, he had been unsuccessful at entering before the late-night foot traffic had died down. Now he waited in the shadows, and he knew that if he didn’t act soon he might as well head back to base empty-handed. He couldn’t let that happen.
As if the Fates heard his dilemma, one of the janitors exited a back entrance and cocked the door with a roll of trash bags to take a smoke break. Coulson acted quickly and slipped inside before the door hit the plastic.
The inside of the lab was dark— even though there were clearly people working, milling about in small groups, only the back-up lights were on. It certainly made it easier to wander, but Coulson couldn’t help but wonder if Shades preferred the dark. It would make sense, he thought. Denny had described them as Shadow-people, but not. Creatures that were made of darkness.
SHIELD had an old file on Everlast, from back when an AIM breakaway group had briefly operated in the facility. But now that he was inside, Coulson realized that the lab had been extensively “renovated”, and his intel only safely led him to the third floor, where the layout became like that of a dystopian, apocalyptic hell-prison. It was dark, and the only light came from tubes of luminous liquids that were being pumped into vats that contained conglomerate masses of monstrous humanoids. Many had multiple limbs— arms that grew out of mouths, legs and hands from eye sockets…they were grotesque chimeras.
The stairwell did not extend past the third floor, and Coulson had to wire his way into the elevator. Though the labs had some upgrades, the tech was no where near SHIELD’s. The fourth floor was the same as before, but the contents of these vats looked more like human fetuses. There were a few doctors monitoring the vitals of these lab-grown humans, keeping them blessedly occupied. This path continued to the fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth floors. Each floor contained a batch of humanoids that were more developed than the last. But Coulson’s luck ran out on the ninth floor.
Here there were no containers or tubes of liquids, no modified humans. Just rows and rows of glass walls. It looked like a maze. The purpose of this setup puzzled Coulson, but he was confident that he had a solution. He held up his phone, which began to digitally map the room. But no sooner had he activated the scan when the glass became illuminated from the inside. Though it did not light the room by much, it was enough to light a figure standing just on the other side of the room.
“Agent Coulson.”
Damn. Coulson clenched his jaw and smiled to cover his panic. He slowly lowered his phone, putting both hands in his pockets. Dr. Hagen too smiled and mimicked the pose, though perhaps unintentionally. The man looked like a walking corpse, sallow and pale to the point of being grey.
“Dr. Hagen. It seems you’ve been busy. You know that lack of sleep can cause manic behavior.”
“A human concern,” Shade Hagen grinned. “Soon to be a concern no more. Shades have no need to rest, and soon our host won’t either.”
“If humans were so troublesome to inhabit I can’t understand why you’d use us in the first place,” Coulson pretended to wonder. “Surely there are bigger and better options out there in the ”
“Humans are an easy target. Easily the most accessible beings on this planet,” Shade Hagen said. Shrugged. “And one might even argue that humans have the unique position in this universe to…evolve. At least, that seems to be a prevalent issue in your politics, we’ve noticed. A strange place to bring up the issue of evolution. As if humans had any control over the changes that happen around them, or to them.”
Coulson could see reflections of figures closing in behind in the glass of the door behind Hagen. He glanced behind him to see Bea and McKinney and three other people in crisp lab coats. They held in their hands syringes. Coulson could easily fight his way out but there would be many more to replace them and one wrong move could get him injected with whatever it was they had in hand— a paralytic no doubt. Shade Hagen smiled as he watched Coulson dwell on his options.
Coulson blinked. As Hagen pulled one hand out of his lab coat pockets the keys attached to his wrists jingled. The sound triggered a brief image in Coulson’s mind of Eden. It was not attached to any one moment, but with her face came a pang of regret. He never did tell her goodbye when they last talked, did he?
Hagen motioned with the freed hand and Coulson was bodily thrown to the floor. The Shades that pinned him down secured his hands and began to empty his pockets. Coulson kept his face impassive. It was dangerous, but this was the most information they’d been able to get on the Shades since the energy clouds started. If he played his cards right, he might get a first-hand look at the nitty gritty of the Shades’ work. As Shades Bea and Kinney finished their search, Hagen made his way through the maze towards them. He moved quickly, not touching the glass walls, obviously familiar with the path. When he exited on Coulson’s side of the transparent labyrinth the Shade sentries yanked Coulson back to his feet. Shade Hagen leered.
“But what we want more than durable hosts, is Eden.”

Notes

I have been in and out of the hospital several times since my last update, and I wanted to get this chapter out fast. That being said, there are probably grammatical errors that I will go back and edit, but if anyone wants to point them out to me as they see them, I will be happy to make note of it.