This will have some names and themes from full-metal alchemists but it is not really a cross over. You'll see what I mean if you read more.

The scene starts after Shinji's first battle.

I awoke with a start at a white ceiling and a throbbing head. I noticed everything was white and barren and I noticed that I was in a hospital room. I suddenly had a hatred for the colour white. At first I didn't know where it came from. I usually had no qualms about the simple colour but now I hated it. It screamed clinical, death and for some reason blood.

A fuzzy memory flashed before my eyes and I grabbed my head in pain; the headache increased to something worse. It was like the memory was trying to force itself through; force me to remember. The headache subsided and I could remember but it was nothing like my past memories. I remember a…hospital room…no, no not a hospital room but it was like one. It was white, clerical and stunk of antiseptics. There was a puddle of something red and sticky on the floor. It was so strange this memory was so fuzzy before but now it was clear as crystal. I looked over to inspect what it was and I saw my reddened reflection. I notice that something was dripping from my forehead and dropping into the red puddle. I touched my head and the pain increased I realized that the stuff dripping from my head was blood.

"Start experiment 2 with subject 250", a voice boomed through my memory and I quickly made myself shove the memory away.

I was gripping the sheets trying not to throw up from a wave of nausea. I had so much fear in my body after that moment. I don't know what that memory was referring to…I don't even know why it is in my mind but I was scared to death after remembering it.

I willed myself to calm down and try to remember the events of being in that demon…t-that monstrous machine fighting that monstrous creature. I blacked out during part of it but I can't remember anything else. Every time I tried to remember the recent past I am taken to events that I am sure did not occur.

I remember white tiled rooms, blood, smell of antiseptic and fear. I stopped thinking once my heart felt like it was going to leap from my chest. No doctors came in and I wasn't hooked up to anything important so I grabbed my clothes…cringing at my white shirt…and left.

I was told to wait in the foyer on one of the gruesomely hard plastic chairs. I tried not to think about anything. I needed a happy place but then chuckled bitterly when I remembered I did not have one. Instead I thought about nothing and the migraine decided to have some mercy and subside while I tried to rest but lo and behold my arm decided to throb, right at the shoulder. I grabbed the joint and kneaded it, trying to will the pain away with massage and warmth but the throbbing decided to travel down my arm. This arm was always weird. It sometimes felt like it was detached or something. Like it wasn't real but of course that is just me being angst probably.

A real memory flashed through of the angel breaking my arm and that provided some solace. I continued kneading through muscle and tendons and tried not to bring on another headache from wondering why the tendons and muscles feel so different from my other arm; different but yet the same.

Why is this bothering me anyway?

I'm perfectly fine. And if I wasn't who the hell would care. My own father doesn't even care about me… he just wants me for a t-tool.

I shut my eyes as I feel heat well up behind them and I force myself to not cry as I had done so many times in my childhood.

Another sharp headache came and with it a memory. I am indeed crying but this time I am still in that white room. I can still feel the heat behind my eyes…no wait there is pain there too…wait no I am crying it just hurts to cry for some reason. I hear footsteps in my right ear and I crane my neck with pain at sore muscles and I come face-to-face with a needle.

I snap out of the memory while trying to evade another headache. I wipe furiously at my eyes to make-sure there were no tears. I'm already a wuss the last thing I need is someone to see me openly crying.

I hold my head in my hands as I try to nurse the headache away but it doesn't want to go so easily. As soon as I close my eyes again I am bombarded with memory after memory of white tiled walls and blood. I always see blood. There is no other marker except white and blood. I am in this white room seeing blood but I have no idea what it all means because I was NEVER there. I almost scream in rage.

That stupid demon, monster probably made me insane. And NO ONE CARES! Recent memories flooded back.

"Because I have a use for you"

Not my father…I'm only trash to him

"You will pilot the Eva",

Not can you pilot the Eva but you will pilot the Eva. Blatant, inhumane disrespect.

"Just get in the Eva",

Not one ounce of respect or care or anything.

Not my dad, not that stupid blond doctor, not the stupid captain not my…not my mom. No one…I'm stuck with these memories that are not my own, going insane and no one can care. I just can't…Arrg!

I screamed out loud and immediately ripped off my white shirt to reveal the dark blue shirt underneath. I threw my white shirt in the trashcan. I went to sit back down breathing harshly through my nose, my headache raging and my blood boiling. I was angry but…but I was never this angry before. I was never like this before. I was okay with the colour white. I was kind of okay being a wimp but now… ugh that stupid purple monster.

I paced back to the trashcan with a loud roar I screamed "Damn it all". In my rage I kicked the can and left a nice dent. I smiled at the dent since it released some of my pent up anger and some of my confusion.

"Gee, you're a lot more extroverted then what I gave you credit for hehe", I heard a nervous chuckle behind me. I whipped my head around wincing at the small pain that erupted from my head to find that purple haired Captain Katsuragi looking at me with a nervous smile and eyes that were trying not to look nervous.

I immediately got my bag, trying to hide my blush and stalked out of the hospital with Misato walking behind me. I could feel her eyes on my body…assessing me. Trying to figure out what I was, who I was.

At that moment I didn't even really know. I just concluded that I hated the colour white.