Author's Note:

So, I've been working on this story for almost four months, and I've been dying to post it, so I hope you all enjoy it! Fair warning, though: it is an OC-heavy story, and doesn't follow the timelines of Marvel Comics or the MCU. It does reference the first Avengers and CATWS, but nearly all of this is on an original timeline. The story takes place in the near future, and the main character is very loosely based on the original Miss America, from when Marvel was still Timely Comics. Had I found editions of the comics in my area, the story would probably have been completely different.

Madeline Bennet is an extremely unique woman. After a freak accident over 75 before the time of the story, she has shown very little signs of senescence. Because of this, she had been an essential part of Project: Rebirth, SHIELD, and even the early stages of the Avengers Initiative. However, after twenty-one years of retirement from SHIELD, MAD DOG, a HYDRA subdivision, has tracked down Madeline and her family. In order to survive, she has two options: the first is to run away and force her family to start over without explanation; the second is to bring them into the family business and risk their lives even further by joining her former employer in trying to permanently eliminate HYDRA once and for all... She'll likely choose the latter.

DISCLAIMER: None of the characters owned by Marvel/Timely are mine.

After twenty-one years of freedom, Madeline Joyce Bennet was still traumatized by what she had done. She knew that she had done some of the most important work of all time with them, but all she wanted was to eliminate the past eighty-four years from her memory; no matter how many awards she'd received, she believed she had done more harm than good. And all it took was one man to ask her whether she was a freedom fighter or a terrorist. To that day, she still couldn't answer that question.

That was what she thought she was so many years ago - a freedom fighter. Freedom was something built in her blood, invested in her as deep as a trench in the ocean. When someone tried to tell her she wasn't, she retaliated. But after that one man asked her what she was, she just... gave up. The next day, she announced her retirement to the office and one month after, she was gone. Twenty-one years later, she hadn't fought crime since…

That is, until yesterday afternoon.

She and Elizabeth were watching a marathon of House of Cards. It was a warm but breezy Saturday afternoon, and all of the windows were open in the house. Paige was out running errands for the three of them in the city, and when she came back, watching True Blood reruns was inevitable. She and Liz had been watching Kevin Spacey since midnight last night, and the two of them were exhausted, but were eager to find a new series. Elizabeth wanted Orange Is The New Black while she wanted to see The General by Keaton. They'd been discussing what to watch for a good long time before they heard screams from outside the window, and she and Elizabeth were sure that those screams weren't an animal's. She could sense the slicing open of something unusual. It was quick, but leaving wounds far more frightening than the physical wounds. She had a small idea of whom it could be, but she thought they had promised not to come back. The only way to check, though, was investigate.

"I think I should go see what's going on." She finally said after a long silence.

"Yeah, you should." Elizabeth said back. "I don't wanna leave the couch."

"Okay, then... Take a nap for me, hon."

"With pleasure." Elizabeth yawned, her hair already looking like she'd been sleeping all day. "Let me know what happens."

And as soon as Elizabeth was asleep, she started running. She bolted through the door and kept going for what really were miles but felt like feet. Her heart felt like it was at a jogging pace, her breathing nearly in slow motion compared to her speed, and she wanted to fly, but her head kept telling her no. But after internal battle, her heart won over her head and when she reached maximum speed she shot to the sky like a bullet, not caring so long as she could reach the person in need. And she did, but the criminal was not the one she expected. He had the same uniform of the other one: black puffer jacket, unzipped, black long sleeved shirt, and black cargo pants. His hair was long and light blonde, and his eyes were green and glassy. They were also bloodshot, and his hair was slicked back in the exact same position. Lastly, on the back of his jacket, the shape of a mad dog was embroidered in grey, and it's eyes were red jewels.

"Hi there, friend," the man said once she landed. "Good to see you again. How did you arrive so quickly? And oh, that entrance-"

Wait. she thought. Ohh. Well, this sucks.

Though her cover was blown, she had to keep her composure. "What do you mean, again?"

And then his skin and hair morphed into what they were the last time - mocha skin and jet black hair. His nose got thinner and pointier, and his face became more angular and defined. The woman that was sliced would probably have screamed had she not been losing blood faster than expected.

"Again." he said.

"I thought I told you to stay away from here."

Swiftly, he moved her against a tree, his hands pinning her arms to the wall. His smile stretched farther than miles of plains, but all those white teeth were bloodstained. "But don't you see, love?" He asked, pressing his forehead to hers. "I don't follow rules. Especially from girls like you." He looked down at her neck, where her dendritic scars began and trailed down her shoulders. "But you may not be a regular girl after all... you're hiding something..."

She knew she had no other choice. She would either have to die in his arms after living so long, or take a chance and break the one rule she had… for her survival.

She chose the latter.

She kneed his gut swiftly, then kicked him on the top of his head when he was hunched over in pain. He fell over into the fetal position, and he started... howling. Weird. Does he really think he's a dog? She wondered. But then he started growling, and he got back up slowly to circle her. It was too late, though; she was already circling man's eyes grew wide.

"God, that's such a turn on. Tell me, are you like this all the time? All tense and agile?" He breathed in heavily. "Because that's how I like my women."

Stealthily she slid under his straddled legs to stand behind him. She stood up quickly and fluidly before turning to face his back. The jewels of the mad dog's eyes were glowing like the red and orange embers of a bonfire in the night. He turned to her, his eyes dark with desire and anger. Admittedly, it was kind of hot; however, she didn't think what he did as a human was hot at all.

"Well," she hissed, her grin as evil as his. "Looks like you'll have to find out."

And then they fought. He charged towards her on all fours, but when he pounced she rolled onto her side and landed 90 degrees to his right. He tried pouncing again, but she somersaulted under him and gracefully moved up the trunk of a tree and onto a low branch. Her jacket was already on the floor, leaving her more room to stretch her arms, but now she didn't need them. Before he could turn again, she jumped, landing on his back with her knees. The man started to flail, but she grabbed his neck and stretched his head to face her upside down. They both knew this wasn't going to end well, but he growled anyway, low with desire to kill but intense enough to make even a dog trainer cry. And just as he was about to bark, she twisted his neck so he could face her, and just like that, he was dead, traces of his spirit already starting to leave him in wisps of red light from the mad dog's eyes. It was almost like a ghost fire, but like a real fire, it warmed her soul. Within seconds, like she had figured, the light went to the sky, and now she had to turn to the dead girl.

A pool of blood surrounded the left side of her body, and she had gone deathly pale, but she knew she could heal her anyway. In her pocket, she reached for a small vile of transparent liquid with a black dropper lid sealing it. After opening it, she placed three drops in the blood on the ground and two drops on each edge of the gashes across her abdomen. She checked for other wounds across the face and head, and she found a bruise occupying over half of her hairline, forehead, and a fraction of her skull. Placing the last of her drops in these three areas, she looked back to the sky for some kind of answer from whatever could be out there. Looking back down at the wounded girl, she placed a hand on her head and another on her stomach and said, "Gratia Dei medere vulneribus." Immediately, her blood on the dirt began turning a brighter red, and she turned the woman on her side. The blood began going back into her body, and her skin turned back to its peachy tone. Her bruise eased up to a yellow-ish with purple in the center, and then her eyes opened, showing the world a sea within her light blue eyes.

"Wh… Where am I?" the girl asked. Her stomach gash was already closed, but was still scabbing at the edges. "I… I feel so weak."

"Yeah, that's what usually happens," the woman answered. "You're in the woods in upstate New York. Do you know what happened to you before you got here?"

"Yeah. I-I was in Times Square on my way to shoot something, and all of a sudden I felt dizzy, and my publicist called a car over and I… I don't know what happened."

The girl started bawling while laying down, but the woman who saved her pulled her into her arms. She hugged the girl while her tears stained her shirt, but she didn't really care about that. The poor girl just experienced death; however, she wondered if the girl knew that already.

"Can I ask you something?" The woman asked.

"Yes." the young girl answered. Her eyes were bloodshot just like the man's, but for completely different reasons. She was certainly tired, but she probably felt more alive in this moment - no pun intended - than she did her whole life.

"Did you have any dreams before you woke up?"

The girl sniffled, and she moved her dirty blonde bangs out of her face. "Yeah - a quick one. I was fourteen, and I was back on the high school cheerleading team. I was reliving my first kiss behind the bleachers," she chuckled. "It was homecoming night, and he was the waterboy for the football team. We were both really nervous, and I had braces, but he was so sweet and so innocent and I was too and everything in that moment just felt-"

"Perfect?" The girl's hero asked.

"Yes!" she answered. "How did you know?!"

The woman sighed. "Well… when people are, um, passing on, they usually relive their-"

"Wait." she said. "Are you telling me I was dead?"

"Yes."

"But how am I alive?"

"Umm…"

"Did you save me?"

"Kind of, yes."

"No way! Are you some kind of witch or something?" the girl inquired. "I'm not freaked out, by the way. I've seen The Craft before."

She rolled her eyes. It had been 30 years since the movie and people still referenced it. "Well, it's kind of hard to explain."

"Oh! Don't worry! I've got all day!" She laughed.

But as soon as she began to explain with as gentle of syntax as she could come up with, she heard shouts from a while away. Soon several helicopters came over the two of them, and they found themselves caught on camera. Instantly, she knew that SHIELD would hear about this. Not only did she break her contract, she saved someone who was obviously important to the rest of the world, and it would be permanently documented - just like surveillance. Luckily, though, she didn't explain her story, so it gave her some leeway when it came to making up one when the time came. Soon, hundreds of reporters surrounded her, but someone familiar to the girl - her manager, she supposed, was at her side. Calls for someone named Rachel became audible to the woman, but as she was isolated from pop culture, she had no idea who this Rachel was.

"So," the girl shouted over the people. "I take it your name is Rachel?"

"Yeah," she smiled, "Rachel Ford. And you?"

Madeline said, "Madeline. Madeline Bennet."

The ashy-blonde Rachel hugged her. "Well, Madeline, maybe we can hang out sometime. Does next weekend sound good?"

She was shocked. She could no longer be isolated from society, especially now that the world would soon blow up with whatever Rachel said about her, but hanging out with the girl? That was taking it a bit too far.

She smiled softly. "Yeah, that's fine. I'll give you a rain check in a few days."

"Rain check?" Rachel called.

"A phone call."

"Ooooohhhhhh. Okay! Clyde will give you my number. I gotta go!"

"Okay… uh, bye?" Madelinel questioned.

"Bye for now!" Rachel waved. She walked into an all-white Range Rover, presumably hers, and her manager - Clyde, Madeline guessed- handed her a slip of paper. She nodded once as a sign of respect, but Clyde wanted to shake her hand instead. She obliged, and Clyde spoke like a sleazy car salesman with an accent from the Bronx.

"I'd like to thank you from the bottom of my heart, Miss Bennet," he spoke, his bald spot glistening with sweat. "You've saved the most famous girl in Hollywood! My number as well as Rachel's is in there, and we'll be sure you'll receive compensation for your heroic actions."

Reporters were already starting to leave. "Oh, I don't need any money, sir. She needed help and I helped. Really, it isn't-"

"Oh, nonsense. It's all me! This is mine, as well as Hollywood's way of saying thank you. Besides, you may get a few good opportunities out of this." He raised an eyebrow."You got any talents, kid?"

"Oh, I don't think so," Madeline shrugged it off. "It's been years since I've done anything."

"Well even if you can't, I can make you have talent." Clyde started walking away but got louder in the process. "You're worth millions now, Miss Bennet! Maybe even billions!"

"Billions?" Madeline said softly. Clyde closed the door to the range rover, but he and Rachel waved goodbye from the window. Madeline waved back politely, but on the inside, she was afraid. She had no clue what she'd gotten herself into, but she did know three things: 1) she saved probably the most famous woman in the Western world, 2) Clyde wants her signed to his management label, and most importantly, 3) she broke her contract, and soon SHIELD was coming to find her. The saddest part of all was that if SHIELD came running, two of the people she feared the most would come with them: Steve "Captain America" Rogers and James "Bucky" Barnes.

Before she could think about it any more, the dead man - which nearly everyone ignored, began to stand up. He hadn't died, even though she broke his neck, and when she stood, he grabbed his head and twisted it back into place before turning towards Madeline. "So," he nearly purred, "how about that fight?"

Without thinking she grabbed the gun from her waist, and instantly she remembered how to control dogs the way she did with the ones in New York.

"SIT," Madeline ordered.

The man's knees locked, and he fell on his buttocks into the dirt, the thud being felt in her feet. When they unlocked, he crossed his legs and obediently looked up at Madeline.

In case there were any people around, she locked the silencer she had onto the barrel of the gun and placed it between his eyes. "Now sleep."