A/N: I'm re-uploading this with an Author's Note. There's a better note in the second chapter, so I won't carry on here. However, if you're reading this, please continue to do so and review if you've got a moment. I haven't written fanfiction in a really long time, so I may be a little rusty. Thank you so much for your time.

S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters, 1400

The day was clear and calm. The sun was out and in Central Park children were playing. Saturdays in May were great days to be outside for New York City's citizens. Kids could play outside and it wasn't too hot yet. People could get to work and not struggle against bitter cold winds. Good weather made for good moods. A lack of invading aliens pouring through a hole in the sky also made for good moods. The people of New York City were just barely recovered from the Chitautri invasion from six months ago. Yes, the Avengers had saved the city, quite possibly the world, but they'd also left a mess. The government had handled the clean up, but the inconvenience to citizens was something that couldn't be paid for.

Regardless of the lack of alien life, however, a S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier could be seen occupying New York City's airspace. Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. were part of the city's cleanup crew, providing law enforcement as NYPD regrouped as well as supplying transportation of goods to rebuild the city. Perhaps it wasn't intentional, but the helicarrier was now a permanent feature in the New York City skyline along with the Empire State Building, Stark Tower, the Baxter Building, and the Crysler Building. Some citizens loved it. They liked know S.H.I.E.L.D. was so near. They felt that because New York was such a globally important city, it would always be a target for terrorist attacks and alien invasions. S.H.I.E.L.D. made them feel safe. Others hated the helicarrier and everything it represented. They felt the presence of "superheroes" invited darker forces to prey on their city. They wanted S.H.I.E.L.D. gone. For now though, the helicarrier was parked, and wasn't going anywhere new anytime soon.

Inside the observation deck of the helicarrier, Nick Fury, head of S.H.I.E.L.D. was playing a message for two of his agents.

"They were doped up on something strong. This is the third time in two weeks I've run into guys like this. They look like crack heads. Skinny and sick. But they're strong and fast. I haven't seen anything like it, not in Hell's Kitchen. I suspect it's a drug and I'm sure you'll confirm that. Once they come off their high, they die. Just like that. The guy I sent you was charging me like a bull and then suddenly he was dead. Let me know what you find. I'm not going to be able to contain them in Hell's Kitchen for long."

"We got that on a private line from Daredevil last night. Agents met him and acquired the body. The autopsy's been started and so far it looks like Daredevil is right; there's some kind of drug involved," said Nick Fury. He was standing at the railing of the observation deck, looking at New York City in the distance.

"So what, it's like juiced up Speed or something?" asked Clint Barton. Clint was sitting at the table on the observation deck, one arm draped casually on the back of the chair, his legs tossed in front of him, crossed at the ankles. His long frame had an air of grace about it in its casualness. He was in S.H.I.E.L.D gear, the standard black cargo pants and boots and a grey S.H.I.E.L.D. t-shirt.

"No, it's different. Regular street drugs might up adrenaline and make you crazy, but these symptoms are different. We pulled security footage from the alley where Daredevil took out our corpse," replied Fury, nodding at the tech at one of the computer consoles to play the footage. The large screen used for projecting images lit up in a fuzzy black and white image. Daredevil could be seen fighting off a thug. He looked like a drug addict, frail and sickly. But that was the only his appearance. He moved quickly, matching Daredevil blow for blow, not being slowed down even when after pushing off a wall for momentum Daredevil swung his billy club into the addict's head. The club actually broke. The drug addict then proceeded to grab Daredevil's wrist and throw him down the alley, letting him hit the ground hard. Daredevil was barely on his feet before the addict ran into him full tilt, leaving him and Daredevil struggling for leverage as they pushed and pulled at each other's shoulders. Then the curious thing happened. The addict completely gave out, becoming dead weight. The shift in balance pitched Daredevil forward slightly, still pushing on his attacker. Regaining his balance he let the man fall. It was clear on the video the man was dead, a small trickle of blood running from his nose. The video went black.

"Fury," started Natasha Romanoff, the other S.H.I.E.L.D. operative watching with Fury and Clint,

"Fury, unless I'm crazy, that's Super Serum territory. Or something very near it." She stared at the screen for a moment, as if she could still see the addict beating up Daredevil.

"That's what we're thinking, but also afraid of," replied Fury, his one eye fixed on Natasha.

"What, so like Steve Rodgers type stuff?" asked Clint.

"Not exactly. I mean, there's the obvious super strength and fighting ability. But whatever this is degenerates life after juicing it up. It's impossible to know if Steve will even die because of his serum," replied Fury.

"So what's our next step?" asked Clint.

"You and Agent Romanoff are going to Hell's Kitchen tonight. Make contact with Daredevil at the Hell's Kitchen Park, 2300 hours. We need to find out more about the origins of this substance before we do anything else. You'll be reporting to the observation deck, call OD. Any questions?" the agents shook their heads.

"Then we are green to go. Be careful out there. Report to launch room at 2200 hours. Dismissed."