Disclaimer: As like all of you, I don't own Captain America or anything in it. I do, however, own No One (pun fully intended) and my plot.

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Chapter 1

Once Upon a Time

(I Was Someone)

I was an experiment born with a power; unheard of yet by any of the scientists, and that made the experiments long and painful, excruciating and endless. Training was hard and the missions were worse, but they never wiped my memory, simply altered it when insanity was a threat.

I wish they had.

...

Once upon a time, I had a name. Looking back on it now all I can remember is a light feeling in my gut, a tinkle of bells in my ears, but that's it, and there's nothing tangible in those half-forgotten memories, so for a while I was simply Asset. It's what They called me, and aside from the memories, that's all I had. On the streets I forgot that title and became No One, because I wasn't anyone; I didn't have a purpose. But it wasn't a name; I didn't have a name. Just as with Asset, No One is just a title; a description.

Ever since escaping My Room I've been on my own, but really, I've always been on my own. From my time as the Asset I was usually on my own, aside from the scientists who hurt me and pushed me past my limits and the other experiments and Assets who hurt me and who I hurt as well. Thinking back on half-forgotten memories, I think the other me, the first me whose name sounds like tinkling bells and feels like a cloud, was alone as well. Vague images of a sad overworked woman and a cheerful little boy filled me with an emotion I haven't learned to identify, so I veered my attention away from the subject and on to the task at hand.

I'm looking for food. Right. Breakfast is what they call food at this time of day, and I hadn't found anything yet. In fact, by now it was almost the time people call food Lunch. Or was it Dinner? Definitely Lunch. I shook my head: it's time to focus.

I walked past a diner I vaguely remember from another visit, and circle around back to the dumpster and hit a jackpot. A half-eaten burger! As I dug into my meal I continued to try and disentangle jumbled and knotted memories from each other.

I was born a long time ago, but was captured so people – scientists – could experiment with my abilities.

A phenomenon, they called me. A miracle. Well if that's how they treat miracles these days, it's no wonder there aren't miracles anymore.

Years were spent training and laying on a table with straps restraining me so I couldn't escape the jabs of pain – needles. Or at least I think it was years. Time seems to slip by when suspended in ice; frozen, but still able to think, or alone in a small, dark room where insanity was a friend.

When I realized I was being watched, I'm not quite sure, but somewhere in between bites I became aware of the fine hairs at the back of my neck and on my arms raising as my body warned me that another person was nearby. Acting as if I wasn't aware, I finished my meal and tried to determine whether my observer was harmful or not, and how I would react in either case, but the person didn't do anything other than watch, so I determined that it was dangerous.

Throwing my trash back into the trash I walked off as if unaware, and, having been listening for it, I spotted the slight sound of shoes meeting the earth, someone's anticipated breathing, and if I tried hard enough, I could imagine that I hear their excited heartbeat as well.

Definitely dangerous. Taking in this new information I determined the best courses of action, finally settling on eluding the pursuer so that I could spy on them myself, get more information on who the person is. Giving a jerky nod to myself, I abruptly took off in a direction and didn't slow my way-to-fast-to-be-normal pace until I could no longer hear the person's breaths, but still able to detect their footsteps, then made my way to an apartment's fire escape stairs, took a running leap at the ladder and scaled it before quickly pulling it up behind me – erasing all evidence – and proceeded to the top of the building, where I easily spotted my pursuer.

Jeans, white T-shirt, baseball cap with a Broncos logo on it, – I wouldn't have immediately pegged him as a threat if it weren't for the faint outline of a gun beneath his shirt and the uncontained excitement in his heartbeat, and if I concentrated hard I could faintly detect his mind – all those things that plagued him mentally – amongst the mobs of strangers out.

So busy concentrating, trying to figure out what he could possibly want from me, I didn't immediately notice the presence behind me, but once I did I jumped up and backed to the edge of the roof.

"I'll jump." I am aware that this isn't how conversations usually begin, even with my limited people knowledge, but I'm pretty sure in this case casual conversation wasn't needed. And I was right.

"I wouldn't advise that. A fall like that might hurt." I tried to imagine that the blue eyes were mocking me, but I could easily identify the sincerity in his expression so I took a step away from the edge.

"What do you want?" It still came out suspicious, but it was definitely less defensive than my last input in this odd exchange.

"We want to help." My senses perked up at the sound of the fire escape ladder coming down as my pursuer came to us and I was keenly aware that I would soon be outnumbered. I'd have to get this over with soon, if I wanted to keep the odds even. My concern must have shown in my body language – considering I had shifted closer to the edge again – so the large blonde continued quickly.

"We're aware that you have special abilities and we know a place you can go with people who will help you understand them better." My blood chilled and I was briefly able to identify my emotion as fear before I stepped back quickly off of the roof. Or at least that was my intention.

A strong hand wrapped around my wrist and held tight as gravity attempted to pull me down in her strong grip, and if I were normal my arm would have ripped out of its socket when my body pulled taut against the blonde man and gravity played tug-of-war with me.

I shrieked, not out of pain, as I wriggled and clawed at the arm holding me; trying to pull me back to the pain, the insanity, but I refused to go back. Never; not as long as I live.

"Let go!" I shrieked. He ignored and showed amazing muscle power as he single handedly pulled me back up to the roof, to his companion. Once I got level with his arm, and it became obvious that he wouldn't listen to my plea for death – for release; mercy – I found a new use of my mouth. I took a large chunk of his arm and bit as hard as I possibly could.

It's said that the jaw is strong enough that you could virtually break all your teeth with enough effort, so it really wasn't a surprise when I felt a warm liquid fill my mouth, the taste of the iron in his blood coating my tongue.

He was yelling now, and his companion reached down, trying to detach me, and though I tried hard not to let go, the brick of the building digging into my bare arm and scraping off skin surprised me enough that he was able to pry me free, and they succeeded in pulling me up together. I scrambled to get up, to run away from the threat of returning to My Room, but apparently there was a third companion, and I got a brief glance of black leather and red hair before the hilt of a gun came in contact with my head, leaving me unconscious.

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My goal is to post a chapter once a week but I may occasionally feel generous and post sooner than that, so keep an eye open.