Right then folks. Here we go! Chapter 1 of my first fanfiction on here. Apologies in advance if it's rubbish.

The wind shook the corrugated tin roof of the warehouse. I looked up, watching two pigeons swoop down and fly out of an open window. Sunlight had only just begun to creep through the various holes that were littered around the building, and I wondered how long I'd been asleep. An hour? A couple at the most. I'd never had a full night's sleep in almost 5 years, not that sleep mattered. I didn't do anything. Except run, but only when I needed to. I ran from the police, ran from people I stole from, but mostly, I ran from them, and anyone I suspected worked for them. Running isn't hard. All you had to do was let your feet take you wherever they thought was safe. Most of the time, they were right. I trusted my feet more than I trusted myself. But sometimes, just randomly out of the blue, they were wrong. I ran straight into one of their traps for me once. I only just managed to escape, and stayed underground for months afterwards. Now, I'm trying to ease myself back into society. This warehouse is only 12 miles from New York. For most, 12 miles is a reasonable distance, but for me, it's like living in the middle of Times Square. Eventually, I hoped to get a tiny apartment in the city, dye my hair a stupid colour, change my name and pray nobody finds me.

I shuffled up into a sitting position in my sleeping bag. My surroundings were...acceptable. Sure, the floor was filthy, and I swore I could hear rats, but at least I was safe from the elements. I stretched and climbed out of the sleeping bag, (and) slipping my feet into the large, worn leather boots that stood next to me. I picked my watch up from a crate and checked the time. 7:00. I might as well go up to the roof. The workers for the surrounding dockyards usually arrived about 8:30, so I was safe for an hour and a half. I changed into the appropriate garments for the December weather, and climbed the steps up to the roof. A gust of cold air hit me, and I turned the collar up on my coat to try and protect myself. The sky above me was a crisp blue, but the prettiness of it was rather deafened by the freezing wind. I sat down and hugged my knees to my chest. Looking around, I could see an almost identical warehouse, with a perfect lookout spot on the roof. I studied it carefully, wondering if I should risk it and move there, when I saw the slightest shift in the black shadow of the spot. It was only for a second, but it was long enough for me to become curious. That was my fatal flaw, curiosity. It was a dangerous trait in my circumstances. I sat still for a few minutes, two arguments battling it out for a the final decision in my head. If someone was there, they were probably here for me. But the truth was, being on the run for so long, it got boring. I needed some adventure. I craved it. If I went in that warehouse, it was all on me. I sighed and stood up. Here goes nothing.

After arming myself with two throwing knives and a small hand gun, gathering my belongings and making sure I had plenty of escape options, I headed over to the warehouse. I stopped every few steps, just to make sure no-one was coming. Eventually, I made it into the building. On a first glance, the place looked exactly the same as mine. Filthy and unused. But after a few looks, the mud seemed to have been placed deliberately to cover tracks. It also thinned near the steps to the roof, meaning it had been placed down on the way there. I walked slowly towards them, still glancing round. I stopped in front of them. What was I doing? Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. My feet headed up the stairs before I could change my mind. The roof was also the same as my own, with the addition of the sheltered lookout spot. I tip-toed over to it, my knives in hand. I stopped, changed into an attack stance, and pounced into the shelter. I lost my footing on the landing, and only managed to stay standing when I grabbed the wall.

"Damn Annie. Getting a bit sloppy there" I muttered to myself. I made a mental note to myslef to start training again. Looking around, nobody was here. I slipped my knives away, walked across the roof and descended the stairs. I was almost at the door, when the sound of something falling against the metal beams stopped me in my tracks. Something, or someone, was here. I wasn't going to turn around. That would be stupid. Loose the element of surprise. I carried on, biding my time. When I got near enough to the door, I whipped out one of my knives, span quickly on my heel, and threw it at the beam. My aim was slightly off, but it had the effect desired. Just creeping into my sight, I saw a small tuft of brown hair. Someone was here. I took a small step back.

I didn't know what to feel. Shock? Fear? It had been almost 6 years since they last found me. I thought I was doing well. Maybe not. I tried not to show any obvious emotion as I stared at where the hair had appeared. It was a man, I knew that much. They weren't as brutal as the women. I could slip away from them better. They still hadn't confronted me. Strange. They usually would pounce on me and try to sedate me as soon as they could. And as much as I wanted to move, for once, my legs wouldn't. I was planted to the spot, just staring at the beam. Silently, a face emerged from the shadow. Then a torso. Then his whole body, creeping forward. He gracefully swung down without making a sound. He was average height and well built with large, muscly arms. Strapped to his back, was what appeared to be a quiver full of arrows.

"Why didn't you run away?" he asked quietly. My mouth opened and closed like a fish. Was this some new tactic? Talking me into going back? No way. I was not going back. I coughed, and looked him straight in the eye.

"Did I have to? Because, I can easily go now" I said, pointing to the door and smiling sarcastically. Sarcasm. The only way to show I wasn't afraid. He cocked his eyebrow at me.

"You know, you should respect your elders" he said. I scoffed.

"Seriously? How old do you think I am?" I said. He opened his mouth to speak, but I spoke before he could. "And besides, shouldn't you be getting to the point?"

He looked me up and down, as if he was making mental notes, before stretching his arms. I looked at them. Damn, they were big. How could someone's arms be so...I stopped thinking. The badge on his arm. He didn't work for them. He worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. My legs moved of their own accord. I sprinted out of the doors, and across the dockyards.

I could hear the distant sound of feet. He was following me. I sped up, jumping over crates. I turned left, right, left, not caring where I was going. I wasn't going to give up. Not for them. Damn stupid curiosity. Damn it to hell. I had to go and investigate, didn't I? My foot hit some wire, and I barely managed to stay standing. I couldn't hear the footsteps any more. I'd lost him. I carried on, not taking any chances. I didn't get very far. My breathing was ridiculously shallow and I had a painful stitch in my side. I leant against a wall and clutched it. Jesus, I was unfit. My legs wobbled, and clutched the wall for saftey. I could stop now. I'd lost him. S.H.I.E.L.D. S.H.I.E.L.D. I hadn't heard from them since I was 10. They were supposed to help me. Well, I thought, 18 years too late.

Just then, I heard a whoosh of air, and something sharp pierced my thigh. I gasped in pain and looked down at my leg. A black arrow was sticking out. Great. He had found me. I gritted my teeth as I pulled it out, and threw it on the floor. It looked like it had an injection thing screwed on the end. They'd injected me with something.

"Wha-" I started to say, but my leg suddenly felt like lead. Then my other leg. Then my arms. My vision went cloudy. I felt like I had no bones. Instead of falling to the floor, a pair of arms caught me. It was him.

"You absolute ba-" I tried to curse him, but my eyes rolled shut and I fell into unconsciousness.