His first memory is that of a room so white it hurt to look around. He was smaller then, no bigger than a ten year old. He knew nothing but the fact that he was unable to leave and an inborn feeling urged him to get out, to be free. His arms changed, unthinkingly, unconsciously, into their mechanical form and he pounded the walls wildly. He screamed, words that made no sense and had no meaning. Mixes of Spanish and English spilled out as the walls bended, but would not break beneath his punches. He was so scared. He was alone with no idea who or where he was.

He couldn't breath right. Terror filled his whole body and overrode any other feelings. His eyes flicker wildly around the room as they sought both threat and escape. The door slide open soundlessly to his left and he pushed himself to the wall to protect his back. A man in green strode up to him, undeterred by the fact that the child before him had hands of metal and eyes of a wild animal. His eyes were hid by shades of green, but he knew that they stared at him and only him. A rumbling growl started in the back of his throat that matched the threatening scowl on his face. The man's expression held no emotion and didn't change because of his actions. The man in green's voice was composed and collected as he spoke.

"Calm down." He ordered.

He bared his teeth and met the man's gaze with brown orbs of pure hatred. With wild abandonment he swung his fists and tired to make the man go away. With movements quicker then the boy could catch the man dodged his punches and came to tower over him. Within second's the man's hand is on his head and forcing him to his knees. Again he repeats his orders.

"Calm down."

Knowing he is beat the boy lets his arms fall to his side and they subconsciously change back.

Seeing the boy has calmed down the man speaks again.

"Do you have a name?"

The words have meaning, he knows they do, but he cannot grasp it.

The man looks at him with cold expectance and the boy is at a loss as to what to do.

His throat is ruff and raw from his screaming and his lips struggle to form the words as they get strung together in his mind.

"I…I…don't….know." He gasps.

Something flashes across the man's face at his words, but like his movements it occurs too quickly for his eyes to follow.

"You're an Evo and yet you are human. How is that possible?"

Again he does not understand and this time the words are truly unknown to him. What is an Evo? What is a human? Is it wrong to be both?

His lack of knowledge seems to resonate from his expression for the man does not wait for his answer.

"What do you know?"

He searched his mind for the words to fit the question and comes up with only one.

"Nothing…..I know nothing."

He grasps his chest as though in pain and feels a hollowness inside. He searches vainly for anything that is his. A face, a voice, or a memory in the pit of blackness that submerges all things he was before he awoke. There is nothing. He is nothing.

Streams of warm water trail down his cheeks and he is alarmed to find that his eyes are producing the liquid.

The hand on his head that had forced him to his knees withdrew its pressure until it merely laid there motionless.

"I am Agent Six of Providence and I have been instructed to look after you. You are safe here and you will be taken care of. You will need a form of identification."

The man stares at him for a long moment and removes his hand. With a delicate touch that does not match the one that blocked his punches the man, Agent Six, pulls at the back of his threadbare shirt and eyes the tag behind his glasses.

"It says Rex." He tells the boy impassively.

The child freezes at the words, expecting something to come with the labeling of his being. It rings no bells. It is nothing to him….Yet it is him.

With trembling hands he pulls at the back of his shirt and brings it over his head. With the same unsteady touch he fingers the worn label. Rex is written in fading black sharpie and appears as though done by a caring hand.

He hugs the shirt to his chest tightly and only remembers Agent Six when the man picks him up by his shoulder and makes him stand.

"Can you walk?" His tone saying he has no other option.

Rex nods lightly and looks to the man for direction.

"You will have to remain calm, not initiate any forms of attack, and accompany me without protest. Lodgings have been prepared for you and in the morning…..We will begin working on training you. Come along."

Agent Six does not wait for him to rise and turns to exit the room without a second glance. Rex rises unsteadily on his half numb feet and tries to follow Six's long strides with his own short legs. The halls they walk threw lack all color and seem to go on endlessly in front of him. An uncountable number of doors were passed before Agent Six stopped in front of the one he was looking for. It looked no different than the other hundred they had passed and Rex almost ran into him when he unexpectedly stopped. Six entered a code into the keypad on the wall and the door slid open soundlessly. The room was dimly lit and kind of scary compared to the last one, making Rex wary of entering it.

He was afraid to complain and instead settled for whimpering lowly. Six stepped aside and motioned for Rex to enter. With great reluctance he stepped into the dim room and looked around at the white walls. It had only two bunk bed in it and was little bigger than a closet. He gathered his courage to ask Six if he had to stay here, but just as he was about to turn the door closed with a swift flash and he was left alone in darkness. He thought the white had been maddening, but it was blessing compared to the dark. With the tentativeness of a blind man he made his way to the bottom bunk and settled himself on the thin mattress. The weariness he's been suppressing engulfed him as he rested his head on the unseen pillow. To break the eerie quiet that surrounded him he allowed a single word to slip past his lips.

"Rex."

The word echoed threw out the tiny room and came back to him quickly, sounding more like an accusation then it had when he had spoken it. The last remnants of tears he still had in him welled from his eyes and dripped down his face.

Someone had named him that. Someone had cared enough to write it in the inside of his clothes.

Someone he didn't remember.

He cried for that person, he cried for himself and lastly, he cried for who ever Rex had been before he'd woken up in the white room.

Only when he could cry no more did he drift off to sleep. His dreams filled with nothing but the alternating blackness and white that made up the only bit of the world he knew. The only thing he remembered.


My own story kind of bummed me out. I try imaging what it must be like to wake up and know nothing about yourself. I bet it feels hollow inside and I tried to write out that feeling to the best of my abilities. This isn't the Noex pairing I'm used to, but I like it. I hope you all enjoyed my story and will review it for me!

Yours Truly,

Jessica499499