Following my long awaited graduation from University, I finally get to get back into writing! Yay! And here is my latest foray, and first non-Harry Potter piece. It is a X-Men/Marvel Cinematic Universe crossover that takes place in the new Universe following X-Men: Days of Future Past. It is Canon-compliant with the MCU as much as I can get it, but may become non-compliant with future releases, such as X-Men: Apocolypse, as I cannot see into the future to incorporate it into my story now.

The main pairing will be Steve Rogers (Captain America)/OFC, but there will be other side pairings, both het and slash. The pairing, obviously will not happen for a few chapters, but be patient and enjoy my stumblings into character creation and development. Thanks!

First chapter is rather short, others will be longer. Hopefully not too long between updates until I'm caught up with where the MCU films are now. I already have chapters 6-10 (events of post-Captain America through The Avengers) mostly written, it's just writing the bits before that now!

Title comes from the Taylor Swift song of the same name.

I Know Places
by HeadGirl91

Chapter 1

Just A Game

I never thought I was different. I mean, my friends and I would play the game when I was in elementary school. If you were a mutant, what power do you think you'd have? As children will do, our answers changed practically every time. I can't even remember half of my answers. I didn't take it too seriously. I knew it was just a game. Until it wasn't.

I was eleven years old. It was a sunny Saturday afternoon in June and my parents were driving me back from a gymnastics meet in Albany, New York. It was only a little over an hour's drive from our home, where my mom was one of only two dentists in the small town and my dad was the best electrician, he told me. I held a small trophy in my hands, clutching at it like I was afraid that it would disappear if I let it go. The small plaque read:

Bridget Olivia Benson

1st Place

Floor Exercises

Floor was where I excelled in gymnastics. I wasn't overly keen on heights, a strange trait in a gymnast, I knew. I was determined to overcome my fear and kept practicing on the beam and bars whenever I could, but I wasn't yet confident to compete in them, preferring floor and vault. I had placed fifth in vault that day, as well.

"Mom..." I wheedled from the back seat. "Can we go out for ice cream?"

Mom glanced at me quickly in the mirror before turning her eyes back to the road.

"We have ice cream at home," she replied.

I groaned. "But only vanilla. I feel like banana fudge."

"That must be weird," Dad quipped. "Feeling like banana fudge."

I rolled my eyes. "That's such a dad joke."

Dad grinned. Mom sighed. "We have bananas and fudge sauce in the cupboard. What do you say we make it a banana split? Will that curb your banana fudge craving?"

"Yeah," I grinned. "Thanks!"

People were always shocked by the fact that my mom, the dentist, let me eat sweets. She always said, though, that as long as I brushed and flossed, and didn't go over the top with them, that it would be okay.

Suddenly, Dad yelled, "Look out!"

Mum swerved, there was the sound of metal scraping against metal, bright, blue lights, and all went dark.

The first thing I saw when I woke up was white. Everything was white. It nearly blinded me. All the white.

I felt movement beside me and turned my head. I immediately wished I hadn't when pain shot through my head.

"Ow." Tears came to my eyes. I didn't know where I was, what was going on.

"Bridget?" The woman who had moved beside me, catching my attention, now leaned over me, concernedly. She was pretty, with shoulder length red hair. "Bridget, I'm Dr. Grey. You're in the hospital. Do you remember what happened?"

I frowned, which hurt, so I stopped that. Did I remember? Remember what?

Then it all came back to me. The car. The scraping of metal on metal. The bright lights. The dark.

Mom and Dad.

Tears came to my eyes and I blinked to clear my vision. "My..." My throat constricted. "My mom and dad... are they..?"

Dr. Grey shook her head softly. "I'm sorry, Bridget."

I cried. I cried hard and I didn't care how much it hurt because the pain I was feeling in my heart was so much worse.

It took me a while to calm down, but once I had, Dr. Grey told me what had happened. Another driver had taken a corner too fast and swerved, unable to take control fast enough, and hit our car head-on. According to eyewitnesses, a bright blue dome of light had sprung up around me as soon as the car hit, seemingly protecting me from the damage that killed my parents almost instantly.

"Are you saying..?" I asked, a sob catching in my throat.

"Yes," Dr. Grey confirmed. "You seem to have a mutation and we would like to offer you a place at our school so that you can learn to control..."

I didn't hear much more. Everything was white noise.

Mutant.

But it was just a game...

Dr. Grey accompanied me to my parents' funeral. My mom's partner, Dr. Gregory, patted my head awkwardly and gave me some empty words about how she would be missed. My dad's soccer team presented me with his team shirt, which I took with a quiet 'thank you.' Bethany, my mom's receptionist and friend bent down and pulled me into a hug.

"Are you going to be okay, Bridgy?" she asked, tucking a curl behind my ear. I nodded against her.

"Yeah," I murmured, pulling away. "They're taking me to a school in Westchester," I explained, motioning to Dr. Grey, behind me.

"Okay," Bethany said, not entirely convinced. "You have my number and my address if you ever need me, right?" I nodded.

She looked up to Dr. Grey. "Take care of her?" It was more a command than a request. Dr. Grey nodded, sharply.

"Of course."

Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters was a huge manor house in Westchester, New York. It was to be my home from now on. I was told that there were several 'year-rounders', who had no other home to go to during the holidays, so I wouldn't be alone.

Dr. Grey took me to meet the Principal, who she called the 'Headmaster' – it was that kind of school, I supposed.

He was a bald, wheelchair-bound man who looked to be nearing sixty, at least. I wasn't too good at guessing ages.

He smiled at me.

"Welcome," he said, but he didn't move his lips. I stepped back in alarm. "Don't worry," he said, moving his lips this time. "I was just demonstrating what I could do for you. I am what they call a telepath, Miss Benson. My name is Professor Charles Xavier and it is a pleasure to have you at our school."