So this is an idea I've been playing with in my head for the guts of about two years, and Ragnarok restored my love for the series so I thought I'd try my hand at this!

I hope you like it!

Chapter 1: An Observer

The crowds bustling through New York were as unobservant as ever.

They muttered insults or expletives as they were shoved off course by a small, slight figure, irritated by her behaviour and the lack of an apology thrown their way as the figure moved quickly and with more force than they believed required.

Gylfie's chest burned, not suited for running for such a long time. But she didn't stop. Couldn't stop. She continued to run, her feet hitting the pavement lightly and barely making a sound as she didn't slow down, pushing herself to keep going. She forced herself to keep her breathing even, despite the compulsion that was tugging at her to breathe more deeply and replenish the air she'd lost.

Finally she broke away from the crowd, darting down an alleyway and into the shadows it provided. Gylfie didn't stop there, reaching the end and falling to her knees as her hands, covered in gloves despite the early summer heat, scrambled in the dirt to lift the cover of a manhole.

As Gylfie's fingers caught a latch to lift the heavy metal cover, a boot slammed into her side. She slammed into the wall, choking on her own cry and sliding to the ground, just about remaining on her hands and knees. Her entire body shook from exhaustion and fear as she looked up, her dark eyes focusing on the five people who had caught up to her. They smirked down at her, victory assured as she froze in fear.

"You're fast, freak," one spoke. He carried a metal bar in one hand, hitting it lightly against an open palm to intimidate her. Gylfie swallowed, tears springing to her eyes as they moved closer. "But not fast enough. Trying to hide in the sewers like the filth you are?" he taunted her.

"Please..." her voice was soft and shook. "Please just leave me alone," she pleaded with them, but all it did was cause them to start chuckling, exchanging smirks.

"No can do, freak," the young man who seemed to be the ringleader shook his head. "Your kind are polluting my city, and I'm done with it," he declared, raising the bar. Gylfie let out a cry, covering her head in an attempt to protect herself, before a gust of wind picked up. "What the hell?!" she heard the man cry out in alarm. There was a low clang of metal hitting the ground nearby, away from the group.

"Hey!" one of the women yelped as the wind continued. It blew Gylfie's large beanie off her head, and instead of hair, black and white feathers spilled out from underneath, falling around her face. They spread down her neck, disappearing under the collar of her jacket, giving her more of a bird-like appearance.

"Honestly Glimmer," her eyes shot open, and her head lifted at the use of the name. "I think you should join the do-gooders, if you're still refusing to use your powers to defend yourself," Gylfie stared at the new arrival; a young woman leaning against the wall. She was slight, almost underweight, wearing a sleeveless red hoody, denim shorts, and a pair of running shoes, with silver hair that fell around her shoulders and curled out. Her blue eyes gleamed with something, and by her feet lay the weapons that all five of the attackers had been carrying.

"You," the leader hissed, his gaze morphing to one of utter disgust. The newcomer smirked, and Gylfie realised it was malice in her eyes.

"I see you're still playing the jock," she mocked. "How fast did your popularity drop, when everyone found out you'd been dating a freak?" his face turned bright red as his fury grew.

"I've been wanting to do this for a long time," he snarled, cracking his knuckles. He took a step towards her, and she blurred out of view for just a moment, and the young man hit the ground. Blood streamed from his nose, which was bent at an awkward angle.

"And I've been wanting to do that for longer," the young woman smirked, and her blue eyes moved to the rest of the group, who were trying to hide their fear. She snorted, seeing it clearly. "Your bravado didn't last long once you faced someone who isn't scared to put you on your asses," she commented.

"Ciara, don't-" Gylfie pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears. The young woman blurred out of view again, and a gust of wind picked up in the alleyway as she moved at speeds far too fast to register. In less than 5 seconds, all four had joined their leader on the ground, unconscious. "You didn't have to do that," Gylfie's voice was soft as she managed to get to her feet, wincing at the pain that made itself apparent in her side where she'd been kicked. Moving slowly, she lifted her hat to hide her odd bird features under her hat.

"You'd rather I let you get yourself killed?" Ciara asked as she searched through the leader's wallet, lifting the money and tossing the wallet aside. Gylfie didn't reply, but her unhappiness with her rescue was obvious. She didn't speak, instead watching as Ciara continued to search the pockets of the attackers, and lifted any cash they had on them. "You might not regard your life too much," in an instant, Ciara was in front of Gylfie, the malice gone and replaced with a look of boredom. Gylfie jumped at the sudden movement. "But your leader does. As do the X-Nerds. I already have enough people out for my blood, I don't need more," she said, tossing another wallet away.

"One day you'll need to pick a side and stick to it, Ciara," Gylfie warned her, her voice still soft. Ciara snorted.

"Not likely," she turned away, and Gylfie didn't miss the kick she delivered to the ringleader. "Sides are boring and don't offer any sort of entertainment to me," Ciara walked towards the entrance of the alleyway, and Gylfie hesitated before sighing.

"Thank you, for your help," she spoke up, more loudly. Ciara stopped, and after a moment, turned her head. The bored expression that Gylfie had long ago come to associate with Ciara was still on her face.

"I can't say it was out of the kindness of my heart. I've been wanting an excuse to break his nose since we were teenagers," she shrugged. Gylfie's frown grew in her confusion.

"What you said before...did you date-"

"Ew, no, credit me with some standards," Ciara snorted. "I just know the Little Miss Perfect who only got standards after dating him for months," she chuckled. "But whatever, don't think this is me 'picking sides' or whatever. You know who I am, and a hero isn't it," she told Gylfie. The bird-like young woman rolled her eyes.

"You never change," she muttered. Ciara smirked.

"Why would I want to?" she asked, and flickered out of view. Gylfie sighed, and made for the sewers.

"I wish I had your confidence," she murmured to herself, disappearing into the darkness.

The group of school girls whispered to each other curiously in the library, their eyes on Ciara as she skimmed through the books in the section they were supposed to be looking in.

"Her hair is so pretty."

"She's too thin, it's kinda gross."

"What's she looking for?"

"Wonder if she's one of them," the whispers reached Ciara, who tried to ignore them, but couldn't deny her amusement at how poorly the girls could keep their comments to themselves. She lifted another book and flicked through the pages, not dignifying the spectators with a reaction. To them, it seemed as if she was searching for something in particular and wasn't really reading what was on the pages, but that was not the case.

She sang a song under her breath, the theme song to some cartoon she'd seen that morning, searching through the books for what she was looking for.

Finally she shut a book with a snap, making the girls watching jump, and looked at them. Only one caught her eye, and she winked, returning the book to the shelf before walking out, smiling pleasantly at the girl. She flushed and looked away, embarrassed at being caught, and Ciara left the library.

"Think I dodged a bullet," she considered in amusement, walking down the steps and continuing down the street. Ciara couldn't even begin to imagine herself as a normal schoolgirl, even back when she had been in school. She pulled a lollipop from her pocket and pulled off the wrapper before sticking it into her mouth, and stopped as she watched another group of kids chattering away to each other, laughing as they passed her without a second glance. Something uncomfortable stirred in her gut, before she shook her head and continued walking.

A gust of wind picked up through the streets, powerful and knocked people off balance. A few people let out startled cries at the power of the wind, unaware of the cause as Ciara ran by, picking up a few wallets and anything else that caught her interest. As she moved at this speed, everyone around her was seemingly frozen in time, leaving them unable to stop – or even see – Ciara as she continued along.

"My burger!" one man wailed as he lowered his arm to find his food had vanished from his plate.

"Urgh, lettuce," Ciara grimaced, pulling the leaves from the burger as she sat on a low roof. Her legs dangled over the side as she watched people walking by, carrying on with their lives. She took a bite out of the burger, and with her other hand skimmed through an article on her phone.

"Keeping up to date with current events?" she didn't look up, only blinking, as a male voice spoke up behind her.

"This whole "Iron Man" business is entertaining," she answered as an older man took a seat beside her.

"It's a pain in my ass," he muttered, making Ciara smirk.

"I didn't think you were assigned to his case, Barton," she commented, still not looking up from her phone.

"Doesn't mean it's not a pain in my ass," Clint answered her. "What's your interest in Stark's superhero project?" he asked.

"Why? What's yours?" Ciara looked at him, her eyes shimmering with curiosity. Clint didn't reply, and she shook her head. "Of course. Classified," she snorted, looking back at her phone again. "Though I don't think your boss cares too much for the fact that Stark got his butt handed to him and lost the tech to the military," she commented. Clint gave the smallest of sighs, and Ciara almost missed it. "Right after he kicked that dude's butt in Monaco," Ciara continued to scroll through the information gathered on the world famous "Iron Man", the newest Superhero who had revealed himself right after a huge fight and explosion in New York.

After a moment, she let out a frustrated sigh and shoved it back into her pocket, earning a small smile from the man. "I hate technology. It's too slow," Ciara complained, resting her chin in her hands. "What's got you tracking me down?" she asked, watching the people below still.

"Don't play dumb with me kid, you know exactly what you've done this time," Clint told her, the tinge of amusement still in his voice.

"Do I?" Ciara asked, innocence in her voice that might have fooled someone who didn't know her as well. When she didn't get a response, she shrugged, abandoning her pretence quickly. "Are you here to arrest me?" she asked, looking at the man beside her.

"Nah, not yet," instead, he offered her a sandwich, which disappeared from his hand faster than he could blink. "Still eating well I see," Clint commented as Ciara finished it off.

"Get off my case Barton, just be glad I ain't off robbing banks or worse," she rolled her eyes dismissively.

"You know that's not the point. You're breaking into places you shouldn't be. At this rate we're going to have to take you in," he warned. Ciara was silent, her expression returning to the bored one, and she looked back out at the people below.

"I'm not a child any more. I don't need you looking after me," she said softly, and stood up. "Thanks for the sandwich," Ciara said shortly as she jumped off the small ledge back onto the roof. "And good luck with trying to take me in," she added, laughing to herself as she left. Clint shook his head, lifting his phone.

Practically throwing herself onto the moth-eaten sofa, Ciara sprawled across it on her front, her head turned to the side.

"What a day," she sighed, her legs kicking in the air behind her. She wasn't tired physically; that was a rarity in itself. But mentally she was fed up, having helped out Gylfie and lectured by both her and Clint. That was exactly why she preferred to be alone. Nobody to criticise her methods or try and stop her from doing what she had to do.

As her mind drifted to that, her gaze settled on the papers scattered across the table beside the sofa. Some were on the floor, discarded as useless. Another failed investigation. Scoffing, she turned her head away, closing her eyes.

She fell asleep quickly, still sprawled across her sofa with one hand dangling off and lightly brushing the carpet. At first it was dreamless, and her muscles relaxed and her face became peaceful, but too soon the dreams came. Ciara let out a whimper, rolling onto her side as her breathing turned erratic. At first they were dreams of her past, of memories she would rather burn than be reminded of, but then they changed.

Flashes of blue haunted her dreams, filled with people she didn't know and images she didn't recognise, of a time that seemed far earlier than her own.

As they finally started to come into shape, Ciara rolled over again, and woke with a start as she fell off her sofa. She landed on her arm with a soft thud, and blinked rapidly, moving at her enhanced speed to get to her feet and look around as if there was an intruder who had pulled her out of her sleep. When the haze of sleep finally faded, she let out a sigh, and sat down heavily.

Sweat ran down her face, and when she glanced outside, she saw that night had fallen. Ciara let out a shaky breath, running a hand through her hair. "Well...that was different," she murmured.

Let me know what you think!

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