"You really don't remember anything, kid?" The brown haired woman following close behind him shook her head.
"Nope. I don't remember a thing… Minus that I'm pretty sure that these clothes are mine, and this ring.." She brings the ring up again, looking at it for the seemingly hundredth time during their walk.
"Abigail..." The Soldier looks back, not ceasing in his stride.
"That your name, kid?" Abbie smiles, raising and eyebrow at him questioningly. He chuckles softly, readjusting his rifle.
"Yeah, yeah. 'I don't know.'" She laughs too, happily skipping alongside the soldier.
"So, where are we going?" Abigail glances around at the trees, looking for any clue as to where they're going.
"This way." He smiles, half-laughing. She groans, rolling her eyes.
"Obviously! And don't say, 'To find a place to rest.' Either!" She scowls at him, trying to look intimidating. The Soldier thinks for a minute, contemplating what to say.
"We're searching for an abode to relax our weary legs." He laughs, seeing the woman's annoyed expression.
"An organization I used to work with had bases across the globe. One of their smaller one just so happens to not be too far away from here." She smiles brightly, finally receiving an answer.
"Sweet! Is it like, a mansion? Or a cool medical lab? Or a secret weapons bunker, or-!" The Soldier cuts her off, pointing at an old, run down shack.
"There it is." Abbie's face falls instantly, trying to look around the old shack.
"Is it like… Behind it?" The Soldier shakes his head, walking up to the door. He would've opened it… Had it not fallen off it's hinges as soon as he tried to.
"That's one top secret door. Has it's own self-destruct mechanism and everything." Abbie says sarcastically, staying relatively close to the Soldier.
"You're damn right kid. State of the Art stuff right there."
They both laugh, peeking inside. After the Soldier makes sure it's clear, He walks to a far wall kicking a spot low to the ground.
"I know the place looks horrible, but you don't have to treat it so horribly. Just needs a couch, maybe a mini-fridge, and this place'd be perfect!" Throughout her little demonstration, she failed to notice The Soldier typing into a keypad.
I really hope Gabe always used that same stupid password.. He prayed to himself, typing it in. While also humming a really, really old tune. 5-3-0-9.
He was rewarded, with a very loud and irritating screeching sound.
"Ow ow ow ow ow!" Abbie said loudly, instantly covering her ears.
"Turn it off!" She yelled out. The Soldier just smiled under his mask.
"What?"
"Turn it off!"The Soldier kept smiling. He felt bad… But it wasn't his fault his mask came with noise canceling earpieces.
"TURN! IT!- Oh.." By the time she finished talking, the noise had stopped, revealing a dimly lit staircase built into the ground. Abbie quietly mutters to herself.
"Tick Tock, Alice! We're gonna be late.."


"Is everything associated with you so.. Dark, Edgy, and Awesome?" I wondered out loud, following The Soldier down the dark stair case.
"Not always, kid. I had some friends… They we're bright. Cheerful. Like you." Oh my Go- gosh! He looked back at me. I could feel myself blushing.
"You miss them. Don't you." I could hear him sigh, his head dropping for a second.
"Yeah. Yeah I do, kid. I really do." I could feel the sadness in his voice.. The regret.
"Why can't you visit them? They're not… Gone, are they?" He shakes his head, opening a door to another staircase.
"No. They're still very much alive. The ones I know of, anyway… But I haven't visited them because they think I'm dead. And in all honestly… I am. The man I used to be, anyway." I looked at him sadly as he started fiddling with something. Some big rectangly thing.
"You're a real Super Hero, aren't you? The whole 'Fallen From Grace' Story arch and such." He looks over at me. Smiling, scowling? I dunno. Stupid mask.
"They had to get the idea for the story from somewhere, didn't they?" I hummed in acknowledgment. He had a point.
"Either that, or you got the idea from them." He laughs again, the thing he was working on buzzing to life, lights flickering on in the room.
"Now we can see around the place. Come on, you're probably hungry. I know I am."


"So we have quite a veriety here, Mr. thirty eight. We can have Peanut Butter, Crunchy Peanut Butter, or… Ooh my gosh! Spaghetti O's!" I squealed in delight. I loved Spaghetti O's when I was a kid! I think… Did I? I heard the Soldier chuckle behind me.
"Are you sure? Peanut Butter sounds pretty nice." I hold the can close to me, looking at him dangerously.
"It better. These are mine! All mine." He laughs again, watching as I get out a pot to cook the Spaghetti O's in. I put it on the stove, opening the can, heating up my delicious meal. Then, I heard the Soldier speak. But it was… Different. Softer. Less, robotic.
"Jesse loved those, too." I could hear the smile in his voice. But alongside that, the sadness. I slowly turned around, and the first thing I saw…
"That thing comes off?" I said, almost a little too loud. He just laughed in response.
"Yes, it does. The rest of it does, too, by the way. It's not built into my face or anything." I just stared at him, not knowing what to say. So I said the smartest thing I could.
"You're kinda hot…" Wow, really brain? Thanks… He laughed, seeing the blush on my face.
"Thanks? Glad to see my looks haven't gone away throughout the years." I turn away, 'Busying' myself with my Spaghetti O's.
"Jack." I glance over my shoulder at him, confused.
"My names Jack. Jack Morrison." I smile, going back to stirring my Spaghetti O's.
"So, what happens next? After this amazing bowl of Spaghetti O's, of course." I start to pour them into into a bowl, grabbing a spoon. I sit at the bar, next to Jack. He sighs, setting his rifle onto the table.
"Not entirely sure, kid. I'd say you could go along with me, but-" I interrupted him, already knowing my answer.
"Yes." He looked over at me curiously.
"What?" I sighed. What part of yes, I want to be a super hero too, do you not get..
"I said yes. I want to come along with you." Now it was his turn to sigh.
"Only after I train you. Simple things at first. You know how to use a gun?" I shrugged my shoulders, eating more of my Spaghetti O's.
"I played a lot of Call of Duty when I was a kid, does that count?" Jack rolled his eyes, shaking his head.
"No, kid. That most certainly does not count." I pouted, finishing the rest of my Spaghetti O's.
"Hmpf. Fine…"


"Do you even know how to hold a gun?" I roll my eyes, holding the pistol carefully.
"Of course I do! I'm not idiot!" I hold the pistol up and pointing it at the far wall, where Jack had set up a target.
"Finger off the trigger, kid. Until you're ready to shoot." I roll my eyes, pulling the trigger. I hit the target.
"Barely." I lower the gun, looking over at Jack. He'd put his visor back on.
"What? What do you mean, barely?" I look back at the target, frowning. I hot the top corner.
"I mean you barely hit the target. Try again." I sigh, raising the pistol back up to my right eye, lining up the sights. I breathe as steadily as I can, my arms swaying slightly. I gently squeeze the trigger, closing my eyes as soon as it fires.
"Better. Try again." I look down at the target. I hit the edge of the big circle. Great… He probably thinks I'm an idiot… I aim again, gently squeezing the trigger.
"Come on, kid. I know you can do better than that." I growl in frustration, glancing over at him for a second. Shut up… I quickly aim down range again, squeezing off another shot.
"Damn… You didn't even hit the target." I roll my eyes, dropping my left hand to my side.
"Kid, you're not gonna hit-" I ignored him, quickly pulling the trigger every time the shot lined up. The shots rang out, the sound of the rounds hitting the wall echoing down the halls.

"Well I'll be damned…"


He was right…
"So, maybe pistols aren't your specialty." I rolled my eyes, laying down on the couch in the commons room.
"Nooo, you think?" He laughed, sitting in one of the recliners.
"Maybe at point blank range, you could be. But other than that? Nah. And don't get me started on that one handed fury thing you had." I groaned in anger, throwing one of the pillows from the couch at him.
"Shut it! It was my first time. I think. I don't know." He finally settled down, tossing the pillow gently back to me.
"So, what is this place? How'd you know there was a secret shack base thing down here?" He simply shrugged his shoulders, taking his Visor off again, along with his jacket. He was wearing a simple white shirt underneath it.
"I authorized it to be built. Never thought we'd actually use it. Well, not like this anyway." I rolled over to look at him, clearly interested. He sighed, relaxing into the couch.
"You want the whole story, don't you?" I nod quickly, not taking my eyes off of him.
"Mhm. Are you like, Bruce Wayne And Batman? But in order to become Batman you faked your death?" He shook his head, smiling in amusement.
"No. The whole 'Fake your death' thing came as a surprise. Hell, I thought I was dead, too." I shook my head, pulling a solid black blanket with a weird logo over me.
"From the beginning." I said, looking at him expectantly. He sighed, smiling again.

"Fine. The whole thing. It all started on a farm, in Bloomington, Indiana."

"Whats Indiana?" He sighed, face palming.
"Dear lord..."