Disclaimer:

I, as the author, only claim to own Paige and any events outside of the mainstream plot. The rest belongs to Marvel Studios.

Thank you! Enjoy!

My alarm woke me up at six-thirty in the morning, blaring out a myriad of Disney mashups. The one that really got me up and moving, however, was the mashup of Mulan songs, my least favorite Disney movie. A woman living in a repressed society, supposed to be seen and not heard, suddenly cuts off her hair and decides that in doing so makes her a warrior, capable of fighting a war. A war that, if she was discovered, would get her killed by her own captain, no less. Ridiculous, in my opinion. The story was too far-fetched for that time period. Add in a talking, fire-breathing lizard, a too human-like cricket, and a grudge-bearing horse, and I was done.

And all for her family's honor, no less.

I understood that honor was a big thing in China back then, but now, honor and family meant nothing. Pushing my thoughts on the movie to the back of my mind, I turned off the alarm and sat up, switching on the light and flinching at the sudden brightness. Long strands of dark brown hair fell into my eyesight, and I impatiently pushed it back behind my ear before swinging my long, pale legs over the edge of my bed. My back cracked loudly as I stretched, making me grumble. Mum wouldn't let me bring my old bed to the new house, and this new mattress wasn't broken in yet.

Mum appeared in the doorway of my room. She was already dressed in a perfectly-pressed business suit, light brown hair pulled back into a sleek, professional bun. "Paige, I expect you to be up and ready to leave by now. I made that very clear last night. Am I understood?"

"I'm walking to school, Mum," was my response. "I'll take Danny, too. Just go to work." Mum's eyes narrowed, taking in my appearance. She frowned, then turned on the heel of her black pumps and left. I rolled my eyes and stood up before moving across my room to open my wardrobe. I hated this place. Over the summer, Mum had moved us—our tiny trio consisting of her, my brother, and myself—from London, England to Los Angeles, California. It was too hot here, too muggy, and everyone was freakishly tan. Mum insisted we leave the house I'd lived in my whole life, my school, and force Danny to leave his friends. To say I was your typical jaded, bitter seventeen-year-old girl was a bit of an understatement.

Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I picked out my clothes and moved into the bathroom that I shared with Danny. He was twelve, and extremely angry about having to move. He hadn't spoken to Mum all summer unless one-word responses counted,that is. He was still "asleep," and I didn't feel the need to "wake" him up just yet. School didn't start until seven-thirty, and we lived a ten-minute walk away. I began brushing through my hair in an attempt to make the rat's nest I'd created last night in my failed quest for comfort more manageable. Once it was at an acceptable level of smooth, I separated a small section from my forehead, starting at my part, and began braiding it back. I pinned it in place and repeated the motion on the other side of my part before bringing the rest of my hair over my right shoulder and braiding it all into one. I changed out of my sleep clothes, consisting of an oversized T-shirt and a pair of shorts, and into a pair of black jean capris and a white tank top. On top of that I added an off-the-shoulder dark blue short sleeved shirt. I added some eyeliner to make my bright green eyes pop, and a black leather choker with an attached silver chain, a small moon pendant hanging from it.

I left the bathroom with my sleep clothes draped over my arm, turning off the light and moving into my little brother's bedroom. "Come on, Dan," I said, hitting the light switch. "Mum's gone, so you can stop pretending." Danny sat up, pushing his unruly black hair out of his eyes. He looked exactly like Dad did, and I swallowed a bitter taste at the thought.

"Thought she'd never leave," he muttered. I watched him stand up and move to his own wardrobe, pulling out a pair of jeans with holes in the knees and a faded blue T-shirt.

"You realise it's like, almost twenty-one degrees out already, right? You're going to die of heat stroke before we get to school."

"Good," Danny said, chucking the jeans back in his wardrobe and pulling out a pair of basketball shorts. "Beats the torture-house. What's for breakfast?"

I shrugged. "Dunno yet," I replied, turning to head downstairs so he could change. "But if you don't hurry up, I'm eating yours too." I stopped in my room to put the sleep clothes in my dirty laundry basket, grab a pair of dark blue ankle socks and my black, lace-up ankle boots and carried it all downstairs. Mum had made breakfast for us, like she always did, and left it under a warmer on the kitchen island. I sat down on one of the stools and put on my shoes before lifting the warmer off to see waffles. Chocolate chip waffles, which happened to be Danny's favorite. She was trying to indirectly get back in his good graces. I snorted and picked one up, tearing it apart with my fingers and eating a bite. The television remote was right beside me, so I picked it up and turned on the screen across the room. I began to lazily flick through the channels, periodically eating a bite of waffle and checking the time on my phone.

When I finally stopped, it was on a Marvel movie—Captain America: The First Avenger. I loved Marvel movies. I always had, even as a little girl. Every new movie meant me begging Mum for money to go to the cinema to see it. I don't know why I was so fascinated with them, but I was. When Danny and I were younger, we'd put on the movies and act them out, going so far as to memorize certain lines. I missed those days. When we were happy. When Dad was there to temper Mum when she got in one of her power moods. When I still had friends.

Danny walked down the stairs, into the kitchen, and said, "What do you think?" His voice perfectly followed Steve's lines, and he was holding his rucksack like one would a shield. I picked up the fork I was supposed to be using, aimed it at him, and pretended to shoot. Danny ducked behind the rucksack. After the sounds of gunshots on the movie stopped, I lowered the fork and Danny peeked out from behind the bag.

I smiled at him. "I think it works," I replied sweetly, saying Peggy's lines along with her. Danny grinned, a rare sight to see in nearly three months, and dropped his rucksack at the end of the island before sitting next to me. Upon seeing breakfast, he rolled his eyes, but picked up a waffle and began eating it. We ate in silence, and while Danny put the used dishes in the dishwasher, I moved over to the door to check my own rucksack. I had some binders with notes and such from previous years. I had two textbooks, both bought in England to allow me to do extra studying in Latin and Biology. I also had my laptop, a calculator, and a Zippit pencil case that I'd had since Year Six. It was old and covered in graphite by now, but it still worked, and it was one of the only things I still had from my childhood.

I checked the time, shoved my phone into my back pocket, and shouldered my rucksack. "Come on, Danny," I called. "We have to go." I heard the television shut off, followed by my brother's footsteps, and then I led the way outside into the damp Los Angeles heat. I waited for him to lock and close the door before we set off down the sidewalk, heading towards school. As I just moved, I didn't have an American driver's license, so unless Mum drove us, we had to walk.

After several minutes of silence, Danny asked, "What'll American school be like, you think? Think we'll be in the same building?"

I shook my head. "Don't think so," I told him. "The school system here is weird. I'm Year Twelve, which they call senior year in high school. You're Year Six, which is what they call junior high. They're separate buildings, but they're right across from each other."

My brother groaned in disgust. "Ugh, so I'll be the new kid all by myself?"

I smirked at him. I'd be in the same situation at my school. "Been practicing your American accent, right?" I asked, elbowing his shoulder gently.

"No. What about you?" He asked, trying to be smart.

I cleared my throat and, in my best American accent, said, "Of course I have. You'll not only be the new kid, but the new British kid. I'll just blend in." Danny laughed and shoved his shoulder into me, making me laugh, too. The schools had come into sight, and I felt nerves and anger set back in. Why did Mum have to make us move all the way to America? It didn't matter now.

"Paige?" Danny asked, voice quiet. I hummed in response and looked down at my brother. It was then I saw the fear in his grey eyes, how tense he was, and realized that he was only twelve, across an ocean and was about to be thrust into a bullpen all alone. "Can you. . . can you come inside with me?"

I dropped my arm over his shoulder and pulled him close. "Of course, Danny," I murmured. Together we walked into his building and into the office just inside the door. I made sure Danny got his schedule, which contained all of his classes, and even helped him find his first one.

Standing outside the door, I waved at him and said, "Bye. I'll come get you after school, okay?" He nodded, started to walk inside, but then hesitated. Just as I was about to ask him what was wrong, he turned on his heel and flung himself at me, wrapping his arms around me in a hug and squeezing me tight. "Danny, what's up with you? It's not like I'm going off to war or something. I'll see you after school."

"I know," he said. "But mid-level kids are mean. Upper-level kids must be worse." I hugged back, because for all the times he got angry at me being able to practically read his mind, he was able to read mine this time. A second later, Danny pulled back, smiled up at me, and waved before turning back to head into his classroom. I watched him walk up to his teacher, hand her a slip the office had given him to get signed by all of his teachers, and then walk back to a desk and sit down. The boy next to him said something, and my brother replied and they bumped fists.

"Mid-level kids are mean, huh?" I murmured, turning away from the room and beginning to walk back towards the exit. Out of curiosity, I pulled out my phone and checked the time. My eyes widened when I realized I had less than five minutes to get over to the high school, get my own schedule, and find my first class. I walked as fast as I could until I was out of the building, but began sprinting once outside.

As I ran, I noticed that there weren't any other people about, and the road to my left was strangely empty. Something about it bothered me. The emptiness of the sidewalks I could logically explain: school was about to start, and all the kids were inside. Where I needed to be. The road, however, was something I couldn't explain. Los Angeles was a city, and cities were busy. I learned that in London. But morning work rush wasn't over yet, so why would the road be completely devoid of vehicles?

Unfortunately, while my attention was diverted, my foot skidded on a pebble and sent me sprawling forward with a silent yelp. I threw my hands out in front of me to catch myself, but just before I hit the ground, I felt something tug my body forward. It was almost as if someone had grabbed my wrists and yanked them—but I had bigger problems now, because suddenly, I wasn't just falling. No, now I was twisting and tumbling through thin air without touching the ground. Flashes of blue practically blinded me, and the wind picked up until it was roaring in my ears, as if I was going very fast. I let out a small scream and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the blue flashes. Suddenly, everything went dark.

And then everything stopped entirely, and I was falling once again.

This is Kenna signing off until next chapter.