Heyyy sorry it's been a minute. I've had this chapter written for a while but each time I read through it I find more issues and I should probably read through it one more time but I just want to get this out before I get back to studying. I'm on no sleep and feel insane. Somehow I'm supposed to take two AP exams tomorrow so that will be fun. Thx so much to everyone who followed and favorited, it means so so much. Also, I'm planning on have the OC "meet" the avengers in chapter 10, fingers crossed.

Hackslash27x7: Thank you for reviewing, I'm so glad you liked the chapter!

Chapter 7: +

February 8th, 2011

"Get up."

I stifled a groan, and instead obediently stumble to my feet. My legs were jelly and I could barely feel them enough to force them to cooperate. I couldn't remember the last time I slept. It was like one never ending day. Or more accurately, a nightmare.

And whenever I stopped to think, all that filled my mind was Grant. The scientists and doctors that killed him hadn't even died in the blast. I'd had to listen to the Doctor as he raged on, ecstatic about the newfound power they'd given me. I had looked at my brother's corpse while he'd told me that my mother's new formula had been flawed and that they'd only half expected it to work from the beginning. Not that it would stop them from continuing to experiment with it, trying it on more and more innocent victims. That it was worth it, because I was created. Worth his death. That's why I usually tried not to think about it.

Whoosh.

I ducked just in time to avoid the Bo Staff on it's war path for my head. I dropped to one knee and popped back up before I could get screamed at again. The concrete room swam, the bright lights leaving spots in my vision.

The brutal, wooden staff arcs in a blur toward me, but my hands are too late to even attempt to block it. The stick crushed my already bruised and bleeding knuckles before slamming into my side, pushing all the air from my lungs. I landed in a heap on the uncovered stone floor, alternating between sucking for air and dry heaving.

"Get up." The heavily accented voice commanded me again. Every week it's another trainer, another obscure fighting technique. Hydra had been flying me to whatever teachers are the masters of their unique methods for the last year. I'd never known where, of course, but the air here was definitely thinner, as if I was always breathing through a thin straw. Now, I was "learning" bojutsu, but I wasn't good enough to get my own staff yet.

I forced myself on my knees, trembling with the effort as my body was cursing me out for even trying. I was pulled to my feet by one of the two armed guards always standing by the heavy metal door. The thick gloves gripped under my arms and I struggled to remain conscious as I was pushed back on my feet and regained my footing.

"Again."

I leaped to the side as he stabbed at me again, the staff impaling empty space as I landed in a painful roll. The man turned, surprised. Sometimes I felt bad for them. I know they're not doing this voluntarily, that Hydra is forcing them somehow. That sympathy dissipated as he charged me, yelling in a language I didn't understand.

This was bullshit. If they wouldn't play fair, I'd just play by my own rules. I stood still, waiting for the right moment before I threw my hand up, my small and grasping for a hold on his neck. He froze, the wooden staff landing on the floor with a loud clatter, and I unleashed my power.

After the experiment three months ago, I was different. They're plan didn't exactly work out how they intended. Instead of being the key to everlasting life, I could steal it. It had to be skin to skin contact, and the longer I held on, the more of it I was able to take.

I tugged at the trainer's energy gently, not enough to kill, just knock him out. His irises disappeared into the back of his head and his body went limp in my arms. The guards were on me instantly, one pulling me to the side while the other removed the trainer's body from the room.

I stood motionless in the middle of the room, waiting. Once, they'd turned the temperature down and made me stand an entire two days without sleep as punishment. When I passed out, the they would just tase me with shock sticks until I got up again. As I was mentally preparing for something similar, the door opened and a teenaged boy, just a few years older than me, walked in.

Well, walked was a strong word. More like dragged.

"Fucker." He said, spitting at one of the men. They threw him to the ground, where he rolled until he was a few feet away from my bare toes.

The boy looked at me, somehow not as surprised as I was. He had skin was dark, like coffee with just a hint of creamer, and bright, grey eyes. He was wearing similar clothes to mine; grey sweatpants and a boxy tank top. However, while mine was loose and baggy, my arms sticking out like bony tree branches, his were thick and muscled. He crouched down, stance in a fighting position.

"What's your name?" The boy asked, his voice was strange and unearthly.

"Nine." I stammered. Ninth to live through the first twenty-four hours. Not that anyone had ever asked me specifically before. Whoever I came into contact with was usually already aware of what I was.

"No, your real name." He clarified. My forehead wrinkled in confusion.

"Ashlee." I whispered it so quiet I was surprised he even heard it.

"I'm Julian." He said. I barely listened, looking instead around the room. Why was he here here?

"Isn't it obvious? They want us to fight." He said gently. I looked at him, horrified. "Don't worry, non lethal force only."

I bent my knees, mimicking his stance. I wasn't scared of getting beat. I'd only been with Hydra for almost a year and a half, but that time had been filled with countless hours of training and fighting. They'd just never made me fight another kid before.

"I'm fifteen and you don't need to worry about killing me." His words felt wrong. I realized it right as my own hand, already balled in a fist, flew toward my face. The punch glanced off my jawbone. I took a step forward, only to find my left foot stuck to the ground.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I screamed.

"Don't use words like that. You're like ten."

"You just said it! And I'm eleven." I yelled back at him, fighting the urge to touch my throbbing cheek. I'd kill him, screw non lethal force. All I had to do was touch him. I sent a kick to his knees, but only succeeded in knocking my own legs out from under myself. My forehead collided with the concrete, my hands too slow to catch me. How was he doing this?

"It's telepathy. I'm like you." Julian's lips were still, but his voice was crystal clear in my mind, impossible to ignore.

"Get out of my head!" I screamed at him. Behind us, I could hear the guards chuckling in amusement. I hated it when they laughed. In a way, it was worse than them just beating me. I'd much rather get punched in the face than mocked. Julian didn't pay them any attention, his hand instead reaching to help me up.

"You won't need to worry about that for much longer, Ashlee. We're going to escape."