CherryBlossoms016: Thanks for the input on the names! So you said you'd like May to be her original name, but she's going by Emma, and I think that's a great idea, but I really put some thought into it (as in, I looked it up on the internet) and May is more of a modern name than Emma, so to keep things as accurate as possible I'm going to reverse that. Please don't hate me forever. I definitely like Emma for an original name, though. Maybe it could be short for something...?

Happy Fourth of July! I wish you good picnics and lots of fireworks.

Anyway, this week I've continuously gotten sick. First I had a fever for the whole weekend, and I've just gotten hands, foot, and mouth disease from my niece (which only children are supposed to get) but that's just my non-existent immune system.

I'm aware this is a rather short chapter, so I debated with myself on whether to give you all another go at the holiday special. In other words

CAUTION - WARNING - DON'T GO FURTHER WITHOUT READING - YOU'LL SERIOUSLY REGRET IT

If, by Wednesday the 6th of July, I have a total of 15 reviews (that's, like, 5 more, guys!) I will post the next chapter on that day.

To raise your incentive: It's Bucky's chapter!

To raise it even more: I plan on having the chapter after that in Bucky's POV, possibly. We'll see. (You'll have to tell me what you think of that).

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize other than my own stuff.

[o]

Chapter 10

A Name

(Not A Title)

To be given a title is to be given a purpose – your title is what you are. If you're the prankster, what can you do but prank? If you're a captain, what can you do but lead? I think I've gone long enough with my title, though, because my purpose is not what my title has entitled me for.

To be given a name is to be given an identity – the name given by a loved one, the cruel jabs from bullies. They all go toward your identity, however you take them. I think I've gone long enough without a real purpose, and it's about time I got my own identity.

…

Since I was still recovering from injuries and aches, it was determined that only Steve and Natasha would go get the wings Sam once used and, since Sam himself wasn't a super soldier or a trained assassin/spy, he would be staying as well.

Once the two had taken off again in the 'borrowed' car I felt the dread build up again, simply because I knew he'd want to ask questions I wouldn't want to answer, and also because it takes a lot for me to trust people, and even though Steve trusts him, and I trust Steve, I'd only just met the guy a few hours ago.

I was pleasantly surprised, though, when he just sat down on the couch with a magazine and put his feet up on the coffee table.

"There's a TV, books, magazine…" He trailed off, motioning to the things. "I get the feeling we have a while, so make yourself comfortable." Good idea. One problem, though. I looked around at the things he'd motioned to, and then back to him. I've never really had to make myself comfortable before.

I looked at him again. He looks comfortable. I hesitantly sat down on the sofa across from the couch, then picked up a magazine. Taking a final look at him, I perched my feet up on the table delicately as well – I'd never done that, either – opening the magazine to a random page and tried to get interested in it like he seemed to be interested in his.

My eyes shot up when a chuckle sounded from in front of me, my gaze locking with Sam's.

"What?" I asked. I had gotten comfortable, hadn't I? He shook his head, sitting up normally.

"No, nothing." I followed his lead and sat up, putting the magazine down. "You never did answer my question, though." I didn't need him to clarify which question, and he must've seen the discomfort in my look, though I thought I had hidden it rather well. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." But that's exactly the problem. If I didn't tell him about my ability now, he'd probably just end up figuring out about it later since we were apparently taking him in on our little team of sorts, so I guess I would have to tell him eventually whether I wanted to or not. May as well get it over now, then.

"I can heal people." He took this in stride, which I hadn't really expected though wasn't surprised about either.

"And how'd you learn to do that?" He asked it so normally, as if we were having a simple conversation on the weather.

"I was born this way." The answer was effortless, seamless, and I wondered if telling people deep secrets was supposed to be this easy. "I found out when my brother got sick." His eyebrows went up a fraction of an inch, and I took pleasure in the slight surprise I had given him, all while feeling a pleasant tingle in my throat. It's because I hadn't really vocalized that I had a brother, and while there was a pleasant tingle at the words, there was also a bitter pang in my heart as I remembered my poor brother's fate.

"And I assume you healed him." I nodded slightly; I had healed him, and then he died. For the first time in what felt like ages, though it had only been decades, a lump formed in my throat and tears tickled the back of my eyes. Even though it had been tough and rather awful, I found myself missing my old life. The life where I was still relatively innocent, where mother and I were barely scraping by, but there were always the constants of life accompanying me everywhere. I miss who I used to be – the person who was taken from me so abruptly and forcefully.

I felt harsh memories I hadn't faced in far too long surfacing, and I knew I had to release them just as I had in my dark, empty room back when I was Asset. But I still had enough sense to look Sam deep into the eyes, looking for something – anything – that would like to hurt me in any way. All I found was open curiosity, though, and a growing sense of concern as my silence grew longer.

The concern did it, I think. It's what drew the words out of my throat, and before I knew it I was pouring out all of my concerns and worries, old memories and new experiences, hurts and joys alike, getting mixed between all of the emotions that I could hardly tell whether I was saying what my brain was thinking anymore.

I was relieved when he didn't say anything hurtful as I spoke, but even more grateful that he didn't ignore me as I was so afraid he would. I couldn't handle being looked past anymore; I'm sick of being No One.

Once I had finished bearing my soul out I quickly composed myself, wiping the tears away that I hadn't let escape the shelter of my eyes, and then I held my breath as I waited for him to say something – would he say something cruel? Would he try to comfort me, though these memories were far in the past?

He took a breath and opened his mouth, but what came out wasn't at all what I expected.

"So you can't remember your name at all?" Now it was my turn to be surprised, but I nodded nonetheless. He thought about this for another second, leaning his head forward to rest in his hands before looking up into my eyes.

"Would you like a name?" My eyes widened, quite comically I'm sure, and I took in a quick breath before nodding once again, quite a bit more enthusiastically. He sat up and clapped his hands together, rubbing them.

"Alright. I've never named anyone before, so it'll probably take a few tries." I didn't care what the name was at all – I just wanted a name already. He looked up, resting a hand on his chin, and thought for a second. Perhaps he hadn't quite realized that I was bursting to the seams with excitement. I wanted to snap at him to hurry up, but couldn't quite find it in myself to speak, so I waited with a bated breath.

His gaze eventually lowered from the ceiling and into my eyes and he finally spoke.

"So, there's May, or –" I nodded as soon as it was out of his mouth. I didn't care, as long as I had a name. No longer would I be No One!

"What? I haven't even told you them all! I thought up a whole list and everything! There's Jade, Rachel, Lydia. You could go original with weird names no one's heard of before, too, like Tiwanda, or…you're not listening to me, are you?" And I would have answered something, I'm sure, except I really wasn't listening.

May. I felt a smile forming on my lips and for once didn't force it down as I continued to repeat the name in my head, getting the feel for it as my smile continued to grow. Whereas my first name, the one I don't remember, felt like clouds and sounded like bells, this one felt soft and left me with a light feeling I could only describe as happy. My large grin made Sam go quiet, not that I would know he was talking in the first place, and I leaped up out of my seat.

"I'm May! I have a name!" He stood up, too, grinning along with me. He chuckled slightly.

"May it is." And before I knew it I had made it around the little coffee table and thrown my arms around him in the first hug I'd given since Little Tommy.

"Thank you! Thank you!" He stiffened slightly at first before putting his arms around me as well. Never before had anyone been so nice and considerate toward me before. Sure, Steve was a good guy, and he had protected me, but Sam had given me a name. I squeezed him one more time before taking a step back and thrusting my hand out in the way I'd observed people do so many times before, but been unable to do myself.

"Hi, I'm May." And that's my name, not my title. He smiled at me as well, matching my own.

"Well it's nice to meet you, May. I'm Sam." And for the first time in what felt like forever, I threw my head back and laughed in delight.

[o]

No One finally has a name! Thanks so much to adamo393 and CherryBlossoms016 for giving their opinions on what her name should be.

Currently, there's one vote for Emma to be May's original name, so make sure to give your own ideas.

Also, ideas on what to review to reach 15 by this Wednesday, just post Steve Roger's birth date.

Those who don't know, go ahead and guess. It's ridiculously fitting for him, once you know it :)