Hey guys:)

So I'm having a bit of writer's block at the moment making this next chapter. This doesn't mean I won't have it out in time or that I'm taking a temporary break it just means that the next chapter may feel like filler. I've only gotten the first paragraph done and I have already re-written it 5 times, but hopefully I can make it work… Essentially I'm just warning you and preemptively apologizing for the next chapter, but I'm crossing my fingers I'll figure it out. Wish me luck:)

As always thank all you beautiful people for following, favoriting and reviewing Home, it's better than cookies:)

Leave any questions, comments or suggestions in the review section and I promise to address them in the next AN

Disclaimer: I really wish I owned Marvel- could you imagine all the superheroes that like classic rock:)


I immediately felt pain in the darkness I awoke in-pain that was growing by the second. I was still under cement block that killed me, but not as squished. Okay, well I shouldn't say that; just maybe not as dead. So far I couldn't move my legs and looking over I saw my right arm was hyper-extended, my elbow being bent backwards at a 90 degree angle. Oh, and I only saw this through one eye as the other was swollen shut.

'Oh god, don't think about the pain, don't think about the injuries, just go, you have to go.' I told myself, trying to focus on anything else- I hate the sight of injuries when the person in still alive, it's just one of the things that makes me feel sick. The slab of concrete was hard to blow off with the energy I had, but I managed to move it just enough to slip past. When the cold breeze and bright sunlight hit me I saw why I couldn't move my legs- everything from my hip down was broken in more than one place. I let out a shuttering breath and bit my tongue, closing my eyes tightly to drown out the images of them. I felt so incredibly weak now, not necessarily tired but like I had just run 3 marathons and swam another 5 miles.

'She said you have to want it, you have to push.' My left arm, the only working appendage, raised me into a sitting position.

'Okay, now what? I obviously can't walk, maybe I should- oh.' I thought as I came up with how I was to leave. My right arm was pretty useless right now, but I could still feel my legs and remaining arm. My hand emitted small outbursts, like and engine sputtering to life, before I administered an explosion large enough to propel me anywhere. Once I was forced into a standing position I did the same thing with my legs; small sparks then a steady bursts, making me gain height. I remembered Sierra telling me that New York was 60 miles away, so once I got high enough I looked in all directions, trying to find the city. The Stark Tower was my lighthouse, the beacon on top telling me its location. It also told me where I was supposed to go; maybe I could get help from the mutant that worked with Stark, if she was there.

'Don't worry about 'if's, just go.' I nodded my head, about to lift my legs but yelping in agony. Sure, the cold, wintery air helped with the pain so far, but now it was riding on the level of severity my leg had, and rising like it wouldn't stop soon. I had to go with plan B, using my legs to steady and my arm to propel- it'd just be much slower and less efficient. I'm sure I'd be a sight to see just moseying through the air, but luckily since my clothes were gray and white, they only thing that barely stood out up here was my hair and small rocket appendages. I moved at maybe 50 miles an hour, meaning that I'd have to manage how much energy I use and deal with the radiating anguish for over 60 minutes. Well, isn't life great.

At 15 minutes in the adrenaline keeping my pain at a low was completely gone and left me suffering. I had no doubt that I would be dead from my injuries if I hadn't gotten that deal. Tears leaked down my face in endless streams and the pain would make me vomit if I had anything left in my stomach. When I was just past halfway there groaning and almost fainting from the pain. The cold was a benefit for keeping me awake but I wouldn't last long. My legs felt like the hands of Zeus had them in a vice grip, my arm was like it was being cooked in hell's flames and the rest of my body felt like I was trampled by every sports team in America. Once I was almost there I started fainting mid air- falling a couple of feet and waking back up, trying to stay that way but failing miserably. I was so close, but I was completely exhausted before I even left the facility. I pushed on, getting meters, feet, inches away from the platform of the tower. I made my way above it, trying to give myself a gentle landing but I was out of energy. I almost passed out again when I hit the hard balcony, but I had to keep going, I had to keep going. I crawled on one arm, dragging myself to the doors and using whatever I had left to blow them open. I made my way through the glass and into the sight of several confused people, some I recognized as the Avengers. My head was throbbing and my vision became blurred with black spots. I whispered a pitiful 'help' before the pain became too much. I only hoped I tried hard enough for my second chance.


5 Days Later

'Ugh, uuuugggghhh, whatever drug is being pumped through my body is a miracle….' I thought lazily, feeling pretty light. I slowly opened my eyes, still not used to being able to have the gift of sight. Quiet beeps beside me and the blinding white theme signaled I was in some sort of med room, but not necessarily a hospital from the decorations and equipment stocked in it. My legs were hung up slightly by straps and wrapped heavily in casts and my arm was held together by a strong brace. My left eye was still swollen shut but I couldn't feel it so it didn't bother me. I looked around the room, seeing a small security cam in the corner.

"Heeeyyy… hey, uh, whoever's watching me.. um, I'm wakin up…" I slurred worse than any drunk I've ever heard. I took as deep a breath as I could, letting out a content sigh. It may have been the drugs, it was probably the drugs, but I felt really okay I guess the best word would be. Not happy, but not sad, and certainly pain free. I heard an elevator ding someone's arrival and I adjusted my head towards the thin, sliding doors. It was like a party walked in- I still recognized them as all 7 of the Avengers in my stoned mind, but there was another man with a metal hand peeking out from his long-sleeved shirt. Even though I knew the group name, I was too out of it to place specific names on anyone.

"How are you awake already?" The brown, curly haired one ask.

"I don't know, I guess I'm friends with some higher ups. Or maybe it's because I feel like sinking in this bed…" I replied gradually.

"Bruce, how much drugs did you give her?" No, that one was Tony Stark, couldn't forget it. I connected that the curly haired man was Bruce- Bruce Banner, I think.

"Hey, you know you kinda saved my life once. Yeah I was stuck in a hard situation and, yeah things happened…." I said towards Tony, thinking back to when I escaped the hospital. He gave me a very analyzing look.

"Seriously, Bruce."

"Hey, I'm pretty high but I'm tellin' the truth. Just don't ask me any difficult algebra questions and I'll be fine….." I trailed off. Bruce smiled warmly at me and grabbed a small clipboard off the end of the bed.

"You are supposed to be dead- three times over actually." He told me, looking down at one of the pages.

"I bet that's a record..."

"What happened?"

"Unless you want me falling asleep halfway you're gonna need to turn down the morphine." He let out a small chuckle and complied. I shifted in my seat a bit so I wouldn't have the urge to just let my eyes close.

"M'kay, well I am a mutant- so if you were wondering how I got in here, there's your answer, and I can make explosions. Uh, oh yeah when there was that alien invasion thing I think two-ish years ago I kinda helped you out. I was protecting a little girl from a hoard of them and since I was still trying to keep my 'condition' a secret I only made small explosions, trying not to gain attention, but it ended up getting my friend killed. I was then taken by an agency called the M.D.D.P, or the Mutant Detection and Detainment Program, where I was held prisoner until like a week ago, but I was dead for a bit so I don't really know. I blew that place to hell, though, which killed me for a bit and is also the reason why I came here looking like roadkill."

"You just blew up the place with everyone in it?" Blonde, tan, and tall asked- he's Captain America.

"Pfft, no. If I was gonna do that I would've blown the place when I woke up from my chloroform dreams."

"Explosions sound like the easiest way to get out of a cell, what took you so long?" Tony asked me, receiving a slap on the arm from Black Widow.

"When I arrived they put a blindfold on me that also blocked my hearing, and it was electrified, so I couldn't touch it. I could have easily blown it off, but it just would've just made my obstacles higher. I also was stuck going insane for a year when I was strapped down to a metal table." I replied swiftly. There were several shocked faces around me, but it was more over Tony.

"Who are you?" There was really no point in being secretive- I didn't care if I was holed up again and Sierra said I still had something to do so I might as well.

"Ripley Marie Williams." This time it was Black Widow who spoke up.

"You're supposed to be dead."

"Yeah, three times over apparently..." The red-head whispered something to the Captain and he had everyone leave the room except for her.

"Almost three years ago you killed a boy and vanished. Why?" She asked, crossing her arms.

"I wasn't planning on it." I answered honestly.

"Why?" She pressed on, sounding a bit angry. I didn't mind telling her, after the last few years I didn't have any dignity left.

"He was raping me. I tried to get away and he cut my neck- I tried again and he cut my thigh. I didn't know I was a mutant; I didn't want to kill him. "I said, images of a blood-stained, hollowed out chest came rushing back to me. I quickly thought of a lie so I could get out of the small interrogation.

"Any other questions? I'm probably gonna pass out pretty soon…"

"No, try and get some more sleep. If you need something just ask JARVIS." She told me. I nodded my head and the room was emptied again. I laid my head back down, falling asleep before the last person left.


Images flashed through my mind. I watched myself kill Jackson, I watched Sierra be stabbed by an alien, I watched Jacob be shot in the head and I could do nothing. I watched myself kill all those guards, all the experiments from the Labs, the lady in control of everything. Every scene was death until I got to the darkness. I felt myself go crazy again- like I was trapped in my own head for eternity. Music notes, names, words, and symbols sped through my thoughts until I could think of nothing. Thankfully I woke up soon after that and had no urge to fall asleep. I glanced down at the blanket lying on top of me and noticed that it had several burns through it that without a doubt came from me. I un-tucked my hands and saw that they were faintly orange, proving my theory. I sighed and stared at the ceiling.

"JARVIS?" I asked unsurely.

"Yes, Ms. Williams?" A somewhat robotic voice responded.

"Do you know my injuries list?"

"Yes, you had several small fractures in your left and right tibia and fibula, two severe fractures in your right fibula and one in your left, and several major and minor fractures in both femurs. As for your pelvis it was cracked, chipped and broken in several places. Your right arm was dislocated and hyper-extended, three ribs were bruised and you had several lacerations across your body. Surprisingly though you had no internal bleeding." I sat silently for a moment, letting the information sink in.

"That's impressive." I replied semi-sarcastically.

"It's impossible." I smirked softly.

"Yeah, it is. What's holding me all together then?"

"Several plates and pins along with a generous amount of bone cement." He replied.

"How long did it take to put me back together again?" I asked, newly interested.

"A number of surgeries that lasted longer than 4 hours over a 2-day period." Holy crap, I woke up after only three days? Wait, how long will it take for me to be able to leave the bed?

"When can I move on my own?"

"By my calculations, four days or until your arm is fully healed." I nodded my head, annoyed. I was about to ask another question when Captain America came into the room- with food. I swear to God I almost cried. I nearly snatched the tray from his hands and immediately attacked the heavenly gift. I heard him practically choking on laughs as I wolfed down half the pancake in seemingly one bite. I swallowed it down with a gulp of orange juice and turned my heads towards him.

"I have had the same meal of cold, lumpy mystery mush for two years- this is truly the best thing I've eaten. Besides I can actually see what's in front of me so that's a plus." I said, cutting out more of the warm, fluffy bliss. The plate was scraped clean a moment later along with a now bone-dry glass.

"Why is there burn marks on your blanket?"He asked after a somewhat awkward silence.

"Nightmares. It's worse when they're memories…" I answered.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked quietly, meaning the M.D.D.P.

"It's a long story."

"I've got time." I raised an eyebrow at him but seeing as he was genuinely concerned I went on.

"It was like I walked into a concentration camp- a couple questionable meals a day if you're lucky, a cold shower once a week, no bed, a cold cell and a new name." I said, pulling down the blanket to look at the small, black numbers. My arms were toothpicks- even with eating bigger and more nutritious meals I still had to be only 100 pounds.

"We were all so weak- when we were tested some of us just couldn't keep up." I hesitated going on, the memories making me sick.

"They beat a seven year old girl to death because she couldn't do what they asked of her- everyone else was whipped but I guess she didn't meet their standard for being a hostage." I said- spite riddled in my tone. I could see shock and anger flash through his eyes, but he tried not to show it.

"My friend Jacob, a telepath, was in her mind when she died and something must've triggered a reaction. He was talking to me at the time and when it happened he started screaming in agony. For me it felt like my head had three butcher knives cutting through it. I tried to help him, I blew off my blindfold and the wall separating us, but I couldn't do anything. One of my friends died, I got 20 lashes and I was put in Isolation for a year- someone high and mighty must've really had it out for me that day."

"They whipped you?" He asked, astounded someone would go that far.

"They whipped everyone. We were experimented on, humiliated, thrown around- we weren't people to them, we were trash. They kept us there so we wouldn't ruin humanity."

"I'm sorry for what happened to you." He said solemnly.

"I'm not." I could easily tell he was confused by my answer. "I got 23 people out. If that meant 2 years of shit then so be it. I guess I just don't regret it." Steve smiled at me, his eyes practically sparkling.

"So, what happens to me now?"

"Well, were planning on figuring that out when you're healed."

"Oh, awesome." I said sarcastically. We talked for a while longer, him going over the forties and me going over classical music. I know, I talk about the most interesting things. Eventually he took the empty tray from me and left the room. I sat up in the bed and tried getting resituated, the ache subtly burning through my body.

"Hey JARVIS?" I asked, pulling the sheets back up.

"Yes, Ms. Williams?"

"What was his name?"