Burning, searing pain. The soldier grabbed a fistful of my hair and jerked me forward, sending me to my knees. I screamed, trying to free myself, but he twisted his hand tighter. Hair began to tear out at the roots. The pain was indescribable. He was dragging me down the hallway. Every breath I took burned. My lip was bleeding, and my eye was swelling shut. My back throbbed. I couldn't escape. He threw me into the chair and then grabbed my hair again, forcing my back against the metal, forcing me into the machine.

I woke up screaming. It was dark, but the city outside my windows shone, a million lights gleaming in the darkness. There was no moon tonight; a storm was coming. The clouds were heavy and dark, their undersides reflecting the orange light of the city. I curled into a ball, shaking. Sweat trickled down my forehead and into my mouth and eyes. I stared blankly ahead of me, trying to calm my heart. Long strands of hair fell into my face. I moved to brush them back, and my hand caught in a knot, tugging painfully against my scalp.

I shot out of the bed, panic singing in my veins. I hit the ground hard and fell to my knees, but scrambled to my feet and staggered to the bathroom. I turned the lights on and began digging through the drawers. There was toilet paper, toothpaste, a toothbrush... nothing that I needed right then. There was nothing that could help me, nothing that could relieve me of the pain, of the fear.

I left the bathroom and stumbled across my room and to the door. I left it open and began my trek down the hall, clinging to the wall for support. Somehow I made it to the elevator and made it inside, sagging against the wall. Soft light gleamed inside the elevator. I pressed a random button and was several floors away from my room before I realized that I didn't know what floor my room was on. The doors slid open. I stepped out into the hall and looked around. This hall was unfamiliar. I started walking, my bare feet making no noise on the floor. The stone chilled my feet and sent shivers up my spine.

I emerged into a large common room. The lights were all out, but the glow from the city provided enough illumination for me to distinguish the shadows from the furniture. Was this the kitchen?

I crept into the center of the room, listening for any noise. Besides me, there didn't seem to be anyone else awake. I wonder if there are only four people living in the tower?

On one side of the room was a line of cabinets with granite countertops. I made my way to them as quickly as I could, keeping to the shadows, and began rifling through them, going more by touch than by sight.

"Ouch!" I retracted my hand and stuck my finger in my mouth, glaring into the dark drawer. Knives. I moved on but left the drawer open, ready to go back to it if I didn't find what I was looking for. I found a light switched and turned it on. A line of bulbs above the countertop blinked to life, but the rest of the room remained dark. Finally I found what I was looking for. Right as I pulled them from the drawer, footsteps echoed through the room.

Panicking, I switched the lights off and threw myself behind the nearest piece of furniture: a large leather couch. I pressed my free hand to my mouth and clutched the scissors close to my chest, my fist clenching the blades tightly. The footsteps stopped, and the lights flickered on. I let out a breath, somewhat defeated, but didn't stand. I was afraid. I felt as though I was running for my life.

I'd do what I always did when they came after me—stretch out my wings, knock them away, and then take off— I shrank back against the couch. I couldn't. Not anymore. I was defenseless.

"Katie?"

I jumped, scrabbling backwards on all fours, my mind blanking. Tony Stark stood there in flannel pajama pants, staring at me as though I were an alien. I scrambled to my feet, feeling heat rise to my face. "Mr. Stark."

"Tony," he corrected automatically. He gave me a questioning glance. "Do you want to tell my why exactly you're sneaking around my tower at two in the morning?"

I bit my lip and looked away, moving my hands behind my back. He sighed dramatically. "Fine," he groaned, waving his hand back in the general direction of the hallway. "Just go back to your room, it's on floor forty-six."

I gave him a questioning look and nodded slowly, starting to walk back towards the hall.

"Put them down," he said from behind me. I froze and turned to stare at him. He was wide awake by now, his eyes bright and alert. His arms were crossed over his bare chest, and I couldn't help but notice the large, jagged scar in the center of it, over his heart. He pointed to the scissors in my hand. "Down."

I narrowed my eyes and pulled them closer to me, moving slowly towards the entryway. "Why?"

He put his arms down, looking exasperated. "Because you are an emotionally unstable victim of mental, physical, and psychological torture who shouldn't be out of bed right now, much less gallivanting around my tower. Especially," he added, "with a potential weapon." He held out his hand. "Hand 'em over." I did so reluctantly, and he put them back in their drawer, locking it by murmuring something at it.

I could've sworn I heard a little voice say, "Yes sir," in response, but I couldn't be sure.

He clasped his hands together and nodded towards the door. "Go on, go back to bed. You need anything? I can call Banner…"

I shook my head, glancing back at the drawer. "No, I'm fine." I turned and padded back to the hall but stopped at the doorway. I turned, resting my hand against the frame. "Mr. Stark?"

"Tony," he corrected loudly.

"Why are you up so late?" I asked curiously.

He glanced up, dark eyes gleaming, and held up a glass of water. "Water for the Missus," he said.

I blinked. "You're married?" I asked, surprised. My gaze dropped to his left hand, but he wasn't wearing a ring.

"Uh… no." He seemed rather uncomfortable with the look I was giving him.

I was utterly confused. Why would he be living with a woman he was not married to? "Do you love her?" I blurted the fist thought that came to my mind.

He looked astonished that I would be asking such a thing. I backtracked quickly, my cheeks growing hot. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"

"No, no, you're fine…" he cleared his throat and looked around the room. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I love her."

The corner of my lip lifted in a smile. "What's her name?"

"Pepper," he said, a grin growing on his own face. "Pepper Potts."

I smiled at him softly. "I would like to meet her someday."

He glanced up at me, a shy smile on his face. I had never seen him look that way before. I blinked. I had known him before, hadn't I? I would have had to, to know how his expressions worked. "She'd like that," he agreed. "Just not right now; she's probably fallen back to sleep."

I nodded and turned away. "Of course. Goodnight, Tony."

I could hear the smile in his voice as I walked away. "Night."

I reached the elevator without incident and sighed. I needed those scissors. The elevator doors opened, and I stepped inside, pressing the button for the 46th floor. I leaned against the wall, exhausted despite having slept for so long. My body wasn't used to moving around this much. I reached up to brush my hair away from my face, and my fingers became caught in a knot again. I pulled at the strand of hair without thinking and almost screamed as a flash of memory hit me, bringing along with it a sharp pain and paralyzing fear. I yanked my hand away, suddenly covered in cold sweat. Forget the rules. Forget being caught. As soon as the doors opened on my floor, I made them shut again and sent the elevator down towards where I knew Banner's lab to be. I kept my hands glued to my sides and stared straight ahead, trying not to shake.

The doors opened and I bolted out, almost slamming into the opposite wall. I leaned against it, taking deep breaths, and looked around. This wasn't the right floor. I began walking down the hall, placing one foot silently in front of the other. I rounded the corner and ran into someone much larger than myself. I stumbled back, wide-eyed. Tony stood there, a cup of water in one hand. He raised his eyebrows.

"I know I just told you what floor your room is on, and it's not the thirty-fifth floor," he said. He wasn't as light sounding as before. "What are you really doing up?" he said.

At that moment, my back throbbed, and I winced. "My back hurts," I blurted.

Any trace of anger disappeared. "Right," he murmured. He held up a finger. "Wait right here."

He went down the hall and disappeared into a room on the right hand side. I rubbed my burned wrist with my undamaged hand, trying not to look at it. A minute later Tony reemerged, this time wearing a shirt. He held a notepad and a pen in one hand, and he beckoned me forward with the other, stepping into the elevator. I followed.

"Alright, so Banner's lab is on the thirty-second floor," Tony said, scribbling something down in the notebook. He frowned down at it. "Actually, let's do this in order." He tore out the page, crumpled it up, and, after realizing there was nowhere to throw it away, put it in his pocket. "Note to self," he muttered, writing something on his palm. "Install trash disposal in elevator." He switched to the notepad. "Alright. First floor, ground level, not important," he rattled off, making some notes. "Training rooms are on the fifteenth through twenty-fifth floors, depending on what you like using. Some are for shooting, some boxing, one's a track, one's a pool, and so on."

A pool? Indoors? I nodded my head, listening intently.

"Thirty-first floor is the infirmary, thirty-second is Banner's lab. Those two are connected, since he's the doctor 'round here." He wrote something else down. "Thirty-third is Banner's hall where he lives when he's in New York. Thirty-fifth and thirty-sixth are mine and Pepper's wing," he added casually.

I got the hint. Don't go down there.

"Fortieth is Barton's, the forty-sixth is yours, and fifty third is the kitchen, as you saw. Sixtieth and sixty-first floors are connected and are the living room-type-place. Top ten floors are research and development, not a part of Banner's stuff. Other floors are for other people or weapons or my stuff. Floors I haven't listed are probably dangerous or unfinished, so don't go there until I add them to the list. Oh! And bathrooms are located on most floors."

Tony handed me the paper, which I hesitantly took. He had left spaces between some of the numbers, some as many as fifty blank lines, like between the "living room-type-place," as he put it, and the research and development floors. The doors opened, and Tony escorted me out. The lights were out in here too, but Tony turned them on quickly, washing the enormous room in white lights.

"How tall is the building?" I asked, staring around me in wonder.

"Eleven hundred and thirty-eight feet," he rattled off instantly, going round from counter to counter and peering at different medicines. "Say, do you know what medicine Banner was giving you?"

"That's almost as tall as the Empire State Building," I murmured. I blinked. "Oh—no, I'm sorry, I don't."

He frowned and crossed his arms, looking around. "Ah. That one must be it."

A clear bottle filled with small blue capsules sat on the counter, a note with my name on it resting beside it. Tony read it quickly, muttering under his breath. He unscrewed the cap, grabbed a couple of the pills, and handed them to me. "Take those with water," he said. "They'll knock you out, so don't taken 'em till you're in bed." I nodded and let him steer me out of the room. The lights switched off as we crossed the threshold.

The elevator opened, and he stepped in with me. He pressed the thirty-fifth button and the forty-sixth button and the doors closed.

"Jarvis?" he called.

I looked up, glancing around the elevator. Who was he talk—

"Yes, sir?"

I jumped almost a foot into the air, my back hitting the wall. "What? Who was—"

Tony glanced apologetically at me. "Sorry, I forgot you weren't used to this. This is Just A Rather Very Intelligent System, he helps run the house."

"Just a…" I mumbled the words under my breath. "J.A.R.V.I.S.?"

"Hello, Miss."

I blinked. "Uh… hi."

"Yeah, hey, buddy? Once Katie's dropped off, can you power off the elevator? We don't need a repeat of what happened when the tower was being built."

"What happened?" I asked curiously, trying to ignore the formal, "Of course, Sir," in the background.

"Sweaty workmen," he deadpanned. "All inside my private elevator."
The doors opened onto the thirty-fifth floor, and I realized something my exhausted mind hadn't noticed until now.

"Here's my stop," he said, stepping out.

"Um, Tony?" I asked. "Are there any stairs? Or are the elevators the only way to go anywhere in the tower." I was thinking more of possible escape plans than anything, since I couldn't just jump out the window anymore—had I really done that?—but Tony seemed to think I was going to try and rob him or something.

"Uh," he rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe. Night."

The doors closed, and I huffed angrily, moving to run a hand through my hair. My fingers caught again, and I almost screamed. I glanced down at the paper in my hand. Kitchen was the fifty-fifth floor. I pressed the button for that floor, but it didn't light up. The elevator was moving up towards my floor, but I knew it would stop there and I would be stuck there for the night.

"Jarvis?" I called timidly.

After a moment, the voice replied. "Yes, Miss?"

I was too curious not to ask my question first. "What are you?"

"Just A Rather Very Intelligent System," it replied smoothly.

"Like a computer?" I asked.

"Yes."

"I have another question," I said to it, looking around to find a speaker or a mouth or something. Nothing. The voice seemed to come from the floor. "Can you take me to the fifty-first floor?"

"No, Miss."

I was losing my temper. Somewhere within me I realized that I was arguing with a computer, but I didn't really care. "Why not?"

"Because Mr. Stark gave me specific orders to drop you off and then power off the elevator."

"You can drop me off on the fifty-first floor," I muttered. It didn't respond. Instead, the doors slid open onto my floor. I refused to step out. "If you can't drop me off, you can't—"

The elevator powered down. I stepped out, and the doors slid shut. I eyed it irritably and glanced down the hall towards my room. The door was still open, light from the bathroom spilling into the hallway. At the other end, however, I thought I saw another door. Stairs, maybe? I moved towards it and then stopped as my back throbbed again.

I tried to weigh the choices I had. I needed to get those scissors, or at least a knife. I had no idea where I was going or if there were stairs in this bloody towers anyway. I was exhausted and hurt, and should be asleep. I moved towards my room and closed the door once I was inside. Tomorrow. I would fix it tomorrow.

I took the pills, rinsing them down with water, and almost immediately felt drowsy. I managed to climb under my covers, carefully avoiding touching or pulling on my hair at all. I maneuvered onto my less-injured side and stared at the pictures by my bed. I stared at the one of James and Steve and I and smiled sadly.

I had only been four when I had met him, but he had taken me under his wing. He and Steve had been friends since they were thirteen. I had always looked up to him, even before I had feelings for him. I thought back to the day we met, my eyes drooping shut.

"Why don't you fight back, huh?" a boy taunted, pushing Steve. We were at the playground near our house, playing, when a few boys who were much bigger than me came over and started pushing my brother around.

"Stevie!" I was only four, but I was severely protective of my brother. I ran over and tried to push the boy away, but he pushed me down into the dirt. I started to cry.

"You need a little girl to fight for you, Rogers?" another boy taunted, leering at me.

Steve's eyes widened and then narrowed in anger. His hands balled into fists. "Don't touch my sister," he growled, putting himself in front of me.

The boys laughed, and he tried to punch one of them. The smiles dropped off their faces, and the biggest boy grabbed Steve's arm, pinning it behind his back. Another boy hit my brother in the face. I started screaming at the sight of my brother's blood. I scrambled to my feet and ran over to the boy, hitting his arm.

"Stop it!"

One of the boys grabbed my arm and pulled me away. I was screaming and crying, kicking at the boy. I managed to kick him in the shin and he yelled, yanking on my braid and then pushing me to the ground.

"Hey!"

A tall boy with brown hair and blue eyes rushed out of nowhere, tackling the boy to the ground. He punched the boy in the mouth, and then jumped off. The boy he had hit ran away. The new boy hit the boy holding Steve in the nose, and it started bleeding. The boys scattered.

The new boy came over and knelt down beside me. I sniffed and stared up at him. He took my hand and pulled me to my feet. I sniffed and wiped at my eyes. "Are you alright?" he asked. His lip was bleeding.

My eyes widened. I reached up very hesitantly and pressed the corner of my sleeve against it, wiping away the blood. He stood very still, his eyes wide, as if trying not to frighten away a deer. "Thank you," I whispered.

He nodded. "Are you okay?" he repeated.

"Yes." I looked past him. "Steve!"

I darted forward and practically tackled my brother, crying.

He hugged me, and then looked over at the stranger, who was standing there with his hands in his pockets, his hat on crooked. "Thanks," my brother said.

The other boy shook his head. "Don't mention it." He knelt down in front of me. "You're really brave, you know that?"

I blushed, hiding a bit behind my brother.

"I'm Steve," my brother said, smiling and offering the other boy his hand.

The boy stood and smiled and took it. "I'm Bucky."

"What's your real name?" I asked, looking up at him. He was a lot taller than I was. He was a lot taller than Steve was.

'Bucky' chuckled. "That is my real name."

"No, no, I mean your long name. Like—like Steve's real name is Steven, and my—my real name is Katherine, and—"

He held up his hands, a smile tugging at his lips. "Alright, I got it." He hand out his hand to me. "I'm James."

I smiled back. "I'm Katie."