The colors blinded her. Everything spun. There was a sharp wind against her face, blowing dirt and rocks into her eyes. Cassie collapsed, curling into a ball and screaming for it to end, screaming for help.

She awoke with a start, tears streaking down her face and a tight pain in her chest. She was alone in her new bedroom. As her feet hit the floor, she stood, leaning against the wall for support. What had woken her from the hellish nightmare...or memory?

There was a knock on the front door, and Cassie glanced down at her clock-6:21 a.m. Quickly, she grabbed her sweatshirt off her bedroom door and slid it over her t-shirt, walking out of her room and toward the front door. She was half groggy still and didn't hesitate before opening it.

Cassie's eyes grew wide. There was stranger on her step in the early traces of light.

"Hello. My name is Norman. May I come in?"

AAAAAAAAAA

Cassie curled her feet under her on the couch, staring at this stranger. His request to come in had been associated with a quick nod at the gun by his side.

He was alone. Her eyes roved over him, his suit, his unnerving demeanor. For a man who seemed to normally be well put together, his current aura told a different tale.

"I have a proposition for you. I would like to offer you a job."

She clenched her teeth and waited.

"Cassie," he spoke kindly, "I'm a friend. A friend well aware of your abilities."

Her chest tightened, and she shook her head, confused.

"Oh yes-Bleecker Street, perhaps?"

Her eyes widened involuntarily.

"Yes. I know all about that. But I'm here, as an ally, to offer you the opportunity to work with me. I believe that you're special," he smiled. "Very special, and I can help you reach your true potential."

Something in his tone warned her, warned her that this man was not her friend.

"I see..." she finally spoke.

He paused, tilting his head and observing her. "It's interesting..."

Her eyes narrowed questioningly.

"You seem harmless enough...as harmless as a child. But you know differently, as do I. Oh, you could be very useful. What do you say?"

She took a deep breath and let her eyes fall to the floor, then glanced quickly at his left hand, which held his gun.

"May I-?" Her voice was cut off as her phone rang. Once again, her throat tightened in fear.

"Go ahead," he murmured. "Answer it."

She picked up her cellphone from the table beside her and accepted the call. "Umm...hi," she murmured, afraid to say Stark's name aloud.

"Cassie, baby, hope I didn't wake you. Did some research on our friend-"

"Stark, wait-" she interjected, afraid that Norman might overhear.

"No, listen, you were right about Janet. She's been involved in some shady business working with Oscorp, and her records-"

Cassie quickly hung up the phone as she saw Norman's eyes widening. He stood, not hesitating.

"Come with me." His tone was much more severe now.

She hesitated.

"Come with me!" he yelled at her.

There was a click, and the gun pointed at her.

"Can I g-get dressed?" she squeaked, trying to buy time.

Norman glanced her up and down and then smirked. "No. Let's go."

She stood shakily and followed him to the front door. On the way out, she grabbed her keys. She realized that taking half a second to lock her new apartment was a mistake as she felt the cool metal of the gun against her neck.

"Let's go," he whispered.

She shivered, standing barefoot on the landing in her sweatshirt and shorts. He pushed her in front of him, forcing her down the steps, around the corner, and toward an adjoining alley. They continued walking, but Norman slid the gun down her back till it hit the small of her back, just above the waistband of her shorts. His other hand was placed lightly on her arm. It did not hurt-it was just uncomfortable.

"Don't be difficult," he whispered in her ear. "We're getting in a cab. I'm going to put my gun away. Don't move unless I tell you."

Soon, the gun was replaced by Norman's hand sliding around her waist, squeezing her hip. He called a cab, and he pushed her inside, giving the driver an address. Cassie closed her eyes, breathing heavily. Norman reached over and pried her fingers open, causing her to flinch slightly. He pulled her phone and keys away from her and slid them into his pockets.

"Won't be needing them," he smiled.

The drive seemed to last an eternity before the cab finally stopped and Norman motioned for her to exit. An airport. It was small, probably privately owned. A single helicopter stood at the center of a strip. Norman paid their driver, and he sped off.

Suddenly, the cool metal of the gun had slipped under her shirt and was pressed to her bare skin. Her foot slid, and she tripped, landing hard against her sore ribs. Norman yanked her roughly to her feet, but she did nothing, not yet. Cassie knew she could, but who knew how many soldiers this man had just waiting to hurt her?

Her vision was blurry as she tried to control her anger, not watching were she was going and letting Norman lead her. A man stood next to the helicopter, fingers laced together, a smile on his face. He appeared to be not much older than her-maybe four years-five at the most. His hair was dark and slicked back, and his facial hair was neatly trimmed. He was handsome, but his smile made her nervous. She noticed that he was as well dressed, if not more so, than Norman. His eyes were narrow, a calculating look focused directly on her. It frightened her.

Norman pulled away his gun, and the stranger stepped forward, tilting her head back with his hand and staring into her face.

"This is her?"

"No need to be rough, Jack," Norman smiled. "She's cooperated brilliantly."

"Oh, my apologizes, Cassie. I was only admiring how beautiful you are."

The feigned politeness these men gave her scared her all the more. Jack slid his hand above the crook of her elbow and led her toward the helicopter.

"If you'll step on, please."

She did as he asked, climbing up and into the machine as Jack's hand guided her. Cassie squeezed into a spot near the back of the helicopter and closed her eyes, praying silently in fear. Norman pushed a seat back and sat in front of her, Jack next to her, and another man she hadn't noticed before climbing into the pilot's chair.

Her hands trembled, and Jack sweetly smiled at her.

"It will be all right," he said, more genuinely this time, and she coughed nervously.

Ringing filled her ears, and Norman pulled her phone from his pocket.

"Stephen Strange..." he murmured, "Well, what a pleasant surprise. Would you like to talk to him?" he asked politely.

"No thank you," Cassie spit out.

Her anger was threatening to bubble over, and she suddenly clenched her seat with both hands, squeezing her eyes tight. It was now or never.

"Getting angry?" Norman inquired.

Her mouth opened, but no words emerged, and she tightened her face in concentration. Suddenly, Jack was forcing a cloth over her mouth and nose, and Cassie fought furiously against him, but it was too late. She could feel the dizziness taking over. She slumped into Jack's lap, and he placed a consoling hand on her shoulder.

"Janet's calling," she heard Norman mutter before she passed out.