Cold.

It was the first sensation Reagan had felt in... How long had she been asleep? Everything felt fuzzy as she tried to bring a hand to her head. Her movements were sluggish, like her limbs did not want to respond. She cracked an eye open only to quickly close it; something had made her eye sting.

'Saltwater?' The only thing she could pull from the haze that could make her eye sting as it was had been when she had visited the ocean just last summer with... Who, again?

Low voices caught her attention as well as a steady beeping noise. The voices were too distant to figure out what they were saying. Her head began to throb and she wished that she could just go back to sleep, preferably somewhere warm and away from that infernal beeping. She tried to will herself back to dreamland when she felt her body shift downwards. At the sudden feeling, her eyes shot open and she looked around, ignoring the stinging sensation as she counted two bodies in front of her.

Through the murky blue she could make out that both people in front of her were male and young maybe? She was trying to keep her vision focused when her feet touched the bottom of wherever she was. It was cold and... had small holes? A fleeting thought that maybe that was where whatever this liquid was disappearing through.

Reagan let out a little squeal as she found her legs did not want to support her, causing her to flail and splash in the steadily disappearing liquid and one of the men on the other side of the glass - why was she behind a glass wall? - to take a quick step forward. She thought she heard him say something but he still sounded so muffled it was impossible to understand. Sitting on the cold floor she finally realized something was tugging at her face. Slowly she brought a hand up and felt where she assumed her nose would be. Except she was met with cold plastic- definitely not her nose. As she removed the mask and took a deep breath she quickly regretted it. Whatever the liquid she had been sitting in smelled awful and it made her cough until the glass began to shift down into a slot in the floor.

When the glass had all disappeared, Reagan took a steadying breath before looking at the two men in front of her. Both looked young and were wearing some sort of tight suits. Both looked away from her as a third cleared their throat behind them. The blonde cast his gaze back to her and she caught his green eyes, noting how they sparkled with curiosity. The other moved out of the way and let the third man walk forward. The blonde held out a hand and said... Wait, what did he say?

Reagan gave him a puzzled look. She could see his mouth move but his words sounded like they were very far away and muffled. Had that smelly water stuff clogged her ears? She brought a hand up to her head, feeling suddenly light headed as the third man said something else. A sharp voice came over the speakers in the room.

"Subject 0-9. Welcome back to the land of the waking. I hope your sleep was restful. You are going to need it."

'Zero Nine? No, that's not right. I was given a name.'

Reagan shook her head and looked up to see the blonde quickly look to the other man then back to her. She thought she could see concern written plainly on his face but why? The third man moved away and joined a fourth person at the terminal, quickly exchanging some words before he kicked off and floated across the floor to a door.

Reagan stared at the door the man had exited out of before her gaze snapped to the blonde man. He had moved to grab her arms to help her stand. Reagan was now utterly lost and quickly shot back away from his reach, her back colliding with the cold metal behind her. The blonde man pulled back and averted his gaze again, this time Reagan noticed his cheeks were tinted pink.

Reagan quickly noted how she felt the cold wall across all of her back. She looked down and instantly felt heat raise to her own cheeks. Nothing covered her chest, save a couple leads where her heart was. At least whoever put her in this place had the decency to cover her lower half even if it was with just a small pair of shorts.

Something fluffy looking was thrust in her face a moment after she had brought her arms - why did they feel like 10,000 pound weights? - to attempt to cover what little modesty she had left. The fluffy thing was waved around a little and she recognized it as a towel. Reagan quickly grabbed it and wrapped it around herself making sure it was fastened snug under her arm, puling the leads off her chest before looking back to the blonde man. He gave her a small smile and held his hand out again. This time Reagan took it.

The man slowly pulled Reagan to her feet, gently putting a hand on her shoulder to help her steady herself. She heard him speak again, this time his voice sounded less muffled.

"Are you okay miss?" Reagan turned, giving him an odd look.

That was most definitely English, but that was definitely not an accent she recognized. Where the hell was this guy from? She quickly shook her head, realizing she had been staring at him instead of answering him.

"I'm fine?" Her voice was barely a whisper, as she scanned the room they were in. Behind the man was a large computer screen - screens? - and a man sat in a chair at the rather large terminal. Beyond that was a large floor to ceiling window and what she saw made her legs buckle, causing the man to grab her by her waist to help her stay upright. An endless expanse of black was all Reagan saw. It was marred occasionally by small white dots but there was no mistaking it. Reagan quickly came to the conclusion she was in space.

"Miss?"

Another voice made her drag her gaze from the expanse of space to the man to her right. He was the second man staring at her when she woke up. She looked back to the man that had her held close, voice still nothing more than a whisper, "Where am I?" Even through the fog of her mind she could put two and two together: she was in some sort of space ship, in space, covered in smelly blue stuff. The only thing she could not figure out was why.

Before either could answer there was a soft whirring sound. The third man floated back into the room and stood in front of Reagan.

"Miss, do you know where you are?" If she had not been drowning in confusion Reagan would have rolled her eyes - did she not just ask that question? - but shook her head. She immediately regretted the action as her world felt like she was thrown into a spinning fall. The blonde man gripped her tighter and held her closer upon feeling her start to lean.

"Lieutenant Aker, just down the hall there is a room. Take her there and let her clean up. She," the man paused and cleared his throat while averting his eyes, "might want to wash that substance off."

Reagan's world had finally stopped spinning only to feel herself gently leaned back and floating across the room. She leaned her head onto the man's shoulder, silently looking up at the man. She had to admit that she did not smell the best. Just what the hell was that stuff she was sleeping in? Reagan could feel her cheeks burn in embarrassment as she looked down at the fluffy white towel. The attractiveness of the man that had helped her thus far had not escaped her but why did he remind her of someone? Trying to pull that person from the fog of her memory made her head hurt worse and she decided against trying to figure it out until a later time.

It took this... Lieutenant Aker no time to stop at a door that was already open. When they glided into the room the lights flickered on overhead automatically, causing Reagan to shrink into the man's arms. Why was the light so damned bright?

The man quickly scanned the walls but found no switches to dim the lights, causing him to frown. He moved them over to the only other door in the room and the lights flashed on there too, revealing a modest bathroom: a simple walk-in shower modified for use in zero gravity, a toilet, and sink set into a large white counter. Cabinets stacked on top of one another between the toilet and shower held what Reagan hoped would be more towels; she was now desperate to wash off this smelly stuff. She squirmed a little in the man's arms and he gently set her down.

"I'll be outside in the room incase you need anything." Reagan turned to look at him over her shoulder, giving him a small nod before he left and the door closed with a soft noise.

Once alone, Reagan tried to collect her thoughts as she moved over to the shower, turning it on. She moved back to the mirror hanging above the sink while she waited for the water to heat up.

'Is that me?' She stared at her reflection in utter disbelief. She was sure she should have had strawberry blonde hair; maybe that weird blue liquid that still heavily clung to her locks was what gave it a sick burgundy color? At least her eyes were the shade of green they should be; she vaguely remembered someone had compared them to emeralds but who? She shook her head lightly as she discarded the towel and shorts and floated into the shower, glad to find that it held the toiletries she needed to scrub off all traces of that smelly stuff she was suspended in.

After what felt like an eternity under the blissfully warm water, Reagan shut it off and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a couple towels out of the top cabinet. She dried her hair and was in the middle of drying her body off when she paused in realization: she had no clothes to put on. Wrapping herself in the fluffy towel Reagan began searching the drawers and cabinets under the sink. She found a bit of makeup - 'Do I wear makeup?' - as well as a hairdryer and brush.

A small frustrated sigh escaped her lips as she noted the brush held hair similar in color to her own so... maybe this was her bathroom? That meant that was her room? So she should have clothes in there somewhere, right? Reagan contemplated on what to do about the man supposedly waiting for her out there as she brushed the knots from her hair.

'He's already seen the goodies so walking out in a towel shouldn't be a problem, right?' She felt her cheeks explode with heat once again as she stood before the door.

'Oh well, here goes,' Reagan steeled her nerves and exited the bathroom to find the man intently staring at something, his back to her. She cleared her throat to get his attention. He swiftly straightened and turned to her, quickly snapping his gaze to hers and holding it. Reagan tried hard to not let the laugh she felt bubbling up out when she noticed the tips of his ears turn pink.

"I believe this is your room," the man moved to the side and revealed a desk. She caught sight of several pictures stuck to the corkboard and glided forward. She moved forward, gently plucking one from under the tack and stared at a picture of five individuals. They were at a beach somewhere, all wearing smiles. She quickly identified herself in a small black bikini, shades perched atop her head, a broad happy grin on her face. She was sitting on someone's back; the person was a blonde male with piercing green eyes. He looked slightly disgruntled, perhaps because she was sitting on him? Maybe he was getting sand stuck in his trunks? His cheeks were colored a slight pink, all of theirs were. Perhaps they had been out in the sun a while before someone snapped this?

The other three in the picture were all male as well, all looking strikingly similar. All three had short black hair, two had brown eyes and were taller than the third. The third's eyes were obscured by sunglasses and had his black hair tied back. The two taller men had an arm slung over each others shoulders, wearing matching grins. The shorter one had his hands on Reagan's shoulders, slightly leaning over her with his tongue stuck out at the camera. All five looked like they were having a fun time. Reagan noted she did not look any older than she did in the picture so... why could she not remember any of these guys? Why could she not remember when or where this was taken? She flipped the picture over, finding something written in beautiful cursive.

Crozon Morgat, Brittany, France

June 2100

Reagan glanced over her shoulder, noticing the man had moved slightly behind her and was studying the back of the picture with his brow furrowed. She held the picture up for him to take while she looked back at the corkboard. It was decorated with several key chains that ranged from small, cute animal like figures to plastic items filled with water and glitter. One was shaped like a shell and was filled with sand and tiny shells, the backdrop was a pretty overhead shot of a beach with Crozon Morgat in big black letters. There were also various pictures ranging from staged poses of Reagan and the boys to Reagan alone or with a couple of the boys. The scenes varied between crowded streets to fields of flowers to a pool. Was that one near the bottom at some sort of festival? The group of five were huddled together with necklaces and bracelets that glowed, holding either glass bottles or red cups. Candid shots were mixed in as well. One that caught her eye was of herself and the blonde. She was laughing while shoving the man's face into a cake of some sort. Whoever these guys were, they seemed like they were all close. So why could she not remember their names?

Reagan shook her head and turned to rummage through the drawers on the other side of the room. She was so busy with her own thoughts and looking for clothes that she did not notice the man reach up to the top of the corkboard and pluck a picture, holding it behind the one of Reagan at the beach.

Reagan found panties and a bra that she hoped fit her, at least they should since this was her room, right? She looked over her shoulder yet again, intending to ask for some privacy only to find the man standing in the door to the hall with his back to the room. Reagan quickly shed her towel and slipped on her underclothes before opening another drawer and pulling out a plain black racer back tank top and form fitting white pants. She quickly slipped them on before grabbing some socks. She floated over to the bed and slipped them on before slipping to the floor to go through the drawer under the bed. She pulled it open to reveal a wide array of shoes. She quietly wondered how she knew where things were as she pulled out a pair of knee high black boots with a low heel.

'This must be my room. Does this mean the guys in the picture are here too? Maybe they're in that smelly liquid in different rooms.' She thought to herself as she stood, knocking one toe against the floor a couple times before turning to the man at the door.

"Ready to go?" He asked, turning partially in her direction. Reagan tilted her head to the side, still unused to his weird accent before stepping to the desk. She opened the long drawer in the front and pulled out a couple hair ties. Slipping them on her wrist she turned and nodded. The man smiled and motioned her to follow him.

"What's your name? I'm Graham Aker," the man glanced at her from the corner of his eye as they made their way down the short hall. Reagan looked at him, emerald gazes clashing as she answered, "If you believe the computer, I'm Zero Nine. But I'm pretty sure my actual name is Reagan."

The man, Graham, quirked a brow at her choice of words. "Pretty sure? Shouldn't you know your own name?"

Reagan did not hold back the small chuckle and shrugged. "Probably but everything feels so fuzzy. I must have been asleep for a while."

Graham raised his eyebrows at her statement but it went unnoticed as they arrived back in the room where she emerged. She barely took note of the three men still in the room as she glided straight over to the windows, grasping the railing in both hands and leaning over it slightly. She did not understand why she was asleep in space in a weird smelling liquid but the view was too beautiful to ignore. Being in space made her tummy do flips of joy; maybe coming up here had been a wish or dream of hers? She was so lost in the black emptiness she missed Graham handing over two pictures to someone else. She did however catch some of their conversation.

"2102?!" That must have been one of the other men in the room; it certainly was not Graham's voice even though it too held an odd accent. "There's no way-"

"Sir, those were up on a board when we got in the room. Judging by the pictures, I assume it belongs to her. I highly doubt any of these are fake." Graham interrupted the other man. Reagan frowned and turned to face the two, leaning back on the railing. Why was this man shocked about the date? The picture couldn't have been taken more than a year or two ago; she looked nearly identical to how she looked in the picture so not much time could have passed.

The man beside Graham looked between the picture and Reagan several times before motioning her over to join them. Reagan quirked a brow as she moved, alighting closer to Graham than the other man. She felt more comfortable around him but whether it was because he had been kind to her since she woke or because he looked very much like the man she was sitting on in the picture, she had no clue.

The man held up the picture of her and her friends? at the beach. "Is this you?" He questioned. Reagan folded her arms under her bust before answering, "I think so. I don't remember." She was getting annoyed at how quiet her voice was. Her throat was feeling a little better after the hot shower.

He had leaned in closer to hear what Reagan had said. He leaned back with a grunt and studied the other picture. "Miss uh, Reagan was it?" When she nodded he continued, "Do you recognize this picture?"

Reagan plucked the second picture from his hand, turning it over and immediately furrowing her brow. It was her again with the four men. They were all in form fitting suits very similar to what Graham and the other men in the room were wearing. The blonde and the man with the longer black hair had their helmets tucked under opposite arms. A woman looking just like Reagan - Is that me? - held her helmet in front of her, the arm of the blonde wrapped around her middle while the black haired man had his arm draped across her shoulders. The two taller man were floating behind them sans helmets. Behind their small, smiling group stood six tall humanoid looking machines? They were huge in comparison to the five people in the middle of the picture. They were all a cool silvery white, each donning different colored accents. Reagan quickly noted that each suit was black with different colored accents and matched one of the machines.

Flipping to the back of the picture Reagan saw the same beautiful cursive writing:

First Generation Fireflies, February 2101

Gabriel & Raphael Auclair, Liam Arkwright, Reagan Seaver, Alexandre Auclair

Not pictured: Gavin Hawke

'You can't take the sky from me'

Reagan's brow creased even further in confusion as she flipped the picture back and forth, putting names to faces. At least she remembered her own name correctly but these guys... Judging how they were all positioned in the pictures she saw in the other room and this one they were all close. They had to be. There were too many pictures of them all together during different seasons for them to not be. But even having names for them now, why couldn't she remember? And this sixth person, this Gavin, why wasn't he in this picture? Was he in any of the others or was he always the one taking them?

Graham was studying Reagan's face as she continued to look at the picture of her and the group of boys in pilot suits. The Union had detected an unidentifiable signal and had sent a request for the nearest ship to check it out. The ship Graham was stationed on had been the closest so he and one other FLAG had been dispatched to do a bit of recon. At first glance, the signal looked to have been coming from a slow moving piece of space debris however after reporting back to the bridge, a scan revealed that inside was a small ship. It contained a handful of rooms, a bridge, a docking area, and a suspiciously spacious room. Graham had docked his FLAG, instructing the other pilot to keep an eye out incase someone came back, while the second in command and a small contingent of soldiers made their way over on a small shuttle.

Graham had done a small amount of exploring, finding the bridge that held some very dated technology. He managed to restart the ship to full systems, with a little guesswork, and noticed that most of the power was being routed to the large open room under the bridge. After the second in command had joined him, they and the soldiers had went down and secured the room. It hardly contained anything; a huge computer screen that had several things it seemed to be tracking, an equally sizable terminal and two chairs. Opposite the computer was a darkened pod filled with something that looked like... Ice? However it had been what was inside the ice that had made them all hold their breath.

Frozen in time, was a barely clothed woman. None could tell if she was alive or not just by looking at her. She wore nothing but a tiny pair of shorts; a mask was fitted over her nose and mouth with a tube coming from both ends that disappeared into the wall behind her. There were a couple leads on her chest where her heart should have been. Other than that, the woman looked like she was sleeping peacefully.

After a quick call, it had not taken long before another shuttle was brought over with a couple scientists. One immediately took up at the terminal in the room while the other begrudgingly followed a small group of soldiers to the bridge.

The scientist in the room, some older man that Graham couldn't remember the name of, was able to discern in a matter of minutes that the woman was indeed alive. At least in a manner of speaking. She had been put into a sort of cold sleep, almost like suspended animation, but the technology used was very dated. Similar to what Graham had concluded from the bridge. Not long after that, the man had the pod warming and thawing out and, in a matter of minutes, the woman was floating in a blue colored liquid. Graham and one of the soldiers that had stayed behind instead of patrolling walked up to the pod, waiting to see if the woman would wake.

Graham was surprised that the woman beside him had only woken up just short of an hour ago and had went from something akin to a baby giraffe, barely able to stand, to moving like a normal person. However, they all knew that no ordinary person would have been put in a cold sleep like she had been.

"I found it!"

They all nearly jumped as the scientist over at the computer stood, slamming his hands on the terminal in front of him. Reagan, Graham, and the man that had yet to introduce himself exchanged looks before gliding over to stand near the scientist. He began talking in a rushed manner to the other man while Graham and Reagan looked around at the monitor. It had various tabs, charts, graphs, and what appeared to be newspaper articles pulled up all across the screen.

The two were so wrapped up in trying to read details from the tab closest to them - something about the sleeping pods - that they failed to notice the other man trying to get their attention. Reagan jumped and knocked into Graham as the man roughly pulled the picture she was still holding. Graham put his hands on Reagan's shoulders, steadying the woman before looking up at his second in command.

"Lieutenant, I want you to take Miss Reagan over to the main ship and get her checked out by one of the doctors on board. She's been sleeping for... a long time." Reagan noticed the prolonged hesitance and eyed him warily. How long had she been sleeping? What year was it? "I will make sure all your belongings in your room are safely packed up and brought over with me as I return. Do you have a suit you can put on?"

Reagan opened her mouth but quickly shut it. She was about to say that she had no idea what sort of suit he was talking about when something tickled the back of her mind. "I think so," was all she whispered before kicking off and headed toward the door, Graham hot on her heels.