Not That Special

by TheSarcasticKnight

Doctors. Inhumans. A world-shattering identity crisis? It's smooth sailing for Aj Bradshaw as she settles at the Compound with her new found family. Aj is more than content with casual living, but she finds herself at a loss when secrets from her real family's past threaten to destroy her new one. Here's to hoping she can find answers before she becomes an orphan all over again.

16. Chapter 16

A/N: WARNING WARNING WARNING PLS READ THIS FIRST.

This chapter talks on topics of sexual abuse. Nothing in strong detail is mentioned, but still be cautious.

To be honest, I waged a war with myself on whether or not I wanted to explore this sensitive topic. It's obviously not light reading and I didn't want to put anybody off my story, but I realized how important it was for me (personally) to delve into this. Sexual abuse is something serious and something that I think needs to be talked about more. It isn't a something to sprinkle into a story for dramatics or for views, it's something people all around the world have to deal and face every single day of their lives and there are so many situations and experiences that I think society doesn't see very often or doesn't think about enough. I thought about leaving it out b/c I was worried I wouldn't be able to handle this topic in the way I think it deserves to be handled, but I realized that I write what I wish I had been able to read when I was younger. I wish more than anything I had seen one of the fics I was reading as an 'escape' talk about this or explain this to me and if even one person can read this and gain that insight that I wish I had as a kid then I've done exactly what my goal was.

Again, I do not go into detail of the abuse but if you are easily triggered by this topic read with caution.

The quote I chose for this chapter is infinitely important and if you've ever had doubts in your past of your own experiences read the quote a couple of times and take that in.

---

Chapter #16:

An Unmarked Grave

---

"Your trauma is valid. Even if other people have experienced 'worse'. Even if someone else who went through the same experience doesn't feel debilitated by it. Even if it 'could have been avoided'. Even if it happened a long time ago. Even if no one knows. Your trauma is real and valid and you deserve a space to talk about it. It isn't desperate or pathetic or attention-seeking. It's self-care. It's inconceivably brave. And regardless of the magnitude of your struggle, you're allowed to take care of yourself by processing and unloading some of the pain you carry. Your pain matters. Your experience matters. And your healing matters. Nothing and no one can take that away." –Daniel Koepke

---

My hangover was of legendary proportions. When I lifted my head up off the pillow, it took a moment to place where I was and what was going on. My mouth felt like it was filled with cotton and there was a pounding behind my eyes. I still had on my dress from yesterday, but my shoes were off, and I was tucked under the sheets.

"Fuck me." I grumbled and rolled out of bed to stumble into the bathroom. As shitty as I felt right now, I couldn't help but smile. God, yesterday had been perfect. I could vaguely remember Alex and Darcy dragging me onto the quinjet drunk and Steve meeting us in the hanger to help me get to my apartment. He must have been the one to tuck me in and pull off my shoes.

I took my time in taking a shower alongside my usual morning routine. The hot water helped the hangover significantly. Now if I got a little food in my stomach and some ibuprofen I'd be sitting pretty. Wearing the gray MIT Alumni shirt I had stolen from Tony and a pair of black bike shorts, I dragged my feet out of my bedroom to get what I needed. When my eyes landed on the person sitting on my couch I jumped in surprise, "Fuck!"

Kate, who still had on same crop top and black skinny jeans from yesterday, was sitting on my couch scrolling on her phone. She glanced up casually, as if I hadn't yelped out a curse word in surprise, and held a hand up in greeting, "Morning, sleepy head. How's the hangover?"

"Kate, what the hell are you doing here?" I asked.

"I wanted to talk to you." She shrugged. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Was this a hangover induced hallucination? Kate pushed up off the couch and moved to the kitchen. She opened my fridge and pulled out the eggs, "Breakfast?"

I slowly wandered over to my island counter and sat down on a barstool, "Kate, is everything alright?"

She didn't reply. Not immediately. Kate went about the kitchen, beginning to make breakfast, and all I could do was stare at her stiff shoulders. She was nervous. I hadn't ever seen Kate nervous before. It was one of the ways in which she reminded me of Clint. The two of them were filled with such contagious energy. The curve of their smiles made it hard for someone not to grin back in response.

Kate was the kind of person that was too easy to be around. I hadn't gotten to spend as much time with her as some of the others, like the twins, but I had spent enough time with her to know this behavior was extremely unusual. Nothing ever seemed wrong in Kate's world. Even when missions were going south she had the charm to keep the team's spirits up. Yet, here she was in my kitchen making breakfast and radiating anxious energy.

"Kate?" I called out softly.

She glanced over her still stiff shoulders and shot me a small, ghost of a smile, "How do you like your eggs cooked?"

---

Steve heard the thrashing and mumbling the moment he stepped back into his apartment. He dropped the water bottle in his hand and took off to burst into Bucky's room. His friend was twisting in bed, murmuring in a mixture of Russian and English, as sweat poured down his face. His dark hair plastered to his forehead.

"Buck!" Steve called out. His hands reached out to grab him but stopped halfway. He didn't want to make this any worse than this already was. "Bucky, you gotta wake up." In the middle of thrashing, Bucky's metal hand snapped out and grabbed his wrist. The fingers tightened and Steve clenched his teeth in pain. "Bucky, come on."

Bucky's eyes finally snapped open, wild and wide, and Steve tried not to let his pain show on his features. Steve didn't know what this nightmare had been, but it seemed different. Bucky didn't look agitated or dangerous, he looked terrified. Steve set his other hand on top of the metal one gripping his wrist, "Bucky, hey, you're okay. You're okay. You're in the Compound, in your bed, safe. You're safe."

His chest heaved with exhausted breaths, as if he had just run a marathon, and Steve tried to carefully pry the metal fingers off his wrist. Finally, Bucky's grip released as he sat up in bed looking around wildly. Steve rubbed his wrist but kept his gaze on his friend. Bucky finally turned and he looked shocked at Steve's presence. As if he were just noticing he was here, "Steve? What are you…What are you doing here?"

"You had a nightmare." Steve said slowly. "Do you—Do you remember what happened?"

Bucky ran his hands through his damp hair and then buried his face into his palms. Steve sat on the edge of the bed. He kept his distance just in case. Bucky finally pulled his hands away from his face and shook his head, "Yesterday had been so good. It was a good day, I don't—I don't know why I…"

"Hey, it happens sometimes." Steve replied. "That's okay—"

Bucky shoved himself out of bed suddenly, nearly falling over, and Steve jumped up to try and help. The man still looked lost. There was something in his eyes that didn't sit quite right. As if not all of him had entirely woken up yet. Bucky mumbled something under his breath about taking a shower and stalked away into his bathroom. The door slamming shut behind him.

Steve glanced down at his wrist that was lightly discolored. It'd be gone by lunch. He stepped out of the bedroom when he heard the shower kick on. When he reached the living room he glanced up at the ceiling out of habit, "FRIDAY, why didn't you notify anyone about Bucky?"

"His heart rate had not yet hit the warning number yet, Captain."

Steve glanced back at the bedroom once, "Can you ask Aj to come up here?"

"Aj is currently on 'do not disturb'." FRIDAY replied. Steve's face crumpled in concern. Rarely did anyone turn on the 'do not disturb' option that Tony had built into the system. Before Steve could question further, FRIDAY added, "Kate Bishop activated the mode twenty minutes ago."

Steve tilted his head, "Kate is still here?" The question was mostly to himself. He paused again then tried a new direction, "Can you call Wanda up here?"

"Wanda is on her way up." FRIDAY chimed.

Steve turned to head to his room and clean up a little bit before the teen got here. Hopefully, Wanda could do something to help Bucky get his head back onto his shoulders and his feet grounded again.

---

The woman ate her eggs cautiously. Kate found it almost amusing the way Aj brought every single bite to her mouth with skepticism. As if she expected a poison to meet her palate. It was Kate's own fault that she was so on edge. She briefly wondered if there was a better way to do this, but it occurred to her that there was no good way.

No amount of warning or easing into the topic would soften this blow.

Kate had even thought about talking to her about this yesterday, but it seemed like a dick move to ruin her birthday brunch bash. Still, a week had gone by since the trial and she couldn't push this off any longer. Waiting would help no one. It was kind of like a band-aid. Kate thought it best if she just ripped it off.

"Clint taught me everything he knows." She spoke up and she watched as Aj's confused eyes snapped up from her plate to meet her own. Kate shrugged with a small chuckle, "That includes his terrible timing unfortunately."

Aj didn't respond with even an awkward chuckle born of politeness, "What are you talking about, Kate?"

"The trial." She answered and the confusion grew. Kate could almost see Aj trying to connect dots in her mind as numbers and equations whirled around her head in a jumbled mess. Kate crossed her arms, "I should've come sooner, but I was busy with Coulson and then a mission came up and then the brunch thing—"

"Kate." Aj snapped. "If you have something to say, then say it."

That was fair.

Aj had the right to demand that.

Kate nodded once and spoke, "When I was 16, I was sexually assaulted."

In that one phrase, Kate watched all of Aj's confusion and mild irritation turn to wild eyed panic and shock. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights, like she didn't know what to say or what to do. Aj stood up abruptly, her hip clipped the table, and caused all the plates and glassware to rattle. Kate reached out to keep her own half full glass of juice from toppling over.

"I—I'm so sorry, I don't—" Aj stumbled to get the words out. "Maybe you should…you should go. Mun—Muneeba can…"

"Clint is one of the only three people who know. Four now, I guess." Kate motioned to the stunned woman across from her. Kate had told a friend from the city first. They hadn't started out friends, mostly being nuisances to one another, but Jessica Jones had grown on her quickly, and she was the first person to know about the assault. She told her therapist next, a couple years later. Then she told Clint. "I think that's why Clint stuck me in a farmhouse for so long." She chuckled with a shake of her head. "He likes to play the cool and collected dork, but in reality, he's just this nervous, over-protective dork."

Aj sat back down in her seat. She basically fell into it.

"I was walking home one night, still in my school uniform because an after-school meeting had run so late and then I goofed off with my friends at a café," Kate retold the tale. It was never easy to share, she didn't think it'd ever be easy, but it wasn't as painful anymore. The words didn't stick in her throat like glue, "I cut through the park, it was quicker that way, and suddenly I was hit from behind." She kept her gaze on Aj who looked a weird mix of angry and nauseous. "I fell, dizzy and disoriented, and then I was being grabbed. A stranger was crawling over me—"

"Kate." Aj blurted between clenched teeth.

She slowly shook her head, "I never found out who it was. Hell, I never even went to the police. I couldn't remember his face or anything about him so it seemed pointless to go to the cops. I remember that part the most, you know?" Kate paused in thought. "Not what had happened, but the moment after. When I was lying there alone in the dark, all I wanted to do was go home. So that's what I did."

Aj's gaze was on a random spot on the table. She didn't meet Kate's eyeline anymore and when the woman spoke her tone was cool and focused, "I'm so sorry that happened to you, Kate. I know saying sorry doesn't do anything or change anything but…"

"That's why I learned how to fight and how to shoot and all that other stuff." Kate ignored the controlled apology. "Life is short, and it doesn't matter what you do in it. Bad things happen. Things you can't control. Things that have nothing to do with you, and they will destroy you if you let them." She pasted on a firm smile. "I wasn't going to let that be me. I wasn't going to be destroyed by some faceless bastard in the park. Everyone chooses to heal differently, they need different things, but I healed by making sure that I'd be prepared. So, I could do my best to make sure that what happened to me never happens to anyone else."

Aj's gaze finally lifted to meet hers, emotions flashing through the cool mask she had chosen to put on, "You seriously never found the person that did that to you?" She shook her head. "Doesn't that piss you off? Don't you wanna confront this guy and…"

"I don't need to." Kate shrugged. Once upon a time she maybe felt that way. "I'm not bound to that asshole or what he did to me. The trauma, that moment, isn't part of my identity. Who I grew to become from it? That is my identity. That is who I am."

"I'm proud of you." Aj murmured. She rose again, slowly this time, and collected the dirty dishes off the table. Aj walked over to the sink, keeping her back to her the entire time, and began to run them under water. "I'm…honored you chose to share that with me of all people, but I don't understand—"

"People handle it differently, you know." Kate replied softly and she watched the woman's shoulders stiffen. "For me, I threw myself into learning how to protect myself. To a dangerous degree. I didn't sleep, I barely ate, my only focus was on knowing how to stop it from ever happening again. Eventually, with help and support, I learned I didn't have to hold onto that fear anymore, I didn't have to let it become an integral part of who I was, and I like to think I've come really far."

It had been Jessica who had pushed her onto a healthier path. Kate was content with burning herself out learning various fighting styles and spending every free moment in a shooting range. Jessica had been the one to stop her and tell her to reassess, to not let that moment claim the rest of her life.

Kate stood from the table and walked over to sit on a barstool. The water from the sink was running, but Aj wasn't washing the dishes. Her hands still frozen under the flow of water and her shoulders still tense, "Some people—"

"Kate." Aj whispered.

"Some people, they change the scenario in their head." Kate re-told the same speech that Jessica had given her. Kate had personally fallen under the first category, but she knew some people didn't have a 'category' of sorts. Every case was different, every experience, every mind. "They'll convince themselves something they know isn't true. They'll lie to themselves to survive. They'll tell themselves that it was love or a misunderstanding. Even if it's the most obvious lie in the world, it's almost incredible what our own minds can latch onto if it means our survival." Kate leaned onto the island. "And that's what this all is, a surviving mechanism. Humans were born to survive, and the things our mind can do in order to do it?" She shrugged. "Look what Bucky was able to do. His mind created Yakov to protect himself."

Aj suddenly whipped around, irritation evident on her features even though she tried to mask it, "Kate, I appreciate breakfast, but maybe it's time you left."

"Some people ignore it." Kate replied and Aj's eyes widened. "They bury the moment, the trauma, in an unmarked grave at the back of their mind and they never re-visit it. I get that, Aj, I really do."

"I don't know what you're trying to insinuate—"

"If you never talk about it, if you never think about it, if you never say what happened out loud then it never happened, right?" Kate said firmly. "As long as you refuse to admit it then you can keep on pretending like it wasn't real."

"Kate—"

"But you can't." Kate shook her head. "Maybe ignoring feels good right now, but it will affect every aspect of your life if you don't stop it. It can haunt every relationship if you let it—"

"Kate!" Aj slammed her hand onto the island counter. Her blue eyes seemed to glow with rage. Aj's jaw clenched and unclenched, "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about. You don't fucking know me."

Kate pressed her lips together as Aj seethed. She spun back around and angrily began to wash the dishes again, but it sounded more like her slamming things around. She sighed, "Aj, I'm not trying to upset you." The woman scoffed without turning around. "I just needed to tell you this. That you need to address this. It's important for you to."

"You don't know anything." Aj glared over her shoulder, "I don't need you projecting your struggle onto me. I'm sorry about what happened to you. God, I'm so sorry, but that isn't me. I'm not you."

"Of course, you're not me." Kate replied. "But you've built your entire identity on a very fragile lie, and if you don't face the truth yourself you run the risk of all of it collapsing around you. I don't want to see that happen to you."

Aj shut the water off, her movements harsh, and then she leaned against the counter. Finally, she turned around wearing a tight smile that didn't match the mood. She shook her head once, "You're right. Your timing is shit."

"Sorry." Kate replied.

"Can you go?" Aj asked motioning to the front door.

Kate opened her mouth, but hesitated for a second, "Aj, I think I just opened up a can of worms here I don't think it's a good idea—"

"I want to be alone, Kate."

"Aj—"

"I have your number." Aj replied, but her tone was sharp this time.

Kate slowly rose from her seat in hopes that she would change her mind, but it didn't happen. Leaving her alone to her thoughts didn't seem like the grandest of ideas. In fact, it seemed like a downright shitty idea and that was coming from her. Kate paused again by the archway that led into the foyer, "Maybe you should call Natasha up here. Her or Wanda. I think they'd be good to talk to and I know you're more comfortable with them…"

"Kate," Aj crossed the space, and the archer was caught off guard when she was pulled into a hug. Kate lightly gave her back a few pats while tightening the hug. "I'm comfortable with you. You're a really good friend and I trust you." She pulled back with a small smile. "You're incredible. I had no idea what you've had to face in the past. And I know…I know you meant well with this. I just need…"

"Time to think." Kate nodded. "Seriously, please call someone."

"I will." Aj squeezed her arm. "I promise."

---

Bucky was doing better. She could see that from where she sat at the dining room table in the common space. He was in the kitchen talking quietly to Tony and Vision. Everyone was concerned about Aj and the fact that she was still hidden away from everyone else in her room under the 'Do Not Disturb' function. Any other day and Wanda would be equally as concerned, but she couldn't seem to move any concern off of Bucky and onto the woman.

Steve had called her into their shared apartment this morning and Wanda had taken the time to calm her good friend's mind, but it wasn't entirely right yet. Bucky still walked tense, shoulders stiff and steps too heavy, and Wanda knew it wasn't from the Aj scenario. This morning when she stepped into his bedroom she could sense Yakov's presence. He was more aware than he usually was for some reason and though Bucky still had control when she walked in he was lingering on the outskirts waiting for something.

Even now, after calming his mind, Wanda could still feel Yakov. He wasn't nearly as present as he had been this morning, but he hadn't disappeared. Wanda let her conscious drift away as her powers focused into place. Wanda stepped outside of her body and concentrated all her attention on Yakov.

"You were the intruder." Yakov's voice echoed around her.

Wanda sucked in a sharp breath and focused enough to make his voice center in on one spot. The same version of him she saw in his head stood a step behind Bucky in the kitchen. It was easier to speak to him, learn from him, when he was in a form she could keep in front of her rather than just an energy or presence.

"Why are you here?" Wanda asked firmly. "Bucky no longer needs you."

"As long as the Soldier remains, he needs me." Yakov replied.

Wanda's eyes narrowed, "The words? The programming?" Yakov turned his attention to stare at the back of Bucky's head. "If we get rid of the words…" There was no reply. Wanda stepped forward and Yakov's form shimmered. "Are you going to hurt Steve?"

"The mission is protection."

Something still felt off, but Wanda couldn't put her finger on it. The faint sound of someone calling her name is what snapped her back into her body. Wanda took in a sharp gasp and leaned back in her seat. From beside her, Pietro shot her a concerned glance, "I've been calling you. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Wanda reassured her brother with a nod.

Perhaps that was the next step they needed to focus on. Getting rid of those words. Getting rid of the programming. Wanda just wondered if her powers were great enough to do just that.

---

"Ms. Bradshaw, you've had 'Do Not Disturb' on for the past eight hours." FRIDAY chimed overhead. "Would you care to remove it? You have several memos."

Memos was the nice way of saying that everybody outside my apartment had been trying to get my attention. It was part of the 'Do Not Disturb' program. I blinked and it took me a moment to find my voice, "Keep the DND on, FRIDAY."

"Of course."

I leaned my head back against the wall. After Kate had left, I had just sat down on the floor and leaned up against the wall. That felt like it had only been maybe an hour or so ago though. Where had all that other time gone? FRIDAY's voice had brought me back into reality though and I could see the lighting had changed in my apartment. Morning light had disappeared and now we were verging on the evening sun.

Kate had said…

She had talked about…

I shoved off the ground and scrambled across the floor to try and find wherever I left my phone. There was something crawling under my skin, and I couldn't recognize it. There was a graveyard in the back of my mind with tombstones I could greet by name. There was a spot for when my mom died, there was a grave for when my dad left, and then when Aubrey left. There were graves as far as the eye could see. Enough so that it was easy enough to lose track of one nameless tombstone near the back of the plot.

Kate had told me to call someone, and I had promised to do just that. I finally got my hands on my cell phone and hit the number I had been looking for. The line rang until the voicemail greeted me. I sighed, "Karen, hey, look I need to get in touch with Frank. I get that you're respecting his space or whatever, but the jackass hasn't called me since you gave him my number. Just—I need to talk to him."

I hung up the phone and began to pace across my apartment restlessly. I needed a distraction, and nothing was a better distraction than getting this Frank shit settled. It wasn't like I could go out amongst the Compound to work out. The Avengers would come down on me like a crashing wave. The only thing keeping them out was that damn 'Do Not Disturb' feature. Granted, if I kept the DND on and got lucky I could maybe sneak into the gym without them noticing. Still, the gym was such a high traffic area that there would be no way I got away with that.

My hand was hitting the call button again, but again Karen didn't answer. I called again, and again, and one more time. Why wasn't she answering? I paced the length of my apartment four more times before it grew to be too much.

"FRIDAY, where are all the Avengers? Any in the stairwell?"

"Not at the moment, Ms. Bradshaw. Most are in the lab right now with—"

I didn't wait for her to finish talking. I scooped up my keys and, still in my MIT shirt and spandex shorts, I sprinted out of my apartment and into the stairwell. It would take me down to the first floor and from there I could cross to get to the garage. It took about ten minutes to get to my Jeep and started driving. It was only when I was out on the road in front of the Compound that I realized I wasn't wearing any shoes.

I focused on the way the rubber on the pedals felt under my bare feet as I drove. The cloth seats under my thighs and the chorus of some random song on the radio swimming around my head. The sky gradually grew darker as I drove, the trees on either side of me turned to the edges of the city, and soon there were other cars driving around me as I hit traffic. In fact, I was on autopilot, and it didn't end until my Jeep was parked on a very familiar street. A million times I had walked up and down this street, but never had I had my own car to park here.

It seemed odd to me that my body, when left to its own devices, drove me here. For some reason, after everything I had been through, I thought I had wiped this part of me out of my usual habits. Yet, here I was again. With a sigh, I shoved out of my jeep and flinched when the soles of my feet touched the rough asphalt of the old and broken road. It gave me pause and I hesitated outside my Jeep door. My eyes darted to the gauntlets around my wrists. I quickly tore them off and tossed them into the cup holders of my Jeep. I wasn't trying to actively hide, but I knew with those on I'd have an Avenger hovering over me the moment they realized I was gone.

I got odd looks as I walked from my Jeep to the bar, but there was no telling whether or not those looks were from my state of undress or them recognizing who I was. Being in Jersey City, some of them could even recognize me from my Small Fry days. I pushed into the crowded bar and made a bee line to where I saw Alex pouring drinks.

Their eyes landed on me and widened, "Aj? What're you doing out here? Did you call me?"

"No." I shook my head. "I need shoes."

"What?"

I lifted one leg to show them my bare feet. Alex blinked in shock then mumbled for me to follow them into the back. When they shut the back office door behind us, I crossed my arms. Alex just stared, "Why are you out in Jersey City alone and without any pants or shoes?"

"I have pants." I lifted the hem of the baggy shirt I had on to showcase my biker shorts. Alex shot me a glare and I let the shirt fall back in place. "Seriously, I just need some shoes."

They hesitated, for just a moment, then turned to a closet and began to rifle through it. Finally, they came back with a pair of worn-out sneakers. I immediately snatched them and began to pull them on. The shoes were a size too big, but I pulled the laces as tight as I could.

"Aj?" I looked back up to meet their concerned gaze. Alex shook their head, "What is going on?"

"Nothing. I'm meeting with someone soon." I left out the part where the person I was trying to meet might not know that I even wanted to meet them. Karen still hadn't called me back at all.

"No good comes out of meeting people around here." Alex shook their head. "Not when it involves you."

I forced a smirk, "I meet you here all the time."

"Aj, seriously." Alex said firmly. "You have a look in your eyes that I do not like."

My features fell back into a passive state. No point in forcing an emotion I didn't feel if they were gonna see through it anyways. Alex opened their mouth again, but I cut them off, "I'm fine. Just gotta handle some shit. Don't call the Avengers."

"They don't know you're out here?" Alex pressed in shock.

"Alex." I snapped. "You didn't see me here. Got it?" Alex locked their jaw in response, and I narrowed my eyes into a glare, "Alex."

They scoffed, "Fine, but if I don't hear from you in the next hour then I'm calling Bucky." I turned on my heel and began to walk off, and Alex called out after me one last time, "One hour, Aj!"

"Yeah, yeah." I mumbled without breaking my pace.

When I got back outside, I only took a second to pick a direction and then I started moving. This part of Jersey City was just as I left it. Gloomy, shady, smelly, and radiating danger from every dark corner. It only took me a couple blocks to feel back at home though. Five years I had wandered these streets at all times of day and it made the area more familiar to me. I didn't have to be scared of the dark around here because I knew exactly what monsters lurked there.

I used to be one of those monsters.

The plan was to find Frank Castle. That was all I had though. A name and a desire. I had no actual method of doing this other than peeking down every other alley and hoping to find his rugged features there wailing on some criminal. In fact, as I passed another block of my old home, I realized I hadn't even brought my phone with me to call Karen again. I had left it in my Jeep. So now, I had no real plan, no phone, a pair of shoes that didn't actually fit me, and a brain that wouldn't stop screaming anytime I tried to stand still long enough to have a coherent thought. Cool.

"Aj!"

The sound of a chirpy, youthful voice calling out my name in this part of town was so out of the blue that I almost thought I was imagining it. Nothing surprised me more than when a red and blue blur dropped down onto the sidewalk beside me. My eyes widened in shock as I took in the sight of Peter all decked out in his Spider-Man uniform. I shook my head, "Pet—"

"Ah ah ah!" Peter reached out to set his gloved hand over my mouth.

I nodded once and he removed it, "Spider-man, what the hell are you doing out here?"

"Patrolling?" Peter replied with a shrug as he strolled beside me without a care in the world. If I wasn't getting enough odd looks before I sure as hell was now.

I shot him a glare, "Jersey City is a little outside of your friendly neighborhood."

"Well, yeah." Peter shrugged. "I'm actually meeting a friend out here. I assume we'll be friends, at least. She's actually another hero! We ran into each other in Queens, and she needed help with something so she asked me to—"

"Whoa, whoa, wait." I stopped and Peter came to a stop beside me as well. "Another hero? Who?"

"She calls herself Ms. Marvel. She's pretty cool and she's got this neat power where she can—" Peter continued to ramble on while I connected the dots in my head. I knew Kamala Khan was an inhuman running around the city and she told me herself she lived in Jersey City. Could this be the same person? Peter threw his arms out expressively, "—and she just blocked it, it was incredible!"

I began to walk again, and he followed, "When you see… Ms. Marvel, tell her the Avengers would love to meet her." Peter nodded. "Also, what problem are you guys working on? Tony hasn't sent you a mission and you haven't sent any details of this to him."

"Er, well, funny story," Peter began, and I knew it wasn't going to be something I considered funny based off his tone, "Ms. Marvel found the issue herself and is just asking for an assist. It really isn't that big of a deal—"

"Then why are you beating around the bush and not telling me about it, Spider-Man?"

"Why are you out here, Aj?"

My eyes widened and I pointed at him, "Hey, don't flip this around on me, mister. I'm asking the questions here."

"Seriously, Aj." Peter began and I rolled my eyes at the phrase. "You don't look like you should be out here right now. You don't even have pants on—"

"I'm wearing pants!" I snapped and lifted my shirt to show the biker shorts again. Even behind the mask, I could tell Peter was wearing a look of shock from my sharp tone. I never, ever raised my voice at him like that. Sure, I've gone up a few decibels when scolding him about being reckless while in the suit, but never like that. Despite my infamous temper, I never snapped at the kids. I sucked in a breath and let my shirt fall, "Sorry, it's been a…weird day."

Peter nodded, "Do you need help?"

"No. You go help Ms. Marvel. I want you to text me if anything happens or if you need help though—" I remembered that I wasn't carrying my phone. "Actually, text Tony."

"Are you sure, Aj? You look…."

I chuckled, "What? You don't like the look in my eyes either, Spider-Man?"

He shook his head, "You look scared, Aj."

My jaw locked as my feet stumbled over one another before coming to a stop. Peter tilted his head at me in concern and I just shook my own before mumbling reassurances that I knew he could hear. Peter hesitantly held his arms out, probably unsure because of the odd scenario surrounding us, but I pasted on a smile and pulled him into a hug that he eagerly returned. I rubbed his back a few times.

"Be careful out here, Pete." I said quietly.

"Always." Peter replied chirpily as he pulled away. "You be careful too though, Aj."

I stayed in place and watched him take a running start before zipping away. He was a lot lower down to the street here in Jersey City than in Manhattan. When he disappeared out of sight, I continued down the street at a wandering pace.

I felt lost, confused, hurt, and the only way I knew the quickest way, the easiest way, to make all of that better was to find a fight. A brief flash of shame filled my bones at the realization that if the ring was still operational around here I would've ended up there. My fingers twitched as I itched for forward motion. The walking wasn't enough. It left me too alone with my thoughts.

The streetlights officially flickered on, and I turned down an alley to get to the seedier part of the area over by the port. The few people I did pass shot me questioning looks that I ignored. I got further down the street when I started yelling.

"Hey, Frank!" The louder my voice, the quieter my head. "Where you at, Frankie!? I've been looking for you! Frank!"

This went on for another ten minutes before I was answered, but the man who stepped out from an alley ahead of me was not Frank Castle. Two more men about the same height and size wandered out with him.

"Will you shut the fuck up?" The first guy snapped at me.

I didn't acknowledge any of their features or characteristics. I took in what I needed to know. None of them were carrying firearms, but one of the guys had a knife tucked into his belt. They were slim rather than bulky, which meant they'd be opponents that relied on speed and not brute strength.

"Why don't you make me?" I called back in a level tone.

"Dumb bitch." One of them scoffed and the group turned to leave and go back to what they were doing before.

I stepped after them, "What? Are you scared?"

"Excuse me?" The guy in the front glanced over his shoulder at me. "Why don't you run off to your little boyfriend, this Frank idiot, and get the fuck outta here."

I let out a laugh, my hands clenching and unclenching, "Should've known you punk ass bitches were more talk than walk. Pussies."

"Bitch, don't make me put you in your place." The man began to storm toward me. "I ain't afraid to hit some loud-mouthed girl!"

"Do it. Hit me, you dumb motherfucker." I grinned. "Just give me a reason."

The man cocked his fist back, but one of his friends caught him by the elbow and my smile fell. He yanked his friend back and shook his head, "Dude, that's the Avengers girl." All three looked at me now with wide eyes. The one who had first recognized me held his hands up, "We don't mean trouble."

"Oh, come on!" I yelled. "Maybe I mean trouble!"

"We don't want nothing to do with this." The one who had been ready to swing on me replied and I watched helplessly as all three of them ran back into the alley out of sight. I jogged after, but when I got to the mouth of the alley I saw them exit the other end and disappear.

"Fuck!" I barked and punched my hand into the side of a nearby metal dumpster. The sound echoed off the alley walls and the ache in my knuckles was a familiar and comforting pain. All I wanted was a bloody, no rules brawl and I couldn't even get that. Why couldn't there be an app for this? Like Tinder, but instead of hook-ups it was just fist fights.

I ran my fingers over my red knuckles and glanced at the shallow indents in the dumpster from where I had hit it. I left indents? My hand reached out to brush against the marks, but before I could question the integrity of the metal I heard as a car began to pass me but rolled to a stop instead. I glanced over my shoulder at the old, beat up pick-up truck. The streetlights didn't cast any light into the cabin of the truck and the driver's face was covered in shadows.

The man leaned across the bench seat and swung the passenger side door open. The motion let enough light flash across the rough features of a man I had only seen in pictures. My eyes widened and I took in a sharp breath.

"Stop screaming at the local gangs and get the fuck in." Frank grumbled.

I stepped forward, but just stood in the doorway. He looked rough for wear. There was a bandage over his nose and the bruising around it and his eyes told me it had been broken recently. His bottom lip was busted and there was a dark bruise on his jawline. His dark eyes bore into me, but I saw no malice or threat in them.

"Come on." Frank added. "You've been calling Karen non-stop. Well, here I am."

---

The 'Do Not Disturb' feature was his idea, his creation, and Tony stood by it. It had only been used a handful of times, but each time had been needed by whoever activated it. Today was the only day he had ever been tempted to tell FRIDAY to 'fuck the program' so he could kick down Aj's door and figure out what the hell was happening.

Eight hours.

Eight.

By hour two, he was at the edge of his seat with worry. Now? Tony was a few seconds away from ripping his hair out by the roots. They'd send memos, the equivalent of a doorbell ringing, but no response came from Aj. It was why nearly everyone was gathered in his lab arguing.

"What if she's hurt?" Steve pressed, his arms crossed tightly. Tony was surprised that the man wasn't with Bucky, who was apparently also having kind of a shitty day, but the man did still have Wanda and Pietro by his side. "And that's why it hasn't been lifted?"

Tony shook his head, "The DND is automatically shut down and someone in the area is warned if the person is injured or…" He locked his jaw once briefly. "…or if they're a danger to themselves."

"Perhaps she just needs time alone." Vision offered.

"I'm perfectly fine with that, but I'd just like to know she's okay." Natasha replied. "Just an acknowledgement of some kind. "

Tony nodded once, "You get in touch with Kate yet?"

"No." Clint answered grumpily, his eyes on his phone. "I'm starting to think she's ignoring my calls on purpose."

Steve shook his head, "What could Kate have possibly wanted to talk to Aj about that could lead to this kind of lock down?"

It was a good question. Tony had been trying to figure out the answer to that for the last eight hours, but he didn't know Kate well enough to figure it out. His eyes darted to Clint who had stopped fiddling with his phone. The man stood frozen for a second and Tony could see him waging a war in his mind as he mentally answered that question himself. If anyone would know what Kate wanted with Aj it would be him. A sharp look of denial flittered across his features before Clint went back to messing with his phone.

"Clint…" Tony called out.

Clint didn't meet his eyes. In fact, he turned to leave, "When I get Kate on the phone I'll let you guys know."

The archer disappeared out of the lab. Natasha's gaze met his own for a brief moment before the red head turned and followed her partner out. If anyone could get information out of Kate it was Clint, and if anyone could get information out of Clint it was Natasha. Tony turned back to the lab where everyone was lost in their own thoughts. A few more times Steve, Sam, or Vision would speak up with something they probably thought was helpful, but Tony was getting into the groove of ignoring them.

"Can we—" Steve was cut off with a familiar blur of blue and white swept into the room.

Eyes shot to Pietro who glanced around before focusing on Steve, "Bucky is trying to leave the Compound."

"He has permission to, he's not a prisoner here." Tony argued.

"Yeah, but he shouldn't right now after what happened this morning." Steve argued.

Pietro waved his arms to regain focus, "He only wants to leave because Alex called him and told him that Aj came to the bar to speak to them and ask for shoes."

An awkward beat of silence passed before the room followed Pietro out like a panicked parade. Tony stayed behind and immediately called for his Iron Man suit. Stopping Bucky from bursting out of the Compound wasn't going to fix anything and he could get to Aj much faster than the others. Tony was rocketing through the night sky before Steve and the others even reached Bucky, he assumed.

"FRIDAY, track Aj's Jeep, bracelets, and phone." Tony asked.

"They're all in the same location, boss." FRIDAY replied. The three blinking dots were all huddled together on the street outside of Billy's bar in Jersey City. If Tony was lucky then this meant Aj was just sitting in her Jeep waiting for someone to come get her.

Tony was never lucky.

"Boss, you got an incoming call."

Off to the side, Natasha's photo flash on his HUD display. He took the call, "Nat—"

"Where's Aj?" Natasha demanded with urgency in her voice.

"Her Jeep is parked outside of Billy's bar, and it's got her phone and bracelets inside it." Tony replied. "I'm on my way to the area now to find her. Did Clint get in touch with Kate yet?"

"…no."

Tony narrowed his eyes, "Try again."

"He hasn't gotten in touch with her, but…he may have…puzzled out the situation on his own." Natasha replied and Tony didn't like the sound of her tone. She cleared her throat, "Send me the location of her stuff. I'm heading there. You should head back—"

Tony nearly stumbled in the sky, "Head back? What's going on? What did Clint puzzle out?" Silence met his question. "Nat?" Still more silence. He got the message and sighed. "Fine. Just bring her home, yeah?"

"Of course." She replied before hanging up.

There was a nervous energy settled under his skin after that conversation. He didn't like how unclear Natasha was being on the subject. Tony didn't like not knowing exactly what was going on with Aj. He wanted to be of use, to help her, and he had never been known for being good at sitting on his hands. Tony was in the process of banking in the sky to rocket back to the Compound when FRIDAY brought up a blinking 'spider'symbol on his display.

"Boss, Peter's suit is sending out readings that are rising above the levels you have set in the training wheels program."

"What the hell is that kid—" Tony began to change directions without thought.

"He's at the port in Jersey City, boss!"

This time Tony did stumble mid-air as he tried to stop himself from shooting towards Queens. Jersey City? Why were his people going through crisis in Jersey of all places? Like what the hell was going on today? Tony took off to get to the ports. As he got close, he worried he'd have to activate the tracker in the suit to find the kid, but the blur of red and blue soaring into the air and toward the side of a building was clue enough. He shot to the side just in time to catch the kid before he slammed into the brick wall.

"Mr. Stark?" Peter called out in surprise.

Tony shot him a glare despite it not being visible, "What the hell are you doing out here, kid?"

"Fighting—"

An alarm blared in his suit and Tony looked up in time to see a large moving metal object get thrown at them. Peter was one step ahead of him, on the same page, and before he could get them out of the way the kid acted. Peter squared his feet onto Tony's shoulders and kicked off hard. The force was strong enough to send them both backwards in opposite directions as the metal chunk flew between them and into the building.

"—that guy." Peter motioned to the port.

Tony turned in time to spot a man standing on a dock in a trench coat type jacket. His most notable feature being the fact that his entire head was shaped like a cockatiel bird. Tony blinked in disbelief, "…Bird?"

"I am not a bird!" The bird yelled before throwing his arm out to send another projectile out toward them. This time Tony saw it clearly enough to realize the projectile was a robot alligator of sorts.

Tony blasted it out of the sky with wide, confused eyes while Peter rushed the bird. His plan had been to help, but a new figure was noticed on the scene. A young girl, decked out in blue, red, and yellow, leaped from a ship toward the bird and Tony watched as her fists enlarged to the size of boulders as she brought them down onto where the bird guy had been standing. He dodged in time but Peter was there to yank him back with a web so the girl could slam an overgrown fist into the bird's chest.

"What the fuck is going on?" Tony breathed to himself.

The attack had sent the bird guy flying into the water. Tony saw him resurface briefly, call out a vague threat, and then disappear under a flock of robot alligators that ducked under water with him. They left his view and suddenly Tony was left with a lot more questions than answers. He dropped down onto the concrete portion of the port and let his mask slide up, "Uh, Spidey? Can we talk?"

"Mr. Stark!" Peter jogged over. "How'd you find us? Did Aj call you?"

"I was—wait." Tony shook his head. "Aj? Have you seen her?"

The kid nodded, his suit torn on the shoulder where something must have caught him, "Yeah! I saw her walking down the street on my way here. She didn't look so good." The words did nothing to quell his own worries. "Is she okay?"

"Yeah." Tony lied with a nod. "What's going on here? Why are you fighting a bird man? Side note, Clint's gonna be real upset that his nickname was stolen and taken so literally."

"Ms. Marvel asked me to help out with—"

"Ms. Marvel?"

"That's me!" A happy voice chirped. The dark-haired girl ran over with a bright grin. She had a dark blue tunic of sorts, a yellow lightning bolt stitched onto the front, with red sleeves and red leggings. A blue mask covered the area around her eyes. "You're Iron Man! Wow!"

Jesus Christ, it was another kid running around the city with superpowers and a homemade costume. If Tony saw one more overly brave child risking their life around the city in a cotton uniform he was going to have a stroke, he swore it.

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Marvel." Tony said slowly. "Impressive…stretching?"

"Thanks!" She replied excitedly.

Peter leaned on her shoulder, "She's an inhuman! Like Daisy!"

The two of them began to explain more about the bird guy, but the weird hybrid man was yesterday's news to him right now. An inhuman child running around Jersey City. Tony was only aware of one inhuman child living in Jersey and the fact that Ms. Marvel's eyes looked so familiar was probably not a good sign. There was no way Bucky's therapist, Muneeba, was okay with her only daughter fighting crime late at night.

Tony waved his hands to cut into the kids' conversation, "Has Spidey invited you to the Compound yet, Ms. Marvel?"

Her eyes widened comically. Tony smirked as Peter bounced in place, "Yeah, Aj told me I should do that too." That probably meant Aj had worked this out as well. "I go to the Compound to train and stuff, you should definitely swing by!"

"In fact, I insist." Tony added and nodded toward her. "I'd like to offer you an update on the superhero costume front. Spider-man was running around in goggles and a hoodie until I got my hands on him."

Peter pointed at him, "I am infinitely proud of my goggles still."

"I really couldn't take you up on that offer, Mr. Stark—"

"Please. You'd be doing me a favor. I love new projects and you'd be more than welcome to come into the lab and work with me on it." Tony said. Muneeba had always mentioned the girl had a penchant for science. The gleam in the young hero's eyes told him he had her hook, line, and sinker. "Swing by whenever. I'm sure you got Spidey's number." Tony let his mask fall back into place. He pointed at Peter, "Go home, kid. Both of you. It's way past your bedtimes."

They complained, but he rocketed up into the air before he could hear them. Between the twins, Kate and Daisy, Peter, and now Kamala Khan they were slowly building an army of children heroes. Tony wasn't keen on marching them into battle anytime soon, but people said kids were the future for a reason. With the right kind of protection and training, these kids could be that future. They'd be better than the Avengers ever were. That was the goal at least. Tony mentally worked on designs he could use for elastic superpowers in his head as he flew back home. It was more productive than worrying, and it kept him from ignoring Natasha's earlier advice and searching the streets for Aj.

---

After climbing into his truck, he drove to a small diner nestled between two abandoned buildings. The entire car ride was deathly silent, and as we walked into the diner and sat down it stayed that way. Frank Castle sat across from me in the tiny booth of this rundown place. There was only one other couple sitting at a booth a few down from us and a man sat at the diner bar alone. The fluorescent lighting somehow made all his injuries look ten times worse. His white shirt was bloody, fresh, and he wore a dark green military styled jacket over it. I could see the chain of his dog tags peeking out from the collar of his shirt.

"Those are mine." I finally broke the silence.

Frank hooked his thumb into the chain and pulled it out in one swift motion, "You mean the dog tags with my name on 'em?"

"Yeah." I replied firmly.

"Karen gave them to me."

"On loan." I said. "I want them back."

Frank narrowed his eyes at me, "Why?"

"I…" I swallowed and shifted in my seat. "I don't know why." Frank's features remained harsh, but something in his gaze softened. "I was kind of hoping you could tell me."

Frank stared at me for a long moment. Eons seemed to pass. He finally nodded once, "You don't remember me, do you?" I felt my breath catch in my throat at his question. He sighed in disappointment, "Didn't think so."

"Who the hell are you, Frank Castle?" I demanded.

Frank chuckled, a smirk pasted on his face, "That's Uncle Frankie to you."

A waitress chose to come by at this point and Frank greeted her by name. I just sat in shock across from him. Uncle… Fucking what? Good news, this was exactly the distraction I needed. Bad news, I was losing my fucking mind.

Frank ordered something for me, and the waitress walked away. I finally found my voice and eloquently expressed my distress, "What the actual fuck did you just fucking say?"

"You didn't even grow up around me or your dad and you still got a mouth." Frank chuckled. "Liza'd still find a way to blame me for it. She'd wring my neck if she were still alive."

The sound of someone using my mom's nickname so casually in a sentence made my breath catch in my throat. Frank held my gaze for a second before pulling a wallet out of his coat pocket. He rustled through it before pulling out a photo and sliding it across the table. It was an older photo. The edges were worn and bent, and the color had faded a good bit. Still, I could recognize my mother. She was younger, maybe early teens, but her features would always be recognizable to me. Beside her was a young, dark haired boy.

"She got dad's blond hair and blue eyes. We used to joke that it was a miracle those features could beat out mom's darker ones at all." Frank chuckled. "But she was basically a more feminine carbon copy of him."

I shook my head, "What are you trying to say?"

"You look like her, you know." Frank said softly.

"I've never looked like my mom." I replied quickly.

Frank chuckled, "Not Liza. Our mom. You look like your grandmother. 'Cept the eyes."

"No, no, no." I breathed in disbelief. I had no recollection of any grandparents from either side. Not even a mention of them. I always assumed they were out of the picture. "No, this isn't—you're lying." The picture in front of me was damning evidence and my gut told me this wasn't a lie, but I couldn't accept this quite yet. I couldn't wrap my head around this. None of the research I had done mentioned Frank's early life, so I had nothing to compare it to, but… "You aren't—"

"Your mom's name was Elizabeth Castle. She was my older sister by ten years. Mom and dad had her in Sicily before they immigrated over to Queens." Frank shrugged. "After they got here is when they had me. When I was 8, Liza ran away from home. I didn't get it then, but now I understand that it had to do with the fact that she was a mutant."

My eyes widened, "W—What?"

"I still don't get it completely." Frank shook his head, anger settling on his features. "She kept a lot from me. All I know is that the next time I saw her, I was 16 and she suddenly had 2 kids and a husband. Liza didn't tell me a lot. Said it was safer that way." Frank sighed. "I didn't fight it because I was just happy to have my sister back in my life."

I held my hands up, "Assuming any of that is even true, why the hell don't I remember you then?" Frank didn't reply and the waitress came back with two waters for us. When she walked away again, I leaned forward on the table. "I have no memory of you or my mom even mentioning you! Why don't—"

Frank cut me off, "It's complicated."

"Complicated?" I laughed. "It's complicated!?" I tried to shove my way out of the booth and Frank had to reach out to keep our drinks from spilling. "You know what? Fuck this, fuck you, and fuck—"

Frank interrupted my temper tantrum, "Sit your ass down now, you little monster."

My eyes widened and I dropped back down into my seat in surprise. After a beat of shock, I narrowed my eyes and shot him a glare, "I'm not crazy about that term."

"I mean it more complimentary than derogatory if that helps." He mumbled.

"How come when you call me a monster I'm not filled with a boiling rage or burning temptation to stick my fork in your jugular?" I asked curiously. No heat in my voice. I didn't quite understand it. He's a virtual stranger to me, regardless of him calling himself my uncle, and yet all he had to do was tell me to sit and I did. Him calling me a monster didn't leave me with a bad taste in my mouth. It left me… soft. There was care there.

Frank sighed, "It's what I used to call you. Little monster."

"I don't—I don't understand." I said softly, desperation clear in my voice, "Please, just—Give me something. I'm losing my mind here."

Frank's lips twitched up into a smile, "When I first met you kids, I was just 16. Aubrey was five. Adorable and shy. You had just turned one. Liza put you in my arms to hold you and you just burst into tears." He chuckled at the memory he relived in his head. "Screaming and hollerin' like I was pinching you or something. Little monster wouldn't shut up." Frank spoke with a softness in his voice. If he was a liar than he was a damn good once. "I used to baby-sit for your parents all the time."

I shook my head, "Wait, you…you lived in Alabama?"

"What?" Frank questioned. "No. I'm from Queens. Your parents lived right down the road from Liza and I's childhood home."

"No…?" I blinked in confusion, "I'm from Alabama. I was born and raised there."

"I'm actually not sure where you were born, but from age one to nine you lived in Queens." Frank shook his head. That statement made no logical sense to me. My first memories were in Alabama. That's where I started grade school and grew up. Yet at the same time… I had this nagging voice in my head that wanted to believe it. When I finished high school and went to pick a college, I knew I wanted to be as far from Alabama as I could be. Instead of somewhere overseas though or somewhere in California, my gut told me to go to New York. Something in me wanted to be in New York. Was that because I had spent time here as a kid and even though I couldn't remember it… some part of me did? I felt my heart stop at the realization. Frank kept on as if I wasn't having a existential crisis in our booth, "Your parents moved down to Alabama around the time you were ten. And then after Liza…" Frank's teeth clenched briefly before he brushed past that sore spot. "The next time I saw you girls you were 12."

"Why?"

"I got stationed overseas for a while. That's where I was when I found out…" His voice trailed off again. I nodded once in understanding. Not very good understanding because all of this felt like some wild pipe dream, but if what he said was true then I got why talking about my mom's death was hard for him. It had been his big sister after all. "That's when I gave you the dog tags." Frank said gruffly and I snapped back to the story. "I knew it was gonna be the last time I saw you in a while and I… I gave you my tags. Told you I'd only be a phone call away. For anything."

That was the most surprising thing of all. Somebody told me they'd always be there for me and for some reason I couldn't remember it. More than just 'somebody'. Family told me this. An uncle, who looked like he truly cared, told me he'd be only a phone call away and I had no recollection of any of this. I didn't understand.

I felt my lower lip quiver and had to bite down on it hard. There were too many thoughts in my head, too many emotions weighing on my heart, and I felt like I was drowning. I shook my head, "Why were the tags in my dad's leather jacket then?"

"He took 'em from you." Frank replied with a bitterness in his tone. "Said it wouldn't be a good idea for you to hold onto 'em."

Ignoring the flash of anger, I continued, "Why? Why didn't he think it was a good idea and why did you know that was the last time you'd talk to me in a while?"

Frank locked his jaw, "You're not gonna like this part, I don't think."

"Frank." I said firmly.

He nodded, "Your dad told me he was going on the run." I stiffened in my seat. "Pretty sure he took off a couple weeks after I said bye to you and your sister." Frank mumbled a curse under his breath, and I saw an anger similar to mine flash in his dark eyes. "If I had known that goddamn bastard was gonna leave you girls behind—"

"You thought he was gonna take us with him?" I gasped.

"He told me to my face that he was gonna." Frank replied gruffly. "I had no idea he planned on—"

There was a pause of silence where I could feel the rage rolling off him in waves. I shook my head and tried to bring the focus back onto my confusion, "What—Why was he on the run in the first place?!"

"Hell if I know." Frank answered. "Like I said, your parents kept me out of the loop. The moment I find your dad though I plan on asking him exactly that."

"You're looking for him?" I asked and he nodded.

"It's not my main priority right now, but I need to talk to him. You know where he is?"

"No." I replied, and Frank raised an eyebrow at me. I leveled a glare back at him in response. "I don't. As far as I'm concerned, the jackass is dead to me. I hate him."

Frank let his eyes trace my features for one more moment before he shook his head with a chuckle, "Practice saying that a few more times in the mirror and maybe one day I'll believe it." I frowned and he chuckled. "Lucky for you though, I actually do hate your dad. So don't worry. He'll get what's coming for him."

The waitress came back with food, and she set a burger and fries in front of me. I gave her a tight smile and quick thanks. When I looked closer at the burger, I realized it had lettuce, ketchup, mayo, cheese, but no tomato or pickles. It was my preferred way of eating a burger. I glanced up at Frank who nodded once.

We ate in silence for a moment and the entire time I tried to take in more details of the man in front of me. My supposed 'Uncle Frankie'. When I woke up this morning with a hangover, I really didn't think this was where my day was going to go, yet here I was. Halfway through my own burger, I set it down and brushed off my hands.

"You gotta give me more." I said, "I'll take anything at this point."

Frank finished chewing what he had in his mouth then nodded, "I don't actually know a lot."

"Well, you know a hell of a lot more than I do." I replied dryly. I let out another bark of laughter, "Here, I'll give you an easier topic." I pointed at him. "Are you my 'guardian angel'?" Frank shot me a sheepish look. "That's what I thought."

"I saw you in stumbling down an alley March of 2011." Frank cleared his throat. "I didn't know what the hell was going on. I followed you home. You passed out outside an apartment door, so I carried you in." He shrugged. "Did a little digging and that's when I found out what happened. I was living in the city with my own family…" Knowing what I knew about what happened to his family, I felt my face fall. "I had a friend keep an eye on you when I was overseas. That was most of 2011, 12, and 13."

I opened my mouth awkwardly, "I… Your family—"

"They were murdered in April 2014." Frank replied gruffly. I tried to say something, apologize maybe, but he didn't give me the time. "I kept an eye on you myself around that time. That summer some jackass tried to kidnap you—"

I nodded, "Vincent Morgan. He was the brother of the guy I had been working for. He was gonna take me to Vegas and turn me into a little baby mobster." I wrung my hands together. "He told me you stopped him—well, he told me someone stopped him. Called himself my guardian angel."

"Angel is a fucking stretch, but it sounds better than guardian devil." Frank mumbled.

"You saved me." I said, "A lot."

Frank shook his head, "I should've been there for you 14 years ago. I was just trying to make up for lost time."

"You…" I felt my throat catch as my voice wavered. "You were there. You were there when no one else was. I can't…" Despite the warmth I felt at the sentiment, there was an echoing sadness there too. "Why didn't you ever show yourself? Why didn't you ever just take me out of that life?"

Frank sighed, "I… Every answer I have for you just sounds like an excuse." He shook his head. "Even when Karen gave me your information I convinced myself you were better off and… to be honest, I felt…" He paused. "Ashamed. I'm not the person I was before. I'm not… I'm not good."

"Me neither." I whispered.

"Aimee—"

"Don't." I shook my head. "That's not who I am anymore. My name is Aj."

"Aj." Frank corrected. "I can't say I'm sorry enough. I should've been there for you girls. Your dad… meant well, admittedly, and I know he loved you guys. He loved you more than the world itself. I don't know why he left you behind and why he lied to me about it, but things just changed after Liza was murdered—"

The world stopped spinning.

"What?" I whispered. "What did you just—" Frank's eyes widened a bit, and I shook my head. "You said… after she was murdered. Not when she died. After she was—…murdered, I… Was she…?"

Frank apologized and it was the last strike. What little stability I had immediately collapsed, and I couldn't breathe. I couldn't breathe. I shoved up from the table and nearly fell to my face. A hand tried to grasp my upper arm, but I slipped out of it and ran for the door. The moment I stumbled into the night air, I felt just enough clarity to fall apart. My gasping sobs were only interrupted by a wave of nausea. I rushed to the side of the street in time to throw up what dinner I had put down.

A hand rubbed my back comfortingly until my heaving turned dry. Frank pulled me back and guided me to sit on the curb. "Stay." He barked out and stepped away. I folded my hands under my armpits tightly in an attempt to stop my hands from shaking so violently. Murdered. He said murdered. That ugly, violent word. A word that couldn't be associated with dying from sepsis or an infection. A word that meant the opposite of tragic accident. Frank came back with a glass of water and pulled a hand out from my side to force into my hand. "Drink."

I took a sip, swished it around, and spat it out off to the side into the gutter before taking another sip. Frank sounded like he was trying to mumble reassurances, but there was nothing in my head but screaming. Somehow when my dad disappeared, he took away Frank's dogtags and any memory I had of him. Somehow my mom hadn't just died of terrible luck but had been murdered. Somehow, Kate's words were still rolling around in my head. Slowly, digging into the grave I had meticulously buried years and years and years ago. Every piece of who I thought I was… it was slowly unraveling in front of me.

I pushed Frank back and stood on my feet, throwing the glass of water aside so it shattered on the sidewalk. I whipped around and the anxiety melted away as my hands balled into steady fists. Frank stood and I stepped toward him, "Tell me what the fuck you know."

"Aj—"

"Who murdered my mom?" I demanded. Frank's lips were pressed into a tight line, and I reached forward to shove him. Frank stumbled back a step. "Who the fuck murdered my mom, Frank!?"

He shook his head, "You definitely have your daddy's temper."

"Don't!" I snapped and pointed at him threateningly. "Don't. Don't you dare compare me to him. I am not him. I would never leave someone I love." Hot tears began to roll down my cheeks, but only anger filled my chest. "I would never abandon my family!"

"Kid…"

I shoved at him again, but he didn't budge this time. I punched against his chest. After a couple of blows though, he grabbed my wrists and held me there. I tried to yank back, but his grip was too strong. A gasping sob slipped from my lips again as I shook my head, "Who took my mom, Frank?" My entire body went lax, and Frank shifted his hands to hold my elbows so I didn't collapse to the ground as I sobbed. "Who took my mom from me?"

Frank pulled me into his chest, and I just buried my face into his chest and cried harder. That's where all this started, right? My mom dying was the spark that set my life on fire, burned it to a crisp. Dad only left after mom was gone. If she had never died—had never been murdered then he wouldn't have left me and my sister behind and if he hadn't left us behind then Aubrey never would've abandoned me in a shitty foster home, and if none of that had happened… if we had just kept being the typical, American dream family then maybe I wouldn't be so fucked up in the head.

'Maybe' didn't matter though.

Someone had murdered my mom, and now I was a broken little mess.

"I'm sorry." Frank rubbed my back. "I'm so sorry, Aim—Aj."

I pushed away from Frank and rubbed at my face, "Do you—Do you know who?"

"No." Frank shook his head. "I think your dad knew, but he never told me. Another reason why I'm still looking for him." My jaw clenched and the man in front of me tilted his head at me. "I see that look in your eyes, Aj. Vengeance isn't going to help you."

I sneered at him, "Then why are you looking for that information? Huh? What are you doing about the people who killed your family?"

Frank paused, his own jaw locking, before he shook his head, "I know what I'm doing. I know where my path ends, and you don't want this life."

Rather than argue with him, I just nodded and pretended to heed his warning. The look in his eyes told me that he knew I was only placating him, but he didn't press further. I knew exactly what I wanted. I wanted justice, and being where I was, I had the resources to get just that. I'd search the world and turn anything, obstacle or person, I came across to ash. There was nothing this side of the universe that would stop me from finding the truth. Maybe this justice I searched for was decorated in shades of vengeance and wrath, but as long as someone paid for what they did then it didn't matter, did it? I'd pay the cost to right this wrong, whatever it might be, to do it too.

"Aj," Frank spoke up, "Just know that when you burn the world down to get what you want, sometimes you get burned too."

"It's worth it sometimes though, isn't it?" I replied.

Frank sighed then shook his head, "What're you running from?"

My eyes narrowed at the turn of conversation, "Excuse me?"

"What are you running from?" Frank repeated. "This finding a warpath thing has to be a distraction. Your dad was the same way." My jaw locked and Frank shook his head. "Whether you like being compared to him or not there's no denying that the two of you share traits. Some good, some bad."

I shook my head, "I think it's time I leave."

"You gonna try and run? You're better than that—"

"Frank," I laughed bitterly, "You don't know me. And I don't know you. Not really. So, unless you plan on clarifying any of that shit—"

Frank held his arm out, motioning back to the diner, "How about we finish dinner?" I shook my head and he sighed. "Fine, lemme drive you to wherever the hell you parked."

"I can walk."

"Can you walk and not pick a fight with the first person you run into?" Frank retaliated. I opened my mouth, settled on telling a lie, but before a syllable could be pushed out he scoffed. "Your hesitation is answer enough. Get in the damn truck."

And because he was Frank Castle, and that apparently meant something to me, I turned and climbed into the passenger seat of the truck parked on the curb. He jogged back inside to get something, and I let my eyes settle on the interior of the truck. The backseat was covered in a tarp, and I could see the barrel of a weapon peeking out from the corner. The training Clint and Natasha had ingrained in me told me to find a weapon and hide it close to me, but there wasn't an ounce of me that felt like I was any kind of physical danger.

Frank felt safe to me.

Seconds later, Frank climbed back into the truck and peeled out onto the road. He nodded once, "Where'd you park?"

"By Billy's." I replied. "Over by—"

"I know it. Good bar." Frank grunted out. There was silence in the cabin as we drove. Frank sighed again, "Whatever it is you're running from… Is it someone or something I can beat the shit out of for you?"

I couldn't help but let out a small laugh before shaking my head, "Not exactly." In the silence of the car, it was hard to bite back what I had been hiding from. Today seemed like a day of truths. As much as the truth of my mom's passing hurt, and by God it felt like a hot knife in my heart, it meant I could do something about it. Knowing that truth allowed me the path to find that justice. What about this other truth? It was one I didn't want to face, one I had buried deep for a reason, but what could come of facing this truth? What good would come of knowing it? I couldn't think of a single goddamn reason. It was why it had been buried in the first place. "I think something bad happened." My voice was soft, but the cabin was small enough that it took no strain to hear. "Something really, really bad happened a long time ago and I've been ignoring it. I've been ignoring it so well that I didn't even realize… I'm scared to remember it." I glanced over at the driver. "I don't think it's something I would survive."

A tense silence followed my statement until Frank slowly pulled his truck over to the curb. Up ahead I could see my Jeep parked where I had left it, tires still attached thank God, but sitting on the hood was a familiar red head. Natasha leaned against the windshield casually. She stared into the cabin of the truck with a hardened glare leveled directly on Frank.

"Is she dangerous?" Frank asked gruffly.

"Yes." I replied without hesitation. "But she doesn't mean us harm. She's a good friend. Family, actually."

Another beat of quiet passed while I tried to think of what to say. Frank beat me to it though. He reached forward to open the glove compartment and pulled out a poorly wrapped, thin rectangle about the size of his palm.

"People like us," Frank began, and my eyes shot to his bruised and tired face, "Surviving is what we do. It's what makes us dangerous to our enemies. It's…" He hesitated for only a second before meeting my gaze with his dark one, "It's our curse. We'll always survive. No matter how hard, no matter how much we might not want to…"

I felt my lower lip began to quiver as I admitted, "I don't want to face this fight. I just want to keep forgetting. Why can't I just lie down and lose this one, Frank?"

"Our family…" Frank shook his head, "We don't stay down. That's why."

"I'm so sorry for forgetting you." I swallowed thickly. Frank shook his head, making a reassuring sound with his mouth, and reached forward to cup my shoulder in comfort. "This entire time I thought the only blood I had left abandoned me but this entire time—"

Frank gave my shoulder a squeeze, "It's not your fault."

"Do you know why?" I asked softly. "Why I can't remember?"

He shook his head, "My guess is it has something to do with the mutants, but like I said before… your mom kept me out of that loop. I didn't even know what she could do." I nodded once, and he sighed. "I'm a little late to the game, but I meant what I said all those years before." He pulled away to grab a pen and hastily scribbled a set of numbers on my forearm. Frank then met my gaze firmly, "You need anything, anything, and I'm only a call away." I nodded tightly. He let go of my arm and offered me the small gift he had pulled out. "Happy birthday. Technically I was gonna give it to you when you turned 13, but rather late than never, huh?"

I pulled off the wrapper and opened the small box. A gold herringbone chain necklace fell out. It was a short one, to be worn tight to the neck like a choker, and the gold seemed slightly aged. I shot him a look and he shrugged, "It belonged to your grandma. I think Liza would've wanted you to have it."

My throat grew tight again. I quickly clasped it on then threw myself across the cab to pull Frank into a hug. Tonight, was not going to be a good night. There was no way this day was going to end without me in shambles, but even then I couldn't hate all of it. Finding out months ago that someone was wandering Jersey City looking out for me was touching, but to find out it was blood that had protected me all this time?

I hadn't been as left behind as I believed.

I gave Frank one last 'good-bye' and 'thank you' before climbing out of the truck and stalking toward the Jeep. I could hear the truck rev up and leave from behind me as Natasha slid off the hood at my approach. With every step I took, I felt warm tears drip down my cheeks steadily. Her green eyes softened at the sight of me. Natasha pulled me into a hug that I melted into.

"Do I need to kill the man that just drove away?" Natasha asked in a kind, soft voice that didn't match the harshness of her mild threat.

I shook my head with a grin and pulled back to swipe at my face, "No. That was my uncle, actually." She raised an eyebrow at me, and I sighed. "It's a long story."

Natasha shrugged out of the oversized hoodie jacket she wore and slung it around my shoulders, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yes." I wrapped the jacket tightly around myself and recognized the scent the jacket radiated. Bucky. Bucky had been wearing this before her. I pulled it tighter around myself and sunk into its comfort, "But not about Frank. I need to talk to you about something else."

Natasha nodded and motioned for me to get into the Jeep. We both climbed in, her in the drivers' side, but she didn't start the car. She just turned to look at me. I leaned into my seat and let my gaze wander to the dash of my vehicle.

"Kate came to talk to me this morning." I pushed out. "She made me remember something I didn't want to remember. Something I literally hadn't even thought of in years." I swallowed the thickness in my throat and bit back tears. "Nat, I fucked up."

"Aj… Look at me." Natasha replied softly. I forced my watery gaze to hers. "Talk to me."

"When I got to New York I wanted to be different. I wanted to heal and have friends and just be—be a normal college student, you know? I wanted to leave who I was in Alabama behind." I admitted. "And I tried sohard. All those freshman mixers, I—I went to them all and I mingled, and you know—you know, how much I hate mingling and I…" I could remember it so clearly now. For a brief second, I had felt like I belonged. One of the last parties before classes started, I felt normal. The small talk was fake and forced but standing in that messy living room surrounded by laughing and dancing people and cheap beer, I felt entirely normal and like I belonged there. "There was a boy." I couldn't remember his name, or maybe I didn't want to. Maybe his name wasn't worth remembering or even thinking of. "I didn't even really like him, but he liked me. For the first time in my entire life, he was showing me the kind of attention I always craved. Like I wasn't some broken and alone, lost little girl. He treated me like the pretty, popular girl. Like I was worthy of being noticed and—and he was the kind of guy who could get any girl in the room, you know? Any girl in the room, yet he was talking to me—looking at me."

Natasha sighed, "Aj…"

"He was my first kiss." I said, "And I remember, I remember, feeling like this was the start of my new life. That I was going to finally have the life I always wanted." I chuckled. "He asked me out on a date, and I remember being so excited and it had been fun. He was a gentleman. Pulled my chair out for me, paid for the food, and invited me back to his place to watch a movie." His apartment door had been painted green. I don't know why I remembered that detail. The apartment itself I had no recollection of, but the door had been green. The door had been green, and his living room TV was broken so he said we could use the one in his bedroom.

I shook my head in slow realization, "As I say this, as I think about it, I'm realizing how many red flags there were that night, but I didn't…I ignored them. My gut told me to run, but I thought I was being a coward. I thought my anxiety was just trying to keep me from experiencing things, that I was afraid of change, and I ignored it. I just walked past every goddamn red flag." A hand grasped my own and I glanced back over to see Natasha's pained features as she squeezed my hand. "I ignored my instincts, Nat."

"What happened?"

"I said no." I replied slowly. His sheets had been blue, his comforter a thick and heavy one, and I could remember his TV in the corner playing a commercial and the sound of the fan above us, but I couldn't remember the way his heavy hands felt on me. I couldn't recall that. "I said no. We had been making out and I was okay with that, but when his hands began to trail down I—I said no." I nodded firmly. "I know I did. I remember because he asked so many times. He'd ask if he could touch me and I said no, and he'd ask again, and I said no, and again, and I said no, but then after all that I—" My breath came in a shaky gasp, "I said—I said 'Just this', and I meant just the making out, but suddenly his hand was in my jeans—"

A sob of shame tore through me and I felt arms wrap tightly around me.

"It's my fault. I should've been more clear. Maybe he misunderstood me—"

"No." Natasha pulled back and cupped my face to force me to meet her firm gaze. "You were extremelyclear about it. You said no. Repeatedly. Even if you had said yes at the end, which you didn't. It's very obvious you didn't want anything to do with that. But even if for some reason you had, that would've been coerced. Coercion doesn't count as consent."

More shaky sobs left me as I cried, "Natasha, I didn't fight." Maybe I couldn't remember the way his hands felt on my skin, how they felt in me, but I could remember lying there motionless. I remember stepping out of my body and watching it happen to me. My first real episode of disassociation. "And you know I could." Natasha tried to pull me in again, but I pushed her back as angry tears fell from my eyes. "You've seen what I'm capable of! This wasn't Eugene or Kyle or HYDRA or Vincent or some Russian mobster! This was some punk ass college frat boy, and I did nothing! I just lied there and let it happen to me. I just let myself be the victim!"

"Oh honey." Natasha shook her head, desperation in her eyes, "Listen to me, please, whether or not you were capable of fighting him off doesn't change what happened. It doesn't change what he did to you."

"Does it even count—"

"Aj!" Natasha said firmly. "I know you know what this was. Deep down I know you know it."

I shook my head, "He never went further than just his hand. And after I left, I never saw him again. People have had it so much worse than—"

"No." She said again firmly. "Aj, if Wanda came up to you and told you this happened to her—"

"Don't."

"—what would you call it?" Natasha finished and I shook my head again. "Don't lessen it because it happened to you. Don't try to compare your trauma to anyone else's. It doesn't matter what other people have faced. Pain is pain. Trauma is trauma. Aj?" I bit down on my lip to keep it from shaking. "Ask me. If it makes it more real for you. Then ask me."

Did I know what it was? Could I ask this? Wouldn't that make it all the more real? The truth was people have had it way worse than I did. Just look at Kate. If I claimed to be a victim of this, if I claimed that this happened to me, then wouldn't it lessen what everyone else went through? Since mine wasn't as terrible? Was I allowed to claim that something so godawful and evil happened to me when I know I had the ability to fight it off? I didn't even try to fight. I didn't throw a punch or a kick. I just laid there still as a statue. Frozen. What about all those people out there who fought tooth and nail and still it happened to them? Am I spitting in their face by claiming I was a victim of the same crime when I didn't put up nearly as strong of a fight?

"Aj." Natasha pressed again. "Ask me."

"Did it count?" I asked quietly. "Is it still rape?"

"Yes." Natasha answered without hesitation.

I felt the last of me crumble. Kate had said I built my life upon a fragile lie, and she hadn't been wrong. In an attempt to protect me, my brain had ignored so much. It blocked so much out to try and numb me from the pain. It made sense to me now why I had no interest in real relationships in college. I floated through those four years, outside of my body, and not connecting with anyone because I couldn't take the risk of what had happened before. I had branched out of my comfort zone to try and change, and the terrible ending of that attempt burned any other chances I had planned to give it.

Finding the fight had given me enough reason to wake up. Fighting was always my solution, and my body knew it fixed everything. It was why I had latched back onto it so tightly and so quickly. It was why when Kyle showed me attention, I was able to ignore any advances he tried with ease. All I cared about was the fight. My brain may have forgotten, but my body knew fighting could save me like it had before. And maybe, just maybe, it was why every time Eugene put his hands on my body I disassociated so well. I already knew how to do it. My brain knew the best way to protect itself if those touches turned to anything more.

The truth shed light on so many aspects of the past years of my life. So many decisions I made, paths I went down, were based on one moment that I refused to accept even happened. It was why anytime someone brought up the topic of dating or physical relationships I shied away and grew uncomfortable. I knew the human body was incredible of crazy and insane things when it came to protecting itself, but looking at the truth now… how could I have ever been so blind to it? How could I have bought the lie 'that I was okay' so easily and readily?

The truth of it all shattered that fragile identity I had built and I could feel my body shake as sobs left me. Natasha pulled me into her arms again as I cried. Pain. God, I felt pain. That moment in that bedroom had been such a low point. Shame, fear, disgust. I felt used and like trash. All of that resonated through me right now, but there was also a pang of relief. Being able to understand my actions, myself a little more, brought me a bit of reprieve, and having Natasha hold me tightly as I leaned on her and cried was the kind of comfort I always craved. It was a reminder that I was allowed to mourn. I was allowed to take this burden, this pain, off my shoulders and give myself a break. I wasn't being selfish or self-centered by admitting this trauma aloud. I wasn't spitting in the face of any other person who suffered abuse. My pain, my experience, was valid and I was allowed to feel it.

"I'm so sorry, милый." Natasha whispered in my ear. Her fingers stroked through my hair, "Tell me what I can do."

"This is enough. This is more than enough." I replied. After a moment, I pulled back and wiped my face. "But also, can you maybe drive me home. Today's been exhausting." Natasha gave me a tight smile and nodded. She started my Jeep and glanced around nervously. "Also, can you… not mention this to the others?"

"Aj—"

I shook my head, "I just want to tell them. Gradually. Maybe after all this mutant insanity blows over."

"Of course." Natasha nodded. "It's your story to tell, but… you should know that Clint knows. Obviously not the details, but he connected the dots between Kate and you." I nodded. That made sense. Natasha pulled my jeep out onto the road and shot me a quick look, "If you want me to kill this guy just let me know and you know I will."

"I know." I replied with a small chuckle. "I'll keep you updated."

Although I knew she was deadly serious, I didn't have any plans on letting the Black Widow on the loose to murder that asshole. He was not a part of my identity or who I was. He was a little, pathetic man who was desperate for some form of power and thought he was justified to take it from whoever he wanted. He was weak and vile. He was insignificant and despicable. Just like Kate said, he wasn't worth that kind of thought or effort. The man who did that to me was not a part of who I was or who I was going to be. My identity was what I became from this point on, and as awful as today seemed I knew I would survive it. I leaned back in my seat and a tired smile flickered over my features.

I would survive this and grow from this.

There was no fight I wouldn't rise from, external or internal.

I was a Castle after all.