A/N: *inhuman screech* I HAVE READERS! Thank you to everybody who has read this and special thanks to FallenAngelyuki462, Ranger-of-the-shadows, flameheart274, and topbacca for favoriting, reviewing, or following!

CHAPTER TWO: Home Sweet Home. Kinda

:Philadelphia, Pennsylvania January 11, 8:29PM:

Alex was still working on her sketchbook page, now planning her color scheme when a voice came from the front desk of the library. Today it was manned by Marjorie Heather, Alex's favorite librarian. (though not by much) She had mousy brown hair and glasses that were always slipping down her nose. Assorted bangles and jewelry were always draped across her wrists and neck. Marjorie was a firm believer in standing out, and accepted anyone, no matter how odd or different they were. That's why Alex liked her so much. In fact, Alex spent most of her time at the library. It was quiet, and few people ever talked to her.

"Alex, it's time to close up, do you have someone to pick you up?" Both people already knew the answer.

The thirteen year old grinned. "You know me, I'll blade home."

The librarian frowned. "It's raining cats and dogs out there? Won't you slip?" her glasses dropped down her face and she pushed him up again, eyes still fixed on the lanky kid in front of her. Alex sighed.

"Ms. Heather you know I'll be fine, I rollerblade in the rain all the time!" She thought for a moment. "And the snow too."

Marjorie frowned. "Fine, but go slow! And please, call me Marjorie"

Alex hefted her heavy schoolbag over her shoulders and gave the librarian another smile.

"Of course, Ms. Heather. Have a good night."

Majorie couldn't help but smile at the quiet kid's face.

"You too Alex."

-o-

Alex walked out into the frigid January air and wondered why on Earth she had worn cargo shorts. Pulling her rollerblades out of her backpack, she strapped on her wrist guards and pads. It was hard to get her elbow pads over her army jacket, but she made it work. It was quite uncomfortable though. While the rain poured down in buckets, she skated through the Philadelphia streets, dodging people her and there, but usually trying to stick to the quiet streets with fewer people.

Halfway home, she crashed into a man with a black jacket, dark gray jeans, and sunglasses? It was nighttime, in the middle of winter. Not really sunglasses weather. It seemed like he had just, poof! appeared out of nowhere.

Alex skidded to the ground, limbs flailing. The man just stopped and stood there. Ripping out her earbuds she stumbled to her feet.

Or wheels.

"I'm sorry sir! I swear, I didn't mean to bump into you, It won't happen again! I must have not been watching where I was going!" After, Alez mentally scolded herself for her stupidity. Of course she would never meet him again. He was just a random man glared at her. (At least she thinks he's glaring at her. Those shades were really impractical.) Then with a gruff, "watch it punk", he walked off leaving Alex confused and annoyed. While the whole fiasco was happening, she had missed one of her favorite songs playing.

Dang it.

Alex sighed started to roll again, though much slower. It had started to rain even heavier. How was that even possible? Picking up speed she zipped through the streets, splashing water and laughing. For the first time in a long while, a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. That ecstasy faded as she clumped up her apartment steps and grasped the door handle leading to her problems. Better to just get tonight over with. Opening the door, she was hit with the heavy smell of cheap perfume. Her mother was sitting at the table in the next room, pen flying over some papers, and Alex immediately knew their rent was overdue. Ma never wrote unless she had to.

Alex's father was a young Native American man, looking to get out of the reservation and into the "modern world". That's how he met Lilia Oliveira, a Brazilian woman with Peruvian roots who was in her early twenties, just like him. Lilia had immigrated to America as a teenager from Fortaleza, Brazil. They fell in love and had Alex. But a year after Alex came into the world, her father had gone missing. He had just simply not come home one night. No note, no phone call. Ma was convinced he left her and never talked about him. The police had given up searching. Alex didn't even know his name. And couldn't remember anything about him. Lilia was so bitter, she let her daughter know two things about her father.

He was native American

And Alex looked just like him

Unfortunately, the small girl got the wrong side of the gene pool. She looked almost all Native American. The only thing from her mother was the stormy grey eyes and the wave to her hair. Lilia resented this and took it out on Alex on every opportunity. Hurt from the absence of Alex's father Ma had stopped caring about her daughter or her life. Money was tight, and Ma expected Alex to mostly provide for herself.

Alex slowly slipped off her rollerblades and tried as quietly as she could to sneak upstairs. Unfortunately, Ma took this moment to look up.

"Onde você estava? É tarde e o jantar não está pronto." [Where were you? It's late and dinner is not ready.]

Alex sighed, and stepped down from the first step. "I'm sorry Ma, I was at the library."

Lilia frowned and snapped her fingers together twice. " Fala Português." [Speak Portugese.]

Gritting her teeth, Alex responded. "Desculpe Ma, eu estava na biblioteca."

Ma nodded. "Bom, você comeu alguma coisa?" [Good, did you eat anything?]

The teen nodded, lying through her teeth. "Sim, Ma." [Yes, Ma.]

It's not like her mother cared. Alex had a decent lunch at school and a meager breakfast. That was enough.

Finishing her trek upstairs she closed the door and plugged in her battered iPod. She had found it lying on the sidewalk, blading home from school a year ago. As she unpacked her schoolbag, Alex started to think. What would her life be like if her dad hadn't gone missing? It was something she mulled over quite a lot. Would she never have an empty stomach? Would Ma love her? Would she have nicer clothes and a bigger room? The possibilities were endless. But most importantly,

Would Da love her?

Alex flopped down on her bed, allowing a single tear to find a path down her cheek. Then she wiped it away with her sleeve. She was tough; tough kids don't cry. It took a while to drift asleep, but when Alex did, she fell into a dreamless, restless sleep.

Alex woke with a gasp, and realized she had been clenching her hands together awfully hard. Now, neat little mauve crescents lined her palms. She didn't know why she woke up.

Something just felt wrong.

Heaving herself out of bed, she stumbled to the bathroom and squeaked open the faucet. Her hands cupped the cold water, and before she could change her mind, Alex plunged her face into the freezing water. As she surfaced, gasping and trembling, she heard the sound of pottery shattering downstairs.

Immediately on guard, Alex balled her hands into fists, trying to get into as close as the position she had seen Black Widow and Captain America fought with countless times.

low center-of-gravity, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Remember, she told herself, strike hard and fast. She crept downstairs trying to be as quiet as possible, skipping the squeaky board in the middle of the staircase. Alex could feel her heart pumping, adrenaline rushing through her. Was this the night burglars decided to target her house of all places? It's not like there was anything worth stealing in this dump. Turning around the corner her breath hitched. It wasn't burglars, it was Ma.

She was kneeling in the kitchen, long thick hair shadowing her face. the one thing that Ma held dear was shattered around her, shards forming a grotesque pattern around the sobbing woman.

Though Alex's parents weren't officially married, her father had given Ma a beautiful earthenware bowl. Handcrafted, it was painted with stunning images of birds swooping in flight. it was the only thing allowed in the house that had belonged to her father, and Ma loved it with all her heart. Alex would often find her stroking at it, whispering in Portuguese, as if talking to her lost love.

Horrified, the teenager rushed over to her mother, not caring when tiny shards of the bowl pierced the pads of her feet. She knelt next to Ma and brushed away the curly black hair. A distraught tear-stained face looked up at her.

"Cheveyo always loved that bowl, and now I've broken it." Alex jerked back, mouth open and eyes wide. She had never heard her father's name.

Her mother gasped, then slowly looked back down at the decimated bowl.

"What use is it keeping these secrets from you?" Lilia sighed. "The more you don't know, the more it hurts you."

Alex, who was shaking with suppressed emotions, tore her eyes from the circling hawk on a large shard. She met the red eyes of her mother and nodded for her to continue. This is what she'd been waiting for, for her entire life.

Lilia continued, "Your father loved birds, if it was about birds it was perfect. When you were born, we named you Ahusaka. He said it meant wings, you were his little bird."

Alex shook even more. Her name wasn't Alex? Shock and sadness slowly turned to anger. The more her mother spoke, the harder her heart became. "Ma," A sharper tone in her voice stood out, making Lilia look up at her daughter. "Why do you call me Alex?"

Ma started crying even more, but Alex saw only a sniveling liar. Someone who had been keeping her while life locked away from her.

"After Chev-, your father left, I couldn't stand it. You and your name reminded me of him even more. So I started calling you Alex."

No shred of Mercy was left in Alex. Her heart was nothing but shining inky obsidian. She stood up.

"Where's my birth certificate?"

Ma frowned and shook her head. "No, I refuse to get it.'

Alex's patience was running thin. Though she rarely raised her voice, tonight would be an exception.

"Tell me where it is!" Lilia cowered under her daughter's rage.

"Tudo bem, eu entendi! Eu vou pegar os papéis! Eles estão em uma caixa, debaixo da minha cama!" [Fine I'll get it! I'll get the papers! They're in a box, under my bed!]

Wonderful, we were back to the Portuguese.

Alex stormed out of the kitchen and up the stairs again, this time taking a right into her mother's room. Getting on her stomach, she peered under the bed. There it was. A wooden box, the size of a shoebox. It had a thin lid, hinged with what looked like tarnished brass hinges. Slithering under the bed, she hooked and arm around it and slowly pulled it out. Twisting herself into a "criss cross applesauce" (as her kindergarten teacher loved to call it), she undid the latch. Hands shaking, she lifted the lid.

And held back a sob.

On top, lay a tattered photo, obviously held many times. It was a picture of the three of them, happy and smiling. Lilia had less worry lines creasing her face and Alex was a chubby one-year old. But the person that caught the most attention was the tall laughing man with his arms wrapped around his love and daughter. Cheveyo was a dark skinned man with bright, laughing eyes and a sharp nose. The trio were dressed in summer drab, shoes and tee shirts. Lilia had on a pretty flowered blouse that Alex had never seen before. All three had small braids in their hair and several strands were wrapped in bright string.

Forcing herself to tear her eyes away from the precious photo, Alex rooted through the box, shifting envelopes with a thin scrawl she knew to be her mother's handwriting. At the very bottom she found her birth certificate in a thin, transparent plastic sheaf.

In a neat print was Alex's birth name.

Ahusaka Kaya Locklear-Oliveira

Locklear. That was her father's last name. That was her last name. Ahusaka was Alex's first name. Alex placed everything back into the box, trying to make it as neat it as neat and organized. She hid her birth certificate at the very bottom, as trying to erase the discovery from her mind. The only thing she kept out of the box was the photo she had found. That she had slipped into her back pocket, careful to not fold or crease it. She shoved the case unceremoniously under the bed, as deep as she could. Alex never wanted to set eyes on it again. She had thought finding out about her Da would solve at least some of her problems, but it had just created even more. Alex was in the middle of an identity crisis, and the deep rift between her and her mother had only widened. The teenager wasn't sure who she was anymore. Was she Alex or Ahusaka? Was she a Locklear or a Oliveira? Native American or Brazilian? Shoving those thoughts and doubts away into the back of her mind, Alex made her way down to the kitchen and found her mother had moved to the ratty armchair in the living room.

Ma was staring at the blank wall across from her lost in thought. Alex, not wanting to disturb her brooding mother, crept silently to the kitchen where the bowl still lay in shatters. This time, being more careful to not cut her feet again on the sharp shards, she picked her way through until she got to the middle, where her mother had knelt, not long ago. Still there, was the large piece with the circling hawk. Alex bent down and slipped in on her pocket with the photo. Then, grabbing a broom she swept the rest of the shards into a black plastic dustpan and dumped them into the trash can. Alex was exhausted and just wanted to get some sleep. She yawned as she slowly made her way up the stairs to her room. Some sleep might do her some good, calm the raging storm in her mind.

A/N: Aaaand there we go! Thank you so much for clicking on this little story. I have big plans for future chapters, and you won't want to miss out! If you find any errors in my writing feel free to speak up and tell me, and it you have any constructive criticism go ahead. Reviews are always welcome, and practically begged for.

Until next time,

-Chaos