A/N: Thank you so much for all of the love you guys. I swear, you guys rock. This story is just about to round the final stretch here. I'm a little sad that it's about to be over. I'll probably make a sequel to it, so you guys might want to keep checking back to my page. I'm going to start posting a new idea for a story I had, but maybe I'll do a sequel for this at the same time. I don't know, it depends on the feedback. I really love my next story though, and I think you guys are gonna love it too.

"I didn't think you normally cried," a man's voice said from a corner. Sam jumped and tried to turn her head, but she could not see him from this angle. How long had he been there? "What's the matter, Sammy? Don't tell me you've gotten soft."

"Who are you," Sam managed to choke out. Her voice sounded terrible, like she had a sore throat. She wanted the words to come out angry and demanding, but they sounded lame and fearful even to her own ears.

"I don't think that's very important, do you? I'm more concerned about who you are," the voice responded. His words would have sent shivers up Sam's spine if she allowed them too. As it was, her whole body was rigid, trying to keep from moving to minimize the pain.

"And do you know who I am," Sam asked him. She had meant to make it a threat, to warn him of how dangerous she was and that he did not want to mess with her, but after she asked it she suddenly decided she didn't want to know the answer.

"Oh, I know perfectly well," the voice responded. You could almost hear the cold smile in it. "Samantha Rose Harper, 18 years old, am I correct? You have a special way of regenerating your body, and you can teleport as well. Until recently you spent your free time as a vigilante helping others, but now you've joined the Avengers Initiative. Oh, and you seem particularly attached to Captain America, better known as Captain Steve Rogers. Need I go on?"

"Why me," Sam asked through her frozen state. "Why are you targeting me?"

"Have you really forgotten me, Samantha," the voice asked.

"I don't know what you mean," she said as she started to shake her head, then winced from the pain. "We've never met before."

"Granted, you were only a child at the time, but the procedure wasn't much perfected at the time, I would have thought you had some lasting memory," the voice mused. "I believe you were about seven. Do you remember your trip to the Yellowstone Park?"

Yes, Sam did remember. It was the last family vacation they ever took. It was the time she got lost in the woods for two days. They had been staying at a campground on their way back from the national park when Sam had wandered away to chase lightning bugs. She spent two days wandering the forest before a ranger had found her.

"What about it," Sam asked with narrowed eyes. She didn't want to hear him speak; she wanted to put a few bullets in him as well, and then see how he fared strapped to a metal table for hours.

The man chuckled. "They say that the mind can learn to forget things it doesn't want to cope with. Do you really believe you were simply lost in the woods? Where do you think you got your powers from?"

Sam took a deep breath, then bit her lip at the pain it caused her side. The man chuckled again. It was an unnerving sound, and she decided she never wanted to hear it again.

"Trying so hard to not move, aren't you? I wonder," he said as he walked around into Sam's field of vision. He was an older man, probably in his fifties, and had salt and pepper hair. He reminded her of a college professor. She couldn't absorb much else though, as he grabbed her right leg and twisted it as much as the restraint would allow.

Sam couldn't hold back the cry that tore out of her throat. The pain caused stars to pop into her field of vision, and she was momentarily blinded. Her hands clawed at the table beneath her. In that moment pain was the only thing she registered. She felt herself losing the will to stay alert, and black spots started to cover up the stars until her field of vision was completely dark.

"Not so fast," she heard a voice say. It was distant, like it came from across the room. Sam couldn't focus on it; she wanted to go to the darkness, it seemed like there wouldn't be pain there. Then she felt a hand grab her jaw and jut it upwards. Her eyes flickered open, but she couldn't remember shutting them. "You were asleep so long, I hope you'll humor me and stay awake a little while more. I suppose it may be my fault. Those bullets were special, developed them myself. They were laced with an antiserum of sorts, to counteract your powers. Not enough to extinguish them, but enough to keep you weak."

Sam tried to make some noise, form some word, but nothing came out. The man's cold grey eyes stared down at her as he watched her pathetic attempts.

"Too tired to talk? Its okay, you can listen. I am more than happy to talk for you," the man said. "Did you really think that you just woke up one day and suddenly gained your abilities? I know you were a child then, but you never looked back and wondered? You aren't a hero; you're a science experiment. I created a serum, something that would revolutionize the world. I know what you're thinking, but no, it's not as pathetic as the super soldier serum of your beloved Captain," he tacked the words on with disdain.

"No, I did something much better. I call it Project Silver. The serum awakens a part within your mind that you never knew existed. It can unlock the hidden talents one may possess. You were selected, out of many other possible candidates, from a blood sample that was taken when you received your shots. I decided you had the potential to become much more, so I chose you. It was better, in a way, to choose someone so young. There was so much more time for it to take effect, for it to change you," he paused in his speech and stared off at the wall, probably for nostalgic purposes.

"After the second day you had escaped. Imagine that, a little seven year old girl out fooling all of my guards, escaping the maze of hallways. I could have taken you back then, but I was curious. So I grabbed you again, tempered with your memories, and sent you along your way back to your family. Then I waited, and I watched, and what a fine experiment you have turned out to be," he finished.

The room was still as Sam absorbed all of this information and attempted to process it all. "So what next," she finally asked. The words felt brave; she had no clue what would happen, what he would decide.

She had never really contemplated her mortality. Sure, she went on dangerous missions, but she could heal. Death was never a big threat to her, until now. Suddenly she saw what it meant, to be close to the end. She wondered if her life would be over in a matter of hours. The thing Sam regretted the most was not telling anyone where she went. The idea of someone coming to her rescue would have been a fantasy, but she just wished she could have told someone goodbye. It felt so cold to leave without telling someone she loved them, and hearing it in return.

"What next," the voice echoed. "Now that is for you to decide."

"In that case, let me go. You've had your fun," Sam said.

The man let out a breathy laughter. "Please try to not be so dimwitted Samantha, it suits you so ill. I have no intentions of letting you out of my grasp again. I merely meant that now is your turn to make a decision. You can choose to stay here willingly and help me, or it can be done the hard way."

"Help you with what," Sam asked. She knew where this was going, and it was a very bad road. She would stall for as long as she could, but Sam knew there was no happy ending ahead for her.

"I have other projects I must test, and of course it wouldn't be so bad to have someone as my right hand. I mean to claim this world as my own, and eventually I shall," the man said with his back to her. "I suggest you decide to join me now; you won't like it very much if you resist."

Sam remained quiet for a very long time. Let him think she was debating it. She had no intention of ever joining him, of that she was sure. If that choice meant death, it was the debt she must pay. She would not let herself be used as a weapon for their own selfish ends.

"Well," the man said as he turned back around to her.

Sam paused for a moment still. She wet her cracked lips before speaking, "my whole life I have spent protecting those around me. You think you are a great visionary, don't you? That you will be some sort of beacon lighting the way? I've seen men like you before. You have some power, and you try to use it to get more. It's never enough. I could so easily see your point of view, or be swayed to join you."

"At moments like this, when there's no hope, morals start to slip away, and the entire world turns grey. When it becomes impossible to tell right from wrong, that's when I'll remember this moment. I'll remember what it is, to sacrifice morals. I'll remember your face. I'll remember the day I was strong enough to tell right and wrong, and to say no. I'll remember your face, and never be like you," Sam words were barely above a whisper, but they were firm. There was resolve in her voice.

"Do you find the idea of being me that repugnant," he questioned.

"Don't you," Sam asked.

He grabbed her leg and twisted more painfully this time. She was braced for the pain, but couldn't help the scream that came out. There was a sneer on his face, and his laughter was cruel.

"In time, I think you will join me," he said as he twisted again.