A/N: Just as a quick aside, I am no longer working on this version of the story. However, I did write 8 chapters for this a few years ago, so I'm posting them all now

There's nothing quite like waking up to your best friend screaming at you.

"Get up, you useless piece of shit!" I groaned, was it really that time already? "Are you kidding me? Is THAT really all you can do? You're pathetic!" I reached over and grabbed my phone, switching off my alarm. Yes, my alarm was a compilation of Sunny's greatest motivational quotes, recorded during our many training sessions together. I finally opened my eyes as I rolled over completely. Huh, it was 6:45 am… Monday morning. God damn it, I slept through Sunday, again.

I laid there for a few minutes, trying to come back to my body after such an intense sleep. Cautiously I began to sit up, when pain exploded from my chest. Regret instantly flooded me. Although I'd sort of expecting it, it was honestly a lot more agonizing than I had anticipated. After getting upright through sheer force of will, I gingerly began to feel around my body. Nothing really felt broken, just insanely sore, aside from the dull throbbing ache in my left wrist. It was then I realized, I was still in full combat gear. Whoops. Honestly, this was a common occurrence. The black and dark red stains on my once white pillow case and sheets could attest to that. I washed them regularly, but blood and hair dye have a nasty habit of never coming out completely. Carefully, I scooted my way down to the end of the bed, and grabbed onto the lid of the large black trunk that was located at the foot of the bed. It was a tacky, slightly cheap affair, with thin plywood walls and peeling paint, but it had a strong lock, and that was all that mattered to me. I reached into the neck of my body suit and removed the small key that was attached to the black and purple choker necklace I constantly wore. I reached over the trunk and twisted the key in the lock on the front. The lid popped open slightly, giving me a small grip so I could swing the lid open. It was mostly empty except for the spare parts that littered the bottom. Some were perfectly functional replacement parts, others were mangled beyond repair, held onto for one reason or another. Slowly, I began to strip off my gear, placing it neatly into the trunk. The last thing to come off was my running leg, which I promptly switched out for the more standard, everyday model I kept leaning up against the head of my bed. All my equipment stowed away, I closed the lid of the trunk and locked it up. I may never have anyone over, but it pays to be careful.

I grabbed the bed post, pulling myself into a standing position and headed for the bathroom. I turned on the water in the shower to let it heat up as I examined myself in the mirror. Large purple and blue blotches covered my lower chest and sides. They mixed well with the dark brown scars that covered my lower back, stomach, and thighs. My gaze returned to my face as I noticed a couple of blemishes that had cropped up around where my goggles usually sat and trapped sweat and dirt against my face. Honestly, with how much I wear those things, it's a wonder my whole face isn't a mess. Unfortunately, the paleness of my skin helped to accentuate any imperfections, including the ever present dark crescent shapes bellow my dark grey eyes. Dad used to say I got Mom's eyes, but his gaze. Sometimes, I think he was right, he was always kind of intense.

The slight coat of steam on the mirror reminded me that the water I had let run had reached an acceptable temperature. I reached up and removed the hair tie that held my high pony tail in place. For a few seconds, the world was obscured by a curtain of black hair with faded streaks of sky blue as my voluminous hair dropped down to its full waist length. I'd stopped cutting it my first year of college. When I was in high school, it only used to reach a little past my shoulders, but I had kind of stopped caring about keeping that up when those four years ended. I pulled off my sports bra and the dull pain in my chest lessened somewhat. Too bad I can't walk around without a bra today, which would really help the bruising. Bigger boobs are not nearly as fun as society makes them out to be. I kicked off the rest of my underwear and held onto the sink as I removed my leg. I hopped into the shower, the water swirling around the drain immediately turning black as the hair dye began to rinse itself out.

After about 15 minutes of rigorous shampooing, my hair was finally back to its former sky blue glory. At this point, the water had begun to lose its warmth because my landlord is insanely cheap and bought a tiny water heater for a 3 story apartment building. I quickly washed the rest of my body, shut off the water and hopped out. Gingerly wrapping a towel around my chest, I began the arduous process of drying all that damn hair. 20 minutes and one very over worked blow dryer later, my hair was as close to being dry as it was going to get in a humid cramped bathroom. I wiped the mirror off and grabbed my choker off the sink. It was one of the few possessions I cared what happened to. It had been my Mom's and aside from the stud earrings I occasionally wore, it was the closest thing to jewelry I'd ever wear.

I finished tying it around my neck and grabbed an industrial sized tube of burn ointment that I had bought back when I was first learning how to use a soldering iron. It had since because an essential to treat the various electrical burns that came from my gauntlets. I rubbed a liberal amount into my forearm, then wrapped it up with some gauze and medical tape. My leg was the last thing to be put back on, the metal slightly warm from the hot and humid air of the bathroom.

Stepping back into my room, I was immediately assaulted by another, simpler siren alarm screeching from my phone on the bed. Shit, I only had about a half hour until class. I twisted in place, using my foot to open up my top dresser drawer to grab appropriate underwear while I bent the other way to grab a pair of shorts off the ground, ignoring the agony this put my muscles in. I don't like avoiding pain. I've always believed that enough pain will always make you stronger. I donned my captures, feeling the fabric of the shorts brushing against my knees as I walked over to my closet for a shirt. Yeah that's right, you heard me, knees. A couple of years ago I got fed up with the useless as excuses the women's department had for leg wear, so I just started buying all of my shorts and pants from the men's department instead. One of the better choices I've made since starting college if you ask me. People giving you strange looks is a very small price to pay if it means I get real pockets and pants I can actually move in. Most of what I wear had to accommodate my leg anyways.

I snagged a long sleeve shirt out of my closet, since fall just started and it was actually starting to feel like it outside. It was a dark blue affair, with sleeves designed to look like they were woven together out of strips of cloth. I finished off the ensemble with a dark purple short sleeve button down, which I chose to leave open. Grabbing my backpack, I threw on a pair of black combat boots, my favorite ones with the purple laces and sprinted out the door. Well, as well as you can sprint with a prosthetic leg.

Even though I lived on the third floor, I rarely ever took the elevator. The people who live in my building are a little strange, so I avoid it at all costs. So to compensate, I've managed to figure out how to slide down the safety railing that cuts through the center of the unpainted concrete staircase. It took me a couple of weeks to figure out, and it essentially involves me using a skateboard deck I keep stashed in the cabinet at the top of the stairs that's supposed to have a fire extinguisher in it to grind my way down the railing. No one ever takes the stairs in my building, so I've actually been able to beat the elevator before.

In a hurry, I snagged the board from its hiding place, and immediately vaulted the first few steps and started my descent. Now normally I yell down just to make sure no one's coming, but since I was rushing, the thought never actually occurred to me. So of course, half way down, I plowed straight though someone running up the stairs.

"Fuuuuuuck!" I screamed as I proceeded to fly down the next set of stairs and straight into a wall. The good news was, I didn't hit it head on. The bad news was, I hit it flat, in perfect belly flop formation. This did not help the current pain I had already been feeling from last night. I laid there for a few seconds, trying to figure out if all this was really worth it for an 8:00 am lab.

"Hey, uh, are you ok?" A woman's voice questioned above me. I turned to face her, and my jaw dropped slightly. Now, I'm not sure if it was because she had leaned down right in the way of a florescent light, or because of the intense pain, but she seemed to be glowing. Like, actually glowing.

She was a few inches shorter than me, with an average build. Her wavy blonde hair framed her face nicely and dropped past her shoulders, dangling in front of her face due to the slight angle she was at. Her skin was a light caramel color, and she had a small collection of black heads on her nose and by her jawline. Judging by her features, I would have guessed that she was South Korean. Her dark brown eyes were wide with concern as she stared down at me, her lips still parted slightly from speaking. In short, she was one of the most beautiful girls I had ever seen. And for some reason, she seemed insanely familiar. Did I know her? Probably not. I could count the number of significant people in my life on two hands.

"I.. uh… I'm sorry!" I stuttered at her, popping up into a sitting position. What was wrong with me? Did I hit my head? Was this because of the pain? My left hand fumbled frantically for my fallen skateboard deck, grasping at only empty air.

"Looking for this?" She asked, with a slight smile as she held up my board. I nodded dumbly. She dropped it into my lap. "And don't worry about it, I barely felt a thing." She winked as she said it, like we were sharing some kind of secret joke. Was this girl for real? I plowed straight through her. She offered me her hand, which I tentatively grabbed. She pulled me up effortlessly as she stood up. She was way stronger than she looked. I glanced up and down her body, wondering how she hid that kind of strength. I'm not a light person, all the strength training I've done had helped see to that.

"You live here right?" She asked, now that we were both in a standing position. Once again, all I could do was nod as I noticed I was standing way too close to her. Like, "most people would be uncomfortable" close. I certainly was. "I just moved in," She held out her hand to shake. "Catharine Cho, apartment 308." I managed smiled slightly. So that's who moved into the apartment at the end of the hall. It had been empty for a few months, ever since the last couple had been evicted for trying to sell weed out of their kitchen. I know as Night Hawk I probably should have stopped them, but honestly they weren't hurting anyone and it never really affected me.

"I'm Aimee. I'm in apartment 315." I manage to get out, in a faint, slightly monotone voice. I was starting to come back to my senses a little bit. I just had to keep it under control.

"We should hang out sometime! I'd love to get to know some of my neighbors," She said, with a wide smile that made my cheeks feel warm. I hoped she didn't notice. Not trusting myself to speak, all I could do was nod. She glanced at the backpack that I had still slung over my shoulder. "Well, I don't want to keep you, but it was nice to meet you Aimee," She gave a little waive as she departed up the staircase once again. "See you soon!"

I leaned against the railing as soon as she was out of sight. What the hell was that? How could she have had such an impact on me? I mean, she was pretty, but there was definitely something about her presence that made me seem… happy? It had been a long time since I'd felt the emotion, and it felt foreign, like finding thumbtacks in your cornflakes. And she seemed so familiar. I needed a moment to process.

Unfortunately, I didn't get one because my cellphone rang. I pulled out my antiquated flip phone and checked the screen. As it happened, I only had two numbers stored in there. Sunny's was the first, while the second was displayed in bold letters while the cheery jingle that had come pre-installed on the phone echoed through the concrete stairwell. I sighed as I flipped open the phone and held it to my ear.

"What is it now Matt?" I asked, bracing myself for the question I knew I was about to receive.

"WHAT IN THE HELL DID YOU SPEND $2,000 ON?!" A male voice shrieked from the other end of the phone. I pulled it away from my face sharply to avoid any serious hearing damage.

"Uh, new furniture," I lied. I'm not even sure if what I owned counted as furniture, most of it was salvaged from stuff the college threw away. It may have been a little weird, but it was pretty cool to have a lab table as my kitchen table. Made working on labs at home much easier. I should probably explain just who in the hell Matt is, or why I even have $2,000 to spend on "furniture".

I don't remember much about the day itself, but I remember we were taking the train into the city, my parents and I. My father was a lawyer at a big firm, he was actually a partner. He mainly dealt with corporations handing stuff like copyright issues and patent laws. It had actually been how he'd met my mom, who was working as a graphic designer at the time from the marketing division of a major clothing retailer. Anyways, Dad had gotten called into the city on a Saturday to help deal with a particularly difficult client. Mom and I went with him, and we were supposed to have lunch afterwards together. I remember the train car we were in was empty, because I kept running up and down it for lack of anything better to do. Then there was an intense flash, a brilliant white light, and a huge explosion. I vaguely remember waking up in a hospital sometime after, missing my left leg just below the knee, and being told that neither of my parents made it out alive. I was 14.

Apparently there had been some kind of electrical malfunction, and it had caused a huge overload that ripped our entire car apart. So naturally, my father's firm took them to court. The lawyer leading the case was my dad's best friend, Mathew Lee, respected lawyer who specialized in settlement cases. He had a gift for commanding the courtroom and his specialty was getting the jury to side with him completely. It had actually been pretty easy, all he had to do was wheel me out, literally. I was stuck in a wheel chair at this point, and he knew he'd be able to ask for whatever he wanted. My memories from the time are still pretty fuzzy, but I remember we won a pretty big settlement. I still don't know how big, but I knew it was enough for me to live off of until I died. Of course, that never stopped me from living a relatively simple life. Small apartment, no car, mid-level college, basic cell phone. Honestly, my two biggest expenses were food, I was constantly hungry and all the workouts didn't help, and being Night Hawk. The latter of which tended to rack up some pretty big charges, which of course constantly alarmed Matt, who I'd put in charge of my finances. Fortunately, he trusted me completely, which meant he was very easy to lie to.

"You bought new furniture last month," He replied bluntly. Ok, maybe he was a little smarter than I thought.

"Yeah, well maybe I decided I didn't like the colors. Or maybe I accidently tried to surf a couch down a staircase in the science building. Either way, it's not a big deal." That second one was partially true, only it had been a love seat that James and Sunny had just bought that Sunny secretly hated. Honestly, I don't know what James was thinking, that thing was so poorly made it barely made it the four flights of stairs down to the lobby.

"You're impossible, you know that? Just like your dad, only he used to use tables instead," I laughed in response, I had fond memories of the table races at Dad's office complex. Or at least, I thought I did. Honestly, most of the memories before age 14 were pretty hard to grasp. There were some notable exceptions of course, key memories, but we'll get to that later.

"So, are we all good here?" I asked, hoping he'd just drop it. I could hear him sigh on the other end of the line.

"Yeah, we're good. Just… don't do it again." I smiled slightly, I could practically hear his nervous sweat. For such a high powered attorney, I found it remarkably easy to push his buttons.

"You know full well I can't promise that," I said, putting on my sweetest tone of voice. "See ya later," I heard him start to yell again as I cut the call, laughing to myself a little. Sure, it may have been a little mean, but he'd be fine. You're probably wondering what I needed $2,000 for, right? Well, it's a secret to everyone of course. I slipped my phone back in my pocket as I resumed my descent down the stairs. I had a feeling today was going to be a good day.