Disclaimer: I do not own the Captain America series or anything related to it. Faya Kline is my OC.

I am in love with a man with a metal arm.

He has no name. No memories. A mystery.

Sometimes he comes back and doesn't know who I am. But he always comes back. Always.

I started calling him Jace. It just seemed to fit him. After a while he started answering to it. Even when he forgot who I was, he recognized the name. I even took a few pictures of us together, to help him remember when he forgot.

I didn't love him at first sight, that's for sure. It took him showing up at my door ten times before I knew he would be around a lot, and I couldn't keep sending him away.

We met on a rainy night when I was walking home from work. I'd had to stay an extra shift at the diner that night because Erica never showed up. I was exhausted, cold, and because the rain was unexpected, I had no coat and was wet. I was nearly home when someone grabbed me from behind. Dragged me into an alley. Threw me onto the ground. I hit my head hard and for a moment I saw stars. The person, a guy, crawled on top of me. I punched and kicked, tried to scream, but he grabbed my head and smashed it against the hard pavement again. Somewhere in the fuzzy stars, I felt him pulling at the belt around my waist. Then I heard him cry out in alarm, and suddenly, so fast I didn't realize it at first, he wasn't on top of me anymore.

I sat up slowly, holding the back of my head. At least it wasn't bleeding. I saw the guy slumped against the far wall across from me. He wasn't moving. What happened? I looked around again and realized someone was standing just behind me. It was the first time I saw Jace.

He was leaning against the opposite wall, breathing heavily, holding an arm to his side. I got up slowly, swaying slightly as my head spun. He didn't move, and as lightning flashed I realized he was hurt badly from the red stains covering the side of his white shirt. I rushed over to help, but he shoved me back so quickly I nearly fell backwards.

I kept insisting on trying to help him. After all, he had saved me. I told him I went to school to be a nurse, excluding the part that I didn't finish because I couldn't afford it. I continued to demand he let me help him, telling him I'd call an ambulance if he didn't. Finally, he gave in. I realize later it was because he was under threat of being exposed. Jace had a mysterious occupation, one that demanded secrecy.

I lead him back to my house, a decent walk from the urban part of town. Beyond walking with a slight limp as he kept a hand firmly pressed over his wounded side, he made no complaints. In fact, he barely spoke. Once we were inside, I brought him to the bathroom and pulled out a well kept med kit.

"Take off your shirt." I demanded, pulling out the standard gauze pads, bandages, and I pulled out a hooked needle and thread for stitches.

He gave me a skeptical look, and then got quickly irritated.

"Out. I can do it myself." He growled.

I glared at him, he glared back. He gave me what would become the typical Jace scowl, his deep blue eyes promising something bad if I did not obey his commands. A look I would challenge constantly.

"Fine." I snapped, and as I walked out he slammed the door shut behind me. Rude.

I went upstairs, locking my bedroom door shut behind me. I quickly changed into a dry t-shirt and some sweats, and rubbed my wet hair with a towel. Once slightly more dry, I went downstairs just as he had seemed to finish up, as he opened the door and walked out.

"So... what happened to you?" I asked, tossing a clean towel to him.

He wiped at his face and hair quickly before putting it down over the back of a chair. He must have had to remove his leather jacket and shirt to fix whatever had happened, but both were back in place. Odd.

He looked around the room before his eyes locked onto me, and he shrugged.

"Bar fight. Guy broke a bottle and tried to cut me with it." He said bluntly.

"And succeeded." I added.

He actually smirked for a second, before the Jace scowl returned, and suddenly he was right in front of, violating any personal space I had. He reached out and touched the back of my head. I slapped his hand away, jerking away from him, scrambling back to gain some space between us. He stood completely still, and turned the hand to face me. There was blood on his fingertips.

"Shit." I cursed, feeling the back of my head.

I pulled my hand away and sure enough it was bleeding. Not a lot, as far as head wounds go. Definitely had a concussion. I sighed and walked past him, back into the bathroom. I pulled out another gauze pad from the box and held it against the spot that was bleeding. I noticed the mess he'd left behind. Seemed like a lot more than a slight cut from a bar fight, considering the amount of blood drenched gauze he'd left in the garbage.

"Are you sure you don't want me to look at that? It seems pretty bad." I said, walking back out into the hall just as he reached the front door. "Hey, where are you going?" I demanded, walking up to him.

"Home." He growled, seeming very irritated with the whole situation.

"It's pouring out and you have a bleeding wound. Seriously, just sit for a while, at least until it stops raining." I insisted.

The guy had saved me after all. He couldn't be that dangerous... could he? He seemed to consider the idea, for a moment. I leaned against the wall, feeling tired suddenly.

"Thanks for the help." He said dryly, and opened the door.

"Wait..." I said, tried to go after him.

Fell. Hard. Blacked out.

I woke up with one of the worst headaches I'd ever had. I groaned, and opened my eyes slightly. Shit, it was daytime. I sat up slowly, feeling nauseous as the room spun. I felt the back of my head and was confused by how cold it felt. I looked at my pillow and saw an ice pack wrapped in a rag. What the hell...

I remembered the stranger and got up quickly. Moving slowly, using the walls for balance, I checked the entire upstairs of my house. Then I went downstairs. I walked around slowly, with growing suspicion. Had he left? I finished my search and realized he had left, probably some time ago. I made my way into the kitchen and leaned against the fridge for a moment, taking a few deep breaths, closing my eyes for a moment.

I opened them and saw a glass of water and some aspirin sitting on the kitchen counter with a note.

Thanks.

I didn't see Jace again for another month.

Reviews please!