A/N:Just some story I decided to run with it... I'm unsure whether to continue or not, so I guess reviews will sway my decision either way.

AOA is so much fun...enjoy.

I don't own Marvel...well neither does Stan Lee now. Way to be enslaved by the Mouse, Stan.

Forgiveness is an action; something that separates a strong person from the crowds of weaklings. You need courage and strength to forgive someone, especially when you know they don't deserve it. It is a rather proficient quality to have.

But, in my most humble opinion, it is certainly not a suitable name. If my dearest late mother had wanted me to be named after a virtue she could have picked something a little less ridiculous; such as Hope or Joy. Oh, it's not like I care terribly, a name is just a tag used by others as a solution to identifying their peers.

Whether I have a name or not matters little in this world anyways, as long as I keep on my toes and sustain my basic needs, I will survive. And that means something, if only to myself.

All I wanted at the moment was for this little brat that I was holding to quit crying. I found him whimpering and crying crocodile tears on Woodward, or what used to be Woodward. He must have wandered off from his community, his folks and the whole lot of them must be searching for him. He cried even harder when he saw me, even when I spoke in my most quiet, soothing voice. He must have been told about the Shadow Beast, and what she did to innocent children.

"It's okay kid, I'm going to help you find your family," I cooed , hoping he would calm down a bit before I carried him over to the shadows, but instead he started screaming bloody murder. I covered his mouth before pulling him in with me.

His screams echoed through the shadow world, causing my oh-so-sensitive ears to pound. I seriously debated taping his annoying chasm shut, but I managed to get him to quiet down by humming.

It was dark on earth, so traveling by shadow was easy, much easier than taking care of this kid. I carried the kid down Woodward, trying to see the chalky outlines of his community. In the distance, I could make out a large fire. It appeared as a brilliant white, flowing blob, the world of darkness moved around it, always keeping its distance from sources of light. As we neared the white hot figures of humans were seen moving about the fire, this had to be the child's community.

Slowly, I approached a line where the shadow world touched the light of the fire, holding the boy at arm's length, I slowly pushed him through the veil, his screams now entering his world and leaving my own, bringing back the bliss silence. He was in their hands now; I knew he would be taken care of.

I walked away before the community came rushing to the boy's aid.

I followed the path that was once known as Woodward Avenue, the remains of the city of Detroit surrounded me. It hadn't been a city for a long time, thirty seven years in fact, way longer than I have been alive, back when this land mass was the United States, before Apocalypse had taken over…. But even his reign ended when I was just a kid.

Now, it's just every man for himself.

My home is about seventeen miles from the city, but I reached it in a matter of minutes, traveling by shadow tends to get me places quite fast.

Home for me is the basement of a decaying house, one with a caved in roof and no glass occupying the windows, but it is secluded and cozy, just the way I like it.

In the comfort of my own home I remove myself from the shadows and crash on my futon. The sun would be coming up soon, and that was enough incentive to send me to bed.