A Hard Day's Work

2014

New York City, Brooklyn

The day had only just begun, and Reign Mazarine already felt winded. The fast-paced atmosphere of New York City was not for the faint of heart and she constantly felt behind time. She liked to accuse late-night television for keeping her up, but that was misplaced blame. Truthfully, she felt agitated, as if in a moment of uncertainty everything she fought so hard to keep buried would crash down in a suffocating weight.

She felt this tension as she scrambled through the back door of her workplace and into the empty employee lounge. The Quarts clock mounted on the wall was only a few minutes away from striking 8 o'clock, the start of her shift.

It was a small lounge, one with a simple, outdated kitchenette that held a round table in the center. In the corner the flat-screen played the news -nobody ever paid attention to it- and off to the side stood a door that leads to a similarly outdated two-person bathroom. It wasn't much, but it was comfortable enough that Reign didn't feel smothered.

With haste, she entered the grungy white tiled bathroom and stood in front of the sink. Reaching forward she turned on the faucet to wet her hands and pulled her long dark hair up into a ponytail. It was high and tight and would surely give her a headache by the end of the day.

Reign adjusted her blue blazer and stole a moment to stare at her reflection. She could be pretty, she supposed, if not for her placid pale skin and the deep bags resting under her eyes. Truthfully, it was her eyes she felt most confident with. Laid with silver and flecked with blue, they could all but sparkle in the right lighting. Not that she'd ever given a man the chance to notice her or her eyes. It was clear to say she wasn't a typical nineteen-year-old.

She heaved a heavy sigh and walked back into the lounge where she poured herself a large mug of bitter coffee. Two-minutes left, she thought as she swallowed the contents in a few swift gulps. It was unfortunate they were no longer allowed beverages in their stations, meaning her breaks were strictly dedicated to getting a caffeine buzz.

One-minute left. Reign clipped on her name badge, walked out of the lounge and into her small computer station where she worked as a DMV Clerk. All day long, six days a week she renewed Drivers License's and took pictures of strangers who, often, thought they were entitled to excellent customer service while offering rude commentary themselves. It was a vicious cycle of bad attitude with zero winners in the end. Reign tried to keep a smile through the day, but as anyone would guess a forever friendly demeanor is not always a simple task.

As per-usual, Reign had skipped breakfast and the Slim Jim's she kept hidden under her desk were horribly tempting. Just get through until lunch, she thought as she ignored her gnawing stomach and called the next number that flashed on her screen.

Customer after customer, annoying flirtation after flirtation, she felt the day drag on forever. Many people in the area didn't understand decent hygiene or common courtesy. Was it so wrong for Reign to want to keep to herself after a long day of dealing with bad-mannered people? No, she was sure it wasn't

Reign called another number, having already lost hope that her shift would improve. Although, she'd been wrong before, and she was suddenly very glad she was wrong. He took a seat across from her and the moment he did her heart dropped. He had to be a simple look alike, right? Of course, it wasn't actually...her thought paused as he slid his ID across the counter. The name on the card read Steven G. Rogers and his date of birth, 1918.

Swallowing to regain her voice she offered a smile "We don't see this date very often."

His lips curved into a charming crooked smile, his eyes a calming blue. "I guess you could say I'm a special case."

"Incredibly special..." she said immediately. Her smile fell as she realized how completely awkward that sounded "I mean..." she cleared her throat, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. "How may I help you?"

"I would like a Driver's License," he answered politely, eyes studying her for a long moment. She suddenly desperately hoped she didn't have leftover toothpaste clinging to the corner of her mouth from this morning. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to make you uncomfortable," he adjusted his seating position, "You just seem somewhat young to be working here."

Reign felt relief, at least that was something she could answer, considering the topic been brought up every day for a little over a year now. "I was able to apply at eighteen," she said with a nod, opening her filing drawer from underneath and pulled out three sheets of paper "I need you to fill out this information, please."

"Absolutely," he said as he drummed his fingers against the counter and picked up a pen from her holder. He didn't seem agitated, but while her gaze was set on the screen she could feel his eyes shift up from the paper to glimpse her. "I don't mean to pry. I think it's great. It's nice to see someone younger take on this kind of role. Working for the government, I mean."

She cast a sideways glance at him, biting her lip to refrain from smiling. "Alright, let me ask you something. Why would Steve Rogers need a license to drive? I mean, you should be able to do whatever you want, right?"

"I'm not above the law," he said, noting her name badge, "And besides, it's something relatively normal I can do, Reign...that's an interesting name. What does it mean?"

Nobody had ever asked her that before and she had to think for a moment before answering. "Uhm, I think it means to rule."

Steve flashed another horribly charming smile before returning to filling out the paperwork. All while he was busy, Reign felt safe enough to study him. Taking in his features and wondering just how deep those blue eyes were. Her eyes then drew to the black cap on his head.

"Does that hat actually keep people from recognizing you?" she asked before she could stop herself, but truly she didn't regret it, she was curious.

Another crooked smile "Mostly, but not always."

"Do you like it when you're noticed?"

Their eyes met, trapping her in his gaze "I've never really been one to want my own parade..."

"Oh, that's right," she said with a hint of playfulness, "You're not Tony Stark, are you?"

"No, I am not," he said with a light laugh and shook his head.

After his paperwork was in order and all signatures were signed, she went through the procedure. Asking him all mandatory questions and eventually snapped his picture. He even took a good drivers license picture, which was an obvious sign of perfection in her book.

"Your license will be mailed to you in eight to ten business days," Reign said, feeling slightly dismayed in the thought of him leaving. It wasn't every day she met someone like him. The kind of person she always looked up to but knew she could never become.

Steve offered another warm smile "It was nice meeting you, Reign..." he said, before turning to leave. She watched him walk away, glancing over his shoulder once more, before leaving the building.

Get on with the day, Reign. Focus. "Number 67" she called, trying to clear her thoughts. At least tonight she'd have something nice to dream about. "Number 67?" she asked again, looking around the barrier to see if anyone was walking up the line.

Just as she was leaning forward, someone sat down. He was a large man with a tall frame, broad shoulders, and a thick beard that hid a partial scar extending from his brow to what she assumed his chin. He was a frightening man, to Reign anyway. It wasn't necessarily his appearance that made her uneasy, it was the way he looked at her. As if she were a piece of meat on display at the butcher shop.

"How may I help you?" she asked, keeping her voice steady. There was no need to be afraid, she thought as she met his stare.

"Keep your hands above the desk and say nothing," the man said in a low, threatening voice that resembled a rumble of thunder.

Reign blinked, confused. She parted her lips to ask what he meant, but he simply shook his head, offered a wicked grin and placed his finger to his lips. "Shh," he murmured, glancing around the room at the other clerks and customers, "We wouldn't want anyone to get hurt, would we?" his smile widened.

A cold sweat formed on the back of her neck and she could feel her fingers begin to tremble. To keep her hands above the desk meant she couldn't press for her call button to alert the authorities there was something going wrong. Dangerously wrong.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked, his eyes were as black as a coal and shifted like a snake's.

Reign shook her head.

"My name isn't important to you," he said, reaching into his coat pocket and withdrawing a strange object she didn't recognize, "This device identifies cerebral output waves along certain genetically common frequencies...in other words, it detects Mutants. Freaks. Abominations. Whatever term you prefer" his wolfish grin broadened.

Her blood ran cold as she eyed the device. It suddenly felt horribly hard to breathe, as if her chest might suddenly cave in under the pressure.

"Funny story," he continued, "I came in here with the intention of purchasing a title for my new boat, and this thing just starts going crazy," he gave a hearty laugh, "And I thought to myself...what luck."

"Please..." Reign began, she wasn't above begging for her life, especially at the hands of a man like this. She knew what she was, she lived with the weight of it every day, and every day she fought to see herself for something more than a Mutant. She had to be something more.

"Ah ah ah," he held up a meaty finger, "Remember the rule. No talking..." he leaned forward, his breath reeked of stale beer, "It's near noon and you're going to take your lunch break. We wouldn't want to make a fuss, would we? After all, there are children present..."

Closing her eyes, she knew what she had to do. Her life didn't have more value than the lives in this room. Her eyes opened again and caught sight of a mother with her two children by her side and one on the way.

"Log off" he demanded quietly.

Complying, she logged out of her computer and set her station closed sign on the counter, eyes refusing to leave him.

"Go to the break room and out the back door," he smirked, "And if I were you, I wouldn't risk something stupid." He finished before turning from her counter and casually walking toward the door, attention locked on her. She wouldn't have a chance to hit the silent buzzer.

Move, Reign ordered herself. Sometimes risks were worth taking. She strode back into the lounge, closed the door firmly behind her and began looking through the cabinets for anything she could use to defend herself. The only item suitable was a fork, fantastic.

She could at least leave her purse here, raise some suspicion as to where the owner might have gone. Although, she had a feeling it might not matter. Within 24 hours she'd likely be dead. She was running out of time, he'd be almost around the back entrance by now. In the chance of fight or flight, she knew where she might stand a micro of a chance.

Taking a quick breath of courage, and stuffing the fork to her waistband, she burst through the back door and took off in a dead sprint, unbuttoning her blazer as she went and abandoning it in the dirty alley. She was suddenly very grateful at her refusal to wear heels to work.

Left turn, right turn, left. She continued this pattern for a block and a half, thinking herself clever. She could do this, she could escape. That thought remained until she heard the roar of a motorcycle behind her. Slanting over her shoulder, she saw him, hunched over the handlebars with a murderous scowl on his features. He was gaining on her quickly and she didn't have another escape route set in mind.

She turned right down a random alley, her breathing wild, but that wasn't what made her heart stop. A dead end. She barely stopped in time to keep herself from smashing into the brick wall. She could feel the light of the motorcycle head beam on her back. Fight or flight, Reign. Fight or flight? Flight.

She hoisted herself up onto a commercial dumpster and jumped, grabbing hold of the emergency ladder that was readily bolted into the wall itself. Using as much strength she could gather, she climbed her way up the ladder and to the edge of the flat roof. Because that was such a wonderful place to escape. Brilliant, Reign, you're on a roof with a Mutant hunter behind you and all you have to defend yourself with is a fork.

Reign looked around, listening to the sound of the hunter scrambling onto the dumpster. Ahead was another roof roughly the same height but judging from the distance between she knew it was a jump she wouldn't make. So, the choice was this. Wait and let this man take her away God knows where or attempt a fatal jump. Or she could...Reign quickly shook her head to dismiss the thought. No, she swore she would never attempt it again.

"Nowhere to run," his booming voice made her chest cavity quiver, "You can come with me now or I can shoot you and get this over with."

Pursing her lips into a tight line she judged her options. Did it matter what she chose? Wouldn't both endings lead to her untimely death? Some Mutant she was, she couldn't protect herself even in the direst situation.

Unfortunately, she didn't have time to consider. Suddenly, his large calloused hands were on her shoulders, dragging her back across the roof, sending flying gravel in every direction. This time she screamed for help at the top of her lungs, but his hand quickly covered her mouth, silencing her.

It was a fight she wouldn't win, but she continued to thrash and pivot as he brought her from the roof and down the alleyway. She stopped fighting suddenly, feeling the nose of a pistol in the spine of her back. Hot tears of defeat streamed down her cheeks as they pursued further, approaching an inconspicuous Taxi Cab at the end of the alley.

The sight of her essential coffin sent a jolt of adrenaline through her aching body, and without another instant's hesitation, Reign removed the metal fork that had been hiding in her waistband and shifted, stabbing the thing into the side of his neck, putting as much force behind the blow as possible. She heard him yelp in pain and lurched forward, screaming as she did.

"Help!" she shrieked, and even louder a second time, "Help!"

The sound of a gun went off.

Reign's ears were suddenly ringing. She noticed the blood on her shirt before she felt the effects, but when she did the agonizing pain sent her to her knees where she then collapsed onto the pavement. Her damp cheek pressed against the grainy asphalt. She could feel herself being lifted. By air? No, it was him, the hunter, setting her in the trunk of the taxi. Before he closed the trunk, she could hear another voice echo in the near distance.

"Hey! Hey!" It shouted out in vile desperation. That voice, she knew that voice. All sound was cut off completely as the trunk slammed closed. She was met with the darkness of the inner cab, fighting for each breath before slipping into something much deeper. Something Reign wasn't sure she'd ever wake up from.