Note from the author:

This is my own take on a Marvel story, I DO NOT own Marvel Comics.

I own the story idea and the character, Amber Larson/Renegade.
My friend "SakuraSama101" owns the idea of Kari Sandler/Wonder Rah.

R and R, but be kind, please!!

Weapon X Files: Renegade

Chapter One: Introduction/The Ups and Downs of Life

When God closes...or more like slams a door in you face, does he really open another one for you? I haven't found anyone to help me answer that question yet.
My name is Amber Larson, I am nineteen years old and finally on my own. To tell you the truth, I'd rather be one of those nerds living in thier parents basement, playing Ratchet and Clank for the rest of my days. That would definatly be alot easier...I today am living in a small, one bedroom apartment with my roomate, Kari Sandler. We plan to sit around, watch CSI:Miami, drink Cola and play Ratchet and Clank for the rest of our days...That is, however, was not happening anytime soon.

Once we got the apartment, it came with a wonderful thing called "rent". Kari and I came up with an agreement...a gay agreement. I payed the rent and she'd pay the bills. Can't wait to see how this goes...
We got jobs. Kari landed herself a job selling CDs and all that at a Radio Shack. Me? I landed a nice job packing bags and stocking shelves at a small store downtown called, you guessed it Macs. I never aimed for a job like this, but I did because I've always loved different people. If that makes any sence...Who am I kidding? At time like this, I wish I never flunked/dropped out of high school!

One my first day, a got a nice, somewhat handsome mentor named Hakime. Hakime told me on our break that he came to New York all the way from Ethiopia to escape war. He told me how he loved it here and I told him how I hated it an wanted something better.

"Well, Amber." He told me in his accent. "Something better came along for me, it will come to you. Your "something better" may seem like a bad thing at first, but if you adapt to it, it can turn to your advantage!"

Then we had to get back to work.

Working at the retail store wasn't all that bad, I mean Hakime made the days great. However, now lets get to the negatory parts of my life. About a month into my job, I started to get these weird splotches on my back. I walked out into the living room to Kari. I didn't care that I was in my underwear, it was just us girls.

"Kari. What do you think this is?" I showed her the splotches.

She looked at the for a very long time and ran her fingers through her dark borwn hair in her thoughts, her deep thought. "I dunno." She fianlly said. "You should see a doctor about them."

"Let's not panic yet." I protested(stupid me), completely ignoring the concern in my best friends violet eyes(she wore contact lenses). "They don't hurt or anything...Maybe they'll go away later."

I walked back into the bathroom and looked at myself. I have been described as a beautiful person, but being me, I think I'm just normal. There is no ugly or beautiful. I have dark borwn hair, like Kari's, exept mine is cut to my neck in a rocker like fashion. I have deep brown eyes and tanned skin (me and Kari spend alot of time in the tanning salons). Kari and I usually wear black or blue and that's all I can say without going into deep detail.

After about another month, the splotches got worse and worse. I started to itch and hurt. Finally one day, Hakime had me sent home and I decided to take Kari's advice and go to the hospital. It was a long and annoying wait, but finally when I got in to see the doctor, he examined me very, very closely, and he wasn't even good looking, like most doctors...creepy.

After what felt like days, he came back with his clip board and told me: "Miss Larson, we have a theory of what is causing this spots on your back. However, we'd rather not discuss it with you until the test come back and we know for sure."

"Okay." I said, a bit confused, I'll admit. "When will the tests be back?"

"About a week." He answered.

After all that, I left the hospital with alot on my mind. Wouldn't you?
I went home and told Kari about what the doctor said and her reponce was that we can only hope for the best. It was eleven thirty at night, so Kari and I went to bed. No, we do not share a bed. Her single bed is on one side of the room and mine is on the other. There, now you know.

During a slow day at work after my weekend/excused-for-sickness-purposes break, I decided to read an article in the news paper. Something just caught my attention. It was an article that read on the front: Deadpool: Friend or Fiend?

"Hakime?" I called him over. "Who's Deadpool?"

"Ah, He is a mercenary." Hakime told me. "It's still mystery if he's good or pure evil. Some claim to have seen him move at the speed of light from one rooftop to another. Some claim to have seen him dodge bullets. Some claim to have seen him die."

I was very interested in all this. "Really? Wow. I'd hate to be in his cross hairs. I didn't know we had any mercs in town."
As I read farther and farther into the article(taking short breaks to service customers), I became more and more interested in this Deadpool character. How could a person like this exist? What is his modivation? What side IS he on? All these questions flowed through my head until it was time to go home.

I brought the news paper home, after buying it of corus.
By the time i got to the end of the article, the phone rang and Kari wasn't home yet to answer it. So, I got up to answer it myself. It was the doctor.

"Hello, Miss Larson." His voice said in the phone.

"Hello, doc." I said.

He sounded very upset. "You sound happy this evening."

"I'm very content."

"Oh well, this is very hard to say to you, Miss Larson."

"What? What's wrong, doctor?"

"This is the hardest part of my job." I heard him mutter. "Miss Larson. Your tests came back. You have Melanoma."

My heart stopped. "I have what?"

"Skin cancer." He simplifyed.

I was trying hard to keep myself from balling my eyes out right there. "How?"

"Most cancer forms are genetic. You most likely inherited it from a grandparent." There was a long pause. "I'm so sorry, Miss Larson." He said before hanging up the phone.

I didn't know what to do. As soon as Kari came home, I told her and we cried together.

The next day was the most depressing day at work I'd ever had. Next to the first ten minutes of my first day. That's not even nice. After watching for a couple hours, or atleast he said, Hakime finally asked me. "What's the matter, Amber?"

"It's kind of personal, Hakime." I said.

"I respect that." he replyed. "But are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

I paused for a while. "I just found out yesterday I have skin cancer." I muttered.

Hakime looked as if I shot him through the heart. "I am so sorry."

"Don't worry about me."

"Would you like the day off?"

"No, no. I've had enough vacations, thanks."

During our conversation, a middle aged man in a fancy shmancy suit walked up to the till. "Excuse me, miss..." He paused and looked at my name tag. "Amber. Very pretty name."

"Can I help you, sir?" I asked.

He leaned over the till and wispered to me: "I couldn't help overhearing...Did you say that you just found out you have skin cancer?"

I was abit humiliated. "Yes." I muttered.

The man cracked a small smile. "What would you say if I told you there was a procedure in which, if you volunteer, we can cure your skin cancer?"

I was thrilled. "You can do that?"

"Yes." The man said. "Come by this adress when you can." He wrote something on the back of a card.

After he handed me the card, I read the adress on the back and then looked at the front. I read the name out loud. "William Stryker?"

"Yes." The man said. "That's my name."

We shook hands.