From now on, with a few exceptions, the story will be in Amelia's POV.

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I watch as Alfred fades away, and then the world fades to black around me. My entire body goes numb, and I can't see anything. A few minutes pass without any change, but soon enough the black begins to brighten up. My eyes slide closed, and when they open again, I'm lying in a field at the edge of a forest.

My fingers twitch slightly, and the rest of my body feels like pins and needles. I sit up, with much difficulty, and someone yells at me. My blue and red eyes scan the area for the person yelling, and soon they run up to me.

"Are you okay, kid?" the person ask worriedly.

"I think so. Where am I?" My voice cracks, and my throat is raw and scratchy.

"Just outside of D.C. Where are you from?" I ignore the man, who looks really familiar, and stand up on shaking legs. The guy snags my arm at my attempt to walk away, telling me to slow down.

"I need to get to the White House. I need to talk to the president." Determination can clearly be heard in my voice, and the guy's face softens.

"Okay. I'll take you there after you tell me your name." the guy says gently.

"Amelia. Amelia Jones."

"Okay, Ms. Jones. Let's go." I can practically feel his sadness as he smiles at me.

We walk for a while, and soon the city comes into view. A lot of people smile kindly at me as we trudge down the crowded streets, and I wave back shyly. My tiny hand slips into my escort's larger one, and he smiles softly. He doesn't ask me any more questions, but he talks endlessly about the town and his life.

He sounds kinda like Alfred. Wait, who? Why did that name pop into my head?

"Okay, we're here. Just up the road is the gates. Do you want me to stay with you?" he asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

"I'll be fine, but thanks for offering. I wish I could give you something for helping me." The guy laughs lightly, patting me on the head.

"That isn't necessary, Ms. Jones. It was my pleasure. Just be careful, okay? There's a lot of bad people walking around." A bright smile lights up my face, and I wrap my arms around his legs in a tight hug.

"Got it." I wave as he watches me march away, and thoughts of a strange blond guy flit about in my brain.

The guards at the gate stop me, asking me for something called 'identification'. After several minutes of arguing, one of them radios another agent, talking in code. It takes several minutes, but the other agent makes his way to the gate. He looks at me, and his brown eyes go wide. The agent opens the gate enough for me to slip through, and he grabs my wrist and leads me across the grass and into the White House. His hold is tight enough that I can't slip away, but loose enough to not hurt.

How nice of him.

Many people watch us with wide eyes, and for some reason it makes me nervous. The agent drags me down many hallways, never loosening his grip on my small wrist. We walk up to a huge wooden door and my captor raps on it twice. A tired voice tells us to enter, and the door opens with a loud creak. A lady sitting behind a large desk looks at us, and her tired eyes go wide when she sees me.

"Where did you find her?!" the lady asks, standing up suddenly.

"She was at the gate. Before that, I don't know where she was."

"Well at least we found her," the lady says as she walks over to us, smiling at me. "What's your name, sweetie?" Her tone is soft, and she kneels down in front of me.

"Amelia Jones, and I'm gonna be a hero!" I say proudly, placing my hands on my hips. Both the people in the room laugh, and I smile.

"Well, I'm going to get back to my shift. Don't work too hard, Madam." The agent bows his head before turning and walking out. I climb onto a chair in front of the large desk, using it as a step stool to sit on the desk. My feet swing happily, a smile glued to my face.

"So where were you?"

"In a field. Before that, I was talking to this totally awesome dude. He told me some pretty amazing stories." A thought rushes through my head, and I realize something. "He didn't call it a story though, he called it something else. A history? Yeah, that was it. He called it a history." The lady looks at me with a slightly sad expression, and it confuses me.

Why is she sad? Wasn't she happy a few seconds ago? Did I say something wrong?

Tears gather is my eyes, and the lady flinches. I wipe them away, and then smile back at her.

"Well, I think that we need to-" The door bangs open and interrupts her.

"WHERE IS SHE?!" a guy with purple eyes demands.