The news has been talking about what Wanda did in Nigeria all night and all day. Mazzy feels really, really bad for Wanda. All she wanted to do was help, and now she has accidentally killed people. Mazzy can't imagine how that must feel.

In an effort to try and make Wanda feel a bit less alone during all of this, Mazzy has practically glued herself to Wanda's side since the Avengers returned to the compound. Right now, she's lying on Wanda's bed, preoccupied with a game on her DSI while Wanda sits at the end of the bed, her eyes glued to the TV. Mazzy can't get her to stop watching it, so she's decided to just be there for her while she inevitably stares at the television screen.

She's not doing a very good job at it now, though. She's a bit too preoccupied with her Nintendogs.

"What legal authority does an enhanced individual like Wanda Maximoff have to operate in Nigeria-?" The nasally-voiced newsman is interrupted by Steve, who is standing in the doorway with the remote in his hand, turning off the TV.

Wanda glances at Steve before turning back to stare into the now black TV screen. "It's my fault," she says quietly.

Mazzy looks up from her DS, saving the game. "That's not true," she says, shaking her head.

"It is," Wanda insists.

"Mazzy's right," Steve counters.

"Turn the TV back on. They're being very specific."

"News guys are lame-o's anyway, Wanda," Mazzy says, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. She knows all about people on the news talking about things they don't understand as if they understand it better than everyone else. It happens to her more often than she would like. "They never know the full story, and they don't even care that we're real human beings."

Steve nods in agreement, moving from the doorway to sit beside Wanda on the bed. "I should have clocked that bomb vest long before you had to deal with it," he says with a sympathetic look on his face. "Rumow said Bucky and... all of a sudden, I was a sixteen-year-old kid again, in Brooklyn. And people died."

Bucky. James Buchanan Barnes. One of Cap's old military pals. Captured and experimented on. The Winter Soldier.

Steve must have been a lot closer to Bucky than Mazzy thought, considering the fact that just hearing his name mentioned made him— Captain America— lose his focus and make an unfixable mistake. Maybe Steve's been the best person to ask questions to this whole time.

Mazzy rubs her face very roughly, trying to get those thoughts out of her head. This is about Wanda. Wanda needs to feel better. Not everything is all about Mazzy. She can think about Bucky later.

"It's on me," Steve says one more time, just to drive home the point.

Wanda looks at her hands. "It's on both of us," she compromises.

"This job..." Steve begins, slightly shaking his head as he stares at the ground. He swallows, deciding on what to say in his head. "We try to save as many people as we can. Sometimes that doesn't mean everybody. But if we can't find a way to live with that... then next time... maybe nobody gets saved."

While Steve and Wanda look at each other sympathetically, Mazzy's thoughts are once again brought back to her own problems, which is very selfish and annoying of her, she thinks. But she can't help but think about how much pressure it must be to be a Real Avenger. She's still stuck as a Not-Avenger, but everyone always acts like that's for the better. All the others seem to be able to deal with it, though. So can't Mazzy deal with it, too?

You can't save everybody. That's the gist of it, right? As long as she's not the one doing the killing, it can't be her fault, right?

And Wanda wasn't doing the killing. Rumlow was. So it can't be Wanda's fault. That's the fact of the matter, Mazzy decides.

"It's not your fault, Wanda," Mazzy says decidedly, just to drive home the point.

Before any response can be made, all three of them are slightly startled by Vision appearing through the wall without any warning. "Vis," Wanda says in a quiet, but irritated voice. "We talked about this."

"Yes, but the door was open so I assumed that..." Vision trails off, giving up on defending himself. He sighs and starts over. "Captain Rogers wished to know when Mr. Stark was arriving."

Mazzy lets out a loud, obnoxious groan and flops backward onto the bed. All three of them— Steve, Wanda, and Vision— stare at her for a moment, but she doesn't pay them any mind.

"Uh, thank you. We'll be right down," Steve eventually says. He gives Vision a small nod to show his appreciation.

Vision nods in return and awkwardly turns toward the door— the entrance he was supposed to use. "I'll use the door," he says as he goes. Just as he's about to leave, he stops in the doorway and turns back to look at the other three in the room. "Oh, and apparently, he's brought a guest."

"We know who it is?" Steve asks, raising his eyebrows.

"The Secretary of State," Vision answers before leaving the room completely.

With that, Mazzy sits up again, a confused look plastered on her face. "What the heck's the Secretary of State doing here?" she asks, her question mainly directed at Steve.

Steve, though, knows just as little as she does, so he only shrugs. "I guess we'll have to find out," he says, standing up off of the bed.

"He's probably here for the Avengers. Too bad I'm a Not-Avenger, or else, maybe, I'd be invited," Mazzy says with a fake solemn look on her face as she holds her chin in her hand. It's very obviously just a ploy to get one of them to invite her along with them, but Steve doesn't mind. He thinks it's funny.

"You can come with us, Maz."

✮

The Secretary of State— Secretary Ross, apparently— lets out a big sigh. "Five years ago, I had a heart attack and dropped right in the middle of my backswing," he starts with, standing front and center, right at the end of a big table at which all of the Avengers plus Mazzy sat around, and miming the action of swinging a golf club.

Mazzy, who is sitting at the end of the table, next to Steve, has no idea what Secretary Ross's mid-golf heart attack has anything to do with them. Especially her. Because when she walked in just moments ago by Steve and Wanda's sides, Secretary Ross actually said that he was glad she was there because, in his words, this is relevant to her.

So far, it doesn't feel very relevant, but Secretary Ross is only getting started, so she guesses she should give him time to get to the point. Though she does prefer when people get straight to the point.

"Turned out it was the best round of my life because, after thirteen hours of surgery and a triple bypass, I found something forty years in the Army had never taught me: perspective," Secretary Ross continues. He's got this smug smile on his face, like he feels real smart, saying all of this. "The world owes the Avengers an unpayable debt. You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives... but while a great many people see you as heroes, there are some who prefer the word vigilantes."

Vigilantes?

Vigilantes are like the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. People like Batman. People like that guy Mazzy's heard about fighting crime in Hell's Kitchen. People who go out in the night and fight without revealing their identity to the public; people who prefer to remain anonymous.

The Avengers are anything but anonymous. At least one of them is talked about on the news every single week, and SNL has made plenty of skits about them. Everyone knows who they are, and they live with the repercussions of that. They're not vigilantes.

Natasha sits herself up straighter in her chair. "And what word would you use, Mr. Secretary?" she asks.

"How about dangerous?" Secretary Ross replies. The kind and friendly demeanor he had previously been showing is beginning to slip away and morph into more of a serious, authoritarian way of speaking. "What would you call a group of US-based, enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who, frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?"

Mazzy, ever her father's unshy daughter, lets out a scoff. Unconcerned? She just left Wanda's room, where Wanda was completely beating herself up over something that was hardly even her own fault. Unconcerned was complete— well, Mazzy would like to say bullshit, but Steve doesn't like bad language words, so— poppycock!

All eyes in the room turn to her, including the Secretary's. "Something you would like to say, Miss Stark?" he asks.

"Just that you have no idea what you're talking about," Mazzy murmurs with a shrug. No one says anything. Secretary Ross looks at Tony, as if he's going to do something about this, but he doesn't move from his seat in the back of the room. "Just 'cause you think they seem unconcerned doesn't mean they are unconcerned. They're very much concerned, thank you very much."

"How about some examples, then?" the Secretary offers. He steps to the side as a screen behind him turns on. "New York."

With the press of a button, a video displaying the chaos of New York, 2011, plays on the screen. Videos of the Hulk jumping from building to building, leaving damage without a care in the world. The audio showcases the sounds of horrified New Yorkers screaming at the sight of it all.

"Washington DC."

A second press makes the screen switch to the horrors of Natasha and Steve's mission in Washington DC. The one that involved the Winter Soldier. Smoke covers the sky as a Shield hovercraft goes crashing to the ground.

"Sokovia."

Mazzy remembers the wreckage of Sokovia better than she remembers any of the other incidents. An entire city being lifted hundreds of feet into the air while those murder bots terrorized the citizens. Pietro's death and Bruce's disappearance.

"Lagos."

Lagos, Nigeria. Wanda and Steve's mistake. Mazzy had only seen it through the television screen.

Wanda can't look at the screen any longer. She turns away, her eyes practically burning holes into the table in front of her as they well up with guilty tears. She swallows, trying to clear the thoughts from her mind.

"Okay. That's enough," Steve says, stopping Secretary Ross before he can show anything else.

It isn't fair, though. Their perspective is completely off. They should stop thinking about the damage left behind and start thinking about the damage that could have been done if the Avengers weren't there to stop it. The world could have been destroyed if it weren't for the Avengers. Why is it so hard for people to understand that?

Mazzy wants to scoff again and continue arguing, but she only rolls her eyes and slouches down in her chair, crossing her arms. She doesn't know where this is going, but she knows it's probably something stupid.

"For the past four years, you've operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That's an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate," Secretary Ross tells them all. He turns to the security guard he brought with him, who hands him a big, thick book. "But I think we have a solution."

Secretary Ross places the book on the table in front of Wanda.

"The Sokovia Accords."

Eyeing the thing with distaste, Mazzy already dislikes the thing. She doesn't know what exactly it entails, but she does know what Secretary Ross has been alluding to this whole time; government control. The solution of government control is exactly what they should have all been expecting, coming from a government official.

"Approved by 117 countries, it states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they'll operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel only when and if that panel deems it necessary," Secretary Ross explains.

Mazzy sits up again, tapping her fingers against the table. "This doesn't include me, though, because I'm a Not-Avenger," she says, glancing at her dad, who is being unusually quiet in the corner of the room. He doesn't react.

"Actually, Miss Stark, you're right. This doesn't apply to you because these accords state that, along with a few other regulations made specifically for you, you're hereby prohibited from operating with or without the Avengers until your eighteenth birthday," Secretary Ross tells the girl.

Her eyes going wide, Mazzy leans forward on the table. "No, that's not fair. That's not fair," she says, shaking her head.

"It is fair, considering you all have been ignoring countless child labor laws for-"

"That's not fair!" Mazzy says again. Her tapping on the table stops. "People are allowed to get jobs when they're, like, fourteen. And that's just normal people. I'm not even normal. To not let me fight is to let human beings, who I could save, die all because you don't think I'm old enough or whatever. People will die!"

"Mazzy," Tony says from the corner.

"That's alright, Mr. Stark. She doesn't need to sign it. You do," Secretary Ross states. Yet another thing that is just completely and totally unfair, in Mazzy's opinion.

Mazzy turns to him, her eyebrows furrowed but her eyes wide with disbelief. "Are you kidding, Dad? This is totally not fair! What if someone needed my help and I couldn't help them because of this?"

"What if you were trying to help someone and you got hurt, or worse? Do we need to have this conversation again, Mazzy? You are not an adult," Tony says. It's odd, the way he's talking. It's not like he's angry. His voice is somewhat quiet, but it's still stern. It's like there's something else lingering in the back of his mind.                                    

"Yeah, Dad, I know. I'm not an adult and I'm definitely not an Avenger. Right?" Mazzy snarks back at him.

She expects Tony to continue trying to get her to calm down about the whole thing, to try and reason with her or something, but he doesn't. He simply says, "Right."

Before Mazzy can get the chance to react to that, Steve clears his throat. "The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place," he says, drawing focus back to the whole Avengers part of the Sokovia Accords. Mazzy sits back in her chair and glares daggers at that stupid book. Steve and the rest of the people around the table try to ignore her behavior, but it keeps the air tense. "I feel we've done that."

"Tell me, Captain, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now?" Secretary Ross asks, raising his eyebrows at Steve. Steve, though, doesn't have an answer. He doesn't know where either of the two are. "If I misplaced a couple of 30-megaton nukes, you can bet there'd be consequences."

"Thor and Bruce are living, breathing beings! Not just a couple of nukes some stupid workers made in a factory!" Mazzy argues, a look of complete disbelief on her face. What she can't believe is how stupid the Secretary of State is and how dehumanizing the 117 countries who agreed to the Sokovia Accords are.

"They are living, breathing beings with an unnatural amount of power," Secretary Ross counters, walking around the table and taking in the faces of each and every person there. He can almost already tell who is going to and who is not going to agree to the terms. "Compromise. Reassurance. That's how the world works. Believe me, this is the middle ground."

Rhodey, with the book in front of him, looks up at Secretary Ross. "So, there are contingencies," he says with raised eyebrows.

"Three days from now, the UN meets in Vienna to ratify the Accords."

Steve turns in his chair, looking back at Tony. Tony only stares right at the ground, a look of despondency on his face. He can't seem to stop fidgeting with his hands. He feels torn, really. He wants to make Mazzy happy and he doesn't want to have to disagree with the rest of the Avengers, but he also believes that those Accords are for the best.

"Talk it over," Secretary Ross says before he and his security guard start to leave the room.

"And if we come to a decision you don't like?" Natasha asks.

Secretary Ross stops in the doorway. "Then you retire."

✮

"Secretary Ross has a Congressional Medal of Honor, which is one more than you have," Rhodey says to Sam in the heat of everyone's arguments.

"Yeah, 'cause he some straight, rich, white guy in a place of power," Mazzy says, rolling her eyes from place beside her father on the couch. She kicks at his calf in an attempt to get him to be normal again, but he ignores her, combatting an awful headache.

"I'm sorry, when did you become a political activist, Only-Eleven-Year-Old-in-the-Room?" Rhodey asks Mazzy with raised eyebrows.

"That's age discrimination, first of all, and second of all, just because I'm eleven doesn't mean I'm unaware of the social hierarchy within our society."

"Oh, my God," Rhodey huffs, rubbing his eyes.

"So let's say we agree to this thing. How long is it gonna be before they LoJack us like a bunch of common criminals?" Sam asks, his irritation evident in his voice.

"117 countries want to sign this. 117, Sam, and you're just like, 'No, that's cool. We got it,'" Rhodey says, turning his attention away from Mazzy and back to Sam, who he was arguing with in the first place.

Sam scoffs, narrowing his eyes at Rhodey. "How long are you going to play both sides?"

"I have an equation," Vision announces loudly, interrupting the argument.

"Oh, brother. Great. Vision has an equation," Mazzy says sarcastically.

"Right, right. This'll clear it up," Sam adds, playing along with her sarcasm.

Vision, however, pays them no mind. "In the eight years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man, the number of known enhanced persons has exponentially," he begins to explain. Steve, who is still reading over the Accords, glances up from the book to listen. "During the same period, the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate."

"So, it's my dad's fault? That makes sense," Mazzy says, earning a huff from Tony beside her.

"Mr. Stark isn't the only enhanced individual in this room."

"Are you saying it's all our fault?" Steve asks.

"I'm saying there may be a causality," Vision corrects. No one tries to argue with that, so Vision only goes on. "Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict," he says, "breeds catastrophe."

And as much as Mazzy wants to disagree with that, she knows that there is very much some truth to it.

"Oversight... oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand," Vision says decidedly.

"Boom," Rhodey says to drive home Vision's point. He looks at Sam, who only glares back at him.

Mazzy lightly kicks at her dad's calf again, and he still ignores her. He only lays back on the couch, his hand covering his face.

Natasha— ever insightful Natasha— notices his odd, un-Tony-like behavior. "Tony," she says, making him uncover his face to look at her, "you are being uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal."

"It's because he's already made up his mind," Steve says, looking over at Tony as well.

"Boy, you know me so well," Tony says, tossing his head to the side to look at Steve. He gets up off the couch to get himself a cup of coffee. "Actually, I'm nursing an electromagnetic headache. That's what's going on, Cap. It's just pain. It's discomfort. Who's putting coffee grounds in the disposal?"

No one admits to it. If it were Mazzy, she wouldn't want to admit to it, either.

"Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?" Tony asks.

He walks across to the counter and places his phone on it, pressing a button that makes the screen display in the air above, for everyone to see. On it is a boy— a man, Mazzy supposes, but a relatively young one.

Tony points at the screen. "Oh, that's Charles Spencer, by the way. He's a great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA, has a floor-level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul before he parked it behind a desk. See the world. Maybe be of service."

No one knows where this is going, but from what they can tell by Tony's tone of voice, it isn't good. None of them dare to speak— not even stubborn Mazzy. They only listen.

"Charlie didn't want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do. He didn't go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where. Sokovia."

Now, though, they all know where this is going. They can already guess where Charles Spencer is now.

"He wanted to make a difference, I suppose. I mean, we won't know because we dropped a building on him while we were kickin' ass."

The room is silent, now that Tony's gotten to his point. Mazzy's stomach aches. She slouches deeper into the couch, chewing at the inside of her lips.

Tony takes a sip of his coffee and comes back around to the other side of the counter. "There's no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check," he says loudly. He's angry at himself, and Mazzy can hear it in his voice. "Whatever form that takes, I'm game. If we can't accept limitations, if we're boundary-less, we're not better than the bad guys."

"Tony," Steve says, the first one to dare speak and break the silence. "Someone dies on your watch, you don't give up."

"Who said we're giving up?" Tony asks, raising his eyebrows.

"We are if we're not taking responsibility for our actions. This document just shifts the blame," Steve answers.

And Rhodey has to disagree with that. "I'm sorry. Steve, that- that is dangerously arrogant. This is the United Nations we're talking about. It's not the World Security Council, it's not Shield, it's not Hydra-"

"No, but it's run by people with agendas, and agendas change," Steve argues.

"That's good," Tony interjects, joining everyone back in the living room area. "That's why I'm here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stopped manufacturing."

"Tony, you chose to do that. If we sign this, we surrender our right to choose," Steve says, sitting up taller in his chair as he becomes more heated. It's like the taller you sit up, the stronger your point is, although that's never been true. "What if this panel sends us somewhere we don't think we should go? What if there's somewhere we need to go and they don't let us?"

Tony can understand where Steve is coming from, but he can't agree not to sign the Accords. The Accords, in his eyes, are the only solution. The only way to ease his guilty conscience.

"We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own," Steve insists.

"If we don't do this now, it's gonna be done to us later," Tony tells him. Steve closes his eyes and shakes his head in disagreement, but Tony pays it no mind. "That's the fact. That won't be pretty."

"You're saying they'll come for me," Wanda says, more like a statement than a question.

"We would protect you," Vision promises.

"Maybe Tony's right," Natasha says. Mazzy lets out a big huff because the last person she wants to disagree with is Natasha Romanoff. "If we have one hand on the wheel, we can still steer. If we take it off..."

"Aren't you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?" Sam asks with his head tilted to the side.

"I'm just- I'm reading the terrain," Natasha tells him. She sighs, fully thinking through her thoughts before sharing them. "We have made some very public mistakes. We need to win their trust back."

"What about me?" Mazzy interjects, sitting up to look right at Nastaha. She widens her eyes. "What if you need my help and I can't help you because some old, white guy decided that I'm not allowed?" she asks Natasha.

Nat gives her a very sympathetic look but still has to let her down. "You helped us a lot in Sokovia, Maz, but you shouldn't have had to. It's not good for you. You're a kid and-"

"God, why don't you guys understand?!" Mazzy huffs. Her throat is starting to get that tight feeling that shows up when she's about to cry. She tries to ignore it. "I can actually help! I can save people!"

"That isn't your responsibility, Mazzy," Natasha insists.

"But it's what I want to-!"

"Focus up," Tony interrupts, stopping Mazzy from doing any more arguing. As the lump in Mazzy's throat grows, Tony turns his attention to Nat, squinting his eyes questioningly. "I'm sorry. Did I just mishear you or did you agree with me?"

Natasha stares at him, now beginning to regret sharing her real thoughts. "Oh, I wanna take it back now."

"No, no, no. You can't retract it. Thank you," Tony says with a smug smile. "Okay. Case closed. I win."

Mazzy looks around the room, and everyone is looking at her dad. Everyone except for Steve. Steve is looking at her. He has this sad but conflicted look on his face, like he can't decide who he agrees with. He just looks like he understands what nobody else seems to.

Until his phone buzzes.

Steve unlocks his cell phone and stares at it for a few seconds, the sadness on his face deepening. "I have to go," is all he says before dropping the Accords on the table and leaving.

💫⭐️💫⭐️

I WATCHED THE BRAVE NEW WORLD TRAILER MID WRITING THIS CHAPTER AND HAD TO TAKE A BREAK TO JUMP AROUND IN CIRCLES WITH EXCITEMENT