As you slammed your small amount of personal belongings into the cardboard box, you tried to call Bruce yet again, the fourth time in the last two minutes since Fury screamed at you in front of the entire weapons division and you angrily shouted back that you quit this damn job once and for all. "Egomaniacal jerk," you mumbled to yourself as the phone continued to ring with no answer, "power tripping asshat."

"(Y/N)? What's wrong?" Bruce said when he finally answered the phone that must have finally driven him mad. "Who's dead, dying, or-"

"I don't know what you were thinking, Bruce," you interrupted in a furious tone, "getting me this assistant job with that man. I don't need it that bad. I would rather go back to flipping burgers than deal with one more minute of working with him." The sounds of your packing were almost so loud that they drowned out the conversation, but you kept on. "Okay, so his calendar got all messed up, but it wasn't totally my fault! This new system that SHIELD uploaded last week is all glitchy and temperamental, but does he care? NO! It must have been all me, right?" As you finished collecting the last of your things, you turned to leave and took a deep breath to calm yourself, stopping at the door of your office to turn off the lights for the final time. "God, I need a drink. I'll be by the tower in a bit, if that's okay?" You paused when there was no immediate reply, worried that your older brother had other ideas for you. "If not I can just head home, it's okay."

"No, no it's fine," he replied quietly, "I'd love to see you. So would...the rest of the team."

"Great, thanks, B. I'll be there in about an hour. Open bar, alright?"

"Got it," he chuckled, "we'll be ready."

After waiting for what felt like forever for the bus to arrive, you threw your sad little box on the seat next to you and leaned your head back, closing your eyes for a few precious minutes before arriving home to change clothes. It wasn't doing you any good to stay too wound up from your shouting match with Fury, but you could only do so much. Your eyes were jolted open when a man grabbed your box and set it on the floor, taking the seat next to you.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Well, actually-"

"Good. Because we have some very important plans for you, (Y/N), and it would be a tragedy for your friends if I let you get out of my sight along the way."

~~~

"I think (Y/N) should have been here by now, don't you?" Bruce asked quietly, looking back at the door in case you happened to walk in at any second, his heart racing a bit with each person that entered who wasn't you. "She said she was going to run home to change her clothes and that she'd be right over. That was..." he paused, turning his wrist to check his watch and immediately filling with anxiety, "Tony, that was almost three hours ago. She lives ten blocks away."

"You want to take a team over?"

"I think we should," Bruce nodded and nervously fidgeted with his glasses. "Maybe Nat and Steve could come with us, just to be safe."

"I'm coming with you," Clint interrupted, pulling his jacket on as he made his way towards the group. Bruce eyed him a bit suspiciously even though he knew exactly why Barton wanted to join in. The two of them never discussed his feelings and he had never even shared them with you, but he still felt a sense of responsibility to make sure you were okay.

Bruce nodded wordlessly and led the group to your apartment as quickly as he could. Once there, he noticed that the door was locked and no signs that anyone had tried to break in, so his nerves calmed just slightly. With one hand still resting on the door knob, the other tapped at his jacket pocket, finding his keys and flipping them in his hand until he found the spare that you had given him when you moved in.

"She said this is for emergencies only," he mumbled to himself, "I think this counts, but I really hope it doesn't."

Bruce slowly slid the key into the lock and took a deep breath, closing his eyes and preparing himself as he turned it until it clicked its release and allowed him to push the door open. Turning to glance back at Tony, he took a step into your home and dropped the ring of keys on the floor with a loud clang that startled the others. His breathing quickened and his heart began to pound in his chest; he heard a familiar ring in his ears as his blood pressure began to climb and his anger became harder to control. A small growl escaped from his throat, and he looked down to see his hands covered in a faint shade of green.

"Nat, I think you need to take Banner outside," Clint whispered, stepping forward as she cautiously took Bruce's arm and led him away, speaking quietly and trying to hold his attention.

Steve and Tony followed Clint through the door and stopped short at the sight, looking at each other worriedly in silent conversation and turning to leave almost as quickly. Clint paused for just a moment in the doorway, looking back and feeling suddenly very sick to his stomach with a deep ache in his chest. He wondered how he didn't see this coming; the man with impeccable vision, who could see better from a distance, completely missed the signs that were right in front of him. You were the sister of an Avenger; not only an Avenger, but arguably the strongest Avenger. You were Nick Fury's number one assistant and confidant, with high-level security access to SHIELD and Avengers intel.

You were always going to be a target.

He stared at the words painted hastily in red across your living room wall, the paint dripping from each letter like blood dripping from a wound, and did his best to avoid seeing the pictures of you and friends and family tossed carelessly and broken across your floor. His eyes were drawn to one in particular of you and the team, safety nestled between himself and Bruce, looking happy and healthy. In that moment, he vowed that he wouldn't stop until you looked that way again.

There are no prisoners with HYDRA. There is only pain.

Clint stepped through the door and pulled a knife from his boot, flipping it in his hand before impaling it into the far wall, centered on the emblem they had sloppily painted there. His weapon connected between its eyes, and he gave a single nod in satisfaction. As he finally closed the door behind him, he whispered to himself, "are you ready for yours?"

~~~

"What is happening?! She's completely out of control!"

"We need to restrain her!"

"Sir, we can't even enter the room!"

The cell you were held in couldn't contain the powers they had given you, or rather experimented with until you were cursed with them. You weren't out of control at all; you were trying to make your escape with a well planned explosion of your abilities made to look like you were uncontrollable and so that they wouldn't want you anymore. You easily sent their tools and equipment flying through the air and smashing into each wall, and had now used your power of ice manipulation to freeze each door shut tight after the men had left the room. If you were out of control, this would scare you more than you already were; you were terrified of what you could do and who you could hurt with it. Your mind flashed to Bruce and the rest of his team, knowing that you were being created for that reason and why it was vital for you to escape.

"(Y/N), what are you doing?" the man's voice rang out through the room, "you need to regain control. You need to stop."

You closed your eyes and focused on his voice, trying to find him in the dozens of other men just outside the door. The telepathy and mind control wasn't very sharp within you yet, but you had a vague understanding of how to use it, hoping it would be enough. First, you had to clear your mind and relax your body from the fear that was gripping you.

"No," you said quietly as if to yourself, "you need to stop talking and come to me. You will release me and take me away from here."

There was a long silence, and you knew you had reached him and made him confused, but you couldn't be sure if you were effective or not. At least not until you heard loud gunfire just outside, followed by his gentle knock on the door.

"(Y/N), I am here to take you to a waiting vehicle."

It worked. You sighed and rested your hand against the door, melting the ice away so that you could open it. Before you made your escape, you gasped at the sight of in a nearby mirror, not recognizing yourself as the person who looked back. Your hair had turned jet black with vibrant streaks of silver running through it, and your eyes were an electric blue. It was certainly striking, but there was no way that you could ever hide yourself looking like this.

There was no time to think about that, however, and you grabbed the man's arm to run from the base. If you could just get far enough away, you could call on your brother for help; you had been gone for nearly two months now, and you could only imagine the pain he was in. The cargo door opened as you reached it and the getaway vehicle was in sight.

Your escort stopped suddenly and turned to you, his eyes filled with recognition of what he was doing; he raised his weapon to stop you, your control over him clearly no longer effective.

"You stay out of my head!" he yelled, releasing the safety on his gun and wrapping his finger around the trigger. "Turn around and go back inside now!"

"Put it down," you said calmly with your hands raised before you. "Put it down and walk away. I don't want to do this."

"Go back inside!"

"Please," you whispered, your mind already taking control of his, even though you tried to stop, "I don't want to."

The guard's eyes widened in horror as his arm turned and his hand aimed the gun at his own face. You struggled to stop but your own fear of injury or death was controlling your actions now. You wanted to lunge forward and rip it from his hands, but you were frozen in place, left to watch him die under your command with nothing you could do about it.

"(Y/N)!" Yelled a familiar voice from above; a voice that sounded like Tony and confirmed as such when his repulsor beam struck the guard down before he could shoot. He landed firmly to the ground next to you, grabbing you as you sunk to your knees. "Hey, kid, you're okay, we've got you."

"It's about damn time."

"You're welcome," he laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. "I like the look. If you're going for inconspicuous though, near miss."

"Yeah," you sighed, "I left the standard-issue sunglasses and hoodie at home."

Part 2

"Tony, wait," you stopped, grabbing his arm as you ran to the quinjet, "where's Clint?" You looked around almost frantically, finally turning towards the building when his thoughts and surge of intense emotions hit your mind. "What the hell is he doing?"

You ran back towards the base that you had finally broken free of, desperate to stop Clint before he got himself injured or killed trying to take out an entire HYDRA facility on his own. Tony followed close behind to catch you, grabbing you by your shirt to hold you back. "Are you nuts? You just got out of there, you can't go back in! Go to the jet and let me take care of this."

With your anxiety building and your pulse quickening, you wanted to listen to Tony; you wanted to run as fast as you could to the safety of the jet where you saw Steve standing guard at the door, but you couldn't block Clint from your mind and had to be the one to stop him. You pulled hard until Tony lost his grip and ran back in, knowing he would follow you for backup.

Just inside the door you were startled to a halt at the guttural growl that filled the building; one that you knew all too well and one that you knew would be holding onto control by a thread given the situation. "Are you kidding me right now, Banner?" you mumbled to yourself, turning back to Tony with frustration. "Did you bring him along? Was this your idea?"

"Well, I thought it couldn't hurt..."

"You thought," you huffed, "no one is thinking as far as I can tell right now! He will kill everyone, Tony. And as much as I'm okay with that, when he thinks about this later, when he's Bruce again, he won't be okay with it." You began to make your way further in, this time stopping Tony so you could go alone. "Just cover the perimeter, alright? I'll take care of this."

I can take care of this. I can. I can get Clint and Bruce and get out of here.

As you got closer to the loud roar and yells from guards as they met the Hulk for the first time, your inner voice was quieter with each minute, losing confidence in your ability to do this. You had very little control of your new powers as it was, even in the best of conditions. You were stressed and scared, and could only hope to not make things worse. "Oh, god," you gasped as you were hit with waves of pure rage from the Hulk, realizing why Bruce feared turning into the monster as much as he did. You tried to concentrate on the source, telling him to try to calm down and gain control; trying to get Bruce to reappear.

When the roaring continued you finally gave up, knowing that you weren't strong enough to stop him. Instead, you changed your focus to Clint, searching for him amongst the barrage of voices in your mind. You saw him before you heard him, hurrying to catch him and following the sounds of his voice and his arrows cutting through the air.

"Clint, stop!" you yelled as you reached him, startling him before he could shoot again. "You can stop, it's okay. Let's just get out of here, alright?"

"(Y/N), no, I'm sorry. This has to end here," he said with a voice that sounded apologetic though his expression didn't match the tone, "I am going to end this." He jumped when a large section of a metal table flew overhead, slamming into a small group of guards as they entered the room. "Sorry, sorry. I meant we're going to end this. Okay, big guy? We're going to."

He raised his bow at another guard, even though he was raising his hands in defeat and was going to surrender. You had never seen Clint so bloodthirsty before and it was unsettling and frightening. With all of the concentration you could gather, you raised your hands and summoned his bow to you, firmly landing in your grasp.

"Give that back to me, (Y/N)!" He took a few steps towards you but you were already gone, running toward the exit as fast as you could. You could only hope that he would follow since he was now unarmed, or that the Hulk would keep him safe until they could both leave. You couldn't reach Bruce, but you could at least stop Clint.

"Here she comes," Steve called out to Tony, who was still flying overhead to keep the area secure. He squinted his eyes slightly, concentrating on you and the bow in your hands, curious now as to why you had it and what happened to Barton. "Wait, what the hell...?"

You ran up the ramp into the jet, throwing the weapon to the Captain and landing in a nearby seat, on the verge of hyperventilating. "Keep that...away...from Clint..." you panted. "Steve...can't...breathe..."

He quickly grabbed an oxygen mask from the cabinet behind you and secured it over your face, sitting next to you and watching with wide eyes full of concern and shock. He was worried about what they had done to you and what it would mean to bring you back to the tower now; would you be a threat? Could you control your powers and what could you even do? Your new appearance was striking, and he couldn't help but stare, mesmerized by the change.

"Slow down, (Y/N), you're okay. Focus on your breathing." He put a reassuring hand on your arm but you pulled away when your mind filled with his thoughts and his own anxiety adding to yours. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry...I won't do that. Just focus, okay?" He stood and moved to the door, watching for the rest of his team to return.

After several minutes he stepped back in, seeing Clint and Bruce in his human form, running towards the jet with Tony flying right behind. Once inside, Bruce quickly shut the door and sat next to you, pulling you in for a tight hug that took your breath away. You felt and heard his mind, but you wanted the contact with him so badly that you did your best to silence it and tolerate the discomfort.

Steve began to lift the jet into the air but it was jolted by a large explosion just outside. He looked out the window to see the HYDRA base completely destroyed and burning to the ground. "Um, hey guys," he called out, "what happened to just 'search and rescue'?"

~~~

"You've got some nerve, (Y/N), taking my bow like that," Clint huffed, shaking his head in disbelief while watching Bruce examine you. "No one touches the bow."

"Well obviously, someone did," you snickered, "and you're not as scary as you think you are."

"Could you both please shut up?" Bruce interjected, "The more you babble on and interrupt me, the longer this is going to take." He turned away to adjust one of his monitors and enter some of his data, so you turned to Clint to silently continue your argument.

"I told you to stop," you mouthed.

"You're not the boss of me."

"Mature, Barton."

"I was saving you."

"I was already outside! I had it under control, if you hadn't noticed! All you had to do was open the damn jet door, was that so difficult? You are such a hothead sometimes, I swear, you're gonna get yourself killed one day!"

He paused and stared at you, his mouth agape and a confused expression over his face, "wait, I can't read lips that fast. What?"

"Oh my god, get out!" Bruce snapped. "I need to have a word with my sister, if you don't mind." He stood silently next to you until the room was clear, taking a seat on the gurney next to you. "Do you want the good news or the not-so-good news first?"

"Is it worse than the new hair? The blue eyes don't work with my skin tone?" you laughed, but when he didn't return your humor, you were silenced and cleared your throat awkwardly. "Come on, Bruce, if I don't laugh, I'll cry."

"I can't reverse it. Any of it." He lowered his head and removed his glasses to rub his eyes in frustration and sorrow, letting out a deep sigh before putting them back on but still avoiding your eyes. "But," he paused, "we can train you to control it, and maybe turn it into something good. That's the best I can offer."

~~~

Clint, Steve and Nick stood outside of the training room, holding their breath as they watched Bruce begin to turn a hazy green while his muscles contracted and began to rip his shirt.

"Take control, (Y/N)," he growled between gasps, "tell me to stop."

It was taking all of your concentration to just slow his transition, but the thought of stopping it altogether was ridiculous. You weren't ready and you knew it. "I can't."

"What if I say...that I'll kill you?"

"I know better."

"What if I say that I'll kill him?"

You opened your eyes and spun around, seeing Clint standing at the door with an arrow drawn and aimed at your brother, who seemed just fine with this insane plan. Clint pulled back a little more, the arrow now certain to strike as fast as possible, maybe even faster than the Hulk could transform to stop it. He looked at you and waited for you to take action, but when you didn't comply he began to count down for a little added pressure.

"Ten."

"You can't be serious," you gasped.

"Nine."

You looked at Bruce in horror but tried your best to concentrate on stopping the Hulk from making an appearance. It felt impossible to connect with his mind, and you began to panic.

"Five."

You didn't know if Clint would really shoot Bruce, but you also didn't know if you could take the chance. If they thought this cutthroat method was going to be the answer, they were dumber than they looked right now. It did nothing other than distract you from your goal.

"Three."

"Two."

"...one."

The arrow released from the bow as you raised your hand towards it, slowing it long enough for you to raise your other hand and push Bruce backwards to the ground and out its path. It wasn't the goal you had in mind, or the one they wanted to see, but it was progress nonetheless. "I'm done here," you spat, glaring at each of them before storming from the room.

"What the hell are you doing here?" You growled, stepping up to face Nick, the first time you had seen him since your last day on the job. "This has nothing to do with you. Oh, wait, I see," you said with an air of mockery, "you feel bad. You're sorry. You want to be sure that I'm okay." You tapped the side of your head and sneered, "no secrets from me now, remember?"

"Yes, (Y/N), I'm very sorry. I do feel badly. I should have done a better job at protecting you, I admit that."

Steve stepped up behind you and took your hand, leading you away when he saw your breathing quicken as your anger grew. "You don't have to worry, Nick. We can protect her now. You've done enough."

~~~

A few hours after Steve had dropped you off in your new room at the tower you had finally fallen asleep after getting the events of the day out of your mind. It was a relief to get even a few hours of rest, so when you were awoken by Clint banging on your door, you felt at least slightly better.

"Go away, Barton," you groaned.

"Come on, let me in. I'll be fast, I promise."

You rolled to your side and slowly dropped your feet to the floor, pausing to stretch the sleep from your muscles. It was hard to open your eyes, trying to rub the sting from them but only making it worse. You stood and dragged yourself to the door, reluctantly opening it but not allowing him inside.

"Talk."

"Can I come in?"

"No."

"Okay," he exhaled slowly, "well, I just wanted to check on you, and say that I'm sorry. We ambushed you today. Twice."

"Okay, thanks." You stepped back and began to push the door closed but his foot shot forward and blocked it. "What are you doing, Clint? It's really late and I'm exhausted."

"I think I love you," he blurted out before he completely lost his chance and his nerve. "I mean...yeah...that."

"I already know," you whispered, still just behind the door, "but I appreciate your bravery in coming here." You stepped forward slightly so that you could see him, feeling saddened by the expression on his face and your inability to make this any better for him or for you. "I can't do this, okay? I can't give you what you're looking for, Clint, not right now."

He nodded without another word, watching his own feet as he turned to walk away. You reached out and took his arm, holding him back so you could give him a small but genuine kiss before letting him go. "Thank you for rescuing me," you whispered, "I hope you'll wait for me."

"Just tell me when, (Y/N)," he said with a smile, "it would be my genuine pleasure."