It's just so much to process in such a short span of time. I have a crush on Peter Parker—who just so happens to be Spiderman, the Avengers are at war with each other, and my step-dad is probably a mad scientist. And there's barely been any time to really think about any of it. Any time I even try to untangle the knots, I seem to get even more intertwined in them. Not to mention, the immediate panic the mere thought it all brings.

I try to remind myself that I'm not alone. Dad is doing everything he can to make this alright, and Steve is simply following his heart and beliefs, which I can't deny having a sound sense of logic in certain aspects.

The Accords are honestly terrifying. Agent Ross has already made it abundantly clear that I fall under the current umbrella of their authority. I don't even know why since I'm not an official Avenger and still a minor. But—that apparently means nothing—I've been told if I don't follow the rules they set, I'll be seen as an international criminal too.

It makes me want to scream as I change into my pajamas and climb into my coffin. The tension that I finally got rid of by my afternoon with Peter is back in full force, and my head throbs as I try to process everything.

All it would take is one slip up—one time of getting caught on patrol without someone's permission, and I'll be locked away in a super-secret, mega-max security prison. My stomach feels queasy at the idea of it all.

Not to mention, I still have to figure out what Jim's doing at OSCORPS. There's something wrong about it. I can feel it in my chest. I'm missing something—something important that might just make sense of it all.

It feels like everything useful is just outside my reach, and each time I get close, it's gone. It's the endless cycle that keeps swirling through my head as I tuck myself into the coffin for the night of restless sleep.

Voices echo around me. The mix of low and high tones jumble together like the strange words they're using. I can hear them close by, but all I can make out are the shadows of their looming figures.

My limbs try to move, but something rough rubs against my skin and holds them in place. It sends my heart pounding in a futile attempt to get out of my chest. Fear settles in, and questions roll through my head.

One of the monsters leans over me. Sounds come from him, but I can't see a mouth moving. Instead, there's a patch where it should be, and it stretches and pulls as the noises pour out of him. The only visible, familiar feature is the eyes—a cold and deep icy blue.

A cold hand clamps on my inner elbow. I try to look down to see what's happening, but only spot a flash of blue before a sharp pain.

Fire pours into my veins. It's a burning that can only compare to the full Supernova trapped beneath my skin. The fire of a dying star's energy pumping through my veins.

My jaw clenches as I writhe and scream in unparalleled pain. The rubber mouthguard pokes at my cheeks and keeps me from biting my tongue or cracking my teeth. I can feel the energy boiling and trying to escape as my muscles spasm from whatever they're putting into me.

For a second, the shadows clouding my vision clears, and I can see the two monsters around me better than before. They watch me with rapt attention, using their strange blue hands to scrawl things down as they mumble things to another.

Something in me shifts at the sight of those blank faces and gleaming eyes. It's almost as if they're enjoying this—to know that I'm watching them in immense pain, and they would rather watch than do anything helpful. All I can feel is hate for them because of it.

I hate everything about them. Everything from the gleeful eyes, blank faces, blue, clawed hands, and patch mouths. I despise it all.

The pain of the energy fades in a dull pulsing that falls in time with my heartbeat. They continue to watch and whisper. Something in my chest pulls at my anger, the hurt, the fury. Another yell erupts from my throat as the tugging gets stronger, and I force my limbs free with a rush of strength and pain.

They both freeze. Eyes widen in shock. One of them rushes toward me, and I react. My brain can't quite process what's happening. All I know is that I want to stop it. I want to stop the pain—to stop the monsters from doing it again.

"Lia!" A familiar voice echoes, but it's muddled and hazy. There's a pressure around my wrists, which still ache from the restraints as the shouting continues. "Lia, wake up!"

The bright white room shutters and disappears. I open my eyes to see my hands covered in cuts and blood, and Dad kneeling in front of me with worry etched into his face as he gently holds my wrists. I don't know why, but I cry. "It's okay, bug. You're okay now. I promise you, you're safe." He whispers as he brushes a hand over my curly hair.

"It was horrible, Dad. I've never had that nightmare before, but it felt so real. Maybe even more so than the others." I sob into his shirt, likely staining it with the blood from my hands and tears. "Why did it feel so real?"

He just kisses my forehead and holds me close to him until my breathing evens out. I pull away from his chest and finally take notice of the broken glass. The lid to the coffin is lifted, but there's still a very obvious hole in it. "Did I—?" My words trail off as I turn to Dad, who shares my look of worry and bewilderment. "How did I break it? It's supposed to be able to withstand my abilities—even my strength."

"I don't know. I just heard it breaking and your shouts and came running." He looks down at my hands, which still have slivers of glass in the cuts. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up. I don't want you hurting yourself any further."

I nod and put on the slippers he hands me to avoid stepping on glass. We walk through the house in silence. Neither of us is sure what to say or do. I know my mind is racing to catch bits of the nightmare that are quickly fading. There was something so real about it. It didn't even feel like a dream—more like the nightmares about the accident or Henry. But I doubt it was a memory. I mean, that wouldn't make sense—right?

Dad has me settle on a barstool as he sits across from me and cleans out the glass and cuts. "Do you want to talk about the nightmare?" He asks gently as he looks at me with the same eyes I inherited from him. "I'm assuming it was a bad one." I stay quiet as I watch him work on my hands, unable to bring myself to discuss it. "You know, I get nightmares too."

My head snaps up at the comment. I've only really gotten to know my Dad these past months, but not once has he ever mentioned nightmares before. "What about?"

"New York, and losing Pepper—and you—to threats that I can't protect you from." He pauses for a moment. "I wake up and then I'm terrified to go back to sleep. So, most times, I work because I feel like if I get my mind off of it—"

"—It will stop haunting you." I finish for him. "Yeah, I know that feeling."

He nods and holds on to my now bandaged hands in his. "I know you still have nightmares about the accident and what happened after to Henry. Was was it this time?"

I shake my head and fight back the tears. "It was—it was so real. I felt everything so much more vividly this time. The pain, the restraints, the cold—they were all so real."

"Tell me what happened, bug, please." He requests so softly, and so, despite the tears, I tell him each and every detail that I can recall. By the time I finish, there's a look of horror and disgust on his face. Something else lingers in his expression, but I can't quite place it. "It was just a dream, Lia. C'mon, let's see if we can't get your mind off of it for a while."

I smile in appreciation that he knows sleep is the last thing I want right now. Instead, he spends the night on the couch with me watching TV with me until the rest of the world starts its day. And we return back to our usual worries and troubles—like school and how to keep the Avengers from becoming criminals.

The hours tick by in a blur. My classes go by in a haze broken up with concern from Peter about my bandaged hands—which are almost entirely healed by now, and the moment I get home I run to the lab to focus on what Dad asked me to do. "Any progress, bug?" He asks as he rounds the corner, and I hold up a finger as I type a few more commands into the computer.

"Not yet, but I think I'm getting close," I mumble and continue to search through the mass of metadata flooding my screen. "Cap, Bucky, and the others are top notch. They know how to stay off the grid and away from anything that could track them. But I'm good too. So it's only a matter of time before we find out who's better."

He chuckles at the comment and ruffles my hair. I glare at him and brush it back into place and over my scar. It's only then that I notice he's dressed for a meeting. "You going somewhere?"

"In a bit, yes." He replies as he cleans the lenses of his colored sunglasses. "I was hoping to see if you would have a lead first."

I give him a look and gesture to the chair beside me. "Feel free to lend a hand if you're in a rush, but you should give me some credit. I've gotten farther than most of the professional analysts have."

My computer pings and cuts my dad off before he can say a sassy remark. "I knew that prediction algorithm would come in handy," I smirk, and Dad returns it with an added look of pride. "If I'm right—which I usually am—it looks like they're heading to Germany. Schkeuditz to be exact. I put an alert program on all known aliases for them and anyone they may turn to for help, and it looks like Clint used an old alias to secure a helicopter at the Leipzig airport. He must not think anyone will catch it because they're set to take off this afternoon."

He kisses my forehead and pulls me into a tight hug. "I knew you could do it, bug. You're a genius just like me." I chuckle and shake my head at him. "Do me a favor and send me and the team the details. I've got a potential recruit to meet."

I turn to him in shock. "Recruit?"

Dad nods, which makes me realize I must have said it aloud. "Don't worry, bug. It's just that Spider-boy I had you track down earlier. He might help us surprise Steve. Besides, no one could replace my favorite future Avenger."

"Okay." I barely manage with a smile and watch as he goes. My heart feels like it's trying to tunnel it's way out of my chest. This is it. He's going to recruit Peter for this. I've officially pulled my best friend into this mess, and it means I'll have another huge secret to actively keep from him.

The list of things I can't tell my best friend just seems to be growing—that I'm Tony Stark's daughter, everything about the car accident and the Henry incident, and now that I'm Phantom. I rest my head against the work table and question Fate on how she could possibly make my life any more complicated.