Bright, sterile, aggressive white lights greet me alongside the frantic beeping of the heart monitor. I open my eyes with a gasp and instantly screw them back shut. The flash of light feels like hot daggers going into my eyes. Everything hurts. It feels like someone dumped molten lead into my bones and left me to die from the pain.

My lungs start to constrict as the post-supernova panic settles in. The machine starts to beep more frantically as my heart rate picks up. Everything is fuzzy around the edges. I can't focus on anything as it all is lost in the giant haze of shadows and basic shapes.

A blanket drapes over my shoulders with a pair of strong arms holding it and me. "Deep breaths, Lia." Dad whispers into my hair. I focus on the sound of his voice, the scratchy sheets in my clenched fists, and the comfort of Dad's presence—anything to distract me from the raging pain in my skull and body.

"Good job. Just take a deep breath in and release." Dad coaches, and I struggle to follow event he simple instructions as he rubs calming circles on beneath my shoulders. "It's gonna be okay. You're okay now."

"No." I croak, my throat and voice raw. "I'm not. It's getting worse."

Neither of us speak as the words settle between us. Dad passes me my heavily tinted glasses without a word. We're too scared to talk about it, to admit the horrifying truth. Although, my need to know outweighs my fear. "How bad?" I ask, still keeping my eyes screwed shut even though I have my glasses now.

"Twenty-feet, knocked out power for fifty. " He lets out a heavy sigh. "You really had me scared there for a minute, bugs. You were out for nearly seven hours. How are you feeling now?"

"I'm—I'm fine." I stutter and tug at the wires connected to my body. "I just—just really need some air." Dad watches me as I practically run out of the room.

Everything aches and hurts. My head spins and each breath feels harder than the last. I collapse with my hands on my knees after having sprinted haphazardly through the maze of hallways.

Something twists in my chest, and I can feel the shadows pooling in the corners ready to embrace and aid me at a moments notice. My hand runs along the darkened areas of the wall, feeling the shift in energy pulsing beneath my fingertips.

It's like a drug in my veins, better than any kind of medication they could give me. After a long moment, my energy is beyond what it was before. The smell of cleaner fills my nose as I survey the large, open room. Inside is a wide assortment of equipment, from targets to punching bags, boxing rings to climbing ropes, and a multitude of things I can't name.

A part of me is drawn to the wide open space with the mat lined floor. It makes me miss my gymnastic days. The times when I spent every spare moment training, pushing myself harder in hopes of another medal, and the rush of the competitions, even the disastrous ones.

Although, the memory draws up the things that sent me over the edge.

I shake my head to push it aside as I slip my socks off and test the give of the mats. It's been an eternity since I tried anything like this. Muscle memory takes over as I curl my toes and tap my foot against the mat. Once, run, jump, tuck, and twist. Just like it used to be, until the landing.

The second my right foot hits the mat, I crumble.

Pain radiates from my toes through my hip, and I can practically feel the healed fracture pulsing. I flex my jaw as I push myself back to my feet, beyond the pain. Maybe it was stupid of me to try one of my moves after so long, but I couldn't resist knowing if I still could. Now, I resort to a simple round-off and salto routine. It's not the same feeling of accomplishment; but still something though.

My thoughts are pulled back to reality by the slow claps that echo through the whole room. "Tony wasn't exaggerating. You are talented." I look up at the platform to see the one and only Black Widow, aka Natasha Romanov, one of my heroes looking down at me with a small grin. "Glad to see you up and at it. Your dad was worried when Steve brought you in after—whatever happened."

"Yeah, that was a bit of an accident," I mumble as I try to hide the tremor in my arms at the sudden panic and adrenaline that rises in my throat. This is one of the moments I've been so excited for but simultaneously dreading. Tony has told me so many amazing things about the Avengers, and their reputation has preceded even that. "I'm Lia, by the way. Although, I'm sure you already knew that."

"I did. Tony was bragging you about you from the moment he heard you were coming. Plus, you look a lot like him." I try to hide my shock that he would actually think to mention me, but deep down, I know he's proud; he just has a complicated way of showing it. She smiles as she nods her head over her shoulder. "So, you ready to meet the rest of the team?"

A nervous laugh rushes past my lips before I can stop it. "Not really?" I tell her as I tug my sleeves over my fingers. "I don't really want to deal with the looks. I'm pretty sure I haven't made the best first impression. You know, arguing with my dad, blowing up—quite literally, and—yeah."

"Trust me, most of us haven't made very good first impressions. You have nothing to worry about, Lia." Natasha smiles at me, and for a split second, I believe her. Maybe they won't hate me, or stare, or think of me as some anti-social, gifted freak. "Come on, I'm sure they're just as anxious to meet you as you are them."

I feel my lungs scrunching up as I follow Natasha through the winding hallways to the common area reserved for the Avengers. Dad is already there, likely waiting for me, and offers me an encouraging smile. I try to return it, but there's still the argument lingering between us.

Luckily, other people start to take notice of my presence. Steve smiles at me as he sets the towel down on the counter and turns his attention away from his cooking. "So, this is the famous Lia, I suppose?" He asks my dad, but his attention is on me the whole time. I try not to let my smile fall when he extends a hand, "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Steve."

My shoulder instinctively curls forward as I once again pull my sleeves over my fingers. "I'm sorry I really can't—I can't shake your hand," I explain with a sad smile, but he doesn't seem fazed by it. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Rogers—Steve." I correct myself. "I've heard quite a bit about you. All of you actually."

"Well, they've heard every good thing imaginable about you," Rhodey calls as he stands next to Steve. "Tony wouldn't stop bragging about his brilliant daughter."

"I prefer the term 'exceptionally gifted,' but I suppose brilliant will do." I retort with a smile; a sliver of tension rolling out of my shoulders. "It's good to see you again, Uncle Rhodey."

"Come on, Lia. Let's get you acquainted with the rest of the team." Nat interrupts as she and Steve walk me around the quarters making sure I get the chance to become acquainted with everyone. Within minutes of the first introductions, they all make me feel like an integral part of the team.

"Your dad mentioned you had abilities?" Wanda asks as we sit together on the couch once everyone has gone back to doing their own thing. It's obvious that she understands the emotions I've been attempting to shield away. There's no ounce of fear in her as she reaches out and places a hand on my shoulder. It takes everything in me not to freak out at the gesture as she asks, "Do you mind if I ask what they are?"

"Not really," I tell her, feeling more confident and comfortable around someone whose abilities could be relatives to my own. Not to mention the lack of fear that she displays; she doesn't see the danger, just me.

It brings a smile to my face as I wonder if maybe this is what it would have been like to have a sibling. "I—um—how do I phrase it? I can control and manipulate shadows. They will change based on what I want them to be, solidify, evaporate, whatever I want. It'd probably be easier to show you sometime." I whisper as I nervously check where everyone is in the room and adjust my glasses.

Wanda nods, clearly intrigued, but her eyes are patiently waiting for the rest of the truth. "What about the power you're hiding from? The one that caused a crater outside and you to be so scared?" She questions after a long moment of silence as she drapes her arm over the back of the couch. "Trust me, Lia, I know what it's like. My advice? You can't let that fear control you; if you do, there will be nothing left in its wake. You'll just wake up one day to find you're gone."

"What else am I supposed to do with a literal explosive power that I can't control or understand? I've hurt people, and I'm terrified it will happen again." I tell her as I pick at my nail polish, which is pretty much gone at this point. "Everyone wants me to get better at handling it, but none of us can even explain it. I get upset, the emotions consume me and with them the—the energy, and the next thing I know, I've gone supernova. I'm like a dying star. I live fully and brightly until one day I become too much for myself and go out in a blazing burst."

"I don't think it's scary. In fact, I think it's beautiful."

"You wouldn't think that if you were there when—" the alleyway flashes into my mind for a split second, which snuffs out the words before they reach my tongue. "—never mind."

"At least you're here now. You're part of the team, and we will do everything we can to help you learn and grow. I never saw myself here, but I am and happier than I ever thought possible."

"Maybe I'll be just as lucky," I reply before chaining the subject as some of the other team members start to join back into the conversation.

I look around the room, taking in the faces of the people who are now going to become my trainers, friends, and who knows what else. All that I know is I hope all of us can make it through in one piece, but only time will tell.