[ LIA ]

When Lia first realized she was awake, everything was too bright. At first, she thought that she was dreaming - she was back home, safe in bed, after all. But the light wouldn't stop searing her corneas. The white, blinding light. Lia lifted her arms to rub her aching eyes. Or well, she tried to. But her hands wouldn't move. She tried again, feeling cold metal press against her wrist.

Panic closed off her throat and her eyes ripped open. Lia sat up - at least she was able to do that much.

The room was sparse. Stark white walls with metal floors and fluorescent lights. Her reflection staring back at her from one of the walls. Lia quickly averted her eyes, not wanting to see the dark shadows and pain that she knew would haunt her face. Probably a one-way mirror, Lia thought as she looked down.

She was sitting on a metal table, her wrists locked onto it with cuffs. She shivered. It was cold in here. Probably as a precaution against her... heat-inducing abilities.

Lia took a shaky breath, closing her eyes and crossing her legs under herself. She was going to stay calm. Whoever was watching wasn't getting anything from her.

And someone was definitely watching.

There was no room for fear or panic. She'd always know this would happen someday. They couldn't stay under the radar forever. Someday they'd be caught and charged for the crimes they'd inherited. The least she could do was make it as difficult as possible for whoever had imprisoned her.

What happened? she asked herself, trying to ignore the pulsing that had suddenly started in her head. All she could remember was heat. And voices. Too many voices. It had overwhelmed her. Lia gritted her teeth as flames licked her shoulders. Appearing out of thin air as usual. The warmth wasn't as comforting as one would expect, even in the cool air. She had no idea where they came from, or why. Or how to control them.

Her eyes flickered from the walls - which gave her zero clues on where she was - to the mirror. She looked away again, but after a second, gritted her teeth and turned back. She'd have to look eventually.

Across from her sat a girl, pale and looking as if death itself had tried to meet with her. Her clothes here ripped - and even fried in some places. Her hair stuck up everywhere. Lia tried to run a hand through it, biting her lip as cool metal bit into her skin. Dark circles, almost like bruises, hung under this girl's eyes. Her haunted eyes. She wasn't sure if the girl looked defiant or terrified. Maybe a little bit of both. But exhausted. She looked so, so exhausted.

Lia looked away, her gaze returning to the cuffs that chained her to this insufferable piece of metal. They were simple, bands of steel or aluminum or something of that sort.

With a resigned sigh, Lia called fire to her hands, watching as the flames danced and swayed like dancers. At least she had that level of control. She could summon her power as she wished, but she could never put it back. She could start the burning but never stop it.

Lia concentrated on the cuffs, pulling every once of the heat within her to create a stream of fire.

Her eyes didn't water and her face stayed blank, even as the intense heat bathed her visage. They were nothing compared to what she had endured before. Sparks compared to the infernos she had unleashed.

But the cuffs wouldn't melt.

"They're made of vibranium, that won't work," said a voice.

Lia's head shot up. A woman with bright red hair stood in front of her, a mechanical door sliding closed to blend perfectly into the wall behind her.

"Who are you?" Lia asked, her voice soft and hoarse. She winced. This woman looked familiar. So, so familiar.

The woman didn't answer. She strode forward calmly, her bright green eyes never leaving Lia's.

Lia shrank back as she approached, her heart beating so loud she was sure that the woman could hear. Fire flickered all over her body. With each heartbeat, it grew. But the woman was undeterred. She walked until she was standing right in front of Lia and placed on hand on the table. Lia's squeezed her eyes shut, trying as hard as she could not to flinch.

She'd spent enough sleepless nights imagining what they'd do to her and Zoe if they ever found them. Nothing could be worse than her predictions.

But that didn't stop her from trembling.

There was a soft click.

Tentatively, cautiously, Lia opened her eyes a bit. They flew open when she realized what the woman had done. The cuffs were gone; Her hands were free.

"Sorry about those. You wouldn't stay on the table and you burned through any sort of thing we tried to prop you up with. Same for the room. You burned through a normal bedroom, so we put you in here." There was no hint of dishonesty in her voice, but Lia regarded her suspiciously nonetheless. And they just have fireproof rooms lying around? Not likely.

Lia kept her gaze on the woman, rubbing her wrists despite the lack of marks on them. "Who are you?" she asked again. Something itched in her brain. She knew this woman. But the hair, the eyes, the complexion.... something was off.

"That's not important," the woman responded with a wry smile on her face. "Who are you?"

"That's not important," Lia replied in an identical tone. "What have you done with my sister?" She felt a stab of pain at the thought of Zoe. Worry twisted her stomach into a ball of knots.

"So you two are siblings," the woman murmured. "How'd you get your powers?"

"Why are we here?" Lia countered. "We didn't do anything wrong."

"I'll cut you a deal," the woman said calmly. "I'll answer three of your questions and then you answer three of mine - truthfully, of course."

Lia regarded her warily. Then, after a moment, she nodded. "I get to go first."

The woman shrugged, crossing her arms. "By all means, go ahead?"

"What have you done with- with my sister?" Lia demanded immediately, stopping herself at the last moment from saying 'Zoe'. I'm not giving them anything.

"We haven't done anything with her. She's in another room nearby."

Lia opened her mouth, then closed it. Think, think you idiot. You have three questions - well, two now. Don't waste them. "Who are you?"

"I'm Natasha," she said simply. "An agent."

Lia's eyes went wide as the pieces clicked in her mind. That's why she looked so familiar. Natasha. Natasha Romanoff. She'd studied the Avengers' face for more hours than she could count, but somehow she hadn't recognized her. Her hair is longer. And her face is different. Indeed, the assassin's face was longer, thinner, her gaze sharper than in the photos Lia had endlessly scanned. Such simple things somehow had concealed the truth from her until this moment.

Lia swallowed, her hands shaking. She gripped the table in an attempt to keep them steady, something Natasha took in with cool disinterest. "Natasha Romanoff." Natasha nodded slowly, one eyebrow arched. "Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D." Natasha nodded again. "The Avengers." Another nod. Lia swore under her breath, her heart rate increasing. "This is not happening." Natasha kept silent.

It's funny, how nightmares come true just as much as dreams. Oh, the two are more different than night and day, it's true, and yet they're separated by such a thin line. It takes only an hour for the moon to transform into the sun. They blur together like good and evil. Like hope and despair. Like reality and dreams. And Lia was really, really wishing at the fine line between reality and dreams would blur just the little bit that she needed. If only she could wake up from this nightmare that was coming true.

Lia looked up from under her lashes, trying to fight the swirling in her stomach. This is not happening. After all that had happened, after everything that they'd be through...

The Universe was so, so cruel.

"Why are we here?" Lia finally asked after what seemed like hours of agonizing silence. "Me and my sister. What do you people want with us?"

Natasha's eyebrows raised for a second before they smoothed out again. "We're just curious. We were in the area when the two of you... well, exploded. That sort of thing grabs your attention."

"Why were you in the area?" Lia asked, her eyes narrow.

But Natasha just shook her head. "You had your three questions. Now it's my turn."

Lia pressed her lips together, taking a deep breath to stop herself from screaming. Fire rolled down her arms, dancing despite the lack of wind. With another deep breath, she drew them in, feeling the warmth radiating from her skin.

"What's your and your sister's full names?" Natasha asked.

She considered not answering for a second. Why should she? She didn't owe them anything. She could have lied. Zoe could be under interrogation in the room over, her screams muted by the sound-proof walls.

Don't do it, the rational part of her brain argued.

But Natasha had answered her questions. She could be lying through her teeth if what Lia had read about her skills were true, but....

Maybe it was worth a try.

It's not.

And they had Zoe. Who knew what they might do to her if she didn't answer.

Natasha had told the truth about her name, at least. Lia could do the same.

So through gritted teeth, Lia answered, "Lia and Zoe Lavey." She left out their middle names. Full names be damned, she wasn't giving them everything.

Natasha gave her a short nod. "How did you get your powers?"

"A freak accident," Lia said simply, her words clipped.

It took a good few minutes before Natasha spoke again. Lia kept her eyes on the red-haired woman, clenching her hands tightly. As the minutes dragged out, she could feel the air slowly warming around her.

Deep breaths, just take deep breaths, she thought to herself. But there was still a knot in the pit of her stomach that kept the room much hotter than normal.

"Have you ever heard of hydra?" Natasha finally asked.

Lia looked at her as if she had two heads. There was something about the way she said it... "Like the animal or the Greek monster?"

"Thank you," Natasha said. She turned and made for the door.

"Wait!" Lia wasn't sure why exactly she let the words fall out of her lips. The woman was finally leaving her, wasn't that a good thing? "Where are you going?"

The edges of Natasha's lips twitched. "Out this door."

Lia opened her mouth, unsure exactly of what she wanted to say. "How long am I going to be here?" she finally asked.

"I'm not sure," Natasha said. She gave Lia a short nod. "I'll be back soon though." And with that, she turned around, the door sliding open as she neared it. It slid close with a smooth click, sealing Lia in.

She sat there for a second, her mouth still open. She closed it with a snap, her mind swirling and all the time in the world in front of her.

🔥🔥🔥

[ THIRD PERSON ]
[ EARLIER ]

"She's awake," Bruce said hurriedly. The second the words were out of his mouth, he was turning, the white lab coat whipping back and forth.

"What?" exclaimed Clint, pushing off the wall he had been leaning on. "And you just leave?"

"Hurry up," Bruce said, either ignoring or not hearing Clint. Most likely the former.

By the time they had all assembled, the girl was sitting up.

"She must be terrified," Claire Barton whispered, her eyes sad. Clint put an arm around his daughter.

Dark hair, large, dark eyes, and a thoughtful expression made up her visage. One very similar to her adopted father.

"She'll be fine," he said. But his face was also troubled.

"I'm going in," Natasha said briskly, tapping the communications device in her ear to make sure it was working.

Before she could move, Leslie Barton, Clint's other adopted daughter, touched her shoulder. "Go easy on her. She's terrified."

"You can feel her from here?" Steve asked, his eyebrows raised.

Leslie nodded after a minute, closing her eyes. "Her emotions are... so strong." Her eyes flew open and she let out a bitter laugh. "A bit overwhelming honestly."

She sat down, rubbing her forehead. Being an Empath was always challenging, especially with so many people around. After all, everything they felt, she felt. But what she was feeling off the girl... she had never felt anything that desperate and that strong.

Natasha gave a short nod. "Keep me updated on her emotional shifts." Then she turned away and walked out of the observing room.

All eyes turned to the one-way mirror, staring at the red-haired girl inside.

"Pyrokinetic," Claire whispered, leaning into her father as the girls' hands lit up.

"She and the other girl look like siblings," Pietro said.

"They have matching DNA," Bruce responded, his eyes flickering between the mirror and the screen in front of him.

"How do you think she got her powers?" Wanda asked.

"I wonder if she was experimented on," Pietro said.

"They. They both have the same powers, it seems. The other girl is the one who was protecting this one." Like Claire, Wanda's eyes were wide and troubled. "She is the one who we talked to."

Pietro opened his mouth (perhaps to comment on the fact that they hadn't exactly talked to her), but Steve shushed him. "Natasha's entering the room, be quiet."

"They're made of vibranium, that won't work," came Natasha's voice over the speakers. The girl straightened.

"Who are you?"

"She sounds awful," Claire murmured mournfully. Leslie touched her arm.

They watched as Natasha approached the girl.

"Be careful," Steve warned. "She's volatile, you know that."

Natasha kept advancing.

"They must have been through a lot," Wanda murmured as the girl flinched.

No one responded. Each one of them picturing the difficult journey that had brought them to this room.

"Sorry about those. You wouldn't stay on the table and you burned through any sort of thing we tried to prop you up with. Same for the room. You burned through a normal bedroom, so we put you in here."

Pietro blew out a breath. "She's a super spy, no? Why is she telling the girl everything about us?"

"Be quiet," Wanda scolded gently. "She's just trying to make her feel more comfortable."

"Who are you?" They looked back at the girl.

Natasha smiled wryly. "That's not important. Who are you?"

Pietro turned to Wanda, an eyebrow raised. "You were saying?" Wanda smacked his shoulder lightly.

"That's not important," the girl responded. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment. "What have you done with my sister?" On a reflex, it seemed, she tentatively touched her stomach.

"So you two are siblings. How'd you get your powers?"

"She is not going to get anywhere," Pietro huffed, starting to pace.

"Why are we here?" the girl asked. "We didn't do anything wrong."

Steve shook his head. He turned to speak more directly into the microphone that connected with Natasha's coms. "Natasha, try to make her trust you more. She's not going to open up."

"Like Pietro said," Leslie muttered. "She's a super spy. Don't you think she already knows that?"

Either ignoring her comment or simply not having heard it, Stev turned to her and asked, "What's she feeling?" His face was a mask of calm, but sorrow burned behind his eyes.

"The same dread as before. Frustration. Confusion. And fear. She's terrified. Probably for her sister - there's a loving edge to it."

A loving edge to fear? Steve wondered. Is that even possible? As memories of beaming smiles and carnival lights bubbled up from a past he'd buried, he knew it most definitely was.

"Try bargaining," Clint said from where he was leaning against the wall. Always leaning against the wall.

"Also guys," Leslie cut in, "please stop feeling so much. It's getting confusing."

"Hilarious," Pietro said, rolling his eyes. Tap, tap, tap went his foot. Leslie shot him a glare that would have made daggers jealous.

"I'll cut you a deal. I'll answer three of your questions and then you answer three of mine - truthfully, of course."

"So distrustful," Clarie murmured as the girl regarded Natasha with an impressive amount of suspicion in her gaze.

Finally, the girl nodded. "I get to go first." Or I'm not doing this was the unsaid threat.

"By all means, go ahead."

"Yes," Claire breathed. "Go, Nat."

Wanda elbowed Pietro, smirking.

"Clint was the one who suggested it," her brother grumbled, scooting away from his twin.

"It's a miracle Natasha manages to keep a straight face," Clint said under his breath to Steve, who nodded.

"What have you done with- with my sister?"

"Jeez." Leslie rubbed her forehead. "This girl radiates more anxiety and distrust than Dad when Nat came up to him in the middle of the prank war."

Even the memories of the many infamous prank war (which had involved a lot of glitter, a few live cows, and a lot of foul language) didn't bring a smile to anyone's face.

"We haven't done anything with her. She's in another room nearby."

"Has she woken up yet?" Steve asked Bruce.

The doctor shook his head, finally looking up from the holographic interface. "No. I'm not sure if she's sleeping or in an exhaustion-induced comatose state. She's completely unresponsive."

When the girl spoke again, all eyes turned at the same time, like a cheesy animated show. "Who are you?"

"You should tell her," Leslie suggested. "Seriously. She's no closer to trusting you than before."

Steve gave her a nod. "But keep it vague."

"She excels at that," Pietro muttered to himself.

"I'm Natasha. An agent."

The girl's eyes went wide.

"Oh," Leslie moaned, leaning over, clutching her chest. She rocked back and forth. "Oh."

"What's wrong?" Clint demanded, kneeling next to her.

"Her heart rate is increasing dramatically," Bruce said, an edge of panic in his tone. "And the temperature in the room is rising.

"Natasha Romanoff. Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. The Avengers."

"She must have interacted with us or S.H.I.E.L.D in the past," Claire mused. "She made that connection fast."

"It is not a secret that Romanoff worked for S.H.I.E.L.D before joining the Avengers," Pietro countered.

"Leslie, are you okay?" Steve asked, his eyes flickering between the girl and Leslie.

Leslie didn't respond, her breath coming out strangled.

"Leslie?" Clint asked, his voice panicked. He pushed off the wall to kneel next to her.

Without a word, she stood up and strode out of the room.

Claire grabbed her father and he rose to follow her. "Let her be. She needs a moment."

"This is not happening."

"She really does not like us," Pietro said wryly.

Clint looked between his eldest daughter and the door, concern and pain written on his face.

But he let Claire pull him onto a chair next to her. He let her gently turn his face away from the door and toward the one-way mirror. Together, father and daughter watched the girl who had thrown such a wrench in their already chaotic lives.

A/N

I've decided to include author's notes from now at the end of the chapters!

As annoying as it is to read (and write) the same thing twice, it's very important to see this scene from both Lia's perspective and from behind the glass! Foreshadowing and stuff. 

Leslie is going to have such an interesting time with the twins, and I can't wait to show you guys what I've come up with for their relationship. She is such a unique character and I'm so excited to write her. And the twins.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know what you think!