After a year of drifting through the quiet desperation of small-town streets, a quiet anonymity, people noticed. Not the kindness of strangers, not charity, but the absence of anyone noticing *me*. I was just… there, wandering alone. They found me, and within weeks, I was swept into foster care, dragged to New York to meet my new “family.” It all happened so fast, a blur of paperwork and smiles. I still don't understand why. And I definitely didn't show them what I could do. Not yet.
The couple who adopted me were… polite. For the first few weeks. They bought me everything, new clothes, toys, anything I wanted. Then they adopted me, and something changed. A distance settled between us. They worked long hours, came home exhausted, and retreated into their own routines. I was left alone. A lot. I went to school, thankfully starting kindergarten on time, walked there by myself. They never talked to me much. It wasn’t neglect, exactly. They just… existed around me.
I didn’t mind, not really. Loneliness was familiar. It was comfortable. I had friends at school, went to their houses sometimes, but mostly, I was alone. They gave me everything, though. Spoiled me, like that was their only way of showing affection. Anything I wanted. But I didn’t want much. As the years went on, we talked more. I guess I got somewhat closer to them, but not by much. They did seem to care, but they cared more about their jobs.
Finally, at fifteen, I got my learner’s permit. But no one was ever around to supervise my practice drives. So, I drove myself illegally. It was… liberating. To get away from the emptiness, to just *go* anywhere.
That's where everything started unraveling.
One night, driving down a deserted stretch of highway, a car swerved into my lane. It happened so fast. Instinct took over. I unleashed my power, a shield of force that enveloped the car, absorbing the impact. The shock hit me long after the crash, and I didn’t let go until a few minutes later. When I finally lowered the force, I climbed out of the wreckage, relieved to find the other drivers were unharmed. I helped them out of their cars, but then I saw them staring. And someone was filming.
Shit. They must have seen what I did.
Panic clawed at my throat. I bolted into the shadows, adrenaline pumping. I used my phone to find a bus route back home, and went home without a scratch on me.
I couldn't go back there. I couldn't let them see me.
I got home, the house dark and silent. Of course, no one was home. They always worked late. I sat down on my bed and opened up YouTube to calm my nerves. It didn’t work.
My video was trending. Me. Using my power. The idiot uploaded it. The footage wasn’t clear, thank God, just a blurry shape, but it was enough. People knew I was out there.
What was I going to do?
*Y/N, it’s okay. Just breathe.*
When I get stressed, I lock down the house, cover the windows, and practice my powers. It’s a way to stay sharp, to prepare for… this.
I did that now, starting with small bursts of force, then building it up, shaping it around objects, moving them with a flick of my wrist, and finally, encasing myself in a shimmering bubble.
***
Meanwhile, at Shield Headquarters in New York…
“The hell are the Sokovia Accords?!” Fury roared into the phone, when Hill came running in.
“Nick, you need to see this,” Hill said, handing him a tablet. The video of Y/N was playing, the grainy footage looping on repeat. Fury hung up the phone and grabbed the tablet, studying it intently. He picked up the phone again.
“Captain, you’re going to want to see this,” he said.
Steve Rogers arrived at Shield headquarters at Fury’s request. They sat down in a conference room, and Nick pulled up the video on a large screen. He paused on the clearest shot of Y/N’s face, and looked to Steve, who was thinking.
“We are running tests on who this individual is,” Fury informed him.
“Have we ever heard of her?” Steve asked.
“Nothing like her. But once we find her, we are gonna try to bring her here. She could be a real asset to the team, or what is left of it,” he said.
“I’m not going to sign them. It’s not right for them to stop us if there is trouble. The world needs us,” Steve said, standing up.
“I hear ya, Mr. Righteous, but it’s not our place to decide these things. Not anymore.”
“This won’t end well,” Steve sighed.
“I know. You’re all so damn stubborn,” Fury said with a small chuckle.
Meanwhile, Tony Stark was making recruitments for his own team. He knew this wouldn’t end well, either. He drove to Peter Parker’s house, hoping to recruit the kid, Spiderman, to his side. He needed every advantage he could get if he had to fight Cap.