Dragonet (Written by Solus Lupa)

Author's Note: I hope you find this entertaining.

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Mark's Addition: Prepare a long-ish period of time to read this. It'a rather long short story.

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Chapter 1

                          ...

            And if you can’t tell

              I’m a restless girl

         What are you hearing?

                          ...

The wind swished my dark brown brown hair as I ran defensively with the soccer ball. Three girls on my left started to close in and my vision zeroed on the goal ten feet away. I swiftly juked the players along with the goalie simultaneously and powerfully kicked the soccer ball into the net. The coach blew the whistle and my teammates briefly gathered to congratulate me. “That was an impressive play,” marveled one of the girls named Hailey. Several more agreed and I smiled. We resumed our usual positions and the whistle blew again, signaling the start of the new round. Hailey passed the ball to a girl on her right who passed it up to another and I ran as fast as my petite legs could go. The girl passed the ball to me without hesitation. I immediately took control and ran for a few yards before passing the ball back to Hailey, who scored. My teammates took turns highfiveing her as the whistle blew and the opposite team dejectedly kicked the ball to center. If this was a real game, then we would be making the opposing team into some serious whipped cream. Every summer, I joined a girl’s soccer league. Many of the girls in my group I’ve known since I’ve started, which was five years ago.

After the soccer ball was in its rightful place, we all broke off and headed to the bleaches for a thirty minute break. I slumped on a bench and rifled through my duffle bag till I found my water bottle and the latest book I was reading: The Sword of Summer. Ever since we started studying Norse mythology in school, I decided to read the Magnus Chase books to give myself a little extra information.

I sipped my water and started on chapter five. I glanced over at the other girls. They were talking in huddled groups and checking up on their social media statuses on their phones. I sighed and focused back on my book. 

It seemed like only two seconds, but half an hour later the coach blew the whistle and I slid my origami book marker into my spot in the chapter. We all flowed back onto the soccer field and got into our positions. When the game started, I ran to the side of the field in an open spot; a pass option. As I waited, watching my team sprint across the field with the ball, something whooshed near my head. I waited, then shrugged it off, assuming it was nothing. I was wrong. Searing pain spread through my head, sharp and splintering. It felt like someone was jabbing a thousand knives into my brain and soaking my scalp in warm water at the same time. I felt my neurological nerves constrict and twist, as if my brain was trying to make itself into the shape of a horse or something. I screamed in agony, clutching my head and falling to my knees. The teams heard my cry and rushed over. “Autumn, what’s wrong?” The coach asked urgently. I bit my lip but couldn’t speak. “Talk to me!” The coach grabbed my shoulders. “Cora, call 911!” Cora ran for the bleachers while another girl poured some water into my mouth. I coughed and tried to swallow, but choked it up along with a sickening green and orange liquid. The girls stared in horror at the scene, and Cora came running back, reporting that 911 had been contacted. I continued to wail in pain, while everyone else tried to calm me before the ambulance arrived. Suddenly, a noise crept across the field. It was a subtle ticking noise, but somehow I knew what it meant. “Run!” I managed to scream out. The girls didn’t need to be told twice. They sprinted, but they only managed to make it a couple hundred yards before the field exploded.

Twenty minutes before, in North Korea, the middle-aged Korean general stood in front of his large window, gazing out at the training troops. A sick smile curled at his lips as one of his scientists burst into his office, announcing the successful launch of the general’s experimental mutant serum.

“Excellent,” the general sneered, turning to look at the scientist with cold dark eyes.

The scientist continued, “The Dragon’s Blood has also made contact with an American . . . A teenage girl.”

“What?” The general hissed. “Show me!” The scientist scurried over to the large computer screen mounted on the wall and typed something complicated on his tablet. Instantly, a live video feed came through of a dark haired girl playing in a soccer skirmish. The general turned to the scientist and raised an eyebrow. The scientist shrugged helplessly. “The serum was launched randomly, sir. It has soon to take affect.”

“Good,” the general said. He ran his hand through his military buzz cut. “And the volunteer?”

“He is ready and standing by, General Xang,” the scientist replied.

General Xang grinned wickedly. “Begin the process.”

A terrible ringing noise burned through my head as I slowly gained consciousness. I hardly remembered what had happened. I had a vague memory of pain, then an explosion followed by screams, then finally a military jet and being carried inside by a man in a tight red, white, and blue outfit. Then I had blacked out.

I tried to open my eyes, but it felt like they were glued shut. I was too tired to push, so I laid there (wherever “there” was), fully awake but eyes still closed and breathing still slow and ragged. About half an hour later, I mustered enough strength to peel open my eyes and scan my surroundings. I was in a very large and sunlit living area, lying on one of four orange sofas. The walls were smooth white, with one made of steel and at least two more were fully made of glass, overlooking a vast green field, a long, gravel driveway, and a lush pine forest in the background. I concluded I was in a modern mansion, but why? I began to sit up, but only then did I notice I wasn’t wearing my soccer uniform. Instead I was dressed in a long pale blue hoodie with black ankle-length leggings and white Converse. My hair was still in its French braid, but I felt clean, as if I had showered. I was still creeped out by the fact that not only was I in a strange place, but also dressed in strange clothes. That meant that someone had to clothe and bathe me . . . I pushed that thought far, far away. I swung my toned legs over the side of the couch, but I froze like a deer in headlights when someone cleared their throat in front of me. “You probably shouldn’t sit up yet,” said a teenage boy’s voice. I slowly lifted my eyes to the voice’s source, and was surprised. Standing against the far wall was a boy that looked to be about my age with short, unruly brown hair, brown eyes, and a faint sprinkling of freckles across his nose and cheeks. He wore a red hoodie, jeans, and black Converse. A cocky grin was formed on his lips. I narrowed my eyes at him. I instinctively did not trust him. Especially since he was a stranger and was most likely connected to my kidnapping. I ignored his suggestion and sat up, crossing my arms. The boy’s annoying grin was still plastered on his face. I really wanted to slap him.

“Who are you?” I demanded. He flinched the tiniest bit at my sharp tone. “Peter Parker,” he answered.

I was a little taken aback by his honest answer. I knew that when someone kidnapped you or you met a stranger, they wouldn’t tell you their full name right away. “Um, sure. . .” I stated, slowly standing up. Shrill pain flooded through my torso and I gasped and winced in pain, clutching my side and flopping back on the couch. Peter’s grin disappeared and was replaced by a concerted look. He moved to sit down next to me. “The explosion did some damage to your body. . . you broke a few ribs and suffered from a coma for the past five days—“

“FIVE DAYS?” I shrieked. Peter literally jumped up and held up his hands in surrender. I took a deep breath then exhaled through my mouth. “Sorry,” I said. Peter relaxed and continued, “Yeah. . . you were out for five days. Your ribs are almost fully healed and, well, obviously you’re out of your coma. But, ummm, I think I might want to let Mr. Stark tell you exactly why you’re here. . .” 

“Ok.” I held up a hand. “So, from the hints you may or may not have purposefully dropped—“ Peter blushed “—I’m guessing I’m in the Avengers Compound.”

Peter winced. “Surprise.”

That is INSANE!” I yelled. I shot up ignoring the pain and stormed over to the door on the far side of the room. I heard Peter making a series of ‘ahems’ behind me but I blocked him out. Geez, that kid really got on my nerves.

Before I could open the steel door, it was opened for me, revealing a man in his mid thirties with extremely gelled black hair, a black goatee, and a black silk suit. He smiled at me and I shivered. “Well,” he said, “looks like our guest finally came back to the land of the living.”

“Who are you?” I snarled. The man chuckled. “Oh, please, there’s no need for that. Though, I am slightly hurt that you don’t recognize me.” He walked out of the doorway and moved over to a small glass table littered with papers and futuristic tech. The man leaned against it and smirked at me. “Tony Stark, pleased to meet you.”  He stuck out his hand. I shook it, giving him a questioning look. He chuckled again. “Why am I here?” I asked.

“Well, let’s start with the explosion,” said a new voice. I look over back to the doorway and saw a woman who was at most in her thirties with red hair and blue eyes, wearing a black leather jacket, a white V-neck, jeans, and boots.

“Nat.” Tony nodded his head. “You might be better at explaining this.”

The woman I now knew as Nat gave Tony a brief appreciative glance than walked over to us, stopping short a few feet in front of me. She tapped something on a rectangular computer screen looking piece of tech that was stuck on the middle of the glass table. Instantly, a holographic image of the Earth shimmered to life in between us. I raised an eyebrow, impressed. Nat smiled at me, then explained.

“A secret organization in North Korea called The Dragon’s Eye has been lurking in the shadows lately. We decided to be idiots and ignore them, since they weren’t doing anything suspicious yet. Then only a month ago we realized that they were working on something very out of the ordinary. The more we checked into it, the more impossible the results became.” She paused for a moment as Peter walked up to join us, then continued, “The Dragon’s Eye have been working on an experimental mutant serum called the Dragon’s Blood. It gives the user the ability to manipulate the elements, develop elite agility and fighting skills, and ultimately, shape shift into a dragon.”

I snorted. For an underground organization, that seemed a bit silly. Nat glanced at me, then continued. “This is really not something to take lightly. Somehow, The Dragon’s Eye’s leader and retired general, Shang Lu Xang, learned how to combine bat DNA, lizard DNA, and some magical residue from Loki’s staff to create a mutant serum. Lucky for you, this serum was just a test run, to make sure it worked. The actual serum is still in Xang’s lab, being injected into a volunteer named Viggo Ramirez. The modified serum also controls the user’s mind and gives Xang the advantage of controlling them.”

The holographic Earth was replaced by a close-up picture of a needle filled with the same green-orange liquid that I had regurgitated on the soccer field five days earlier. A list of information popped up next to the needle, along with a portrait of a middle-aged Korean man with a military haircut and narrow black eyes. Xang. Nat then went on to explain the different attack methods Xang’s men use, the high levels of tech used by his science labs, and most importantly, why he made the Dragon’s Blood. Apparently Shang Lu made the serum to inject into a volunteer and use them as a weapon for his country. Since I was injected with the unmodified version, my brain wasn’t poisoned by the mind controlling properties that would be used to Xang’s advantage. Viggo wasn’t so lucky. According to the Avengers’ observations, the Sokovian-American has recently been injected with Xang’s updated serum and was undergoing complicated training for his powers. Nat said that their mind-control methods were similar to HYDRA’s when they had taken captive Bucky—a man with a metal arm, shoulder-length black hair and startling blue eyes that joined us near the middle of Nat’s lecture—and used him as a worldwide assassin. The Dragon’s Eye’s mission was simple: use supernatural brainwashed mutants to help them achieve world domination. And the Avengers’ mission was simple: watch The Dragon’s Eye, gather as much information about the army as possible and figure out when and where their next attack will be. Unfortunately, that involved sneaking into their heavily guarded compound to see what The Dragon’s Eye ultimately plans to do with their two dragon mutants.

I was staring wide-eyed through all of this, hoping this was just a nightmare and I got hit in the head with the soccer ball. Unfortunately, luck was not on my side. When Nat finished, eight more adults plus an older teenage girl joined us and stared at me as if to say, This is her? Not exactly ‘Avenger’ material. I shrunk back and gulped. “Hi. . .”

“Well.” Mr. Stark stretched. “Autumn will be staying with us for an extensive amount of time. Wanda, you should probably show her her room.” He looked at me without expression. “You’ll be notified when dinner’s ready.”

I nodded and held back tears. I knew it would be a long time till I would see my family again.

                 Chapter 2

                  

                         ...

             It’s a new world

             It’s a new start

                         ...

The teen brunette Wanda was fairly nice. I could tell from her accent she was Sokovian, and from her young frame that she was probably a freshman in college. Which really wasn’t that much of an age difference since I was a junior in high school. She led me down long white, spruce and steel hallways, not really talking much but still being friendly. As we walked, I tried to make some small talk. “So. . . how long have you been an Avenger?”

Wanda hesitated. “Three years,” she said finally.

“Cool,” I said. We walked in silence. We passed more glass walls that gave us an outside view of the rest of the facility. Business people walked hurriedly two and fro, some wearing business suits while most others wore SWAT armor.

Wanda led me down a final hallway then stopped short in front of a steel door that looked like all the other doors in this huge place. I noted that there were several other doors in the spacious corridor. I guessed that this was the bedroom hallway. Wanda opened the door and I rethought thinking that I would hate this place.

The room was gray with high windows that gave it an almost futuristic feel. The floor was short black speckled carpet. A bed with a turquoise and white zigzag comforter was up against the far wall to the right of the door with a small widescreen TV mounted on the wall next to it. Up against the wall next to the door was a white desk with neat piles of art supplies, digital art and sketch pads, art books, and a laptop. Hanging from the ceiling were five Chinese lanterns. Against the wall opposite the door was a large, gray-violet L-shaped book shelf, stacked with hundreds upon hundreds of books. In the groove of the shelf was a dense blue beanbag. On the wall left of the book shelf was a closet.

As I walked in, taking in my surroundings, Wanda stopped by the closet and opened it. Inside were incredibly cool teen clothes that I was pretty sure I never owned. The color scheme ranged from dark, solid, to pastel colors. Which was good because I hated bright colors. Wanda looked like she could read my thoughts, which, I remembered with a start, she could do along with telekinesis. “We knew you were coming,” she explained, “so we decided to do some. . . remodeling. I chose the clothes.” She smirked like she was happy with herself. I was speechless. They went out of their way to make me a new home. I was actually beginning to get excited about staying here. I smiled. “Thanks,” I whispered. Wanda smiled back. “I’ll let you get settled in. My room’s next door if you need anything.” And with that, she closed the door.

I strode through the room, noticing the small details I overlooked. There were canvas paintings of cherry trees with Chinese writing next to them on the walls. I’m glad the Avengers found out I was of Chinese heritage. I walked over to flop on my new bed when my foot bumped against something. I looked down and saw that there was a black backpack sitting next to my bed. My black backpack. I dug through it and saw that my phone and Magnus Chase book were inside, along with my personal items. I put them all in their respective places. When I plugged the charger into my phone on my desk I saw a note no doubt written in Mr. Stark’s handwriting: Lights out are at 10:30 pm, breakfast is whenever you wake up, lunch is at 12:30 pm, dinner is at 6 pm. If you sneak out we have security cameras watching you. . .

I shuddered. Thankfully there were no cameras in my bedroom so the person manning them wouldn’t be cursed with watching me undress each day.

I picked up my Magnus Chase book, laid across my new bed, and continued on with chapter ten.

At least three hours later I had finished the book and an intercom device on the wall by the door buzzed and pretty soon a feminine voice came through. “Will all Avengers members, official and honorary, please come down to the dining room for dinner.” I groaned and fell across my bed. I wasn’t hungry and I didn’t want to see their faces after what I’ve just been through. Especially Peter.

I was probably laying on my bed for half an hour when someone knocked on my door and a voice said, “Autumn?”

I sighed, stood up, and opened the door to Wanda, her green eyes reflecting concernment. “Why aren’t you downstairs? Everyone’s eating dinner.”

“I’m not hungry,” I replied shortly.

Wanda’s eyes narrowed in annoyance, any trace of worry disappearing. “Tony sent me to come get you. Dinner started thirty minutes ago. And besides, you’ve been out for five days! Are you sure you’re not the least bit hungry?”

I looked down at my feet. “Kinda. . . I just don’t feel like being around people right now, you know? With what I’ve just found out and everything. . .”

Wanda visibly softened. “I understand.”

A thought suddenly struck me and I looked up at Wanda with wide eyes. “What about my parents?”

The Sokovian brunette looked at me with sympathy. “Hm, Stark will be better at explaining this,” she said more to herself. I groaned. I knew what came next.

“So I guess I do have to go to dinner?” I asked. Wanda smirked smugly. “Yep.” I groaned again and followed Wanda through the hallways and up the stairs. We emerged back into the room I had first woken up in, then walked to the right where a a modern, restaurant-sized kitchen came into view. In front of the kitchen was a long, rectangular table made of black wood. Seated around the table were what I assumed to be the Avengers, eating salad, garlic bread, and lasagna. My stomach rumbled and my mouth watered. I was hoping we went unnoticed but apparently luck hated me today. Everyone looked up, faces expressionless. Mr. Stark was the first one to recover and stood up, smiling. “There she is.”

A young African-American man with a small beard and a thick—Wakandan—accent smirked at me. “We were beginning to think you weren’t going to join us tonight.”

Wanda smiled at me. “Sit.” She pointed with her chin at the table. My eyes flitted around looking for an empty seat. I spotted one, but when I did I refrained myself from groaning. Cautiously I slid into the chair next to Peter who flashed me a grin. I ignored him and turned to my plate of steaming food. After a minute, the heroes resumed their dinner, eating and talking heartily. I had only eaten two bites of my lasagna when my question came back. I cleared my throat loud enough to get everyone’s attention. Tony raised his eyebrows. 

“What about my parents?” I asked him. Mr. Stark ducked his head while the rest of the Avengers stopped eating and looked at him expectantly.

“What. About. My. Parents,” I repeated through my teeth. Tony looked back up and met my eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Your parents are safe,” he said. “We contacted them, and told them what happened to you and where you are, and that you’re also safe.”

“That depends,” muttered a more American looking African man with a hint of a Brooklyn accent. Mr. Stark shot him a look then continued. “Your parents weren’t exactly happy when I told them that, but they’ll survive. I told them that you will go home during the holidays so at least they get to see you.”

Tears threatened to spring. I wouldn’t see my parents for almost a year. And with me becoming an Avenger, I might die before then. The worst part was that I didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye. “Thank you for dinner,” I said coldly, standing up and walking into the kitchen, placing my plate near the sink, and heading back to my bedroom.

“That went well,” Sam said sarcastically after Autumn had stormed off on the verge of an emotional breakdown. Tony massaged his temples. “She asked me a question and I answered it. I don’t know why you’re blaming me for her mild tantrum. Frankly, I don’t even know why she got upset.”

“You’re going to be a terrible father,” Steve chuckled to himself. Tony glared at him. “And I suppose you could’ve done better?”

“C’mon, Tony. You just told the kid that she basically won’t see her family again. And with the mission coming up, who knows if she’ll even survive it. Just try to have some sympathy for once, geez,” Steve retorted. Tony just covered his face with his hands and moaned.

“He’s too proud to admit that you’re right,” Natasha whispered loudly to Steve. Steve smiled. Wanda stood up from her seat by Vision. “Should I go. . .?” She asked, pointing to the direction Autumn left.

“Just leave the kid be,” Stephen Strange said, waving her off. “After all, she just learned she’s a superhero. What do you expect?”

“Less drama and more respect,” Tony said, looking up. Strange pointed at Tony. “That was rhetorical.”

Rhodey smiled and shook his head.

“Her ribs are almost fully healed,” Bruce interjected, hoping to change the subject. “Another day or two, and she’ll be up and running.”

“Great, then she’ll finally be able to train,” Nat said eagerly. “And hopefully she’ll discover that her powers aren’t something to be upset about.”

“Yeah, I mean, being able to shape shift into a dragon is pretty awesome,” Peter added, not bothering to hid the admiration in his voice. Tony smiled at him. “Ok, Peter and Nat are officially assigned to train Autumn full-time. Everyone else can help, of course.”

“We might share a common ground,” T’Challa said. Stephen raised his hand. “Ditto.”

“I should be up there with Peter and Nat,” Scott interjected. “I have a daughter. I’ll be able to communicate with Autumn without upsetting her.” He flashed a pointed look at Tony. Tony sighed and tapped his finger on the table, really not appreciating the way the team was treating him. “Fine. We’ll run a test on her tomorrow to check if she’s fully healed. If she is, you guys can go crazy. Just not too crazy. We want her to live to fully use her powers.” 

On that encouraging note, the Avengers left the table and went separate ways.

I stared at the white ceiling in my room. I hated this place so much. I had a strong urge to jump out the window and run back home. Of course, I’d die from the high fall and wouldn’t get to run anywhere. I unplugged my phone and sat cross-legged on my bed, scrolling through pictures of my recent family vacation to Ireland. I remembered so vividly the lush green fields and the small European towns, the mountains rising majestically in the background. Silent tears trickled down my cheeks as I reminisced the bittersweet memories. 

I glanced at the clock. It was 7 pm. I sighed and plugged my earbuds in, laying on my bed and gradually falling asleep to Nightcore.

                 Chapter 3

                          ...

                I’m waking up

           I feel it in my bones

 Enough to make my systems blow

                          ...

I woke up feeling weird. 

Not like sick weird or emotional weird but weird weird. Like I was in someone else’s body. I opened my eyes and found myself staring down at a slender reptilian snout with pale blue scales with undertones of aquamarine, indigo and dark gold. That’s strange. . .

I blinked and shook my head but the reptilian nose was still there. I decided that I was either dreaming or really, really, REALLY tired. I looked at the clock and saw that it was 9 pm. I only slept for two hours.

I attempted to sit up and stretch but when I did, my head clashed with the ceiling. “Ow!” I cried, my voice sounding unusually a tinge deeper.

What’s happening?

I ducked my head and slid cautiously off the bed.

I, for some reason, automatically landed on all fours. I glanced down at my arms and legs and restrained myself from yelping. Instead of human limbs, they were scaly and lithe, like lizard legs except longer and more elevated.

My hands and feet were now talons with white curved claws. No. . .

I hurried to the mirror next to my desk and nearly tripped over my body fifty times. When I was finally staring at my reflection, I squeaked in horror. My head was now graceful and somewhat triangular, with the snout I had first seen when I had woken up. My my deep almond-shaped aquamarine eyes were situated on either side of my head with two indigo—almost black—horns curving slightly at the top, and three small flaps lining each side of my head. My head strangely resembled that of Toothless’s from How To Train Your Dragon. My body was sleek and lithe, with huge, elegant wings folded to my body. They were leathery and bat-like, with indigo undersides. The wing frame started as pale blue like the rest of my body, then darkened to indigo, which eventually darkened to black.

Lastly, my tail was long and somewhat thin, and ended with off-white colored fur. This can’t be happening.

I was a dragon. And I had no idea had to turn back into a human. So I did the only sane thing possible at the moment. I called for help. “Nat!” It came out more like a mild bellow.

A few minutes later, Nat barreled into my bedroom, her hand on a pistol strapped to her thigh defensively. She looked frantically around for me, but then realization clouded her face and her eyes traveled slowly up until they met mine. She didn’t even scream. In fact, she looked like she expected something like this to happen, sooner or later. “Autumn,” Nat said calmly. How was she doing that? “You’re a dragon.”

“I know!” I said impatiently. Nat held up her hands. “Ok, ok, relax. Your powers are starting to take hold. This might happen for a few days until you learn to control them. Just relax.” She placed a comforting hand at the base of my sleek, slightly curved neck. I was at most a little larger than the size of a full grown horse, so Nat couldn’t completely reach my head. “Just relax,” she repeated. I did. Immediately, I felt my muscles loosen up. I hadn’t realized how tense I was.

“Now,” Nat instructed, “take a deep breath through your nose and exhale through your mouth. Just—try not to set anything on fire.”

Puzzled by that last part, I did as I was told. When I exhaled, a tiny glow of flame was illuminated in my mouth. The fire didn’t burn, but it was very warm, almost hot. It felt like a heating pad was set on Medium in my throat. I tried not to panic, so I swallowed down the embers (which felt like gulping down a very hot cup of water with salt) and closed my mouth, looking down at Nat for more directions.

“Ok,” she began a little uneasily, “now close your eyes and just picture turning back into your real form. Every detail; melting your scales back into skin, growing arms and legs, shrinking your head back to its normal size.”

I nodded and closed my eyes, following the instructions Nat described. Instantly I felt my body change; I was rising up to stand on two legs and I felt the familiar feel of clothes cover my flesh. When I felt complete, I opened my eyes and stood—a little under eye level—with Nat. She smiled at me and playfully punched my shoulder. “There you go. Now you know how to shift in and out of your dragon form. Just concentrate on your human form before you sleep until you learn better control so that you won’t unconsciously turn into that.” She gestured around me, as if drawing a messy air outline of my dragon self.

I gave her a small smile. “Thanks, Nat. I’ll remember that.” I yawned and she grinned at me. “Try and get some sleep. And this time I better not come in here and your room’s on fire.”

       

                Chapter 4

                         ...

Singing from heartache, from the pain

Speaking my message from the veins

                         ...

The next morning I woke up as a human, thank goodness. The memory of last night was still fresh in my head; I was glad Nat had come and taught me how to change in and out of a dragon. Next time I wouldn’t have to disturb her. Quite frankly, I was hoping there wouldn’t be a next time.

I got out of bed, a little groggy from the previous incident. My legs wobbled. My head ached a bit. I realized I was still wearing my attire from yesterday, minus my shoes.

I looked at the clock and saw that it was 9:30. I quickly took my long hair out of its braid and brushed it, then tied my shoes and headed up to the kitchen for breakfast.

Thankfully it was empty. The Avengers must get up early. Or late. Either one was fine with me, as long as I was alone.

I went first to one of the dark wooden cabinets, finding a water glass and filling it up in the refrigerator’s ice and water dispenser. I then looked inside the fridge for anything to eat and spied three huge cinnamon rolls on a plate covered with shrink wrap. I uncovered the plate and chose the roll with the most icing, setting it on a salad plate I had found in another cabinet. I took my breakfast to the counter/bar opposite the stove. The bar was basically a medium sized salt and pepper colored granite ledge which dropped down to the counter with a wooden bowl of fruit in the center.

I hoisted my petite body onto one of the black leather upholstered bar stools, and ate my bun, content with the beautiful silence. Of course an Avenger—a weird bald guy with dark maroon skin, green eyes, and a yellow gem stuck in the middle of his forehead—had to ruin it. “Ah, good morning, Autumn,” he greeted me with a proper-sounding English accent.

“Um, hi,” I said awkwardly. Man, these guys never give me a break.

Gem Head said nothing and proceeded to make himself a cup of coffee. “I am Vision,” he said, pouring his drink into a I Heart NY mug. Under different circumstances, that might’ve been funny. 

“Ok.” I seriously wish these people would just leave me alone.

“Mr. Stark would like to meet with you.” Vision sipped his coffee and faced me.

“Now?” I asked, a bit surprised and infuriated.

Vision chuckled. “No. At 10:30.”

I frowned. “Then where is everyone?”

Vision gestured with his head to the short hallway that led out from the living room and to a flight of stairs. “Mostly everyone are in the conference room, listening to Miss Romanoff explain the interesting. . . change you underwent last night. Peter is still sleeping, as far as I am aware.”

That jinxed us, of course.

Peter sauntered into the kitchen, dressed in flannel PJ pants and a gray T-shirt. Vision briefly turned intangible so Peter could walk through him since his eyes were half closed. The teen walked over to the fridge, pulled out a breakfast sandwich, and popped it in the microwave above the stove. He rubbed his eyes and looked around, as if suddenly noticing there were other people in the kitchen. He smiled and leaned against the countertop. He looked at me and he smiled wider, much to my annoyance. “Morning, dragon girl,” he said playfully.

I squelched a smile. “Hello.”

I glanced at my hands, hoping that they didn’t suddenly shift into talons, if that was why Peter greeted me as ‘dragon girl’. Thankfully, they weren’t talons so the guy probably just said it to make me smile. Which I found utterly irritating.

Vision cleared his throat, as if noticing the awkward tension between the two of us. “Autumn, you should go get dressed. Mr. Stark is expecting to see you in the lab in—“ he paused to check his watch “—thirty minutes.”

I sighed and, as much I loathed seeing Tony again, especially in a lab, that meant I wouldn’t have to listen to Peter crack jokes about my powers.

I slid down from the stool and walked back to my bedroom, feeling Vision and Peter’s eyes on me as I strode away. It was very unnerving.

I walked into my room and opened the closet, trying to decide what to wear. There were so many choices, it made me almost dizzy. I finally settled on a pair of faded ripped jeans and an Imagine Dragons T-shirt. I kept on my white Converse, and checked myself in the mirror.

My espresso brown hair cascaded down to my lower back, with my long, choppy side bangs brushed roughly to the side. My large aquamarine eyes were framed with dark, thick lashes, outlining their almond shape.

Satisfied with my appearance, I walked down the hallways and up flights of glass and steel stairs. Once I topped my third stairwell, I gazed around.

I had entered an enormous room, all walls made of glass, and three of them were windows to others areas of the compound. The left wall was a window outside, overlooking the lush green field with the long gravel driveway and the thick forest in the distance. I breathed in its beauty. It’s been a long time since I was outside and in fresh air.

I peeled my eyes from the window and back to the room. It appeared to be a work station/lab with metal tables piled with papers and futuristic tech. At least three big white robotic arms were stationed as well. A clearing of a throat broke my thoughts and I turned to see Mr. Stark standing behind a table with a frameless computer, his formal attire shed so he was just wearing dark jeans and a T-shirt. He smiled at me. “Ready for your appointment?” He asked. I allowed slight confusion to appear on my face. “I don’t have an appointment. Vision just said you wanted to see me.”

“Yes, I do. That’s why you have an appointment.” Tony started to chuckle a little.

“Ok. . . then what’s my appointment for?” I asked, starting to get annoyed.

“Come over here,” Mr. Sark said, ignoring my question. He walked over to the middle of the room and pulled a frameless phone with a blue screen out of his pocket and tapped on it a few times. A holographic medical monitor appeared, glowing and pulsing with energy. I widened my eyes and joined Mr. Stark. He looked me over for a moment, then called over his shoulder, “Bruce!”

As footsteps approached, Tony glanced at me and said quickly, “Nice shirt, by the way.”

I snorted.

A man appeared in a doorway opposite from where we’re standing. He looked to be maybe in his forties with black hair slightly graying at the edges, tan skin, and dark—almost black— brown eyes. He would’ve looked kind and warm if he wasn’t wearing glasses and a worried expression.

“What is it, Tony?” The man who must’ve been Bruce asked, slightly exasperated.

“Our patient is here.” Tony gestured to me with his head. Bruce walked up to me and smiled kindly. “Hello. I’m Dr. Bruce Banner.”

“Hey,” I replied in the friendliest tone I could muster. Dr. Banner turned to Mr. Stark and narrowed his eyes. “You haven’t told her yet, have you?”

Tony shrugged, while my voice was locked in my throat and if it was humanly possible for eyes to grow as big as dinner plates, then mine would have. What else did they not tell me? Was I some kid of alien?

“C’mon, Tony,” Bruce continued. “You don’t have to set up all this fancy tech just to check if three broken ribs are healed. Just press on her stomach and if you hear a crack, then they’re still broken.”

I resisted the urge to turn into a dragon and smite them. Bruce turned to me and laughed. “I’m just kidding. We totally need this stuff to run the tests.” Before I could protest, or smite them, Tony had scanned me with his weird but cool phone and instantly a report came up on the medical monitor. Dr. Banner examined it closely before turning to me with a smile. “Great. You’re fully healed. You should be able to start training tomorrow with Natasha and Peter.”

I choked. “What?”

“Yeah,” Bruce said. “Nat and Peter volunteered to be your trainers.”

“Of course they did,” I muttered.

“Ok, kid, you’re free.” Tony waved me off. “That’s all we needed you for.”

“Good,” I said icily, turning on my heel and striding back to my room where I could lock my door, doodle away, and listen to Nightcore.  

As I approached my bedroom door, I could hear epic rock music coming from a half opened door two doors down from mine. I had a pretty good idea of who’s it was, and when a flash of short brown hair and a familiar profile crossed the opening, my suspicions were affirmed. Peter. I wrinkled my nose at the poor choice of music and opened my door to be greeted by light gray walls and Chinese lanterns. I sighed as I plopped down at my desk with my pencil and sketch pad. I plugged my earbuds into my smartphone and cued the slow, slightly depressing music as I sketched away, letting my fingers draw what my heart felt.

Forty minutes later I observed my work. I had drawn an anime girl sitting on a cliff overlooking the ocean, gazing up at the full moon with wide, sad eyes, hugging her legs to her chest. A small tear dropped down her cheek and her raven hair swept forward with the breeze. I paused Nightcore’s version of Taylor Swift’s “Safe and Sound” as I stood up and pinned the drawing to the wall above my desk. I sat back down and resumed the song. I closed my eyes and rocked side to side to the beat, humming along. Soon my voice grew until I was singing along to the beautiful music, absently forgetting that I had left my door open a crack accidentally. And not noticing the unlikely audience I was attracting.

Peter stood in his room, playing the air guitar to his favorite rock song. His door was left open, since the Avengers were quite used to him rocking out and didn’t mind anymore.

As the song ended, a different sort of music drifted into Peter’s bedroom. It was slow and sentimental, and whoever was singing it seemed to really be in the mood. Peter groaned and slid off his bed. How many times do I have to tell Wanda to turn down her depressing music? He thought. Peter walked out of his room and was about to knock on Wanda’s door when he realized that the music wasn’t coming from the telekinetic’s quarters. With a start he realized it was coming from Autumn’s room. He quietly crept over to her door and peeked down at her lower legs just to make sure she was decent. Her ankles showed white Converse and faded jeans. Whew, she was clothed. Peter slowly pushed her door open a bit farther and saw a sight that Autumn probably wanted to be private.

The strange brunette was swaying side to side in her desk chair, eyes closed and earbuds in. And she was singing. Her voice was melodious, a little raspy, and beautiful, but with such feeling that it warmed Peter right down to his toes. He recognized the song as well, but he didn’t know the words. A smile began to form on his face as he also began to sway with the tune.

“What’s got you all smiley?” A strong voice inquired. Peter turned to see T’Challa walking into the hallway, phone in hand—probably texting his sister. Peter blushed. “Oh, um, just. . .ah,” he stuttered.

T’Challa chuckled and looked over Peter’s shoulder into Autumn’s room. “My sister used to listen to that song to help her sleep,” T’Challa remarked absentmindedly. Pretty soon, a few more people gathered at the sound of Autumn’s voice. Wanda, Nat, Scott, and Thor listened and watched as the young mutant began to slowly dance around in her room in a mesmerizing way.

As she turned, only then did Peter noticed the tear streaks on her cheeks and the subtle shake to her voice. She was crying. She’s absolutely miserable here, Peter realized with pang of sadness.

As Autumn finished the last note of the song, she opened her eyes only to be horror-stricken at the unwanted attention. She seriously looked like she would die of embarrassment. She pulled her earbuds out and a shy smile played at her lips. “Ummm. . . how much of that did you guys hear?”

Everyone applauded. Blush crept through Autumn’s light olive face like a crimson flood.

“You have an amazing voice,” Nat told her.

“Yes,” Thor agreed, “one worthy of the courts of Asgard.”

Autumn smiled with pride. “Thanks. I took lessons.” Her face darkened by using the past tense. An orange glow flickered through her eyes and sparks momentarily danced across her fingers. “Autumn. . .” Wanda warned. The girl clenched her fists, extinguishing the small flames and staring back calmly but with chilly essence. Defiance? Anger? Peter didn’t know how to name the different emotions that were evidently flashing through Autumn’s face.

“I’m sorry. I-I didn’t know that would happen. It’s just—well—I’m still not used to being a mutant. I guess I’ll never have a normal life again.” Autumn burst out in a fresh set of tears, while Nat started corralling the others away from the sobbing brunette’s room. Peter stood and helplessly watched her for a moment, before walking away and wishing he could somehow tell her it was ok. But he knew it wasn’t.

Unbeknownst to them, Tony was in the office near the bedroom hallway, going over their plan about infiltrating the North Korean lab. The glass door was left open, so Tony could hear the entire affair with Autumn and the others. He had heard her sing her sad tune, in a voice that was so gorgeous and enthralling, it almost put him in a trance. All of her emotions poured into the words, so that you could almost feel her sadness and helplessness. It made Tony regret thrusting the poor teen into this whole “superhero business” but he knew he didn’t have a choice. Sooner or later Xang’s men would’ve come for her, and brainwashed her just as they did to Viggo Ramirez. No one was there for him to explain this to, nor to go over his doubts and thoughts of throwing Autumn into the dangerous mission.

And no one was there when a silent tear dripped down his cheek.

                 Chapter 5

                         ...

Got things to do, got things to say

       Yeah, I’m talking to you

                         ...

That was stupid.

Stupid to just sing freely and not check if my door was closed. And stupid to bust out crying in front of everyone. 

I sighed shakily and wiped my nose, standing up and shutting my door. I glanced over at the book shelf with the beanbag in its alcove. Taking my earbuds out and placing both them and my phone on my desk I walked over to the shelf and selected a book at random, dropping into the beanbag chair before reading the title. The Giver by Lois Lowry. I shrugged and flipped open the book. It was a Newberry Winner, so it must be good and the summary was quite intriguing. I remembered seeing trailers for the movie, and hearing a few kids at school mention it, but I never really thought to read it. As I began chapter one, I felt myself floating into the alternate dimension of literary fiction. . .

Huh? What? What time was it?

I just realized I had fallen asleep halfway through chapter seven of the book, my long hair messy with some hanging in my face. I impatiently tucked it behind my ear and sat up, stretching and yawning.

I glanced absentmindedly at the wall clock, not the least bit shocked or upset to see that it was 1:00 pm, and that I had missed lunch. Oh well, I could probably just snatch something from the kitchen anyway.

I quickly smoothed down my hair and walked out of my room and up the stairs and through the hallways, till I reached the living room. I strode past that and over to the kitchen, which was seemingly empty. I stood still for a moment, pricking my ears for any sounds of someone coming. Hearing nothing out of the ordinary, I slyly made my way over to the fridge and opened the freezer, finding exactly what I was looking for: ice cream. I pulled the gallon of chocolate chip cookie dough out and set it on the counter, searching for a spoon and bowl. Finding both, I scooped myself a very generous amount of ice cream then looked for toppings that I could add. I rummaged through some cabinets until I heard one open next to me. I looked over and saw Bucky holding a Family Size bag of KitKats, smiling with amusement. I held out my hands and made my winning puppy face. Bucky dropped the bag in my hands with a chuckle and watched silently as I poured some onto my ice cream. “You know, you’ll have the bad guys handing over their weapons if you make that face,” he said after a while. I mock bowed. “I’m glad my performance was a success.” I took my bowl over to the bar-counter thing and sat down, shoveling spoonfuls of ice cream into my mouth. Bucky sat down across from me and studied me for a moment before saying, “You ready for training tomorrow?”

I choked on my lunch and ice cream came out my nose. “Napkin, napkin,” I panted, fanning my face. Bucky grabbed me a paper towel and I blew my nose, then wiped the ice cream from underneath it. I pinched the bridge of my nose and shook my head slowly. “Geez, that’s even worse than a brain freeze,” I muttered. I dropped my hand and thought for a minute before answering Bucky’s question. “Yeah, I guess so. I mean, Nat already showed me how to shape shift so I don’t know how hard it could be. I’m a black belt in karate and I did parkour since I was seven. A lot of the stuff will probably be just repetition.”

Bucky nodded. “Maybe. I know Peter won’t work you too hard but Nat will definitely be a challenge. You’ll break a sweat for sure.”

I shrugged as I walked over and placed my bowl in the sink. “I’m used to it.”

Bucky chuckled and put a hand on my shoulder. “You’ve got spunk, kiddo. I like that.” He smiled then turned and walked out of the room.

I smiled a small smile to myself when Bucky said that. Not only was it—in my opinion anyway—a compliment, but it also ignited a small ember of hope within me. Maybe life here wouldn’t be a complete disaster after all. And maybe, just maybe, it would get better.

                  Chapter 6

                          ...

          My powers turned on

   Starting right now I’ll be strong

                          ...

The first day of training did not start off as any other day. First, Tony’s AI,  FRIDAY, woke me up at 7am, which is still the middle of the night in my book. Second, FRIDAY also informed me that Nat wanted me down at the gym in fifteen minutes, which included freshening up and eating breakfast. Lastly, well, this was probably the weirdest and most irritating part, Nat sent Peter of all people to come and get me. I mentally died in a hole.

Groggily eating and brushing my teeth, I hoped that Nat would at least not cause me another broken rib. At most, I hoped that she wouldn’t “accidentally” sever one of my limbs. That would be painful.

After tying my hair up in a messy ponytail, I swiftly threw on an olive green workout tank top and a pair of navy blue biking shorts. Deciding that I probably wouldn’t have any use for shoes, I stayed barefoot.

I spent about another ten minutes or so reading the The Giver, when there came a knock on my door. Knowing who it already was, I put the book back on the bookshelf and opened the door to a very eager looking Peter. I stretched, unconsciously leaning back halfway into a back bend. Peter watched my little episode with surprise, then cleared his throat. As if I had forgotten he was there. Ha, I wish. I stood back up to my full five foot four inches in height. “What?” I asked impatiently.

“Um, well, Nat sent me up to come get you, so. . .” Peter began to blush and rubbed the back of his neck.

I sighed softly to myself and made up my mind to make the best of things. I could start by being kinder to a kid to did nothing to me. Well, apart from helping to kidnap me and basically stalked me while I was out for almost a week.

“Ok, yeah, let’s go,” I said in a more friendly tone. My sleepiness didn’t hold back from leaking into my voice, though. Peter smirked. “Tired?”

I narrowed my eyes playfully at him. “No. Are you?”

Peter laughed. “Nope.”

We proceeded to walk down the hallways, keeping silent for the time being. It wasn’t as awkward as I expected. The quiet was almost comfortable.

We arrived at the gym door, which was surprisingly bulletproof glass, very much unlike the stainless steel doors found around the rest of the Compound. Peter opened the door for me and I bowed my head. “Thank you, kind sir,” I said in a mock damsel voice. Peter laughed and walked in behind me. Now in the room, I could finally get ahold of the scope. The gym was a large room with stark white walls, two of which which were made of the same bulletproof glass. Treadmills, weights, punching bags, practice dummies, and a mini shooting range were set up throughout the area, with the wall directly opposite the door displaying various kinds of weapons. I grinned in spite of myself when I saw all the lethal toys that I had always been fascinated with. But what really caught my eye was a sleek katana. My parents did a good job with teaching me and before, my older twin siblings Amaya and Aaron, about our Asian history and taught us how to use the native weapons. Pretty awesome, right?

A clearing of a throat broke me from my thoughts and I turned to see Nat wearing a fitted white tank top and black leather pants standing at the far side of the room, in front of one of the windows. A metal bucket was standing next to her. For some reason that scared me.

Leaning against the wall next to Nat was a man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties with cleanly shaven beard stubble and thick black hair. He had kind blue eyes and sported a white T-shirt and gray cargo pants. Only then did I realize that Peter was wearing something similar. I felt like I was at a bootcamp or something.

The man came up to me with a warm smile and shook my hand. “Scott Lang, or better known as Ant-Man.”

I tilted my head, thinking. I had never heard of a superhero with that name. My blank expression spoke for me. Scott sighed. “Ok, maybe you haven’t heard of me. Gosh, you look a lot like my daughter, Cassie.”

I smiled. I considered it a compliment that I reminded him of his daughter. Nat clapped her hands. We all looked at her. “Save the family talk for later; we have a lot of training to get done.” She waved me over and I stood a good six feet in front of her. Just as safety precautions. She dusted off her hands. “Ok, Autumn, we’re just gonna start with the basics. Today we will focus on learning to control your elemental abilities. Since you already know how to shape shift in and out of a dragon, we’ll save that for last.” I nodded, ready for whatever Nat was to throw at me. The Russian ginger sensed this and smirked. “Wow, someone’s ready. Ok then. Will the water to rise out of the bucket.”

I closed my eyes and focused—hard. I concentrated with all my strength till I started to feel lightheaded and opened my eyes. I gave Nat a questioning look, my features a mix of annoyance and tiredness. The redhead chuckled. “Nice try, kiddo. But just focusing on empty space isn’t the key. Imagine you’re standing on a tree branch. A good distance away is another tree that you need to get to. In between the gap is a rope. The rope is just out of reach so you need to strain yourself to grab it. It takes all of your concentration to reach out for the rope and not fall, and at the same time you need to keep in mind how close you are to the edge of the branch. You just need to stay calm and focus. Slowly your arm stretches out and you’re able to finally grasp the rope and you safely swing across the gap to the other branch. Now, this branch is your consciousness. The gap is, well, the opposite of consciousness. The rope is the element. It takes all of your attention and focus to control it. If you rush or if you do it wrong, you will pass out. But, if you are patient and calm, you will succeed. So, close your eyes and do everything I just told you.”

I followed Nat’s directions exactly and I immediately I felt a tug in both my brain and my gut. Then it vanished and was replaced with a numb, soft feeling like I had stuck my hand in front of a power fan for too long. I opened my eyes and I reminded myself to stay calm in order to not yelp in surprise. A steady trail of water had risen out of the bucket and the tip was now levitating over my upturned palm. I looked at everyone else for their reactions. Nat was proud, Scott was pleasantly surprised, and Peter was shocked and completely taken aback. 

“Whoa,” I breathed, slowly releasing my grip on the water and allowing it to lower itself back into the bucket with a gentle splash.

Nat smiled a rare, genuine smile. “Well done, Autumn. And that’s basically the method that you use to control the rest of the elements. Now, let’s start brushing up on your fighting skills.”

Five hours later, I was trudging up the stairs to my room after an exhausting and intense training session. I was covered in bruises and small gashes from the whole ordeal, while Nat had managed to not even break a sweat. Peter and Scott and sparred with me as well, but the Russian assassin was definitely a chore.

I arrived back at my bedroom and went straight into the attached bathroom to take a shower, only pausing a few seconds to answer FRIDAY about how my training session went.

I stripped down from my sweaty attire and willed the water to blast through the shower hose at full power. I washed myself down in the scalding hot liquid, spending an extra thirty minutes scrubbing my body three times over.

Strangely enough, the steaming hot water didn’t burn my skin like it should’ve. Instead it felt pleasantly warm; calming and soothing. I figured it had to do with my mutation.

After my shower, I threw on loose and comfortable clothing: an oversized blue-gray long sleeved shirt with a picture of two white angel wings on the front, short gray shorts, and socks which I scrunched down. My long hair hung loose and wet around my shoulders—I have never been a fan of using a hair dryer. I put my phone on shuffle and brushed my hair to the song “Suitcase” by Sia. I’ve always liked that song. I think it’s because it gives a message of wanting to be free, which is what I especially long for now. Pretty soon I found myself quietly singing along.

               Pack it all away

              

       Pack it all in one suitcase

                I got all I need

           All I need to be free!

As I finished brushing, another thought came to mind. I sat up a little on my bed and grew my tail out. It curved around and settled next to me. The fur on the end was soaked, so I walked into the bathroom and wrung it out over the drain. After I got all the extra water out, I sat back on my bed and hoisted the end of my tail up on my lap, where I proceeded to brush it.

              Pack it all away

      Pack it all in one suitcase

               I got all I need

          All I need I’m flying!

Someone knocked on my door, and I paused the song. I waited for a moment and the knocking continued, followed by a familiar voice. “Autumn?”

“Come in,” I answered, internally glad that it wasn’t a different Avenger. Wanda opened my door and poked her head in. “You ok? You didn’t come down for lunch.”

I sighed. “Yeah. That’s the second time.”

Worry lines appeared in Wanda’s forehead. “What?”

“That’s the second time I’ve missed lunch since I’ve been here,” I answered. I had stopped brushing my tail so it now just sat limply on my lap. Wanda walked over and plopped herself down next to me. She glanced at my tail. “May I?”

I smiled. “Sure.”

Wanda stroked my fur softly, humming to herself. “You have a very beautiful tail,” she said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. 

“Thank you.”

“So, why have you been skipping lunch?” Wanda repeated. I looked at her incredulously. “I’m fine. It’s not like I’ve gone into depression or something. Well, maybe I have, kinda, but that doesn’t mean I’ll start cutting myself because of it. I’ve forgotten about lunch, that’s all.”

Wanda studied me. “Why are you depressed?” She asked gently.

I sighed. “I’m depressed because I’m stuck here.” I pulled my knees up to my chest. “It was a normal day, and then suddenly I was thrust into this. I found out I was a mutant. I was told I could never go home. And now I’m being trained for a mission that I’ll most likely die from.” I was crying softly now, which wasn’t normal. “Why did this have to happen to me? I don’t understand.”

Wanda looked down at me with sad eyes. It looked as if she was holding in tears. She hugged me. “I felt the same way you do when Pietro and I lost our parents. We were on the run for so long, and it just made the pain worse. But I had to believe that it happened for a reason, and that things would turn out ok. And they did, after many miserable years in that HYDRA lab and losing my brother, I found peace. I don’t know why terrible things happen to us sometimes, but we have to believe that something good will come out of it and that sooner or later things will work out.”

I wiped my nose on my sleeve and looked up at the telekinetic. My eyes were probably red and puffy, and I probably looked pitiful for a person who could change form into a fire-breathing dragon. I smiled at my friend. “Thanks, Wanda. That really helped. You’re like my older sister. She was always there to comfort me. Sorry, that sounded sappy and I bet I look pathetic from crying.” Wanda smiled back. “No, no, I understand. I’m glad I remind you of your sister. Are you ok now?”

I straightened up and sniffled. “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks again.”

Wanda hugged me one last time and slid off my bed. “You’re welcome. I just wanted to make sure you were ok.” Upon saying that, Wanda glanced down at my tail, then at my hairbrush, beginning to piece the two together. “Have fun, um, brushing your tail,” she added a little awkwardly. I nodded at her. “Thanks! I will.” The brunette nodded back a little slowly and slunk out of my room, closing the door behind her.

                 Chapter 7

                         ...

   I used to hold my freak back

            Now I’m letting go

                         ...

After my talk with Wanda, I felt a lot better.

My moodiness was melting away, and I was becoming more open toward the other Avengers. They were very surprised at my change of attitude, and I can’t blame them. Having a girl who had been closed-up and snappy for three days, then suddenly becoming more talkative gives you quite a shock. 

I was being more friendly to Tony and Peter, Tony reacting like he’d been run over by a truck and Peter smiling like he’d just won the lottery.

Over time, the fear of my powers disappeared as I began to master and embrace them as a part of me. Which brought me to my first flight.

“Nat, are you sure about this?” I nervously asked the redhead assassin on a breezy June morning. We were standing on top of what used to be Stark Tower. Surrounding it were other buildings dwarfed by its size. I glanced down at the ground which was fifteen stories below us.

“Yep, this is the perfect place. It’s high up and half of the buildings are abandoned, so you won’t kill anyone if you make a mistake,” Natasha answered casually. I stared at her. “What are we doing again, exactly?” 

Nat sighed. “We’re teaching you how to fly, Autumn. That’s your training lesson for today. I don’t understand; I told you about this yesterday and you were absolutely psyched.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t tell me that I would be jumping off the roof of Stark Tower,” I retorted, looking at the ground again.

Nat shrugged and walked a little ways away to give me some space. “Touché.”

I gave her a deadpan look.

Nat rubbed her hands together. “Now, the first thing you do is change into your dragon form.”

I did as I was told. My minty green scales sparkled in the sunlight and the fur on the end of my tail lightly rustled in the wind. Nat smiled. “Good, good. Now, unfurl your wings and stretch them out. Maybe flap them a few times to get the blood flowing.”

I extended my wings. Their indigo undersides glittered like a night sky full of stars. I flapped them up and down, faster and faster. Once or twice I was airborne for a moment. Nat continued to smile. “Great job, Autumn. You’re getting the hang of it. Now I want you to look down at the ground. See Peter waving down there?”

I peeked over the edge of the building. Sure enough, there was Peter, grinning and waving enthusiastically. I smiled with amusement. That was dumb. I should’ve been focusing on Nat instead, because before I could contemplate what was happening, I was shoved off the roof in one swift motion, hurdling towards the pavement. Wind tore at my face mercilessly like it was trying to rip it off, and my wings were folded around my body protectively. My tail swished wildly behind me. Peter stopped waving at stared at my lifeless body with horror. The fast fall was making me nauseous and I was on the verge of passing out. I was too dizzy to scream.

“Autumn!” Nat yelled. “Open your wings! Straighten your tail!”

Using my last bit of consciousnesses, I obliged to Nat’s orders and unfurled my wings. I took back control of my tail and used it for balance. I tilted my body upwards and my wings followed the movement. I went from plummeting directly down to gliding slowly over the New York rooftops. People looked up and pointed, and little kids either cowered behind their mom’s legs or grinned excitedly. I let out a gentle, triumphant roar and the suburbans cheered. Flying was amazing! I flapped my wings and rose higher and higher, the buildings growing even smaller. I entered a small embankment of clouds. The wind was much calmer up here and I easily soared across the sky, my talons skimming through the fluffy white clouds. I roared again, this time louder and more passionate. I felt unstoppable, like I could fly anywhere with ease. My body was filled with power and I was almost wanting to go on the mission to give The Dragon’s Eye a piece of me and see how they like it. Because I sure didn’t like the piece they gave me. I gazed fondly at my surroundings one more time before spiraling back down to Peter and Nat.

Peter was up on the roof when I landed with a heavy THUMP. He squealed like a kid on Christmas and ran over to me, checking out my wings. I nudged him with my snout and we began playing a mini game of tag. Nat just watched the whole ordeal with her arms crossed and a fond smile. “Alright you two,” she said, clapping her hands to get our attention. We both walked over to her. She smiled at me. “Awesome job today, Autumn. You are really starting to get the hang of your powers. That’s good. Now, let’s go back to the Compound and get some lunch. After an experience like that, you must be hungry.”

“Hey, Toothless, how was your first flight?” Tony inquired playfully as Nat, Peter, and I entered the kitchen. I scoffed. “You know, Autumn would work too. Training went good. Thankfully I didn’t fall to my death like I would’ve if I hadn’t taken control.” I shot a pointed look at Nat who simply smirked at me and scoured through the fridge. Peter leaned against the countertop and popped open a Coke. “She was pretty amazing.”

As much as I tried, I couldn’t hide my blush. Tony looked between the two of us, grinned, and left the room. Nat came over and handed us two slices of cold pizza. “I was too hungry,” she explained simply. I rolled my eyes affectionately and took the food. That’s just like Nat.

“So, you guys ready for the party tomorrow night?” she suddenly asked.

Peter and I spit out our food in unison.

“What?” I screeched.

Peter burned beet red.

Nat shrugged casually. “Yeah, Tony’s throwing an engagement party in celebration of him and Pepper.”

I pretended to puke into the sink, Peter watching me with an eyebrow raised. I turned back to Nat. “That’s nice, but I would rather not go to a fancy party inspired by romance. You guys have fun; I’ll be in my room drawing, reading, or whatever. . .”

I made to leave the kitchen but Nat blocked my path. A malicious grin was on her face. “Oh, no, you’re coming too,” she said, a glint in her eye. I gulped. That is never a good sign.

“But I don’t have anything to wear,” I said hopefully. Perhaps I could still get out of this.

Nat’s grin stretched wider. “Don’t worry, Wanda knew about this party, so she picked up a few varieties of formal dresses before you came to the Compound.”

My face fell as I stared at Nat with terror. It will be only a matter of time before I’m forced to dress up, with the aid of Wanda, no doubt.

Kill me now.

                Chapter 8

           

                         ...

              I see the lights

   See the party, the ballgowns

                         ...

Today was my death day. Yes, the day that I would die a slow, gruesome death because I sacrificed myself for something stupid. Today was Mr. Stark’s engagement party.

“I am not wearing that,” I told Wanda defiantly as she held up an outfit that she had pulled out from the dark, ominous corners of my gigantic closet. It was a two piece set, the skirt was a bright sea green and the sequined, sleeveless top was a creamy white.

Wanda huffed and stuffed the dress back into my wardrobe with much effort. “Autumn, this is the fourth dress we’ve tried; Tony’s party starts in forty-five minutes. And we still have to do your hair and makeup.”

My eyes brightened hopefully. “Only forty-five? Good, let’s keep looking for dresses and not go at all.”

Wanda rolled her eyes. “Autumn, you are going. Natasha has made than painfully clear, and you do not want to get on her bad side. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“I could die,” I said bluntly, wide-eyed.

Wanda groaned. “You’re overthinking this, really. Just try to have a good time. And besides, this is about Tony and Pepper.”

I sighed deeply and flopped backwards onto my bed. “Fine.”

Wanda smirked triumphantly and ducked back out of sight into my closet in search of another dress. She emerged a moment later with a different outfit, this one appealing slightly to me as I sat up to inspect it.

It was a navy blue, sleeveless off the shoulder dress. Simple enough, but also formal for the occasion. Perfect.

Wanda, seeing that my face had considerably softened and brightened, smirked and laid the dress next to me on the bed, pulling out a moment later a pair of silver sandal heels.

“Now,” she said bossily, “time for hair and makeup.”

I groaned.

Surprisingly, it only took Wanda thirty minutes to do stuff that should’ve taken an hour. I’ll admit, I’ll give her credit for that, and putting up with my stubborn attitude throughout the whole thing.

I stood in front of the mirror, surveying my appearance.

The dress went down to the middle of my thighs, but I assumed that had something to do with the heels, because they boosted me up three and a half inches from my original height.

My side bangs were pulled back by a silver, diamond-studded pin, which matched my heels.

For the makeup, Wanda had to literally threaten to sedate me if I didn’t keep still.

Mascara coated my already dark eyelashes and Wanda had applied glittering gold eyeshadow as well. She had severely gone over the top with the eyeliner, so that my eyes looked bigger and brighter than usual. Wanda had decided that since my face was already smooth and flawless—to an extent—I didn’t need foundation, concealer, or any of that crap. However, she didn’t seem to feel the same way about blush, as my cheeks were now glowing with a faint pinkish hue as a consequence. I somehow convinced her that I didn’t need to, and wouldn’t, wear lipstick, so that was that.

The only jewelry I wore was a pair of diamond stud earrings in each ear, because I have double ear piercings. Wanda made me take out my plain black ones, because she said they, quote, ‘Wouldn’t complete the look as well’.

Wanda herself was wearing a crimson strapless mermaid dress with a sweetheart neck and black lace heels. Her light brown hair was curled on the ends so it fell down her back in loose waves. She had amped up her makeup so that her lips were so red they were almost painful to look at, and her green eyes seemed to pop out at you from a mass of thick black mascara and eyeliner. She wore no jewelry except for a pair of black dangly earrings.

After we were done examining ourselves, Wanda turned to me and smiled. “Ready to go?”

I sighed. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

For the two months I had been living here, and the extensive exploring I did daily to boot, I never knew that the Compound had a designated ballroom.

It had a high ceiling, smooth, off-white walls that glowed warm golden from the few individual lights and the large, modern chandelier, and a polished marble floor that seemed to reflect the golden light. Tony has specifically decorated it with white silk strips draping the chandelier, and mini vases of pale pink and white roses at the center of the two dozen, small circular tables that were set neatly up on the right half of the room, each of which was covered with a white silk tablecloth. 

A long and vast buffet and drink table was set up against the wall with the sliding double doors that opened up into the ballroom. Against the left wall was a small and narrow stage, a microphone at the front and a turntable in the corner of it.

My eyes skimmed over all of this. It was a very grand sight indeed.

The only people that were in here were the rest of the Avengers, all of which were dressed very formally.

“Well, well, well, look who finally decided to show up,” Nat said, striding up to us with a smirk on her face. She was wearing a black, long-sleeved cocktail dress with a plunging neckline and an open back, and black heels. Her orange bob was straightened so that it hugged her neck. It was strange seeing tough, hardcore Nat wearing a dress and heels.

I shot a nasty glance at both Wanda and Nat. “If it weren’t for two certain people,” I coughed loudly, “then I wouldn’t have shown up at all,” I said scathingly.

Nat continued to smirk at me, running her tongue over her teeth. “You have no idea how much this might benefit you in the future.”

“Oh, really? Where, in my life, do you, O Great Seer, see anything in my future that was particularly bountiful because of this stupid party?”

“I’m hurt,” said an all-too familiar voice from behind us.

We turned to see Tony standing, a champagne in his hand, looking as smug as ever in a black tuxedo and a red tie.

I glared at him. “This is your fault.”

Tony snorted and took a sip of his drink. “What, the party, or your dislike of them?”

I rolled my eyes as the three adults began laughing, stalking away to one of the tables.

I walked straight into Peter.

“Autumn,” he said, obviously surprised that Wanda and Nat had been able to drag me here successfully, unscathed. He did a double take and blinked rapidly.

He was wearing a plain suit and tie, as were the rest of the male members of the Avengers.

“Would it be rude if I turned into a dragon and set this room on fire?” I asked casually.

“Probably,” Peter answered with a shrug.

I huffed and continued to walk; Peter jogged to catch up with me.

“Oh, come on Autumn, it’s not that bad.”

I whirled around to face him, raising an eyebrow.

Peter sighed exasperatedly. “If you keep having a bad attitude, then you really are going to have a horrible time.”

I shrugged. “Whatever, then. How long d’you think the party’ll be?” 

Peter shrugged this time. “Who cares. At least we’re not expected to socialize with any of the adults. I asked Tony, don’t worry,” he added quickly when he saw my apprehensive face.

“What about dancing?” I asked slowly, my eyebrow rising further.

Peter blushed for some reason and started looking anywhere except at my face. “Um, no, I don’t think we’re expected to do that either.”

I blew out a breath of relief and leaned against the table.

“Why, are you a terrible dancer?” Peter inquired.

It was my turn to blush. “No,” I muttered. “I’m actually a very good dancer.”

Peter looked confused. “Then why. . .?”

“I just don’t like dancing, ok?” I snapped. Peter backed up, hands raised in a gesture of surrender. “Alright, geez, sorry.”

I sighed and scratched the back of my neck. “The truth is, Peter. . . I’m a full-on wallflower when it comes to parties and stuff.”

Peter snorted. “Really? I couldn’t tell.”

“And because of that, I’m very socially awkward at parties,” I continued irritably. “At homecoming at my old school back home. . . I literally just stood in the corner the whole time with a glass of punch. I didn’t talk, dance, nothing.”

Peter raised an unbelieving eyebrow. “So you stood in a corner for four hours?”

“I’m serious!” I said, shoving his chest. 

Peter chuckled. “If you wanted to touch me that badly, we could’ve just stepped outside.”

I glared at him and stomped off, rolling my eyes. “Well you’re no help,” I muttered.

I just wish someone would understand already! They talk to me and treat me like I absolutely adore it here, or at least automatically believe that being shot in the head with some superpower serum and then being forced to stay with a bunch of millionaire enhanced strangers is normal!

Hate to break it to you hippies, well, actually no, I’ve been wanting to scream this in your faces for the past month—IT’S NOT NORMAL! I don’t like it here, I’m now suddenly a superhero, I have to live with the Avengers who I don’t even know because of it, and now, to cap it all off, I am being forced to attend a stupid engagement party!

I blew out a slow breath, letting myself cool down. I’m never this emotional, but then again, I’ve never been unexpectedly infused with a dragon mutation serum before. I moved to a table near the back of the room and leaned against it, tucking a rogue strand of hair behind my ear. I looked around.

Peter had moved off to talk to Steve, who looked highly amused about something. Nat and Wanda were still talking with Tony. Everyone else were by the snacks and drinks, chatting too. I rolled my eyes and sat down, pulling my phone out of the black snakeskin wallet purse thing that Wanda had given me. I had slipped my phone in without her noticing, because she would’ve given me a fifteen year lecture against it if she had. 

I don’t even know how long I was sitting there watching conspiracy theories on YouTube, whether it was ten minutes or an hour, but I eventually noticed the dramatic increase in vocal volume. I looked up from my phone screen to see at least four hundred more people in the ballroom. I mean, I know Tony’s rich, but I didn’t know he had any other friends besides the Avengers. Guess I was wrong. Unfortunately.

I glimpsed Wanda staring at me through narrowed eyes and swiftly stuffed my phone back in my handbag, standing up and trying to look as sophisticated as possible. I plastered on a fake smile as I stepped out from behind my hiding place, hoping that I wouldn’t have to talk to more than at least five strangers.

Two hours. That’s how long it’s been, and I’m still alive and breathing.

So far either Steve or Tony had introduced me to a few people as the ‘new edition to the team’. I was tempted to scoff at this, but fought to keep my composure for the sake of reputation.

Pepper, Tony’s fiancé, had arrived a little while ago. She looked stunning. She was wearing an off-white floor-length sequined dress with a sweetheart neck and long sleeves. Her hair was done up in a braided bun. Everyone had stopped at stared at her when she entered, and she smiled warmly around the room. Tony had taken her aside a few minutes later, talking to her in a manner which implied that he was explaining something difficult. Pepper was smiling a bit impatiently while he was doing so.

Finally, the party got a little interesting. The DJ arrived and started to play soft background music. Isn’t wasn’t fun pop or face-paced rap, but it was music, and it calmed me down, my muscles relaxing and my smile becoming more genuine.

I hadn’t talked to Peter since our little chat at the beginning of the party, but I saw him out of the corner of my eye talking, with the company of Tony, to some adults I didn’t recognize.

I smirked. Glad I wasn’t in his situation anymore.

Trying my best to look inconspicuous, I crept back over to the tables and leaned against a far one, breathing out a breath of relief.

“You are not a fan of social gatherings, no?” inquired a strongly accented voice.

I spun around. T’Challa, better known as the Black Panther, was sitting at the same table, his phone lying face down next to his hand.

I shook my head. T’Challa smiled and stood up, walking around to stand right in front of me. “Me neither. You know, when ever I’m at something like this, I try to appear as temporary as possible, never standing in one spot too long. Then not a lot of people have time to talk to you.”

I nodded thoughtfully. “Thanks for the advice.”

T’Challa looked around at the hundreds of people then back at me. “You needed it.” He smiled again and patted me on the shoulder, taking his phone and disappearing into the crowd.

Suddenly, the lights dimmed, and everyone stopped talking. All heads turned to the stage, where Tony now stood, microphone in hand.

“I hope everyone’s enjoying themselves?” he began with a smile. Everybody smiled and clapped, some yelling yes.

“Good. I want to thank all of you for coming here tonight in celebration of Pepper and I. It means a lot. Now, before the night is over, I thought we’d all have a little fun.”

More clapping and appreciative whistles rang through the air.

Tony kept smiling. “From this point forward, there will be open karaoke to anyone who feels like sharing their voice.”

More applause. More whistles. It was starting to make my ears hurt.

The lights stayed down as Tony left the stage and people began whispering, debating if they should sing or not.

“Hey, Autumn,” said Peter, suddenly by my side. I spared him a glance. “Hey.”

“Well, uh, you’ve made it this far, right?” Peter said playfully.

I sighed. “You have no idea.”

Things gradually started getting more boring. Young adults singing pop slowly rolled into older people singing painfully slow 60’s songs. When Thor got up on stage and started singing some kind of Asgardian opera song, I couldn’t take anymore. Me, Peter, Sam, and Stephen retreated to a back room and played pool.

Nearly ten minutes later, Thor’s drawling opera stopped and applause sounded that almost shattered my eardrums.

The four of us came back out to the main room to see people back talking or now just shuffling awkwardly in place, unsure of what to do. I spotted the rest of the Avengers laughing in a group. Tony and Pepper were slowly waltzing in an open space. I looked around at all the fancy decorations, the DJ table, the buffet table, everything Tony did for Pepper, because he loved her. 

I felt a twinge of guilt. What Peter and Wanda said earlier began to sink in. This wasn’t about me. This was about Tony and Pepper. I was being selfish and inconsiderate, complaining about everything. These people had the kindness to take me in and train me, teaching me to use my powers right, instead of leaving me out in the world as an outcast to figure them out myself. I should be thanking them.

A sudden idea popped into my head. It made me sweat and tremble, but I was determined to do it. Setting my jaw and putting my shoulders back, I marched to the stage. The guests stopped what they were doing to stare and watch. Even the Avengers wanted to see what I was going to do. All eyes on me, I whispered my desired song to the DJ, who nodded. I took a deep breath and shakily grabbed the microphone as the prelude to Ed Sheeran’s “Photograph” issued through the speakers and around the room. I took another deep breath, relaxed my shoulders, and sang from my heart.

Loving can hurt

Loving can hurt sometimes

But it's the only thing that I know

When it gets hard

You know it can get hard sometimes

It is the only thing makes us feel alive

We keep this love in a photograph

We made these memories for ourselves

Where our eyes are never closing

Hearts are never broken

And time's forever frozen still

So you can keep me

Inside the pocket of your ripped jeans

Holding me closer 'til our eyes meet

You won't ever be alone

Wait for me to come home

Everyone gaped and exchanged awed looks. Some mouthed ‘wow’. The Avengers were looking up at me with proud smiles. They, of course, had heard me sing before, so it wasn’t a big surprise to them. Peter was grinning, but was blushing at the same time, for some reason.

As I continued to sing, I noticed Tony with his arm around Pepper, standing in a small open space in the center of the crowd. Pepper was wiping away tears with her fingers.

When I'm away

I will remember how you kissed me

Under the lamppost back on Sixth street

Hearing you whisper through the phone

"Wait for me to come home"

The applause was monstrous. People cheered and whistled, the noise echoing very loudly around the room.

 I finished the song and did an awkward little curtesy, before hastily attaching the microphone back on its stand and hurriedly trotted down the steps of the stage.

My worst fear became a reality. A lot of the guests started to swarm me, and being pretty wealthy people themselves (how else were they friends with Tony?) began bombarding me with questions about my voice, such as asking if I had an agent, if I was a new, beginning artist, how long I had been singing, that sort of thing. Others simply showered me with compliments. 

For other people it might’ve been creepy, but for me it was fortunate when a random hand reached through the excited group and pulled me out by the shoulder.

“So you’re Autumn, right?” Pepper asked with a kind smile.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Thank you so much for singing tonight. Your voice is so beautiful and professional!”

I cracked a small, proud smile.

“How long have you been singing, exactly?” Pepper asked.

I answered the same question for the tenth time, “Since I was six. My uncle owns a voice and acting studio near my house back home in Washington.”

Pepper was silent for a second. “Photograph is one of my favorite songs,” she said at last. “It was the perfect song choice, and you executed it so extraordinarily. Thank you so much, Autumn.”

I smiled shyly and glanced at my feet. “No problem. It-it was fun.”

Pepper raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because you seemed a little anxious up there.”

My face burned scarlet. “I just have a little bit of stage fright,” I replied in a clipper tone than I meant.

Pepper’s smiled faltered subtly. “I’m sorry. It was nice meeting you, Autumn.”

I forced back my smile. “You too.”

I turned and walked back over to my table, sitting myself down again and covering my face with my hands.

“Au-Autumn?” said an all-too familiar voice.

I slowly lifted my head to see Peter standing behind me.

“Mmph,” I responded, letting my head drop back into my hands.

Peter cleared his throat and sat down in the chair next to me. “You-you did really great, singing up there.”

“Thanks,” I replied in a muffled voice.

“Um, are you ok?”

“Not really.”

“Why?”

“Guess.”

“People.”

“Close.”

“Lots of people.”

“Closer.”

“Having to talk to lots of people?”

“Closer.”

“Having to perform in front of lots of people?”

“Correct.”

Peter stared at me. “But you just sang in front of everyone—“

“That doesn’t mean I actually enjoyed doing it,” I cut him off with a look.

Peter still stared at me.

The lights dimmed all the way down, so that the only light came from the candles set up in the center of the tables.

“Oh, they’re doing this now?” I said with mild disgust, gesture with my hand towards everyone who were now waltzing and slow dancing across the dance floor. 

“Might as well just sit and watch,” Peter sighed.

For some reason he sounded disappointed.

The two of us just sat and on-looked the dancers. A while later Peter had gone over to the buffet table and brought back two Mt. Dews and some food.

When people were still dancing roughly around an hour later, Nat came over to us.

“Dance,” she hissed. Peter and I did double takes.

“Dance,” Nat repeated. “You two look stupid just sitting there!” And with that, she disappeared back into the crowd.

“Um, Autumn. . .?” Peter said, looking at me.

“What do I care?” I was muttering to myself. “I could care less about looking stupid, you look stupid. . .”

“Let’s dance,” Peter said abruptly.

I was snapped out of my thoughts and started choking. “Wait, what?!”

“C’mon,” Peter said, standing up.

“I refuse!” I declared rebelliously.

“Autumn, c’mon, we don’t want to make Nat angry.”

“Well, I’m a dragon! What can she do against me?”

“C’mon,” Peter repeated, this time more gently and with a small playful smile. He held his hand out to me.

I looked from his hand to his face, then back to his hand. I sighed. “It could be worse,” I begrudgingly admitted to myself. Hesitantly I took Peter’s hand and let him pull me to my feet. He led me onto the dance floor and started blushing like crazy. “Um, do you want to waltz or slow dance?”

“Whichever’s easiest,” I answered.

“Slow dance it is, then,” Peter muttered, his blush growing redder.

He gingerly placed his hands on my hips. A shiver went through my body and I cautiously wrapped my arms around his neck.

We started swaying back and forth, very awkwardly at first, not talking and avoiding eye contact. It was the most uncomfortable yet strangely satisfying thing I had ever done.

As the minutes ticked by, we began to move a little more relaxed, and we spared a few glances at each other’s faces.

It has been thirty minutes. Peter and I have somehow made our way into the center of the group. We started to spin a little bit, and I could feel a tiny smile trying to creep through my face.

I was just beginning to let my body and mind relax when something made me go rigid again. 

Peter was closing his eyes and was leaning in.

Panic exploded like fireworks in my brain. What is happening?! He can’t be trying to. . . No. Wait. OhmygoshyesheisohcrapohcrapIamnotreadyforthishelpmepleasesomebody.

We were nearly nose to nose now. My eyes were flitting desperately around the room, trying to find a way out.

“Um, Peter,” I said in a nervous tone.

Peter’s eyes snapped open. Gradually the blush started spreading throughout his face again, redder than ever. He drew back.

I internally breathed a very deep sigh of relief.

“S-sorry,” Peter said, his voice cracking epically.

“Um, yeah, erm. . . do you wanna. . . take a break or something?” I asked. I mentally cursed myself for sounding so awkward.

Peter nodded vigorously, and we rushed back to our table, avoiding eye contact the rest of the night.