Shifter

A concrete cell with a thin, barely-there window, at the end of a dark hallway, behind a thick steel door guarded by highly trained soldiers and locked with a high-tech keypad. Your eyes widen to adjust to the low lighting, taking in the dark corners of the cold and suffocating room as your heart begins to beat erratically. This couldn't be possible - this cell had been your room almost four years ago before S.H.I.E.L.D. had stormed the H.Y.D.R.A. facility and rescued you. This isn't real, you aren't there, this has to be a dream. You rock back and forth, your arms wrapped protectively around your knees as you squeeze your eyes tight and try to picture your room at the Avengers base.

"This isn't real, I'm safe, they can't get to me..." You mutter to yourself, repeating the mantra you'd been taught to break yourself out of your nightmares.

You know when it's worked because your mouth tears open in a gasp as your body sits up, your heartbeat pounding against your ribcage as you force yourself to adjust to the dark room - your dark room, with your things and without any soldiers or doctors or scientists. Your bedroom, even in the low early-morning light, forces your heart rate to slow down, a feeling of safety enveloping you and replacing the panic that had seized your veins moments prior. Your sheets are strewn around, half on the floor and half wrapped around your legs as evidence of the nightmare. Kicking the rest of the sheets away, you allow the cool night air to wash over your body without a barrier, helping you wake up fully and register the difference between the nightmare and reality. Reaching across to your nightstand, your fingertips flick your lamp on, and in the stark orange light, you realize what feels so different.

Your hands are different, with more slender fingers and manicured nails. Your eyes drag up your hands and across your arms, taking in the difference before you finally push yourself off the bed and stand in front of the mirror. The face that greets you is the face of your mother from your one and only photograph of her. Your hair is the same as hers, suddenly adorned in the same makeup and jewelry from the image. Reaching down to your nightstand you lift up the picture frame containing the old photograph. Your mom is smiling, an arm slung around your father and there's scribbled text along the bottom edge of the image - 'Nick, we wish you were here!'

You smile and force yourself to shift back, glancing in the reflective silver border of the frame to make sure your face and hair looks the same before you place the frame back on the nightstand and let yourself sit back down. This is not the first time a nightmare has stressed you out to the point of shifting - the very first time it had happened was a month after you'd been brought to the base, and in your nightmare-fueled panic you'd turned into Natasha. Clint, who had been in the room next to you at the time, had burst and in subsequently screamed at the sight of Natasha sat in your bed and your pajamas screaming at him. Your grasp on your powers, although better than before, is still limited and in your sleep, you lose all control over them.

"Miss Y/N, shall I alert Mr. Stark of your condition?" FRIDAY's voice comes on over the comms and you startle slightly, still not used to the A.I. being everpresent in every room. 

"No, I'm fine, thank you FRIDAY." You say, before tilting your head and adding, "Is anyone else awake?"

There's a pause when you know the A.I. is scanning the rooms for activity before her voice comes on again. "Mr. Rogers is awake and in the gym. Would you like me to call him for you?" She asks, and you shake your head before realizing she can't see you.

"No, FRIDAY, that'll be all, thank you." When there's no reply, you slide your feet into your slippers, slipping on a hoodie before padding out into the empty hallway, smiling in appreciation when the lights turn on as they recognize movement. The use of movement activated lights in the communal areas has always comforted you, allowing you safe spaces to retreat to when your nightmares get too bad. The constant darkness of your old cell had instilled a fear of the dark that you can't shake no matter how hard you remind yourself of your security in the Avengers base.

The elevator at the end of the hallway slides open without you having to press a button or anything - Stark Technology still amazes you - and you state your name and floor level before it smoothly begins to go down. The doors open with a ding, and before your feet have even stepped out of the elevator you can hear the repetitive thump sounds of Steve beating the punching bag. You sit on one of the benches a little bit away from him, turning away and facing the other side of the gym to give him his privacy. There's a final, definitive thump and then the sound of the seams splitting and the sand spilling out as the bag hits the wall on the other side of the gym. You glance back in time to see him turning towards you, unwrapping the tape around his knuckles as he walks over to you.

"Hey." You greet as he sits next to you, pulling a towel over his shoulders and wiping his forehead.

"What's wrong? Another nightmare?" Steve asks, his brow tugged down over concerned blue eyes as you nod. "You okay?" His voice is soft and gentle, constantly on dad-mode when around you.

"I think so. I just-" You stop, staring at your hands where you fiddle with the edges of your sleeves. "I changed into my mom for the first time. Her picture, at least." 

He sits still for a moment, pondering your words as you look up at him. "You must have been thinking about her, then. Was your dream about her?" You shake your head, and his brow furrows even more. "It was the same nightmare as usual, then." 

You nod. "I'm okay, though, I really am. I tried the, uh, mantra thing that Dr. Cho was telling me about. Broke me out before..." You trail off, not wanting to illustrate what normally happens in the nightmares and bring it all back into the front of your mind.

"That's good - that's really good, Y/N. If you can break yourself out of it before- well, you know, maybe you can begin to move on." Steve puts a hand on your shoulder, squeezing slightly as you give him a small smile. Next thing you know his arm is slung around you and you squeal, standing up quickly. 

"God, Steve, you smell gross and you're super sweaty." You exclaim, shuddering theatrically as he laughs. "We can get all touchy-feely when you've showered." You state, offering him a hand to help him stand. Of course, he doesn't need it - he's a super soldier that could lift men twice your size up without breaking a sweat, but he accepts anyways and claps you on the back.

"I'll hold you to that. What time is it, anyway?" He asks, and you glance at the clock above the elevator.

"7:15." 

"Come on, I suppose people will be starting to wake up now - I think Clint bought more of those coffee capsule things you like so much, and I'm pretty sure we have enough eggs if you wanted to-"

He's cut off by FRIDAY's voice coming in over the loudspeaker. "Sorry for the intrusion, Captain, but Mr. Stark is requesting both of your presences. He says that we are to be expecting a 'General Ross', sir." 

Steve's jaw clenches as FRIDAY cuts off, and you look up at him. "What does Ross want?" You ask, and he frowns, shaking his head.

"Let's go find out."

Sat in the conference room, surrounded by the people you consider a family, you begin to chew anxiously on your thumbnail as General Ross speaks about Sokovia and Washington D.C. With each sentence, the tension in the room grows and you become angrier, but you don't let it show. No, you sit in the corner and wait for him to finish. As the youngest Avenger, you have no standing in the relations with the government, and you respect that. 

"...And I see that Miss Y/L/N has still never been used in combat." Ross says, causing you to snap your head up and look at him. Steve tenses next to you, placing a hand on your arm and leaning forwards, subconsciously shielding you slightly from the General. Tony also looks at you, eyes narrowed as if reassuring you and also checking in on you, before calmly turning back to General Ross.

"And?" Tony asks, eyebrow raised. 

"And?" Ross echoes, glancing between Steve and Tony who sit on either side of you. "Gentlemen, I'm aware of the somewhat paternal bond you've formed over her-" You bristle as he refers to you in the third person. "But she is still a powered individual, a member of this team, and yet she has never been used. We still don't know the extent of her abilities. The tests that were done when she was first brought in - tests that were done by you, Stark, in case you'd forgotten -showed signs of advanced abilities and even-"

"That's enough." Steve cuts in, his head snapping up from looking at his lap to stare the General dead in the eyes. "Y/N's right here, and she's not ready for the field. End of discussion." 

Ross scoffs. "Mr. Rogers, I'm aware of your status as an icon but you do not hold the highest jurisdiction here. The Avengers are under the U.S. Government's jurisdiction, and as the Secretary of State, that means you report to me."

You watch as Tony smiles falsely, leaning forwards as well. "Last time I checked we weren't under anyone's jurisdiction, Mr. Secretary."

"That's because you haven't checked since this was put together." Ross says, dropping a thick book onto the table and poking the front with his finger. "The Sokovia Accords." 

Wanda picks up the book, casting a glance back at Steve before passing the book to Rhodey.

"For the past four years, you've operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That's an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate. This is the solution." Ross pauses, smugness plastered over his face. "Approved by 117 countries, it states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they'll operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary."

"So, what - we become a private army?" You question, but Steve sends you a warning look and you lean back into your chair.

"Tell me, Miss Y/L/N, what organization saved you from that H.Y.D.R.A. base?" Ross questions, and you glance uneasily at Tony. 

"S.H.I.E.L.D." You answer. 

"Correct. Now, since S.H.I.E.L.D. was a corrupt organization and is now gone, do you know who gained the assets and information that they once held?" 

"Uh... The Government?" You guess, and he smiles triumphantly. 

"And when you were rescued, do you remember what you were classified as while at H.Y.D.R.A.?" 

You wince at his wording but nod. "I was an asset- and, uh, a weapon." 

"Right," Ross says, turning to look at everyone in the room before settling his cold gaze back on you. "And S.H.I.E.L.D. took hold of all assets and weaponry gained while raiding H.Y.D.R.A., and then the Government took hold of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s." 

You furrow your brow. "Okay?"

"Miss Y/L/N, that means that you, as an asset, belong to the U.S. Government." 

His words spark a fury in Steve, who tenses next to you and turns to the General. "Absolutely not." He practically snarls, and you see Tony straighten as if only now taking this seriously."

"Again, Captain Rogers, you don't have the authority in this room. To answer your question, Miss Y/L/N, you are already part of a private army, and you should be grateful that you have not been claimed as such in the past. Three days from now, the U.N. meets in Vienna to ratify the Accords." He pauses, a smile tugging his lips as he takes in the tense positions of every person in the room. "Talk it over."