Shifter

Steve is panicked and terrified. The rest of the team can tell, as they watch him sitting alone in the corner, his head hung low as he wrings his hands. It’s been three days since you were taken. Peter is restless, popping into the science lab to check for updates, flying around the city like crazy as he tries to distract himself. Tony isn’t eating – he’s locked himself in his lab, furiously running through CCTV cameras and any sort of tracking devices he could use to find you. Clint and Natasha have patrolled the streets of New York over a dozen times – Nat can tell that Clint is blaming himself, as every time they return empty handed he punches something and heads to the range to practice. Bruce is trying to keep the team alive – running around with food and drink to make people eat, checking up on Peter every so often, trying to stop Clint from breaking his knuckles.

They are all going insane, trying to find you, while the H.Y.D.R.A. scientists who ruined your life in the first place are trying to reverse the serum, the one thing keeping you alive and healthy. You might go insane, you realize, staring at the white ceiling of the laboratory, during one of the brief periods that they aren’t injecting you with something. According to the ‘doctor’, they began to give you powers before you were rescued – not just the shapeshifting, but some form of destruction - some form of energy manipulation. Apparently. They try you almost every hour. Injection, electric shocks, five minutes rest, then testing. They shock you until you feel like you can’t breathe, expecting the room to start to collapse or the table to flip. So far, all that’s happened is that your throat is raw from screaming and your lungs hurt from the effort of trying to breathe.

The worst part? This is exactly what you remembered from when you were a child. It hasn’t gotten any easier. “We need you awake.” A voice says, and you let your eyes flicker down from the ceiling towards the door, where a guard stands staring expectantly at you.

“Just taser me and drag me away – that worked well enough for you last time.” Your retort is short, as your throat feels raw, but you watch the guard roll his eyes and approach the table, pulling your restraints off and dragging you off. You offer little resistance – what’s the point? – and they lead you to another big metal door. Only this one, you remember vividly.

“No.” You manage, your voice raw, as they push in the passcode. “No.” You manage again, more firmly, as the door swings open to reveal the dark testing room you can remember very clearly, from both your childhood and the video Tony found in the H.Y.D.R.A. files. They push you towards the chair, and you’re too weak to resist. They tie your arms down, and your ankles, and as much as you pull against the cuffs you can’t break them.

The doctor approaches you, syringe in hand, and just before you can start to panic a guard bursts into the room.

“Sir we’re – We’re under attack.” The doctor whips around, and a glimmer of hope blossoms in your stomach. He glances at you, as if trying to decide what to do, and you spit at him, defiance in your eyes. He drops the syringe on a table, turning and bringing two of the four guards with him.

“No one comes in here, no one leaves. Understood?” He commands, and they all nod at once. Are they here? Did they find you? You ask yourself, just as a commotion is heard down the hall. The sound of something hitting the door causes the hope to strengthen, and you watch as the door is flung open to reveal Steve – his lip is bust open, his hair is mussed up from the helmet having been pulled off, but his eyes light up with victory when they see you.

But before you can rejoice, he falls forwards, taser wires sticking out of his back, and you try to lunge forwards. “No! Stop it, please!” You beg, watching him writhe on the ground, and when the electricity stops, he’s hauled to his feet by two of the guards. The doctor saunters in after him, placing the used taser on the table, and stands next to you.

“Well, at least he tried.” He chuckles, his voice amused, and you jerk away from him when he touches your face. “Now that he’s here, we can have an audience, can’t we?” Steve tugs on the arms holding him, only for one of them to prod him with something that shocks him again, and he slumps to the ground.

“I don’t know why you try – I mean, you’re not going to win, and now you’re going to watch us finish off the experiments. Won’t that be fun?” The doctor asks again, picking the syringe off the table and undoing your bonds, pulling you to your feet – you try to lunge out at him, but it’s pathetic, and he just sighs and holds the syringe to your neck. “I mean, what did you think was going to happen, sending ONE MAN after her?” At that, he turns to get a reply from Steve, and you’re both surprised to find Steve smiling as shouting can be heard from down the hall.

“You really think I came alone?” He asks.

When the door bursts open, the doctor strengthens his grip on you, pushing the syringe all the way into your neck and pressing down on the handle. “NO!” You hear from the door, before an arrow flies past you and into his shoulder, causing him to drop you. You can feel whatever is now in your veins coursing through you, and you no longer have the strength to stay upright. Peter’s face appears above you, and he pulls off the mask to reveal his soft brown eyes – something you never thought you’d see again.

“Hold on. Hold on, okay?” Peter asks, shaking you slightly, and you smile.

“I knew you’d find me.” You say, your vision blurring slightly.

“No – come on, keep your eyes open. See? Everyone’s here, everyone’s-”

“Pete. It’s okay.” You whisper, squeezing his hand, and he just shakes his head, unable to find the right words as your eyes close and you go limp.

He lurches forwards, hand stretched under your nose, and slumps back in relief as he feels your breath. “She’s still breathing.”

“Shit. Shit.” Tony mutters.

“What? What is it?” Steve demands, struggling up from the ground, and grabbing the vial from the syringe.

“It’s what was killing her in the first place. The serum to reverse the effects – my serum, it’s all gone. They’ve been pumping her with this stuff and I don’t–” Tony is interrupted by Steve, who’s voice now has a particular edge to it.

“What can we do? How do we… How can we save her?” He asks, and Peter turns his attention away from the conversation and back towards your limp body.

“Mr. Stark, can you make more?” He asks, and Tony nods.

“We just have to get her back home.”

----

You almost laugh out loud when you wake up to the same ceiling you were confined to for so long, such a long time ago. Tony’s lab looks the same, and the steady hum of his machinery is comforting. When you try to sit up, though, you wince and fall back, your limbs feel like they’re on fire. “Hey – don’t do that.” Peter says, and you turn to find him sitting in a chair next to the makeshift bed.

“Hey.” You say, voice croaky, and his hand finds yours and squeezes.

“You didn’t hold on for me.” He mutters, and your cast your eyes around the room.

“How long have I been out?” You ask, and the sound of the door opening causes you to turn around.

“A day or two.” Tony replies, standing next to you. “How do you feel?” Before you can reply, JARVIS’ mechanical voice echoes out into the room.

“Her vitals are good, all signs of the toxins are gone and–”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Thank you, Jarv.”

You chuckle. “Better. I – How long was I… You know.” You glance around, and Peter looks down at the ground.

“A week. We tried to find you, but there was no trace. You just disappeared.”

You nod, glancing at your feet, before turning back to Tony. “How’s Steve?”

He rolls his eyes. “You were gone for a week and you’re – whatever, he’s fine. A little worn out, but fine. I’ll let him know you’re up–”

As if on cue the door bursts open, and the rest of the team floods in. You smile as you look up at your family, answering their questions and offering Tony your arm so he can check your pulse, then letting Clint hug you, then Bruce offers you water and food, and slowly they all filter out to let you ‘get some rest’. Peter stands up to leave but your hand darts out, pulling him back. “Thanks for finding me.” You smile, and he leans down and kisses your forehead.

“Anytime.”