Chapter 7

Bea P.O.V

"Hello, Bea. It has been a while," Nick says, his tone a mix of relief and apprehension.

"What are you doing here?" I reply, caught off guard by his sudden appearance.

"Well, I wanted to make sure everything was alright, that you weren't hurt or still missing," he says, taking a cautious step towards me, his eyes scanning for any signs of distress.

"Where did you go?" Steve inquires, his brow furrowed with worry.

"The lake," I reply quickly, hoping it's a sufficient answer.

"But we checked there," Steve retorts, an edge of frustration creeping into his voice.

"Did you check it? She can hold her breath for quite some time," Wanda interjects, tightening her grip on my hand, as if drawing strength from me.

"No, we did not," Sam replies sternly, his gaze directed at Wanda as if he might turn his aggression on her. I instinctively pull her closer, sensing the tension rising in the air.

Picking up on the charged atmosphere, Nat suggests gently, "Why don't you guys sit down?" She flashes a diplomatic smile, though I can sense her underlying mistrust of me. It's a stark contrast to Sam's hostility.

Steve and Tony settle back into their original seats, while Sam insists on standing, fidgeting slightly as if bracing himself for any sudden outburst from me. "I just want to be ready in case you zap someone again," he mutters.

Wanda and I choose the space between Vision and Bucky on the sofa, a visual buffer against the rest of the group—Nat, Clint, and Pietro on the opposite sofa, while Steve and Tony occupy a pair to our left. Nick and Bruce keep their distance, seated at a small table that separates them from the unfolding drama.

"I hear that Bea is okay. How about you? No one was hurt by her," Nick announces with an authoritative tone.

"No one's hurt, Fury," Steve replies tersely. "But we wouldn't be in this situation if you had told us."

"I did. I sent you the file."

"What file?" Vision questions, clearly puzzled.

"Her file," Nick insists, looking frustrated.

"We didn't get a file," Nat interjects, her brow knitting in confusion.

"You should have... Bea," Nick trails off, his gaze shifting to me. "You didn't."

"I did," I mutter, my chin lowering in shame. "Sorry."

"Sorry? Bea, do you realise how dangerous that is? This is my team—MY TEAM! I am the one who assigns people to them. It's my responsibility to ensure their safety," he retorts, his voice rising with each word.

"You didn't have to send me here," I snap back, feeling the anger surge within me.

"Damn it, Bea," he exclaims, slamming his hand on the table as he stands up, frustration etched across his face. "I am trying to keep you safe—out of a ditch, away from HYDRA."

"Okay, maybe we should take this elsewhere. We wouldn't want these guys to know the real you—the one who dumped me here," I say, my voice rising as the tension in the room thickens.

He exhales heavily. "I am the only one keeping you safe."

"I didn't ask you to," I shoot back, the bitterness in my words evident. "I was doing fine on my own. I don't need your help or your so-called Avengers. I was better off before you got involved."

"Better? Really?" he says, disbelief evident in his expression as he grabs my wrist, revealing a small white scar that runs along my arm. "Was this doing okay? Was it?"

I pull my arm away, retreating into the kitchen. "Huh? Was it?"

"No, it wasn't. And I am internally grateful that you sent Clint instead of yourself to deal with me," I reply, fury fueling my words as I throw a glance back at him. "Because you're always too busy with S.H.I.E.L.D. to actually do anything meaningful. I still don't understand why you told my dad, your best friend's husband and your college friend that you would look after me. Because you don't give a shit about me." My hands tremble as I clutch a glass in frustration, feeling the heat of my rising emotions melt it into a puddle on the floor, the water evaporating instantly.

"You need to calm down," he urges, his voice low but firm.

"Really? You don't want to see what I can do. Oh, wait, you already know. You never really cared; you just wanted to ensure the job got done."

Nick groans, running a hand over his head, his expression revealing a mixture of frustration and concern. "Of course, I care about what happens to you. I just wish you would trust my decisions more."

"Well, it's kind of hard to trust when your childhood was either filled with happy moments or plagued with the dark reality of letting me use my powers for spying on bad guys and dragging me into missions that could have killed me. To be honest, I loved all that chaos. What I didn't love was the fact that after you needed Dad and me, you dropped us like we were nothing—no longer useful to the great Nick Fury."

"I am sorry that is what it felt like to you, but it was your dad's wish," he states, trying to hold his ground.

"My dad did not wish for that. He wished I had never thrust onto him. He wanted me to go to my aunts, not to him," I insist, my voice rising.

"That's not true; he wanted you," Nick counters, his voice firm.

"Bullshit! I heard you guys when I came. I heard it. Yes, I was four, but when you lose your mother because of yourself and then find out you have a father who doesn't want you and a godfather who is too busy for you, that sticks with someone. Especially someone who doesn't fit in with 'normal' people."

Silence envelops the room. No one dares to speak; everyone is wary of provoking further conflict.

"I am sorry," I finally say, my gaze softening as I look up at him. "I know you care. I know you mean well, but the way I was raised by my dad and an amazing assassin," I nod towards Clint, "and under the watch of the boss, I'm pretty sure that shapes my inability to trust easily."

"I understand that, and if I had the chance to raise you differently, I would. But I can't change the past," he replies, sincerity replacing his previous anger. I hold up my fist, and he reciprocates with a light bump, an explosion gesture at the end. We both share a brief smile, a flicker of connection amidst the chaos.

Hugs haven't been a part of my world since Dad passed away, and I completely stopped engaging in them once I hit my teenage years. We make our way back to the others, and I settle onto the floor beside Bucky's feet, seeking a moment of comfort in a familiar space.

"Are you okay?" Wanda asks gently, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"Yep," I reply, mustering a smile that I hope conveys my well-being.

"Until next time," Nick says, his tone light but final. With that, he slips out of the room, leaving behind a hushed silence.

It's Bucky who finally shatters the stillness. "So, where did you go?" he inquires, glancing at me with a hint of concern in his gaze. "When we couldn't find you..."

"Nowhere," I respond, my eyes fluttering down to the floor.

"Nowhere?" Tony chimes in, skepticism etched across his features as he gestures toward my bandaged hands, a patchwork of leaves and medical tape artfully obscuring the foliage. "I'd love to see this 'nowhere.' Did you fall, or did you make something else fall instead?"

I drop my gaze, feeling the weight of their expectations. "Huh. Look, Bea, we just want to help," Tony continues, his voice softer now.

"I... punched a wall," I admit quietly, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"I'd love to see the wall," he says, taking a sip of something that looks suspiciously like rum or whiskey, his eyes gleaming with intrigue.

"Right now, I could really use a drink," I reply, reaching out with my left hand to grab a bottle of Coca-Cola resting on the floor.

"So, what else can you do?" Pietro asks, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm as though he's a child eager to hear a magical tale.

I glance at Clint, who seems amused as he leans back slightly. "You might as well show them. It's your choice. I already know what you can do, so why not let them see what you're made of?" His smile takes on a slightly menacing quality that I can't help but mirror.

"Wait, I just want to know what you are," Sam interjects, his curiosity palpable. "Like, what are your powers?"

"Well, first of all, Sam. That's your name, right?" I tease, eliciting chuckles from Bucky and Tony, easing the tension. "I'm a human, like you. Just a bit more advanced and evolved in some ways." I gesture towards Steve. "I've never harmed any of you, aside from the slight incident of electrocuting your boyfriend, Capsicle."

"Capsicle? That's my nickname," Tony interjects with a smirk.

"My apologies, Grouchy," I retort, drawing more laughter from the group.

"He is not my boyfriend," Steve declares, his tone firm.

"Okay, okay, okay," I say, raising my hands in mock surrender to diffuse the situation. "How about we put our differences aside and call it a truce?" I extend my hand, and for a brief moment, the air hangs heavy with anticipation. Everyone watches, the intensity palpable. Finally, Steve takes my hand, only for me to zap him lightly with a jolt of energy. He's quick to let go, startled, while the others burst into laughter. "I'm sorry, but you really should have seen that coming," I say with a grin.

"Ha, alright. I'm getting you back for that," he promises, determination flickering in his eyes.

"I wouldn't if I were you; she is the queen of pranks," Clint warns, clearly enjoying the unfolding banter.

"Well, she hasn't met us yet," Pietro boasts playfully, his competitive spirit shining through.

Laughter fills the room again as I settle back down on the floor, feeling a sense of camaraderie building.

"Seriously, though, what can you do?" Bruce asks, his tone genuine and probing as he appears eager to learn.

"I have three main powers," I explain, taking a deep breath to structure my thoughts. "Firstly, I have elemental manipulation. I can control fire, earth, water, and air. Each element has different categories, and when they blend, the results can be fascinating and unpredictable." I notice Bruce furiously scribbling down notes, his passion for science evident. "Hey, Bruce," I say, catching his attention. "After this, how about I swing by your lab to give you a more detailed rundown?"

"Okay, thanks!" he replies, genuinely enthusiastic.

"Um... where was I?" I ask, trying to recall my train of thought.

"Elemental!" Natasha reminds me with a supportive smile.

"Ah, yes! I also have a gift as a Naturalist. I can communicate with animals and heal them. Once I heal an animal, we form a bond. The more time I spend with them or the more I heal them, the stronger that bond becomes."

"So, you and Koda? You genuinely have a bond?" Pietro queries, nodding as if he understands.

"Exactly," I confirm.

"Portals? You can send people to different places?" Vision interrupts, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"No, I can become a ghost," I clarify. "My soul can leave my body and roam freely. My physical form will continue its actions, while my subconscious controls it. I can navigate through time and space and even take others' souls with me, though that's extremely dangerous."

"Yeah, don't you dare try that," Clint warns, his protective instincts kicking in.

"The last time I attempted it, I fell into a coma for six-and-a-half months," I admit, recalling the dark memories.

"So you don't really plan on doing that again, right?" Steve asks, a hint of worry creeping into his voice.

"No, she does not," Clint interjects, casting a sidelong glance at me for reassurance.

"I don't," I affirm, hoping to ease their concerns.