Chapter 8

It has been two months since I discovered my powers, a revelation that has shifted my entire world. Clint and I have grown incredibly close during this time; he feels more like a brother than a mentor now. Steve and Tony often remind me of annoying uncles—one is quick to scold, while the other is always ready to join in on mischief. Their contrasting styles seem to complement each other, and I realise that this is part of what makes them such effective leaders. Nat, on the other hand, embodies the role of a nurturing aunt—her kindness is a balm, and she, along with Clint, has been diligently teaching me self-defence techniques, imparting both skills and confidence.

Petro and Wanda have stepped into the roles of siblings for me. Their laughter and shared adventures bring an indescribable warmth. As for Thor and Loki, they remain on Asgard, blissfully unaware that my secret has been revealed. There's a palpable tension between Sam and me; his demeanour suggests discomfort, and he tends to keep his distance. Bucky, meanwhile, is a different puzzle. I sense that he has a liking for me, but our conversations often falter, leaving us in an awkward silence.

Bruce has opened his lab to me, allowing me to work alongside him and Tony, a privilege that enriches my understanding of science and technology. Most of my time, though, has been spent in solitude by the dam. The sound of the water lapping against the rocky shore provides a therapeutic backdrop, despite Steve repeatedly cautioning me about its hidden dangers. Still, that doesn't deter Petro, Wanda, and me from our exhilarating rituals of cliff jumping. More often than not, it's just Wanda and me, immersed in the flow of our magic, manipulating the elements, while Vision occasionally joins us. However, with the weather now taking a grim turn—storms battering us day and night—our activities have been forced indoors.

Currently, five of our group—Steve, Nat, Bucky, Petro, and Sam—are away on a mission, while Clint is busy with his family. Wanda and Vision have become almost inseparable, their chemistry palpable. Bruce largely buries himself in his work, and Tony is off on a business trip, leaving me in the rather uncomfortable company of the two lovebirds and the quiet scientist.

We are currently watching our second movie of the day, having moved from the iconic lines of "Back to the Future" to the passionate dance of "Dirty Dancing." As I sit there, a sudden pull toward the dense forest outside captures my attention. My heart skips a beat.

"Bea," a voice calls softly.

"What did you say?" I ask, perplexed, glancing around the room.

"I didn't say anything," Bruce responds, a frown creasing his brow, concern lacing his tone. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, sorry. I thought... I thought you said something." That voice—it echoes in my mind, a familiar spectre that chills me.

"Bea."

"What was that?" I whisper to myself, anxiety gnawing at my insides. I know that voice all too well.

"I'm going to bed," I mutter, feeling the weight of the encounter pressing down on me. I retreat to my room, collapsing into sleep almost instantaneously.

Tonight, as has been the case for the past four nights, I find myself reliving the same haunting dream.

"Bea. Bea, where are you?" The icy voice beckons, slicing through the darkness as I sprint toward it, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I disregard the sharp stones cutting across my feet or the jagged branches clawing at my arms; nothing matters but answering the call. I run like the wind. Suddenly, I trip—plummeting into the depths of the water. It envelops me, suffocating and searing my throat as I struggle to reach the surface.

When I break free, I find myself engulfed in a hot, sticky black substance that clings to me like tar. My vision blurs as it seeps into my eyes, poisoning my blood and stinging every nerve. The feeling of warmth morphs into a blaze, igniting my skin from within. I'm on fire. "Bea. You. Need. To. Help. Us." The message punctuates my torment. Flashes of animals and souls being slaughtered invade my mind, a mosaic of suffering that leaves me screaming in agony.

I jerk awake with a start, a scream escaping my lips, only to find Bruce and Vision standing over me. Their faces are etched with fear and confusion. I step back, horror creeping into my heart. I did this to them. They're frightened of me. Tears brim in my eyes as I dash to my room, slamming the door behind me. I lock it, crouching down until I become a tight ball of vulnerability, desperate to escape the weight of the world pressing in on me.

Bruce P.O.V

I immerse myself in the hushed confines of my lab, the dim light casting long shadows on the walls filled with blueprints and complex equations. My gaze remains glued to the textbook in front of me, focused on the intricate formulas and mechanisms that Tony urged me to decipher. Frustration mounts as I come up short, the answers eluding me like a fleeting shadow. Suddenly, a persistent sound interrupts my thoughts—*Drip. Drip. Drip.* It's a rhythmic cadence that has haunted me for the past four nights at exactly three o'clock, a ghostly reminder of something unsettling.

"Ugh. Fine. Let's see what's making that noise," I mutter to myself, pushing back from the desk and stepping out of my lab. I lock the door behind me, the metallic click echoing in the stillness. Drawing closer to the source of the dripping, I find Vision standing in the corridor, his normally calm demeanour tinged with urgency.

"Really? You're the one causing all this racket?" I remark incredulously.

"Ssshhhhhuuussshhh," he replies, cutting me off as he gestures toward Bea, who is slumped in a corner, completely drenched. Her feet are a gruesome sight—bloodied and raw, as though she had been walking through a battlefield.

"What the hell happened?" I exclaim, concern flooding my voice.

"She's been like this for the last three nights," Vision explains quickly, stepping closer as though every sound might wake her. "Don't wake her. She is still asleep."

"Really? She looks like she could use some help," I argue, stepping forward.

Suddenly, I notice black gloop coiling around her, adhering to her skin like a sinister embrace. "What is that? We have to wake her up!" I insist.

"No, we can't. It appears to be some kind of oil," Vision warns calmly.

"What the hell! I'm waking her up!" My frustration boils over, and our whispered bickering escalates as we look back at Bea. A shocking light fills the air, and within moments, she ignites in a swirling sphere of turquoise flames.

"What the hell!" I gasp, shocked by the sudden eruption of fire.

"It looks like it's protecting her?" Vision muses, his eyes wide with fascination as the ethereal flames cascade down her body. They seem to consume the oil, pulling it away from her as they drip onto the floor, melting the very surface beneath us.

Abruptly, Bea collapses to the floor, and as she awakens, the brilliant fire extinguishes itself in an instant. The oil and water evaporate like mist, leaving her feet miraculously healed, the floor restored to its original state.

"What happened?" she demands, her voice startling both of us. We jump back instinctively from her sudden presence. "What happened?" she repeats, growing more frantic.

Vision instinctively steps back, and in that moment, she catches the fear reflected in our eyes. Before we can respond, Bea bolts from the room, tears streaming down her cheeks, leaving us in stunned silence.

I chase after her, but when I reach her door, it's locked tight. "Can't you just walk through?" I turn to Vision, desperation lacing my voice.

"No, there's an energy force field around her. I can't penetrate it," he admits, his usually calm expression marred by concern. We fall into silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on us.

As the sun rises around 7 AM, I pick up my phone and call Fury, urging him to rally the rest of the team. Those who can are quick to return home. "Hey, Bea?" I call hopefully into the void. No response. "Uh, the rest of the team is coming home," I repeat, my voice hollow. "We just want to make sure you're okay."

The silence drags on until I feel a presence next to me. "Can I try?" I glance over to see Wanda stepping forward, her expression softening as she approaches the door.

"Sure, go ahead," I nod, stepping back to give her space.

"Hey, Bea. It's me, Wanda. Can I come in?" she calls gently.

A moment passes, and I hear a muffled voice from within. "No, I just want to be on my own," Bea replies, her voice cracking.

"Please." Wanda's tone is filled with compassion.

"Wanda, I can't control it anymore! I don't want to hurt you or Bruce!" Bea cries, her words heavy with despair.

"You won't hurt us," Wanda reassures her.

"You don't know that! You didn't see the fear in their eyes. I'm a monster!" Bea's voice rises with panic.

"You are not a monster," I interject firmly. "There's only room for one monster in this building." I attempt to inject some levity into the tense atmosphere.

"I guess. Good thing there's only one. Don't be too hard on Hulk; he's actually a nice guy," she replies, attempting a weak smile. "And don't worry, I've already taken your job; you're still the science genius. Please, I just want to sleep."

Her forced cheerfulness breaks my heart.

"Oh, okay. We'll come back later." I agree reluctantly, feeling the weight of her pain linger in the air.

A few hours later, the team's energy fills the space as Tony, Steve, Nat, Bucky, Sam, and Pietro return home, but despite their best efforts, they can't reach Bea.

"Is she talking at all?" Tony asks, concern etched on his face.

"Barely," I respond. "She'll talk to Wanda and me, but she's not opening up to anyone else."

"Has anyone managed to get in touch with Clint?" Tony inquires, his brow furrowing in thought.

"Yes, but we can't get through to him. Why?" I reply.

"She sees him as a father," he says slowly, his eyes narrowing.

"Okay?" I respond, unsure of where he's leading.

"She's also asking for him," he clarifies, a plan forming in his mind. "Alright, I can see what I can do."

3rd P.O.V

"It's been three days, and she still hasn't emerged," Bruce exclaimed, a look of worry etched across his features as he stepped into the dimly lit room. The soft hum of unease settled over the small group gathered in the lounge. "She won't eat. She has to come out at some point."

Bucky leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "Did Fury go see her?" he asked, his voice low and steady, hoping for any shred of good news.

"Yeah," Steve replied, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "He visited her this morning. Says she's all good but offered nothing else—just vague reassurances." The clock on the wall ticked loudly, marking the late hour. It was 11 PM, and the rest of the team had finally returned, though Loki and Thor were still on Asgard, and Clint remained unreachable, spending precious time with his family.

"I just don't understand how we missed it," Steve continued, his brow furrowing in deep thought. "She was doing fine—no panic attacks, no sudden outbursts. Nothing."

"Do you think this has something to do with her Naturalist side?" Sam suggested, his tone contemplative as he leaned in closer to the conversation.

"The animal side," Bucky added, nodding slowly.

"Naturalist. It's been all over the news," Steve corrected, his frustration evident. He paused, drawing the group's attention. "The oil spill and wildfires."

"What do you mean?" Sam inquired, curiosity piqued.

"The wildfires are devastating. I've seen the footage," Bucky explained somberly. "When I asked Fury if she had any connection to nature, he said it hadn't come up before. So, there's a possibility this is all linked."

"The flames," Bruce interjected suddenly, a spark of realisation igniting in his eyes as everyone turned to him, confusion etched across their faces. "The flames—they were blue."

"And?" Steve asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

Bruce continued, his voice urgent. "They were not the usual intensely hot electric blue. They were turquoise," he clarified, his eyes flashing with intensity. "When those flames reached the floor, they didn't just burn; they dissolved it. The entire surface vanished. But when she woke up, the mark was gone."

"Well, that makes perfect sense," Tony scoffed, sarcasm dripping from his words, his scepticism evident.

"What do you mean?" Pietro asked, bewilderment flickering in his eyes.

Tony rolled his eyes. "She once mentioned having five powers: elemental control, naturalism, telekinesis, portals, and poison manipulation"—he paused for effect, glancing around the room—"including the ability to make objects poisonous. That fire and oil you saw? It came from her."

Wanda nodded in agreement, her brow furrowing as she contemplated their situation. "She has a nearly uncanny immunity. She can handle poison ivy and dip her hands into acid without any repercussions."

"Wait, what acid? When did she put her hand in acid?" Steve interjected, a flash of anger in his voice. There was a tense silence as Wanda shrank back, realising the weight of her words. "Wanda?"

"We were just testing," she replied innocently, her wide eyes revealing her unease.

"Sir, a health check on Miss Bea is incomplete," Friday chimed in, her voice cutting through the tension.

"What?!" Tony exclaimed, shock evident in his expression. "Why?"

"Bea is not in her room. She hasn't been there for two days," Friday explained calmly.

"You're telling me this now?" Tony shouted, frustration bubbling over.

"She disabled my access for two days," Friday responded matter-of-factly.

"That clever little genius," Tony said with a resigned sigh, running a hand down his face. "Two days?" Steve echoed, concern lacing his voice. "Where could she be?"

"She's not anywhere on the premises," Friday clarified, her tone unyielding.

"Could she be hiding in the same spot where she went when we first discovered her abilities?" Natasha suggested thoughtfully, her gaze darting around the room.

"I'll go check," Wanda decided, determination flooding her voice.

With that, each member of the team dispersed, their minds racing as they fanned out in search of Bea. Hours passed, fraught with tension, and as they reconvened, each returned empty-handed, their faces painted with worry.

Meanwhile, Bea found herself in the heart of the serene countryside, farther away than anyone could have imagined, alongside the unreachable Bartons, embraced by swirling emotions and raw power.