Running On Instinct

Summary:

After the death of Carol Danvers, a mutant known as Hunter finds herself taking up her teacher's mantel as a mutant consultant for SHIELD. Neither party are prepared for everything that follows.

Author's Note:

I do not own any of the Marvel characters you may recognize, nor am I making any profit from this writing. This story is going to follow Hunter, and starts about a two years before the events of the first Iron Man movie. This will follow other movies, but will branch off of canon following the events of Winter Soldier and Ultron. While most of the Avengers story line follows the Marvel Cinematic Universe, all of the X-Men aspects are pulled from comic basis. Now, my original character is a neutrally alligned mutant, so some of her mutant friends are Xavier's, some of them are Brotherhood, and some of them are sold to the highest bidder (Deadpool is known to make visits as he passes through). So, you will be seeing more than just X-Men characters.

Also, this will eventually be a Bucky/OFC story, but will not center around romance. No, this is Hunter's story, and how she overcomes the difficulties her mutation provides her. Let me know what you guys think, leave a review. I like to hear constructive criticism, but do not bash my story. If you don't like it, don't read it.

Prologue
The Successor

When she was sixteen years old, Hunter had been brought to the Xaiver Mansion under what might have been considered duress. It's not like she had asked to be taken by a mad scientist by the name of Trask and experimented on. It's not like she had desired to be saved, in fact she had sometimes wished those stupid X-Men had left her behind for dead. Not that she was suicidal, but her mind wasn't exactly her own. Trask and his experiments had started before her mutation had manifested. Most of it, that first year and a half, she can't remember.

It took a month for Hunter to gain some semblance of control. In that first month, she met the one person that would help her along her path. Carol Danvers. Not quite a member of the X-Men, but a powerhouse with a background with the military. Carol had seen something in Hunter, something the mutant herself hadn't been able to see. She offered to take Hunter under her wing, teach her how to gain control of herself and not allow her instincts to control her.

Carol had been the first person in her entire life that had looked at her without fear or disgust.

It hadn't been easy. The woman didn't walk on egg shells around Hunter, and didn't make it easy. She helped Hunter come out of her shell, but not enough to bring her out of her half-transitioned state. As a Feral-Shifter, Hunter didn't have it easy. Being a Feral alone wasn't easy; heightened senses made living in a mansion full of teenagers a living hell. Being a Shifter often caused her to shift between different forms; most questioning if the infamous Mystique had been her mother.

She wasn't.

Hunter was only capapble of taking on the forms of different animals, most of them predatorial animals. She usually kept to canine and feline breeds. Being so in-touch with animals made dealing with instincts difficult. Carol helped her indentify what instincts she was being pulled through and label them, help the human side of her deal with them. When it became too difficult, Carol had enlisted the help of her second teacher, another Feral by the name of Logan.

The infamous Wolverine never pulled his punches, physically or verbally. He told her how things were, and it was something she appreciated. He taught her how easy it was to register a person's emotional response; how to smell fear or arousal. He taught her how to listen for lies. He taught her how to channel the animalistic side of her, the extra senses that feel danger. He taught her discipline in a way that Carol couldn't.

During her time as a private student, she rarely met with other teenagers at Xavier's. She had formed an alliance with St. John Allerdyce (Call me Pyro) before he had defected and chose to allign himself with the Brotherhood. She had been the only one to not take it personal. Xavier wasn't helping any of the older teens by treating them with kid gloves. You can't shield teenagers from the horrors of life. She had a mild acquaintanceship with a Southern Belle named Rogue, who never seemed bothered by the animal ears perched on her head, or the occasional tail she sported; always laughing at Hunter's morbid and cynical sense of humor.

Her first honest and true friend had been the one labeled as the most dishonest mutant of all.

Remy LeBeau, otherwise known as Gambit. Hunter had never understood why the two formed such a bond; maybe it was because they both couldn't be bothered to 'fight the good fight' without any other reason by someone's say so. Remy never batted an eye when Hunter displayed more animalistic needs; when she used to sneak into his room late in the evening and curl under his sheets for no other reason by a need for tactile touch. He never hesitated to brush a hand along her shoulder, or ruffle her hair. He never allowed rumors to sway him away from giving her what little comfort she desired.

Remy had become family, in a way that Carol and Logan had.

So it comes to no surprise that the twenty-two-year-old mutant now sits astride a wine-red Ducati just outside the iron gates of the Xavier Mansion. She had left the mansion at the age of eighteen and started a life outside of the mutant safe haven. She didn't feel a need to get pushed or swayed to joining the X-Men. She didn't even like humans.

Not that she would go around murdering them to prove a point (The Brotherhood was a no-go as well).

Sulfur-gold eyes sweep over the distant mansion not-exactly hidden behind the iron bars. Heaving a sigh, a gloved hand presses against the white button of the intercom and a faint chime could be heard across the distance.

"Xavier's. Who may I ask is there?"

Hunter rolls her eyes at the vaguely familiar voice, "Hunter."

There's a pause that sounds just as hesitant as it is, "Oh? Are...you here to see the Professor?"

"No, I'm here t'have a cuppa with the bloody Queen of England," Hunter snarks, wondering if she had been around too many of her patrons for too long, "Just open the damn gate."

"Like...no need to be rude."

Hunter cringes as a familiar long-winded drag of metal-against-metal screeches through the air. Her fingers flex and unflex as she shakes back the shiver, the white-tipped black fox ears perched atop her windswept black hair twitch as the sound pierces her sensitive ears. As the gate parts, Hunter releases a soft sigh before making her way along the driveway. She isn't surprised when the garage door opens for her by the time she makes it to the mansion. Dropping the kickstand, she pockets her keys and barely has a moment to stand when familiar arms embrace her. The faint tension leaks out of her as the familiar aroma of cigarettes, spice and burboun fills her senses.

"S'good t'see ya, Coeur."

She doesn't hesitate to nuzzle her nose along his jawline and the length of his neck, animal instincts taking over as she scent marks her brother-in-all-blood. When she is satisfied and the last of her tension leaves her shoulders, Hunter pulls out of the embrace and offers her friend a small, but genuine smile.

"How's Rogue holdin' up?"

"Mon Cher is nervous, not quite sure how ya react t'what happened. Remy tried t'tell her dat ya don't hold her responsible, but...ya know how Roguey be," Remy LeBeau says, shrugging dismissively as he tosses his arm over her shoulder, "Da Professor thought ya would be more comfortable wit' Remy as ya guide. No one is quite sure how ya handlin' Carol's death."

"Yes, because I make it a habit of curling into a ball of uncontrollable sobs," Hunter snarks, rolling her eyes. "Some of us aren't exactly wired like the rest of ya."

Which was true. One of the reasons Carol had chosen her as a student was because the woman had noticed Hunter's lack or emotional response. Hunter often, if not almost always, reacted out of instinct.

Hunter had lost her ability to react like a human years ago.

Remy leads her through the Mansion, both of them ignoring the sideways looks and faint whispers. Even though it was publically acknowledged that Remy and Rogue were it for each other, the close proximity the two pseudo-siblings shared was often viewed with less platonic ideals. So what if Hunter often slept in Remy's bed barely clothed whenever she was called to Xavier's? Why did kisses on foreheads and cheeks have to be something more than platonic? Is it truly impossible for people of opposite sex to be just friends? While Remy was an attractive man, and she found his red-on-black eyes to be exceptionally beautiful, Hunter never saw him as a possible mate.

Coming to a stop outside of Xavier's office, Remy presses a soft kiss to her temple before leaving her. She knocks on the door, despite the certainty that Xavier already knows of her presence outside the door. Hearing the faint voice call her to enter, she pushes her way into the room and carefully shuts the door.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice, Hunter." Professor Charles Xavier greets.

Yes, please, no need to stand on ceremony, Hunter remarks sarcastically in the safety of her thoughts, "Last I checked, gov," She doesn't bother hiding her sarcasm toward the man, "Carol's funeral was two weeks ago. Don't recall there bein' much need for ya callin' me here."

"As you know, Ms. Danvers selected you to be her primary student," She's pretty sure he gets the wordless 'no shit' from the sardonic quirk of her eyebrow, "Ms. Danvers held the position as a Mutant Liasion and Consultant with an agency known as SHIELD. It seems as though Ms. Danvers had selected you to take her place, should anything happen to keep her from doing so on her own." Xavier motions to a plain folder he slides across his desk, "I know you have no intentions of taking a place on my team," She scoffs mentally, "So, Ms. Danvers chose you as a possible candidate."

She doesn't hesitate to flip open the folder, only to locate a blank, seal envelope lying on top of the papers. Looking it over, she sees there has been no tampering, so she breaks the seal and unfolds the handwritten letter. The slightly blocky handwriting familiar, just as was the faint scent of honey and coconut drifts from the paper.

Hiya Runt!

If you're reading this, I am most likely dead. I know, I know, the world is bound to be a lot less marvelous without me in it, but I will have no problem coming back to beat you into the ground if you're crying over this. Remember, death is the only constant life has to offer anyone.

I chose you to act as my successor. I knew from the moment I saw you that you were different than other mutants. You didn't want to waste your time fighting against mutants and humans alike, trying to get to that distant future where all live harmoniously. No. You'd rather put your life on the line for the survival of all.

Trust me, I get it. It's one of the reasons why I refused to be a part of the X-Men. I may not agree with Magneto's insistances to eradicate humans from existance, but I never planned on fighting other mutants to save the lives of a bunch of bigoted assholes.

I chose you because there was no one else I could see taking my place.

SHIELD is a secret agency that protects the world from 'other-worldly' situations. You won't be fighting humans or mutants. You'll be fighting things that the X-Men will never face. SHIELD knows that I have someone on retainer in the chance of my death, so they will most likely be expecting you. At the end of this letter there is a numer for you to call, ask for Coulson.

Now, for the feelings talk. I want you to know that if I had ever had a child, I would have hoped she had been half of the person you are. You still have a lot to learn, and I'm sure you'll face some of your own demons in the future, but you should always remember that even without the backing of the X-Men, you have made connections of your own. You have people that will help you in your endevours. Don't cut them out.

Also, try not to mention most of them to SHIELD. I weep for the day SHIELD has to deal with someone like that Wilson character you frequently play darts with.

Keep your head on straight and stick to your instincts. They've never steered you wrong yet, and they never will. Don't be afraid to embrace your life, in any aspect you may find. You'd be surprised that there is still much the world can offer you.

Sincerely and Always,

The Marvelous Carol Danvers

Wordlessly, Hunter folds the letter back up and slides it back into the envelope. Taking the file, she meets Xavier's gaze and nods curtly, "I would appreciate it if ya would allow me to check up on Rogue. I know things couldn't have been easy on her lately."

Xavier agrees, and Hunter forgoes his offered handshake in order to give him a jaunty, mocking salute. Slipping out of the office, Hunter leans against the door and feels a faint tremor crawl up her body.

Carol may not have been a frequent face at the Mansion, but she had been the first to ever show her kindness, without gain. Carol had been the first person Hunter genuinely wanted to make proud.

And that sentiment still rang true.