A/N: Hey guys. I'm more pleased with how soon this chapter is posted than I was with the last one, but I guess it's still not ideal. I promise I'm trying to get these done quicker, but sometimes it's just real difficult to get started. I hope you can understand and that the content of the chapters at least partially make up for it.

On another note, I'd like to ask you a favor. I hate to ask, but it would be really super great if you left a review after reading the chapter if you feel comfortable doing so. It's insanely motivating and would really help me get future chapters written faster. Nothing huge, I'd be happy with nearly anything (though I also wouldn't object a long review). Seriously, even if you only have bad things to say, I'd still wanna hear. Thank you in advance if you review, and even if you don't.

Jess found herself unable to keep track of her life.

She was adopted by the Avengers, something she didn't really understand. She knew she would forever remain grateful to them for it, but she wasn't sure why they took her in, just like that. They most definitely didn't have to. They could let SHIELD take care of her, but they didn't. They went and used loopholes and pulled favors and got important people pissed off. The media was only notified two days earlier, and people were already making theories and even accusations. It wasn't a surprise when a rumor claiming Jess was Tony's illegitimate child arose, considering Tony's well-known playboy reputation in the past, but now both Tony and Pepper were almost constantly bothered with questions about it, despite their refusal to confirm the rumor. They both said that it wasn't as bad as it looked and told Jess not to worry about it, but she couldn't help the guilt.

The press ought to have been grateful. The only piece of Jess's story left unknown was her father. It was, admittedly, a crucial piece, since it was the one that explained Jess's connection to the Avengers, but it was one absolutely nobody in the equation felt comfortable sharing.

So now Jess was no longer considered dead. Which was a good thing, definitely; it was just that Jess had no idea how to reclaim her status as 'alive'.

She only knew the first step.

It was Natasha who went with her to the abandoned playground a few blocks away from her old high-school. Natasha turned out to be at least just as motherly as Pepper, even if she showed it differently and more subtly, with little things like insisting on accompanying her, and sometimes putting her hand on her shoulder with that perfect timing of hers.

Her hand was on her shoulder now, so softly Jess barely even felt it but there nonetheless. "You sure you don't want me to stay?" she asked.

Jess nodded, pulling at her hoodie's sleeves so that they covered her palms. Her hair was pulled in a low ponytail and her breath turned to mist in the cold air.

"Okay," said Natasha. "I'll be right there, just give me a sign if you need me."

Jess wondered why Natasha was acting so protective over her. Then she realized it probably had something to do with her being taken captive by her dad for the better part of a year and felt a bit stupid.

Natasha's hand left her shoulder as she went to sit on a bench the other side of the playground, and Jess was left standing alone, waiting. She hugged herself, more out of nervousness than because of the cold.

It was a few minutes before she saw them.

When she did, it was like somebody turned her life around and took her back to before, and for a second she forgot how long it was since she last saw her best friends.

Then she remembered, and her breath caught in her throat at the sight of Amy and Charlie, looking just like they did the last time she saw them, except maybe taller and more mature. But they were okay. They were healthy and alive, which was more than could be said for Jess's mother and brother.

Jess couldn't remember if she ran toward them, but she must have because the distance between them was gone all of a sudden and she was buried in a hug from the last two people she had left in the world. Her family.

And Jess was crying, though she didn't know when she started, and Amy was crying, and Charlie was crying, and they were all hugging and crying together the way fifteen year old kids never should.

"Fuck," Amy was saying. "Fuck, you never do that again. Fuck."

"Is 'fuck' really the first thing you're saying to me after ten months?" Jess asked, joking through the tears.

"Shut up," said Amy forcefully, hugging her tighter than she ever did in all the years they knew each other. "I thought you were dead, I can say whatever I want. Jesus shit, I thought you were dead."

Amy and Charlie let go, and Jess let out a shaky laugh. "God, I've missed you."

"We missed you, too," said Charlie. He wiped his eyes, had his hands in his pockets and looked a bit awkward, like he didn't really know what to do with himself, and Jess felt overwhelmed.

"I love you," said Jess. "I love the both of you, okay? And I'm gonna keep loving you for the rest of my life because you're my family. And god, just…" a sob broke through her and she hugged Amy again, burying her face in her best friend's shoulder.

"Shit, I love you, too," sobbed Amy. "I love you."

This time it was Jess who let go, and she barely had time to wipe one of her cheeks before Charlie got his own solo hug. "I love you," he muttered. "We thought you were dead, what… what the hell happened, Jess? Where were you?"

They broke apart, and Jess knew she had to tell them. She owed them that.

"It was my dad," she whispered. "He killed Mom and he took us and then he killed Emmett, too."

"Oh my god," whispered Amy. "Jesus, Jess…" Charlie didn't say anything, but judging by the look on his face it was because he didn't know what was the right thing to say. Jess didn't care for a second.

"He went insane," Jess summarized sadly. "Just… full-on, murderous crazy. And it's all screwed up right now. I'm all screwed up right now. Guys, I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know what my life looks like."

"They said the Avengers adopted you," said Charlie. "It's not… it's not true, is it? I mean, it's… it's mad."

"I know," said Jess. "But it is. They saved me. They got me out. He had me in this cell and they stopped him and got me out."

"Holy shit," breathed Amy. "But why did they adopt you?"

Jess hesitated. She didn't know if she was ready to tell them about her father's powers yet. She didn't know if she was ready having them worrying about her going purple-eyed all the time. But they thought she was dead. Didn't she owe them the truth, even if it wasn't her fault?

"My dad…" she began, wondering if she was at all sane for telling them. "He had this accident before I was born. And it did something to his genes. Whatever happened to him, it was dormant for a long time, but… it's loose now."

"What's loose?" asked Charlie, frowning with concern.

I sighed. "Look, I can't say I understand it," she admitted. "I don't know anything about it, nobody does. But the world has changed. We've got aliens starting intergalactic wars, people with… abilities. What happened to my dad, it… it gave him abilities. He could make fire with nothing but his hands. Purple fire. And his eyes would glow purple when he did, and it wasn't really just fire, it was some sort of energy thing, I don't know, but…" Jess looked at them desperately. They had to understand that she wasn't her dad. She needed them to understand that she was still just Jess. "It's in his genes," she said helplessly. "They think… they think that I might have it, too." She looked at their faces, searching for fear or doubt, but all she saw was worry. She supposed that was a good sign, so she continued. "And SHIELD… well, they're kind of rough around the edges, I guess. And since I don't have anybody anymore, they could do whatever they wanted with me. They could test me, see if I had it or not. Except they don't know what they're looking for. And they were going to do whatever necessary. The Avengers… I guess they didn't want me to get hurt."

Horror. Disbelief. Anger. One of those had to be on their faces. It only made sense. But she didn't even see pity, not exactly. Just… sympathy.

And Amy hugged her a third time. "You're gonna be fine," she said fiercely. "You're not gonna have it, and even if you do, we'll get through it. We'll all get through it, together. It's what we do."

Jess smiled. "Thank you," she whispered, and looked at Charlie to let him know she meant him as well. He gave her a watery smile in return.

"So," she said, sniffling, pulling away from Amy. "Did they do a memorial thing in school for me?"

"Yeah," said Amy, smiling at the memory. "It was horrible."

"They were so full of crap," agreed Charlie. "The principal talked about a bunch of amazing qualities you literally never had in any point of your life and what a privilege it was to have met you."

"What?" I laughed. "That is such bullshit, she didn't know I existed!"

"They still have a bunch of pictures on one of the walls," said Charlie.

"Nooo," I groaned. "Really?"

"Yeah, it's so ridiculous."

"Ugh, idiots. They're gonna take it down though, right?"

"I think they're gonna keep it up until you see it's there," said Amy. "To let you see they care."

"Of course they care, I've always known they care," Jess said immediately. "All my friends are in that school and the teachers have always been so supporting, they don't need a stupid memorial wall."

"Maybe you should tell them that," Amy pointed out. "I bet they'd all be really flattered, and it'd be really sweet seeing as we all thought you fucking died."

"Don't be ridiculous," Jess told her. "I just came back from the dead, I don't want people thinking I've gone insane with grief. Speaking of going insane, I've missed about a year's worth of gossip, so you two are gonna have to fill the gaps for me."

And the three kids sat down on some swings, like they always used to do when things were fine, and they talked, and they were best friends again.

When people thought of the Avengers, they thought of a group. And when people thought of groups, they tended to forget some things. Like the fact that every group, no matter how close or similar, is made out of whole different people, who each have different characteristics and different lives and different memories. Different everythings.

Jess really wasn't that much different, and though it didn't take her long to realize, understanding how different the Avengers really were from one another was a process. Soon enough, the Avengers weren't just 'the Avengers' anymore. They were more than an idea. They were people. And they had different everythings.

Tony was the most talkative. It took Jess about two days to work out just how much he hated uncomfortable silence. She wasn't sure why yet, but she had a feeling she'd work that out, too. Sometimes he'd retreat to his workshop and be on his own for hours (one time even days), but whenever people were around, the need to speak came. He'd go far to make conversations, using humor and nostalgia and small-talk. It surprised Jess, but she discovered she enjoyed it.

Pepper talked a lot, too. She was probably the most responsible person in the Tower, and worked as much as she breathed, something Jess greatly admired, but she still found the time to chat. She'd ask Jess about school and her friends and about everything altogether. It didn't annoy Jess. It was all so genuine and real and basically human that Jess just felt cared for, and that was a major guilty pleasure right there.

But apart from Tony and Pepper, everyone was about as chatty and talkative as the average person. Well, near everyone.

Bruce Banner confused Jess.

Jess liked to think she was good at understanding people. It allowed her to figure out a lot about the things going on in the heads of the people around her, and even when she got things wrong she almost always had something she could tell.

She didn't have that with Bruce.

Bruce wasn't just quiet. Quiet she knew. Bruce was tense quiet. Jess couldn't tell if he was always like that or if it was only around her, and that took every self-esteem situation she ever had and brought it ringing back. Sometimes, Bruce would get a look on his face, like he had something to say, but he never did, and every time he looked like he regretted it. So Jess couldn't help but wonder.

When the decision to adopt a fully whacked-up teenager is a process that takes less than a day, it really can't be surprising if someone changes their mind, right?

And Jess tried. She tried telling herself that this wasn't the case, that Bruce liked having her around, because he'd give her those awkward smiles of his when they walked by each other.

Of course, he could have been just being polite. After all, he never started conversation with her. He hardly said anything to her, and when he did he seemed sheepish and jittery about it.

Jess enjoyed self-esteem situations as much as any other teenager and all, but it wasn't really just that. She didn't know. She could have been just imagining things. Trust issues were something likely to pop up after what happened to her, she knew, so paranoia would only be a natural reaction. And on the other hand, maybe she wasn't imagining things. Maybe Bruce didn't really like her that much and that was all.

It took her three days of wondering before she asked.

Bruce had just finished a yoga session. He had a thin mattress rolled up and seemed ready to leave the room when Jess stood in its doorway.

He glanced at her, and then looked back down, not really looking her in the eyes. "Hi, Jess," he said, sounding calm enough, but he started picking at the rolled up mattress.

"Hi," Jess said back, hugging herself in her awkwardness.

"What's up?" asked Bruce, and Jess must have looked a bit somber because he straightened up after asking.

Jess hesitated. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," said Bruce with a nod.

Jess contemplated shortly what she was doing. I'm likely just being paranoid, she thought anxiously. I might hurt Bruce's feelings if I'm wrong. And even if I'm not, I better not say anything. I should just pull a random question out of my ass and pretend everything's fine. "Do you regret adopting me?"

Stupid.

Bruce's face crumpled, and Jess felt a nice little spike in her self-hatred levels. "No," he said, confused. "Of course not. Why would you think that?"

"Sorry," said Jess automatically. It seemed she was constantly apologizing nowadays. "I'm sorry, I just… well, you kinda seem to avoid me. You go all quiet and jumpy whenever I'm in the room, and I thought maybe…" She sighed, tripping over her own words. "It's okay if you do, though," she added. "It was a rushed decision, you didn't really have the time to properly consider it, and you've only known me for a few days –"

"Jess," said Bruce firmly. "I don't regret adopting you."

Jess swallowed. "Okay."

"But you're right, I have been avoiding you," he admitted. "And I'm sorry. I was just worried I'd hurt you."

Jess felt a pull inside her chest. "You wouldn't hurt me, Bruce," she said. "I know you wouldn't."

"Not intentionally."

"I'm really not that screwed up," said Jess. "It would actually take a lot to truly hurt me now."

Bruce shook his head. "You don't understand," he said. "I don't mean that I don't want to accidentally say something wrong, although obviously I don't, I mean that I could actually physically hurt you if I'm not careful." He sighed. "It's the beast."

Jess frowned. "But I've seen it," she said. "Well, I heard it, anyway. The day you got me out of that cell, I've heard the Hulk, and it didn't hurt anyone except the person who needed hurting."

"I can't always control it," Bruce explained. "If I change without meaning to, if I get too angry… it's like I'm asleep, and there's something else there instead of me. The first time I changed, I hurt someone I cared about. A lot. And if you get hurt because of me…" he took a deep breath. "I can't risk you like that. I'm a monster, Jess, and there's no changing that."

He seemed so sullen, like he has accepted his fate. Like he gave up.

"You're not a monster, Bruce," said Jess. "I've seen monsters and you're nothing like that."

"You never saw the Hulk when it's loose," Bruce said. "You don't know what it's like."

Jess shrugged. "Then if I ever do, I'll make sure to run for cover. But right now you're not the Hulk, you're you. Honestly, you're probably less a monster than anyone I know. For god's sake, Bruce, you like yoga. And I know you do it to stop yourself from hulking out, but come on. You put nutella on everything. You live off herbal teas. You're Zen. I can barely take you seriously most of the time, how the hell am I supposed to be afraid of you turning into a big green thing?"

Bruce smiled (finally), revealing his white teeth. "At least you're honest," he quipped.

"It's a gift and a curse," she replied, smiling back. "Seriously, though. I'm not afraid, and I'm the supposed victim in this whole scenario. So I think you shouldn't be afraid, either. You know. Being a superhero and all."

Jess could swear that Bruce blushed a little.

There was no immediate change. That talk, with Bruce sweaty from the yoga with a mattress under his arm and Jess overthinking most details, wasn't the start of a beautiful friendship. But it was a start. It took some getting used to, but eventually Bruce stopped being quiet in group conversations. Jess started asking him for occasional assistance with her homework. They started talking about books, making recommendations and discussing character developments. Bruce would patiently sit across from Jess with amused interest as she ranted about the way this and that ended. Bruce would innocently suggest that maybe she was getting too involved in the stories and remind her that they were just fiction. Jess would hit him with a pillow and tell him that her feelings weren't fictional and that bad endings were a serious problem that needed solving, but they'd both be laughing.

Bruce and Jess were both damaged and screwed up and generally messes. Neither one was coping very well. But they were being damaged and screwed up together, and that was better. So when Bruce got an overly serious look on his face, Jess would crack a joke. And when Jess was caught staring off into space for too long, Bruce would casually mention a part in a book he knew Jess was reluctant to let go, and she'd rant.

So what if Jess still had dark circles beneath her eyes?

So everything.

It's been a month. A month since the adoption papers, and more than a month since the last time any of them saw Lawrence Cory. Catching up with everything she missed in school was a challenge, but Jess managed with some occasional help. It was funny. Jess was certain she would never have put such efforts into school before her mother's death. She wondered what changed. Maybe she liked that it kept her mind off things. Or maybe she was trying to make a point.

Things were going more or less fine so far. Or at least, so it seemed. Jess was putting on some of old weight back, and despite the fact she was still not really healthy looking yet, she stopped looking like she just crawled out of a desert. Some burn scars remained on her arms and shoulders, but Jess didn't seem to mind. She didn't even try covering it up. She could be seen in the Tower wearing tank tops or T-shirts when it wasn't too cold and didn't think twice about it. After a while, the Avengers stopped seeing them. It became normal.

Jess smiled more often, and was once again quick to laugh as she was before. She joked about the cell sometimes, when Pepper, Steve, Bruce and Thor were out of earshot. Tony, Clint and Natasha were great with dark humor. The others cringed when she made jokes about it, and she learned not to. She didn't mind.

Though really, they should have known better than to think things were good this soon.

The scream penetrated the silent, cool night. Steve Rogers was awake in a heartbeat, running before he could even consciously determine whose scream it was that woke him. It took him just over a second to remember that the rest of the Avengers were on a three-day long mission and that Pepper was staying the night in DC, leaving only one other person in the Tower, unless you counted JARVIS, who wasn't all that likely to scream like a girl at three in the morning.

He threw a door open only to hear a second scream, this time much closer to him. Jess was sitting up in her bed, her eyes wide and her face tear stained, and she was cowering away from him instinctively, just for a moment, before fully processing it was him and relaxing. He had startled her, he realized.

"I'm sorry," she blurted in a panicky voice, thick with tears, that was nothing like the voice of the laughing girl she was just a few hours earlier. "I'm okay, it was just a dream, I'm sorry I woke you, I didn't… I'm sorry."

For several moments Steve found that he couldn't do anything but stare. Whatever it was she dreamed of, it had her terrified. He hated the fact that whatever they did to try and help her, she was still so broken sometimes, and he hated how she always felt the need to apologize for it. More than anything, he hated the girl's father for causing so much harm to his own child, too caught up in his own power and madness to truly see her. Then he noticed that Jess was shaking and suddenly he was sitting on her bed next to her and holding her as she broke down. She sobbed helplessly and uncontrollably in his arms, letting pure stress leave her body and mind.

It took her a few minutes to calm down, and Steve didn't try rushing her, but eventually she pulled away, taking deep breathes and running a hand through her hair, which has gone messy when she thrashed around in her sleep. Her hand trembled slightly as she did.

"So," Steve said softly. "What was it?"

Jess knew what he meant. She shrugged. "I don't know," she mumbled. "Memories, mostly, all pressed together in the wrong order. Didn't make it any better, though." She took another shaky breath, and Steve didn't even have to think as he pulled her closer so that she leaned on his shoulder, putting his hand on her hair, stroking it ever so lightly. She didn't try to resist, shutting her eyes and letting Steve's even breathing sooth her. "How the hell did this happen?" she whispered. "Life used to be normal, or as close to it as I could manage. Things were good, and they were supposed to get better, not fall into a pit of crap. I used to be mostly okay. It wasn't perfect but I could live with it. And now I'm not even that." She sighed. "How does this happen?" she muttered again. "How does a life become something else entirely?"

"Sometimes the world is hard," Steve answered, just as quietly. "Sometimes it's cruel and cold and tries to weigh you down. But that's not all there is. Sometimes the world's a good place to live in."

"Yeah," murmured Jess. "I know. It just gets hard to remember sometimes. And I don't know if I'm going to be okay. I say I am, and most of the time I believe it, but… I'm fifteen years old. I should be stressed about school and parties and boys. This is not what my life was supposed to look like. I just want to be okay already."

"You'll be okay," Steve said. "We'll help make you okay, I promise. We will always be here for you. We won't give up on you. Ever."

The ends of Jess's lips twitched into a small smile. "Thank you," she whispered, sounding as small as she did in the cell, but there was a touch of light in her words. Steve felt that light, deep in his chest. "I don't know where I'd be if it wasn't for you." Jess's weight on his shoulder was suddenly gone when she got up from the bed and straightened up, rubbing the last of tears and sleep from her eyes. "I'm gonna make some coffee," she said. "No sleep for me tonight. You should go back to bed, though." And she walked out of the room without another word, eyes cast to the floor, her bare feet padding at the floor lightly.

Sometimes saving people was more than just pulling them out of the danger. Sometimes saving people was a process, long and hard and exhausting. And as SHIELD always had to remind them, it was impossible to save everyone.

And in that moment, sitting alone on Jess's bed at three a.m., Steve knew he was ready to give his life in order to save that girl. For the first time, it hit him just how hard he was willing to fight for her.

He wasn't going back to bed.

He found Jess in the kitchen, her back turned to him. She was fumbling with the coffee machine. If she heard him come in, she showed no sign of it. She must have, though, because she didn't act surprised when he spoke.

"You know, we used to make amazing hot chocolate back when I was about your age," he reminisced. "My mother, she had a whole method. When she could, she'd have me get my best friend over – we were practically brothers – and she'd make us some. It was divine. She taught me, and after she passed away I started making it sometimes too. It was the best thing when one of us was feeling down."

Jess didn't look at him, but she didn't put the capsule into the machine. Instead she stopped, her hands on the counter, listening.

"It's all different now, of course," said Steve. "I can afford hot chocolate whenever I want it, but it took me a while to figure out how to get it right. I had to change my mom's old ritual a bit, but eventually I learned how to make it so that it tastes the same. Nat made me try out about everything they have in Starbucks and none of that tasted as good as my mother's hot chocolate." He took a few steps closer to Jess until he was next to her, the counter cold against his hips. She looked up. He was over a head taller than her and she almost had to strain her neck to meet his eyes. "I can make my mother's hot chocolate if you want."

Jess just nodded. She didn't say anything as he made it, but mumbled a thank you as he handed her the mug of steaming brown thick liquid. She said nothing as she took her mug to the lounge and nothing as he followed her with his own mug. She curled up on the end of the sofa, pulling her legs to her chest with the cup held gingerly in her hands, before she started talking again.

"What was his name?" she asked. "Your friend's?"

Steve smiled. "His name was Bucky," he said. "We've been best friends since we were kids. He used to pull me out of fights with guys twice as big as me before the serum."

Jess smiled. "He sounds like a great guy."

"Yeah." Steve's smile turned a bit sad. "He was."

"Did he pass away while you were in the ice?" she asked. Steve got the impression she didn't ask just out of curiosity. He had a feeling she was paying him back for comforting her just a few minutes past.

One day, he thought to himself, he was going to find out how she understood so much so easily. How she knew Bucky didn't die old, because she definitely figured that out. How she knew Steve didn't talk about Bucky since he was defrosted, and how she knew he wanted to.

"No," said Steve. "He didn't. We, uh…" he cleared his throat as his eyes became glazed over. He was somewhere else now. He was back in that train, watching as the puzzle pieces that led to Bucky's death fell into place. "We were on one of Hydra's trains, and it was going on the edge of a mountain when we were found. The wall got blasted, and Bucky fell. There was nothing I could do." He forced a smile. "I guess we're both a bit messed up."

Jess smiled at that. "I think everybody's messed up," she said. "There isn't a person in the world who's never been hurt. The world's not divided into people who are happy and people who got hurt. You get different levels of pain, different depths of the scars, and then you choose how you handle your pain."

Steve shook his head. "You're fifteen," he said. "How do you even know that stuff?"

Jess shrugged. "I do a lot of reading. Plus I'm pretty smart."

"You're not bad," agreed Steve.

"It doesn't always do much good, though," Jess pointed out. "I read a lot and I'm smart, so I know it can take a really long time to recover from something like what happened to me. And since I know that I should accept it. But I guess some things are easier said than done, and I've always had an impatient side. It's only been a month, and in terms of mental recovery it's nothing, but I'd just like to have it behind me, you know? I'm sick of being scared of my dreams. I just want it to be a memory. Then I'd be able to move on. But I'm not even sure it's possible to move on."

"It's always possible," said Steve, and for a moment actually believed himself.

"Not always," said Jess. "Most parents never move on from the death of their child. I didn't lose my child, but…" She bit her lip. "I miss Emmett. I miss him so much it's like there's this thing in my chest, pulling and squeezing all the damn time. He wasn't my kid, but… he was mine. And after Mom, protecting him was my job. It was the only thing I lived for. He was my purpose. And he died. So for a while I didn't have anything to live for. I thought Lawrence would kill me too eventually, or keep me in the cell so long I'd go crazy like him. But I didn't die, I got out, and I have a life again. But I don't have Emmett or my mom, and that's fucking bullshit."

Steve didn't know what to say to that. He didn't know what losing a younger brother was like. But he knew what it was like to lose a mother. "You never talk about her, you know," he noted. "Your mom, I mean."

"I know," said Jess. "And I'll never stop feeling guilty for missing her less, because she deserves more. She was an amazing person and a strong woman. She kicked her husband out the moment she saw him as a threat to her kids, and raised us on her own. She was kickass at her job and was socially active. She pushed me to do better and was supportive at the same time. She believed in me. She was astounding, and she stopped existing in a blink of an eye and it was cruel and unfair. I do miss her. I don't know why I don't talk about her. I don't talk about my family in general, except for my dad, who wasn't really my family at all. I suppose it's just another part of me being really screwed up and emotionally scarred."

They kept talking about painful subjects for about an hour longer. Painful subjects had a tendency to become less painful with amazing hot chocolate made how somebody's mother used to make it, which ultimately made them much easier to discuss. And when Pepper came back the next morning and saw a damaged girl snuggled up against a damaged super-soldier, both of them sound asleep, empty mugs on the coffee table in front of them, she just smiled to herself, and felt hopeful.

It's odd how the most dramatic things happen on normal days.

You never see the storm about to hit. You never see the meteor dropping out of the sky. You never see the oncoming avalanche. You only realize it's there when you're hit, and then it's too late to stop it. Not that you could ever stop it, even if you knew it was coming. Some people call it destiny, some call it coincidence, and some say it's divine intervention. However you chose to explain it, there was no denying that sometimes bad things happened, and certain bad things were bound to happen and were even necessary.

So it was a normal day when the world was turned upside down all over again.

"So," said Jess. "I think there's still an obvious question standing."

Amy and Charlie looked at her with amused expressions from the other side of the table. Since Jess got back the three picked back up the old habit of going out for cheap food every once in a while, and with all the excitement about Jess being alive it happened often enough.

"Why are you both still single?"

They laughed. "Because we're unattractive as hell," said Amy. "What's your excuse?"

"Erm," said Jess. "Locked up. Ten months. Presumed dead."

"Hmm," said Amy with an unimpressed expression. "Whatever."

Jess grinned, wondering what she did to deserve Amy and Charlie. "Seriously, though. I know we're just fifteen, but not even one date? In all that time? Neither of you?"

"Nope," said Charlie.

"And you didn't even have any crushes?"

"Not on anyone real or who's aware of my existence," said Amy.

"Unaware of your existence meaning what, random cute guy at school?" asked Jess hopefully.

"More like Luke Evans and Dean O'Gorman. And their characters in The Hobbit, naturally."

Jess sighed along with Amy and Charlie chuckled. "You're right," Jess admitted. "I don't know what I'm doing talking about actual dating while they're out there in the world."

"Exactly," said Amy, taking a bite out of one of her French fries.

"And on top of that is the fact that we're the only people who can stand each other, so…" Charlie reminded her.

Jess grinned. "You're not, though," she said with sudden sincerity. "Unattractive, I mean. You're both the most beautiful people I know."

"I love you," said Amy seriously. Charlie simply grinned. "You're beautiful too, you know."

"Thanks," Jess replied politely, not bothering to wonder whether or not it was true. Amy said it and meant it, so it didn't matter.

"Oh!" Charlie blurted, sitting up suddenly, making Jess raise an amused eyebrow at him. "I met a new cat in my street yesterday."

Jess kept her grin as Charlie talked about the cat. He liked the cats in his street, and Jess loved the way he'd go excited when talking about them. She often called him a crazy cat lady, but really she enjoyed seeing him this happy.

However, she stopped listening very quickly. There was a strange sensation in his fingertips. Like a tingling, but strange. Nothing Jess has ever felt before. It didn't feel numb, it felt… vibrant. Normally she would've shrugged it off, but she found she couldn't. It was like she started to daydream and couldn't stop. The outside world, though still very much there, became invisible to her. There was only the unfamiliar tingling, and at the edge of her mind, a sound. Like something trying to break through.

"Jess," said Amy, bringing her back to reality. "You with us?"

"Oh, yeah," said Jess with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I spaced out for a moment there. That Luke Evans comment really caught me off-guard."

Liar.

Shut up.

The quick inner dialogue in Jess's head was short-lived as the conversation went elsewhere, and Jess forgot all about the tingling in her fingertips, which disappeared the way it came.

She felt the tingling again hours later, alone in her bedroom in the Avengers Tower. Alone, and with no distractions.

She stared at her fingertips as they tingled, vaguely wondering why they were tingling. It was hard to wonder at anything with the sound in her head. She couldn't define it if she tried. But it kept getting stronger and stronger, along with the tingling. Her hands began to shake, and the sound just grew more powerful. She felt like it was going to crack open her skull. It built up, the way pressure does in a pressure pot. The tingling wasn't tingling anymore. It was heat. And her fingers kept getting warmer and it wasn't just her fingers anymore as much as her whole hands and the sound kept getting louder and louder and louder until-

SNAP.

The sound stopped. The pressure was gone. And the feeling in Jess's hands was one of sheer power.

Jess held purple fire in her trembling hands, and her tear-filled eyes were glowing purple.