A/N: Yeah, I know, I'm starting yet another story without finishing the others first. Shame on me. But my muse took hold of me and wouldn't let me go until I started on this!

See, here's the thing. I've read so many original character/self-insert stories for this particular genre, and I've even liked quite a few of them. However, I really want to do one right. One with a plot that makes sense and a realistic look at personality, while being entertaining at the same time. So, this is my attempt for this personal challenge. Lucy is more of an OC than a SI, but I made a point of writing her in the SI style. This story starts just before Thor/Hulk/Iron Man 2, and will continue on for as long as I feel like it. The action doesn't really start until the Avengers though, and should remain fairly true to the storyline. Pairings are as of yet undecided, and I'm more than willing to take any requests into account on the final decision.

The Blink Effect: Chapter One
The Girl Who Fell from the Mountain

I felt nervous as I politely rapped at the trailer's door. Well, nervous might be a bit of an understatement. Frankly, I was terrified out of my mind, halfway praying that I was insane and halfway praying for the exact opposite. Either way, answers were to be had behind this door- ones I'd wanted for so very long now.

Have you ever been Unmade? It's not the same as dying, though I imagine it's what dying feels like. Humans exist in a state of matter, and when that's gone… well, there's not much of us left, is there? When I was a teenager, I used to have these dreams where I'd be minding my own damn business in a public place, and all of a sudden, I'd look down and realize that I was actually completely naked the whole time. Being Unmade feels like that, because everything that you are is just stripped away to nothing until you are nothing. At least, until you are Remade again.

And just so we're clear: all of this? It fucking hurts. More than breaking an ankle. Or stepping on a lego. My first experience with a wormhole was by no means a pleasant one, even if it did save my life.

Wormhole. Also known as an Einstein-Rosen Bridge. A hypothetical topological feature that would fundamentally be a shortcut connecting two separate points in spacetime that could connect extremely far distances such as a billion light years or more; short distances, such as a few feet; different universes; and in theory, different points in time. Essentially a tunnel with two ends, each at a different point in spacetime.

The key word in this definition being 'hypothetical'. Wormholes are pure mathematical theory, and haven't been proven to exist.

I didn't used to know anything about wormholes. All I had was a vague impression from a late-night Star Trek episode. After all, how useful could information on something I'd never witness possibly be? I was just a cook, then. Wormholes had nothing to do with catering. But then… things changed, and… well, here I am. Qualitative observations?

For one, wormholes are blue. A bright, shimmery, sky blue. They shine brightly along the outside edges in a sort of odd corona that separates real space and the hole in that space, and go transparent in the middle, where you can see out the other side. (That's because wormholes fold space over on itself like a piece of notebook paper and then punch a hole through the bits that are touching. And it's weird. Like… really weird. Because wormholes really shouldn't be, and it's mildly distressing to the senses when they decide to disregard that opinion.) For another, stepping through a wormhole that begins in one dimension and ends in another is completely and utterly agonizing.

This was, of course, my first wormhole.

My personal theory on the difference between the experience of my first wormhole and that of the infinitely many (and significantly less painful) ones to follow -the difference in sensation between a wormhole between two dimensions and a wormhole within a single dimension- is that it is due not to a greater distance being traveled (and distance is defined as the amount of space between two points, and wormholes just fold the space away so there's no distance between the start and end at all) but instead to simple incompatibility. People are made of matter. A physical, measurable, tangible substance that occupies space. It cannot, however, occupy the non-native space of another dimension. Hence, when traveling between dimensions, the traveler is Unmade of their native dimension's matter and Remade of their destination's.

Or something like that, at least. It's not like have any sort of evidence supporting this. Don't ask me how such a process is survivable. It probably wouldn't be, to anyone else. I'm just special that way.

But that was why I was here, three months after my arrival in this world, knocking on this particular door and feeling for all the world like a lost child running to anyone that even remotely resembled her mother. I was lost: an entire dimension removed from my home. And besides myself, there's no one alive on this particular version of Earth that knew wormholes better than Dr. Jane Foster. I needed her. What exactly for, I couldn't really say, but if anyone could make sense of my life right now, it would be Foster.

Quite suddenly, the door was thrown open, narrowly missing hitting my in the face. (I swear the edge passed within an inch of my nose.) Startled, I blinked up at the young brunette standing in the doorway, openly appraising me. I shifted uncomfortably, suddenly quite conscious of the fact that I was dressed only casually in jeans and a red cotton blouse with a pair of ratty converse. A small duffle bag containing all of my worldly possessions was slung over one shoulder. Doubtlessly, I looked like some sort of bum; especially considering that no car was in sight. I hadn't taken one to get here.

"Can I help you?" the brunette girl asked, popping her gum.

Smiling tremulously, I reflexively tightened my grip on my bag before forcing myself to relax. "Hello," I greeted her. "I'm looking for Dr. Foster."

There was a shuffling from within the trailer, and soon yet another woman moved into my line of sight, the newcomer shooing the younger one off to one side. "I'm Dr. Foster," she informed me. "Who are you?"

Nervously, I tugged at a stray lock of my own dark hair. "My name is Luciana Schafer, Dr. Foster. I was told that you're the person I've got to speak to about Einstein-Rosen Bridges?" The end of my statement sort of sounded like a question. It wasn't, really. I was well aware that Foster was the best. But for the first time since arriving here, I was facing an actual fictional character that wasn't actually fictional, and I was a little overwhelmed. I mean, seeing the news articles on Tony Stark being Iron Man was one thing, but Jane was real. Undeniably so. It was just my luck to travel to a different dimension and hit the cinematic universe instead of the X-Men comics, my childhood favorites.

But beggars can't be choosers, I guess.

"I am one of the foremost experts in that field, yes Miss Schafer," the little brunette confirmed modestly with a little dip of her head in acknowledgement. God, she looked exactly like Natalie Portman. It was actually a little freaky.

"Right," I muttered. "So, I have a few questions, and I was hoping I could show you what I mean if I could have a few moments of your time." I finished with my best hopeful expression. "It won't take long, honest. It's pretty cool to see, actually." (Yeah. When it wasn't terrifying and/or painful.)

Dr. Foster appeared a bit skeptical, but nodded her agreement, stepping aside for me to come inside.

I winced a little as I thought about the damage my demonstration could do to the inside of her tiny trailer. "Uh, it might be better if you all came outside, actually," I admitted. "More room."

Definitely appearing more curious now, Dr. Foster obeyed and stepped outside, closely followed by the younger brunette and an older man, who shut the trailer door behind him. Darcy Lewis and Dr. Erik Selvig, if I wasn't mistaken. Darcy was bouncing on her toes in excitement, while Dr. Selvig just glowered at me. I was half-expecting him to yell at me to get off his damn lawn. Dr. Foster was the calmest of the three, regarding me measuredly.

I'd better not disappoint then.

I'd been practicing this maneuver for close to three months -ever since I made my second ever wormhole on complete accident, terrified and in pain to a degree I'd only ever experienced once before as a man attacked me in an alley near the shithole motel I'd been staying at for lack of funds. The sudden flash of blue -a wormhole no bigger than the palm of my hand- directly in his face had startled him so badly that I'd been able to land a solid knee to his crotch and get the Hell out of Dodge. From that day forward, I'd spent every waking moment away from my shitty job (It's annoyingly difficult to get a job when you don't legally exist.) working to hone my control of my powers and even taking a few self-defence classes. (Never again would I be helpless.) When I was a kid, the other children and I would play superhero at recess. Everyone got to pick their own name and a power. I named myself Paint, and played as a shapeshifter. Never had I imagined that I'd acquire actual superpowers, much less Blink powers.

It was ironic, in a bitter sort of way. I'd never read much of Blink's story, despite my love for the X-Men. I was much more an X-23 or Emma Frost kind of girl.

Not willing to waste any time, I immediately centered myself with a short inhalation of air and gusted it out of my nose before mentally reaching to the cold-warmth nestled inside of me that I'd been living with ever since the crash, allowing it to flood my body with tingles. I always felt like a live wire when I did this. Neither comfortable nor uncomfortable at the same time. I just… was.

A flick of my wrist tore a hole in spacetime, shimmering a pale neon blue in the fading sunlight like a bad Stargate parody. Before me, all three members of my audience gasped. I ignored them. Instead, I turned to where the me-sized oval was hovering just to my left and stepped through, only to emerge through an identical doorway that lit up just behind Darcy. I let the portals close then, and upon hearing the sound (a sort of hissing-zipping noise) the trio spun around and simply gaped at me.

I certainly couldn't blame them. They looked exactly how I've felt for quite some time now.

"Look, I know it's weird," I said, tugging at my hair again and twisting it in my fingers. I had a bad habit of rambling when I felt uncomfortable. "But this just… happened and I don't know what to do or what it means. You're the only one I could think of with any chance of figuring this out. I'm not a scientist!" A note of pleading entered my voice as I directed my gaze towards a floored Natalie Po- I mean, Dr. Foster. "I'm in so over my head it's not even funny. I'm just a cook!"

"Who can teleport!" Darcy deadpanned.

I shrugged. "I make a mean mushroom risotto too."

This comment, at least, appeared to break through Dr. Selvig's shock. "You… you just created a wormhole," he sputtered.

Well… maybe the shock was less broken than I'd originally thought.

"I did," I confirmed.

"Oh my God," came Dr. Foster's contribution. (Ditto, lady. Ditto.) She blinked furiously for a moment, as if trying to wake herself up. When she was unsuccessful, the brunette seemed to accept that this was actually happening and peered at me more closely. "How did this happen?" she breathed.

I shifted on my feet, slightly uncomfortable with the subject. "It's… a long story."

Apparently, 'It's a long story,' directly translated to 'Please take me inside and ply me with juice pouches and oreos while I spill my life's story,' in this universe. Who knew?

And more importantly, who the hell drank Capri Sun with oreos? It was cringeworthy.

"Well, I guess this all started when my Dad and I decided to take a road trip," I began, once all four of us were crammed around Foster's cluttered table inside her trailer, snacks and beverages doled out accordingly. I fidgeted with my cookie, not quite wanting to eat it. "We were driving through the mountains at night. It was stupid. We hit black ice and spun out. We went right through the guardrail and down the side of the mountain." My hands clenched at the memory, and Darcy let out a distressed sort of noise. I wasn't interrupted, however. "I think I blacked out halfway down. I don't really… remember that part well," I admitted.

Metal screeching and glass shattering; rocks pounding against plastic and my mouth tastes like blood as the world spins over and over and over and over… can't breathe I can't breathe just breathe and make it stop just stop...

Part of me was well aware that I didn't want to remember more than my memory was faulty. My voice wavered as I continued, my eyes clamped shut so I wouldn't have to look at the others' faces while I told this story. "When I woke up, the car was crushed up against a rock formation and Dad was… Dad was gone. I wasn't thinking clearly. I was concussed, had broken a couple of bones, and was bleeding pretty heavily…" My throat convulsed as I swallowed thickly.

Don't think Lucy don't think Lucy don't think- he's only sleeping just sleeping he'll be fine just fine wake up Daddy please wake up you can't sleep now Daddy I need you to stop sleeping... just get out get out get out find somewhere safe get out to be safe Lucy be safe there's so much blood...

"I crawled out of the wreck and managed about two steps before I fell right down into a crack between the rocks. I wasn't in any shape to climb out. I couldn't really even move," I narrated, forcing myself into a more clinical mood and finally opening my eyes. Darcy and Dr. Foster's eyes were swimming, and Dr. Selvig appeared quite grim. "But… then I found a little safe, half-buried in the mud, right next to where I'd fallen. Like the rain had washed it up from being buried. It was rusted almost all the way through it was so old, and it was no trouble to bust open. All that was inside was this…" Pausing as I struggled for the terms to describe my find, I frowned heavily and gestured somewhat uselessly with my hands. "Diamond chip, I guess? About as big as a nickel, maybe. Broken off like a shard. It was… weird though. It glowed blue, like my portals," I explained. It had been so beautiful. Enchanting. I felt wistful thinking about it even now. "It was… it defies description. I picked it up, and it felt so strange. Hot and cold all at once. Well, until I bled all over it that is," I said wryly.

It burns it burns it burns get rid of it Lucy it's eating me alive and burning why is it burning into me like a tattoo blue fire it burns… get out Lucy get out get out get out leave get away run it hurts please Lucy go…

Placing my cookie down on the table, I used my right hand to trace a path up from the palm of my left hand up my arm and straight over my heart with my fingertips, where I allowed them to linger and apply light pressure for a moment before dropping again. "Once my blood touched it, it sort of… sank into me. Right here." I tapped my sternum. "Then a portal opened up right underneath me and I fell through, right into the middle of Oregon of all places." I shuddered. "It hurt more than anything I've ever felt, doing that," I admitted. "When I came out the other side, my body was whole again. Yet… here isn't the same as my here. Where I came from wasn't here. Things are different. It's almost five years back in time, to me. I don't legally exist at all. I found out I could make my own portals a week or so after I got here, but they aren't the same as that first one. They just take me from place to place. I think I accidentally travelled dimensions," I confessed.

My story was met with silence and some truly impressed deer-in-headlights expressions. I think I broke them.

"You… accidentally traveled dimensions," Dr. Selvig repeated back to me incredulously.

I smirked. "Sounds about right."

"I don't know how much I can help you," Dr. Foster sighed, eyeing me somewhat hungrily. And not even in the fun way. More in the 'I-want-to-dissect-you-and-catalogue-your-organs' kind of way.

I frowned, but I wasn't surprised. After all, I was rather… unusual. "Anything helps," I offered magnanimously.

"Then do the portal thingie again!" Darcy demanded, clearly excited.

Well, far be it from me to deny the desires of a pretty lady. Though I had a feeling I'd be performing my personal party trick for them for a very long time.

A/N: Yes, I know that's not real science. But it's comic science, so it's totally fine! Reviews are very welcome. This project is literally just a personal challenge to try and heal my soul of doing math after classes, so all feedback -good and bad- and requests are appreciated. Next chapter up soon!