Guys. I'm so sorry I suck. I'm a freshman in college and I'm a mechanical engineering major, so that basically means you get no free time. Ever. So here is the chapter that has taken me way too long to write, but its sorta a transition between AoU and Civil War. I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Much love,

freedomintensifies

There was a girl that would walk into a local pub on Tuesday nights. It was a little after five, so the sun had just begun to dip below the skylines, but the air in the joint was still warm and wonderous with the wisps of sunshine that had yet to fade away. The girl would go sit at the end of the bar, two seats from the left to be exact, and order only one thing on the menu. She wasn't unwealthy, but that was not the reason she kept her drinks so minimal. To be honest, she didn't drink because there was no purpose. No matter how many drinks she had, she could not get drunk, but boy, did she try. No, instead, she would sit at the grimy old bar with peanut shells crunching under her boots and her hands sticking to the wooden ledge from a spilt beer and order that one thing.

Whiskey. Neat.

She would then sit there, undisturbed, until the sun would set with her slightly chipped glass within arms reach, and as soon as the last rays of the fiery globe dissipated, she would pay the tab, stand up, and walk out. Drink untouched.

She did this every Tuesday for the past three months, except this one was different. The autumn air had just started to ripen as the girl pulled her worn denim jacket closer to her body. The teenager was not the best at choosing weather appropriate clothing beings she didn't really have to, but with only wearing some skimpy band t-shirt that had too many holes to count and a pair of thin, black skinny jeans, she decided it was best to look the part. College dropout with daddy issues was a lot easier to explain than a semi-employed teenager who gets kudos for deep frying bad guys, although she hadn't really been doing much of that anymore.

Lucy tilted the glass to watch the caramel liquid twinkle in the daylight. Dad always said her eyes looked like sunshine through a glass of whiskey. The sentiment was almost sobering in the sense that no matter how much of her life went off the rails, she still had the little things.

"Baby, don't be sad."

The small child had woken up from her nightmare hysterically from the fact that the one to help her fight the terrors away was not in fact her father, but her mother. She finally looked up into the woman's warm, kind eyes and melted a bit. All her previous concerns seemed to dissipate as she stared at her; she was all that mattered at that moment. The contessa with golden hair and whiskey eyes. "Don't be sad, Lou. Daddy is gonna come home soon. You'll see, he's gonna come home and sweep your little self into his big arms and give you a bear hug until you can't remember that he ever left." She continued to look at her mother in hopes that she would give her more concrete information than just the fact that one day he would return. When was that going to be? When was 'one day'? He'd been gone for months now, and they didn't get as much as a phone call or even a letter.

"Your daddy is a brave man. He's off protecting our country. He's protecting you," she whispered, gently poking the five-year-old's belly. The little girl didn't seem to care what he was doing, all she cared about was if he would come home. Safe. Soon. To be with her. Her mother sighed and gently cradled her cheek wiping away her stray tears, "Here," she said. She removed her hand to reach for the clasp at the back of her neck to remove a small locket. "I want you to hold onto this for me." The girl stared as her mother gently dropped the dainty necklace into her chubby hands. The silver pool of chains glittered in the moonlight like an undisturbed lake. "Your daddy gave this to me when we got married. There's a picture of me and daddy and even a little you." She smiled and took the locket from her hands and clasped it around her neck. "Keep this until Daddy gets back, that way, while he's gone he'll always be close to your heart." She nudged her daughter's shoulder to get her attention as she seemed to be hypnotized by the sterling circle resting on her chest, "Do you hear me?"

"Do you hear me?"

Lucy slowly glanced up at the man towering over her. To be honest, she hadn't heard him. She was too fixated on memories to acknowledge the present. That's how she went about most of her days now; mourning her parents. Mourning the fact that she knew for now she couldn't see her sister because like she always had, she has to protect her, even if that meant protecting her from herself. And even mourning Lucy Cooper. The fact that she had been thrown into the Avengers so quickly didn't give her the chance before, but she was gonna take as much damn time as she needed now. Lucy scrunched her nose as she got a whiff of the guys breath, it was foul from the amount of liquor that had passed through his lips. "I said, do you hear me?" The man repeated, this time with a little more annoyance in his voice and his beer gut and unshaven face moving closer to her.

He slowly lifted a strand of silver hair and grimaced when he analyzed it, "What is this shit? You dump a tub of bleach on yourself or somethin'?" In response, she simply grit her teeth and faced forward. Ignoring him. Just another drunk. He'll move on eventually, she reminded herself. She wasn't planning on getting into a fight because she knew it would be pathetic, and she didn't feel like drawing a crowd. "Hey, bitch," he growled. "Are you deaf?" Lucy kept facing forward with her hand gingerly on her drink until he grabbed her arm and forced her to face him. "Look at me while I'm talking to you," he spat.

She raised an eyebrow at the man, "Yep, I'm deaf, that's the only possible explanation as to why I am ignoring you right now." She saw the bartender from across the counter smirk, but he continued to mind his own business as if the young girl wasn't being threatened in his bar.

"Look, if you wanna be a smart ass that's fine, but remember your place in this world." With that, he stood, and in default so did she.

"My place?" she almost growled. "That's real rich coming from a guy hitting on a girl half his age. I was minding my own goddamn business when you come over and start making crude comments at me. Sorry if I finally responded to defend myself, I should know better and stay in line. Women should never put down or ignore unwanted comments, how ever can I live with myself?" Way to keep a low profile.

She crossed her arms, waiting for his dispute, but the man seemed stunned for a couple of seconds. Cold, hard facts can do that to someone. Then with the grit of his teeth, he raised his hand to slap her clean across the face, but she caught it before he could do any damage. "Violence?" she scoffed. "That's it, solve your case with abuse. How could you possibly be sitting here in a bar late afternoon on a Tuesday getting drunk off your ass when you have so many wonderful things to contribute to society?" He tried to pull his hand away with fear, but she tightened her grip. Tighter and tighter and tighter until she heard the first bone pop. He screeched and wretched his hand back, but she kept hold, squeezing tighter and tighter. Pop, pop, pop. "I want you to remember this the next time you try to harass an innocent girl," she hissed with a locked jaw and a deadly glare. He screamed at the top of his lungs for mercy and as his hand went limp, she dropped it and went to sat back down on the bar stool, and the man stood silent for a while, silent tears streaming down his face. The bar had become so quiet that you could hear a pin drop from across the room, all of them trying to comprehend how such a young woman could contain so much anger and hate.

She ignored the audience and reached for her glass and looked at the amber liquid one last time, "Unfortunately for you, I am not so innocent." With that she downed her drink in one gulp, stood up, slammed her fist into the guy's nose causing him to collapse to the tacky floor, and left. All eyes still pinned on her.

The doors slammed behind me as I walked out of the bar. It was what - a little after eight - in New York? That's basically early morning here. The streets were still swarming with a combination of clueless tourists and pissed off locals, but the noise only helped me drown out my thoughts. I began the trek home, more like the place I crash, when I felt someone's calloused hand grab my jean clad shoulder. If it's that goddamn drunk, this time I'll barbeque his ass. I whipped around, causing his hand to be flung from me, and then wrapped my fingers around the creeper's neck before slamming him against the concrete building.

"What?" I growled, panting from the adrenaline. My teeth were bared and my face was burning hot, but none of that hid the familiar warm eyes staring back at me. They seemed as shocked to see me this way as I was just to see him in general. "Stark?" I asked in almost disbelief, I was so consumed in joy in those two weak seconds that I almost forgot everything that happened. "What the hell do you want?" I passively asked, dropping my arms to my side and allowing him to catch his breath. After Sokovia, I did what I did best, I bailed. I don't know if it was the constant publicity or having my face plastered onto every news network ever saying I was a destructive teenager rather than a valid team member or even just the whole team dynamic being off, but I left. I slept in abandoned houses, rooftops, and even crashed at Sam's a couple of times, but I haven't been back in that tower for months now and I don't know if I'll ever return.

Tony sighed and dropped his hand to his side, "Look, Lucy, I know everything that has happened has been -"

I rolled my eyes and took a small step back, "It's Dany."

He scrunched his eyebrows together and made a very judgemental face, "Danny? What you changed your name to the ghost kid on Nickelodeon."

"No," I almost whined. "No, Dany as in Daenerys Targaryen. The Mother of Dragons. The woman who emerged from the flames unscathed, sound familiar?."

Tony smiled, almost as if he was seeing an old friend again, seeing the old side of me. The one that still believed in fairytales, even ones as dark as Game of Thrones. "Well, Khalesi, you change your name because you're a big, bad adult now? Is that why you went off on this little adventure?"

"No," I started and choked on the bile that had begun to risen in my throat. "No - you see Lucy died when the public found out about her. Lucy died when instead of being an agent in the field with a codename and an identity to keep to herself, she became a public figure. Some say hero others say national terrorist. The girl who wreaks havoc upon the world and blows up buildings to make them fall on innocent bystanders. Dany is nobody. I am nobody and that's how I would like to keep it, even if that means forever being on 'this little adventure.'" I gave him one last look before turning around and heading down a long, empty alleyway.

Part of me hoped he would call out and beg me to stay. Part of me was screaming about how stupid I was and how I should grow up. Why did it matter that everyone knew who I was? I mean, I was in that bar and nobody even noticed me. I was overreacting. I always overact. God, Tony, just tell me to stay - "Lucy isn't dead." I stopped in my tracks but didn't turn around. I just listened. "Lucy isn't dead, and just because you don't like the life given to you too freaking bad. Lucy isn't dead because I see her right in front of me, living and breathing. Maybe her old life is over, but she's adjusted before and she can do it again. The Lucy I know is strong and even when life gives her shit, she fights back. She doesn't go around sulking and complaining and letting the bad guys get the upperhand, and you're making a mockery of her life if you keep lulling around like you're doing right now."

Part of me wanted to scream I wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for him. If it wasn't for Ultron or the twins or HYDRA. Part of me wanted to scream that everything that happened wasn't my fault. I was just caught in the middle, but I can't go around in life blaming everyone except myself. I added to the destruction, the demise of my old self. I let everything consume me when I should've fought back. I'm going to fight back. I slowly turned around to face him, both of his hands were clenched and his chest kept rapidly rising and falling, but it wasn't out of anger, it was out of me not understanding. No matter what happens, you're not supposed to lose sight of who you are. You're not supposed to give up because you're not the person you want to be, you're supposed to evolve. Become better.

"You're right."

This seemed to take him back a bit. In my entire existence, I don't think I ever admitted someone else was right and I was wrong. And here I was, standing in a dark alleyway with silver locks blowing into my face, looking Iron Man straight in the eyes telling him just that. The tension seemed to roll of his shoulders and he gave me an infamous Tony Stark smirk, "Yeah?"

I nodded, "You're right. She's not dead, but she's not the same girl she used to be. She's not Pyro. She's not that kind of superhero anymore."

"Then who is she?"

I looked down at my feet to see a slight reflection of myself in the murky puddle water. There was a girl staring back at me with wild eyes and even wilder hair. She looked back at me with not as much fire in her soul as when she first took the job. She seemed to be more tamed despite still fighting for everything she believed in. She was no longer a raging fire, she was more of just the beginning where the burning wood had just begun to ignite. Something delicate and fierce and beautiful all on its own. Something like - "The Wisp."