The Mimic

8

The end to the night was a slow one. Y/n tried her hardest to stay involved in what the team were up to, desperate for a distraction. She didn't want to be reminded of her parents again. 

Scott had been officially banned from going near any kitchen appliance after the smoothie incident, which of course caused some drama after dinner. Scott knew how much Vision hated it when people left their plates out, so he was just trying to get it to the dishwasher - which caused a standoff between him and Steve. Steve stood in the doorway to the kitchen, blocking Scott from getting in with a grin on his face. "Scott, just hand me the plate, I can do it." Steve suggested, holding his hand out to take the plate, but Scott refused. He was adamant that he should be able to do it himself. So it turned in to a stealth mission. He'd convinced Thor to get Steve distracted with trying to show proof of a 'xangaroo', and got y/n involved by making her a lookout whilst he snuck in to the kitchen. He got caught easily, forgetting that there were other people in the kitchen, but it was still fun. Plus, y/n was just happy to be involved in something that wasn't serious.

Soon enough, the team had gone to bed, and y/n was once again left alone with her thoughts. She had her own room now, it was nothing special, but she was still grateful. Y/n hated getting ready for bed, the darkness mixed with the deafening silence was far too much. Her scrambled mind ran free, and with this new memory she knew it was going to be even worse tonight. But, she pushed on through, there was nothing else she could do. She didn't want to disturb anyone. She hated feeling like a burden. 

Falling asleep was always the hardest. Y/n lay in bed, staring up at the endless darkness. Wanda had suggested that she could try counting sheep, so that's what y/n was doing. It didn't seem to be working, but y/n knew why. She dreaded falling asleep. She dreaded the nightmares to come. Every night since she got her mind back she'd have at least one nightmare. Sleeping was more like torture at this point, but nothing seemed to help, she just had to endure them. 

Slowly but surely, counting sheep begun to work. Y/n felt herself begin to drift off, and as much as she dreaded the nightmares to come, she couldn't stop herself...

Y/n was back as a child, curled up on the floor of the destroyed apartment. Her ears were ringing terribly from the loud explosions, and the air was thick with heavy smoke. The little girl had cuts and bruises all over her, crying hard into her dolly. She couldn't stop the bombs, her mother and father were dead. All she had was her dolly.

Y/n felt a hand tapping her back, causing her to flinch a little out of fear. She didn't think there was anyone else around. The little girl slowly lifted her head up, her whole body aching from the explosion. Her eyes adjusted to the smoky haze in the room quite quickly, wanting to see who'd tapped her on the back. There he was, the man in the suit. A sympathetic look on his face as he held out his hand for y/n to take. The strangers were back too, but y/n couldn't see far enough to tell what they were doing. 

"Oh dear, sweetheart. That didn't go as planned, did it?" The man in the suit cooed, not seeming to be damaged by the explosions at all. There wasn't even a speck of dirt on him. Y/n looked up at the man, tears falling freely down her face as she shook her head. Too in shock to form any words, but she kept a tight grip on her dolly. The man continued to hold his hand out, offering it for her to hold on to. "Let's get you out of here, shall we?  You don't want people to know that it was you that killed your parents." He hummed, keeping a sympathetic look on his face as he watched the terrified girl. "I can teach you how to control your powers. So something like this never happens again..." Y/n nodded hesitantly, carefully taking the man's hand as she stood up. The man in the suit guided y/n out of the destroyed apartment, humming along to the song that had been stuck in a broken loop on the record player. 

Y/n glanced around as they walked, tripping over pieces of rubble here and there. Her home was destroyed. There was nothing left. The strangers seemed to be laying out a pair of her shoes beside where her mother and father once were. One came up to the little girl, holding a hand out to take the doll. Y/n shook her head quickly in refusal, but the man in the suit tugged at her arm to get her attention. "You need to give him the dolly, y/n. Or otherwise they might catch you." He cooed. Y/n hesitated, giving her dolly one last squeeze as she continued to cry. Of course she didn't want to get caught, but her dolly was all that she had. "I'll come back for you." She whispered quietly to the dolly before handing it over. Watching as the stranger set it perfectly under a piece of rubble. 

Y/n suddenly jolted awake, gasping in air with wide eyes. She was in a cold sweat, her pyjamas sticking uncomfortably to her body, but that was the least of her worries. That was the most vivid nightmare she'd had all night. Y/n reached out to turn the lamp on, trying her hardest to regulate her breathing as she processed it all. 

That was why nobody found her. Why nobody knew who she was. Why there was no trace. People thought she was killed in the explosion...

Y/n quickly got up out of the bed, hugging herself tightly as she made her way toward the bedroom door. She needed a breather, some fresh air and a walk around. There was no way she could fall asleep again so soon, it was so fresh in her mind. She could still smell the smoke. Y/n took deep, shaky breaths as she stepped out in to the silent hallways. She debated going to see Wanda, but she didn't want to wake her up. So y/n decided to walk around the compound. Clear her thoughts and hopefully process what had just happened.