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𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝘼𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝙏𝙀𝙀𝙉 𝙈𝙊𝙑𝙄𝙀.

───○☆ ✸ ☆○───

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄: (AVENGERS: AGE OF ULTRON)

𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 ─ 𝐍𝐘𝐂, 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐑𝐊

𝟎𝟐 𝐌𝐀𝐘 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟓

───○☆ ✸ ☆○───

☆

"Why are you so nervous?" 

"I'm not nervous." 

"Very believable. I can tell you work for the CIA."

Sharon Carter gave her little sister a scowl as they watched the numbers continue to rise on the elevator. Elizabeth Carter only smiled innocently, glancing down at her hands in feigned curiosity, which she had painted a bright red to match the streaks of hair she'd dyed. Call it her act of rebellion. Now that Lizzie Carter was fourteen, and now officially no longer the baby of her family, all of the direction went to their freshly-birthed baby brother, Samuel Carter. He was cute. Sharon and Lizzie had to pretend like their parents didn't procreate while they were alone in NYC while their daughters' vacationed in D.C. for a few months—it was an odd conversation to find that Sophia Carter was pregnant. Again. With an even bigger gap in age than there was between Sharon and Lizzie. 

They were doing okay. Sammy was teething and screaming a lot, though, and with a new baby in the apartment, Lizzie had miraculously convinced her mother to let her live with Sharon at her apartment. Partially to sleep throughout the night, and partially because the two sisters had learned that there was an immaculate amount of separation anxiety involved when they were apart for too long. D.C. changed things. 

D.C. changed a lot. It had been more than a year since the Triskelion and S.H.I.E.L.D. fell apart. That didn't mean it was nearly enough time for Lizzie to fix the damage done to her. She still had nightmares. That was another reason why she moved in with Sharon—she didn't feel so bad waking her up screaming, not like when it happened just after Sammy was born and she woke him up three times a week. She flinched a lot now. Loud noises, sudden influxes of people—all of it carried on. Therapy did its best to help her with the PTSD, so did Steve and Sam, but it still left residual damage behind.

The scars, for one. Lizzie's scarred shoulder was on full display in the spaghetti-strapped black dress she was wearing, a jagged strip that wasn't pretty by any means but she had no problems showing it off. That was another thing that changed. She did end up making a full recovery by all health standards, but she still didn't play softball the same. She knew her body better than that, and what the doctors said did not match what her muscles were telling her. Her shoulder couldn't take pitching anymore, so she only played centerfield now. The physical therapy could only help so much. Archery was another topic—set for another time—with a certain man named Clint Barton. 

"Stop fidgeting," she jabbed, watching as Sharon's knees shook slightly. "Seriously. Your anxiety is palpable. You're shaking the elevator, and I swear I'll kill you if this thing drops. The two of you have been on, like, ten dates—" 

"Shut up, Lizzie." 

"—he literally takes up our guest room every time he comes to Brooklyn—" 

"Lizzie." 

"—and he's even made you breakfast before. I wasn't even there. He made you French toast. You want to tell me that there's nothing there? Mhm. You're as bad as Carson," Lizzie hummed knowingly, blinking her mascara-tinted lashes with a smirk. The elevator doors dinged, and she grinned, walking out like she owned the place. "I can give you a tour if you want. Tony wouldn't mind. He's gotten used to my lingering. He calls me a pest, but I know he likes all the questions—if he didn't, JARVIS woulda kicked me out of everywhere already."

Sharon sighed, and where her usual retort would have come in, it didn't. That's how Lizzie knew her sister was actually nervous. The younger of the two Carter sisters stopped, her little black wedges halting with her (her balance had gotten significantly better), to turn around and face her. Sharon was in a red dress, red lipstick matching Lizzie's (because Lizzie stole it) pursed together as she tried not to chew her lip from nerves. She was gorgeous. Drop-dead, and Lizzie would kill anyone who said otherwise. Literally. 

"Share," she said softer, pausing to get her attention. "Why are you so nervous? It's just Steve." 

"We kissed," she blurted out, and Lizzie's eyes widened the size of saucers, but Sharon was already in a small-state of panic just outside the door where a party was happening. Lizzie couldn't panic, too. That would just look bad. "And it was really great, but then I did your thing—the thing you usually do where you freak out and run away—"

"—I do not—" 

"—and we haven't talked to each other since. What if he regrets it?" 

Lizzie gaped at her. "You're joking, right? He's liked you for over a year now. I've had to put up with the weird sexual eyes and awkward tension between the two of you for waaay too long. I'm scarred for life after hearing Steve try to flirt with you and fail horribly. He definitely doesn't regret it. Knowing him, he's probably in here freaking out even more than you...actually, no, he's definitely in there freaking out more than you—" 

"Can you go talk to him?" Sharon asked, biting her lips nervously as she glanced in through the door. "And see what he's thinking?" 

"So I'm your wingman now?" she huffed out as she narrowed her eyes on her sister. Then she turned around, sighing deeply. "Fine. I'll go be your Sam. You owe me. But you're going in. Just linger in corners. You're good at that." 

Sharon did manage to send her a sharp look that time, and Lizzie shrugged before following her sister into the room. A spark of panic immediately peaked in the fourteen-year-old's chest, just for a second, at all of the noise. She still didn't do well in large crowds of people. But therapy was helping her get past that—so did pretending like it was fine in front of everyone, which was what she did so Sharon wouldn't notice anything was wrong. Lizzie set a smile on her face and squeezed her sister's arm, the two of them parting ways temporarily.

Lizzie never really expected to find herself in the Avengers Tower...like, ever. Sure, she knew Tony Stark, but that didn't mean he was taking open invitations to start a Kiddy-Daycare just for her. They weren't that close. Her dad and him barely talked to each other after he returned from being held captive. No one blamed him for that. Then D.C. happened, and Steve moved into the Tower, and she spent half of her life there when she wasn't at school. Not playing softball in the spring had that kind of effect, and she had to occupy herself somehow. 

Since she moved back to Brooklyn (and got into therapy, and got her parents' permission—easier said than done) she'd been working slowly with Steve on getting more involved in the saving-people-as-a-hobby side hustle. He hated it. Like, really, really hated it. They argued more than they ever had in the past, there were a lot of tears and frustration between the two for the first few months—Lizzie struggled. She was still struggling. But Steve took it all in stride, teaching his little girl and trying not to be too visibly upset by the fact that she was growing up. So they sparred, and sometimes he would turn a blind eye when she perfected her archery, and he taught her. For a year, he taught her everything.

"Hey, Romeos," she called, grinning when she got to the pool table. 

She'd spotted the two of them immediately in the crowd, headed in that direction before she even scoped out other people she might know. Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers both turned instantly at the sound of her voice, knowing it by heart now. Well, Steve knew her all the way down to her footsteps. Two wide grins reflected her own, and Sam scooped her up in his arms before Steve could get to her, lifting her off her feet and squeezing the life out of her. Lizzie snorted and hugged him back, her hands going to his shoulders to brace herself for when he threw her back down on the ground—which he did, but thankfully a familiar pair of arms grabbed her before she broke an ankle. 

Lizzie smiled knowingly at Steve, her arms wrapping around his neck as he bent down to her level, the two of them hugging. The hugs with Steve were always different than anyone else. They reminded her of her Dad's hugs. Warm, safe, protected. She'd seen him last week before he left for his mission—the reaction wasn't as extreme as Sam, who'd been without contact with Lizzie for a few months—but still she welcomed every hug from her best friend, especially when he was back home safely after going away. He pulled away and rubbed her back affectionally, the two hovering around one another.

"You look nice," he said, complimenting her appearance. He tried not to be that overprotective 'parent' and say anything about the length of her dress. Lizzie wouldn't care or listen to what he had to say, so he didn't say anything. "I didn't think you were going to come." 

She shrugged her shoulders, both boys noticing the imbalance in them. "Changed my mind...well, Sharon changed my mind. Speaking off, dude—" she shot him a knowing look, and his face fell into an instant flush. Sam's grin spiked. "—I know your capacity to understand human intimacy from the female specimen is lacking from your Ice-Age days, but you don't ignore a girl after kissing her. Especially my sister." 

"No," Sam gaped, gasping at Steve with a shit-eating grin. "You kissed Carter?" 

More than one. Lizzie turned her attention to the other stooge, her eyes raising. "You have absolutely no room to talk." 

"Wha—" 

"How's Carson doing?" she asked suggestively, crossing her arms over her chest. Sam's grin fell, and with it, Steve's went up. The two men met eyes, both under the heat of the girl's stare, and felt the scolding of a lifetime. She was definitely a Carter. "That's what I thought. You know, she's not going to wait for you forever. Neither of them will. They'll marry each other just to spite you two." 

Both knew that was true. Steve glanced over Lizzie's head, looking around the room. "Is she here?" 

"Check by the bar. Don't be an idiot. She likes beer, not wine." 

Steve hesitated a moment before nodding once, handing the pool stick he'd been using to Sam. He pressed a kiss to the side of Lizzie's head before walking away, leaving Lizzie alone with Sam for a moment. The man rocked on his heels before shooting a grin her way, the gap between his teeth only making her smile start to rise. She loved Sam—she really did—and when he held out the pool stick Steve was using, she took it in her free hand and smirked at him. 

"You know I'm competitive," she taunted, tutting her lip as she walked around the table. "Bad decision, Trouble-Man." 

"Bring it on, Baby Carter," he challenged. "Speaking of baby Carter, how's my little man doing?" 

Oh, yeah. Baby Sammy was (to Sam's uncontainable joy) named after Sam Wilson. He'd saved Lizzie's life, after all. 

"His teeth are coming in. He's not too happy about it. He likes pulling my hair a lot ever since I dyed it," she said, going to pull at one of the strands near the front that her baby brother loved the most. Sam's mischievous hands went for it too, and she quickly whacked it away. "Nu uh. Baby Sammy is cute so I let it slide. I'll break your hand." 

Sam looked offended. "I'm cute." 

"Carson thinks so," Lizzie said innocently, glancing down at the pool table. Then she paused when she saw two older men ahead, wearing their veteran hats. That brought back a solemn thought, and she glanced over at Sam with sad eyes. "Still no news?" 

After D.C., Sam stayed by Steve's side. So did a lot of people. After S.H.I.E.L.D. fell apart, there were a lot of people scrambling to figure out what was next for them. Sharon managed to get hired by the CIA, stationed in Brooklyn with occasional vacations to random places in the world. Steve had the Avengers to fall back on. Sam and Carson were too anomalies no one really expected. Both of them stayed back in D.C. while everyone else came back to New York, working together for Steve on an important case to both of them: Bucky. Carson doing it for her grandfather, and Sam doing it for Steve. 

"Just cold leads," he said with a sigh, moving across the table so that he could aim his stick. "I'm startin' to think our friend doesn't like giving us a break. What about you? How's your spy training coming, Mini-Cap? Steve avoids the topic." 

"Because Steve hates the topic." Sam sighed and raised up when he missed his assigned ball, cursing. "Sucks—but we fight pretty much every time I manage to get him into the training room here. You'd think after what, fifteen months?—he'd stop finding excuses to run away from teaching me but...nope. No, he's still going strong. It's impressive, actually." 

"Give him some credit, Baby C—you cheated, how the hell—" Sam watched Lizzie sink two balls in at once "—he's still trying to figure out fatherhood." 

Lizzie sent him a sharp glare. "Dad's already put him through a 'Lessons-on-Lizzie' course. He's got that handled. He just won't accept that I'm growing up. I mean, I'm gonna be fifteen this year—" 

"Ouch, damn. Even that hurt me." 

"—and even though the world hasn't necessarily imploded in on itself since the evil Nazi's came out, there are still people out there. I mean, HYDRA didn't just disappear, and if...if he's still alive..." she noticed Sam's humor dry quickly at the mention of Rumlow "...who knows if he'll come back to finish the job? Fury and Monroe hid my last name from the system, but that doesn't mean he has to work hard to figure it out." 

Sam stopped the game, and walked around the table. "You're stressing."

"I'm a stresser. I stress. Anxiety does that." 

"Yeah? Well, it ain't healthy, SJ." 

Oh, yeah. She was also SJ now. Steve Junior, as Sam called her whenever she sounded too much like her favorite superhero. Steve almost called her BJ for Bucky Junior and she stopped that one real quick. 

"I'd stop stressing so much if Steve would stop treating me like a baby. You know I picked up a gun a few weeks ago and he acted like I was four? Sometimes I think he forgets who my aunt is." 

"Trust me, he doesn't forget." Lizzie knew that was true. "I met her, y'know. Your aunt. Badass woman. I see where you and Sharon get it from...whenever she has one of her good days, he goes and talks with her about you. Comes and visits me whenever he gets done seeing her. It's getting harder on him."

Aunt Peggy was getting worse. Her bad days were her worst days, and her good days were no longer 'good days' but rather days where she remembered something. She'd been elated to heart that she had another nephew, but even when they took Baby Sammy to see her for the first time, she'd thought that it was Lizzie's dad. Most of the time, everyone tried to dodge around what happened with S.H.I.E.L.D. because no one, not even Nick Fury himself, could bear to look into the eyes of Peggy Carter and tell her what had happened to the organization she worked so hard to build. 

"Yeah...it's getting harder on all of us."

Their conversation stopped there, giving Lizzie just enough time to sink another ball in.

───○☆ ✸ ☆○───

Sam was a sore loser. More than once. Multiple times, actually, did he lose to Lizzie Carter and claim he was only being generous and letting her win. She knew that wasn't true, but she let him take his losses all the way to the other side of the room where a group of WWII veterans were drinking. Steve was still by the bar talking with Sharon, and by the way their cheeks were flushing and the awkward gestures they were making, things were going well. So that left Lizzie to her own devices. Her legs dangled off the side slightly, and she ran her fingers along the small scar on her left knee. Another memory.

She found a spot up top on the second floor, slightly diverted from the rest of the crowd, people-watched. The air inside of her lungs was getting slightly heavier to breathe, which was usually the first indication (as her therapist says) that she was becoming overly-anxious. Panic attacks usually converted themselves into a full-blown flashback, and Lizzie really couldn't handle that in a room full of party-goers. So she stuck one of her headphones in her ear and listened to music. The sound diluted the party, making it more bearable. Rarely would you find her without her headphones shoved in her ears now-a-days. 

"Found you," said a voice, coming to sit down next to her and dangle their legs off as well. Lizzie smiled softly, but continued to look below. Clint watched with her for a few minutes, the two of them comfortable where they were, but she was just waiting for him to ask questions. "How's the shoulder?"

She felt the phantom pain from when it was shattered. "Better. Hurts on the cold days. PT should be ending here soon, so I'll be able to do more with it, but the doctors are saying it looks fine." 

"Still practicing?" he asked. 

"When I can get around my babysitter," she hummed, her eyes flickering down to Steve. Him and Sharon were lingering at the bar with Natasha and Doctor Banner now. "He's still holding back on me and it's been more than a year...I'm still working through it. It's different. Drawing back, holding the bow—pitching a softball...I'm still reteaching myself. I thought I'd be back where I was before I messed it up, y'know, being so long since it happened and all but..."

"Recovering is a process," he said, giving her a slight nudge against her elbow. "In more than just the physical." 

A bitter taste burned on her tongue, and she looked at him with a frown. "Did Steve tell you I was still in therapy?" 

"Didn't have to. You're telling me right now," and when that only made Lizzie's face pull down further, adjusting herself so that she was less obvious in her pain, he shook his head and looked back out to the crowd. He gestured toward the one bud not in her ear, the wire laying on her lap."Is it the noise or the people?" 

"Noise." 

"What about it?" 

"I can't hear," she explained slowly, messing around with the chain around her neck. The necklace had a different set of dog-tags now. Sam and Steve's. "I don't like not being able to hear. I used to have to sleep with a TV on at night, or music, or something...now I can't even have the fan on. I don't like not being able to hear everything—or see everything. I usually try and keep my headphones in whenever I'm around big crowds. Keeps me from getting too worked up and have a panic attack." 

Clint sighed, acknowledging what she'd said. "You tell anyone else this?" 

"Like who?" she snorted, looking at him. "My therapist? Steve? My sister? They've been hovering over me for more than a year just waiting for me to freak out over the smallest things. I feel like I'm a criminal. They're trained spies. I'm sure they've noticed without me spilling my guts to them." 

"Talking about it isn't just for them to know. Sometimes it's nice to talk about it out loud." 

"When did you turn into Doctor Phil?" 

"Always been philosophical," he said, grinning over at her. "I've also always been pretty good with kids. I just wanted to check in. I saw you up in my spot and didn't peg you for the loner type at a party." 

"Just watching." 

His lip tilted into a smirk, raising his brows. "Checking for blind spots?" 

"That's my job," she replied, smiling softly over at him at the suggestion. "You guys still coming to my graduation? It's in a couple weeks." 

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, kiddo." 

Clint and Lizzie didn't say anything else to each other, enjoying what they could of the quiet up top. He did stay there a while longer, sipping the beer she'd only just realized he brought with him. Lizzie liked Clint. He was quiet and took his time to observe his surrounds rather than bulldoze his way through them. He was the side of Lizzie that she saw herself becoming as she got older—in between the lines of being what Tony called a 'Mini-Cap' and Margaret Junior, of course. She didn't mind being a mix of people. It just meant she had different heroes to look up to in different ways. 

Lizzie, on a normal circumstance, would have loved the opportunity to get up and talk to Thor since they had only met on a few occasions, but he was plenty drunk and she worried he might try to sling her across the room. He was standing around some veterans, Steve next to him, while Sharon talked off to the side with Maria Hill. Every so often, Steve and Sharon would glance up and check on her, having pinpointed her hiding spot after noticing she was no longer with Sam. Lizzie couldn't help but roll her eyes at that—they were definitely still co-parenting. 

She glanced down at her phone, noticing a text message had come in over the sound of her music. 'CASEY' with a few hearts next to her name appeared, and she instantly smiled a little wider. The two girls weren't official or anything, they'd decided that long distance wasn't for them, but she had come up to NYC over spring break. She'd also come over summer break, and after an awkward encounter of Lizzie and Casey kissing on the couch, Lizzie came out to her parents. Not like she had much of a choice.

It wasn't an easy as she made it sound. She might have gotten the lucky end of the stick—having supportive parents—but Lizzie knew others weren't as accepting. She still wasn't sure if she would be able to come out to the rest of the world. That was a hurdle she hadn't yet figured out. So her parents knew. Sharon knew. Carson knew. Taylor knew. She had not yet figured out the right way to tell Steve—part of her hoped he'd understand, the other part of her worried. Even if he loved her, sometimes people acted different.

Lizzie really liked Casey, and even though things didn't work for a relationship, she still cared about her. She was her first kiss. Her first crush, discovering her sexuality. They'd become best friends...who flirt occasionally. They talked nearly every day, almost as much as Lizzie talked to her best-friend Taylor. The conversations were just different, a lot of flirting going into her texts with Casey. She'd sent her a snapchat of her outfit for the party, and Casey's text message was just a couple dozen heart-eye emojis and a screenshot of the picture as Casey's new lock screen. 

Lizzie rolled her eyes with a smile. Dork. When she looked up again, a good amount of the party had died down, and she sighed heavily. She figured she should at least engage with the people she did know. Pushing herself up off the ground, mindful not to flash anyone her Nike spandex underneath, she made her way down the steps and played up her excitement to be back in the center of the party. Her headphones stayed in her ears.

"Smalls!" Just like that, she sucked back in. She felt someone wrap their arm around her shoulder, and she rolled her eyes with a smile when she noticed Tony Stark smugly grinning down at her. "Nice to see you looking as terrifyingly beautiful as your sister over there. Tell me, what's going on with the two of them? Does Rogers finally have his first girlfriend? Ugh. They grow up so fast—" 

Tony Stark was something else, and Lizzie was his perfect counterpart. "Yeah, right. Steve hasn't gotten past the vomiting-on-command phase with his words around her, so knowing him, he's probably got a couple more mistakes lined up before he can get out asking her to be his girlfriend." 

"He's nothing if not a man with bad timing." 

"Star-Spangled Man without a Plan."

"It's sad to watch. I feel like I need to help him out. Do you think he needs help?" 

"Actually, he's doing a lot better than he has in the past—" the two of them watched as Steve went to pull another beer out from the bar, handing it to Sharon only for him to accidentally tip it and spill it off the side and onto her shoes. Lizzie winced. "I'm sorry. I spoke too soon. It's like a bad infomercial for paper towel absorbency."

"Better go help Bounty clean up his mess. His absorbency is painful to watch—hey!" he called right before she went to walk away from him, pointing a finger in her direction. "Crab ragoons?" 

She raised her eyebrows at him, but didn't ask questions. "Orange chicken." 

Tony nodded and turned around with a wave of his hand, his extravagance never-ending and making her smile and shake her head at the ground. Then, she walked over to where Steve and Sharon were awkwardly trying to clean up the mess he'd made, noticing the way that they both exhaled a sigh in relief when they noticed her coming toward them. Pitiful, she thought. What would they ever do without her?

"Mom and Dad having fun without me?" 

───○☆ ✸ ☆○───

Lizzie scrunched her nose up at the fortune cookie in her hands. 

Don't be discouraged, because every wrong attempt discarded is another step forward.

"I don't like mine," she said blankly. She frowned. "Who wants to trade?" 

The large party of people that had crowded the Avengers Tower was severely downgraded to a mere few, exclusive to the Avengers and their closest friends. Chinese food sat in front of them, Lizzie with an order of orange chicken and rice in front of her, using her chopsticks as a skewer more than their true usage. Not that she couldn't use them, but it was much easier to just stab the thing than get all fancy. Unlike Clint, who had learned tricks with his pair in the last half hour, going from a chopstick-thrower to a drummer in a few minutes. 

Natasha raised her hand from across the small seating area, her legs curled up to her chest in a similar fashion as Lizzie, except she was still wearing her dress from earlier. Lizzie had already changed into an over-sized grey shirt and athletic shorts. Her wedges were nowhere to be found. The two of them hadn't really spoke a lot, but Lizzie was still comfortable with Natasha. She'd kept her alive once before, and she'd kept Steve alive more than once. Natasha was also the only one aside from Steve and Sharon to look attentively at the headphones still hanging from Lizzie's ear. 

"I got 'long life is in store for you'," the redhead said, shrugging as she leaned forward to flick the fortune in the direction of Lizzie, giving it to her. "All yours." 

Clint, drunk for the most part, snorted and crumbled his up in her direction as he shoved another eggroll into his mouth. "Here. Take another. Says 'depart not from the path which fate has you assigned.' Whatever the hell that means. I mean, come on, who comes up with this crap?" 

"Both are better than mine," Hill hummed, downing another long gulp of beer. "'Follow the middle path. Neither extreme will make you happy.'" 

"That's not even bad." 

"You want it then?" Hill offered Clint, raising her eyebrows. Tony grinned, leaning forward and displaying his piece of paper in the front, clearing his throat like it was an important message. "Oh, here we go." 

"Well, mine is perfect. Whoever came up with these needs a raise," Tony said without pause, upping the anticipation as everyone in the room stared at him. Rhodey was the one to sigh the loudest and throw his head back, his own beer going to his mouth. He'd lived with the antics the longest to know what came next. "'You are the master of every situation.' Perfect, right?" 

"Absolutely not—" Hill snorted.

"How many did you open to get that one?" Rhodey accused. 

As those in the room bickered with one another, going over the fortunes that they'd received with their meals, Lizzie pulled her knees up to her chin and laid her head on them, listening to the music dulled softy in her ear. Then, she turned to look at Steve, who was grinning to her left, a beer in his hand and his arm thrown across the back of the couch where she was sitting. Sam left already, unfortunately for them, but Sharon was curled up on the other side of Steve, leaned into his side from her tipsy-state. 

Steve glanced over at Lizzie, his eyes softening, and she smiled in return. Sticking her fingers out and pinching them like an eager child, he caught onto what she was asking for and handed the fortune cookie over to her. He hadn't opened his yet. She cracked the cookie, shoving it into her mouth and filling her cheeks up, then leaned back so both of them could read his fortune. 

You are a person of another time.

Lizzie and Steve both stopped, her mid-crunch and him mid-smile. Slowly, like they'd just been told aliens exist, the two of them looked away from the fortune slip and at each other. Then Lizzie scrunched up the fortune, deciding it might be better for them to not look at any more fortunes of other people. Sharon glanced at them weirdly when she noticed their odd behavior, flicking her fortune Lizzie's way next so that her little sister could have hers, too. 

The younger Carter almost didn't even want to look at the thing, suddenly superstitious. But she did anyway because her curiosity got the better of her, and she unfolded the slip. Steve teetered over her shoulder. You seek to shield those you love and like the role of provider was written down, along with her lucky numbers, and Lizzie puffed out a breath at the standard-sounding fortune. Nothing special. Definitely Sharon. 

Then she looked over her shoulder at Thor, grinning down at her like she was a baby—which she was next to him, both literally and physically—and she caught sight of the folded fortune. A laugh broke out of her mouth before she could help it, releasing any tension previously. You love chinese food. Fitting, again. The blonde-haired God relished in the sound of her laugh, the two of them only just beginning to interact with one another and already enjoying the presence of the other—Lizzie was good, all light, and Thor couldn't spend enough time by her side, enjoying her company. 

Lizzie ended up somewhere half-passed out on Steve's shoulder while him and Sharon mumbled to one another, her eyes weighing heavier the longer she stayed up. She hadn't slept well the night before. Another nightmare. Only when she heard the loud exclamation of Clint, obviously frustrated about something, did she jolt awake and shoot her head up. Steve's arm went out instantly for her, set to calm her down, his blue eyes connecting with her brown, panic-stricken ones. When she realized there was no danger, she slowly lowered her head again, trying to get rid of her racing heartbeat. 

"Come on, it's a trick!" Clint had been saying, referencing the hammer that lay stagnant on the top of their makeshift dining table in the living room.

Thor only seemed amused by his reaction. "Oh, no. It's much more than that." 

"Uh, 'whosoever be he worthy shall haveth the power!' Whatever man! It's a trick." 

"Well, please, be my guest," Thor urged, gesturing at Mjölnir. Lizzie asked him ten times how to pronounce it. Still didn't get it right. She'd get it eventually.

Clint wasn't going to pass up on that offer. "Really?" 

"Oh, this is going to be beautiful," Rhodey grinned, sitting back when Clint rose from his seat and walked over to the hammer. Him and Tony shared mirrored expressions of amusement, while Lizzie leaned back even further, leaning slightly over Steve's chest to see past Thor.

"Father, cover your child's ears," Tony gestured toward Lizzie, and Steve sighed before quickly covering her ears. Tony managed to get the phrase out before she was grumbling and ripping away from his hold. "Clint, you've had a tough week, we won't hold it against you if you can't get it up." 

"You know I've seen this before, right?" Clint said just as Lizzie managed to get out of Steve's makeshift earbuds, sending him a look. Then, she peered over to watch Clint wrap his hand around the handle of the hammer, pulling with all of his might, only to be left winded and frustrated. He laughed, finally stopping before he herniated. "I still don't know how you do it." 

"Smell the silent judgement?" 

Clint looked at Tony, raised eyebrows, and stepped away. "Please, Stark, by all means." 

Tony grinned and got up instantly at the challenge, unbuttoning the lapels of his suit and swaggering over to the hammer with a confidence no one else could muster. He sent Lizzie a wink on his way before turning around to everyone else, who were all leaving snide comments and smirking through the show Tony gave them on his way over. 

"Never one to shrink from an honest challenge. It's physics," he explained like it was obvious, and then he wrapped the small band around his wrist, grasping the handle of the hammer soon after. He glanced back at Thor. "Right. So...if I lift it, I then rule Asgard?" 

"Yes, of course," Thor encouraged, and when Lizzie shot him a look knowing that definitely wasn't the way it worked, he only smiled in her direction. 

"I will be re-instituting Prima Nocta."

For the next twenty minutes, Lizzie Carter had the opportunity to watch half of the Avengers try their battle with the infamous hammer Thor always carried around. She itched with curiosity—not for herself, God knows she'd never be able to lift the thing, but she was curious about the man sitting next to her. If those who wielded it needed to be worthy, what better to hold onto that kind of responsibility than Steve? So when Bruce gave a show-stopping performance that left everyone staring at him blankly, everyone turned to their next-awaiting Avenger. 

At Lizzie's eager grin and pestering push, Steve smiled, pulling himself up off the couch between the two Carter girls and going over to the hammer next. Suddenly very awake, Lizzie leaned forward, now nearly toppling over Thor's large-body just to get front row seats. Steve rolled up his sleeves and held the handle with both hands, and then he pulled. Both Lizzie and Thor's faces dropped in surprise when the hammer moved slightly, squeaking against the table's surface, but Steve never managed to get it completely off. He sighed in defeat and raised his hands in surrender, stepping away from the hammer and falling back down next to Lizzie and Sharon. 

"So close," Lizzie sighed pitifully, pinching her index and thumb together. "Could've ruled an entire...universe?" she turned to look over at Thor, confused. "What exactly do you classify Asgard as? It's not a country, right? Is it a world?" 

Thor's eyes brightened at her question. "My home is one of the Nine Realms, a group of planets interconnected by the branches of Yggdrasil." 

"Oh," she nodded, taking in the information. "Sweet. So is Earth one of the realms?" 

"It is, but your kind are scarcely underdeveloped compared to the other realms." 

"Yeah. I'm not surprised by that."

 Before they could continue their conversation, Lizzie was called up. Clint was grinning across the room from her, and she raised her eyebrows so that he would repeat the question. Tony, Rhodey, Natasha, and Agent Hill all had their eyes on her with genuine curiosity lighting up their expressions. 

Tony nodded toward Mjölnir, expectantly. "Go pick up the hammer, Handy Manny." 

 "Yeah. No thanks. I already messed up my shoulder once. I don't need it to happen again." 

"Widow?" Bruce asked next, turning to the redhead.

"Oh, no. No, that's not a question I need answered," Natasha instantly denied, turning to grin at the blonde across the couch from her. "Agent Thirteen? Want to go a round with the big boys?" 

Lizzie turned to Sharon, who only smirked and raised her beer. "Maybe later." 

"Well, all deference to the man who wouldn't be king, but it's rigged," Tony said blatantly, like the answer was obvious as he all but glared at the hammer in front of them, standing up next to Rhodey as they went to grab another drink. 

Clint nodded, going with them and clapping Tony on the shoulder. "You bet your ass." 

"Steve," Hill called out, her voice wavering for a moment from her intoxication. Aside from Steve, Lizzie was the only sober one in the place by now. Hill pointed at Clint. "He said a bad language word." 

Steve sighed, looking at Tony. "Did you tell everyone about that?" 

"Wait, what?" Lizzie interrupted, looking between everyone in confusion. "What happened?" 

"Steve yelled 'language' when I said a potty word during our last mission to get the evil scepter from the bad guys. Must've gotten it from somewhere," Tony decided as he gave her a questionable narrowed eyes, like she was the cause of his uncharacteristic act. Lizzie opened her mouth wide, turning to look at Steve who sighed loudly, knowing she would definitely never let him live it down. Oh, he didn't. "The handle's imprinted, right? Like a security code. 'Whosoever is carrying Thor's fingerprints' is, I think, the literal translation?"

"Yes, well that's, uh, that's a very, very interesting theory. I have a simpler one." Thor rolled his eyes, still grinning at the theatrics of everyone attempting to lift his hammer. Then, he pushed himself up off the couch, reaching to grab a hold of Mjölnir like the thing was as light as a feather, flipping it in his hand. "You're all not worthy."

There was a chorus of protests in the air, and Lizzie met eyes with Sharon past Steve's back when he leaned forward, the two sisters only finding the situation amusing to say the least. Sharon was more relaxed now than when she came in, molding to the atmosphere—and Steve. They weren't Avengers, they weren't used to the banter, but they definitely knew their own sense of it. But the antics were quickly cut short by a loud, piercing sound ringing through the room, silencing everyone. Lizzie instantly winced and ripped her headphones out, cradling her hands up to her ears in hopes that it would help, noticing that everyone else had similar reactions. 

Then, the mechanical sound of something groaning to life brought her attention across the room. Steve stood up instantly, taking a defensive position in front of the two Carter girls, who would have rolled their eyes at the heroic act had they not been too focused ahead of them. They stood up next, watching as a shadow came out from the darkness, a muffled sound of something talking shuddering the silence. Then, it turned around, revealing burning blue eyes and the regurgitated parts of a bot with missing gears. The Avenger's logo was planted directly where its heart should be.

"Worthy...no...how could you be worthy? You're all killers." 

Steve's eyes never left the thing standing across the room, his jaw clenched tightly. "Stark." 

"JARVIS—" Tony tried, but he was quickly interrupted. 

"I'm sorry...I was asleep. Or...I was a—dream?" the bot continued, disoriented. Lizzie's heart started to race faster, slowly glancing around the room, noticing Tony fiddle anxiously with his tablet. Her eyes caught something. "There was a terrible noise...and I was tangled in... in...strings. I had to kill the other guy. He was a good guy."

Steve, alarmed, looked at the thing. "You killed someone?" 

"Wouldn't have been my first call...but, down in the real world, we're faced with ugly choices." 

"Who sent you?" Thor asked. 

When a brief, replayed message echoed throughout the room carried out by none-other than Tony himself explaining a suit of armor around the world, Bruce turned to look at him with wide-eyes, putting the pieces together. "Ultron." 

"In the flesh...or no. Not yet. Not this...chrysalis," Ultron said disgusted, teetering forward. Lizzie and Sharon met eyes with one another, Sharon going for the gun she'd hidden in her thigh holster, pulling it out and holding it discretely at her side. A different instinct shot up Lizzie's spine. Steve's muscles tightened. "But I'm ready. I'm on a mission."

Natasha warily asked the question no one wanted the answer to. "What's the mission?" 

"Piece of our time."  

In a split-second, bots came bursting out of the wall behind Ultron. Lizzie dropped into a roll to one side, Sharon going in the other direction. They looked up just in time to see the table they were eating from fly up, protecting them from the onset of bots but only sending Steve, who flipped the table, fifty feet back behind the couch. Lizzie barely had a moment to glance back to see that there was a bot flying in her direction. Instantly, she scrambled up and slid underneath a small railing just as the bot shot at her, hearing Steve sound "MJ!" behind her. She was small enough to fit between the spindles of the stairs, crawling on all fours up to the top and barely making it there before something shot at her again, sending her flying back into a set of furniture.

Lizzie groaned, wincing when she hit her head up against the metal side of a chair. She'd not even managed to get up off the ground before the bot was being completely demolished, Thor's figure coming up in between the mangled parts of the thing to show Mjölnir. He sent her a concerned look and she shook her head, waving him off. She paused when she saw that there was a gun hidden underneath the chair she'd hit and stumbled back to her feet, holding the weapon in her hand steadily. She barely heard Sharon shout to Hill, thankful to hear her voice, and rushed over to the side of the walkway on the second floor.

"Lizzie! Down!" she heard from behind her, and she glanced up just to see a bot coming in between her and Clint, not having realized he was up on the second floor with her. She slid down onto the floor quickly when it sent another shot her way, completely blasting through the bar, raising her gun and firing directly between the wirings in its neck. 

Then, she paused. She'd landed next to what the object she'd been scouring for earlier and pushed herself up quickly. Steve's hand was held tightly with one hand, the other sliding the gun across the floor to Clint so that he could grab it and instantly start shooting the next bot that came their way. She saw Steve halfway across the room and instantly jogged forward, calling his name while she threw the shield with the same force she'd throw a softball. Hard.

"Steve!" 

He caught it the moment it was sent to him, launching it back in the direction of the last bot flying in the air. The thing exploded into another fit of parts, and when it crashed to the ground, everyone stopped. Clint and Lizzie stood next to each other, breathing hard, wondering if it was over. Briefly, she brought her hand up to her forehead and winced when she brought it back down to see blood. She met eyes with Sharon briefly, halfway across the room next to Hill, the two of them holding onto their guns tightly. Ultron, who had been standing there watching as the chaos ensued, only groveled at the destruction and toddled his way around. 

"That was dramatic," he—it?— said blandly. "I'm sorry. I know you mean well. You just didn't think it through. You want to protect the world, but you don't want it to change. How is humanity saved if it's not allowed to...evolve?" He picked up one of the bots that had been dismembered, ripping the face off it with ease. "With these...these puppets? There's only one path to piece: the Avengers extinction—"

Thor's hammer was flying into Ultron's body before he could get out his last word, sending the thing flying in multiple pieces through the room.  

"I had strings, but now I'm free...there are no strings on me."

───○☆ ✸ ☆○───

Lizzie pushed away Sharon's hand when she went up toward her head again, inspecting it, just wanting the prying fingers to get away from her. It was bad enough that Steve refused to leave her side, she didn't need Sharon attempting to monitor her every muscle to make sure that she was intact. Her forehead was bleeding, a small cut that Doctor Helen Cho was able to check out and patch up in seconds. Only five stitches needed. What Lizzie cared about was the shards of glass stuck in her feet, her black socks managing to hide the stains up until she pulled them off and revealed the damage. So much for taking her heels off.

"Sharon, stop, I'm fine," she insisted quietly, shooting her sister another glare.

The others in the room were talking mutely in the background, but Lizzie tried to block out as much as possible with her headphones. Her hands were already trembling, this being the first real thing she'd experienced since D.C. The first time she'd held a gun and shot it in the direction of something since Rumlow. The name burned her brain, and she tried her hardest to get rid of it, but even the slightest of things served as a sickening reminder of him. Steve, still engaged in the conversation with the Avengers, hovered protectively over where Lizzie was seated on one of the stools, using his forearm not to fall off the stool while she pried the glass out with her other hand.

"He said he killed someone," Clint said, making Lizzie glance up momentarily from her bloody feet. 

Maria, doing the same thing across the room, looked up too. "But there wasn't anyone else in the building." 

"Yes there was," Tony said, matter-of-factly. 

Everyone suddenly fell quiet when he pulled something up in the center of the room, the hologram a burning and destroyed orange. No one needed any explanation on what they were staring at. Lizzie's back straightened, something tugging in her gut that triggered tears in her eyes when she caught on. No. Her hand fell slack off of Steve's arm, staring defeatedly at the destruction. JARVIS. He was her friend. Bruce was the only one willing to step forward and stare at what was left of JARVIS' consciousness painfully.

"This is...insane," he muttered, looking down at it. 

Steve crossed his arms next to her, upset at the news. "JARVIS was the first line of defense. He would've shut Ultron down. It makes sense." 

"No. Ultron could've assimilated JARVIS. This isn't strategy, this is...rage." 

When a body suddenly came charging into the room, grabbing a hold of Tony by the throat on their way and walking his dandling body forward, Lizzie all but hobbled out of her seat with her bloody feet to stop them. Sharon and Steve had both soccer-mom'd her before she had the chance to even think about it, their arms crossing over like a barrier as she watched Tony be strangled by Thor. Was no one else going to help?

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Clint called out. "It's going around." 

Tony choked out, trying to get him to release his hold. "Come on. Use your words, buddy." 

"I have more than enough words to describe you, Stark," Thor growled, his grip tightening. 

When Lizzie lurched forward again, Steve stepped up. "Thor! The Legionnaire." 

Reluctantly, Thor let go of Tony and turned to the others. He'd gone out in each of the bot that had disappeared with the object they'd confiscated from the HYDRA base on their last mission. "Trail went cold about a hundred miles out but it's headed north, and it has the scepter. Now we have to retrieve it, again." 

Right, Lizzie thought. One of them got away. With the evil scepter. 

"The genie's out of that bottle," Natasha said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Clear and present is Ultron."

Doctor Helen Cho looked at the remains of the body of Ultron, collecting from the scraps that had been destroyed by the hammer they were messing around with only thirty minutes ago. "I don't understand. You built this program. Why is it trying to kill us?"

Tony started to let out a string of muffled, exasperated laughs. Thor had already had enough, ready to go for his throat again. "You think this is funny?" 

"No. It's probably not, right? Is this very terrible?" Tony asked, like the answer wasn't obvious as he continued to laugh to himself. "Is it so...is it so...it is. It's so terrible."

"This could've been avoided if you hadn't played with something you don't understand."

"No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It is funny. It's a hoot that you don't get why we need this."

Bruce, knowing where Tony was going with the conversation, paused. "Tony, maybe this might not be the time to..."

"Really?!" Tony exclaimed, whirling around to look at the man in disbelief. Lizzie winced at the way his voice raised. "That's it? You just roll over, show your belly, every time somebody snarls."

 Bruce scowled. "Only when I've created a murder bot." 

"We didn't!" Tony protested. "We weren't even close. Were we close to an interface?" 

Steve frowned off to the side, his eyes flickering down momentarily to Lizzie and Sharon before he returned to Tony. "Well, you did something right. And you did it right here. The Avengers were supposed to be different than SHIELD." 

There it was. Another involuntary response. Now she knew why Steve looked. Lizzie sucked in a deep breath, focusing on her feet once again to try and ease her mind away from the thoughts that played out in her mind anytime SHIELD was mentioned. They played like a mantra now, a flash-film she never wanted to relive—Fury, Monroe, Carson, Bucky, Rumlow, Rumlow, Rumlow—and she couldn't ever get it to stop. She only paused it sometimes. But it never stopped.

"Anybody remember when I carried a nuke through a wormhole?" Lizzie stopped again. Her home had been ruined by that. Others were quick to mutter how often Tony referenced the events. "Recall that? A hostile alien army came charging through a hole in space. We're standing three hundred feet below it. We're the Avengers. We can bust arms dealers all the live long day, but, that up there? That's...that's the end game. How were you guys planning on beating that?"

Steve didn't miss a beat. "Together." 

"We'll lose," Tony said placidly. 

"Then we'll do that together, too." 

───○☆ ✸ ☆○───

𝟎𝟑 𝐌𝐀𝐘 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟓

Lizzie stood on the balcony of the Avengers Tower, breathing the morning air through her nose and trying to pretend like everything was okay when it absolutely was not. Steve was the one to notice her standing out there, not having left from the night before, but now without Sharon. She went into work, reporting what happened to the CIA so that they could put out surveillance on the scepter. When he opened the sliding door to greet her out there, he noticed the way she flinched, trying to conceal it by turning around slightly and pushing her forearms up off the railing.

Steve wasn't stupid. As much as he would like to convince himself his MJ wasn't growing up on him, she was. The last year had been a lot of repairing and patchwork between the two of them after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, and trying not to hurt anymore when he agreed to train her. She'd grown up a lot. Maturity wise, she was quicker in her remarks and slower in her attitude. Her baby face had gone away and left behind the features of a young woman, and he could already hear the panic in his mind about when she would start dating—Mike, her father, had already warned him of that. They agreed to tag team. 

But there were other things Steve couldn't protect her from. Like when they would go on their morning runs in one of the parks in Brooklyn, and there would be a loud sound of a car stalling and she would jump. Steve still reacted badly to the same things. They both struggled with the PTSD in different ways, him from a war left behind and her from a war only just begun. He couldn't protect her from that. He couldn't protect her from the nightmares of Rumlow and Monroe. He could be there for her, but it wasn't the same. Especially when she tried so hard to convince him that she was fine. 

"Soph is coming to pick you up. Sammy threw up. Apparently he doesn't like peas."

Lizzie smiled slightly at the mention of her little brother and nodded, glancing down at her hands anxiously and playing with a few of the bracelets she'd stacked together. Steve walked over to stand next to her, leaning up against the railing with his forearms and taking a good look at the beautiful scenery of Manhattan. It wasn't Brooklyn, but it felt more like home than Washington had. The Carters were always nice enough to welcome him to their places in Brooklyn like he was one of their own.

"You guys are going to go on another mission, aren't you? To stop Ultron?" she asked quietly, not managing to meet his eyes as she watched the multitudes of taxis stopping and going down below.

Steve brought his stare over to the side of her profile. "We're figuring it out." 

"You always do...just be careful, please," she finally met his eyes, and he noticed the worry reflecting in them. "The way that thing was talking...he said extinction, Steve...and if he has access to all of these horrible things—" 

"I'll be alright, MJ. We all will be," he promised, pushing up and leaning on one side so that he was facing her completely, his brows furrowing. Lizzie was always an easy read for him, but sometimes she even had him stuck. "What's going on in that head of yours?" 

Lizzie let out a sigh and went to rub at her eyes, exhausted and wishing that she could just down a bottle of Melatonin and sleep, but not even that worked. She'd go back home to her parents' place and babysit Sammy while they slept because she didn't sleep. Then, she'd go back to school on Monday and start her day all over again until summer break came around and she finally got to play summer ball. Then, she started high school. Freshman year was next—and she was terrified. 

"I just feel like I'm constantly moving—like I'm going, and going, and going—and I can't...I don't know...I can't picture myself doing what you and the others do every single day. I try to, but then crazy stuff like this happens and...that seems insane to me. It scares me for you. Because while you guys are constantly saving everyone else, who's gonna worry about you?" she admitted, picking at a loose thread on her matching blue bracelet with Casey. "I just worry." 

Steve pursed his lips together and stood up to his full height, bringing her in for a hug. Lizzie instantly folded into his embrace, pressing her cheek up against his chest and clinging on tightly to the back of his shirt. While he had never been one for affection until he met her, she had always been in constant need of it—the older she got, and the more she went through, Lizzie noticed how she always had to be touching someone in some way. It eased the anxiety. So Steve pressing his lips to the top of her head and rocking her slightly in his warm, safe hold made the pressure in her chest simmer. 

"You gotta stop worrying about me so much," he muttered against the top of her head. 

Lizzie scoffed against his chest. "You first." 

They stayed there for a while longer until Agent Hill came out to grab a hold of Steve just as Lizzie received a text message from her mom, letting her know she was waiting downstairs. So she separated from Steve reluctantly, the two of them going their separate ways for the time being, him going off to save the day and her going off to live her normal life. Besides, it wouldn't be too long before she was doing the same thing—she had to bask in the normalcy while it lasted. 

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Author's Note:

Long ole baby here. I was going to separate this and then decided not to. I hope you enjoyed it! Unfortunately Lizzie didn't fit in too many places with Ultron, but there was no way she wouldn't be at that party, so of course I had to write her in. Let me know what you thought! We're finally seeing her interaction with other Avengers. I love her and Thor. 

Now, here's the fun part. I'm making playlists for Lizzie (well, I've been making playlists for her and this story). I need your help! What are some songs you think Lizzie would like OR songs that remind you of Lizzie? 

For instance: 

Home by Livingston reminds me of Lizzie. 

Lizzie loves the songs Killer Queen by Queen and Jailhouse Rock by Elvis.  

Just Friends by Jonas Brothers reminds me of Lizzie & Peter (when we get there).

Family Tree by Caylee Hammack reminds me of the Carter's. 

YOUR TURN.   

Leave your songs here: 

As always, let me know what you think of this chapter!