The Mimic (HE/HIM VERSION)

8

The end to the night was a slow one. Y/n tried his hardest to stay involved in what the team were up to, desperate for a distraction. He didn't want to be reminded of his 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 him 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 his thoughts. He had his own room now, it was nothing special, but he was still grateful. Y/n hated getting ready for bed, the darkness mixed with the deafening silence was far too much. His scrambled mind ran free, and with this new memory he knew it was going to be even worse tonight. But, he pushed on through, there was nothing else he could do. He didn't want to disturb anyone. He 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. He dreaded falling asleep. He dreaded the nightmares to come. Every night since he got his mind back, he'd have at least one nightmare. Sleeping was more like torture at this point, but nothing seemed to help, he just had to endure them.

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

Y/n was back as a child, curled up on the floor of the destroyed apartment. His ears were ringing terribly from the loud explosions, and the air was thick with heavy smoke. The little boy had cuts and bruises all over him, crying hard into his bear. He couldn't stop the bombs, his mother and father were dead. All he had was his bear.

Y/n felt a hand tapping his back, causing him to flinch a little out of fear. He didn't think there was anyone else around. The little boy slowly lifted his head up, his whole body aching from the explosion. His eyes adjusted to the smoky haze in the room quite quickly, wanting to see who'd tapped him 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, bud. 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 his face as she shook his head. Too in shock to form any words, but he kept a tight grip on his bear. The man continued to hold his hand out, offering it for him 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 boy. "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 he 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. His home was destroyed. There was nothing left. The strangers seemed to be laying out a pair of his shoes beside where his mother and father once were. One came up to the little boy, holding a hand out to take the bear. Y/n shook his head quickly in refusal, but the man in the suit tugged at his arm to get his attention. "You need to give him the bear, y/n. Or otherwise they might catch you." He cooed. Y/n hesitated, giving his bear one last squeeze as he continued to cry. Of course he didn't want to get caught, but his bear was all that he had. "I'll come back for you." He whispered quietly to the bear 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. He was in a cold sweat, his pyjamas sticking uncomfortably to his body, but that was the least of his worries. That was the most vivid nightmare he'd had all night. Y/n reached out to turn the lamp on, trying his hardest to regulate his breathing as he processed it all.

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

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