Thank you to the talented CleverWalnut for designing the cover for this story! It's just amazing!

A/N: Honestly, this was what my other story Fires without some Fallout was originally going to be. I wasn't happy with how that version was going so I've changed it to this. It will be my first attempt at writing a pairing (Peter/OC) but I think it's gonna go alright. As you may have noticed if you've read any of my other stories, I much prefer to explore father/daughter relationships when writing.

This chapter is mainly centred around Adara and who she is as a person. She's French by the way and often the language will slip into her English without realising, so sorry if the translations are a bit dodgy. I'm usually able to pick out the obvious mistakes that google translate makes (I take GCSE French) but please feel free to correct me if I screw up.

Peter Parker (not yet Spiderman) appears in this story in chapter 7!

Peter Parker/OC (slow burn)

Mom! Natasha Romanoff

Dad! Steve Rogers

(PART ONE: Chapter 1-10)= Set-up (centred around Adara, a little bit of non-bitten Peter, Natasha and Steve)

(PART TWO: Chapter 11-17)= Age of Ultron arc

(PART THREE: Chapter 18-38)= Spiderman origin story arc (some Hydra thrown in there too for good luck)

(PART FOUR: Chapter 39-47)= Civil War arc

(PART FIVE: Chapter 48-65)= Spiderman Homecoming arc

(PART SIX: Chapter 66-73)= 'Abbadon' arc

(PART SEVEN: Chapter 74-92)= 'Adara' arc

(PART EIGHT: Chapter 93-97)= Infinity War arc

(PART NINE: Chapter 98-108)= Endgame arc

(PART TEN: Chapter 109-119) = Far From Home arc

(PART ELEVEN: Chapter 120-139) = The 'Bluebell' arc (aka, the final arc)

(EPILOGUE: Chapter 140-141) = a Two-Parter finale!

EDIT!

I now have a playlist for this story! If you want to search it up on youtube it's titled HIPS playlist (by youtube user- Accidentally Amazing and contains songs that have been used as lyrics for the start of the story, but also just songs that suit it in general. A lot of them are very much my taste in music, but any recommendations of songs you think would match works too! Ideally, listen to it whilst reading!

playlist?list=PLwhITb_blv7I5tcnW5o-OAxS1_4U35X6-

on a side note, for those who perhaps are further into the story and also maybe love vines, why don't you check out the other videos I made for this story:

Part One: watch?v=qZc7ly3rf5I

Part Two: watch?v=vQmzC3aB0Lk

EDIT!

This story is now complete. For any new readers, prepare yourself for a long one, as well as some questionable decisions made by the characters and the author for the first 40 or so chapters. Please just stick with it, I swear it gets better!

PART ONE: AN END HAS A START

You came on your own, that's how you'll leave

With hope in your hands and air to breathe

You'll lose everything by the end

Still my broken limbs you find time to mend

"Maman!" The little girl yelled in French, "Papa!"

The girl, who could be no older than six, used her elbows to drag herself through the dust that filled the air. She was trapped underneath the floorboards of the house, crawling towards where she had last seen her parents. Her face was caked with grime, tears and dirt. Her short, dark hair twisted and tangled, sticking up in all kinds of places.

When the dust cleared, she could see there lifeless bodies drenched, dead eyes staring at the wooden planks where the bullets that had pierced their chests had created small holes, allowing in the murky light of dusk to peer through.

The girl had sat beside the bodies, crying and crying and crying until her chest hurt and she could make no more sounds or shed any more tears. She shook them over and over, her hands slowly becoming more and more soaked in the blood.

"Réveille-toi, maman," she stared into her mother's unseeing eyes.

A shadow of a man blocked the light.

"Grab her," he said.

She was pulled away from her parents by strong arms, who easily tugged her off of the bodies. She screamed, she cried, but it was pointless. She was only six.

She was plunged into the thick snow, on her hands and knees, the men having little care about how cold she felt. The snow reached buried her hands and legs, so she was left vulnerable and shivering. She looked up, squinting from the setting sun's reflection on the white powder. She was surrounded by men with guns, all pointed at her. The obvious leader towered over them all, though he did not hold a weapon.

"Adara Thomas," said the man, looking down at her, "My name is General Luka, of SHIELD or HYDRA, whichever you prefer." He then frowned, "I presume you have no idea what I'm saying."

The fear in Adara's vivid green eyes only seemed to increase as he said the words, the confusion on her face was obvious and was attempting to get to her feet. A man standing behind her kicked her so she was back on her knees.

"Meurtre!" She screeched at him.

Luka gave her a sly grin, which then turned into a frown. "Tu feras ce que je dis."

Adara's expression turned to confusion to disgust, "non!"

He crouched down and looked at her, but didn't seem to be angry at her refusal. In fact, he tilted his head, almost amused.

"I would apologise for my abhorrent French," he said, "but you wouldn't understand what I was saying. You don't understand what I'm saying now."

She attempted to scramble away from him, but he grabbed her wrist, his grip like steel on the skinny girl.

"But one day, Adara, you will understand. You'll understand all of this. I never wanted it to come to this, but your mother left me with no choice. They don't understand how important HYDRA really is, but you will, I'm sure."

Obviously having no understanding of what he was saying, Adara was still attempting to pull her wrist away, the six-year-old seemed revolted by him.

"HYDRA has need of you, as does the rest of the world," he stood up, dragging her up with him, "do as I say, Adara, and the world will hail."

Adara woke with a start, her arm moving in front of her face defensively without her even realising she was doing it. At the same time, she banged her head on the roof above her head. She cursed her stupidity and glanced at her watch, five thirty in the morning, but she wasn't particularly keen on going back to sleep.

She sat upright on the top of the bunk bed, the room around her silent, aside from the soft snoring of the other girls also in her room. She sighed, letting herself calm down.

There were probably around five other people sleeping in the same room with her, each around a year or two younger than her. The room had six chests of drawers, each one identical, cheap and easily breakable. Adara didn't have many belongings anyway and what she did own she kept on her at all times, she didn't want anything falling into the wrong hands.

She ran a hand through her black hair; it was messy and tangled, that was going to be a pain to deal with. She couldn't imagine the rest of herself looked better. Her vivid green eyes that contrasted greatly with her tanned skin tone were red, bloodshot and tired. She groaned, pushing her hair back so it was out of her face.

Realising there was no way she was going back to sleep, Adara fished under her bed for the torch and a notepad along with a pen. She turned the flashlight on and flicked through the notepad, the majority of pages filled up with neat writing in black ink.

Day 365

September 19th, 2014

Today marks exactly one year since I escaped, and now I've been stuck in this crappy foster home for ten months. I suppose this place is better than HYDRA will ever be; at least no one beats the crap out of me if I talk back. Then again, at least HYDRA never made me wash the dishes.

Being honest, I'm surprised that HYDRA hasn't managed to find me by now. There's only so many orphans named Adara in America. It's probably because of what happened in D.C. with Captain America. HYDRA probably isn't as strong as they used to be after that. I know they're rebuilding though. 'Cut off one head and two more shall take its place.'

I don't know what would happen when if they find me.

If Luka finds me-

"Adara!" A voice made her look up.

She glanced down, a girl, Adara was sure her name was Catherine, from the bottom bunk of the bed beside her was glaring up at her.

"What?" She asked, glaring, her French accent slipping into her tone ever-so-slightly.

"Turn the light off," she said, "some of us are trying to sleep."

"You do realise that to sleep, you have to close your eyes," sneered Adara, "last time I checked, you can't see with your eyes closed."

"Yeah, well you rustling that paper is causing a lot of noise."

"Your voice is louder than my rustling."

"Whatever, Adara, you're just rude. I'm only asking you turn your light off."

"Shut up, Cathy," mumbled another girl sleepily from another bed, "I'm trying to sleep."

Adara smirked back at Catherine who huffed in annoyance, before pulling the blankets over her and turning over, so her back was facing Adara. The girl rolled her eyes and turned back to the notebook, before realising she had nothing left to write.

With a sigh, she put her notebook away and got out a different book, still unwilling to fall back asleep.

"And you are sure it is him?" Asked Adara, poking her head round the corner, "I don't want to accidentally steal from some random guy."

"Random guy?" Snorted James, "Look at him, Adara, he's a white man in a fancy business suit. Have some faith in me!"

"I don't have faith in anyone," she said bitterly, eying the man up, "what does he have?"

"A lot of money in that wallet."

They were right in the heart of Queens, watching a rich blonde man talk business with an equally important looking man whilst sipping a cup of coffee in an elegant cafe across a busy street from their hiding spot in an alleyway. He had a metal briefcase beside him, which made Adara's eyes narrow in interest.

"What do you think is in the briefcase?" She asked.

James rolled his eyes, "I don't know everything about him, probably the codes to some nuclear weapons or something."

She sighed, turning back to him, "what's the plan then?"

"You distract him, I'll grab the wallet."

"And what do you want me to be?"

James frowned, humming in thought. "Try a mid-twenties blondie, big tits too."

"Blonde? Ugh, fine."

Adara closed her eyes and James watched in fascination as Adara miraculously grew a few inches taller, her skin became lighter, her hair turned blonde and her chest became larger. When she opened her eyes, she was a completely different person. Apart from the eyes, of course, she could never change her eye colour. She grimaced as her clothing, which involved a plain white t-shirt and leggings, suddenly felt a little tight.

"That will never not be cool," said James shaking his head, "you've gotta tell me how you get those powers."

Adara, who now looked like she could be James' mom, shook her head, "in your dreams. Okay, he's getting up, I'll move in. Pass me the phone."

James did so, passing her a broken Stark Phone. She nodded back at him and began to move towards the target. As she entered the hectic street, the man stood up, shaking hands and saying his last farewell to the other businessman. She did her best to pout out her lips into a frown and look down at the broken phone, wandering seamlessly until…

"Ow," grunted the blonde businessman as Adara walked straight into him. He dropped the much more expensive phone he had been holding in his hand.

"Oh my God!" She exclaimed in the best stupid American accent she could, "I am so sorry."

She bent down to pick up the phone, not missing the way he glanced down at her breasts if only he knew that she was actually just a thirteen-year-old shape-shifter.

"It's okay," he said, smirking slightly as she handed back his phone.

The overwhelming arrogance within him almost made her visibly cringe in disgust, but she did her best to hide it as she rabbited on. "I'm so clumsy!" She exclaimed, "my phone broke just randomly and I was trying to get it to turn back on but it wasn't. And I know it didn't run out of battery because it was seventy-five percent."

"Here, let me have a look," he said, and she handed him the phone.

Behind him, Adara spotted James walking down the street as if it were no one's business as to what he was up to. Though the man seemed to sense someone walking up behind him, so Adara quickly went on talking again.

"What do you think?" She said, now straining to keep up the American accent, which was especially difficult considering her natural accent was a French one.

His attention focused back on her, "well, it's definitely an older model, I'm surprised it's lasted this long."

James slipped behind him, swiftly but quietly snatching the wallet from his pocket and walking off, nodding to Adara who gave away no sign that she saw him.

"Do you think I can get it fixed?" She hurried the conversation along.

"You'd probably be better to get it upgraded," he said, handing her the phone back, "go check it out at the repair shop, see what they have to say."

"Okay! Thank you!" She smiled at him, "and sorry for bumping into you."

"That's okay," he eyed her up, "you never told me your name."

"Tiffany," she lied before hurrying away before he could ask more questions.

Once she was sure she lost him, she stepped back into the alleyway and relaxed, transforming back into her normal body.

"You Americans have a terrible accent," scoffed Adara to James when he reappeared with the wallet, "all you do is talk, tout le temps, it's annoying."

"Yeah, yeah," James said, "but we got the money."

"How much is there?" She peered at the leather wallet curiously.

He opened it and grinned, "man is obviously a bit dodgy, there are several credit cards in here along with many, many fifty dollar bills. That's more than enough for booze and cigarettes."

Adara wrinkled her nose, "just get the alcohol, I don't want to kill mes poumons by smoking cigarettes."

"Either way we're sorted for two months," he grinned, "oh, crap, he's coming over."

"Who?" Adara looked up to see the rich blonde man, obviously looking for the girl he had been talking to, probably having noticed that his wallet was missing.

"Hey," he said, looking vaguely confused, "I thought I saw a blonde girl walk in here… have you seen anyone?"

Adara gestured for James to keep silent and frowned, "lo siento, no hablo inglés."

He looked at the two of them for a second before sighing and walking off, "never mind…"

"What was that?" James asked once he had left.

"Spanish, people get scared when others can't understand them."

"I thought you hated that language."

"No, that's German," she told him as though it were obvious, "I hate that almost as much as I hate Russian."

"Then why do you waste your time trying to learn all the languages?" Asked James, exasperated.

"Because I've got nothing else to do," Adara glanced at her watch, "we need to head back anyway. Madame Lillian will kill us if we're late back. We can buy beer tomorrow."

The two nodded and began to head back. When social services had found Adara living on the streets of Manhattan, they had quickly taken her in an placed her under the foster care system. But she was far too old for anyone to even be interested in her, not to mention the home was underfunded, so that meant crappy living conditions. Adara knew it was better than what she had before, so she rarely complained.

The issue was James. He was the first person that had gone out of his way to talk to Adara, but that was only because he had accidentally caught her shape-shifting. They had struck up a deal. If James kept his mouth shut about the power, she would help him steal. Adara had little remorse to those who she stole from, mainly because she would usually be able to drink alcohol in return.

Queens wasn't exactly the worst place to live, but it wasn't exactly sunshine and roses either, especially when it came to the underground businesses. The past ten months of Adara's life had been avoiding cops, stealing, testing out drugs before deciding to never for them only to then try them again and drinking her problems away.

As they walked back into the foster home, a lot of the kids were crowded around the television, watching a news report.

"Brock Rumlow, former leader of SHIELD's strike team and exposed HYDRA agent, who had been badly injured from falling rubble after the fight at the Triskelion in D.C awoke from his coma earlier this morning," said the blonde news anchor on tv.

Adara stopped in her tracks, examining the picture of Rumlow on screen.

"However, despite being in a coma for several months after being knocked out early last April, Rumlow was still able to knock out his nurse and escape his hospital room. An investigation is now underway."

Adara frowned deeply, thinking about Rumlow. She knew him, of course. She had been one of her many tormentors during her time with HYDRA. He was never quite as prominent in her life as people like Wolfgang Von Strucker and General Luka were, but he was sometimes there. News of Rumlow's escape and the likeliness that he would be able to go running back to the remnants of HYDRA without any repercussions disgusted Adara.

"You okay?" Asked James, noticing she had become distracted.

"Je veux tuer l'homme à la télévision," she said honestly before switching back to English, "yeah, I'm fine, just thinking."

"I can't believe that whole this with Captain America at the Triskelion was only five months ago, feels much longer than that."

"Maybe," she shrugged, unwilling to push the subject any further, "we should probably go check on Madame Lillian, she'll probably want to know that we're back."

A few hours later

Avengers Tower

"Any updates?" Asked Steve Rogers as he walked into the room.

Natasha Romanoff shook her head, "nothing. Rumlow has vanished completely, of the radar, no sign of him at all."

"He had outside help," mused Steve.

"He had outside help," agreed Natasha, "from HYDRA, obviously."

"And to think there was a chance he might have helped us located the sceptre." He shook his head, sitting down on one of the many sofas there was to find in the main living space in Avengers Tower. "We've still got nothing."

"We have JARVIS going through the encrypted HYDRA files, but they're almost impossible to decode, so don't expect much from that."

Steve sighed heavily, leaning back into the cushions of the sofa and rubbing his forehead, deep in thought.

Natasha glanced cautiously at the fellow Avenger, "We'll find Barnes, Steve, the world is only so large."

"All this searching just seems pointless," said Steve with a sigh, "we've got no further with the sceptre, HYDRA or Bucky."

"Despite what they want you to think, HYDRA will mess up sooner or later."

"Yeah, well I'm just sort of hoping it's the 'sooner' part, rather than later."

"Well-"

But the red-headed assassin was cut off by Tony Stark dramatically entering the room. He was sipping a shot of whiskey and sat down. "I think I've got you something you might like, Cap," he said, tossing something into Steve's hands.

He looked at them, frowning. They were printed off photos of around five to six men walking down the streets, the image looking like one taken by a security camera outside a shop. They didn't look like much more than low-life thugs, so Steve was confused. He handed it over to Natasha, who analysed the image with a lot more scrutiny than he had.

"I don't understand," Steve said, "how is that supposed to help us?"

"Well, I know its no Bucky Barnes, but each of these people are criminals and are wanted for associating with illegal activity with HYDRA. They managed to run off at the battle at the Triskelion, figured that they'd probably gone into hiding. But, they were caught on security cameras near this building only ten minutes ago, presumably heading to Queens."

"Why? What do think is gonna happen when they waltz back in here?" Natasha asked scornfully.

"Well, as far as these smarties are concerned, no one else knows that they're here. They don't even know that we managed to get these images of them."

"Any idea of what they're doing in New York?" Asked Steve.

"None at all," Tony shook his head, "but they've come in a large group, it wouldn't be a massive leap of faith to say that they're planning on something big."

"How do we track them down?"

"I can get JARVIS to scan all footage in the area, from that we can follow them until they get to wherever they're going."

Steve frowned, leaning back slightly. "There's not enough of them, it's too suspicious. If they were planning on committing some terrorist act, it doesn't feel quite right."

"Maybe they're after something," Natasha said suddenly, "you said they were heading to Queens, right?"

Tony nodded.

"Well, maybe there's something or someone there."

"But what?" Steve wandered.

"Yeah," Agreed Tony, his face dismissive, "it's only Queens. The most exciting that's ever come out of there is Garfunkel."

"Maybe they're planning on stealing something?" Steve said more to himself than anyone else, "but what?"

"How about we get off our asses and go find out for ourselves," The billionaire stood up, "we're the Avengers, aren't we? Let's suit up."

A/N: I feel like this was kind of shit first chapter but this has been rewritten so many times and I've been trying to do this for several days now. This is the most decent version so far, so I'm gonna stick with it.

By the way, if any of you want to know what Adara looks like, she's the girl in the cover image of this story (which is actually just a picture of teenage Angelina Jolie who has somehow always managed to look perfect even when she was younger).