*Disclaimer* I do not own any of characters from the Marvel universe or the names affiliated with it. Characters that are my own creation are quiet obvious.


Chapter One: Rejoining Reality

There was so much confusion. Chaos ensued all around. Everyone was screaming and running in all different directions as the monsters attacked New York City. The Chitauri. Their beady eyes and scaly lizard-like skin stretched across thin faces. Piercing shrieks emitted from their mouths exposing their sharp tongues as they lunged into the restaurant with weapons that resembled high-tech spears.

One of the monsters jabbed his weapon forward slicing into the neck of an old man who only moments ago was sipping coffee and talking idle chat with his wife. Children cried while mothers clutched at them with tightening grips. Men twice the average size scrambled out of the way, running for the doors and stampeding over those not fast enough to get out of the way.

Glass cut at her skin as she tried to move quickly trying to avoid the creatures. The door was so close. Her bleeding hand reached out, her fingers stretched sliding across the glass window. A clawed hand grabbed at her ankle dragging her across the debris and the remaining broken glass that cut at her fragile skin. The creature flipped her over, and pulled her up by the collar of her shirt. It sneered, making a clicking noise with its tongue as it brought her face toward its own.

The dirt-stained tears rolled down her cheeks. Her thick lips trembled as her heart pounded wildly against her chest. The smell of rotten flesh filled her nose as the Chitauri breathed into her face. Its victim swallowed hard as she closed her eyes ready to face the imminent death would follow.

There was a crash and a giant shield came slamming into the back of the creature. The Chitauri released his grasp of his prey and hissed as it spun around to face its attacker. A muscular man comically dressed in a spandex suit of blue and white stood tall. He pointed at the monster and smiled. The Chitauri lunged at the man who leaped over him with ease, landing on its back and flipping into the air so that he landed perfectly on his feet.

Just as the monster started to turn around he slammed his fist into the ground. It was like an earthquake, the tile of the restaurant split apart knocking the Chitauri off its feet. Quickly, the costumed man ran toward the lizard-like creature and brought his curled hand down onto its face denting it into the ground.

He turned toward her and carefully walked forward, kneeling on the ground before her. "Miss, are you all right?" She nodded, the tears continued to fall down her face. "I suggest you get to a hospital and have someone look at those cuts."


I opened my eyes, sitting up as the scream latched itself in my throat. My IV infused hand reached up to touch the fading bruise at my eyebrow, wincing at the memory of how I'd gotten it flashed through my mind. Two weeks had passed and the memory was still all too fresh. It haunted my every waking moment; my dreams were far from safe as well.

I leaned back into the hospital bed, looking out the window. New York was back to its bustling ways, acting as though the alien invasion was nothing more than a fluke. Everyone returned to normal, carrying on about their ways. The victims that passed were only memories lost in a battle that was out of control. Nothing that happened those two weeks ago was worth remembering.

But, I remembered. I remembered everything. My memories refused to let me forget. No matter how hard I tried.

One of the nurses came in, beaming as she started to take my vitals. I wanted to yell at her. Are you stupid!? Hundreds upon hundreds of people died not that long ago. All because of an alien attack that the world refuses to acknowledge. Instead, I smiled in return and brought my gaze back to the bustling world outside. It was only a matter of time before I returned to reality as well.

"Looking good," mused the nurse taking her stethoscope out from her ears. She draped it casually around her neck and looked down at her paper work. "Miss Star-" instantly her eyes fled up and her smile grew. "Stark? Any relation to…" before she could finish asking I held my tongue and shook my head. She looked slightly disappointed and patted my knee. "Well, anyhow Miss Stark, I think at this rate we'll be able to let you go home as early as tomorrow. Isn't that exciting?" I nodded, knowing words would fail me. "I'll call your boyfriend and let him know the good news."


The New York City fall air was brisk and sharp against my face. I pulled my coat and scarf up toward my neck and pushed my way through the crowded street. The sharp scent of a nearby hotdog vendor wafted my way mixing with the smog and unwashed body odor of the homeless men that hid in nearby alleys. I pushed forward and made my way to the nearest Starbucks craving for my usual coffee. If I was to get back into the groove of things, coffee was the way to go.

I entered the crowded coffee shop and waited in line. The familiar jazz music that played over the stereo system and the scent of baked goods and java beans eased my nerves. Maybe returning the real world after all wouldn't be as hard as I thought it would be. Once the container was warmly placed in my fingerless gloved hands I smiled in gratitude and pushed my way back out onto the street.

Every where I looked everyone was in a rush. Just like before. I scowled. Perhaps forgetting was the only way to move on from the traumatic experience that had taken place. But, forgetting so soon? What good would that accomplish? Licking my lips in irritation I brought the cup up to my mouth and took a sip forcing myself to enjoy the bittersweet taste.

Bringing the cup back down to a comfortable position I looked up and realized that my feet had stopped in front of the entrance to my job. The Daily Bugle stood taller than most buildings, windows of glass glistening in the deceivingly sunny day. My chest heaved up as I inhaled deeply and took my first step back to my normal life.

The moment my booted foot clambered inside I was instantly jostled. Familiar faces of co-workers greeted me with smiles and nods as I made my way toward the 16th floor. I clenched tightly onto my cooling coffee cup as I stepped inside the elevator, pushing the buttons and sighing at the moment of peace that I would-

"Hold that elevator," said a native New Yorker's slight accent as their large hand pulled the door open with ease.

I jumped out of the way, disappointed that I wasn't going to be alone. The man entered the small space; it felt as though he had taken up the entire area. I moved slightly away, staring up at his muscles that were bulging from his crew-neck tee and khaki pants. His sandy blond hair was swooped in a military fashion and his bright blue eyes shined as he smiled down at me.

I swallowed hard, turning away from him. The ride up the sixteen floors had to be one of the most awkward couple of minutes of my life. Neither of us said anything to one another and I really wasn't in the mood to engage in small talk with a man that looked as though he drank steroids for breakfast. All I wanted was to get to my office and indulge myself in nothing but work to get my mind off of the attacks.

"Don't think about that right now, Paige."

"Excuse me?"

'What?" I looked around as if expecting someone else to be in the elevator with us.

He smiled, two dimples pressed against his cheeks. "You just said something."

"Oh," I breathed, slightly embarrassed. I had to stop accidentally talking to myself.

The elevator dinged and I couldn't get out of the stuffy room fast enough. I practically flung myself out running into one of the interns, Jeffery Bridges. My coffee spilled down my shirt and legs and the papers he was carrying flew in all directions. Face red, I quickly apologized and started to help him collect his things, muttering to myself about what a disaster I was.

"Hey, Paige welcome back." I looked up to see Jessica Song smiling brightly at me with red-stained lips. Her warm, mocha eyes pierced through her fake cat-eyed glassed and I knew business was about to ensue. "Jameson wants to see you. I…uh, suggest you change your shirt before stopping in."

I looked down at the coffee-stained blouse under my blazer and groaned. Jeffery offered me a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry; I got the rest of this." He cocked his head and shrugged "You know how Jameson doesn't like waiting."


I made it in fairly good time to Jameson's office after rushing to my cubicle to toss my stained blouse aside wearing nothing but my undershirt and blazer over the top. I grimaced, knowing it wasn't exactly professional but the thick, long necklace that I wore covered up a good chunk of anything that'd otherwise look shoddy.

Freshly changed, I charged through the offices interweaving my way toward the elevator. A couple of my peers gave me a sympathetic smile and I knew that wasn't good. Jameson didn't call people in to welcome them back after being hospitalized for two weeks, and he didn't call them in to congratulate them or hear their story ideas for the next issue. No. He called them in for usually one thing and 99.9% of the time it was to yell at them.

I swallowed hard, racking my brain for what I might have done wrong. Certainly he wouldn't be mad at my two weeks absence? I'd surely think that being attacked by an alien race and then traumatized would clear that. Who I was kidding? This was John J. Jameson for crying out loud. The guy loved to make his employees squirm.

When I entered the large, open windowed office I felt every nerve in my body tense up. The scent of bourbon and cigars filled the room as a cloud of smoke blew my way. Behind it sat one of New York's most powerful men reading one of his own newspapers. The one man that made anyone a hero, or a villain just with the wave of a hand, a couple of obscenities and an entire paper at his back willing to print whatever he wanted.

He was a fit man-for his older age-dressed in black slacks, an Oxford white long-sleeved shirt and black suspenders resembling a man who lived in the 40's. His hair was styled with many products and one would think that as much as he paid for his haircut and gel that he'd pay to cover the grey that streaked the side of his head. Underneath his toothbrush mustache and sneer was a thick, brown cigar that he puffed at deeply, the smoke filling the room the moment that it cleared.

It took everything in my body to keep from coughing. So, instead I cleared my throat to gather his attention. He looked up at me from behind the most recent Daily Bugle paper and slammed it onto his cherry-wood desk. He looked my nervous state up and down and scoffed.

"You're uh-" he looked down at his desk and then back to me, "Paige Stark?" I nodded and his large eyes flickered between what he had just read and back to me. "Stark? Any relation to Tony Stark? That egotistical multi-billionaire bastard-"

I shook my head no, almost apologetically though I didn't know why. It always grated at me when people learned my last name. The first thing that anyone ever asked was if I was related to Tony Stark. I'd never met the man, and didn't exactly plan on it. My forte of news was a lot smaller than what a pretend philanthropic but actual playboy like Tony Stark was up too.

"That's a damn shame. Thought you could have gotten a real story from him," he said causing me to brush off the burn and try my hardest not to cringe. "Anyways, they say that you're good at crawling your way up. People like you," he eyed me, puffing on his cigar a couple of times, "though I can't see why."

I pretended not to let his rebuttal hurt and reminded myself to get my hair redyed and trimmed as I probably looked like a wreck. Apparently being hospitalized wasn't worth a valid excuse like I thought.

Jameson leaned back in his chair and smiled. "I want you to find out about these mutant, costumed, vigilante freaks. Call themselves The Avengers or some crap like that. Media's been trying to find them; apparently they've fled the city, which serves them right." He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his desk and taking a long drag of his stubby cigar. "You realize they did billions of damage to one section of New York and now the people's taxes have to go into fixing their mess. And, everyone's writing it off as them being heroes."

I thought back to the diner, where the man in the full-bodied blue suit had saved me. He didn't have too. He could have continued on his way but he attacked the Chitauri and made sure that I was okay. I'd say that was heroic enough.

But, Jameson was the only person who actually seemed to care about the attack two weeks ago. Granted, his reasons weren't as noble as my own. I wanted to find out the truth, know what was going to happen from here on out. He wanted to sell newspapers.

"Sir, where would I go about finding who these Avengers are? I mean, you said yourself that they disappeared."

Jameson ashed his cigar and raised a thick, bushy eyebrow. "Do I look like a reporter to you? That's your job. Go investigate, dig and don't come back here without the promise of a story." I stood there awkwardly, wanting to ask more but knew he wouldn't care to answer. "Get going."

I jumped at his order and nearly ran out of his office, slamming the door closed behind me. My chest heaved heavily while I leaned against the wood, collecting my breath. His secretary offered a sympathetic smile as she transferred a phone call into his office. His booming voice about how he didn't care what china set his wife used for dinner that night caused me to jump once more.

Swallowing hard, I forced myself to walk forward and head back to my own floor. I wasn't even at work for an hour and I already wanted to go back home and hide in bed. I so was not ready to handle the real world yet.


A/N: I don't usually dabble in writing fanfics. So, this is the first fanfic that I've decided to write/share thanks to a persistent friend. Hopefully you enjoy it as much as I am writing it. Also, I'd like to point out that because this is fanfic I don't take it quiet as seriously. I try to clean it up as much as I can but I do admit that you may spot some errors (grammatical, spelling, inconsistency, etc). But, I am very busy with school and don't have a lot of time to sit and go through every single detail. I'm pretty much just writing this for fun. Hopefully you don't mind. Thanks!

*Added* Thank you all so much for the kind words and responses. I'm really glad that you are enjoying this story so much. I love writing it and it's kind of gone from just something I pick up when I'm bored to something I want to finish. I love writing the character of Paige and exploring the characters of the Marvel world and I'm grateful that you are willing to take this journey with me. :D