Disclaimer: Just Alice is mine, everything else belongs to Marvel Entertainment.

Chapter One

Falling is one of the worst feelings. I guess, technically it's the sudden realization that you're suspended in midair and, depending on where you fell from, that your landing isn't going to be pleasant, rather than just the feeling of falling.

They should make adult-sized cribs a thing.

Although…I'm pretty sure those did exist, and were torture devices way back when.

I groan as I attempt to sit up, only to be pulled back down by the tangled mess of sheets and comforters—why the hell do I sleep with all of these?

Christ, I have been awake for two minutes and I've already given up on today. Between getting tangled in sheets and waking up with a strange, buzzing sort of headache, I think I deserve to just lie here for the next…eternity, or so.

However, I shot up at a sudden beeping noise, and thanks to the corner of my duvet that somehow got caught under my foot, I fell back down and hit my head off of the floor. Of course the only part of me unprotected by soft, cushiony blankets is my head. Ow.

"My aunt needs to warn me before she lets you into the loft," I say to the intruder.

"She's not home, I used the key above the doorframe," Gage replies. "And I am a concerned friend, I was just checking on you. You did that all by yourself."

I carefully untangle myself from the cotton and polyester mess that I created and walk over to my closet in search of clean clothes. Gage decides to wait until I'm completely ready, with school books in my arms, before releasing this very important tidbit of information:

"You're aware that it's almost four, right?" He asks. "You slept through the school day."

I pause. "You're kidding right?"

"Dead serious," he replies, pointing at the digital clock on my desk. The display reads 3:51pm. Well, then. It looks like I screwed up.

"What the hell?" was all I could think to say. "I slept the entire day away!"

"I don't blame you," Gage shrugs. "After the night you had?"

"What night? I crashed early last night, watching The Twilight Zone for like the hundredth time," I respond.

"You were probably hallucinating," Gage says. I frown, as he continues with: "Never mix ecstasy and alcohol, Alice. That's like, common sense."

"Hey, I've been clean since the New Year's fiasco." I reply. "I haven't even smoked Lainey's birthday gift. That's mostly because my aunt found it and made brownies, but hey, I did not eat a single one."

"Come on, Alice, lying won't help. Lainey called me for help after some insane acid trip that led her to believe you turned to stone and got zapped halfway across Manhattan. I found you passed out in Union Square and had to get you home safe at four in the morning."

"I think I would remember that happening, Gage, and I don't, so…" I clearly remember last night…Or I don't…Hold on…Yeah, no, I don't. I had some crazy vivid dreams that I don't remember, but I'm about 97% sure that I fell asleep before I found out what was in that strangely shaped box… There's no way I was involved in any of Lainey's intoxicated, late night shenanigans.

"If you say so, but I know what I saw and what I did," says Gage. "Now, put down those books. Jace got this gig at some café in Brooklyn, he wants us to see."

I oblige, but not without a slight complaint. "It better not be a jazz bar again. Hell, that last place didn't even count as a jazz bar, it was basically a Michael Bublé memorial café."

"You know Michael Bublé isn't dead, right?"

Before I can shut the loft door behind us, Gage spots my phone on the console table and hands it to me. I'm about to thank him when I notice something is way off about my phone.

"No!" I shout, jerking my hand back. Gage jumps back as I slam the door and drops my phone down the stairs. The corner of the screen shatters, but I suppose that's what I get for having an iPhone and for that sin that is supposed to be protecting it.

"That wasn't my fault," says Gage, raising his arms up in mock surrender. However, I'm less upset about the screen and more upset about the case. It's not damaged in the slightest, but it's…okay, maybe I'm overreacting, but…you know what, no, I am not overreacting because this is disgusting and I must know who is responsible for this.

"WHO DID THIS?!" I shout, pointing at the phone case that I most certainly did not buy.

"You did?" says Gage. "When you failed to take it."

"Not the screen, Gage. What kind of sick and twisted prick would replace my beautiful custom Captain America phone case with this ninety-nine cent store Batman one?"

Gage looks at me for a long time, furrowing his eyebrows then frowning. "Okay, you need to calm down. First of all, it's a phone case. It's not like someone replaced your car with a single flat tire. Second, what the hell is Captain America, and what makes him so much better than Batman? Sounds like some kind of a revamped, hipster Uncle Sam."

My jaw drops. Did he really just say what I think he said? I really hope not.

"You did not just—you can't be—you're joking. You're totally joking. There is no way any friend of mine doesn't know who Captain America is."

"Alice…do you need to see your shrink?"

My jaw clenches as I continue, "I do not need to see a shrink right now, Gage. I—hmph. I am about to go full blown geek here, so you better admit that you're joking before that happens."

Gage sighs, frustrated, "Alice, just pick up your damn phone and drop this, all right? You can tell me who Captain America is on the way if it calms you down. Fuck, I don't understand what could possibly have you so worked up."

"…?!"

oOoOoOo

"…and then, realizing there was no other choice, he crashed the Valkyrie into the Arctic, saving the world from the Red Skull. Everyone thought he died, but seventy years later, he's found by Russian scientists and taken to a SHIELD base—I explained SHIELD, right? The whole counter terrorism and intelligence agency—"

"Okay!" Gage suddenly cuts in. "Pause. Enough. Yes, you explained SHIELD. Enough. Please."

Gage makes us stop just as we reach Times Square, much to my dismay. I always hated this place. I never understood the hype; it's a total tourist trap. It's all just skyscrapers and giant flashy billboards.

Anyways, back to Gage being difficult. "I still have no idea what you're talking about," he says, "Captain America, SHIELD—is this like some new nerd thing? Extreme patriotism and cliché big-brother shit?"

"Excuse me?"

"Is it like some hipster crap from Dark Horse or is DC running out of ideas—this is what I was asking for! Not backstories and plotlines—I want to know the reason you seem to have gone batshit! Like, fuck, this is fiction, Alice! It's not shit that sparks riots, it…"

I can't quite hear Gage anymore. I'm too angry to listen, or even just to care to, because—

"DID YOU JUST CONFUSE CAPTAIN AMERICA FOR A DC CHARACTER?!"

People have stopped dead in their tracks to stare at me, the girl making a scene out of a miscommunication on nerd culture. I don't care, they can gape all they want, because I'm far too irritated to care. If Gage didn't want this, he shouldn't have pushed the idea of Captain America being obscure, non-existent, or A DC CHARACTER. NO. THAT IS WRONG AND WARRANTS PUNISHMENT IN SOME FORM.

"CAPTAIN AMERICA IS A MARVEL CHARACTER YOU UNCULTURED SWINE!"

"Jesus f—will you take it down a damn notch, Alice!" Gage hisses. "Are you on something right now?"

I have to take deep breaths before I can even think to continue. How could he suddenly be so clueless? I never shut up about Marvel! Just last week, I dragged him and the rest of our friends all the way to L.A. just to see the premiere of the Avengers at the El Capitan theater. And it's not like I'm physically angered by Gage's cluelessness, I'm just annoyed. He's being irritatingly persistent here, and it's not even a good prank, considering he has the biggest crush on Chris Evans.

"Alice, you're starting to freak me out," says Gage. "Why, why are you so worked up about this?"

I am one more ridiculous question away from screaming. The only thing really stopping me is the top of a building a few blocks away.

"Oh my—What? W-When the fuck did that get there?!" I say, in some strange half-shout, half-whisper.

Unless that is an ad, or the work of an extremely talented and extremely fast-working artist, a real-life version of Stark Tower has been added to the Manhattan skyline.

Gage quickly turns to see what has me so freaked out, but apparently doesn't seem to register the fact that someone had renovated the MetLife building overnight to recreate Stark-f'ing-Tower.

"That was not there yesterday!" I say. "They couldn't have built that overnight, that's almost impossible. There's no way that even exists—what the hell is going on?"

"…I'm going to tell Jace we can't make it and then I'm going to take you to see your therapist immediately," says Gage. He seems genuinely concerned, but for the wrong reasons. I'm fine, it's the world around me that's decided to screw with me today. "Alice?"

I stutter, trying to find words to go with this predicament, but I'm not even sure what the current predicament is. As I start to formulate a proper response, to both Gage and the situation, I'm cut off. By myself.

"Goddammit—what the—"

In all my confused rage, I fail to see the man running at full speed towards me. Until, of course, he runs into me, knocks me over, and makes me spill half a cup of boiling hot tea over the front of my t-shirt.

Gage immediately moves to help me up like the total mom-friend he tends to be. "Oh, god, are you okay?"

"What kind of question is that?" I half-shriek. Today has not been a good day for me. I glance into the still partially filled cup and start in the direction that that bulldozer of a man went.

"Wait—where are you going?" asks Gage, as he speeds up in an attempt to keep up with me.

"If I have to live with steamed boobs for who knows how long, so does that asshat," I answer. Gage starts to protest, telling me things like I'm "going to get arrested" and that he "forbid[s] me from hanging out with Lainey, she's a terrible influence" and "this is not poetic justice, this is assault, ALICE."

However, upon seeing two very familiar faces, I stop dead in my tracks. "Oh my god—Gage. Gage. Look. Looklooklook. I found the perfect person to show you just who Captain America is."

I smile back at Gage, only to find that he suddenly looks extremely concerned, maybe even a little afraid. "Um, Alice? Remember when I said I had to track you down last night? We also had to avoid those guys, minus the cute blond. And they were not easily avoided."

I laugh. "What does that mean?"

"Still being dead serious," says Gage. "We thought they were narcs, but then Lainey and I overheard some of the things they said—I'll explain later, you might actually want to stay after you hear this; come on, let's just go."

"They're actors, Gage. They're just re-enacting the end of a film. Ooh, I wonder why. Wait. Oh my god, I almost—oops."

I continue to ignore Gage nagging me to leave as I internally debate whether or not it would be appropriate to ask Chris Evans and Samuel L Jackson for autographs, considering the re-enactment isn't being filmed, but they still seemed to be in character and doing something important. Then I notice that some of the SHIELD agent extras are staring at me, along with a few civilians in the background, despite the fact that I'm not the only pedestrian that stopped to watch the seemingly random exhibition.

This little detail is enough to scare me to an extent, so when Gage grabs my arm and hurriedly drags me away from the scene, I don't resist.

Today took a turn for the weird and not so fun. Between one of my best friends trying to convince me that Marvel doesn't exist, seeing Stark Tower in person (in structure?), and Chris Evans giving me—ow—possible first degree burns, I think that I can safely say today has been the strangest day of my entire existence.

oOo