Sorry for such a late post! Just not enough hours in the day! Here's an update for you guys and once again, thanks reviewers! Here's your shout outs from the last chapter:

Cara Tala: Hope you like this chapter! I think Fury was just trying to be cautious in a shady way? I'm not sure how I want to write his character but it seemed fitting for that to be his first impression for the story. Kind of like a recoiled sense of kindness because he did try to explain the situation and give help to Lorena.

LLPottle : Thanks a bunch! Hopefully this chapter will be even better!

MidnightShadow07: I'm sure that will happen eventually, it's a really big thing I want to emphasize on Lorena a lot, but not so much that it'll become redundant and annoying. It's all about finding the balance. This chapter boils over a bit, and you'll see why.

Kakashi Forever: You'll know it when you see it! And you're welcome, I'm glad you took an interest in my story. It's nice to communicate with others in this community.

Onward to the next chapter! I tried fleshing it out a lot more than what I had previously done but unfortunately this is a short chapter. Well, shorter than usual anyway. I'll try again to double post tonight/tomorrow morning (U.S. Central) however I'm a poor starving and crazy busy college student so patience is greatly appreciated.

Uprising: Part II

"Lorena? Hey it's Andrea, from your criminology class? Listen I'm kinda down on my luck for this week's test and my friends and I would really need your help since you did so well on the last one. Anyways, give me a call at…"

I just let the messages continue as I threw my backpack and hoodie on the couch and made my way to the kitchen to see what was in the fridge to drink. I decided that some scotch would be good for the night, considering what my day had been. It was one of those autumn Texas days where the morning was cool, midday was hot, and there was a ridiculous wind chill in the evenings. Needless to say it was either sweat, or freeze while waiting for the bus to arrive and take me home. I chose to sweat.

"Anyways, hope to hear from you! We all really want to pass this class. Call me!" Beep!

I gave the answering machine a huff and a puff as I sat on the couch and set my scotch down and began taking off my tan, shin high suede boots. I just finished an intensive eight page essay on how I would conduct a case study on college students and anxiety when test taking. It was a hypothetical paper, I honestly wouldn't conduct such a study because that's not really a topic I wanted to research on but hey, beggars can't be choosers when it comes to ideas for a lengthy paper. I knocked it out as fast as I could and emailed it to my professor for a quick revise, the entire time I kept telling myself that this would only be the beginning and if I could get through these first couple of years, I'd be writing papers about topics I honestly cared about.

"And away you go." I said as I pressed the "Delete" button on the machine. Honestly, the nerve of that girl. She knew I was smart and that I had already completed the review for the test. She only wanted to be my friend for her benefit, and as soon as she was done with me I'd be in the dark again. It's how it always was with pretty girl types like her. At school, I was constantly the outcast, almost as if someone stamped a label on me that said "Hazard." You'd think stereotypes like that would just fade away after high school but life doesn't work like that it seemed. I was the quirky, dressed differently, nerd girl that was being summoned by the Playboy Girl herself in her time of need. It was really annoying but I guess it could be worse. I could be on the opposite end of their affection. Instead of needing help, they could be the ones giving me reason to need it, more on the medical side than intellectual.

It started all the way back when I was young. I've had many calls and parent-teacher conferences about it since I could remember. It would be the same story, I was a great student, answered all the questions right, polite, conversable, a delight for any teacher to have around, however I just couldn't connect with kids my own age. My mother blamed it on her not being able to provide another child because of medical reasons, but she did what she could. She would put me in play dates with the other stay at home moms in the area. But that didn't work so well when most of them were better off than us. Mom didn't want that kind of a passive-aggressive life for my childhood and she certainly wasn't the type of person to showboat even if we were wealthy, so she played with me by herself. She's one of the main people who taught me to imagine. I remember vaguely a cardboard box that we'd decorate into some kind of prop almost daily for our adventures. My stuffed animals would be personifications of my imaginary friends and mom would be the narrator or (usually) the voice of reason when the adventure went too astray. When I started school I guess I was so lost in my own world of make-believe that I didn't really want to come back out from that cardboard box and make real friends. I guess that's my main reason for wanting to study psychology.

I wasn't sure which specification of psychology I wanted to get into for my masters; I figured it would be a lot about kids and outside the home influences. However a lot of my decisions right now with my psychology career being influenced by my Criminology class at the moment. I figured that part of it was my good natured, community caring cop dad who was my bright light in all the muck of my life. Ever since I decided to move out of the house last year, he would bring his squad car around my block just to make sure I was safe. He even got the neighborhood watch to give him a shift or two when the usual officer around here needed some off days. Mom was equally as protective, but in her own motherly way. She made sure I had locks on all the doors and a speed dial set in case of emergencies on my land line. On top of that, I received almost daily calls from her. It seemed overbearing sometimes, but I do love my parents, and they just want to see me succeed.

"Hey Lorena! It's mom!" Speak of the devil… not really.

"Just calling to see how you were doing sweetie! I just got your letter from the Daughters of the Republic; they decided to give you some more funds for your scholarship than we thought! So you don't have to worry about your rent for another month or so. Your dad went by and shut the windows for you again. You need to be more careful since you're all by yourself! Anywho, I'll see you this weekend? Your father and I want to go take family pictures at the patch again this year. Call me so we can meet for breakfast before we go, love you!" Beep!

I looked at the answering machine again, and downed the rest of my drink before pressing the 'Delete' button. It was nice knowing my parents were so loving to me, and it was really nice that I'm getting more from my sponsors. Things were tough, but I swore that I wouldn't be a burden on my parents. I worked on campus as well as a part-time job plus all my scholarships and one small loan. I guess while I was so focused on my school and being independent, I guess I felt… lonely? I'd never really had feelings of loneliness before, not even in high school cause all I did was study and read. Now that I'm on my own and by the time I get home I was too exhausted to do anything but relax and let my mind wonder to real problems. I guess the anchor to my cardboard box ship finally reached the bottom.

The bottom kind of sucked to be honest.

Ring! Ring! Ring!

I looked at the phone and checked the caller I. D. It was the last person I wanted to hear from. I let the phone keep ringing until the answering machine picked up the call.

"Hi, you've reached Lorena Day's home phone. I'm not here right now so please leave a message after the tone." Beep!

"Uh, Hey Lorena? It's Andrea again. Listen, we uh, we're going to go meet up at the Starbucks next to school so if you want to meet us there that would be awesome. Please give me a call to let me know if you're coming or not. Bye." Beep!

Beep... beep... beep... beep...

I groaned and started to feel an ache in my lower back and legs. I moved and started to move my eyes but there was a blinding light keeping them from opening. I blinked several times before I was able to glare at the source of the brightness.

That's when I noticed.

There was a different ceiling.

I sat up quickly; looking at the new surroundings which were mostly off white walls and fake plants, I moved my hands to get up but noticed one was handcuffed to the gurney. Of course it wasn't a dream. Of course I was still in this hell, and of course they'd keep me locked up. I looked out of my corner of my eye and saw a black figure. I turned to focus on it when the red hair suddenly came into view. Her jade green eyes struck an irritable string in me. Why was she going out of her way to make my demise all that more miserable? I groaned and scowled at her before lying back on my bed and closing my eyes again before reopening them. I looked around a bit more to see the holographic screens and expensive technology to know where I was taken. It seemed that I was moved into a medical rehabilitation center that was built into the notorious Stark Tower.

"You've been out for quite a while." Scarlett addressed me.

"Seems that I haven't woken up yet." I shifted uncomfortably in my bed, no thanks to the cuffs. "Scarlett." I replied. She shifted herself and stood, briskly walking over to the counter where she was rummaging around where I couldn't see.

"I don't know why you keep calling me that name. I can only assume that is my doppelganger from your world." She rummaged more and it was making me uncomfortable. "We'd like to know more about it and about you, since we can't find your records." She turned around and presented herself holding a tray of food. She walked over to the side of the gurney and placed the tray in front of me.

"We're only trying to help." Scarlett commented. I could see through her act. She maybe a super spy, but she's one of the famous comic book Avengers. I can call her bluffs like I can tell you the sky is blue. I felt something stir in me right then. I could feel my sanity breaking while I looked into her fake, inviting eyes and I saw it. I saw the emotionless, heartless mission to get me to just submit to these crazy crack pots and tell them any information about me. Probably to laugh at the torture they are forcing me to go through. I thought I literally heard the crack of me just going completely batshit crazy before I made my next move as I smiled at her.

I threw the tray full of food right up in the general direction of Scarlett. She covered her face as I swung my leg and kicked her full on in the stomach, knocking her back into the counter area where she was uncovering my food. I laughed out loud. This was just too great, wasn't it? Being locked up in a fictional world with a movie star who thinks she's really the assassin she thinks she is? I could just laugh. I was laughing. I was laughing so hard I didn't realize that the star was up and moving towards me. I tried swinging but my laughing just wouldn't stop. I was defenseless until she dragged me back on the bed, that's where I gave her a really hard time.

"You're going to make me sleep again?" I screamed, kicked, squirmed, anything to make it difficult.

"Can't deal with me huh Scarlett? Where's that assassin training now huh?" Words were just spilling out of my mouth. "You can't control me! You can't force me to submit to you! Fuck you!" By this time, I wasn't sure if I was all there. I could hear myself grunt, laugh, bark almost… It was… I was insane.

That's when I felt the prick of the needle and my eyes growing heavy again.

FxL

I hadn't seen Robert Downey Jr. yet, but a part of me didn't want to get sucked in more to this nightmare than I already was. Scarlett visited me every day, tried to get me to eat. I would throw the food tray at her, take needles out of my arm and purposefully ruin monitors. It came to the point where I was strapped to the bed most of the day. At night, Paul Bettany aka "JARVIS", Stark's notorious computer sidekick would enable sound proof technology in my room so I could yell, scream and sob my vocal chords dry. I just couldn't believe I was literally alone in the world. I missed my family, I missed Eric. I just missed. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact I wouldn't see anyone I ever knew ever again. Even if I was able to find them, they wouldn't know me, they wouldn't recognize me, and I wouldn't even know how to introduce myself. If I had seen my parents, with different people, different kids, I couldn't handle that. I wouldn't be able to hold it in. I would just die.

I wanted to die.

However a strong emotion of survival and hope wouldn't let me be. I had to find my family, they we're the only ones that would put this stupid charade to an end. Sam and Scarlett wanted me to think there was no hope, maybe a plot to get me to submit to whatever crazed plan they had for me. I convinced myself that they were batshit crazy. Possibly doing this kind of shit to get some feeling in their soulless hearts cause millions of dollars didn't satisfy them anymore. It's not like the victims could say anything, they we're Hollywood famous actors, it's everyone's favorite characters against some nobody. So I had to play this game. I had to get a plan to get to a phone, to call my mother. I called her constantly; she'd know something was wrong if I didn't call her for at least a week. I needed a plan to get me out of the restraints. Something that was solid.

So I sat and thought.

First I needed to get out of the restraints, which meant I had to be nice to Scarlett. So the following days I would have to allow her to spoon feed me, being hesitant at first, to make sure she didn't notice I was up to anything. She would probably be very skeptical, but my acting skills would be solid enough I think. I knew she would notice if anything was gone from my plate so stealing silverware was out of the question. I let my mind wonder. I noticed the times I was allowed to go the bathroom that there wasn't any cameras in there, and the cameras inside my room didn't really get a good angle inside. So that was a possible lead. I just needed to get out of these damn handcuffs...

The next day, Scarlett came in and I didn't do my usual grunt and growl. It made her very suspicious. She looked at me with weary eyes as she set my tray of food down on the counter space, turning to me before attending to the food.

"You're not going to fight me today are you?" She spoke to me. I had to make my moves very precisely for this to work. I had to make it believable that I was done misbehaving and having a mental breakdown. So I just glared at her and recoiled to a sitting position, my knees to my chest and my arms at the right side of my bed, thanks to both of my hands being cuffed to the railing. Scarlett turned away from me and began to cover the food and set up to attempt to feed me.

"What changed?" She asked. "You couldn't have done this overnight." I glared at her again when she looked over her shoulder to made eye contact. I turned my face away, muttering a good "Fuck you" to keep up the rebel act.

"Guess you didn't change then; just being quiet today." She sighed. I could hear the disappointment in her voice a little. I guess it's working. She turned with a bowl and spoon in her hand and sat by my bedside.

"Will you eat today?" I looked at the food, then looked at her and scowled. She looked down at the food, stirring the oatmeal. "Look, I know it's hard. You wanna be tough and strong. But we both know that this isn't easy for you. You missed your family." Family… How dare she.

I looked at her and I felt tears pricking at my eyes, I did miss my family but I wouldn't let her think she was getting to me… Or maybe…

I let the tears fall as I stared her down, then I looked away in what I could muster up in shame.

"I dreamt of them last night." I choked out.

"You want to go back to them." She responded. I think she was falling for it. The tears may have been real, but not what she thought was the meaning behind them. I just had to keep up the charade long enough to see what I could do in the bathroom. Only then will the ceiling fall down on her little Mother Theresa angle.

"More than ever."

"Then you have to let us help you Lorena." She touched my hand and I jumped at the touch. Her grip tightened, to what I figure was her reassuring me. I moved away slightly, and she backed off. We looked at each other and I searched her face. Then I saw it. She fell for it. I swallowed hard to stop myself from smiling.

"Looks like I don't have a choice." I responded with a fake, sad, smirk and looked at the oatmeal. "Now can I eat please?"

Alrighty Fanfiction Nation! Make sure you clickity clack that follow button and leave a review! And with that, my name is JanFL, you've just been updated and I will see you next time!