Ok! It's finally the weekend! An update, yay! Sorry if plot has been a bit slow; I promise that it'll start to pick up in the next couple chapters. I think I finally have a plan forming. I mean, uh, I've always had a great, succulent plot planned. Totally.

But really. I just want to thank everyone who's been reading, reviewing, and adding this story to their favorites. It means a lot to me. And really, this story has been a lesson to me that, yes, if you just sit down and put your mind to it, you CAN write something. Even if it's not great yet. Thanks for helping me realize that!

[Eternal disclaimer of not owning anything that lasts the rest of this story.]

/

Natasha continued her explanation.

"They deal with unusual national security threats. Ones that haven't ever been experienced or properly identified. I can imagine the energy given off by us being transported here set off their radar."

"So," Sutton dropped her head into her hands and closed her eyes.

Oh, sweet, sweet, sleep.

"They actually do believe I'm part of some terrorist plot. Great."

"Luckily for you," Tony piped in, "you have the cleanest record here besides Capsicle. Not so much as a parking ticket."

That woke her up a little bit.

"Did you dig through my personal records?"

"Just kind of, like, glanced. Thoroughly."

Some anger managed to lick up some of her exhaustion.

"That's none of your business," she snapped.

"Well, maybe not," Bruce cut in levelly. "But you do kind of have our lives plastered, well, everywhere."

It wasn't the same! It didn't- it didn't count. They couldn't hold her responsible for knowing things about them when last week it hadn't been considered...prying. There were some things about her that she'd rather keep under wraps if she could. If it wasn't too late already.

"You wrecked my toaster," she whined back. "I had just gotten the settings perfect and everything."

"So we're even," Tony concluded. "And speaking of your late toaster, I present to you, dessert."

And with a flourish that rivaled Vanna White, he gestured to his odd little creation and grinned widely. Sutton just stared at it blankly before her eyes floated back up to him.

"What is it?"

What was it indeed. It wasn't even that big, maybe the size of a large apple. And very, very homemade looking. Like, maybe Tony from fourth grade had made this. She could identify different bits of her toaster, some wiring, but other parts had her wondering where'd he'd secured them. She would have to do a thorough inventory of her electronics tomorrow.

"It's progress," Tony declared.

"With my toaster?"

Tony waved her off.

"We needed the heating coils and your house isn't exactly well equipped for genius work."

"What does it do," Sutton reiterated. And it looked like this was the devices first reveal, because everyone who wasn't Tony or Bruce leaned forward in their seat.

"Well, not much right now, admittedly."

"It's kind of...a prototype," Bruce offered. "We think that since there's so much that's identical about our universes, there may be a commonality that we can quantify. If we can do that, then maybe we can isolate the differences and reorder them."

It was quiet. Sutton had no idea what he was talking about. At all. The words swirled around her brain as she tied to grasp the meaning behind them. They had been in English, she was sure. She knew what they all meant by themselves.

Just...what?

She either said that out loud or her face spoke for her because Tony jumped in to dumb it down for everyone.

"What the Big Guy is saying, is that we think that maybe we all occupy the same earth, just on different frequencies."

It was quiet a moment longer.

"Like a radio," Steve chimed in.

Ah, Steve. Adorable little radio missing, Steve.

"More or less," Tony agreed. "And if we can find out our different frequencies, we can realign them correctly."

"And that is what the franken-toaster is for?"

It did not look like a radio wave identifier-thing to Sutton. It looked more like a potentially explosive mini motherboard.
Bruce smiled lightly at the name and reached down to tweak with one of the wires.

"Actually, assuming our theory is correct, this would be the start of a device that would separate the frequencies and send us back. But it still needs a lot of work."

"A lot."

Tony and Bruce shared a look that spoke of some inside joke, and Sutton let it pass despite hating inside jokes that she wasn't part of.

Ugh. Speaking of jokes.
Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Guess who everyone expects to cook for them?
Guess wh- Oh.

She still hadn't made dinner. Attempting to lift an arm, she watched as it flopped back down next to her after only making it six inches. Nope. Not happening tonight.

"Well, I'm ordering pizza," she said suddenly. "Does anyone have any allergies and, or preferences?"

Tony answered the door for the pizza guy. In his Ironman suit. Because why not, what could possibly happen, and I'm bored let me mess with someone. It was one of the single most greatest things Sutton had ever witnessed. She was glad she was awake for it. The look on that kid's face when he had come toe-to-toe with the gold and red was priceless. He'd stopped reading over the ridiculous order in monotone and almost choked and dropped the pizza. Sutton had sworn that his eyes would be pushed from their sockets. After the boy had gapped a bit like a mute, hungry bird, he had broke into the hugest grin and proclaimed,

"Dude! You are freaking legit! You just made my whole night!"

"Yeah, I get that a lot."

The kid had laughed at that before telling them the costume was so ridiculously awesome that he didn't even need a tip.

But he still took it, of course.

Sutton had shut the door on him before he could see the others, or start asking questions about how they'd made the suit to look so real.

Everyone was relatively quiet as they ate their fill. Although Thor did loudly announce that he liked this Midgardian pi-zha, before grabbing another slice. Thankfully, he didn't cram it into her carpet.

Sutton was not entirely proud of herself. But for once, she was thankful that everyone was ignoring her as she snuck a roll of tin foil in with her to bed. She was desperate, ok? And part of her just really, really wanted to see if it would actually work.

Sutton Regan: Myth buster.

It wasn't sad. It was for science!

She quickly threw on her pajamas and crudely fashioned a bowl of a hat before shoving it on her head and collapsing onto her air mattress. It felt really good just to have her eyes closed. And to pretend she was alone. And that the government wasn't watching her for acts of terrorism.

But it didn't last long.

Just as she'd fall asleep, for maybe a few minutes, she'd be awoken. The nightmares hit her a bit harder this time, more relentless. There was a bit more to them now; the color red and bursts of intense heat. By two in the morning she'd angrily balled up the tin foil and flung it across the bathroom.

Myth: busted.

And she did try to just fall back asleep. She tried telling herself to just sleep through the nightmare, as if she had any control over it. But to no avail.

The lack of sleep had her so angry that she had half a mind to go into her roommate's room and punch Loki square in the face. What had she ever done to him! Luckily, she still had half a brain telling her that would be a very poor decision to make. She felt like crying from frustration. But the crying only made her eyes hotter and that much more miserable.

Instead she just sat in the corner of her tub bed, balled up in her blankets and a daze.

By six am, she knew that she wasn't going to work. Jen would definitely know something was up if Sutton just stared uselessly at her monitor all day. So she crawled out of the bathtub, stumbled to the door, and dragged herself over to one of her cordless phones to call in sick.

It spoke of her exhaustion that she only noticed the three figures after she'd already hung up the phone. Tony and Bruce were paused over paperwork staring at her. Tony had a towel draped around his neck as if he were preparing for a shower. Probably for after she left, she realized. Clint was perched on her counter top on the other side of the kitchen. One leg dangled off the edge and swung easily, lightly tapping at the cabinets below.

"Small Fry?"

Sutton rubbed at her eyes and tried to blink widely as if that would wake her up.

"Hey, guys."

Bruce stepped around the counter and approached her. Sutton suddenly remembered that she'd come out here straight from bed. She was still in her pajamas. She was not wearing a bra. Luckily, she hadn't been able to detangle herself from one of the blankets, and she pulled it up over her shoulders and tightened it there. Leaning down to be her height, Bruce examined her eyes and quickly felt her forehead.

"You don't have a fever," he said.

Was he even that kind of a doctor? What was he, the illness police?

Sutton stepped back and turned her head to the side.

"Just having a bit of trouble falling asleep," she said gently. "The, um, mattress probably needs more air in it."

The quiet thudding that Clint's leg had been making on her cupboards stopped.

"You have several tells, when you're lying," Clint commented quietly. She felt a shiver down her spine. It was kind of eerie. Him sitting in the dim kitchen, arms casually crossed, ominous voice. "You can't maintain any eye contact, for one."

Sutton made sure to face him.

"I'm not lying. Look at me. I'm not sure what other signs of sleep deprivation I can give!"

"Oh. So, it is the mattress. I'm sorry."

Sutton looked away again. Realization poked at her, and she quickly tried to turn back to him, but he was already smiling grimly.

She just wanted to collapse on the floor, wrapped up like a sad little burrito, and not wake up until tomorrow. Or until she got hungry. She wanted a happy Disney movie marathon with snacks and her best friend from sixth grade, Lorie McDonald, who laughed like the world was always a happy place.

"What are you not telling us, Small Fry? You weren't that attached to your toaster, were you?"

Sutton smiled slightly.

"The death of my favorite toaster will haunt me forever. What are you working on now?"

And she wanted to think maybe Tony was just oblivious and couldn't read her facial cues; but he settled her with a look, tilted his head in a barely recognizable nod, and shuffled the paperwork in front of him. Perhaps he was already suffering from nightmares too. Or maybe he just related to that desperate look of needing to change the subject.

Bruce adjusted to the abrupt flow of the conversation like water, but Sutton could still feel Clint's hard gaze studying her.

It really wasn't a big deal. They didn't need to know. She was just tired. That was it. She'd been tired before.

"Well, we're still working on the math for all this wonky science," Tony said suddenly animated. "Katniss over here just wanted to be part of the slumber party. He was supposed to supply the snacks, but he's claiming Thoreal ate them all."

Sutton rubbed in face in exasperation while Clint's facial expression never changed.

"Ok, how much of this is authentically from you, and how much is from tumblr?"

Tony shifted his head from side to side and made a face that said 'eh, maybe a little bit'.

"You guys have got to stop looking yourselves up on the internet. That can't be healthy."

"Too late for that."

"It's definitely...enlightening," Bruce commented.

"The Avengers...fandom, has serious mental issues," Clint said dryly.

"Agreed," Sutton sighed. "But all fandoms usually do."

Her legs were like jelly now. She needed to sit down, just for a second. After excusing herself and giving them all a nod, she shuffled back into the living room and dropped herself on one of the couches. It smelled like a guy's aftershave. With her head resting over the top, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Her spine relaxed from the top down, and then she finally fell asleep.

Sutton woke back up around noon. Everyone was awake and about. She flushed immediately upon noticing she was still sprawled across the couch and improperly dressed.

Oh gosh, she probably slept with her mouth open and drooled and made weird noises and now they knew!

It felt like when you stay over at a friends house and then wake up to find the entire family making breakfast in the kitchen and then they're condescendingly cooing,

'Well good morning, sleepy head.'

While it was still eight o'clock. Because they were obviously the 'Leave It to Beaver' family, and you were the weird kid they let come over.
Not that that had ever happened to her before or anything.

She scurried from the couch to her empty room for clothes and then a quick shower before anyone could really study her hair that was blatantly trying to defy gravity. And she was showered and ready for the day in only seventeen minutes. Most assuredly a new record for her. Although, to be fair, she'd skipped out shaving her legs for a pair of jeans.

The sleep and the shower combined really did wonders for her; she almost felt like herself pre-Avengers. Except a bit more self conscious. But it was nice to have actual, breathing people in her house. It made her feel social.

And then they had to go and ruin the happy feelings the moment she entered the kitchen for some lunch.

"Was there any particular reason for the tin foil in the bathroom? Just asking, because none of us brought it in with us to shower. Unless Thor was touching up his highlights."

Sutton whipped around to find herself alone in the kitchen with Tony. Where had everyone gone off to? She craned her head around to peer around him and could see a few people in the living room, seemingly deaf to the conversation.

"Not really," she said dismissively. But she could feel the heat rising from her neck to her forehead. There was no way she would ever tell them what the tin foil was for. She'd never live it down.

Tony gave her a look and hopped up to sit on her counter in the most relaxed position possible. What would her roommate do if she told her Tony Stark's butt had graced their counter top? Probably gasp, fan herself, and the lysol it off. If there was one thing that Victoria was, it was clean. Actually, she'd probably get a bigger reaction from telling her that Hawkeye's butt had been on their counter. Victoria always claimed that Jeremy Renner was her 'old man crush'.

"Ah-huh," Tony continued. "What's up, kid? You were just dead on the couch for about five hours. We were making bets on how much we could stack on top of you before you woke up."

"Did they send you in here alone to try and disarm me with your wit and charm, so I'd feel more comfortable and 'fess up to you?"

"Ah-ha! So you do have something to confess. My interrogative charms are obviously irresistible."

Sutton rolled her eyes.

"Why do you all care so much about my sleep habits? You've known me for, like, three days."

Tony shrugged.

"Because we're superheroes. It's our job. And I also really want to know why you snuck tin foil in the bathroom. It strikes me as very 'Signs'-ish."

He could not know how close to the truth that actually was. Sutton forced herself to laugh.

"I'm afraid you'll have to get used to disappointment."

And she was saved from anything else because her house phone started to ring and she darted to answer it. The number was definitely out of state, and Sutton answered it suddenly cautious of the bill that could be racked up.

"Hello?"

"Sutton! Oh, you're actually home! I was just going to leave a message."

"Called in sick today," she explained. "How's Australia?"

"Fantastic! You would love it!"

Sutton tried very hard not to sound bitter.

"I'm sure I would have."

"Maybe we can come back together some time," Vicki suggested. Even though it was plain that would never happen. "But anyway. I was just calling to see how you were doing. You're not just staying in the house by yourself all the time, right?"

Sutton rolled her eyes. She was not as socially retarded as Vicki liked to think. She had friends and family. She had just been too...busy these last couple days to think about calling them. A thought came to her and she grinned mischievously to herself.

"Nope. Actually," she sauntered into the living room and flopped down next to Clint. Payback time in the form of a fake joke. Well, kind of. It was as close as she'd ever get.

"I'm sitting here with Jeremy Renner, so I'm quite content."

"Get off the computer, dork, and go outside."

"No really, he's sitting on the couch right next to me."

"Ah-huh."

"Want to say hi?"

Clint was shooting her unappreciative glances from next to her. Sutton just grinned innocently at him.

"Sutton, if you actually had Jeremy Renner on your couch you know I would fly back home just to murder you."

She really wanted him to say something on the phone now.

/

Okie-day! Once again, I promise more exciting (exciting?) things will be happening soon. Scout's honor. (P.S. I was never a scout).

Like, maybe Sutton makes a dumb mistake and just because the two government agents aren't there doesn't mean she's safe. Or something. I haven't written it yet.

Reviews and constructive criticism are very much welcome! I promise I've been practicing being open to helpful suggestions. I will not break.

And bless you all for not pinning me with all the continuity errors I've noticed. I'm going to go back and fix them sometime. Because I'm obsessive and it makes me crazy. I'm seriously making a calendar for this story and trying to figure out dates and everything.

But anyway, hope you all have a fan-tas-ic day!