Hello once again! I know the story is a bit tumultuous now with the whole lovey-dovey, but it is all leading up to the climax! Just keep working through these angsty chapters and I promise the real action is soon to come.

Lucy could smell the stench of burning flesh. It was a familiar smell to her, one that would be permanently etched into her senses due to The Accident. It burned the inside of her nose and made the bile in her stomach rise into her throat, burning. She could feel the heat from the fire along with the odor of metal burning. Her sight was clouded with dark swirls of smoke. The smoke burned her eyes, tears forming at the corner of her eyes. Her lungs burned with every inhale and her chest was constricted by something that lay heavy on her chest.

Lucy felt around her, solid ground surrounding her body. She touched what she thought was a splintered piece of wood that lay on her chest. With a push, she tried to lift the large weight on her shoulders. She found it to be much heavier than she thought. She pushed and lifted again until she felt a relief. Slowly, she stood up. She ran her hands over her entire body and found nothing was missing.

Lucy choked on the smoke and instinctively dropped to her knees. She covered her face with her sleeve and made her way over what seemed to be a pile of something. She felt her leg bump into something soft, and looked down.

A man with crystal blue eyes, wide open, stared right at her. His mouth was agape, blood flowing from a large gash in his head. Lucy noticed he was bleeding both from his nose and ears as well. Lucy jumped backwards and landed on something else – a woman, not much older than herself, dead as well.

She felt the vomit fill her mouth. She hunched over and gagged. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve and shut her eyes closed as she crawled until she felt light hit her eyelids. Hesitantly, she reopened her eyes and looked around.

The New York City she had known so well was a dismantled mess. Buildings that used to stand proudly, looming over her, remained in a crumpled mess. Cracks in the street ran down as far as Lucy could see. Apartments burned, people screamed for mercy.

Lucy stood up and felt her head spin. There were so many people that needed her help that she didn't know where to start. Shadows crept around her, children cried for their mothers.

"Little bird, I thought I told you to stay far away."

Lucy whipped around and swayed a bit, losing her footing. Will stood in front of her, all six feet three inches of him, unharmed. She didn't like the look on his face – a proud, selfish smirk. Not a single scratch marred the gold armor and that set of horns sat self-important as ever.

"And now look at you. You're bleeding and all scratched up like the rest of them," he sneered. He wrapped an arm around her and led her down the street. "Come, I've been looking all over for you,"

Lucy dragged her feet and resisted another step.

"Where are we going?" she asked, wiggling under his grip. He glowered at her with a righteous smile.

"Home of course," he chuckled. Lucy looked up at him with a look of confusion.

Home? Where was home? The entire city was left to ruins.

"But these people, they need my help," Lucy told him, breaking free of his grasp. "We've got to save them!" she said in a hurried voice.

"Oh no Lucy. It's time to leave this place for a while," Will instructed her. Lucy felt herself being tugged back, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't resist. She squirmed and fought for her freedom. She didn't like this version of Will. He was arrogant and cold, power hungry and self righteous. She wanted back the Will that held her tightly and kissed her tenderly.

"Lucy!"

That voice. She had heard that voice so many times throughout her life. She knew it better that her own, cherished it more than anything.

And there he was, standing right in front of her. He was standing, but barely. Blood was pouring down his face and stained his favorite white hoodie. He looked just as she knew him to look. The same golden blonde hair swept off his handsome face. Two dark brown eyes kinder than a doe's.

Max. He was here, right in front of her.

"Max!" Lucy screamed. Her voice felt raw and broken and she fought viciously to get away from Will. She scratched, bit, and flung her limbs all over. She felt her fist connect to skin and continued to fight. She needed to get to Max. She needed to save him. She couldn't let him go again.

With a simple swipe of Will's hand, she watched Max fall to his knees and collapse onto the ground. She saw the blood spread throughout the crackled street.

"Come dear, we must depart."

Lucy shot up from her bed, her entire body drenched in sweat. Vomit stained her pillowcase and she was pretty sure the warmth in her bed wasn't just from her body heat. Lucy, disgusted with herself, got out of her bed. She peeled off her pants and shirt along with her bed sheets. She threw all of them in the washing machine and took a cold shower.

It had been a while since she had a dream like that. The last one she had was about Will, and that had been months ago. She thought she was over that schtick…

Lucy turned off the water and dried herself off. She changed into clean clothes and sunk to the bathroom floor. She pressed her cheek against the cold tile and closed her eyes.

Every bit of the dream seemed so real. She could still smell the carnage, see the blood, feel the panic. The only thing that struck her as impossible was Max, but that could just be her subconscious.

After all, it all happened exactly nine years ago to the day. Lucy cringed at the thought that another year had passed right before her.

Lucy pushed herself up from the floor. If that dream had even an ounce of truth, something terrible was going to happen soon. And it all somehow involved Will. Part of her knew that she couldn't have a normal relationship with Will. That there would always been something in the way of conventional happiness. But she had accepted those terms when she kissed him.

Lucy left the bathroom. She removed the phone from the wall, locked the door, shut the blinds, and turned off her cell phone. She pulled her last piece of canvas from the closet and set it down on the easel. She paced the floor for a while, thinking. She thought about Max. She thought about Will. She thought about her dream.

And then, she began to paint.

Loki bowed to his benefactor. This wasn't a trip he had planned. No, he had be summoned to Titan for something he had done wrong.

"You've spent enough time toying with that mortal girl," his benefactor scolded him. "I didn't promise you an army to protect your little empath."

Loki stood from his kneeling position, but kept his head bowed. Although he hated to admit it, his benefactor was far too powerful to combat in his current state. Perhaps with the Tesseract and Lucy, he stood a chance. But at that moment, he was a sitting duck.

"You will commence the plan in eight days. If you do no, I will see to it that your little mortal is no longer a distraction."

Loki bowed his head and departed without argument. He had known his time with Lucy was limited, but not to eight Midgardian days. He recalled that Lucy's art exhibit was in five days and the panic began to weigh on him a bit more. He needed more time with her. He didn't want to destroy everything she knew just yet.

He wanted to know every inch of her skin like the back of his hand. He wanted to kiss every part of her. He wanted to commit the exact color of her eyes to memory, so that every time he closed his, all he saw was hers, shining in the dark. He wanted to count the freckles on her nose and watch her paint once more. There were so many things left undone he knew he could never attend to. He yearned for those moments by the fire where it seemed everything had stopped. Every region of the universe ceased to exist. All that lived and breathed was them and that was all that mattered.

He began to think back when this desire for Lucy began. He recalled the first time he had watched her paint, but he knew it was far before that. He felt the connection when he first met her in the middle of the street. He felt the attraction when he came to her rescue from the speeding truck.

It seemed as though he always cared for her.

His biggest regret was not that he pursued her. Although it made everything so terribly difficult, he couldn't imagine not being with her. No, he regretted far more the time he had wasted not caring for her. He wished to take back every moment he spent loathing her and instead, love her.

Love he thought curiously. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

Why had it been so hard to see that Lucy was much more than an outlet of power? She was kind, compassionate, and talented. He could scathe her with remarks and yet she would still give him the benefit of the doubt. He had originally thought this was moronic – that she simply didn't understand he was being cruel. He was starting to understand that was no longer a bad thing.

Despite his attraction for Lucy, he still had a job to do. Midgard was still overrun with filth and corruption. Mortals that roamed the planet needed to be ruled. They were born needing leadership from a wiser being. And he was just the worthy one to do it.

Loki still needed to annihilate those foolish Avengers as well. And now that he had Lucy's devotion, he knew he could set her on that task. It would be rather simple for her to do. All he had to do was lead her in the right direction, right under his hand. She would look quite nice next to him on the throne. She would make an excellent queen with her superior talents.

Loki grinned at the very thought of them together, reigning over the miserable mortals. Under his rule, war would cease and famine would end. He would make a beautiful world for Lucy to wake up to every morning.

Loki returned to Midgard in urgency. He felt the need to see Lucy and enjoy her presence. He dialed her number on the ridiculous piece of technology, but found she did not answer. After repeat calls, he concluded she was not picking up.

Loki rang her buzzer several times to find her refusing to answer. Frustrated, he returned to his apartment. He began to pace, a panic rising.

Had she found out something? He never did find out how she had painted him in Asgardian clothing. Could it be that his little bird was betraying him?

"Damn it all," Loki muttered.

Angrily, he stormed into his apartment and began to think a bit more.

Lucy must be completely dependable at all times. And yet, she was refusing to answer. Had it been a fluke, or was she truly avoiding him? No, something was wrong with Lucy.

Loki didn't like where this was leading.

Lucy cringed every time she heard the subtle buzz of the doorbell.

She knew it was Will, but she could not bear to answer. Today was her day to spend absorbed in her own misery. She wanted to spend the gloomy day finishing the last painting for the art exhibit. It was only five days away and she was beginning to feel overwhelmingly anxious. Would she make enough money to save Max? Or would she come up short, and be forced to pull the plug…

Also, she could not shake the horror of her dream. It was almost as though the real Will and the dream Will were melding together in her mind.

Lucy chewed her lip until she tasted blood. She would have to call him first thing tomorrow and apologize about her absence. She had promised herself long ago she would help Will, regardless of the consequences. If having terrible nightmares was one of them, so be it.

Lucy also knew she had to figure out if the dream had a grain of truth about it. If something cataclysmic was going to happen, her only hints were in her dreams. Although terrifying, she would have to endure them. She would not let another accident happen to her. She couldn't bear to lose anything else in her life.

With a swift stroke, Lucy added her signature to the last painting and let it dry on the easel. She padded over to the sink and began to clean her brushes. She thought of a million meanings and possibilities behind her twisted dream. Her brain began to swirl with endless possibilities, one more obscure than the next. From a simple breaking up to the end of the world, Lucy had thought of it all.

But in every possibility, it seemed Lucy concluded Will was hiding something major from her. But what could he possibly be lying about? She could not detect any false emotion when he spoke to her, held her, kissed her…no, all those emotions were genuine.

So what was it about Will that her body rejected so much? She had thought it had just been a simple matter of false emotions. Her heart warning her he was playing with her. And yet, she was so certain he cared for her.

Lucy's head swam with confusion. She sat down on the sofa and buried her face in her hands. Never in her life had she felt so misguided.

"And this is why I never dated," Lucy muttered.