A car alarm in the street becomes a police siren. Angry groans from downstairs are Chitauri hiding somewhere I can't see them, and debris just crashed behind me. I sit up and see that night has faded into early morning. Matt has just slammed the front door in his rush to get to work, the groans are neighbors waking up, and the alarm ceases. I dreamt about fighting the Chitauri while craning my neck to see which building Barton was perched on.
Vince, woken too by the door, turns over on the couch. His shift isn't until later today. I should be out the door too, but the relief crews haven't needed me much lately. Muting the synthetic complaint of the air mattress, I get up and head into the bedroom, closing the door behind me. As usual, Matt's left the bed in complete disarray, sheets tugged free, comforter on the floor, pillows fallen behind the headboard. Picking up the comforter, I climb into bed and tuck myself in.
Around nine Vince comes in and pauses in the doorway before heading into the bathroom. I fall back asleep and don't wake again until I hear him opening and closing the fridge. When I do get up, he's watching television at a low volume and eating something fried. The time over the stove is much later than I'm used to sleeping in.
"There's eggs and toast," he calls.
I find the biggest mug and nearly brim it with coffee.
"We're out of creamer," he adds.
I put the coffee down. "Milk?"
"That too."
I check the fridge just in case, but he says it like it is. "I don't want to drive all the way to the place. I'll just get some from around here."
"Want me to go with you?"
"If you want." A tingle goes up my spine and I kick myself for it.
A pack of kids ambles down the sidewalk ahead of us, bare-legged and bold now that school's out and they've got time to kill. Vince chuckles under his breath as he watches them until they turn a corner and are out of sight.
"Parents shouldn't just let them go like that." I tilt my head to hear if there are any threats down the alley they cut through. "Especially lately."
Vince arches his brow. "When you're a kid trapped in an apartment with that 'lately' kind of stress, all you want is to get out." His arm brushes mine, and I step to the side. "Did you ever hear anything else about your parents?"
"Oh. I kind of let the trail go cold."
"Really? What about the person you were talking to?"
I swallow. "We're no longer…he died in the attack."
Vince turns his head sharply then looks away. The image of that street memorial we stopped at lingers in his memory.
"You want to just get coffee?" I say. "Or, I don't know, something sweet-?"
"What happened to him?" Vince asks.
I'm about to answer when I see that up ahead there's some sort of gathering around a community center. A donation drive for victims of the attack. I take Vince by the arm and jaywalk. He shakes me off before we reach the curb. "Ace, quit."
There's got to be a café or a bodega we can duck into. "Is there any place nearby?"
Vince scratches his brow with his thumb. "Hell if I know. The next two blocks are all boarded up. Look up."
I hear the burst of flight stabilizers high overhead. "I've seen that dog and pony show before."
"What's with you today? Why'd you skip work?"
I put my earbuds in and turn back. "Screw this, I'm going home."
"Hey, hey." Vince puts a hand out. "There's a store down there, see? We'll just grab some creamer and head straight home."
I scowl, but Vince physically turns me around and heads me down the sidewalk. "C'mon. We won't be long."
I keep him between me and the community center as we pass by. If he senses my tension, he doesn't say anything. Once we get to the bodega, Vince looks over his shoulder and hustles me inside.
"Did you see somebody?"
We're the only people here, but the cashier's ignoring us. I head to the back where the refrigerators are and wait until Vince joins me.
"I just didn't want to be seen." I blink off the security camera back here too, having already turned off the one aimed at the door. "They don't carry the creamer we got last time."
"Matt got it last time." Vince points. "Get that one. Tastes the same, but it's cheaper."
I open the fridge and grab a bottle. "I didn't go to work today because SHIELD's already done all the heavy work, and with summer on there's a new influx of volunteers."
Vince nods understandingly. "You think the people at the community center would recognize you?"
I shake my head and grab a carton of milk too.
...
Matt yawns over his laptop. "Madge is back in Iowa."
"Tell her we hope she had fun," I say.
Matt types away at the keyboard. Vince is seated on the floor with his back to the couch texting, and I'm lying on the couch staring at a spider on the ceiling. It's been there a couple days and won't come down. I'm worried about it.
Matt groans under his breath. "I haven't been on a date in weeks. I feel like a spinster."
"The way you talk scares me sometimes." I sit up.
Vince leans his head back. "Matt, you need to settle down, find a girl with unlimited patience, and buy me a Lambo."
"Don't listen to him, Mattie, he doesn't need a Lambo. You are strong, independent young men, and you don't need cars to complete you."
"Bull," says Matt. "There's no such thing as a woman with unlimited patience."
Vince throws a ball of foil chocolate wrapper in the air and catches it. "Ace has been described as patient."
I laugh loudly, and Matt retorts with something I don't quite catch.
"Hey, she's stuck around you this long," Vince throws the foil at me, "and she hasn't murdered you yet."
"There's still time." I pick up the foil ball from where it landed. "He still has to move to England."
"Ugh," Matt groans, "don't remind me."
"Is that all taken care of?" asks Vince.
"Yeah, Dad took care of it, but I can't move in till August."
"Would you like me to help?" I ask.
"Sure, you can help, but he practically hired my roommate. Probably to snitch on me."
I yawn and lie back. "Vinny, I'm taking the couch tonight."
"Mkay." He gets up and heads for the bedroom.
"Still my bed," warns Matt.
"I'm going to brush my teeth, don't flatter yourself." Vince throws another candy wrapper, and it bounces off Matt's shoulder.
I look up from the couch, watching him as he leaves. I stop when I sense Matt looking at me smugly. "Shut up, Larson."
"How long?"
"Doesn't matter."
He returns to staring at the computer screen. "Can I tell him?"
"I said shut up." I get off the couch and crank up the AC. Matt closes his laptop with a smirk.
...
I skip work the next day too. Vince left two hours ago for his six hour shift, and Matt's still at the office. If Vince heard what Matt and I were saying last night, he never let on. He's gotten his telepathy to the point where he'll only hear us if he's paying attention. There's range to factor in too, which means he might've heard what Matt was saying, but not what I was saying. So it's possible he didn't quite get the whole conversation.
This kind of paranoia preoccupies me as I sit alone in the apartment. I turn off the TV. There's nothing to do when the guys are gone. They always have something to do. I consider calling Tony, but he's keeping busy, and the last time I went to see Barton the place was empty.
I go for a walk, this time avoiding the trouble streets with donation boxes and memorials, petitioners and doomsayers. They're out in full force along with a new breed of homeless that make me feel catastrophically guilty for not saving their homes too. Madge would have something positive to say, think, or feel right now, but my head refuses to work like that. I wish it would, be more like Madge. Maybe I would've been Madge if my life hadn't taken a turn early on. Maybe if my parents had been as accepting as hers I would've turned out lovely and sweet too. Of course, her mutation is to miraculously heal people. I just grew claws.
After several blocks, I turn onto a street dotted with restaurants and takeout joints. I ate lunch not long ago, but upon receiving the olfactory cue my stomach starts planning for dinner.
"Hey," shouts a man in a thick accent, "girl with headphones."
I am wearing headphones, so just assume I can't hear you.
I sense someone coming up behind me, but it's a child so I ignore him until he tugs on my shirt.
"You're the lady who save my father and grandmader?" he stammers.
"I- I'm sorry, I don't know what you're-"
The man who yelled jogs up behind him, and with a sinking feeling I recognize him as one of the people I rescued in the attack. Too late to change my face now.
"Come," the man says sternly, "we have dinner."
"No, no, I'm not- I don't know who you think I am, but I'm not them, sorry." I add a sheepish, immature smile with it. A change in personality can be just as effective as a change in face. "I- I have somewhere to be."
The man looks me in the eye and purses his lips. "I am sorry."
"Yeah, no, that's fine." I chuckle.
The boy looks between me and his dad, but the man shakes his head. "Very good woman saved my family in attack. You look just like her."
It's a compliment. "Thank you."
He nods curtly and takes his son by the shoulder, but the boy scrutinizes me as they turn to head back down the sidewalk. Enduring the pain, I change my face at the next corner and head for home.
...
"I didn't know you could do that," Matt states unhelpfully as he hands me the bottle of ibuprophen. "Was it really necessary?"
"You underestimate how much I dislike exposure."
After getting home, I waited an hour for the pain to wear off, double-checking in the bathroom mirror to make sure my face was exactly the same as it was before. It seems that since the last time I did this my body is even less partial to shape-shifting.
This time I take three pills, seeing as my last dose of two was nearly unnoticeable in its ability to reduce pain.
"How many of those have you had?"
"I don't know. I usually take this many, they metabolize too quickly."
"Still, I think you should go easy on them." He watches the bottle as I put it back in the cupboard. "Did Vince say anything about bringing dinner?"
"You didn't eat on the way here?" I smelled chili dogs on his breath when he walked through the door. "You're going to get fat if you keep eating second and third dinners."
"Excuse me, since when is my diet of your concern?"
"I hear him in the hallway, but I don't think he brought anything. That's right, go mope."
"I'm getting in the shower before he does," Matt tugs off his overshirt, "not moping."
"A likely story." I go to answer the door for Vince, then decide against it and head into the kitchen to start dinner.
Vince lets himself in and pops his head around the kitchen archway. "Where's Matt?"
"He's getting in the shower, but you might still catch him."
"Nah," he takes a freezer cake out from behind his back, "got this on my way back, didn't want to share it with greedy guts."
"Ooh, looks fancy but tastes like hydrogenated oils. Gimme."
Vince opens the box on the kitchen island, and leans toward the living room to see if Matt's coming back. "Finish it before he gets out?"
I hand him a fork and sink my own into a corner of cake. "I'm already beating you."
While shoveling cake into his mouth, Vince tells me about his day. He'd apparently just cashed his paycheck at the bank when a couple went in with a Chitauri gun and robbed the place. He was three blocks away buying cake when it happened, so he missed the whole thing. I smack him for nearly being held up, and he coughs on a flake of shredded coconut.
I watch Vince joking and sharing his contraband cake, and recall other people who knew my old names and attitudes; people who I spent some relaxed moments with like that morning we spent eating cereal on the air mattress. Someday Vince is going to be one of those people.
"Ugh, man, I can't eat another bite." Vince holds his stomach. "You finish it."
I clean up the remaining evidence while he washes the forks, then we both take long drinks of water to take the sugary smell off our breath. "If we ate something else it would be less suspicious."
Vince spits water down the drain. "I doubt he'd even notice. I want a salad now."
"I don't know, that meat lover's sub your coworker had sounds good to me right now."
Vince opens the fridge and pulls out the only tomato we have. "You've always been such a carnivore." He looks up and catches me looking. "What?"
"Nothing." I start heading to the living room.
"Ace."
I look back.
"What is it?"'
I stop myself from repeating 'nothing'. He doesn't deserve it. "I knew that after the battle everything would change. It still amazes how true that is."
Vince puts on the face he makes when I have his undivided attention. "What's changed in particular?"
I try to look relaxed by hooking my thumbs in my pockets. "You know Tony almost died? His girlfriend was hugging him and crying, and I just stood there like an idiot 'cause I didn't realize... Tony knew Coulson too- my SHIELD guy- and seemed pretty choked up when he told me what'd happened. Then just the way he hugged Pepper, like he was done taking people for granted."
I scratch the back of my head. "I've been witness to Tony and Pepper's relationship since before they were 'together', and…of the two of us I better understand how little time we have to be with the people we love."
I swallow and lean back against the couch, get nervous, and stand up straight again. "I love you. Not the friendly love that I've thought I have, but the kind Tony and Pepper have."
Vince's expression doesn't change much. "How long?"
"A little after you got back." I keep his gaze, not insulting him by looking away as I would like to.
"And you didn't know that was how you felt or you would've told me sooner."
"You left for California-"
"You mean after I got back from the Brotherhood? Damn. And you didn't recognize until after aliens landed that you felt this way?"
"Vince, you know how much I dislike you being on the other side of the continent, but when the aliens landed I was relieved. I thought, 'Yes, he's nowhere near here, this can't hurt him.' And then I saw all your voicemails, and you came home, and you helped me during that video crisis. The last few weeks have changed everything and I don't know how to change this feeling back. I really care about you." I blink a few times to remind myself I'm not a crier. "You deserve to know that."
Vince presses his lips together and looks at his hands. "You know, I've seen you do like two intense things since I've met you. But I was so scared when I left those voicemails. I was…mad because I wasn't there, and you wanted me to be."
The shower shuts off and we both stand up a little straighter.
"Look," I cross my arms, "I don't want to mess things up between you and Kirsten, I really don't. She's making you happy- and being in California is making you happy- so I'm not suggesting you change anything that's working for you. I just…I've kept too much from people who mattered, and then never got another chance."
Vince sort of smiles, but stops himself. "Does Matt know all this?"
"Matt knows nothing." I glare at the bedroom. "He just thinks he does."
Now he smiles. "Thanks for thinking about Kirsten."
"Of course. You're her problem now. Matt's going to want second dinner."
With a tired sigh, he nods and heads into the kitchen. "I'll feed him his kibble."
I stay where I am, hoping that I did the right thing. Yet, as he walks away, I realize he has no obligation to walk back.
