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Day 3

I stalked the person walking through the dark alleyway, as they kept walking faster and faster, unaware that I was following them, but afraid of the dark.

Their fear filled my nostrils and my body with the feeling of absolute delight. Their quick breath matched their faster footsteps, until finally they met a dead end.

I approached, silent in the mask of the whistling wind and pounced on the person, my jaws sinking into their neck, warm blood gushing out, flowing down my dry throat.

They turn around and face me, and I see glistening blue eyes, filled with horror and fear, and blond hair.

I woke up to a start, sweat brimming on my bare arms.

I feel like I've just gone swimming.

That's when I catch sight of myself, sitting upright, staring at my reflection in the big mirror.

I look like I've just gone swimming.

With my hair everywhere and my T-shirt clinging to me, I look like a mess.

But that's not the worst part.

I had a horrible nightmare.

Only it was more like a vision, but no matter what I chose to call it, it would remain the same it was in my head.

Frightening.

Slowly I ran my tongue over my teeth, still tasting the imaginary blood on them.

I... Killed William.

As I stand in the cold shower, fatigue and relief washes over me at the same time. The house and the sky are the same dark blue color, reminding me of the night view I had from my room in the Titanic.

I can't tell if I have the shower on so scalding hot that it's cold, or if it's skinny dipping in the Antarctic freezing. Humans are bad thermometers already, but mix half-demon and death into it, you get a full-on numb piece of wood, not capable of telling scalding hot from freezing cold.

I close my eyes and stand under the shower head, hearing the water rain on me as if I were standing in a hurricane, or a thousand rocks were being pelted at my door, or at my brain.

The thought of rocks being pelted at me makes me feel as if Rebecca was the one pelting, raining rocks on our team, and I feel as if the thought is burning the insides of my brain, one small demonized undead cell at a time.

I step out of the bathroom, bags and a feeling of a headache coming on. I shuffle slowly and quietly downstairs to the kitchen, where I see the clock. It's 4:37. A.M.

I want to open the cabinets for seeing if Tony has some good tea, or just any tea, at this point. Then I re-think that. This guy has literally 20 cabinets. On one wall. I should use my powers.

Out of nowhere, an over-whelming rush of the dream comes back to me.

William's pale face.

The little choke noises he made.

And then, the blood I felt, running down my chin, past my jaw.

My teeth feel stained and dirty again.

Shuddering, I hope for the best, and open the first two cabinets on the right. Dishcloths and plates. Closing them, I try again, with the next two beside it. Bowls and different assortments of mugs and cups. So I close these two and open the next three. One of them is filled with various spices, the other one cooking supplies, such as spatulas and soup spoons. The third one is pans and pots.

I sigh, and feel stupid. Obviously, these are over the stove and oven.

I shut those three and open three more.

Cereal, fancy french skillets and an empty cabinet.

I feel like giving up.

No. I need that tea.

So I open three more.

Empty, empty and then at the very bottom of the last cabinet, FINALLY!

Just what I was looking for, coffee and tea cabinet. I must memorize this. The 13th cabinet from the left. Why would the tea and coffee be so far from the other stuff? I stop, and think.

Finally, I conclude, who cares?

I sift through their selection of tea.

Earl Grey, green tea, white, lemongrass, lemon, Orange Pekoe, peach, apple, black, chamomile, peppermint, vanilla, caramel, jasmine, chai, and the one I drink the most, plain, good old herbal tea.

Almost all of these teas have never been opened. The Earl Grey is missing one bag, but aside from that, all the boxes are closed. I finger the tops for dust, but get nothing.

They're all new.

I'm in the mood for something that will wake me up a little, so I open the peppermint box, and a smell of fresh peppermint and candy canes washes over me, creating a relaxing yet invigorating feeling that fills the air.

I open the correct cabinet, and pull out a pot instead of a teapot. I turn on the tap and fill up the pot, letting my mind wander. Then I turn the stove on, and watch the pot sit there on the just-turned on stove.

I pull out a cup, and put the peppermint tea bag into it.

Then I perch on the island, and think, running through my head's thoughts, replaying last night's party.

Then like a mindless zombie I jog upstairs, open the door to my room, and sigh, watching the still lifed black rose in it's vase, the stem cut at an angle.
That reminds me, I have to change the water everyday, or it'll die.

I leave a small note to myself reminding me this, and then walk back downstairs.

The lights are off.

That's odd.

I run my hand along the wall, searching for the light switch, and then hit it.

My cup of peppermint tea is done, and it's sitting on the island. By itself.

I feel my eyes flicker around, and I take a big lunge over to my tea, and grab it.

Pepper's head pops up from the otherside of the counter. Outside, I look not scared at all.

But inside my heart is jumping up and down, and out of the corner of my eye, the clock cracks.

She steps around the island gently, as if there was water on the ground and she was trying not to step into it.

Pepper is dressed in a long dark blue nightgown that matches the sky outside.

"When you first came," Pepper says, glancing the cracked clock, "Tony told me to look up your prefrences so that you would have a more comfortable time living here."

Yeah right, he probably wanted the exact opposite of that.

"So I checked up with your leader, and he said that you really really liked tea. That's why so many boxes are new. I bought them all because William said he wasn't sure exactly what tea you liked."

"Thank you." I mutter quickly before taking a sip. "I appreciate it."

"So peppermint is your favourite?" Her eyes glisten.

"No." I say, and I bet she find this a little funny since her name is Pepper, "I like all kinds. It depends on my mood."

"Ah." She smiles. "I see."

I watch as she watches me drinking my tea. I never thought I'd say this, but Pepper is getting a little, the teeniest, the most petite, just a tad bit on my nerves with her over joyfullness.

In an eerie way, she reminds me of Sadie.

In a hyper-active-super-happy-always-smiling-even-though-she's-living-with-the-two-most-emotionless-people-on-the-planet way.
I wonder how Tony puts up with her day after day.

Love is blind. And apparently ignorant of how different you are from the other person.

Who would have thought that polar opposites attract?

That's when Pepper notices my knitted eyebrows, staring deeply at a spot just above her left ear. She decides it's time for her to leave.

"Er... Tony might be wondering where I am." She gives me an uneasy smile, and starts backing out of the room. "Don't stay up too late."

I watch as she leaves the room, and then I move my head to glance at the cracked clock.

Why did I have the nightmare? And one of killing William specifically? I mean, he's my best friend. Maybe my demon side wanted to go on a killing spree.
I close my eyes, intake a deep, long breath, and rub my temples, trying to clear my mind.

I stare at the clock, searching from something, one small detail that I might've missed, but the consequences of remembering that dream hurts my brain.
Whatever the answer may be, I can't go home to the Titanic. Not now. Not ever, possibly.

I can't risk the chance of hurting my closest friend. He understands me the best, and in our missions, we've formed... A bond. I mean, not like just a regular bond, but I've entered his head and his thoughts.

I know he kind of had the same 'family' issues I had.

Worry fills up every undead half-demon cell I have. I let out a small painful moan that turns out to be a little louder than I suspected.

I shut my eyes, and try to force myself to stay focused. I can't let anything explode. No explosions. No explosions.

Focus.
I can't take it anymore in this kitchen. Everything is so modernized and so new and white it aggravates me so much.

I run upstairs, leaving my tea on the counter, not caring about how much noise I project.

Holding my breath, I flop face first on the pillow, but catch myself feeling hot tears run down the side of my face.

The objects start flying around the room, my books, my pencils, etc.

I can't ever go back. I can't see my best friends. I will never be able to say thank you to Sam in person, something I feel like I want to do so much. Dread fills me as much as the worry did.

Where will I go when this week ends. William will come search for me, but I can't see him in person.

So I'll call him on the communicator.

I flip open the communicator, wiping away my tears. Punching in William's code, I clear my throat, and take a deep breath in.

Look calm and reserved, I tell myself, don't look like you've been crying.

All the floating objects drop with a thud onto the ground.

I wait for a few seconds, but I get no answer, just static.

And I thought communicators worked through dimensions.

Maybe I should call Sam.

I can't. I just... I can't.

Macy, you need to calm down. You need to-

I think I'm having another breakdown right now.

Actually, I am, because I'm staring at the rose, tears falling down my face.

Sam doesn't know how much it hurts. He teases, flirts almost with me, and it burns, a small inevitable pain that eats me from the inside out. Why would he do that to me, to someone whom he knows has an impossibly low self-esteem.

He knows I can't love anyone, or be in any relationships because of my emotions and all this-

I sigh.

Curse my demon life.

I sob into my pillow, feeling like a complete idiot. Why am I crying?

It's not like people will care how I feel. I need to stop, or Tony's going to come in here, and yell at me, or do something that will drive my already terribly low self-esteem into the ground and into hell.

I am trying to stop crying, I'm doing my best, but every time I try to stop, my mind forces me to remember the fact that I will never see my only friends ever.

It took me long enough to become friends with them, and now I have to leave and practically disappear off the face of the earth.

I just can't deal with this- No. I can. I must. I have to.

I am Macy Terreth, daughter of a demon, undead teenager, I am supposed to be the toughest and most sarcastic, ignorant and ignored one in the group.
No hogging the spotlight.

I prop myself upright, wipe away the remnants of my tears and start to meditate.

I breathe in, and breathe out, trying to time my breathing properly.

My headache just hit its climax.

Someone knocks on the door, but in my head, it registers as a loud pounding, and not just on my door, but the fibers of my destroyed being.

"Hey." Tony pries my door open, "Can you quiet that party down?" He gestures to the floating items.

All the floating items drop immedietly and I feel small tears start to well up in my eyes. "You know Tony, if your powers are controlled by emotions," I wipe my tears with the heel of my hands, "No one cares at all how you feel. They just don't want you to explode anything."

Tony just stands there in silence, listening and watching to me sniffle and look at my hands in my lap. "I'm going to regret asking this, but..." He took a deep breath in and came into my room. "What happened?" He sits down beside me on the bed.

I shake my head slowly, shutting my eyes tight and let out a long hurt breath. "You don't have to pretend you care." I whimper, my voice cracking, "Nobody cares, Tony."

I feel him about to get up and leave, about to give up, but in the corner of my eye, I see Pepper at the door, shaking her head frantically, forcing him to sit back down, and stay to talk.

Tony licks his lips, thinking about what he should say. "Maybe..." He takes in a deep breath of air and lets it out. "Maybe you should consider telling someone. So that they can actually care about you."

I look up at him, tears starting to blur up my vision. No, I must... Calm. Down. I take in a deep breath. "And you want to be the person to hear about this?"

I see his eyes dart to the door to Pepper, but she's already gone. Back to her room I guess.

He wipes his sweaty hands on his pants and his white t-shirt. He coughs, trying to disguise his words. "Not really."

"What is that?" I fire, my mood already not happy, "You cough and then you say not really, I can still hear you!"

He remains speechless, and lets out a small sigh.

"You see, that's just it Tony, you've never had any difficulty in your life! You're rich, you're happy, you can express more than 50% of your emotions!" The mirror cracks, right ontop of my face. "People actually care about you! Do you know how it feels to be a half-demon that nobody cares for?" Tears start running down my face in anger and pain. "You have a life! Someone loves you back! You're Tony Stark! Everybody knows you! You have friends! I can never see my friends again! I don't have anywhere to go! I can't go home. And as much as I wish I could get out of your hair, I can't, okay?!" Finally I drop my head back, covering my face with my hands.

After a small silence, he asks me, "Is that better?"

At first, I don't understand. But then I realize he didn't fire back any remarks, and that's not at all like him. "I guess I do feel a little better." I lick my chapped lips. "Thanks for letting me pour it all out. I never could, and now I feel like a huge weight is gone."

He smiles a little, but it's more of a smirk. "You have no idea how hard it was to let you yell at me and break my mirror without firing back a snark remark." He shrugs.

"More like a Stark remark." I mutter quietly, my voice scratchy.

"That's a good one." He chuckles, "I'm going to use that one."

I smile softly at him. "I literally just came up with that off the top of my head."

He smiles back. "Never took you for the jokester type."

So after that, I let a silence fall, but it's long and comforting, and for once, I feel a little bit at home here.

Then awkwardly, he sticks his arm out as if to do something. Tony reaches over for my shoulder, but I stop him. "You don't have to pat my shoulder yet."

A look of relief crosses his face. "Thank god." And he retracts his arm. "You know, as much as I'm going to regret saying this," Iron Man takes in a huge breath, "You can stay here."

Weeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwww... BOOM.

Bomb dropped.

Damage: Done.

I was not expecting that. Get ready for a counter act attack!

Okay, I'm kidding.

"Thank you." I say, smiling like an idiot. "Thank you."

Tony ignores me, but in a nice, 'I don't know what to say' kind of way. "This doesn't mean anything." He adds.

I wring my hands, and look at the cracked mirror. "You know what would make this day even better?"

"Sleep?" He suggests sarcastically.

"A food." I say, ignoring him. "Do you know what food?"

"Ice cream," He says under his breath.

"Ice cream!" I say, pretending that I didn't hear him, waving my hands in the air mystically.

Tony gets up, off of my bed. "I'll go get it."

I smile back at him gently. Maybe we can start being friends.

Okay, so this chapter is kind of boring. And Tony seems out of character, but I needed this. Tell me what I can improve guys, I need help!