Lana had ended up running to the living room. She didn't feel safe in the library, not with the nightmare like thing she had just had; all books made out of paper were fairly flammable. The roof didn't seem to be the safest option considering the god of mischief would probably find it funny to push her off the roof. And her room was still off limits, and she certainly didn't feel like sharing with Natasha, who herself wouldn't appreciate that much either. That left this room, which was in the center of everything, so, by default, the safest.

Her mind was reeling. If what she had been having was a dream, then how was her face burned, and how had she been holding a lighter? Nothing was making sense. Because, she continued thinking rapidly, if she had died in the dream, would she have died in reality as well? Lana had thought about dying in the past, what with her brother and all, but the thought of dying like that, in a dream, or a nightmare, was horrifying. She felt the cushions of the couch she was sitting on shift as someone quietly sat down beside her.

"So, how'd you get a burn on your face? That wasn't there earlier." Clint's voice asked, breaking the silence.

"It wasn't." She blew air out from the side of her lip, thinking of a response. "I had a dream."

"Annnnndddd..."

"Well, it wasn't actually a dream; it was like a nightmare. The fire came back." Clint looked sharply at her, but waited for her to continue. "But instead of their being smoke that was turning lifelike, the bodies came back to life. One touched me on the face." she cradled her injured cheek. He tilted her head to look at the burn more closely.

"That looks like a hand print..." It did; there were five splashes of burnt skin lining up around a larger partial circle, with only more minor burns in between them.

"I figured as much." On her list of priorities, checking to see the shape of the burn wasn't high up. She thought for a moment and recalled something.

"I remember once, when I was younger, I fell asleep at outside. It was a spring day, I remember. There were lot's of bees out. I don't know why, but one stung me. Maybe my whiteness blinded it. But I didn't wake up from the sting; I just incorporated it into my dream. I think I was dreaming about kings and castles, and when the bee stung me, I was shot with an arrow." Clint looked his shoulders, and seemed to say yet again, without speaking, 'annnnndddd?'.

"Did I get this on my face because I dreamed it, or did I dream it because I got this on my face?"

"That's a bit disturbing to think about."

"Yeah, really."

Clint had 'left', but Lana knew that he wasn't far away, considering she had some sort of metaphorical target painted on her back. He was probably hiding in an air vent. She pictured him sitting in the cramped, claustrophobic nature that was the air vent, and snorted, not envying him in the slightest.

She reached for an apple on the table. It was a beautiful, shiny, red apple that was calling out to her, just begging to be eaten. The apple was almost at her lips when she felt like someone was behind her. She then sacrificed the apple as she slung it directly at whoever was behind her. The blonde was dismayed to hear it hit the plaster of the wall behind her.

Her breathes were becoming very short as her body responded to her fear. Fight-or-flight become a reality for her, although never actually thought 'flight', seeing how she never even thought to look for a door or another form of exit. She instead looked back to the low-lying table in front of her, and somehow not seeing the value of the bowl that the apples were placed in as a weapon, she picked up another apple instead. Lana was full of great ideas that night. She saw something out of the corner of her eye, but when she fully turned around, nothing was there.

She gripped the red skin of her 'weapon' tightly as her eyes darted around the room, looking for the intruder, who was hopefully not the smoke. The apple, in a whoosh of air, disappeared, and Lana, realizing what was happening, clutched what little of a heart she had left in relief. A whoosh of air meant Pietro, not smoke. Her eyes then narrowed, however, because she had been scared out of her wits by him.

"PIETRO." She yelled, and the speedster all but materialized in front of her, snacking on the apple.

"YOU." She smacked him on the arm. "ASS."

"What did I do?" he said through a mouth full of apple.

"You scared me, that's what you did, you jerk!" she hit him again.

"I scared you?"

"Yes. Lurking around and stealing weapons is a bit scary."

He held up the half eaten apple.

"You had an... apple."

"Well, duh. And for all I know, it's allergic to apples or has a strong dislike of them."

"It's? What's this it?" His face scrunched up into a rather adorable confused face.

"The thing? Uh..." her thoughts came out jumbled as she searched for a word that would appropriately describe the creepy smoke. She gave up fairly quickly. "The smoke? The smoke that was in my room, and the smoke that was in my dream that pretty much gave me this." she said with a clenched teeth smile as she pointed to her face. His face remained unchanged, no recognition in his eyes as to what she was talking about. She mentally rolled her eyes at his limited memory. "You know, the smoke that Stark was talking about this morning?"

"Oh, you mean the fire that wasn't a fire, that had a creature in it."

"Yes, that."

"And you thought that it would be allergic to apples?"

"The universe is a big place. You never know. In some place, smoke creatures might be allergic to apples." She held up crossed fingers.

"And what if it wasn't allergic to the apple, hm? Where you going to whack it to death with a fruit?"

"Maybe."

"I fear for you."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "I might have had a chance. You never know." She said with all knowing grey eyes.

"Except you couldn't hit me. And I don't turn into," he moved his hands for effect, "smoke."

"One day, I'm going to surprise you." Lana said stubbornly.

He looked incredulously at her, before deciding that the best course of action would be to humor her. "One day." he agreed.

"Where are the others?" she said changing the subject.

"Ah, they should be here by now." He scratched his chin. "Mr. Stark said something about needing to show you something, but - "

"But you ran off before he could finish explaining?" Pietro's mouth had opened to retort when the sound of loud discussion entered the room.

"Lana!" Stark said, making a not-so-grand entrance seeing, as he was trying to move so fast, he stumbled on the stairs leading up to her. He stood at the top of the stairs catching his breath before continuing, Clint, Bruce, and the two gods making a much slower ascent. Lana realized with a small gut-clenching thought that Clint hadn't been close by after all.

"You really need to stop running off when something bad happens." Stark spoke, continuing his march towards her, stopping a foot away.

"I'm fine!" she said like a child would to their nagging mother.

"Fine? You're fine? You have a hand print on your face. Burned onto your face, might I add. And you're fine?"

"For the most part..." she said sheepishly, running a hand through her hair, catching on a knot, which she scowled at.

"You need help." Stark said, shaking his head in disbelief at her nonchalant attitude.

"Tell me something I don't know."

"No, seriously. Whatever this thing is, is out to get you."

"And why would you say that?" Lana knew exactly why he would say that, but she really didn't like facing reality. Reality really hadn't been treating her well lately, so she was attempting the silent treatment. Fun face: reality didn't seem to take notice.

Reality is a bitch.

"Watch and learn." Stark said as he pressed the screen of his pad and the wall lit up with a video feed, one of which, she was the main star, but not the only one. Her head slumped on the table, and what came next made Lana's heart stop. There was smoke, smoke that Lana watched on the screen twist itself around in intricate ways until it had some resemblance to a humanoid form as it finished seeping from out of every crevice. Still trailing smoke, it slowly approached her, and cocked its head to one side, stopping abruptly beside her.

What Lana guessed was it's hand quickly went to the side of her face. The side of her face that had the hand print on it. It didn't rest there like a human hand, but dispersed around her head as well. The Lana on the video flinched in her sleep, but didn't wake up. After a moment, the smoke reached over to her hand, leaving what Lana assumed was the lighter. Although, she wasn't quite sure how, seeing as she doubted that smoke carried a lighter even when it was corporeal, much less when it was in it's true smoke state. The smoke state that was basically gas.

The video ended with Lana's head popping up in alarm and Bruce entering the room. Lana watched the screen go black. During her talk with Clint, she had wondered if she had the hand print because of the dream, or had the dream because of the hand print. With a cold feeling of dread, she knew which one now, and almost wished that the hand print had come from the dream. Although, that would have been incredibly disturbing too, so it was a bit of a toss up.

"Still fine?" Stark asked, pressing something on his pad.

"I don't understand." She said pitifully.

"Neither do I, kiddo, but we'll figure this out, I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

Sorry it's short! I've been loosing inspiration of late, so any suggestions and/or ideas would be welcome!