Author Note: Holy shit, you guys! Talk about a response! Thank you all so much for the reviews, favorites, follows, and PM's. You're all fantastic.

I want to apologize for the shortness of the chapter and for how long it took to update. I am a full time student and I work as a supervisor, so I hardly have time to write. I hope to have the next chapter up in a week, but I make no actual promises. I thank you all so much for you patience.

I won't blather at you too much. Just know that this chapter will break your heart a little. Enjoy!

If you really want to sob while you read, go listen to "Kissing You Goodbye" by the Used, "What A Catch, Donnie" by Fall Out Boy, and "Parting of the Sensory" by Modest Mouse while you read. (Those were my inspiration songs this time around.)

This must be what shell-shock feels like.

Everything was slow. Nothing felt right. People were speaking, she knew they were because their lips were moving, but she didn't hear them. Hands gripped her shoulders and pulled her out of the club and into the terrified crowd on the street. Someone was guiding her toward the limo they had arrived in, but she couldn't be bothered to find out whom. She, Heather, and Pepper clambered into the limo and they began to pull away.

That's when sound started to process again.

"Where are we going?" Heather asked urgently.

"The airport," Pepper replied, her voice sounding tight.

"Why?"

"We have to get you two out of here. Get you somewhere safe."

"Is there anywhere that's safe from-"

Alice's eyes flickered over to Heather for the briefest of moments and she went quiet instantly.

"I don't know," Pepper sighed. "But Stark Tower is our best bet."

Things started moving at speed again as the limo gave a stomach turning lurch.

Pepper must have noticed Alice's eyes refocusing because she put what was meant to be a comforting arm around her shoulders.

"It's okay, honey," she offered encouragingly. "When Tony comes back we'll get this whole mess straightened out."

"He's going to kill him isn't he?" Alice whispered, words feeling foreign and unwelcome in her mouth.

Both of the other girls were silent, which Alice took to be a very bad sign.

"It wouldn't matter anyway," she grimaced. "John's already dead, isn't he? He's gone…that….thing replaced him."

"He's not dead," Heather attempted, but Alice was having none of it.

"You knew!" she accused. "You knew and you never warned me. You knew that this could happen, that he could turn…that he was…"

Words failed her, each attempt at speech bringing her deeper into the realization that John was gone, replaced by that monster that had appeared in his body. Her insides turned when she caught sight of the glinting ring on her finger, but she couldn't even manage to cry.

It hurt. The grief caused her physical pain, her insides turning at the mere thought of John's smiling face. She felt dry, ruined, and completely hollow.

How the fuck could he give her that fucking ring and then turn around and do this? It wasn't fair. True love doesn't die. Fairytales had assured her of that for as long as she could remember. The prince was supposed to ride up on a white horse, charm the princess, and they were supposed to ride off into the sunset together.

But this wasn't a fairytale. This was a nightmare.

At least, she would try to convince herself that it was until they arrived back at Stark Tower and she could have some time to herself. Otherwise, reality might prove to be a little too much for her.

"Do you want a drink?" Pepper suggested, opening a cooler beside her seat. "Tony never lets us go anywhere without this."

"I would love a drink," Alice agreed, her voice barely audible.

Nodding, Pepper pulled out three glasses and poured them each a bit of scotch. Alice was quite sure her glass had a notable amount more than the others, but she didn't say anything; simply downed it in a few swigs and hoped Pepper would offer her another.

Fortunately, Pepper seemed to have the same idea and they began round two.

The plane ride went relatively well. Alice only cried a couple of times, and by the time they reached Stark Tower, she was so drunk she could hardly stand. It was amazing how much alcohol helped her cope. Heather had cut her off at some point on the plane, but she had talked one of the flight attendants out of a few beers anyway. As the plane descended, she only puked a little.

"G-force isn't agreeing with me," she lied.

Heather and Pepper exchanged a glance that said they knew better, but didn't bother pointing it out. In their own little way, they seemed to understand, or at least thought they empathized enough to excuse her. After all, it isn't every day that you go from making wedding plans with the man of your dreams to finding out he's an angry exiled Norse God.

Their arrival at Stark Tower was far less exciting than Alice had hoped. No maids or butlers rushed out to meet them, nor was there an epic song and dance number about how they were "gonna like it here." Regardless, the glass elevator was pretty cool (even if Alice felt a little motion sick as it ascended). Alice and Heather were each given their own suite, and there was a piano that looked like it had never been touched residing in the living room that looked to be worth a few grand at least. Alice took mental note that she was going to have to remember to play it in the morning, if she wasn't too hung over.

"I hope your room is okay," Pepper smiled, helping Heather get Alice in to bed. "It's the best we could do on short notice."

"It's better than okay," Heather grinned. "They're fantastic."

"Do you think Alice is going to be okay?"

"Imma be fine," Alice promised, her words slurring rather badly. "I've turned JARVIS off for the night, but he will probably wake you up in the morning… with Tony's hangover cure."

"Tony has a cure for hangovers?" Alice breathed, closing her eyes to keep the room from spinning. The bed felt like it was rocking in a rather sickening way.

"He's got an arc reactor in his chest," Heather reminded under her breath. "Of course he has a hangover cure. The more important question is, who is JARVIS?"

"Remember the computer voice in the plane?" Pepper inquired. Heather nodded and Alice made a half-hearted motion to show she remembered as well. "That's him. He's sort of like Tony's automated butler. He's an artificial intelligence that controls all of the computers in the building."

"Is it a safe guess that most everything is computerized?"

"Of course."

After wishing them a good night, Pepper left Heather and Alice alone, saying she had work to go over before bed.

For a long time, Heather and Alice were silent; Alice trying to keep the room from spinning as Heather sat absently stroked the satin comforter.

"I know what you're thinking," Alice groaned. "I've had way too much to drink tonight."

"I was going to overlook that," Heather teased. "But since you said it…"

"Then what were you going to say?"

"That you should sleep in tomorrow. And…well…we'll talk about it later."

Still, Heather made no move to go to her own room. Alice wasn't going to force her to go either. Honestly, being alone seemed like the worst thing that could possibly happen at this point.

"Heather," Alice practically whispered. "Why didn't you warn me about John?"

"I didn't know," Heather defended.

"Yes you did. On the plane, you told Pepper about Stuttgart, about the guy that attacked there. It was Loki. You knew. You must have recognized John when you first met him."

"Would you have believed me? If I had told you that the man you were dating was actually an angry Norse God, would you have actually listened? No. We both know how stupid it would have sounded. Hell, I didn't believe it until today."

She had a point, but it still seemed unfair. Perhaps she was just looking for someone to blame for her heartache. Yet, to her drunken mind, it seemed as though Heather's warning could have saved her from this.

"I just wish I could have been prepared," she grumbled. "I don't know what to do. Heather… I think I'm heartbroken."

And with that confession, she burst into tears. Gross, breathless sobs shook her entire body.

"It's not fucking fair," she gasped. "We were supposed to get married, have kids, grow old together…supposed to have all of those stupid things that I never knew I wanted until I met him."

Heather's arms wrapped around her, pulling into a tight hug as Alice attempted to hold back her sobs. It was a fruitless effort. She had been holding them back since they left the club. There was no stopping them now.

"Why…just fucking…why?" Alice sobbed. "The one time I opened myself up…fall in love. He just leaves. He promised me everything and then left. And last night…last night he held me and kept calling me Mrs. Walker and told me how beautiful I was going to be in my wedding dress. I've never wanted anything so much in my life. But it sounded so perfect when he said it. And now….I'll never have any of that."

Her voice broke to give way to more tears.

"It hurts, Heather. Everything hurts. Everyone leaves…always. I'm so sick of being alone."

"You've got me," Heather offered.

"Yeah," Alice shrugged, her tears beginning to stain Heather's shirt. "Until you get a job somewhere. You'll leave the shop, move away…leave me."

"Do you really think I'd do that?"

"I wish I could say no. But you will. You have to. You're meant for better things than a fucking run down record store run by a deadbeat who gave up everything because she was scared of the world."

"You're not-"

"But I am! That's the worst part! That's why everyone fucking leaves. No one wants me. It started with mom and now it's like a disease. Dad and sis don't come around…hell they don't even call most of the time. I couldn't keep a guy until John and we see how that turned out. You're bound to leave eventually and I don't blame you."

"Alice! You're being silly!"

"No, I'm being honest."

"Alice," Heather said firmly. "I have never left you alone in your life. When you went to pick up Mary-Ann when you first got her and she was a piece of shit car that kept breaking down on the highway, who came to get you and drive you home?"

"You…"

"When you decided you wanted to run a record store instead of going to college, who opted to go to a local college instead of Europe so that you wouldn't be alone?"

"You turned down Europe?"

"Yes, but I'm not done yet. When your boyfriend turned into an angry Norse God and Tony Stark sent you to New York to keep you safe, who came along?"

"That last one doesn't count," Alice sniffled. "We didn't really have a choice."

"Shut up, I'm trying to sound like the hero, here."

This made Alice laugh, momentarily clearing her tears.

"You are my best friend," Heather smiled. "You will never have to do anything alone."

"Thank you," Alice sighed. "For everything."

When Heather felt Alice was calm enough, she went to get settled into her own room, leaving Alice alone with her thoughts and the loneliness that was clawing at her chest.

She didn't sleep that night, despite the alcohol that was kept trying to pull her into sweet oblivion. It was maddening. The cusp of unconsciousness would be at her feet, and then she would be swiftly hit with a new wave of self-loathing and loneliness and find herself back at square one.

Loki was brimming with power. It flowed through him like electricity, feeling so familiar and so incredibly new all at once. Oh, he had missed this!

The fight with Iron Man and Thor had not lasted long. Using a few body doubles, he had distracted the duo long enough to get away and teleport. In a flash he was gone, off to a new world, a new place to conquer with this newfound power. Yes, he would rule them as he had meant to rule Asgard, or even Midgard for that matter, and they would finally worship him as he was meant to be worshipped.

He felt his feet meet ground as the haze of magic began to fade. Blinking a few times, he let his eyes adjust to the new realm that he would soon take for his own. Breathing deep the scent of his land, he couldn't help feeling that it was familiar. Sort of sweet with a lingering hint of alcohol…wine…red wine…just like the kind that Alice used to…

No.

As his eyes adjusted, he realized that he was standing in the middle of the wretched mortal girl's living room. This was not a new realm at all.

Cursing his subconscious, he again summoned the power necessary for teleportation. As he allowed the power to take him, he envisioned the world on which he wanted to land. The land of the elves filled his mind. They would not be difficult to overtake, especially once he formed a new army. Elves were weak minded enough to fall under his command easily.

Once again, magic filled his vision. His body drifted through time and space before his feet once again met the ground.

His vision cleared faster this time, eyes adjusting to take in….the kitchen of his mortal self's apartment.

"Oh, honestly!" he scoffed aloud, leaning against the counter to rest a moment before attempting (and hopefully succeeding) to leave Midgard again.

His hand came into contact with a crusty substance on the counter and he jerked away reflexively. There was still a blue paint smear from the previous night when he and Alice had…

There was a sinking feeling in his chest. The thought of his former mortal love was becoming more and more painful. Why?

Desperately, he summoned power again, feeling deep within him that this would have to be his last trip of the night. Though he was powerful, especially in this reborn state, he could not keep doing this. Teleportation took more magic than he normally dared to use and it was dangerous to exhaust his power in this way. However, he knew that he had to get off Midgard as fast as possible, and this was the only way.

When he materialized in Alice's garage, he let out a frustrated growl, kicking the tire of the old white Lincoln. Feeling exhausted and utterly sick of his magic betraying him like this, he opened the door and sank into the driver's seat.

It was so familiar that for the briefest of moments he forgot who he was. The mortal self that was hiding in his subconscious let out a contented sigh, inhaling the familiar mix of leather, cigarettes, and cheap air freshener. As he closed his eyes, he could picture Alice, wind blowing her auburn hair, a cigarette in one hand the other beating on the steering wheel in time with the drum beat of whatever was on the radio. She would sing along, and smile over at him when he happened to know the words, laughing about how she was rubbing off on him. Flicking the cigarette out the window, she would use that hand to steer so that she could reach over and take his hand in hers. Those red lips of hers would quirk as she leaned close, pressing her lips to his for a brief moment. It was so real in his mind, it practically felt like she was there with him...

And for a moment, just one, fleeting moment, he longed to be mortal again.