chapter xiv.
(   interlude   )

father, have mercy
i know that i have gone  astray
when i saw my reflection
it was a stranger beneath my face
the lament of eustace scrubb ─── the oh hellos

new york, new york
november 29, 2015
(   third person point of view   )

Some people are born with it.

Pain.

They are destined for it as they are brought into the world and as they grow older. They live their lives as best they can, trying to keep inside their fear of what new dark pain might come next. They wake in each new morning, dreading who or what they might lose next. They go to sleep each night with tears staining their pillows and hatred for themselves sinking into their hearts. Some people just don't know how to survive it and some people just try to push it away from themselves. They hide themselves from the pain, and numb themselves to the misery. It's the only way that some people know how to carry on. It's only way the Starks know how to survive.

The girl of twenty has never felt more alone.

She's never felt more far away, more lied to, more despised.

It is all because of that despicable file.

God, why did she ever open that file?

Now she knows.

Now she knows all of it.

Lisa keeps her head ducked low and her trembling hands stuffed into her pockets as she moves through the dark New York Streets, trying to just disappear like she's always asked to. She buries her chin within the neck of her sweatshirt, rubbing her pale lips together in hopes of warming them up. It's raining again and the heavy droplets are icy and bitter, only made worse by the February air that feels so much colder than anyone could think possible.

Lisa got so close again; so close to talking to the boy, to-to him. His name... Peter. It's so hard to say his name now. She almost saw him again today. She stopped outside the tall brown-brick apartment building and she just couldn't do it. She still can't do it. There's too much anger, too much rage, and, frankly, too much hatred. It's been eating her alive for the past nine months, swallowing her up into this deep dark pit she knows she can't escape from. She just wants so badly to find a way to shut it out, to forget, to just not be this miserable being anymore.

But her stupid desires don't matter.

How can anyone escape from themselves?

All of her past, all of those horrible memories, all of that pain, it's led her to this. She had to know it was always coming to this. Everybody had to know that she was destined for this fate. Her own mother told her she wasn't going anywhere far in life. Reporters have said so many times that she was going to end up as all rich kids did: broken, lonely, a waste of space. Even her father said she was destined to lose herself to all of his problems. After all, the line between being Lisa Stark and being someone else has come dangerously close and she's not sure which side she'll choose to fall onto.

A voice suddenly breaks through Lisa's dark thoughts, "Well, what do we have here?"

Her feet slow to a halt and her jaw clenches as a man casually saunters into her path. The girl's blue eyes narrow slightly and, with a heavy breath, her head lolls back while she finds herself unimpressed with the grimey-looking man looking over her. He puckers his fat lips, creeping a little closer to Lisa with a twisted expression on his shadowed face. The Stark doesn't bother moving as the man gets just inches away and breathes onto her face.

His dark eyes slowly meet Lisa's as she stares back without any hint of intimidation or fear, "What's a pretty girl like you doing in such a dangerous part of the city as this?"

Nearly trembling from the anger still seeping out her, Lisa responds with a humorless and tight-lipped smirk, "Currently? Trying to restrain myself from doing something violent."

The man tsks mockingly and walks around to be further in her path, "Come on now, Baby, don't be so unkind to me. We're just the guys willing to offer you a place out of the rain.'"

Lisa's shoulders immediately stiffen when another hand slowly touches her hair, his dirty fingers slowly pulling through her dark locks.

This new man reeking of alcohol bats his eyelashes at her, "He's right, you know. Not everybody is as friendly as us, Girl."

"Don't 'Girl' me." She snaps before giving a mocking high-pitched laugh, "And you know what? What you said, that's true!"

Lisa suddenly lashes out by snatching onto his hand that is still tangled in her hair and twisting it around his wrist until she hears a disgustingly satisfying snap. The second man tears his hand from her grip and howls in pain, screaming incoherent words that she is pretty sure she's glad she can't understand. Lisa pulls back a little, stiffening from head to toe as her eyes are ignited with that same old rage that has been within her since that night.

Lisa's face turns into a mocking scowl as she slowly, eerily looks back at the original man, "God, you have no idea just who you've messed with, do you?"

His eyes are hard and cold as he stares back into her terrifying eyes.

Lisa Stark could not often be called terrifying. Sure, she learnt to hold her own, but she never frightened anyone. But she does tonight. She frightens even herself. The man suddenly cuts his gaze into the nearby alley and nods quickly into the shadows. Before the girl has time to react, Lisa is being grabbed around the shoulders and legs before she's dragged and yanked back further and further in the darkness.

She lets out an angry yell when she pulls her legs in and then thrusts them back out as hard as she can. Her boots crush into one of the men's chest and he launches back before scraping down against the gritty alley floor. The girl harshly plants her feet down and flips the one holding her shoulders directly over her head. It's four against one as they stumble around her, trying to circle the nineteen year old in and push her further back into the alley.

Lisa just lets out a sardonic breath and wipes her rain-soaked hair from her eyes, "You know, usually, I'd be a little worried, but right now," she cocks her head to the side as she glares at the original man and lowers her thruster-embedded hands, "I'm going to take it slow," her teeth cut her lips into a terrifying smile, "and enjoy this."

Her boot suddenly slams down onto one of the men's feet, digging her heel into his toes as she spins around to kick another in the throat. While he gags and coughs, she grabs onto his head and slams his forehead into the alley wall. Her spine curves, dodging a punch aimed for her jaw and then returning one at the newest man's abdomen. Her hands wrap around the back of his neck and she brings his head down and her knee up only to connect the two.

The glint of a knife suddenly catches Lisa's eye and forces her to slide back as it is swiped for her chest. She dodges the man and his knife twice more before she spins around, grabs onto the side of his arm, and forces it back around to his shoulder. He screams in pain at the knife stabbed into his flesh. Lisa tears the blade out and hurls it down the alleyway, far out of everyone's reach. The original man suddenly dives for the girl, making her curl out of the way and then wrap her arm around his neck. She rips his head back before jumping up and swinging her body around his until the weight forces him down.

She ends up on top of him and she brings her fist down into his shocked face again and again and again until her knuckles feel broken and her shoulder aches like nothing ever has. She pulls her fist back once more, baring her teeth as she glares down at the man. But she can't really see him underneath the blood that she's spilled. Lisa slowly lets out a gasping breath, horrified at what she's done. She pushes her body off of his, falling back down onto the grim-covered alley floor. For a long moment, she just stays there and stares at the unconscious bodies surrounding her, trying to feel the cold of the rain that keeps falling. 

But the problem is, Lisa's numb. She can't feel anything at all. Or maybe she just feels too much. Is that possible? To feel so much that you can't feel anything at all?

Finally, when she can't handle the sight of the bodies she's broken anymore, Lisa picks herself off the ground and, after she slowly turns away, she breaks out into a run. She just leaves, like everyone else always does. She's breathing harshly while a cab drives her back upstate. She stares blankly off into space while she begins to feel sick to her stomach all over again. She bites down onto her thumb's knuckle, trying to stop the flood of tears and rage that threaten to pour out of her.

The lights are mostly out at the facility as the cab pulls down the gravel road. Lisa figures most of the team must be asleep at this hour; just like they were that night she opened the file. She ignores FRIDAY when she enters the large building, holding onto her aching ribs as she sneaks through the dim halls. As she finally slides her way back into her bedroom, she comes up short when she spots Wanda Maximoff sitting on her new friend's bed. Wanda knows Lisa went out much later than she usually does. It doesn't take a genius to realize that the Sokovian is worried.

Who in their right minds wouldn't be worried?

Lisa has been so strange in the past months following the Battle of Sokovia. Everyone has noticed. Questions have been asked to which Lisa always has such great answers and excuses to offer in response. Still, that doesn't change what they see in her. The usually happy and kind young woman is suddenly reserved, quiet, and so visibly angry. Through all of this breaking and through of all this hell, Wanda has tried hard to become close friends with Lisa. They both need a friend, Lisa knows that. But right now, Lisa's just too broken to care.

"Hi! I was just..." Wanda still tries to smile at the sight of the other twenty year old, but her smile quickly fades when she actually sees her, "Lisa? Oh my... is that blood?!"

Lisa hurriedly rubs her running nose, spreading the red liquid across her face while she walks into the room, "Yeah."

"Is it yours?" Wanda asks fearfully, standing up from the large bed and wringing her hands in front of her.

Lisa stops and she slowly straightens, staring down at her bloody and shaky hands, "Partly."

Wanda covers her mouth her own hand, her eyes widening as she cautiously follows the girl to the bathroom. She watches in silence as Lisa struggles to wash the red from her hands, gasping for air deeply. She looks to be struggling against the angry tears burning her eyes. When the red is just a stain upon her pale flesh, Lisa finally comes to the realize that it's not getting any better than that. Sucking in a sharp breath, she turns, pushes by Wanda, and roughly bumps their shoulders against each other. Wanda steps to the side with confused eyes, watching as Lisa suddenly snatches clothes from her closet and begins throwing them into a bag.

Wanda's brown eyes are still wide as she slowly steps closer and sprawls her hands out towards her, "Wait a moment, what are you doing?"

"Leaving. I gotta get out. I-I gotta..." Lisa doesn't finish and she just shakes her head, breathing heavily. 

"To where?"

Lisa stutters out the words through her irritation, "I-I don't know!"

"Oh. I see. For-for how long?"

"Who gives a crap?" Lisa whirls around to her, snapping angrily, "You?! When have you ever cared about me, Witch?"

Wanda's mouth falls open before Lisa stumbles for the door, trying to escape as the guilt for her words already threatens to consume her.

"Lisa, please, let me help." Wanda quickly follows after her closest friend, a pleading look in her eyes.

Lisa scoffs out a laugh, not meaning anything she's saying, "I think you've helped enough."

With that, she steps out the door and disappears once more.

♕♕♕

The night gets only worse.

Lisa stares stoically into public bathroom mirror, pursing down on her lips and fighting the burning tears that are threatening to roll down her cheeks.

"Stop crying." She desperately whispers to her reflection, choking out the words, "Stop crying. Just stop. Please, please stop crying."

The now twenty year old lets out a sharp breath, trying to spread on the makeup but her hands... they won't stop their shaking. They just won't stop. She breathes harshly, in and out just like she used to practice with her father. It's not working. Nothing ever works. She chokes on a harsh breath, leaning forward to press her forehead down onto the sink's counter. She can't do this anymore. She can't be this... this person anymore. She has to escape. She has to forget. Just for one instant. Just for one hour.

But she knows it's a bad idea even as she shakily picks up her phone and dials the number. She's been debating about it for months. This was her last resort, and her last chance to forget. And when he picks up the phone, when she asks him to meet her for dinner, she knows that she's going to regret that phone call.

    But that doesn't stop her from sitting down across from Michael Allen not half an hour later. Not many places are open at such a time as this, but places with screaming music, bright lights, and warm air certainly offered them a chance. Yellow and blue lights dance all around the pair and they spark off of Michael Allen's face, illuminating his striking green eyes. No one can say he isn't an attractive man, but still, there is something about him. There is something that looms within his underlying expression and something dangerous within his serpent eyes. Lisa saw the first time she met him nearly a year ago and that tone in his eyes hasn't gone away. If anything, it's been made only stronger.

    Michael Allen smiles a little at the girl, half leaning back in his seat, "I was honestly kinda shocked to get your phone call."

    Lisa looks up at him quickly, looking almost surprised that he is attempting to hold a conversation.

    "Oh, well yeah, um," she awkwardly scratches her forehead before clearing her throat, "I just... I got your phone number from one of the Lisa Foundation event coordinators and um,"

"No, no, you don't have to explain to me, Lees." He laughs and waves her thoughts away, leaning forward into the edge of the table, "Can I call you Lees?"

Her shoulders stiffen a little at the nickname, having only heard the people closest to her call her such a thing, "I mean, if you want to. Most people,"

He suddenly interrupts, "It's only because I have heard of people calling you that. After all, you are the most well-known young woman in the world."

Lisa's lips twist as she asks in a bitter tone, "Am I?"

"Hm," is all he hums in response before leaning towards her from across the table, "'Cause see, while I was surprised, I was also intrigued."

"Intrigued," Lisa repeats and nods slowly, "Interesting word choice."

"Well," he smirks and his eyes grow strange once more, "you're an interesting girl."

Lisa's lips flicker into a forced smile before she takes a slow and pained breath.

Is that what she is?

Interesting?

She struggles to swallow and her eyes burn as the lights flash, forcing her to duck her head back down to the study the menu that her eyes just can't seem to focus on.

"And those hands..."

Lisa carefully glances down at her bruised and broken fists, slowly lowering them into her lap as Michael goes on with slightly squinted eyes, "I'm sure there's an interesting story behind those too."

They slowly meet each other's gaze and Lisa's throat grows tight. He tilts his chin back and he still wears this oddly smug smirk. It's as if he can see right through her. But she can't let him know what she's done. She can't let anyone know. She knows she took it too far and she can't bear to own up to it. The guilt of it is just another shovel of dirt that is dropped down on top of her.

"Not really." Lisa laughs breathily, hurriedly trying to come up with a story, "I just didn't use boxing gloves when I was hitting on the punching bag."

Michael stares at her for a long moment with a blank expression before the corner of his lips curves up, "That's a lie if I've ever heard one."

Her face falls and her cheeks flush.

He wiggles his two first fingers at her, "No, no, don't worry, Lisa. Your lie is safe with me. I mean, come on, it's not really like there is such a thing as truth, right? Everyone has their own perception of situations. You make your own truth."

The words ring in her ears.

Your own truth.

What's Lisa's own truth?

She stares at him, fighting the tremble in her hands and she shrugs a bit.

He just gives a humming laugh before blinking at her slowly, "Shall we order?"

♕♕♕

A girl of twenty stumbles through the streetlights that dance across her skin. Lisa's technically not lost. Not technically, but oh God, she is. That girl is more lost than she's ever been. Her feet trip over the flat concrete sidewalk and she crashes into the payphone, creating a loud bang that catches the attention of the nearby partiers. Lisa's hand sloppily waves at them in apology before her fingers curl around the edges of the payphone box in hopes of keeping herself upright.

She licks her suddenly so very dry lips and her toes feel kind of cold as she stands out on the wet pavement. Her throat burns and so does her stomach. She feels crazily dizzy and she shakes her head in hopes of clearing it. This does the exact opposite and, instead, she stumbles a little, feeling like the whole world is careening. With a quiet groan, she drags her heavy body back in front of the payphone and her fingers messily type in another number to another man.

But this is the one she should have called first.

But it's too late.

A confused yet beautifully familiar voice rings within her ears as a prince questions, "Lisa?"

"T!" The girl giggles insanely, her hand gripping tighter to the metal box, "T-Bone, what's happenin', my man?"

T'Challa takes a moment to respond, asking a question to which he already knows the answer to but can't quite believe it, "Are you drunk?"

"Am I drunk?" Lisa repeats, snorting and still giggling, "Am I drunk?! I am so drunk! I am drunk out of my mind!"

The prince sighs a little, "Lisa. You need to hail a taxi and return home."

"Do I?" She slurs, "Do I really?"

"Yes, you do really."

"Mm." Her once happy voice is suddenly angry as she begins to get louder, "And wha' is it that makes you think you can tell me what to do, huh? Yer not the boss of me!" Her voice then grows shaken and strained as she snaps, "We're not t'gether anymore! We're not in love anymore, are we?!"

"Lisa... please, just go home."

"I can't go home. I can't ever go home. What can't people ever understand that?! She-she doesn't want me."

"Who?" T'Challa shakes his head, asking in worried confusion, "Just calm and talk to me. Who doesn't?"

A sob comes over the line and she presses her forehead to the top of the payphone, "Ever'body always leaves. N' exceptions. So I drank to forget," she digs her fingers into her forehead, creating nail prints in her soft skin, "God, just so many things, T. And you're one of 'em. Yet here I am, stupidly callin' you on this stupid phone during this stupid night and I'm stupid drunk and you're-you're stupid too."

The young man raises his eyebrows.

"I love you so much." The girl breaks out another sob.

T'Challa grits his teeth, blinking quickly to fight back his emotion, "And I love you."

"And I screwed it up, like I do everything."

"No Lisa, this was not only you. It was me and it was the council and my father. It was so many things. Do not place that on your shoulders."

Lisa chokes the words out hoarsely, still feeling the blood on her hands and the weight of all of her other sins, "I've messed up really bad this time, T. I can't fix this. I can't fix what I've done... I've ruined everything."

And she can't.

It's too late to fix her most recent mistake.

"What are you talking about? What have you ruined? Lisa?"

She shakes her head and she presses her fingers to her lips, "I'm so sorry. For everything."

"Lisa,"

Lisa suddenly interrupts him, seething, "But not for how much I hate her and I wanna kill her."

"What is it you're saying, Lisa? What?"

"My mother." She answers incredulously, as if he should've known the answer, "She wan'ed to kill me firs', ya know?" She begins to whisper, sounding like that same two year old little girl as she asks, "Di-did you know that?"

"I did, Lisa, I am sorry. Only, please go home and we can talk about this,"

She suddenly hangs up the phone without speaking another word.

♕♕♕

Bright lights flash from above and music pounds in his ears as Tony Stark pushes through the dancing people. It's been years since he's been to a club and he never thought he'd be back, and God, never because of this, never because of her. He'd been panicked out of his mind when she went missing yesterday and, being told by everybody that she hadn't been back, he was thinking up all sorts of terrible scenarios of what might have happened to her. Then the payphone gave him a general location and then FRIDAY found her on a live stream of some dumb kid's phone in a club in the middle of the city. He didn't tell anyone. Maybe he should have. It would probably have been nice to have some backup at the moment.

Who knows if she'll even listen to him?

Tony stops as he reaches the front edge of the crowd, watching up at the smokey stage with a slightly agape mouth. Lisa Stark stands amidst the haze before them all, laughing and stumbling around as she clutches both a cigarette and a microphone in one hand.

Lisa looks a mess.

Her eyes are underlined with dark circles, even though her heavy makeup tries to cover it. Her deep dark red lipstick is messily applied and her centimeter thick black eyeliner makes her blue eyes look even more tired than normal. Even from where he stands, Tony can smell she reeks of alcohol as if the girl has drowned herself in it. She's not wearing shoes, not even she knows where they've gone. Her dark hair is moving into her face and she keeps trying to flick it back only for it to fall right back into place. She seems to be in the middle of some kind of speech and everyone is egging her on, loving this new side of Lisa Stark that they've never seen before.

Tony has never seen this side of Lisa before.

He's never seen his little girl get even close to drinking a drop of alcohol, especially considering the fact she knows it's a problem in the family. From Howard to Tony, it's been this sort of disease that Lisa was seemingly immune to. Tony guesses he must have been wrong. How could he have allowed himself to not be aware of this? How could he have let her down like this? How could he have expected that his weaknesses wouldn't have passed down to her?

And this is all not even to mention the fact that Lisa's always so careful about herself in front of people, bordering even on shy most of the time. She blossoms in private conversations with people she trusts. She's terrified of places like these. His daughter is perceptive and wise and good. She's never been this before. This thing that she reminds him of is himself from so many years ago. And it terrifies him.

The girl's eyes suddenly find her father still staring and a grin cracks on her tired face while she excitedly waves, "H-He-eey! 'I'ss Tony S-Stark!"

The crowd shouts in excitement, their eyes hurriedly finding the billionaire standing among them.

Tony ignores everyone around, choosing to yell up to his daughter instead, "What are you doing?! Get down here now!"

"'M gettin' drunk!" She lazily replies before she cheers along with the rigorous crowd, puckering out her lips and bobbing her head.

"You're getting drunk?!" Tony repeats, yelling as he tries to be heard, "Honey, you are already drunk!"

"No. Wha," she looks around thoughtfully, "Ooh God, ha, I thin' I'm,"

He stares at her for a long moment, completely shocked at what he's seeing. She's not this. She's never been this. After giving him a nearly smug smile, Lisa throws her head back and takes another long swig of her bottle. She suddenly pulls the rim of the bottle from her lips and uses all of her body to hurl the glass thing away. This sudden movement causes a disaster in her balance and she sways to and fro unsteadily. Tony winces in worry and he holds his hands up slightly as if he could catch her from this distance.

"Lisa,"

At the sound of him calling her name, she immediately closes her eyes and bobs her head to the still pounding music.

"Lisa! Hey!" Tony snaps his thumb and forefinger, making the girl look boredly over at him, "Stop it. Now." He moves up a few of the stage steps towards her, "It's time to go."

The audience boos and yells out their various disagreements.

"Ya know, Daddio, yer right! Yer right again!" She giggles insanely, throwing up a dramatic hand, "Say bu-bye ladies and gents to the greeEAAT Lis-sa Stark!"

While still shaking his head, Tony sighs in relief and stretches a hand out to her, "Yeah, that's good, awesome, come on, let's go."

The girl then stops her wavering trek, speaking louder to explain her sudden stop, "Wai' a mo', wanna assk me why though?! Hm?! 'Cause 'M not Lisa Stark. Nopes, I jus' got myself married," the girl laughs thickly as Tony's face drains of color, "to, um, to," her eyes narrow in confusion as she stumbles around, trying to remember, "that one, I thin'?"

As Tony sends a dark and horrified glare over, Michael Allen gives the woman an acknowledging nod and a strange smirk. He looks just as drunk as she is. He didn't mean for it to go this far. It wasn't exactly his plan. But it'll do. It'll do just fine.

"Honestly don' even 'member," Lisa laughs, holding her abdomen as if it the funniest thing that has ever happened, "I don' 'member any of it!" She throws a trembling hand out to Tony and hoarsely says, "But, hey, 'M just like my daddy, right?!"

Tony doesn't speak, his throat too tight to even think about it.

"No, no, 'cause see, Ton-eee, you once told-told me somethin'. 'M not sure you'd 'member that 'cause you are gettin' old," Tony pulls an unamused face and she drunkenly trips to the side, "but you told that yer always right and that," she sniggers, pressing her first four fingers to her mouth, "is right!"

Glancing over the length of his shoulder, Tony scowls and snatches at a nearby person's filming phone before chucking it across the room.

"Hey!" The idiot yells in irritation.

"My point?! Yes! You were righ' when you said that I's doomed to make the sssame mistakes as you. Doomed," she cackles before her lips quiver from her stupid grin and she looks at him with broken eyes, "Doomed."

Tony turns back to his daughter, motioning his fingers towards her, "Come on. You don't need this, Lisa, come on."

"Aha! Ding, ding! Grand wrize pinner! Yer right again, Sir! Again, again, again! I don' need this," she suddenly then turns an accusational finger upon the crowd with a dark glare as they begin booing again in offense, "I don't need you, or you," she points from her 'husband' to her father, "or you, or you, you, you! I don't need anybody!"

The audience yells at her.

"Alright, that's enough." Tony jogs up the steps, grabbing onto the mic before she can say anything more.

She doesn't even fight as he wraps one arm around her waist and his other hand grabs around her wrist. He pulls the drunk woman from the stage and roughly guides her down the steps. With the most frightening glare he can conjure, Tony looks over at the man who drunkenly married his daughter.

Michael Allen shakes his head, sobering as a smirk comes onto his face, "I wanted you to pay."

Tony's eyes darken in both fury and confusion of what the man could mean, "You'll be getting served papers within the next twenty-four hours."

Michel just scoffs up a chuckle, turning away as he takes another shot.

The audience boos and yells in disapproval as Tony continues guiding the dazed girl through the club. With that same lingering glare, he slams them through the front door and they step out into the dark and raining night.

"Come on," Tony continues to pull her away from the club and those that linger outside, hoping to get her away before any more reporters show up.

"What're you doing?" Lisa snaps as if just realizing what's going on, "Lemme go!"

"I'm taking you home."

"H-How did you fin' me? How'dya know? Wanda told you?"

"What? Wanda knew?" Tony's eyes grow large as irritation with the other girl comes out in his tone.

"Wha'? Wanda? Who?" Lisa squints at him, trying not to get her friend into trouble and failing so miserably at hiding it that it makes her father roll his eyes.

"T'Challa called me and I traced your last location and then FRIDAY found you." He tells her, still trying to guide her somewhat writhing body towards the car.

The girl's face turns a fiery red as anger bursts in her chest, "T'Challa told on me?!"

Tony gives her an aggravated look, "T'Challa told on you; how old are you? God." He scoffs and shakes his head, "Let's get you home."

"No, jus' s-stop!" Lisal screams loudly, suddenly tearing her body from his hold, "Dad, jus' stop! Jus' find..." She throws her hand around, stumbling a little, "somebody else!"

"What are you talking about?!" Tony yells slowly, bending his knees and throwing his hands out in demonstration, "You're drunk, Lisa! You're not making any sense!"

"I'm making perfect sense!" Lisa screams back deeply, "Go fin' some-somebody else to be your perfect poster child." She bares her teeth, giving him a scathing look as she bites out, "I'm done! I'm so sick and tired... I'm not, I can't..." She gasps in, her feet tripping a little, "Just go replace me! Just like ever'body else does!"

"Replace you?!" Tony's brows bend in, jabbing a hand to his forehead, "What are you talking about, Lisa?"

The rain stains her face and she steps closer with a scowl, sobering as the words cut out, "Did you know?!"

Tony grinds out in angered exasperation, "Know what?"

"About my brother!"

The rain continues to pour and Tony wonders maybe if her words got cut off by some of the droplets from above. A thousand different scenarios flash through his mind and fear finds him. A brother? Lisa has a brother? Another kid? Oh God, he has another kid out there? Cameras flash from behind, but neither of them can see the bright white lights. They just see each other. Both broken people. Both people who need to be protected. Who deserve to be happy. But they're not going to be happy, it's not in the cards.

Tony shakes his head, stepping closer as he breathily asks, "Your what?"

"Did you know that Janice had another kid?! Did you?" She screams ragefully, "Did you?!"

Tony just shakes his head once more, not speaking as he watches her with a cautious expression.

"Five years after I was born, Janice had another child," Lisa gives a bitter laugh before her voice grows thick with emotion, "This beautiful, perfect baby boy. She never ever touched a pretty little hair on his pretty little head! He wasn't frail... And me?" Her voice raises back up in a hoarse rage, "And me?!"

Tony doesn't speak, forcing himself to watch as his daughter falls apart before his eyes, knowing he can't do anything to save her now. He knows better than anybody. After all, he's been in her place before.

"Sh-She beat me! I screamed for her to s-stop, but she jus' kept doing it! She let men do horrible, horrible thin's to me and, and, she put her hands around my throat," Lisa's hands find her own neck as her voice chokes out, "and she squeezed and squeezed and squeezed...

"And then she left me in a dumpster to die, leavin' me like, like nothing!" Tears stream down her face and she shakes her head desperately, "And her son? Her perfect, not frail, unbreakable baby? She loved him and cherished him and held him!

That file, the stupid, stupid stupid file showed that she was here, you know?! It had video shots of her! She was 'ere! She was in this city, she walked these streets, that murderer was here! Do you even understand how sick that thought makes me?! And, oh yeah, let'ss not forget that the file showed all the different ways that woman fought for him! She tried so hard to keep him!" She gasps in quickly, shaking her head again, "'M just so angry! I'm just so furious! What more did she want from me?! I would have done anything."

Tony nods at her, trying to make her see that he understands as tears of his own fall.

She fights a sob, clenching her hands into fists as she stumbles and looks down to the ground, "I would have done anythin' she wanted, God, just why?! Why was I abandoned? I-I don't understand! God! I jus' don't understand." Her voice breaks and she fights the tears, "How could, how could she have one child that she would kill for and another child that she has tried to kill?"

Her father stands across from her, all of the anger and the rage he felt towards his daughter having completely disappeared.

There is some pain that a person can never heal from.

And this one is Lisa's.

"What's wrong with me, Dad?" She asks with such a plea in her voice, only wanting to know the answer so she can try to fix herself for them, "What's so wrong with me?"

She careens back and ends up on the ground with her legs bent out beside her. She struggles to get up, but she slips within the puddles of water and she ends up on her hands and knees. Tony quickly crouches down, resting a hand on her arm as the rain continues to pour. His brown eyes look around at the crowd that still watches on as if this isn't someone's life, as if this isn't someone's breaking point, as if this is merely television. Tony doesn't have enough hatred to spare to glare at them; he only leans down and gently pulls his daughter's soaked mess of hair to his chest.

"Nothing, Lisa." He nods a little, glancing down at her as he lets out a breath of air, "Nothing is wrong with you. You're... God, Lisa, you're perfect... alright?"

She grits her teeth and shakes her head, closing her eyes to the bright lights of the cameras that just keep flashing.

"It's okay, it's okay, it's okay," Tony tries to comfort her as he always has, using the same words that she used to lie to herself with.

"Stop! For once in my life, I want the truth!" She seethes and tries to catch his gaze, "Look at me, look at me!"

"I am looking at you, Lees." He nods a little, swallowing the lump in his throat, "I am."

She scoffs angrily, "Then stop lying to me! Stop telling me for five seconds that things are all gonna work out okay because, God, it's not! It's not! Nothin' is okay! Nothing is ever going to be okay!"

"Okay! Okay, okay, you're right, nothing is okay," he nods quickly, trying to calm her.

She suddenly pushes herself away from him, looking up at him with her beautifully agonized and tear-stained blue eyes, "Why didn't they love us, Dad? Why? Why weren't we good enough for them?"

The man lets out a quick breath before nodding in understanding.

Her chest wracks with a sob and her slowly shaking head drops as her bruised fists drop angrily to the tarmac. Tony lifts up on one knee, repositioning her to him once more.

He presses her head to his chest, just holding her this way as he repeats over and over, "I know, I know, I know."

... Is an apology enough? It doesn't feel like enough. I promise you, this was a necessary step. How about Michael Allen? He's going to be important next book, especially, I promise. And how about Lisa completely losing her mind? Wasn't that awful? Don't be too hard on our girl, okay? Just put yourself in her shoes and, man, we'd all be messes.

Now that I've destroyed the entire L'Challa ship, we can maybe start to rebuild again... More plot twists and disasters to be expected as Civil War appears on the horizon. I apologize for this chapter, but please DO COMMENT! It encourages me in ways you can't even imagine. Life has been a bit hard recently and it makes my day with each comment. Thanks for sticking with me!

Funny Thingamabob: (in honor of Civil War as it approaches)

Stan Lee not caring what side for Civil War. Summation: Stan Lee not giving a crap about their crap