CHAPTER 28

I cleaned myself up and went in search of James. Typically, I found him in the labs, what I didn't expect was that Cleo had him pushed up against a wall and was aggressively kissing him. I stopped abruptly, clenched my eyes shut, hoping that when I opened them that it'd just be a bad dream whipped up by the poison in my system.

I opened my eyes again and no such luck. Cleo was still noisily slurping at his mouth and it made me want to be sick. I gathered my fury and stormed in. "Hey slut!" I called, angry by the tears stinging at the edges of my eyes. I was so weak. "What the hell?"

"Lana-." James spoke suddenly, like he'd been caught in the act.

"What the fuck?" I snap at Cleo who doesn't even have the audacity to look embarrassed or ashamed. "First you fuck around with Nile, then Gale, and now James? Whose next? Your dad? Seems like your type." Well that felt incredible, saying that.

"Oh shut up Lana." Cleo sneers. "Not like you were going out with him or anything."

"Yes I was in fact." I snap.

"Well, not really Lana." James speaks softly. "You kind of pushed me aside, didn't even care."

My heart stops. I'm sorry James. I try to beg with my eyes, he looks away. I become angry again.

"Whore." I snap at Cleo. "Go work on Wall Street." I spin out of there, breathing heavily, tears stinging at the edges of my eyes. I need to find Nile and rant.

I pass the twins in the hallway. "Hey." I say weakly. They avoid eye contact with me and hurry on. "What the hell?" I mutter but continue walking.

I round a corner and see Nile, he's pacing. "Nile!" I practically cry. "I've been looking for you!"

"Really?" He seems bemused by this.

"Guess what I just found? Freaking Cleo and James making out like a whore and her client. Twins won't even talk to me and Dad's gone MIA. Ugh! I'm so freaking mad! James and I were together! Does she have no self-respect or something? Maybe they got her chemical mixture wrong." I laugh to myself then turn to Nile. "What do I do?"

"Uh, I've gotta run, everything will sort out." Nile gives me a quick smile before darting off.

Once I'm all alone, I cry out. "What the heck! Am I invisible or something?" With an aggravated sigh, I rub the balls of my hands into my eyes, there better not be any tears, or I swear...

I find myself sitting in the garage, in one of my favoured cars. I slip the key into the ignition and try turning it but the engine doesn't start. "What?" I whisper. "What the heck?"

"Mr. Stark has restricted you from accessing the cars."

"Well I'm already bloody accessing them so let me go!" I cry out. When there's only silence from FRIDAY I scream and hit the wheel of the car with my fists. I stand on the seat and jump over the door out of the convertible. "Tony can stick a fucking branding iron up his asshole." I spit and try to shadow-travel.

Well apparently, he's figured out wards to stop me from escaping too. Bloody wonderful.

I do it the old fashioned way; running up eighty or so flights of stairs with a healing bullet wound to the roof of the Avengers Tower. There's a slight wind and I stand on the edge. There's no barriers up here.

I need to get out of here for a while. Tony and everyone else can find me later.

I let my body tip over the edge of the rail and shadow-travel myself away before I begin to fall.

...

I find myself at Stark Mansion. The Stark Mansion. The one the Offspring hid in as a safehouse before Thanos, before my death, before things got really complicated. I note we haven't been to the Avengers Mansion lately.

I land in the front yard and spend my anger by throwing slices of Mist into the air. The lawn around me is sliced to almost nothing by the time I'm done.

I stumble inside, into the couch, softly pressing play on the last disk in there before collapsing on the couch. The opening scene from the Avengers flickers before my eyes. The words and movements I've memorised, long before any of this.

I didn't know at which point I fell asleep but I remember thinking about how I used to be such a fangirl and now, I'm telling my idol, my father, to stick a branding iron up his asshole.

I regret it, I really do, so I fall into a shallow and listless sleep upon the couch, tears still clinging to my face