hot_rod:

A universe away

It was, all things considered, a good day to be one Stephanie "Stevie" Barton.  School was over and done with, she had a job she liked fixing cars (even discounting the money in her trust fund), Mom was off her back about doing more with her life for the moment (though the promise of a couple of business courses in the winter semester also seemed to at least temporarily placate Antonia Stark).  She'd managed to survive a shopping trip with MC (and reluctantly would admit she'd picked up a few good things on the trip too).  William Blake, the extremely hot son of Donald "I used to be Thor" Blake and Jane Foster was still her primary friend with benefits.  She had parts for the hot rod she was restoring coming in in the next couple of days.

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fullmoonfever:

Greg stepped off the small stage and headed for the bar. The final set was over and he had the rest of the night free. A friend of his had called earlier in the evening and asked if he wanted to sit in on drums for a friend of his. Greg was getting known as the go to guy when a band member bailed at the last second.

Greg didn't mind. He liked playing and when he wasn't playing he sat in clubs and watched others play. The extra cash didn't hurt at all, but cash wasn't something that Greg paid much attention to. Music had become his life's passion and thankfully he had the means to pursue it.

Mac's was was pretty full, Greg managed to find an empty bar stool and slid onto it. He motioned to the bartender and a moment later a glass of Scotch was set in front of it. He wanted a smoke, but the stupid city had banned smoking in all bars and restaurants. After his drink he'd go outside to have a quick smoke.

anyastark:

Each day wasn’t any easier than the one before it. In fact it could be said each day that passed was harder than the one before it. Each day since Steve had disappeared had been hell and every single one seemed to last for a year. The day had gone from one of celebration to one of her world shattering into a million pieces.

Anya had been taken into SHIELD custody not long after Steve had vanished. Or she thought it hadn’t been long. All sense of time passing had disappeared since he vanished. They questioned her and she told them about the fight in the warehouse and how there was another Steve Barton. She told them about the fight and how they both disappeared.

She wasn’t sure if they bought her story or not, but they had nothing to hold /her/ on except the little thing about escaping from SHIELD custody. Mom had been the one to finally get her out of there and then she had to explain to her parents what had happened.

That wasn’t even the worst part.

Explaining to Clint and Bobbi what had happened was by far the worst. Anya had to tell them all that happened and that their son was now missing and it was Anya’s fault. Sure they said that she shouldn’t blame herself, her parents said the same thing, but no matter what anyone said it wouldn’t change the fact that it /had/ been her fault. She knew that Clint and Bobbi had to be thinking that if their son hadn’t gotten involved with her, this wouldn’t have happened.

Anya returned to Boston.

She locked herself away in her room. She refused to answer the door, the phone, text messages and emails. Contact with the outside world wasn’t wanted at this time and the only contact she had with anyone was an occasional text to Mom to let her know she was okay. It was a lie, but Mom understood and didn’t press. She knew Anya needed space and time and Anya was grateful.

She spent her days and nights lying on her bed staring at nothing in particular. She didn’t even know what day it was. The passage of time had no real meaning anymore. In her mind she relived memories of time with Steve and the tears would start again. There was a big helping of guilt to go along with the emptiness and sadness she felt.

She only ventured out in the middle of the night when everyone else was asleep for a few bites of something to eat and a glass of water. It was a struggle to get each bite of food down and it was even difficult to drink. She just didn’t feel like eating or anything else for that matter. She couldn’t even remember the last time she took a shower.

Sleeping was another thing she wasn’t doing. Every time she closed her eyes the nightmare would come. It was the same one each time. It was Steve asking her how could she possibly do this to him if she loved him so much and saying he wasn’t ever coming back. She woke up crying each time. Vodka was the only way she got any decent amount of sleep.

Notes from team members were slid under the door after the knocks were ignored. Anya didn’t bother to pick up the notes to look at them.

In her heart she wanted to believe so badly that Steve would return, but her head and evidence so far pointed to the contrary. Not one of the extra-dimensional visitors had managed to go home yet. Her brother, her sister, and a few of the X-kids, not a single one had managed to go home. Would it be the same for Steve? She desperately wanted to believe he would come back. Life without him was too unbearable to think about.

The thought prompted a fresh bout of crying. Anya curled up with a teddy bear as the tears started to fall.

son_of_hercules:

Following his conversation with Corey, Argo had spent quite a bit of time thinking. He was still uncertain what to do with the fan club (perhaps he could get them to transfer their attentions to Corey? The boy was currently without female companionship of his own and women liked artists, did they not? Yes, if it could be done, he decided this was the best plan, and a wonderful reward for his loyal worshiper), but he had, at least, resolved to do something about the rest of the situation.

The problem, of course, came in locating Harmony. It had become rather difficult of late to find the two of them in the Champions HQ for any significant stretch of time, or even in the same part of it when they were.

This would take cunning. ...Or possibly just sitting in the living room with an eye on the door. That plan was also good.