#and a part of him can't help but be euphoric that tony is back for good. that he gets to keep him. yeah

[persephonesfill]

omg re your angsty fic idea

DOES TONY COME BACK WRONG? or does tony come back right and steve is the one who's all wrong?? i'm kicking the ceiling

i think tony comes back wrong but in the sense that he was finally able to rest, only to have that ripped away from him as he's transported back to the land of the living. i think steve tries to move on and even makes some progress (*cough* suppression *cough*) but as soon as he sees tony again, alive and literally gift-wrapped by the infinity stones, all of those emotions come rushing back.

[timeaftertime-chriscornellfanfic]

Chapter 4 - Disappearing One

Toronto Ontario Canada, January 31 1972

Andi

"But John this is crazy... there's got to be some way to explain this,"

"Cathy, just relax. Andrea's  fine see? She's in her playpen, no harm done,"

"But I swear she wasn't there a second ago,"

The sound of my mother's voice filled with worry, echo throughout the living room as my father desperately tries to explain just where I've been for the last 8 minutes. If there was a way that I could explain with actual words, since I can't quite make out full sentences yet, I would just tell my mother that I was only just upstairs but 1 year before this current time.

Yes, I know it probably sounds crazy, and completely confusing so allow me to explain.

Ever since I can remember, which is pretty far back mind you, I've somehow been able to slip through time. I still can't quite put my finger on what actually causes me to do so but it's usually only for just a few minutes. As I got older, the length of time that I would slip increased from just a few minutes, hours to eventually days and weeks, even years.

Now I know what you're thinking... "How does one slip through time?"

It should be easy to explain the process but really, unless you've experienced it yourself it's hard to explain just exactly what happens. At first it feels like the most euphoric sensation you can think of. Like you're purely at peace with yourself, like nothing else in the world means anything anymore. Then it changes to nausea and dizziness like you just drank a 40 of Jack Daniels so fast it could make your head spin. Then, just like that, everything goes black and suddenly I'm somewhere else, naked and alone, trying to find clothes, shelter anything to protect myself.

When I was younger and I would time slip, most of the time I would just end up somewhere else in the house only it could be either 30 minutes before, or as far back as actually seeing my mother pregnant with me.

Yes I have gone back in time and met myself before. It's not a regular occurrence mind you, but It's pretty much how I taught myself to pick locks when I needed to and find the right places to hide if I so happened to end up in the middle of a sticky situation. Most of the time I was alright though. Most people, when they see a naked girl on the street, they try to help as much as they can rather than the opposite so for that I'm thankful.

Now I know most people would think "Well how the hell does that happen? What about the grandfather effect, the butterfly effect and all the other effects of nature that rule against the fact that you can go back in time?"

Well to tell you the truth, I don't know. It's not something I can explain. I can only say that I've only ever been able to travel as far back within my own life time. I can't go back and see the amazing symphonies that Beethoven wrote nor, go back as far to stop World War 2.

Meeting a your future self is something that's amazing and strange at the same time. Every time it would happen, my younger self always knew it was my older self. My older self knew not to tell my younger self about the future, but gave me useful tools like lock picking so that I could protect myself. I was very careful at not disrupting anything that could alter my future for the worse. And... like I said, it was very few and far between that I met up with myself anyways.

"Cathy, I think you're just imagining it,"

"John, I know what I saw. I set Andrea in her playpen turned around to grab her bottle and when I turned back she was gone,"

My father then walks over to me, his boots thudding against the hardwood floor. He picks me up, brushing a few curls out of my face while I smile at him and he places a kiss on my little forehead. Leaning into him, I giggle, resting my head on his shoulder, my little fingers playing with the shaggy curls of his dark golden hair that rest just at his shoulders, and that familiar smell of Aqua Velva after shave filling my nostrils with delight.

"What were you up to baby girl?"

His deep voice vibrates through my little frame and all I could manage was a giggle.

"Daaaady," I manage with my little voice and he chuckles placing another kiss on my forehead.

I think for the most part, my father was in denial of the whole thing. I know it frightened him to no end at the fact that his only daughter disappears for moments at a time, with no explanation and no reasoning and then re-appears as if nothing had ever taken place.

He sets me back down in my playpen and I continue on with playing with my little stuffies without a care in the world.

"John, I think we should take her to see Dr. Fresno... maybe he can figure out what going on,"

"Cathy, she's still so young, she's only 2 years old, I don't even know if a neurologist is going to even see anything wrong,"

"Are you kidding? John, it's been happening more frequent than you realize... but wait, you're hardly ever here with us so it makes sense why you're in such denial over it,"

Oh the inevitable arguing. They argue over everything and it always seems that my father is the one to blame. My mother always bringing up the fact that he was never home, that he was always on the road travelling with his band Steel Gates - a sort of Black Sabbath/MC5 hybrid- playing bars and clubs never bringing in any real money. I for one love my father's music. It's so real and the way he can play, I swear he was like the next Tony Iommi.

"Ok well, I gotta head out here and meet the guys at The Edge... are you meeting me later on?" My father says walking away from me and towards my mother, who just stands there with her arms crossed.

"No, I have Andrea to look after,"

"I told you, you can bring her... you know she loves it when she's around the band,"

She just stands there and glances back at me with her arms still crossed, reluctant to even say goodbye to him, even if it's just for a few hours. 

With that, he hesitates for a moment, as I laugh and giggle playing with my little furry friends, then leans in to place a kiss on my mother's temple though she still doesn't look at him. He then turns and grabs his leather jacket, slipping it on as his boots thud against the hardwood floor.

"Ok, well I'll be home later on tonight," His voice deep as he heads out the door, leaving my mother watching me as I play.

******

Toronto Ontario Canada, June 13 1976

"Ok sweetie, now place your fingers here, here and... here,"

"Like this daddy?" I ask looking at the fret board of my amber burst VOS guitar with a white pick guard, my dark little curls falling in my face.

"Uh huh, now strum,"

I scrunch up my face as I try to hold the strings down with my fingers, my father sitting across from me with his own Cherry Burst Gibson SG across his lap, reaching over and helping me place my fingers where they should be. I start to strum and the oddest sound emits from the amp but once I'm able to adjust my fingers perfectly, the beautiful distortion bellows through the amp.

"Yea... alright now put them all together... like this," My father smiles as he starts to play the three chords in succession like he showed me and I follow along with him as we play together.

I had been learning to play guitar from my father for the last few months since we discovered that music seems to calm the time slip episodes down. My mother insisted that we see Dr. Fresno to see just what exactly is causing the time slips and though my father reluctantly agreed to, he did eventually see that it was a good thing that I was seen by a neurologist.

I've been diagnosed with a neurological disorder - time displacency -not an actually medical term I know but there's never been a case quite like mine before. After some testing, Dr. Fresno discovered that it's a relation to epilepsy but is also triggered by a multitude of emotions, especially if I feel stressed or anxious. It can happen either consciously or subconsciously and when it does, a seizure will take place inside my brain at the exact moment, somehow causing a time slip. At first, the doctor did prescribe medication - the type that helps with epileptic seizures - but that was no use. I was still time slipping. Possibly even worse than before.

Nothing seemed to really work until one day I was in my father's studio  - I was 5 years old at the time -and I walked up to Cherry Burst Gibson SG, and started to play with the strings while it sat on the stand. I've always loved his Cherry Burst Gibson and when he noticed just how attached I became to that guitar, he got me one of my own for my 6th birthday - well not a Gibson but it looked exactly like one - so that I could practice with him. He was amazed at how quickly I was learning Chords and strumming for only being 6 years old.

"...ok now change... good... now D...." He smiles as he watches me keep up with him though I keep my eyes glued to my fingers making sure I was changing to the right chord properly. Then he starts to improvise on his own, playing a little solo part while I continue to strum and I look up at him and laugh.

"Wait daddy wait... I wanna do that," I giggle and he smiles at me.

"Alright sweetie go ahead..." He chuckles and I attempt to try to improvise but everything sounds completely out of tune. I scrunch my face up again and stop but my father continues to urge me on.

"I'm not really good at that," I say and he chuckles a little.

"Andrea it's alright... just keep going, you'll get it," He smiles at me. We continue to play, with him teaching me some more and after a little while I hear my mother come down the stairs.

"Andrea, your lunch is ready," She calls and I set my guitar down back on it's stand beside me.

"You coming with me daddy?" I ask.

"No sweetie, you go on ahead, I've got to work on some stuff down here," He says sweetly as he sets his guitar back down on it's stand.

"Ok... um... can I come back down when I'm done?" I ask.

"Of course you can sweetie, you know that," He chuckles and pulls me into him and starts tickling me. I begin to laugh and squeal as he laughs as well, then eventually letting me go but not before placing a kiss on the top of my head.

"I love you daddy,"

"I love you too baby," 

*****

Toronto Ontario Canada,  May 15 1985

"Damn it John, I can't do this with you anymore! I told you this is it! You need to leave!"

"Babe - "

"Don't 'Babe' me. It's done! It's over now just get the hell outta here!"

It was the middle of the night and I wake from my sleep hearing voices coming from downstairs. I push the covers off me and quietly get out of bed, rubbing my eyes to rid the sleep as my dark curls fall down around me. Once I reach the hallway, I can hear my mother screaming at my father from the front door.  As much as you think you get used to hearing your parents fight, you never really do. This time though, it was different.

"Cathy just hear me out ok? It was nothing, it meant nothing - "

"No! Don't fucking touch me! I want you outta here! Just get the fuck outta here!"

I quietly sit myself down on the top of the staircase as I listen to their fight. Even though I was still half asleep, I could feel this strange feeling deep inside my chest. I could hear my father pleading with my mother but she was not giving in. There were so many times before when they fought, that I just brushed it off, not letting it affect me. They were never terribly mean to each other, such as calling each other names or anything from what I  remember, but this time like I said, was different. My mom was just letting it all out calling him everything that you could think of and it makes me wonder just what he did to make her so angry. If he did anything at all.

The strange feeling in my chest grew as he continued to plead with her but she still wouldn't give in. Moments later I hear the front door slam and my mother quietly crying. She then appears at the bottom of the stairs and as she takes a few steps she sees me sitting at the top.

"Andrea, what... what are you doing?" She asks looking away wiping away a tear. I say nothing as she looks back up at me.

"I'm sorry you... heard all that... I didn't mean to - "

"Don't mom, just don't," I say trying to hold my tears back, though I'm not sure why I'm feeling like I need to cry in the first place.

"Andrea - "

She starts but I rise from the stairs and turn to make my way back to my room.

"Andrea honey..." She says as I hear her voice breaking while she attempts to hold back her tears.

"Don't! Just leave me alone," I say, still not recognizing my own voice, hearing myself begin to cry as I hear my mother following behind me. I've never felt like this after they've argued. I've always been able to push the feeling away. Shoving it down into the pit of my stomach and only release it when I play my guitar that my father gave me. This time it's different. I can feel my chest tighten and it feels like I can't breathe.

"Andrea - "

"Go away!" I exclaim and slam my bedroom door leaving her outside in the hallway. As much as I try to will this feeling away, I can feel it growing.

Why? What is this? Why does this hurt so much?

As I feel my heart begin to pick up pace, I close my eyes, standing in the middle of my dark bedroom surrounded with posters of Black Sabbath, Aerosmith, Ramones, and Motorhead, I start to feel euphoric, almost like an adrenaline rush, then completely at peace, then suddenly I feel dizzy and nauseous, like I'm about to vomit.

"Oh god," I exhale and suddenly there's a quick flash of light and everything goes completely black.

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