Okay, to start, I have no clue what I am getting myself into. I gave up on my two other fics because one was funny, but not going anywhere, and I did not like how the other one was written. If you do not like Loki that is perfectly fine, because he probably won't be as crazy as he was in the Avengers. On we go.

This story is somewhat after Nevermore, except in this one Fang never came back, Dylan is here, Total is, Maya is dead and Angel is still currently missing. This is lightly pre-Avengers and mostly during Avengers.

I did not remember specific dates in the movie so if I'm wrong about the months, don't kill me.

Disclaimer: I absolutely, positively do not own the rights to any movie produced or a published book.

Lost Between Miserable and Wary

Max's POV, sort of:

It was cold. Max was trying to make sure that this was the only thought she had as she held the notebook of loose papers with shaky hands. Max kept repeating the words in her head, its cold, it is November and it is cold, it is November, I'm in the middle of New York City, and it is cold. Max started to make a game out of this, each time referring to the temperature became more and more specific until she came to the conclusion that, it is November, I'm in the middle of New York City, there is snow dusting the ground, icicles are hanging from roofs, kids are bundled in thick coats, and it is cold. I hate the cold, was Max's final thought.

No matter how impressive Max's efforts in distracting her own self were, she could not forget her mission. This mission was not like her normal ones though, she was not out to steal secret files from the School, she was not on a mission for blood, hell, Max wasn't even on a simple mission to analyze her whereabouts for possible dangers. She was on a mission to leave behind her broken heart. You see, Max was twenty-eight years old now. She hasn't seen her mother or Ella in thirteen years. Angel, to her knowledge, has been dead for thirteen years. Fang? It has been thirteen years since he effectively tore out her heart. Sure, Fang mangled it pretty bad when he left with only a letter to take his place, but when she had seen that her clone had replaced her, that hurt more than Max could ever imagine words to be capable of describing.

You probably still have no clue about what a notebook full of scattered papers could possibly have to do with Max's broke heart, right? Well, these papers contained memories. Inside this notebook lies the very same letter Fang left her when he told her that they shouldn't be together, only now it was tearstained, one edge was ripped off, and it looked to have come from an unpreserved ancient text, having been kept tightly in her pocket on bad days for far too many battles. She used to look at it to remind herself that he might still love her, he may be waiting for her at the cliff seven years from now, but time had a tendency of making the idea appear less and less likely.

Another paper contained her mom's recipe for chocolate chip cookies. Although it seemed senseless to destroy, it reminded Max of her mother far too much to continue to look at, remembering that since her mom left when Jeb did, there is that slight chance that her mother was a traitor it was impossibly painful to think of. Her mom had given her a few more papers all the same slightly before leaving; they were medical files that Dr. Martinez had made at her house. One for the time she had treated Max's bullet wound and another from when she had removed the chip that was found in Max's arm. The second one had a small note on it that said, "Doesn't take well with Valium, slightly alters personality." The last part was written in as a joke, but Max had never found it quite funny, Fang on the other hand laughed at her expense when he saw it.

In memory of Ella? Letters that Max did not know existed until four years ago. When Max came across them she had been going through a box of Ella's old things, to organize and preserve in case her half-sister came back. Max had no clue they existed and each was addressed to, "somewhere in the sky". She read all the letters until two o'clock the next morning. She felt as if she knew a side of her sister that previously didn't exist. She loved Ella, but she never realized just how deep her sister was. Reading through the letters had made Max cry, laugh, smile, and then cry all over again. She loved these letters, but knowing Ella wasn't coming back tore at her heart and reading them made it no better.

What about Angel? It was as if her baby never existed. Max did not have an item left to Angel's name. The little girl she had raised was dead and there was nothing of hers to try and let go of except the shoe they found in the city she had died, which Gazzy kept with him wherever they moved to and from. Max felt as if her heart would rip in two thinking of her baby, killed in an explosion.

Of course, Max was not thinking about this at the moment, she was thinking about how much she hated the damned cold weather. The fact she was only wearing a t-shirt, windbreaker, skinny jeans, and her classic combat boots was not helping. Max had reached her destination three minutes ago; she was finally at the large pond near the edge of New York City. Max sat down in the grass, she had very unceremoniously plopped to the ground and then sprawled out her limbs in every direction they could go. Could I do it? Max thought to herself, the notebook clutched tightly in one hand. The young women thought for three minutes before dragging her body off the ground and to the edge of the lake. She winded her arm back as if to throw the memories into the pond and the arm stayed there for three minutes before she brought it down, for the third time this week, with tears in her eyes. I can't do this, she thought, this is all I have left of them.

Do not interpret this wrong. Max is not weak. She could take down thirty Erasers in five minutes flat and she has infiltrated more secret facilities than you could count with the two-hundred and six bones of your adult body, all of which she could break. Even the strongest have their breakdowns though, and the past two months have been the first for Max since finding Ella's letters. The man who silently came, or was simply unnoticed, had no way of knowing this though.

"Pathetic Midgardians."

Now the lovely Max, who many know for lacking social tact, turned around-not before wiping the tears out of her eyes-and snarled out her response to the man.

"I don't know what you said, but that is just rich. Insulting someone when you look like you just came from some glorified Renaissance fair."

Max took in the appearance of the man a bit closer, trying to come up with something to comment on since she knew nothing of him; she was disappointed to come to the conclusion that he could be deemed as handsome. That was about Max's equivalent of thinking he looked like a model. He had pale skin (even more so than Iggy's), black hair, and high cheekbones. Max took all this in using three seconds before realizing he had her notebook (she must have dropped it) in his hands, which he was gesturing with as if to give to her. Max stared at it dumbly before realizing he was trying to get her to take it.

"Thank-you," Max mumbled, not being the type who enjoyed using manners.

The man smiled at this, noticing her discomfort. She grabbed the notebook quickly. Before he even had the chance to say something else to her she was walking away, long powerful strides creating distance quickly. Max was pretty far away from him before she shouted out, without looking back.

"Seriously, try leaving the helmet at home next time you go out in public."

Max did not have the slightest clue about how lucky she was not to get killed with her back turned, she was very lucky indeed that Loki was deep in thought, trying to decipher how the crying girl could change personalities before he had the chance to blink.

I don't know if I want to leave this as a one-shot or turn it into a full out LokixMax story now, what do you all think? I was originally planning to do a story, but I like this as it is too.