Like Father, Like Daughter

Chapter Three: Panic Attack

Thalia's POV

I end up crashing in an alley for the night. It's a good alley, as far as alleys go. There's a nice side-door halfway in that's deep enough to provide protection both from social services and the impending rain. There's even a little awning over the door for extra shelter. Home sweet home, at least for tonight.

"Titanium?" says a familiar voice.

I crack my eyes open reluctantly, grouchy at being disturbed from my sleep. When I realize who the voice belongs to, I swear loudly. Tony Stark is standing over me, looking concerned as he watches me drool onto the asphalt of this dank alleyway with one of my battered old Vans stuck in a wad of gum.

"Crap." I scramble to my feet. "Crap crap crap." He found me. How did he find me? Is he going to turn me in to social services?

"You're sleeping in an alley," Tony says quietly.

"Am I?" I look around myself. "Huh. I had no idea."

"Don't you have anywhere to go?" he asks. A crease forms between his eyebrows, so I can tell he already knows the answer.

"Yeah, I got bored of my penthouse apartment, so I decided to hang out here for a while to take my mind off things." 

I'm being a bitch, but Tony deserves my sarcasm right now. He knows I'm a runaway. He can probably guess why. He's seen the bruises.

A shadow falls across Tony's face. "You shouldn't be out here," he says. "It's cold. And rainy. It's going to be dark soon."

I want to insist that I'm fine, that it isn't that cold and the rain will stop eventually and it's only five o' clock so I have a while until the sun actually sets for real. Now that I'm looking around though, I have to admit it's pretty dark and cold. If possible, I think it's gotten darker and colder just since Tony and I started talking. And it's getting darker and colder by the minute...

"Tony," I say in a small voice. "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

Tony swears loudly and whirls around just as a hooded figure appears around the corner of the alley, blocking our exit. The figure is tall and slender, dressed entirely in black. Any part of their face that isn't hidden by the hood is obscured by shadows. The only identifying factor I can see is the long, jet black hair spilling out from underneath the figure's hood.

The most terrifying part is the darkness.

Now, I've seen a lot of shit go down in my life, so I don't deal in irrational fears of things like spiders or the dentist or blood. But if I did have one paralyzingly irrational fear (which I don't), it would be the dark. Being in the dark makes me think of being home alone with Darrell. If I did anything to provoke him, or even sometimes if I didn't, he would back me into the darkened basement...as I think of it, I can still feel the cold cement floor of the basement under my shaking hands as Darrell's fist comes down again, and again, and again...