all the pain of yesterday.

The only reason Olivia dared to leave the safety of her apartment was that she was hungry. Tummy rumbling, salivating, 'I'm gonna die if I don't eat right this second' hungry. There was nothing in her fridge, save for a yogurt that had expired six months ago. She didn't feel like getting food poisoning, so the only choice was to leave her little den and venture out into the world for takeout.

"Come on, Liv. It's just Chipotle. You can do this." Olivia spoke, looking in the rearview mirror as she gave herself a pep talk. She took a deep breath and stepped out of her car, locking the door behind her. The tiny now-brunette quickly walked into Chipotle and joined the line of people. Being around this many people made her nervous. Sure, she had to deal with people at school-- but only very few. That was the very reason she chose night classes. Olivia pulled her phone out of her pocket and began going through it to avoid talking to the people around her. The last time she was around this many people, she and all of her coworkers were falling out of the sky while a demigod tried to kill them-- and succeeded in killing her father.

Olivia finally stepped up to the counter to order. "C-can I get a chicken burrito with black beans and sour cream, please?" She asked, almost surprised by the sound of her own voice.

It was taking everything left of Tony to make it through the crowd of reporters without screaming out his frustration, or throwing things, something he'd had quite a lot of practice in. Happy was blocking them and helping him move through the dense crowd as best as he could, but he was still being jostled from all sides. He could feel the multiple breaks to his ribs and the deep laceration that's been hastily stitches by the medics all flair hot, the pain just on this side of unbearable, his not as severe wounds just giving his a soft twinge.

He followed along blindly, the sheer exhaustion of being up for thirty-seven hours before flying off to join in a battle to save man kind from the villainous flavour of the week making him lax and unwilling to even put up the public front he'd carefully honed. He ducked under Happy's arm as he held the door open, easily slipping inside and walking up to the counter, ignoring the other's in line as he leaned heavily against the counter top. He could hear complaints coming from behind him, and he waved a hand at the retorts.

"Two steak burritos, both with white rice and black beans, cheese, sour cream and red-chili sauce, two orders of the chips with guacamole, and four margaritas. Happy, you want anything?" He asked, knowing the man was standing close behind him and he turned his head just in time to see the barely perceptible negative shake. "Pay for all the nice people's meals while you're at it," he continued, patting Happy on the chest as he shuffled a little ways over to allow the flow of the line to resume.