A/N: In the movie-verse, this story takes place post Iron Man 2, post The Incredible Hulk, and post Thor...because in the comic-verse they all occur in one week.
She arrives home late Wednesday night, stumbling up the stairs and fighting to keep her eyes open. Six months she's been gone, yet she knows the way like the back of her hand.
Open the door. Three steps straight. Turn. Thirteen stairs. Two steps left. Ignore the looks from the people on the landing. Thirteen more stairs, two steps, and thirteen more. Turn and eight steps to the door.
The key goes in the lock and the old wood creaks and groans in protest.
Despite the darkness, she works her way easily around the furniture, tells herself she should be more cautious in the pitch black room but lacks the energy to follow through.
Her bed has never felt more comfortable and she thinks she should probably take off her shoes and maybe her coat.
She's asleep before her head hits the pillow and apartment lapses into silence.