AN: I don't own Thor. But you already knew that. First fic of mine. Enjoy.

Jane Foster had never been particularly social.

She tried to please others but that often ended disastrously. When she was younger, she had tried to dress to impress her new friends at school. But that ended with her having been laughed at for her next years in that miserable elementary school. Apparently ribbons are only to be put in hair, and tutus are not for the torso. The biggest fashion no-no, she learned that day, was that one's underwear should remain…under. And hidden. Because if it wasn't, you'd be the laughing-stock for the rest of your grade school experience.

Jane lived with her uncle, Erik Selvig, a man of science. She adored him, but he never had time for her. But she rarely let that bother her, because in fact, there just weren't enough hours in the day. He'd tell her that, and she'd understand. That had been her life from age 4 to the tender age of 13, when by luck, she was accepted to a prestigious academy for "gifted" students, who as the normal kids at her junior high knew as the "nerdy freaks".

So, all alone, at 13, Jane had one suitcase with her when she got on her plane ride to New York City. She was to stay with a relative, someone she'd never met before. That relative might as well been a clone of her uncle, Jane later realized, because she, Jane's second cousin, Ms. Hill, was a 38 year old journalist, who lived on take-outs and Hollywood gossip, and also believed her 24 hours could not be shared with Jane.

Jane was never told what had become of her parents, but she had memories of being held and loved. She cherished them deeply. Just as much as she cherished the sky. Someone had made the mistake of telling Jane when she was 6 years old that the stars were actually people who had left the earth. Jane's logical conclusion was that the two the most closest stars together were her parents, and the one near them was her long lost twin she'll meet one day.

But then, in third grade, Nicolas Kane, one of her classmates, made an even bigger mistake of telling her that stars, in fact, were not dead people, but instead, were glow-in-the-dark balls that aliens had thrown away from their planets, after a big alien party.

Unfortunately, after registering that factual information, after crying in her closet out of frustration into the night, Jane hopped on Google and discovered that Nicolas was in fact a cuckoo. But then she found out what she didn't want to find out.

She was wrong too.

At first, she had done what any kid does when you tell them that Santa is a lie. She cried. Eventually she outgrew that and washed her face, and since then Google became her best friend and her worst enemy. After junior high, with the help of Google, and her lucky pencil, she applied for a scholarship to a private school, hidden in the deep forest of the buildings in New York City. She had always wanted to escape her small town in South Carolina. And once she made it to the city, she wanted to escape that too. It made her feel worthless, like a speck of dust, but barely.

But the worst part was that, other than the ones on the tabloids her aunt collects, there were no stars in New York City. And that's how, at the age of 28, after getting a couple degrees and working at lowly places, Jane ran away forever, to the reclusive state of New Mexico, to a remote desert town of Puerto Antigua, to be among the stars.

And even though all she had was her astrophysics degree and the stars, Jane Foster had never been happier.

Because she wasn't a social person anyway. Jane believed that she didn't need anyone.