Homeward Bound – Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers in any way.

Love.

What is love?

Not many could describe it, nor would many if they could. Love is something hard to understand, to define in terms that many would understand. To many, it would be affection that you have for another person, something profoundly tender and sweet. Or it could be personal attachment and deep affection that a parent would have for their child, their offspring. Or a sexual passion or desire felt for another; man or woman.

There are many terms and definitions to 'love'. But what makes love, love?

Is it the way a person would spend hours with their boyfriend, girlfriend, fiance, husband, wife, just to be with them? Is it the way they are showed how much they are loved by small things; the noticing of one's favorite food, favorite movie, wine, color, or flower?

Or could it be the way that when they are in bed, late at night and the other speaks oh so softly so the other doesn't hear, when they think they are asleep, "I love you"? It could be any of those, as sweet as they are.

But the one way many would show love, was to give them something that not many could, would even. A symbol of their love. A small, little thing, that could cause such feelings of belonging, of content. Of feeling like they had found home.

Home.

That's another word that is rarely defined. Let alone used.

To some, it is a place used as shelter, a place to escape the world. Sometimes, it is even used to create masterpieces. To others, it is a place in which domestic affections are centered. But, in some cases, affections is not the only domesticity that happens. In fact, in some cases, affection and love aren't even in the picture.

Sometimes, it hurts, often more than anyone would bear. And who wouldn't be hurt, when the person who is supposed to care for you, feed you and love you, had taken to hitting you, starving you and hating you? It hurts so badly till it reaches a point, when there was no turning back. To cross the line; either leave while you can, or face the wrath that wasn't meant to be taken out on you.

Many, don't choose either.

Some find a much more – painless way. Something I wish I had thought of.

Love and home. Two words that I had associated with each other, words I thought I could partake in without being hurt, without being judged. That someone like me, could be loved unconditionally, like any other child. Like my sister.

I was wrong.

I was so, so wrong.

A.N

Sorry the prologue is so short. It looks much longer in my program =_= And I am sorry it took so long to put a story up. Sheesh. Life got in the way I suppose and there really was no time for it. But it is here now! Rejoice!