She sits on the end of the stairs in her snowsuit waiting for her nanny to come pick her up. The temperature is certainly low, if not below freezing, and the sun is starting to set in the city. It's nothing new to her. This has always been her life. She supposes the reason this nanny is late is because her father probably didn't even tell her where the school is or what time it lets out.
She is very well aware of the teacher standing inside the warm school watching her. He has asked several times if she wants to wait inside or have some hot chocolate, but she refuses each time. If she leaves the stoop and her new nanny can't find her, it will be far worse than pneumonia, the flu, hypothermia, and frostbite combined. There's a test tomorrow and she wants to get enough sleep to be ready for it.
Last night she barely slept at all because of the yelling. She had asked her old nanny to just stay out of it, to just do her job and keep her head down because that honestly just makes everything easier, but she wouldn't listen, just confronted her father and was immediately fired. Six nannies in six months because none of them will listen to her. The only way to survive is to follow orders and be as invisible as possible. She fears no one but her will survive.
The sun is completely set and shivers rack her body, but Maria refuses to move. She will survive the cold, she will survive her life. Someone will eventually pick her up, and if no one does, then she will walk home.
As soon as she spots the back town car pulling up in front of her school, the cold floods her system, along with pure terror and doom. It's not her new nanny here to pick her up. It's her father.
The busybody teacher walks out of the school to her and smiles. "I called your father and told him about how no one picked you up and you were going to freeze to death. Have a good night, Maria." He turns away and heads back into the school and never looks back. Why won't anyone just listen to her?
It's getting chilly outside, but that hardly affects him. His handler promised pie for dessert tonight and he is excited for it. But somehow he can't get the notion of how fun it would be to just sit outside in the cold air and take in the city out of his head. He's busy staring at a magazine full of cityscapes when his handler knocks on his door.
"Phil, dinner is in ten minutes. Please take off the costume and wear something nice. Your father is joining us tonight," he instructs through the door.
Part of him hates this. He feels like a caged animal, but there's a good reason he's here. He's different from other people and he needs to be protected until he knows how to defend himself and blend in with society. He wonders how he is supposed to blend in when he's not even a part of society, but his handler has told him many times that society is made of outcasts and people who don't belong. Once he's out there, he'll be invisible, and that's fine with him, he just wants to get out there finally.
He hastily changes out of his hand-made Captain America costume and puts on a pair of slacks and a button down shirt and heads to the dining room of their underground apartment. At the table is his father, chatting happily with his handler. Both of them turn and spot Phil and smile.
"Phil! I see you're finally not wearing that costume you made," his father says with a smirk. Phil shakes his head and sits at the table.
"Even Captain America has to wear civilian clothes every once in a while," Phil says coolly. His father and handler laugh, and all three tuck into their dinner.