When you did something, something that changed your life, it was something that you would only do after you gave it great thought. Maybe, beforehand, you would even promise yourself that no matter what, you wouldn't regret it. But what if you ended up regretting it anyway?

Layla, on her daily commute home after work (she had quickly declined when Thanos offered to teleport her again) had plenty of time to think about such things. She didn't regret meeting Thanos at all, and she also wouldn't wish to kick him out of her house, especially after all that had happened.

But she was starting to wonder if she had been too hasty in trying to tell her friends. "If I hadn't, they probably would have found out somehow, though," she reasoned with herself. Somehow, the words felt fake in her mouth. Sighing, she happened to glance at a nearby pedestrian. She smiled; he frowned, and walked across the street.

After one of her "friends" had ratted her out (she never found out which one, or even if it was just one), her life had become something of a news story. For over a week, reporters had been almost accosting her just to get a photo or a statement, some with more success than others. They even used to stake out her house, before Thanos put a stop to it.

And the reporters had been the sane ones. Aside from the punks who had tried to rob her, she had also suddenly found her mail increasing by a large margin. The only word she could think of was fanatical. The letters were intense, some in a positive manner, some in a negative manner, and others just very bizarre, with horrible punctuation and grammar, and writing that felt like something a hippie would have said in the 80s.

Despite this, the reporters and the weirdoes didn't bother her; the reporters were only doing their job, and the creeps, while annoying, weren't very frightening with Thanos around. No, the people who bothered her were former friends, co-workers, and acquaintances.

The day the news had broken had begun like any, ordinary weekday. She had been in class when another teacher barged in, asking, "Layla, is it true?" A few awkward events later, and she had been crowded by every single teacher in the school, and what felt like half the students. They wanted to know if the news was true, if she and the alien had hooked up, if the alien was in school, and even if she herself was an alien!

She had gone home early that day, explaining to Mr. Haynes that she had a strong case of nausea. In hindsight, she suspected the only reason he didn't use that as an excuse to give her the boot was his fear of Thanos.

All the attention, however, was better than what happened next. After the initial rush was over, whenever she went to the school building, the other teachers (even the janitor) avoided her. She would find herself sitting alone at the teacher's lounge when she was on her break.

As for trying to initiate conversation? It didn't go much better.

"Mr. Bishop," Layla said with an upbeat tone. "It's been so long." Bishop was the science teacher for the fifth graders, and despite his lack of stereotypical glasses, his ever present lab coat made him an ideal science whiz. Once upon a time, the two had been friendly.

"Dunham," he replied coldly. Apparently, he was no longer on a first name basis. "I suppose you still have time to teach, even when you're not babysitting a possibly dangerous alien." Layla frowned.

"Mr. Bishop, I can assure you that he isn't –" He held up a hand to cut her off.

"How do you know for sure? How can you be sure what an alien thinks, or how his mind works? In fact, how do I know that you're not being controlled somehow?" Layla's blood rushed to her head as she stalked away. How dare that wretched man? She didn't normally lose her temper, but…

The only bright spot in school anymore were the children. They didn't judge or look at her with frightened eyes. Of course, she wasn't even sure if their parents had informed them, but many kids had ways of overhearing things not meant for them.

The other bright spot of her day was returning home to spend time with Thanos. He didn't really comfort her in the usual way; it just wasn't him. At most, she would feel his arm snake around her shoulders as they sat on the couch. Mostly, his idea of comfort was sex. Somehow, the embarrassing things he couldn't say were easier to tell her telepathically during sex.

There were also nights where it was nice to just lie next to him and talk, about any subject they happened to come across. Layla was planning for this to be one of those nights.

Thanos was nothing if not observant, but even the most idiotic of his old generals would have had to notice the negative effect the townspeople were having on Layla. It made him want to destroy the whole town, and all the civilians with it. If he thought for even a second that Layla would approve, he would have.

He glanced over at her; she was reading next to the lamp on the bedside table. An older book she had purchased at a garage sale. Thanos had no interest in such books, but he supposed that he couldn't begrudge her such things.

"It must be nice to be the protagonist of a fictional story," Layla pondered out of the blue. Thanos replied with a grunt; what else was there to say to such a statement.

Layla continued. "After all, in a story, things always work out for the protagonist. I suppose there are some exceptions, but for the most part, no matter how rough things get, there's a bright future somewhere down the line."

"It is unfortunate, then, that we live in reality." Thanos winced at how that came out; he hadn't meant to come across as annoyed. "We don't need some omnipotent author writing a satisfying conclusion for us. We can accomplish that for ourselves." Layla smiled, setting the book aside.

"That's what I hope for everyday, but I'm honestly starting to think that no one will ever forget. I don't even care if they give me the cold shoulder, but for people to look at me with fear in their eyes…"

Thanos huffed. "Anyone who fears you never had any bravery to begin with." Layla lightly smacked him on the arm, and he grinned. "No offense, of course, but I don't think you have any sore of intimidation factor."

Layla hit him with her fluffy pillow. "Well, not to you, obviously. But think about it from their perspective: as far as they know, I can ask you to go pound anyone who displeased me." Thanos snorted from behind the pillow.

"That is what I recommend you do, actually. You must know I wouldn't object."

He watched as she lightly bit her bottom lip (and rather sexily, in his opinion), before she said, "And that would only justify their fears. Problem is, I also can't think of any ways to get them to stop flinching whenever I try to speak with them. I assume the same thing has been happening to you?"

Now that his presence had been revealed, Thanos had no more reason to stay cooped un inside his lab, so whenever the urge to explore struck him, he would go for a short, aimless stroll around the town. Most of the town's people avoided him like a plague, and that was fine with him. One child had burst into tears next to him, and Thanos had grinned.

"Yes, and I feel all the better for it," Thanos admitted. He lay back down, putting an arm around Layla to pull her next to him. Her hair tickled the bare skin of his chest.

A quiet relaxation formed around them, only to be broken when Layla wondered aloud, "I hope my parents haven't been watching the news or reading the papers. They haven't called or texted, though." Thanos had meant to ask about her immediate family, but had simply forgotten.

"In this day and age, that would be miraculous," Thanos grumbled. Was it possible that there were people who lived such secluded lives that they had no access to current events?

"Well," Layla started slowly, "my parents live in a farm that's kinda out of the way, so they don't get a regular paper. They're also not avid television viewers." She sighed. "I guess that's one more thing I have to stress about. How to tell them that I'm dating an alien."

Thanos pulled her down again. "The direct approach is always best, I think. In fact, if you truly don't think that you can tell them, I'll do it for you. I can't promise I'll be nice, though." Layla giggled and kissed him. He savored it.

When she pulled back, her face was flush. "On second thought, I'll probably do it myself. There are some things that you have to do with a bit of finesse." Thanos easily shrugged off the comment; it was true that he lacked a light touch when it came to delicate matters. Being "gentle" wasn't his style.

He reached over and grabbed Layla's cell phone from the bedside desk. "Perhaps you should call them now, before you lose your nerve," he suggested. She glared at him. "Or perhaps a text message would be easier."

He smirked as she snatched the phone. "I am not losing my nerve, for the record. I am merely waiting for the perfect time. Wipe that smirk off your face." He merely huffed before moving in to kiss her again. He wondered if she had any idea what she did to him. Somehow, she became even cuter when she looked angry.

Well, he didn't need to press the issue. When she wanted to confront her parents, she would do so. If he had any concerns, it was that Layla would take it hard if her parents met the news with horror. He didn't care if they approved of him or not, but he had the feeling that such a thing would distress Layla.

Oh, that reminded him. "I suppose you'll want to inform them about the Tesseract inside you?" Layla turned, giving her back to him.

"Good night, Thanos!" And that was that.

Author's Comments

Yup, we'll be meeting Layla's parents pretty soon!

Thanks for the reviews, everyone! And especially thanks to ValentinaSama, who drew a really nice fanart for Thanos and Layla! I just need to find a good way to publish the link!