I biked home slowly in the dark rain. I didn't know what time it was, how long I'd been gone, or why I was suddenly not in Asgard. New York City was usually nice and bright at night, but all the lights seemed to have dimmed that one night.

Why was I...banished? I asked myself miserably. I was a faliure, a complete faliure to myself, the Avengers team, Dad, and even Jane. What was worst was I let my dad down. I didn't bring Father back to him. I felt horribly gulity and useless...I had my chance, it was right there, in front if me! But I had to ruin it, I had to end my trip to Asgard so quickly...

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. Finally, I got home to my little blue house. I suspected it was late, so I was surprised to see the lights still on inside. I almost didn't want to have to see Dad, to have to face him and tell him I wasn't able to get to Thor. With a sigh, I put my bike away and unlocked the front door.

"Marisol!" The first thing I sawe when I entered my house was Dad, blue eyes hopeful and lips curved into a smile. "Did you...?" He looked over my shoulder, as if expecting to see his lover hiding behind me.

I shook my head, looking down at the floor. "I'm sorry, Dad," I whispered, unable to meet his eyes. The silence I got from him was dissapointing. I felt like such a bad person until I felt his arms surrounding me.

"It's okay, Rose. It wasn't an easy task, but at least you got to meet him..." His voice sounded shaky. After another moment he pulled away, pressing a kiss to my forehead briefly. "It's late, and we're expected at the Avengers Tower tomorrow at 9:30, so we should...sleep." With that, he shuffled to his bedroom.

"Goodnight, Dad," I murmured while walking to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

That night I dreamt I was still in Asgard, standing on a balcony with Father's hand in mine.

"I will return to Midgard soon," he said with a smile. "Just not now. Await me, daughter. I love you."

The last I remember of the dream was the Bifrost taking me home again.

I will return to Midgard soon, just not now. Await me, daughter. Thor's words ran through my mind over and over as Dad drove us to the Avengers Tower on his motorcycle the next day.

Once at the Tower, I saw the Avengers weren't themselves. Everybody looked tired, including Dad, and some had injuries. Tony had a large bruise covering most of his left arm, Natahsa was walking with a limp, Clint had burns all over him, and everyone had injuries. The only one who looked normal was Bruce.

"What happened?" I asked them, surprised. They looked like they had a long, tiresome battle.

Natahsa shifted her green eyes to me while no one else payed attention. She winced, like it hurt to talk. "We were attacked whileyou were...away. It was pretty bad."

I frowned. "I was only gone a couple of days,"

"Marisol, you were gone for nearly a week. Six days."

"Fire shooting cannons," Clint started to describe whatever attacked them. He pointed to a burn on his neck. "My arrows couldn't stop it."

"I didn't get burnt, but that robot-thing packed a punch," Tony put in, rubbing his arm gingerly.

I turned to Bruce, expecting him to say something. He put up his hands innocently. "I don't know, but the Other Guy sure didn't like it." I cracked a half-hearted smile at that.

Without thinking, I quickly turned to Dad and asked him worriedly, "Are you hurt?"

Behind me, I heard Tony scoff. "Aren't you scared for our safety? No need to fuss over poor little indestructable Captian America." He said sarcastically.

I looked him over, raising an eyebrow defiantly. "Oh, sure," I shot back. "Is the great Tony Stark in pain? In the need for a bit of attention? As if he doesn't get enough of it already, we should all pity him." I crossed my arms and shook my head in mock sympathy before turning back to Dad.

What I saw was an amused expression on his face. Tony was laughing at my comeback, too-Tony and I are really close and we always tease each other. "Don't worry about me, Marisol. I'm a super-soldier. I heal quickly and you know bruises are nothing." He lifted his shirt to show off his refined muscles, though currently stained with a purple-blue mark. I nodded swiftly. Nothing to worry about.

A cold hand suddenly griped my arm. Instinctively, I twisted my arm out of reach from the bloodred fingernails, but Natasha just laughed. "I'm going down to the gym to train. You coming?"

I cocked my head. "Aren't you supposed to be recovering from battle?" After every battle they had, they were given a few days off to rest and recover from their injuries. I guess Natasha had different plans.

She shrugged in response. "Never know when you might need your strength." She grabbed Clint's arm and started pulling him towards the training room, looking back at me in question.

I looked at Dad, the request on my lips, when he nodded knowingly. I smiled at him one last time before following Tasha and Clint, laughing at Clint's protests.