I know that it has been painfully long since the last update, but I am making a very pointed effort to start updating again. I hope to add another, more substantial chapter within the week. As always thank you for your time and comments. As I cannot thank Evergreen for the comment personally, I will do so here. Please enjoy!
It was almost three minutes past noon and I was sitting nervously at bus stop 9. I had opted to go out after Natasha's grocery list. I was really the only candidate for leaving the house. Loki had never really been an option and Rogers was just too recognizable. So here I was, dressed in the least obtrusive outfit I could piece together. After several rounds of review by Steve and Loki, I was settled into a pair of blue tennis shoes, jeans and a plain white t shirt. All of it was topped off with a rather interesting reversible hoodie with each side having a different college logo, and a pair of sunglasses. For good measure, I did a bit of makeup to try and change the contours of my face. I had played about with this for fun in my past life, but I could not claim to be proficient, so I tried to keep it at a minimum. All in all, I looked very average, not the same sort of average I looked normally. A different average person.
I wish that I could say I was not worried, but that would be a blatant lie. I was terrified, but for a different reason than I expected. Instead of being worried about being recognized, I was worried that I wouldn't come back to the safe house. Part of me screamed that this was the perfect chance; I could leave the fear of being near Loki, the 'protective' custody of Captain America and Agent Romanov. Who was I to S.H.I.E.L.D really? Did they really think I could be a threat? I could go home to my family. I wondered if they had kept going about their lives like I had never been there. I hoped that they had, but I also felt the selfish hope that they felt the same crippling pain of being forced so far apart.
Finally the bus came screeching and groaning to a halt in front of the bench. Myself and two squat old ladies boarded the metal beast. Scanning the dingy interior for a seat, I had the sudden realization that I was on my own. I was just another face on a crowded midday bus, nobody cared what my life was like. They all were going about their business and expected me to do the same. They would never know or think about if I made it to my destination or even where my destination is. It struck me yet again that I could just leave. I could make my own way home and leave everyone else to their own problems. I rolled the idea around in my mind, considering it more seriously this time.
This was the first time in a long time that I had let thoughts of my family and past life come close to surfacing. I sat down between a balding man in a suit and a pair of young girls chattering about relationships. Staring down at my sneakers, I explored the emotions that flooded me. I felt the same empty chasm in my gut, but it didn't feel as endlessly immense as I remembered. Considering returning to my family left me feeling oddly guilty. I had promised Frigga not to abandon her son, but I knew that it was not the only reason. I wanted to stay for my own reasons. Not only did I know that nothing could be the same for me now, but I didn't want it to be. Thinking about going back to my old life made a hard lump appear in my throat. It was the choking feeling of realizing that my old life was painfully mundane. It had been comforting in it's routine, but now that I had changed so much, the routine would feel like a cruel joke. I had become someone else while everyone else had stayed the same person. How could they understand what I had seen and done? How could they relate to who I was now?
As the bus ground to a halt in front of the supermarket, I decided that I would stay on this path entwined with a different world because I didn't really have any other options. This was my life now. With that sentiment settling heavily on my heart, I disembarked the rumbling bus and ventured into the bustling humanity of the store.