Autumn arrived with an earnest lack of subtlety. Leaves choked the streets and every wanderer put a bit of vigor in their steps. It's the lull between seasons when the sun only shines in reminiscence of summer's affection, but there was no mistaking the shadowed, bitter chill in the wind that whispered the promise of winter's return.

Rose-tinted glasses are no longer sold, for the city has truly awoken once more. Rich off deceit and tourist's money, it can finally let that god awful smile go. I bet it's gathered enough offense to impart its revenge on anyone who dares to stay and make a home of its misery.

It's a brutal and humbling time I know all too well — one I favor quite lusty, in fact — when the city shows it's unyielding dichotomy between a poet's dream and worst nightmare.

New York is a cruel mistress. And in knowing how furiously addictive the affair, I couldn't be too surprised when I landed here, oh so gracefully, practically meshing with the street as if we couldn't be separated for even a moment longer. Had I ever known our intimacy to be without a bit hurt, perhaps I would have thought twice about staying. Though our affair is nothing short of a noir fantasy - the beautiful collaboration between a victim and her killer.

This city knew Safiya Natalle before she truly knew herself. As far as it was concerned, she was a natural-born artist of a masterpiece she couldn't yet see. There is an unmatched anonymity to this city that it used to lure her in, offering her a blank canvas to explore herself upon. For she held a rage that seduced chaos itself, a power of which she didn't want to meet until she was forced to.

It craved her art. In every way it could, New York pushed her into the depths of brokenness, teaching her every bit of darkness this place has to offer. Thus through the guilt, the helplessness, and the pity bred a rage so unbearable that she finally snapped, releasing her true power for the first time in the same city that broke her.

I suppose, in the films, when the victim vows it's loyalty to that very subjection, they also profess that the only way to beat its killer is to become it. Thus, she really had no choice but to learn from the best, for she knew nothing greater at that point then the assassination of her own sanity.

I can barely feel her, now. That Safiya has been battered to an unrecognizable degree, but I know she's still here. If there's anything to know about her, she will claw at her grave until her last whisper of breath because if she knew nothing better than how to survive.

I can't imagine she would think this is smart, being here in my condition. Yet, from the bits of her that still resonate, I could think of no better place to hide than with that who expects the worst of you.

This city knew her plenty and loved her well, and I could practically sense the disappointment when it was I who returned, standing from the ruins. Though I have no time to mull over the welcome party. I'm on borrowed time, and each minute leaves me more like a shell of my past than a functional being.

So to appease them all, I tap into the last bit of life Safiya Natalle could give me and start down the street.

In her days, she often moved like how a shadow would appear as an undetected and looming darkness that you can't run from. I'm not her normal prey, but seeming as though I contributed greatly to her death, I should have expected to see the outline of her follow me with every step, its presence only making the ghost of her more apparent.

She's always hated the weak, and god did she despise me. It took me only a moment to regret giving her life again as her wrath began instantly. The torture she chose was to move us through the streets with an effortless rigor, ensuring that I saw how painless the mundane things are for her as I felt so intimately everything she didn't. I felt the scorching blaze of the sun as if I were its sole victim, the pit of guilt that plagued my constant mind, and the disgust for the stranger who managed to cop a feel that would've meant nothing to her after two seconds. It took all of a few seconds to be touched by the overarching realization that I wasn't of her world anymore.

Perhaps she thought that if I remembered how bad it all felt then I would understand why everything she did was so important. I had dared to call her weak, hadn't I? I'd said that her illusions were flawed. And yet as I have no protection any longer, I yearned for them again. Though her protections were self-made. Built, strengthened, then reinforced. They took time and energy and sacrifice, and I threw it all away, for what?

God, It's like her pity took a solid form. With each step, I could hear her disgust with me, as if she were just as real as I am.

So open, so easy, so fucking vulnerable...Am I supposed to feel bad for you? Do you know how fucking sad you look right now? You can be read like a fucking children's book...you're scared, alone, a lesser man's prime target...Do you want to be another statistic? Bitch, It really seems as if you'd like nothing less...you're back is wide open...I could think of 30, no, 37 ways to get away with your murder right now...is your hair actually down right now? Are you- oh my god, are you an actual fucking idiot? You know what? Let me describe in great detail how you're going to die, starting with some ugly son of a bitch pulling you into an ally from your hair—

I shouldn't have expected her to be any less persistent in death. Just the idea of her ceaselessly haunts. At this point, I know I probably looked certifiable, but with her taunting flew the last fuck I had to give. Laughter poured from a sick, twisted part of me. It sounded malevolent and tasted bitter, but I couldn't stop it.

I think I have absolutely lost it.

I should be lucky that no one in this city even bats an eye to this shit, but she had a point. Even though we're hardly alike, I still wear her face, the very one that has a 'shoot on sight' hit on her from the majority of countries on this planet. At least I'm still smart enough to grasp that I need to get out of the open.

Amidst my mania, I spit on the ground and didn't look back down at her as I found my own way. The streets were dense and brimming with uncertainty, making it harder to navigate through my own doubts. Desperation led me to the first semblance of familiarity that I could find. I slipped into that alleyway, awaiting the shade to shield me from the rest of the world.

I laughed a little more as none of my feelings faded. Instead, they only grew. She had probably hoped I'd do just this and find that there would be no relief. For Darkness was her friend, not mine.

There is a sort of acceptance I have to take from that, sooner or later. There is, truly, nowhere else in this universe for me to hide. Thus, in spite of everything, I leaned back against the brick and rested, no matter how illogical, because it has become rather hard to distinguish if there is any difference between truth and helplessness at all.

There are some realizations that have the power to invent a whole new identity from itself. It was a long time ago when I had learned that control is but an illusion. Though I wonder why the moment has found me again, now. Perhaps I should have expected some remembrance of her genesis in the days of her death. Perhaps she wanted me to understand, unequivocally, why she ran and kept running. Because the truth of the matter is a scary thing. So much so that from it birthed the greatest lie I have ever known.

The birth of Safiya Natalle, the one most people know, was from the conception of the leaders that had broken her and the very cities that had let them. She had known from the start that no one could have control over others if they did not have it over themselves, so she knew exactly how to strike back. She hit them in their weaknesses, having to pretend she had none of her own. And as the body counts got higher, the only way to live with herself was to convince that she hadn't become them herself. That she had no weakness at all.

She was worshipped by a world in peril. She became every form the dark could take, every fallacy that dying hands kept close. She held their secrets and cherished their lies, fed them promises of a life with no consequences, and she hid with them when they found shelter in her mind where there was no truth at all.

That's all she was, wasn't she? A lie that couldn't tell herself right. Lips that couldn't decide whose story to tell, just as long as it wasn't her own. And now not even the slightest illusion will stick to me as if it were repelled by everything I had become.

Or perhaps they were terrified of the one who had seized and stripped them away. The one she hates the most in this world.

My breathing has slowed and my face fell somber as I could think of nothing further after the thought of him. The duality of him renders its head in moments like these when I can think back to just how intoxicated he can make me feel, and be surprised all over again as he is the only one who can sober me completely. It started gradually, almost mystifying, as I heard the roar of the city fade away, keeping nothing but a distant hum at its loudest peak. The city began to escape me as I felt the faint tug from a mistress who starts to feel their lover slipping into the grasp of something that means just a little more.

I felt neither the sun nor the cool of the shade. Instead, a warmth that had to be innate took its stead, transcending me into a moment of meditation, a bit of bliss, as my breath steadied to a serene rhythm.

Softly, to hold onto this feeling, I closed my eyes.

Him.

For just a moment, basking in a silence that we had never been allowed to inhabit together, I thought of him and him alone.

I saw him and I in his chambers during that snowy night when silence had paid us a visit, one we knew would be it's first and it's last. The fire gently cracked between us as I watched the soft hue from the candlelight grace his face, highlighting the more tender, elegant parts of him that I just couldn't keep my eyes away from. I did, though, only when he'd catch me. Then I would go back to pretending to read whatever book I held as he would take his turn studying me just the same.

Somehow, we both knew not to take the silence for granted. We knew how rare it was, how remarkable it was to hold, and the way that struck me the most is how we both thought we didn't deserve it.

But in that moment I couldn't be concerned with his crimes or any other noise. All I saw was how beautiful he was, how forbidden the very nature of his being, and how I didn't, in the slightest, deserve him.

Though his chaos is a work of art, he fits nowhere better than he does in silence, where I can swear that he is the only semblance of peace in this whole fucked up world.

I knew I wouldn't be able to hold this thought for long either. Just before I could drown in the feeling of him, reality twisted to his sunken eyes as I watched his crazed figure pace the room, possessed by the vices I've fed him and the poison he drank from my very mouth. I watched him revert back to his old self just to get back some semblance of control, hiding from me everything I had fallen for.

He is, by far, my worst crime, and my greatest offense. Something punishable by a death to which I have already received, and yet I yearned for something stronger.

There is a pit within us both that I couldn't fathom forgiveness to reach. Nothing righteous should be able to drive someone to that sort of madness, and for the crimes against my own insanity, I hate him just as deeply. It's realistic that I may hate him forever, no matter how long a God's lifespan. For both our sakes, I hope that to be true.

All I know now is that I left and that he's okay.

He'll be okay.

And perhaps that's the something stronger — how his salvation is also my greatest punishment. That he will be okay without me.

A long, wavering sigh left me without my consent, forcing me to recognize the lodge in my throat and the way my eyes were squinted shut. Yeah that fucking hurt, no matter how justified it sounds.

I already know what she would say. It's useless thinking about him. You're gone, he's gone, this is right.

And I know that. I get it. I do.

But there's a reason why he's the most powerful thing I know.

The last thing I wanted to do was open my eyes, but I had to keep moving. One thing that she and I still have in common is that if we stood in one place for too long, we would begin to spiral. So when I did eventually open my eyes, I was glad to find the world before me just as I left it.

That is, bar the note that lies at my feet.

I didn't have to pick it up to recognize it. For a while, I just stared at it. From what I could tell, there were two addresses written. The first, the return address it seems, a rather familiar: 177A Bleecker Street

Subtly, I looked to the sides of me without lifting my head, finding the ally empty. Had it been my last visit on Earth and the first time I had received a note, I would have blamed it on a delusionally based hallucination. But with my new knowledge of another sorcerer on Earth, one with a special relationship with my...special relationship...it wasn't too difficult to deduce.

I didn't recognize the second address, and when I slowly flipped it over with my foot, I found that nothing else was written.

Where did he want me to go, and what did he want from me? I hadn't been asked of anything the last time. In fact, the sorcerer actually helped take the settlement money off my hands as I desired.

Or maybe he stole it from me.

For good measure, I kicked the note again. To make sure it wasn't actually a bomb?

I imagine he would have already killed me if he really wanted to. His notes had reached me effortlessly, so he knew who I was, where I am, and he had the power to do it without me knowing anything about him. So why am I even thinking about meeting him? Especially in this state?

What would happen if I ignore him? Would he make it worse for me? The only thing I know about sorcerors is from my time with the most arrogant one, and if that's any consolation...

I followed the second address.

Finally exiting the ally, I swiped a pair of aviators from a passing woman's pocket and started on my way.

Usually, when given a location under the discretion of some questionable business, I would find myself in the darkest pits of New York, somewhere from the underground tunnels of Brooklyn to the depressing penthouses of Wall Street. So excuse me if I hadn't necessarily expected to find myself roaming around the bright, cobblestoned streets of SoHo.

Artist lofts and overpriced coffee shops and designer thrift shops and trendy brunch spots and themed book shops — and holy shit this place has changed. I didn't pass one trade deal. Well one, if you count the two girls sharing a blunt on their fire escape.

My destination was the penthouse loft atop a French restaurant that attracted a convenient amount of people this time of day, none of which were even the slightest bit concerned with me opening the side door to the stairwells.

Immediately upon my arrival, I could reason that whoever lives on the other side of this door is either way to innocent to the evils of the world, or they are way too eager to see me.

There was one single lock on the door.

I honestly felt a little bad, and equal parts surprised at how they've managed this long.

What I had expected from anyone who knows how to handle their wealth was a twelve lock system and a spring gun as a welcome present. That said, either the owners are too ignorant for their own good...

...Or they, themselves, are more dangerous than any weapon could ever be.

A bit charmed at the game, I took the risk. I reached into my pocket where I had stuffed just a few things before I left to grab a bobby pin. Configuring it to good use in a matter of seconds, I eased it into the lock with the hopes of making little to no noise at all, and after a moment, I heard the satisfying click.

I let a minute pass as I held the doorknob in my hand.

Would he be ready for me? Would he be waiting?

There was no sense in breaking into someone's house timidly. Therefore, I threw the door open and braced myself for whatever was going to be thrown at me.

I just didn't expect it to be a vase.

A squeaky "Shit" left me as I dodged the incoming weapon, and watched it shatter against the wall behind me. Quickly, and wide-eyed, I snapped my head back to catch a glimpse of my assailant, which only confused me more.

She watched me with narrowed eyes as I studied her, owning the challenge I wasn't even too sure I wanted to start yet. She was a brown-haired, dark eye circled, so evidently caffeine fueled, 5-foot emo phase that wanted to fight me more than she's ever wanted anything. I narrowed my eyes on her for only a second before they widened again. No, the angst was much worse. She was strapped with that Vampira, dead-inside look that only University could give you, and from knowing that feeling all too well, she scared the absolute shit out of me.

"INTRUDER!" Screaming just loud enough to wake all the neighbors up, she grabbed a lamp from the side table with her eyes set on its target. But before she could launch it my way, a familiar face ran into the room, and we both stilled.

My eyes were getting their own workout with how confused I was.

Jane?

She shared the same look. "Safiya?"

... ... ...

The lamp was thrown anyways.

Despite my shock, I moved at just the right time for it to miss my head and hit the door frame instead. The miss was clearly to the pitcher's dismay because she threw her hands up at her sides with a groan and a few words to herself about her high school softball team.

It took a second longer for her to break out of her trance, but once she did, Jane started towards the girl, ever so quick to help. "Darcy! Hey! Down girl!"

Instead, Darcy met Jane halfway. "You know her?!" Not wasting another second, she threw her arms up and positioned herself in front of Jane as if she were covering her from me.

"Yeah. " From behind, Jane rolled her eyes. "She basically paid for this house!"

It took a second, but my eyebrows rose when I finally realize what's going on. The sorcerer didn't want to meet just yet. Instead, he was pointing me in the direction of where he brought my money. And whether he knew it as well or not, I'm glad, because I hadn't thought of any other place to go. Granted, this is probably the only place where someone didn't want to kill me.

Well, with one exception I guess.

Tentatively, Darcy stepped away from Jane, as if gauging just what exactly I'm doing here. "You're Her?"

I couldn't not note the tone. "That depends."

Eyeing me with incredible skepticism, Darcy made a move to sit down, slowly making herself comfortable behind her laptop. Worldlessly, she took sips of her coffee, holding our stare for a minute before I quickly realized that she had no intention of breaking it, and would be quite content in watching me bitterly for the rest of the day.

Ignoring her friend, Jane started towards me, a smile on her face despite it all. "Safiya, where have you been! God, I missed you, and you could have just knocked! How did you know where I live? And I swear I didn't spend all the money on this place!" She was rambling a little bit, obviously a little nervous. Maybe just confused, understandably so. In the way she blushed, I could tell she felt a little guilty about how nice this loft was. But before I could feel too terribly about making her so unsettled, her face lit up.

"You know what? I'll show you exactly what I spent it on." Genuine excitement took her face. "Do you have time?"

This entire loft was running on caffeine. Nonetheless, "Yeah, I've got time."

She nodded and bit her lip to keep herself contained. "Go, uh, freshen up. I'll put some water on. Bathroom is the first door on the right when you go down that hallway."

Blinking at her a few times, I worked on fathoming how she's just offered tea to the person who had just broken into her house. It took barely a minute to reacquaint herself, regardless of context. And despite how relieved I should be, it's completely concerning.

Accepting my fortune, I kicked the side of my lips up. "Thank you."

"It's already unlocked, so you don't have to break the door down." Darcy chimed, then took a long, loud drag of her coffee.

I laughed a little because I honestly didn't know what else to do, but I felt it my cue to go when Jane threw a pillow at her head. With the feel of Darcy's eyes drilling into my retreating back, I made my way down the sunlight drenched hallway, eventually finding the bathroom.

The contents of it threatened a laugh. Riddled with scribbled notes, drawings, and takeout containers, I could swear that I was transported back in time to my own bathroom before...everything.

It was easy to remember how your best thoughts come when you're in the shower, how the counter becomes a second desk because and getting ready takes so much time that you can't help but think about quantum physics. Hell, everywhere is your work station because there is no greater fear that your next great discovery would slip your memory if you didn't keep a notepad at hand. And eating? It's the most inconvenient thing when you have work to do. You'd fit it into any spare minute you had.

A smile was already on my face before I could acknowledge it, and I rid of it fast. I accepted that all of my ghosts were coming to haunt me today, a more telling sign than any that I'm losing time. Nevertheless, I stepped in.

Admittedly, that was a mistake, because with one look in the mirror I could see that I looked like shit. I couldn't imagine the sight of me in her eyes after being gone for so long. Why she didn't call the police, I have no idea. I could so easily kill them both, sell everything to their name, and move to Alaska. In fact, I probably should.

She reminds me of someone I used to know, and she didn't last very long.

I rolled my eyes as my back hit the wall. Yeah, because of people like you.

Lazily and unhurried, my head rested against the tile and I rocked it from side to side, watching myself in the mirror. I didn't want to stand in one place for too long, but I had to devise some kind of story.

Since I was quiet enough, I could make out Jane's shushing before her voice went to a whisper, yet Darcy's voice was higher pitched and much less shameless, so I easily caught the murmurs of a "Bond girl with a serious boundary issue."

I roll my eyes. Am I supposed to say I've been in Asgard this whole time? When she left, I had literally burnt it to the ground. I bet she has more questions than I know the answers to. And why the hell would I be there with Thor gone and Loki dead?

Oh my god. Thor. Where the hell is Thor?

You're fucking spiraling.

Fighting the urge to punch the mirror, I pulled my head to the center and looked myself dead in the eyes. There's no time for this. I have all the time in hell to wallow in the fact that I've been galavanting around his home realm while he's God only knows where. Literally.

"Fuck." I pushed off the wall and started to pace the small bathroom, making a conscious effort to be light on my feet. I'm not going to kill them. I wouldn't. And I genuinely don't want any harm to come to them, so I need a good lie.

Continuing a steady pace, I mulled over some ideas and looked around for inspiration.

Blueprints that I could allegedly sell, old plane tickets that I could probably track, dirty underwear that I could definitely get a mortgage for, a copy of the Infinity Concerto, pill bottles, a curling iron that I should probably shut off...more pill bottles...

Slowly, I took a step backward and narrowed my eyes at the counter. My eyebrows were tightly furrowed as I turned off the hot iron, though my attention was on taking the pills in my hand. I probably couldn't be any more shameless in my pursuit, especially for something so personal, but...

"...No...' came out faintly under my breath, in equal parts disbelief and yearning for my eyes to have seen wrong.

...Femara, Odomzo, Jakafi...

Another 'Fuck' slipped through my whispered breath.

Oral chemotherapy.

I held the pills for just a moment longer, rereading, reassuring, before placing them back inconspicuously. Following suit, I tried to look as if I hadn't seen them at all, but I wasn't too good at looking unaffected anymore.

I really have nothing against the student in the living room, but I've never in my life hoped someone had cancer this much before.

My head dropped as my hands found the counter, a heavy gust of breath escaping my chest. Before I could take a second to think, my shoulders started to shake with laughter — sick, dark laughter that came at its own accord. I really am going insane, aren't I? I couldn't figure out what the fuck is so funny about this until I listened a little closer and heard her.

...and why is it that you care? Why should you? Do you have a cure? Can you make it all better? I know you have a habit of playing God, but some people's lives are meant to end naturally. Oh, but that's not it. I almost forgot - You are in the habit of caring about people now. You like the pain of it. I forgot that you get off on it. That's the appeal, right? Because otherwise, you're going to have to explain to me what the fuck you're getting from this-

Snapping my head up, my eyes were dark and vengeful.

Or is it that she reminds you of someone that you can't let go of?

I laughed again. Why can't she just fucking die already? Gathering any scraps of composure I still have, I flipped myself off in the mirror on my way out. I hope the bitch can still see that from six feet under.

Jane and Darcy's conversation has been anything but quiet, and the failed attempts at whispering only became more apparent with each step towards the living room. To save us all any further awkwardness, I tried on a smile and picked the one that didn't make me completely sick, then switched to the best impression of the Safiya that Jane knows and loves.

That entails walking into any room and making anyone believe anything I say.

God, I fucking hate her.

Nevertheless, I walked in like I was untouchable.

"I'm sorry for showing up unannounced! This had been a bit of a last-minute trip." I strolled into the living room at the moment both of them had moved from each other, now trying way too hard to act casual. I smiled to keep a laugh down, gradually making my way to the couch. "I've been traveling around for a few months, and I'd been lucky to avoid canceled flights until now. I'm stuck in New York for a day or so, but I figured I'd drop by and occupy some time. I just tracked your address from when I sent my settlement."

Coming in from the kitchen, Jane carried two cups of tea over to the couch before she sat, and I murmured a 'thank you' as she handed me one. I spotted the bit of guilt on her face when I mentioned the money, and I mentally cursed myself. I hadn't meant to be so blunt. I'm usually good at catching that.

"Thank you for taking that, by the way," I soothed. "I'd rather it be spent here, with you, than on bottomless tequila."

To my relief, she laughed and settled in. "I still don't know how to thank you for that. I tried to find out where in the world you were, but given everything that happened when I last saw you..." she gave a knowing look, "...I'd say you were due a vacation."

Interrupting our conversation with as much subtly as a bulldozer, Darcy hummed from her desk, her attention down at her computer. "And where did you go, exactly? Was it for business, or for pleasure, or secret mafia work..."

Jane groaned. "Darcy—"

"Kill me for being a little curious. From what I've heard, I don't take you as the type to be laying out on the beach for months."

With a terrible act of innocence, my eyes narrowed. Honestly, I have no idea what Jane makes of me. Especially when she's aware that she knows so little. Yet, I've lived the fair share of my life as a mystery, so it isn't necessarily a question of what did she say, but what could she say?

Her eyes glared daggers at Darcy before taking in some breath. "Uh, yeah, I told Darcy a little about our time in Asgard... and I may have dug into you a little when I got back here...your work, I mean...To which I cannot be blamed for," she quickly added, taking her defense. I smiled effortlessly, for it was just as easy to remember the hours we would spend in my room trying to figure out Asgard's makeup. I couldn't blame her.

"You're brain is insanely impressive. And you didn't tell me how much you did here! You figured out how to apply the time-independent Schrödinger equation to all dimensions when they hadn't even been conceptualized yet!" She laughed. "Why did you let me only talk about me! I know you were in the field a long time ago..." her smile faded slightly, probably keeping back the fact that she reads the news and knows what I've been up to since my physics days.

So my lie was shit.

Nonetheless, I saved her the effort in trying to bring her thoughts back herself. "It's nothing compared to what you're working on! I guess I was too busy keeping up with you."

I cringed in every way but outwardly. That sounded juvenile, and so obviously deflective.

Expectantly, as if she was just as aware of my slip, Darcy hummed again, just a bit louder, effectively getting our attention. She hadn't looked up from her computer, though. In fact, she was feverishly typing. I would bet a body part that was looking me up. I'd bet another that she's done it before. And I have no choice but to bet all of mine that the only reason she hasn't called the police is because of Jane.

"Thor talked about you too," she eventually murmured, causing Jane to tense next to me. It was only out of the corner of her eye that she looked to me, then looked at whatever was suddenly so interesting about her hands.

So he was here and isn't anymore. Although it killed me to know, she was obviously uncomfortable.

I opened my mouth to change the subject, but Jane beat me to it. To my surprise, she confronted the silence head-on, clearing her throat then looking at me as if there was never a pause.

"Yeah, all good things. You know he's a fan of you." She struggled to keep a smile. "After leaving Asgard, he spent a long time here, in this apartment. But, you know, he's way too big for the ceiling and the four walls were a little claustrophobic, so long term just wasn't working out—"

"She dumped him," Darcy barked, unforgivingly.

Jane groaned again. "He has much greater things to do than to sit here and watch reality tv with me. He's out exploring the realms." She waved her hands around as if to imitate some kind of otherworldly feeling. Then, rolling her eyes, she carelessly dropped arms. "Which, if he really cared about my work, he would have taken me along."

"Is why you were with him?" I grinned. "For the research opportunities?"

"Well, it's a bonus!" She exclaimed with a hint of amusement in her lips. "I'm reasonable, like, I get it. I know traveling with him is something I probably wouldn't survive. There are big differences between a human and an actual God. Like, how I can't even hike a mountain without getting altitude sickness, let alone go to space." She huffed a breath.

I wouldn't give her my pity, but I did look at her, then, with softened eyes as my smile fell a little. She mirrored mine a moment later, one side of her mouth quirking up as if to tell me that she's okay.

Breaking the tension, she took a breath through her nose and moved her attention to the papers in front of her. "This is what I wanted to show you. Remember when we couldn't figure out the composition of Asgard's foundation, or the energy source?" She shuffled the stacks apart and pulled a few favorable papers. "Darcy, can you pull up the 300 files?"

After a fit of typing, Jane's interpretations of Asgard's composition, and how it's relative to other unexplored elements of the universe, were projected on the wall in front of us. With the way the furniture was arranged, it was obvious that they frequently work this way. Do they always work out of here?

Jane gets up from the couch and heads over as if giving a presentation. Quite frankly, it was. For the next half hour or so, she showed me all of the work she's compiled over the months since we last saw each other. She was glowing, and even Darcy curbed whatever feelings towards me to assist her. The questions I asked were answered immediately, or she was more than eager to have us work it out.

Halfway into it, I had to sit back. I watched her move around the room with subtle dominance, claiming the knowledge and any doubts that anyone may have that she was pure brilliance.

I thought often of why I'm so drawn to her. It was in Asgard that I acknowledged her appeal, common interests aside. So much so that I worked harder and tred lighter in keeping myself unknown. There are many things in this world that she doesn't need to know, and that sort of taboo becomes me.

Maybe it's because of the sore state I'm in, or maybe it's her brilliance to blame, but the pull to her has a sort of wistful pain to it, like the pursuit of a hidden memory, hoping to see it clearly despite its own desperation to forget itself. Might she be a reminder that I'm not accustomed to the idea of holding precious things dear and expecting it to stay?

Something about Jane is effortlessly nostalgic, with the pleasure of some parts and the painful truth of others. Watching her, now, I could think of no question more torturous then what could have become of me if not for all I've done. I know then that Jane serves as the girl I've been running from —the one I could have been.

It's those sorts of questions that force people to find the good in their own trauma just to survive that idea. I've gotten what I deserve. This pain I hold now, leaving me raw and vulnerable to every feeling possible is enough retribution for my every crime.

Yet as I watch Jane talk with unbelievable passion and light in her eyes, my envy longs for justice, begging the question of if I ever deserved it at all. Did that girl - young, lost, and naive -truly deserve what she dealt with?

Naivety is expensive. It was her greatest offense. If she couldn't figure that out, then she had to learn the hard way.

I fought the urge to scoff out loud to myself and call her every name in the book, starting with hypocrite. No matter how hard she tries to convince herself that she sees everything, her 'black and white' world is the epitome of naive. And yet I know what she was born into. Only fear could make her so unforgiving — the fear of making the same mistake again.

Before I could lose myself completely, the presentation ended, and both Jane and Darcy looked to me expectantly, as if I were capable of anything but awe at the moment.

"Jane," A breath escaped me and I shook my head, "This is...I don't have any words."

"Nobel Peace Prize worthy, maybe?" Darcy offers with a proud grin on her face.

My face lit up. Jane was so unaware of her own greatness sometimes, that I wonder if she would ever accept such a praise. Though it took me another moment to notice that it wasn't herself that Darcy was proud of. She watched Jane with blossoming pride and Jane fidgeted slightly in her stance as she often does with the attention on her. Only, she was smiling too, unapologetically.

I leaned off the couch and put my hands to my sides. "No way," I whispered.

She couldn't keep back a laugh, one that was fully beside herself. "The results are in a few more months," she eased into it, but shameless excitement overcame her, "but looking at the competition, I'm really optimistic."

Without pause, Darcy hollered into the air and threw her arms up. "She's totally gonna get it!"

My mouth tried to form words, a shock of my own running through my thoughts again. I could only stare up at her, taking her in for everything she is.

In her, there was the acknowledgment that you can be smart without knowing everything the universe has to offer. There was a possibility that you didn't have to face all the evil in the world to prove yourself worthy. And in connecting with the glimmer in her eye, it was if it told me that I was all that once, despite what others had told me.

Suddenly, I wanted to cry. "You're gonna get it," I added softly. I didn't even realize I had been smiling until I felt the ache at my cheeks.

She did it.

She beamed at me before turning to Darcy, laughing a few humble 'stop's and grabbing at her arms to try and bring them down. Yet Darcy persisted through the manhandling and just hyped her up louder.

We were like that for a few minutes, smiling helplessly to the bliss in the air, admittedly for a few different reasons. Though, surprisingly, Darcy's face was the first to fall, looking much more reflective than in the moment. As if each other's problems were their own, it wasn't long before Jane's own face had fallen, seeming to know full well what was to come out of Darcy's mouth before she even says it.

Darcy pursed her lips, looking as serious as I think her capable, giving Jane her full attention. "He would want to know, you know. About everything."

From the way her eyes had softened, identically to whenever Thor was mentioned, I knew instantly who he was. Shuffling in my seat, I knew the moment was not mine, but I longed to ease the tension. "Thor doesn't know about your nomination? I bet he'd be ecstatic."

"He would be." For the first time, Darcy looked at me as if I were a normal person. "He's one of the most supportive people I know. I keep telling her that. I think she forgets that she's the one who made him so empathetic."

A hesitant moment passes by as if Darcy, herself, had to give its permission to leave. She takes that time to properly size me up, deciding something much more profound, like if I were able to join them any further. Her eyes flicked to mine, warning me of the intimacy, the severity, to be found in the next moment, and somehow accepting me to be apart of it.

Slowly, she turns her head to Jane, finding her in a struggle to keep some sort of smile. "I get who he is, but don't you dare think that he doesn't appreciate how life short is. He doesn't take it for granted anymore...not with you."

I could tell Jane hadn't expected her to be so blunt. Had I not seen what I'd seen earlier, I wouldn't have caught the significance.

But I had.

I watched her take in a long breath, not necessarily looking at anyone as she took her seat again. Darcy and I shared the quickest look as we gave her a moment, but I was selfish.

"Jane," I whispered, hoping the word reached her like a soft caress would have felt.

Not that I expected her to break down, but I was surprised when she turned to me fully, taking the moment in stride.

"It's uh...It's been a while since he's been here. Probably a month or so? I hadn't had the chance to tell him about the nomination before he left..." I noticed her look to Darcy from the side of her eye before refocusing. "Safiya, after I saw you last, and came back here, it found out that the travel to Asgard had sped up the process of a pre-existing condition. It's kind of ironic, right? That a trip to the realm of Gods could be so deadly. I've laughed about it a lot-"

Darcy groaned. "It's not funny."

Noting Darcy's sincerity, Jane took the hint and cleared her throat. "The space travel had progressed my breast cancer ten times it's initial reaction time. So I couldn't go with him on whatever expedition he had even if he asked. I quite literally wouldn't survive it."

I felt like my entire chest plummeted to my stomach.

I wanted to take her hand in mine, knowing that words wouldn't make anything better, but I supposed that coddling her wouldn't be appreciated either. It's been rare, moments like these, where I want to heal someone so bad and have no way to. So rare, in fact, that I curse myself each time they come because of my inadequacy in comforting anything. I wish I knew how to handle it. I wish I knew another way of justice other than killing the problem. Because it's in these moments where there's nothing I can kill, nothing I can do, and the realm of emotions render me helpless once more.

"He would have stayed," I soothed, narrowing my eyes. "I couldn't ever see him leaving you if he knew."

Releasing a breath, she shook her head. "There's nothing I would hate more. I hate the idea that I can't do things. I would hate the idea of him staying back, wasting his time. I don't want him seeing me...deteriorate." Reluctantly, she opens her eyes. "He's a God, who lives for thousands of years. If he were here, I would have to think every day about how I'm nothing but a second in his lifetime. How short my life is. How much shorter it will be now. It just- It messes with my mind."

While Jane looked to her hands, I shot a glance at Darcy once more, silently assuring that each move to talk I made was okay. At this time, I didn't care who was dominating the space. We had a common interest.

I mouthed over to her, "How long?"

Her sober eyes abandoned my question and watched Jane for a moment. Then, on her own time, they came back to me as she held up a hand.

Five years. Five fucking years.

The muscles in my jaw worked incredibly. I had lost the girl that Jane reminds me of decades ago, but at her loss was the first time I felt rage. Rage, to a degree no one should. I could recognize it's yearning for justice, the sense for how nothing about it made sense. The helplessness of it.

There was an ache, too, one that could understand her feelings to some degree — how neither of us could survive being with the person we want.

"Hey." Maybe, I'd said it a bit too loudly, too defensively to be stable. Nonetheless, I put a hand over her knee and got her attention. "Fuck them and their excessively long life spans. It's them that have lost touch with normalcy, not you."

Says the enhanced assassin.

Oh, shut the fuck up.

"You've got work to do, awards to win, universes to discover, STEM men to embarrass." I shuffled around the papers in front of us as she starts laughing, picking out some of her details that I'll force her to elaborate on again. Anything to keep her going. Because there is no way, absolutely no way in hell I would let anything stop this again. Not breast cancer, not any relationship...not any law system, not any greedy companies, not any governments, not any Iranian forces, and not another death.

No, she will finish her work, and no one's going to take anything away from her. Not if I have anything to do with it.

Taking in the smile on her face, I relaxed just the slightest. "Did you put together your official proposal yet?"

"Working on it." Darcy piped up from her seat and started towards her backpack. "We are 93% finished. We just need a killer ending. Something to give all these old white guys a heart attack."

I grinned. "Let me be useful while I'm here. I'll help you out."

Evidently grateful for the distraction, Jane beamed at me, the easy playfulness taking her features again. "It's an honor, Dr. Natalle," she teased. I rolled my eyes.

It's been maybe a decade since I heard that.

Jane turns to the table in front of us, moving papers around herself. With the help of Darcy, they collect a good amount of the work in order of their series until, "Damn, I think we left the second quarter of it at the lab."

Darcy leaned in. "Yeah, that's the bit you wanted to retest. I'll text Ian and tell him to run it over."

"No need." Jane's eyes find mine, excitement filling her eyes. "You wanna go? I want to grab a few more things to take home for the weekend anyway."

"Sure." I smiled casually, helping her gather up her things. "What lab do you work out of?"

She stood from the couch, grabbing her bags from around the apartment. "Well, ever since S.H.I.E.L.D. ransacked my old place, I found it more discrete to work in the same space as a few other scientists. Pym has been awesome."

As if time and space had crashed together, I saw the world before my eyes move in slow motion, and I felt the weight of each concurrent moment like it would have been my last. I froze, completely.

What did she just say?

Never in my life had I felt my entire body run cold. If they weren't so preoccupied with getting their own things together, they would have noticed how I had dropped everything in my hand, a whole stack of papers now spread across their table.

"Pym?" No, I'm going to throw up. "Hank Pym?"

"Yeah," she cheered, turning to me. "I didn't really know how to bring it up. When he introduced himself and the lab, I had no idea that it was the one you used to work out of. Nonetheless, the one your parents practically built!"

No.

Every part of me protested as I slowly lifted my head and met her eyes, forcing a smile to my face. Keeping it put proved to be the hardest thing I've ever done.

Either Jane hasn't noticed the blankness in my eyes or truly she doesn't care, because she kept moving towards the door like everything was okay. "He doesn't really work out of that building anymore...I'll have to explain that when we get there, but I'll call him and tell him about the surprise guest," she laughed, so fucking oblivious.

Despite having spent decades running from that very place, I can't move. Terror paralyzed me whole. For the first time today, I had recognized the presence of my shadow as a blessing. She was always her own darkness, and in this, she would be my only ally.

"Safiya," I heard Jane say my name, and in looking up, I saw both of them standing by the door, waiting for me. "You coming?"

... ... ...

I found it a bit insensitive to question Jane's mortality at a time like this, but I could swear that, now, she was Charon themselves, ferrying me across Acheron to meet my doom. In addition to nightmares come true, I never thought I would ever find myself in a pissing contest with another woman, either, but Darcy was adamant in ensuring I knew hers was bigger than mine.

Jane's car was just large enough, as I couldn't see her buying anything that wasn't practical. So it had a comfortable passenger seat that I fully expected Darcy to take advantage of. Instead, she had climbed in the back with me, sitting with her legs as far as they could go without looking too intentional.

Since she was fully convinced that I had the ability to snap into psycho killer mode in the blink of an eye, I knew it would be easy to play with her, but she also had this strange confidence that told her she would be able to take me, and anyone else she wanted to challenge, for that matter. The bitch kind of scares me, like, for her own well being.

It was a welcome distraction, nonetheless. One that had been able to curb my own turmoil and finally let me remember something I probably shouldn't have forgotten. I cursed myself as I turned to the window, suddenly feeling much more guilty than I had when I broke into their loft. Although I don't care much for Darcy, I do wonder how much more I can impart on Jane without getting her in trouble.

Slowly and cautiously, I cleared my throat. "I should probably tell you...that I'm sitting pretty high on the international most wanted list."

I felt Darcy adjust to take up more room. If the guilt wasn't so heavy, I would have grinned.

From the driver's seat, Jane threw up a dismissive wave of her hand. "We know. Kinda hard not to."

With how okay she was about it, I had to question just what she does know.

There was an uncomfortable silence of a few seconds as I let the guilt eat away at me. Lying, or at least keeping information, used to come a lot easier to me. In my experience, the best way to keep people safe is to keep them in the dark. But this time just felt different. She deserves a choice. An out, of sorts, since this trip probably isn't the smartest idea.

I sighed, "It's kind of a shoot to kill situation."

"That, we didn't know." Without wasting another second, Darcy throws the car door open to the rushing traffic. "Jump, tuck, and roll."

In response, Jane started to yell. All of her sounds were incoherent, but no less important than the last until she found one that made sense. "Darcy!" She whipped her head from the front seat, her hair wild from the wind. "I'm going to have a damn heart attack!"

"Ugh, don't get greedy." She rolls her eyes. "Don't you think cancer is enough for you?"

My mouth fell open.

Unphased, Jane shook her head, not caring about the honks and swears from the cars around us. "Close the damn door!"

The two stared each other down as if this was a matter of strict principle, and although I have no idea what code of honor Darcy is living by, I can assume its set on eliminating me. Thankfully, it seemed she had enough of Jane's scrutiny after just a moment and finally closed the door on the chaos.

I waited until we all caught our breaths, giving me a moment to get my thoughts together.

"She has a point, Jane," I reasoned, even though Darcy threw me a look like she was disgusted that we would ever share a thought. "This is a danger I don't want to put you in. The lab..." this is fucking awkward "...Well, my parents..."

Successfully halting me in my thought, we drove past the lab at that moment, the one I once knew too well, and Pym's name was nowhere to be seen. In its wake stood a building twice its size with the name "Cross Technological Enterprises" to brand the change completely.

I could feel that my face had fallen rather resentful of the fact. "Who the hell is that?"

"Darren Cross," Darcy spat out as if she had just learned the name of her arch enemy. Warmest sympathies to him. "Bald, self-made millionaire. He actually used to work for Pym, then ended up pushing him out of his own company. It's brutal, really."

"And Hank's just taking that?"

"To smooth over the transition of leadership, Cross gave him a wing of the building to keep him under the same roof," Jane chimed in, "and it looks nice to the staff, but Pym's been skeptical. I think he believes his research is being stolen. I don't know, he doesn't tell us much. He works on his thing, I do mine, and we consult each other when we need it."

A sinister smile grows upon Darcy's lips. "He gave Jane the whole wing in exchange for telling Cross that he shows up from time to time when he actually rarely leaves the lab in his basement."

"But I told him you're coming," Jane added, almost excited, "and he's headed over for the first time in months."

I don't know how to tell her that the only warm welcome Pym is giving me is one where I'm burning at the stake.

Clearing my throat, "So it's just you guys in the wing?"

"Yeah. I mean, with the exception of our consultants and interns, and a few of Pym's friends." Fuck. "It's like a collective of Pym's loyalty, all and severely limited to the only people he trusts. And with that, it goes without saying that they are loyal to you, and your family, by default. So, of course, you can stay in the car, but I couldn't think of a safer place for you to be then around people who know you."

At that moment, I tried to think if there was anything worse in the world than being in a room filled with people that knew me back then, but it is no surprise that I came up real fucking short. I looked to Darcy to see if she would still be as eager to open the car door for me again, but then I eyed my own, for I'm sure it's a milestone in every woman's life when they realize that they are fully capable of throwing themselves out of a car on their own. Then again, what would I know? I'm sure those people in the lab can and will attest to the fact that I didn't necessarily grow up like their own daughters.

If I were like them, I would be considering Darcy's keen observation of my fight or flight response for the better, but her slow forming, vengeful grin told me for worse. I let her know what I wanted, and she knew she was slicing off my wings by locking the doors. Much too dramatically, might I add.

I don't care how pathetic I probably looked already, but I would be damned if I ever let her see just how much of a defeat that was. I drew in a deep breath, and with it all of the rage that would have otherwise turned this car upside down. Instead, my eyes closed to conceal it all and my head fell against the seat.

She didn't know who we would be meeting in that lab. Or maybe the sadist knew exactly what was to come. Perhaps we both knew that I was going to meet her again, as if one step into that place would regress me back into who I once was and all that I felt with it.

I ran a hand down my face as I slowly opened my eyes, making sure the only thing that would get my wrath was the roof of the car. "Jane, I wouldn't say I'm necessarily praised under the Natalle name here."

Jane laughed, laughed, as if it were the most insane idea in the world. "I beg to differ. They still reference your research to this day. It's like a bible."

A fake, terribly unconvincing laugh slipped from a breath of mine, undoubtedly coming from the subconscious need to dissolve all suspicions and keep me alive. Though all the words coming out of my mouth seemed to want nothing more than for me to crash and burn.

Still staring up at the roof, I let a few beats of silence pass between us all, hoping the hum of the car would fill in the time it would take to maneuver through the parking lot. Yet that disgusting, incessant little part of me knew what I should be asking.

"Jane," I practically whispered, a big part of me hoping that it would be lost to the wind, but her eyes met mine in the rearview mirror, and I definitely stared longer than I should have because I knew it would probably be the last time I would ever see them this forgiving.

"Do you know about me?" I probed. "Why I left the lab? What happened...and how I got here?"

I watched as her eyes dropped and averted mine. She was driving, of course, but they never came back up. She left a silence that killed.

It wasn't until she pulled into a parking spot at the far end of the lab and shut off the engine before she fell back into her seat with a sigh. "No. Nothing other than the recent news," she finally spoke, "and I don't really care. I get that's probably stupid—"

"It is." Just when I forgot Darcy existed...

"But I met you a decade after whatever happened, happened. A whole decade. I know that probably means little to you, but that's a whole damn lot of time to me. Enough to understand that if anyone truly thought you did something wrong, you probably wouldn't be here right now."

Without hesitation, she turned in her seat to face me.

"The files at the lab talk about your family and your time there, even mention of a law career, but then there's a big gap of missing time before it says you're wanted for a whole bunch of stuff. I mean, I could probably fill in a little bit of the last few months for myself."

For a second, she looked to Darcy and returned with a softness in her eyes. "Full disclosure, I asked Thor to tell me once since he knows whatever there is in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s file, but he convinced me out of it." She sighed once more, lips settling into a grin of sorts. "He said he's had a lot of practice growing up with discerning the person from the crime."

At that moment, I didn't care to hide the way my eyes eased. I knew she wouldn't know that of all the words she spoke, I only responded to the ones between the lines.

Him, always.

I should have expected that he'd be here, somehow, at the times when I'm most vulnerable. He'd love the idea of doing something so conniving and self-aggrandizing, that he would justify this as the need to show them how powerful I can be. There is a sort of justice in causing so much panic and fear in a city that has broken you. He would understand that all too well. And perhaps that's the very reason why the thought of him reminded me that I'm not a stay in the car kind of person.

Thus, I know that an appearance in this lab, no matter how hidden from the outside, will be my entrance back into this world. The timer for my head starts as soon as I take my first step into the building. Honestly, I'd rather get it over with sooner than later.

Considering Jane, however, there is no way I would let her go down with me.

"You two go in first and I'll follow a few minutes after," I said as casually as something like that could possibly sound. Luckily, it only took a moment for Jane to nod her head. "Is there a camera at the door?"

"Just two. Do you want me to get to the security room and, uh, distract them?"

For the first time since I met her, Darcy looked, dare I say, intrigued.

Happily destroying that excitement, I shook my head. "It would actually pain me to have you get any more involved."

"Come on!" Darcy scoffed, "We're kind of like Hank's spies already."

Jane's eyes shot wide. "Don't say that. That's like, literally corporate espionage."

"Okay Miss 'distract the security guard'. I have a little feeling Safiya doesn't worry about that sort of thing."

"I really do appreciate it," I cut in. "but if anyone asks, please just say that you have no idea who I am. Or if anything goes south, just spill it all."

It was hard to know for sure what they would do considering that I heard both a 'No!' and a 'Sounds good' at the same time.

"Alright, let's not stall this." Putting on a baseball hat, I secured it on hard with a strength I suppose I needed. I don't know where this confidence came from, nor did I ever think I would be going head on into something that shines the light on all my wrongs, but I suppose death changes you in some ways.

With a sigh, Jane grabbed her bag and a stack of papers and got out of the car. Once Darcy followed suit, they started towards the door, cleverly not looking back once.

I know what I have to do. Living on Earth is my only option, but it's not like that has ever been a limitation before. Sure, it may be more than a hundred countries that want me dead now and yes, I may be amongst the most wanted, but that's why we adapt.

To be honest, if I hadn't thought to bring the flash drive with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s 'mystery agent' information, I probably would cut my losses. But if I want to still be around in 24 hours, this was my only chance of insurance.

Nick Fury will probably track it the second I get it onto a computer, and with luck, the exchange will bring me to Natasha instead of the electric chair.

I took a deep breath and found myself in the rearview window, and although I didn't fully recognize who I saw, I knew that would change after I went in.

"This is smart. This is good," I whispered to myself. I shook out my hands and straightened up and did anything that could help. "This is worth it."

Before I could allow myself another thought, I stepped out of the car, eliminating any chance of going back.

Despite how infuriating this shadow of her has been, no one else in this entire universe has fought so hard to keep me alive. Thus I knew the confidence I felt more with each step towards that door was that of a seasoned assassin who had done this before. She knows what it will take to spark global manhunt. She knows right when I reach those cameras that I'll be the top story, like all those years ago. And she knows that this preparation is needed to meet the version that came before her, to which she deems the worst of us.

That's why when I had finally reached the door, I wasn't so surprised that I took my hat off. I knew this was all in.

I turned my head up to the cameras and smiled.

...

AUTHORS NOTE

HeEy. Haha. Hey.

My entire inbox since the last update:

I missed you all, severely.

I know this was the longest an update has ever taken, and I do apologize on making you wait, but I would be more sorry if I gave you a version of this chapter that makes me want to die, and will ruin the experience for you. I think about this story every day, and if I'm not writing, then I'm planning things out and outlining scenes for like Book 2 chapter 23. What I mean to say is that there is no way in hell im not finishing this story, no matter how long it takes.

BUT

No Writer's Block Corona Virus
🤝
Spicing up my spring break

I've finally gotten some time this semester.

Also, I missed you if I haven't said that already, and i wish it weren't a scientifically, proven fact that I have the greatest readers because otherwise I would tell you that.
I hope school is good and your job is enjoyable and your kids are nice to you and your partner is giving you all the love you deserve and that your single, fat ass is having the time of your life and that you are doing everything you want to be doing at the moment.
And I know I'm joking around with thanking the Corona virus for giving me time to write, but please keep yourselves safe, and I hope you all have a happy and healthy few months. Read some books, go on a run, learn to cook, take a nap. Go take a fucking nap.

ALSO, ALSO

This is exactly how I picture Safiya talking to herself:

ALSO, ALSO, ALSO,

I do remember saying that Safiya's past would be revealed in this chapter, and I do know that this is a filler chapter, but you know I can't shut the fuck up so I had to end up splitting this chapter into two.

ALSO, ALSO, ALSO, ALSO

Im very interested in people's opinions of Jane Foster. If you've read the comics, I'm assuming your take is pretty different. In my opinion, marvel did her so dirty. But this is what fan fiction is for. She will get justice here, in due time.

And thank you for 27k?? What the hell??

Questions, concerns, or absolutely flame me:
Here