Asgardian Twilight

The Bulldog, the Princess and the Cave

The car ride was a lonely and somber one for Dean as he traveled away from his parents' home. As he looked in the rear view mirror, he wondered if he would be on the run forever. If he remained a fugitive, he may have to take refuge with Thor on Asgard. While this wasn't an entirely awful fate, he knew he would miss home. Adjusting to Asgardian life would take time, but he knew he could do it if he had to.

Hejira by Joni Mitchell played on his radio as he drove along the lonely country roads. She sang about isolation and finding oneself during a journey, a flight from danger. He was in that emotional state of mind where every song lyric was somehow applicable to his life. When Joni sang about her escape, her freedom, and the sacrifices she made to obtain it, he felt his emotions stir just as powerfully as they had the first time he'd listened to the album.

"I'm traveling in some vehicle, I'm sitting in some cafe, a defector from the petty wars that shell-shock love away," Dean sang along with Joni to the accompaniment of a moody bass and the sound of the road outside of his car.

He smiled. He was, indeed, a defector from the petty wars. He reflected on what had happened recently with the Avengers and felt shame. It was shame for himself but it was also a vicarious shame for the others. They should have stood strong together instead of allowing themselves to fall apart. It was bound to happen eventually, he told himself. With so many strong personalities and points of view he was surprised it hadn't happened sooner. But when it did happen, it really happened.

And James Rhodes died.

Dean shook his head and felt tears threatening. Though he'd never been particularly close to him, his last exchanges with James hadn't been good. He felt guilty.

You can't change that, he thought. He knew this was the truth, but it didn't really make things better.

He focused on the music and lyrics, singing along to drown the thoughts. "In a highway service station, Over the month of June, Was a photograph of the earth, Taken coming back from the moon, And you couldn't see a city, On that marbled bowling ball, Or a forest or a highway, Or me here least of all."

Those lyrics burned into his mind as he imagined how small of his troubles would be if he were looking at the earth, the universe, in total. A speck. That was all he and his troubles were. A speck of dust orbiting the sun. He kept meditating on this in his attempt to curb his emotions.

"They're just so small in the grand scheme, Dean," he reminded himself again and again. It wasn't so much that he was invalidating his feelings; he was trying to force everything into a perspective that would ease him. It felt like he was forcing a circle peg into a square-shaped hole.

Suddenly he laughed out loud. Thor would find this amusing. "You're listening to your sad music again," he used to say when he'd find Dean lost in the music and deep in thought. "Come, put on something happy and we'll dance," Thor would request. Sometimes Dean would do it and find his spirits lifted as Thor spun him around and smiled. Thor, so golden and endlessly positive, was always good at mending Dean, who was prone to melancholia sometimes. He could dig him out of his ruts with something as easy as a smile. Still, there were other times Dean simply needed to feel his feelings and let them run their course. During those times, Thor would stay with him and hold him, providing a safe haven in his strong arms, his chest the perfect place for Dean to rest his head.

"I need that now," he whispered as he changed the music to something less heavy. He was almost to the airport and he would need to present the facade of nothing being wrong. Attracting as little attention as possible was paramount.

He double-checked his baggage when he parked the car. All of his paperwork was in order. His false identity- Jason Ashford- was intact.

"Jason Ashford...that sounds like a porn star." He chuckled to himself as he walked into the airport.