Electric Storm

Epilogue

If you had a choice between what was right and what was wrong....

What would you choose?

Because the lines between right and wrong are not as clear as you think.

If you could tell someone the whole truth about who you really are...

Would you do it?

Do you even know the whole truth yourself?

If you had to pick between love and family or a friend's stranger...

Who would you choose?

And are you prepared for the consequences?

And if you could choose to start again...

Would you?

Because I can't go back. I can only move forward.

If you remember:

"There's so much I can't do. Forget using my powers, I'm not allowed to be unsupervised in public places, I'm not allowed to speak to the press without prewritten speeches, everything I do they have to confirm... I'm not even allowed to go to college without them deciding which one I study at..."

Loki and I sit in silence contemplating the options, but in the end we both know what it's going to be.

So I created a list of everything I needed to fix:

- Me and Dad

-Dad and Mum

-Me and Peter

-Myself

And I made sure to mend the bonds with each person so that when I left, I could leave in peace. 

"If this is going to be the rest of your life..."

"Some of my life. They can't criminalise me forever. Can they?"

Yet I knew they could. Working with Spiderman again proved to me I couldn't stay. I wasn't living the life they had scripted for me and I couldn't keep looking over my shoulder, worried about every move. I needed to be free.

The storm has certainly come. And we did what was needed to see the dawn.

...

I've been flying for a couple of hours now, heading along the strange path to the destination I picked out months ago. I wonder if dad has realised I'm gone. I wonder if he saw the note. I try to shut out the thoughts of his shaking fingers holding the letter, tears brimming in his eyes as he rejects the idea that I could ever leave. That I could ever leave him. I imagine mum holding him tightly whilst dad curses my name. Or perhaps he simply smiles and nods. He knew all along.

Years later dad told me that I must have been gone three or four hours before anyone noticed. I'd picked a good time. With the excitement over the engagement and Happy taking Peter home, no one was worried about me. But then evening came around and no one knew where I was. The search party was sent out: they checked my room and only saw unpacked boxes; they checked my training grounds in the woods and found nothing but charred trees; they called Peter, nothing. And then someone reported a stolen carrier that couldn't be tracked. Dad said that's when he knew. He knew I was gone. And he knew I wasn't coming back.