Unexpected

Life Goes On

I arrived back at my apartment building late in the evening and trudged up the flights of stairs to get up to the third floor, lugging my bags up with me. It felt so strange being back in the apartment; climbing up the stairs I have escalated a hundred times over. Passing through the hallway, I halted in front of Steve's door. Was he home yet? I didn't notice a light peeking out from under his door, so I assumed not. Unlocking my door, I stepped into my apartment, flicking on the lights.

Everything was just as I had left it. Honestly, it didn't even look like I had been gone for two weeks except for the fact that everything was a just a bit dustier. Unlike being at Grams' and Grumps' house, being back in my very own apartment, for a second it felt as if all the heartache I'd felt had been some kind of cruel dream my mind had concocted. It was so far away from my childhood home and the graves that I had left in Michigan, almost like it was untouched by the sadness. I sighed heavily, dragging my bags to my bedroom. The apartment still felt empty though and my heart still felt like it was being weighed down with lead. It all hadn't been a dream, I knew, and I knew that I would be carrying this new reality with me like a heavy, numbed shawl

The next morning I went to work for the first time since I had received that fateful phone call. I'd put myself together, my hair tied up in a neat high ponytail, mascara and eyeliner decorating my face, and a silken grey, bell-shaped skirt with a powder blue blouse and black flats clothing my frame. I had been planning on wearing Grams' pearls, but in the end I couldn't bear to wear them since I knew that it would put me on the edge of tears to wear them so soon and I didn't want to break down at work. It would also mean replacing Loki's pendant, and I didn't want to do that either.

Walking through the Triskelion's halls, I painted my usual smile on my face, trying to act normal. I remembered how people would react around me after I had lost loved ones before, how they would walk around me like I was made of glass, like if their footsteps were too loud it would trigger me to tears. I didn't want their pitying eyes and soft voices or for them to grow quiet and almost reverent at my reproach as if they were standing in the cemetery with me.

My attempt at normalcy failed though as a few of the people I knew passed me, stopping to offer condolences for my loss. I smiled through them, nodding and shaking hands and thanking them. Steve and Nat both ended up stopping by my office during the morning, asking about the last week in Muskegon, wondering how I was. I knew that they were both just trying to check up on me to see if I was okay or if I was slumped on my desk weeping into the keys of my computer's keyboard. Did I really look and act so fragile? Even Agent Rumlow and his combat division who Steve, Nat, and I sat with seemed more subdued at lunch.

"You don't have to be here if it's too soon for you, you know." Rumlow said, picking at his pasta, "Technically speaking you have until Wednesday to come back from your leave."

"I know." I had barely touched the chicken Caesar salad resting on the cafeteria table in front of me, my regular appetite still not returning to me yet, "I'm fine I swear. It's better for me to be here and be busy and useful than to wallow at home."

The only person who didn't seem to be walking somberly on egg shells around me was Agent Jenkins. Her usual brusque, professional, almost mechanical personality shining through as she handed me several large folders of work this morning upon my arrival. Apparently my absence had truly caused a backup in some of the work with foreign documents. These along with my full email inbox kept me busy, filling my mind with grammar and vocabulary. I must admit that it felt good to be needed, and I appreciated the work, because it helped me get my mind off of the emotions and memories that I had been drowning in over the last few weeks.