Book 2: Phantasm [Thor]

Chapter 32

Anya sat in the driver's seat of the truck she drove down the unpaved path. Its large wheels crushed against the gravel below, keeping a low steady speed through the countryside. There was nothing around for miles, taking the unused road around the steep, rugged mountains running parallel with her. The young woman forgot just how beautiful the island of Senja, Norway was with the ocean far on the horizon line that would disappear at times behind the rolling hills filled with lush green grass. Though known to sometimes be a tourist attraction in the warmer months for the most part it remained secluded for most of the year. Especially this far out with the nearest mainland town, Finnsnes, being over an hour drive from where she was now. Windows rolled down the fresh air filled the compartment of the truck and blew through Anya's loose strands of hair making her feel at ease for the first time in days.

Finally, after driving another twenty minutes a house came into view on a hill. The outside was made of wood, with a dark green roof, stone chimney, and wrap around wooden porch. Just off the home sat a garage, big enough to fit two cars, if parked correctly. Stopping in front of the steps, Anya sat there for a few moments observing the abode. It was a bit worn on the outside, due to the weather that would hit the area in the winter months, but with a few coats of stain after power washing the wood it would be good as new. It was home away from home. When Anya first joined S.H.I.E.L.D. she was under the impression she'd have to live near headquarters in D.C., in the helicarrier, or at a secret base while on a mission. It wasn't till the young woman was in the field with Barton and he told her it was possible to live removed from the job. It startled Anya at first and for a while believed that the agent was pulling her leg. But he wasn't joking.

"How?"

"It's simple, I asked," Clint answered honestly. "And I have my reasons... maybe one day I'll show you them."

He knew Anya struggled at first when being released from the hospital after the incident in the desert. She suffered from night terrors, flashbacks if a present situation triggered it, and there was her habit to distance herself from people. Natasha and Clint were the ones to show Anya the ropes. And train her properly. In a way, beating the shit out of dummies during practice was therapeutic. Outside of the therapists and psychologists she frequently visited.

"You need your own place to properly heal and recover when given time off."

"I thought that's what my sessions were for?" Anya asked. "Or am I wasting my money?"

He chuckled. "Yes, there's a reason for them, but you need to do your own healing. Manage to separate your own life from the job. It will do you some good. Take it from someone who's been involved with S.H.I.E.L.D. for a while now."

It wasn't as easy as the man said. Appealing the idea to Director Fury was rather difficult. As if pulling teeth without Novocaine.

"Agent Barton is a special case," the Director stated. "Hell, I'm surprised he even told you. That's off the books per his request. But I cannot allow every agent under my watch to do this... I'll think about it."

A month later the plan was green lit. Anya wondered if Clint twisted the Director's arm for her, though the man would never admit it. To show her thanks, the agent arrived to work and did the job without further distractions, and did as Clint suggested. She looked for somewhere off the grid. Not her hometown or something she knew from family trips as a child. The young woman looked somewhere she'd never been before and somewhere not within the North American continent. During time off Anya went searching in various countries before finding this plot of land. And it was perfect. The last owner had grown old with age and resided in a nursing home, his children wishing to sell it off since they had no use for it. Anya called Clint the moment she finished signing the papers and said,