Ghost of You

t w o

When I was twelve, my Dad took me to the Museum of Natural History. I can remember it all vividly, a singular memory so ingrained in my mind I could have sworn not more than a day had passed since. It was a small piece of my past stored constantly in my present.

It was a humid summer afternoon, the kind that made my hair stick up in frizzy wisps around my head. We had strolled leisurely through the every exhibit, trying to absorb as much information as I possible could. I was always fascinated by learning about the people of our past, standing proudly in the glass containers for all to see. I had always wondered how many of them knew that one day they would be remembered in this way. Had they known the work they were doing was so important that they would one day end up here, immortalized for everyone to see and remember their accomplishments? Or had it just been another day at work? I could still see him staring at the statue of Eleanor Roosevelt. Could still see the glimmer of hope in his eyes and hear the confidence in his voice as he said, "one day that's going to be you."

My father had always dreamed of me doing something important. He had sacrificed so much to get me into the right schools and programs, all so I could make a difference and work somewhere worthwhile. When I left my old job to work for Tony Stark he was furious. He was still unconvinced that Tony was anything but a rich playboy, who had built his fortune at the cost of innocent military lives. I knew Tony was more than that, even if my dad was too stubborn to see it. This job was my chance to make a real difference, I could feel it. For the first time after years of working for suffocatingly boring politicians, I was doing work that I was proud of. This job meant everything to me and I'd work my ass off day and night, seven days a week if it meant he would understand that. Even so, I could still see the disappointment etched on his face, could feel it weighing heavily on my heart and my consciousness, carrying it with me as a constant reminder of what was at stake.

These were the thoughts that had invaded my mind, capturing my attention every moment I spent in the office. I was completely consumed with giving this job everything I had, determined to not let anything or anyone distract me from my work. I was so convinced that if my Dad could just see that, he would realize why I was right to take this job, that he might even be proud of me. 

The sun was setting in the narrow window-lined hallways of the office, signaling the close of another hard days work. Technically I was already off the clock but I still had a few things I wanted to take care of before leaving. Walking along the inside wall, I could feel the caffeine that had been charging me throughout the day slip away. I zoned out, no longer paying attention to where I was going as my hands tried to rub the sleep from my tired eyes. I turned the corner sharply, immediately walking straight into another wall. Only it couldn't have been another wall because I knew for certain there was no wall in that space. I stumbled backwards a few steps trying to regain my balance when two arms landed on my shoulders steadying me. 

"Apologies Miss, are you alright?"

I looked up as I heard what I had thought had been a wall speak to me. An extremely tall man with long blonde hair was staring down at me in concern. He was wearing what appeared to be full battle armor, a long red cape draping from his shoulders and fluttering just above his ankles. If that wasn't enough for me to realize who he was, the large metal hammer tucked under his arm gave it away. 

"Yeah, I'm good." I replied, reaching up to rub the bridge of my nose tenderly. I could already feel a bump beginning to form. Brick Wall Asgardian one, (Y/n)'s Nose zero. 

"Are you sure?" He asked unconvinced, his arm reaching out and moving my hand out of the way so he could get a better look. I was slightly startled as his face bent down over mine, eyes narrowed as he assessed the damage. As I quickly tried to regain my composure, two more people had turned out from the same corner behind him.