𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗡 | 𝗡. 𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗙𝗙

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧

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There was no sunset in D.C.

The sky was a midnight color, the moon hiding behind its blackness. Light came from the city—little balls of color, little balls of hope.

The Triskelion, the place Truth had called home for the past five years, was one of those little balls of color. Like the city, it didn't sleep. Agents still walked down the hall with purpose, interns shadowing their idols, scientists speaking to each other excitedly in hushed tones. This was the night shift. The world never slept, and so S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't either.

Truth didn't pay attention to the hustle as she walked to her apartment by memory alone. It was intentional, the way she withdrew into herself, reducing the thrum of mental voices to a muffled murmur. In her exhausted state, it was harder to stay within herself. Her mind wanted to jump to the first thing that caught her attention, and giving in would only make it more difficult to push the rest out.

She stumbled into her living room with a lack of grace, throwing her bag somewhere off to the right and into the darkness. She didn't bother turning on the light because she didn't intend to stay up long enough to need it.

Even her tired ears picked up the soft patter of paws, and Truth managed a small smile as something pressed against her leg and meowed.

"Aw," Truth cooed. She crouched to meet her large Savannah cat at eye level, rubbing her ears affectionately.

"Yia sou, agápi mou...mou élipses polí."
Hello, my love...I missed you very much.

Truth yawned as Heidi licked her hands and cheek in welcome and petted her fine, spotted fur for a second longer before standing and ridding her body of its clothing. She threw them in a pile somewhere in a similar vicinity to her bag, knowing some future version of herself would be more than capable of handling the mess later.

It was routine for Truth to take a shower when she returned from a mission. It didn't matter if she was only gone for a few hours or five months. The hot water rushing down her skin washed away everything that wasn't Truth Castello. Every alias she'd used, every persona she had to dress herself in to survive, every sin committed as a means to an end left with the water, leaving her raw and whole.

Leaving the bathroom, Heidi at her heels, she had enough wherewithal to throw on a shirt and underwear before she fell on her bed and surrendered herself to her body.

It felt like only a second had passed when she heard the creak of a door. There was the familiar hum of a shielded mind, the loudness of steps trying to be quiet, followed by the ruffle of sheets as someone sneaked under the covers. Though unalarmed, Truth frowned at the disruption, drifting somewhere in the in-betweens of asleep and awake.

"Aren't you too old to be sneaking into my bed?" she mumbled.

There was a snort.