Fixed in the Shadows

When I reach my car in the garage, I stare at it proudly. It's a 1964 Cadillac Eldorado in torquoise. Not very conspicuous for my job, I know, but I'm a sucker for classic cars. Plus, it's just like my hair; by standing out, no one expects me to be a secret agent. I throw my suitcases in the back. I toss my messenger bag in the passenger's seat as I climb into the driver's seat. I sigh as I slam the door and start the Cadillac up. "Whore" by Get Scared starts blasting out of my speakers.

"I know," I whisper. I lean my head against the steering wheel. I begin to sob. I can barely hear myself cry as the music continues to play. A few tears escape my eyes and drip down my face. After about thirty seconds, I pull myself together. My head flies up and I turn down the music. I wipe the tears from my cheeks. I check myself in the mirror, fixing my smudged make-up. "You've gotta pull yourself together, Skylar," I whisper.

I then roll out of the garage, beginning my 12-hour drive back home to Grand Rapids. It would only take about 10 1/2 hours but I've decided to go through Detroit. It saddens me that the only Great Lake I'll get to see is Lake Erie. Erie is a pool of toxic waste.

I have always been a proud Michiganian. I don't call myself a Michigander because I think it sounds like a kind of duck. I've lived in the Grand Rapids area my whole life. I have always loved the Detroit Lions, even when they were 0-19. I also enjoy watching the Detroit Tigers. I guess you could call me a classic Michigan city girl.

After driving almost nine hours, I can't keep my eyes open any longer. I decide to stop in a little town called Gibraltar, Michigan. It's about thirty minutes from Detroit. I always prefer to stay at little towns outside of Detroit. Plus, it's right on the water. I pick out a Holiday Inn and check in.

When I enter the room, it is pretty nice compared to the usual hotels I stay in. They're usually tiny local motels. They are cheaper. I bring my bags in the room. I don't bother unpacking anything but my toilettries since I'm only staying for one night.

I pull out my laptop and set it on the desk. I then see my phone at the bottom of the bag. I take it out and check my message notification app. My Forever Alone gadget is still crying. No messages. Steve has not yet texted me. I sit down, sighing. He must still be upset about me leaving so abruptly. I just wanted to get going. And I didn't want either of us to do something we weren't ready to do. I didn't mean to hurt him. I would never want to hurt Steve. He's the sweetest guy I've ever met. I'll just wait for him to text me. I've got to just give him space and time.

I then remember my collar. I grab my bag and pour the contents onto the desk. This includes my choker, a sewing/jewelry kit, some pens from an Italian restaurant outside of Detroit and my notebook I've had since I was 13. It's full of concert tickets, my poetry and other goodies. I get to work on my collar. I use a pair of pliers and trim the ends. I then slowly pull out the spikes along the inside. I don't want to risk slitting my throat while wearing this. I then bend it to reshape it.
The whole time I'm thinking heavily. I'm thinking about Steve. I'm thinking about the rest of the Avengers. I think about goofy Thor. He is so much fun to be around. I think about Loki being taken back to Asgard where Odin will play out his own kind of justice. The government must have been pissed about that. But I'm glad Thor did it.

Natasha is probably kicking herself for being thankful that I was there. She kicked ass too closing that portal. But if it wasn't for me and my avatar episode, the Avengers would have been overwhelmed. Fury was not exaggerating at my trial. Ahh, Nick Fury. I miss him too. He is way too serious for my taste but he's an incredible leader. He really helped us rejoin together and avenge Coulson.

It breaks my heart that Agent Phil Coulson had to be a casualty in this war. He was a great fighter and the best SHIELD agent. I know Tony knew him the longest. But being Tony Stark, he can't show any emotion. Phil and I both shared a secret love of Captain America. He was a fanboy and I was a fangirl. I wish I could have talked about it with him but we never got the chance.

I hate Loki for what he did but I somewhat understand. I can probably understand it more than any of the members on my team. He may have been a prince but finding out you're actually one of the monsters your family fights will rock your world. We're both rejects. He lived in the shadow of his brother. And I just lived in a constant shadow in general. I feel him. I wish I could just talk to him. I wish I could give him a hug and tell him everything is alright. Thor tries to but it doesn't really work. It's not his place.

My thought is broken when I realize I'm finished with my collar. It's now a cute accessory that I can wear with anything. I'm the type of person that can be really sentimental. I really enjoy keeping things from past experiences--good or bad. It just helps me remember who I am and where I've been and what I am.

I decide I need a drink. I change into a new outfit with my new choker. I grab my laptop and messenger bag and head to the nearest bar. Hopefully it will have wifi and maybe a cute guy. I could use some nooky.