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A knock at the door is the sound that pulls you from your thoughts.
You’re startled, but you quickly realize that given the careful security measures surrounding your life now, you have no real need to feel scared in your home. Still, you’re not the type to be so easily distracted. You’re not the type to be so wistful either. Yet there you were- watching the tiny little snowflakes fall from the sky through the living room window with your hands folded in your lap. No soft white fur to absently run your fingers through as you coo at the well-behaved dog. No little pink-haired ball of energy to make you laugh and laugh until you forgot about all your troubles. Anya was already fast asleep with Bond by her side, no doubt already snoozing away himself. With them away from your view, you’re alone with your thoughts. You’re alone, overall. And that’s what makes you distracted. That’s what makes you wistful.
But a second knock on your door finally gets you moving. With a sigh, you push yourself up from your spot on the couch. You suppose, you technically won’t be alone for much longer. The visitor at the door makes you certain of it. But for how long? For how long with they stay? For how long with you no longer be alone anymore?
For how long will you continue trying to think of anything that isn’t him.
That thought makes you pause, your lips quickly falling into a frown. It’s so easy to retreat into yourself in moments like these. It makes you happy that Anya is here to see you look so defeated. But it’s not like you can keep yourself distracted forever. You just…
You just hate not knowing .
But there will always be something that you don’t know about him. About Loid. About Twilight. About the man he used to be. About the man he will be. About the man he is today. About his past. His future. His present. His everything. So you hate not knowing. Though you think hate the fact that you’re still not used to this feeling even more right now.
But there’s something you need to do. There’s a door you need to be answering. So you don’t allow your feet to stay rooted into the ground forever. In fact, you make quick of taking step after step to reach the front door. But even though you’re trying desperately to fill your thoughts with all the steps and tips and tidbits you learned about playing the perfect family, your mind still wanders. It’s impossible for it to not. No one is perfect. Everything has its flaws. And you’re only human. You have needs. You have wants. Desires. Hopes. Dreams. You’re only human. You’re only one person. One person, sitting at home alone with thoughts that are almost as out of hand as your entire situation. You’re far from the one in control. The one with all the power. The one calling the shots. The one pulling the strings. Yet you just want to know. You just want to know where he is right now. That’s it. That’s all . That’s all you want to know.
But you don’t. You don’t know. And you won’t.
That’s a normal thing. A thing you should have gotten used to by now. A thing that shouldn’t weigh so heavily on your mind. You know his job. The risks and the rewards of it. And this particular time shouldn’t be that hard to deal with. It’s not the first. And at least, some sad part of you is left hoping that it won’t be the last. But it’s not the longest he’s been away either. Still, it’s these moments when you’re left in the quiet living room with nothing to do but fold your hands over your lap. It’s these moments when you’re sitting on the couch, a noticeably absent presence of warmth haunting you. It’s these moments when all you can do is listen to the clock tick. These moments when all you can do is look outside the window.
It’s these moments when all you can do is think about how long it’s been since you’ve seen him.
You know that there will be days when he has to disappear for hours and hours. You know that there will be weeks when he’ll have to go away for days at a time. Months when he’ll be gone with a full week. And quite possibly- there might be a time when he’ll be gone for the rest of your life. And despite it all, it’s your duty to keep up appearances. To make sure Anya gets taken care of. For the sake of her life and the mission. For world peace. But it’s not your duty to worry. It’s not in your job to ponder what they have him doing. It’s not your duty to wonder when the next time you’ll see him. It’s not your place to want to see him again. It’s not, it’s not, it’s not.
And yet, you never knew the meaning of home until this mission. Until you met him .
A third knock sounds, and this time you have the decency to call out to the person behind the door that you’ll just be a minute. You’re lucky that the person behind the door seems very patient despite visiting you at such a late hour. Though you have a feeling that it’s one of the older ladies down the hall about to rope you into something now that they know it’s past Anya’s bedtime. That thought finally brings a smile to your face. You try not to think about how that smile is forced. You’re far too busy trying to hide the thoughtful sadness that wants to hide behind it. It’s the very least you could to do to be kind to yourself. To think of old ladies coming to your door with gossip about their son’s fiance or their daughter’s new boyfriend.
To think of anything other than opening the door and seeing an agent on the other side- announcing the death of a family member.
The only family member you know isn’t safe and sound and sleeping at home in his bed right now.
So you don’t. You don’t think about it. You don’t, you don’t, you don’t. You paint the smile on your face a little bit wider. You let the light shine in your eyes a little bit brighter. You smooth down your clothes. You fix up your hair. You take a deep breath because you aren’t thinking about the fact that he could be absolutely anywhere right now. You don’t think about how at any second of any minute, he could be hurt. You don’t think about how he could already be dead and you just don’t know it yet. You don’t, you don’t, you don’t.
You just stop in front of the door. You just twist the knob that unlocks it. You just pull the door open. You just look out into the face of your visitor. And you just-
“Hi, honey. I’m home. I'm sorry I made you wait so long. ”
“T-Twilight…”
Welcome your husband home.