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Her bones have yet to stop shaking since the incident. It was bound to happen, for her to lose control. Luckily, it was through her gift and not her programming. Whatever she created killed, but Aura would have done worse.
She has nowhere else to go. Her hideaway is filled with agents trying to figure out what happened, even if she left no trace of her existence. How could she ever approach Natasha or even Steve knowing she is seconds away from exploding again? All those years ago, Loki was right: she is a time bomb.
There is really only one person she knows who might stand a chance if something happens, if the shaking gets worse and worse until it pierces through her skin and echoes through the world. She does not want to go, but what other choice does she have? If she went into hiding now, it would kill her.
Maybe that is the better option.
Despite the thoughts, she can hear her father's voice in her head, urging her past the pain and through the grief. He used to say that nothing is so bad that it won't get better. She used to think he was lying for years, then Natasha found her. Now, she's not so sure.
As she stumbles up to the house, shivering under her large winter coat despite the sun shining in the sky, she hesitates at the door. No doubt, someone already knows that she is here. There is no point in turning back now.
The door opens before she has a chance to knock. "Lady Malka," Thor grins, and his face lights up with relief. "I was beginning to think I would not see you again."
That had been the intention. "Hi."
His eyes narrow for a moment before he steps aside. "Come inside! We're just playing a game the children enjoy. Fightnight?"
"Fortnite?" She carefully steps past him into the warm house. He clasps a hand on her shoulder, noting her small flinch before squeezing gently. "I have, uh, never played, truthfully."
"Oh, well my friends can help teach you, if you want. This is Korg and Meek." Her eyes land on the rock man and creature sitting on the couch, groaning at the television. "Guys, this is my old friend, Lady Malka Laska, hero of Earth. Would you like a beer?"
Malka clears her throat and looks down at her feet. "Do you have tea? Or vodka?"
"We have both." Malka glances over her shoulder at Valkyrie who leans against the threshold leading to the kitchen. "I'll get you some. Let's let his majesty play his game."
Thor chuckles. "I am perfectly content talking with my old friend!" Though, his gaze shifts to the television.
"I'll bring her out after she's had something to drink. Over here, my lady." Malka hesitantly follows Valkyrie into the kitchen, bare as it is. The woman sets up a kettle and offers multiple different tea options. Malka does not even really focus on what she chooses, only thanks Valkyrie when she gets her hands on a steaming mug of tea, adding a splash of vodka to loosen her nerves.
Malka sighs as the liquid passes down her throat. Hopping onto the counter, she makes herself as small as possible before she says, "Thank you."
Valkyrie shrugs, glancing over her shoulder at where Thor and his friends play. "It is no problem. So, why are you here again?"
Slowly lowering the mug from her lips, Malka just looks down.
"Look, I know hopelessness when I see it. Obviously, you are here for Thor, I just want to know why."
"I don't even know why," Malka replies quietly, chancing a look up at Thor. "Not really. I just know... I do not know if I can tell him."
"Tell him what?" Valkyrie crosses her arms, though her brows knit together as if to hide any aggression.
"I..." She knows nothing of this woman. Yes, she did the research and learned what the Valkyries were, but it is all conjecture—myth. What is real and what has been told are very different. She should know after all the misinformation she has suffered. Why tell her anything?
But for a chance at absolution, at relief... Perhaps, it is worth the risk. "I thought I had found a way," she whispers. The words feel forbidden on her tongue. "I had everything I needed. Everything except the one thing that would make it work. I know what I need, and it is just out of reach. It was useless. I thought I had given up, but having hope and watching it crumble is so much worse."
Malka runs a hand down her face as if it can hide her shame. She is supposed to be smart enough to fix this. She created a super serum in only a few months, yet this is unfeasible. In her heart, she knows that another failure will kill her, seeing her work amount to nothing would destroy her soul. The wounds are too fresh, too sensitive.
Maybe recreating Pym particles from scratch with no notes, no previous knowledge, could work. Maybe she could make it, go back in time, kill Thanos before he can even think of this idea even if it would destroy her timeline. If they could live, so be it.
But there is a part of her, hidden behind the martyrdom and the desperation that is selfish. What would happen if she succeeded—everyone she cares for might never know her. She might never break free of her programming, never discover the wonders and cruelties of the world. Might never be with him. Never care for him the way she does now. Never...
She forces the thought from her head. There is no point in thinking thoughts that will only consume her ever moment. They are gone. Nothing can bring them back. Not even Malka Erskine Laska.
She feels Valkyrie's hand squeeze hers, but it is simply numbness spreading through her limbs. Hope is only pain. She has learned that one too many times now. She will not forget again.
✗ ✗ ✗
MY BABY!
Note: The next update will be a little late. It will update over the weekend rather than on Friday due to travel.
