It's a Slow Fire of Sorts: Part I

Crashing Down

"Don't be a freaking idiot."

That's the first thing out of Brunnhilde's mouth, when Vers declares herself a villain.

"You're not some kind of evil being. Don't even start with that crap."

"I'm Kree-"

"Yeah, and I'm Asgardian," Brunnhilde says, taking the bottle away and pushing the water closer.

"Marks is Krylorian, Sal is from Xandar, Scrapper Ten-Ten is a freaking fish person- I mean, do you think any of us are exactly shining examples of our cultures?"

Vers doesn't respond. Her fists are clenched. Her breathing has picked up, eyes full of panic and anger. Based on the color of her cheeks, Brunnhilde figures she maybe has about twenty minutes to get this shit into V's head before she goes into 'crazy, vulnerable, time to make bad decisions' territory.

"Listen up, Sweetheart," she says, bringing in a nickname she hasn't used in a long, long time.

"If you're a bad guy, then I'm a flarking atrocity. You haven't killed a single person during this war that didn't deserve it, so don't go second guessing yourself. Everyone knows you're the best part of this whole occupation thing- RIGHT, SAL?"

There's the sound of bottles clinking.

"... What?"

"How much do you like Vers?" Brunnhilde yells, still looking V in the eyes. "Or do you think she's an awful person?"

Sal calls back from across the bar, "I think she's way better than you, that's for sure," and Brunnhilde snaps her fingers, pointing in his direction with a serious frown.

"See," she says. "You're a good person, and that's final. So, let's rewind the dramatic 'bad guy' crap, start with the fact that you're a good person, and go from there."

Vers nods, eyes falling to the table. She's listening. She isn't interjecting or arguing or punching Brunnhilde in the face for talking to her like this. She's just silent.

Her silence is setting off warning bells.

The only time Vers is silent is when she's about to cry, or when she's trying to remember something, and neither of those situations ever end well. Brunnhilde drinks the rest of the liquor- mainly so that Vers can't- and she's hoping that V will berate her for it or demand that Brunnhilde drink water, but she doesn't. She just sits there, hand migrating to the power implant on her neck.

Brunnhilde sighs.

"Talk to me," she finally says. "I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"They need me for something big."

"Okay. What kind of something big?"

Vers inhales, hand falling back to the table. "I don't know, but Yon-Rogg has orders to escort me to the Supreme Intelligence tomorrow, back on Hala. So, I guess I'll find out then."

Brunnhilde nods, "That's a good start-" she says, but Vers interrupts.

"I did the math. On the uh- on the attack at that Skrull base last month..."

"Okay..."

"And I realized that the story doesn't add up." Her voice hitches. Her eyes are scanning the room, like she's worried someone will hear.

"They said they killed ten spies, but there were a thousand bodies marked on the document, and I think it was some sort of refugee colony... so, I looked back a few years, just to check," she whispers. "And the patterns are all the same. I think- D'ast- I think that they're killing innocent people and now I don't know what's real. I can't tell the truths from the lies, but if they are lying about the war, then what else are they lying about?"