A Strange Vice (Sequel to Doctor Strangelove)

Chapter Twelve

Rachael looked around her. It didn't seem like anyone was dead, but dozens were injured. Her stomach twisted at the memory that there was hardly any medical supplies in this place. Someone would have to travel to the Sanctum to get more.

Loki loped back in, a huge grin spread across his face as he laughed. "We chased those miserable curs until they could barely run anymore! A few of them even got picked off! You should have seen it, mortal!" Loki chuckled a little more until he saw Rachael's face. "Darling? Are you alright?"

She just looked up at him, more tired than she'd ever been in her life. "Is everyone okay?"

"I think so." The smile was gone now. "Don't look so upset. We won."

"How did she find us?" Rachael muttered to herself. "We haven't been using magic!"

"Your darling husband, probably." Loki shrugged, looking back at the door as the others started to come back in.

Rachael buried her head in her hands. "Okay. I need a minute to think about what to do."

As she was pacing while Loki watched, Wong limped up to her. He was ghostly white and his leg was bleeding from a nasty cut. Rachael's eyes widened when she saw it and guided him to sit down.

"Who did this to you?" She asked.

"Stephen," Wong choked out. Rachael gritted her teeth.

"You'll need to stay down until that heals," she said before turning to the others. "Does anyone here have any medical knowledge?"

No one piped up to give any indication that they did. Rachael sighed before sending Clea to go get some bandages for Wong. Now she'd have to choose another right hand man. She stood up straight and ran a hand through her hair, utterly distraught. She wished everything would just go back to the way it had been. She jumped when she felt someone touch her shoulder, turning around to see it was Loki.

"You don't look good," he remarked.

"I'm fine." She shrugged him off. "I just need some air."

Before Loki could say anything else, Rachael quickly walked away to a small storage room. It was far enough away that no one could find her or hear her. Rachael cupped her hand over her mouth, trying to muffle the sob that was threatening to break through. Someone had died under her watch. She hadn't even known his name. And he had died at her husband's hand.

Stephen. Rachael could hardly believe that she'd seen him again. At first she'd felt horrible for him since he'd looked as though he'd been through hell and back again, but now she felt completely desolate. She was starting to wonder if maybe she'd been the problem in the relationship. She couldn't think of anything else that would make Stephen (who'd been a completely perfect husband before) cheat on her.

It's just hormones. It wasn't your fault. You didn't hurt him. It's not your fault. It's not your fault.

Rachael desperately tried to convince herself, but the damage was done. She felt like a huge failure. Someone had died on her watch and dozens had been injured. She was so overwhelmed by everything and she had no idea where to go. She didn't know who she could talk to. She was hardly close to anyone here, and she didn't want to burden anyone with her problems.

A sob was ripped from her throat. She clapped her hand to her mouth to try and quiet herself, but at this point it was useless. She leaned against the wall and cried as quietly as she possibly could. She prayed that no one found her. But of course, someone was soon knocking on the door.

"Mortal? Are you in there?"

Couldn't Loki just leave her alone for five damn minutes? She didn't want to talk to him or anyone else for at least a week. She just wanted to curl up in this closet and sleep between bouts of crying.