Anathema Reneau [1]

NINETEEN

"I hate you. So much." I wipe the strands of hair off of my forehead, plastered thanks to sweat.

"You're the one who wanted to train the first time you were here. Learn to live up to expectations once you've set them."

"Listen, I told you that I'm not feeling well. You're pissing me off." He stands in front of me, hands on his hips.

"If you're angry, use that. Beat me at least once today."

"I can't. I can't do it."

"You're a coward if you walk away." I stop gathering my things and turn to face him.

"Is it really so wise to be calling your girlfriend a coward? Especially considering how- argh!"

I clutch at my stomach, dropping to the floor unpredictably.

"Ana, love, are you all right? What's wrong? What's happened?"

"I don't-" I groan loudly- "I don't know! ARGH!"

"Come here, come on." His arms come around me, pulling me into his chest.

"It hurts. It fucking hurts." I almost feel tears stinging in my eyes, the pain in my stomach in no way easing down.

"It's all right. Just breathe. It's just an illness, it'll pass before you know it. I apologise about pushing you in training."

"No, no – it's fine. Even I didn't think it was this serious." His fingers thread themselves through my hair, stroking it ever so gently.

I steady my breathing, the pain ever so slightly easing down. I push him away gently, slowly getting to my feet.

"Are you sure you're all right to be standing up right now?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'll go to the doctor later today, I'll..." My train of thought disappears and my legs stop going down a steady track.

"Or," he says, catching my stumble, "you can go rest. I'll have Stark send someone over here he trusts."

"You know I don't like being a burden. That's not how I live."

"Yes, I know you like doing things yourself, but you have to let someone help you right now. You can't even see where you're going at the moment."

"I don't like pity."

"This isn't me pitying you. This is me trying to take care of you and you being too stubborn to accept that."

"Ugh, fine. I'll lie down. But I won't be happy about it." I feel the air around us move and my body lying under a blanket. "And no more teleportation," I say, the feeling of wanting to be sick slowly coming back.

"Just stay here and don't move. I'll sort everything out."

"Just, and listen carefully, please don't make too much of a hassle. It's just a bug that's most likely going around."

"I just want you to get better faster so that we can resume our... normal activities."

"Okay, just go. You're doing my head in with the things you're saying." He grins before walking out, leaving me to close my eyes.

*

My eyes flutter open to meet the window, but instead, I'm met with the curtains drawn and a woman not much older than me.

"You slept a while. Are you feeling better?"

"I don't want to jinx it."

"I'll take that as a yes. My name's Jemma," she smiles. I take in her young appearance.

"You're S.H.I.E.L.D., aren't you? You must be if Stark trusts you."

"What makes you say that?" Avoiding the question.

"You're awfully young to be a trained doctor. S.H.I.E.L.D. only hires the best and brightest. And your accent. Hertfordshire, right?"

"Yes, St Albans. You?"

"Borehamwood. So S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D doesn't exist anymore." She fiddles through some stuff in her medical bag.

"Of course not. But if you guys ever need anything, feel free to call. The law isn't always right."

"Thank you for the offer, but I rather think we should discuss your condition at the moment, not your interest in vigilantes."

"I have a condition now?"

"You've has one for six weeks, actually." She smiles again. "You're pregnant."

"Oh. Oh, God," I whisper, closing my eyes as pain sweeps through my body.

Something inside of me is broken. Everything inside me is broken.

"Ah. So it's not good news. Then I'm afraid you going to have an unpleasant talk with the father."

"He knows?" She bows her head. "He's going to hate me. He won't understand."

"If he loves you, you'll be able to work it out. Do you want me to call him in?"

"Please."

I'm left alone for barely a minute, but it's enough. Enough to have a chill pass through me and the walls to be closing in.

Breathe. I have to breathe.

"I heard the good news. Are we hoping for a boy or a girl?" I stay silent. "Ana?"

"I'm not going to keep it. The baby, I mean." I dare not look at him.

"Whyever not?"

He sits down on the edge of the bed, peering at me. It's quieter than I'd like.

The truth. Now would be the best time to tell him, but I can't. This moment, right now, is where I have to decide what's more important to me.

Is it my identity, the thing I've spent forever building in an attempt to bury my past life? Or the man who's shown me so many wonderful things in such a short time?

"Ana?"

He'll have to understand.

"I can't raise a child with a man I don't love."

And if he doesn't, then I'll have to live with that.

"Wh-What? Ana, you can't possibly-"

"I'm sorry, Loki. My mind is made up. You wanted to know why there's your answer." I get up, straightening myself out.

"So that's it. I'm just some stupid man who meant nothing to you?" I avoid his green eyes.

"Yes. Yes, you meant nothing to me, you never did. I was seeing how long I could..." I take a breath. "How long I could play the game."

"I'd say go to hell, but it seems that's where you came from."

"You have every right to hate me."

"Hate? Hate?! I detest you, despise you. You play people to get what you want, your ulterior motives paving the way for anything you do. To think I was the God of Lies was imbecility. You are far more fit for that title."

"It's too bad you feel that way, but that doesn't mean my feelings have changed either. I don't love you, Loki, I never have. There are some people you just can't feel things towards."

"You're lying. You can't tell me, that after a month you don't feel anything. You promised me you wouldn't lie!" I wince at his words, stopping in front of the door.

"Maybe. Maybe not. But if I were to tell you everything..." I chuckle. "Actually, you'd probably feel exactly the same."

I make the mistake of looking into his eyes, my tears meeting his.

"You really did have me twisted around your finger. I can't believe I fell for such a cruel trick."

"I am so sorry," I whisper, not noticing the split second in which my eyes turn yellow.

And I don't understand why the twinkle returns to his own eyes.