Just myself

Chapter Seven - Ugh

When I emerge from the shower, my hair is slicked back onto my scalp and my face runs with the crystal waters but the pain has subsided a little. I pull my clothes back on and, turning to the mirror I summon a hairbrush to comb through my hair. Once satisfied, I leave my room to go back to the sitting room and, would ya look at that, fifteen minutes exactly.

"Stark, your shower is spectacular." I say as I meander into the room. "Everyone should have ones like that, seriously, I don't know what all the buttons do but they were pretty." I stop short as I feel five pairs of eyes snap to me.

"You're late, I told you five minutes." Tony snaps.

"Yes, well, you limited my powers and, if you hadn't, I would've been on time."

"If I hadn't, you would've been gone by now."

"But I wouldn't have been late." I joke. "Gonna introduce me?" Now I turn my attention to the visitors. They have changed much. The bigger one steps forward, bowing his head slightly. 

"I am Thor, son of Odin, protec-"

"Yeah, I know, Thor. I don't need all of the other crap." A smile spreads across my face. "I'm Elizabeth, nice to meet you." For a moment, I am scared that I went too far with the joke for his brow furrows and he tenses a little but then his eyes light up and he chuckles a hearty laugh.

"I like this one. Elizabeth, a pleasure." He takes my hand in his own and kisses it lightly. As he stands, he whispers in my ear "I am sorry for my brother." He straightens and turns to the smaller, darker haired man. "Elizabeth, this is my brother, Loki."

"Hi." I step forward. My heart races but not out of love like in every cheesy romantic novel that I have read at three in the morning, crying with ten pints of Ben and Jerry's. No. Out of fear. This man nearly destroyed me a year ago and now he stands, calmly, before me with not even a single idea of who I am. If I were to let myself go, I could rip his head off right where he stands. I would show him no mercy. I can't do that though. Too risky... but it does sound fun...

He doesn't respond so I step closer to him. "Your royal arse? You going to acknowledge my existence?" I poke him on the chest. You know, in the past, people have told me that I have a death wish and now I am beginning to think they might be right.

He snaps an arm around my neck, pulling me around and my back into his chest. "I am by no means a royal donkey, love. Be careful." I expect him to try to choke me or something but he simply lets me go. I turn to a chair and sink into it, ignoring the confused looks directed my way by the people in the room because, really, I don't even know what I would say If I were to answer their questioning stares. "So, why are you here? You two, I mean, I know you own the place, Tony."

"I wish to help my brother to become a better person. I thought that maybe showing him the world he tried to destroy would be a good idea, maybe we could start a flame of compassion in his cold dead heart." Though it is a joke, Loki could actually be dead inside for all the emotion he shows. Well, actually, that's a lie. He shows plenty of hatred.

"Okay, sounds great. Now, if you don't mind, I'm just going to go an-" I begin to leave the room, intent on finding a way to get these bands off of my wrists but Tony interrupts me before I can leave.

"Nope, not so fast."

"What? Why?"

"You're gonna babysit Loki."

"What? No! I'm not babysitting a psychopath!" I object, racing back to Tony and squaring my shoulders. "You cannot force me either."

"Actually, we can. You see, this is the job I brought you here to do. You do this and you will earn our protection."

"I will not babysit the man who very nearly killed me. If you have footage of New York then you saw what he did to me. I refuse." My voice gets dangerously low as I reach the end of my tirade but it seems to work because Tony seems, for a moment, to reconsider. Then I hear a voice from behind me. "Wait, I nearly killed you? I do not remember that." Oh well, looks like someone else is now the subject of my fury. I spin around, my hair flying behind me. "Let's see shall we. There was a woman on the bridge that day. She was fighting to save the families dying around her, the homes burning before her eyes. She is just pulling a six year old from the rubble and ashes of a car when, from behind her, she hears a shout of 'Puny mortal, you can not stop this'. Who was that? Oh yeah, you. She transports the child to a safe place and turns to you. You see," I take a step toward him "there was a fire in her that pushed her to save every one of the people on the bridge that night." I see a flash of recognition in him. "She tried to fight you and what did you do? You thrust your spear straight through her stomach. And to prove that she could not stop you? You dragged that poor boy back, screaming, and slaughtered him before her eyes." He now looks a little afraid. He leans away from me in every way possible except stepping back because that would be weakness and, of course, he cannot show any of that. 

"If I stabbed you then how are you here?" He spits into my face.

"Because, there is something that you do not know about me, something you will never know but there is something that I do know, I will never forgive that." Then I turn and flee, back to my room. Why did I run? Because I felt a strong emotion and then suddenly my PTSD was like 'knock knock, who wants to cry in a ball for two hours straight. You? Oh, well it's gonna happen anyways." I slam my door behind me and slump against it, eyes closed against the pounding in my head. Why does this always happen? I just wish I could be ordinary woman, just for one day.

I sit for ten minutes before I hear a soft knock on my door. "Elizabeth? It's me, Steve. You alright in there?"

"Haha, nope." My laugh is forced and sarcastic but within is a hint of real humour. It's funny really, that's the human response to everything 'Are you okay?' do I fucking sound okay??

"Can I come in?" He asks.

"Sure, why not." I sigh, standing and opening the door to the American dream with eyes like a puppy. "Yo."

"Yo, you're crying." He states as he steps into my bare room.

"No shit." I answer, shutting the door behind him and falling onto my bed.

"What, might I ask, was that all about?" He sits down next to me, gently.

"You heard everything I said."

"Yeah, but I get the feeling it wasn't supposed to come out like that back there."

"Nope."

"You lived. You're here now. So, why are you still upset?"

"Uh... He nearly killed me?"

"Right but you are stressed right now. I get the feeling that that isn't about you're little explosion at Loki back there."

I hesitate, considering my options. Then I decide.

I am going to tell him everything.