Magnus bolted awake, a bead of sweat running down his cheek. Blinking strange green afterimages out of his vision, he turned to look at his alarm clock. 2:27 AM, it read. Still much too early to get up. Magnus closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing, then turned over and laid down again.
But it was no use. The green images, still sticking around as traces of his nightmares, wouldn't leave him alone. He tossed himself over, the pillow suddenly feeling too rough on his cheek. Frustrated, Magnus sighed and sat up again. He would be getting no more sleep tonight, then. Fine, Brain, he thought, Have it your way.
Magnus dragged himself to a standing position, not bothering to change out of his pajamas before shoving shoes on his feet and making his way to the door. Magnus snatched up Jack, who was sleeping on the table he'd claimed as his own, on his way out. The stone hummed disapprovingly in his sleep as Magnus slipped it onto his neck.
Floor Nineteen was dark and still, which was unusual for this particular band of idiots Magnus called his friends. Most of the time, you could hear Mallory screaming at Halfborn or Alex chucking a pot that didn't turn out right against the wall until the early hours of the morning. But now, nothing. Magnus slumped over a little more as he quietly tiptoed down the hall. Even though it usually annoyed him to hear their antics at four in the morning, right now, hearing his friends being dumb would help. If nothing else, it would remind him that the things he saw in his nightmares hadn't come true yet. That he was here, and safe, and not alone yet.
Magnus slipped into the elevator, flinching at the music that played when the door opened. If his friends were asleep, then he sure didn't want to disturb them.
After pushing the close door button at least fifty times, the elevator finally started to descend. Magnus leaned back against one of the walls, crossing his arms. Did he have a clue where he was going? No. Did he even know why he was leaving instead of just busying himself with a book or something until it was time for breakfast? No idea. But something inside him made him itch to get out of Valhalla. Cabin fever, he supposed.
Except, no, it wouldn't be cabin fever, because he'd just gone out yesterday. Only, like, six hours ago, he and Alex had returned from a whole day spent at the Chase Space, welcoming some new kids that had shown up in the past week. So what was inside him, itching to get back to Midgard, now?
Magnus rubbed his stinging eyes as the doors opened on the bottom level. He could hear distant shouting a few rooms away, but other than that, it was just as quiet as upstairs had been. Magnus slipped outside and tried to find his way to Midgard.
About an hour later, Magnus found himself perched atop a building in Boston. The red brick stretched higher than most of the buildings around it, so Magnus had a pretty good view of the headlights milling around on the streets below. Some of the plaster near the top of the building, where Magnus was sitting, had chipped away, and Magnus' feet dangled over the edge, resting on an old billboard tacked to the side of the building. Whatever advertisement that had been posted there had peeled off and been torn away, leaving the washed out colors unrecognizable as whatever picture it had been. Magnus' eyes still stung.
He was just thinking that maybe he should try to sleep here, and maybe his brain would let him now, when the hair on the back of his neck raised up. Slowly, he raised his hand to his neck, ready to grab Jack if needed, but the blade was still sleeping. Now Magnus was positive that there was a figure standing behind him. Without Jack, it would be difficult to fight, but if he could wake Jack up-
"Hello!" came a voice behind him. Magnus relaxed immediately upon recognizing the voice, and he turned around.
"T.J.?" he asked. Sure enough, his einherji friend was standing on the roof behind him, giving Magnus a little smile. "Jeez, you startled me. You shouldn't sneak up on people like that."
"Sorry," T.J. said with a smile, sitting down next to Magnus. "You looked deep in thought. I didn't want to disturb you."
"So, T.J…." Magnus tapped his palms on his thighs awkwardly. "What, uh… brings you here?"
T.J. laughed sheepishly. "Oh, I followed you. Sorry about that."
"You followed me? Why?"
"You looked upset. I was going to see if you wanted to talk."
"Oh." Magnus focused his gaze back on the cars down below. "I'm not… upset. Not really."
"No? I can't think of why else someone would be awake at this hour."
Magnus was about to say, but you're awake, too, when he noticed the deep bags sitting under T.J.'s eyes. Oh.
"It's… not that big of a deal, really. Just, you know, nightmares and all."
T.J. hummed in agreement. "If I can't relate to that."
"You?" Magnus' gaze shot back up. "But you're always so… cheerful. I wouldn't think you…"
T.J. just smiled again. "So, Magnus, these nightmares… do you want to talk about them?"
Magnus laughed nervously, pulling his knees up to his chest. "Uh… Well, I mean, it's really nothing. Especially compared to- y'know, to all that you've been through."
T.J. rolled his eyes- a strange move for the usually relatively unsarcastic fellow (Relatively. As in, compared to the rest of Floor Nineteen, who were all sarcasm machines). "Magnus, didn't anyone ever tell you that suffering isn't a contest? You have just as much right to be upset as anyone else, as long as you don't put their feelings down by doing so."
"Yeah, yeah," Magnus mumbled.
"Plus," T.J. grinned. "You're, like, eight, so."
"I'm sixteen!" Magnus protested.
"Yup," T.J. agreed, "Practically an infant."
Magnus scoffed, but a smile tugged at his lips. "So, then," T.J. continued. "Do you want to talk about it or not?"
"Ah, they're just… well, most of the time they don't even make sense. Flashing lights, or bloody hands… I don't know." Magnus shrugged, but T.J. nodded, encouraging him to keep going. "And, of course, Loki is there… a lot of the time. All the time. His voice… well, I'm sure you know." Almost everyone on Floor Nineteen had admitted to hearing Loki's voice crawling around in their skull at some point or another. "And then, um…" Magnus trailed of suddenly. "Well, yeah. That's it."
"And then what?"
Magnus hesitated. "And then there's my mother," he admitted. "I mean, after what Hel said… that I would see her again, and all that, I can't stop thinking… what she'll think when she sees me."
"You think she will be ashamed," T.J. guessed. "Or angry."
Magnus nodded.
"I think I understand," T.J. said softly, a faraway look appearing in his eyes. "Back when I was alive… after my brother died, my mother became determined to keep me out of trouble. But with how I couldn't refuse a fight… well, trouble was very difficult to avoid, for me. Once I joined the war…" He sighed. "I would be lying if I said I didn't feel guilty sometimes. That my mother wanted nothing more for me to be safe and alive, and that I was deliberately risking, even forsaking both of those things… I was convinced that she would be ashamed and angry, too."
"Was she?" Magnus asked after a moment of silence. T.J. blinked and turned to Magnus, as if he had forgotten momentarily that the other einherji was even there.
"I don't know. I never saw her again."
Magnus looked away. Some snarky remark about how that totally made him feel better pressed on his tongue, but after a glance over at T.J., he decided against saying it. Still, he had nothing else to say. So they sat silently for a minute.
"But," said T.J. finally, "that's not my point. That was just to show you that I know how you feel. What I mean to say, Magnus, is that your mother will not be ashamed. You were a child. You still are. Not to mention, there's a reason I was drawn to you, back when you first showed up. You're a kind, brave person. Who could be ashamed of that?" Magnus smiled, but T.J. didn't look up.
"And…" T.J absentmindedly fiddled with his sleeve. "And I suppose that my other point is, even if she was angry, life goes on. Or rather, afterlife goes on." He bumped Magnus' shoulder playfully, his normal smile back on his face. "No matter what, us on Floor Nineteen will always know how awesome you are. You'll always have a place with us. Just don't forget that, yeah?"
"Yeah," Magnus said with a laugh. "Thanks for this."
"My pleasure." T.J. stood up and stretched his arms upwards. "Now, how about something sweet? It's on me."
Magnus stood up, too. "I doubt anywhere will be open this early."
T.J just winked. "I know a place."
Twenty minutes later, Magnus was standing in front of a little storefront ice cream shop, shivering slightly. It was the only store on the street with the lights still on, and Magnus saw a little 24 hour sign glistening on the window next to the door. The entire front was full of trinkets, paintings, and various teaspoons. It looked like something Luna Lovegood would run, Magnus thought to himself, remembering his mother's favorite character from the Harry Potter books that she used to read to him at night. They never did get to finish the series.
T.J. charged forward, making somewhere around five thousand different bells jingle when he opened the door. Magnus followed quietly, looking around the inside of the shop. It was almost identical to the outside, with cluttered shelves and small wooden tables. The bright, artificial lights seemed out of place in the otherwise rustic room.
"So, how do you know about this place, anyways?" Magnus asked.
T.J. smiled. "Come on, Magnus. You didn't think, after being in Valhalla as long as I have, I didn't come out on my own a few times?"
Magnus's hand, which had been tracing along a shelf, froze. "How long has this place been here, then?"
Ignoring him, T.J. stepped up to the counter and tapped a bell sitting there. Barely a second after the ringing had stopped, a middle-aged woman with glasses that looked like the frame was made of beads appeared.
"Ah, Thomas Jefferson Jr!" she exclaimed. "It's nice to see you again. What can I do for you?"
"It's good to see you too, Ms. Rose. We're just here for your famous ice cream."
"Well, I can't say no to that. What would you like?" Ms. Rose asked.
Soon, T.J. and Magnus were strolling back to Valhalla, ice cream cones in hand. Once, when Magnus had somehow managed to get ice cream on his forehead, T.J. laughed so hard that half of his own scoop splattered on the sidewalk.
When the two of them were back on the silent Floor Nineteen again, Magnus stopped before heading into his room. "Thanks again, T.J.," he called. "You're the best."
"Thank you, too, Magnus," T.J. said back with a smile.
Magnus walked into his room and collapsed on the bed just as his alarm clock started blaring to wake him up.
He laughed, hit the snooze button, and turned over.
