Meagan's eyes flickered open at the touch of something rubbing against her arm, which lay beside her flat against the hospital bed. She couldn't see the interior of the dim-lit room, her eyes felt heavy as they adjusted to the darkness. She'd realized she was in a hospital bed earlier, but awaking for the second time that day, she noticed there was something different within the room's walls. A figure stood hovering over her, a hand gently grasping hers. Another couple of seconds and Meagan could clearly see her visitor's face, which shined wet with tears. Her lips slowly stretched into a weak smile. She partially closed her eyes again, but only for a moment.
"Hey, you." she sad, her voice hardly rising above a whisper. "I was wondering when you'd come visit me."
Charlotte smiled down at her friend. She lowered herself in the chair just beside the bed, her other hand covering that of her friend's. She brought Meagan's cold fingers to her lips, a form of apology. How pale Meagan looked. When Charlotte first entered the room, she'd burst into tears at the mere sight of her. She'd never seen her friend in this state before, and she couldn't help but blame herself for what had happened.
"I would have come sooner," Charlotte finally breathed, sitting up in the chair. She couldn't lie to Meagan, not like this. It would break her. "I was held back," she simply added. Meagan nodded, though inside she didn't quite understand. She was too tired to ask, too tired to drag an explanation out of Charlotte. She just wanted to enjoy her best friend's company before she fell asleep again.
"Are you alright?" Meagan asked. Charlotte nodded. She laughed a little, admiring her friend's strength.
"Just like you, worrying about others even in this state." Charlotte pointed out. She wanted to say something clever to make Meagan feel better, but "That'll be the death of you, you know" sounded a bit inappropriate. Her grip on Meagan's hand tightened a bit. "How are you doing?"
Meagan let out a small laugh, but gasped at the pain in her belly. Charlotte leaned toward her in worry, but Meagan assured her she was fine with a wave of her other hand. She took a deep breath, then smiled again. "Like I've been stabbed in the gut." she said. It would have sounded more sarcastic would she have had a little more strength to project in her voice. Charlotte knew exactly how she'd sound.
More tears trickled down the soft skin of Charlotte's cheeks. Her smile faded, replaced by a look that mirrored how quilty she actually felt. Meagan's brows furrowed and she rose her free hand to wipe the tears away. "Char . . ."
"It's all my fault," Charlotte cried. She sniffled in hard, feeling as if she would vomit again (she held in this feeling, for Meagan's sake). The pain in her chest grew thicker as Meagan wiped her face dry. "I shouldn't have called you that night. If I had left you out of it, you would be fine, now."
"Oh, Char. You think I wouldn't have noticed something was wrong with you after the fact?" Meagan asked. She attempted to sit up, but the agony in her stomach prevented her to, but she tried her best to hide it from Charlotte. "I would have told you about the ball regardless. If this is anyone's fault, it's mine. I was the idiot who attacked him, even knowing what he was."
Charlotte violently shook her head. Her palms grew wet with sweat as the guilt roused within her, traveling to her throat. She was certain Meagan could see it pouring out of her nose, her ears, and the words that came out of her mouth. "If I had just come to the city the first time you asked, if I hadn't let my fear get the better of me, I would have never found the tornado. This never would have happened."
"Charlotte, no." Meagan said, her tone stronger than before. It hurt, but she needed Charlotte to hear her clearly. "I knew you weren't ready to leave. I knew you couldn't. I was pushing you too hard." Charlotte could hear the pain in her voice, she could feel the energy being drained from her at her attempt to appear less feeble than her body was. Charlotte didn't argue, she didn't want her friend to get too worked up. She wasn't going to agree with her either, even though she kind of wanted to. Kind of.
Meagan sighed. She brought her free hand over the others, staring earnestly into her best friends eyes. "I know you miss him." she said, which led Charlotte to look away. She hated bringing this subject up with Meagan. Meagan had tried so many times for so long to get her to talk about it, to listen to her advice, but Charlotte never did. She pushed it away, sweeping it under the carpet for another day, a day that never came. Even if Meagan got her to sit and talk to her, she never did anything but ramble and rage and hate the world, wishing everyone would stop telling her everything was going to be alright. Finally Meagan just stopped bringing the topic up, and Charlotte huddled into herself without a care in the world. They went half a year without speaking to one another, until Charlotte finally realized how childish she was being.
To hear Meagan bring him up now, it hurt more than anything, but she listened. If she could do anything for her friend now, she would listen. "I know how hard it's been on you without him," Meagan continued, "even after these past few years. I know you haven't left, because your afraid if you do then nothing will be the same. You still feel him in that house, and that's why you can't leave. That's why you never took my advice, or never heeded me when I tried to talk to you about it. You didn't talk about it, because you didn't want to believe it had really happened. You didn't let me in, because if you didn't let anyone in . . ."
"He wouldn't really be gone," Charlotte finished. Meagan was glad to hear to her say it, finaly. And she was right, Charlotte was afraid. She was afraid of moving on, afraid she wouldn't be the same person. Samuel had made her into the person she was today, despite what her sister had accused him of. He'd rescued her from death, carried her through the loneliness without Natasha, and introduced her to her love of painting, to her love of the world. Who would she be without him?
Charlotte bent her head to the blankets on Meagan's bead. She wept, for both the memories of Samuel and the pain she'd put her friend through. She felt so confused, her mind vibrated with too many thoughts, too many pains. She felt if she spoke, nothing would come out but jibber-jabber and tear-filled rambles.
Meagan stroked Charlotte's hair, fingers gently parting the tangled mess of vibrant, red strands. It was all the comfort her weak body could manage. After a few minutes, Charlotte sucked in her blubbering and simply rested her head on the bed. Meagan's breathing slowed as she closed her eyes. When her hand ceased movement, resting on top of Charlotte's head, Charlotte looked up in concern. Meagan was still smiling.
"Despite everything that's happened," she said, "we had a little fun though, didn't we? Coming here to Germany and all. Minus the Asgardian going crazy," she looked at Charlotte again. "We had a good time."
Charlotte smiled through her sobs and nodded. "Yes. It was fun." Another tear fell from her cheek.
Meagan let out a louder, longer sigh. She turned her head on the white pillow, looking as if she would fall asleep. It was almost nap time for her again; Charlotte could see how tired she was. It's what she gets for talking so much, she thought. She brushed her fingers against Meagan's cheek and let the hold on her friend's hand loose. She set it on the bed next to her and rose to her feet again, wiping her warm cheeks free from any remaining tears. Before she turned, Meagan's lips parted.
"He was just like in the legends, you know?" she said, eyes still closed. Charlotte looked down at her, wondering what she meant. "The cruel Prince of Mischief and Lies. Loki's his name, but you already knew that. I remember dad telling me about him. I liked hearing his story, but when I was little it always made me sad."
"What do you mean?" Charlotte asked. She sat back down in the chair.
Meagan laughed a little, this time without pain. "Oh, so now you'll listen."
"Come on, tell me." Charlotte brushed her friend's shoulder. "I don't deserve to be told, but I'd like to hear it."
Meagan heard the sincerity in Charlotte's voice. She took a deep breath. She still hadn't opened her eyes, and she felt an abundant need for sleep, but she could manage a short version at least. "Loki was . . . is, the adopted brother of Thor, God of Thunder and Lightning, and adopted son of Odin, Father of All," she began.
"Adopted?" Charlotte leaned forward in her chair. Meagan opened her eyes and looked at Charlotte in irritation.
"Charlotte, you have a horrible habit. Stop interrupting me. Yes, Loki was adopted. It sound's cliche, but it is how it is." Meagan sighed. "The story started with a war. Odin led his people into a great battle against their enemy, the frost giants from the land of Jotunheim."
"I thought Loki was from Asgard." Charlotte interrupted again. Meagan stopped, holding her breath. Charlotte realized what she had done and held her tongue. She felt like a little child at that moment, hoping Meagan would continue.
"Jotunheim is part of Asgard." Meagan informed her. "It's the ninth world within the realm of Asgard. Can I continue?" Charlotte nodded and sat back in the chair. "Laufey, the king of the frost giants, was slain and the war won, so Odin roamed Jotunheim, gathering the spoils of their victory. That was when he found a baby, hidden in Laufey's fortress."
"A baby?"
"An Asgardian baby. It was said that Laufey had a son, but because of his meager size, he kept him locked away in shame. Odin remembered his father's dying words, then. He had wished Odin to adopt one son of any father that he killed, and so Odin adopted this child into his family. He named the infant, Loki."
Charlotte eagerly listened to Meagan's story. She was dazzled at the truth of Loki's heritage, the history of his childhood, the things he did through his teenage years. To know about his life, Charlotte felt more in control, like she had a weapon she could use against him, seeing how he had known almost everything about her . . . almost everything. Then again, she understood why the story made Meagan sad. In the legend, Loki felt like a disgrace compared to his brother. To be denied the throne because of his true parenting, to be looked upon as the lesser of two princes, it was cruel. Charlotte wondered if this tale was really true. "I could tell you of my understanding of betrayal." Those were Loki's words. Had he meant them toward Thor and his supposed father?
As Charlotte pondered on her thoughts, Meagan found herself slowly drifting to sleep. When she stopped talking altogether, Charlotte rose from the chair again. Meagan breathed peacefully, to Charlotte's relief, her chest rising and falling in a soothing rhythm. She wasn't asleep yet.
"But, seeing him at the ball, something caught me a little off-guard." Meagan said.
His clothes, Charlotte thought to herself. "What?"
Meagan's voice was distant, almost a whisper. "I always thought he'd be . . . shorter."
Charlotte laughed, remembering how insignificant she'd felt while the demi-god stood towering over her the first time they had met. "Yeah, He's pretty tall." she agreed. About as tall as Samuel was, Charlotte recalled, but she didn't say it out loud.
She looked down at Meagan, who appeared to had finally slipped into the world of dreams. Charlotte brushed the hair out of Meagan's face and lightly kissed her forehead. She needed her rest, and after a couple of days she'd be able to go home. But when Charlotte was able to go home herself, she didn't know.
She could take over the jet and try to fly back to Arizona, but she knew that would be less likely to happen, and if even if it did, what would she do from there? She didn't know exactly what events were waiting to unravel. All Charlotte knew was that something big was coming up, and she had two options to consider. She could either escape and pretend all was well with the world, or she could go back to New York and face the person she had been wishing to run into just days before, but now she dreaded the very idea.
When Loki had talked about revenge, something in Charlotte sparked. Natasha killed Samuel, for reasons she descovered were painfully flawed. She'd been looking after her young sister, but even though her actions only left Charlotte to parish in this withering state of loathing and hate for her and the rest of the world, Charlotte had forgiven her. Could she so easily take back that forgiveness, just because she could now do something about it?
Regardless of anything that would soon occur, she had to at least keep what home she had safe, away from the horror of this coming war. Charlotte reached behind her neck and unhooked the chain to her locket. After a moment of hesitation, she set the locket on the table beside Meagan's bed; this was the first time she had removed it in years. She knew Meagan wouldn't know what it meant. It would frighten her, but Charlotte couldn't bring it with her. She couldn't risk its loss.
Charlotte quietly stepped to the door. She stood up straight, forcing herself not to look back, but she couldn't help but hold back outside the hall, her hand still holding tightly onto the door handle. Charlotte pressed her lips together. She was sick of tears, but at least one escaped her eye as she whispered a last goodbye to her friend. She didn't know if she would be greeted with a hello in a couple of days, or is she'd ever see Meagan again. All she could do was hope and pray. To whom was she praying? To anyone, really, even Odin himself. As long as they listened, she didn't care.