Disclaimer: "Please tell me you're going to appeal to my humanity." –Loki, Avengers
A/N: I went and looked up quantum field generators in order to properly picture the first scene I hope my dedication is appreciated.
Also, I do not science. So I am sorry about pretty much all of the "science" in this entire fic.
Chapter 10: Og nordmenn sannsynligvis ikke er gangstere
Alternatively titled: In which Odin attempts to reconcile and fails miserably.
The next few days were basically awful. I didn't go to my physics lecture on Thursday. I barely made it to therapy (which you know, Tony). I had my Literature class, Shakespeare and the Soul, with Professor Stewart later in the afternoon, which I did make it to. Friday was fun, what with A New Perspective on American History and then Advanced Mathematical Reasoning later in the afternoon. Professor Banner asked me to stay for a moment after class to talk about my last test, but I must have looked as awful as I felt, because he took pity on me and told me to come into his office on Monday instead. So I avoided that, only to run into a scowling Clint Barton, who shoved a pile of paper at me which turned out to be the notes from the physics lecture from Thursday. This was, naturally, confusing, since Barton actually, literally hates me.
Uninterested in analyzing the no-doubt equally dull and horrifying depths of Barton's psyche, I mumbled a quick "thanks" and escaped as quickly as I could to the laboratory.
I was in the middle of setting up an electro-magnetic force field, using a half-dead battery, a paperclip, two rubber bands, and a piece of yarn I'd found stuck to the bottom of the cardboard box I'd found the battery in, when Jane Foster decided to engage me in conversation for only the third time in our acquaintance.
The thing you have to understand, Tony, is that Jane Foster is a good person. She's unendingly intelligent, unerringly witty, and unfailingly kind. Slightly absentminded, true, but ultimately, Jane Foster is one of the absolute best people I know. The only person I can think of who is kinder than she is would be Thor.
And maybe not even Thor, because, let's be honest, Thor occasionally breaks people's faces for a living.
Despite Jane Foster's inherent goodness, I liked her. I couldn't help it. You can't not like Jane. You, I suspect, would love her, Tony. She's very fond of Science, which you seem to enjoy a somewhat inordinate amount, considering that you're a psychologist, not a physicist.
Actually, Tony, that's rather odd, now that I think of it? How on earth did you become a psychologist when you seem to have so much more interest in all the other areas of science? It's –
Not the point of writing this. Right.
Anyway, Jane Foster decided to come talk to me while I was building a force field. She sat down on the stool across from me at my table and leaned forward on her elbows to whisper, "Quantum Field Generator." She wiggled her eyebrows up and down like that was supposed to mean something to me. I stared at her blankly.
"What?"
"Quantum Field Generator," she repeated. I could hear the capital letters. "We should build one."
I had no idea what she was talking about. "Jane Foster," I said, "I have no idea what you are talking about."
"You know!" she said. "A quantum field generator transfers molecular energy from one place to another. And we should build one."
"Why," I asked, unable to really do more than blink at her in surprise and confusion. Unlike me, I know, but remember that I was having a rough week.
"Because it's cool?" she huffed. "Do we need a better reason?"
I thought about that for a minute and then shrugged. "Okay." She was right. It was cool. And what better reason could we need?
Darcy came in when we had half of it built. The rest of the physics students in the lab had abandoned their projects and come over to help us.
"Jane!" Darcy called out cheerfully, holding aloft one of the two cups in her hands. "I got you coffee!"
"Thanks, Darcy," Jane Foster said cheerfully. Darcy then turned to look at me.
"Oh!" Darcy smirked, as if she had just noticed I was standing there. "What a coincidence, Loki. I just so happen to have an extra coffee here." She held it out to me tantalizingly. I resisted the urge to just reach out and grab it.
Hey, coffee is coffee. And free coffee is something else altogether.
I glared at her instead. "You don't know my coffee order," I said.
"Sweet and black," she retorted promptly, "like your soul." She winked at me cheerfully. Jane Foster laughed.
"Don't tease Loki, Darcy," she scolded lightly. I was too busy quietly freaking out over the fact that Darcy Lewis did, in fact, know my coffee order to realize that she had just called me sweet. She put the coffee down on the table next to me.
"Aw, don't look like that," Darcy said. "It was just a guess." She leaned over the table and changed the subject. "What are you two nerds working on?"
"A quantum field generator," I answered wearily. Unfortunately, I said it just as Jane Foster was enthusiastically chiming in and saying, "A quantum field generator! Isn't that awesome?" at the same time, so I doubt Darcy heard me.
"A quantum field generator, huh?" she grinned. "What does that do?"
"It transfers molecular –Darcy! You know what it does, I just told you earlier today that I wanted to build one if Loki was up for it –"
"Jane!" Darcy was glaring at her friend, eyes darting between me and Jane Foster.
"Oh!" Jane Foster said, clapping a hand over her mouth quickly. "Sorry! I forgot."
"Forgot what?" I asked absentmindedly, frowning at the chamber on the generator. It wasn't quite aligned correctly… I reached out and nudged at it.
"Um, nothing," Darcy said quickly, for some reason kicking Jane Foster under the table when she started to say something. "Did you fix it?" she asked.
"What?" I said, looking up and focusing properly for the first time. I usually tried to avoid too much actual conversation with Darcy, if only because she usually spends the entire time staring at me. Plus, I still wasn't sure how to act around her after she gave me a ride last week.
"The quantum whatever it is. You were fiddling with it. Did you fix it?"
"I, uh, yeah," I stuttered. I hadn't thought she was paying attention. "It should work now."
"Great, then –"
"Loki!"
My head shot up and I stared in horror. Thor was standing at the front of the room, waving at me and beaming.
"Oh, no," I muttered, shrinking down on my stool. It didn't help, of course. My brother came bounding across the room like the big overgrown golden retriever puppy he is.
"So this is where you go after classes!" he said, grinning widely. "And I can see why!" he winked at the two girls, who were standing by looking simultaneously charmed and bemused. "I am Thor," he announced, holding out his hand. "Loki's older brother."
"Really?" Jane Foster, traitor that she is, said interestedly. "Loki's mentioned you a couple of times, I think." She shook his hand and blushed when he bent over and kissed the back of hers.
"He has?" Thor couldn't have looked more pleased if I had suddenly decided to declare myself best friends with Sif and the Warriors Three. He beamed at me. "Why brother, I had no idea you cared!"
I rolled my eyes. "Just because I talk about you doesn't mean I care," I pointed out. "I could be telling them about how annoying you are."
His face fell for only a fraction of a second before I felt guilty. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, Jane Foster chimed in at that moment with, "Oh, but you only said that your brother was older than you, and that he always looks out for you." I glared at her and she stared back at me innocently. She knew what she was doing. Never be fooled by Jane Foster's innocent face. She is devious as anything.
"Did you?" Thor said, his grin returning in full force. I rolled my eyes again.
"Don't let it go to your head," I said.
"Oh," he replied, "I intend to. But, little brother, you never mentioned that the ladies you work with are so beautiful!" He turned back to Jane Foster with a bright, charming smile and she blushed again, furiously.
Oh.
OH.
I must have grimaced, because Darcy laughed and poked me in the shoulder. I jerked back and she held up her hands, laughing.
"Whoa," she said. "Easy there." She grinned at me. "Don't look like that. So what if Jane and your brother hit it off?"
So what indeed. So what if sweet, innocent Jane Foster hit it off with my mobster older brother?
"Thor? Did you need something?" I interrupted the two of them, pointedly raising an eyebrow at my brother.
"Oh, yeah," he said, not embarrassed at all. Giving Jane Foster a sheepish grin, turned to me and said, "I'm here to take you home."
"What? Thor I am perfectly capable of getting myself home. Dad doesn't need to send you to make sure I go straight home, do not pass go, do not collect –"
"Loki!" Thor half-shouted, looking like he wanted to laugh. Jane Foster was politely chuckling behind her hand. Darcy was just laughing. She snorted when she laughed. It was kind of cute.
"Loki, Dad didn't send me," Thor said. "I came on my own, because I know you hate taking the bus."
That shut me up for a minute, I'll admit. Meanwhile, both Darcy and Jane Foster were saying, "Awww, that's so sweet, Thor!" and I wanted to die.
"Alright, alright, let's go then," I said, quickly jumping off of my stool and cramming my things into my book bag.
"But your… thing, what was it?" Thor asked Jane Foster.
"A quantum field generator," she said. "It transfers –"
"Molecules, from one place to another," my brother finished, beaming at her. Jane Foster gaped at him. I'm sure I was doing the same.
"What?" he said, still grinning. "I have to Google physics things sometimes so that I will understand when Loki is talking."
And then they were all looking at me, but I was staring at Thor incredulously. I had no idea that Thor actually listened when I talked. None. I had always just assumed that when I started talking about science, Thor pretty much checked out of the conversation.
"That's…" I said. Luckily, he cut me off before I could do anything embarrassing, like smile at him sappily.
"So are you sure you want to leave your quantum field generator?"
"What? Oh, uh, no, it's finished," I stuttered out. "It'll need testing, but…"
He shrugged. "I'll wait." Smiling, he turned back to Jane Foster. "It will give me a chance to spend more time with your lovely lab partners."
Darcy and Jane Foster giggled. I scowled.
"Fine," I said. "You guys ready?" I asked the other astro-geeks.
"Ready!" Jane Foster said. We all snapped our goggles into place. Technically, we didn't need the goggles, but wearing them is pretty much a requirement for Proper Science. Thor and Darcy stood back as we crowed around the table and leaned over the quantum field generator. Jane Foster reached out and connected the cables that would energize the generator and it came to life with a hum. A glowing force field appeared in the chamber, particles of light manifesting before our eyes. I looked over my shoulder at Thor and Darcy, unable to resist flashing them both a satisfied smile. Thor looked genuinely pleased, but I could tell he was looking at Jane Foster, hair pulled into a high ponytail and goggles not even close to hiding the excitement in her eyes. I looked to Darcy.
Who was, as usual, staring right at me, with a strangely soft look on her face. I met her eyes boldly, for once, and instead of smirking at me, she just smiled widely, raising her hands up and clapping softly. Confused, I turned around again to stare at the quantum field generator. Physics was good. Physics was normal. Physics didn't stare at me and smile and look gorgeous in thick framed glasses and snort when she laughed…
Shaking my head sharply, I straightened up as Jane Foster disconnected the cables. The chamber went dark and Thor bounded over to us happily.
"That was magnificent!" he announced. "I had no idea it would be so beautiful!" Jane Foster was blushing again as Thor claimed her hand and earnestly told her how lovely her project was.
Darcy elbowed me in the ribs and raised her eyebrows at me. "Would it kill you to smile?" she stage-whispered.
"Yes," I replied, deadpan. She started, staring at me with her mouth open for a minute. I stared right back.
"Why, Loki d'Asgard," she said finally, "did you just make a joke?"
"I never joke about killing things," I told her. For some reason, that only made her smile more, which was definitely not my intention.
"Oh no, I'm onto you now," she said. "You have a sense of humor and now I have proof!" Darcy grinned at me like she'd won some kind of prize and I squinted at her, trying to understand this girl.
I considered again the possibility that she had a crush on me. And then I discarded that possibility for the second time. This was not how people act when they have crushes. She wasn't stuttering or blushing or losing her ability to speak properly or anything like that, which was my basic understanding of how crushes work, from personal experience. Clearly, she had some other reason for her interest in me.
I stopped squinting and rounded on Thor. "Okay, so we need to go," I said, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the door.
"Wha –okay?" he said, sounding bemused. "Wait, hold on, Loki!" He pulled away from me and said to Jane Foster, "It was very nice to meet you. I hope I'll see you again sometime. Bye, Darcy!" he waved, and then allowed me to pull him out of the lab.
"What was that?" I demanded.
"What was what?" he asked, looking far too innocent.
"You know what," I hissed. "'Bye, Darcy'? Since when do you know Darcy?"
Thor gave me a careful look. "I just met Darcy, little brother," he said slowly. "You were right there, remember?"
I narrowed my eyes at him. "You sounded very friendly for having just met her," I accused.
"Jealous, little brother?" he teased. I threw up my hands.
"No! I'm just trying to figure out if you're conspiring with her against me!"
Thor burst out laughing.
We stood there, outside of the astro-physics laboratory, for nearly five minutes while Thor laughed and laughed and laughed.
He straightened up finally, after slapping his knee in hilarity, practically wiping his eyes free of tears of laughter. I was tapping my foot, arms crossed over my chest, aware that I was adopting Sif's favorite pose and doing it purposely.
"Are you finished?" I asked politely, at the same time as scornfully as I could.
"Yes," Thor said, trying to keep a straight face.
"Good," I said, turning on my heel and stalking down the sidewalk. "Then let's go."
"Aw, Loki!" he called out behind me, running to catch up. "I didn't mean to laugh at you, honest."
"And yet," I said pleasantly, trying to walk faster than him. It was useless; he was taller than me, with longer legs and no compunctions about running to keep up with me. I refused to jog to outpace him, so I resigned myself to walking side by side.
"I was only… I mean, seriously, Loki, did you hear yourself?"
"I said it, didn't I?" I said, looking both ways before crossing the street to where Thor had –illegally– parked his car.
"Loki," Thor said seriously, "I would never conspire against you."
"Well, that," I said, reaching his car and standing by the passenger side door, pointedly not looking at Thor, "is just blatantly untrue."
"Well," he said, "maybe a little. I would, for example, happily conspire against you in order to come pick you up from school. And to bring you home for Sunday dinner. And to surprise you for your birthday –I know," he said, holding up his hand before I could say anything, "you hate surprises, even for your birthday. But, Loki, I would never do anything to hurt you. You know that. Don't you?"
I thought about it for a moment, ignoring the hurt look on Thor's face. "Yes," I said finally. "I believe that you would never do anything to try to hurt me. But I'm not sure that you always know what is going to hurt me."
His lips tightened, obviously not liking this answer. Too bad, it was all I had.
"Let me in the car," I said, tugging on the handle. It was locked, of course. Mobsters know better than anyone how easy it is to steal a car. No reason to make it easier by leaving it unlocked, even in a "safe" place.
Still brooding, Thor fished out his keys and unlocked the doors. I slid into the front seat and sat facing forward, not looking at him, even after he climbed in and started the engine. He drove us to my building in silence, and when I got out and went right up to my apartment, he didn't follow.
I told myself I wanted it that way, and went to struggle through my math homework.
000
The Ravens appeared again on Saturday, and they stayed with me until Sunday evening, at which point they accompanied me, from a distance, to Yggdrasil for the promised Sunday dinner.
My mother hugged me and kissed both of my cheeks and exclaimed over how thin I was (which, living away from home, I must inevitably be, never mind that I am also tall and that I am by no means underweight) as though nothing had happened the last time I was here. I endured this and even managed a smile for her, even though I was hyper-aware of Odin standing only a few feet away, glowering at me.
I met his eyes with more bravado than I actually was feeling and was gratified to see his gaze soften a little bit. Hmm. I must have looked more pathetic than I'd thought. I tried a scowl, but I think I still looked thoughtful, because my father just looked slightly amused.
"Loki," he rumbled.
"Dad," I muttered, ducking past him into the kitchen, where Thor was already seated at the table. He grinned at me when he looked up.
"Brother!" he exclaimed, as happy as if we hadn't seen each other for a month. "We are having roast," he informed me.
Honestly, I don't understand my family sometimes. The way they pretend at being normal and well-adjusted, when really half of them are mobsters and we're all a little dysfunctional, baffles me. I mean, why pretend? We all know what the secret in the room is, there's no need to just act like we're a normal family. Any second now, one of the Uncles was going to come in and apologize for interrupting, and then ask Dad a question about some mob business, and Mom was going to pretend that she wasn't hearing it and Thor was going to just keep eating like Dad wasn't discussing Business at the dinner table. And Business could include anything from collecting an overdue loan (with interest –probably in the form of some sort of bodily harm) to smuggling.
Sure enough, immediately after we'd sat down, Uncle Heimdall came in and apologized to my mother.
"Sorry, Frigga, but I've got a question for the Boss," he said. Mom waved her hand at him like a queen granting her subject an audience.
(Come to think of it, that's exactly what she was.)
"Boss," Heimdall said, "I need to know what you want me to do with the goombas we caught near the hot zone." For some reason, his eyes darted over to me when he said this.
Dad thought about it for a moment. "Have they said anything?" he asked.
"Nothing," Heimdall shook his head. "Nothing we didn't already know at least. They said that some guy hired them to break into the apartment–" he glanced at me and Thor, broke off, and then rolled his eyes, "you know. And then it was the usual: they don't know who it was, it was all over payphone, they never saw him, they got half the money on site, and the other half was gonna be waiting for them when the job was done." He looked disgruntled.
"Hmm," Odin said, tapping his fingers on the table. "Have you tried persuading them to think harder?"
"Oh my god, Dad, it's torture, not persuasion. He means have you tried torturing them yet."
They all looked at me.
Oh. I'd said that out loud.
What can I say, Tony? Sometimes even I get tired of the euphemisms.
"Do you have something to contribute here, Loki," my father said, in a tone of voice that implied it really wasn't a question.
I shook my head, hunching my shoulders and staring down at my plate. Odin and Heimdall went back to their conversation, but not before my father aimed a heated, quelling glare at the top of my head, so hard I could feel it.
"Are you sure they don't know anything?" he asked. Uncle Heimdall shrugged.
"Well, like you said, I haven't tried torture yet." I looked up, surprised at the jab. Heimdall was almost never on my side. For him to take a dig like that, even subtly, meant that he disapproved about something my father was doing with this job.
Dad didn't miss it either, but instead of getting angry, he just snorted. "But?" he prodded.
"But," Heimdall finished, "I really don't think they know anything. They seemed very… sincere," he offered with a sharp smile. I was inclined to believe him. Heimdall was very good at being intimidating. He'd turned that smile on me before, when I had been out all night or off doing something I shouldn't have been (which, in my family, was a short list, but one I exploited religiously). I would tell him what he wanted to know. Usually.
Most of the time.
Okay, so I tried to lie to him more often than not, and more often than not, I got away with it too. I'm just that good. But there were a few times when even my silver tongue couldn't hold up under Uncle Heimdall's watchful eyes and casually threatening grin.
"Alright then," my father said, nodding decisively. "Then kill them and send them to His Majesty in pieces." And with that, he went back to his potatoes, ignoring the way the rest of us at the table were now staring at him.
"It shall be done," Heimdall assured him, not sounding at all disapproving about this particular development, and shooting me another strangely fierce look before nodding to my mom and leaving the kitchen.
"What the –"
"Eat your dinner, Thor," my father said without looking up from his plate. Mom said nothing, her face completely serene as she cut her roast into bite-sized pieces and took a sip of her wine.
"Um," I said.
"You, too, Loki," Odin said, pointing his fork at me with an almost playful smile. "Finish your food."
"You just ordered Uncle Heimdall to kill someone," I said, as if he hadn't been there. The smile he gave me was extremely pointed.
"Yes," he said pleasantly. "I thought you would appreciate the plain speaking for once."
"Odin," my mother said sharply.
"I'm only trying to accommodate Loki's preferences," my father said.
"If you are going to be deliberately antagonistic towards your son," she said, "then you can remove yourself from the table." She set down her silverware and turned in her seat to stare directly at Odin. "Is that clear?"
Beside me, Thor was holding his breath. I was looking back and forth between my parents. My eyes were so wide, I probably looked like Bambi.
"Shall I apologize then?" my father asked finally. Oddly, he actually sounded slightly sorry.
"That won't be necessary," Mom said calmly. "Just settle down and be civil." She returned to her food as though she hadn't just stared down Odin d'Asgard and took a bite of potatoes. "Eat, boys," she said to me and Thor. "It'll get cold."
We glanced at each other and then picked up our forks and ate.
That was Sunday dinner at Yggdrasil. Fun, right?
Not.
And then my week got worse.
Yes, Tony, worse than that.
It started with Family following me around. Yes, that's Family, with a capital F and all. Dad wasn't being subtle at all. Uncle Tyr tried to reason with me.
"Loki," he said, "it's for your safety. Your father is just trying to make sure you're safe."
"Go away," I told him.
He didn't, but I steeled myself and hailed a taxi, and so managed to lose him in rush hour traffic.
And then there was Uncle Baldur. When he appeared outside of my physics class on Tuesday morning, I actually snarled at him.
"Don't be like that," he told me.
"Why," I asked the air, "does everyone always say that to me?"
"Maybe because you're always so uptight," he said back, easily, hands in his pockets and falling in step beside me like he wasn't my bodyguard for the day.
"I am not uptight," I gritted out, sounding, admittedly, extremely uptight.
"Sure," Baldur shrugged. "Whatever you say. I'm not leaving, either way. And don't think you're gonna lose me in a crowd the way you did Tyr yesterday." He gave me a stern look. I ignored him as I went on to Professor Stewart's class.
I was pretty much over Shakespeare at this point, but I guess that was my own fault for signing up for a class called Shakespeare and the Soul.
Tony, stop laughing.
I canceled my magic show at the Center, mostly because I wasn't sure how to explain the presence of Uncle Baldur. Truthfully, I was under no illusions that the kids wouldn't love him. Baldur was funny like that. Everybody loves him. It's freaking weird, because I've literally seen him break someone's hand, and yet, I kind of like him, too. Ororo was very understanding of my "family troubles," and requested that I pass on her best wishes to my father and the rest of the d'Asgards.
Ignoring the slightly strange wording of her request, I told her I would give them the message, and then I neatly hung up and told Baldur to let the rest of the Family know where they could all take themselves.
Uncle Bragi thought he'd be clever and bring Aunt Idunn along with him, which was not only sneaky and unsportsmanlike, but completely unfair.
In spite of myself, I approved. Figured that Uncle Bragi would be the only one of them to act like a proper mobster.
That is, if you believe that proper mobsters have hippie, herbalist, sweet-tempered flower-children for wives. Aunt Idunn actually managed to coax me out to lunch with them that Wednesday.
It's really hard to say no to Aunt Idunn.
The Ravens were there to escort me to therapy on Thursday, and then on Friday they followed me around constantly. I spent Saturday in my apartment, desperate for some personal space and time alone, only to be invaded at around noon by my brother, Sif, and the Warriors Three.
"Ugh," I groaned, falling backwards over the arm of my couch, legs kicking up in the air, staring at the ceiling with my eyes as dead as I could make them. "Why. Why can't I ever get away from you people?"
"Now, Loki," Fandral said cheerfully, sitting down next to my head, "is that anyway to greet your nearest and dearest friends?"
"You," I began, only to be cut off by Volstagg, who crouched down next to me.
"Loki," he said earnestly, "we miss you."
"Maybe," I offered, "you just miss my apartment."
"That too," Sif agreed, dropping down into the only armchair, "but also we miss your stunning personality."
"Well that can't be true," I said dryly.
"See?" she laughed. "It's this sort of wit that keeps us coming back. Thor," she said to my brother, who was hovering anxiously in the doorway, "get me some soda."
"I don't have soda," I said to the ceiling.
"You do now," Hogun replied, sitting down cross-legged on the floor next to Fandral's knees with one of the said sodas in hand. "We got the kind you like," he offered.
I paused.
"Ginger ale?"
"I don't know how you can stand to drink it," Thor said, coming back into the room from the kitchen and handing me a can, "but here it is." He handed Sif a root beer and settled back next to Hogun with an actual beer.
"Fine," I said, sitting up, "but don't think that this means I like you all or anything."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Fandral replied, clinking his soda can into mine solemnly. Volstagg came up with the TV remote from somewhere and turned on the set. Expertly, he queued up Netflix and we watched Merlin for the rest of the day.
(Okay, so Saturday didn't totally suck.)
Sunday dinner came around again, and I sat through the frostiest, most awkward dinner ever. My father and I didn't speak to each other at all, and Mom and Thor carried the conversation with forced cheerfulness. To make matters worse, various Family members kept wandering in and out, apparently for no other reason than to make sure we hadn't killed each other, because as soon as they stuck their heads in the door, they were gone again. Odin finished his food and pushed his chair away from the table, stomping off to his office without saying a word. I let out a sigh of relief and instantly felt guilty when my mom gave me a disappointed frown.
After that, Monday was actually a relief. Even if it did come with Ravens and Advanced Mathematical Reasoning.
"Loki," Professor Banner said, folding his hands on his desk, "I'm not sure what the problem is."
I shrugged. The problem, I thought spitefully, is that I'm here, listening to you talk at me after hours, instead of going home and doing my homework.
"I just want to help," he said.
"Can you drop my last quiz grade?" I asked hopefully. Startled, he actually chuckled.
"Actually," Professor Banner said, "yes, I can. It's your lowest, so it's definitely getting dropped. But, Loki," he said, taking off his glasses and giving me a very earnest look. "You really do need to get your grade up. Finals are coming up in just a couple of weeks. Do you think tutoring might help?"
I bit my lip, mostly to hold back my opinions of his stupid class and stupid tutoring. Yes, please remind me about finals. That's so what I need right now. "I think I've just been a bit stressed," I said. "I mean, I don't usually do this badly, do I?" I gestured towards the glaring red F gracing my quiz.
"No," Professor Banner allowed, "that you don't." He stared at me frankly, meeting my eyes with no hesitation. "Alright," he said. "I'll believe the stress story. But –" he pointed at me with the earpiece of his glasses, "if that's so, then you seriously need to relax, kiddo. Going from a B average to completely failing a quiz isn't something that just happens over night. I'd say 'a bit stressed' is probably understating it." He looked very concerned. "Do you want to talk about it?"
I almost laughed. "Um. No. Thank you. Uh. Actually, I have a therapist." I said it awkwardly, trying not to blush. It was stupid, because it's not something I'm usually embarrassed about, but for some reason, saying it to my college professor was daunting.
"Hey," Professor Banner grinned, spreading his hands, "good for you. Trust me when I say that I know stress, and if you've got someone to help you work through it, then absolutely good for you."
"Uh, yeah."
That sounded really stilted, but let's be honest here, Tony: you weren't actually all that much help back then. I mean sure, I'd rant and rave to you for an hour, talking about how awful my life was becoming, but you never really said much beyond, "Uh-huh, okay. Now, how does that make you feel?" Like, seriously. Did you get your diploma out of a cereal box?
Okay, that was mean.
Okay, but I don't actually care.
Okay, so I care a little bit.
Snapdragons.
Sorry, Tony, I guess, for implying that you're a crappy therapist. You've actually really improved a lot since we started.
I mean, I'm not sure that I've improved, but you definitely have, so that's something.
Anyway.
The week from hell was over, mostly, and a new one began. Thankfully, my father had apparently decided to tone it down somewhat, because my only stalkers were the Ravens, who were fairly easy to ignore if you were used to them. Which I was.
But then the one day (it was that Thursday, actually) that Hugin and Munin weren't following me, I was all alone, on a bus (ugh). And I could feel the eyes.
I glanced across the aisle to the passenger across from me, only to find a mother with two kids who looked like she was about ready to be done with this day. Probably not her. I glanced up and backwards and found a man on his phone, two teenage girls who were arguing over something, and another man who was blatantly ignoring the No Smoking sign. Not any of them either.
But someone was staring at me. Malevolently. I shuddered, full-body. I could feel myself begin to breathe faster, adrenaline rushing through me.
Time to get off this bus. I reached up and pulled the rope and the bus stuttered to a stop. Quickly, I grabbed my things and leaped off onto the curb, tossing a handful of change at the driver. No one got off with me. I stood on the sidewalk for a minute, breathing heavily and trying not to have a panic attack.
"Is the point of this," I asked myself out loud, "to drive me insane? Because if so, it's working." I probably sounded hysterical. I didn't care. I was so done with this stalking crap.
I'd gotten off in the middle of the city. I'd actually barely made it two blocks from the campus. My apartment was fifteen minutes away, walking. I could make it easily. Had done it, many times before. Even while being followed by invisible beings who stared at me in a vaguely threatening manner.
While I was unarmed.
And alone.
Gritting my teeth for the inevitable discomfort, I put my fingers between my teeth and whistled for a taxi.
A/N: This chapter was written mostly while listening to "Tell Me I'm a Wreck" by Every Avenue, and "Kiss Me in the Morning" by Stereo Skyline. Yes. Just those two. On repeat.
Still playing Spot the Marvel Cameo, though I suppose this one is stretching a wee bit…
Additional, No-Longer-A-Spoiler Disclaimer: I do not own Bambi. Or Netflix. Or Merlin.
Next Chapter: Loki doesn't like Darcy, and other lies he tells the world.