"You can have the shack for the night," Harley spoke softly as he opened the door of the shack for the two of us. He stepped aside to let us in and held the door until we were safely inside. Convincing Tony that it was a better idea to come back to the shack for the night and pick up the next day was a difficult feat, but I could feel his fatigue. We both knew he needed rest, but I couldn't bring myself to confess that I was also feeling much more weary than I was before. It was as if I was growing weaker and weaker with every vision I experienced. The pain from the wound on my abdomen was becoming like background noise the majority of the time; it was always there, but I didn't pay too much mind to it. There were moments, however, that the pain took over completely.
Once Tony and I settled ourselves onto the couch, Harley continued, "my mom should be home sometime soon, so try not to turn the lights on out here. It's for the best she doesn't know you're here. Our space heater is broken, so it's gonna get cold out here tonight. I'd give you two my bedroom, but that's not much better, and you wouldn't be hidden from my mom for long. I can go look for some blankets for you, though," he stated, a hopeful look in his eyes. I knew that look. He didn't want to disappoint us, and he was hoping to make up for "failing us" by keeping us out in the shack instead of bringing us into the home. I understood his predicament, and Tony's silence reassured me that he understood the situation as well.
I offered Harley a warm smile, "thank you," I murmured, glancing over at a sullen Tony, "and you can rest assured that I'll keep Tony in check tonight. No parties, I promise," I remarked in an attempt to lighten the mood before Harley laughed and ran off to find us some blankets to use throughout the night.
As soon as we were left alone, Tony's deep brown eyes caught mine, "what happened earlier?" he asked, and I furrowed my eyebrows, not understanding what he was asking. Sensing my confusion, he clarified his previous question, "you freaked out and went outside. When you came back in here-before we went out into the town-it was like you saw a ghost. Then, when we were in the town, the same thing happened. Harley was starting to freak me out, and you just wandered away. You're just acting...strange," he recalled, his eyes flitting to the dark corners of the room as he spoke. The quirk showed up whenever he was embarrassed or reverted back to his most natural state: his shy and reserved self. He maintained eye contact when the moment was intense or when he was confident, but when he was vulnerable or felt inferior, he would only meet my eyes for a fleeting moment.
I cleared my throat, thinking of a way to tell him the truth without telling him everything. I couldn't explain to him the extent of my conflict because he was too far out of the loop, and telling him would only taint his perception of me. I couldn't tell him about the visions of my past or the hallucinations I was having that seemed so real but couldn't be based in reality. If these visions were real, it would mean that I was the product of Death, that I was her offspring, and that was impossible. I cherished and fought for life in all its forms, so if I told Tony that I suspected the woman who birthed me was Death herself, it could cause a rift to form between us. It was bad enough when Thor and I came into the fold during the battle of New York. The only contact the majority of them had with Asgardians at that point was predominantly negative thanks to Loki, so we were less than welcome. Luckily, Steve-a man I thought I'd never see again-vouched for me. We were wildcards, though-Thor and I. What would happen if I told Tony about my past? What would that do to the trust that we built with each other? I couldn't throw that away.
"What happened, Eva?" Tony asked, breaking my train of thought.
I locked eyes with him and searched for even the slightest hint of doubt, but I knew I would find none. When Tony put his faith in someone, he went all in. He trusted me to tell him the truth, but I couldn't, so I gave him a version of the truth, "I just...I thought I saw something in the woods," I replied, trying to be as vague as possible as to not lie to him.
He didn't buy my statement, sensing that I was withholding something, "what's really going on? Why did you really come here?" he asked, still puzzled about my intentions coming to Earth. Asgardians were not an "open book" people. We were more careful and closed off. Asgardians kept to themselves, so trust didn't come easily, especially with those outside of their species. Humans were much more compassionate, and, in comparison, Asgardians seemed much more callous. I didn't know how to tell him that he meant so much to me that I would leave my home behind to protect him, and I didn't want to make him feel inadequate by insinuating that he couldn't handle himself. If I told him that I couldn't fulfill my destiny on Asgard, I would have to explain to him why, and that wasn't a conversation I was able to have with an "outsider."
Before I could even ponder my answer to his question, Harley saved me when he walked in the door, holding a blanket with a frown etched onto his lips, "this is the only extra blanket we have. I looked through the whole house, but...this is all I could find," he said, a hint of guilt clear in his voice as if he were somehow at fault for there not being extra blankets. I opened my mouth to comfort him, but he continued before I had the chance, "if you need an extra one, you can have mine," he trembled, the chill from having just been outside finally catching up to him. When he closed the space between the two of us, the moon shone onto his face just enough to light up his tear stained cheeks. He looked so distraught that he couldn't find us another blanket, almost like he was failing us somehow.
I reached out for the blanket slowly, sensing his distress. In that moment, he reminded me of a frightened animal, almost as if he had been hurt before. He placed the blanket in my hand, and I pulled him toward me with a delicate grasp on his small hand. Once he stood directly in front of me, I saw him as I had seen her. Every time I looked at her, it was like I was seeing her for the first time, and that same phenomenon happened with Harley. I rested the blanket in my lap and held his small hands in mine, my thumbs running over his knuckles. My eyes searched his as I felt our souls intertwine. The moment was so intense that it made me want to cry. The pain of having felt it before and losing it only made my emotions that much more intense. There was no explanation for it, only that my soul must've known Harley's from the moment the universe was created. It felt like we were long lost friends, like he was a piece of the puzzle of my life. As I searched his eyes, I saw that he felt the same inexplicable connection to me, too, and I knew I had to foster that in any way I knew how, "we'll be fine with this one, Harley. Thank you for the kind gesture. You are a most gracious host," I said in a soft voice filled with gratitude. His eyes flickered away from mine, and I watched as his bottom lip began to quiver. I gave his hands a gentle squeeze, his emotions pouring through them and into mine, "what's wrong?" I asked, tilting my head.
He sniffled and pulled one of his hands away to wipe a stray tear from his cheek. His tear-filled eyes found mine once more, "I just...I want you to be happy. I want you to be happy it was this house you came to and not another one," he trembled, fighting to hold the tears in, but I hoped he didn't do it out of shame. I would've never passed judgement on someone for showing their pain, especially not a child. He continued, his voice cracking, "I don't-I don't want you to be disappointed in me," he whimpered right before the tears began streaming freely down his cheeks.
"Oh, come here," I pleaded, opening my arms as he held up his hands to keep me from seeing the tears. He was hesitant about accepting my embrace, but I could feel that it was because he didn't want to make room in his heart for someone who could hurt him. I felt his pain like I felt hers-as if it were my own, as if I were feeling it for the both of us. Once he leaned in, I wasted no time in wrapping my arms around him and holding him the way he deserved to be held, the way every child deserved to be held. He nestled into my body, and I rubbed his back, holding him close to me, "you have no need to be ashamed, little one," I murmured in a soft, gentle voice as I felt Tony's eyes on us. The tears falling from Harley's eyes began to dampen my shoulder where he rested his head. I held him for quite some time, desperately pulling as much of his pain into my own heart as I could. I would happily endure it for him. After enough time had passed in the silence, I spoke, "I am so happy to be here with you, and I'm so happy you were willing to let us stay with you. You took a chance on the two of us, and I will be forever grateful for that."
"Look at me," I urged him, pulling away just enough to tilt his head up and find his beautiful, teary blue eyes, "I am so happy I stumbled across this house because I got the chance to meet you and learn about you. You have a wonderful and magical mind, Harley, and I hope you can understand that my joy in being here doesn't come down to how many spare blankets there are in your home. It doesn't come down to the state of your house or how clean this shack is. It doesn't come down to how well I'm going to sleep tonight, and it certainly won't come down to how comfortable the cot is going to be. My joy is going to come from spending time with you and Tony. It's going to come from protecting people and doing the right thing. Do you understand that?" I asked, wiping away the tears from his cheeks. Tony still sat silently beside me, but I knew it was because he didn't want to ruin the moment I was having with Harley. Normally, Tony would try to lighten the mood with a hint of sarcasm or a joke, but he knew that it wasn't the appropriate setting for him to do that with Harley, and I was thankful for his restraint.
Even when Harley nodded his head in understanding, I could still feel his heavy heart. As we sat in silence, I waited for his mind to clear up, waiting for his insecurity to diminish; however, it wasn't long before I realized that it wasn't going anywhere. My heart broke as I thought of who did the damage to this young child's heart. I pulled him close once more, and the moment I wrapped my arms around him, I felt him begin to relax. He nestled his head against my shoulder, and I brushed his hair back the same way my father always did to me, "close your eyes for a moment," I urged him, still wanting to clear his mind. The only way to do that was to get him to look inward, to face the demons in his own mind in order for the two of us to fight them together, "now, picture the most peaceful, beautiful scene. What does it look like?" I asked, unable to leave him without calming the unrelenting pain in his heart.
I felt him tense in my arms, and I knew that he was struggling to build a place of tranquility in his mind that was too often filled with noise, "it's you, me, and Kaia," he answered, his body finally relaxing as his mind trailed away. My heart nearly leapt from my chest. Why me? Before I could have time to ponder it, he continued, painting me a picture unlike any other, almost like he had done this before...but not for himself-for someone else, "we're in a forest far away from here. It's summer, and the air is warm. It smells like the trees and overgrown grass. The sun is shining through the leaves, and Kaia's hair looks like melted gold. There's a small creek, and when the wind isn't rustling the leaves, you can hear the water on the rocks. There's nothing but woods as far as I can see. It's just the three of us," he said, his voice level where it had once been trembling. He was calm.
I closed my eyes and pictured the place he had described for me, and I created a world in my mind that would be the place for him to experience his dream in. I had so many questions that arose during his explanation of his peaceful scene, but it wasn't my place to ask them. I made sure to create a world as beautiful as it could possibly be, a forest as close to his imagination as I could make it. Once it was done, I rested my hand against his head, and implanted the imaginary place into his mind, making sure that he would find peace while he slept. I brushed his hair back once more, feeling closer to whole than I had for quite some time, "you will sleep well tonight, and I will see you in the morning. Now, it's time for you to go inside and rest, little one," I murmured, basking in the warmth that his presence brought to me.
When he finally pulled away, his blue eyes found mine once more, "you'll still be here?" he asked, a hint of uncertainty lingering in his eyes. I knew he was afraid that I would disappear into thin air or run away like his father, but I could never bring myself to abandon anyone else. Not like...her.
I nodded my head as I grasped his hands firmly, "I'm not going anywhere...I promise," I insisted, my eyes flickering between his. As silence fell between us once more, I began to feel the trust and faith he was putting in me. It was as if Harley surrendered every ounce of trust over to me, but I couldn't understand why he would do that. As he searched me for any sign of dishonesty, he realized that he would find none. As soon as he came to that conclusion, he threw his arms around me and held me tightly, as if I would fade away if he let go. During the time we held each other, I felt my soul bleeding into his, a connection that mirrored the one I had with her from the very moment I met her. I wondered if my soul had been pulling me here for more than just Tony, if I was meant to meet Harley, if I was meant to be destroyed once more.
After he pulled away from the hug, he walked out of the shack without another word, taking the warmth with him; however, there was a coal that was left burning, one that would keep me warm throughout the night. For the first time in so long, I felt like I was doing something right, like I was making some kind of difference. Tony cleared his throat, "you're still good at that stuff. There's a reason why the people here chose the nickname they did," he snickered as his body trembled from the cold.
"We should probably head to bed. It's going to be a long day tomorrow, and it looks like it'll be a long night," I murmured, steering the conversation in a completely different direction. Sensing that I didn't want to talk about the topic he brought up, he nodded his head in agreement. I continued, "we should sleep in the cot together. I'd rather you not freeze to death."
"You and me, both," he chuckled, standing up from the couch and holding out his hand for me. I took it and rose to meet him before he led us over to the cot in the corner of the room. He gestured for me to sit next to him. I lowered myself down onto the cot next to him before pulling off the cloak he had given back to me when Harley offered us warmer attire. I knew how cold it was going to get throughout the night, and keeping him safe was my top priority in that moment. If he froze to death in the night, all of this would've been for nothing, and I would lose yet another person I cared about. He knew not to argue that I should keep it for myself because I was far more stubborn than him, and he would sooner move mountains than convince me that I shouldn't protect him. He still had the faintest sadness in his eyes, almost as if he was undeserving or somehow unworthy of a kind gesture, "thank you," he murmured as he draped the cloak over his shoulders and nestled into its warmth.
As soon as he moved to lay down in the bed, I followed his lead. We situated ourselves right next to each other, staring up at the ceiling together. He draped the blanket over the two of us, nestling beneath the warmth of that as well as the cloak. The blanket didn't do much to keep out the cold, but there would never come a time when I would admit that to Harley. He was already distressed enough as it was. As we stared at the neglected ceiling above us, silence fell. I wondered for a moment what I would dream of that night-if I would dream of Loki's face, if I would dream of her, if I would have another vision of Death, or if I would finally have a vision of my father-not Aaldir, but...whatever my father was called. A piece of me just wanted to dream of nothingness to quell the misery that came with the dreams and visions. I didn't want to dream of Loki or her or Death or my father. I didn't want to dream of Asgard or Midgard. I didn't want to dream of the past, the present, or the future. I just wanted nothing, but at the same time, I wanted to visit Hjalmar in my dreams. I wanted to know if I was doing it right, if I was making the right decisions. Of all the people who walked in and out of my life, Hjalmar stayed by my side, fighting with me, fighting for me...dying for me.
Just as the sorrow over his death began to take over once more, Tony's voice silenced it, "listen, I know you're not big on talking about your problems, but you helped save the world back in New York. I just want you to know that if there's anything I can do-listen, talk, distract you-I'm here. I know that I can't offer much to an Asgardian, but all I can offer, I owe to you," he explained, and I turned my head to argue that he didn't owe me anything. He saw the fire in my eyes, the cinders that would never be extinguished. Before I could argue against his reasoning, he continued, "you saved my life in New York, so if you need someone to talk to, I'm all ears...along with a few spare parts, but you know what I mean," he added, a grin spreading across his lips as he tried to lighten the mood. His dark, impossibly deep brown eyes, I noticed, sparkled under the light that shone in through the window.
It shocked me that he would even believe that he owed me anything, especially after all he had given me. I knew the life we led before we first "formally" met each other. I had kept an eye on him since the dawn of his existence, since the moment the sun rose on the day of his birth-a monumental occasion that I felt in my very soul. I knew the lifestyle he led before, engaging in drinks, parties, and social events. I knew that he loved the spotlight, and what I asked of him tore that all away, but he did it for me...for her. He owed me nothing, but I owed him all that I ever had and all that I ever would have. I shook my head in protest to his previous claim, "you owe me absolutely nothing, Tony. I owe you my life for what you did for me after the battle of New York. After you nearly sacrificed yourself to save a world that never fought for you, you took upon a responsibility that I will never be able you repay you for. You have done more than enough for me, so protecting you-saving you-is the very least I can do. I will not burden you with trivial matters after all you've already done," I explained, searching his eyes, trying to make him understand how limitless my gratitude was for him.
Something clicked in his mind that arguing his case wouldn't be beneficial, and that it would be counterproductive because I would fail to see how he was in my debt. It was very much the other way around, which he also failed to understand. Instead, he changed the subject, adjusting on the small cot to bring himself even closer to me, "you should visit sometime. You can see just how far she's-"
I cut him off, "don't," I warned him, my eyes widening as the wave of emotions crashed against the wall I built to keep them from spilling over and overflowing. If I allowed myself to feel that particular loss, I would succumb to it, and that was dangerous. My grief would control my actions. I used my grief and sorrow to fuel my passion, which made me a worthy opponent in battle, but when I allowed my grief, sorrow, anger, or fear take control, it was dangerous for myself and the people I meant to protect in the first place. I had placed the "loss" of her into a section of my mind that I never visited. If I didn't, I wouldn't have been alive to be in that very moment with Tony.
He furrowed his eyebrows, "what?" he asked, clearly confused as to why I wouldn't want to hear about her after all that had transpired. It was the only time Tony saw through to my raw emotions, when I left her. It was clear that he was expecting me to be interested. I wasn't.
"Don't talk about her. I don't want to know," I warned him, "the only thing I want to know is if she's safe. Aside from that, it's no longer my concern," I murmured, reinforcing the stone walls keeping back the dark emotions. The farther she could be from me, the safer she would become. While I wanted nothing more than to know what she was doing during every waking moment, I knew that it would only make it harder to move on and be away from her.
He furrowed his eyebrows, his face twisting with disbelief, "that's a bit harsh...even for an Asgardian, and especially for you," he exclaimed, the frustration clear in his voice. He would never understand the feeling of choosing. It was either my happiness or her safety, and I chose what I believed would be best for her. I needed to live with it, and that was something Tony couldn't possibly understand. I couldn't fault him for it, but I wished he could understand that it wasn't in an attempt to be hard-hearted. I never knew a love so pure than the moment I met her, and the moment I gave that away was the single most devastating moment of my life thus far.
I felt my eyes begin to sting with the unshed tears. I cried so much during those first few weeks that it felt as if I had watered the forests of Asgard. I gazed up at Tony, trying to push the feelings back far enough that I wouldn't lose control, "the less I know, the easier it is to stay away. Never think for even a moment that I don't care. I want, more than anything else, to be here with her, to be a part of her life, to teach her, to hold her, to guide her, to love her. However, my presence in her life would put her in even more danger than she's already in right now. I won't do that. I would never do that," I explained, sighing as I gazed back up at the ceiling, willing myself to think of anything else. The tears were coming quickly, and I couldn't let them fall for fear that they would never stop, that I would somehow drown the world with them. I needed to remember why I was on Midgard in the first place, to help Tony-not the other way around.
He remained quiet for a long moment, pondering the meaning behind my words. I knew how confusing it must've been for him. It didn't make much sense to someone "on the outside," how her life could possibly be in danger, but I knew the risks, I weighed them all, and I had made my decision. Knowing that I wasn't going to explain the details to him, he gazed back over at me, our eyes bleeding into each other's. For a moment, I lost myself in the depth of them, drowning in their beauty and pain, "you're far too good for this, Eva, for everything you've been through," he commented, his voice soft, every word sliding off his lips like a waterfall of velvet. He and I were bound together by an unseen thread. I viewed him as one of my own since the moment we met, long before he could even remember. I loved him as if he were my blood, and I watched over him as if he were one of my offspring.
I snickered at his words, "it's funny to hear that from you, a man who cannot see the goodness in himself," I stated, my voice softening as I made my point.
He shook his head, "I've done a lot in my life that I'm not proud of, a lot that you don't know about," he assumed, completely wrong. I had watched over him since the beginning, pestering Heimdall constantly for information about how he was doing as well as three other humans I had met years prior to Tony's birth, one of whom died shortly after-a death I could never forgive myself for, blaming myself for not seeing it coming and being there to prevent it. I knew all that Tony had done; the best, the worst, and everything in between.
For a moment, I wondered if he was truly too blind to see how vital he was to everyone around him, how much of a hero he was to the world, "that's what you fail to see, Tony. The people who care about you-who love you-they don't just want the moments you're proud of. They want to see the moments you fall because your willingness to get back up inspires them. It inspires me," I explained, reaching down between us and grasping his hand in my own, wondering what it would take for him to understand just how much he was loved and cherished.
"No one wants that," he argued, pulling his hand away. I saw the frustration in his eyes before he looked up at the ceiling, "they want someone like you. I remember the orphanage, Eva. The people want someone who never falls, someone who can withstand the storm and help rebuild. People don't love Tony, they love Iron Man; he's everyone's hero," he ranted, irritation seeping into every word as he spoke.
My eyes widened as I thought of the orphanage. I had tried to push it back as far as possible for as long as I could. I tried not to think about the battle of New York, but when I did, the majority of my thoughts were clouded with images of Loki. I tried not to think about the orphanage, but the moment Tony mentioned it, I remembered those hazel eyes. Knowing that I couldn't dwell on it, I pushed it aside, "I fell at the orphanage, Tony, but like you, I picked myself back up and focused on the task at hand to prevent even more chaos," I explained, referencing the countless times he did the same thing. When he was faced with fear, when the odds were stacked against him, he looked the fear and adversity right in the eyes and pushed back against it with all he had. When he fell, he pushed himself back up, dusted himself off, and fought harder than ever before. We both idolized each other, but both of us failed to see our own greatness, both believing that we deserved no kindness, generosity, or gratitude.
I sighed, seeing that he was still unconvinced, "I come from a place where our technology is far more advanced than many Midgardians have even managed to dream of, but you're still one of the smartest people I've ever known; however, you are so ignorant to your importance in everyone else's life. You think yourself to be expendable to the ones who love you, to the ones who would be lost without you. You believe everyone would be better off without you, that you are simply a weight that's holding them down. You think you're damaged, like you need to be fixed, but those pieces are what make you shine like the sun. Those pieces that you believe to be broken are what make you one of the most beautiful souls I've ever encountered in my lifetime," I insisted, wanting him to see that my words were built upon a foundation of truth. I grasped his chin and turned his head until our eyes met once more, "I just wish you could borrow my eyes, even if only for a moment, so that you could see yourself the way I see you," I murmured, cupping his cheek with my hand as I stroked the smooth skin beneath my fingertips.
We laid together in complete silence, our eyes navigating each other like ships lost at sea, desperately trying to find their way home. The look in his eyes when I finished my rant was one of disbelief, as if he couldn't understand why I would see him as something far more beautiful than he saw himself. For a man who longed for acceptance, he also longed for them to despise him just as much-if not more-than he already despised himself. He felt he deserved it. While he was surprised by my words to him, the look in his eyes was still the same: unconvinced. I frowned, feeling the hot tears of shame rise to my eyes. If there was a way to convince him of his goodness, I would find it, but until then, I was left in desperation. I sat up in the bed, eager for a moment to catch my breath and be alone with the silence for a moment. Before I stood up from the cot, though, I gazed back down at him, "for the record, I love Tony Stark; he's my hero," I insisted, standing up and finding my way outside.
I knew that Harley wanted us to keep a low profile, but there was no sign of his mother just yet. The moment I felt her presence, I would be sure to find my way back inside the shack, not wanting to get him into any trouble. As I watched the snow fall around me, I found myself recalling the memory I wanted to give away so badly. My mind betrayed me time and time again, and one of the many memories I wished to forget was pulled to the surface: the orphanage. When I closed my eyes, all I could see were hers. The little girl with eyes bluer than all the oceans in all the nine realms. They were sad eyes that had a glimmer of hope. I didn't know her name, but I knew her face, and I knew those eyes almost as if we had encountered each other in another lifetime, as if we would encounter each other once more. She was dainty, young, innocent...precious.
After my body healed itself from the encounter with Loki, I left him to fight with the other Avengers on the ground. My job had been to contain the threat, to draw the Chitauri out of the buildings where the Midgardians who couldn't run from the city were finding shelter. When I had reached the orphanage, attempting to stop a group of them, I came to a room with 10 Chitauri surrounding dozens of children. Upon entering the room, the Chitauri scrambled to grab the defenseless children, ready and willing to use them as shields against me. That was when my eyes caught those of the little girl. She looked at me like a hero, like I was there to rescue her and only her. Tears welled up in her eyes as the fear rose within her, and I desperately tried to figure out a way to diffuse the situation. The only way I could think of was to surrender, to let them take me hostage and hope that my team would find a way to free me, or the Chitauri would just kill me instead. Either way, it would've been better than letting them massacre the children.
However, the moment I raised my hands to surrender, they took it as a threat, and they began killing the children, starting with that little girl. Then, everything escaped me. I couldn't remember anything between that moment and the moment I found myself on the floor with her body in my arms. Chitauri blood covered my suit, my hands, my sword. It was splattered throughout the room, mixed with the blood of the children they killed. It was one of the few moments in all my life that I felt pure and unbridled hatred. A piece of me knew that I did everything in my power to save them all, but another part of me shattered at the thought of lives lost. Little lives. Those children never knew love, and I was convinced that I could've somehow taken them all back to Asgard with me and shown them all the love in the world...if I hadn't failed them. I had sat in all the carnage of the orphanage until Tony found me holding onto the body of the little girl. He didn't see me cry, but I did. He didn't see me fall apart, but I did. He didn't see the nightmares I had, but I had them. He didn't know about the guilt I felt, but I felt it.
I remembered the orphanage.
"What are you thinking about?" I heard his voice from behind me, pulling me from the horrific scenes playing in my mind. I jumped at the sound of his voice, startled by his presence. It wasn't often that someone could sneak up on me. Loki had been able to do it for a while, but that was before I learned to see through his illusions. Tony took his place next to me as we watched the snow fall together.
Closing my eyes, I found all the strength I needed from the world below my feet. Her energy coursed through my veins, and I found myself wondering what I had ever done to deserve her mercy and understanding. She connected with me and placed a sturdy foundation beneath me to help me find my balance. As tears stung my eyes, I continued to gaze out at the snow, not wanting Tony to see me so vulnerable and weak, "there's not a day that goes by when I don't think of the ones I failed-the bloodshed, the pain, the loss. I fall asleep and dream of their faces. I know that given the choice between compassion and apathy, I would always choose the former. However, I know how painful compassion can be for the person giving it, how much guilt comes with failing those you wish to help. I know how much compassion you hold in your heart, Tony. You would take on any amount of danger-sacrifice yourself-to save someone else. You see the goodness in everyone else around you, but you fail to see it in yourself. I don't understand that," I explained, feeling hopeless that he would ever truly understand how important and wonderful he was.
He snickered to himself, somehow amused by my words, "you've done the same since the day I met you, Eva. You should understand it better than anyone," he reminded me, clearly surprised that I wasn't more sympathetic to his situation. As soon as I opened my mouth to argue my point, he continued, "I have never heard you speak a kind word about yourself, but I think the world of you. You're upset that I have a certain level of self-loathe that I think is completely justified, but you've always been harsh when you talk about yourself," he explained with a sigh, almost as if saying the words wore him out.
I glanced over at him for a moment, taking in the beauty and honesty in his eyes. I could see how much distress my actions caused, and I knew that in order to ask for him to be kinder to himself, I had to show him that I was also willing to do the same. I nodded my head, agreeing with his statement, as I gazed back out at the woods and watched the snow fall, "I loved myself at one point, though. I treated her well and spoke kind words to her. I had a love who whispered words of love directly to my broken heart. I had a man who took me into his home and raised me as if I was one of his own. I had a brother who loved me the way everyone deserves to be loved at least once in their lives-completely and without hesitation. Even when I lost everything, when I thought the goodness in my life had disappeared, I met her," I said, recalling one of the most joyous moments of my life that occurred so soon after my entire world crashed down around me.
Tears welled up in my eyes, and I felt a few slip down my cheeks as I thought of her, as I thought of the unbridled love I felt for her. After Loki's fall, I was certain that I had nothing left to live for, that there would be no purpose for me to serve. He took all the light and love from my life when he fell from the Rainbow Bridge, but meeting her...I felt my soul being stitched back together. She breathed life back into me, and I realized that, while Loki would always be my eternal love, she was my person. My bottom lip quivered as I swallowed the tears back, "then, I abandoned her just as my love abandoned me," I noted, glancing over at Tony and feeling that glimmer of rage I held deep down within the very pit of my stomach, "I've failed the people in my life, and in turn, I have failed myself. I deserve no kind words, especially not from myself. In a perfect world-in a perfect life, I would've done right by all of them, and he would still be mine. I would have protected him even more than I did, and I would've rather seen myself put to death than watch him fall the way he did. In a perfect life, he would be happy, free, accepted. That was all I ever wanted for him, and I believed all the rest would fall into place, but I was wrong. I gave him all I could, but I hadn't anticipated what others could take from him. By tearing him apart, they did the same to me," I ranted, feeling the heat course through my body as the wound on my abdomen began throbbing once more. A searing pain shot through my body, and I gritted my teeth to keep it from overcoming me completely.
"Who was he?" Tony asked, his voice soft and curious.
The moment he asked the question, the rage began to die away as I thought of the centuries we spent together, the endless and eternal love we shared, the freedom we felt with each other. I thought of our future family, the...children we spoke of. I thought of the days and nights we spent in the forest next to the tree, gazing up at the sky through the branches and leaves. We would be curled up together, molding our bodies back together to form the one soul our two bodies were created from. Loki would sing to me often, his like velvet against my skin. If I was upset, he would wrap his arms around me and sway back and forth with me, holding me like I was the very essence of his existence. As I thought of my most sacred memories, the anger and rage died away, but it still lived within me like a dull ache as I thought of a love lost and the pain he endured. I glanced back over at Tony, "search your heart, and you'll find that you already know the answer to that question," I insisted before watching the memories flit across his face.
"Loki," he answered confidently but gently. He hadn't given much thought to his response, almost as if he had always known, "I never pegged you to be into the bad boys," he teased with a smile in a desperate attempt to lighten the mood.
"If you knew him for as long as I have...if you knew him the way I have, you'd see a different side of him. You'd see how passionate and caring he is," I stated, tears filling my eyes once more as I thought of the memories we made, as I wondered if we would ever make anymore, "I've known him all my life, and in the beginning, he was nothing like what you saw in New York. He was always kind-hearted and sensitive. He had so much empathy when it came to everyone else, but they didn't have that kind of patience and kindness for him. People abused him, hurt him in ways I couldn't protect him from, cast him away because he was different. He wasn't Thor, and that's what people expected of him. His own father, our king, never appreciated Loki. He had only a handful of people who showed him love, understanding, kindness, and compassion, people who fought for him. I was one of them. I will always be one of them because the man I love is still in there beneath all the rubble, and it's my responsibility to free him."
"You really miss him," Tony murmured, his voice light, almost as if he didn't want to disturb the silence and peace that I so desperately needed. I didn't want to drown in it, though, not after what happened last time.
I nodded my head, wiping the tears from my cheeks as the heat rose once more. The image that flashed before my eyes was one of the man who stole it all away from me, and I tried my best to bury it as quickly as possible. I learned early in my life that any extreme emotion, including endless and eternal love, was dangerous for those around me, people who I loved and cared about. Suppressing those emotions was the only way to retain control. I couldn't risk the alternative. I glared out into the frozen forest, "my heart is locked in the dungeons beneath Asgard. Thanos took everything from me when he corrupted my beloved, turned him away from me, and stole the very soul from within me. I will watch as he burns for what he has done," I growled, feeling the heat within my body. Every time I felt fury or an incomprehensible level of rage, a fire-that felt as if it rivaled the heat and energy of a star-coursed through my veins.
I clenched my fists, trying to focus on anything else, but the anger wasn't going away. I couldn't feel so deeply with Tony so close. I couldn't even bring myself to imagine the consequences of losing control in his general vicinity. In a desperate attempt to stop the fire, I gripped my abdomen, the mere touch of my fingers sending a surge of pain through my body that stemmed from the wound on my abdomen. I winced at the excruciating pain, but I also breathed a soft sigh of relief that I managed to gain my control once more. I closed my eyes, seeing the face of the man I first saw when I searched Loki's mind on our way back to Asgard. I wanted to know who had done this to him, and I saw him. The Mad Titan. I gritted my teeth as I focused on the pain instead of the anger, "Thanos will know that he should have run while he had the chance because when I find him, he will understand that there has never been a fury as great as mine. He will beg for his life on his knees, but just as he did to Loki, I will grant him no mercy. I will be the one to deliver him to death herself, and if that means I meet her as well, so be it," I hissed, knowing that I would gladly meet my end if it meant that it would have my vengeance.
"I've never heard you talk like that...ever...about anyone," Tony murmured, shocked at my words. In the time we had known each other, Tony found solace in my peaceful nature. The love and compassion came naturally to me, but there was a darker side to me that I disowned, a part of myself that terrified me. She didn't come around often, but when the ones she loved were hurt or taken from her, her imagination was endless when it came to the ways someone could suffer. She wanted to tear them apart, to hurt them the way they hurt her and her loved ones. She was a force to be reckoned with. She was the embodiment of madness, rage, fury, fear, and death. She was the opposite of everything I believed in and treasured. She was the human embodiment of everything I fought so hard against, but I knew why she was there. She was there to preserve life in a way I couldn't. She did what needed to be done to bring about justice and peace. She wasn't afraid of getting her hands dirty in situations that couldn't be resolved with words. Tony had never seen her, so he was right to be disturbed by her sudden appearance, "who is Thanos?" he asked, still visibly shaken.
I cleared my throat, "a long story for another time," I answered, finally pushing her back into the darkness and locking her away until she was needed.
Sensing that I didn't want to talk about Thanos or Loki anymore, Tony changed the subject, "you knew my father," he claimed, making a rather bold statement out of the blue. My eyes widened as the utter disbelief washed over me. I opened my mouth to deny the claim, but I felt like a fish out of water. The mere mention of his father felt like he punched me in the chest, but I never could have anticipated that Tony would find out about that companionship. Before I could find a way to lead him away from the truth without directly lying to him-something I couldn't do-Tony continued, "I found a few of his journals, and he wrote about you...extensively. He had pictures of the two of you, pictures of just you, pages upon pages upon pages of what you wore, the way you wore your hair, your favorite things. You knew him," he claimed once more.
I sighed, knowing that there was no way for me to deny what he was saying. It wouldn't have made much sense to lie when Tony had seen pictures of me with his father. I chewed on my bottom lip, turning my entire body to face him, "Howard was a good man. I know that he had his faults, but he was also one of the most incredible people I have ever known. The way he hurt you, though," I frowned, reaching up to stroke Tony's cheek. He winced just as he always did, but he made a conscious effort to let his guard down when we were together. Still, I could sense his anxiety when people raised their hands at him because he had known angry hands far more often than hands that would show love and gentleness, "I can never forgive him for that. In the time I knew him, though, he always fought for what he thought was right, and I can't fault him for that. He was just as human as anyone else, and just like with you, there were some demons I couldn't save him from," I murmured, tears welling up in my eyes once more as I thought of my late friend.
Tony's eyebrows furrowed, "why didn't you tell me?" he asked, confused as to why I would keep my friendship with his father a secret, why I wouldn't open up and explain to Tony that our connection began before he was even born, before Howard even met Maria.
I snickered, trying to find a lightness in such a heavy conversation, "I didn't want to age myself," I smiled, recalling a time when Howard said the same thing to me. Once he had discovered my true origins and understood that I had been around for over a millenia, he was slightly embarrassed by the comment. Still, even after I told him about being from another realm, he treated me no differently than when we first met each other. He was still one of my closest friends, and he was still just as curious about my history. There never came a time when he treated me like an experiment or an outsider, and I loved him for that. Tony's eyes were still glazed over, still questioning my reasons for not disclosing that piece of information, "the honest reason why I didn't tell you was because I didn't want to upset you. My relationship with your father has nothing to do with my relationship with you. It doesn't define our relationship, and it would never alter the way I feel about you. He was the first human I ever had a true connection with, the first human who ever understood me on a fundamental level. He understood why I sacrificed for something greater than myself. He understood why I would die to protect someone I didn't even know. He understood me, and I understood him. I know that your relationship with him was difficult, and I didn't want to glorify the man he was because I know how much he hurt you," I explained, upset by the choices of my late friend.
Tony's eyes met mine, sparkling with a hope that was rarely present when he spoke about his father. Usually, there was frustration, humiliation, and a bit of contempt. When our eyes locked in that moment, though, I saw him for the first time. He wasn't the businessman, the showman, the engineer, the hero. He was the man who missed his father, the man who was looking for answers, the man who never had a chance to get to know his father. He blinked back the tears in his brown eyes, letting out a long breath, "how did you know him? What...what was he like?" he asked.
I cleared my throat, staring down at the snow beneath me. Tony didn't want to hear about the man his father was while he was alive. He wanted the stories of his father when we first met, when Howard was still in his prime. He wanted to get to know his father through me because Howard was cold as he saw more and more of the world. I wished I had been able to save him from witnessing the violence and despair. I would've done everything in my power to keep him the way he was when we first met just so that Tony could know his father the way I knew him. I would've protected Howard, and in that way, I would've protected Tony. I frowned to myself, "we should go inside before you freeze to death out here," I stated, trying to change the subject. Thinking about Howard always upset me for so many reasons. I missed him, but I had been mourning my friend long before his passing.
Tony hesitated, not wanting to drop it, especially when he was so close to having some answers. His eyes scanned my face and body before he nodded, knowing that it was for the best if we made our way back into the shack. The cold nipped at my skin as we walked back into the shack. I cast one last look into the window of the small home to see Harley curled up on the couch, hugging his knees to his chest as he drifted off to sleep. I smiled to myself before stepping into the shack and closing the door behind me. Tony and I made our way back over to the cot, and he motioned for me to take my place on it first. When I finally situated myself, he crawled into bed next to me, our bodies so close to one another that I felt his warmth against my skin without him even touching me. Our eyes locked, and I knew that he had no intention of sleeping until he had answers, "tell me about him...please," he pleaded with so much desperation in his voice.
I nodded, preparing myself to remember some of the most vulnerable moments of my life. I would remember a time before love hurt me, before love was taken from me. I would remember a time when I saw all the gentleness and kindness I needed in the eyes of a Midgardian, a tenderness that died within him with time. I would remember my ventures to Midgard with my beloved by my side every step away. I would remember the dancing, the promises, the late nights, the love, the laughter, the midnight talks, and how young we made each other feel, as if we hadn't already lived for a millenia. I would remember the walks through the city when it was still young. I would remember the way Loki would snake his arm around my waist and pull me close to him when there was a chill in the air. I would remember the way he walked closest to the street to keep me away from the traffic, it made me feel safe and made him feel important. I would remember the way he walked in stride with me, never ahead of me, never behind me. I would remember how he slipped his slender arms from his jacket to drape it over my shoulders when a chill would cause me to shiver. I would remember how he always looked at me as if he were seeing me for the first time, how we loved like it was the first moment we knew we loved each other.
I would remember the moments that turned my heart into stone.
