Chapter Thirty-Nine - Not in Asgard Anymore
Sleipnir wandered along Yggdrasil's branches for awhile, waiting for Loki to give him an actual destination. Loki felt cold, exhausted and a bit out of sorts. They had nothing with them, so he rationalized that they needed to find both a place that his double wouldn't know about, but also where they would be welcomed and offered assistance, which had to be why he thought tracking down the residence of the Murphys such an inspired idea when it struck him.
He couldn't contact S.H.I.E.L.D. for that information without going against Clint's order; and since he didn't know where Cami or Clint had grown up on Midgard, Loki had no better choice than to force Cami to awaken. He pinched at her sensitive neck until she flinched then shook her awake.
"Cami, where do the Murphys live?" he asked, trying to keep her attention by raising his voice.
"Cedar Falls," she muttered. "In Iowa." Her eyelids drooped as she nestled deeper into her blanket against him.
Midgard was a large realm. Even with Sleipnir's speed and Loki's basic knowledge of the United States, it still took them hours to find their way with the threat of the revealing sunrise chasing after them.
Once inside Cedar Fall's city limits, Sleipnir hid and watched over Cami, while Loki approached a cashier at a convenience store, asking him to look up the address for Robert and Joyce Murphy on his smartphone. Luckily for Loki, the sleep-deprived, yet savvy young man knew of Eagle Ridge Road and gave him directions that weren't too obscure to follow.
Loki and Sleipnir soon stood in the street in front of the Murphys' two-story home. Loki knew it was only a matter of time before someone came along or looked out their window and spotted the massive eight-legged warhorse.
"You must go," Loki told Sleipnir. "Don't ever return here, not at anyone's request—even mine." Reluctant to obey, the horse didn't depart until Loki returned his insistent nuzzles and begged a second time for his discretion.
On the covered porch, Loki noted the wide bench seat suspended by chains. He decided to lay Cami out there before pressing the doorbell. As he suspected, it took some time and another signal of the bell before the innards of the house started to light up and the door opened.
The man dressed in a bathrobe and slippers stood nearly as tall as Loki with broad shoulders like Thor's but also had a bulky gut. The hair on his head and in his thin mustache and beard shown more gray than brown. The wrinkles around his large blue eyes and the weathering of his skin marked him probably in his mid to late fifties.
"Robert Murphy?" Loki asked, just to be sure, though he recognized him from the photograph he'd seen in Cami's room.
"Yes?" the man said, nodding as he took in Loki's hastily-donned clothes and his windblown hair.
"We've never met," Loki said with a touch of rising uncertainty, "but I was told you know my…" He had to search for a word to convey a just description of their relationship. After a brief hesitation, he finished with, "fiancée," liking it much better than the silly word girlfriend.
Mr. Murphy looked toward the bench seat as Loki gestured, but had to come out of the house to see the sleeping beauty. "Oh my, Cami," he said with wide eyes and tender, bewildered excitement.
"She needs some minor medical attention," Loki told him, turning her face away from the blanket to reveal the still oozing slice on her cheek. "May I bring her inside?"
"Yes, yes, of course," Mr. Murphy said, rushing to hold open the door. "Put her on the couch," he said, gesturing to the room on the left as Loki entered, carrying Cami. "I'll get my wife and our first aid supplies." Then he hurried up the nearby staircase, calling out, "Joyce, come quick! Cami and Thomas are here."
Thomas? Loki thought. How does Mr. Murphy know that name?
He decided it was a bit premature to start panicking. He had no idea if Bad Loki even knew he had an alias. It was more plausible that Cami had mentioned him to the Murphys than Bad Loki having the foreknowledge of them coming here.
Loki laid Cami on the couch, but situated her to keep the bloody section of the blanket away from the cushions. Cami had really only been grazed by the treated arrow and hours had passed since. Loki hoped she would come around on her own soon.
After the impressive size of Mr. Murphy, the slender and much shorter stature of Mrs. Murphy surprised him. She had a reddish-brown mane with some hints of gray, a few, loosely defined wrinkles and rather intriguing hazel eyes that exuded sincere interest and warmth as she introduced herself.
"You are Thomas? Cami's boyfriend?" she asked with the same respectful enthusiasm that her husband had shown.
Loki nodded. "Yes, Mrs. Murphy."
She offered him a seat then sat on the available edge next to Cami to give her cheek and ear close inspection. Her expression turned more concerned. "Is this a knife wound?"
"Arrow," Loki said, watching her puzzle and frown at the answer and decide not to inquire further.
Mr. Murphy returned with a damp hand towel and a long plastic box with a handle. He set the box on the end table and opened it to reveal a varied collection of bandages, cotton balls, medicine tubes and bottles inside.
"Do you think she'll need stitches?" Mr. Murphy asked his wife, handing her the towel.
"No. The cuts aren't that deep."
Loki watched the Murphy's crowd around, fawning over the patient with adoring eyes and soft touches and decided not to pull out the vial of water his mother had sent with him. In no time, the scratches had been cleaned, treated and covered with adhesive bandages.
"Would you like a cup of coffee, Thomas?" Mr. Murphy asked as he pushed up from where he knelt beside the couch and onto his feet.
Now that he sat in the soft armchair and had warmed up, Loki realized that fatigue crept ever closer. He considered accepting out of courtesy and in the hope that the beverage would rejuvenate his senses some.
"Don't start that, Bobbie," Mrs. Murphy chided. "You'll try to chat his ear off. Let Thomas rest first. Coffee later."
Mr. Murphy took this playful ribbing in stride.
"You two don't have any bags?" Mrs. Murphy asked.
"No. Our departure was sudden."
"Don't worry," Mr. Murphy said. "We'll work that all out. We're just glad to meet you, Thomas, and to have Cami home."
Loki carried Cami up the stairs, following behind Mrs. Murphy as she led the way to their guest room, which she explained had once been Cami's, but remodeled almost a year ago. The bedroom appeared a little smaller than the ones in the suite back at the helicarrier, decorated in green and brown hues with light cherry wood furniture.
Mr. Murphy took the bloody blanket and robe from him as Loki unwrapped Cami. Then he drew back the covers so Loki could slip her into bed.
"You two have your own bathroom through there," Mrs. Murphy told Loki gesturing to the adjacent door. "There should be plenty of towels in the closet."
"Thank you."
It felt like they deserved so much more information than he offered. Loki could see the questions in their eyes, but they were affording him extra trust and consideration because of Cami.
"Come down after you've had a chance to catch some winks," Mr. Murphy said.
Loki shook Mr. Murphy's hand, thanking them both once more before they vacated the room. Then he shut the door, switched off the light, undressed and climbed in with Cami. Her breathing sounded more natural now. Since he was too tired to think on his troubles and was convinced that they were safe, Loki let himself sleep.
Clint slumped in the chair, rubbing his forehead and blocking the glare from the monitor. The canvas walls of the tent shuddered around him and the flap fluttered with the dry, early morning breeze. He listened to the director's report through a headset as he gazed out at the men loading the standard, black and silver coffin into his supply truck.
"Was Shale married?" Clint interrupted the director to ask.
"I don't know," Fury admitted. "Personnel is handling the details."
"I never asked him," Clint said, his tone a little angry. "Brandon showed up early and stayed late. Never complained or questioned any order I gave him. Yet, I didn't take the time to ask the guy about himself or even properly thank him for his contributions."
"Clint, you've lost men before. Don't take this so hard. Have you slept? You look exhausted."
He put his hand down and straightened his posture. His eyes flitted to the video camera perched on top of the monitor then back to Nick's image and chose not to respond.
"Maybe the team should come home," Fury said, offering the out that Clint had expected.
Though part of him wanted to agree, a pang of guilt flared his anger, making it impossible for him to do so. He was a soldier after all. "Sir," Clint said, "without our help, Odin and Rosner might not have discovered what was happening until it was too late."
"I think we've contributed all that we can."
"Failure is not an option. How many times have you told us that?"
"We have to take care of our own planet and people. If King Odin isn't capable of keeping my people safe, how can I ask any of you to remain under his command?"
"Odin is trying to foster cooperation between the realms. What message does it send if Earth chooses to run away? We are part of this universe whether we like it or not. We can't just hide and hope that someone will fix the problem for us."
Nick went silent, his look agitated. Finally he asked, "Would we be disagreeing about this if it wasn't for yours and Cami's connection to the enemy?"
Clint covered the microphone on his headset as he cussed under his breath.
"You're compromised," Nick said. "Surely you realize that."
"Is that Montoya's opinion?"
"She hasn't said anything I didn't expect to hear."
"Meaning, Sir?"
"Cut the crap, Clint. You're just going to quit if I remove you from this mission, which won't do either of us a fuck of good. So, please give me at least one reason that I can take to the Council for why S.H.I.E.L.D. should continue to support Odin."
Clint took the time to think, suspecting Fury would disregard anything he said too hastily. "Well… I think we can win."
Nick looked surprised. "You're going to have to elaborate."
"I don't think Bad Loki would have bothered to threaten us if we didn't have some advantage. We just found out that Cami's power can hurt him; and I can see through his illusions. Loki knows him and at least the basics of his spells."
"We don't currently know Loki and Cami's whereabouts."
"That's true, but right now it's better that we don't."
After a long pause of consideration, Fury asked, "Who do you want?"
"Everyone you can spare."
"Alright. Your wedding gift will arrive any minute. That ought to help some."
"Wedding gift?"
Fury smiled. "We'll be in touch."
Clint offered a salute then cut the camera feed. He noticed the sound of approaching aircraft engines as soon as he pulled off the bulky headphones. The tent shuddered and dirt kicked up around him as Clint stepped out to see a large transport plane, a modified Boeing C-17 with pivoting engines, make a vertical landing several yards outside the base camp.
The supply officer held out his clipboard to Clint, requesting his signature on the documents.
"I didn't know we still used those," Clint commented, tilting his head toward the Boeing.
The officer shrugged. "It must be carrying something important. Commander Hill said to keep you here until it arrived." He moved away to help load the last of the crates.
Within moments of touching down, the ramp lowered and a dark SUV drove out. Clint watched it approach, pulling up beside him. The darkened front passenger window slid down, revealing Agent Phil Coulson.
"I heard I'm invited to a wedding."
Clint grinned, pulling open the car door to embrace his old friend and mentor who stepped out to hug him back. "God, it's great to see you."
"The director passed your request along, which I'm honored to fulfill by-the-way. Then we found out recent events have left your team overworked and short on technicians." The other doors opened and five more people climbed out of the vehicle. "My team has been briefed on your mission and unanimously voted to offer their assistance."
Clint took in the faces before him, noting the hopeful determination in the features of the youngest members. Geez, half the team are just kids, he thought with unease.
Phil gestured to each person as he introduced them. "Specialist Melinda May—pilot, mission operations and my second in command, Specialist Grant Ward—interrogator and covert strategy, Dr. Leopold Fitz—weapons engineering and technical sciences, Dr. Jemma Simmons—xeno and biochemistry, and Trainee Skye—she hacks things."
Clint recognized Agent May. He nodded in greeting then followed Coulson as he moved away.
"It's your call," Coulson said privately. "I told them not to expect anything."
Wondering if this was an all-or-nothing deal, Clint said, "You heard about Brandon Shale? Your techs are awful young and wide-eyed."
"They know what happened. Fitz already has some ideas to improve security."
Clint turned, studying the team's features again and contemplating. "You know, I'm not even sure I want you here now," he admitted. "I kinda feel like I'm serving you up on a silver platter."
Coulson didn't flinch. "I'm not scared of him."
"That definitely worries me," Clint said emphatically. "This Loki is super-concentrated bad."
"Fury has kept me in the loop on everything about Thomas Murphy and his evil twin. I'm still here, offering my friends all the help I can give."
Though he frowned, Clint couldn't deny the calm that Coulson's confident presence provided him. "You always choose the best, right?"
"I do."
"Alright. Have them grab their gear."
How many times had Clint traveled across the cosmos lately? Dozens, at least, and the process still astonished and scared him in a way that humbled and inspired at the same time. He smiled with reassurance at Skye who fidgeted off to his left. "Don't close your eyes," he told the group. "It's a short trip with an amazing view."
"Should we be holding our breaths?" Dr. Simmons asked.
He couldn't help chuckling at her timid concern. "It isn't necessary."
Agent May parked their packed SUV at the edge of the bifrost target site next to the supply truck and joined the group. The vehicles would be sent up after them.
He waited until certain they were ready then lifted his face to the sky. "Heimdall, we've got some new recruits. Kindly open the bifrost."
Maybe Clint should have told Simmons to hold her breath after all, because she screamed for the majority of the trip. He steadied himself as they landed and grabbed for Skye as she started to topple. Everyone else ended up on the floor.
"Sorry," Clint said. "Should have warned you about that."
Given a minute and some helpful hands, the team managed to get upright again.
"Everyone, this is Heimdall, the Gatekeeper of Asgard. He's waiting to hear your names. So, don't be shy."
After the introductions and retrieving the truck and SUV, Clint escorted them through the city to the palace. They'd unloaded from the vehicles when Natasha stepped out of the command center to embrace Coulson and get the story behind the arrivals. She had some of the same reservations as Clint, but once Fitz, Simmons and Skye got an eyeful of the command center, their boundless ideas and rapid speech patterns couldn't be easily silenced.
"You get used to them," Coulson said. "They're extra excited at the moment."
"Understandable," Natasha said and turned to Clint. "Go get some sleep. Kotter, Stott and Fandral are taking the next shift. I'll ask Sif and the guards to help with the truck."
"Get the coffin to Dr. Lloyd as soon as possible, okay? Hey, when are you sleeping?"
"Soon, after I settle these guys in."
Coulson promised, "We won't keep her long."
Extra guards patrolled in the corridors as Clint walked to his room. He didn't bother changing out of his uniform or even crawling under the covers as he settled on the bed. Doubts and worries flitted away; and he drifted into a much needed sleep.
Frigga had told him it would be hard to tell the difference between dreams and visions, yet Clint knew the stone cavern where he appeared had to be the backdrop to some important happening. Multiple archways led out of the room with different designs carved into them. Clint didn't have time to study them in detail before a woman's sob and the cry of an infant echoed from the closest opening. He followed the sounds down a short passage and into another space lit by patches of glowing ice along the engraved walls.
There were two Jotun females on a large stone bed draped with animal hides. One laid between furs and the other sat on the edge in a leather dress. They had long, dark hair with similar features and skin markings. Their attentions were drawn to something tiny the first woman held in her massive arms, which Clint realized was a baby when it let out a wail in response to its mother's own sob.
"Do not cry, Farbauti," the sitting woman said. "The Asgardians will not find us."
"He is too small," the woman in the bed insisted, her words full of emotion. "Laufey demanded I kill him."
"I will explain to the king that the child is special," the other woman said, caressing the baby's head. "See how his markings change when I touch him? He will be a powerful shifter."
The mother scooped up the baby in her palm and held it out, which caused the baby to flail and cry. "Laufey will not listen. You must take him out of the Jotunheim, somewhere his size will not be a weakness. Teach him to hide his appearance. Tell him every day how much I love and want to protect him."
The other woman took the naked infant, holding him close to her. "I will do this for you, my most beloved sister. Where should I go?"
"The passage to Midgard might still be open if Odin's men have not reached the temple. It leads to cold lands. Surely the simpleminded Humans will be easily charmed by your cunning."
The woman stood, but paused to lean in and press her forehead to her sister's. "Someday, when he is older and stronger, I will return your son to you," she promised, then hurried past Clint and out of the cavern.
Clint's surroundings darkened then brightened again to reveal another cave of ice and stone. This time only a small lantern with an eerie green flame provided any light. He realized he stood inside a sort of circular prison with cells and ascending stairs carved out of the stone.
A slender form stepped out of a doorway up top, starting down the stairs.
"He's coming," a girl's voice warned from one of the cells; and the space somehow grew quieter except for the footfalls on the rock.
Clint recognized Bad Loki as he drew closer to the lantern, carrying his scepter.
"I come with good news." When he was met with only silence, Bad Loki asked with a tone that teased at benevolence, "Who is ready to go home?" He turned, eying the cells. "I offer freedom to one of you. Who wants it?"
"It's just a trick," a voice spat back.
Bad Loki moved to where this accusation had come. The blue gem of his scepter glowed brighter, revealing a Jotun male close to seven feet tall who shied away from the bars to the back of the cell. Clint estimated from the team's research that the boy would be in the developmental range of a ten or eleven year-old Human child.
"Are you their leader? The one who suggested this little adventure—an expedition into the caves? Well, brave boy, I'll give you some time to talk it over with your friends. Decide which of you is leaving with me or I'll assume you are volunteering."
Clint realized he should be trying to get a head count on the number of prisoners in the cells, but the extra light from the staff dimmed as Loki moved back for the stairs and the scene switched again.
His first impressions of the new location were that of a large, darkened room with beds and other pieces of furniture. He detected immediate motion nearby, turning as a short form like a young child walked away from him. The figure had long, dark hair and wore a flowing garment like a dress or nightgown.
Clint followed the form from the bedroom into a large bathroom with a small fire burning in a centralized brazier. The room seemed familiar, yet Clint didn't take long to ponder this idea as the child continued through another doorway, climbing the heavy frame to get into bed with another figure obscured from his inspection by the low lighting.
The mystery woman inquired, "Did you have a bad dream?"
"No," said the girl. Her sweet, worried voice asked, "Why you crying, Mommy? I was bad?"
"Oh no," the woman said with an emotional gasp. She moved, causing a white spark before a bedside lamp came on.
Now it was Clint's turn to gasp. These were Loki's rooms. The woman in the bed was Cami; and the girl nestling into her embrace had light blue skin with Jotun markings and pale purple-red eyes. He guessed she would be three years-old by Human standards.
"I'm just sad tonight," Cami told the girl. "I am missing people I have not seen in a long time."
"Uncle Clint?"
"Yeah."
"And Daddy?"
Cami's lips pursed, jaw tensed and eyes grew wet with renewed tears. When this reaction made the girl frown, Cami pulled her closer.
The girl wiped at her mother's tears, patted her hair and cheeks and gave her a precious kiss on the face before pulling out of her arms to scoot off the bed. "I be right back, Mommy," she promised and scurried the direction she'd first come.
Clint stepped around to the other side of the bed, watching Cami run her hands through tangled locks while she took deep breaths and blew the air out between quivering lips.
The girl returned, carrying a wooden box almost too big for her to handle alone. She also came around the bed, walking carefully until her mother could take the box and help her back into the bed.
Clint leaned in to read the writing painted on the lid of the box that read Edith F. J. Lokidottir.
Together the girls pulled photos, trinkets and a small, touchscreen tablet out of the box. Most of the pictures Clint saw were probably copies from Loki's S.H.I.E.L.D. file, but one was a posed shot of Loki, Cami, Natasha and himself at what had to be his wedding based on the nice clothes everyone wore and Natasha's white gown with delicate purple trim and accents.
"Please make it work," the girl begged, pushing the power button on the tablet over and over. "Bat-ry died again."
With a single touch from Cami, the screen lit up; and the girl easily navigated the menus until an audio recording of Loki's voice started.
"Edie, this is your father," the device played. "I'm recording this because we'll never get to meet. I'm sure you'll hear many stories about me and most of them are probably true. The one thing I need you to believe more than anything else people might say, is that I love you very much and would be there with you and your mother right now if I could..."
Soft snoring, the feel of cotton sheets against her bare and bruised legs, warmth, light and colors all flooded into her senses when Cami woke. She turned on her side, causing some mild pain in her lower back and examined Loki's relaxed features. She smiled at the snoring, thinking it cute. Since he'd never done that before, she decided it had to be a sign of exhaustion.
Cami rubbed at her eyes before taking in the room, finding aspects of it that seemed familiar. She folded back the covers, easing off the bed to walk to the window and open the blinds. Once her eyes adjusted to the sunlight and swept the front yard and street visible through the pane, Cami knew. For about five years this had been her window, her bedroom, her house… her home.
She wandered into the adjacent bathroom to relieve her aching bladder first. Then she inspected the bandages on her face, multiple bruises from Bad Loki's shadow tendrils and a cluster of dark purple marks on her neck that reminded her of a hickey.
Cami returned to the bedroom to find Loki sitting on the edge of the bed, running his hands through his hair.
"Did I wake you? I'm sorry."
"Come here," he said and pulled her close as soon as she neared. He also took in her bruises, moving clothes out of his way as he turned her this way and that to inspect practically every inch of her.
"I'm okay," Cami insisted. "When did we get here?"
He checked the digital clock at the bedside. His eyes looked so tired. "A few hours ago."
"You should go back to sleep," she said, but he must have anticipated her saying this for he didn't hesitate to dismiss the suggestion with a shake of his head.
"Listen," he said, lowering his tone. "We are in hiding. No one is supposed to know we're here. I want you to enjoy this chance to visit the Murphys, but we have to be careful."
"Clint doesn't know?"
"No."
"S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
"No one, other than Sleipnir."
"Did you tell Joyce and Bobbie this?"
"They will probably guess from what little I did say." He took her hands in his. "They called me Thomas. You didn't tell them anything sensitive about me, did you?"
She hadn't detected any anger in his tone, but Cami tensed. "No," she promised. "This is going to suck. I hate lying to them."
He kissed her hands and got up to dress. Cami found her robe hanging on the doorknob and gratefully pulled it on. She could hear voices as soon as they stepped out into the hallway. She led the way to the main level and back area of the house.
The Murphys sat at the kitchen table, sipping coffee while they chatted and collaborated over the newspaper crossword puzzle. Joyce jumped up as the couple cleared the doorway, pulling Cami into a strong hug that kept her a willing prisoner until Bobbie approached to steal her away. Everyone started talking at once then apologized and silenced with nervous smiles.
"I think you two could use some breakfast," Joyce said.
In no time they gathered around the table drinking coffee and eating Joyce's cinnamon french toast with rich, maple syrup and powdered sugar. Bobbie concentrated on his crossword, leaning forward with pen in hand and the tip of his tongue sticking out of his mouth under his mustache.
"Hard one?" Cami guessed.
Bobbie nodded. "Are you any good with words?" he asked Loki.
"Sometimes," he said, causing Cami to snicker.
"I need a seven-letter word that starts with the letter I, meaning dull or boring."
"Insipid," Loki suggested.
Bobbie scratched the word into the squares. "Perfect."
"I told you he's smart," Cami said. Her hand slipped under the table to rest on Loki's thigh. "He's good at remembering things too."
Loki offered her a small smile in return for the unexpected praise.
Joyce said, "Cami told us that you're an intelligence analyst."
"That's correct."
"What is that exactly?"
"I piece together information from various sources to help solve problems and answer difficult questions."
Cami added, "His mom told me he has liked puzzles and riddles since he was little."
With the mention of his mother, a whole batch of questions came up about Loki's family that had to be carefully addressed. As Loki weighed his answers, Cami pondered the effectiveness of using parents (or foster parents in this case) for an interrogation tool. In light of their sincere interest, Loki shared that he had been adopted into an influential and dysfunctional family. Even Thor came up in the conversation, but at least Loki thought to call him Donald, after his alias Donald Blake, instead of outing himself as a relation to the famous Avenger from Asgard.
There had already been talk of a shopping trip to get some clothes and toiletries for them before they awoke. So, Bobbie was able to rescue them from more uncomfortable questions by reminding Joyce of the errand.
"We need to keep a low profile," Cami told them, getting up to clear the dirty dishes away for Joyce who started a shopping list.
"Where are your pants?" Bobbie teased her. "Surely you can afford bottoms, even on an entry-level government salary."
"I'm not sure what to say," Cami admitted, looking down at herself. He'd been kind not to mention the bruises on her legs. At least the short robe hid her panties.
"Put on a new pot of coffee," Joyce told Bobbie. She herded Cami out of the kitchen as she offered, "You can borrow some of my clothes."
Joyce sat on the edge of the bed while Cami browsed through her closet and drawers. She asked, "When did you cut your hair?"
Cami steeled at the question. "Last week. I don't like it."
"You've never worn your hair short. I bet some highlights and a little curl would perk it up." Joyce paused, probably discerning from Cami's expression that this was a sore subject with her. Switching topics, Joyce gave Cami a coy, conspiring look and said, "Thomas is handsome and polite. I like his accent."
"He is great," Cami admitted and brought her selections to the bed with her. She pulled on a pair of jeans that were big, but the addition of a belt helped.
"He's older than I expected."
Though she managed not to sigh or growl, the eye roll happened before Cami could help herself. "Clint had issues with that at first too."
Again Joyce decided to move on. "How is Clint?"
"Good. He's getting married in a few days." And I probably won't be there, Cami thought.
"That's wonderful," Joyce said, but her smile faded as Cami pulled off her robe and shirt to reveal even more bruises. Avoiding direct eye contact, Cami slipped on the borrowed bra and blouse then sat beside Joyce to put the socks on. Her tone was low and shaky as Joyce asked, "How did those happen?"
"Job-related injuries."
This fact did not ease Joyce's concern. She reached out to touch Cami's cheek. "And this one too?"
Cami shrugged and a significant silence followed. She didn't want to think about those last moments in the palace corridor with Clint aiming his arrow and the terrible realization of what was about to happen. Her chest tightened and hot tears came out of nowhere, blurring Cami's vision and running down her flushing cheeks. Knowing that she couldn't talk to Joyce about everything that bothered her only escalated the emotion and made her bawl.
"Oh, honey," Joyce said, reaching for her, "what's wrong?"
No, no, no! Cami thought as her magic sparked and began to detect and connect to every appliance and device in the house. Pain flared inside her rib cage, causing her to cry out and clutch her chest.
This dramatic break down frightened Joyce. She hurried from the room, yelling downstairs, "Thomas!"
Cami was grimacing and fighting for air when Loki rushed into the room with Bobbie and Joyce following close.
"You're alright," Loki declared, gathering her into his arms and drawing her up chest to chest with him so her feet dangled. He rested his head against hers as she buried her face in his neck with another pain-induced sob. "Breathe with me," he urged, inhaling deeply.
It hurt, but Cami obeyed. Then pushed the air out when he did. The prickling spread from her chest. She felt it connect to Loki. He tensed yet drew in another breath, which she matched. Cami wrapped her shaking arms around him, grateful for his strong hold as he started a graceful, calming sway and slow turn, like they were dancing to a lulling, romantic melody. She lost herself in the feel of their rising and falling chests and his controlled breaths skimming over her ear until the power withdrew from its exploration and back into her core.
"Very good, my dear," Loki said, his voice smooth and calm. "Let it pass. You will be alright." He stopped moving and just held her.
"I'm sorry," Cami whispered when the lingering pain in her chest had dulled, leaving her a little drained. "I got upset. It was a stupid thing."
"You recovered marvelously," Loki whispered back, gifting kisses to her ear.
"I scared Joyce and Bobbie."
He answered with a chuckle, "Parents are resilient."