November 13th, 2013
Asgard—Jane's chamber
The scream tore through the air as Quinn and Volstagg made their way down the hallway. Quinn knew without question it had come from Thor and, judging by the look on Volstagg's face, he did as well—but what could have happened to bring a sound so full of rage and grief from Thor?
Nothing good.
Volstagg started running before the scream's echo had faded and Quinn jogged to keep up, the movement jostling her battered head and making her stomach turn. She slowed when the pain in her ribs became too much and finished the journey to the room at the end of the hall at a fast walk, breathing heavily. Volstagg was leaning on the doorframe when she arrived, his jovial face twisted into a grief-stricken expression, and his gaze was weighted with sadness when it met Quinn's.
Oh no. A horrible feeling settled in her gut like a rock. Her first thought was that Jane had been killed in the battle, her Midgardian frame no more built to withstand the onslaught than Quinn's—who was only alive because she was lucky—but then she remembered whatever it was inside Jane and the way it had protected her from a simple touch. So Jane was an unlikely victim. But if Jane's okay, then who—
Quinn came to an abrupt stop inside the room. She braced herself on the wall with one hand and covered her mouth with the other.
On the floor near the balcony was Thor, crouched over the still form of an older woman who had to be Frigga, his mother. Odin stood to one side, his mouth slightly open and his good eye shining with unshed tears as he grasped his spear with both hands, and Jane to the other, her arms wrapped around herself. Quinn was familiar with the look on her face and knew she wanted more than anything to go to Thor in that moment and offer whatever comfort she could. Quinn also knew Jane wouldn't move. She'd let Thor come to her.
Quinn would have done the same thing.
As it was, she leaned against the wall in a vain attempt to take some of the pressure off her ribs and to help the room stop teetering; she needed to sit down, but she wanted to be up and ready to help if she could. With what or how, she didn't know, but it wasn't in her nature to walk away from a friend in need.
After a moment or two, Thor stood up. There were tears on his face and his jaw was clenched. He shared a long look with his father, then looked around the room and those who'd responded to his cry: Sif and another Asgardian Quinn recognized from New Mexico were standing outside the door near Volstagg, and a few other armoured soldiers stood further down the hall. Thor's eyes found Quinn, and then he looked between her and Jane, before approaching Quinn.
"Are you injured?"
"It's nothing serious," she said, waving off his concern; there were more important things to worry about. "What can I do to help?" She wanted to say she was sorry for his loss, but the words had always felt inadequate to her in the face of losing someone close. Besides, Thor didn't look to be in the mood for platitudes.
"Stay with Jane, please."
Quinn nodded and reached out to squeeze Thor's forearm. "Of course."
He placed his hand over hers. "And have your injuries seen to."
"Don't worry about me." Thor's answering look said don't argue, so Quinn sighed, relenting. "Fine."
Quinn offered an apologetic smile when Thor met her gaze again, hoping he would understand the depth of her sympathy. She knew what it was like to lose someone that close—granted, Coulson had come back, but that didn't erase the grief she'd felt after the Battle of New York. Also, none of the Avengers aside from Steve knew he was back. Thor squeezed her hand after a few heartbeats, and gave a small nod, which seemed to say he understood.
After Thor exchanged some inaudible words with Jane, he picked up his mother's body and, trailed by everyone else, left, leaving Quinn and Jane standing on opposite sides of the room.
Quinn collapsed gratefully into a nearby chair with a heavy sigh once it was just her and Jane in the room. Her head, chest, and bad leg ached terribly. "Are you okay?" she asked Jane. "You weren't injured in the fight?"
"No. Uhm, Frigga protected me." Jane sat in a chair next to Quinn's, clenching her hands as if she was resisting reaching out to help. "You don't look so good. Do you want me to find someone to have a look at you?"
"I'll be fine for now. It's just some cracked ribs and a minor concussion. There's not much that could be done anyway." It felt like she'd been saying the same thing a lot in the last thirty minutes or so. All she really wanted was some Advil, a cold drink, and to lay down, but she knew none of those things were likely to happen any time soon. "They won't slow me down much."
Jane looked at Quinn—and the brace on her leg—with some skepticism, but said nothing.
Quinn rolled her eyes. She was used to people doubting her physicality because of the brace, but it never got any easier to brush off. Right then, she was even interested in trying. "My leg was injured in Puente Antiguo," she snapped. "It hasn't nothing to do with our present situation."
Jane's cheeks coloured slightly. "Sorry. Can I ask what happened? I don't remember seeing you with SHIELD in New Mexico."
Stuffing down the snippy response she wanted to give, Quinn said, "When the Destroyer—the Asgardian metal guy—came through and tore up the town, it cut a building out from under me. Pieces of that building fell on top of me, though my left leg took the brunt of it. And you didn't see me with SHIELD because my job was mainly recon on Thor. At that point, you weren't part of my job, though I doubt you would have been any more receptive then."
"I doubt anyone would be receptive to being watched by a government agency all the time."
Quinn's patience was running thin, even though she knew she wasn't being kind exactly. "First of all, the agency wasn't going to be watching you—I was. Second, it wasn't all the time. I was meant to check in and make sure you had everything you needed and weren't experiencing anything alarming or weird. That you were safe, since your connection to Thor and the Avengers could put you and your loved ones at risk. Third, it was your choice to withdraw from SHIELD protection, but it's my choice to think it was a really stupid decision, especially given where we've ended up."
"I had nothing to do with bringing you here."
"No, but you were supposed to be under my protection and when you vanished and ended up with whatever the hell it is coursing through your veins—"
"The Aether."
"What?"
"It's called the Aether. According to Odin, it's an ancient destructive force of some kind."
"Great. When you reappeared with the Aether in your body, Thor came to Earth to yell at me about not doing my job and now I'm here, injured—again—and stuck keeping an eye on you, though what Thor expects me to do against any threat here is a mystery since they could pound us both into paste without much effort at all."
Jane was quiet for a few minutes, her eyes never leaving Quinn's; Quinn finally looked away, her tawny eyes flicking to the door, hoping for a distraction or food. "Well, I am sorry you ended up here, though I'm not sure I can apologize for bringing you here."
Quinn sighed, relenting. "No, that was my own fault." She scrubbed her hands over her face, fighting the urge to yell at Jane; Quinn couldn't hold the desire for privacy against her, and she'd done nothing wrong. "Did Odin tell you anything else about the Aether?"
"Only that the Dark Elves—who just attacked—were supposed to be extinct and their leader wants the Aether to plunge the whole universe into darkness."
"Well that's just great." I want to go home, Quinn thought, surprising herself. Maybe you'd want to stay if you hadn't gotten the shit kicked out of you in two seconds. Maybe you'd want to stay if you were here on, say, a vacation. "Did Thor say anything about getting us back to Earth? Though I suppose he wants to get the Aether out of you first."
"Since the Dark Elves were after me to get to it, getting it out of me would be preferable. But no, he hasn't said anything about getting back to Earth yet. There might be other things on his mind."
"No shit." Quinn shifted around and tried to find a more comfortable position. "I'm sure he'll have a plan. We can't stay here, and I"m sure he doesn't want to bring any more devastation to his people." The limited view from the balcony offered no sign of the destruction, but it wasn't hard to recall the sight and smell of the death and destruction the attack had brought. "He'll get us home as soon as he can."
"You could go now, I'm sure."
"I'm not leaving until I make sure this is resolved. Something tells me I'm going to have to handle some clean up when I get back and I want to have all the info." She rubbed her hands over her face again. "Let's just try and get through this with everyone alive and in as many pieces as they arrived in."
After some time in which Quinn and Jane remained mostly silent, Sif returned with a young-looking man in tow, both bearing platters of food and drink. Both of them looked worn out—Quinn imagined most Asgardians, especially those who had been in the areas attacked, probably looked the same.
"The funeral for Frigga and the fallen soldiers will take place tonight," Sif said; she even sounded tired. "Someone will come and collect you, if you wish to attend."
"I'd like to pay my respects," Quinn said.
Jane nodded. "I would as well."
The smile Sif offered was expectedly half-hearted. "Very well." She turned to her companion, who was standing a little ways behind Sif with his hands clasped in front of him. "This is Bo, a healer. He's here to take a look at your injuries, Quinn, and make sure there is nothing too serious that should be dealt with."
Before Quinn could protest, Bo began to look her over, quietly and efficiently, in a firm but gentle manner. She sighed, relenting. "Thanks," she said to both the Asgardians.
Sif nodded, and then left, presumably to go help with the funeral preparations. Quinn wished she knew Sif better so she could have offered some words of support or encouragement that would have maybe had some impact. She didn't like feeling useless and unsure; on top of being in an unfamiliar environment and injured, Quinn was feeling unsteady and… scared in a way she hadn't since she'd joined SHIELD.
"It seems you were correct about your injuries," Bo said, stepping back from Quinn. "Drink this—" he handed her a small vial of a blue liquid from one of his pockets "—and try not to do anything too strenuous for at least a day or two. I might be able to do more for you, if you would consent to a few scans—"
"No. Thank you for your help, Bo." Quinn drank the tonic or whatever it was in one swig, and almost immediately felt better. "Huh."
"That is a temporary measure to dull pain so you can move around and accomplish small tasks without issue. You are not healed," Bo stressed. "And any extreme activity—"
"Relax, Bo. I'll do my best to stay calm." Because I've had so much luck with that in the past and it's so likely that I'll get through this whole shitshow without further injury. "Thanks again, Bo."
The Asgardian sighed in a way Quinn wasn't used to seeing from strangers and handed her another of the vials. "For an emergency. I am not sure how prolonged use will affect Midgardian biology or physiology or… anything. That's already a smaller dose than I would normally give."
Quinn looked down at the vial. Oddly, she didn't feel any apprehension about taking the Asgardian substance without thought; she was sure it would be fine. "I'll save it for if I really need it, don't worry."
Bo gave her a look that said he was indeed worried, but then he turned and left, following Sif's earlier path.
"Do you always engender such faith from strangers?"
Quinn rolled her eyes as she turned to face Jane, who had started in on the supplied food and drink. The comment had been meant as a joke, Quinn was pretty sure, but it fell flat. "I'm going to take a bath to clean up. Save me some food."
Jane took a bath after Quinn, and the pair of them made quick work of the supplied food and drink. They passed the time mostly in silence, Quinn taking a few more pictures off the balcony and then just looking out over the city, beautiful still in its sadness.
It wasn't until the sun was setting that Thor returned, his eyes dark and countenance expectedly grief-stricken. He said nothing except to bid them to follow and took Jane's hand to lead the way out of the damaged palace and down to the water's edge. Quinn followed a few paces behind to give Thor and Jane some privacy but keep herself from getting lost and, as before, kept her head on a swivel to take in as much as possible.
The Asgardians—maybe thousands of them—were already gathering when they arrived. The crowd parted to allow their prince forward, Quinn and Jane on either side. Quinn was well aware of the curious glances and the whispered questions, but she ignored them, keeping her eyes straight ahead and focusing on the beauty of the sombre ceremony. Even still, she felt her cheeks darken a bit under the scrutiny; she'd never liked being the centre of attention, especially not in large groups.
The bodies of the fallen soldiers were arranged in small carved boats along the docks, dressed in their armour and with swords in hands. Their families were placing trinkets and mementos alongside them and the air was filled with the sounds of grief and heartbreak. Many of the Asgardians were holding glowing spheres, adding a silver-white light to the gold-orange glow of the torchlight.
In a small channel running under the palace, a large boat waited, holding the body of Frigga. She was surrounded by flowers and covered in a gossamer shroud, a dagger held in her hands. Even in death, she looked regal and strong. As her boat was launched, Quinn felt Thor tense beside her; her own eyes prickled with unshed tears.
It wasn't until Frigga's boat—then those of every fallen soldier—were set alight in a volley of flaming arrows that Quinn began to cry. Through wavering vision, she watched the glowing orbs float into the sky and the deceased dissolve into star stuff and return to the nebulae-lit skies. Part of her mind wanted to ask how, but the larger part of her brain just enjoyed the beautiful phenomenon and let the tears fall freely. She could hear some people singing, others sobbing, and the soft rush of the waterfall beneath it all.
It really was a beautiful sight.
She reached over to squeeze Thor's hand once, but otherwise left him to his grief, and remained by his side until well after the crowd had dispersed, her eyes glued to the stars above.