Age 17

Mesa, Arizona

I pushed the meatballs around on my plate, not fully present. Dad was talking to the boys about their day, but school was the last thing I wanted to think about. Two months into freshman year as a seventeen year old was going about as badly as it could. I was already failing algebra, and the teachers refused to be accommodating for students who were less than ideal. And as much as I was trying, making friends was slow going. I unnerved people, or maybe I was just late to a party no one had invited me to.

"Ally? You okay?" Dad had a concerned look on his face, and I realized I'd been staring intently into my spaghetti like it had the answers.

"Yeah," I mumbled, "just tired." He looked between me and the tablecloth, hesitant. I knew that look. It meant he had something to say, but was debating whether or not to actually say it.

"I got an email about your grades today," he said quietly. "Your math teacher is concerned, he said he's recommending you switch to online pre-algebra, and then take algebra over the summer to catch up." I had done well enough on an assessment before school started to skip pre-algebra. The problem now was keeping up in class, something that was hard in all my classes.

I didn't say anything, I don't know how to explain. Or if Dad would listen if I did.

"I know it's not the most ideal option, sunshine, but it would help you out, keep you on track."

"Yeah." On track. If I wasn't so tired I would've laughed at the irony. Or the frustration.

Dad took a deep breath, still that same look, that same hesitance at continuing this conversation. Or maybe at having this conversation at all. Something we should've done months ago.

"Ally, I'm trying to be patient here. But I need more than this. You're smart, you're a hard worker, you can figure this out."

I didn't want to do this right now. Hearing it from Dad, not ever getting to the deeper issue. But my frustration overpowered my fatigue, and I snapped.

"Figure this out? What, like I'm some delinquent kid that doesn't care about my education? Like it's my choice?" I hated that it came out so sharp, but I didn't apologize.

"You were doing so well before, I know it's hard-"

"Stop."

I didn't feel bad for interrupting. I did feel bad for fact the whole table flinched when I spoke the word.

"You keep pretending like all I'm doing is picking up where I left off. I'm not. Life didn't hit pause, Dad, everything changed. You need to accept that."

"I have accepted that," Dad said, with an edge that let me know he's thinking about Mom. I fought back frustrated tears. I miss her, I've missed her every day for the last almost five years. But that wasn't the point I was trying to make.

"I mean to me!" I hadn't intended to get angry, but he wasn't listening to me. "You think if you can shove me back in school and be normal that everything will work out. But I'm not normal. I'm not ever gonna be normal."

"I know that, Ally. I know you've been through a lot." He sounded sincere, and I knew he was trying so hard to listen. But it was like he still wanted to deny the actual events, the real facts. That I had been kidnapped, tortured, and turned into a soldier.

"On Asgard, I wanted was to come home," I said, voice less than steady. "And once I got here… It was like you didn't care that I had to fight to be here. That I still don't know where I belong, what I'm supposed to do. All you can think about is getting me 'back on track,' but I don't even know what that means for me."

Dad wasn't making eye contact with me anymore, he's watching my arms. The light was rippling, agitated. It drew a lot of attention, and I was familiar with the expression my own father was trying to hide. Fear, suspicion, distrust.

"I can't just let you out of school, Ally."

"That's not what I'm saying." I caught his eyes, and held them. "I know you're trying to be my dad. I know what happened was terrible and you don't know how to deal with it. But I need you to actually try."

A lull hit the conversation, and I let him process that. He didn't say anything, and the boys took that as their cue to leave the table, put their dishes in the dishwasher, and make themselves scarce.

When it became apparent I was only going to get the silent treatment, I did the same.

"Ally." I looked up at Dad from the sink. "I'm sorry. I'll try, I don't know… but I'll try."

I just nodded. I didn't expect much to come of it; I couldn't let my hopes get up. I left Dad at the kitchen table with his head in his hands.

The boys were shouting from the game room, playing some kind of video game. I had lost track a long time ago which games were fun and which were not. Fortunately, Mario Kart seemed to be a popular classic.

I entered the room, sitting on the couch next to Ben. I wasn't really in the mood for games, but I didn't want my brothers to think I was mad at them. "Who's winning?"

"No one," Ty said, "it's a co-op game and it's kicking our butts."

"Well, if you would stop using my head as a trampoline, maybe we'd pass the level-" Ben accused.

"Your character is literally wearing a trampoline as a hat-" Ty defended. I chuckled.

"Let me see." I watched them play out the level, noting that Ben's character did have a trampoline hat, and seeing where they got stuck.

"Stop doing that!" Ben's frustration was playful, he's not really upset.

I made what I thought were helpful suggestions, but it was another ten minutes until they figured out what they were doing and completed the level. I was unceremoniously tossed a controller, and then the three of us were working together on the next level.

"You know why he's worried about you, right?" Ty asked as we played.

"What?" I replied, distracted. I was now the trampoline character, trying to keep Ben in the air so he could shoot a moving target higher up on the board.

"Dad." Oh. Right. I hadn't forgotten about our talk, but I didn't want to think about it either.

"Why?" Ben finally hits the target and we move on to the next part.

"He thinks it's his fault you got kidnapped." I hit pause on the game, suspending all of us in mid jump.

"What? Why?" Why would he think that? I didn't blame him, Eldmara's minions had taken me from my bed, under stealth magic. Even if Dad had tried to save me, he couldn't stand against Asgardians.

"Because of the… thing. You know, with what happened that one day. When Dad and you got powers. He thinks it was a curse."

Oh. Oh no. I rarely thought about that day. Dad had caught me crying, brought out the box for "the darkest of days." He'd thrown it at the wall, a blue smoke had come out. I remembered the rock, encasing us, suffocating us. Changing us.

"It's not a curse," I corrected, because that's the only thing I can think to say. "It gave Mom more time." Not without consequences, I knew. Grandma had told me when she visited that in the end, the cancer had grown at an accelerated rate, with no chance of stopping it.

"But Dad also thinks it's what got you taken," Ty continued. "Not because of his thing, but because your powers made you a target."

I didn't speak. Technically, he's right. The Kree changes to our DNA, the abilities they gave me, that's what enabled me to hold the Flame. It's why Eldmara chose me, and why, out of all of us that night, I survived.

But none of that was my father's fault. He didn't have any idea of what would happen.

"It's not his fault," I said firmly. "It's not."

"Tell him that. Maybe it'll help." Ty hesitated, maybe waiting to see if I'd leave right then. But I couldn't, I didn't know how to talk about it. I was already worked up at Dad, it would just end up being another argument.

"Do it later," Ben said. "We've got the boss level after this, I wanna do it before Dad kicks us off."

"Ben!" Ty shot his brother a glare. "This is important."

"It's fine," I interjected. "Thanks for letting me know. I'll figure it out. Let's keep going." I unpaused the game, and we resumed somewhat uneasily. My brothers were older, but still how I remembered them, Ty was trying to be responsible, and Ben not so much.

The next week was too busy to talk to almost anyone. Dad had to work late, Ty and Ben were busy with much more complicated math than I was struggling with, though I made an effort. All week though, the thought of my dad thinking it was his fault, it weighed on me.

So it wasn't a surprise when I woke up screaming from a nightmare, the bed having caught fire as I relived the terrible early days of holding the Flame.

"Ally!" Dad was shouting from the hallway, the smoke had set off the alarm in the hallway. I extinguished the fire, but didn't get up, I was still trying to quell the panic.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" He threw my window open so the smoke could clear, and pulled me out of bed. Smoke inhalation didn't really bother me, but it would hurt him, so I made my legs work long enough to get into the living room.

"I'm sorry, I had a nightmare, I didn't mean to set stuff on fire." I was so tired, feeling more terrible as my heart rate slowed.

"I don't care about your room. Are you hurt?"

"No."

"Okay. Just breathe, it's okay. You're safe." His voice broke on the last word, and I remembered what had prompted the nightmare in the first place.

"It's not your fault," I told him.

"What?"

"It's not your fault I got taken."

"I- Ally, I didn't stop them." He coughed, the whole room was starting to get hazy as the smoke spread. "I cursed you, with that crystal."

"There's no way you could have stopped them." I gripped his hand, trying to focus. Part of me was still in the dream, fighting and burning. "They came silently, they used an untraceable spell to get into my room and get out without being seen. It took five seconds, and I didn't even wake up."

I realized too late that revealing details might not make it better. Dad's brow furrowed, his face tight. Like he could see it, and that was more painful than not knowing.

"And you didn't curse me. They would've taken me anyway."

"I just wanted to keep you safe."

I wrapped my arms around my dad. "There was nothing you could've done differently. If they had seen you, they would've killed you. And the boys. And Mom." I knew that for a fact. "And if you hadn't transformed both of us, the Flame would've killed me."

"Are we on fire?" Ben asked, emerging from the hallway and blinking at the smoke.

"Not anymore," Dad said. "Can you get the windows open?" Ben did so, and after another moment, Ty joined him. They soon had every fan going and window open.

Dad hugged me, and we were all silent for a long moment, sitting in the living room.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispered. "I haven't been your dad lately; I haven't been there for you. But I want to be, and I promise I'll try."

I hugged him back, finally able to shake off the rest of the nightmare. It had been a long time since someone was there for me after I freaked out.

"I'll talk about it, about what happened," I replied. "But I can't tell you everything, I can't. There's- there's too much." So many terrible things that I'd both seen and done.

"Whatever you want to share, sunshine," Dad said. "I just want to help."