Hela was brushing her teeth in the guest bathroom the next morning, trying to get the feel of interstate grit out of her mouth. She changed out of her pajamas and her head hurt from sleeping so hard, but at least she hadn't fallen asleep on the couch like the rest of her family. Thor and Loki were kids—they'd slept in the back of a moving van and bounced right up the next day, but Frigga had to be miserable.

Then Frigga passed the open bathroom door with a box in her arms.

Hela glanced at herself in the mirror and mumbled around her toothbrush. "Or not."

All right. She'd bite.

She swished and spit and tossed her brush in the cup then followed her step-mom into the hall. Frigga pushed into the guest bedroom where Hela had been staying, and she set the box at the foot of the bed. Wiping her mouth on her wrist, the young woman crossed her arms leaned against the doorframe. Frigga straightened, dusted herself off, and turned to leave only to see her step-daughter and jumped. "Oh!" She put a hand over her heart. "Oh, Hela. There you are. I was just bringing down a box of your old things to see if you wanted them."

"My things?"

"Yes, just a few things you left behind when you moved out."

"Don't you have work?"

Frigga smiled. "It's Sunday."

Hela blinked and counted backward. They'd left on a Wednesday, parked in a cornfield Friday night. Yeah, Sunday was about right. She had to be in Chicago tomorrow to meet with the client, and she hadn't even started planning the trip home. Groaning, Hela rubbed her temple. "Do you mind if Fenris stays here for a few days? I'll pick him up on Wednesday."

"Of course not. There's no rush to be out of here you know."

Hela squatted down next to the box and rifled through the things. There were old band t-shirts, CDs, ratty posters, a couple of high school textbooks, knickknacks she'd long since forgotten about. "You saved all this?"

"Of course."

She dug to the bottom and found an old report card—straight A's.

"You were such a bright student." Frigga almost sounded proud as she sat down on the bed.

Hela squinted at the faded note at the bottom. "'Helen is a bright child but contentious and often provokes her peers deliberately.' Yeah, I was a real angel."

"You went through a lot of change, and I didn't help you nearly as much as I should have." Frigga's face fell, and her shoulders drooped, the confidence and grace she always exuded gone. "I'm sorry."

Hela stared at her stepmother in shock. What was she supposed to say to that? Then she felt herself getting angry, the familiar rage hardening over her like armor. Frigga thought she could just apologize, and that would overwrite years of distance? "You're sorry? Sorry?"

Frigga flinched.

A hundred memories sprang to mind—Hela screaming at Odin in the living room, in the parking lot, in the car. Odin bellowing back. Frigga on the periphery, trying to calm two hurricanes, never able to get close enough without the howling turning on her.

Anger dissolved into stomach-hollowing regret. Hela dropped onto the floor, one knee up and her legs at awkward angles. "I…" She covered her face with one hand. Something hot churned in her chest, worse than regret. "I sound just like him. I'm…"

"I know. And I'm so sorry, Hela. I should have been a better mother. I should have shown you how much I loved you, how much I wanted you." Frigga's eyes welled up, and her lip trembled. "I should have protected you better. You wanted to be loved so badly."

She looked around the room, trying to look at anything but the crying woman on her bed. She had wanted Frigga to love her, but she'd been so focused on winning Odin's approval, and when that failed, just his attention. Anger and shame boiled in her, and she wanted to scream or smash something, to run away from this conversation.

Then her gaze fell on the cardboard box full of forgotten things. Eight years. Eight years, Frigga had quietly packed school lunches, helped her get those straight A's, helped her dye and cut her hair—trying to bridge the canyon between them and never reaching far enough.

She had resented Frigga, Hela realized. For taking Odin's attention, for bringing bright, beloved Thor into their lives.

Hela didn't remember her own mother. Bridget had died young and tragic and occupied the same blurry space as one of Odin's early business contacts, and her father had been the permanent fixture of her childhood. Hela was Odin's daughter, first, last, and always. She might as well have lived on Mars for the void that created around her, one that not even Frigga with all her love could have crossed.

Something hot streaked down Hela's cheek, and she touched her face. Was she crying? She hadn't cried in… she couldn't remember.

Frigga moved from the bed to kneel beside Hela and laid a tentative hand on her shoulder. "I should have fought harder for you. I'm so sorry, and I don't expect you to forgive me…"

Hela threw her arms around her stepmother's neck and clenched her teeth. "Shut up. Shut up, or I cry, and then I'll really hate you."

Frigga rocked back in surprise then hugged Hela back and, shaking, buried her face in her stepdaughter's shoulder. They sat on the carpet until the tears stopped coming, then Hela pulled back and wiped her face on her wrist. "I'm still mad."

Frigga nodded and wiped her own eyes.

"But I'd… I'd like to be friends. If you want."

Frigga gave a laugh-sob and smiled. "I do. I do want that."

Hela looked down at her hands. Under her nails was the faintest remain of green spray paint. "Me and Dad are exactly the same, aren't we?"

Is this what Loki felt like, when he said Odin hated him?

Frigga laid a hand on Hela's wrist. "You're very similar. But I think you've been your own person for a long time."

Hela took a deep breath. She'd emoted more in the past twenty minutes than she had in a year, and that was enough of that. She gestured back to the box. Most of it was garbage, she'd never missed it, but she found herself clearing her throat to get rid of the lump in her throat. "Hmm, how many boxes do you have?"

Frigga blinked in surprise, then ran her hands over her hand and straightened her shirt as if physically pulling herself together. "There's one more. You were pretty thorough."

"Really? I don't believe that." She must have left so much junk behind when she moved out in a whirlwind of adrenaline. If someone had all this in her condo, she probably would have thrown it out.

Frigga retrieved the other box, full of the same. Then bright ringtone went off across the hall, and she started. "I'm sorry, that's mine. Do you mind if…"

"No. Go, it's probably important."

Frigga excused herself, and Hela turned back to her stuff. How was she supposed to get all this stuff home? None of it was especially valuable or sentimental, but Frigga had saved it for years, and after the conversation they'd just had, it didn't feel right to toss it. This family was doing things to her, and she still wasn't sure how she was going to land. The shirts she rolled up and stuffed in her suitcase, but the CDs she carried downstairs to the living room.

"Hey, Thor?"

A small hand and pajamaed arm poked out over the couch and pointed. "He's in the kitchen."

"Thanks, kid."

In the kitchen Thor stood with his head half in the fridge, toast hanging out of his mouth, a jean jacket and tennis shoes on, phone in one hand.

Hela set the stack of DVDs down on the counter with a loud rattle. "Where are you going?"

He glanced over one shoulder and took the toast out of his mouth. "Out."

She leaned against the counter and raised one eyebrow.

"Jane and the guys are coming to pick me up."

She snorted. "Your friends can drive?"

"Jane's got her permit."

"I'm pretty sure that doesn't mean she can have a bunch of people in the car."

Thor rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, Mom. We're biking to Val's."

Hela frowned. "Val?"

"Yeah. She's pretty cool. Babysits for Loki sometimes when I've got a hockey game."

"And she can drive?"

"Yeah, she's like 20 something?" He took another big bite of toast. "Teaches boxing. She's cool."

Boxing ring? Hela blinked as high school memories rushed back. "Val? As in The Valkyrie? As in Brunhild Johnson?"

"Yeah. You know her?"

They'd been friends in college or at least roommates. Brunhild was a poster child—champion boxer "Valkyrie" who worked weekends at her dad's boxing ring, honors students, steady girlfriend. She and Hela had taken a lot of the same business classes, studied together, but once Brunhild and Astrid started going steady and moved off campus, they'd fallen out of touch. "Val" had taken over the family business after all.

Thor, oblivious to his half-sister's journey down memory lane, shut the fridge and ambled over the to counter. "What are these?" He picked up one of the CD cases and cracked it open. "The Black Parade? You really were an emo kid."

"I mean if you don't want them." She plucked it out of his hand and gave him a disinterested look that was more put on than genuine.

"I didn't say that." He grabbed for it, and she jerked it up out of reach. She wouldn't be able to do that much longer; had he grown since she picked him off the curb in Phoenix.

Instead of jumping for it, he shot her a dirty look. "You're the worst."

Hela pushed the pile towards him. "I have to be in Chicago tomorrow, so you'll be rid of me soon enough."

Thor them up and shrugged. "I don't know, Loki likes having you around."

Hela raised an eyebrow, but Thor stuffed the rest of the toast in his mouth and checked his phone. "'Kay, they're here. Seeya."

And then he was gone, screen door banging at his heels. Hela glanced out the window, and in the driveway was a small army of kids on bikes.

Loki padded up behind her with Fenris clicking long nails beside him. He still had bedhead from sleeping on the couch.

"You didn't want to go?" she asked.

"Nah." He scratched Fenris' ears. "You wanna make pancakes?"

She glanced at her watch. It was well past an acceptable breakfast time, but they hadn't exactly been on a strict routine for the past week. "I have to buy my plane ticket."

Loki frowned. "You're leaving?"

"My meeting. Or did you already forget?"

"No, I'm not dumb."

"You know, it would be a real hassle for me to fly Fenris to Chicago and back. Will you keep him out of trouble until I get back?"

His eyes lit up, and he stuck out his chin and pulled himself up to his full height, which had to be all of four-foot-nothing. "Uh-huh. I'll feed him and take him for walks, and he can sleep on my bed."

"Hmm, I'm sure he'd love that. It's a pretty grown-up responsibility, you know."

"I can follow a recipe all by myself."

"Last time you cooked, you set my apartment on fire."

"Hey!"

"I'm teasing, kid. I know you'll take good care of my dog. Make your pancakes then; I'll supervise."

Loki muttered under his breath but gathered ingredients out of the cabinets, knocking into and maneuvering around Fenris at every step, ignoring the perfectly good stepstool by the sink and crawling up onto the counters to get what he wanted. Fenris was tall enough to lay his chin on the counter, so Loki ended up kneeling on a chair at the island, bowl cradled in his arms, to keep the chocolate chip batter out of reach.

Hela bought her tickets there and back and booked a hotel room from her phone, then stepped in just in time to do the actual griddle work.

Loki crossed his arms on the counter and rested his chin on them. "I heard you and Mom yelling."

Hela paused, spatula hovering over a bubbling cake. She hadn't thought they were yelling, but Loki was an attentive kid. She flipped the pancake. Golden. "Not much gets past you, huh?"

He shook his head and watched her flip pancakes until there was a steaming pile on a plate.

"Got any bacon?"

He went to the fridge and came back with a small pack that Hela tossed into the same pan. It crackled and popped.

"I don't want you to go."

"Yeah? Well, we never did get to Disneyland. Maybe… maybe you guys can come to see me."

Loki perked up. "Really?"

"Yeah. If your mom is down for it."

"That would be cool."

A knock came at the front door. Hela reached to turn the stove off, but Loki was already halfway to the front hall with Fenris at his heels. Unembarrassed of his dinosaur pajamas and bed head, he threw open the door. "Oh hi, Mr. Heimdall."

"Good morning, Loki. Is your mother available?"

"She's upstairs, but you can come in." He opened the door wider and in came Heimdall, wearing a sharp suit and carrying a briefcase the same as he had when he worked at Asgard, Inc. He had a beard now and looked more relaxed than she had ever seen him. He looked around and spied Hela in the kitchen.

"Good morning. I'm just here to drop off some paperwork."

She nodded and slid the bacon out of the pan onto some paper towels. "Frigga's upstairs, but you're welcome to join us for brunch." She glanced at the clock. "Or maybe just lunch at this point."

"Thank you. I think I will."

Loki set the breakfast nook table with four places and laid one plate on the floor near his chair. Hela set out the food, some syrup, and some grapes she'd found in the fridge.

"I'm glad you made the drive safe and sound." Heimdall set his briefcase on the counter and took a seat. As a child, she'd never been able to sneak up on him, and he always seemed to catch her doing exactly what she wasn't supposed to be doing. She'd been convinced the man was psychic. It's probably what made him the best private attorney in the state after he quit from Asgard, Inc.

"We all made it alive. Hey, Loki, go tell your mom food's ready."

"Okay." He sprinted off, thundering up the stairs.

Hela filled some glasses with ice water and set them on the table. "Thanks for what you've done for Frigga and the kids."

"Your mother's a good woman. You're not so bad yourself when you chose to be."

She laughed. "Unfortunately, being an asshole is a genetic trait."

"Hmm. I'm not sure an asshole would have driven her brothers across the country just to ease their mother's mind."

She shrugged. "They're not bad kids."

"No. No, they're not. I know it's not really any of my business, but how much longer are they going to be strung along?"

"Without going into detail, it shouldn't be much longer. Your parents are both stubborn people, but given everything that's happened, I think the conclusion is pretty clear."

Then Loki returned with his mom in tow. The four of them dished up the meal, and if Loki snuck a pancake and a strip of bacon onto the plate on the floor for Fenris, Hela didn't say anything.