Loki's arms flashed up as he allowed himself to fall backwards. Something that could be spiked armor or spined flesh grazed across his forearms as he knocked away thorn-like daggers. The Chitauri followed him as he dropped toward the ground. He took in the sludge-white, mottled skin and ridged, scale-like patterns. Pale blue eyes burned from within deep hollows, the face more like a bleached skull in the desert than anything Loki would expect to see on a living creature.
As he hit the pavement he continued his backward roll, launching the creature off him. It hit with a jarring crunch but twisted in on itself even as it tumbled across the sidewalk and landed on its feet. It levered itself upright, jaws open in a snarling hiss of yellowed teeth against a grey throat. This was no drone. The lean, supple form was that of a Chitauri female. Semi-organic implants tore through the skin, armor and spines inserted directly over the muscle. In some places the ragged flesh had ripped, allowing the bone-like plates to show through the tatters.
The Avengers reacted quickly, having formed a barrier around Book before Loki had even hit the ground. White-hot light already burned in Ironman's palm as Thor hefted Mjolnir. Banner was somewhat less responsive than the others, but he too had positioned himself near Book, but decidedly behind the others.
"What is that?!" exclaimed Book, his voice cracking over the word.
Any answers Loki might have given were interrupted by a string of grating sounds from the creature as she slung her limp arm back into socket. Two long spines ran along her forearms and jutted well past her elbows. As the sounds—words—continued, the spines began to slide toward her hands, the movement clear beneath the skin. They slid down along the back of her hands until they resembled two blades strapped to her arms.
"Wow. Ew," said Stark, managing to look both smug and disgusted at the same time.
"Loki, what is this?" asked Thor, never taking his eyes off the Chitauri.
He didn't get the chance to answer as the thing suddenly threw back its head and let out an oscillating cry. Loki whipped around as more shimmering imperfections appeared around them. He swallowed, It's retribution.
Chaos exploded among them. The first Chitauri threw itself at Loki again, curling around Stark's blast of energy. Other Chitauri seemed to tear through the air, suddenly slashing at the Avengers from every side. Book yelped as the Captain jerked him beyond the reach of a striking blade, drawing his pistol at the same time and emptying three rounds into the advancing alien. Thor's hammer connected with one of the creatures, but a second filled the space before Thor could reverse his swing. The bone-blade skipped across his armored chest, but dug a bright red chasm along his neck.
"Get them out of here!" shouted Stark, words muffling as his face mask snapped down.
"Move!" shouted Banner as he put his hand to the middle of Book's back, herding him across the street and into an alley. Loki sprinted after them, Rogers taking up the rear. It took five more rounds for him to drop the Chitauri that had attacked him, but even still it was struggling to get up.
"This way!" Book took the lead, springing down a side alley and forcing open a chained gate just far enough for them to squeeze through. Dumpsters and back steps flashed by as they took another turn and then burst onto an open street. This was one of the deadest parts of town, a mosaic of empty lots, boarded up storefronts and warehouses, all centered around a graveyard of derelict train cars.
They followed Book's retreating form across a set of railroad tracks set into the asphalt, and between the looming bulks of two bricked up warehouses. They sunk down behind a dumpster whose bottom had all but rusted out and leaked reddish ooze onto the pavement.
"You know what those are?" asked Rogers.
Loki nodded. Tapping Book's shoulder so the boy would look at him, he flashed through several signs in rapid succession.
Book's face scrunched in frustration. "What the heck was that?! Slow down, I can't understand you when you're going that fast." He peered intently at Loki's exasperated signs. "That is not a word. C-h-i-t-a-u-r-i?"
"The aliens from New York," muttered Banner as he pressed against the back of the dumpster.
Nodding, Loki craned his head around to peek down the alley. So far there was no sign of pursuit—though he could hear Thor and Stark engaging.
"They don't look a thing like the Chitauri," said Rogers, checking the rim of the alley to make sure they didn't receive unwelcome guests from above. He flexed his fingers, unconsciously readjusting his grip on a shield that wasn't there.
[These are the lovely ladies of the species. The Chitauri,] Loki made a C at the side of his mouth and drew it away from himself rather than spelling the word again, [operate much like some insect species.] Book translated.
There was a spark of intellectual interest in Banner's eyes. "Those were drones that we fought—the males at the bottom of the ladder."
Nodding, Loki continued with Book translating for the others. [A truly appropriate word. All but a few males aren't developed any further than the brutes you encountered and are linked together in a kind of hive mind. The females come in various shades of deadly. These seem to be of the assassin strain.]
"Are we being attacked by space bugs?" asked Book suddenly. He smacked Loki upside the arm. "What did you do?!"
The Captain looked like he wanted to smile at the look of affronted irritation that Loki leveled at Book.
"Oh don't give me that. This is exactly the kind of thing you'd drag us into."
"Tactics. What can you tell me about them?" interrupted Rogers, as Loki started an animated rebuttal. As the Trickster thought, the Captain caught a glimpse of the shrewd tactician Thor had claimed his brother to be. Those were eyes that constantly probed for weaknesses.
[Their speed and reflexes likely outmatch your own. They move in threes, in and out of the fray. The blades grafted to their forearms serve as their main weapon. Beware their range, they are flexible nearly to the point of double-jointedness.] He had seen little of the females during his…stay…with the Chitauri, even less of this particular class. What he remembered was far from comforting. An explosion echoed between the faded brick walls. Loki winced. It seemed the Avengers' presence did not bode well for the structural integrity of the town. He hoped they spared the library—Kayden would have an absolute fit if something happened to her sacred halls. A brief image of the spirited librarian bashing in the skull of a Chitauri with a copy of War and Peace flashed through Loki's mind.
"Heads up!" Stark shouted as he careened down the alley, spinning violently as he tried to dislodge an alien from his back. "Hitchhiker!"
The others hit the pavement as he rocketed past. Loki instinctively covered Book with his body while the Captain tried to shield all three of them at once. Stark bounced off the walls in an attempt to crush the shrieking creature. He only managed to tear large chunks of masonry from the walls.
"Tony!" Rogers suddenly stood up as Iron Man shot up and backwards in a sharp loop, heading for them once again. The Captain braced himself as the red and gold blur flashed by. His hand shot out, gripping the Chitauri by the back of the neck and flinging her to the ground. Before he had a chance to do anything else, the creature had already doubled itself over to get its feet beneath it and lunged.
A burning repulsor hole suddenly appeared in her chest. The creature seized briefly, its limbs going rigid as it collapsed to the ground.
"Huh…so point-blank works. Good to know." Stark lowered his hand and flipped up his visor. He looked at Banner. "Think we should go green?" he asked.
The other scientist shook his head. "Not if we can help it. The town's quaint. And I'd like to keep it standing if at all possible."
Thunder cracked directly above them, shockwaves from the sound jolting through them. Book flinched, leaning toward Loki. Stark raised an eyebrow at this. Book merely gave him the look Loki had dubbed his 'what's your deal?' look.
"Um…Loki says we need room to move. They're too…" Book screwed his mouth to the side as he tried to interpret the signs, "agile? In tight spaces they can outmaneuver us—you, I'm pretty sure they could outmaneuver me anywhere."
"You'd know all about how these things fought, wouldn't you?" said Stark.
"Not now, Tony," said Rogers as another peal of thunder sounded, followed by a white-hot flash. "Book, you know this town. Where can we draw these things out away from everyone?"
A broad grin spread across Book's face as he turned smugly to Loki.
[Yes, the great and powerful Captain of Freedom, Justice, and Bald Eagles is asking for your advice. Try not to get too excited.]
Book stuck out his tongue and rolled his eyes. "I'm thinking the old train depot. Tons of room for a throw down and no one around. What do you think?" He turned to Loki for confirmation.
"Sounds good." Rogers ejected the magazine from his gun while he talked and replaced it with a new one that had been clipped to his belt. "Tony, think you could bring Thor and our new friends to the party?"
Banner laughed and Stark gave his smuggest expression. Apparently an inside joke of some kind.
"I don't think I like your idea of a party," mumbled Book.
"One evil-alien reunion, coming up," said Stark as he blasted into the sky, plastering their clothes against them with the force of his take-off.
Banner watched his progress through the sky for a moment. He continued to follow Stark's diminishing trail. "Is anyone going to ask the obvious question?" He spoke mildly, almost as if he really didn't want anyone to look at him. He lowered his gaze and turned to face Loki. "Why are your pals suddenly out for blood?"
"And why show up now?" asked Rogers.
Book turned to Loki with confusion.
This conversation wandered into areas Loki didn't find particularly pleasant. Especially with Book a check to every move he might make. Loki cursed Her again for this muteness. For over a year Book had been forced to do nothing but learn how to read Loki. By now he was nearly fluent. So, Loki did what he always did when the truth of the matter hovered far too close to the surface for comfort.
The mocking smile broke across his face. [We parted on bad terms.] He motioned elegantly toward the rendezvous. [Is this really the time?]
Book translated.
Before the boy had finished, Captain Rogers was already nodding. "I hate to say it, but he's right. We need to move."
As Book marched in front of him, Loki grabbed the back of his knapsack and tugged it off his shoulders. Reflexes honed by years of street living surged to the surface as Bok latched onto the strap, instinctively whirling away. He glowered up at Loki, still clutching the bag possessively. "What is your deal?"
[Speed is our greatest ally. These would only slow us down.] To prove his point, he lifted his own satchel from his shoulders and wedged it behind the abandoned dumpster. It felt somewhat like stripping off every stitch of clothing. How pitiful that his life had condensed to a sad, duct-taped leather bag. He looked meaningfully from his burden to Book's.
Rogers and Banner watched as the boy worked his lower lip. "What if someone takes them?"
Loki raised his eyebrows in incredulity. With our friend here? He motioned at the insectoidal corpse.
Clearly unhappy, Book thrust his bag at Loki, fingers refusing to let loose even as Loki took its weight in his hands. He didn't have to say how important it was to him. Loki looked down at the ragged satchel, knowing it wasn't just cloth and supplies in hands, but Book's life, the only things he could truly call his own. Slowly, Book's fingers dropped away and he shoved his hands into his pockets while he spun on his heel and started toward the end of the alley.
Stashing the sack, Loki followed, allowing the Captain and Banner to trail behind. The sun burst full upon them as the towering brick buildings gave way to vacant lots choked with stands of dead grass, burnt tires, and the shimmer of broken glass in the dirt.
The vacant gaze of a derelict factory followed their progress along abandoned rails, many of the timbers scavenged or rotted away. A relatively useless chain fence stretched across their path, the barbed wire at the top long since stripped from whole sections and left coiled among the prickly weeds and rocks at the base. Book took two quick running steps and launched himself at the fence, scrambling up and over with practiced ease. The Captain helped Banner across and then vaulted over himself. Loki was pleased to say he followed suit with little difficulty.
In front of them an expanse of gravel dotted with islands of scrub stretched to the foot of another brick warehouse, a relic of better times. The train tracks ran parallel, a partial chassis still rusting in place. A suspect wooden platform listed along the other side of the rails, its shingles scattered on the ground around it, the little shelter's windows boarded up. Burn barrels and mangled twists of metal dotted the open area, battered crates shoaled up against the warehouse base and partially obscured one of its splintered doors.
Thunder rattled what windows the old building still had.
"Get out of sight and stay there," ordered Rogers as he pointed toward the piles of junk and gave Book's shoulder a gentle shove.
"You heard him," said Book as he noticed Loki didn't move to follow him. He gave a disgusted sort of grunt as he realized Loki had no intentions of sitting on the sidelines. "What are you going to do? Snark them to death?"
I thought I might use these first. Loki displayed the two knives that had suddenly appeared in his hands.
"Where did those even come from?" asked Banner. His tone betrayed an emotion somewhere between being impressed and disturbed.
"You too, Bruce." Rogers motioned towards the growing shadows clustered around the sightless warehouse. "Let's keep the Other Guy in reserve."
"I like that plan," said Banner mildly as he jogged toward the other end of the lot.
Book glowered at Loki before closing the space between them. The crookedness of his jaw became all the more pronounced as stubbornness overcame him. He reached up suddenly and gripped the cuff of Loki's jacket. The move surprised Loki, who looked down at the child.
"Just don't die," the boy said quietly.
For a moment, Loki wasn't quite sure what to say to that. Book seemed genuinely concerned—why shouldn't he be, you did your job well—and though Loki knew how he ought to respond in his part as Book's friend, he wasn't sure what he really wanted to say. The naked care in the gesture made him uncomfortable. Not because it was there, but because he felt it and was actually considering letting himself enjoy the fact that someone was truly worried about his wellbeing.
Old habits won out in the end and Loki offered a half smile. I'll endeavor not to.
Interpreting the smirk, Book stuck out his tongue. "Yeah, well, if you die I'll necromancy your butt. And then kick it!" With that, Book trotted off across the open space, gravel and dead grass crunching under his feet.
Rogers drew up near Loki as the whine of repulsors crept upon their hearing. He glanced at the knives in Loki's hands. "I'm assuming you know how to use those?"
The look of disdain leveled at the Captain should have had him sheepishly apologizing. Instead his face remained set. He glanced up at the sky, searching for the first glimpse of red and gold among the clouds. "Just remember, those aren't supposed to go in our backs. You can remember that, right?" He glanced at his companion. All he received was a shrug in reply.
The Chitauri didn't give them a chance to continue. Shimmerings in the air hardened into blades and shrieks. Rogers leapt into action, ducking under a blow meant to separate his patriotic head from his patriotic body. He whirled, gravel grinding beneath his heel as he emptied three rounds into his assailant. The shock of impact sent the creature reeling backwards, spine arching toward the ground. With a gruesome baring of teeth, the Chitauri pivoted upright, its chest plate dinged, but not pierced.
Lightning scorched the earth, catching one creature in its arcing flame. A furl of red followed like a second lightning strike as Thor slammed his hammer through the blackened husk. Dust and charcoal billowed outward. Even before the grit had settled, two more Chitauri were flinging themselves through the remains of their comrade, blades ringing off Mjolnir.
"Problem there, Captain Hammer?" quipped Stark as he took aim at those harassing Thor. The ground scorched black where the creature had been standing mere seconds before. Slithering up to Thor's shoulders, she launched herself straight at Stark, talons latching onto the subtle grooves between the metal plates. "Had a girlfriend like you once—just didn't know when to let go."
Ironman jerked violently to the side, repulsors flaring. The creature held on even as the metal suit shot forward erratically, suddenly rolled to the side and then shot straight up. Howling in rage, the alien smashed its head against Stark's faceplate. A webbing of cracks spun out from the impact as inside damage statistics flashed across the screen. Thick, viscous blood oozed from the Chitauri's split forehead as she barred her teeth in what could have been a vicious smile.
"J.A.R.V.I.S., time to give her the 'Ex Package'."
"Yes, sir." J.A.R.V.I.S.'s voice echoed faintly within the confines of the helmet. "Preparing reserve thrusters now."
Stark gave a lopsided grin as he looked the slavering creature in the eye. "Really, it's not you, it's me. Probably. Least 90% me. No less than 85%."
The creature hissed something harsh and jagged.
"It's been fun." Stark flipped suddenly in midair and hurtled toward the factory. The leaf-strewn rooftop seemed to stretch upwards to meet him. "J.A.R.V.I.S., tell me the angle is right."
"Trajectory is on target," replied the AI.
Struggling to hang on, the Chitauri refused to let loose even as the building rushed toward them. With a wet crunching sound, Stark peeled the creature off him along the side of the building, leaving a dark streak down the weathered brick. Twisting round at the last possible moment, he thrust his legs outward and vaulted off the building, skimming upside down across the ground. Dust and bracken kicked up in his wake.
Loki peered through the dusty haze as shadowy figures converged on him. Malice glittered in their dark eyes. He couldn't keep them all in view at once. He heard the attack coming from behind, dodging to the side only to nearly impale himself on the blades of another. Whirling away, Loki became movement. A moment's hesitation meant death.
The Chitauri weren't kind enough to come at him one at a time, instead all converging at once, a single creature of teeth and knives. Riding up on a strike, Loki wrapped his arm around his opponent's, locking them up. A swift turn to the left and he felt the Chitauri's body convulse as one of its sisters' drove her blade deep into his living shield. Even as he felt his captive begin to drop, it twisted its arm around at an impossible angle, nearly taking his head off with her swing as he ducked.
Failing to fully avoid a thrust at his legs, his footing went out from under him. As he fell, he let fly one of his knives. It buried in the fleshy part of one of their throats. The moment of satisfaction vanished when he hit the ground, rolling up onto his shoulder and then onto his feet. Halfway through the movement, a spike of pain tore through him. The momentum was too fast, the angle too extreme for his mortal form to fully take the abuse.
Even as the jolt tore a grimace from him, he was moving, stretching his senses to know where the next blow would fall. At this point in a fight, there was no strategy or thought, merely action and reaction. Instinct and muscle memory taking over. Even as he caught a falling blade on his crossed knives and thrust upwards, diving toward the now exposed underarm, he was vaguely aware of the battle around him. Gun shots came infrequently as the Captain realized only the most precise of shots would count and his bullets dwindled. Thor's battle cries mingled with the growls of Chitauri and the air hummed with ozone and the flash-heated metallic scent of Stark's weapons. Vaguely, Loki realized the Chitauri had pushed him into the factory's shadow. He caught sight of Banner and Book amongst the rubble. The Chitauri didn't seem to know they were there, or they didn't care.
A slash across his arm opened a slender line of red. He hadn't been fast enough. Beyond the fact that he wasn't dressed for battle, Loki could feel his mortal reserves waning. He'd already taken a few nicks here and there—to be expected in this kind of battle—but they were starting to move beyond minor irritations. His reflexes felt heavy, his timing just not fast enough. He couldn't guard all sides at once.
"Loki!" Thor's voice echoed across the lot. He'd actually noticed Loki's predicament and was making his way toward his onetime brother. How unusual.
Though he didn't want to admit it, Loki had been heading for Thor as well. There was a time when guarding one another's backs had been second nature. And fighting with Thor was almost as natural as fighting against him. Besides, Thor made a loud, destructive shield.
The Chitauri sensed what they were doing and closed ranks.
That's when it happened.
Loki didn't see what did it. He'd been facing the other way, one of his knives buried in a chitinous throat. He didn't see the other one coming up behind him or Book darting from cover with a piece of rebar raised above his head. The metal rod bit deep between the plates of carapace-like armor, ripping from Book's hands as the female turned. Loki didn't see the creature slide the bar from its flesh. Didn't see the rebar strike out like mercury.
He heard it.
He heard the hitching gasp.
The sound of it came to him above all the others. The rage of battle dropped away to a whispering as dry pain tore through a young throat. A wetness thickened the moan.
What Loki saw as he turned was the confused expression on Book's suddenly pale face. He managed two steps before his knees buckled and he crunched into the gravel.
"Book!" Roger's voice cut through the battle. He flung a discarded rusty hubcap with deadly accuracy, slicing an alien in two. Vaulting over debris, Roger dropped to his knees by Book's side. The pooling blood wicked up his jeans.
Book's eyes were already glassy, his skin deathly. Even his doubled fists couldn't plug the hole through his chest. With each spasm of his torn heart, blood spurted over the wound's ragged edge. Vaguely his gaze rolled past the Captain and settled weakly on Loki. He opened reddened lips to say something, but a seizing tremor thrust through him. Every muscle contracted—then went completely limp. His gaze stared into nothingness.
"Loki!" Thor's voice boomed across the space.
He turned, mechanically, to face the foe he knew would greet him. The Chitauri hurtled from the nearby roof, bladed arms extended to embrace him. A red howl contorted her features, revealing the double-row of serrated plates in her throat. He slid to the side, neatly using her momentum to flip the creature over him, her blades close enough he could hear them whistle past his ears.
When she crunched into the pavement she coiled bonelessly, reversing her roll to spring. He ducked. Surging upwards, he drove his knife into her shoulder socket. He jerked the blade forward, tearing flesh and tendons. The creature howled as Loki spun around, gripped its other arm and threw it to the ground. Before it could rise again, he slammed his foot into its shoulder and levered its arm backwards until it gave a sudden snap. The crack echoed against the bricks and concrete.
The creature craned its neck to look up a Loki, thick saliva dripping from its chin. It growled something at Loki in its own language. Curse-like harshness laced each syllable.
A vicious knife thrust cut off whatever else it might have said. The knife rose and fell until the creature's face looked like the first attempt of a butcher's apprentice. Glancing up, eyes bright, Loki looked for his next target.
He blinked to see the Avengers looking at him, the battlefield still. Bruce knelt next to the crumpled form, shaking his head. He removed his coat, intending to drape it over the body. Loki stumbled to his feet, absently wiping Chitauri blood from his knife.
The ground seemed to slide forward. Suddenly he was by the body, the Avengers having parted to let him through. Iron stillness weighed him down as he peered at the sprawled form. He'd seen many deaths before—many worse than this. He'd even helped to lower tiny bodies into boats too large and lonely for their final voyage.
Dispassionately he nudged the bloodless corpse, fascinated by how the head lolled with the movement, terror-struck eyes still wide. Knees crunched against the dry weeds and gravel as he sunk next to the body. Ants were already trekking in a dark line up the blood mangled shirt.
It was the ants that broke through the thin ice of his rage. He tore them away. They couldn't have him. This pathetic mortal didn't get to die for him.
The Avengers edged closer, their uncomfortable murmurings edged with concern as Loki's rage grew. He whirled on them with a guttural snarl, lips pulled back over his teeth.
"What's he doing?"
"He's dead, Loki. There is nothing we can do," said Banner.
Thor was oddly quiet as he laid a hand on the doctor's shoulder.
"Thor, what is he doing?"
The green of Loki's eyes had sharpened to razor's edge and his lips moved in mute utterings. Release my magic. Now! Loki lashed out, scrabbling for any scrap of power. No spark answered his call. And though he tore down to his very core, only hollow echoes greeted him.
A whispered chill brought his gaze up to meet the dark eyes reflected in a cracked factory window. She watched him serenely, a disinterested curiosity settled in her features. Black eyes glanced to the boy and then back to Loki. Her head swiveled in a slow, definite shake. No.
Loki's lids slid shut as dangerous serenity edged with euphoria slashed across his face in a grin too sharp to bode well. It was a look that had puzzled many opponents when they thought the God of Mischief had already played his last trick. Green met black for a moment as Loki turned away from her, his last look filled with the promise that She had yet to see that he would not be controlled or predicted. He'd leapt into the void before—he was about to do it again.
He had to work fast. He snatched his discarded knife from the ground and leaned over the boy's still form. The blade in his hands ripped through Book's waxy flesh, barely raising any red in the deep crevices. He carved the runes into the boy's arms, pouring all of his will into each stroke. Will was all he had now. No strength, no magic, no voice—just determination.
He was so focused on the task at hand that he didn't even hear the cries of outrage from the Avengers, or Thor holding them back. They were nothing but haze on the edges of his thoughts. Fabric tore as he peeled back the blood soaked shirt and carved one final rune into the boy's chest.
Loki gritted his teeth. Now came the trial. Now he would see if he could master this ancient art. His lips spasmed as he traced the same marks into his own pale skin. He fumbled the knife awkwardly as he switched to his weaker hand and shakily dug out the final runes on his forearms. Already he could feel a foreign power settling into him, keeping the blood washing red down his arms and dripping from his hands. The knife handle was slick. His arms burned as he fought to draw the final mark on his left breast.
There was no invocation, no rite to be said or spell recited. The power here was simple. Primitive. Loki thought only one thing as he drew the final runes encircling Book's shredded heart: Please.
He threw the knife aside and gripped quickly cooling hands in his as something like power stirred within him. Then he was burning. His life sparked into wild power. It cascaded in a rushing torrent through his veins, frothing through his blood in a stream of fire as it flowed from his wounds down into the marks in Book's flesh.
The steady thrum of his heart shuddered as he struggled against the creeping darkness that wrapped about him. The dry crackling of parchment only reached him distantly as She knelt by Book's head. Loki found the strength to raise his head and give her a look of triumph. He did not find the surprise or disquiet he had expected, merely unblinking acceptance. The drifting sense of vagueness in his mind kept his thoughts from spinning out why this might be.
The power ebbed, the steady stream sloshing weakly within, seeping down into stagnant pools where his true magic ought to have been. What little comfort this primal power brought never registered with Loki as he pitched forward into darkness. As consciousness fled he had the oddest sensation of a dry, slender hand resting almost gently upon his head.
A/N: Sorry this is a touch late, I'm currently doing an internship and the internet where I'm staying is…persnickety. Sometimes it works fine, other times, not so much.
I took a fair amount of creative license with the Chitauri here. I know there is more info about them in the comics, but since we're in the MCU, I only extrapolated from what we saw/know of them in the movies. Thus these lovely critters came into existence.
And to those of you worried about Book's survival…as you can see, that worry was well warranted. It's hard to be one of my characters—sometimes
Also, a huge thanks to all my reviewers. I just love getting to see your thoughts and reactions to everything, really, they make my day. I also want to give a big shout out to all my silent readers. Thank you so much for dropping by and giving this story a chance. And to everyone, if you've got a friend you think would enjoy this little offering of fanfiction, send them over—the more the merrier 😊.