Chapter Three

The next morning at breakfast, it became clear that Captain Rogers had been informed of Klara's situation. Lord Thor continued (despite the obvious resentment of his teammates) to insist that Klara accompany him for meals, and only moments after their arrival, Captain Rogers was asking the prince for a private word in a stern and decidedly neutral tone. He did not look at Klara at all. Klara could not bring herself to blame him. She could not bring herself to blame any of them, not even Clint Barton. Especially Clint Barton. What Loki had done to him was unforgivable, inexcusable, and had left scars too deep to see, but no less painful. She did not blame him in the least for his resentment, though Lord Thor maintained that his behavior was still uncalled for. The truth was, Klara had been called much worse on Asgard.

...traitor's whore...

She took her toast back to her room and remained there until Lord Thor summoned her to his quarters for the noonday meal. Though he did not mention his discussion with Captain Rogers, his expression was pensive, which told Klara far more than his words might have.

When she stood to take her leave of him, Klara asked from well-worn habit, "Is there anything my lord requires?"

He looked at her then, looked at her as she always feared to be looked at, with worry and puzzlement and a fondness that she did not deserve. He looked at her with eyes that saw her, not a mere maidservant.

"Are you happy, Klara?"

The question took her aback and she straightened reflexively, hands clasping behind her, her jaw tightening.

"I am well, my lord."

"That is not what I asked." When she did not reply, the prince sighed and dropped his gaze, passing a hand over his brow. "You need not stay here, you know, if you are unhappy."

She stiffened. Would he send her back to Asgard? Back to the whispers, and the rumor-mongering, and the quiet silence of the dead that lingered in every spare breath of air, in every empty room, in every darkened dungeon? Back to Elli?

You were born to be loved...

Some of her panic must have shown in her eyes because Lord Thor rose in alarm and came to her, his large hands grasping her shoulders as if he feared she might fall.

"Of course, you needn't go to Jane if you don't wish it," he said, "Though I am sure she would be glad to have you, you need do nothing that you do not wish, Klara."

Jane. Jane Foster. The name alone relaxed Klara's trembling stiffness and she let out a shaky breath. Jane and her team of Midgardian scientists had remained in London, still studying the effects of the Convergence on the mortal plane. She gathered that it was exciting work, from the way the girl's eyes lit up and the rapidity of her incomprehensible speech when she was discussing it. But Klara had very little idea of what the work actually entailed. She would be useless to them.

She did miss Darcy Lewis, though. One could not help missing Darcy, with her sunny smile and strange way of taking everything in humorous stride. Darcy Lewis had never looked at her and seen a traitor. Darcy Lewis had once saved her life.

She pushed aside these thoughts and met Lord Thor's eyes with perfect sincerity.

"I am bound to your service, my lord," she said, "As I was bound to your mother. I assure you, I am quite content to remain by your side until you should send me away."

Mention of Lady Frigga brought a shadow of grief to his expression, but he quickly replaced it with a smile and squeezed her shoulders.

"Very well," he said, "If that is what you wish, I would not send you from me. I only want you to know that you are not so bound that I am not concerned for your well-being. I would see you happy, Klara, if I can."

Klara managed to return his smile, trying to convey that, as far as it was within his power, she was indeed happy.

That night, Klara did not leave her room. She hid away from the watching stars and wept.

Bruce came to bed late again, but Alice was still awake and she turned to meet him as he slid into bed beside her.

"I'm worried," she said, without preamble.

Bruce sighed and slid further under the covers, pillowing his head on his arm and meeting her eyes in the dark.

"About what?" he asked, with unfeigned interest and no sign that he was tired at all. It was so endearing that Alice could not help but lean forward and kiss him. It lingered pleasantly for a little longer than she had meant it to before she pulled back and settled on her side again, mirroring his posture.

"What do you think Steve's gonna do about Klara?" she asked.

Bruce shrugged his bare shoulder. "Probably nothing. What do you think he should do?"

Alice shrugged back, but she bit her lip unhappily. "I don't like how everyone's treating her. I mean, I get it, I guess. Especially Clint. But..."

She trailed off, trying to put her thoughts together.

"We shouldn't be defined by our pasts," she said finally, "Any of us. I just keep thinking, if someone would give her a chance...I mean, nobody's perfect, right?"

Bruce huffed a laugh and pulled her close.

"Yeah," he said, "Nobody's perfect. I guess that explains why you like her so much. You both have the same fatal flaw."

"Falling for powerful, devilishly handsome men?" Alice asked, smirking.

"You think Loki was handsome?"

She punched him playfully in the shoulder and he laughed again, she could feel it vibrating through his chest.

"I do like her," Alice said, almost apologetically, "Or at least, I don't want her to be miserable. I definitely don't want to think that people I like are the ones making her miserable. There's gotta be something someone can do."

Bruce sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

"Sometimes there's nothing to do but wait," he said, "And hope for the best." Alice frowned at that and Bruce smiled. "I know you're not good at waiting."

"Or hoping for the best," Alice agreed, biting her lip again.

Bruce pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"It'll all work out, Alice," he whispered, "One way or another. Just be patient, and you'll see."

Alice didn't argue with him. But she was still awake when Bruce's breathing had slowed and deepened, the cold metal of her parents' rings sliding across her skin as she turned them around and around her wrist.

"Movie night?"

Klara regarded Miss Ripley with undisguised admiration as she merely smiled at Tony Stark's incredulous outburst. The girl was hugging a box wrapped in colorful paper, with big block letters across the front proclaiming "MOVIE NIGHT SUGGESTION BOX" in black ink. The dining area was at full complement this morning, everyone present and eyeing the box with varying degrees of skepticism. Dr. Banner alone looked unsurprised, sipping his coffee with a playful fondness that made him seem years younger. It looked well on him.

"Yes," Miss Ripley confirmed, "Movie night!"

Tony Stark rolled his eyes, not with unkindness, but more as a matter of principle, as if it were his job, as her friend, to inform her that she was making a terrible mistake. Alice Ripley ignored him.

"The idea is for everyone who has a suggestion to toss it into the box, and every couple of weeks we'll pull one out and watch it together. No porn, Tony, don't be an asshole."

Captain Rogers snorted into his coffee and Mister Stark dropped his upraised hand with a faux-expression of dejection. Klara glanced at Lord Thor. He smiled at her around a mouthful of breakfast pastry (what the Midgardians called a "Pop-Tart") and she managed a tentative smile in return.

"It'll be fun!" Miss Ripley continued, undeterred, "It'll give everyone a chance to relax, hang out, get to know each other. You can learn a lot about a person from the movies they like. Steve, I know you've got a list, maybe we can check some of those off."

Klara deliberately did not look at Captain Rogers as Miss Ripley addressed him, staring into her mug of tea instead.

"What if we can't make it to movie night?"

Klara had to work hard not to wince at the undercurrent of hostility in Clint Barton's voice.

"Well, I..."

For the first time, Miss Ripley faltered, and Klara glanced up. The girl's enthusiasm appeared to be losing momentum in the face of this open hostility. Color rose to her cheeks and she dropped her gaze uncertainly to the box in her hands. "I mean, it's not required, I just thought... You know, things have been so-"

"I think it's a great idea."

Klara could not help but glance at Captain Rogers then, feeling a swell of gratitude on Miss Ripley's behalf that was clearly reflected in the girl's surprised but grateful expression.

"Team building exercises are good for morale," he said, looking pointedly around the room, "And I think we can all agree that morale hasn't exactly been at its highest."

Everyone's gaze fell, so it wasn't obvious when Klara's eyes dropped back to her mug as well. The Avengers had been charged with finding a scepter, the weapon that had been used to lead the Chitauri in their deadly assault against Midgard. The scepter Loki had wielded.

That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect...

Klara shut her eyes and gripped her mug a little tighter.

"We can use the rec room on Level 28," Mr. Stark said, breaking the uncomfortable silence, "Go big or go home, am I right? Who doesn't love surround sound? I'll bring popcorn!"

Klara took a breath and opened her eyes in time to catch the relieved smile Miss Ripley tossed Dr. Banner. His expression of profound admiration made Klara's broken heart ache in her chest.

Clint Barton hopped from his perch on the back of the couch with surprising agility and headed for the elevator without speaking a word. Miss Romanov followed, slipping through the metal doors before he could stop her. Klara felt keenly aware of the fact that she could not make her own exit now, not with the elevator thus occupied. She looked down at her tea. It had gone cold.

A hand touched her shoulder. Lord Thor was smiling sympathetically at her. She gave him a smile of her own and took his empty coffee mug, turning to the shining sink piled up with dishes from the morning meal. She poured her own tea reluctantly down the drain and pushed up the sleeves of her tunic, starting the hot water and reaching for the bottle of dish soap.

"You know there's a dishwasher for that, right?"

Miss Ripley seemed to appear at her elbow out of nowhere, and Klara felt a knot she hadn't even realized was hiding her in chest loosen at the girl's kind smile. She braced herself against the emotion threatening to come up her throat and nodded, not even sparing a glance for the mentioned appliance.

"I am aware," she said, stoppering up one side of the sink and applying a drop of soap to the water, "I simply...I choose not to tempt fate in such matters."

Electricity did not work in the same way as magic, but it performed many of the same functions that magic had on Asgard. Klara found that she was hesitant to use any devices that utilized the power for fear that her unique flaw might assert itself at an inconvenient, or even dangerous, time. She had yet to attempt using the elevator with anyone but Lord Thor in the compartment with her.

"I hardly think using a kitchen appliance is tempting fate," Miss Ripley said, though she did not attempt to stop her, and even grabbed a dishtowel to begin the process of drying the flatware being placed in the rinse water, "I thought you Asgardians were advanced, anyway. You're scared of a dishwasher?"

Klara felt the corner of her mouth twitch up, but she suppressed the smile.

"Not afraid," she corrected gently, "We...used something very different in the palace, and it did not agree with me."

"Magic?"

Klara nodded. "Yes."

"That's gotta be so cool."

"I wouldn't know." Klara realized a second after she'd spoken that the words had come out rather more harshly than she'd intended. She dropped her head to hide her expression. "My apologies."

But Miss Ripley was already shaking her head, her pleasant demeanor not altered in the least.

"Nope, totally my fault," she said, drying a handful of cutlery and setting it aside, "I guess it would be pretty shitty, not being able to use something as common as electricity. Especially when you're surrounded by it. I mean, when I was in Queensland, it wasn't uncommon for the power to go out for days, so we didn't rely on anything that depended on it. Even in Kolkata, there were plenty of things I went without and didn't bat an eyelash. Now? I would probably die if there was a coffee maker on the counter and I couldn't use it."

Klara caught herself staring. This girl had barely lived twenty Midgardian years, and yet she had traveled the width and breadth of her realm with no hesitation and grown as much or more than many Asgardian nobles Klara had known with centuries more experience. Even Klara had been alive long before Alice Ripley's ancestors had walked the earth. How could such wisdom come from the mouth of one so young?

Dr. Banner stepped up beside the girl and leaned in to press his lips to her temple. Klara looked away and made herself busy draining the sink.

"I'm headed down to the lab," he said, "Love you."

"Love you too," Miss Ripley replied casually, but when Klara dared a glance up, she could see the glow of her smile, almost too bright to look at.

"See you, Klara."

Klara blinked, and it took a moment for her to regain her composure enough to even nod in acknowledgment of the casual farewell. Dr. Banner had spoken less than ten words to her in the time she had been in the Tower. She had honestly counted him among those who were none too pleased by her presence, despite Miss Ripley's pleasantries. Now she wondered if perhaps it was simply that the doctor didn't speak unless he had something to say. The idea was encouraging, and Klara felt her esteem for him rise in relation to it.

Miss Ripley's eyes followed him as he and Mr. Stark made their way toward the elevator, the more boisterous man speaking with animated enthusiasm about some theory he wished to put into practice as the quiet doctor listened patiently with his hands in his pockets. Klara smiled at the younger girl and turned back to wiping down the sink.

"He seems a kind man, your Dr. Banner," she said, thinking only a moment after she'd said it, that perhaps it was too forward.

But Miss Ripley only grinned more broadly as she finished arranging the last of the flatware into the drying rack.

"Yeah, he does alright, when he thinks about it," she said, wiping her hands on the dishtowel and handing it to Klara, "Sometimes he gets lost in his own world and forgets other people exist though. You gotta learn not to take it personally. It's a coping mechanism more than anything, helps him think and not get...frustrated."

Her sunny demeanor faltered for the briefest moment, but then lit up again as a new thought caught her attention.

"Hey, has anyone given you the grand tour?"

Klara wiped her hands and laid the dishtowel neatly on the bar to dry.

"I was given an overview of the Tower layout when I arrived, yes."

"No, I mean has anyone actually shown you around?" she asked, eyes shining now, "You miss all the good bits if you just look at this place on a map. Like laser tag on Level 31. And Level 34 is literally a giant water park. There are actual slides. Come on, I'll show you!"

In her enthusiasm, the girl took Klara by the arm and began to actually drag her toward the elevator doors. Klara tried to resist, but Miss Ripley was much stronger than she appeared and there was little she could do without digging her heels into the carpet.

"Miss Ripley, I'm not sure-"

"Alice."

Klara blinked. The girl turned that brilliant smile back on her.

"Call me Alice," she repeated, bouncing on her toes as they waited for the elevator.

Klara was so unexpectedly touched by this show of genuine companionship that she no longer had it in her to protest when the elevator doors slid open and Miss...and Alice pulled her inside.

Something was definitely wrong with her.

Alice had settled into one of the Tower's empty offices for the afternoon, allegedly to study for a test she had coming up in her nursing course. There was plenty of space. Very little Stark business actually happened in the Tower anymore, and Maria didn't seem to mind. As long as everyone stayed out of Maria Hill's way, things went pretty smoothly on the lower levels of Avengers Tower. Babysitter she was not, but Alice didn't need to be babysat and Maria liked that about her, said it showed 'initiative', whatever that meant. Alice just smiled, and nodded, and took the office when it was offered, because sometimes she needed the space to be alone and concentrate.

But Alice had been staring at the same page for fifteen minutes now and hadn't taken in a single word she'd read. The movie night idea had been strange enough, so far out of her comfort zone that even Bruce had looked askance when she'd suggested it, before switching to an enthusiastic encouragement that had made it nearly impossible for Alice to back out. It was a big step, a step that Alice wasn't entirely sure she was ready to take. And now all she could think about was the conversation she'd had with Klara that morning, doing dishes of all things.

Back in Queensland...

Hell. It had been innocuous enough. She hadn't even come close to any of the important stuff. The problem was, she had never talked about Australia with anyone but Bruce. Ever. The memory of that place, the loss of her innocent assumptions that anyone could ever understand her, it was just too painful. She didn't even like to think about it too hard. Which was exactly what she was doing.

She heard a dull metallic sound and realized she was tapping her pen against the inside of her wrist, against her parents' wedding rings. She dropped the pen and sat back, twisting the leather straps so that the gold of the bands gleamed in the sunlight from the office window. Some tiny part of her brain was sending out blaring alarm signals: Too close, you're getting too close, pull back...

Thing was, they were right. She was getting too close, not just to Klara, but to everyone in the Tower. She had promised that she would never get close to anyone again. She had broken that promise two years ago, but Bruce was different. He understood her, in a strange way. And she knew he would be alright if-when something happened to her. The inevitability of her death still shadowed her, but Bruce's strength had made the shadow bearable, had lightened the burden of it.

But it was too dangerous to bring in someone else, to allow any others into the circle of reef that sheltered the island of her life. Especially not Klara, who had already lived through so much loss and heartbreak. Alice still remembered with vivid clarity the pain and misery she had felt when her family was ripped senselessly away. She recognized that pain in Klara: how she set herself apart, the way her expression sometimes slid away and her eyes glazed over, the lack of objection to the way the others treated her. Alice had spent most of her life trying to make sure no one else hurt that way, not because of her at least. It was hard to live in such close proximity to that pain, and do nothing.

Be patient, Bruce said, It'll all work out.

He was probably right. After all, Klara had Thor, right? He seemed to care about her well-being, and he had defended her readily enough. But it would take more than Thor's bellowing to make Clint, Tony, or Nat see reason, especially when it came to Loki. It would take...well, Alice didn't know what it would take.

This isn't your fight, the alarms in her brain warned, You made a promise.

Right. Don't get involved. And she wasn't, not really. Not yet. She would finish showing Klara the Tower's lower floors (they'd only made it through the top half before lunch), and then that would be that.

And she might have mentioned something about shopping for bathing suits. For the water park. Never mind that it was October, and swimsuits were going to be in short supply. This was New York. They could probably find something. And, of course, she should probably show her some of the city highlights. After all, someone had to show her around. Right?

...shit.

She packed up her books and went to find Bruce. She needed someone to get her back on track, or she was gonna fail this test.