Hi everyone.
Today we see the aftermath of what happened before. Will Skye go see Ward? How will he be, physically and emotionally? Everybody is now drowning in that complete mess I created, and you know what? That's something I like!
No torturing you much longer.
Enjoy.
Beep.
Pain.
Beep.
Pain.
Beep.
Hot white knives carving his back.
Beep.
Scars of fire down his skin.
Beep.
The feeling of violated expense of skin. The feeling of wounds.
Don't you dare die on me, Ward.
Skye's face. Skye's touch. Skye's voice. Was this heaven? Was he dead? No, he remembered now. The sword cutting him deep. At least she wasn't dead. He tried to move, and the pain caused by the tensing of his muscles was almost too much to bear. He had never felt that bad before, never been in a suffering that intense.
Suddenly, the pain eased. He felt numb now, it was strange and he finally decided to open his eyes.
It was clear, blinding. The beeps bugging him since he had gain back consciousness were due to the electrocardiograph. He was in an hospital, or a med bay. So he wasn't dead. Or the Man Upstairs had a pretty funny idea of Heaven.
"Here you go…"
That was Simmons' voice. Why was she taking care of him? She was humming a little, not caring whether or not he was awake. He felt something moving on his back, and the bandage lifting. He bit down on his lip not to scream. He only succeeded in tasting his blood, and changing the scream into a moan.
What she put on his wounds was cool. Liquid and cool. And it burnt.
"Will you shut up, one minute?"
Her voice was annoyed and commanding, he was surprised. Something had changed in the sweet Simmons he knew before. She was rougher, darker. Or maybe was it just with him. He tried as much as he could to relax. Pain again.
The bandage was replaced. The pain was soothed a little now. It was not great but it was better than earlier. He was lying on his front on a med table. The beeping was still here. He had barely registered the peak in frequency when she took 'care' of him.
How was Skye? And Torunn? He wondered about them. Thinking about it, it was strange to get so attached with somebody in such a little time. He fell back to sleep at that moment.
"Let me see him! Simmons, please!"
It was her. She was shouting and begging and there was something in her voice… As if she was crying. He wanted to get up, and run to her, and hold her tight, forget the world around of them. But every single tensing of one muscle brought the pain back, stronger than any painkillers.
"Simmons!"
He agreed wholeheartedly with her. Simmons had to let her come. His eyes shot open and he caught a glimpse of her face. She was still beautiful with the tears and the lack of rest. She was always beautiful.
How much time had he slept? How much since the 'capture'? What had happened? And still the pain holding him back. He was supposed to be stronger than this for God's sake! He was supposed to be a specialist cut from kevlar, cold and detached, and staying the same, able of shooting anything and killing anyone. He was supposed to compartmentalize everything, to be able to put the pain in a corner of his brain and forget it. And now he was nailed to the bed because his back hurt to much for words.
He hated it. He hated everything. Simmons' aggressive words when she pushed Skye away from the doors. Hella's sword, cutting down his flesh so often. The guards at the Fridge and their fists on him. Garrett, and the Hydra agents, making him 'tougher' or 'better'. Garrett again, before everything, leaving him alone in the wild. Christian and the hits too. Everybody. He hated everybody.
The sadness, and love and pain was mixing up into a dangerous pit of anger and hate and he couldn't help but clench his fist and his teeth. He couldn't help but tense and feel the pain washing away everything again. He couldn't keep one string of thoughts for God's sake!
"Simmons, for the last time…"
"It's Coulson's orders!"
Silence. The only thing breaking it was the beeping of the device. She was holding back tears and he was almost breathless. Coulson didn't want them to see each other. Coulson hated him. He knew that already. Of course he did. But why saving him then?
The door slammed. Skye was gone. He heard the footsteps of Simmons coming back toward him.
"What a mess for you, Ward... This dead agent... Skye making a tantrum... You just couldn't stay forgotten in a corner, right ?"
He guessed he couldn't. The words hurt deeper than he wanted them too. It was strange now. As if all his training had gone away after those periods of inactivity and unconsciousness. He was letting in everything, every emotion he usually repressed back in a corner of his brain. Maybe was it the excruciating pain. Maybe was it the happiness of seeing Skye again, and the pain of having her away from him afterwards… Everything was blurred and painful. And without warning, everything went black again.
Torunn's motions were controlled. She had tested the limits of the bracelet too many times but now she knew what she could do without getting electrocuted. It was not much but it was sufficient to keep her muscles in shape. She hadn't trained properly in a long time though, and she missed it. But she was grateful to be a prisoner here.
It allowed way more freedom than many prisons of species supposedly superior. She winced at the uncomfortable memory of being held upside down by her feet one time. It had been a short stay, only a few days, but she remembered having rock-hard abs after that; her only hobby being trying to touch her feet with her hands, then her legs with her chin.
Actually these days, she could basically only do basic muscular work-out, and almost not use her sword. She didn't really like it. But the time she spent with Leo worthed it all a hundred times.
At the two-hundredth push-up, she stopped and get back on her feet. Her hands moved slowly up, touching each other. She stretched her whole body upwards. Her joints protested.
"What are you doing?"
That was not the voice of her joints. That was the voice of her father. She sighed. This meant hurtful comments, and trouble. She turned to the door to see him. He was standing up the few steps leading to the cell's door.
"Training, Father. Well, at least trying."
"You're a prisoner. You shouldn't even be able to move freely."
"I know. But they do as they want with me, right? I'm their prisoner."
She changed her position and looked at him.
"Are you here for something else than scolding me?"
"Watch your tone."
"Don't act like you care about what I do or say."
Her tone, the one he wanted her to change, was cold and sarcastic.
"You spent too much time with the psychotic daughter of Loki."
"If you had been there for me, I wouldn't have."
"Over, child! I shall not be spoken to like an ape!"
She chuckled. She didn't even look at him. It was like he was there but she pushed him away. He was there, he was talking to her, but she was blocking the words from hurting her. He walked closer to her and, before she saw it, he picked up her sword which was lying on the floor. Her eyes widened and she rushed forward, but he had it already in his hand.
"Give her back."
"So your blade is a 'she'? A warrior's weapon is strong. A woman's not."
"For you, a warrior can't be a woman. The idea that women are weaker than men is a total myth. I thought you had seen enough great warriors on a battlefield. Female warriors carrying swords and killing as much and as bravely as men. You fell, even if shortly, for the one of us Ӕsir whose domain is war."
"Sif…"
"Yes. My mother. And who taught me how to fight? None other that one of the best swordsmen. A woman. Your own mother. Queen Frigga. Don't dare tell me that I shall not name my sword a 'she', when I come from such a lineage of astounding female warriors."
She simply held up her hand, looking at him right in the eyes. She had his blue orbs, his daring look, but the fire burning deep within her was different from his. Everybody could see he was kin to her. There was a touch of him in each of her features, her blonde hair_ though darker than his_, their eyes, the way they were standing, walking, fighting.
But she had grown despising him for the weak, oblivious, ashamed man he was. That was why she was not fond of him waltzing back in her life and giving her lessons. She was daring him. She was challenging him to fight with her if he wanted to test the value of a woman in combat. Him the master of the fire in the sky, when she was chained to Earth by the fire of Midgard, the electricity. Would she defeat him?
"Give her back."
It was going to end badly. He knew it. He knew it. Thor had taken her sword, and that wasn't going to end well for him if he didn't hand it right back. Like very badly.
He stood up from his observation point behind the monitors in the lab and walked to te door. He had to stop it now before it became uncontrollable. He knew what kind of rage stood in her heart. He knew it. He had it. He had to go there and make things all right.
"Don't go, smart man."
Sif was standing near the door. She had surely seen what was going on down there, she was so specific about it. Why shouldn't he go? He felt like he had to protect that girl from the rage and the wrath caused by her father.
"This is not your fight."
"Not yours either."
She had a bitter smile. He realized how much her daughter could look like her now. The same sad upturn of lips, the way they would frown at things.
"Let me tell you a story."
It wasn't a question. They walked back to the lab and he sat near the monitors, looking at the scene. They hadn't started to fight yet. They were oddly calm. She took a deep breath.
"This tale we learned from our parents. But I guess both Thor and I should have listened with more care."
He looked up at her. She was going to tell him tales of Asgard, a legend of the Gods. He knew some of them already from the girl facing her father in a vault.
"Then I should listen to you. And not repeat your mistake."
She nodded, eyes brighter, almost proudly.
"Fenrir was a wolf from the darkest forest of Asgard. He grew so rapidly and in such gigantic proportion that the gods feared it. The gods pretend to play game of binding the wolf, to see if it could free itself. Fenrir agreed to play the game if someone would place his or her hand in Fenrir's giant mouth. Only the war-god Tyr was fearless enough to place his hand in its mouth.
The gods found nothing could bind the wolf, until they received a magical silk ribbon called Gleipnir, created by dwarfs. This ribbon was made of noise of a cat, beard of woman, breath of a fish and spittle of a bird. When Fenrir could not escape, he realised he was tricked by the gods, when they refused to release him. In revenge, Fenrir bit off Tyr's hand. Thereafter, Tyr was known as the One-handed God."
That was how they had done it. Tricking the beast into a trap. And the beast was now escaping and turning back on them. She paused and continued, the echo with her own situation, or actually the one of the God of Thunder, was evident.
"When Ragnarök arrived, Fenrir broke free from his fetter, and joined the other giants and monsters in a war against the gods. Fenrir fought against Odin, until the wolf killed and devoured Odin. Vidar avenged his father's death, by ripping Fenrir's jaw apart with his bare hands."
It had started and ended with the never-ending cruelty of the Gods and the men. It was always that way. A beast could be restrained but, men should beware the fate upon them when it came free. Both Thor and Sif had blocked their daughter away for hundreds of years. Now she was coming free of bonds and it was turning against them.
"She blames more Thor than you, Sif. When she told me, she was angry at him. She said you were still there, and it was not your fault if her father is a jerk."
Sif smiled. She looked also like her daughter at this moment. Both were meant for the battlefield. What nobody seemed to realize about Torunn, was that she was every bit the woman her mother was, and every bit the warrior she was. She was not a child. She was a goddess, it was written in her blood, her body and her mind. She was a warrior, it was written in her blood, in her body and in her mind. But she was a goddess, and it was written in her smiles and her battle screams.
So?
What did you think?
I can't wait to know what you thought of that little chapter!
Don't hesitate to give me feedback!
Until next time,
The Queen of Heart