Resurrection is slow and painful. Well, my resurrection was slow and painful and then there was the added humility of being controlled by Skull. But the worst bit, the very worst bit, was when I was back and I asked for Etana. And the looks between the Avengers before finally, slowly, Bucky spoke.
"She disappeared. A month after your… you know…" The word 'assassination' isn't mentioned at all, "Just dropped off the radar. No one knows where she went."
No one? Yeah right. I know exactly who to go to.
"You are in big trouble Steve. You've managed to give Tora a killer headache."
"How?"
"Dying, coming back, dying, coming back. Her exact remark involved a yoyo analogy."
"She called me a yoyo?"
"In a polite manner of speaking, yes."
Tora slaps me when I turn up. Then hugs me, so I don't think I'm in too much trouble. But a hand weighted with adamantium hurts, especially when the woman behind it is really, really angry with you.
"You big lug. You stupid, beautiful idiot."
"Etana? Where's Etana?"
"Oh… Steve… There's been…complications…"
I stiffen. I know what Logan has told me, no more. How she lost her grip, slipped into a deep sea of grief and wouldn't let anybody help her out. Images of a broken woman, Etana changed beyond recognition, suicide attempts, self-harm, in care. Tora must see the fear in my eyes.
"Best you come and see her. I'm due a visit."
"You know where she is?"
"I'm her only contact with the outside world. Like I said, complications arose."
So I sit through the flight northwards, wondering what the hell these 'complications' are. We touch down and Tora hands me a pile of bags.
"Just go in and stick them on the counter."
"What?"
"She'll be in the kitchen. She always is on delivery day."
I nod and pick up the various bags. Tora leans up against the smooth metal of the plane and jerks her head towards the door.
"Aren't you coming in with me?"
She shakes her head.
"I'm not going to be there. Not unless she attempts to castrate you."
"Will she?"
"Maybe. I don't know. But you're in big trouble, no matter what."
I smile nervously and she doesn't smile back before I step into the kitchen. The whole place looks like it's out of an old medieval story. Huge fire, stone flags, large solid oak table, covered in various books, foods and sheaves of paper. I hover, uncertain, staring at her.
She's standing with her back to me, wearing a rough white dress that looks like it's been her private comfort clothes for a while, leaning over a counter.
"Put the bags on the table Tora. Coffee's almost ready."
I walk in slowly, staring at her the entire time, before carefully putting the assorted containers on the table, over a blackened ring. Someone slammed a hot pan down at some point. Wonder who. Tana's not the kind to make a mistake like that.
"Just a sec. Ready!"
She turns around and the mugs slip from her hands, shattering on the stone flags.
"I'll get it."
I lean over and scoop up the various shards and stand up. Etana is staring at me, her eyes wide and lost. There's something different about her, something in her build that I can't quite place. And a fist flies towards me. It hovers in front of my face and then she breaks down, slumping forward onto my chest, pummelling me as she cries.
"I hate you! I honestly hate you! Why do you have to be alive!? Why?! I hate you, I hate you, I HATE YOU!"
"It's okay Tan. It's okay…"
I gently stroke her hair as she cries and hits my chest with her hands.
"You had to leave me, all over again… I hate you!"
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
She snuffles onto my chest.
"Why couldn't you just stay dead?"
"I can go if you want."
She suddenly hugs me back.
"You're not leaving. Not now, not ever."
"Er… You know the others will wonder where I've gone."
"Stuff them. Steve… I… I need… Ineedtotellyousomething."
"What?"
"I need to tell you something. Or show you at any rate."
About seven-hundred scenarios rush through my head in under a second. Etana gently takes my hand and pulls me into a long corridor.
"Try and be quiet."
"Why?"
"You'll see."
She reaches an unmarked door and pushes it open. And stands back to allow me entry into a warm, light, spacious room, decorated in pastel colours. I turn to look at her and see something in the corner of the room that stops my heart. Slowly, oh so slowly, I walk forward until I'm right over it.
Curled up, cat-like, under a white blanket, is a baby.
