Mischeifandlies

Hildr, to both your surprises, made a very passable looking cup and a handle for it that didn’t immediately fall off. And so, with one clay-covered Aestrid, you all set off for lunch.

Taking your seats in the back of the hall, you picked your way through the food, deciding on just a mini charcuterie, while the other two had a lion's share of curry and rice.

“Thought you were veggie?” Aestrid says, picking a little of the cured meat off your plate.

You chuckled and smacked her hand away as she reached for a second helping. “Hey. It’s not… I’m allowed. This is beef, and it’s the week for it.”

Both of them exchange a look, before trucking into their own curries. “Right… because that makes complete sense.” Hildr says, dipping naan into her sauce.

Yeah, you realise how that sounded. You just shrugged, lathering a little bread with butter. “I’m due a period. I can eat meat. It’s healthy.”

“I dunno babes, that’s a lot of cheese you got there…” The conversation twists and turns this way and that. You’re still there, occasionally chipping in, sometimes quieter- though there was something you needed to ask. And you were still in two minds about asking it, because you knew it would only cause chaos, and it would whip you more into a frenzy, when you were already exhausted- “Aestrid?”

She’s got spicy tomato sauce all over her chin when she looks at you. “Yeah?”

You’d have thought what with finishing school and prep and etiquette classes she’d have a bit more finesse, a bit more grace, but no matter you supposed. “You remember before, you were saying, about Laurie, and how she said… she said she was a ghost…”

“Did you see it?!” This was what you thought would happen. She looks like she’s just discovered a hoard of treasure. “Please tell me you saw it. Please, if you did that would be amazing, it would be so cool to see an actual ghost-”

“No.” A blatant lie, but you only hoped she wouldn’t be able to see it on your face- you were always terrible at lying. Your ama used to say your face was made of glass, the way you could see through it. “No. Just… something that Hifson made reference to earlier. Just in passing, he said something about being haunted…”

“Oh.” She slumps back in her chair, wiping the sauce off her face with a little tissue, thoroughly disheartened. “Well… she said she saw it one night, on the top floor of Loudlam, when they snuck up there to see if they could find out why it was making so much noise. They heard something- some movement on the far side- but when they went round there, all they saw was a waft of green and it vanished.”

“A ‘waft of green’?” Hildr scoffed into her lunch. “What the fuck is a waft of green?”

“That’s what she said, I dunno…”

Slowly picking at your crackers and cheese, you let her rambling play out in the background as you ponder over her words. A waft of green. Well, the figure you saw was certainly green, and had certainly vanished in an instant. But ghosts weren’t real. They weren’t real. You knew it, she knew it, everyone knew it. The dead did not live on this realm. They were not to be trifled with either, going on about bloody ghost stories, this was all wrong. But you could still see those eyes. In the back of your mind, you could still see those beautiful eyes, almost glowing against the darkness behind him. How far apart were the buildings? Twenty, maybe thirty metres? Could it have been a mere trick of the light? Something your overtired mind clung to when you couldn’t think straight and were already wrapped up in your own imagination…

“Y/n… earth to y/n… look behind you…” Aestrid wriggled her eyebrows at you, looking pointedly at the table behind. You turned around- and there were the boys from before, as well as the strapping prince Thor. Each boy (man, by the size of them) had a plate full to the brim of whatever random meat they were serving at the buffet, all laughing and joking and shoving each other boisterously.

“So?”

“Don’t you think he looks fit?” She says, resting her elbow on the table to prop her head up, the heart eyes couldn’t be more obvious.

“No.”

“No.” Hildr said, swiping at Aestrid’s arm and jolting her head from it’s perch, which earnt her a light slap from her assaultee.

“Oh, lighten up you two! Asa agrees with me he’s fit. And Laurie said if you go to the training grounds, all the boys have to do sparring practice and you can just sit up there and watch them get all sweaty and delicious…” She’s practically salivating now. You just grimaced at the thought, while Hildr rolled her eyes. “He’s supposed to be one of the best in the school. Fighters, I mean. Laurie said he won a tournament a few months back against some of the best trained fighters in Asgard-”

“Obviously he won Aestrid.” Hildr tuts and pushes her empty bowl back, looking over at the boys with absolute nonchalance. “He has to win. He’s the future king of Asgard, it wouldn’t do any good to have him come butt-fuck last would it? Prolly rigged it.”

“He did not rig it! Come on, we can go watch next week, they’re having a competition next Tuesday. It'll be fun! Y/n’s coming.”

You were fucking well not coming ten seconds ago. “I am not coming.”

“Yeah she is.” Aestrid overruled you with a grin, taking Hildr’s hand, like some sort of supplicant. “And Asa. And Helga can come too, we won’t even be seen or anything. Pleeeease…?”

Hildr looks at you, and then look at Aestrid, and you can see in her face she’s not fond of the idea- but unfortunately for you, she gives. “Fine. You owe me.”

“Obviously.” Aestrid grins, collecting the plates for you all, a sudden spring in her step. Was this really what it’s come to? You and a group of teenage girls, hiding in the sports grounds, watching the fifth years play with swords? This was the last thing you’d expected boarding school to be. “I’ll go find Laurie, she’ll know what to do.”

After lunch, all three of you decided to spend an afternoon ‘revising’ (nee gossiping) in the library, picking the week apart and going over old territory with how different things were and how horrible their tests had been. It wasn’t until you got back to your dorm room that an excited Asa ran up to you all, grabbing you and Helga by the arm. “Come on! Post came. Y/n, you have a fat stack of letters…”

Letters? You had post? Oh, Norns be, you’d been wondering all week when the post came. All three of you scampered up the stairs, where Tora and Helga were laying on their beds, exchanging stories with each other and giggling away. Aestrid leaps onto her bunk, tearing open her own envelope, while Hildr simply flops down on top of hers. She chuckles, watching Aestrid pull the packaging apart like a man possessed. “Slow down A, what’s it say?”

“Nothing much-” she scans the letter, legs crossed, setting the francs and sweets they sent to the side, her eyes scanning the letter. “My little sister got an award at school, and the dog rolled in fox shit. Nothing interesting.”

“Fair enough.” Hildr replies, her eyes turning to you, who had clambered up onto your bunk. “Y/n?”

“Huh?” Shit. You’d zoned them all out in the excitement, and now every eye in the room was staring at you.

“Why you got so much post girl? Looks like a bloody novella they wrote you…”

“Wait, lemme see-” Aestrid pokes her head up, looking at your stack of letters, all tied together in one long ribbon. “Norns be. You might as well have sent it in a scroll.”

Chuckling, you slowly opened the envelope, careful not to disturb any of the contents inside, and reached for a textbook, tipping the letter out over it, so that the herbs in the envelope didn’t scatter all over your bed. “It’ll be my opki. He’s the most literate, so he writes for the lot.”

“Ooh, that smells lavender-y. And opki is…?” Tora asks.

“My grandfather.” Slowly you untie the knots around the letters and unfold the top one, marked with his beautiful caligraphy. He’s even stamped it at the back, and you break the wax with your thumb, trying not to disturb the seal as you unfold it’s contents.

“My dearest y/n,

I hope you’re settling in well sweetpea- your ama finally stopped fretting a couple of days ago, though I still see her eyes flit towards the door occasionally, she’s mostly back to normal now. I know it’s a sign of the times not to be having you tailing around after me along the beach to chat to, it just means you’re getting older and more wise and don’t need any help from your opki anymore. You’re growing up into a smart young lady now, can’t have me badgering away at you forever… speaking of tailing after things, the poor dog doesn’t know what to do with herself now that you’ve gone and she can’t leech off your bodyheat at night. To be fair, Rocco is suffering the same affliction, now his favourite cousin (his words, not mine) has gone off to boarding school. He was quite happy to bathe in your second hand glory boasting about it to all his other friends at nursery though, and your Laksi has had to have a word with him about not bragging so much on your behalf, because he’s convinced the other toddlers their siblings could never attain your genius.

We all miss you lots sweetpea, but we’re so happy for you. I hope you’re getting on okay, and that the food isn’t as abysmal as it was at your old school. Ama told me to say she hopes your doing okay, and -and I had to write the next bit under duress mind- that you should rest on your mooncycle when it comes and not let the Aesir drag you into work (I did try explaining how it works there, but she didn’t want to know). Your apda on the other hand also says no kissing anyone and no cracking out the ringda dances at parties, and Kimmi says she’s stealing your blankets for the foreseeable.

As for me- I don’t have any advice for you. I know how hard you work, how amazing you are. Ever since you were little, you’ve always been so bright and resilient and capable, and it doesn’t change even when you’re so far from home. You’ll be just fine angel, you are much stronger than I think any of them give you credit for. Just remember, doesn’t matter how far away you are, you’ve always got us cheering you on from home, and we will be right here waiting for when you come home. I love you lots. Write to us soon, I want to hear about all the trouble you’ve gotten into.

Norns be good, All my love, Opki xx

PS: Rocco, Lih and Sami all drew you some pictures. I think Rusty may have helped “decorate” too.

Smiling down, you read and re-read the whole thing, your heart beating with joy for your opki’s words. Okay, it sucked to be missed and to know you were missed by your cousins, but you felt that little warm glow of home in his words. Your heart melted for clingy wee Rocco, the boy was toddling along beside you most days, attached at the hip for whatever reason. And Rusty… you didn’t think you’d miss that stinky mud-coated hound for anything, but now, you could envision her bouncing up to you as you walked in the door, tongue lulling out, ears all floppy, big eyes staring up adoringly. But that last bit… it filled you with just a little more confidence. Maybe he was right. If anyone knew you, it was him.

“What is that handwriting? That’s practically illegible…” Tora squints at your letters.

You felt yourself snap back into the rest of the word, and chuckled at her words. “You won’t be able to read it. It’s in Diin. It’s different characters.”

“Oh”

Smirking at her little mistake, you turn your eye to the stack of paper underneath, revealing little painted figures your sisters and cousins had made. One was of Rusty, one of you, and most were a hot mess labelled in your ama’s messy scrawl and sometimes your opki’s neat print. One, as he said, had a bunch of muddy paw prints stacked all over the top of the colourful scribble, where Rusty had clearly “decorated” too hard. At the back of the pack was your older brother’s sketches- he’d done a beautiful one of you and adda, together in the field on the outskirts of your village, so precise you recognised the tree he’d drawn you under. He’d clearly done it off the picture hung in the hallway, taken when you were much younger, but it was still a beautiful drawing all the same.

“Hey, what’s that?” Asa pointed to the box beside your pillow, about the size of a small pizza box, one you hadn’t noticed… but recognised in an instant when you saw the label on top. Norns be blessed.

You practically dived for it, cracking open the box to reveal sweet yig berry tarts, and battered custard balls and shu-bean grinds and menii and salted flatcakes- “It’s from my ama. It’s from her bakery.”

“Your mum’s a baker?” Helga chirped up, poking her head out her bunk.

“Yeah, she’s really good- she used to win awards and things. She owns her own bakery. She’s done it all her life, since she was young…” You stare down into the box, practically salivating. Clambering down, the box carefully balanced in one hand, you gesture all the others closer. “We need a knife.”

“On it.” Aestrid sprung to action, heading downstairs to find a suitable utensil, reappearing with a butterknife and a dinner plate. “This do?”

Nodding, you held out a hand for the knife, pulling two tarts out and dividing each one three ways, trying not to let a drop of pastry go to waste. Each girl gathered in a circle around the plate, all staring at the newest confectionary with curiosity- except for you. You’d missed this so much, you’d been grown on your ama’s cooking. Everyone reached in for a slice, holding it up as the yig sauce was dripping down. You just grinned at the thought of having those sweet berries again… “Iechyd Da everyone.”

“Iechyd Da?” Hildr said.

“Like… cheers.” But really not. Whatever, it didn’t matter. You didn’t think there was a easy comparison.

Aestrid, in true Aestrid fashion, couldn’t care less. “Well… Iechyd Da!”

A chorus of “Iechyd Da!”s went round and everyone bit down. Oh, it was like home again… it was tangy but also soft, and the pastry was sodden with juice and sauce and deliciousness. It was heaven in a bite. You’d lived on this as a kid, this and whatever else came out of that perfect kitchen. Even slightly battered as it was, covered in juice and crumbs and slightly malformed from the journey, it was perfect.

“Shit y/n, this is good!” Hegla said, munching her way through her slice. Tora nodded and tried to agree through a mouth of sticky goodness, and Asa -bless her- awkwardly put her slice back on the plate with an apologetic smile. Which… did sting, but you could hardly blame her for it. It was an acquired taste after all.

“Thanks…” that, for whatever reason, made you feel a lot better. It wasn’t like it really mattered if they liked it or not, but it felt good that most of them did. Aestrid nods along, swiping Asa’s slice up the plate with a glance at you- and you just gesture her to take it. “Can see why she won awards, this is banging. What’s it called again?”

“Yig berry tart.” You reply, licking your finger to mop up the last of the crumbs off the plate.

Aestrid just sends you a look like you’re a little dense or something, nudging teasingly. “No, I meant like… what would your mam call it?”

“What- oh…” that wasn’t what you’d expected her to say. “It’s Kinnervi-a-yigg in Diin. If that’s what you meant.”

“Kin-nerve-i a-yigg?” She seems to test out the words, tasting them on her tongue before nodding contentedly. “Sounds cool. I like it. Tell your mam she’s got a talent right there.”

“Oh, she knows…” you think back to your ama, how swiftly she flitter around the kitchen, like a bird between flowers, kneading and mixing and laughing and singing. She was downright magical with a spatula, everyone said it, and you had always thought her magic was really there, in the food she made. Your dads had been proud, apda helping to decorate and covered in icing sugar, and adda just stood in the corner admiring, only coming over when she demanded his muscles for whisking. You had a lot of fond memories in that kitchen behind the bakery- a lot of fun and a lot of love. “Trust me, she knows.”

Ghosts, draugr, spirits, whatever you called them- you’d never heard of any like that. Not one. Not ever, not in any myths, and stories, Aesir or otherwise, they didn’t exist. You could still see whenever you shut your eyes those piercing green eyes staring straight back at you through the window. They were hauntingly mesmerising, you couldn’t think about anything but. And then those flames jumped up and engulfed him-

You turned away, willing yourself to stop. This was nothing. It was just overtiredness, a trick of the mind. It was probably Aestrid’s stupid ghost story filling in the gaps after a long and stressful week. It was nothing. It was nothing! Ghosts arent’ fucking real, get a grip y/n…

Rosy fingered dawn shone through the curtains and you rolled over to greet it. You still had the beads of your bracelet clutched in your hand- but now you knew you had to face the day. And even exhausted, you were glad of it, if it meant it would take your mind off this insanity. Though, you still had the last few lessons before the weekend. 

Who puts lessons on a Saturday morning anyway? It must have been a private school thing, seeing as Aestrid had told you how common it was at her old school for the upper years. Nonetheless, you slid out of bed and took your uniform, slowly getting dressed as the others woke up. 

One bowl of porridge and several cups of tea later, you and Aestrid both wandered into asgardi literature class, where Professor Hifson stood at the front of the class, doling out copies of “Arms Gui”, the Asgardian classic. Aestrid (having spent too long finishing her breakfast, and then subsequently spent too long chattering to the kitchen staff) had made you both late, the last to enter the class, and the most unfortunate to have to sit at the front, as Hifson glared down the both of you as you walked in. You took your seats, opening the book, trying to shake off your exhaustion and read along with the class while he read aloud-

“The lyre-players took up bows of a different kind,

And the miners traded pickaxe for axe,

All stroj forwards, bearing the mitt flag,

When they attended the battlefront of the lords…”

“What’s ‘stroj’?” you whispered to Aestrid. 

She just shrugged. “It’s like marching in formation, basically.”

“Oh.”

Norns be… you kept trying to read, keeping pace, following along with your finger. Each member of the class was silently copying down notes on his or her copy, as was the expectation, whenever Hifson paused to make some comment about the text. 

“Till when Lord of Kilten did come, 

Bearing with him the weight of the name,

That his father earnt for himself in battle,

A legacy not easily borne- one continued,

By the mistrryping of the young enemy, 

Master of listeners hill…”

‘Mistrryping’? What the hell was a mystrryping? “What’s that?”

“What’s what?” She mumbles back. You just pointed to the book, pulling a face. 

“Oh, it’s like when in battle, they hang people from the feet-”

“Is there a problem Flyndottir?” Hudson stares at Aestrid as she snaps her mouth shut. Shit.

“No sir…” she just mumbles. You reach for her hand under the desk, giving it one thankful squeeze, but clearly Mr Hifson isn’t as easily placaded. 

His hands fold the book and he walks over, standing at the front of your shared desk staring down at you both. “No, Flyndottir, clearly there’s an issue. You come to my lesson -late- and you start talking halfway through thinking I won’t notice. You will tell me what the issue is.”

No, no, no… you could see her squirming next to you. He was stood right there, staring down at both of you expectantly, waiting for Aestrid to crack. Norns be, you felt bad, this wasn’t her fault. “I was just-”

“It was my fault.” you blurt out. Fuck. 

His steely gaze turns to you as you continue to mumble out lamely- “I was just… I was asking what mister-mistryyping meant.”

His eyes don’t move, but you can see the deep inhale he takes as you answer. Clearly he’s not happy. He looks up at the class, lips pressed in a thin line, arms folded over his chest like a challenge. “Anyone else confused at the meaning of the text?”

Silence.

His eyes flit back to you, and he sighs deeply, his voice just bitterly frustrated rather than angry. “Mistrryping, Lambidimdottir, is a technique used in old Asgardian warfare- one of the most common techniques used for treating Asgardian traitors. You would be strung up from the feet and would have a sword driven from your groin right the way down your body to your throat, and then your intestines would be thrown to the dogs. Now, please, no more interruptions.”

That shut you up. 

The rest of the lesson was spent (on your part at least) in silence, trying not to think of the gruesome image he painted so clearly in your head, one that had made you feel light and dizzy and ill. You followed along as best you could silently, and to your surprise so did Aestrid. Neither one of you made a single sound. You were just packing up when from the front of the classroom, you heard someone call-

“Lambidimdottir. A word.”

Shit. 

Aestrid shot one apologetic look at you, but along with everyone else filed out the room, till the only ones left were you and professor Hifson. Which you weren’t particularly pleased about. “Sir?”

He was sat back at his desk, looking down towards a pile of marking, barely sparing a glance in your direction. “Back cupboard, top shelf, the blue book. You might want it.”

You did as he said. Pulling open the back door, there was indeed a dusty old cupboard, filled with copies of various famous works of literature. You had to get a chair from outside to reach the top shelf, pulling down the only book with a blue cover- 

“THE NEW ASGARDIAN DICTIONARY VOL 4.”

Fucksake… really?

“Sir…?” You tugged the chair and the book out the cupboard, wondering what he was playing at. He glanced over casually, before turning back to his marking, sarcastic in his tone. 

“Thought you might find it useful Lambidimdottir.”

“...thanks.” You let it thud on the desk as you stared at the cover glumly. This was going terribly. 

“Did you really not know what mistrryping was?”

You glance up, seeing him still engrossed in the papers. “No sir.”

He snorts, scrawling something in red ink. “Never been to a museum Lambidimdottir?”

“No sir.”

Now that does make him pause. He turns back around, looking at you curiously, pulling his reading glasses down to properly take you in, because it’s obvious he thinks you're joking. “What?”

“Not… not an Asgardi museum sir.” How had this happened. You stared into the floor, shuffling from foot to foot, hands shoved inside your blazer pockets. “Only a hearthfolk museum.”

This does throw him for a loop. He stares at you, trying to square the circle of your calmness and the unprecedentedness of what you’re saying. “...why? Did no one recommend, did the school not take you- I thought it was part of the curriculum.”

“I don’t… I tried sir. Once.” You thought back to it- being turned away at the doors by a man in a blue waistcoat. How your opki had tried to advocate for you both, only for two burly security men to tail you off the premises. Happened in museums, but also private gardens, restaurants, bars, anywhere sophisticated really. You remember one time how your brother had gotten into a yelling match with one of the managers of a public house near where you lived- and you remembered the blow to the jaw he nursed for the next two days. “I’m not… it’s not recommended for my people to go.”

“And why is that?” He said, his voice suddenly lit with suspense. 

You just shrugged. “I think it’s to keep the peace.”

He didn’t respond to that. Just sat quietly, staring into the blank space, like he was contemplating your words. When he did speak next, his voice was quiet, softer than you expected- “Girl, your tribes are most known for pacifism. ‘Keeping the peace’  is not a reason to prevent you from going to the museum.” Well now what were you supposed to say… “I don’t make the rules sir.” He nods again, still taken by the thought, contemplating it in his head. You hadn’t even thought about it that way before, not until he said that- but it didn’t matter now. What could you do to change it? “You’re dismissed Lambidimdottir. And… try pre-reading the text instead of interrupting my lessons. It’ll help with your comprehension.”

“Sir…” with a glance back at him, you slowly return the dictionary to the top shelf, wondering what the hell just happened. That wasn’t what you were expecting him to say. Not in the slightest. Emerging from the cupboard, you pull your books into your back, quietly making for the door, when-

“Fyrr or diin?” 

What the fuck? You actually turn slowly, staring at him. “I’m sorry?” He barely even looks up. “Fyrr or diin?”

Fyrr or diin. Diin or fyrr. He’s asking what you speak. “...diin. Both, but… diin moreso.”

That’s it. He just nods, doesn’t say anything more, leaning back over his desk. And he knows your staring, and you know he knows, but you can’t stop it-

“Dismissed, Lambidimdottir. Now. I’m busy.”

Sweet norns… you slowly pad out the room, the door swinging shut behind you. Walking on autopilot, you turned to the nearest bathrooms (still ten minutes before you had to be in art) and tried to concentrate on the feel of the water from the cold tap gushing out over your wrist- you could feel the tension creeping back again, like a thunderstorm, all that pressure and vileness building up inside you. No, you wouldn’t let it, you couldn’t, you had to focus. You had to not fuck this all up. It was just the feelings from last night left over, playing on your mind. That was all. 

The door of one cubicle swings open behind you and who comes striding out but Aestrid… and Helga. “Did you two pee in the same…?”

“Nah, not really.” Helga said. Whatever that meant. She leant up against the wall and Aestrid hoisted herself up onto the counter, offering up one of her sticky coconut balls- which you passed up on. “What’d he say?”

“Nothing, just the usual spiel.” You lied. “Pay more attention, you know…”

“Oh, yeah, I used to get that all the time for chatting too much.” Aestrid says. Yeah, that checks out. She’s not shut up since you got here. “Come on, we gotta get to art, Ms Jurvdottir might slaughter us in our sleep if we mess up her clay sculpting.”

“She’s not that bad” Hildr rolls her eyes, but all of you fall into step, heading outside towards the art block. 

“Yeah, she is.” Aestrid looks at her like she’s gone mad. “She already hates me because my sister broke her kiln trying to fit a half baked hydra vase inside it. Honestly, the name ‘Flyndottir’ probably gives her ptsd or something, and it’s not like Laurrie meant to crack it in half…”

Zoning out wasn’t hard after that. You could feel her next to you banging on about the proper pottery techniques, her and Hildr debating which way to make a bowl, or how they could make the most obscene sculptures without her noticing. You were still happily mid-daydream when you felt her grab hold of your arm and yank. “What the fu-”

“Look!”

You looked. There were three fifth years, all with green ties, and apart from that, absolutely nothing noticeable- not even the background, they were all stood beside a fence. “So? They’re not even in our house-”

“Oh, you’re so dense. It’s Prince Thor!” Aestrid hissed. 

It took you a bit of squinting to make him out, but eventually… “Oh, yeah, no that might be him.”

She looked like you just shat in her grandmother’s oven. “Might!? Obviously it’s him. He goes to Mimsbir. Everyone in the royal family goes to Mimsbir. It has to be him, he’s known to be in the fifth year. Who the hell else would it be stood here resembling him?”

“Aestrid, we’re already nearly late…”

Hildr chuckles, taking your arm and prising it out of Aestrid’s (surprisingly tight) grip. “Go make a fool of yourself A. We’re off.” “No, don’t leave me, I’m coming… but look at him! Look at the muscles, the muscles are something, don’t you think? He’s on the rowing team you know…”

It also didn’t help that everyone else seemed to have some kind of innate knowledge on what to do. Most people here could read music or had been to Valenheim, some of them could quote poets and philosophers. Rarely did you question things, but often you were left behind in conversation with peers about the best ski resorts in the East district or how best to garnish an oyster. That aside, your teachers were mostly all nice, stricter than the ones at your own school, but you expected that, and slowly you found your worries about the workload and the language disappearing- that wasn’t the hardest bit, it turned out.

Staying in your dorm felt slowly suffocating. Not that any of them weren’t nice- all of them were lovely. Over the last week, Aestrid had taken you under her wing, begun to introduce you to her friends from Riverside Prep, and had sat with you for almost every meal. Asa had taught you the proper way to wear your uniform (apparently there was a wrong way to tie a tie) and had whispered instructions to you when you all had to go stand in the chapel and sing. Hildr and Helga had tugged you into the library for several post-exam debriefs and reading sessions for the following week. Not one of them had an ounce of malice- and yet, you didn’t have a moment to breathe. You felt as though every ounce of your brain was being wrung out just by constantly being engaged. Your old nook was no longer viable- you’d nearly been caught when you were sitting there and heard the cleaners rounding the corner, giving you barely enough time to scamper away and into the adjoining corridor. It wasn’t so much that anything was hard- it was just that EVERYTHING was hard. And impossible to escape.

Finally, now, it was Friday night, early enough that everyone else was still downstairs in the common room chatting, but late enough that you had nothing else you were expected to do for the evening. Lying on your bed, you couldn’t sleep- you were too pent up from having to be “normal”, if even that made sense. You just lay on your bunk, staring at the ceiling, mind running a mile a minute. You felt so tired, but not even physically tired, the kind of tired that only comes from feeling the weight of your own thoughts pressing against your temples, trying to squeeze their way out.

This was hopeless.

Climbing down from your bunk, you pulled open the window, hoping the night breeze would blow your thoughts away. Twilight settled over the fields below, and your mind wandered to what your family was doing back home. Your youngest brothers and sisters would probably still be out playing in the street, while your ama closed up her bakery and took the last of the loaves home, or if there were too many she’d give them to the food bank down the road. Your apda would be walking home too, whistling to himself, while adda hauled coal buckets up the hill and to the fireplace. Auntie Fi would make stew, and your opki would read stories, and your cousin Lana would be all sprawled out on your seat, because it’s her favourite spot and you’re not there to claim it.

And you were here.

You’d tried not to think about it- really, you had -but you were homesick. The food here was always too starchy and bitter-tasting, at least to you, and you had to get to grips with the frankly unnecessary cutlery for the food they served. You hated how little your dormmates slept, chatting when you were past the point of tiredness, to the point where you’d decided to take naps in a couple of your free periods. It wasn’t their fault you needed more sleep, but it wasn’t yours either. There wasn’t the time to go for long walks or play with your dog or sneak into the orchard after school like you’d been so used to. You couldn’t just hug anyone, couldn’t just go and talk how you wanted to talk without translating in your head or-

The door swings open behind you and Aestrid wanders in, throwing her blazer on the hook next to your joint bunk. “Hey, Snappers letting us go raid the 5th years games cupboard, you coming?”

Speak of the devil. You sighed, leaning further out the window, trying not to let your stress blow up all in one. Would you ever be alone? No, that’s not fair, it’s her room too. “I’m okay actually, just tired.”

“Yeah, I got that from you, you seemed really pent up-” she cuts herself off when she sees your weary expression. “Hey.”

“Yeah?” You just didn’t wanna be seen. Was that too much right now…

“You good?” Aestrid comes closer, flopping down on her bed, her eyes curiously peering up at you. You could only smile weakly in response. No, you felt like your emotions were leaking and your fuses had all blown.

“Just tired.”

“Babe, that’s such a crock of shit.” She flips over, propping herself up on her elbows, giving you that look. “Come on.”

“It’s nothing.” You knew that wouldn’t cut it. She’d keep pressing until you gave her something. Staring resolutely out the window, you mumbled out- “…homesick.”

“Oh… I hear you. That’s a bitch at first, but it gets easier. Which, you know, I know it’s harder for you and all, not having anyone old here that you know, but…” She does look sympathetic -you know in your head she is sympathetic. “…you gotta get used to it. And you will! Just give it another few weeks and you won’t wanna go home.”

“I doubt it somehow.” You looked out at the skyline, at the way the sun dipped down onto the horizon and painted the sky pink. “But thanks A. I probably just need some sleep.”

“Sure, sure…” she looks up at you, resting her head in her palm, before she slowly pulls herself up with a grunt. “Just… I dunno. Get some rest. You look knackered.”

“I’ll try…” you mumbled as the door swung shut. Well. Fat chance that was. You climbed back up onto your bunk, letting the breeze float through the room while you laid down. Your clothes all of a sudden felt too itchy and too tight, and with one glance at the door you shed them- left only in your underwear, you crawled under the sheets and settled down, wrapping the duvet high over you and haphazardly tucking yourself in as best you could. You snuck one hand out of your homemade cocoon to pull out from under the bed the blanket you’d brought from home, scrunching up to use as a pillow so your face was resting on it with your nose buried in the smell. It wasn’t big, only a foot or so long and wide, but it was what your omki knitted you when you were young- there’s only pictures somewhere of you swaddled in it. You’d thought by now it was only with you for sentiment’s sake, but you hadn’t protested when your ama packed it for you, thinking nothing of it at the time- but you were glad of it now. Nestled there, on the top bunk, you tried as hard as you could to just… just let go of the thoughts in your head… trying to… to drift… off…

Night had swept the sun off her sky and the moon glistened and peeked through the shutters as you lay there unresting on the bed. It seemed like there was too little time you had to yourself, to do what you had to do, to be… to be, basically. The girls had all made their ways inside, to retire for the night, but it was like you had been running on fumes all day and needed to refuel in your own space. You couldn’t sleep. You needed to move, to do something, anything.

Slowly, you crept out of bed, wrapping your coat around your shoulders, and slipped out to the window, pulling the curtains aside to stare up into the night sky. You couldn’t stay here too long- one of the girls might wake up and see you. Instead, you walked out of the room (it felt more normal to walk barefoot, despite how much you knew everyone else here valued their socks), and along the corridor, up the flights of stairs, till you got to the very very top.

There was only one door, like you’d suspected. Nothing else.

Your opki had always worked on farms as a cultivator- his magic could make entire fields grow, could make trees blossom, could even tell when a storm was brewing. It was his pride, his favourite party trick, to take the littlest child, put a seed in their hand, and make it sprout and grow right their in their palm.

He was also incredibly magically gifted at unlocking things.

Your fingers glowed a slight gold (your heart panged with guilt when you thought of how you’d promised not to use the spell), and the lock made a grinding noise- and then clicked.

You slowly turned the handle, and opened it to see the roof of the building, where before it sloped off into the night a flat stretch along the very top invited you forward. Stepping out into the night, it felt as though this was the first time in a week you’d been able to breathe, and breathe freely- this was all yours. You began to walk slowly down your makeshift patio, counting the steps, and turning on your heel to count again. Up and down, counting, walking, trying to feel out all the pent up emotions you’d been feeling before. You realised, finally alone now, that you had without any intention begun to purr. This deep humming in your chest that ran through your body, thrumming inside you, like a hummingbirds wings. It just felt right- better. Calmer.

Up and down. Up and down. You walked and walked, counting at first, but that faded to the beats of songs you whispered under your breath. Up and down. You spoke to yourself, poetry, or just passing thoughts, or to the moon herself as she watched your bizarre dance. And you “danced” too, if that was the right word, skipping and hopping and spinning, like there was too much inside of you that had to be shaken free. It was calmer than you’d ever felt here. It was joyous solitude. If such a thing could be described. Not that anyone else knew it, but the freedom to not be looked at or seen and just exist, it was more than enough right now.

Sat on the edge of the ledge, you finally paused to take a breath, glancing up at the night- you ought to go and sleep yet, to rest before tomorrow. For sure you’d be overtired, but this had been needed, and now, you knew logic had to creep back into your mind. You finally turned back to the door, but as you did, something caught your eye…

The window across from you, on the top floor of the Sir Loudlam building, you saw a shadow move. Shit. Had you been caught? Had someone seen you? Oh, you’d be in so much shit, snapper would have your guts… you froze with fear, paralysed at the thought, your eyes fixed on the window. And then it moved again, peering out at you.

Two bright emerald eyes stared down, practically shining against the black silhouette. They were fixed on you, following each movement. The secret voyeur had a piercing gaze, unflinching, not cold but… a spectator. Those eyes were magnetic, hypnotic in form and beauty, and they were so cautious in every way.

A light flared from this shadow- a green fire seemed to engulf him, crawling over his skin, leaping onto his shoulder, highlighting him for a second, even when you were both gazing into each other’s eyes- Then there was one swift flash, and he was gone.

How you hated that phrase; it was used in times gone to justify the reign of Bohr and his crusades into the North towards Asgard’s mountains, and East into the dense forests. It was written in history books where true history should be, the ones that were eradicated. And yet it was printed proudly onto the crest above the large doorway as you and a thousand other students filed forwards.

It was also what the professors had said when first you came to the Mimsbir school- one that had been told to you over and over when you applied by those that ran it. You would be the first in your tribe to attend, the first of your kind to be precise. Looking around, it was glaringly obvious how Aesir dominated this whole place was, though it was formally supposed to be open to all Asgardian citizens. No, it was the litter of the gods that strutted confidently inside, laughing and joking with each other like old friends. And they were, to be fair. Every one of them had been sent to the most prestigious schools in all of Asgard, prim and proper and oh so posh, knowing all the right people, saying all the right things. They were family friends, or aristocrats, or just in with “that” crowd. They had that familiarity that going to the most well known, well respected, reputable school in all of Asgard- it was just what was expected. The place their parents and grandparents and forefathers beyond that had gone to.

You were not so confident… you walked in alone, having pleaded with your aunties not to tail you to the gates. They had all been so proud you’d passed the exams, and managed to find yourself a place. You hadn’t wanted to dash their hopes by telling them the truth- that you were terrified. You knew how much everyone had poured into this, how proud your ama had been when you got the letter. Your family had been so happy, showering you with praises and kisses and songs, your apda boasting to anyone that heard. Some part of you was just as proud- you had done the impossible, you had made it, a hearthfolk into the Mimsbir school. It was an unheard of phenomena, the first one ever. The other part of you, the one currently more dominant, was petrified- this was so far out of your comfort zone. You were suddenly here, alone, far far from your kin, from your family, from everything you knew, and it was glaringly obvious to anyone how different you were. A soft-brained child could have spotted how out of place you were, the only person stood alone. The looks you were getting now couldn’t be more astounded- few people truly looked hostile towards you, but your too pale skin and short stature, your too large doe eyes with those huge pupils, your hair long and coloured with ribbons, all of it was so foreign to them. Double and then triple takes came your way, simply because your presence there seemed a shock. You just shrugged your blazer closer over your shoulders and pulled your bag tighter, following the crowd towards the hall. You’d just been overthinking this, surely. Once you were inside, once you were settled and everyone was used to you, and vica versa, it would be different. You were sure. Hopefully, this would be a brief blip, a teething problem.

Inside, the grand hall was filling up. Everyone in their identical blazers took their seats, the pews and benches all full of joyous chatter, some more boisterous, some gossiping, some swapping stories and giggling and eyeing up their classmates. You found your name on the list on the pew at the back and settled, tucking your bag under your feet, alongside two other girls on your bench. The charms on your bracelet rattled and clicked as you fiddled with them, rubbing your fingertips over the beads and trying to calm your racing thoughts. This was nothing, just a first day at school, anyone would be nervous. It was nothing to panic over, nothing to fret at. That was all you had to keep thinking-

“‘Scuse me, but you’re blocking the seats…” A girl next to you had you startled as your head snapped round to look at her. She looked… well. Like a schoolgirl. Prettier than most by far, and her hair was cut fashionably short, her tie looser than normal, with a hand shoved into the pocket of her too big blazer and her deep blue eyes were fixed on you expectantly.

“I- yeah, sure, sorry…” Pulling your things along, you shuffled down a bit to let her in, smiling as best you could through the nerves as she settled beside you. “I’m err… I’m y/n. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise babe, I’m-” she said, pulling a pen out of her pocket to scrawl something on her hand, before her eyes flitted back up at you, and she did a double take. It was as though you could see the thoughts turning over in her head in real time, but like everyone else in this place, she masked it in a flash, painting on a smile. “I’m Aestrid. Pleasure’s mine. I like your hair.”

“Thank you. My auntie did it.” Subconsciously you reached up to fiddle with the ribbons, smoothing them over and feeling the bright colours that were woven into your hair. Now what to say? You weren’t exactly sure… you just looked around, trying to think of something. “Are you with a group, or…”

“Oh, all my friends are in the other rows, mostly there-” She pointed across the hall, where a small group of girls were all huddled together, clearly in deep conversation. “We came together from Riverside prep. You?”

“No, I’m… I’m flying solo for this one.” Understatement of the century. You could see a flicker of surprise on her face, and you tried to quickly clarify, unsure how much to say without making it worse. “I didn’t come from a feeder school… I’m from way up north. Err… near Saa Fur?”

Seemingly she had a flash of recognition flicker in her eyes -was that pity?- but again the salesman smile barely faltered. She shrugs confidently, stretching an arm across the back of the bench with casual ease. “Oh, I’ve heard of it, yeah… my cousin went up there one year for some festival- she said it was lovely. You live all the way up there? In the mountains?”

She didn’t half sound amused, you thought. Something in her voice made you wonder what she really thought of your homeland, but in the spirit of being friendly, you decided it was better to gloss over that bit. “Yes. Towards the glens.”

“Oh, that’s so cute. I’m from just a couple of miles down the road from here, Misav, outside the City of Asgard, so I’m not quite as far flung.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve been once…” you sort of trail off that sentence. Misav was a nice district, known for being the business and financial part of Asgard, so it wasn’t exactly somewhere you frequented often. You’d gone with your grandfather, your opki, when he had to visit the registry office there to update some of his papers, though that was about as far as you’d gotten really.

“Yeah, it’s nice there. My family runs the townhouses on Brashden street, and my uncle manages the Cygnet hotel, so we have to spend a lot of time there unfortunately. It’s so busy with tourists…” She says. Norns be, this was not your tax bracket. You tried awkwardly to change the subject, in the absence of any anecdote of your own to follow that up with.

“So you’ve… got people here already?” You ask, looking over at her friends. She didn’t seem half as nervous or out of place as you.

“Oh, yeah, my sister comes here. She’s in the 4th year now, she’s been here ages. She loves it, been telling me stories for years. She’s the top of her year and runs the lacrosse team- though that’s mostly for clout rather than her love of sport. Did you know the top corridor is haunted?”

That finally made you chuckle. “Really? By who?”

“Dunno. But-” she grins, leaning in closer, shuffling down like she had some secret to let you in on. “She said she saw a figure.”

“Oh?”

Nodding, her voice becomes quieter, like she’s letting you in on some big secret. “Apparently the draugr only comes there after midnight. They said you can hear it’s footsteps if you listen really closely, but the ghost has gotten more adventurous in the last year or so. And apparently, if you're really sneaky, you can see it- before it vanishes in a flash of green smoke.”

Of course. In a building as old as this one, there were sure to be rumours and legends. A ghost. How cute. You’d never believed in them- spirits and sprites and wisps perhaps, but the undead- no. Death was death, that was what you were always taught. “Well, I’ll have to look out for that…”

Aestrid leans back, smirking at you knowingly. “I know you don’t believe me, but she’s convinced it’s true. She’s seen it.”

“I don’t believe in draugar.” The undead revenants that frequented the stories of the gods. The story of Grettir’s battle with the undead wasn’t unknown to you, but it wasn’t exactly interpreted as fact these days- those stories were from long ago, rarely did anyone think them true anymore, surely… “Do you?”

“I dunno… but she was sure she saw one. Sure as anything. I can tell when she’s lying.”

As you were about to reply with something non-commital, the conversation was cut off by the doors behind you swinging open with a loud creak, and the appearance from the back of the hall of who you could only assume with the matrons. The tallest of them with an angular face strode over to your section, gesturing to your bench and the two benches in front. Everyone reached for their things and trotted along behind her, like ducklings that blindly follow whatever first they imprint on.

“Where are we going?” you asked Aestrid, pulling your satchel over your shoulder. The corridors were old stone and wood, cold underfoot, but full of joyful students.

“Dorms.” She replied, practically skipping beside you. “The bench you're in dictates who you're sharing a room with. You’re stuck with me for now.”

“O-oh, right.” Dorms. Obviously. Where else would you be…

You all filed into a large room, where a roaring fireplace and tables and sofas were dotted about, along with floor to ceiling bookcases crammed with old novels. Wood panelling on the walls was painted a deep reddish-mahogany, and the carpets were cream and soft underfoot. The main source of light came from the arching bay windows that dominated the far wall and looked out onto the pitches down below, but above you, a silver chandelier hung from the ceiling. It was cosy, quaint, and slightly musty with that feel of a place lived-in.

Aestrid pulled you down onto a sofa, dropping her own bags on the floor and gesturing for you to follow suit. Everyone looked expectantly at the Matron, who stood at the front, her slim figure the only one still standing. Her hair was streaked grey and tied back in a bun that seemed to elongate her forehead with how tight it was. When she finally did speak, her voice was clipped and blunt, completely neutral in every way.

“Welcome all to Mimsbir, I hope you’re all looking forward to your time here. I’m Ms. Svendottir, I’ll be your first point of call for any issues you have at Mimsbir. As you all know, this is a school for those that wish to try hard and succeed even harder, and we have been supplying Asgard’s finest with the best education for centuries now. You will be saying here for the duration of your time with us, in the Red House, and will be living alongside your classmates for the next five years, so I strongly suggest you make yourselves at home and prepare to settle in. A few basic housekeeping…”

“She’s nicknamed snapper, you know.” Aestrid whispers in your ear, making you jump a mile.

“What?”

“Snapper. Like the fish. Because she’s cold blooded, and she snaps at anything that moves.”

“Ah. Right.” Because that filled you with optimism. You tried to focus, trying your hardest to actually concentrate on what you were being told, but it wasn’t exactly a gripping lecture when Snapper prattled on about bin-emptying and where the laundry rooms were.

Finally however, she seemed to get to the point and the room leaned in as she pulled from her pocket a list. “There are 4 dorms in this wing, and you are only permitted to go into your own room. Rooms 1 and 3 are for boys, and 2 and 4 are for the girls. Room 1 will have Killianson, Brasvenson, Straanurson…”

Your room. You’d hoped to have a small group, or even be by yourself, but your heart sank just a little at having to live in such close quarters with people. Not that you were antisocial, but having to be “normal”… norns be good, you hoped for decent people.

“Room 2, Aldersdottir, Murgindottir, Saminodottir…”

“Damn, I don’t know anyone in this house.” Aestrid mumbled, nudging you. “Heck, you reckon we’ll be bunkmates?”

“I dunno, I can’t hear…” It would be fine. This was just another blip, that’s all you had to think about. This would all be fine.

“Room three, Finson, Thatherson, Hikenson…”

“Hey, we must be- there’s only the last girls room left.” Clutching your arm she grinned at you, her whispers causing a couple of people to look over at you as you tried to shy away from the attention.

Snapper sent you both a glare before continuing with her lists. “Room four, Alhindottir, Yesrdottir, Haemdottir, Flyndottir, Yergandottir, and… umm… Sib- Sibish-shiten?” Her eyes darted back up to land on yours questioningly.

“Stribishten. Labidimdottir would be the Asgardi…” you sort of mumble out.

“Lambidimdottir then.” Snapper nods, gesturing to the doorway for your dorms. “Go on with you all. Dinner is at six o’clock sharp.”

Well. That was that, you supposed. You traipsed up the stairs and into the dormroom, watching as the other girls slung their bags on the bunks and began nattering away to each other. Your new roommates scrambled to claim their own bunks, wandered in to scope out the bathroom, swapped names and basgy-ed the wardrobe space each of them was after.

“Y/N!” Aestrid’s voice chirped up from the far end, grinning at you from the bottom bunk. “Take the top one. I get up too often for a piss to be on top.” “Ta…” You clambered awkwardly into the top bunk and placed your lone bag down, watching as all the other girls unpacked their many cases into the wardrobes, chatting with each other. Feeling a little overwhelmed, you opted to hideout in your bunk- you began to unpack what little you had packed in your suitcase onto your bed, making piles of clothes and uniforms and toiletries and bedclothes- you had been given a duvet and a pillow, but your ama had been insistent you bring your own blankets. ‘To remind you of home’ she’d said. Glancing around, no one seemed to be looking at you- you wrapped it around your shoulders and buried your nose in the smell of it, trying to collect the calm presence of your own bed in your mind’s eye. Just one quick reminder, before you tucked it under your pillow and tried to settle in properly.

The time before dinner went by in a blur. Aestrid and you met the others in your room; Hildr, who was in the bunk nearest the door and Helga above her who knew each other from primary school, both of whom were very chatty and smiley; Tora who had the top bunk near the bathroom who had an older brother in the same year as Aestrid’s sister, who had bragged about her sports scholarship; and Asa with the bunk under her who was quieter and half asleep, having come early this morning from far west Asgard where her father worked as a general in the Asgardi Military Command. You were midway through listening to Helga and Hildr’s gossip about the people they had been to school with, when a sharp knock on the door interrupts. “Lambidimdottir!”

Every head turned towards Snapper’s voice. Your heart dropped like a stone as a chorus of “ooohs” went around the room and the girls all giggled.

“You in trouble already babes?” Aestrid chuckled, slapping you on the back as you walked past.

“Seems that way.” Was all you muttered under your breath as you shuffled out the room, with all of the girls' eyes on you.

Outside, Ms Svendottir stood with her arms folded across her chest, her blue eyes piercing through you as you slipped out the door. She cocks her head, looking up and down as you shuffled in front of her. Oh, norns, what have you done now… “Ma’am?”

“I needed to speak with you, Miss Lambidimdottir.” She might as well have tipped a bucket of water over your head with how uncomfortable those words were. “I was made aware before your arrival that you might need accommodations?”

Really? This was the issue? No one had thought to just pass on the letter your opki sent? “Yes ma’am. I… I’ve already sent over the list of accommodations I received at my old school.”

Snapper just huffs impatiently, like your very existence was an inconvenience by now. “Right. And what was that exactly?”

What were you supposed to say to that?! Your school was predominantly made up of people similar to you. “Umm… well, I have… I just have the usual things ma’am.”

“Yes, well, I don’t know what the ‘usual’ things are Lambidimdottir.” She snaps. You can see now where she got her nickname from.

Taking a deep breath, you tried not to lose your temper and thought about it a moment, and the few non-hearthfolk children you went to school with. “I umm… I have dietary requirements. I can’t eat meat for cultural reasons, only ones slaughtered in certain ways at certain times of the year and mooncycle.”

“Right, I’ll inform the kitchens you’re vegitarian-”

“Oh, or Vanirian vegetables, because the pesticides used on them would make me ill. And I won’t be able to have certain medications or drugs if I was ill.” You continued- only to see the mildly annoyed look on her face at the interruption.

Snapper seems to just start scribbling notes onto a piece of paper, sighing loudly at your interruption. “Anything else?”

“Umm… yes, I… I get overwhelmed easier than most. My senses are much more heightened, and I can have umm… oh I forget the Asgardian…” You wracked your brain, trying to think of the term. At home, they were just called what would be translated as ‘walled logic’, because it was when your brain didn’t see the world as it was, but rather, as an amplified version of itself.

“Attacks?” she offers dryly. Shit. That was it. You nodded slowly.

“Yes. ‘Attacks’ if that’s what you want to call them. Though it’s rare, it just makes me curl up and my joints will lock so I can’t uncurl, or… or sometimes I’ll need to just leave for a moment. I’m also occasionally prone to… emotional outbursts. I get emotional quickly.” It felt shameful to admit, in it’s own awkward sort of way. You knew it was a natural thing for you, that it couldn’t be helped- but still, it felt like you were inadequate now standing here rattling off all the things you couldn’t do before you’d even started. Like you were a walking stereotype.

“What would minimise these attacks then?” She says flatly, running a tongue over her teeth in obvious contemplation.

Not being here you thought. Not that that was a helpful note. “I suppose… I get them when there’s too much going on. The easiest way to manage them is with-” With what? You would say comfort, hiding away in your room to make yourself a nest of blankets and wraps and quilts, curling up and putting on a little music till you feel better. That helped. When you were young and you got overwhelmed, your opki and omra would come curl next to you and bring snacks and sing, and then you got older and needed to be alone, you’d bring the dog upstairs as the most non-judgemental and cuddly member of your family… but that was out of the question now. All of it was. Hell, where would you even make a nest? “With… with music I suppose. And rest.”

“Music, ‘you suppose’?” The incredulity in her expression could have broken records. “Can you manage these attacks by yourself Lambidimdottir, yes or no?”

“I- yes.” Slowly the tension was creeping up your shoulders. Your fingers rubbed over the wooden beads over and over, trying to find a little comfort in them as the questions were shot at you. “Yes, I can manage ma’am.”

“Good.” Her clipped voice was too curt for courtesy as she scrawled down the last of your notes. “Then you will be expected to perform to the same standards as everyone else here. Your place here is earnt, not to be taken for granted. Do you understand me?”

“Yes ma’am.” Fucking hell… you knew it wasn’t to be some humiliation ritual, but you were feeling less and less confident as the time went by.

“I would hope so. Your entrance grades were promising, but you have a long way to go.” she barely looks at you as she tucks that notepad into her pocket, stalking off down the hallway. “Good luck.”

“Thank you ma’am.” Your voice was little more than a whisper as she walked off, leaving you standing in the corridor alone- you should go back to your dorm. You were supposed to be settling in, right? You’d been told the importance of good impressions, of being a good student, a team player. It would be the right thing to do.

You walked down the hallway till you found an unlocked cupboard, full of brooms and cleaning supplies and who knows what else. It was tiny and cramped and smelt mostly of dust and chemicals, and it made your nose sting to be inside. Pulling the door shut, you pushed the hoover out the way and cleared a few bottles aside, making a small spot on the floor, pulling your blazer tighter around you- tight enough that the pressure of the material pulled so taught it was enough to trick your brain into thinking you were held. Slipping the bracelet from your wrist meant you could hold each bead in between your fingers, feeling the tiny engravings of familiar characters onto them. Your words were almost inaudible, but to your own ears-

“Norns, see that this is not in vain, but show me your plans. My branch on life’s tree is not yet grown, and already I feel it needs pruning and trimming back down to its place. Let me your knowledge, just this once; and I will listen.”

Loki had been lazily stretched out along the sofa when he jumped out of his skin to the sound of blaring alarms. Really, another threat… he’d barely sat down this morning. He, along with every other Avenger, raced up to the stairs towards the helipad at the top of Stark tower. One flash of green was all it took for him to be prepared for a fight, his seiðr covering him in battle leathers. He could hear the others donning their armour in the background, Mjonir whistling through the air and Stark’s clunky machinery encasing him. “Alright gang, rumour has it a giant snake is running rampant through Manhattan.”

“And he doesn’t mean a rattlesnake.” Rogers piped up in that annoyingly chipper tone of his.

“Yeah, no shit Cap.” Tony’s face guard slides down, and he points into the city, his thrusters levitating him just off the ground. “Snake’s down there. Get a move on. It’s hiding in Chinatown, but it keeps moving around, and it’s causing chaos. Let’s go.”

Norns be, a giant snake… ugh. Loki shot one bored look at Thor, but his brother barely took any notice, just wrapping one arm around him and lifting them both into the air with Mjonir’s force. They followed Tony, Natasha, Cap and Clint in the jet behind, and Banner had elected to stay home for this particular mission, as some sort of backup. The younger god hated this particular mode of transport, but ever since he magically tampered with comms on a particularly dull evening and sent the team on a wild goose chase that nearly crashed the plane, he’s been banned from air travel by order of the director.

“Brother! Another snake!” Thor was far too enthusiastic for so early in the morning. “And on Midgard no less. I didn’t think such creatures inhabited here…”

Loki -unsurprisingly- just huffed and clung on tighter. “Yes, would you hurry up, you’re going to drop me-”

“Do you remember in Valenheim when we saw that big snake attacking the locals? The one with the big teeth that used to slighter around in the forests and munch on passers by. I didn’t know Midgard had snakes too, I assumed with their tiny planet animals that size would not be able to sustain…”

If he wasn’t about to need his seirð for a battle, he might just have tuned Thor out magically. As it was, he had to use his usual method of just ignoring him and letting him blab on the whole time. When they did finally land in Chinatown, Loki managed to detach himself pretty quickly and join the others as they all climbed out the jet. Though notably, with no Tony. Loki just sighed and tailed along at the rear of the group, his daggers all reappearing. “So where is this supposed threat?”

“Down here-” The widow led the way, wandering down a deserted street where several police cars had stopped. Brilliant. More humans. Loki hung back, watching the other humans and Thor advance while he kept his distance.

He seemed to do that a lot these days.

“What’s the situation?” The captain said, walking up to the nearest policeman. The officer turned around, looking completely befuddled with the whole situation, running a hand through his thinning hair as his eyes flitted between the superheroes and the front of the shop the cars were currently blockading.

“I dunno Captain, I jus’- I ain’t never seen anythin’ like it…”

All of them slowly stepped closer- it was clear the whole front window had been smashed in completely, leaving a huge hole in the front. The shop was shrouded completely in darkness, some black shape lurking in the back, tiny glimmers of light on its scales. One long hiss can be heard, and then from that blackness, two fluorescent eyes stare out. Each one must have been bigger than a dining table, and wide too, looking out into the street. Those bright green eyes with flecks of black and gold fix on each of the avengers in turn with their slitted pupils- before finally landing on Thor.

Now, the average human would have slowly retreated, probably called an exterminator, a therapist and a priest, and then gone to bed. Not Thor. “Jörmungandr, you little shit-”

In a flurry of chaos a black tail bursts out, and with insane accuracy swipes at Thor and sends him flying into the opposite buildings with a satisfying thwack. He’s slammed back so hard he’s actually dented the brick he was thrown against, leaving a Thor-sized divot in the wall as he tumbles to the floor. And the snake? Well, if snakes could laugh, it would be laughing, but all it seemed to be doing was bopping up and down and hissing louder.

By now, every Avenger in the place had their weapon out, with Tony’s blasters gearing up, preparing to shoot a burst of energy and heat towards this unearthly reptile when-

“No!” Loki ran straight forwards. Of course. Huge snakes in the middle of New York, why would any other bloody snake come to New York? “You can’t do that. You’ll hurt him.”

Which conveniently cleared up nothing. “That’s sort of the fucking point reindeer, now move-”

“YGAAAHG!” Thor leapt forwards, hammer held high , jumping straight over Loki’s head and bashing the poor snake on the nose. In response, the serpent darted forward, this time head first, jaws wide open to grab Thor by the leg and dangle him several meters into the air. Thor took a shot at the beast with his hammer, and was promptly thrown straight upwards and into the sky, caught by the jaws. By now, all the Avengers had taken up arms, and just as Tony was aiming his blasters, Loki’s seirð slammed his glove into the ground. The noise made the Captain turn, grabbing Loki by the collar. “If you’re going to fight us Loki, didn’t end well last time now did it-”

“That’s my son, you snivelling twat!” Loki slammed his hands into the captain, forcing him backwards and away. It must have been common knowledge by now how he’d come to be on earth- and if Frigga knew, then she would have told his children. “Jöe! Stop it! Put your uncle down, now!”

A disgruntled hiss as his secondborn threw Thor up into the air another time.

Well, he was the middle child after all, anything for attention… “Jörmungandr Lokison, put him down right fucking now!”

Reluctantly Jöe did drop his uncle, with a long fat lick of snake-slobber all over his face- to which Thor retaliated with simply dropping his hammer straight into the boy’s mouth and pinning him to the floor. All he could do was let out a pitiful pained squeak as Thor glowered over him like the cat that got the cream. “You should respect your elders you know, not very becoming of a prince-”

“Thor, take your hammer OUT of my son’s mouth.”

“He just tried to eat me!”

“Thor, he can’t move, take the fucking hammer-”

“I’m sorry, are you the one with fish-stank spit all over your clothes, you useless-”

Loki stormed over and drawing a dagger pointed it straight at Thor’s throat- which would have been slightly more threatening if they both didn’t know he was needed alive to pick up the hammer. “Move it Thor!”

“Fiiiiine, fucking hell, you’re such a leinient father, no wonder he’s got no manners…” Thor was about to reach in, but thought better of it as he saw Jörmungandr’s eyes gleaming with that same mischief he inherited from his father. Not fancying a stump for a hand, he simply summoned it from a safe distance away. It was clear his nephew was about to go for round two when he coiled around, darting his tongue out daringly, till Loki came and stood between them.

“No.”

Jöe advanced slowly down the street, his black body coiling till he was holding himself upright, staring down at his father with those big green eyes, challenging him. As if anyone could challenge Loki. “Don’t start with me Jöey, I’ll still treat you like you’re a little eel again if you get all cocky. Enough.”

It takes a few seconds before -like some kind of bizarre serpentine moody teenager- Jöe slinks back into the chinese restaurant he was currently inhabiting, curling up into himself.

Surely it could not be this tricky… Loki sighed, shooting a glare at Thor before tucking his knife back into his robes and attempting to head inside.

“I’m sorry, abso-fucking-lutely not.” Tony hovered in front of the entrance, blocking his way in. By now, the Avengers were all staring at him with some kind of dumb confusion. “You… what?!”

“What?” Come on, he didn’t have time for this, he wanted to go check on his boy…

“You have a son. A snake son.” Stark looked between him and the black mess of coils behind. No one knew what to think.

“Yes…”

The archer piped up next, as sarcastic as ever. “So what, you banged… a snake?”

And just when humans couldn’t get any less irritating… he knew they thought he was an insane genocidal maniac, but adding beastiality to the list of his crimes wasn’t exactly ideal. “I did NOT ‘bang a snake’, thank you.”

“So why the scaly, non-limbed, distinctly serpent like creature you’re calling ‘son’?” Hawkeye shoots back.

“Ugh, he is my son, and I have never had intercourse with a snake, two things can be true at once-”

“What about the horse?” Thor deserves strangling by now.

Every human practically swiveled round to stare at him now. The Captain’s jaw looks to have dropped so low it’s dislocated. Tony speaks up again, “You fucked a horse?!”

Why does this always get brought up? “I did NOT fuck a horse.”

The fraternally-induced chaos strikes again. “The horse did the fucking of him actually-”

“Shut UP Thor.”

Tony’s eyes couldn’t get wider. “I’m sorry, a horse fucked you? What, like…” There’s that awkward bit where he just looks pointedly at Loki’s leather clad backside.

Fucking humans. “No! No horse has ever fucked me up the arse.”

Thor again piped up in that unhelpful manner of his. “Tis true.”

“You… watched?” Clint looked downright disgusted at the thought, putting his arrows back in their quiver.

“No! No, no no no no. But it couldn’t have been, because when he got pregnant-”

This is why you should never work with close family. Loki just shot the blond a fatal glare that managed to silence his brother. “Enough! You’ve said plenty today, thank you.”

Thor is unfettered by Loki’s retorts- but does abruptly shut up, as does everyone else, when the conversation is hijacked by Jöe’s growl from inside his little restaurant/cave, making everyone except Loki jump out of their skin.

Steve leans a little closer to Loki, mumbling quiet enough that (he hopes) the snake won’t hear. “You… can you understand that, or…?”

“He wishes not to be present as everyone gives me a tongue lashing about his brother’s conception.” Which, in Loki’s defence, is probably what he said. No one really knows with Jöe, unless they speak snake, though over the years Loki’s got pretty good at snake body language identification.

There’s a sort of awkward pause until Stark, in some logic defying way, shakes off the absurdity and gets back to business. “Right. Okay, and he’s here why?”

“What do you mean?”

Clint smirks and chimes in, having set his arrows down and decided to perch on the bonnet behind them all snarking. “Well, if he was after a chow mein and crispy chili beef there’s other ways to acquire it.”

“I would imagine, Barton, if you all gave me a moment with my son, I could find out.” Now even he was practically hissing now, his composure lost in a wave of human intolerance. Finally (finally!) the humans seemed to get the hint and back off.

Once he had at last got a clear path, he waved one hand and with a flash of green a pile of fat stinking fish suddenly gushed out onto the street, ungutted, heads and all, some still flopping with how fresh they were. “Out Jöe. Come on. You shouldn’t be in there.”

One growl was the only response he got.

And he bloody well wouldn’t settle for that. “Jöey, get out. I appreciate you coming to see me, my boy, I really do, but you’re currently smashing up a load of human shops. Out. Now.”

Another long growl, this one followed by a slow blink. Huh. That’s… weird. Jöe unmotivated by food was honestly not what he was expecting to see. “Are you just being a grumpy little shit?”

This was more of an indignant huff than a growl. Loki could do nothing but throw his hands up, patience for today well into the overdraft and about to max out. “Jöe, either get out or I will come in there and make you.”

This time, Jöe yowled rather than growl softly, slithering slowly out- okay, he was a fully grown sea-monster now, but he knew Loki wasn’t bluffing, and in the interests of paternal tranquillity… he slithered on over, munching down on the fish with his body mostly coiling around Loki like an overgrown scaly toga.

Steve leans over to Thor, mumbling slightly too loudly- “He’s not going to constrict him to death or anything, is he?”

“Unfortunately, no.” Thor replies, earning him a hiss from his nephew.

“Ah, Jöey…” Loki pulls him by the scale back towards the fish pile, stroking his ‘back’ (do snakes even have backs?) all the while. “Come on, out the restaurant. All of you. Now. Get your tail out.”

All the avengers watched as the snake curled around Loki, using black coils to pull him to his feet, before Jörmungandr’s head nudged the back of his legs softly, urging him forwards. Reaching a hand back, Loki tried to give him a pet, but his boy wouldn’t have it, pushing onwards again. “What?”

Jöe just growled and pushed.

Slowly, Loki let his boy lead him forwards, inside the dimly lit restaurant. He really wasn’t a little eel anymore, by now, his boy was bigger than ever, consisting of piles and piles of coils and scales, leaving Loki to clamber over each one till he was in a sea of black curls. The serpent moved, snuggling close to him, tilting this way and that until he felt something-

A pouch.

Snakes, the last time anyone checked, weren’t marsupials.

Jörmungandr’s snout nudged his father forwards, and Loki wriggled closer, trying to peer inside, to see what the hell could possibly be contained within a literal sea-beast’s pouch. His hands slowly prised it open, his whole body taught with anticipation, unsure of what he would find…

A slightly damp hand grabbed his. “Hey dad! Guess what? Me and Vali and Jöey all came to see you cause mama said you’d be really upset after getting beated up by Uncle Thor. An’ grandma Fi said that you-”

“Norns damn your eyes Narfi, you gave me a fucking heart attack!” Loki watched as his younger boy climbed out the pouch, tumbling onto the snakes coils. He was only slightly bigger than when he left, still just as clumsy and overzealous in speech, and a complete airhead.

“Sorry. Anyway, Jöey came got us last night when we were supposed to be in bed and then we got in his pouch and he took us to the seaside! It was really cool, but then we had to swim through the bifrost tunnel and my tummy went all funny and I nearly weed myself and then we got here and we got in the sea again and we saw a whale! And it was reeeeeealy big and then Jöey took a bite out of its tail and it ran away, and then Vali’s tooth fell out and then-”

This was headache inducing. Loki sat down against the coils, watching his little boy rattle on. “Wait, where is Vali?”

Narfi just pointed to the pouch. Oh joy. Crawling back over, Loki reached in with both hands and pulled out the younger twin, who looked suitably exhausted from inter-realm travel stuffed in a pouch with a chronic oversharer known as his brother. “Hey Vali. You okay poppet?”

He nestles closer to Loki- he always was the more sensitive twin. It didn’t help that he got steamrolled by his brother constantly. “Narfi sat on me…”

“I did not sitted on him!”

“Yes you did!”

“No I didn’t!”

Vali is not taking any of it, hugging Loki tighter as he protests against his elder twin. “You sat on me the whole time, an’ I didn’t even gets to see the whale.”

“That’s ‘cause you have bad eyes-”

“Boys, enough.” Don’t get it twisted, he loved his kids more than anything, but this was impossible… he summoned his dagger back, handing it to Narfi with excessive pageantry. “Go stab your uncle. Avenge me, my son.”

“Yaaaaaay!” His little legs pedalled dead quick over Jöe’s coils and out into the street, where Thor’s scolding and Narfi’s little giggles could be heard causing carnage. Loki was slightly more worried about the less hardy of his children, and leaned back into the black coils with little Vali sat in his lap.

“You okay bub?”

Vali just nodded, wrapping his arms tighter around his father’s shoulders and snuggling down. Poor thing, he must be exhausted… Loki scratches over his scalp with gentle fingers, kissing his temples and letting him rest. Even Jöey was purring softly, and once you ignored Thor’s increasingly alarmed yells outside, things were quite peaceful for a second. “Narfi said you lost a tooth, huh V?”

Reaching up to his mouth, Vali pulls his lip down to proudly display the bloody whole in his gum with little bits of flesh sticking out where the tooth was. “Yeh.”

“That’s… nice sweetie.” Smile and nod, right? Just smile and nod, and try not to look too closely. “Where did your tooth go?”

“‘s here…” He sticks his hand in the pocket of his little pyjama trousers and pulls out a small baby tooth, still flecked with blood, holding it out in the palm of his hand with a tiny smile like some wee trophy-

Jöe’s tongue swipes it right out and munches it. Carnivores.

“Jöey!” Nothing’s ever easy is it. Loki smacks the scaled assailant on the nose. “That was your brother’s, you stupid slimy scavenger!”

Jöe hisses back with every one of his teeth on display, which only makes poor Vali burst into tears. Uuuuuugh…

“Vali, it’s alright sweetheart-” Loki pulls him back into his chest, partially for a bit of paternal comfort, mainly so his little one won’t see him flip off the snake. “It’s alright. Deep breaths bub…”

Jöe does seem a little bit remorseful about his snack, slithering over to bop Vali with his nose, looking at him with those big sorrowful eyes- and when that doesn’t work, vomiting up the small white pile of crunched up enamel onto his own scales.

Vali just cries harder.

“Oh Vali… my boy… it’s ok…” This time, Loki has to shift the boy a little, enough to free his elbow to give Jöe a solid thump. What was he thinking?! “We can still fix it sweetie. Look it’s all there.” In a pile of spat on crunched up white pieces. “I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

“Err, Loki,” The captain’s annoying yankee drawl cuts through the sound of crying for a moment as he hovers in the gaping entrance to the shop. “There’s a small child running around with a knife outside-”

“Yes, yes, I know, obviously.”

“Okay, well… he keeps trying to stab Thor, and he’s too short to do much damage anyway, but do you maybe want to-”

“Just tell him to aim for his thighs, that way he’ll reach.” Vali’s sniffles were getting snot all over his battle leathers by now. Did they really have to bother him with this? Narfi was hard enough.

“I more meant about Thor-”

“Captain, please, I am busy!” Thor’s yelps and Narfi’s battlecries were still playing as background noise, but Loki couldn’t really give two shits.

Jöe sees this as some kind of redemption opportunity, because before the words have finished leaving his lips, the Captain is being lightly whacked out the door by a very muscular black tail. Which he would be more mad about had it not momentarily distracted Vali. No longer in a snot and tear torrent, he actually has that weak little giggly smile on his face as the muscled chivalry incarnate gets spanked by his brother.

“Is that better little prince?” Loki stroked the hair and tears away from his eyes, watching his boys face light up at the sight. He’d happily have beaten up the captain to a bloody pulp himself to see that little smile. Vali nodded, his bright eyes finally clear of the angst they’d had before, pressing his tiny forehead to Loki’s and wrapping his arms around his head. Cradling his boy, Loki rubbed noses and smiled right back. Much better.

Unfortunately Jöe was just as needy and had to shove his massive snoot in there too, but this time at least, everyone was a little easier. The three of them just took a moment to cuddle there, wrapped in purring coils, snuggling up for a moment of quiet. And for all of two minutes, it was lovely.

A shadow comes across the front of the shop and giggles make all of them turn around- there is Thor, Narfi in one hand held by the scruff of his neck, dagger in the other. He’s completely red and out of puff, and the back of his calves are covered in nicks. For the benefit of small ears, Thor refrains from speech, and simply dumps the little one in the nest of scales that has been made before storming out, mumbling something about “moral laxatives”.

Luckily enough, by now, Narfi was also absolutely exhausted from having chased his uncle round after a night of pouch-riding and whale spotting, and curled down next to his twin in Loki’s other arm. “Papi, he’s too quick… but I tried…”

“It’s okay munchkin. Next time, I’ll teach you how to slit arteries.” Loki said, brushing his fingers down his son’s sweaty back. He was just adorable- they both were really. Two little peas in a pod, all curled up in his arms, like they used to when they were small. By now, Jöe had re-ingested the tooth from earlier, leaving the immediate vicinity vomit free, which meant all of them could settle in and relax for a moment, a little father-son time after so long apart.

“So, just to be clear… what are we doing with the snake?” Tony says, arms folded, looking on from outside. All any of the Avengers are really seeing is a mess of snake body and the back of Loki’s head.

“Leave the snake.” Thor says, his own familiar pride showing on his face as he wraps bandages around his legs. “Let them be. Loki’s had a rough time since he fell from the bifrost- he needs it.”

“Why didn’t he tell us he had kids?” The captain’s found a pair of binoculars to try and sneak a glimpse inside, figuring out what’s going on.

“I knew.”

Every eye (bar Thor’s) turned to Nat with shock. “You KNEW?!” Clint seems practically scandalised. “And you didn’t tell us?”

“It’s obvious.” Nat just smirks at them all. It’s not like she’s trained to know these things or anything. “I noticed it the way he speaks to Morgan. He’s a dad.”

Tony’s head whips back round like a boomerang. “Hang on, when the fuck was he talking to Morgan-”

Clint snorts, slapping a hand on his shoulder gently. “Jesus Tony, chill out. It’s not like they live in the same building or anything.”

"Just let them be." Thor looks a little dreamy as he takes in the scene. Okay, Jörmungandr had just caused a city-wide alert and several military leaders to shit themselves, but looking at the cuddly little bunch… they were too adorable to disturb.

"They probably won't cause anymore trouble."

"I dunno mate. Just that the GCSE spanish wasn't completely to waste." She begins chowing down on a bag of crisps (fair enough, it had been a long time since they'd last eaten), though her eyes kept sliding across to him. "Could've fooled me though. You two certainly look the pair."

"Shut up Sally." He took a handful of her crisps, partly to quench his growling stomach, partly because he didn't want to tell the truth- that he'd been thinking the same thing. Having Teddy back… he hadn't wanted to let go just now, even when he knew he was only a few rooms away having surgery. He'd wanted to keep him close, secretly with just as much fervour as Teddy had demanded when they held each other on that airstrip. He'd wanted to know the man in his arms was safe, was cared for, wasn't alone again like Roper had left him for so long… but that was just some silly sentimentality.

"'m jus' saying man… you and he were staring into each others souls. Like, you look at him with more love than my exes ever looked at me."

Now that did make a reluctant chuckle escape him. "With all due respect Sally, that bar is in hell with how low it is. You date anything with a pulse."

"None taken, ta." Eyeing him over the rim of her cup, she takes a swig on the machine dispensed coffee. It's like he can actually feel her sizing him up. "You could've just said you know. We wouldn't have laughed."

Was this really the time for mind games, he thought. "Said what?"

"That you were gay."

"I am not bloody gay!"

God, he'd love to smack that smug look off her face. "Sure, sure. So you feel nothing for the kid, hmm? Complete professionalism?"

"That's not- I-" He actually begins to stutter. No, of course it wasn't professional, none of this was professional, but what else could he have done? He'd done what he thought was right. He'd tried to save him. There was nothing wrong with that, nothing strange about wanting to protect someone innocent-

-except he wasn't innocent, was he? This was Roper's son. This boy had been at the heart of the whole thing, enabling the war that was about to erupt to be prepared for. Teddy was the most guilty of anyone besides his father. Defending him shouldn't have even come to mind. "I don't… it's not like that. I feel bad for him. He's just a kid, really Sally."

"A kid you were making heart eyes at."

"Sally, please…" He looks out the window, refusing to meet her eyes. How could he explain it when he didn't even understand it himself? Teddy could have said anything, brother, cousin, friend, father even, and yet the one he picked was 'marido'. He couldn't explain it. So he didn't. He just sat down, head in his hands, and waited.

"Senor Ellis?"

Jolting awake at the sound of his 'name', Pine found himself bolt upright- looking around for whoever had called him. A nurse in green scrubs was beckoning him over, and he left the sleeping Sally to follow her. The smell of sterile corridors and disinfectant was overwhelming by now, but he didn't care much, just shook himself out of his doze and hastened after her. He caught fragments of her speech (something about Teddy's leg and the painkillers), but he was slightly too sleep deprived to really attempt to understand. Finally, he was led into a small room, not even a ward really, just a single bed and a couple of machines- and a man.

Teddy sat there, looking still half doped, clutching a rosary with both hands while he mumbled prayers under his breath in his mothertongue. He didn't even register how close they were until the nurse laid a hand on his bruised arm, and he startled slightly, his eyes flitting to her- and then Jonathan. His whole body seemed to relax for the slightest moment, like some kind of subconscious weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and his soul lightens just a little. He nods slowly, handing back to her the wooden beads with a mumbled 'gracias' under his breath. She pockets them with a smile and leaves- and then the two of them are alone.

Neither one speaks. They just stare at each other in a pregnant silence. I mean, what are you supposed to say? What can you say? Both were thinking the same thing, that there was no logical way to handle this, and neither wanted to be the first to break.

Eventually, Jonathan found it in him to cross the room, settling on the end of the bed (carefully avoiding the splinted leg Teddy was now sporting), staring down into the floor. His voice was softer than Teddy had heard it before. "You okay?"

"…no." Fair enough. Eduardo looked away too, both avoiding the other's eyes.

"Do you want to talk?"

"I don't think I can." Came his quiet response. Teddy stared down into his lap, his fingers still running over those same burn marks- it was pitiful in comparison to his current injuries, but old habits die hard. And it wasn't like his friend didn't notice. Jonathan reached out, his hand finding Teddy's and pulling his fingers back, threading his own between them.

That -that simple, tiny action- it might as well have been a dagger to the heart to Teddy. He turned away, tears in his eyes, gulping down the pain in his voice as he tried to speak. "Matthew-"

"Jonathan." Pine corrected him. If they had come this far, then it only felt fair to them both that he be known by the name that belonged to him first. He didn't want to be his alias right now- he wanted to be himself.

"… Jonathan." Teddy's sniffles and cries were hard to contain, and his voice trembled with them as he spoke. "You- if you're only h-here because of p-p-pity, then I d-don't want you here a-at all…"

"I'm not." Fuck! Where was this coming from? His head was screaming at him to leave, to go far away, where Myra's long reaching talons wouldn't find him, but his heart compelled him to stay. "I'm not- I don't pity you Eduardo. I just want… I… I think I want you to just be okay."

The whole room dissolves into silence again, the only noises the beeping of the machines and Teddy's shaky breaths. His fingers twitch against Jonathan's palm, their usual habit prevented but still instinctive. Without anything to fill his mind, his words start to breach the nights events. "You shouldn't. I… I don't d-deserve it. I should have died with him. He was the last person to see any use in m-me, and now… I have nothing. Not my home, he has tainted that- not a father, or a family. Clara would be killed for even seeing me, I'm sure. I can go nowhere. I have no one left to turn to."

That was a sobering truth there, but not the first time he'd heard it. "If it makes you feel any better… neither do I."

"Liar." Teddy scoffs weakly, shaking his head with something that looks like pity. "You have your old life. Fancy England waiting for you. You can go back home-"

Jonathan cuts in, his own head shaking this time. "I can't."

"What do you mean?"

"My old boss, Myra… doesn't like me much." Understatement of the century. "She'd have me shot on arrival. I can't go home. I can't go back to England."

That shocked the Colombian. He sat silently, staring into the gap between them, thinking over Jonathan's words. He'd assumed -rightly or wrongly- that MI6 would come for him when it was all through. That this was just some shitty job to be cleaned up. To hear him say he had nothing too- that was the real shock. "So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know…" He sighs, leaning back on the foot of the bed. "I guess I could try going north, see if I could contact the embassy, try and get help- but it would only put another target on my back. And all my allies have been shot, assuming Roper was telling the truth. The last person I have is Sally… and you."

"Me?"

"Yeah you." He smiles weakly, squeezing his hand. It's a pitiful attempt at humour given their current circumstances. "Marido."

Teddy snots, his fingers settling into their usual rhythm, this time tracing Jonathan's palm. "I'm sorry about that. It wasn't… I wasn't thinking."

"Yet you said it. Twice." There's a question there Jonathan won't ask, but they both know what it is.

As much as Eduardo tries to just wait it out, the silence hangs heavy over them both, and he knows it has to be done. "I didn't want to let go of you. Happy?"

"Why?" It feels cruel of him to push, but there's a part of Jonathan that's genuinely aching to know (even if he'd never admit it). "Why not brother, or friend, or-"

"I don't know, alright…" He almost looks defeated, the way he seems to just deflate against the bed. "I just wanted you. I trusted- I trust you. More than anyone else right now. Even if you are a spy and a liar and you play me and make me feel like I'm tearing my heart in two- there's just something about you that I can't shake. And I could have said those things, and I don't know why I didn't. Maybe I was just… maybe I was just grasping at the thought that someone might love me."

Never before had Jonathan felt so much pain for someone. He -without thinking- shuffled down the bed, pulling Teddy close to him, rubbing his back with feather light fingertips, careful of the gashes there. And without thinking, the words he'd spent so long denying escaped his lips. "I… I love you. If that means anything at all."

"You don't love me. You can't." He doesn't even consider it. Teddy doesn't push him away, he doesn't stutter or flinch, he just says it, like it's a fact.

"No not- not… not like that. Or not how… not… I-" Fuck. How does he even explain the ache in his chest? "I just care about you. A lot. Isn't that what love is?"

But the younger man won't have it. How could he? how could anyone love him? "I don't deserve it."

"That doesn't mean I don't love you Eduardo-"

"You shouldn't!" Anger filled Eduardo, for what reason he couldn't discern, but it was like the last fight of a wounded animal when it knows it's lost but refuses to give till it's last breath. "You shouldn't love me! You shouldn't- no one should. No one could. Not even my father could. My mama died giving birth to me. My sister left me with priests. Even priests couldn't overlook my sins. I ran away to find gangs and crime and murder and hate, and I've killed people, so so many people and the blame is mine. And then you and my father tear me apart like wolves with a corpse, and now he's gone too, and you think I still deserve some kind of salvation?!"

Barely had he finished his tirade before he burst into tears, streaming down his face, and hiccuping sobs from his mouth. It was, to him, an inescapable truth. No one truly loved him. No one could. No one ever would. He would repel any kind of affection that came his way, not because it was untrue, but because it couldn't last.

And Jonathan can't do anything. He can just sit there, holding him, feeling this man -boy, really- break apart in his arms. Teddy has truly buckled under everything, and there's nothing Jonathan can do except hold him, and wait.

It takes a long while before Teddy's sobs settle, and he's left laying there, exhausted and drained and thoroughly beat. Jonathan slowly speaks up, his words more a confession than anything else- "My turn?"

Teddy just nods.

He takes a second to collect himself, and speaks- "I thought, when the plane came and it was empty, I thought you'd betrayed me. I thought you'd sided with Roper, I thought you'd intentionally lead me down the wrong path. I thought he'd clawed you back-"

"But I didn't!" He cries, panic in his voice.

Jonathan simply nods, pulling him closer, resting their foreheads together- god, he was practically cradling Teddy now, the way they'd curled against each other. "I know, I know. Just listen. "I thought you'd betrayed me, and I was so fucking petrified- but I was scared for you. I didn't care about the cargo, or the weapons. I cared about you. I knew how cutthroat he was, I knew how brutal he could be, and I knew he'd be completely callous in his attempts to use you. That's why I panicked. "I'm no saint Eduardo. There was some truth to the story I told you on the boat. I was actually in the army- not as intelligence, but I went to Iraq and back twice. I'm not a spy by trade, I know how hard it is to move on from a past so full of blood. But I did it. I spent ten years just keeping my head down, managing hotels, moving from place to place to avoid coming home- it doesn't leave you. It still hurts. It still wakes you up in the night in a cold sweat… but it does get easier. I promise you. And you don't have to believe me, you don't even have to like what I'm saying, you just have to trust me that this won't last forever. That life does slowly find its own normal. And that you will figure out, in time, how to handle it again."

At this, Jonathan rubs the tip of his nose along Eduardo's, tilting both their heads up, till he's looking right into his eyes. He can see right then, every fear Teddy has, every pain and hurt painted like a vision over his face. The words slip from his lips without his permission- "And I do. Love you, I mean. It's the only thing I can think that explains why I'm here-" his arms wrap around the younger man, squeezing him gently "-like this. I'm no romantic, I've actually got a terrible track record, most of my ex-girlfriends are all traumatised or in witness protection, and I can't promise I won't-"

Teddy moves and cuts him off with a press of his lips to Jonathan's. It all happens too quickly. His rambling grinds to a halt as Teddy's lips ensnare his, one simple press against each other, and every thought he just had shatters under the shock.

It's his frozen form that makes Teddy pull back, a spark of fear in his eyes. Why wasn't he kissing him? Didn't he- was that not what he meant? Was that not- oh, no, fuck. "I-I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't-"

In a flash, Jonathan pulls him straight back, his arms tightening around Teddy as he pulls him against him, his lips enveloping Eduardo's stammering ones. It takes a moment, but the two of them melt against each other, Teddy's hand finding Jonathan's cheek as Jonathan's wrap firmer around his torso. The two lay there, limbs becoming more and more intertwined, lips and tongues chasing each other, panting weakly into each other's mouths. There's this inexplicable explosion of peace within Jonathan's heart, his nerves soothed, relief rather than passion filling him as he feels the weight of his lover against him.

As for Teddy… Jonathan's lips against his make the tears in his eyes spill out and overflow. Again. He pulls away, crying softly, murmuring apologies and excuses and sorrys- only for it all to be cut short as his head is squished against Jonathan's shoulder as he's pulled tighter into the other man's embrace. He feels fingers running through his hair, a hand on his back, and lips pressing against his forehead- most of all, he feels this guilty sense of safety, this paradoxical undeserving love he's somehow got intertwined in Jon's arms.

It takes a while later, but some muffled words from Teddy prick Jonathan's ears. "What?"

"Te quiero."

God above, it was too late for him to translate in his head. He looks down at the man curled up in his arms, smiling tiredly. "What?"

... a single rose. And a chain.

"What is this?" Jonathan practically bolts over, his fingers plucking the rose from it's place. This wasn't right. this wasn't right, it was supposed to be the shipment, it was supposed to be a shipment! The last shipment. Where was it, where had it gone, where was Teddy? Had be been betrayed at the last second?

Sally came up behind him, looking over the rose itself- there was nothing to it. No note, no sign, no explanation, just a single rose, one that meant absolutely nothing at all. Just... a rose.

His heart felt like it was in his stomach. His whole body seemed covered in a sheen of sweat. This wasn't right, Teddy wouldn't have lied to him like this... "Where is it? Where the fuck is it?!"

An almighty bang from the front of the plane made everyone jump, most of all Jonathan, who practically recoiled at the sound- but there was nothing more to be happen. Nothing. There was no noise beyond that. He began pacing up and down like a caged animal, he set the other members of the team on edge. It was Sally who stepped in, the one who'd been with him the longest, though she too was clueless. "Jonathan-"

"No, where the fuck is it?! Where's the bloody shipment! Where's it gone, where... where is he... where's the shipment..." It was as though the whole world had begin spinning. Eduardo hadn't responded to any of his messages, but here was the plane, he'd clearly got them- was this a trap? Was it intercepted? Had Roper got him? Was he even alive, or had-

"What's going on?" Came a second voice, the judge from Colombia's supreme court. Before he even had the chance to snap at her, Sally cut in-

"Something is wrong here. The shipment... it's not here."

The judge just sighed, looking around at the empty container. "What about the pilot?"

The pilot! They'd forgotten, in the heat of the moment, that the pilot... all three raced to the front, and Jonathan being the most well acquainted with aircraft from his time in the military is the first one to the top, cracking the emergency lever up and pulling the door open-

The pilot was indeed there, but it became apparent what the bang from before was. His blood splattered across the seat and a hole in the back of his head where the bullet had come out of left his pierced skull limp in the seat, held up only by the seatbelt. The sight made both women retreat, and as for Pine... he stood there, observing silently, his eyes not pitiful like theirs, but darting for clues on the resting corpse. Bar the gun that had slid down into his lap, there was none.

Everyone fell silent. You could hear a pin drop. This was what the whole operation had been banking on, the whole day had been leading up to this moment, and here they were with nothing to show for it. The judge, she simply sighed, and turned to the press, ordering in spanish for them all to begin to pack up. A couple of men came with torches, looking in each corner, examining the plane, the body, the whole place... but nothing came of it. Within an hour, every man among them had packed their things and made for the city to retire, thinking it nothing more than a hoax or some kind of miscommunication- or worse, that the spy's contacts had duped him.

As for Jonathan? He sat on the tarmac, head in his hands, running ever single thing through his head. Had Teddy betrayed him? He must have. He got the message, he sent the plane... but the wrong one. He'd failed. Colombia would be in ruin. His mind ran at a thousand miles a minute, just trying to think, and think fast enough to get his way out...

"I don't want company." He murmured as he felt Sally's presence beside him, settling next to him.

"Yeah, you do."

"No, I really don't." He's about to get up and leave when he feels her hand on his arm, pulling him back down. Fucksake. "Sally-"

"No Jonathan. Not again. Not when you've been doing the same thing for so long alone." She winds her arms around him, basically holding him in place by the shoulders. "Talk. Properly."

"And say what?!" He knew better than that. He knows better than to snap at her. It's Roper he's angry at, Roper for stealing the victory, Roper for stealing Teddy... "'m sorry. I'm... I'm pissed off. I'm frustrated."

"Why?"

"Because the only way this happened is if he betrayed me. It's the only possible way the plane could have gotten here. He sent this plane here empty." God, why was this so hard? What did he care that Teddy sold him out? Like father like son. Isn't that always how it goes... he should have been better than to be so affected by the boy.

Sally beside him just shrugs. "Well... we have to do something."

"We can't." That's the crushing truth of the matter. Jonathan can't even bring himself to meet her eyes. "We failed. We fucked it up."

There's no answer for that. The two of them sat in silence a little longer, Sally trying to run over what went wrong in her mind... Jonathan mourning his "friend". Eventually, she got up again, talking to herself, posing theories, trying to search the plane, to look around... the tarmac grew silent except for her rummaging in the background.

All was still in the night air, and Jonathan was so lost in thought he didn't hear the faint humming of the helicopter until it was creeping closer. His ears pricked as the night sky was lit up by a distant light- there, in the faraway sky, one white light seemed faster and closer than the rest. And closer. And closer. It came down, decending from the sky like a hawk on prey. His heart began to beat faster and faster as the chopper descended, it's roar filling his ears as it halted on the floor fifty yards away, spraying dust and gravel in every direction.

He almost daren't walk up to it. Who would it be? Had Myra finally ratted him out, and decided it was his time? Was this a ride home, to somewhere safer? Or was this the last aid, whoever it may be, someone with an idea of how to flee from this mess. All his hoped were dashed when the door did open.

Out stepped Roper. Bizarrely, Jonathan no longer feared him- how could he? Facing a man when you have nothing to lose but yourself is not the same fear as he had before when there was so much more at stake. Behind him, two men stepped out, and between them hauled a third- and that was when Jonathan's heart really did drop.

Teddy. Bruised and battered, but still recognisably him- just. His left eye was blackened and swollen almost shut and his lip was split and bleeding down his chin. His right leg was a mangled mess even from such a distance it was obvious by the way he couldn't put weight on it. His trousers were ripped and bloodied, and where his shirt had been torn clean off there were marks all along his back that only some kind of belt or whip would have left. His whole body sagged, and as Jonathan ran closer, he could hear pained whimpers leaving him as he was dragged along behind.

"Not so fast Andrew!" Roper called out, pulling a gun from his holster, forcing his advance to a halt. "You just calm down ol' boy. I've got something I need to talk to you about."

His heart was pounding faster than ever in his chest, his breath coming in pants and gasps as he tried his best to get his brain up and running. Sheer instinct was screaming at him to go and and run into them all, to take Teddy back, to hold him again, keep him safe, help him- but he had enough sense to heed Roper's warning.

There was a smirk on the older man's face. "Good boy. You finally did as your told. You know, if you'd have just done it a couple of weeks ago... I could have paid you off and you'd be sipping cocktails in the Barbados, far away from all this nonsense. But... I thought this might be a decent incentive to do what I tell you to." He doesn't even look, flailing the unarmed arm behind him to strike Eduardo in the face, where another pained grunt escapes him. Fuck. Jonathan's heart was pounding as he marched forwards, making a last attempt to look somewhat calm.

"I'm sure we can come to an arrangement." He said, his arms raised just slightly above his head. "I'm not an unreasonable man. We both know that."

"Hmm..." Roper steps forward, casual in manner, like he's addressing a friend- but that same venomous glint resides in his eye. "Mr Pine, Mr Birch, Mr Ellis- not one was reasonable. Not one of them knew when to just call it quits. I don't expect you've changed."

Don't let him under your skin, he thought. It's what he wants. He knew better than to rise to it with Teddy's life on the line. "What do you want Dickie?"

"Not much... just those documents you stole from my safe. Then all my loose ends are nicely tied up." He sauntered over till he finally came to a half, stood in front of Jonathan like old friends. "You wouldn't happen to know where they were, would you?"

"Burr, I'd imagine." It was a quick response. Too quick. He was playing for time, and everyone knew it. Jonathan looked over at his bloodied friend, his face an unnatural mask. "I can find them, if you really need, perhaps... for an exchange?"

"What? For my runt?" Jonathan's blood boiled at that, though the only trace of his anger was in the fire in his eyes that sparked- one his rival revelled in. Roper's hand found Eduardo's chin, grasping it and pulling him forwards with his nails digging into the boys jaw- his voice was hoarse as he cried out in pain, whimpering and gasping, his hands gripping Roper's arm trying to claw his father's hand away from his skin. "For this dog that mopes around after me, like a useless puppy at my heels?"

"Don't- let him go." His hands itched to punch that smirk or Roper's face, but he couldn't- not yet. He couldn't.

It was as though his thoughts were written on his forehead the way the elder man chuckled. "You stupid fucker. You genuinely care, don't you? you really think this boy-" His fingers tighten, eliciting another cry from Teddy's broken voice "-you think he is worth something? Stupid bastard couldn't even send me a fucking plane. And you are standing here bartering for him?"

"Just let him be, alright?" He was shaking now, really shaking, and even though he tried to disguise it, his voice broke with desperation. Why was he pleading? Roper was right. Teddy wasn't important anymore, he should be saving his own neck. "Just let him be, send him away. You can take me hostage. Burr would come for me, but she wouldn't come for him."

"Burr is dead." He looked far too smug to be saying it so bluntly. "She was shot this morning, in her Alpine holiday home. Her daughter wasn't best pleased."

Fuck. He didn't even have time to absorb the blow, he had to keep going, to keep trying. Think fast, think fast... "Well, she'll have given them to Rex."

"Also dead. Last week, as a matter of fact. Myra took care of him." He was practically revelling in it now, his eyes gleaming. "You, Jonathan Pine, are the last man standing. So tell me... where did you put the paperwork?"

Was the air thinning, or was it just him? He felt as though he might not be able to breathe, the whole world seemed to be tilting on it's axis. Was Roper bluffing, and they were still alive? Not in his nature. No, it seemed he was telling the truth. There was no one left. Not Burr, not Rex, not Myra...

Sally.

Sally was still there. She was in the plane. She would have seen the helicopter. She would have realised. She hasn't come out, which means she's hiding. She's probably finding help. If she had any sense... all he needed to do was stall for time. "And if I don't have it anymore?"

"What, you think I'd believe you misplaced it?" Roper scoffs, no longer stood in front of him, but actively doing laps while his men hold Teddy's battered body in front of them all like an omen- god his heart ached to look, so he didn't even try. "No. You know exactly where that copy is, now tell me, where is it."

"I sent it to Burr. By post." Come on, just keep stalling. How long could it take? "If it wasn't at her house when she was killed, I don't know where it would be."

Jonathan could feel Roper behind him. Like a vulture hanging over him, Pine could feel his hot breath on his ear as he hissed. "Are you fucking kidding me? You expect me to believe you sent the most explosive documents the british government has by Royal fucking Mail?"

"Perfectly untraceable. Unless you want to sift through every single piece of mail headed to France from Colombia." He just had to keep calm. He couldn't break now, just a little bit longer. "You won't find it Richard, not until it gets there- and that's hoping whoever does find it doesn't hand it straight into the French authorities."

"You're lying." Ropers hand lands on Jonathan's shoulder, twisting him around in one sharp burst, till they're stood nose to nose. It's no longer power or pride gleaming in his eyes, but white hot fury. "You wouldn't be that reckless."

"What other option did I have? Anything else would have been too obvious. Myra has her fingers in a lot of pies, but even she can't search thousands of letters." Just a few more minutes. That all he had to do. A few more minutes, and Sally's backup would come through- so close to Roper he would have surely broken, but this steely reserve within him was holding fast.

There was a moment where neither of them moved. Each one staring into the other's eyes, pure hatred fuling both of them, and there rivalry seemed to boil down to only this- the two of them, in this abandoned airstrip. So close they could both taste victory, only to have fallen at the last hurdle. Roper breaks first, turns away, chuckling to himself, and though his eyes show only anger, his voice speaks with some sense of sombre poetry. "And so it comes to this... you seduce my girlfriend, you kill my most loyal friend, you steal my empire, you leave me to the dogs, you hunt me halfway across the world, you worm your way into my new business, you turn my own blood against me... I should have done this long, long ago Jonathan."

He turns on his heel, the pistol in his hand held aloft, pointing at Jonathan's head. This was a fitting way to kill him, he thought, dead at last, how he deserved- no, he deserved suffering, he deserved agony for the way he'd destroyed the empire I'd built, so thought Richard. But this at least, knowing he would die far from home, no glory or winners, nothing at all, but a body on a slab of old concrete in the middle of a Colombian desert-

BANG!

Jonathan heard a scream behind him, Teddy's broken voice, and he didn't even move, just braced himself for unfeeling death, for the bullet Roper fired, for his final moments, his life flashing before his eyes, and at least he couldn't hurt Eduardo anymore, at least his life couldn't cause any more suffering... but no impact came.

He opened his eyes. He'd shut them too early. The gunshot didn't come from Roper's gun.

Sally's head poked out of the back of the cargo plane, holding the same gun the pilot had in his lap. As for who she'd been aiming at- Roper's body lay slumped on the floor. His head bent at an unnatural angle, crumpled there still as a rock, eyes staring straight into the night sky unblinking. There was a wound at the side of his head with red pooling out of it onto the cold grey stone.

Everything happened at once. The two men Roper had brought with him turned and ran, hauling Eduardo along beside them while he screamed and bucked in pain. Jonathan reached for the gun Roper was holding and ran after them. Nothing but pure adrenaline was racing through his veins as he took aim-

BANG! One of the henchmen stumbled, clutching his arm as he went crashing down to the floor, only to claw his way back onto his feet- but too late. Jonathan barged into him, sending him sprawling to the ground, and his accomplice seemed to realise there was no way he could escape alone hauling another man. He threw Teddy down, the poor boy crying as his back hit the ground and his already broken leg was smashed into the floor. Both accomplices made their way back to the helicopter- but Jonathan was no longer interested. He let them run -what good were those fools to him?- and stayed behind, kneeling down beside Teddy.

It seemed to be instinctual, his immediate embrace of his friend, pulling him off the cold ground as gently as he could manage and into his arms. He was crying- no, they both were, tears running down their faces, hands grasping at each other's clothes, Eduardo's sobs in his ear as he clung to the man, trying to hold him without aggravating his bruises all the more. "Didn't I tell you? I told you I'd come back for you. I wasn't going to leave you Teddy, I'd never leave you."

"Matthew... you... you c-c-came..." His voice was still croaky from his screams from before, shredded under Roper's harsh treatment- but now, in this moment, it was the tenderest he's ever heard words pass his lips. "You... I... I thought... I thought you h-h-hated me... you'd left me t-there... e-everyone leaves..."

"I'm not leaving." He can hear Sally's footsteps, yells, sirens, but none of it matters right now- Teddy in his arms. He did it. He protected him. It's gonna be okay. "I'm not leaving Eduardo. I'm here. I'm gonna fix this, I promise you."

Behind him, there echoed footsteps of the paramedics, and police- one rested a hand on his shoulder, another crouched behind Teddy, taking him by the arms, speaking softly as she tries to coax him away. "Senor, tienes que dejarlo marchar-"

"No." He wrap his arms tighter around Jonathan, the panic in his voice clear as day. "No, you can't make me. I'm not letting him go. No puedo hacerlo."

Gently she tries again, firmly pulling his arms away from Jonathan, though her voice calm but firm. "Senor, neccesitas porque-"

"Es mi marido!" He's panicing now, blurting out anything he can think of and everyone can see it- Jonathan included, even when the language evades him. This time, the brit pulls him closer, his arms tightening firmly around Teddy's waist with a sharp look to the paramedic. She seems to get the message and backs off a little, letting Jonathan take the reins.

Eduardo came forward, settling on a chair opposite, his fingers still absentmindedly tracing the burns that had been branded onto his wrists. It was an unfortunate habit he's been displaying more and more of these days- and Roper had noticed. Even such a poor excuse for a father as him could see the tells in his son's behaviour. It was yet another piece of evidence he filed away in the back of his mind. "My dear boy... there's something we need to talk about. Something that should have happened."

Teddy nodded in response. Good. He's listening and he's quiet. That was something at least. "I have been meaning to speak to you about the cargo tonight. The one that landed an hour ago... the shipment. It's all been very smooth tonight." "Thank you." Lord, what was this? He had to force a smile, trying to appear with the ease he had before all this had happened, when he was still enamoured with Richard. Tonight was supposed to have gone terribly. Jonathan had told him as such- he'd still not responded to the messages, but they kept coming, one after the next, a mix if simple updates and reassurance, all from burner phones that disappeared without a trace before too long. He'd done everything Jonathan had asked. Everything. He'd sent the plane to the wrong coordinates, he'd lied to the head of the army, he'd done everything he could to sabotage this whole thing. But the plane had landed an hour ago, and with it, a bright red container. So why was he here, when the cargo had arrived, and Roper was sat looking like a statue.

"Very smoothly." Roper said, leaning back to observe Teddy. "Except for one thing."

He lent forward, his eyes fixed on Teddy, and for the first time, he let the thrill of the chase, the true cutthroat creature in him out. "The plane that landed here tonight... it has the cargo in it."

"...yes." Teddy was sweating. Of course it had the cargo in it. Of course it did! Jonathan had clearly failed in whatever ridiculous plan he'd been messaging him about. He'd been wrong to trust him all along. He'd realised that by now. He'd realised that an hour ago when the plane landed and his hopes of finally being free of this all took off. "What else would there be?"

"Did you check, before you sent that plane off, what the contents were?" His eyes were glinting now. He could see the sweat on Teddy's brow, could practically hear his heart thumping. Teddy nodded slowly. "You did? You physically opened the container and checked the weapons were inside?"

"Of course." A lie. But he knew that it was here now, and he knew it was what Roper wanted to hear.

Roper leaned back in his chair, looking over his son with piercing eyes. "Oh, Teddy..." The pity in his voice was a mockery. "There were two planes, dear boy. Two. Not one."

Eduardo's heart dropped like a stone. Two planes. What the hell did he mean, two planes? "What?"

"What, you think I'd have left you in charge? After your little cock up with our dear friend Mr Birch?" A callous laugh escaped his mouth. "Eduardo, my darling boy, you are sorely mistaken. Everything has been in hand. The plane I left you with was an empty carrier- a second flight. Used to put people of the scent if they got too close to finding out what was really happening- but you took care of that for me, didn't you? You made sure everyone's eyes were on the wrong plane."

"I- I don't understand, I don't... I don't understand." His whole face had dropped. It was slowly dawning on him, but that was impossible- Roper wouldn't have known what he was planning. He couldn't have done.

"Teddy, I thought you had more brains than this- the plane, the one you arranged, the one you were supposed to be in charge of, the one you were told to bring to this location is not here. It was a plane with an empty container in. It was a dummy for the inteligence to chase after if they became a problem, and it was also a test for you, to see whether you would even notice. A simple, simple test, to see whether you could follow the most basic instructions of transport this from A to B. And not only have you failed to deliver me an empty plane-" It's now that he stands up, heading to the front of the tent, unzipping it to reveal the jungle outside, and the quiet night sky with no sign of an aircraft overhead. "You have failed to produce a plane at all. Which means one of two things. Either, there is a pilot up there getting shot down by intelligence for transporting illegal weapons, or -the more likely option- you have just sent an empty plane into their hands."

Shit. Shit, shit, shit! This couldn't be happening. Teddy's eyes searched Roper's looking for the joke, for the punchline, for the gimmick- but found nothing but grim disappointment. Frozen in place, he could do nothing but stare, his whole body gripped with fear. Shudders began to run through him as Richard sauntered closer, and closer, and closer...

"Oh, my dear boy." It was nothing more than a trick, Teddy knew that in his head, but he didn't want to acknowledge it. He didn't even fight as he felt a hand at his throat, or the barrel of a pistol pointed to the back of his head. There was no fight left. This, to him, was probably what he deserved. He'd betrayed his morals, his faith, his god, his upbringing, to become a part of his father's world; and then, at the last minute, he'd betrayed that too.

"Why did you do it?" Richard's voice was low and almost resigned, like this was just one more chore for him, one more unwanted problem to face.

And it was a fair question. He'd done it... and for what? Nothing. No good came of it. He didn't stop a thing. He'd only contributed to his own demise if anything. He'd known if it went wrong, then that would be it. So why had be done it? "Why did you never tell me I had a brother?"

For the first time tonight, Roper was genuinely surprised. "How do you know- oh."

And then all the pennies dropped. Who else would have known about Danny? Who else would have been able to worm his way into his operations? Who else would have been able to make a fucking plane disappear? "Pine."

Head hung in shame, Eduardo nods. He knows when he's beat. He knows the game is up. "He said he'd protect me... that he'd help me. It wasn't about you. It was... he said he'd come back for me."

There's a scoff from behind him as Roper hears him out. "Fat fucking chance. Pine hasn't told the truth in his life. He's a lying bastard through and through, anything to get his paws on the information he wants. He's been using your from the start, boy. Don't get it twisted."

"Who hasn't?" Teddy spits back. "So have you. So has everyone. You've been using me as a way to pay off your debts. You were always going to leave me here, to rot alone, while you run off back to England to be with your other son."

Fuck. The news hit Jonathan like a blow to the chest. Yet another casualty of his recklessness, another victim of his unyeilding morals. Roper hadn't had much trust in her to begin with, of course he hadn't, but it was Roxanna who had been his instrument to route them out, and he had duped her in that car park… and caused her death sentence. Would it have been better to have been caught? To have faced Roper head on? Surely not, he would have been shot, but couldn't he have saved her, picked a car further back, given her a chance to run at least, or told her to get in… he could have saved her. Perhaps. But then, they all could have died…

And yet what snapped him out of his own self pity was not the thought of Roxanna's death, but the noise of Teddy's shaky breath as he tried to compose himself. Guilt was painted on his face clear as day, and though he'd done well to contain it, the tremors in his hands didn't lie. "Hey…" Jonathan reached his arms out, pulling him closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "It's… it's not your fault Eduardo. It's not."

"She died… because of what I told you. My tip off." He couldn't even look at him, not even as Jonathan's hands cupped his cheeks, forcing his head up. "It was… the blame is mine too, it's not… she shouldn't have died Matthew, she shouldn't-"

"I know." He just nodded. There was nothing more either of them could have done. "I know. I know, but that still… it's still not your fault. You helped me. You saved me. You- I owe you that. I would be full of lead by now if you hadn't warned me. You did what you thought was right. She allied herself with Roper, we both know that." Even as he's saying the words, there's a part of Jonathan who knows it's not true. Who knows that despite it all, there was still a mostly innocent woman -a woman he had told he would protect- who was probably sunk at the bottom of a lake somewhere. He shakes too as he pulls Teddy in, his head buried against his shoulder as he wraps him in a tight hug. I have to protect this one. I have to. It's his last chance at redemption from this now.

Teddy clutches him back, and before he knows it, there's wet tears dampening his shirt. It's one thing to focus on that it's the guilt, the feeling, however bittersweet and undeserved, of the comfort of the younger man in his arms, to know that they both, at least for now, are safe.

"Come on."

Jonathan pulls back, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and clearing his throat awkwardly. They only had so long before Roper got suspicious, and if Roxanna had been telling the truth before she died, Jonathan knew they didn't have long before Richard's overactive mind began to wonder where his son had gotten to. "You have to go back Teddy."

"I can't go back there," came the almost knee-jerk reply. Teddy didn't even hesitate, he just kept his tight grip on Matthew's arm. No. He couldn't go back. How could he? After everything? After he knew the truth? "You know I can't. I can't. What if he tries to talk to me? What if he finds out?"

God above, what was happening. Jonathan shook his head, trying gently to prise his hands off him. He didn't want to let Eduardo go, of course he didn't, but there was still the rest of the mission, still guns and a shipment and the rest of Colombia to handle. Fuck, he knew better than this, better to let his emotions rule him, but at the same time, he couldn't bear the pleading eyes his friend was giving him. "Teddy-"

"Matthew, please, please, my friend, please, you cannot leave me like this-" It was astounding. His grip was harder than iron, how quickly his mind had warped his whole world into this frenzy. His world had flipped. Of course he knew. He knew in the logical part of his brain exactly who his father was, he'd known all along- arms smuggler, drug dealer, Richard Onslo Roper, a man who was not to be crossed or fucked with. But his heart had longed for the man in the black car, who would pick him up and smile teasingly and ruffle his hair when he showed him around. Who would correct his English, bring him foreign sweets and adventuring tales and now… in one phone call, that illusion shattered. The separation in his head of the man his father was and Richard Roper had been smashed irreversibly. This was not the man who he could go home to. This was not even the shadow of the father he'd thought he'd known. "Matthew, you can't… you can't please…"

His heart ached. Jonathan Pine, and here he was, tears welling up in his eyes for the son of his sworn enemy. He knew he didn't really want to push Eduardo away, but what choice did he have? "I'll come back for you. Just lay low, finish transporting the cargo-"

Panic set in at once. Never had Teddy felt so alone. Not even the idolised ghost of his father was there to comfort his thoughts anymore. His legs felt shaky as fear overtook him faster than logic, his heart racing in time with the torrent of thoughts. "No, no, please… amigo, please, no me dejes… please don't go…"

"Teddy, you have to listen-" It was no use. Jonathan darted forwards as his legs gave out, catching the poor boy in his arms and hauling him against him, gripping his waist as Teddy cried and pleaded desperately. He stumbled with them both back to lean his back against the car, steadying the younger man with what strength hadn't left after the exhausting day, "I've got you. I've got you. I'm here, alright? I'm here…"

The two of them stood there for a long while, Teddy trembling like a leaf in the wind, and Jonathan just stood trying to bear the brunt of the storm for him. Too long had passed before his sobs finally quietened. Eduardo wiped his eyes, mumbling some apology that was barely audible, but didn't deter Jonathan's hold on him. Silently, the brit was the one who led them both into the car, settling in the drivers seat and turning the ignition. He drove them both as far at the circumstances allowed, and heavy-hearted pulled in to a shop car park on the outskirts of Medellin.

Neither one knew what to say. They both sat in silence, looking out at passers by with their shopping bags and groceries. Neither one wanted to break the silence first, to say what they both knew to be true.

"I will come back for you." Jonathan whispered weakly. Even to his own mind, he sounded like a traitor. He had to protect Teddy. He had to. But Roper would get suspicious if his boy was away for too long. They would both be hunted down like vermin, again. "I will Teddy. Believe me. I will not leave you in his talons. Once this is all over, I'll come find you, and I make it all right. Trust me."

… Teddy just nodded. Did he believe him? Not really. He wanted to, but as the world had just harshly reminded him, what he wanted to believe and what was true was two very different things.

The silence streached on a few moments more before Teddy readed for the door handle, cracking open the car door. There was nothing more to be said for him. To his mind, Jonathan was leaving him, as had Roxanna, as had everyone… and where else could he go? The place he had called home was the very place his monstrous father now resided. He'd been a fool to think anything good would come of it. He was not destined for goodness. "Good luck Matthew."