#no.22

You looked sharply at Tommy’s voice. He still wasn’t looking at you.

“Why?” you asked

“You… got caught in the crossfire. You weren’t fucking meant to be there.”

Ah, yeah, that.

Finally Tommy looked down at you. There was a hard look in his blue eyes and you shrinked back against the mattress. It was unusually soft. Softer than your one. Softer than a hospital bed. You frowned and looked around the room before realising where you were. You had been in it many times before. Slipping out quietly before any of the other Shelby’s, including Tommy, were awake. It wasn’t as though you didn’t want to wake up in his arm but it would make things complicated. More complicated than they were already.

“Why am I in your room?” you asked

“Safer.” came Tommy’s automatic reply

“I should be in hospital.”

“We had a doctor see you over.”

You tried to sit up again but cried out in pain. Tommy leaned closer and pulled back the covers slightly. You suddenly felt vulnerable under his gaze. He trailed a finger against you and when he held it up it was red.

“You tore your stitches.” he said

You looked down. Your blood was seeping through the bandages and the sight made you feel a bit queasy. Surprisingly gently Tommy lowered you back against the bed.

“It only scratched me.” you said

“It could’ve been worse,” he said, “a lot fucking worse and I’m not going to let that fucking happen to you.”

“Tommy-”

Tommy leant over you and cupped your cheeks with his hand. He brushed his thumb against your cheekbone.

“You’re going to stay right here,” he said, “where I can keep an eye on you and make sure that you won’t fuck things up again.”

You locked gazes with him and your breath hitched at the intense look in his eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes that you so loved but right now they burned. They burned with a promise that whoever had done this to you was going to pay.

“But my stitches.

  The guard nodded almost reluctantly, then waved behind him. Two more guards walked in, carrying an unconscious dark haired woman. You led them into the basement–which you had done your best to convert into a living space.

  An old bed was tucked by the stone wall, and there was a small fireplace to provide heating if necessary. You’d put a desk and chair by the other wall as well as a rug and a bookshelf you were in the process of filling up.

  The guards were clearly expecting less and glanced at each other. Though they did as you ordered and laid the woman on the bed.

  You checked a few things off for them, then saw them out and closed the door with a sigh.

  Hela had been defeated, for a second time. There was a moment when you all thought Asgard was going to be lost. She had gone on a murderous rampage and was more than willing to slaughter her own people if they did not give her what she wanted. 

  And you were all lucky you didn’t, or else she would be raging war across all the realms.

  But, thankfully, she was defeated and captured. 

  You had worked alongside Hela in her brief takeover. Not that you were evil. You actually thought yourself to have a rather pure heart.

  But she had laid eyes on you when she first returned and it was either work with her or die. You didn’t do much besides follow her around, listen to her ramble, threaten one or two people and give her the silent support she would not admit she needed. And even though it wasn’t for a long time, and she was practically the most evil person you had ever met, you found yourself almost… liking Hela.

  Of course she was an incredibly attractive woman, you would give her that. But she was also incredibly charismatic and funny and strangely charming for a villain. And when she divulged her history to you, how her father raised her to be a killing machine and then tossed her out when he didn’t want to kill anymore, you almost pitied her. It wasn’t really her fault. She was made into a war machine, she didn’t choose to be.

  The original plan after Hela’s defeat was to banish her back to Hel, but you spoke up in favor of an alternative: Keep Hela in Asgard, but as a prisoner instead.

  The only (understandable) problem, though, was that nobody wanted a murderous Goddess of Death to look after. So you volunteered and they practically threw her at you. 

  You were the only person after all that knew Hela’s true story. And even though it was foolish, you couldn’t help but hope there was some way that you could reform her, or at least help her.

  It was another few hours before she woke up.

  The first thing you heard was a gasp, followed by an angry yell, and then the sound of something falling. Maybe you should’ve bolted that bookcase into the wall after all.

  You rushed downstairs to find Hela in the middle of the room. Even without her powers she was still a terrifying force to behold. She was about to throw the chair when she saw you.

  Her hands flexed by her sides in an attempt to summon daggers–you had betrayed her after all. But nothing happened. Her hands then flew to her head and felt the lack of crown. 

  This only infuriated her more. She reached to lash out at you, and you hit the button on the remote.

  Almost immediately she crashed to the ground as her body convulsed. You regretted being so brash with the device. It was not a pleasant sight. Maybe there was some way to turn the shock down, just a little.

  As the electricity stopped, Hela caught her breath and looked up at you. She was still incredibly pissed off… but also frightened. Never before had she been the mouse to the cat. Not like this.

  “It would save you a lot of effort to remove my collar,” Hela grumbled. She shakily stood up and sat down on her bed. “Or perhaps you should just kill me. I would prefer that.”

  “I’m not going to do that.”

  “So you want to torture me then? Why, Y/n, I must have taught you well during our… brief companionship.”

  You frowned. Slowly, you tried to come closer and she bristled like a cat so you stopped. “You did teach me some things.” You sighed. “Like the idea that you deserve a second chance.” 

  That caught her off guard. Her angry green eyes clouded with confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “They were going to send you back to Hel, I talked them out of it. They’re going to let me… watch over you, I guess.”

  Hela was flabbergasted. Her jaw hung open and she stared at you. And then she burst out into the cruelest laughter you ever heard. “Are you serious? I don’t understand you, Y/n. Why take this burden upon yourself? You know I would not hesitate to kill you if I was able. I am dreaming of it now.”

  You flashed her the remote and her smug grin fell, ever so slightly. “I don’t think you’re all evil.”

  “I think you are a moron.”

  “Maybe.” You shrugged. “But this is the only option you’ve got. So… it’s either reform, or live in my basement as a prisoner until I get sick of you and return you to the castle.”

  Hela didn’t like either of those options. She stood up and you hovered your thumb over the button.

  That same fear flashed in her eyes. It was empowering but… also painful. She glared at you before slowly walking over to the desk and running her finger over the wood. “A power play.” She muttered. “The ruler becomes the prisoner to her own executioner.”

  “You don’t have to be my prisoner.”

  “You are foolish if you think I will ever be willing to reform.” Hela snarled. “Especially for you. You traitor. You left me when I needed you most, and I will not forget that.”

You smirked softly. So she did care that you switched sides, which meant she at least had some affinity for you. Hela was an incredibly lonely woman, not that she would ever admit it. You would find a way to win her back.

  “Fine.” You simply shrugged, tucking the remote into your pocket. “Be that way, then. I will bring you dinner later. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, or it won’t bother.”

  Hela grumbled unintelligibly to herself and you went back upstairs, locking the door behind you.

  She didn’t eat that night, out of protest. But the next morning when you brought her some breakfast she devoured it.

  The next few days were similar. She ate what you brought her and sulked the rest of the time. You hadn’t had to shock her yet but you carried the remote at all times. Eventually Hela took some interest in the bookshelf but always stopped whenever you came in. She growled and lashed out like a cat if you got too close. 

  It was around the fourth day that the slow progress began. You brought her a meal you remembered her mentioning that she liked. She was sitting at the desk, reading.

  When she heard your footsteps, she turned to glare at you. But when she saw what you were holding her expression softened faintly. “Is that for me?” Hela asked warily.

  “Mhm. I made it just how you like it.”

  “Oh, my last meal, and so soon.” Hela dramatically whined. “I didn’t think you would fold and poison me so easily, just another disappointment.”

  “It isn’t poisoned.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “It’s not.” You lifted the fork to your mouth and took a bite. Hela seemed unimpressed, so you took a few more and made sure to try everything on the plate. 

  Finally, she relented, though it was more reasoned by her growling stomach rather than your display. “Fine. Give it to me.”

  “Come get it.”

  Hela glared at you. “Why should I do that?”

  “Because I’m not your servant. Either take it, or I take it.” You’d done a similar trick with a feral cat once; earn trust with food. Hela knew you would feed her. Now she had to come and take it from your hand. You could only hope she wouldn’t bite the hand that fed her.

  She studied you through dark, glowing eyes. And then slowly, very slowly she came closer. Once she was within reach she snatched the plate and then retreated to her bed to eat.

  “I’m not going to hurt you.” You sighed with resign. “I’m not—I’ve never. Do you think I’m just going to whip out a knife or something?”

  “Or a fist.” Hela muttered. “Your soldiers were not kind to me in prison.”

  “They hurt you?”

  “…I forgot how badly it can hurt.” Her voice grew softer. She didn’t feel pain when she had her powers, and now just brushing too hard against the desk took her out. She was incredibly weak, even by mortal standards but she would grow stronger with time. The only problem was that Hela was not a patient person. “You can hurt me now.”

  “But I won’t.” You replied defiantly. “I’m not like them.”

  Hela eyed the remote in your pocket. “Tell me, then, what is that?”

  “Let me rephrase; I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to use this. But… I don’t trust you either.” 

  “You’d be wise not to.” Hela curled up and faced the other direction, her usual sign that told you to fuck off.

  With a sigh, you went back upstairs.

  Things changed following that day.

  Hela began willingly taking food from you, and other things too. You managed to get some genres out of her and found her some matching books. You also got her a journal that she wrote furiously in but would never show.

  Music, or more specifically CD players, was also something she took interest in. You knew someone who had smuggled some in from Midgard and got one for her. You also bought as many CD’s as you could and gave them all to her, regardless of genre or artist. 

  Hela was baffled by the invention though once she got it to work (“Y/n, the machine ate the disc. It’s broken.” “It’s not broken, just wait for the music. Do you hear it?” “…By the Gods, what is that racket?” “Let’s try another one.”) she became rather fond and rarely turned it off.

  By the second week, hanging out with Hela became a common way to pass the time.

  She started willingly talking to you, and you did the same. You showed her that you wouldn’t hurt her and she finally accepted it. Your basement was a lot better fate than what everyone else had planned. She would never admit it out loud but she was thankful for your intervention.

  There was only one time you had to use the collar.

  Hela occasionally had a bit of a sleepwalking problem. It started long before she became your prisoner, you had dealt with it as her servant, and it wasn’t good. Although Hel was her realm she still had nightmares from it, and the recent mistreatment from the guards didn’t help.

  You were woken up in the night from the loud sound of breaking wood and raced downstairs. Hela had fallen and broken her chair, though she was still unconscious, or at least not all there.

  When she heard you, she mistook you for an enemy and lunged at your throat. You buzzed the remote just as her hand touched your delicate skin. Her body convulsed and she slumped to the ground like liquid.

  “Hela,” you dropped the remote and knelt beside her. The shock had certainly woken her up at least. She blinked a few times before staring up at you, both hurt and afraid. 

  “You… shocked me.”

  “You were trying to kill me.”

  “I was?” Hela sat up with a soft groan, shoulders hitching as the last of the electricity left her body. She rubbed her forehead and gazed blearily around the room. When her eyes fell on her broken chair she shook her head. “Nightmare… I’m sorry.”

  “So am I.” You offered your hand. “Come on, let’s get you in bed, I’ll get some more water.”

  You calmed her down after that, and you could finally see your efforts were paying off. She was strangely apologetic (“I’m sorry about the chair.” “Don’t worry about it, it was just an old chair. I’ll buy another one.” “You will? Why?” “Why wouldn’t I?” “…never mind.”) and wasn’t even upset about the shock. She didn’t want to hurt you either.

  By the start of the third week you decided to try something. And you left the door unlocked.

  Hela didn’t notice.

  And she didn’t notice for the next few nights.

  Until one particular night it was storming out. 

  You were upstairs in the kitchen, putting everything away before going to bed. You had already said goodnight to Hela and weren’t paying any attention to the storm.

  As you loaded food into some containers, you heard a sound behind you. Thunder rumbled, you assigned the blame to the storm. It was windy too. The sound could’ve been anything, so you paid it no mind.

  Until a cold hand grabbed your shoulder.

  Whirling around, you shoved off whoever was behind you. Hela fell back into the cabinet with a grunt. You quickly reached for the remote and were about to shock when she cried out.

  “Don’t!” She sounded genuinely terrified. The two of you stared at each other, a silent standoff. She was the first to break it, quickly composing herself and standing up. “Please, don’t…”

  You glanced between her and the remote. She was panting. You were too.

  “I just… I realized the door was open. I thought… never mind.” Hela said cautiously. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m not… a fan of thunder.”

  You frowned. “You’re scared of thunder?”

  “I didn’t say I was scared of it, I said I didn’t like it.” Hela mumbled and crossed her arms. Her shoulders tensed and she sighed. “…Thunder was a bad omen in Hel. Bad things happened when you heard it and… I guess I’m having a hard time accepting that it’s okay here.” Hela ran her fingers along the collar on her neck. “And I do not like the God of Thunder either.”

  Slowly, you set the remote down. Then you sighed and rubbed your forehead. Of course she wasn’t going to hurt you, you felt bad for assuming so. Hela had changed, she was trying to prove it to you. It was your turn to believe her.

  “Do you want to stay with me for a bit?” You offered and gestured to the living room. “I was planning to read for a while anyway.”

  Hela hesitated. “You’re sure?”

  “Mhm..” you smiled faintly. “I don’t like storms either.” You didn’t mind thunder but you thought it would help her feel better. “You can bring your CD player and we can block out the thunder.”

  Hela thought that over and then slowly nodded. “Okay.” She agreed. Anything was better than being alone during this.

  The two of you sat in your living room on the couch and read quietly for a while. Hela’s music of choice, a soft rock album, blocked out the worst of the storm. Though she progressively scooted closer to you at every rumble.

  It was all so strangely peaceful. 

  You’d grown to enjoy Hela’s company, even if you’d never admit it. She was the same.

  When she finally fell asleep, you draped a blanket over her and left her to rest. You didn’t trust her completely yet but you trusted her enough to let her stay upstairs for the night.