*Casually gets up at 7:30 AM on a Sunday so I can write a chapter before church because I don't have any other time today.*

I think I wrote this thing in record time, about an hour and a half. 

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Chapter Thirty-One: Raw Anger and Pain

When I leave Jijah's room, I feel a little lighter. Like helping Jijah had made me realize I actually have a point to this dang universe.

After checking on me, Videl had left Jijah and me, but I find him pacing in the hallway two feet away. I close Jijah's door, since he'd wanted to be left alone for a while.

Videl's face looks blank, which is unusual. Usually, I can read him like a book. But he's leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed, amber eyes watching my face like I'm probably watching his.

Then, he says, "Thank you."

I shrug.

"You didn't have to do that, you know," he says, following me down the hallway towards the commons.

"You didn't have to save my life last year either," I reply.

Videl apparently doesn't have a reply for that. But while I pass right through the commons, he stops and collapses on the same sofa Amara is lounging on, and puts his hand to his head.

I don't have to search long for Jack. He comes barrelling down the stairs just before I reach them to climb up.

"Are you all right?" he demands, staring at my bandage. "Angelique told me you were going to talk to Jijah, but did anything happen?"

"Yeah, something happened," I reply, and then say, not wanting to go into detail, "Do you want to hit the training room? Natasha and Clint are going to get back before we ever get any work in."

"Sure," says Jack. He doesn't pry about Jijah, which is something else I like about Jack. He's curious, but if he knows somebody doesn't want to talk about it, then he doesn't push. "By the way, I wouldn't bother Kyle right now. He's cranky."

"Kyle is?" I ask, surprised, "He was just helping me, and he didn't seem cranky at all. What's wrong with him?"

Jack waits until we walk up the stairs, looks around carefully, and then replies, "If you want me to be perfectly honest, which I know you want me to be, Kyle's upset about Max."

The familiar twinge that always appears when I think about Max pinches my heart.

"Well yeah," I say as casually as possible, "We all are. And it's his brother. So he's probably twice as worried."

"Uh, yeah," says Jack, "Well don't get mad at me when I say this–"

"Well this is just setting up the conversation perfectly," I say sarcastically.

"It's just that with you, Ky could just patch up and technically, you walked away and you'll be fine, and especially because of your Asgardian blood, you'll heal quickl."

I have a feeling I know this is going. My shoulders slump.

"But," says Jack, talking as fast as possible, probably to quickly finish this discussion, "With Max, he can't. He's sort of helpless. He...well, you get the point. I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry, it's not your fault," I say.

"Uh," says Jack, "Well I'm just sorry."

"Brilliant," I say.

We don't say anything until we get to the training room. We're still in our training clothes, but as Jack gets out some of the sparring sticks, considering Loki had been too mad for me to bother asking for the silver dagger, I re-adjust my ponytail, trying to at least do something productive.

Jack and I work for about half an hour, and by the end, Jack is sweating profusely and even my skin is glistening a little. I think we work this hard because we're trying to vent out as many emotions as we can, confined in this underground hideaway like rats. We also inflict a couple minor injuries on each other, mostly bruises and a couple scrapes, but we hardly notice them.

We're just finishing practicing a little archery, to calm ourselves down a little, when Loki walks inside the training room. I don't know whether to be aggravated or be glad. But he doesn't say anything, just takes leans against the doorway, arms characteristically crossed, watching Jack and me.

Although Jack likes archery and is great at it, I get bored of it rather quickly, and we go back to sparring with some of the long poles, similar to the ones Mr. Taylor had had the Fighting class use. Thinking about Mr. Taylor puts me in a slightly fouler mood, so as Jack and I swing around each other, trying to get a hit, I begin to move a little faster and hit a little hard.

Before long, Jack falls to the floor with a grunt. As I stand over him with my stick, panting slightly, I happen to glance up at Loki. His face is passive, but when he looks up at me, I can't read what's in his eyes.

I'm just helping Jack up when a voice comes from the doorway. "Jack, you better start using those wings of yours unless you want to clip 'em, kiddo."

It's Max. He'd been with Tony and Bruce most of the day, but he must be taking a break. I try not to notice how tired his glassy eyes are, or how pale his normally tan skin is.

"Oh yeah, thanks," mutters Jack, shaking his hair from his face. "In my defense, you weren't here to see me completely crush her in archery.

"Here, toss that over to me," says Max, gesturing to the stick in Jack's hand. "Let me go a few rounds."

Jack hesitates, and I stop thumping my stick in the ground. "Max," says Jack, "I don't know if that's a great idea."

"Why not?" asks Max with a blank expression.

Jack looks at me for help. I look at Loki for help.

Thankfully, Loki apparently isn't too mad at me to provide some assistance. "Max," he says firmly, "You can't possibly think you are fit to spar with my daughter."

"She might be good," says Max with an easy grin in my direction. I return it with a weak smile of my own, "But I've still got a few kicks in me."

Loki turns to sheer bluntness, "You're dying. Don't be stupid."

"If I'm dying," says Max, and for the first time, there's a hardness to his tone, "Then I might as well go a last round or two."

"Max," protests Loki, but Max doesn't listen to him. He takes the stick from a reluctant Jack and turns to face me.

"Max," I say a little timidly, trying to think of a way to say this without completely insulting him, "Loki's right. I don't think you should be doing this."

His response is to wave the stick towards me. It strikes mine with much less strength than Max normally puts on me, but I step back anyway, not wanting him to stumble and fall. I wince at every swing of his stick, putting as little effort into my blows as possible.

He sees right through this, "C'mon, Thea, put some heart into it. I'm not seven."

But you're dying.

I look up at Jack. His eyes are wide in fear. I look at Loki. His mouth is in a tight line and he's shaking his head grimly.

Just to appease Max a little, I begin to move a little faster and hit a little harder. I'm going nowhere near my normal ability, but beads of sweat are already glistening on his forehead, and I feel dread trickle into me, even worse because I'm powerless to stop it.

And then it happens. Max has just spun around, hoping to block me and hit my leg with his stick, and instinctively, I jump up so that the stick swipes under me harmlessly.

But this makes Max lose his balance. He pitches forward onto the ground, where he lies there. He begins to cough terribly, rolling over and gagging.

"Max!" I exclaim, hurrying to lower myself to his side as his body shakes and contorts to the pain ricocheting through him. I look up as Loki crouches next to us, turning Max over and taking his wrist.

"What did I tell you?" demands Loki, feeling for Max's pulse, which must be speeding right now, "What did Thea tell you?"

Max can't reply. He's coughing too hard.

When blood begins to flow out of his mouth, I cry out, my fingers trembling on the sparring stick, "Loki! Look at him, he's dying, do something!"
"He's dying already," says Loki sharply, "Both of us tried to do something for him, but he wouldn't listen."

Footsteps at the door, and hardly before I can react, Kyle has slid to his knees next to his fallen brother. "What the hell happened?" He almost shouts.

I don't get a chance to tell him, because his eyes move over to the stick in my hands. I drop it like I'd been burned.

"What did you do?!" he exclaims.

"Kyle," says Loki, "It wasn't-"

But like his brother, Kyle won't listen to Loki. Instead, he turns ferociously to me, "What were you thinking? You know he's injured, why did you go at him like this?"

"He asked me to! I tried not to!"

"Then you should have just walked away like a sane person," says Kyle, his voice raising over Max's hacking coughs. "Instead, you had to go and be a damn freaking idiot!"

He doesn't really say 'freaking'. I feel hurt slam me like he'd slapped me.

"Kyle!" Loki's voice is hard.

Ferociously, Kyle keeps going at me, ignoring Loki, getting louder and louder, "For once, could you act like an adult and make a decision? He's dying! I know you with your perfect Asgardian blood couldn't understand that concept, and maybe that's why you're so stupid, but not everyone's invincible, Thea!"

He's practically screaming at me now, holding tightly to his brother as Max continues to cough up blood.

Hot anger flows through me, anger and fear for the dying man in front of me, and before I know it, I've jumped to my feet, and now, I'm screaming too.

"Then maybe you shouldn't have been a hero and tried to get the Compass! If you hadn't, then maybe Neidra wouldn't have tried to kill you, and maybe Max would be kicking your ass right now instead of dying!"

"Thea," says Loki quietly, his hand on Max's forehead, but I don't listen to him. I'm too mad.

Kyle sits back, his eyes snapping fiercely, trying to disguise the hurt. "Then you shouldn't have brought us to that mansion. The last time someone tried to help you there, he got stabbed to death too, maybe you should have learned your lesson."

"Ky...Kyle..." groans Max, temporarily able to speak before beginning to cough again, clutching his fists.

Neither Kyle nor I is listening to either Max or Loki.

"You shouldn't have gone after the Compass, Kyle!"

"And because I did, that Compass saved your life, so maybe think about what you're saying!"

"I don't know," I shout back, "Maybe if I just went ahead and died because you didn't get that Compass and Max would be fine, maybe that would make you feel better! You know what, it probably would, then I wouldn't be here killing your brother and screaming in your damn freaking face!"

I don't say 'freaking' either.

Kyle's jaw works ferociously.

At that moment, Clint walks in the room. Not registering what's going on, he says, "Hey, guys, we're back and we brought most of your stuff back from Umber for you two and–oh my God, is Max okay?"

"Ask Kyle, I'm sure he'd love to tell you!" I shout, and then push past him and out of the room.

*

I stalk into my room, slamming the door behind me so loudly, my ears ring. My ears are already ringing, from the fighting, from the crying, from Max and Kyle and Neidra and everyone. My blood is pumping, but not in a way that's healthy or invigorating. Nope, my heart is just beating quickly from raw anger and pain.

There's nothing much in the room, but I make the most of it. I throw the bowl against the wall, shattering it into about a hundred pieces, and then kick up my bag, letting everything spill: photos, my phone, everything. I throw my dagger into the wall with a short scream, letting it bite into the wall with a thud.

Grabbing my headphones, I plug them into my phone and them slam them on my head before throwing myself down onto the bed. I pick out the loudest, most emotional song by Evanescence and close my eyes, letting the music pound through my skull. I'll probably get a migraine. I don't care.

The music makes me want to scream and cry all at the same time, just like all the emotions I'm feeling. Closing my eyes, I feel a few tears trickling down my cheeks, and I grit my teeth in fury, slamming my fist against the wall. The pain feels good. I hit the wall again.

I'm about to hit the wall for the third time when someone grabs my tightly clenched knuckles. My eyes snap open. It's Loki.

He looks tired, his eyes drawn and his thick black hair messy around his face. His shirt hangs low around him, so that I can still see some of the knife marks Neidra had left on him a year ago.

I sit up, tearing my hand away from his, and slouch against the wall, the music still vibrating through my ears. His lips move, but a herd of mustangs could go rushing through Minotaur, and I wouldn't be able to hear them.

Loki reaches forward and takes the headphones off of my head. "That music is very loud, Thea," he says. He's using the half-patient, half-accusatory tone that I hate.

I turn off the music with my phone and then throw the phone across the puny room. Loki glances at the dagger that is still stuck in the wall, and then looks back at me. He moves to sit, and I shake my head, "Go away, just please go,I need to be alone right now."

Loki looks like he is almost about to smile, which makes me even more mad, and sits down on the bed across from me. "You should know by now that I never just 'go away', do you not, pet?"

I curl my lip and look away, towards my dagger, saying, "I'm just going to keep saying it until you go."

"But you don't really want me to go."

I fight to keep my face passive, still looking at the dagger, "Yeah, okay."

Loki reaches forward and puts his hand on my cheek, which is drenched in tears of anger. Wiping my face gently, he says, "What happened?"

"You were there," I snap, "You know what happened."

"I know what happened with Kyle," says Loki, moving forward to sit closer to me. He points to my heart, which is probably still thumping way too fast, "I want to know what happened in here."

I throw my hands up in the air, "What the hell are you talking about? You know, I just tried to tell Max that it was a bad idea, and then Kyle had to walk in to see his brother like that, and then there's Neidra, and it just exploded, and I'm going to lose Max any freaking day now, and I can't deal with that, Daddy, I just can't deal with it!"

And then I'm sobbing, and his arms are around me, and I'm crying out all of my pain into his chest. He strokes my hair the way he always does when I'm upset, and holds me for a long time.

"Thea," he murmurs, as I keep crying, "Thea, I promise it will be all right, I promise, kitten."

"No it won't! It won't! Max is going to die, and Kyle hates me now, and why, why, why damn WHY?!"

"Shh, shh, darling, Kyle doesn't hate you, you know that. He is going through the same emotions that you are feeling, and neither of you completely know how to deal with these feelings."

"Oh, and you do?" I demand, pulling away from him and glaring up at him, "So I guess you just know how to flip the emotions switch and deal with it!?"

"I've had five hundred years to learn," he says quietly, "And if you want me to, I can help you."

"I don't need help with me," I say fiercely, "I need help killing Neidra."

"I know," he says, keeping ahold of me like he's afraid I might just fly away now, which I just might. "And I know, and Jack knows that you didn't mean for what happened to Max. And Kyle probably knows it too. He's in turmoil, just like you are."

"Then I want to get out of turmoil."

"That's not how life works. Life always has turmoil, whether it's always constant or not. Thea, Kyle is in pain right now, like Jijah. Imagine if I were slowly dying. You'd react much the same way as he did, would you not?"
"Yeah, I would," I say, because it's true.

"Kyle hasn't quite faced the reality that his brother will not grow old with him, and probably not see his and Emmaline's children." He pauses, "I'm not saying what he just did was right, because it wasn't. No matter how much hurt a person feels, he shouldn't bring another person to share his pain."

"I wish nobody had to feel pain," I say bitterly.

"Pain is part of life."

"I wish it weren't."

Loki can't seem to find something to say to that. Instead, after a few moments of qiet, he says, "Earlier, when you wished to go talk to Jijah, and I refused, but could do nothing about your tenacity, Thea, I want you to know something."

"What?"

"I want you to know that I am very proud of you. I saw Jijah, and saw the writing on his wrist. What you did helped to bring another person to peace, or to at least acknowledge it. But more to the point, you saw an opportunity to think for yourself, and in your doing so, I realized just how much you've grown up. Didn't you use to quake at everything I said sharply at you, either that or throw a fit when you wouldn't get your way?"

I shrug.

"But now, now you're speaking boldly, but with confidence, confidence in what you know you must do. And that confidence is what must guide you, precious one." He lifts my chin. "Do you understand?"

I nod.

Then, exhausted from the emotions of the day, and I lean against his collarbone, and silence fills the tiny room. If I listen carefully enough, I can hear the strong, steady beat of Loki's heart. I slowly reach forward to touch his chest with trembling fingers, feeling the pulsating vibrations against my hand. He doesn't move, and I take a deep, calming breath.

The almost-blissful peace is broken when there's a short knock on the door, and Peter pokes his head in the room. He looks as tired as everyone else, but at least he smiles at me broadly, despite the worry in his eyes.

"Hey, sorry, but we're about to start. Clint and Nat got some info, and Tony and I just broke into some feeds. We've got some stuff."

"What about Max?" I ask.

Peter's shoulders fall slightly, "Ky's with him. He'll probably be fine for now."

The words for now echo around me like a boomerang caught in a small room.

:-} 

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