Chapter 42
Thor had decided he needed to play host and gotten up to make food for Loki, despite his protestations. Loki followed him over to the large industrial refrigerators where his brother proceeded to pull an assortment of ingredients out to make sandwiches.
Thor started with a number of meats and cheeses, then also took out containers of both potato salad and macaroni and cheese. He then begrudgingly retrieved a few vegetables at Loki’s insistence.
Loki watched with a look of quiet uncertainty as Thor began to pile his sandwich high, microwaving the mac and cheese before adding both that and the potato salad onto the sandwich.
When he was satisfied Thor began to make one for Loki, but his younger brother cut in, opting to make it himself. Thor chuckled at Loki’s fussiness as he carefully made a small sandwich with only mozzarella, tomatoes, and a few leaves of basil, which he conjured.
The two returned to the table and ate in relative silence, Thor making happy sounds of enjoyment as he devoured the huge sandwich and Loki politely eating his caprese.
Thor looked amused and somewhat fond at the way his brother was still so precise and put together despite all he’d been through. The meal reminded him of their youth, and of Loki’s fastidious and discerning nature which he had so often mocked back then. He had forgotten how much he missed that about him, the little things which made him unique.
Even at feasts when everyone ate and drank uproariously, Loki’d still held some modicum of composure and civility. He never made a mess of himself, the smashing of goblets his only sign of drink. Thor would never have guessed back then how endearing that memory would come to be.
“I missed you, brother…” Thor said in a voice much quieter than his usual.
Loki looked up at him with slight surprise, “I missed you too… when I was lost in the void, I met another me, an older version… he told me his story, and how he had come to miss his brother. It hit me then how much I had avoided thinking about it.”
Loki looked at him with a strange sort of rueful amusement, “You were easy to resent, brother. Always the favored one… But it didn’t make me feel any better—pushing you away. It just made me feel more alone, and I’m sorry.”
Thor smiled with watery eyes, “I wish things could be like they were… the two of us side by side against the galaxy… perhaps one day our paths shall intertwine once more, like the branches of Yggdrasil.”
Loki smiled softly with a hint of sadness as he considered the idea, “I hope so.”
Meanwhile, at the coffee shop Natasha and Sylvie sat in a small corner, both with their back to a wall and facing the door. Natasha had ordered a decaf coffee and slice of quiche while Sylvie had opted for an English breakfast tea and a blueberry scone.
The two women ate amiably in comfortable silence as they watched the coffeehouse patrons come and go. One of them would occasionally whisper some comment about a customer and make the other smirk or chuckle with amusement.
Sylvie felt strangely comfortable, despite the fact she had never done anything like this with another person. Her interactions with others had always stemmed from necessity, the impatient need to get something out of them. Now, she merely passed the time with someone she was happy to call a friend—her first real friend.
“All my life on the run… I never did this,” Sylvie said quietly.
“What, people-watched?” Natasha asked casually.
“Spent time… with a friend,” Sylvie said sounding a little embarrassed.
Natasha smiled softly, “that must have been difficult… being on the run so long—I know how isolating it can be.”
“Yes,” Sylvie said absently.
“It makes it hard to trust, makes you not want to trust, because you learn to rely only on yourself,” Natasha sipped her coffee casually.
“Did you have to run? From the people who trained you…?” Sylvie asked.
“Yes, but not just from them. I’ve had to run from more governments and dangerous people than I can count… it was my job, I followed orders and I ran, and I was unfortunately good at it.” Natasha said with a trace of regret.
“It kept you alive.” Sylvie said with conviction.
“At the cost of the people I was sent to eliminate,” Natasha murmured, “after they trained me… programmed me… to be their weapon, they had removed so many of my memories I didn’t know what made me me.”
Natasha’s voice wavered for only a second, “It’s easier to pull the trigger when you don’t feel any connection to the people you kill. So they made sure I didn’t feel connected to anyone.”
Sylvie felt a pang of sympathy for her friend, understanding that isolation and the coldness it brings.
“Do you still not remember…?” Sylvie asked quietly, “the things they took from you?”
Natasha shook her head softly, “I remember very little from that time, and what I do remember is so mixed up it’s hard to know what’s real.”
Sylvie considered this quietly, looking lost in thought for a few moments.
“Sylvie?” Natasha asked after a few minutes of her friend staring at her tea.
“Do you want to…?” Sylvie asked nervously.
“Remember? Yes… I suppose… I always thought I did… Though sometimes I wonder if it’s better not to know. All the things they made me do… I can’t even imagine everything I might have done in the Red Room…” Natasha looked faraway for a moment.
“Tasha, I… there’s something I haven’t told you… something I can do—a kind of magic—”
Natasha listened intently, studying Sylvie’s face while she spoke.
“Like Loki’s, but different… I can’t conjure physical objects or project illusions… but I can access people’s memories…”
Natasha’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly.
“I have to make physical content, but I can enter their minds, even use it to control them…” she said the last part softly.
“Have you done it to me?” Natasha asked quietly.
“No. I would never do that to you without permission, not on purpose,” Sylvie said firmly.
Natasha caught the choice of words, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly, “‘on purpose’?”
Sylvie looked slightly chagrined, “I got a flash, when we were sparring. Just a flash of feeling. I didn’t mean to, but I suppose part of me was curious… but that feeling, it’s what made me want to trust you.”
The two women stared at each other, Natasha studying Sylvie’s face and Sylvie patiently allowing her to. Eventually the corner of Natasha’s mouth quirked gently and Sylvie knew she understood.
Natasha took another drink of her coffee and stared at the mug in her hands.
“I don’t know how long you two will be staying with us, but I might need to think about it. There’s also a lot I worked to forget, to bury… and I told myself it was better I not remember any of it.”
“I understand, Natasha…” Sylvie said gently, “whenever you decide, I’m here…”
Natasha smiled faintly at her, “the universe is funny…” her eyes were fond as she looked at Sylvie with a sense of amazement.
Sylvie smirked back kindly, “It is indeed.”