Freya managed to cheer me up. In return she got pasta. It was pretty much a fair trade – even if it was store bought pasta and sauce.

And she managed to leave right before Kanesha came back from hanging out at the community center, something I didn’t begrudge her.

“Here, there’s pasta. You might have to warm it up.”

“Did we have a visitor?”

“Freya. She’s going to help us contain if we can’t defuse.”
“Good. You going to help her or Angrboda?”

“I…don’t even know.” I sighed and turned on the television, wanting my mind taking off it. Fifty channels and absolutely nothing on. Kanesha warmed up her pasta then curled up next to me with the bowl.

“I understand that.”

“I want to beat them up. I also want to make sure they don’t hurt anyone else.”

“Well, I’ll help Freya,” she offered.

“Be careful.” I thought about reminding her she was fragile, then decided it would show a lack of trust in her capabilities. Fragile or not, she was more and more competent each day. And quite excellent at unarmed.

Maybe better than me without a weapon. I tended to be dependent on them. “How about we spar?” I suggested. “Unarmed.”

“Okay, but not right after pasta.”

I grinned agreement, then pulled her closer to me and clicked the remote again. I found the start of a very corny science fiction movie and we watched it quietly.

Being ordinary people. There were no bangs on the door, no interruptions. The snow had melted enough that school was open, for once. I knew Angrboda was still around, but it was quiet.

Too quiet. The quiet of winter and the quiet of people planning things. I didn’t like either of those quiets, really. Clara seemed back to normal when I caught glimpses of her. I hoped I could find something to do about the scar before short sleeves weather, though.

It wasn’t fair that she’d have to carry that for her entire life when it hadn’t, really, been a battle.

But I didn’t have the ability to remove scars. I wondered if Odin would, then considered the ones he carried.

No. He’d call it a badge of honor and her silly for wanting to hide it.

Too quiet, and that lasted for a couple more days before, of course, the shit started to hit the fan.