The sound of the lap of the river against the pier was starting to become more pronounced -- or, at least, the crowds of the Harbour District were dwindling to less of a rumble and more of a murmur. It yielded to the sounds of the environment, to the gentle way the ropes tethering boats creaked and birds chittered as they began their twilight hunt for food. Calm was taking hold of the harbor itself, and it was lowering its voice to a whisper.
The sunset was a welcome view after the week previous, which amounted to nightmares and carnage. And empty spaces, even. One had been Kate-shaped. Ikol found that he was beyond relieved that it didn’t remain.
They had found a spot on the edge of one of the wooden piers that jutted out over the Okranos River, away from crowds and eavesdroppers. To Lucky’s credit, he had been the one to walk this way and Ikol and Kate had followed. It was one of those places that fit between the hours of the days that were filled with tasks and plans and goals. A nowhere type of spot to sit and merely be. The quiet washing over the harbor had also washed over them as they sat.
Of course, someone had to break that stillness.
“You are sure that you’re up to this?” Ikol. From where his bare legs (boots taken off and set behind him, pants rolled up) were dangling off the wooden slats, he turned to look at Kate beside him. “Yes, I know it’s the annoying question no one wants to hear. But, I am obligated to ask it.”
It was the question Kate had been dreading, but honestly, there wasn't much of an answer. She'd never really been the type to sit and stew on her misfortunes, except for the one time life was supremely disgusting for a teenaged girl who had come from serving soup at a soup kitchen. She'd withdrawn then, but not long after, she'd signed up for every martial art class, every weapons' training class she could find. Her father hadn't bat an eyelash at the money she'd spent on one with renown people in their skills.
There was one thing she knew about their world and it was that eventually, all superheroes die. And they don't usually stay dead.
So Kate had been prepared — logically, of course, you couldn't really know how you were going to truly react until faced with it — that some day this would happen to her. The way it happened to Clint, to Black Widow, to Iron Man, to She-Hulk, to Hulk, to — well, you get the idea.
"I'm actually fine," she admitted, glancing over at him with a calm expression. Fine was subjective, of course, but she wasn't internally freaking out or pondering over it too much. The pain of dying sucked, sure, but… When that was over, there wasn't anything. "I think being shoved back into my body, alive, was worse if you want to know the truth."
His expression didn’t waver. He kept it steady, neutral. By all rights, if Kate said she was fine, it wasn’t for him to argue that fact. He could see it in her own expression that she meant the words, and that felt so very Kate to him that he knew she was telling the truth.
“It’s jarring,” Ikol replied with a nod. “But then it’s back into the fray, so to speak. You know that you do have the option to find whatever pleasure suits you most and to have a lovely week instead of rooting around for magic-infused jewelry?”
He realized it sounded a little pointed -- not in tone, but in choice of words -- and then amended. “By which I mean, I would be glad to have you along, but you know best what you need right now.” The sun was getting to that angle where the colors would turn gold for a brief few moments; already the smooth outlines of waves were shimmering with a warm glow. It started to cast both him and Kate in amber and yellow. Lucky’s fur looked nearly fiery.
"I don't see a spa or a massage parlor anywhere around," she told him, dead-panned, and looked directly into his eyes. She wondered about what Ben had said, that Loki had essentially kept a watch over her. To make sure she didn't get tagged. You really need to ask? She really had, because she hadn't expected it, even without the added bonus of all or nothing tagging.
Kate moved to tuck her hair behind her ear — too pointy to be her own — and turned on the dock to look at him, forward facing. Her brow furrowed, a line creasing between her eyebrows as she thought of how best to broach the topic. Subtlety had never been a strong point of hers. Lucky's eyes found her when she moved, but he didn't make a motion to get up. He knew her body language enough.
"You watched over me." Super subtle.
“That’s because those services tend to be found elsewhere,” Ikol told her, one brow lifting. The best place to get a massage was the same place that would ask a fee for a companion for an hour or two. He didn’t chase that further. Kate was whip smart about plenty. She could read between the margins. He gave her deadpan, direct look the briefest flash of a grin. She’d get it. No need to chase it.
Besides, small jokes aside, there was a bigger and weightier topic to address. As Kate physically pivoted, he kept his seat but turned his shoulders to receive what was essentially an unspoken part of the conversation. He could tell she was thinking. He waited.
And, then…
“No one had any way of knowing if the reset would bring everyone back.” He dipped his head to the side as he made a second admission: “And there wasn’t time to ask what your wishes were. I had to choose something.”
"I get that — the not knowing about the reset, my wishes, and stuff."
Maybe there was something she was missing about choosing something, but that wasn't what she meant. Out of all the people, he took it upon himself to guard over her dead body. It sounded a little creepy when she thought of it like that, but the current of emotions had turned into something in her head that maybe it wasn't.
He'd been fairly nonchalant when she'd broken things off with him, saying he could get that kind of satisfaction elsewhere. While she had agreed, it sort of made her feel a little disposable at the time. (She remembered the guys she’d slept with when she was post-Noh Varr. Some of them she didn't remember their names. She felt kind of bad about that, in retrospect.)
"I just meant why would you sit over someone who wasn't actually in there." The word choice was a little odd, but it wasn't an easy conversation to have. "Specifically, me."
“Ah.” He looked to the side for a second to shuffle his thoughts into a different order than what he thought he needed them in. There was a sigh, light and airy. It was a thoughtful thing more than an exasperated one.
“Well, plain facts first.” Ikol turned back to Kate and held up both hands, one starting the count on the other’s pointer finger. “The other side was actively trying to place badges, whether or not proof of life existed.” One. “Someone suggested cremation. We’ll have to talk that grim business out at some point.” Two. “And I would have to think if it wasn’t specifically you, then someone else would have to think through the same things I did. Except, it was you. And you’re important to me.” Three.
“I did ask Lucky what he thought, but he plays coy.” The count of three was dropped, and Ikol resolved it all with a shrug. If such a thing could be even resolved in that way to start with. It was a funny dance with Kate -- and something like the one he’d had with Verity back home. They both rotated between being a friend, confidante, and someone to call him on his shit. Sometimes all three of those coalesced. They were the people who saw that he was genuinely trying, if not occasionally failing, to do better. But the boundary had long been established with Verity.
With Kate…
The line as far as physicality went had been drawn after the fact. And that left them to talk and be in each other’s company, watch movies, play fetch with Lucky, lie down on the floor in one another’s room just to be near. In the wake of her leave, that vacuum felt so much worse. It drained. He had kept that to himself.
The badges and bodies didn't surprise her, not after she heard it was an all or nothing situation. It made sense for someone to guard her if she hadn't been tagged. She assumed they had figured out whether or not she was somehow so that was an awkward situation. Some spell, she assumed.
Kate was decent at reading people, but she was no spy. She couldn't read nuances so when he finally came out with it — you're important to me — Kate was relieved that she wouldn't have to prod him into it. She had been thinking too, as soon as Ben had told her that Loki had volunteered to watch over her, about their conversation on those steps. Instead of getting weird about things, he'd dove headfirst into friendship. He'd been there, and she'd tried to do the same.
But the truth was, there was still that little spark inside her that wanted more from him. She just wasn't sure if that was something he'd wanted. Maybe he didn't, and this was just more of an extension of being a good friend.
"Lucky — " The dog's ears perked right up. " — is notorious when it comes to being tight-lipped." When it was clear there were no treats, Lucky flopped his head back down. "So, point number one, nothing needed there. Point two. If it means the fate of Derleth is on the line, cremation is — er — fine. Prefer not to be, but if it came down to it. And third…"
Kate hoped she wasn't about to bungle this. She reached out for his hand. "I think I'm done — hating myself about Johnny. If that's.. Something… you're interested in?"
He wasn’t fishing for outcomes or trying to guide someone to the answer he wanted, which made the way Kate navigated the replies unpredictable. It made her taking his hand something that quieted him for a few seconds. He looked down and turned their hands over slightly, as if he was trying to figure out how events had built to this moment. Maybe months ago, he might have taken this with a grin and a sense of victory that begged bragging rights, but now…
Now it struck him that this felt like moments ago when the sun’s light warmed his face. Gentle, kind. Sustaining.
It was an uncommon feeling, at least as far as he could recall throughout his years and other lives.
“There wouldn’t be any other way to find out how the story goes other than to try investing in it,” he finally answered. “I would. If you would.”
It was an answer that Kate had been slowly coming around to already. Dying and coming back had given her a sort of clarity. Derleth was Derleth, the rules were different. Maybe Johnny would show up, and maybe Kate would have to deal with it then. Until then, there was no point in beating herself up over it. There wasn't a moment in particular where she sat down and came to this conclusion, but sitting here by the water with him…
It was the decision she wanted. Not the one she thought someone else wanted, or some weird sense of responsibility. There was something here.
"Yeah," she answered, giving a crooked smile. "I would. Very much."
Kate’s hand remained in his. Perhaps a crescendo here would have been some big theatrical kiss or embrace. A twilight-steeped swirl of passion with stars beginning to flicker overhead as the dregs of sunset seemingly drained into the river. He held her hand instead, and her smile was matched.
“I probably shouldn’t ask if you still find my face punchable right now, right? That would quash a moment. And a lovely moment at that.” His tone was light, as if carried by the weightlessness of his good mood. “So I shouldn’t ask that. But I am wondering… this means you trust me?”
"Oh Loki, your face can be both punchable and kissable at the same time." It seemed almost ridiculous to be sitting near the water, holding hands with a trickster god from Asgard, but Kate was strangely content with it. He knew that she could be volatile and that she jumped into the fray sometimes without thinking. She knew that he had unlimited tricks up his sleeve. And if push came to shove, yes, she would punch him.
(She hoped she didn't have to do that. Unless they were playing a trick on someone else.)
Kate scooted a little closer, and for a small instant, Lucky thought they were getting up. He jumped to his feet, looked around, noticed no one was moving, and then huffed back down onto the wooden planks. She reached over with her free hand to ruffle his fur. "I trust you. You've come a long way from all those Mother hijinks. But, you know, you can still do tricks. As long as they're not mean.."
“Noted,” Ikol replied with brows lifted, and he had the good sense to see that it wasn’t as much a dare to step out of line as a promise to push him back into place if he meandered too far from it. And hopefully it wouldn’t have to come to that.
He breathed out, a steady exhale as he cast his gaze out on the inky blot of water. By rights, this whole scenario had been a stretch in his mind. Back home their paths diverged. It seemed as though they never returned to each other’s circles to rekindle even an alliance. It made him think about if he had stayed with the Young Avengers in the first place. Maybe…
But that was a wasted thought. Here, now was something tangible and real.
“So, no lies,” he told Kate. “Only mischief. I can work that.” He gave her a side glance before tugging the conjoined hands to rest on top of his knee. It was a small coax to close more of the space.
It had been Loki's choice to leave the Young Avengers. Sure, they were upset and disappointed, but who hadn't been upset and disappointed with someone else in the group? They were Young Avengers, that was part of the package. And honestly? From everything she learned after, the regular Avengers were full of upsets and disappointments. That was life.
And it wasn't like Loki had gotten himself a cloned body with superpowers of literal persuasion. Like her own father. Or gotten himself turned into a vampire and tried to eat her best friend. No, he'd been desperate to get something back that he'd had before. It wasn't great, but it wasn't necessarily evil either. Somewhere in the middle.
The moment didn't seem quite right for some kind of make-out session, at least not just yet, so Kate took the cue and leaned against him, then rested her head on his shoulder. They could just take in this sunset (which made her feel a bit like one of those weirdo saps, but honestly, she was basking in it right now). "No lies. Only mischief."
He reached his other hand back towards Lucky and felt a smile tugging at his lips as he ran his fingers along the canine’s haunches.
There was peace here. As Kate settled against him, Ikol leaned slightly against her, as well. The water smoothed to nearly a mirror as daylight waned and night set in, and it reflected a perfect inverted picture of the two of them back. Catching sight of it was just one more bit of proof that this was reality.
They could stay here for a short while. He wouldn’t mind it one bit if they did.