You're My Idiot (Blitzstone)

3. We Take an Early-Morning Shower With Some Cops

TW: (mild) police violence

Blitz POV

When I woke up the next morning, I realized that Hearth and I had twenty-four hours of normal life left.

Well, my definition of normal had become skewed.

Hearth and I spent the day busying ourselves, as we were both full of nervous energy and honestly, there wasn't much left for us to do. We cleaned, got rid of clutter, washed the sheets and vacuumed, cleaned out the refrigerator and did the dishes. Our apartment was going to be neglected for awhile.

The next morning, Hearth and I each went over the contents of the letter for the last time before shredding the paper. The bottom of the letter made it very clear that we were not to dispose of the other content of the envelope: a red poker chip. We were told to bring it to the designated location, an unfamiliar address in Boston.

Hearth and I had been to Boston quite a few times, for various reasons. Thankfully it appeared that this was also where our duty would be taking place. Boston was the easiest place in Midgard to travel between worlds.

I tucked the poker chip safely in an inside pocket of my overcoat. I pulled a black skullcap over Hearth's head before he could protest (he was going to complain of cold later), checked my watch, and signed, Ready?

Hearth's fingers trailed over the brim of the hat, but he just pulled it over his ears. Yes.

Just like that, I locked the door to the apartment, and we headed down the hall, out the door, and into the street.

I knew from experience that the river that ran in a valley between two cliffs on the edge of Nidavellir was a dangerous but effective way to jump between worlds.

Want to go swimming? Hearth joked.

I am sure you do, I fired back. The elf just smirked.

Mimir's letter had been helpful in providing a riff in the World Tree that didn't involve getting soaking wet, but was not much of a better alternative.

How do you feel about dumpster diving? I asked Hearth.

Let's just get it over with.

We walked about four blocks to a pizza parlour, double-checking the address, then turned into the alleyway behind the restaurant. Hearth pushed open the lid of the dumpster. It was dark enough within that I couldn't really see the bottom.

Jump in? Hearth questioned.

I just shrugged as we pulled ourselves onto the edge. I sat in a crouch. Without another word, Hearth gracefully dived off the edge. I yelped as he disappeared without a sound. Glancing down into the bin, I realized I was gazing down a shaft of unknown depth. The thought made my toes curl, but I had to just get it over with, Hearth had done it-

I lost my balance and plummeted off the edge.

I had fallen into plenty of dark holes before, so I managed to stifle my screams (barely). I suddenly stopped falling, and found myself surrounded by something soft and squishy. And smelly.

I first realized that I had landed in a dumpster, a mirror image of Nidavellir. The next thing I realized was that I was sitting on Hearth's legs, as he was bucking his knees, trying to push me off of him.

"Sorry, buddy," I said, even though I knew he couldn't hear me. I clambered out of the dumpster, the stench permanently inflamed in my nostrils. Snowflakes fell gently from the sky, kissing my nose. Red neon lights from a pizza place, a mirror image from Nidavellir, created a hazy glow through the flurry. There was enough cloud coverage here that I would be fine, but I still pulled my hood tighter around my face.