ARM SECURELY WRAPPED around the other woman's waist, Jane guides Anna out of the small bedroom and toward her lab. She's still astonished after witnessing her punch Loki, as well as by the fact that the Asgardian god did not retaliate. Somehow, he seemed just as shocked by the blow as Jane. Whoever Anna was, Jane can't help but respect the young British woman.
"I'm sorry about that," Anna says, pulling away from Jane and interrupting her thoughts.
They're in a small lab filled to the brim with every kind of equipment the astrophysicist could possibly dream of, as well as several high-tech computers. Anna snags a stool in front of a screen, her face drained of blood from both the effort of the walk (and punch) and the emotions that followed.
"It's fine," Jane reassures. "Really, I've never even met him, but I already knew he was a dick. He deserved it."
Anna shakes her head.
"Regardless, I shouldn't have lashed out like that," she tells Jane firmly. "Our actions are what separate men from monsters. What I just did...I'm no better than him."
"That's not true," Jane snorts, cracking a grin. "He's a murderer. You decked him in the jaw. I would hardly call that equal."
Anna allows her lips to curl into a small smile, "Perhaps, but I wanted to do more."
Jane pulls up a stool next to her, plopping down on it and pulling her thick sweater over her head. She's wearing a grey v-neck long sleeve shirt underneath, and she tosses the bunched up sweater onto a small sofa against the wall. Running her hand through her hair, she lifts an eyebrow at Anna.
"Spill it," she instructs. "I don't even know who you are - let alone why you're really here - and I've watched you attack a god and feel sorry for it."
Anna inhales deeply, glancing around the sparsely decorated room. It's cold and bare - clearly a room meant for scientific pursuits - but something about the way Jane is leaning toward her makes her feel cozy. The other woman's big brown eyes stare at her in a completely unassuming manner. If it weren't for the tall, black-haired man just down the corridor, she would feel completely safe here somehow.
"I'm a journalist," Anna explains. "I...um...I was tangled up in this mess with Mr. Stark in Istanbul, and he asked me to help figure it out."
"Tangled up how?" Jane asks.
Anna frowns, "I'd rather not say."
Her thoughts flash to Rifat, dead on the streets of Istanbul after Tony shot him, as well as to the photographs of his murdered family. She winces at the memory, squeezing her blue eyes shut as if closing them will close the door on the pain. When she opens them again, Jane is still staring straight at her. There is no judgement in her eyes, only curiosity and a hint of what Anna recognizes as pity.
"Stark Tower was raided," Anna continues. "I was shot. Thor told Loki to take me away, find out what was happening. I think he meant to join us, but Dr. Banner...he, um...got angry."
Jane nods in understanding. She'd met Bruce once or twice before, and it still fascinated her how such a mild-mannered man could turn into the green rage monster known less-than-affectionately as the Hulk.
"So, why Loki?" Jane asks. "Why did he bring you here? And why did you hit him? Not that I didn't enjoy it - I did - but, while he is a jackass, I'm not quite sure I understand your anger toward him."
Anna's eyes widen for a moment before turning to stare daggers into the ground. If it weren't for her shoulders moving with every measured breath, Jane might've thought she'd turned into a statue at the question.
"I'm sorry," the astrophysicist mumbles. "You don't have to answer th--"
"No," Anna cuts her off with a wave of her uninjured arm. "It's fine. I didn't...they never..."
Her voice trails, and she bites her lip to prevent a fresh wave of tears from springing up in her eyes. Before this week, she'd never cried this much before in her life. Suddenly she was a weeping angel, and it wasn't exactly pleasant. Not that the murderous statues on Doctor Who are fun.
Jane places a hand on Anna's knee.
"You lost someone," she concludes, speaking softly. "In New York."
Anna nods, refusing to lift her eyes to meet the other woman's gaze. She's successfully held back tears for the moment, but she knows that the second she sees another pair of eyes staring piteously into her own she'll lose it. Even after it happened, after she discovered that her best friend had died in the Battle of New York, she hardly shed more than a few tears at the news. None of it seemed real. Instead, she threw herself into work and travel, hardly allowing for a breath, constantly moving from one thing to the next.
What happened in Istanbul was no different. It seems like she was on the go from the moment it happened, aside from a brief respite on the flight to New York, and she'd yet to find the time to process everything from the past few months. Part of her hoped she would never find the time, but she knows that punching Loki meant her tough façade is cracked. Now, she can feel the pain, rage, and despair coursing through her veins like a poison. It made her blood boil to think of him living and breathing a few rooms down while so many - including someone so close to her - would never see the light of day again.
"I'm sorry," Jane whispers, unsure of what else to say.
"It's...it's okay," Anna replies, taking a few slow breaths before looking up at the other woman and struggling to maintain composure. "He was in New York on assignment when he...when it happened. When my fiancé was killed."
Now playing: "To Build A Home" by The Cinematic Orchestra
*****
Author's Note
Boom. How are you liking The Ides of July?
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