Chapter Seventeen // nothing

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CASEY DOES NOT awaken to the bright hospital LED's she expects but rather the lurid glow of a pink lava lamp working inches away from her face. She's lying sideways on a coffee table with pins and needles in the arm trapped beneath her and when she goes to move her head, a ripple of pain shudders across her abdomen.

Gritting her teeth, she props herself up on her elbows, only to rapidly lose strength in her arms and collapse back onto the wood seconds later. On her third try, she manages to sit up and swing her legs over the side. It's then that she notices the figure lying on the floor nearby. The fallen woman doesn't appear physically strong but the assortment of weapons in the open black gym bag beside her elicits a shudder from Casey, especially when she notices the majority are speckled with dried blood. Carefully, she sets a foot onto the floorboards and, as if on cue, the woman opens her eyes.

"Who are you?" Casey manages to croak, though her voice sounds as if it hasn't been used in years. Barely lifting her head, the stranger only utters a single irate groan before returning to her sleep.

Scanning the room for an exit, Casey's eyes lock onto the opposing door just as it swings open, revealing a tall disgruntled man she faintly recognises, flanked by Stephen. She gasps his name as he crosses the distance between them, locking her arms around his waist and sinking into the familiar fabric of his robes.

"It's over," He says, kneeling by her side so they are at eye level, "Set's gone, you can rest easy."

"Marionette," Whispers the stranger in black and she studies his face with curiosity, searching her memory for a resemblance.

"Loki. Supposed Norse God." Stephen says, having seen her expression, and earning a glare from the 'God' for his description.

"What's wrong with her?" Casey asks but Loki doesn't respond and Stephen only sighs, face guilt-stricken. Choosing to stay silent, she watches as Loki extracts a silver pendant from the pocket of his suit pants and ties it around the woman's neck. The second the metal touches her bare skin, Marionette's eyes fly open and she coughs uncontrollably, curling into herself. The tissue that Loki hands her comes back coated in blood but soon enough the spasm stops and she breathes in peace.

"Let me take you out of here," Loki says and she nods, allowing him to lift her bridal style and carry her through the front door.

"Can you walk?" Stephen asks.

Casey mumbles a 'yes', accepting the arm he offers her and leaning against him for support as they walk through the adjacent doorway.

"Where are we? Who was that?"

"Her name's Marionette, she's a healer. You remember what happened don't you?"

When Casey nods to avoid speaking, he comes to a stop, a familiar glimmer in his eyes as he faces her. Guilt.

"I'm sorry," He says, gently taking her hand in his and pressing it to his chest, "I wasn't thinking and it almost cost you your life. In fact, it did. I, I don't know how to make it up to you."

Casey shakes her head, squeezing his fingers. She doesn't know how to respond so she continues to move forward instead, expressionless. She doesn't blame him for his actions but it isn't easy to forget that he stabbed her.

"So I died, huh." She says as they walk through the apartment, hand in hand.

"Maybe you know Wanda Maximoff from the war. She teleported to us at the last possible second and got you to Marionette who...literally, brought you back to life. I can't tell you how for sure but I think she transfers her own life force to..." He trails off as they reach an unmarked door and he greets the woman standing in front of it. This, Casey assumes, is Wanda.

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