Chapter Text
“It’s always the tough guys who cry the most,” Axl overheard a police officer jeer to his colleague as he walked past Axl’s cell. It was obviously meant for Axl’s benefit, as he had spent a good portion of the night curled up on the floor bawling his eyes out. It was an ugly mixture of fear, frustration and guilt which had kept the tears flowing all night long.
Now that it was morning, Axl’s mind was feeling as puckered as his skin. He still lay on the ground, cheek pressed to the cold floor. The events from the previous night were hazy from his exhaustion and the awful hangover he was sporting. He had asked for more than the one measly cup of water he had been given, but the police officers on duty had feigned deafness to his pleas. Given that he had put one of their colleagues in intensive care, they weren’t exactly feeling benevolent towards him. Closing his eyes eased the discomfort from the harsh light that beamed down on him. He tried to comfort himself with the thought that Ty would eventually be there to help him. Axl hadn’t exactly made it easy for him, given the location where he had been arrested. Maybe if he tried to actually get some sleep, time would pass faster and he could pretend that he wasn’t totally fucked.
“Axl Johnson?” A booming voice broke through his wavering consciousness. “Your legal support is here.” Axl quickly scrambled to his feet. Only then did he realise how much of a shambles he looked. His shirt had a huge rip in the side and was grubby with the residual stains of sweat, blood and alcohol from the night before. His hands were blistered and raw from his latest fight, and he himself was sporting a shiner of a black eye from the police officer who actually managed to tackle him to the ground when he had been in his fit of rage. That was the cop who he had ended up sending to the hospital. Every throbbing ache of his ribs where he had been hit reminded Axl how much of a mess he was in. Any legal help was probably going to take one look at him and file an immediate guilty plea.
Axl was expecting a tired old man to be his legal representation, so he was completely thrown when his actual lawyer arrived. Miriama Howell was a stout woman in her late 30s, with leathery hands and a taut mouth. She eyed him suspiciously as the police officer entered his cell, giving him a slight shove as he put Axl in handcuffs to take him to the questioning room. As Axl walked in silence with the police officer and the lawyer, he looked around the tiny police station. He hadn’t paid much attention when he had been brought in the night before, but seeing it properly with its off-colour chairs, dingy coloured walls and a few cells with equally pathetic looking inmates made Axl feel even sicker about the situation he was in. The police officer left Axl and Miriama alone in the questioning room, where she formally introduced herself and had a look over his police report.
“A city boy, eh? You’re a bit far away from home.” Her voice was initially stern, but she cracked him a sympathetic smile, which made Axl feel guiltier.
“Sorry,” Axl mumbled; it was the only thing he trusted himself to say.
“I bet you are,” Miriama replied, shaking her head. “They want to throw the book at you. Aggravated assault, injuring with intent, assault with intent to injure, assault with a weapon-” Axl had a flashback of smashing a bottle over someone’s head “-to name a few.” He stared down at his bound hands. They were trembling slightly underneath the cold metal. It was hard to believe that those same hands had hurt so many people lately.
“It doesn’t look good, Axl, you’re potentially facing a lengthy prison sentence.” He had known that the possibility was coming, but to have her say it aloud was something that he couldn’t register. Axl decided to focus on everyone else but himself. It wasn’t real yet.
“Is he okay?” Axl asked hoarsely.
“Who are you referring to?” Axl cringed as he remembered that the police officer wasn’t his only victim of the night. He had given a couple of other people a bloody nose and split lips. There were probably others, but they were still lost in the haze of blood, alcohol and surging rage that characterised the previous evening.
“The - the cop.” Miriama gave him a tired look, pulling a pair of outdated glasses off her face.
“Internal bleeding, fractured eye socket, bruised ribs and a broken jaw. He’ll probably need surgery. His missus is a nervous wreck thanks to you. But it’s not him you have to worry about.” Axl’s stomach lurched. He had been under the impression that the police officer had copped the worst injuries. Miriama swallowed hard before she explained herself; it occurred to Axl that she probably knew most of the people involved personally.
“Do you recall the young man you pushed out of the way of your fight?”
Axl couldn’t remember much, but he could remember the person Miriama was referring to. His name was Jack. An affable bloke. Easy-going, and generous with his rounds of beer. Too generous. Axl took a liking to the guy because he wasn’t pushy. Jack hadn’t questioned why Axl was so far away from home, he didn’t wonder aloud why Axl had such a dishevelled appearance, and he didn’t try to pry into the parts of Axl’s life that Axl wasn’t willing to share. Maybe he should have.
“What about him?” Axl dared ask. He could tell from the look on Miriama’s face that the answer wasn’t going to be something he wanted to hear.
“You might want to fill up your petrol tank,” Ty advised Mike as he opened the door to his car.
“Why’s that?” Mike asked irritably; the prospect of having to get his youngest brother out of jail had put him in a foul mood. And it was about to get fouler.
“He’s in Dannevirke,” Ty replied a little sheepishly.
“For fuck’s sake!” Mike shouted, slamming the door shut again. Ty’s predictions were correct, but he still jumped. “He wants us to drive half away across the bloody country to save him when he punched a cop?!” Dannevirke was one of the absolute last places Mike wanted to visit, ever. The small town reminded him too much of his failures and the simple life he could never have. To have to return to the town he had escaped so long ago under the circumstances was enough to make him livid.
“At least we know where he is,” Ty tried to be optimistic. Even if their brother was currently in jail some 500 kilometres away.
“Give me one good reason why we shouldn’t just leave him there.” Mike had had it with babying his younger brothers. He had tried his hardest to raise them to be sensible human beings, and this was how they repaid him?
“Because he’s family. And he’s not enjoying this Odin business any more than we are. He’s probably scared shitless right now. Are you seriously going to abandon him? If you abandon him, he’s just going to feel worse. And what’s to say he doesn’t hurt someone else again? We need to help him, Mike. Together.” Maybe Mike hadn’t been a total failure after all. His expression softened as he realised that his little brother was right. Their lives would be marginally less horrible if they stuck together.
“We’ve gotta find Frigg,” Mike sighed, shaking his head. Ty smiled, happy that he had finally gotten through to Mike.
“One thing at a time. We need Axl for that.” Mike jumped into the driver’s seat of his car and look out the window at Ty, a determined glint in his eye.
“When Anders gets here, we go. There’s a long drive ahead of us.”
“22-year old Axl Johnson is facing court today for a number of charges in Dannevirke District Court. Sergeant Graham Masters is in a serious but stable condition after being attacked by Johnson. One of his other victims, 19 year old Jack Zane remains in a critical condition after being pushed into an oncoming car by the accused.” Colin turned off the television in his office, before the story could elaborate further. He stood up and poured himself a glass of vodka from a side table. A smirk crossed his face as he examined the tall bottle in the muted light emitting from his fireplace. Katherine, who was standing to attention at the door, did not share his smile when he glanced in her direction.
“This is the very tip of the iceberg of what they’re capable of. But I’m sure you know that already, thanks to the tragic fate of your two parishioners.” Colin’s second guest gave him a hardened stare. The man was sitting on one of the sofas in Colin’s office. He had dark, harrowing eyes that carried the burden of too many souls.
“Natalie and Celeste were both very dear to us. I want to make sure that this never happens again. To anyone.” He glanced at the now black screen of the television. Colin sat down opposite him, feigning a look of sympathy.
“Well, Mark, I think you might be a tad late for poor Mr Zane. But we want to help you. The same woman who killed your Celeste also murdered my daughter.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Mark’s condolences were genuine. It was what Colin liked about the man. His intentions and beliefs were upfront. It made a nice change from the people Colin normally dealt with. This made it easier for Colin to manipulate him. Although ‘manipulate’ was such a sinister word. All Colin was doing was encouraging Mark to see through his goals. They just happened to be goals that Colin could use to his advantage.
“I don’t wish to pry, but she wasn’t a – you know - was she?” Mark’s tone was hesitant, but he needed to know the truth before he agreed to work with the lawyer. He didn’t wish to utter the word out loud, but thankfully for him Colin understood what he meant.
“She fell in love with one, and married him. It was his mother who killed her.” Colin didn’t feel the need to explain that Eva herself was also a goddess. He didn’t like to talk about her more than was necessary. Katherine shifted her feet uncomfortably at the edge of the room.
“So both your son-in-law and his mother were these false deities? That’s intriguing,” Mark mused, sitting back in his seat. Colin gave a curt nod.
“The man you sent Natalie after in Norway? My daughter’s husband is his brother. And they are both older brothers of the one and only Mr Axl Johnson.” Mark’s eyes glistened in triumph. He had spent years and years gathering enough information on Agnetha and Anders Johnson in order to pursue them. And now there was someone who was both willing to assist him in his mission and help piece it all together. It was as though God himself had intended for them to meet. And in a way, he wasn’t wrong.
It just wasn’t the god that Mark had in mind.
Anders returned to his house to find Gaia sitting on the front steps. When he approached the door, Gaia hastily stood up so they were level, less than a metre apart.
“What the fuck are you doing here?!” Anders hissed, glancing cautiously over his shoulder. “Don’t tell me you’ve been here all night!” He couldn’t help but let his concern show.
“Michele never goes back to her house anymore. I just borrowed her keys.” The girl was gutsy, Anders had to admit. Anders himself had once visited the neighbourhood where Michele usually dwelt – it wasn’t the worst place in the world to spend the night. It was far nicer than the dingy bar that Mike took far too much pride in. Anders hoped for Michele’s sake that she’d be able to convince him to move out of it. Anders grinned at her initiative, but it faltered when he remembered that he wasn’t supposed to be admiring his brother’s girlfriend. Soon to be ex-girlfriend, he thought hopefully. For Gaia’s safety. Not for his own intentions.
“You can’t be here.” Anders tried to sound authoritative, but his voice wouldn’t obey. It came out in a feeble plea.
“I don’t want to be here.” Gaia fired back. But she made no move to leave.
“Well, I’m not exactly keeping you here,” Anders pointed out, hoping that she’d get the hint. Mike and Ty would be wondering where he got to. Because he’d be the one they fucking needed to do all the heavy lifting for them to help Axl. The prospect was growing less and less attractive by the minute, and Anders hadn’t been particularly keen in the first place.
“Yes you are,” Gaia whispered back, her eyes filling with tears. She defiantly wiped them away before they could spill. Oh, fuck, Anders wanted to hug her so much. It wasn’t her fault, none of this fucked up situation was her fault. Just one hug wouldn’t hurt. Before Anders could continue to wrangle with his internal monologue, they had their arms wrapped tightly around each other in a firm embrace. Anders could feel Gaia relax in his arms, and that in turn made him calmer. He didn’t want to ever let her go. But the smallest ounce of responsibility crept to the forefront of his mind.
“Mike and Ty are waiting for me,” Anders mumbled regretfully in Gaia’s ear. Fuck them, they had the wrong priorities. Why did he have to help bail Axl out? He had already done enough damage with having to deal with Natalie. It was morally preferable for him to stay there with Gaia.
“Do you have to go with them?” She didn’t know where they were going, but she sure as hell knew that she wanted Anders to stay. Gaia gazed up at Anders pleadingly. Anders needed to make her feel as though things were going to be okay. There was really only one way he knew how to do that, but it wasn’t the time to be picky. And if Axl was going to be set free, then this would be their last chance. Bragi couldn’t pass that up such an opportunity to be with his Idunn.
“No, I don’t. Why don’t you come upstairs?”