Dorothy's Room, 33rd Floor

Ethan was in full panic mode. He had just gotten a cryptic message from Dana asking him to bring a doctor (her precise words were "someone who knows what the f#ck they're doing", so he assumed she meant a doctor) and an address outside of Massachusetts. No other info. Just that. Dana wasn't very talkative and Ethan was accustomed to it, but you don't just send a message like that without saying what the problem is! Who knew what she got herself into?
He had briefly considered getting the rest of the floor 22 gang, but after seeing Miro and Morten jousting down the hall on the backs of the Alaric brothers, he decided it might not be the best call. No, what he needed was someone who could fly, and fast. And who better for that, if not the Valkyries? Surely one of his friends was available!
But Thusnelda was on shift, Astrid was off somewhere in Svartalfheim and Brünhild had left all his messages on read. Go to Hel, Brünhild. Ethan was about to go and knock on all the Valkyrie doors he could before remembering something. There was this one Valkyrie who had healed his wounds in the infirmary a few times! Dorothy. A world war II nurse. This was exactly what he needed.

"Dorothy! Hi!" he said as soon as the Valkyrie opened the door. "I need your help. One of my friends is stuck in Vermont and I think she's in trouble. Like, badly injured kind of trouble. Can't make it back on her own. Any chance you could help out?"

"Gods of Asgard, you're an angel," Ethan said. "Thank you! Now let's get out of here." Fortunately, they had no bad surprises leaving Hotel Valhalla - except if you count the atrocious elevator music and the spear that almost punctured Ethan's shoulder. Usually, if you were an einherji, you couldn't make it out without getting killed twice. "Do you reckon you could, uh, fly us there?" Ethan asked, a bit nervous. "Traffic's not great on a Saturday."

"Period clothing?" Ethan glanced at her outfit. "I thought it was a really sweet thrift store haul." But as he did a double-take, he realized there was no way this was second-hand. The clothes she wore suited her like they'd been tailored. Also they smelled of old-timey lavender, which reminded him of his gran.

"WOOOW" he shouted as they shot into the air. Flying with Dorothy was way different from flying with Dana. First, Dorothy had wings. They were bright azure ombré-ing into white, spanned about four meters and were powerful as hell. It was about the coolest thing Ethan had ever seen, but it didn't make flying easier. There were way more ups and downs than he was used to, banking this way, banking that way, and he hoped he'd be able to keep his lunch down. Dana's flights were smoother. Flying with her reminded him of skiing: weightless, fast, no breaks. Freaking hell, where are you Dana, he thought. What did you get up to. If anything whatsoever had happened to his friend…

"Yeah," he said and told her over the wind. Ethan didn't really know much about Vermont, except that there were cows and gay hippies. Sounded like a cool place.

Thank god for the gliding. Now Ethan could take his focus from his swaying tummy to the landscape underneath them. They were flying over a rural area which he couldn't see much of due to the thick, snowy foliage. Fortunately as the son of Ullr, Ethan was quite immune to sub-zero temperatures so he didn't mind the biting cold. Just look for the mum jeans, he thought trying to cheer himself up. He constantly roasted Dana for her mum jeans. "There!" he suddenly shouted, feeling something tugging at his mind. He was one-hundred-percent sure that was Dana trying to communicate with him.

Ethan touched ground like a pancake. He promptly got back on his feet, spat out some snow, and peered into the trees. Dorothy had dropped them off in the middle of a forest, no trace of civilisation left or right. Snow crunched underfoot. It sent a shiver down Ethan's spine, like a little tingle of adrenaline - he was the son of Ullr after all.

"Dana?" he called into the trees. "Dana!"

He took a few steps, brushing snow-laden branches aside. The glittering powder trickled down his shirt. "Dana, it's me, Ethan!" As he took slow, careful steps in the frozen wilderness, he felt a light tugging on the tip of his fingers. Like something was trying to guide him. "Dana, is that you?" he whispered before calling over his shoulder: "Dorothy! I got something!"