Although I wouldn't admit it to Fury, this cage was starting to get on my nerves. Heck, it wasn't even a cage – it was a glass prison, not meant to hold me. No, this was for him. Professor Banner, the so-called 'Hulk'. Fury wouldn't admit it to him, but that was the truth. Despite Banner saying he was in control of the monster, everyone still slept with a gun under their pillow, just in case.

Suddenly, the door that concealed the chamber from the rest of the ship slid open smoothly, revealing the silhouette of a tall, lean figure standing in the doorway. Slowly, he walked forward into the dim lighting of the room, revealing himself to me. I felt a smirk tug at the corners of my lips.

"Well, well; if it isn't the very man himself. Hello, Dr Banner," I grinned at him. Perfect. Although Fury had made sure that no clocks were to be placed in this room, I gathered that it must be very early in the morning. Everyone made sure Banner had no access to this room, so the explanation as to how he managed to get here was a) everyone else on this aircraft had been murdered, or b) the rest of the 'Avengers' were asleep. Unfortunately, it was probably the latter.

"Loki," his voice was rough and husky. As he stepped closer to my prison – his prison – he whipped his glasses from his nose and ran a hand over his eyes. The man was tired. Although I wasn't prone to sympathy, I did understand: it can be hard when everyone believes that you are a monster.

"That is the name my father gave me," I sniffed, remembering. It's hard to believe that I could forget, but for many years of my life, that's what he had been to me. What I thought he had been to me.

Adopted.

The word made me shiver with disgust. All those years had been lies. And they all acted as if I had overreacted. I did not overreact.

"Your father…" Banner looked up at me, his eyes finding mine. There was curiosity in them, curiosity hidden behind something else...pity?

"Don't. I don't have a father, and he has nothing to do with what you are here for." What he was here for, I don't really know. Everyone seemed to think I had some supernatural power that made me far more intelligent than everyone else. Although I'd say I was naturally smarter than all of them put together (aside from perhaps Banner and Stark), I wouldn't call it a superpower. I just let people think I know what I'm doing, let them continue to talk and simply pick apart their words until I came to a certain conclusion.

"You're right, for the most part," he said, drifting slowly towards the glass that separated me from him. "I'm curious, Loki. I am curious as to what your plan is." All this time, his eyes never left mine. I stared back, both unable to look away and determined to show no weakness. Not in the face of Banner. I needed him to break.

"And what makes you think I have a plan?" I asked, starting to pace around my prison. My footsteps made a soft tapping across the metal floor. I felt Banner's eyes on my back.

"Because I have spoken to Thor. You always have a plan."

"You speak like you think he knows me." I paused mid-stride, shutting my eyes tight against his gaze, despite the lack of eye-contact. "He doesn't know me."

"But he did. And you know he did. Whether there is blood relation or not, he is still your brother, and you are his." The taste of blood flooded into my mouth. I hadn't realized that I had been biting my lip.

"That was before. He doesn't know me now." Taking a deep breath, I turned around to face him again. I would show no fear.

"What's your game plan?" Was it just me, or was there a tinge of green hiding under his skin? His hands were in fists, clenched tight. He was breaking. He would break.

"I don't know what you mean."

"What is your game, Loki. Tell me!" His fists made contact with the glass. Not a scratch was made. Perfect.

"It's for you, you know," I purred, a grin spreading slowly across my face. "They need you for your brains, Banner, but they haven't forgotten. Who could forget about the big, green monster hiding underneath your skin? You aren't a human, you are a Hulk. You are the Hulk, capable of killing a hundred people with every step you take. They need you, but they have not forgotten who you truly are. You are a time-bomb – ticking, ticking, constantly ticking, and they know that." Throughout my speech, his eyes were downcast, but the vein in his forehead was protruding. I was close.

"It's me." Quiet, so quiet, it could have been just in my head if I hadn't seen his lips move.

"You?"

"Me. I'm your plan. You need me." Before I could process what was happening, the door to the chamber open and closed, and soon Banner had been pressed against the wall, his face in mine.

"But what for..." his eyes searched mine, as if the answer was hidden there, somewhere. I couldn't help myself: a laugh escaped. Even if he figured out my plan, he would learn it too late. The damage he would do…it would free me.

"You're hurt-"

"What?"

"You were adopted. You're hurt. You're- you're…heartbroken." Realization seemed to dawn in his eyes. What, he thought I was heartbroken?

"I'm not- I'm not," I spluttered, unable to see where this understanding had come from.

"Stop lying. For fuck's sake, stop lying." He fist pounded the wall, inches from my face. "I am part of your plan, and I deserve to know what the hell you're going to do." He was so close; I could smell his scent; aftershave and breath mints. For him, or for the big man?

"Doesn't the brave, intelligent, Doctor Bruce Banner know?" I quirked an eyebrow up, playing with him, teasing him. He was trying to refrain from taking the bait, but I could see in his eyes just how badly he wanted it. He was at the edge of a cliff, and I would be the one to push me off it.

"If I knew, I wouldn't be here in the first place," his nostrils were flaring, his eyes flashing.

"And you think I'm going to just – what? Tell you? And spoil all my fun?" my grin turned wicked. There was definitely now a hue of green to his skin, a soft growl escaping every time he breathed out.

"Tell me."

"Or what?"

"Tell me, Loki!"

"What are you going to do, big man? Are you going to…smash me?" There was a moment – a single moment where I swear neither of us breathed. We just stared, our eyes interlocked, a deep understanding passing between us. I had given too much away. In my excitement, in my passion, I had told him just what he wanted to know, and-

For a man who had rough hands and a sharp brain, his lips were soft. Soft, the texture of cotton wool and the taste of candy floss. Almost as if by a reflex, I bit his bottom lip, resulting in a growl. But despite the fact that his muscles were tense, and he was more green than any normal shade, I couldn't stop myself from returning his hungry kisses.

We were like animals, and for once, I let myself go, just for a second. There was never method to my madness. Yes, I was hurt, confused, heartbroken. To find out that you're adopted, when you've spent your entire life expecting to become King of Asgard, and to have hundreds of people worship my every word. To feel wanted – to feel needed – that was all I asked for. But I didn't get it. No - misbehaving, unruly Thor did. Even if I had been crowned King, I never would have had any followers, because everyone followed the golden boy – I hated him. I fucking hated him. Every time I saw him, I wanted to hurt him; wanted him to feel just a little bit the hurt that I felt every single day. And I couldn't even do that properly. I was a failure, first and foremost.

And when I got close to succeeding – close to ruining his oh-so-fantastic life – he spewed some stupid line of "I love you, you're my brother, you're just having a bad day" and just like that, I couldn't find an angry bone in my body, just for a few seconds. But those seconds were precious, and I would soon find myself handcuffed and on my way to prison. Love ruins everything and breaks everyone. And although I avoided personal relationships with anyone, human or demigod, for once I just wanted to allow myself this one, small pleasure. And Banner was perfect.

Sliding my cool fingers around the back of his neck, I pressed him closer to me, our bodies fitting together as if they were matching jigsaw pieces. Making a soft sound against my mouth, his arms encircled my waist as he pushed my harder against the glass.

As suddenly as it had happened, Banner broke away, letting me go as he paced across the room. His skin no longer held that tinge of green, but his muscles were still taunt.

"Do you have any idea what to do to me?" he snarled, refusing to make eye contact. I raised an eyebrow, folding my arms across my chest, uncomprehending.

"I'm hoping it's something along the lines of 'I infuriate you'?" I asked innocently, trying to conceal a smirk. Banner was fun to play with. The Black Widow, Stark, Captain, Thor, Fury…they weren't fun to annoy. But Banner…outwardly, he seemed so calm – but just under the surface, fury rippled off of him like ocean currents.

"Your guess is correct." He turned to face me, a hand under his chin, his expression thoughtful. "You are my enemy. One of my enemies, anyway. And I hate you. I detest you…But I can't help but be attracted to you. I mean, do you know what that's like?" his gaze pierced mine. "Because I know you don't feel it. You just feel hate, uncontrollable hate, for anyone and everything that doesn't feel the pain you do. But I feel that pain. Maybe not heartbreak, maybe not your kind of heartbreak, but I hate myself just like you do, because of what I have become. And that's why you kissed me. Out of everyone you could seduce, you chose me – not just because you find me fun to play around with, but because I at least feel a bit of the hate you do. And that comforts you – that knowledge seduces you no way any other person can."

"What do you want me to say?" I asked after a brief pause. "Bingo? You've got it? Is that what you want to hear?" I smirked, and a cruel laugh escaped from my lips. "Why are we talking? Why talk when we can…not talk?" Within seconds, his somehow familiar lips were back on mine, our bodies pressed together as if we could together squeeze the hate out of us.

"I'm not going to tell them," Banner said, doing up his belt as he leant against the wall opposite to me.

"No, I didn't expect you to," I could feel the stubble rash from Banner's cheeks burn me as I spoke, and I couldn't help the grin I tried to supress.

"And you won't tell them either." It wasn't a question. I ducked my head in acknowledgment, staring down at my feet.

"You won't be coming back."

"No." A familiar, bitter smile fell across my face. I looked up, my eyes catching his. Banner was right – although we hated ourselves for different reasons, the hate was still an emotion we shared. And through that pain, we found comfort in each other. I would never speak of our night together again, and I'm pretty sure he wouldn't either. Only two people in the world knew of our deed – but that was enough. And in the coming years where my hate would suffocate me until I was barely breathing, I would think of him and his rough hands and sweet lips, and I would smile. Because it had been enough.