A/N: If any of you haven't heard the 'character death' rumors, then you might not want to read this. Otherwise, you're fine. ;)
Jane wasn't very good at first impressions, she was beginning to realize.
Within hours of meeting him, she'd backed into Thor twice, and, though accidental, she still felt pretty bad about the whole ordeal. Upon meeting his admittedly more devious brother, she'd slapped him straight across the face, and she was beginning to regret that, too. (But, hey, Darcy wasn't exactly exceptional at first meetings, either, lugging around that Taser all the time.)
Jane, with her scientific outlook and countless observations, was starting to discover how vast the world really was, and how wrong she'd been, and how truly volatile people could be. And at the current moment, she was about to throw away a childhood of warnings about strangers and a lifetime of moral teachings, along with her stubborn pride, to walk up to Loki, curled up on a fallen tree overlooking the roaring fire as Thor worried over firewood and how long he could keep the flames going, and apologize. It was hard work, preparing herself for the task, and she paced at the edges of their small encampment for a good ten minutes, planning out her strategy.
The dark haired god was holding his middle, and she could hardly blame him. He'd fallen onto his back with Jane in tow, and she'd landed quite hard against his abdomen, the feeling of her elbow jamming into his stomach after a three story fall still fresh in her memories. Not to mention the aftermath of the explosion, the cuts and burns still decorating his face, his armor singed. She'd gotten the blunt of it, only because, upon a plea from Thor, who had been woefully too far away to protect her, Loki had rushed in front of her, and hadn't had time to turn before the whole room had lit up with fire. The force of the blast had pushed them through the tall glass windows and they'd soared through the air, her throat still raw from all the screaming she'd done. And somehow, in his odd, mysterious way, he'd managed to twist around and wind up falling first, and the cracking she'd heard, coupled with his groan of pain, could still be heard, echoing repeatedly in her head.
Her own body felt tender, and so horribly sore, and even walking slowly hurt her more than it should have. She could spot the trickster god trying to heal his wounds, and she watched in awe as his burns disappeared, but the cuts littering his skin remained, and he slumped, sighing tiredly.
"I could just use my magic to-"
Thor held up a hand, sparing a glance at his brother, and shook his head determinedly.
"I'm going to keep it going myself, Loki. We don't need magic." Loki rolled his eyes, and, even exhausted and wounded, he still managed to cling to his sassy gestures.
"You needed it earlier. If not for magic, your mortal would be flat and bloody across the rocks. And, trust me, those rocks hurt."
Thor gave him a hard look and sighed, assenting reluctantly.
"I…suppose." Crossing his arms, Loki reclined his head to gaze up at the starless sky, frowning.
"That didn't really sound like a 'thank you', brother," he retorted, and Jane hurried over before Thor could get angry, taking a seat on the tree beside Loki, who glared at her like she was an unwanted illness. She swallowed, folding her hands in her lap, and tried to look anywhere but at the god beside her, hating that every interaction she'd made with Asgardians thus far had gone sour.
She noticed, briefly, how Loki stretched out his hand, which shook ever so slightly in the stillness of the air, the warmth of the flames seeming unable to touch his skin as he retracted his arm quickly, his lips pressed together tightly. She took a deep breath, swallowing.
"Thank you," she said plainly, and gained no response from him, "I mean, for saving my life." After a good minute of impassivity, she huffed, and looked to Thor, who obliviously focused on the task at hand, watching the flickering flames with sole attention.
"And…I'm sorry for slapping you."
Loki's sudden laughter made her jump, and she chastised herself for the action, not wanting to seem weak in front of Thor's brother. He gave her a sideways glance and smirked amusedly.
"Apologizing for striking a mass murderer," he replied, uncrossing his arms and turning to fully face her, "I think you have your priorities mixed up."
Jane shook her head, surprised, and opened her mouth soundlessly, thinking, as he gazed at her, mockingly expectant.
"I didn't-I mean. You saved me, and I thought I'd apologize for hitting-You know, just forget it." She turned back around to face Thor, still kneeling before the bright fire, and crossed her arms angrily, sulking as Loki went back to his previous position, that infuriating smirk glued to his face.
"You're still an asshole," she retorted childishly, and he rolled his eyes, giving barely half of his attention to her rambling, "And me apologizing doesn't mean that I think any higher of you. I was just trying to be nice, since we're stuck on this trip together. You know, being cooperative-maybe you've heard of it." He snorted, and Thor, startled by the loud noise, glanced up, dazed, and blinked at his brother.
"Loki, what's…?" Loki shook his head at the god and smirked, jabbing a thumb over at an indignant Jane.
"She thinks I'm not being cooperative. I'll never understand why, out of all the women in the world, you chose a mere mortal, especially this one."
Standing, Jane felt just about ready to punch him in the face, and he looked up laughingly as she struggled for a rebuttal, a disgruntled Thor taking her side. Loki threw his hands up and shivered jokingly, throat shaking with laughter.
"Oh, the man who can't keep a fire going and a scientist. I'm quivering with fear." Thor, tightening his hold on Mjolnir, practically growled behind Jane, and she narrowed her eyes, more than a little offended, as she put her hands on her hips, turning to gently murmur to her boyfriend, who reluctantly agreed to retreat with a hard glare sent his brother's way. Loki only smiled, and it was the cockiest thing Jane had ever seen on a person's face. Annoyed, she returned to her seat, and he didn't look at all happy about it as he turned back around, acting like she wasn't there.
"Thor's told me a lot about you, you know." Loki remained completely unresponsive, and she picked at a piece of fabric coming undone at the bottom of her silky blue dress, trying to pass the time while Thor resumed his task.
"He says you used to be…different. As in not murderous." For a while, Loki sat, stonily staring at nothing, but he finally tilted his head in her direction, giving her a small glance.
"Then he is a fool," he whispered, and she frowned at the insult.
"What happened, to make you like this?" Jane asked cautiously, and he smirked viciously, a cruel glint in his eyes.
"I've always been like this; your oaf just only realized it when I threatened his precious Earth." She stared, skeptical and reluctant to anger him, but still curious, and that curiosity drove her past reason.
"So, you don't particularly like him anymore, but you still like your mother." His eyes widened, and he turned to her, his face lacking any expression.
"It's quite impossible to favor a dead person, now isn't it?" It was her turn to act surprised, but she quickly quelled the reaction from his suddenly prying eyes, shaking her head.
"Thor tells me that her death was the only thing that motivated you to help him. If that's not love, then I don't know what is," she murmured, and felt encouraged by his silence, "If you can love her, then that part of you Thor has given up on, it's still in there somewhere, right? It has to be."
Blinking, Loki's eyes roamed searchingly over her face, the firelight cast upon her skin dancing in waves across the surface of her eyes, and he took a slow breath to calm himself and the sudden urge to cause physical harm to anyone in near proximity. He could only imagine what Thor would do to him if he strangled the mortal, if only to silence her curious tongue. She sighed exaggeratedly at his reaction, and took it as a sign to continue.
"And if that old you is in there, then he's the one who saved me. Because the you that I know, the evil guy, wouldn't care if Thor got hurt or not. But the person Thor used to see, he cares." Finally, Loki broke into a sigh of laughter, and the emptiness in his eyes scared her more than anything else.
"If I had let you die, Thor would have surely killed me himself, and I don't exactly have a death wish," he hissed, turning away to ignore her, and she frowned.
"Then why did you let go of that staff?" He threw his arms down upon his lap angrily, his voice steely.
"Thor has told you quite a lot, hasn't he?"
"You didn't answer my question."
"And you're irritatingly persistent." Jane stared at him, masking her expressions just as he was doing, already learning.
"That's still not an answer."
The deadly glare terrified her, but she didn't let it show, and he had no choice, after realizing he couldn't manipulate emotions that weren't shown, but to give her a reply.
"Who says I had a death wish?" She leveled him with a hard stare, pursing her lips.
"I know enough about people to know that when one is dangling over a wormhole and chooses to fall into it, there is something seriously wrong." Loki hummed thoughtfully, and she was taken aback by his unpredictable, emotional shifts.
"Such as?" The unconvinced way he looked at her made her offer a casual, mocking shrug, and she smiled at the surprise in his eyes at the notion that she, of all people, could play his game.
"You were an outcast, the way Thor tells it. A part of the family, of course, but you weren't like everybody else. I'd say you were lonely," she offered nonchalantly, and his near playful expression quickly morphed into one of severe sobriety, and she backed away just the slightest, wide eyed and weary of the look in his eyes as he stood, looming over her.
"While this therapy session was amusing, I must show Thor the wonder of magic so he'll stop worrying over that damn fire." He turned dismissively, and she wrapped her arms about her knees from the chill sweeping over them all, the fire already dying despite Thor's arduous efforts.
"I know what it's like to be lonely. So, from one to another, I'd say you might be slightly less of an asshole than average."
He hesitated before the fire, stopping for a mere second before continuing on, and the sudden woosh of magic, just before the struggling fire erupted into a cloud of flame, nearly snuffed out the words she could just barely catch, uttered more to himself than anyone else.
"And you might be slightly more than the average mortal, Jane."
Please R&R! Feedback of any kind is always appreciated! ;)
All rights go to their respectful owners. I do not, regrettably, own Loki. :'(