Part of me knew it was going to end like this. That they would cage me like the monster they thought I was, that my freedom was only temporary. No one trusted me out there, no matter the effort I needed to be calm and without any problem. No matter the lengths I went to keep the other guy under control. No matter how useful both me and him had been they would always fear me and always suspect me. They built traps for me, serum to neutralize me... on both sides. The bad guys didn't like me because of my strength and the good guys feared me due to the other guy's irrationality. They would put me away with any excuse.
And so, there I was, in an upgraded and improved version of the cage SHIELD had done for me, sitting in a corner, trying to avoid my reflection in the glass. Forever trapped by the ones who were supposed to be the good guys. The one supposed to be on my side. I had thought that I was finally proving myself, making everyone see I was more than a monster. When I met Tony and the others I even felt like part of something good. Accepted and valued for who I was.
But I should've known better. Tony and the people like them are not the authority, not the system. The authority is the one who sent a nuclear missile to end the battle while we were fighting, not caring about all the people there. Safety comes first, they would say and I was a safety hazard. At least, The Hulk was. And after all the damage I'd made in Chicago they were not going to let me out of that place in a really, really long time. I could understand their angle, of course, but it didn't feel right. I had fought and risked many things for them, I had helped with all I had... I was not guilty. I did not deserve a life in prison, did I?
At least they were not experimenting on me. For now.
The Avengers had been angry, of course, and three times they had tried to break me free. As the Hulk had now and then. But to no avail. The cage had been designed by great engineers to withstand high pressure, high temperatures and a lot of strength. Built with the materials they used in travels to outer space and with a some former Stark industries employees to make sure the cage couldn't be penetrated with any weapon built there. It was also immune to Mjolnir and the Captain's shield, for some reason. The highest technology, just the keep me out of the streets. To make it worse, the cage was transported to a different place every time the Avengers tried to rescue him, making everything way more difficult. I had no idea where I could be. And I couldn't be anywhere else.
Since there was a great risk of the operation (yes, they were calling my imprisonment a security operation) being breached by the Avengers, very few people had contact with me. Alone with myself, of all people. And with the other guy, that great company.I was on the verge of a serious depression and I knew it. The rescue attempts from the Avengers had been nice, yes, but... the astounding technology of this place reminded me of what I was, of what I've done. My many sins. The monster who needs to be off the streets, off society. What had happened in Chicago had been dreadful but no one died from his hand (or the Hulk's). Yes, there had been injured people and great damage but...
Did I really deserve this?
Was this all my life was going to be? In jail or in the run for the rest of my life?
Was it even worth it?
One thursday evening (I really couldn't know if it was Thursday or not, or what part of the day it was but I had a slight idea based on the times I was fed) I was simply staring into the ceiling when a strange green smoke started spreading in the cage. As much as I tried to pinpoint the point of origin, I couldn't. Great. Just great. If they had to gas it was probably because something not nice would come afterwards. Part of me wanted to fight, break out the wall, spit in my jailer's faces... but mostly I was tired. Of them, of me, of everything. And giving up was so easy and sweet... I had fought enough already.
Let them come, were the last thoughts in my mind as the smoke filled my lungs and I passed out in my cell. Maybe this was the end. Maybe the gas a soft way of getting rid of me.
And maybe it was all for the best.
When I woke up the first thing I noticed was that there soft music playing somewhere. Lowbeat, gloomy rock and roll. That was strange. In the whole time after Chicago I had not heard one lone note of music. I had asked for music and books and magazines but I was not very succesful. My jail was isolated from the rest of the world, and that meant no cd players or magazine racks.
The second thing I noticed was that I was laying on a soft, fluffy surface. I opened one of my eyes and saw pale green sheets and a black duvet. What the hell? I woke up completely and saw a clean white room, quite small, with nothing except a black nightstand, a shelf with some books and a painting of a green, dark forest. I had no idea where this place could be.
I stood up, putting the sheets aside and looked through the small window of the room. I was apparently in a small house, on a residential street. No idea where. But something looked different here, really different. I saw a young girl riding on her bike and an old couple with their dog. Strange. Why would SHIELD or the government bring me to a city where people actually lived? Wasn't the point of having me in jail preventing just this? Maybe this was not SHIELD. Maybe one of my friends had found a way to get me out using that smoke. Or maybe not. There were no chains or cuffs on me, which was a good sign.
I looked at the books, trying to figure out the identity of the owner of the house. There were some classics (Shakespeare, Wilde, Joyce...), some history books and, surprisingly, some of my books. Maybe this was a fan? I also found a copy of the Evening Standard. Odd. Wasn't that a british newspaper?
I put my shoes on (they had been left near the bed) and went out of the room. There were some posters on the wall, of films and music groups. A perfectly normal house of someone who lived there. But who had the power to get him out of that impenetrable jail and just go home as if nothing happened? There someone singing along the music the door on the left. I moved slowly, just in case. I had no idea what all this meant. I stood on the doorway of the room from which the music came, a big living room with a small tv, a great window and a sofa.
There was a tall man there, barefoot, wearing only black pants and a black t-shirt. His hair was black too and one of his hands was bandaged. I could only see his back as he was organising some books in a really big bookshelf that was also there while singing along with the music.
"Little beast, are you as me? ...Uhmhum... We won't be broken, there's no curse we haven't spoken..."
He apparently sensed my presence and turned.
"Doctor Banner, you awoke! I trust my tiny guest room was comfortable enough?"
Oh my god. I knew that voice, I knew that face, I knew that person.
Loki. Loki. The owner of the house was Loki. Mass murderer Loki. Crazy Loki.
"Why the fearful expression, Doctor? Please, do not concern yourself. I have no plans of taking over your world. Anymore."
A sly smile played on his lips.
"Would you like some breakfast, Doctor? I made some tea."
I didn't know if I should be scared or thankful. What the hell did this mean? And why was Loki being so civil and... human?
"You rescued me from that cell? Why?"
"Well, my brother and his comrades were not being too succesful, now, were they?"
Loki left the room gracefully, still humming the song (No prayer... and no hell but the one we made) and went to the kitchen. Could Loki really be leaving here like a normal person? The alien prince? The CRAZY alien prince? And why help me? I followed him to the kitchen, confused.
"Why would you help me? Are you expecting something in return?" I asked, nervous. I knew that if there was something evil the other guy might show up and I didn't want to go all smash-mode when there people around. Loki went to a pile of books in a chair (the guy had books everywhere, I realised. Never thought I would have that in common with Loki, of all people) and retrieved a magazine. He opened it and handed it to me, calm as ever. I saw the article in the page. It read "The day we managed to capture the beast" and featured a photograph of me in my lab coat.
"They are very unkind to you, Doctor Banner. Saying horrible things, degrading you. And everywhere in the media they keep saying how beastly you are, that you're even a worst monster than me, just... distasteful things. And I have read your books, they have helped me understand the working of this planet. You are obviously far more intelligent than the people who write this articles. I am not fond of insults like those. I am not fond of bullies like the governments, of their cages and cells. They use the raw force to squash us, to break us. They should know they are no rival to a clever should know they will always lose."
So, apparently Loki kind of liked me. I didn't know if I should be scared or flattered.
On the other hand, I was starting to like him. And that should definitely scare me.
He poured some tea in two cups, cut a couple of pieces of chocolate cake and smiled.
"Besides, if us monsters don't help each other, who will?"
For some reason, his smile was not as creepy as it used to be. He looked calm, stable. The crazy was still there, but it had faded a lot. Even if his expression was not creepy, his face was. There something that looked like half-healed chemical burns surrounding his pale eyes, a long scar that went down his face splitting the left eyebrow and crossing the whole cheek, as well as some other badly healed or scarred cuts and burns in his face and neck.
"Aren't you supposed to be a prisoner in Asgard? Thor thinks you're there, at least." I said.
"And if you go to Asgard there is a man in my cell wearing my face and voice and body. But he's not me, only another prisoner I'm using. I only had to fool the gatekeeper with a couple of spell.. et voilà! I couldn't bear that place any longer."
The guy was not dumb.
"They won't look for you if they don't know you're gone. Smart." I sipped the tea."God! This is delicious!" Loki smiled at the comment. "Where are we, by the way?"
"London. Is a good place to go unnoticed. There are so many strange people here that a man with scars in his face and a house full of books is almost considered normal."
"You've been living here long?"
"About ten months.
god of mischief had been living here, in London, drinking tea and reading about physics. Maybe he wasn't as crazy as I once thought. Maybe there was more to Loki than met the eye. This was really turning out to be an interesting day. I was still shocked and maybe I shouldn't be trusting the guy, but... what the hell.
He saved me when I had already given up.
And I was grateful.
And the tea was really delicious.
A/N: There is not enough Bruce/Loki friendship in this site, so I'm fixing it. Dont' know if I'll follow or leave it here. Hope you liked it!
Reviews are love!