"There's a time and place for everything, and I believe it's called 'fan fiction'." –Joss Whedon
Sinister
It was dark and silent. The cell was small, padded, and completely secured; underground, in fact. The guards came and went in two-hour shifts; they could not afford to become tired or lose focus while guarding somebody as dangerous and clever as the god of mischief. Loki was an enemy of the state and the planet, and would not be permitted any sort of chance to escape and threaten the safety of humanity ever again, so they said.
The cell was sound-proofed. Thanks to Thor's disclosure to Nick Fury that Loki could quite easily influence anybody, especially mortals, to do his bidding with simply words or thoughts, his chamber had been lined with bullet, fire, and sound proof glass, reinforced by many other metals that, for some reason, Fury believed would hinder his abilities. The guards were there as a deterrent, holding powerful energy guns designed by Stark, but Loki knew, deep down, that every second they stood outside of his door, they were shaking in their scuffed leather boots. Their fingers were tightly clenched around the weapons, but their light nerves would hinder any chance for them to actually act hostile. They were too afraid.
Fury knew nothing. He believed that Loki could be incarcerated here like a beast to a cage. Escape would not be easy, but it was not impossible. He just needed an opening, an opportunity. He had had quite a few chances to break out in the past few months of his detainment, but the time did not seem right. He needed a real plan to not only exact retribution upon the Avengers, but to take the earth and attain redemption. His name and original plan had been tainted. Loki did not need a fresh start; he just needed a fresh idea. Many thoughts and strategies had crossed his mind, but nothing good enough. He could not afford to be sloppy like last time, relying on the army of the Chitauri to win a war for him.
The Chitauri….they would surely come after him for his failure to deliver the Tesseract. They promised wrath, but would they follow through? The Avengers had defeated them once and, due to the fact that Loki had remained on Earth, he thought himself at least temporarily safe while his brother and the five others lived and breathed. They would protect the earth which, in turn, meant protection of him, even if they did not realize it. He could not rely on them for safety, but he could at least use them for this purpose until he came up with a concrete plan. As much as he hated to admit it, he needed an ally.
He had not fared well with an army. Although they were strong, the Chitauri were anything but inconspicuous and their mutated, enormous, and unattractive exterior tended to draw a bit of attention and aggression. It had been easy to gather allies when he had his staff. A simple tap on the heart would immediately overpower a human's mind, turning the victim to jelly in his fingers; however, the lack of the staff was an issue. Fury and the Avengers had taken it to hide in a "secure area." They would not destroy it, the staff was too powerful and enigmatic for them to simply snap and bury. They could not have snapped it even if they had wanted to. No, what he needed was someone who agreed with him and his opinions.
Now that would be a challenge. Like escape, however, it was not impossible. Humans killed one another every day for shallow and foolish reasons. Surely he could find some with similar tastes and minds. Mortals were not the smartest creatures but they were also not the most unintelligent. He had met worse.
A few other "criminals" and "high-risk enemies" resided in nearby cells. For some reason, they had been considered as dangerous as he…as worthy as he. That was a quip. Being in an extremely secured and contained prison did have its benefits, though. The guards may have been guarded against Loki, but others in the prison were not. He read them like open books every night, perusing their minds until his eyelids grew heavy. The other inmates, although there were not many, had interesting thoughts. None of them were quite as quick or imaginative as Loki, but he had taken advantage of some of their contemplations and experiences, storing them away in his own mind for future reference.
These other prisoners, however, were human. They were weak. With each passing day, their physical and mental stamina deteriorated. They would not be suited for a long-term investment of time that required sharp minds and impeccable physical ability. There had been flickers in their hearts, but they had faded quickly, as if being blown out with a single breath. They proved to be nothing more than frail candles whose flames were not able to burn brightly and consistently. This was why humans were so difficult to respect; they had no drive, nothing that truly kept them going.
Loki had ambition and a grudge. That would sustain him for all of his years. He sat back against the cold, metal wall of his cell, running his long fingers through his raven hair. Then, something caught his attention.
A new soul had entered the facility. This one appeared different, stronger and more vibrant than the rest. Give it time, he thought, this one will diminish like all the others. This aura, though, burned bright, like a great fire, a wildfire. Loki needed a wildfire. He needed somebody who could withstand pain and wrath, a warrior with both Asgardian rage and human blood.
He closed his eyes and let his mind wander into the cell of the newcomer. It was a sort of astral projection, in layman's terms. His consciousness hovered outside of the door for a quick moment and then melted through the metal, entering the room stealthily.
He saw a woman standing in the center of the room. She had a somewhat small frame, no taller than six feet, but her stance was strong. She was wearing baggy black pants and a loose shirt, beads of sweat visibly trickling down her collarbones and cut arms. Wavy, dark hair, shining like an amethyst when the light shone upon it, brushed her shoulders and her bright, teal eyes were fixed angrily upon the door that slammed shut in front of her.
Her lips were tight, tense, and silent, but Loki could hear the words she longed to utter: "You will all die for this."
Now there was a heart.
A week passed and Loki continued to watch her. She was a curious girl. She could not have been older than twenty-five in human years, but her eyes revealed her to be a hardened and older soul. Their bright, emerald luster could not hide years of anguish and resentment. There was anger there; anger that could be manipulated and used to his advantage. He expected her aura to grow weak as time passed, but it only seemed to grow stronger. Her determination seemed to burn through the walls like a vapor, inciting a call to action on Loki's part. She would be his ally; he knew it.
On the tenth night of her imprisonment, Loki decided that it was time to contact her. He stood next to the cold, metal wall and placed the palm of his hand firmly against it. He closed his eyes and focused deeply upon the touch. A ghostly imprint of Loki erupted from his body and materialized in front of him, the light eyes, spectral eyes meeting his own. At once, the essence sunk through the wall and traveled into her cell.
The spirit moved in silence, so she did not see him until he moved closer to her. She lay on her back across the bed, staring at the ceiling. It was night time, she supposed, since she felt exhausted. Not that she could tell, though, since the hell-hole was underground. Loki's spirit form grabbed her attention, but she did not react with the initial shock she felt; instead, she simply looked at him. Her eyes traveled from top to bottom.
"Well, you must be a dream." She said simply, her voice surprisingly soft.
"I am no such thing. I'm as real as you," he replied. When her eyes narrowed doubtfully, he added, "I am just in a different room."
She scoffed, "Well I'm definitely dreaming then," she laughed, sitting up and staring directly into his eyes, "because you're a sight for sore eyes in my cell, claiming you're somewhere else. Not many people can be in two places at once."
"Do you know who I am?" Loki asked, his voice with a sharp edge. She clearly did not recognize him; he was in plain mortal clothes. Prison clothes. Rags. The girl stood up and moved closer to him until she was close enough to touch him. Her gaze was sharp and piercing. A knowing look crossed her face.
"Ah, you're Loki, aren't you? You're the brother of Thor, one of the beloved Avengers."
"Indeed. And I have a proposition for you."
She laughed again. "A proposition, huh? Somebody's right to the point. Well, I'm not sure really how much I can do for you in this cell. I'm not giving you a striptease if that's what you're after. Somehow, though, I doubt that's what you want. And even if it was, what's in it for me?" She replied, her voice sarcastic. Loki ignored her mockery.
"Well wouldn't you like to be somewhere else rather than a cell?" he asked. She raised an eyebrow curiously.
"Go on."
"Aid me. Help me find my staff and take vengeance upon my brother and his Avengers." He commanded.
Her expression was blank and difficult to read, even for him.
"Nah, I'm all set." She answered. She turned her back to him and returned to the bed, lying back down with her hands behind her head. He faltered, his initial confidence stumbling.
"Excuse me?" he snapped, anger burning through him.
"Look, I already tangled with your brother and his buddies once. I don't need any more problems, and if I team up with you," she pointed at his spectral form, "Mr. Public Enemy of the Earth, number One, problems are exactly what I'm going to have. I just want to be left alone. So, once again, I'm all set. I'll just rot away in here; I have nothing better to do." She replied, turning her head back to the ceiling. He moved quickly, like a rush of water, to her bedside, placing his arms on the frames on either side of her, leaning down close to her menacingly.
"You will help me." He snarled. She simply glared back at him.
"I'm not afraid of you like everyone else is. Do whatever you want to me, my life might as well be over anyway. I have nothing you can take from me, nothing for you to threaten me with." She said in a low, biting voice.
"My brother and his friends will pay for locking me away here. My mission is retribution and redemption. If you have nothing to lose, if you have no real purpose, why not join me? Redeem yourself while helping me conquer them." Loki whispered, his breath hot on her face. Her eyes flashed, he could see submission and stubbornness battling inside them. About a minute passed as she considered his words.
"Touché."
"So you will join me, then?" he asked, straightening himself up beside her bed. She stood quickly, meeting his level and gaze with a smirk.
"I guess so. Like you said, I've nothing to lose. The only thing I have left is my sanity and that's on its way out the window." She said roughly. Loki watched as she fidgeted with her baggy shirt, revealing a narrow waist and visible hip bones below a long, horizontal scar that seemed to travel beneath her belt.
"So, Mayhem, how are we getting out of here?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
"What did you call me?" he looked at her strangely.
"Oh," she barked a laugh, "I called you Mayhem. I read the stories as a kid, you know, all the Norse legends? You've done some crazy shit, if the myths are true." He paused.
"Let's just focus on getting out of here for the moment." He murmured, taking her arm. She started at his sudden grasp but soon relaxed when she felt his fingers loosen their rough grip.
"What are we doing?" she asked as he pulled her toward the wall. Loki turned and looked at her over his shoulder.
"Hold your breath and close your eyes."
She did as she was told.
An odd sensation flooded through her veins. It was like being hit by a massive wave but without the fear of drowning or being pulled under. It seemed to suspend and activate all of her senses at random and it baffled her immensely. Her eyes were closed and, yet, she could see some kind of smoky essence in front of her face. Shivers ran up her spine even though she was being overtaken by a heat wave. It was the longest and yet shortest ten seconds of her life. When she finally felt the sensations cease, she bent over, resting her hands on her knees as she attempted to catch her breath. When she felt Loki's grip leave her arm, she opened her eyes, slightly stunned and feeling nauseous from the rush of passing through a solid wall.
Slowly lifting her head in a daze, her eyes focused on him, standing tall and straight before her. He stared down at her.
"You are quite skilled in combat, I assume?"
"You know I am. How do you think I got in here? Why even bother asking?" she panted.
He smirked, "I wanted to be sure you had confidence. You'll need it."
The nausea subsided and she rolled her shoulders up to stand straight.
"So, what's the plan?" she asked, running a hand through her dark, violet-tinted hair. Loki looked over at her.
"If you know anything about me, you know that I have abilities and intellect that far surpass that of humans and my brother," he said grudgingly when he thought of Thor, "the guards will, within about two minutes, realize that you are gone. They will undoubtedly check every cell and chamber. I will conceal you and I. Once they enter, we attack and take their weapons. I can, temporarily, grant you strength that is far greater than what you currently possess. I have already projected enough times around the facility to know the way in and out. You will follow me, concealed, and we make our escape. Then-" he explained, but she cut him off.
"If you've had this plan all this time, why are you just escaping now? And why with me?" she asked suspiciously. He was angered by her interruption, but, uncharacteristically, let it slide.
"I knew I could not exact my plans alone. It did not work for me in the past, nor did an army. I've found middle ground in selecting one or a few allies rather than a militia of Chitauri." He explained.
"And I'm your ally?" she repeated slowly, her eyebrows furrowed.
"Yes," Loki said impatiently, "now, after we get out of here-"
"Where exactly is here?" she interrupted again, the corners of her mouth turning up into a sly smile. She was fully aware that she was getting under his skin and she enjoyed it. She would pay for it later, he told himself.
"We're in the state of Nevada, underground, in the desert. Do you have a residence anywhere near here?" He asked. She raised her eyebrows.
"I move around a bit. But I do have a place in Carson City, which, ironically, is here in Nevada." She replied. Loki nodded.
"Then we will go there for the time being. Does S.H.I.E.L.D. know about this place?" he asked.
"I-my place?" a look of surprise crossed her face, "they know about the others, but not this one. I haven't been here in a very long time. Long before I became an object of interest to them, so it's clear. You…want to go there?" she asked, a strange feeling of anxiety erupting within her chest.
"I said that, did I not?" he barked irritably.
"Just making sure." She muttered, feeling small.
"Any other questions?" he sneered at her suddenly shy posture. She shook her head.
"Good," Loki said, putting his hand on her shoulder, "because we have company."
