My resident plot bunnies got restless, and decided to latch onto my ankle, and they refused to let go. I realized then that the only way to repel the critters was to write this. Expect some OOC-ness, as I've only seen the movie once. I don't know if it will get a plot any time soon, so until then, enjoy! Virtual shawarma and Dr. Pepper to all reviewers! I own nothing, except for the theory on white walls.
He was alone. Alone and unable to speak, thanks to that damnable muzzle. The silver contraption made his chin itch, and every time he tried to lift it to scratch underneath, he received a powerful electric shock. If it was powerful enough to get his attention, he couldn't imagine what it would do to a mere mortal.
He did the only thing he could then, which was wait. Wait for the others to decide his fate, and then face that decision without showing them they were right. He hated himself, but at the same time, he couldn't bring himself to admit it. He stared at the white wall in front of him. Maybe the reason people went crazy in hospitals and such places was that the color white left too much to be imagined. Imagination was a dangerous thing, especially in a half-monster demigod. His theory on white walls was beginning to seem reasonable to him now. He was beginning to see imaginary swirls of color covering the blank space before him. That wasn't a good sign. He stalked over to the other side of the cell, leaned his head against the cool pane of glass and closed his eyes. After a moment, he slid down to his knees.
He didn't deserve this. He was a prince among gods, second only to Thor. A tear stung his eye remembering all they had done as children. He immediately buried the emotion. He would claim no kinship with Thor. He, Loki Laufeyson, was a monster, hated by Asgard, condemned by humankind. Some wounds are beyond mending, and this was one of them. He was startled out of his reverie when he heard someone typing in a pass code to the glass cage he was held in. He glanced over and saw Natasha coming towards him. His eyes narrowed. She was the last person he wanted to see.
"Hey. Fury wants to talk to you." Make that second to last. I really don't want to talk to Mr. Fury right now, thank you very much.
"I know. I know. I wouldn't want to talk to him either. You really screwed up, you know that?" What do you mean 'screwed up'? I don't understand this Midgardian slang. Speak properly, mortal!
"At least we're not letting Banner interrogate you. Look on the bright side." Loki rolled his eyes. Natasha chuckled. You have an interesting definition of 'bright side', Miss Romanov. Natasha led him out of the cell, and down the hall. Two burly guards followed on either side, ready with stun guns if Loki tried anything. They were, however, unneeded. They made it to the interrogation room without incident. Director Fury sat at the table, ready to begin talking. Thor stood at the end of the room, watching and keeping record on behalf of Asgard. He was clearly nervous, judging by how his fist kneaded the leather-bound handle of Mjolnir. Loki was forced to sit across from Fury, and the guards fastened his wrists to the arms of the chair. They removed the silver muzzle. Loki took this opportunity to rub his chin against his lapel. Once the itch was properly taken care of, he sat up in his chair.
"Good afternoon, Director Fury." He said casually. Fury glared at him. Even with one eye, the man could make the strongest Marine tremble with fear. Loki, however, was unmoved.
"Loki. You know why you're here, don't you?" The corner of Loki's mouth twitched in a suppressed smile.
"Yes I do. I realize now that I was wrong." Fury sat forward. Clearly he had not been expecting this.
"About…?" he prodded. Loki glanced down at the tabletop for a moment.
"About everything really." Fury stared at Loki in amazement. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I now regret killing Coulson. But my apology isn't why I'm here, is it?" Thor was nodding. Nick glanced over at the muscle-bound god of thunder.
"I think I'll let your brother explain." Loki shook his head.
"Adoptive brother, Director."
"Whatever. Just listen to what he has to say. Got it?" Loki nodded his assent. Thor set Mjolnir on the end of the table.
"Adopted or not, you will always be brother to me. Now listen to me. I have spoken to the All-father, and he wishes for you to stay on Midgard for a year to learn why the human race should be left to its own devices. Then you shall be welcomed back to the halls of Asgard, and given back your place." Loki's eyes lit up at the thought of home. But was it really home to him? "If you decide you like it better here, you will be allowed to come and go as you please between the realms of Asgard and Midgard. This is the command of Odin." Loki nodded, playing out all the scenarios in his head. Assuming the worst would never happen, it might not be a bad idea.
"It can't hurt, I suppose. No one will trust me, though." Fury spoke up again.
"Then you'll have to earn their trust, Loki. Consider StarkTower your new home from now on. Tony and Dr. Banner are working on finishing out a room for you as we speak. You'll be allowed to talk to the others on a regular basis. But the first signs of you dropping your end of this deal, we put you back in the cell you just came from." Thor cut in here.
"Odin has seen fit to strip you of most of your magic during your stay here on Midgard. Once you have been deemed worthy of it again, it will be given back." Loki watched his brother.
"I understand." He said quietly. The two guards unlocked the restraints on the chair. He held up his pale arm, studying it, and rubbing some circulation back into it. Thor helped him up, pulling him into an enormous bear hug.
"I love you, brother. I want to see you restored." Loki returned the embrace half-heartedly.
"Thank you. Brother."
