Hi guys,
Okay, so this is my first fic, wish me luck! It was inspired by a late night reading Fanfiction.
A big thank you to Mimbillia, my beta reader, for battling seas of punctuation mistakes :)
Lets get on with it…
When the Bifrost struck the rug in Nick Fury's office setting alarms blaring across the entire SHIELD base, Fury simply hit the master override switch, unfazed. He looked at the pattern now burnt on the rug, then up at the unexpected visitor.
"I hope you're gonna pay for that."
Thor shifted slightly, looking at the pattern, which was smoking slightly.
"Perhaps this can go some way towards compensating for your loss."
Thor pulled a bony man from where he had been lurking at his shoulder. Fury lifted his chin slightly, before making a curt not. He recognised the slim face, and dark hair.
"Compliments of Odin, in recognition of the pain he caused you."
"You don't want him?"
"No." Thor glanced at the man standing in front of him, who was shivering slightly. "He deserves to be punished by the people who he harmed."
"Very well Thor."
"Thank you, director Fury." Thor was then consumed by the Bifrost, disappearing. Fury turned to the raven haired man standing barefoot in his office.
"Well Loki, what am I going to do with you?"
"DUCK!"
The Wii remote flew through the air, only to be snatched by Natasha just as to was about to strike the window.
"I thought we told you to put the strap on?"
Clint bit his lip, and squirmed slightly."Sorry.
The avengers were having a games evening, which was rapidly turning into a deadly match of Wii bowling. Natasha was perched on the arm of the sofa, smirking and dangling the remote in front of Clint's nose.
"Put the strap on."
Tony stood at the kitchenette, hopefully out of remote range, with a glass in his hand. He took a large slurp, trying to calm his nerves. It hadn't been all that long since the entire room had been a smashed up wreck, and he was beginning to think arming Bruce, Steve and Clint with the controllers was asking for trouble.
"Ooh! Can we try fencing?" Steve asked earnestly, about to click on the icon.
"No!" Tony barked "No, god, for the love of intact windows and un-smashed TV's!"
Steve looked very confused, not quite aware as to how close they had been to a smashed window. Natasha held up a hand to her mouth, trying to hide a smirk.
"I have Director Fury on the line, sir." Jarvis' voice rang out over what could have become a pandemonium.
"Thank god." Tony muttered "Put him on the main screen."
"Over your game?"
"Yes, Jarvis, over the goddamn game." Tony took another shaky sip of scotch.
Fury looked down at the Avengers, giving them a once over, noting the snacks on the coffee table and the games and films spilled out on the floor.
"Am I interrupting something?"
"No, of course not sir." Steve answered, glancing at his team mates "If you want to talk to us as a team, we're one short."
"I know that Captain. In fact Thor has just visited me. And I only need one of you." The oversized head of Fury turned to look at Natasha, who had her arm dangled over Clint's head.
"We need our best …ahem , agent."
The unspoken message in the word Fury chose set the previously relaxed room on edge. Natasha bowed her head slightly, knowing it was her job to go.
"I'll be there presently sir." Natasha gave Clint a quick peck on the forehead. She turned to Tony.
"We'll do Twister when I get back."
Tony finished his drink, before casting his eyes around the room. He didn't think there was anything too valuable they could break.
Natasha went straight to the interrogation rooms, where Fury and a few choice agents were waiting.
"What were you doing when I called?"
Natasha stared at the door, trying to quell a slightly sick feeling that was rising. She didn't like this aspect of her job, but so long as she did it, there wasn't another poor soul who would have to learn.
"Wii."
Fury smiled, recalling the last time he had caught the Avengers playing Wii. It had involved copious amounts of alcohol, a full scale assault on Stark Tower and a lot of traumatised agents. Apparently Barton's dancing was that bad. After that Just Dance was banned.
"Who is it?" Nat asked, effectively breaking Fury out of the amusing memory. The smile slid of his face. He simply leaned forwards and opened the door, "Compliments of Odin."
Loki looked up, making eye contact with Natasha for an instant before looking down again. Natasha's eyes widened slightly, and she turned back to question Fury, but the door had been closed behind her. The message was simple. Find out everything. Don't hold back. Natasha went over to the prince and squatted down in front of him. She took in all the appearance of the prisoner; the sunken eyes, hollow cheeks, the slashes in his clothes and lack of shoes. But most of all she saw the angle of his shoulders and the reluctance to meet her eyes again. He looked… she tried to think of a word to sum it all up… He looked tired, injured, abandoned and suspicious. He looked defeated.
"Well, Agent Romanoff?" Loki had an edge to his voice; it sounded like he was dancing the line between screaming and crying. As if he was losing control. Natasha didn't like it at all. She could see where he had been hurt, and where he was trying to hide it, because she knew the signs from her own experiences. What had happened to the god who she had seen in the cell? He had been able to twist her words and manipulate without trying; the wreck in front of her would obviously struggle to keep up a conversation. Fury evidently expected her to be violent and encounter resistance. Natasha didn't think either would happen. It was the whole 'good cop, bad cop' routine. She would be kind now. She could be nasty later. She stood up and walked round to Loki who pressed himself further into the corner, turning his head away from her. She sat down next to him, giving his shoulder a slight nudge, and felt him tense up beside her, a tiny whimper escaping his lips.
A whimper? Natasha frowned. The last time they had met, everything that he said or did was measured, controlled. Nothing happened involuntarily. What had happened to him?
"Loki." Natasha tried to think of what to say. What did they do to you? How come you're down here? Why did you aid the Chitauri? What did you do to Barton? What came out was slightly different.
"Can I help?" She asked softly. It was the only thing she had ever wanted to hear when she herself was being tortured. It gave you the option to refuse, to put up a guise of strength. But you could say yes.
"No" Loki's voice broke halfway.
Natasha didn't think it was because he wanted to look strong, but because she could genuinely do nothing. She caught herself then. What was she doing? This was the war criminal, the murderer and alien nutcase who had nearly levelled Manhattan. He had manipulated everyone, controlled everything. He had almost driven Clint insane. Selvig had gotten into the habit of going out commando. He could be playing her right then. Time for some bad cop.
"Well, you can help me." Loki tensed again and this time Natasha felt a slight tremble as well, that continued after he had forced himself to relax. She glanced at the door, wondering what the god could offer Fury in terms of infomataion. Her mind settled on one subject; the Chitauri.
"How can we protect ourselves against the Chitauri?"
"I don't know."
"Come on Loki, you were their ally. You led their army. No way can you expect me to believe you don't know their weaknesses."
"So everyone keeps…" Loki drew his knees up, coughing harshly. When he started speaking, there was a rattle to his breath. "…keeps telling me. I don't remember any of the crimes you accuse me of."
"You knew my name."
"And so I must remember you? No. Thor simply told me of you, and what I did."
"Yeah right."
Loki looked up at Natasha, and she suddenly got a sense of how far up the creek they really were. He looked at her with the greenest eyes she had ever seen. They were a beautiful, vivid green. Not the pale icy depths she knew so well. Not the eyes that haunted her dreams.
Shit.
"Can I stand?" Loki asked. Natasha had to process what he had actually said, as she had not been paying attention.
"You don't need my permission."
"I was under the impression that I did."
"Er, go ahead then." Natasha shuffled away from Loki, and pushed herself up. Loki leant heavily on the wall for support. His legs shook from the effort.
"'Cause I'm so generous, feel free to walk around a bit too." Loki didn't even look up.
He took a few shaky steps. He looked like Bambi, barely able to find his feet. He got four steps, before his knees gave way. Natasha reached out to grab his shirt to stop him, but it couldn't bear his slight weight. It tore, leaving Natasha with a beaten up panel of green cloth, staring at Loki, who was sprawled on the floor. Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped. His torso was a mess of blue, purple and red. The smell that hit her like a wall was that of rotting flesh. Some of the gashes were oozing blood or other liquids. Nat could see the traces of knives, whips, bullets and acids. Those didn't even account for some of the more insidious looking wounds. Loki didn't rise from the dropped the shirt, and turned round in anger, pounding on the door and swearing in Russian. Someone got the message because the door swung open. Nat stepped out and looked at the director.
"I'm not going to torture him." She growled, "Someone's already done you dirty work for you." She stormed down the hall, tears in her eyes. Because all she could think of was the seven year old, screaming out, bleeding out. Hoping that there was only one man in the world, the universe capable of doing what he had been doing. But Loki's torturers were an entirely different league.
Thank you for reading. Please review. I will continue this.
