AKA. In which Loki is a manipulative bastard and gets what he wants. I have no idea where this idea came from. I've been watching way too many ghost stories and stuff. Sort of AU-ish I guess. Wibbly Wobbly Timey Wimey and all that. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!


"Erik, Erik!" She cried happily. "Tell me the story!"

When Jane Foster was very young, no older than five, she had an imagination that ran rampant. Her father said it often went higher than the stars themselves. She was a happy, carefree little girl, whose curiosity led her to listen to everything Erik had to say. She idolized the man, and hung onto every word he said.

He chuckled, "Which one? Idunna's apples? Or what about Brunhilda, Jane?"

She loved listening to the friend of her father, and his wonderful stories. The ones about the old gods were her favorite. Erik was an expert on Norse myths, especially. He shared it excitedly with the little sponge of a girl, because she soaked up everything he told her.

"No!" She answered. "Thor!"

Neither one knew the irony to eventually come.

Though Jane was a happy child, she did not have a very enjoyable time in school. It was not academic of course, because she was very intelligent. In fact, it had been discussed already that Jane could possibly be able to skip a grade or two. She loved math and science, and behaved well. But she didn't exactly get along with the other children. While others played at recess, Jane sat underneath the shade of a tree and read whatever book she had that week. The other children didn't understand her, and Jane didn't bother to understand them. This resulted in Jane getting teased by her fellow peers. Donald, the mean third-grader, liked to call her names and stick gum in her hair.

She came crying home from her school one day to her mother and father. "I hate it!" She sobbed. Her mother hugged her and peeled the gum out, and her father called the school.

Erik was there when it happened. Jane sat sniffling on the couch, looking down at the floor. The man sat next to her, and offered a soft smile. "You know, just imagine if Thor was here." Jane glanced up. "He'd come down from Asgard, just for you. Because he doesn't like it when little girls cry. He'd land down with Mjolnir in his hand, and say," Erik's voice deepened, "'Who would dare make Jane Foster cry?!'" It was so ridiculous, that Jane started giggling.

"And then he'd hit Donald with his hammer!" Jane added, smiling widely now.

As much as Erik told her stories to entertain, the man also used them to playfully scold her.

Though it did not turn out that way for her.

"I want to watch the stars!" Jane demanded at ten at night, refusing to go to bed at all. She was not tired.

"Careful, Jane," Erik replied. "If you don't behave, Loki might be out there, waiting to snatch you up and hand you over to a Frost Giant." He said, when her father could not convince her any other way.

From all her stories she heard from Erik, Loki was one of scariest gods to her. He looked scary in all the drawings she saw in her children's mythology book. He was meant to cause the end of the world, which was both terrifying and confusing for Jane. How could one person cause everything to end?

But he was interesting. In stories Jane heard, he was a trickster, and he always knew how to get out of problems, even though he caused most of them.

It was funny.

She often felt lonely, in her inability to be friends with her classmates. Her mother told Jane that she would have a lot of friends someday, and that she didn't have to worry about it now. But sometimes, Jane glanced around the playground when she looked up from her book, and saw that everyone except her had a friend. They were all together, or in groups, or playing together. And her loneliness grew.

One night, she found she couldn't sleep. And she didn't want to read either, not even her mythology book. The child turned on her lamp, and sat up, glancing up at her ceiling. And suddenly, she had an idea. Jane quickly climbed out from under the covers, and sat on her knees, hands together like she saw people do in the movies.

"Uh... hello up there?" She started quietly. "My name is Jane, and I was wondering if I could talk to you, if that's okay?" Of course, no response. Was she doing the praying right? If Santa Claus was real, it only made sense to Jane that the gods in her books had to be real. There couldn't be another option. "I don't think people talk to you anymore, right?" She inquired. "Well. A lot of people do this stuff with God. But I don't see the difference between God and gods." She said honestly. Her grandma would not be very happy to hear that. "But I think you are real. I know you are." She stopped, not really knowing what to say next. "I just want to say that I'll talk to you every night, I promise. And... maybe we can be friends?"

There was no response.

Jane spoke to the gods every night before she went to sleep, hoping with every fiber in her little body that she would get an answer. "I like you all," she promised. "I'm sorry if I've been saying your names wrong."

No response.

By the tenth night, she was in tears, her hopes on the verge of being destroyed. She did not understand what she was doing wrong. "Are you mad at me?" She asked them, her body shaking with her sobs. School seemed to keep getting worse, and Donald had discovered that she read Norse Mythology, and told her she was going to Hell for believing in them. Jane did not want to go to Hell! It only made it worse. In a fit of anger, she grabbed her book and opened up. "Why can't you hear me?" She asked sniffling. She didn't want to be wrong, they had to be real! Jane started naming off the gods' names. "Idunna, Frey, Sif..." She went through the whole book. "Thor... Loki!" She finished. "Please, could you just talk to me?!" She said, loneliness and disappointment filling her voice. They didn't reply, and they were not real. The child fell asleep in misery and despair.

But she dreamt.

Hush, little one. Be at peace, for I have heard you talk. And I answer.

Inside her dreams, Jane could hear the voice that sounded very gentle and calming, but could not see the figure. She could see nothing. "Who are you?" She asked, in awe. She felt elated, happier than she had ever felt. More happy than when her grandfather had shown her Venus through the telescope. They were real. She knew it all along!

Loki.

"Loki?"

Yes. I can understand you, Lady Jane.

If she was awake, she would have smiled in absolute joy. He called her a lady! Now at first, Jane was a little worried about the trickster being in her head, but that couldn't help but put some reassurance into the child's mind.

"Don't be mad," she began, feeling a little nervous. "But why are you the only one that's talking to me?"

Simply, Lady Jane, the others... they do not care of your plight. They hear your pleads and feast upon them, but do not answer. In the past we have gotten many prayers from you mortals. It was most unusual to hear your voice addressing us. But you see, my dear girl, they decided to ignore you. But I? I am here. And I will help you.

Jane awoke with a start, the sun shining in through her window. With her faith in the gods... in Loki, restored, she jumped out of bed, and ran down the stairs as fast as she could. "Mommy! Daddy!" She called in excitement. "Loki's going to be my friend!" She sat down at the table, nearing bouncing in her chair.

Her mother merely smiled, thinking it was a phase. With one look at each other, Mr. and Mrs. Foster had concluded that their daughter was just forming an imaginary friend. A completely normal part of childhood. "That's great, sweetheart," her father told her. "What were you talking about with him? You better not be getting into any pranks." He mockingly scolded.

I can hear you when you talk to me. But I can only talk to you when you sleep.

He had told her this before she had awakened, and now, Jane couldn't wait to get the day over and just go to bed.

She talked to him often throughout the day, as a friend would talk to another.

"Loki, have you ever had spinach? It's gross."

"I'm okay. He always knocks the books out of my hands."

"What's your favorite color? Mine is silver, like the stars when you see them in the sky."

"I hope you're having a good day."

"This book is really good."

"Did you really turn into a horse?!"

She did not expect the questions to be answered of course, but it made her feel more connected to her new friend.

She went to bed early that night, eager to hear him speak to her as soon as possible.

A couple of weeks later, Jane's parents grew worried. Jane no longer even tried to make friends in her class, according to her teacher. When she had a partner for an activity, she barely said a word to them at all, didn't even try to work with them. The little girl became even more reclusive. After Jane would come home from school, she went up to her room and stayed there.

"Jane," her mother said, "Why don't you invite one of your classmates over for a playdate? I'm sure it would be fun."

The girl didn't seem to hear her mother, concentrating on a picture she was drawing. After a few moments, her head glanced up. "I don't want any of them." Her voice was filled with venom, more bitter than anything her mother had heard before. Mrs. Foster frowned, looking at her daughter in great concern. Jane continued, "None of them are as nice as Loki. Loki understands me." Her mother sighed, wondering if a good parent would tell their child that their imaginary friend wasn't real. "We talk every night, and he tells me a lot of stuff. He knows more than teachers! And he says he needs my help." She set her crayon down and lifted up her paper to show her mother. "This is him!" She told Mrs. Foster, pointing to her drawing. It was of her next to a scribbled man with green clothes and black hair. "And he says that I got to be a scientist to help him. He says he is in trouble."

Mrs. Foster couldn't help but smile, fears abated for now. It was childish fun, right? Just fun. "That's great, honey. I guess Loki knows how much you love science. It sounds like a dream job, huh?"

"Yeah!"

Never doubt yourself, Lady Jane.

Follow whatever path you wish. You will succeed.

Think about it. Do you think that Midgard...in your terms, Earth, is the only planet that exists?

"No."


Mrs. Foster was called by Jane's teacher to come in for a conference about halfway through the year. She silently went through the hallways, her heels clicking on the floors. Straightening her brown hair, she stepped into the colorful classroom, where an aged lady was sitting at her desk, busy writing papers.

Mrs. Foster cleared her throat, "Hello, Mrs. Vanderbilt. I'm Jane's mom."

"Yes, yes," she replied, standing up. She adjusted her glasses, and put on a small smile. She walked over, and the two women shook hands. "You can stand or sit, if you'd like." She remained standing.

"You said you had concerns about Jane?" The mother began, already having a feeling of what was going to occur.

There was a moment of silence before Mrs. Vanderbilt relied. "Mrs. Foster. Jane is a wonderful child. She is possibly the most intelligent student I have ever taught in my thirty years." The mother couldn't stop a small proud smile. "I would actually suggest moving her a few grades up. But..." She hesitated, as if she didn't know how to explain. "Well... I'll just show you," she finally decided. She walked over to the filing cabinet and rummaged through a multitude of projects.

"Mrs. Foster," Vanderbilt continued. "It's completely normal for a child to have an imaginary friend. But... What Jane does is not normal." She told her honestly, not looking at the reaction of the worried mother. "We did a project recently, actually. The kids had to name a role model in their lives. Parents, grandparents, siblings, celebrities. We've had them all. But Jane..." She held up the poster, in which there was a similar drawing that Jane had shown her mother.

On the poster was written:

Loki is my hero. He is the god of jokes. He is my friend. We talk like friends. We talk about lots of things.

Her mother reached out for her daughter's project, sighing as she took it in.

"Obviously there is no such thing as the Norse Gods. But... that's all Jane talks about really. Her 'friend,' Loki, and her budding science interest. That's it. It's your decision of course, what you choose to do, but I fear this may grow to impact her social development."

"I understand."

At the dinner table that night, Mr. and Mr. Foster exchanged looks at each other as Jane obliviously ate her meal. Her father was the one to begin the talk. He cleared his throat before he began. "Jane. I need to tell you something, and you have to listen, okay?"

She glanced up, and nodded her head, "Okay, Daddy."

He took a deep breathe. "Jane... your friend. Loki. He... he's not real, you know that right?"

She quickly responded with, "He is real! I always tell you what we talk about!" The little girl urgently told them.

"Sweetie," her mother interrupted. "You say he talks to you when you're asleep? You're just dreaming, Jane. The Gods in your stories, what Erik tells you? They aren't real."

"Loki is!" She yelled, tears developing in her brown eyes. "I'm not dreaming! I can see him and he talks to me! He tells me that he's falling, and I have to help him get back up when I'm grown up!"

"Shh," Mrs. Foster tried to calm her down. "I know he seems real to you, honey. But it has to stop, okay? You can't replace your friends in school with people from stories."

"They aren't my friends! Loki is! He is real, and I love him! I love him more than you!" The child sobbed, and pushed her plate away.

And that was when the Fosters decided to take their child to counseling.


"The doctor says that I need to stop talking to you."

Do not listen to a word that man says. He is wrong. But I am also disappointed in you, little one. Are we not friends?

"No we are! I'm sorry, Loki! But how do I know you're not a dream?"

... I believe that I can show you. Yes... I believe I can.

The next day, after Donald told everyone that Jane had a deadly disease, an ambulance arrived at school. Many children watched as a distraught Donald was loaded into the back of it, alternating between sobbing and screaming in pain. He had taken a rough fall down the stairs, and his leg didn't look right at all.

And suddenly, the little girl was very much afraid.

It took Jane a long time to fall asleep, because she didn't want to at all! She didn't want to see or hear him, because somehow she knew that he had done something. Jane sat up in her bed, her knees drawn up to her chest. She trembled in the shadows of her room, too afraid to get up and turn on a light. She jumped at every little noise in the house, glancing at her open closet door.

She didn't remember falling asleep.

He deserved it, Jane. Brutes like that deserve to be punished, yes?

"Not like that! That was mean! And... bad... Why did you do it?"

His figure appeared in her head. His familiar green clothes and black hair. He had a smile on his face, a wicked smile. Not the nice ones she had seen previously.

Why not?

She woke up screaming.


There was now a constant buzz in the back of Jane's head. It hurt the small girl like a headache. No matter what medicine her mother gave to her, it didn't help anything.

The only thing that helped was sleep.

Why are you trying to ignore me? Aren't we friends?

"No! I don't want to be friends with you anymore!"

That is a shame. Did you know, Jane Foster, than I can see everything? It is shame that you don't want to be friends. You will need some when you are alone doing your research. When you are laughed at for your ideas. When your parents die.

"Mommy. Daddy. I have to tell you something," she piped up after not speaking for the entire day. She practically shook as she spoke, afraid what would happen. They faced her, offering her a soft smile. "Please don't bring me to the doctor. Please don't be mad." She started to panic, breathing heavily, the full impact of Loki's words in her brain.

"Jane, Jane. What's wrong?!" They inquired.

"Loki says that you're going to die. Please don't die!"

They looked at her in absolute horror.

She was taken back to the doctor, and this time, she was given medicine by him.

Two weeks after that, Mr. and Mrs. Foster were killed in a car accident.

I told you so. Would you like to talk now?

Erik became Jane's guardian after the death of her parents. He tried to be the best that he could be to the now six year-old girl. She seemed eternally sad and frightened. She was too afraid to sleep in her own bed.

"Jane. Would you like to hear a story?"

She looked at him, "I don't want to hear the stories ever again." She told him simply.

You wound me, Jane.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Erik and Jane shortly moved to New Mexico to get away from the place where Jane would never heal. And Jane was thoroughly introduced to science by her guardian. The little girl loved every moment of it.

She slept soundly, and didn't hear that dreaded voice again.

Jane closed off her memories of what happened, moved forward, and forgot.


"Miss Foster," Coulson had said. "Would you continue your research for SHIELD?"

It wasn't like the young woman could have refused.

That was how Jane learned of the Tesseract.

"I'd love to take a look," she told Fury. "If you'd let me. Maybe it would help us establish a connection with Asgard. It could be the key to completely answering the Einstein-Rosen bridge problem." How did it open? How did it work? The Foster Theory was correct, but now it was a matter of figuring out how to operate it from Earth. How to work it, so that if they wanted to, they could travel to other worlds,

She had been correct.

"I'll help too." Erik volunteered. He worked directly with SHIELD, while Jane worked tirelessly (mostly by herself) to discover any connections.

"Try different frequencies."

"Try a different power source."

She gave as many suggestions as she could, both from the small amount of time in the Tesseract's presence, and from theorems and hypothetical situations themselves. She did a lot of number-crunching and research.

"What if the Tesseract is the doorway itself?" She theorized to Erik over the phone.

Then one day, Coulson and SHIELD agents practically broke down her lab doors, knocking over things and scattering papers.

This was not the first time. "Hey! What are you doing?! Don't touch my research!" They were already packing it up.

"Miss Foster, you have to leave immediately," Coulson commanded rapidly, looking as though he had just come from a war zone. "There's been a security breach, and you are being relocated to Norway."

"Wait!" She said, a scowl on her face. "Why? What's happened?!"

An agent grabbed her by her arms, and started escorting her out. Coulson apologized, "I'm sorry, Miss Foster. No time to explain."

And as she was being dragged out, the woman heard a strange but oddly familiar voice.

Well done, Lady Jane. I thank you for your assistance.