Natasha's words sounded distant as she repeated herself. "Nick Fury is dead."
Caught completely unawares, Loki searched for words. He had never liked the director but out of anyone at S.H.I.E.L.D. he had respected the Midgardian. "I'm sor- how? What happened?" He had his assumptions but confirmation was what he desired.
The line went quiet for a moment and when Natasha did respond it was in an urgent tone, previous shakiness almost entirely absent from her voice. "Steve, he- I shouldn't- listen, Loki; something's up. Steve- he… I can't talk to you like this. I have to go." She breathed deep, sadness mixing with her urgency. "They're preping his body, I- I need to say goodbye."
"You're in D.C., yes?"
A beat of silence, then Natasha's hurried response. "Yes. Loki, you're the only person I'm calling… okay? Now I'm hanging up."
The line went dead and Loki let his eyes fall to the floor. Noticing the vast array of glass shards that surrounded his feet like a minefield. He gave the wrecked orb a moment's pause before choosing to ignore the mess and stepping away from it; pacing as his train of thought continued on. His mind whirled around what Natasha had said to him, and what she had not.
Whatever had happened to Fury, Loki assumed assassination, the most obvious conclusion for a figurehead such as the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. It hadn't been a simple hit, not only did Loki doubt Fury would have been easy to eliminate; the thought had scarcely crossed his mind in different times, but Natasha would not be so rattled unless there was something more and she didn't know what it was. By her evasive words it seemed she worried about being recorded, a reasonable fear in his eyes as Midgardian communication technology always seemed so reliant on easily stolen algorithmic programs.
"Surely though… S.H.I.E.L.D. monitors the airways of their top agents for tampering… Oh, you dunce, obviously… S.H.I.E.L.D. has many enemies." Repeating a rhetoric he recalled Clint telling him when he first arrived on Midgard; Loki wondered how many of those enemies were from inside the agency itself. How far in over their heads were Natasha and Steve? It was clear the former suspected some deal of tampering, but how deep that rabbit hole went remained unknown. And Steve, he was smart but no agent of espionage; Loki had serious doubts of Steve's capabilities in that field.
"I on the other hand…" His eagerness trailed off and he ceased his pacing, gazing down with unease toward his arm. He had hated making his whereabouts constantly known to people whom he had some degree of begrudging trust. Now, with what scraps of trust he had undermined entirely, he realized his own vulnerability. With the tracker in his arm, if the hit truly was an inside job, he'd be more of a burden than an aid to the two. If he was going to help something would have to be done about the thing.
His first instinct was Tony; the man had made the thing and surely had programmed in an off switch of sorts. "Jarvis, could you send a message to Tony for me? As directly as possible, preferably."
"Of course, sir. Though he may not respond immediately, the time being what it is."
Scoffing, Loki massaged his forehead. "Really- there is some kind of urgency protocol, is there not? Do not answer that; I know there is, so tell him to get to New York. That there is an emergency and I need his help but I cannot tell him what said emergency is."
With his message sent, Loki drew a blank on what could be done next. Should Tony not come through there was the option to tear the tracker free himself but Loki recoiled at the idea. The measures against such actions were severe. While he knew he could do such a thing and live, it was a last case scenario he'd rather not breach.
00000
A far too long debriefing and a quick change of clothes later and Natasha slipped back into the hospital where she had confronted Steve. Hood up, head down, she walked past nurses and avoided the odd straggling S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.
Steve knew something; Fury had told him something he was keeping to himself. Why he didn't trust her with that information annoyed her to no end, as did having to clean up after him, making sure what he was hiding didn't fall into the wrong hands.
It didn't take her long to find the thing. She muttered under her breath as she fished in her wallet for quarters. "I can't believe- c'mon Steve, I know this isn't exactly your element but… A vending machine?"
With a pocketful of gum and the USB stick in hand, Natasha slunk into the shadows of an empty room, waiting for Steve to try and retrieve his burden. She stared down at the little silver device, a pit in her gut.
Whatever was on this thing is what got Fury killed. She had given it to him and hours later he's attacked by the Soldier. It was her fault he was dead. She felt the long healed wound on her stomach the Soldier had given her years ago, closing her eyes, she tried to shake her guilt.
Another person she had cared about was dead because of her. Another one.
"Dammit. Get a grip."
Clearly whatever was on the drive was important. Surely Fury never would have let its existence leave the tiny circle of people he trusted. Sure, the thing had a tracking program but everyone who jacked the Lemurian Star was either dead or jailed. The hit had to have come from inside S.H.I.E.L.D. How deep it all went, though, that was the real mystery.
Reaching out to Loki had been a gut reaction. He was the only person she could think of that had no real respect for S.H.I.E.L.D. and who had expertise in any kind of espionage. It cut her deep not to contact Clint but it was too risky; he was halfway across the world on another mission and likely surrounded by possibly hostile S.H.I.E.L.D. She wasn't sure yet how deep they were in this, but Fury's death would have consequences yet to unfold. As hard as she tried, she could be sure what those consequences would be, but any kind of backup would be a load off her back.
It wasn't long until the first wave of those consequences hit.
Her phone lit up, a new development sent out to all S.H.I.E.L.D. agents regardless of their standing: Steve Rogers; enemy to S.H.I.E.L.D., report sightings but do not engage. Highly dangerous.
"Oh… ohh. Okay, we're in deep shit." Unwrapping a stick of gum, she popped it in her mouth, sent a text to Loki. Her phone rang, it was Clint. She pocketed her phone, not answering, with a weight in her chest. All she had to do now was play the waiting game.
AN: First two chapters out! There will be updates every two days because for once I actually finished a story before starting to publish it. Would love to hear feedback even though these two chapters are pretty short.
