Waking up after being knocked out was not a new sensation to me, but I hated it every time. My mouth was dry and my tongue thick. I could feel cold metal with my fingertips, but as my hands were chained above my head, I couldn't see if it was the wall, my handcuffs, or something else entirely. My shoulders ached. The sleep that lingered in my eyes made it hard to focus. All I saw was black. And green, in a corner. Loki.

"I really hate waking up chained to a wall," I muttered.

"You hate it?" came his smooth voice. "Or is it that you dislike it?"

"I hate you. I dislike being kept in this position."

He chuckled coldly. "On the contrary, I am quite fond of this situation. It is easier for both of us." I heard quiet footsteps, but couldn't see him move. "You are brave." His voice seemed to come from far away. "Brave, but foolish," he whispered in my ear.

I jumped away, wrenching my arms. "Gah!"

Loki chuckled again. The sound echoed around me. It was dark, I was trapped, and Loki was much, much more powerful than I was. I had killed my most trusted ally. Despair surged through my body, worsening my aches and tightening my heart so much it hurt.

"Yes..." Loki's voice came from no discernible direction. "Anguish, misery, pain, it all makes you weaker." Maniacal glee tinged the demigod's voice. "You are a hopeless creature."

"No more than you," I hissed. Sinking into depression was oddly tempting, but if Loki wanted me to, it was the last thing I should do.

White light suddenly flared above me. I winced and ducked my head, waiting for my eyes to adjust. When I looked up, Loki's face - pale as snow - was inches away. His yellow-green eyes flashed angrily. A strand of black hair fell over his face.

When he spoke, the words were soft, but with an underlying edge that reflected the intensity of his stare. "I was hopeless," he corrected, grinning in a way that frightened me greatly. I felt a cold touch on the side of my face, but it vanished almost as quickly. A strange, almost beatific tone entered his dreadful voice. "Long ago. I knew pain. And grief. Yet I have risen above those that caused me pain. I have seen the universe for what it is, and learned my rightful place within it. I have been... enlightened. I am above you, and your mortal race... and I will always rule over you, the creatures of darkness. Without me, you are nothing." I leaned back, pressing my head against the wall. Loki's cold breath still washed over me. "You are afraid of me," Loki breathed.

I was more than scared. I was terrified. Over the years, I had been shot at, chased, hunted, punched and kicked, rejected, accepted, captured and tormented. My strength had kept me alive. But none of that compared to this. I was an ant, waiting to be crushed.

Loki backed away, eyes softening slightly. "You are afraid when you should be enthralled."

"What are you talking about?" I demanded in a rush. It was too late to retract my words when I realized I was taking the bait he had thrown out in front of me.

The bright light illuminated the demigod's intricate, heavy clothing. A slow smile crept over his sharp face. "Power, Natasha. I am talking about power greater than any you can imagine. The ability to make people bow before you, to have fountains of wine spring up in your footsteps. To have gold surround you, to envelop your enemies in choking mist, to spark rebellions with a word. All this, at your fingertips." Loki's smile widened even further. There was no malice in it. Only pure joy.

"I don't want it," I said flatly. He was insane.

"I think you do," he replied softly, leaning in. I shivered at his cold presence. "You want power more than anything..." Loki twisted a strand of my hair around his finger.

"No!" I gasped, trying to pull away. But the chains did not release their biting grip on my wrists, and the only thing I succeeded in doing was making Loki angry. He bared his teeth, growling at me like a wild thing.

Angry and desperate, I turned my head away and squeezed my eyes shut. If I let the tears fall now, they might never stop.

"There is nowhere to run, Natasha." Loki's voice sank back into a tantalizing whisper. "You have only to side with me, to aid me in my noble cause. Or, you can die."

I looked up at him again and gave him what I imagined was a steely-eyed glare. It was difficult to keep from showing my fear on my face. I hoped I was succeeding. I was dizzy, and could feel a bruise throbbing on the back of my head. "I would rather... die... than to side... with the monster... that destroyed... Clint Barton," I spat, panting in between the broken fragments of my sentence. There was nothing more he could take away from me. It did not matter if he knew my one weakness. Agent Barton was dead and gone.

Loki took several slow steps backwards, retreating to a dark corner of the room where I could no longer see him, and grew silent.

After a moment, I heard his voice again, this time sounding more distant and somewhat detached. "I would strongly dislike having to prove you wrong." His echo of my earlier words went almost unnoticed. "Would it not be easier to give in now, and avoid unnecessary hardship?"

I remained silent.

There was a dull click, and a single, dangling lightbulb flickered on overhead. For the first time I could see my surroundings clearly. The room was small and had no windows. The one door that stood in the far corner appeared to have been bolted shut, and in the middle of the floor there was... a bed? A bed without a headboard, mattress, or pillow. It looked more like a table than a bed, but someone was lying on top of the hard surface, apparently sleeping. His chest rose and fell in an unsteady rhythm, and his eyes were closed. It looked like...

"Clint!"

Feeling my heart jump – and then skip a beat – I tried to rise, tried to go to him, but was held fast by my chains, caught like a bird in a cage. I felt blood ooze around the manacles and trickle down my sleeves.

Loki sauntered toward the table, watching me out of the corner of his eye. "Since there is nothing that could change your mind, I suppose I should simply dispense with him now..."

I froze, paralyzed by my own fear. Was that really him? Barton was dead. I had seen him for myself. But then, they called Loki a god. Could Barton's gruesome demise have possibly been some sort of trick? Could this be a trick?

As if he knew exactly what I was thinking, Loki smirked and shook his head at me. "I am powerful, Natasha. Believe what you will about Barton. The mistake will be yours."

I watched in horror as Loki placed the point of his scepter on Barton's throat. A stream of red lanced down the side of his neck, and I cried out. "Stop!"

Loki paused, turning his head slightly to look me in the face. His demonic eyes gleamed, reflecting the dim lightbulb that hovered above the table. "I think not, Agent Romanoff." He lifted the scepter and moved it to Barton's wrist instead. "Do you think," he began softly, "that it will be hard for him to shoot with only one hand?" Before I could say anything, Loki sliced off Barton's hand. Blood gushed from his mutilated arm as his back arched and his mouth fell open in a silent scream.

"No!" My scream was far from silent. "No! How could you do that?" I stared at Barton in horror. He lay panting on the bed, eyes screwed shut.

A pleased light entered Loki's eyes. "Then you will accept my offer?"

"Not on your worthless life," I growled without hesitation. Barton wouldn't want me to give into this monster just because of this. But he had lost his greatest weapon. What good was Hawkeye without a bow?

"Hmm..." The scepter drifted with Loki's hand again. "If he means so little to you..." The weapon was poised over Barton's throat once again. In horror, I watched as Loki cut a thin red line into Barton's skin. Skin that I had kissed.

I swallowed a lump in my throat and gulped for air, still straining against the chains. "Don't touch him again! I will..." I paused, wavering as Loki stared expectantly at me. My insides began twisting themselves into a knot as I pondered how much I would give to defend Barton's life – and with no guarantee that what I saw before me was any more real than the vision of Loki that had marched up the stairs in the helicarrier.

And I knew that I could not take a chance. I could not risk losing Barton twice. My heart pounded erratically and sweat slicked my palms, but I finally managed to whisper the words: "I will do whatever you ask."

A devilish grin stole over Loki's pale face, and he snapped his fingers. Barton disappeared. So quickly, so quietly. The vision was gone. And I knew I had been deceived.

I slumped wearily against my chains, the pain in my wrists and arms suddenly feeling like nothing. Soft footsteps marked Loki's movements, but I was too defeated to care. He had tricked me. I had fallen for it like a raindrop from the sky. A gentle finger lifted my chin.

"No mortal can beat me at my game," Loki said in a voice that I suspected to be his perverted version of soothing. "Do not feel discouraged."

Minutes ago I would have replied snarkily. Something along the lines of, "You think that will make me feel better? Stark is more comforting than you are." But now I just stood there, insides twisted and hollow.

"You will do whatever I ask, hm?" Loki continued. "I'm surprised at you, Natasha Romanoff. There are many ways I can exploit those words, but for now, I will simply give you what I promised. Power."

Loki stood a foot away from me, green eyes narrowed in concentration. My chains suddenly vanished. I would have fallen if he had not caught me and propped me up against the wall again. "Weak human," he muttered. With hands braced on my shoulders, Loki stared deep into my eyes. He began to chant in a soft language I didn't recognize. Was this the language of Asgard? Or did they speak English?

"I'm going insane," I mumbled, the edges of my vision blurring.

"You become accustomed to it, I assure you."

Blackness covered my vision like a heavy blanket. Not again...

Co-written with Alassiel
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