Chapter Two
The gathered super heroes had their jaws on the floor. Loki's child? Thor looked further troubled, his heavy eyebrows furrowed.
"This is troubling indeed friends. Loki has not been in contact with any of his children since before Midgard became a player in the nine realms." Thor revealed, his blue eyes piercing the rest of his shield brothers. "His anger will be great if we separate the two again."
The Avengers stiffened. Loki on a good day was bad enough, but Loki on a protective streak would be worse. Clint groaned internally. Having one Loki was more than enough two would be impossible. The doors to the elevator opened, Bruce and Helen Cho stepped into the briefing room, blood still on their clothing.
"He's stable, finally. But we will have to keep an eye on him. By the looks of things, he's been cut open a lot. We suspect vivisection." The news was bad enough without the doctor's report. The possibility of the young man being subject to medical torture was difficult to wrap their heads around. Steve poured himself a drink.
"We have received news that the kid is Loki's son. They were separated for millennia before now." Natasha filled their teammate in, her thoughts warring with her training. On one hand, they could handle things here on their own. On the other, Fury needed to know that there were now three Asgardians on his planet.
"Oh. Which one?" Clint looked at Bruce in the hopes of it being a joke. If Loki had more than one demon spawn, he would shoot the alien.
"Which one?" He hissed, pointing his fork at the gentle giant, almost threatening.
"Well, yeah. Mythology shows that he had at least six. There may have been more." The gathered heroes groaned collectively. There were possibly six others, six that could make a move to support their father.
"Thor is this true? Are there more of his children?"
"Indeed, Loki has five others. But they are no threat. Sleiphner remains in Asgard, he serves as my fathers' steed. Jormangandr and Fenrir are bound in monstrous forms to a single location, far separated from each other and unable to leave. Hela rules in Helheim as the queen of the dead, and Vali and Narfi have both perished in their younger years." Thor intoned softly, his thick voice leaving no room for misinterpretation. The children were mourned, missed and loved by Loki and his adopted family. Loki loved his children, and they loved him, but they would not come to his aid.
Tony stood calmly in front of the glass. The Asgardian exile looked both enraged and fearful at the same time. Tony observed him carefully. The god was haggard looking and his clothes were covered in the blood of the boy they had brought in, his son. It seemed odd, the idea that Loki had a child, several children if his mythology was correct.
"So which one is he?" Tony asked glibly, trying to seem nonchalant about the whole situation.
"What?" Loki frowned slightly, most might have missed it if they weren't standing so close to the glass of the prison.
"Which son is he? You know, the horse, the snake and the wolf. Or the other wolf. I think, was that right? There were two wolves?" Loki took a calm step away from the glass. His face was a mask of control, but his frame was shaking with pure rage. His hands clenched into fists at his side.
"Do not dare to speak of my children in this way again. Should you ever refer to my children as monsters, I will cut you lungs from your body… and shove them through your nose into your stomach." Loki hissed his voice had gone quiet, almost silent. But Tony heard him clearly, the imagery conjured made him pale slightly before straightening himself out. He inclined his head slightly, a short bow that showed the apology without having to voice it aloud.
"The one you have in your custody is Vali. The other wolf as you so eloquently put it." The admission was almost a physical blow. The young one there had ripped his own brother apart, then in grief, fled to the wilds of Asgard before throwing itself into the void in hopes of death and repentance. A tragedy by any sense of the word.
"Now, is he currently living or do I have to tear this world apart with my bare hands?"
There was no pain in the Void, just emptiness. But he was not in the void. He was not in Helheim with his beloved sister, feasting in the halls of the dead or reunited with dearest Narfi. Nor was he in the hell of metal and stale, sterile smells where blue and clean white hands brought the touch of death to you, but never let you rest in peace.
He could feel warmth under his fingers as well as softness on his face. He was in pain, but not as intense. It would not be long now then. The white coat men would come with their cold hands touching and taking, their eyes cold and calculating the amount they could force a scream from his throat. Then the man in the black suit, his face old and wrinkled and unfeeling. Then the pain in his head would come and he would feel memories slipping away until only green eyes remained. Then it would be the void.
People were talking around him, some in quick rushed sentences and others too far under their breath to be heard, but he could hear it all. He always had.
"He is stable Tony, really. Stop doing that."
"Can't believe reindeer games had a kid before I did."
"Are you sure he's not a liability? Fury needs to know."
"Damn Asgardians."
He flinched. Fury was going to be told. The man had been spoken of many times in hushed undertones of many doctors and soldiers as the worked on and around him. The questions, the praises, the admiration and the fear… all of this one man. He let out a gasp of air, trying to breath at the name of the man who had decided his fate for almost three years.
"If fury does 'this' we cut it open."
"If Fury does 'that' we take out its eyes."
On and on it had continued. The amount of time was only remembered because of a single voice, calling out as he thrashed beneath the blue hands blades.
"Its been three years, lets stop playing with it and finish the job."
Everything before and everything after faded into a blur surrounding that declaration. Three years in a time stream of centuries. It should have been nothing, but it had felt like an eternity, tied to a slab of metal barely able to fit him.
"He's waking up, someone call Helen!" The shouting began and a light pierced the darkness. Maybe they would find mercy and kill him, what more could they take from him.
Pepper had never in her life expected to play babysitter to a megalomaniac Asgardian. Tony had been called into the lab when the injured boy was waking up and she had been left alone with Loki, who to be honest, wasn't doing much in the way of threats or causing issues. He was sitting cross-legged against the far wall, either sleeping or meditating. Whoever this kid was that had been brought in to the tower was of great importance to both Loki and the other Avengers. And apparently SHIELD had something to do with it.
"Be quiet." Loki snapped from where he was sitting, his eyes still closed. Pepper jumped slightly, she hadn't said anything, which she replied heatedly to the 'sleeping' god. He opened his eyes and gave her a disdainful sneer.
"Your thoughts are too loud, I cannot think." He sneered. Pepper huffed in exasperation; she dealt with Tony enough on a bad day that the taunts didn't really register. She was tired of all the egotistical men in her life, at this point she might as well be single with the amount of time Tony had for their relationship.
"Do you know how to calm your thoughts mortal? So that they are not projected to every mind reader in the nine realms." He was just being snippy now.
"Why don't you educate me then, if you are so great at picking up my thoughts." She snapped back, sorely disappointed when his smug look only grew worse. He sighed as if she had put him out then stood and approached the glass before sitting again.
"First you need to be seated comfortably." And they began. Loki was a good teacher really. He could explain why certain thoughts could cause issues to other sorcerers and how best to shield the mind from both others and yourself. And that was how Vision found them hours later, meditating.
Thor watched as his nephew looked around him. He was afraid and he showed it. The boy barely spared a glance at him though, preferring to keep an eye on Helen Cho and her assistants, their hands to be more accurate. He hadn't fought his bindings that held him to the medical bed, which almost everyone found strange. He didn't make any noise at all, preferring to try and watch everyone at once.
"So which one is he?" Clint asked glibly, coming to stand beside him as the others worked around them.
"Well, it truly depends on how he addresses Loki. Mother or Father." Thor tried to explain, but he could tell that Clint was both disbelieving and curious as to why this was important.
"Should he call Loki mother, then he is either Jormungadr or Fenris, as he carried both to term himself. But if he calls Loki father, then he is Vali. Possibly, but doubtful as father assured me that he had been… taken care of." Clint made a slight "oh" noise and fell silent. He may not like Loki, but so far his children had been tortured and vilified all their lives.
"He's Vali. Loki recognized him under all the dirt and grime." Tony informed them, strolling confidently into the medical bay to take a look at the rescued prisoner. Thor only turned back and nodded, his eyes sorrowful as he gazed at the frightened boy.
"Father assured me that he had been killed as well, that there had been no mercy for a kin killer. But now I see that he was wrong. I must speak to my father." And with that Thor strolled from the room, his mind heavy.
The people did not touch him quite as much as the others had. Their hands weren't blue or white either. Just hands. He tried to correct his mind when it found understanding them hard, but he hadn't heard a person speak either English or the other language in so long. His mind and his chest felt empty, as if something was missing. But something had been missing for some time now, since before the pain, humiliation and betrayal.
"Hermione, something is wrong. I feel… different."
"Oh Harry. Do you need to go to the hospital wing?"
"Harry Potter. Come to die."
Someone was shining a light in his eyes. Then he remembered why he was tied to a bed again. There would be more experiments, until he had nothing left to teach them.
"Do you think we should bring Loki in here to show him that his son is safe?" Someone was talking and he tried to understand what he or she was saying. Loki was all he understood. But he knew the name well enough. He tried to say something, but his throat was too dry and too unused to being unused for speech. He gave up and lapsed into silence. Whatever they decided to do was what would be done. He had no say in it, just like before, when he had felt, at least a little bit, alive.
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DNStalker
