The other conscious quickly equips itself to my body and moves like I would, you know if I was in control of my body. At this point, Coulson is preoccupied with shooting about 5 or 6 other clones of Loki with his handgun, so he doesn't notice the real Loki or me approaching him with a command to kill him. I take the knife that I always keep in one of my boots (yes, I am that paranoid: I have one in the other boot and one hidden in my jacket)and without the slightest hesitation, tremor in my hand, plunge the knife into Coulson's chest. Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit! I think, trying to impede the other conscious in any way, to no avail.
I see Coulson's eyes spark in confusion as he slides to the ground, back supported against the wall. His blood stains my hand and sleeve and I feel guilt and pain wash though me.
"Very good!" exclaims Loki, admiring my preparedness I guess. Very good, really?!
"Thank you," my voice responds, less robotic and more fluent that before.
"If you will accompany me, my dear," he says, extending his hand. The other conscious reacts automatically, taking his hand as he leads my body toward the hole Thor and the Cage disappeared through. Let go of my hand, you creepy bastard! I scream, know full well he can't hear me, but it makes me feel kind of better. I hear the low hum of a jet below us and Loki jumps down, dragging me with him. We land softy in the jet and the top hatch closes above us.
"Where to, sir?" the pilot asks Loki, obviously under his influence, also.
"Stark Towers, no rush," he responds nonchalantly, taking a seat on the two-person bench. He pats the seat next to him, but I suppose a part of me still is on the surface, because my body responds the way I would,
"I prefer to stand." He arches his eyebrow at this, clearly surprised at my defiance.
"I'll let you in on a little secret around here: if I merely suggest something to you, you do it," he says in a harsh tone. My body responds automatically, plopping down in the seat next to him. I realize how close I am and, if I could, I would be up and flying like a bat out of hell.
"So, Gale, what can you do?" he asks. Well, if you know my name, I think you should know what I can do! "Barton told me they were planning to recruit you, but didn't know anything else beyond that." Thanks for explaining your creepiness, I think sarcastically.
"I can fly and fight," I respond, basically summing up everything I'm capable of in five words.
"Ah, you fly: that's perfect for the task I have in mind for you," he says, a mischievous grin crossing his face.
"What do you need me to do?" the head invader asks, prepared to do anything Loki commands.
"When we get to Stark Towers, Tony Stark and his… disciples are going to be there shortly after we get there. I want you to leave Stark to me, but the other three will be on a Quinjet following close behind him. I want you to do everything you can to destroy them," he orders, the other conscious understanding and planning to execute every word. Ah, I see: in basically sending me on a suicide mission, you're hoping I'll eliminate at least one of them in the process. Great plan, expect I don't think you know we know how to beat your little mind control. I think, hoping they'll know how I knocked Clint, literally, out of Loki's control.
"I understand," I reply simply. We ride the rest of the 5 minutes it takes to get to Stark's building in silence, thankfully.
"Alright, time to go," he sends me off. I crouch and launch myself through the now-open top hatch. You really don't know what you're getting yourself into. I try to reason with the other conscious, but it doesn't even acknowledge that I exist. Fine, your life, I submit, knowing full well it could be my life, too. I see Tony pass by me in his bright suit. The other conscious, following Loki's command, knows that the other three will pass by, and that's when I'm supposed to attack.
Sure enough, one of SHEILD's small Quinjet's flies by, and I can clearly see Clint and Natasha piloting it. I fly quickly towards it, tackling its left wing. It lurches my way and Clint and Natasha try to shake me off, having little success. I climb up toward the windshield and punch through the glass, slicing my knuckles, but the other conscious pays no heed. Natasha and Clint quickly put the jet down, scaring the hell out of some cab drivers and pedestrians.
The back exit opens in the jet and I hear the voices in the jet,
"Just be careful; and remember, aim for her head," I hear Clint say, "She's a hell of a fighter."
"Got it," replies Steve. He walks out, mask up and shield on his arm.
"Gale, listen to me, you've got to get a hold of yourself," Steve tries to reason with me. Good luck with that. Trust me, there is no 'reasoning', I think dejectedly.
"C'mon, you're strong: I know you can fight it," encourages Steve. I try once again, trying to push the alien conscious out of my head, but it still refuses to budge. I slip the knife out of my boot, identical to the one that stabbed Coulson. I see Steve's eyes widen when I pull it out, and it's not from the shock of seeing I had a weapon on me.
I approach him slowly, the other conscious sizing him up and looking for weak points. Steve is the first to engage, swinging his shield at me. I sidestep and swing the knife as I do so, hearing the God-awful screech it makes as it scratches the shield. My hand quickly retracts and I attempt to sweep his legs out from under him, but he hops backwards. I push myself quickly off the ground and rush at him, our next engagement becoming a flurry of fists and feet and blocking fists and feet. I get him once in the jaw and a kick to the back of the knee, each blow sending him a few feet in whichever way. He rammed my stomach with his shield and sent me back flying (uncontrolled) about ten feet, landing on the Quinjet. He also knocked the knife out of my hand very early. In a last ditch attempt, he hurled his shield at me, which I avoid with surprising ease. The other conscious smirks and says,
"You missed." I had also crushed my hand against his shield a few times, at which point I'm sure is broken, and the alien conscious takes this opportunity to rush at him. It doesn't get very far, as Steve's shield ricocheted off a nearby building and was aiming for the back of my head. Pain explodes in my head as the shield makes contact, but not enough to knock me out. I gain control for a second, at which point I scream,
"Keep going!" Then the other conscious takes over and looks up, and the last thing it sees is Steve's clenched fist. Thank God, I think as darkness engulfs me and the other conscious leaves my head and mine takes over its rightful body.
Had a lot of extra time to work on this 1.) it's Labor Day Weekend and 2.) I pulled an all-nighter with my friend and finished around 4 last night XD Enjoy!