Chapter 4

Meeting

Gemma

Gemma stepped off the Helicarrier at precisely 2 o'clock on the day she'd arranged to meet with her family.

"You sure you don't need anything?" Fury asked for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"No, I'm all good. It's not like I'm going to stay," she replied, smiling lightly as she stepped into the black SUV that was waiting for them.

Fury got into the passenger's seat. "Lemon Street Café," he instructed the driver.

Fury turned his head and gave Gemma a pained smile. "You can stay with them… if you want to," he said.

"I don't." Gemma stated flatly. She stuffed her hands inside her hoodie. Her fingers brushed the crumpled paper that was folded up in there. Loki's letter to her.

Gemma had kept the letter with her ever since Thor gave it to her. She didn't understand it but it comforted her all the same.

The car started off down the street, taking Gemma home. She lay back against the leather interior and closed her eyes, breathing deep.

'I just need to find out what Mark has to say about Loki. Then I'll get outta there,' she promised herself.

When the car stopped half an hour later Fury had to shake Gemma awake; she'd fallen asleep not five minutes into the drive.

"Gem, come on, kid. We're here," he said as she blinked the sleep from her eyes.

"Umph?" Gemma replied groggily.

She stepped out of the car, pulling her hood up over her head. The air was chilly and bit into her skin like ice.

"I'm just going to walk in with you. I want to talk to Mar- your father, before I let you go," Fury explained, walking with Gemma to the predetermined place of meeting; Lemon Street Café.

A stocky guy with graying hair waited just inside the doors, firing off a text message on his Blackberry. He looked up when Gemma and Fury walked in, bringing with them a blast of cold air. His hazel eyes were quizzical underneath thick wire-rimmed took in the sight of the pair; a young woman with shoulder-length wavy brown hair and hazel eyes; and an even taller man wearing a black floor-length trench coat and a patch over the scars on his right eye.

Mark's face broke into a nervous smile as he stepped forward to introduce himself.

"My name is Mark Shepherd," he said, gripping the young woman's hand. "You must be Gemma…" he voice trailed off as he stared at her. "You've got my eyes… and hell, you've grown!" he said at last, releasing his grip on her hand.

She drew a sharp breath. "Yeah," she said. "But it's Gem." She corrected, staring at him coldly.

Mark nodded and gulped. Gemma noticed a sheen of sweat on his forehead. She smirked. Looks like my old man is nervous.

"Fury," Fury cut in, shaking Mark's hand. "Nice to see you again, Mark," he said, politely.

"Same to you, same to you," Mark said, looking uncertain. Gemma figured he wasn't the least bit glad to see Fury again. (And he had reason; Fury was a formidable guy, before you got to know him.)

"I'll be back to get her in an hour and a half, yeah?" Fury asked, glancing down at his watch.

"Yeah, sounds good," Mark replied, holding the door open for the man.

Fury exchanged a look with Gemma before leaving. 'If you need me, you know what to do,' he was thinking. Gemma could hear the words as if he spoke them out-loud. It was part of her gift.

'Yeah okay, thanks. See ya soon,' she replied.

Mark stood, waiting for Gemma. He was unaware of the silent exchange that had just taken place between Gemma and Fury.

"So, should we find our seats?" Mark invited.

"Sure."

The pair found a small table next to the window where they had a nice view of the green trees that surrounded them. The café was warm and toasty inside. Gemma took off her hoodie and hung it on the back of her chair.

Mark cleared his throat, looking extremely anxious. Gemma couldn't blame him; she was pretty uncomfortable herself.

'Why did I even come? My family left me. They don't deserve to get me back!' she thought.

They only thing that kept Gemma seated across from the man who had once been her father, was curiosity. He knew something about Loki, something he didn't tell even Fury. Whatever it was, Gemma hoped it was worth the discomfort.

"Good afternoon, dears,"greeted a plump woman wearing an apron came to take their orders. "What will you be having?"

"I'll take a slice of raspberry cheesecake and some hot chocolate," Gemma ordered the first items she'd seen on the menu.

"Cup of French Roast, black," said Mark.

When the waitress left, Mark folded his arms across the surface of the table and watched his daughter.

"Gem…" he murmured, trying out the name.

Gemma cocked an eyebrow. "Mark."

He cleared his throat again and rubbed a broad hand down the back of his neck.

"Where is Carry? I thought she'd be here," Gemma inquired.

"Ah, yeah, you see," Mark began. "Your mother doesn't know that I am meeting with you,"

"She would disapprove, yeah?" Gemma asked. "Still scared of me?"

Mark looked extremely uncomfortable. "I suppose," he said, at last. "But she's coming. She is going to pick Jessie up from school and meet us here in about half an hour,"

Gemma felt her muscles tighten. "Jessie?" She repeated, coolly.

Mark's ears went bright red. "Your brother," he muttered, staring at his feet.

At that moment, the waitress returned with their orders.

"I hope this is satisfactory!" she beamed. "I must say, that cheesecake, mmm!"

"Thank you," Gemma muttered, shooting daggers at her father with her eyes.

The waitress bustled away, humming to herself.

"I have a brother? You mean, you replaced me? How soon after you sold me?" Gemma asked, fighting to keep her voice under control. "God dammit! Why couldn't you have told me before?"

I was wrong. I shouldn't be here. I ought to ask Fury to get me…she thought, fuming.

"Gem, listen to me. We loved you so much! It was unbearable, being separated from you!" Mark's eyes were watering in earnest. "Jessie isn't a replacement, I promise! Just give him a chance, you're going to love him!"

"Then why did you do it? You never called, not once. You might as well have been dead!" Gemma's voice broke into a shrill pitch. All around heads were turning to stare. "I shouldn't have come here, it was a mistake. I don't want to meet Jessie anyway!"

Mark clenched his mug of coffee so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He looked like he was trying very hard not to scream at Gemma.

"Is he normal?" she asked after the moment it took for her to cool down.

Mark closed his eyes and nodded slowly, not daring to watch her reaction.

Gemma drew in a sharp intake of breath and contemplated getting to her feet and storming out. Why did Jessie deserve a normal life when she was outcast as a freak?

"Gem, look, we're sorry!"

Mark pleaded for his daughter to understand but she was done with everything.

"I don't want your apologies. All I want is to get what I came for. Tell me about Loki," Gemma demanded, forcing Mark to her will with a simple mind trick.

"Yes, okay," he mumbled, the emotion was gone from his eyes, replaced by Gemma's mind control power. "The day before… before the battle in Manhattan, the one that was all over the news… the night before, we had a visitor," Mark said in a dead monotone.

Gemma felt her heart quicken. 'That would have been the night we saw the stars… It makes sense; I told Loki about my parents that night!'

"…It was him. The man with the golden horns. The guy who tried to kill us and rule us. He came to our home in the dead of the night and he forced us to kneel before him," Mark continued.

"Why?" Gemma asked, at a loss.

"He never told us why. But he talked about you, Gem. He was angry that we abandoned you and had another child."

"What else?" she demanded.

Mark gulped. "He was going to kill us… But then… Then he left. That is all."

Gemma stared Mark in the face, silently judging him. She caught a flicker of fear pass through his eyes. Furiously, she took a tighter hold on his mind, taking utter control.

"No, it's not. What are you hiding from me? What is it that you couldn't tell Fury?" Gemma spoke through bared teeth.

Mark closed his eyes when he spoke. "He told me that I had to try and repent. To make things right with you," he answered. "I didn't tell Fury because it's too damn personal, Gem! This isn't the kind of thing you go spreading!"

Gemma felt her throat tighten. "You're saying that the only reason I am here is because Loki told you to do this?" she said coolly.

Mark shook his head. "No, no, no! Not in the slightest! Honey, I just wanted to see you!" he insisted.

"Whatever." she said, letting go her hold on his mind.

The light came back into his eyes, and with it was raw terror. The guy was actually quivering in fright!

"To be totally honest, Gem, that wasn't fair," he complained. "You shouldn't have used it against me! Fury told me you'd improved."

"Did he? 'Cus when it comes to mega douches, like you, I get my way," she hissed.

"Fury, this isn't working out. Come get me… Please!" Gemma silently called to the Director.

"You sure?"

"Positive. This guy… He is…. He's a dick," she explained, glowering at Mark across the table.

"Fury is coming to get me," she deadpanned.

"Oh, Gem! Really, give me another chance! Please!" he begged, getting to his feet.

"I don't think so. You blew your first chance thirteen years ago."

Seven minutes and forty two seconds later, when the black SUV pulled up in front of Lemon Street Café, Gemma was waiting outside in the downpour of rain.

She wrenched open the door, scowling as she scooted into the warm interior, soaking the seats with the rainwater on her hoodie.

"Gem, what's wrong? What happened?" Fury asked, looking concerned.

"It doesn't matter. Can we just go?" she huffed, rubbing her eyes.

Fury nodded silently and the driver pulled into the street, leaving Mark Shepherd behind. Fury looked back at Gemma. He could tell she was on the verge of tears; her eyes were shiny and rimmed with red and her breathing was ragged and shallow. But he knew her well enough to understand that she wanted to be left alone, so he didn't say anything.

Gemma sat in silence, staring out the windows and watching fat water drops snake over the frosty glass. The closer she got to the Helicarrier, the more rotten she felt. She'd placed so much hope into this meeting; even though she'd been too scared to admit it to herself at the time. And her father never actually cared about her. He was scared into it by none other than Loki himself.

Gemma's fingers closed around the letter in her pocket, holding onto the last bit of Loki on earth. The brittle paper was all she needed to keep her head above the surface of the lake of bitter emotions that she was drowning in.

'Loki, everything is so fucked up,' she thought, vainly trying to contact him with her mind.

She knew it was no use; she'd tried many times since Loki returned to Asgard to talk to him. Apparently her powers didn't reach across the great voids of space and time. What she would have given to overcome that distance!

Gemma thought of the Norse God of Lies. Loki had manipulated her and used her. All the same, she still saw his brilliant green eyes whenever she closed her own. Back when he was on earth she hadn't known what to think of him; she'd hated and longed for him at the same time. Now that he was gone she missed him more than she would have ever believed.

'Loki, I wish you were still here. I can't stop thinking of you. Wherever you are, I hope you're thinking of me too…' she thought, laying her head against the glass with a sigh as she closed her eyes. 'Come back to me, you son of a bitch."