A/N: I just want to first thank everyone who's reviewed and favorited so far. I have not gotten this much feedback on a story in a long time, and after only six chapters?
It's the sex scenes isn't it? That's all you care about, don't deny it!
Anyway, thank you all so much. You are part of what makes this story so fun for me to write. I love you! *hugs*
After finishing up her call with Darcy, Jane had packed up her stuff and left the room. She made it just in time to meet up with Dr. Ahlberg in the lab. Her on–the-fly excuse that she'd woken up with a headache and cured with Tylenol and rest went over much better than expected.
"Just get to work, Ms. Foster," Dr. Ahlberg had said before someone else pulled her away.
Jane followed the formula as best she could. Another few loops and she'd have it down pat. It doesn't even bother her to think like that anymore. There's no sense in denying that she's going to be stuck like this for a while. Trying to fix it is bound to take ages for an ordinary person like her. Much as she wishes there was at least one more person who could help her out, there is no point in dwelling. How could she even wish something like this on another person anyway?
She mostly stuck to herself during lunchtime, close enough to Hilda and Jacobine that she could listen in on their conversation and smile and laugh in all the appropriate places so they don't suspect anything is wrong.
"I'd never had a sip of alcohol before that night, it was probably the craziest thing I ever did, but I lost the bet and I'm not one to go back on my word."
"Hmmm… and all you had were a couple of beers. Pfft- that is not wild, my friend."
"Well, we can't all be as daring as you."
"Yes, and you never will be, much as I hate to break it to you."
Adorable.
4:45 came with a literal crash of Whathisname, the out of breath intern.
"You- you three- you have to come- to the TV room- you have to see this!"
Jane couldn't even be bothered to run this time.
It almost cost her her usual seat, but luckily the person who'd taken it decided to go comfort a friend of his who was near tears. He never came back again.
She watched the fight as discerningly as possible. She caught the same old glimpses of Ironman and Captain America and Thor (who sent something unpleasant dropping in her stomach). Weird monsters here, the giant green guy here and the woman on the flier there. Business as usual. Loki was the same as ever, as far as she could tell. She'd been momentarily distracted when the empty cup of water she'd taken upon entering slipped from her fingers. When she looked back up, Loki's back was to her. She didn't think much of it then. She's just going to have to be more careful tomorrow.
She's going to be a lot more serious from here on in. There's no need to laze around anymore. She's had two and a half weeks almost to come to terms with everything. She's found a reliable method to leave if she starts to feel too suffocated (reliable enough anyway), and for now, that's all she needs. She might even meet her new friend again someday.
All she can do now is plunge in headlong. Truthfully, she shouldn't have needed so much time to get this far, but she doesn't like thinking about that. It makes her feel like a slacker. She's never slacked off on anything, not since high school. This is much bigger than a single overdue term paper, but the point still stands.
Jane slinks away from the party as it's starting up. She almost isn't fast enough this time. She hears Hilda call out her name when she's at the door. Jane ignores her and runs out. Hilda shouts after her once, and then that's it. Nobody follows her back to her room. She spends an hour writing down every second of the battle she can remember, down to the last detail. It isn't much, she knows. News coverage is incredibly limited and it's not even in English. She should take some time to sit down and learn the language one of these days; whatever that means anymore. She gets to Thor's appearance, notes its brevity, and then tries to move on before she has a chance to linger. Unwittingly, she sees his stupidly charming grin as he kisses her hand and scrunches her eyes tight. She tries to drown it out with something else, anything else.
Dark hair and blue eyes and long fingers running along her body as he kisses her neck and…
No. No. Not that.
Jane gulps down what remains of her bottled water and then throws it at the garbage can next to the door. It misses by several inches.
She pulls stray bits of hair out of her face. There's nothing around to tie it back with and she doesn't feel like getting up, so she just pushes it all over her shoulders and leaves it at that. She picks up the pen and writes. She starts at a point that doesn't involve Thor in any way and spends the next few minutes recalling Ironman and the redheaded woman and the pandemonium that ensued once the power went out. She ends it at the video coming back to show the exhausted heroes, Thor included. She glosses over him and focuses on the rest. She only knows Tony Stark because he's a household name the likes of Bill Gates or Santa Claus. The green man rings a few bells too, as does Captain America, whom she's starting to remember from an old movie poster in her parents room. That was back when her father was around, so she couldn't have been more than a toddler. She's going to have to learn as much about all of them as she can. She still has no idea if their battle and her repeating days are related, but seems far too precise to just be a coincidence.
The biggest question after 'Why is this happening?' is 'Why is this happening to me?' It is clear that none of the Avengers are aware of the repeating day, even though this repeating day spans at least the distance between Norway and America. That their battle with Loki is today must mean something. But then, why not one or all of them? Why am I the only one aware? Other than three days with Thor, I have no connection to any of them and no way to contact them. In my limited amount of time, there is little to no chance of me making it back stateside, and even if I could, how would I get to them? What could they even do?
For the time being, I must assume that these events are unrelated. The fact that the battle has repeated thus far without changes indicates that no one on either side is aware. Still, I can't shake the feeling that there is a connection.
She stops there and puts down the pen. She remembers that she hasn't been around to watch at least half the battles so far, but that shouldn't matter. Only in that if she had been watching it all this time, maybe she'd have memorized it by now and wouldn't have to anymore. She's really not much looking forward to having to sit through it time and time again, even though she knows she has to. This is her research now. No more star gazing or Foster Theories until this is solved. No more jumping the ferry or little Oceanside villages. No more bars and bar guys and hands and tongue and body and-
"No, no, no!"
Jane growls and slaps both heads over her head. She falls down in bed, just missing the wall by a hair and landing on the soft pillows. She tries not to, but she can't stop it now. She's feeling him all around her again, her body tingles with the memory. Whether she closes her eyes or keeps them open, he is always there, gazing at her with lust and desire the likes of which she's never seen before in a man.
"Come on," Jane moans, running her hands slowly down her face. "It was supposed to get rid of the stress, not make it worse."
She rolls over, her legs getting tangled in the sheets. She hardly moves for the rest of the night until she falls asleep. Even that's way too difficult. She feels warm all over, phantom sensations of fingers and hot breath at the nape of her neck permeate for hours.
Day 18
'Come on Eileen, oh I swear
At this moment, you mean-'
Jane grabs the clock radio- she needs not change positions to do it- and lobs it across the room. The cord is jerked out of the wall on one end, and partially out of the radio. It smashes against the wall, popping the screen off, but leaving it otherwise undamaged, and silent.
There's the knocking on the door now.
"Time to get up, Ms. Foster, there's work to be done. Do not make us wait for you."
Dr. Ahlberg walks off, and Jane counts down the seconds until Jacobine's arrival, announced, as always, by an enthusiastic knock.
"Come on, Jane, get moving! If you don't hurry, you'll miss breakfast. And I swear, Hilda better not have taken all the coffee again, or I'm going to take that precious headband of hers and make her eat it!"
The clock radio issues a loud whine that sounds like Kevin Rowland's voice going through a garbage disposal. It's obviously more broken than it looks and has a backup battery. Jane notes that in the back of her mind.
"What was that?" Jacobine asks. She tries the doorknob, which is jammed, and then calls out again. "You alright in there, Jane?"
"Yes, Jacobine," Jane answers as she gets out of bed. "My radio needs new batteries. I'll fix it tonight."
"If you say so."
Jane picks a periwinkle shirt today.
Loki Laufeyson
Loki has just finished counting the number of bricks on the wall. There are five hundred and sixty three within his line of sight. That's two minutes successfully wasted.
Not for the first time, he wishes he had a clock of some kind. He knows the time well enough from the position of the sun, but it's not specific. At least six hours have gone by since Thor dropped him in here. He's probably at some banquet welcoming him home by now. It must be a spectacular affair, even bigger than the one they held to celebrate his fall.
Rage simmers in Loki's stomach, until he relaxes against the bars and lets it go. He abandoned this realm when he fell. He had expected to die, but he had lived, and had far greater prospects elsewhere.
Had, indeed.
Loki sighs, long and loud. He really has to stop doing this to himself. One way or another, he is going to find a way out. He has to; there is not a chance in all the nine realms that this is happening for no reason. Something is causing it, or perhaps someone.
The question is how, and why.
What force or being could he have wronged so greatly that they would put him through such torment as this?
Loki laughs sardonically. He's going to be here for a while.
He hears something then, just outside his window. Voices build in volume, a laugh bursting forth. Normally, he would ignore it, but tonight it catches him by surprise. It really does. Not once in any of the last sixteen repetitions has anyone come close enough to the dungeons that he can hear them.
Loki goes to the window. He sees the grand gardens of Asgard just a small ways off, where noblemen and women in courtly attire admire the freshly grown flowers on the eve of their blooming. The Warriors Three are among them. Volstagg is happy and content with his usual supply of drumsticks. Meanwhile, Fandral woos a blushing young maiden who twirls a braid around her finger. Sif is a small ways off. She's in full battle regalia, her face pristine and her hair voluminous, and black as night. For a moment, it has an unnatural,golden shine to it, or is he just seeing things? She's leaning against a tree and watching Thor as he walks along, arm and arm with-
"Jane Foster?" Loki whispers.
She's close that he can see every inch of her face, glowing in a way that should not be possible for a mortal woman. She's dressed in noble finery, from the golden jewelry to the deep blue robes that adorn her shoulders. Thor leans to whisper something in her ear. She laughs and it booms. It's so loud, it's like she's standing right behind him.
Then there's a hand on his shoulder.
There's breath in his ear.
"Having fun?"
He whirls around.
Day 18
Loki's eyes snap open. He does and doesn't know his surrounding at first. He's definitely back where he started, underground on Midgard on the morning of his invasion, but wasn't he just in his cell in the middle of the night?
It comes back to him slowly that he'd fallen asleep almost immediately after Thor, who had carried him this time around because his legs were so badly broken, threw him headfirst onto the stone floor of his cell. He didn't wake up again.
"Sir?
Loki turns an eye on that soldier. He's waiting for an answer to the announcement Loki missed this time while he was lost in thought. He gets up and walks away.
"Not today," he says lazily. "Put it away, we'll do it another day."
"Yes, sir."
That's the end of that.
Jane Foster
Her notebook remains at her side all through breakfast and the morning meeting. It stays blank for now, but by tonight, the first ten or so pages will be chaos. It had come to her this morning, after she fended off Jacobine so she could get dressed slowly and in peace. Recording the events of the battle as it was going on seemed like the best thing to do at this juncture. It would doubtless come off strange to the people around her, assuming her note-taking could hold their attention better than the destruction of an entire city. Well, too bad for them. This whole desensitization thing was really taking hold of her fast.
As always, she has nothing to say about anything, be it small talk with Hilda and Jacobine or prep work with Dr. Ahlberg. Nobody bats an eyelash at her, she's basically a non-entity. Thank goodness for that.
It's given her a lot of time to think, and her observatory time is spent sitting on the bench in the corner looking anywhere but up. She flips the blank pages of her notebook. Yesterday, she tore the top corner off the second sheet by mistake. Now it's fully intact. Seeing it sends a rush through Jane's body. Its undeniable proof that this is real and not just some crazy delusion born of being locked up with no information for too long. She fingers the page and almost rips it anew. She snaps the notebook shut, it stays off to the side, untouched until it's time for her to go. Only the first page has been marked, with a hasty, less detailed account of her day so that she can watch the clock when the time of the battle draws near. At 4:45 pm, the intern will burst in and at 6:20 pm, the world will be free to live another day. Every second of that hour and thirty five minutes in between needed to be ingrained into her skull. It's the only lead she's got, and it requires her full, undivided attention. There can be no wandering thoughts of any meaningless one night stands she may have had with random strangers in the past few 'days.' No matter how incredibly hot and amazing it may have been.
The clock currently reads ten minutes to eleven, which means she'll have to leave soon. Quiet time alone is not the reprieve it used to be, and Jane is quite suddenly looking forward to getting the same old tired dialogue. It gives her something to think about. Jane would take any sort of distraction right now, and not just from the repeating day. Whenever she's not thinking of that, her normally sensible and scientific mind is dominated by thoughts that go straight between her legs and make the rest of her feel like it's on fire. It's all nothing but that face and those eyes and hands and tongue and body again and again and-
"Five more hours until it's time, and I need to make sure to grab a fresh pen from the lab and sit closer to the door so I can leave faster when the intern shows up. Also, it might be good to move when the power goes out just before it comes back so that I have an easy exit when the party starts and nobody, Hilda or otherwise can drag me back in. The best thing I can do in the meantime is just go about the day as normal and not speak much unless spoken to. I already know all the experiments I'm assigned to front and back so that shouldn't be a problem…"
Jane goes on like this until the security guard taps on the door and tells her in heavily accented English that her time is up and she needs to clear out. She's mostly come down at this point, though she suspects her cheeks might still be a little flushed or she's got sweat on her brow, because the security guard gives her an unusually long look as she's leaving. Her troubles are quelled for the moment, and she's proceeding straight ahead with her head held high and an impenetrable shield around her that keeps out the unessential.
Five more hours until it all starts again.
Loki Laufeyson
Afternoon sees Loki back in Central Park. He's just been walking along, first invisible, then not. Somewhere around noon, his stomach lets out a whine, reminding him that he hasn't eaten anything since the day before the repetition began. It's not the first time he's gone so long without sustenance. He suspects that, as with physical injuries, it doesn't matter what he ingests, his body will return to its previous state as each new repeat begins. He could spend what amounted to years in this endless circle and never let a single morsel pass his lips.
He goes in search of food anyway. There are several fine looking establishments nearby, but he's questioned the quality of Midgardian food since it became clear that, at least in this city, their diets consisted mainly of twisted dough covered in salt. Why else would there be ten different peddlers offering them everywhere he looked? The only thing he sees almost as often are eateries that boast enormous yellow signs shaped like an M. He doesn't know what it stands for, but something about it makes his chest feel vaguely like its burning. Any place that elicits that can't be worth it at all.
He eventually gives up and takes to wandering the park again. It's irritating a place as ever, especially when he makes the mistake of passing a certain bench beneath a tall green lamp at the exact wrong time.
"Daddy! Daddy! Where are you?"
The pigtailed little girl veers around the legs of uncaring adults, screaming her weak little heart out. Loki eyes the bench he'd sat on the first time, this time completely empty; no one at all for her to bother. What would the child do now?
"Daddy!"
She barrels straight at him, almost running into his legs until Loki side-steps her. She skids to a halt and turns.
"Mister, wait! Have you seen my Daddy?"
Loki rolls his eyes and keeps walking. The girl calls after him but doesn't follow, and soon her cries fade away.
He exits the park and cloaks himself again, so that it doesn't create a scene when he transports himself elsewhere. After jumping from place to place, Loki finally settles on a beach he knows to be somewhere outside the city of Manhattan. It's still close, but far enough that he no longer feels the need to kill something.
There are only five or six people on the sand and no one in the water. Loki is wearing more than all of them combined. He'd stuck out like a sore thumb if he was visible. Several feet away is a couple locked in a passionate embrace, so focused on each other that he could probably appear to them in full regalia and they wouldn't notice. Loki scoffs and bypasses them; he's not too fond of how they remind him of events just two repeats ago.
The truth is, he's been thinking of Jane Foster off and on since he woke up this morning. Her presence in that dream really threw him for a loop. The dream itself was of no concern to him. He rarely had them, but when he did, they were often as vivid and detailed as this one had been. It was simply how his mind worked, and nothing and no one could possibly know that more than himself.
Having fun? Oh, what amusing little quips his subconscious mind came up with. Why yes, thank you, this repetition has by far been the time of his life!
So what, then, of Jane Foster? His first thought is that their night together triggered it, but that's just absurd. He has spent nights with countless women in his long lifetime, enough that it made Stark's little line of conquests look positively meager. True, Jane Foster was more than just a common wench; she was the woman who had helped ruin everything for him by making Thor a 'better' man. He cared more for the dirt under his shoes than her. Under any other circumstances, she would have been dead on the floor before she could even open her mouth to ask his name. What in Vahalla's name had she been doing in his dreams?
Nothing about their meeting had made sense anyway. How had she known who he was, and so quickly? Thor may have told her about him, but to know him by face when they'd never before been face to face? There is no way she could've gotten that accurate a description.
Question after question hounds him from there. Why had she been so eager to lay with him? Why hadn't she been even the least bit afraid when she outright told him she knew who he was? What on earth had gone on between her and Thor to make the year of absence so unbearable that she would stoop to something as petty as this? Why, when she was supposed to be one of Midgard's most brilliant minds, would she act in such a reckless way, knowing all that he could have done to her?
Most importantly, why did Loki care so must about all this that he would see her in his dreams?
He looks around one more time. The amorous couple from before appear to have moved to a changing tent, which rocks suggestively side to side. Without really thinking about it, Loki vanishes, leaving not even footprints in his wake.
He ends up in that same little Norwegian park. He glances around with disinterest and leaves. The next place he finds himself at is in front of Jane Foster's pub. She won't be there yet, but if he remembers the time of their meeting correctly, she'll be along shortly. He walks inside, still invisible, moving past chattering, inebriated sailors who couldn't possibly see a foot in front of their faces. Loki stops at the end of the bar, at the seat Jane Foster had occupied and would soon again. How fun it would be to wait until she was right there and then let her see him. Poor thing would probably have a heart attack. It barely brings a smile to his face, but at least it keeps him distracted from wondering what he's even doing here. If only he had something better to do.
Loki sits at the second to last seat and waits.
Jane Foster
The time is now 4:40 pm. Jane has abandoned her usual spot in the back for a table closer to the door. One step and she'll be out; she might as well not even wait for the intern today. The trade-off for her planning is that now she's smack in the middle of Hilda and Jacobine. She hates to say they're started to really grate on her nerves. It's not their fault that they've had this asinine little discussion seventeen times in a row. They don't know any better.
"I'd never had a sip of alcohol before that night, it was probably the craziest thing I ever did, but I lost the bet and I'm not one to go back on my word."
"Hmmm… and all you had were a couple of beers. Pfft- that is not wild, my friend."
"Well, we can't all be as daring as you," Jane supplies under her breath.
"You say something, Jane?"
She jumps a little, cursing herself.
"Ah- no," she says quickly. "Just talking to myself."
This has the opposite effect she was hoping for, and in retrospect, she probably should have thought of something better. Jacobine gives her a searching stare while Hilda shakes her head disapprovingly.
"Talking to yourself is a sign of insanity Jane," she says, wrapping an unwanted arm around her. "I knew we shouldn't have left you out."
"Oh, but I'm fine, I-"
"No buts," Hilda says. She waves her index finger in Jane's face. "Now then, how about you tell us a crazy story of your own, Jane?"
Jane would love to dissuade her, whatever it took, but now Jacobine is leaning closer, looking like a little kid at a puppet show. They are on the edge of their seats, and knowing they're only doing it for her benefit changes nothing.
"Well?" Jacobine says.
"Weeeell?" Hilda prompts in her ear.
Jane sneaks a glance at the digital clock on the wall. It's 4:42.
Screw it.
"I've got a really good story," she says in monotone. "First of all, that thing you guys were talking about earlier? About Jacobine? You've actually had that conversation seventeen times. The truth is, we're all stuck in a big time loop where I'm reliving the same day over and over again and no one else know about it, including you two. In fact, I've snuck off the island several times on the supply ferry and one time, I even slept with some guy I met at a bar, just for the hell of it."
She finishes as flatly as she started, then leans back and listens to the ticking of Jacobine's wristwatch. The two of them are dumbstruck. Ever so slowly, their eyes turn to each other… and then they laugh. They laugh far too loud when in such close proximity with Jane, and now her ears are ringing.
"Oh- Oh that is a good one, Jane," Hilda says.
"I'll say," Jacobine is a little less composed, but still understandable. "Did you just come up with that?"
Jane growls under her breath. "No, I've had plenty of time."
They laugh again and Hilda gives her a one armed hug. Jane thinks she might also get a sloppy kiss on the cheek, and she's glad when it doesn't happen and Hilda pulls away. Getting all that lipstick off would have been a pain. Hilda and Jacobine never quite relax again, getting as far as light snickers that linger even as Hilda is pausing to take a well-needed gulp of bottled water and then juts out her chin.
"It's funny you should mention the ferry. I've been thinking about jumping that thing on the really hectic days since I got here. I guess great minds really do think alike, huh?"
"More like reckless," Jacobine says. Her grin hinders any possible attempt at chastising anyone. "That's an awful idea to promote."
Hilda rolls her eyes. "It's all in good fun, Jacobine, just a joke. Right, Jane?"
"Wrong."
That doesn't process right away. Hilda is sending a smug look Jacobine's way when it hits, and then Jane is the center of attention again. Though her inner voice is screaming at her how incredibly stupid this is, not to mention dangerous, Jane can't bring herself to care. All of a sudden, she's completely numb to everything, an outsider looking in. It doesn't matter what she says to them, she could tell them her whole life's story if she wanted to. Then, she could tell it to them all over again tomorrow and no one would know the difference. It's like being on a whole other plane of existence, all by herself.
"Wrong," she says again, getting up. She feels how wide her eyes are. From the way Jacobine raises her arms to her chest, almost defensively, she must look pretty scary right now. Something about that invigorates her. "Everything I just said is true. You'll see what I mean about thirty seconds from now. An intern is going to rush in here and tell us to follow him to the TV room, where we're going to watch news coverage of an alien attack on New York City led by the Norse God, Loki."
Dead silence follows; it's so thick that it even penetrates Jane's newfound unflappability, if only just. She is not unable to maintain eye contact, even if her friends are most unwilling to look at her for longer than a couple of seconds. They seem to be conversing with their eyes, trying to quietly figure out if Jane's crazy enough to attack them if they try to run. At least, that's what she assumes.
"Uh… Jane, are you sure you're feeling alright?" Hilda finally asks.
In response, Jane looks down at her wrist, which is devoid of a watch, but she knows the time anyway.
"Ten more seconds," she says.
"Okay Jane, knock it off," Jacobine says. "You're starting to scare me."
Jane snorts openly. 'Jacobine, you only think you're scared right now. Just you wait.'
Five more seconds. Jane's body seizes up with anticipation. How will Hilda and Jacobine take knowing that she's been telling the truth all along? She's about to find out, and there's something exciting to it. The intern will burst through the door and set everything into motion again in three… two… one…
Jane looks at the door.
The air goes quiet.
There is no one there.
Jane blinks once or twice, biting her lip awkwardly. She already knows that what she's seeing is for real, but she's as of yet not too worried. Something shifts behind her and Jane waves dismissively behind her. Jacobine gasps softly. Jane pays it no mind.
"It's not really on the dot," she explains. "Just wait a couple of seconds, he'll be here."
"Who will be here, Jane?" Hilda sounds annoyingly wary.
"The intern. I already told you two this," Jane's having a hard time keeping her voice down. This waiting and counting down is starting to get to her. It gets any worse and she may have to take tomorrow off. "Just give it another couple of seconds."
Jane stands before the door looking out. The half window shows an empty hallway, save for a few scientists walking in different directions and discussing trivialities amongst themselves. She thinks about opening the door a crack so she can hear him running before he appears which will be any second now.
Another couple of doctors walk by. Jane thinks she sees Dr. Ahlberg among them. Any second now…
"Jane."
Any second now…
"Jane."
Any second…
"Jane!"
Any-
"JANE!"
Hilda snatches her up. Jane is unprepared and almost smacks her friend across the face. She's about to give Hilda a piece of her mind when the taller woman points at the clock. Jane looks at it and feels like she's been dowsed in ice water.
It's 4:46.
Then the clock advances one more minute, as if to taunt her.
4:47 now.
Its 4:47, and nothing has happened.
"What?" Jane says. She shakes her head slowly and walks to it, zombie-like. "That can't be right. That clock must be fast. It's-"
She grabs her phone out of her pocket and flips it open. 4:47.
There is a simple red wristwatch on Jacobine's arm. Jane ignores her protests pulls it before her eyes. 4:47
Jacobine jerks her arm away and holds it close to herself.
"Okay, really funny joke, Jane, but I think it's time we let it go now," Hilda says, but it falls on deaf ears.
There is a terrible roaring in Jane's eardrums that makes her feel like her head is about to explode. She grips it tight, massages her temples to try and relax herself. When it's dulled enough, she whirls around. Hilda's been calling her name from somewhere far off. She shuts right up and shrinks back a little when Jane rounds on her.
"What day is it?" Jane demands.
Hilda looks to Jacobine for help, but she's just as lost.
"Uh… it's May 4th. Jane, do you need a doctor or something? Because we do have those here and… Jane? Jane, wait!"
She's halfway to the door by now. She's dazed but not incoherent and knows where she is going. Nothing can stop her now. There are images passing by her eyes that are far more to her now than anything in the real world, which is hardly even real to her anymore. The last thing she sees before she leaves is the clock that reads 4:48.
She takes the familiar path to the TV room. Staff members and custodians aplenty pause in their day to day lives to watch her go, unperturbed and in no way fearful for the future of the world. Some of them point at her and whisper as she passes. One person spins his finger around his head and then laughs with his friend.
Jane bursts into the room, which is completely empty barring the person who had been about to leave when she ran in. They stop to give her an odd look before departing, and now she's alone. She stands on her spot instead of sits. The remote is trapped in her pure white, cold fingers as she flips through channel after channel, looking for that ever important and world changing broadcast.
General news.
General news.
Soap opera.
Infomercial.
TV Drama.
Sports.
Sports.
General news.
Cartoons.
Nothing.
There are only ten channels to speak of. All of them show regular programming for a regular Friday afternoon. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Business as usual.
Jane's arm falls limp at her side. She's staring at the final channel, which is nothing but static and white noise that sounds like a drill going through her brain.
The time on the clock is 4:51.
"No way. No way…"
Loki Laufeyson
He's getting impatient.
The crowds have barely thinned in the hours he's been waiting. Whenever someone leaves, a whole group arrives to take his place. They are loud and boisterous and fueling Loki's already very low opinion of Midgardians. Someone in the corner pours a mug of foul smelling whiskey over his friends head. The man laughs like an idiot and falls over to the floor. The bartender barely acknowledges them. How many times has he seen this before, Loki wonders.
There is an old analog clock high on the wall above. It's made of chipped, splintered wood and reads 4:46 in the afternoon. It would be late morning in New York, right in the middle of his invasion. They would be converging within the hour to futilely search for him. Loki leans forward on the rickety bar stool, which stays up only because he's being careful. This place is absolutely horrendous. Once he's done with this, he's never coming back here again, dreams be damned. Now, if only Jane Foster would be kind enough to make her appearance so he can get this over with. He's still not sure what he's going to do when she gets here. He'll figure it out when the time comes.
He looks at the clock again, the pads of his fingers lightly drumming the splintered wood bar. It's getting closer to five now and she's still not here. It's come to him that he never checked the time during their last encounter. It was definitely during the afternoon while the sun was starting to set. He remembers the way it stretched out and reached her light brown hair, making all the little untamed bits shine and stick out all the more. She had been quite unkempt, in fact. There was an odd look in her eyes like she was secretly exhausted. He doubted she really was, though. She couldn't possibly have done all the things she'd done with him if she was even the least bit tired.
Loki momentarily gets lost in memory, stopping himself before his body can give away what he's thinking. The bartender, the one Loki very distinctly recalls being the one Jane had been venting to, is now greeting another, much younger man dressed in a similar uniform. They speak in rapid Norwegian that Loki can't quite make out. His grasp on the language isn't bad, it's good enough that he can catch a few key phrases like 'take over' and 'see you tomorrow.' Then the bartender grabs his coat and hat and heads out the door. As the new bartender gets ready to take his first order of the night, Loki jumps off of his seat. He follows the bartender out the door, misjudging his own strength and just about taking it off its hinges. He removes the invisibility.
"You there!"
His commanding shout gets the bartender's attention, even though there are about ten other people walking around that he could be talking to.
"Need something?" the man asks in his native language.
Loki points at the bar. "You work there, don't you?"
The bartender raises an eyebrow. "Yes, but my shift is over. You want a drink, go talk to Peter inside."
He turns and leaves without another word. Loki has no need to stop him again. Walking backwards, he finds himself on a bench just over the boardwalk. When no one is looking, he shields himself again and sends out four or five doubles all over the town. Their search for Jane Foster starts to take too long, and his newfound anxiety can't take it. He sends out a few more, and then even more after that. The strain of the magic it takes to hold them all makes him woozy, but he refuses to call them back until every inch of every square mile of this and the surrounding villages have been thoroughly searched. This takes over an hour, and the conclusion is as simple as it is extraordinary.
Jane Foster is nowhere to be found.
And that is just not possible.
Loki gets up and begins to pace around the bench, going in an endless circle. If he allowed himself to leave footprints, they'd leave permanent indentations. He has no trouble keeping his mind clear, but these are not the most welcome thoughts he could have. Jane Foster is not around, but she was very clearly here two repeats ago. She had been sitting at the bar, talking at length to the very bartender who had just left without a word to anyone. He could have been late and just missed her, but that didn't explain how she could get so many miles away that none of his doubles could find her. There was no chance of him having mistaken someone else for her, she knew far too much. It was definitely her and she had definitely been here and she was definitely not here now.
Loki walks a little faster, unaware that he's lost his concentration on the spell that keeps him unseen, and now everyone is staring at the bizarre man in black who looks like he's contemplating attacking a bench.
'How could it be possible that she's not here?' Loki thinks. 'I've lived this unchanging day so many times, and it's true I only went to Jane Foster once before butshe would have to be as set in her ways as everyone else. Every day she should have come here, gone home with another man perhaps, so how is it that today, she's not even in this town? How could such an anomaly occur without my intervention?'
That's where Loki stops, because the thought that's just entered his head has the power of a brick wall.
What if this isn't an anomaly?
What if what he's seen today is, in fact, the way things are supposed to go?
What if Jane Foster being here on that day was the true anomaly?
So far, the only changes to the timeline Loki has seen are the ones he created himself, because he knows everything that was going to happen. This was the first change he had in no way influenced. This was all Jane Foster's doing.
And that means...
A sweet little old lady walking home from the store with some groceries and a new toy for her Grandson screams and faints as the tall and harrowed young man she was about to greet as she passed disappears in an explosion of light and color.
It just doesn't make any sense. The invasion and attack on New York has happened every day for seventeen days without fail. I have already established that I am the only one with any awareness, and any changes that have been made have been the result of my own actions. Even on my most active days, there is no chance I could have done anything that would stop the attack. I have considered that someone not directly associated with me could also be aware, but for something like this to happen, they would also have to directly relate to the attack on either side. If it is one of the Avengers or someone associated with them, then that might explain what happened today. They spent enough days getting a feel for how Loki plans his attack and then stopped it before it could begin. That only begs the question of why. It may be that stopping the attack was the key all along, but then what does my involvement signiffy? Unless I'm really not supposed to be involved. Maybe whatever caused this repeating day had aftereffects that brought random people into its scope by chance. That could mean I'm not the only one aware, and there could be any number of people across the globe going through the same thing I am. It's an oddly comforting thought, but more I think about it, the more implausible it becomes.
That just leaves all the same questions unanwered. Why is it that today something so different suddenly happens? It can only mean that at lst one other person knows what is going on like I do, someone who has enough influence over the attack to stop it completely.
Jane stops there. Her handwriting has become far too sloppy, her words taking up three lines at a time. There are also some really embarrassing spelling and grammar errors. Jane pulls up a chair to sit down somewhere. She winds up in front of her small vanity, facing the mirror. She looks awful.
"There has got to be a logical explanation for this," she says, knowing very well that there isn't. "There has to be something I've missed that explains everything. It can't be that someone else is involved that I don't even know. My God, I let a Norse God sleep in my place for three days and now this? I have nothing to do with any of this. Why…?"
She puts her hands in her hair, running fingers through tangled locks. She catches onto a couple of knots, gently pulling until her scalp starts to hurt. She can't stop the new theories that come to her, each more absurd than the last. The curse of being a scientist: never a quiet moment.
She sits there in that same, despondent way until something else comes to her, something terrible.
The only way for a battle to happen is for one side to attack, and the other side to retaliate. That means that the only way to end a battle without any bloodshed is for that first side to not attack. For Loki not to attack…
And how many other days had she sat out watching it anyway? How many other days went exactly like this? There had been the fifth cycle, followed by the sixth, all the way up until the tenth. Any one of those days, could have ended uneventfully. Then there had been the days she spent plotting her escapes, and the day at the bar when she'd spent the night with that man.
That tall, dark haired man with the strange and unsettling eyes who'd been only too happy to play along with her game.
Jane's heart stops.
'Hello Sir, you wouldn't happen to be Thor's brother, Loki, would you?
-dark hair, blue eyes, so tall-
"Oh…"
'And what if I am?'
-hands tongue body-
'So, you are?'
-hands tongue body Loki Loki Loki Loki-
"Oh My God."
She looks up and there he is, his reflection in the mirror, staring down at her half crazed.
Unforgiving hands wrap around her and wrench her up. There is growling like an angry animal in her ears as she's thrown against the wall and held several inches off the ground so they're level. He's even scarier up close. He leans in, so that he has to press his forehead against her so their lips don't touch.
"Do you know?"
Jane's mouth has fallen open, but she's still reeling off the pain in her head and arms. Her heart has gotten working again far too well. It's close to bursting out of her chest. When she takes too long, Loki grits his teeth and shoves her back again. She just barely avoids hitting her head and getting a nasty bump.
"Come on," he snarls. "Talk. Answer me, damn you."
He shakes her a few times, as if that's going to make it easier for her to formulate a response. She's as tongue-tied as ever, and it doesn't help that those eyes of his are are turning from icy blue to an even more unnatural blood red. In their place, his skin starts to take on a much darker shade, and if she's not mistaken, the temperature has dropped significantly. Incoherent fear runs through her body, but it can't silence her.
"You didn't attack today."
Loki stares at her a moment longer and then let's go. Jane falls ungracefully on her ass, but it's better than the alternative. Loki's appearance mercifully goes back to normal as he walks away from her. His posture is strong and dignified, but the harrowed way he rubs at his arm ruins it, and lessens her fears a bit.
"Alright," he says. "So you know."
What he does next would have put Jane more at ease if it had been absolutely anyone else ever. Instead, Loki's subsequent laughter makes her wish there was some kind of emergency exit she could sneak out of. He's blocking the only door.
"You know," he repeats and turns around. He's grinning and it looks wrong. "You know."
He points at Jane, and a stab of indignation that cares little about the danger at hand goes through her.
"Do you have a problem with me?" she asks, but it doesn't sound like her voice anymore.
Loki's grin fades. Jane immediately regrets what she just said, and since she can't exactly apologize, she just steps a little further away from him, up against the wall.
"I'm just surprised," Loki says, examining her from across the room. "That out of all those involved with myself or my brother, who might have had some sort of use in this repetition, you are the one who is granted awareness. You and no one else."
He closes in on her, and Jane has nowhere to run. He comes near enough without invading her space like the first time. Jane can still see every little spot on his face, every droplet of sweat. Her heart is pounding.
"What good could you possibly be?"
Jane gawks at him, and barks a laugh of her own that she almost thinks makes him flinch. "Are you serious? You're really trying to imply that I'm only in this because of you."
He waves her answer off like it's nothing to him. "What other reason could there be, Jane Foster?"
"Oh, you've got to be kidding," she says, jabbing a finger into his armored chest. It hurts, but she bites it back. No way is he getting the satisfaction of knowing that. "So, what? This is about you and I get to come along for the ride because we're just such good friends, and you just can't live without me in your personal little corner of hell?"
"Be silent," he snaps. "Here I thought you were intelligent. Surely, you never believed that this was about you."
Jane falters. Her notebook filled with her jumbled up mess of notes is next to the bed behind him. She can read the large print from here. Clenching a fist, she returns his hard stare.
"Who says it's about either one of us," she shoots back with an ironic smile. "Maybe we're both just lucky."
Loki gives a little, displeased groan and walks around her.
"The things you'll come up with to ease your suffering. I should have expected this from a mortal."
Jane's blood boils.
"And what have you been doing, you're so much better than the 'mortals.' Why aren't you stopping this?"
"Be silent," Loki seethes, looking like he's just sucked on a practically sour lemon. It does wonders for Jane's mood.
"Oh, you can't, can you?" she says with great relish. He glares heatedly and Jane answers it with a coy smile. "Well, look at the big powerful God now. Can't even fix a little lapse in time."
If looks could kill, Jane wouldn't even be six feet under, she'd just be a pile of ash. It doesn't have nearly the effect it might have five minutes ago. Jane is done being afraid for now. It's been coming to this for a long time, ever since she first woke up and realized tomorrow hadn't come. All the fear and confusion and boredom and rage had welled up inside of her, leaking out here and there, but never spilling until now. Now she finally had someone to aim it at, and he's a more than deserving target.
Deserving, but not easy.
"Look at the impressive scientist," Loki mimics her tone perfectly. "Acts bigger than she is when in reality, she's happy to be bedded by the very one she ridicules."
"That has no bearing on this, and you know it," Jane says. Even as she does, she feels her face grow hot. Is she blushing? She leans over slightly to look at her reflection. Dammit, she's blushing. "I didn't even know it was you."
"Never lie to me, Jane Foster," he says firmly. "You called me by my name; you knew exactly who I was."
"I thought you were lying!" she cries. "I thought you were just some guy trying to get laid. I would never have done it if I knew it was you."
"You say that, and yet in the same breath you admit that your wish was to have me in your bed. You cannot have it both ways Jane Foster."
"If it were up to me, I wouldn't have it either way."
"What's done is done."
"Enough with this! Stop changing the subject."
"Then don't deny what you desired that night."
"That night is not important and even if it was, I don't want you."
"What did I say about lying to me?"
"I don't know, why don't you turn back the clock so we can do it over again? Oh wait, you can't."
"Woman, if you know what is good for you, you will not start that again."
"Oh, shut up, you hypocrite. What? Can't handle your poor, bruised ego?"
"I will not warn you again. Shut your mouth or feel my wrath, you little impudent little twit."
"Let me guess, you only care so much about what we did because some stupid bar sex is the only way you can feel big anymore. You can't do anything to stop this at all, can you? Face it you're as powerless as I am."
"SILENCE!"
"YOU FIRST!"
He smashes a fist through her vanity, which gives completely and sends her make-up and brushes rolling on the floor. It's only an inch or so to the left of her, and he's right in her face. For the third time now, they are close enough to feel each other's breath, but this isn't like all the other times. Jane is shaking and her clothes feel far too tight, and he looks no better. Jane will never be able to say for sure who makes the first move. She jumps right as he grabs her, and their lips are crushed together in a sloppy mess of a dance as their rage and lust filled moans mingle together. Their hands go for each other's hair. Loki doesn't care to not make it painful when he pulls out all of those knots, but the stinging feels so good right now.
He gets them over to the bed without looking, and Jane pushes him down on it. He waves his hand in the air around them. Jane doesn't know why at first, and then their clothes melt away, and she decides that she really likes magic a lot.
Hours go by and nighttime falls. The window is shut but Jane's seen plenty of stars. Unlike the first time, they don't hold each other in the afterglow. They keep as far from each other as humanly possible, which isn't much since Jane's bed is only built for one and their legs are still touching. Jane catches her breath and ignores the jolts of pain already going down her legs as she turns and looks Loki in the eye.
"Okay, we need to talk."