The next morning, Loki stood in front of his bedroom mirror, stretching.
It felt good to be himself again. The problem with shape changing was that no matter how closely your altered form favoured your sensibilities, it never fit as well as your own skin.
Now, what to wear?
The wardrobe in the room had a black SHIELD field uniform and boots but Loki thought it formless and mundane. Besides the idea of wearing it sat ill with him: almost as if he were too eager to be one of them. He settled for an old favourite of his, conjuring it from his own restored magic.
It was the same outfit he had worn when visiting Thor during his forced exile in New Mexico. It was not one of his more tailored, luxurious outfits but it was comfortable and Loki liked how he looked in it. He didn't want to wear his armour for what he planned to do but he wanted to seem in a position of strength.
His plan would normally be considered an extremely petty one: go get something to eat for breakfast. But the thought of going to the canteen surrounded by resentful, potentially hostile Midgardians was causing his stomach to growl with something other than hunger. He knew it was foolish: nobody would dare say or do anything to incur his wrath! Would they?
Adjusting the scarf hanging from his shoulders, Loki left his bedroom and closed the door behind him. Loki could hear gentle snores emanating from the shut door that led to Steve's room. He quashed the little voice in his head that suggested he could wait for Steve to awaken before venturing out by walking determinedly out of their shared quarters.
The base was quiet as Loki had anticipated. He had set the alarm clock in his room for 7am so he could explore the base at his own pace. Despite what he said to Steve, he did not plan to venture into any restricted areas. He liked the arrangement he had and wasn't about to do anything to jeopardise it. He followed the corridor towards the canteen and encountered a few people. They did not speak to him but a couple flinched when they saw him coming and he felt their eyes burning into his back as he passed. He pretended not to notice and held his head up high.
As he turned a corner, he saw the Avenger called Falcon approaching, munching on a bagel. He saw Loki and swallowed his mouthful.
'Mornin'', he said, not light enough to be overcompensating but not easy enough to be casual.
Loki nodded in acknowledgment, unsure of what else to say. The Falcon seemed about to say something but decided against it and continued his journey in the direction Loki had come. Loki didn't blame him: in fact he was grateful he had avoided what was sure to be an uncomfortable conversation.
As he entered the canteen, a hush fell over the room. There were only about twenty SHIELD personnel that Loki could see at a glance scattered around the various tables but he was fairly sure every one of them was staring at him. He walked past them, trying to ignore how loud his footsteps sounded in the sudden silence. Then the whispers started. The nudges. The dark looks in his direction. Couldn't they try to be subtle about it?! Despite the fact he was stronger than any of them, Loki felt his heart begin to race. This sensation was unpleasantly familiar: it brought back memories of the learning hall. He had never been popular and his lonely demeanour had made him an easy target for bullies, keen to 'show the princeling his place'.
But he was not a 'princeling' anymore. It was good that they feared him! They should. He would not retreat just because a few worms dared turn in his direction!
He selected a table in the corner and sat so his back was facing the wall. It was only when he sat down that he realised that, whilst his chosen seat afforded him an excellent view of the room, it was far away from the breakfast bar. If he wanted something to eat, he would have to cross the room again and suffer the multitude's resentful stares. Even then, what should he eat? He knew he liked bacon but what did Midgardians eat with it at breakfast? He was about to give up on the whole ill-conceived enterprise when he saw the witch come in.
As soon as she locked eyes with Loki, Wanda knew she couldn't go back to her room.
Even though she had seen him the night before as a child, she knew the lean, pale man in the corner was him. But, how had he known that table was her favourite to sit at?! Had he read her mind the way she had read his?!
So how was she going to play this? Loki was not looking at her anymore, choosing to gaze out of one of the large windows but she knew he was paying attention to her. Usually she ate in the canteen with Vision but he was busy analysing the data on Loki that he had scanned the night before. But she was alone now. Conscious she was still standing in the doorway, she asked herself: what would Natasha do?
'Fine', she thought, making a decision, 'Let's do this'.
She didn't look at Loki as she began her approach, looking at the illuminated breakfast menu running along an automated screen.
She could hear whispering as she passed some of the tables and stiffened automatically, all too familiar with hurtful gossip and snide, semi heard remarks. It was not as bad as it had been with Hydra but SHIELD personnel were perfectly capable of casting their own unfounded judgements. They always thought she and Vision couldn't hear the way some of them whispered. Vision always counselled her not to let it get to her but it was hard. Some of what she was hearing said about Loki was all too familiar.
'Sitting there after all he's done?'
'Can't believe we let something like that in here'.
'You know I hear that's not even what he really looks like. He's got fangs and red eyes and-'
'You think he's done somethin' to Cap?'
Wanda, surprisingly, felt a stab of anger. If anyone deserved scorn it was Loki but why didn't these hardened soldiers have the courage to say it to his face?! She knew for a fact that some of them hadn't even been in New York!
She strode determinedly past the whispers and venom and sat down at the same table as Loki without missing a beat. She was gratified to see Loki's eyes widen as he turned his full attention to the intruder.
'You're not eating?' she asked him.
'I didn't know what to get', Loki said, caution in his voice.
It reminded Wanda of a little boy's confusion at being approached by a girl. It emboldened her somewhat: the look in his eyes was too genuine to be faked.
'I know what to get', she said and left the table.
She returned a few moments later with two styrofoam cups of a steaming, brown liquid. She set one down in front of Loki and sipped her own.
'It's coffee', she said.
Loki took a careful sip and 'hmmed' appreciatively. It was strong but tantalizingly bitter.
'It's also an apology', Wanda said, 'For yesterday'.
Loki was about to say something but a sudden outburst of laughter stopped him. It was a distinctive laughter: the kind of laughter generated by an amusing but incredibly unkind observation. Wanda had to fight the urge to turn around, mouth tightening.
'You're used to it too aren't you?' Loki asked.
Wanda looked at her breakfast companion and saw solidarity in Loki's weary gaze despite it being aimed at the table.
'Perhaps we both are?' Wanda proposed, 'All the more reason we should get to know each other'.
'I'm surprised you want to be anywhere near me after yesterday', Loki said, 'What you saw'.
Wanda felt her face flush as she met Loki's probing stare. She wondered if he could read minds too? She had seen things in Loki's head that she hoped to never see again but that would no doubt visit her in her nightmares.
'I didn't mean to see', she said remorsefully, 'I only meant to-'
'It doesn't matter what you meant to do', Loki said, running a finger distractedly around the rim of his coffee cup.
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Wanda nearly jumped when Loki abruptly spoke.
'Stev-the soldier mentioned you might benefit from a tutor'.
Wanda's eyes narrowed.
'Like I told Vision and you can tell Captain Rogers, I am in control of my powers. I do not need a teacher. Besides I don't think you…'
'Are qualified?' Loki asked, raising an eyebrow, 'Can be trusted? Know how a woman's mind works?'
Wanda looked pensively into the depths of her coffee, unable to think of an answer. She knew Loki liked to play games but she was having a hard time parrying his verbal barbs.
Then she found herself under assault from a sugar cube.
It plonked into her coffee cup and vanished.
Looking up, she saw Loki was using his magic to levitate more cubes out of a nearby dish. They were rotating slowly like a miniature planetarium. She watched him flick a finger and another cube ended up in her coffee.
'Can you stop that?' she asked, confused.
'Of course I can', Loki said, flicking his finger again, 'With but a thought'.
Wanda's coffee was now more sugar than coffee.
'Quit it!' Wanda snapped, 'Why are you doing that?!'
'Seeing how long it takes you to stop me', Loki said airily, 'I don't take on every pupil that comes knocking'.
He telekinetically threw another sugar cube. This one stopped dead just before it made contact with the coffee.
Loki smiled in satisfaction as he saw Wanda's eyes flash blood red.
The sugar cube flew and smashed in granules as it hit the window.
'How's that for knocking?' Wanda asked.
Loki nodded in agreement, then suddenly threw the entire dish of sugar cubes right at her.
Wanda threw up both hands to cover her face and she felt her instinctive magic rush to protect her.
She heard a strange noise and lowered her hands.
There was a white pile on the table. It had once been the ceramic dish mixing with pulverised sugar cubes. Wanda's eyes widened. She had only meant to stop it!
Loki was looking at the pile thoughtfully.
Wanda, feeling her cheeks burning, started to look around for napkins. Loki held up a hand to stop her. Wanda watched him pass that same hand over the scattered debris. The pile of ash like remains began to move like wind across a sandy beach and reform. Wanda watched Loki conscientiously recreate the bowl and then stack each individual cube back inside. She felt like she was hypnotised. It was such a mundane collection of objects but Loki's magic was beautiful. He made it look effortless, his lean fingers moving like a master pianist's as he invoked the necessary gestures.
'Magic is not something you can turn on and off', Loki said, finishing his manoeuvre, 'It's part of you'.
He looked right into her eyes.
'Why are you afraid of yourself?'
Wanda left the table, trying to ignore the too interested stares of the other people in the canteen. What did he know?! Why was he butting into her business?! She was just trying to be friendly!
She nearly bumped into Steve on his way in. Giving him no time to ask her how she was, she pushed past him, mortified by how easily Loki had gotten to her.
'Makin' friends?' Steve asked, sitting across from Loki.
'Pushing buttons', Loki corrected.
'You'll be sorry when she explodes', Steve joked but his smile faded when he saw Loki's serious expression.
'She has too tight a control on her powers', Loki explained.
'Thought control was a good thing?' Steve asked.
'There's a difference between control and suppression', Loki elaborated, 'She's so focused on what she wants it to do that she pushes it too hard: instead of just doing it, she thinks about it too much. So when something unexpected happens, she doesn't have enough control to react. All the force gets redirected at whatever has caught her attention'.
'You got all that from talking to her just now?' Steve asked, impressed.
'She wasn't born with them', Loki theorised, more to himself than Steve, 'Otherwise she would just take them for granted: use them without thinking. There are no magical teachers on Midgard that I'm aware of. How did she gain these abilities?'
It was good that Loki was at least intrigued by Wanda but Steve wasn't about to start telling him sensitive information Wanda may not want shared with, technically, a 'stranger'.
'That's Wanda's business', Steve said, shrugging, 'Sorry'.
Loki shrugged and finished his coffee.
'How about we get two coffees to go?' Steve offered.
'Upsetting feeding time at the zoo am I?' Loki asked.
Steve glanced behind him and saw the people who had been staring at them (AKA the entire canteen) turn their attention back to their own food and half-hearted attempts at spontaneous conversation.
'You still like doughnuts?' Steve asked, totally unconcerned.
'I'm going to spend the day studying for my next test', Steve said, wiping his mouth, 'But I've thought up a project to keep you busy'.
He held out a notebook to Loki.
Loki wiped his hands free of sugar from the fifth doughnut he had eaten. Free of the scrutiny of others, Loki had traded his conjured clothes for a grey sweatshirt and trousers. He took the notebook from Steve and flipped it open.
It contained pages and pages of what appeared to be titles, grouped under different headings: music, movie, TV, theatre…
Loki realised it was a copy of the notebook he had seen Steve use: a portal to the modern world via its cultural multimedia. He sensed Steve looking at him expectantly and wasn't sure what to say.
He was confused why Steve thought he needed it but he also realised each entry was hand written. This had taken Steve considerable time to write. It was also a brand new notebook: green in colour. Loki's signature colour. Had Steve thought about that when he had decided to write the list in it? Loki had a sneaking suspicion he had which also determined his response.
'Where do I start?' he asked.
'Wherever you like', Steve said, gratified Loki was accepting the challenge, 'I've deliberately only included things you can find here in the room. Should help you kill some time. Who knows? You might even enjoy some of it'.
'How could I not with such tantalizing titles?' Loki commented drily, 'Lady Gaga? Ziggy Stardust? Backstreet Boys?'
'Maybe we should tackle music together', Steve conceded, remembering his culture shock at hearing heavy metal for the first time, 'Pick one of the movies okay?'
He gestured to the huge collection behind him. After watching Loki begin to select titles by cross referencing the notebook, he felt satisfied enough to head to his room to hit the books.
Four hours later, Steve left his room, feeling pleased with his latest practice test scores to find Loki watching him on television.
It was one of his old propaganda movies from World War Two but it wasn't the first one in the series. It had been a long time since Steve had watched them but he recognised the scene Loki was watching. Captain America and his squad were infiltrating a secret Nazi base to rescue the Princess Brunhilde and defeat the deadly Dr Mindbender. Loki had just gotten to the part with the alligator pit when Steve was about to punch out twelve rubber alligators in quick succession, the Princess clinging to his shoulders helplessly.
Loki's laughter signalled what he thought of the whole scenario. Steve didn't blame him.
Despite knowing Loki had somehow found even more ammunition to use against him, Steve realised he had never heard Loki laugh before. Not with genuine amusement at any rate: it was always at someone's expense or tinged with venom.
'Can't get enough of me huh?' Steve asked loudly and smiled when he saw Loki jump.
He must've been truly engrossed for the film to override his normal paranoia.
Loki tried to recover.
'Just seeing what a hero is supposed to look like', Loki smirked, 'I think the spider woman is right: I certainly don't have your talent for 'sneaking around' through use of heavy ordnance'.
'You're not bothered by what she said last night are you?' Steve asked.
Loki stretched, as if to telegraph how 'not bothered' he was.
'Every villain is a hero in their own mind', he said in a tone that signalled the end of that particular conversation route.
He picked up the DVD box. Steve saw he had been right: Loki was on volume five of a set of twelve.
'Why were these hidden at the very end of the bottom shelf?' he asked, voice innocent but eyes glittering with insinuation.
'They weren't what I signed up to do', Steve said, trying to ignore Loki enjoying his self-consciousness, 'They…haven't aged well'.
'You shouldn't be embarrassed', Loki said, examining the cover critically, 'You must've been proud of them once. Why keep them otherwise?'
Steve took the DVD case from Loki and looked at the cover. It was the same as the poster the studios had used to advertise it in cinemas. He couldn't keep a nostalgic smile from his face. He never went to the premieres even though he had been invited every time. He had always waited until he could go see them amongst normal cinema goers. He liked to pretend he was one of them. It was nice to hear people react. The kids gasp and cry out to warn Captain America of danger, the men applauding and whooping when America saved the day, the girls giggling to each other as they made naughty, hushed remarks to each other. Seeing people so happy…it had almost made the movies worthwhile even if all Steve had wanted to do was serve his country on the front lines.
'I guess you're right', Steve said, 'Did you like it?'
'My knowledge of films is sketchy', Loki said, 'But…yes, I think so. Very amusing'.
Loki picked up his notebook and as he flicked through the pages, Steve saw various entries had been marked with colourful sticky notes.
'So that's where those went', Steve thought, 'Looks like he's used the whole pack'.
'I saw the strangest things in the heads of those I controlled with the sceptre', Loki said, eyes scanning the pages, 'At first I assumed they were delusions or glimpses of nightmares. I had no idea humans could use computers to create such realistic illusions'.
'Is that praise I hear?' Steve teased.
'Distinctly grudging in tone I assure you', Loki deadpanned.
'But I get what you mean', Steve said, leaning on the back of the sofa, 'Nobody warned me about anything before I saw 'Jurassic Park' for the first time. I thought all the science mumbo jumbo in it was true!'
He felt a stab of guilt as he remembered who it was who had tried to convince him: Tony had laughed himself sick when Natasha had finally explained the truth to Steve.
'What does 'Jurassic' mean?' Loki asked but then asked another question before Steve could answer, 'Also, this 'Star Wars' on the list appears to fluctuate between seven movies and four, then three and the three in question are technically films four, five and six in the sequence?'
'Yeah, they're…contentious', Steve said, 'Hey…you ever had popcorn?'
'I've had un-popped corn', Loki answered.
Steve picked up the next 'Captain America' movie in the collection and tossed it to Loki.
'Captain America: The Mountains of Mars?' Loki read.
'That one's good. I fight a giant monster', Steve said, 'I'll be back in a minute. You think movies are cool, wait'll you see what a microwave can do'.
Loki went to pop in the disc, wondering what connection there could possibly be between an interspace mission involving a 'giant monster' and a Midgardian territorial squabble.
It was only when Steve felt that his eyes were beginning to itch with strain that he realised he and Loki had been watching for three hours straight. He looked through the blinds and saw the sky was darkening already.
On the TV, the credits rolled for the final movie in the 'Captain America' collection. Despite how 'corny' they seemed now, watching them had brought back good memories. The people he'd worked with, the conversations with the crew, the buzz from the press and the audience. Loki had seemed engaged too, asking Steve questions to get context or just asking about production gossip. Who would've thought a self-styled 'god' would be interested in the 'little people'? Or enjoy popcorn so much: they had easily gotten through four bowls of the stuff!
He was going to ask Loki if he felt like some real food and froze.
How long had Loki's head been resting on his shoulder? How long had Loki been sleeping?!
Steve listened to Loki's gentle breathing as he turned to look at him, careful not to disturb him.
He noticed a strange flickering on Loki's face and realised Vison had been right. If he squinted, Steve could see a noticeable scar through a hazy surface: Loki was still using magic to hide his scars. Steve knew Loki never showed his true blue skinned face but he was surprised that the wounds Loki had shown him during his time imprisoned by SHIELD hadn't healed yet. What kind of weapon could damage someone like Loki so badly?
He reached over slowly and carefully lifted a strand of hair away from Loki's closed eyes. Loki's eyelids flickered at Steve's gentle movement and he smiled, still asleep. It was odd to see him so peaceful. Usually Loki was so guarded and aware of everything around him but here he was, letting himself be in such a helpless position.
Loki gave a strange moan as his smile vanished. His brow creased. Realising Loki was having a nightmare, Steve, on impulse, placed a hand on Loki's head. Loki quieted again and Steve felt the softness of Loki's hair beneath his fingers. Loki's smile returned and Steve's heart jumped as he felt Loki move closer to him. He felt a strange shiver creeping up his spine and warmth rush to his face.
Something about that smile was so…
Steve took a deep breath and tried to compose himself. His heart was hammering.
This wasn't right. He wasn't that way!
Things had moved on since his day but he had never…
He had felt something for Peggy so he couldn't be…
Even if he was, he couldn't seriously be feeling that way for Loki?!
Could he?
Suddenly a green light enveloped Loki, blinding Steve. He yanked his hand back, worried he may have triggered another of Loki's subliminal defences.
Then as quickly as it had come, it was gone.
So was Loki's adult form.
Kid Loki was blinking blearily but his bared teeth signalled he was well aware of his status. He leapt up and nearly tripped over his overlarge clothes. He gathered them as well as he could and spun about, looking at his body with resentment.
'Temporary', he said angrily before turning his attention to Steve, 'Why didn't you wake me?! I wasted my last hour at full power asleep!'
Steve actually babbled nonsense as a response, too overwhelmed by his own self-discovery but managed to latch onto the one sentence ticking through his brain that made sense.
'Vision said that if you stop masking your scars and show your true form, you could save magic?'
Loki scowled, grabbed the popcorn bowl (still half full with popcorn) and slammed his bedroom door behind him. Steve slapped his own forehead.
Loki locked the door behind him and placed the bowl on his bed. He pulled off the adult sized clothes and threw them in a bundle onto the floor in a fit of childish pique.
How could he have fallen asleep?! Just his blasted luck: waste his time sleeping and watching pointless movies! How could he let his guard down?! Was it a side effect of the witch's power boost wearing off? Or because…
He felt safe with Steve.
He heard a knock on the door behind him.
'You should take your own advice you know', Steve's voice said, 'You shouldn't be ashamed. Trust me. We've seen worse here'.
Loki did not dignify that with a response. He hated it when Steve tried to be reasonable and he hated it even more when he was right.
He heard Steve's footsteps fade as he realised Loki wasn't going to respond. He heard the heavy door leading to the outside corridor close, signalling Steve had left the chambers entirely. Loki felt a fresh flash of annoyance: well, Steve had practically broken down the door hadn't he?!
Loki ran his hands over his face, realising how countermanding this was.
What was wrong with him?!
As he lowered his hands, he caught sight of himself in his mirror.
Sighing and bracing himself, he completely dropped his illusion.
He met his reflection's red eyes and grimaced, showing sharpened teeth. His bruised looking skin shone in the light of his room, punctuated by ugly pale blue scars: evidence of Thanos' less than tender care. He ran a clawed finger along the markings on his forehead. They were like tattoos or branding: they were too stylised to be random skin markings for a frost giant but he had no idea what they meant.
He turned his gaze away, unable to stomach looking at it anymore.
Steve, or rather Vision, had a point. It would save magic: he could sleep like this and make the most of the recharging period.
But he'd be damned if he would ever let any of them see him like this!
Especially not Steve. Once was quite enough and for some reason, he wanted to make sure he in particular would never see it again.
'After all', he thought ruefully, 'they don't need further proof of the monster in their midst'.
'It wore off?' Wanda asked, surprised.
She went to her music system and paused the original cast of 'Wicked'. Steve nodded from his position on her couch. Like Steve's rooms, Wanda had her own living room. Steve had originally gone out to clear his head and give Loki time to simmer and cope with his disappointment. But he had found himself drawn to Wanda's room when he had heard her singing. She sang when she was in a good mood: a good time to address the events of that morning in the canteen as well as what had just happened to Loki.
'Just now. Judging from the time, it must've only been good for twenty-four hours', Steve said.
'How is he supposed to teach me then?' Wanda asked.
'You're gonna give it a shot then?' Steve asked, hopeful.
'I don't think I have much choice', Wanda conceded, eyes downcast, 'What if…next time my mistake's bigger than a sugar bowl?'
'I really wish you could've met Bruce Banner properly', Steve said regretfully.
'Me too', Wanda said, guilt creeping into her voice.
They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes until Wanda broke it.
'He scares me'.
She sat beside Steve, fingers twiddling distractedly.
'The things I saw in his head', she said, voice quiet, 'The things he survived. It scares me that he is not scared'.
Steve understood Wanda's perception but he also now understood Loki. He truly was a master of illusion. Fighting down his own confused feelings about Loki so he could better reassure Wanda, he shook his head.
'I think he just hides it better', Steve said thoughtfully.
'We all try', Wanda said sadly, 'Don't we?'
Steve nodded.
After a few further moments of silence, Wanda nodded her consent.
'I'll do it'.
Recognising how hard it was to ask for help like she had, Steve placed a hand on Wanda's shoulder. It felt thin and small beneath his hand.
'You can do this', Steve said, 'I believe in you'.
'Let's hope it's not misplaced. In either of us', Wanda thought mutinously despite herself, stomach churning with butterflies as she thought of the training to come.
