Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)
Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?
Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!
Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.
Reply to guest reviewers
Reader: Yes, the updates will come faster because my work is almost officially over and my 2 month long Spring Festival holiday of happiness will begin. And, of course, because socializing = stress = relieving stress by writing. I hope that the story will continue along the lines of something everyone can enjoy! Thank you for continuing to encourage! -KI
Well. I bought the last of my gifts... Just realized I don't have enough wrapping paper. Dang it... Sigh. Getting good wrapping paper over here is really difficult. Grrr... And the Christmas cards all have Santa on them. So tacky.
Anyways, in other news. Writing still goes on. Finishing 1/3 of my need-to-do baking - my 2 apple pies. Tomorrow (or rather, later today) (Christmas Eve), give Oral English exams to my Chinese students, run home and bake up a sweet potatoe casserole and stuffing and then run out to help my coworker proctor an exam and then... hmmm... go to an evening appetizer meal for Christmas Eve. Gosh. So. Because I won't be at home with my lappie, I will post another chapter earlier tomorrow (or rather, later today) than I usually do.
LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!
Christmas Magic
Chapter 10
Depths of Despair
"And in despair I bowed my head
There is no peace on earth I said
For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men."
("I heard the bells on Christmas Day" - sung by Harry Belafonte
The ride in the metal vehicle, the car, felt too long to the ex-God of Mischief, who tried his best to block out what memories arose in his mind as he considered what lay before him. Stomach twisting unpleasantly, Loki swallowed, shut his eyes and tried to relax. Hard to do with your hands cuffed too tightly behind your back. I am sure they are transgressing quite a few of their pathetic mortal laws to mistreat their prisoners so, he smirked to himself bitterly. Still, this is far, far better than the tender mercies of the One-eyed Man.
Pulled out of the car twenty minutes later, Loki felt as though things were only go from bad to worse before there was any hope of things getting better. There was the shock of harsh cold. Then less cold. Babble as prisoners were lined up and slowly processed one by one. Loki, of course, was set apart and not allowed to talk. Not that I have any desire to pass the time of day with these fools, Loki glared at Niels. If my hands were free – if there was no restriction – I would disembowel them and hang them with their guts as example to the rest of Midgard.
"OK, champ," grinned the law man assigned to him uneasily. He was middling-sized with brown, curly hair and sharp blue eyes. "Let's get your paperwork done, huh?"
"Champion?" Loki replied uncertainly. Was the mortal mocking him?
"You know, what, just forget it. Sit here."
Guiding Loki by the elbow, the man found an empty chair before an empty desk. Encouraged by the law men's more gentle nature, Loki twisted to look upward and gave the man his best 'I swear it wasn't me' look.
"If I promised not to try to escape, would you release me from these bonds?" Loki asked, shoving down another wave of homicidal rage as he pictured his pathetic self begging for mercy at the hands of a mere mortal. Here he was, once Prince of Asgard and if not loved at least feared and respected, hoping that the man would at the very least release the cuffs a bit.
Not that I'm affected by the pain... but seeing I am still stinging from that Midgardian bullet, I would rather be free. Facing a cell of angry criminals would not be so damaging if I could at least defend myself...
"Hahaha, you wish, buddy," the law man slapped him on the back, causing Loki to grit his teeth as his arms were jostled again, pulling at his now rather raw wrists. "Oh, but those look tight!" He leaned forward. "Here. I'll just loosen them a little." As the law man fumbled with his restraints, Loki felt the pressure ease and without intending to, he sighed a little, hoping that the law man couldn't see his relief behind the curtain of black hair which fell around his bent head.
"Jeffrey," a sturdy, brown woman with a mass of curly black hair walked over hands on her hips. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Just... making him... comfortable?"
"You know who this – this guy is?"
Loki's eyes shifted over to Jeffrey's face, also curious. The man had actually showed an inkling of kindness. This was new. Or perhaps, he is, like Thor, a romantic fool. His tired muscles were already unknotting and his hands felt like blood and life were returning to them. A kind fool, but a fool nonetheless.
"This – this guy is Loki," the woman sat down, jerking out some paper with lots of little square black boxes on it. She got a pen, although Loki had an idea how she would rather use the writing implement. "Loki. The supervillain who destroyed your folks' apartment in Manhattan and killed a ton of people! And brought aliens to our planet! And opened a wormhole."
"Portal," Loki interjected stiffly.
"Par-don?" The woman's voice rose querulously.
"It was a portal." Loki gazed back, expression totally serious. "To be more exact. It would behoove your no doubt incredibly fallible archivists to have correct records –"
"Don't get smart with me, mister. Are you brain damaged, Jeffrey?"
"Hey, Letty," the law man shifted uneasily. "Sounds crazy, I know – but it's that time of year – Christmas and –"
"It's the eleventh!" Letty protested. "Let's not all get saintly over someone who doesn't deserve when it's not even the day of!"
Loki's eyes shifted between Letty and Jeffrey, now rather intrigued. So this Midgardian festival is a time of charity then? Of course it would be. Definitely Thor's most favourite Midgardian festival. And perfect for me if I can use this spirit of charity to attain some aid –
Letty was now glaring at him, eyes like daggers. Jeffrey, turning away, grumbled about how people just didn't have the Christmas spirit anymore. Returning to the paperwork, Letty smirked at Loki, daring him to say anything.
Perhaps not with this mortal though. Loki pursed his lips and glanced around the large room. The rest of Niels' men were getting up from the desks they had sat opposite. Niels himself was nowhere to be seen. Which wasn't necessarily a good thing. Many of the law men instead of working on their desks were very obviously staring at Letty. And him. He stared back, eyes glittering them, daring them to say anything. None did. A wooden door with a small window at the end opened.
"Okayy... Well. For the record," Letty sighed, filling in information at the top. "Name?"
"Loki."
"Loooo... kiiiii... Last name?"
"It is just Loki."
"Loki. You can't not have a last name."
And you can't use grammar very well, you bint, Loki ground his teeth. Why does it always have to go like this?
"It is just Loki," he repeated stubbornly, settling down for long verbal sparring match.
"Forget it, Letty," a deeper voice spoke from the back of the room. A tall, fit, grey-haired man with a steely grey stare and lined face walked up to the desk and surveyed the two. "Just fill it in however you like, otherwise we'll be here all night. Just talked with Chief Wilson and he said the, ah, well, that Loki here is famous for delaying the inevitable. Probably the type which likes to listen to themselves talk. Write something up like 'disturbing the peace'. That's vague enough – and true enough."
"Sure, Chief."
Loki gave the man an irritated look, which intensified to hate when the law man dragged him to his feet by his elbow and hustled him to the long hall of cells. So he is not going to even attempt to pursue any form of justice and listen to what I have to say. Just like Father. Just like the rest of them. It irked him more than he wanted to admit. Why do I set myself up for disappointment all the time? You are not supposed be playing the fool, Loki. You are more intelligent than this...
"Walk," said the 'Chief'. Whatever that means. "No dragging your feet either, buster."
"Beg pardon," Loki said, eyes wide, trying to slow down even more. "Buster?"
"Never mind," said the Chief, pushing Loki forward again. "What cell is this trouble-maker headed to, Carson?" Trouble-maker. Ha. He knew that one.
"We've got a full house tonight." Carson flipped through his book with barely a glance at it. "At a pinch, we could throw him in the Cage." The Cage. Loki didn't like the sound of that.
"What was your first option?"
"Well, we were just going to toss him in Cell 4..."
"That'll do him fine. We'll see how it goes."
"Sure thing, no problemo, Chief." the man named 'Carson' shrugged.
Loki absently wondered if Carson's father made the metal machines. He had a feeling that the Chief would not be pleased should he attempt conversation with his men. Among other things, Loki was accredited with more powers of verbal manipulation than seemed possible. He never disabused them of the notion. A bit of fear never goes amiss. Usually, he amended as he was shoved into the cell and found himself nose to nose with Niels. With his hands still bound behind him.
Sagging back, for a moment, Loki's jaw tightened and his eyes shut as realization of what was to come set in. He hoped Niels was more violent than deviant – Loki would find out soon enough. Tiredly, his eyes rose and Loki's gaze rested tranquilly on Niels and the three goons slouching in the back looking like they were about to laugh at any moment. He chuckled to himself and turned to raise an eyebrow at the Chief who frowned back at him.
"I do not suppose I could ask for my bonds to be removed?" Loki sighed, already knowing the answer.
"Can't risk it."
"I do not know if your eyes are in working order," the ex-God of Mischief tried again, attempting to keep his anger down. "But there are four of them and there is only one of me. I hardly see how this is fair."
"Life isn't fair. Suck it up, buttercup."
"Flowers?" Loki coughed. "Please, spare me the moronic barbs. You mentioned another... cell..."
"The Cage?" The Chief stared at him thoughtfully. "Perhaps. We'll see. Have fun. Loki."
Loki watched as the man walked away and for a moment there was nothing but silence as the Chief made his way down the hallway and out. Nothing but silence and small snickers. He didn't dare turn around, but Loki knew without a doubt that things would get very messy within the next few minutes. If the law men in this place had any sense of Midgardian justice, they would pull his abused body from the cell within five minutes.
There were a couple parts of town Loki had no desire to return to, however. That one particular station which hadn't lifted a finger. They had stood by and watched. Literally. Watched as Loki had been put through a rudimentary course in Midgardian Torture and Assault 101. Not today, by the Norns, I will snap their necks and take the magical consequences, Loki thought distantly as a hand clasped his shoulder and turned him around to meet a fist which connected solidly with the side of his jaw and mouth.
Lifting his head, unable to wipe away the blood which ran down his chin, Loki breathed hard through his nose, refusing to call out. Refusing to beg. His eyes promised nothing but pain and rage – and a promise for future vengeance. If it is in my power, I will do it. I have naught to swear by but the Fates and my own strength.
Niels's eyes returned the promise. There was no need for words. The quality of the air, the tension and the responding blow to his ribs was answer enough.
-0-0-0-
"Boss."
"What is it now, Jeffrey?"
"Niels is, um, attacking Loki, sir."
"What's new."
"It's been already going for, uh, seven minutes."
Chief Riddell sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose for a bit.
"Jeffrey, what talk did we just have? Remember? Three minutes ago. Christmas is not able to justify stupidity or –"
"But sir, this is against every policy we stand for." Jeffrey said, firmly, catching the weary Chief's eyes. The man was obviously more than ready to go home, but had to remain for his long Tuesday shift until ten o'clock at night. It inevitably made the Chief a bit more testy. Jeffrey gulped and forged on. "I don't hold much by the UN, but I know when I see something unethical. This is it. And you know it, too. Sir."
"So, what do we do? Put him into isolation?"
"It's empty, it'll hold him twice as safely as the other facilities we have."
"Fine. Fine. Knock yourself out. But if he tries to take a bite out of you, I'm totally going to say I told you so. I can smell crazy on that bastard."
"Yes, sir. Of course, sir. You won't regret it."
"Oh, I'm regretting it. Already."
-0-0-0-
Loki came to with a start. And for a moment, all the muscles in his body seemed to tense and twist and for a moment, he wanted to scream and swear and hit something – but instead he lay there, breathing deeply, trying to calm himself down as he stared up at the row of piping on a light-brown ceiling.
Wait. It was the hallway. What... Dazed he looked around and discovered that he was on the other side of the bars. Again. Looking up as two men locked the gate, shouting abuse back at the inmates. Jeffrey was there, eyes regretful as he pulled Loki carefully to his feet. His touch was light, but Loki felt incredibly tired and sensitive and he jerked away roughly, swaying on his feet. He wondered if Jeffrey could feel the full weight of his heavy, angry look. He thought not.
"We're putting you in isolation," Jeffrey said. "Too dangerous for you to hang out with the rest, as you know – but then, it usually always is, huh."
Isolation. Yes. Yes. That was good. No. No. No, it wasn't. Loki found himself being pushed forward again, passing Niels's dark, glimmering eyes which promised more violence in the future and Loki steered his thoughts away from his newest memory. Niels's feet in his side. A taunting voice as Loki curled up on the cell floor attempting to protect himself from the oncoming blows. And now, he'd be alone. Alone yes, that is a blessing. Far away from pain and a chance to heal his broken ribs and fractured wrist. Alone. By the Norns, he'd go mad again from the silence.
Before he knew it, they were pushing him down the stairs to another quiet hallway in the basement. To a small door that looked rarely used. To an equally small room. Empty. With nothing but a plain cot in the corner. A small slot in the door.
"Can't remove your cuffs," Jeffrey said regretfully. Paused. "But I can switch them so your hands are, um, cuffed in front."
Loki nodded and allowed the cop to stand him against the wall, unlocking one cuff, turning Loki around swiftly to reattach it to his thin, now very torn wrist. Jeffrey frowned but said nothing. There was nothing he could do. Loki could tell he wished he could do more. The fool, Loki thought. The kind fool. There is nothing you can do to make this right. Nothing in this world can make this right.
"Th-thank you," Loki choked out the words, feeling the gratitude burn like acid in his throat. A necessity he hated to draw on.
Jeffrey nodded stiffly. And left, the door shutting behind him with finality. Loki made his way over to the small cot and laid down, drawing his knees up to fold himself on to it. There was a short argument behind the door and it ended with a louder, "He probably needs the sleep. And he deserves it." His cries of protest went unheard and he fell silent as the smothering dark descended.
Loki. In solitary. In the dark. Sulu/George Takei: Ohhhhh mmyyyy~ Poor Loki. He's going to need a lot of loving! As does your beloved author! Send me a shout and let me know what you think!