Randomness Note: I wish to tell you of random things that vaguely have to do with the story but not really, so you can skip this if you want and get straight to the chapter… but if you wish to laugh at my ice cream-hyped randomness, go ahead.

You know how Emmie always flips daggers and/or hypodermic needles over and under her fingers absentmindedly? I went to a wedding reception where they had glow-sticks handed out to everyone… I ended up doing the exact same thing as Emmie, flipping the glow-stick over and under each finger. XD Oh, god, the Mastermind Murderess is getting to me more than I thought…

Also, I just watched The Pirate Fairy featuring Tom Hiddleston as a young James Hook… I'm kind of scarred for life… Yet was grinning and laughing every time he spoke… and OMG he freaking sang! *fangirl* Do I recommend the movie? …Nah. Don't know why I bothered watching it… well, yeah, I know why… cause Netflix doesn't have any other Tom Hiddleston movies available to stream besides the Avengers. :P Wow I'm deeply disturbed now…

After I finished the Pirate Fairy, I proceeded to watch about an hour of interviews with Tom Hiddleston randomly on YouTube… I love him. He's just… awesome. And have you seen him do an impersonation of a velociraptor?! You don't get it… I have loved Jurassic Park since forever… and Hiddleston can impersonate a velociraptor? *squee* I want one. What? A Hiddleston or a raptor? Yes. Both, please. Alright, I'm going to go back to giving you people what you came here for… Behold the next chapter of Twisted Minds Think Alike.

Mental Agony

"I think we've reached an agreement," Emmie declared, smiling deviously. Her heart still raced at the thought of finding out exactly what had happened to make her this way.

Loki smiled slightly and released his grip on the blade of the dagger. "I believe we have. You'll be accompanying me to New York then."

Emmie was inspecting the blade of the dagger, double checking that it hadn't gotten damaged after she had buried its point in the wall. "Seems like that's the plan now, right? I'll be the bait, you're the hook, and SHIELD's the fish. And in return, I get out of this room and information on my… change." She didn't meet Loki's eyes as she recounted the idea. She frowned at the dagger slightly and polished the blade with a handful of her t-shirt's hem.

"And you don't betray me. No attempted assassinations," Loki added quickly, glancing to where she was still polishing the dagger with the hem of her shirt. He couldn't help but notice that a small strip of her stomach was exposed as she ran the cloth of her shirt over the dagger's length. He quickly forced his gaze from the bare skin of her midriff back to her eyes.

Emmie's eyes met Loki's, and she smirked slightly. She had caught that. He was looking at her when her shirt was lifted a few inches. "Flattering, Loki," she purred. "But just because I gave you my first kiss doesn't mean you're getting anything else."

Loki rolled his eyes. "Don't flatter yourself. I was looking at the dagger. Again, I won't tolerate assassination attempts."

Emmie looked thoughtful. She smiled. "I'd like to point out that you said you won't tolerate attempted assassinations. You said nothing about successful ones."

"You wouldn't be able to succeed in assassinating me, Mastermind Murderess. I'm a god," Loki scoffed, giving the teen a disdainful look.

Emmie cocked an eyebrow. "So… does that make you immortal? Like, you're never gonna die, god of mischief and lies?"

Loki sneered at her. "I never said that. I said you weren't capable of killing me. It takes far more than you would be able to inflict to end my life."

Emmie wrinkled her nose. "Offending me is supposed to, what, discourage me from trying to kill you? Your logic's a little flawed there." She began flipping the dagger over and under each finger absentmindedly.

Loki smiled humorlessly. "I thought we had established that you have no power, Emmie. Or do you need a reminder of what real power is?"

Emmie rolled her eyes, exaggerating the gesture to make sure Loki noticed it. "No, I don't need a reminder what 'real power' is," she said sarcastically.

"Then you'd do well to remember that you have none."

"Then I wonder why you're asking for my help, and not the other way around?" Emmie wondered aloud flippantly.

"You're a chess piece, Emmie," Loki reminded her. "Only a chess piece. Sometimes the king needs help from a pawn or a rook. But I can take you off the board whenever I want to, and you might not get what information you want."

Emmie's fingers paused in flipping the dagger's blade over and under each phalange. She pursed her lips and let out a hum of thought. She crossed the room and sat on the bed. "Fine. You want cooperation? I'll give it to you. Explain the plan to me."

Loki considered the girl. It was really quite surprising how desperate she was to find out what had happened in her past to create her present. Emmie, apparently, was a believer in the idea of not knowing where you're going until you know where you've been. And Loki could use that against her by holding the promise of information over her head. Her twisted little head.

Loki slowly made his way to the bed and sat to Emmie's right. He opened his mouth to begin explaining, but the girl cut him off.

"And just so you know, you don't have to hold my hand or trace shapes across my palms while you explain the plan," she said scathingly, wicked mischief glinting in her eyes.

Loki gave her a dirty look. "Hadn't we agreed to never speak of that again, Maria?"

Her eyes flashed dangerously at the sound of her full name. "This dagger's starting to look pretty inviting, Loki," she murmured, holding up the now-sheathed blade.

"So is that door," Loki smirked. "Shall I leave and not come back? Shall I not tell you what you wish to know?"

Emmie gritted her teeth, hating that Loki was right. He did have real power over her. "Whatever," she muttered mutinously, the dagger remaining sheathed in her tight grip. "New York. What's the plan?"

Loki told her as much as he dared, which wasn't much. Enemies of SHIELD were going to wreak havoc on the Helicarrier, sneaking in to provide an escape for Loki and Emmie. Emmie's job was to drop a few hints to SHIELD agents as to where they were going. And she was supposed to tempt said agents that she would need to be rescued, and that she wasn't going with Loki of her own accord. And then on to New York, and there Loki was planning to summon an army, which would overpower the Earth's defenses, leaving Loki with control over the world. And at some point, Loki was supposed to give Emmie the information she desired on her condition.

As Loki finished, Emmie gave him a thoughtful look. She had, at some point, absentmindedly begun flipping the dagger between her fingers again. "Well…" she said, biting her lip as she thought over Loki's plan.

Loki waited for her opinion., discreetly glancing at the dagger in her hand to make sure she didn't do anything with it she wasn't supposed to.

"Good plan," Emmie conceded slowly.

Loki nodded approvingly.

"Theoretically," Emmie continued.

Loki paused and frowned. "Meaning?"

"Meaning that it works as long as SHIELD takes the bait we lay out for them. And as long as your army is as formidable as you claim."

Loki glared at her. "You question me?" Her words put him on edge. The conversation echoed one he had had not long ago, with the Chitauri leader. He had questioned their strength as well, dubious about the ability of the army he had been promised.

Emmie saw the uneasy look in Loki's eyes. Apparently her concerns had crossed his mind as well. "I don't necessarily question you. I question the guy who's orchestrating all this… the one who put the scepter in your hand."

Loki went tense as the girl's words repeated in his head. In his memory, more followed. 'He who gave you ancient knowledge and new purpose when you were cast out; defeated.' The words 'I was a king! The rightful king of Asgard, betrayed' rang in his head. His own words. His hands balled into fists. "In all honesty… I question him as well."

Emmie's eyes flicked up to his in surprise.

Loki sensed her surprise at his admission, but he didn't turn to look at her, knowing she was giving him a calculating look. "Much relies on things out of our—my control," he muttered, quickly correcting himself. There was no 'we' or 'our' or 'us' with him and Emmie.

Emmie was, quite frankly, astonished that Loki had admitted to having some doubt in the upcoming events. It made her wonder just who it was that was orchestrating all of this. Loki was the one in control, but there was someone goading him on, who would take their spoils once Loki had done the dirty work. Much in the same way that Loki would take his own spoils once his agents, Emmie, and the Chitauri had done the dirty work. "If you question him, then why are you…" she paused and smiled wryly. "Cooperating?"

Loki's jaw clenched. "Call it symbiosis."

Emmie smirked slightly. "Interesting way to put it. Depending on each other to get benefits?"

"That's the general definition."

"What are you getting, exactly, Loki?" Emmie asked.

Loki glanced at the girl out of the corner of his eyes. "Rule. Kingship."

"And what does… he get?"

"The Tesseract."

Emmie frowned. "What does he want with it?"

"Not my concern. I get the Earth, and he gets the Tesseract. I have no interest in further details of the transaction." He decided to withhold the fact that failure to succeed in holding up his side of the transaction would result in… severe unpleasantness for him. She didn't need to know that he needed to succeed. For more reasons than one. Both for his own satisfaction, and for avoidance of excruciating torture at the hands of the one who put the scepter in his hands. Emmie didn't need to know the details of that particular bit.

Emmie's eyes remained on Loki, measuring his words, countenance, and body language. He was hiding something. She just wasn't sure if it concerned her. "So… does that make our relationship symbiotic? I help you, you give me information?"

Loki grinned mischievously. "I don't know, Mastermind. You seem rather parasitic at times."

Emmie scoffed. "I wouldn't talk if I were you." She paused as she saw Loki's expression. "What?"

Loki looked irate. "Give me the dagger." Emmie's grip tightened on her weapon protectively. "Now, Emmie!" he snapped. The girl made no move to follow his orders. Loki growled and made a grab for the sheathed dagger.

Emmie leaned back, her grip tightening further on the dagger's hilt in alarm. "Hell, no! I'm not giving you it back just because—"

"Damn it, Emmie, now!" Loki demanded. He caught hold of her wrist and managed to yank the dagger and sheath out of her grip.

Emmie opened her mouth to protest as Loki got the weapon from her grip and stood from the bed. She immediately stood to lunge at him and attempt to regain control of the weapon, but Loki quickly shoved her back onto the mattress.

"Emmie, sit down and shut up," Loki hissed urgently.

"What the hell are you-?!" Emmie broke off immediately as the door to her room suddenly opened. The girl froze as if she was made of stone.

Her eyes met that of her mother. Agent Hill stepped into the room slowly, looking anxious.

"Emmie," Agent Hill murmured as she stepped into her daughter's room. She hadn't seen her daughter in nearly a year. Ever since… the incident. Now she saw her daughter, sitting on the bed in the room, looking resentful about something. The girl was alone in the room, but Hill was sure she had heard talking in the room just moments before she opened the door.

Emmie's blood ran cold at the sound of her mother speaking her name. her mind whirled. The teen stared, her eyes taking in the expression of her mother. She calculated the information gathered there quickly: Agent Maria Hill was nervous, made evident by the tenseness in her posture, but she was hopeful, obvious from the expression in her mother's eyes. And that sadness was there, too. The sadness that Emmie hated was represented by the woman's lips pressed tightly together to avoid them trembling. Emmie's hands clenched into fists, already missing the feeling of having the dagger to hold. Her eyes broke away from her mother's for a quick second. Loki was gone, as she suspected. It was just Emmie and her mother. And Emmie wasn't sure how to react. She realized her hands were shaking, and that her eyes were pricked with pain, and her vision was slightly blurry.

Loki, invisible to the mortals' eyes, stood observing in the corner. He had been so wrapped up in talking to Emmie that he hadn't sensed the agent outside the door until she was only a few feet away. He watched with raised eyebrows as Emmie's mother entered. He watched both women's expressions as they locked eyes. The mother looked worried but hopeful. The daughter looked nothing short of shocked. The teenager glanced quickly around the room, no doubt checking that Loki had disappeared. Her eyes snapped back to her mother as she uttered her name. And Loki blinked in surprise as Emmie's green eyes filled with tears.

Agent Hill took a few more steps into the room, the door swinging shut behind her as her eyes examined the girl on the bed. "Remember me?" she asked softly.

Emmie's dark heart filled with hate, but she wasn't sure if it was for her mother. She didn't speak. She found that there was a lump in her throat, though she wasn't sure why. Of course she remembered this woman. She was her mother. But Emmie couldn't remember this woman raising her before that day at SHIELD headquarters. She couldn't remember ever feeling love for this woman. But she did remember the events since the Tesseract. She remembered the way she had tried to wrap her in a hug nearly a year ago. She remembered the tears on this woman's face, and the desperate words of pleading that escaped her lips. And she also remembered the overwhelming urges that overtook her, and the anger and hatred that made her lash out violently. The woman hadn't been scared or angry all those months ago. And she didn't appear to be scared or angry now. Emmie felt her hands shake more violently, wishing she had something in them to take her inner turmoil out on. She forced herself to turn away, choosing to look at the blank wall rather than the agent. She felt something drip onto her hand. It took her a moment to realize that it was a tear. Lifting her hands to her cheeks, she was surprised to find that she was crying. She frowned at the realization. How dare this woman make her cry. She hadn't realized that the tears were even there.

Agent Hill drew even closer, looking anxiously at Emmie. Was she really crying? Or was this one of her acts? The mother was saddened to realize that she could no longer tell if her daughter was acting or not. When Emmie was younger, before the whole Tesseract fiasco, she could always tell when her daughter was pretending to show emotion or if she really was being honest with her feelings. Now… She couldn't tell. The thought made her purse her lips tighter.

Emmie could sense the woman drawing closer, and felt her sit on the very end of the bed, as far as she could be from the teenager while still sitting on the bed. Emmie slid to the opposite end and leaned against the wall, still not meeting her mother's eyes as she angrily wiped the traitorous tears from her cheeks, the only trace of emotion in the girl.

There was a long moment of silence as it seemed that the two women simply were waiting each other out, testing the other's resilience. The agent broke first.

"Director Fury said he didn't want me to come see you. He said I'd fall for your tricks or try to convince you of your previous identity," she said softly.

Emmie smiled wryly. "And you're not going to try to convince me of my previous identity?"

"No. I already know it doesn't get through to you," Agent Hill answered flatly.

"At least you finally learned that."

"Yeah."

Silence. Emmie carefully considered her mother's words.

"So you don't think I am who I was before? You finally figured it out that no amount of pleading and tears and telling me stories about when I was younger is going to work?" Emmie asked scornfully.

"Yes, I've figured it out," Agent Hill whispered, sounding like she was holding back tears.

Emmie forced herself to turn away again, feeling torn. She was feeling an overwhelming urge to hurt something. But she couldn't decide if her mother was the one she wanted to hurt. This was why she hadn't wanted to see her. She had known this would happen. Her mother confused her. She made her want to scream in frustration because no matter what Emmie did, her mother never gave her the same angry mistrustful looks other people did. Emmie wanted to be feared. Her mother didn't fear her. Emmie wanted to trick people into thinking she was innocent, only to have those beliefs ripped away as she pulled a knife or gun or baking sheet on them with a twisted grin. She enjoyed the disturbed look people got when she switched from angelic to demonic. Her mother was never surprised or disturbed. Just… sad. And Emmie couldn't be happy when she made people sad. She could be happy when she made people mad or scared. But not sad. It wasn't nearly as enjoyable. So she hated seeing her mother.

"So why are you here?" Emmie asked coldly. "If you don't think you can get me back to good, then what are you doing here?"

"Maybe I've accepted that you're not the person you used to be, Emmie, but you're still my daughter," Agent Hill whispered.

"I am not your daughter!" Emmie shouted suddenly, whipping to look at the older Maria Hill.

She frowned, sadness in her eyes that made Emmie only angrier. "Then am I not your mother?" she asked quietly.

Emmie glared at her hatefully. This woman was the only one that she even hesitated to hurt. Why? Perhaps just because of the honesty she showed her. But Emmie refused to show weakness to anyone. Not even the woman who had given birth to her, and had had faith in her until now. It almost hurt Emmie to think that the person who had been so earnest now admitted to having no hope for her. "You're not," Emmie said in a low voice.

Agent Hill glanced away from her daughter, holding back the tears that stung at her eyes. What had happened to the girl she had once known? What had happened to her Emmie? The girl that had always wanted to be a scientist, who loved reading historical romances and drinking hot chocolate, who had crawled into bed with her on nights before she had to leave for long missions? Had that girl disappeared into oblivion? Or was she still inside this girl, somewhere, hidden? She didn't know. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know: she was afraid of the possible answer. But she knew that this girl who sat on the bed, with clenched fists, set jaw, and blazing eyes was not the girl she had once known. She wasn't sure she wanted to know this girl. She was still her daughter. She was still Emmie. Just… twisted beyond recognition. And perhaps twisted beyond what could be restored. Maria Hill hoped not. But she was beginning to lose hope that she would ever see the girl she had spent blood, sweat, and tears to raise. The agent sighed and stood, forcing herself not to tremble with grief. "I thought that was what you would say," she said quietly. "I guess I was right, huh?" She strode slowly to the door and opened it. She left the room without a backwards glance. She didn't let her heartbroken sobs escape her until the heavy metal door clicked into place and she was halfway down the hall, out of sight and earshot of the girl who had once been her daughter.

So she didn't see the anguish on her daughter's face as she watched her mother go.

And Loki had watched the entire exchange, immobile and silent, and for some odd reason, feeling like maybe he shouldn't have been watching. For some unfathomable reason, he felt pity and sympathy for the girl. He had to stop himself from crossing the room and putting a comforting arm around her shoulders as he saw the desolate girl bow her head and rest her face in her hands, trying to assuage her mental agony.

Note from LoquaciousQuibbler: Wow… you know, entering this chapter, I hadn't planned to make it so… dramatic… ah, well, the idea of non-drama went out the window about the time I decided I needed Emmie and Maria to have a scene… Hope your feels are thoroughly sore. I would apologize, but I wouldn't mean it. This kind of gives Loki an excuse to feel some kind of sympathy for Emmie now, anyway. By the way, as I delve more and more into Emmie's psyche, I'm finding her emotions harder and harder to describe… I know what I mean, but I know that Emmie's mind and emotions are a mess… if you have any questions or clarifications you'd like to make, feel free to ask (or criticize if I did a sucky job… which wouldn't be all that surprising with how complicated this little murderess is). Also, I think you should know that Loki and Emmie's ship name, at this point, has been dubbed Emoki by me. Ship Emoki? Don't ship it? You decide. But the ship sails on.

Anywho. I'll stop now. This is what happens when you write an author's note while half-asleep, half-distractedly batting at mosquitos… darn you, mosquitos. Please favorite, follow, and review this story, or I welcome private messages.