Through the Glass
Seventeen days.
It had been seventeen days since Agent Romanoff's last visit, and Loki had spent every single one writhing in a constant state of mingled rage and paranoia.
It simply made no sense. He was the god between the two of them; she should not be able to manipulate him as she had done. Somehow she had forced him to show weakness, to show her more explicitly what lay buried within his soul than any words could have conveyed, all by stopping his silver tongue in mid-wag. Twice.
To make matters worse, it seemed that every time he attempted to do the same, to cut his way beneath her pale flesh, to throw sand and salt in her wounds, he was unsuccessful. She'd given him those crystal tears he so loved to see, this was true, but he didn't trust her enough not to question whether it was all part of some grand, elaborate act. It was entirely possible that all of her emotional reactions, even the way she lashed out at him when he stroked the wrong nerve, were nothing more than carefully plucked strings, single notes in a long symphony designed to break him down for...for what, exactly?
The agent had asked the most pertinent questions he could imagine in terms of what was to be done about Thanos: what, how, when. His clueless answers, useless as they were, were honest. It may have been foolish of him to bargain with an entity about whom he knew so little, but he had what Thanos wanted, and Thanos was able to give him things he greatly desired in return. Up until the part where he failed miserably it had seemed like a fair exchange.
Agent Romanoff knew all of these things, or had at least deduced them by now, so, Loki wondered, why did she continue to attempt to crack him?
"Rise and shine, Sleepyhead."
Her sarcastic voice curled through the air, a familiar length of red satin ribbon sliding through his ears, binding his agitated thoughts. Loki sat bolt upright on his cot and swung his legs over the edge, his hands gripping the metal frame. Immediately his eyes alighted on the familiar sight of the agent, that insufferable spark of superiority burning in her pale jade eyes, her elegant flame-colored curls falling loosely about her rounded shoulders, alabaster neck exposed above the collar of her...
Loki tilted his head to the side slightly, a wry smirk pulling the corners of his lips upward. "Agent," he stated delicately. "To what do I owe this overdue and...surprisingly casual visit?" His gaze lowered, briefly inspecting the washed-out dark red v-neck t-shirt she wore, coupled with a pair of noticeably tight black skinny jeans. It was only the second time he had ever seen her outside of her suit, and he couldn't help but remark to himself that it was at once both an odd and oddly pleasing sight.
Agent Romanoff, for her part, seemed not to begrudge him his curiosity as he looked her over. She allowed him a few moments before she, not without some amusement, said, "We're going on a field trip."
Loki's eyes snapped onto hers. "You'll have to pardon me. I am not familiar with the phrase," he said carefully. He didn't like admitting when something was unfamiliar to him, but it wasn't as though he placed any value in Midgardian slang.
The agent allowed a measured smirk to cross her lips. "It means I'm taking you for a walk. Go stand by the door," she instructed him.
Loki's eyes narrowed, his expression brimming with curiosity. It seemed he never knew what she was going to do next. He wasn't hesitant to comply, however, and quickly rose to his feet, coming to a halt just a couple of feet behind the door. A few seconds went by before the portal began to move inward, issuing a slight hiss at the change in air pressure between the cell and the corridor beyond. Agent Romanoff stood outside the threshold. Her eyes met his, and she beckoned him forward with one finger.
His feet automatically carried him toward her.
"Close enough," she said serenely, stopping him after only a few steps. "Hands out," she instructed, and once again he obeyed.
He still made no move to hide the arrogant smirk that crossed his lips. "Your director truly believes that your primitive restraints will—"
Something clapped over his wrists, and all at once he suddenly felt as though he might fall through the metal floor. An odd, horrible sensation overtook him. It was as though his life, his very essence were being sucked out of him through a straw. His features distorted in panic and discomfort as he stood rooted to the spot, his eyes burning with betrayal as he stared back at Agent Romanoff's placid, smiling face.
As quickly as it had begun the sensation faded away, leaving him feeling weak and heavy. Loki looked down at what she had closed over his arms for the first time and saw a pair of shackles, although they were clearly not of Earth. The metal appeared at once both gold and silver. It was highly reflective and almost seemed to shimmer. Three thick bands braided through one another, and each was etched with a set of complicated runes which he immediately recognized. The cuffs were connected by a deceptively thin but extraordinarily strong chain about a foot in length.
"So," he said, his voice at once amused and hateful, "my brother has brought me a gift."
The agent's lips curled upward into a smile that said she was clearly enjoying this. "You can thank him yourself in a few minutes," she returned before she unceremoniously grasped the chain binding his wrists and dragged him forward a few steps. She let go then, leaving him to follow her as he would, and it was with grudging steps and an overwhelming desire to break her tiny fingers that he allowed her to lead him away from his cell.
Natasha pulled open one of the ground level doors leading into Stark Tower, stepping to the side and smirking slightly as Loki walked past her wearing a glare to end all glares. He never asked where they were going throughout the brief and, thanks to her driving, quite terrifying car ride, so she hadn't felt the need to warn him that his big day out was going to be spent in the company of superheroes. It hadn't necessarily been her first choice either, but it was the only condition under which she was able to convince Fury to let her take him out of his cage. Even then it had been a four hour uphill battle that involved citing specific recorded incidents between the two of them, the laying of elaborate security measures, a phone call to a reluctant and frantic Tony (which admittedly didn't help the case much), and another phone call to Jane Foster and, through her, Thor (which would have been much more hilarious under different circumstances), but eventually she managed to get Fury to come around.
Apparently a little fresh air would probably go a long way in getting Loki to cooperate with them, the fact that he had nothing with which to cooperate notwithstanding.
At any rate, Natasha followed Loki into the building's lobby and was immediately greeted by a thunderous roar of, "Brother!" and the sight of Thor wrapping his tree-trunk sized arms around Loki's torso. The slimmer god was lifted clean off the floor by his larger sibling, and Natasha couldn't help but smile at the heartwarming reunion she was witnessing.
"Put. Me. Down!" Loki hissed, although the hushed tone of voice seemed to be due more to lack of oxygen than even Thor's exuberant show of affection.
"I am sorry," the huge man chuckled as he set his brother on the floor once more, although even then both of his hands came upward to hold his shoulders out at arms' length. "How do you fare? Have they treated you poorly?" he inquired seriously.
Loki huffed as he stared at Thor in irritation and then somewhat venomously replied, "I can hardly complain. It isn't as though I've been imprisoned all this time."
Thor seemed taken aback by his brother's words, so Natasha stepped up to the pair of them and informed him, "He gets a bed and three square meals a day. Privileges when he plays nice."
This pleased the god enough to bring back his bright smile. "That is generous," he said with an approving nod in Natasha's direction. "You must come, Loki. The others await your arrival."
"The others?" Loki hissed, and this time the tone had nothing to do with lack of oxygen.
"You didn't think Thor was the only one excited to see you, did you?" Natasha smiled before she jerked her chin in Thor's direction, the large man already leading the way over to the elevator. It was only then, as she watched him go for a moment, that she realized he was wearing "Midgardian" clothes. Must have come from Jane's, she thought absently, following after Loki when he'd finished glaring at her and begun walking.
A couple of minutes later the three of them stepped out onto one of Tony's personal floors situated above the business section of the building. It was, for all intents and purposes, a recreational room. The floor was completely open, void of walls or doors save for one, adorned with a cheeky unisex bathroom sign, set into the side of the room. A hundred-and-two inch flat screen television was mounted on one wall, surrounded by one of Tony's favorite tan, suede semi-circular couches. A sound system sat in one corner of the room, a full bar occupied the wall opposite the television, an air hockey table sat nearer the center of the room, and a handful of old arcade games were set up closer to the large, floor-to-ceiling windows.
Tony and Bruce, who were engaged in what looked like a very competitive air hockey tournament, looked up at the sound of people entering the room. Steve's attention remained on the television as he was incredibly engrossed in some kind of movie. When Natasha looked over to see what it was, she almost laughed out loud. Someone had set the Captain down to watch Predator. Clint was absent; he was still on assignment, she hadn't even checked to find out where.
"So," Tony began, dropping his paddle as he began sauntering over to the newly arrived trio, "these handcuff things take away his magic?"
Natasha nodded beside Loki.
"And they suppress his god strength, turn him into a delicate little flower just like the rest of us?"
"That is correct," Thor answered, a mild note of confusion in his tone at the metaphor.
Tony, however, was all smiles at that response. "Well, then," he said, and not a moment later he drew his fist back and crashed his knuckles straight into Loki's jaw. Loki stumbled backward a couple of steps, his expression utterly shocked that such a blow could possibly cause him any amount of pain, and Tony stood shaking out his hand. "That felt good," he commented, his wide grin returning.
"Stark," Thor said threateningly, a dark look coming over him as he stepped protectively in front of his brother.
Tony brushed him off at that point and turned to walk back to the air hockey table. "He deserved it," he said, nonchalantly albeit a bit coldly, before he took up his paddle again. "You cheat, Doc?"
Natasha didn't have the opportunity to hear Bruce's response. She'd taken a couple of steps forward, intending to plant herself beside Steve, but a hand seized her roughly by the upper arm. Her brows furrowed and she turned, finding herself, unsurprisingly, face to face with Loki. "What is the meaning of this? Why have you brought me here?" he demanded in a hushed, threatening tone.
One of Natasha's red eyebrows slid upward. "Can't keep you all to myself, can I?" she answered, a bit cryptically. Truth be told, she wasn't entirely sure why she wanted to bring Loki around the rest of the team. It seemed like a good idea, and her instincts were the only things she truly trusted.
Loki's eyes narrowed at her and he glanced around at Tony. "You can, and you should have," he said tersely.
"You starting to warm up to me?" she shot back before she could help herself. She kept a small, somewhat cunning smile on her face even as Loki's eyes widened in what looked like disbelief. Carefully Natasha stepped away from him, and at the move he seemed to regain his composure. His lips pressed together in a hard line, his eyes turned carefully blank and his fingers uncurled from her arm.
She turned her back on him quickly and made for the couch, doing her best to repress the shiver that ran up her spine. That was the first time they had ever touched one another.
Natasha sank down onto the couch beside Steve who looked over at her for the first time since Tony's assault a minute prior. "Thor said you told him to tell us Loki was coming to visit. What's going on?" he asked her, a confused look in his eyes as they darted back and forth between her and the action movie he was trying not to miss.
She could only grin for a moment at his efforts before she explained, "Immersion therapy. Get Loki out a little, get him around people, see if he cooperates. We have a rapport but I wasn't getting anywhere from outside his cell."
"Seems a little unorthodox," he told her apprehensively.
"You're a super soldier watching sci-fi movies in the multi-million dollar corporate headquarters-slash-personal residence of one of the richest men in the world in the company of a genetically altered super spy, a modern re-imagining of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and a Norse god. It's not that unorthodox."
Steve regarded her for a long moment, but once the weight of her statement dawned on him he smiled and had to laugh a bit. "I suppose you're right," he conceded, turning his full attention back to the movie.
Natasha let her own eyes wander to the screen, not feeling the need to supervise Loki very much since he could, now at least, be easily subdued by more than half the people in the room. Besides, she had the feeling that Thor wouldn't let him out of his sight. No matter what Loki did, no matter what his parentage, Thor considered him his brother and was obviously thrilled to have him back. A few minutes went by before she chanced a glance over her shoulder, and just as she'd expected she spotted the two of them sitting down a little ways away, their heads together in some kind of private discussion.
She turned her eyes back to the movie, but it seemed that no sooner had the brothers' conversation ended, some twenty minutes or so after she'd checked, Loki appeared in her peripheral vision. Natasha's eyes slid over to him and she watched as he carefully lowered himself onto the couch beside her, just enough room between them that neither would need to worry about accidentally bumping the other. His apprehensive gaze met hers, and she let the corner of her lips curl upward.