Disclaimer: I have no affiliations with Marvel other than I'm a fan with a penchant for writing.

Chapter Eleven

When Loki was a boy and learning magic under the tutelage of Frigga, he had come to love the sudden surge of power that flowed through his veins every time he used it. Frigga had said that Loki was gifted, meant for the magic as it was meant for him. The magic consumed him, he craved its touch, and when it began to dwindle and fade into a darker oblivion than the void in space he had once fallen into Loki never thought he'd feel that surge again. He was left to believe that he would never know another love like magic. No kiss would ever leave him as satisfied as the kiss of a spell.

No kiss had left him unnerved like the magic of Hayden that coursed through him. And what powerful magic she was. Frigga had often warned Loki that the darker magics could consume him, leaving him its victim rather than it's master. Out of all the magic he had tasted Hayden was the most dangerous of them all.

He had coveted the surge of power that Hayden had given him that flowed through his blood every time she placed her pretty, soft lips upon his. It had eaten him alive, before his eyes, that he had chosen the magic of her over the magic that he had been gifted with.

And what had that left him with? Powerless on a forbidden journey to take down a secret society trapped in a room that smelled like perfumed flowers. A journey that he had intended to have finished long ago only to find himself stuck on Midgard with a rejection in the form of a wolf's tooth that dangled from his hand.

Loki sat on the windowsill, clutching the necklace he had given Hayden and shoved it into his pocket. He stared at the empty vial on the floor, wondering when its effects would kick in. It had been almost half an hour since he foolishly drank its contents with the promise that if he were to drink it that it would help his current predicament. That was what Loki got for trusting an amores. He really should have known better, they were after all minions to another god, they did not serve him, nor did they intend to.

He had to get out of the room. Why hadn't Stark or Astrid come searching for him yet? He knew that they had most likely left him behind, but it didn't set well that it had actually happened. After all, if Loki hadn't told Stark about Black Knight and Hayden's mother then he wouldn't have even known. Of course the egocentric jester would have wanted to play hero. It wouldn't have surprised Loki if Tony's intentions had been to ditch Loki the second he could once he found out that Loki was completely without power.

There was too much for Loki to do that he could not afford the wasted time. Perhaps he should call on Heimdall to take him home. Then he could consort with Thor and his adopted brother would once again save the day. It had seemed that Loki was never meant to be the hero.

He swung his long legs to the floor, standing tall as he walked away from the window. He bent down to reach for the vial, deciding to take it back with him to Asgard. Frigga would be able to tell him what magics he had consumed and the effects that were supposed to take place.

Loki's fingers brushed against the glass, a shooting pain shot through his head. He collapsed to his knees, slamming hard against the ground. His hands wrapped around his head as he cried out feeling his body consumed in flames. The heat grew around him, boiling his blood within. His skin remained unscathed with each violent lick that the flames aggressively struck him at him.

Images like a montage flashed through Loki's mind of a dark cave. Everything was blurred and hard to see. A man in casual armor wear from another era long ago stood before a circle of men, stabbing the sword into a slab of black stone that bleed from the wound. The goo wrapped around the sword like tar that instantly dried upon contact. He could see their lips move, but heard nothing, as the images continued to flash of different men and women throughout the ages trying to pry the sword from its tombstone.

The images reverted back to the circle of men. Their lips moved over and over and he began to recognize what it was that they were saying. It was his name: Loki.

The flames around him instantly died. Loki collapsed forward, slamming his palms hard against the rough carpet. He breathed in and out in deep, heavy intakes, feeling the flames still twist and turn inside, smothering his chest with black smoke. Swallowing hard, he pulled himself to his feet, crashing into the bedside table.

The lamp and Hayden's book crashed to the ground near his feet. Sweat slicked along his face as Loki stumbled toward the window, placing his hands against the cool glass. He could hear footsteps rush toward the room, stopping just at the door as Loki spun around, smirking at the wide eyed gaze from the amores.

"I cannot say that I have enjoyed my stay," he told them, flames burst into each of his palms from his open hands, his fingers curled as he cradled to the fire. "Though, I appreciate the hospitality and the beverages have been rather divine," he coolly said, staring the old man directly in the eye.

Before either of them could try to stop him Loki turned sharply on his heels. He held his arms forward, tossing the flames at the window. The glass shattered, exploding out into the streets below. The fire licked at the panels, the paint curled at the heat instantly blackened from the kiss of the flames. He stepped through the burning archway, dropping with ease onto the ground, using the flames to soften the blow of his landing.

Loki stood tall, glancing over his shoulder at the burning building. He smirked as he took off into the empty backstreets putting as much distance between himself and the amores. If he ever came across this Roman God, Amore he was going to rip out the man's heart and feed it to him. It was no wonder his servants decided to join a crusade of revenge toward the gods, obviously the man was an idiot to begin with for using the fae to do his bidding.

And to think that he was about to call to Heimdall for help. What a disaster that mistake would have been. Loki continued forward, rushing around a corner and slammed hard against non other than Tony Stark himself.

"Did you do that?" he demanded, pointing at the building consumed in flames.

Loki was far from the playful mood to amuse himself with allowing Tony to think he could demand answers from a god. Loki answered on his own terms, not when a pompous Midgardian cried out for them. There was only one way to solve such an annoying problem.

Loki held out his hands with such force that Tony would be nothing more than ash within moments. He would sweep them up, place them in an urn, and after his business on Midgard was finished Loki would return to Asgard to drink in victory. Then when he was good and plastered he would use the urn as a chamber pot.

The thought was fleeting and far from a reality that Loki would live in. Nothing happened. Tony stood before him, unscathed, staring at Loki's open palms with his thick brows high into his hair. Again, Loki thrust his arms forward. Again, nothing had happened.

Loki pulled his hands back, staring at the empty palms with a deep frown. "It seemed the old man was not one for jesting when he said the effects would not last long."

"What are you talking about?"

Loki barely gave Tony a first glance, let alone a second one as he beckoned for the Midgardian fool to follow him. They twisted around the back of the bed and breakfast to where Tony's car remained park. Astrid stood with her hands on her hips, her lips pulled tightly together. Loki bounded his sight from her to the driver, who held his gun out, pointing it at Loki.

"There will be no need for that," he told the driver, twisting the man's arm behind him and shoved him hard into the car, pressing hard onto the man's wrist so that the mortal weapon dropped to the ground. Loki gathered it, handing it back to the driver with a slick smile as the man rubbed at his wrist, glaring hard as he snatched it out of Loki's hand.

Loki opened the door, allowing Astrid to sit inside first, sliding after as Tony closed the door behind him. "The question better asked than how I escaped is why it took you so long to come look for me?"

Tony furrowed his brows, the wrinkles in his forehead deepened like the crevasses of a man-made canyon. "Why would I come looking for you? You were gone maybe ten minutes. Ten minutes too long, if you ask me, but not long enough that anyone should care to look for you." Tony cocked his head, curling his lips into a half-smile, "Would anyone care to look for you though?"

Loki ignored the Man of Iron's final words. After all, they meant little to him. How the blundering idiot was considered a hero when Loki would never be even after he would soon save their petty little world was beyond him. It was no wonder the masses on Midgard had advanced so little in such an amount of time. They were all fools it seemed.

"What do you mean only ten minutes of time has passed?" It had felt like hours, almost an entire day. Loki peered around, staring through the tinted windows at the blue sky, frowning at the time distortion. "Damn those faeries," he muttered under his breath, curling his fingers into a fist.

"Wha-"

"Forget I have said anything," Loki hissed. There was only so much Tony needed to know. "Though it would be for the best if we left as soon as possible."

"Yeah, no kidding." Tony glanced at the fire behind them, sirens wailed in the distance as he nodded to his driver to take off. "I happen to disagree with your stand on the important questions. If you have no powers then how the hell did that happen?"

"I had some inside help, do not concern yourself with it," Loki told him deciding that he offered enough information to the insufferable Midgardian. The man asked more questions than Hayden did. At least he could distract himself with staring at the curves of her breast that poked from underneath her old woman blouses. Tony wasn't as near appealing.

"Of course you did," Tony muttered, pulling out his cellphone and rapidly moved his thumbs across the bright screen. "Anyways," continued Stark without looking up from his phone, "did your One Ring to Rule Them All recharge yet? Because we're gonna need you to disguise yourself if I'm going to sneak you into customs."

Loki glanced down at his hand, the stone was now a creamy white just as the day that Frigga had given it to him. The vial proved useful after all. It not only helped him escape but he was able to use transformation spells again. His need for Stark was growing limited by the minute. Loki smirked, slowly lifting his stare to meet Tony's.

"I won't be going with," he informed both Stark and Astrid. "Plans have once again changed."

Tony frowned, pulling out a bottle of dark, brow liquid that he pouted smoothly into a glass previously filled with ice. Loki glanced around the back of the car, slightly baffled at where the refreshment had come from. Taking a small sip of his drink, he leaned back into the leather away, and sighed, "plans seem to always change with you. What do you have to do this time? Stop at the mall for gel for your hair? Maybe make a detour to Hot Topic and set that on fire after? Or, did you-"

"Plans have changed because the circumstances and the knowledge I now contain in pertinence to the situation at hand has changed." His tone was flat, and there was a hint of annoyance that lingered in the air. "I know what Black Knight is searching for." Tony fell silent. Good, Loki smirked, it was about time he had shut up. "I do not know what it has to do with Hayden's father but I know have a vague idea of where to find it and I am going to retrieve it while you intervene with Black Knight to keep him from killing Hayden's mother."

"Whoa there John Wayne, hold your horses," Tony scoffed, holding up his hand to cut off Loki. Loki's gaze slowly fell to the man's manicured nails, thinking of different weapons to take Serah's fingers off with. "This is one horse that won't drink," he affirmed, nodding to himself as he took a hearty gulp from his beverage, the ice clanked against the glass. "I'm not a gopher and I'm definitely not here to play chauffeur for you. What is it that Black Knight wants?"

"A sword."

"A sword?" repeated Stark. Loki resisted the urge to snap at him. He hated it when people repeated his response as a question as if they had not heard or understood him. He could not be any clearer. "And, why is Black Knight looking for a sword?"

"I-I do not know," Loki admitted.

"Okay," Tony folded his arms across his chest, the reactor core beneath his thin shirt glowed a pale blue against the hairs on his arm. "Where is the sword?"

"Do I appear to be a psychic?" snapped Loki. He had long grown tired of this game of questions.

"No," smiled Tony, slowly at first then all at once showing off a ceaspool filled with a set of straight, white teeth. "But, we do have one," he winked at Astrid, who had dutifully remained quiet as the car turned onto a bumpy dirt road.

"Yes," Loki carefully responded, surprised that he had completely forgotten about Astrid in that moment, "though, her powers are not up to par for a searching. But, I know of someone who can assist me."

"I can do this," Astrid piqued, her cheeks suddenly red. "I came along to help."

"In which you mean to say that you have someone to assist us," corrected Tony, circling his finger at the three of them.

"No, I mean me." It would be a day trapped in hell when Loki would ever refer to himself as a member of Tony Stark's team. "You still need to keep Hayden's mother safe."

"I've already arranged for that to be taken care of," Tony informed him.

There was something to be said of Tony Stark and his dramatics. He was man passionate toward the art of showmanship, the star of his own world where Midgard was nothing more than his theater and the people on it his adoring crowd of fans. On cue, a jet passed over at an accelerated speed, a familiar eagle head and wings logo was painted onto the side.

"I thought that we could fly in style," smiled Tony, patting Loki's shoulder with more force than was needed. "After all, plans change."

"You have impeccable taste," Loki said through gritted teeth deciding that he wouldn't even bother putting the man's ashes into an urn after all.

The young woman's typically pallid face was flushed a deep shade of crimson. Her clover green eyes were like lilypads lost at the bottom of a river. The shape of her pretty pink lips changed rapidly as they progressively quivered with each passing syllable. She was a pretty little thing, like a child's doll, so fragile and easy to break.

Black Knight tilted his head, craning his neck as he watched the distorted image along the citadel wall. He was set to leave for America, to search for Dr. Waltham. When he was summoned before the Council of Twelve to stare at a recording of a pretty girl. The trail had been growing cold, he had no time to waste.

"Do you know who this woman is?" asked the leader that the Dark Knighthood called, Valor, walking up from behind Black Knight with hands folded neatly behind his back.

"Should I?" Black Knight wondered aloud, returning his gaze from Valor's face hidden from the shadows of his hood onto the girl.

"Hayden Waltham, daughter of Connor and Carol Waltham." Black Knight turned at the name. "A bit of a mythology expert, I've heard," remarked Valor, as though it was impressive.

"We take her hostage?" guessed Black Knight. Her background in mythology meant little to him. Only Connor knew the location of the Ebony Blade. His daughter pertained to little if nothing more than leverage.

"No," Valor softly replied, "she will lead us to the Ebony Blade."

Black Knight turned sharply. After all the work that he had done, the months of searching for Connor, tearing apart cities for signs of the Ebony Blade. The Dark Knighthood caught one whiff of a rumor that a young female with the same last name as the good doctor was his daughter and suddenly all their planning and hard work was tossed out the window. Did they intend for him to follow her around?

He was not a messanger for their means. The Dark Knighthood might have summoned him but he was there of his own will. What a twist of events to learn that his time had been wasted. It was just as well, he supposed, considering he had intended to take the blade himself when it was found. The sword belonged to him, it was his birthright. The Dark Knighthood would never lay their fingers upon his most treasured family heirloom. Their blood would be the first to wet the tip.

He decided that he would save Valor for last as the old man spoke about her connections to S.H.I.E.L.D. and the information they could learn from her now that they could watch her. Dark Knight turned to his own thoughts, the process of how The Dark Knighthood had come to spy on the woman meant little to him. How dare this puny, decaying, old man that smelled like rotting wood treat a knight in blood in such a manner. To play off his poweress as though he were rusted metal to melt down into a useless blade. He would not be tossed aside.

"Her mother will be held hostage," Valor finally replied, "and should Dr. Connor Waltham still kindly refuse the location of Ebony Blade then we shall kindly kill his wife." Beneath the metal dark as the empty pit in his chest, Black Knight allowed himself a small smile.

Her fingers drummed against the arm of the leather sofa. Skye had thought long and hard about what she was about to do. She wasn't exactly teetering on the edge of a decision before though. In fact, Skye had completely decided against the idea of going to Miles for help, after all, whatever he had to offer that couldn't be discussed over Skype was obviously bad news.

She had gotten in enough trouble dealing with Miles and the Rising Sun before. She didn't need that anymore. Especially after realizing that S.H.I.E.L.D was right to keep people in the dark. If the every day citizen really knew what was going on, if the people knew the chaos the world was really in, well, war would be inevitable. Panic would take hold of the masses making them easy target to any alien god, warlord or purple monster eater that wanted to pluck the earthlings off.

The Rising Sun was risking that terror by hacking into illegal databases and stealing information to publish on blogs, free for the people to use. Knowledge is power and power could be a terrible thing for those not ready to use it. Miles had good hearted intentions, but in this case, they were set on the wrong thing. It was a life Skye no longer was a part of, and no longer wanted to be.

That was until Coulson and Agent May showed up with faces grimmer than a reapers. They sat Skye, Fitz and Jemma down to shovel them into a deep hole of information. Tony Stark was with none other than Loki, a Norse God of legend that happened to do about a bazillion dollars worth of damage and killed a good chunk of Manhattan off within the span of a couple of hours, shopping time spent at the mall with your girlfriends at most. Not only would they be boarding the jet but they also had a woman who claimed to be a seer with them.

As if that wasn't enough to stomach it seemed that the attack on the beach where Ward and Hayden were ambushed was worse than what they believed. They had lost contact with either of them and Coulson had said the woman they were with that betrayed them was missing as well. Without a doubt Skye knew that the woman was the ex-agent that Hayden wanted Skye to gather intel on. Information that she could not find but that Miles had.

Skye swallowed hard, clicking the green call button on her laptop. The screen connected, turning black as a small white dial rolled continuously while the call loaded. She could feel her stomach twist in unison with the spinning wheel until Miles's half-cocked smile greeted her. Everything stopped, then came crashing down at once.

Was she actually ready for this? Could she do this? Hayden and Ward's lives were on the line. Did she really even have a choice? The Rising Sun members and Miles had always been such big part of her life but the last few months traveling as a consultant with S.H.I.E.L.D had been an experience Skye never thought she would have. All her life she had been alone, an orphan, surrounded by people who were there with her, but never really there for her. Being scolded at least once a day by either Coulson or May (some days from both), and getting to know Hayden and Jemma like the best friends every girl should have, and learning how to shoot and aim a gun properly with Ward, and staying up late with Fitz to play video games when they had to be up early in Yukon the next morning had been everything she had been looking for. Of course she had no choice.

Skye flashed a pretty smile. "I'll meet you. But I won't be in the states for a few days."

Miles nodded, as if he already knew that she would agree. "Listen to you," he chuckled, leaning forward and balancing his chin on top of his clasped hands. "The states," he mocked with an innocent smile, "you're quiet the jetsetter, aren't you?" Skye remained impassive, she was in no mood to play games with him. Miles overly pouted, his bottom lip hung low. "Come on, babe, you're so serious now. Is that an agent requirement?"

She ignored the babe comment, swallowing the sting that needles through her throat. "I'm not an agent. I'm a consultant," she corrected, "and yeah, Miles, I've been to a lot of places lately."

"I'm sure your secrets are to die for," he carefully replied, his brown eyes flashing. "I'll see you in a few days. Don't bother contacting me. You'll know when to meet."

Before Skye could ask any questions the screen went blank. She slammed her computer shut, flopping into the couch and screaming into a sofa cushion. This was not what she wanted to be doing, trapped in Miles's mind games, playing against her will. At least this time she was a step ahead, this time she knew what she was stepping into. Still, the thought didn't settle well and she could feel her stomach turn like the little, white pinwheel, spinning and spinning and spinning and-

"Did you know," spoke a meek, male voice, "that screaming into a pillow doesn't exactly soften the scream much?"

Skye carefully pulled the plush pillow down just underneath her eyes. Jemma and Fitz stood in front of her, both wearing similar smiles of languid amusement. She could feel her face flush hot as she tossed the pillow at Jemma who caught it in the stomach with a sudden oomph.

"Hey," she cried, tossing the pillow back at Skye. "I didn't say anything."

Skye blocked her face, squealing as it landed against her thigh. "Terrible aim," she teased, hugging the pillow to her chest.

"I've never been good at tossing things," Jemma defended, her curly ponytail bounced up and down the collar of her button down top with each violent bob of her head as she explained, "I'm not exactly having to toss things around in the lab, which I might add I spend a good chunk of my time in, and if I did toss something it could be very dangerous."

Fitz gravely nodded. "Once Jemma tossed her keys to an assistant and knocked over a bottle of Dutanium Pyrate and it shattered all over the assistant turning his skin scaley and blue."

Skye's mouth dropped wide open in a choked laugh as her eyes slid to a bright red Jemma. "Get out," she chuckled, "did that seriously happen?"

"It went away," Jemma crossed her arms, shooting Fitz a fiery look. "And, his skin only changes when the temperature is below forty-five degrees. He lives along the equator, so he's fine."

"Yeah, after he had to uproot his life and move somewhere warm," snorted Fitz.

Jemma rolled her eyes as she waved her hands in the air, plopping onto the sofa next to Skye. "Anyways," she sighed, shooting a deadly look at Fitz. He pursed his thin lips together, straightening his gangly body as he quickly looked away, his pale cheeks speckled a dark pink. Satisfied, Jemma continued, "is everything okay? You've been sort of quiet today."

"I'm just worried," Skye truthfully answered, "there's a lot to take in today."

"I know what you mean," Jemma moaned, leaning back into the sofa.

Fitz nodded, his dirty blond curls bounced enthusiastically along. "Coulson has had us on Tony Stark duty all day long. Did you know that Jemma and I graduated three years early from the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy of Science and Technolgy and we've been making coffee to make sure it's to Mr. Stark's liking for when he gets here."

Jemma leaned into Skye, whispering low, "he takes his coffee with bourbon," she quickly pulled away, licking his lips and pursing them tight as she nodded at Skye with raised brows.

Skye twisted her lips up. "Tony Stark can't get his own coffee?"

"I can actually, but why do it when you can have others do it for you?" Skye and Jemma both looked up, Fitz spun on his heel, stumbling out of the way as Tony Stark walked through the entrance with Coulson and May at his side. He flashed an even smile, an exact copy of every photo she had seen of him in magazines and on billboards. "You must be Little Orphan Annie. I've heard a lot about you." Skye flushed, biting hard on the inside of her cheek. "It takes a certain skill to be able to hack into S.H.I.E.L.D's database."

"More than once," piqued Jemma with a proud grin.

Tony glanced to Coulson who quickly looked away. He whipped his head back to Skye wearing an impressed grin. "Really? Have you considered a job change? I could-"

"Stark," frowned Coulson, "you're not here to recruit my employees."

"She's a consultant," corrected Tony, "as far as I'm concerned that's free game."

"Uh, hello," waved Skye, "I'm literally right here. No need to talk about me like I'm cattle."

"You're definitely not a cow," winked Tony.

"Is Loki here?" Fitz suddenly asked, the air in the room suddenly heavy. His cheeks speckled red. "I mean...he is here, isn't he?"

"Do not feel compelled to bring out the welcome wagon," came a smooth voice. Coulson, May and Tony parted faster than the red sea as a tall, thin man with dark, wavy hair slicked back strolled into the room.

Skye clambered up the sofa, putting as much distance between herself and the deranged madman. "What is he doing just walking around freely?" She pointed a shaking finger at Loki. "Why isn't he in the cell on the lower level?"

"It's been proven more than once that I am no man that belongs behind a prison," he smirked, his lips thin like a snake's.

Skye gave Hayden a lot of credit for being one of the smartest people she knew but whatever it was that she saw in Loki, whatever redeeming quality she found in the mass murderer, Skye would never understand; Hayden would be forever an idiot in Skye's mind where Loki was concerned. The rules of Vegas did not apply to Asgard. Especially when what happened in Asgard didn't stay in Asgard and came slithering back instead.

"He is here to help Hayden," Coulson said through gritted teeth. "If so much as one toe slips out of line he will be sent back to Asgard."

"Does Fury know he is here?" she squawked. This was not okay. Skye was already uncomfortable at the idea of being on the same jet as Loki, but to know he had free reign was completely unsettling. "I highly doubt he would approve this."

"Director," emphasized May with a hard stare, though for all Skye knew that was her permanent look, "Fury trusts Agent Coulson, as should you."

Skye folded her arms. "I don't work for Coulson," she retorted, dropping his title of agent. "I'm just a consultant, remember?"

"Ooh," mocked Loki, pursing his lips together in a tight smile. "It seems this will be much more amusing than I had intentionally assumed."

Skye felt her face tense. "I won't be on this jet as long as he is here." Skye tossed her finger accusingly at Loki. "He killed people." She swung her finger to Coulson. "He killed you, for crying out loud."

Loki looked Coulson up and down, pulling his lips down. "He seems quiet the opposite of dead. Have you dallied in the arts of necromancy as of late?"

"The second we land in New York I'm out of this until he's gone," she firmly assisted, folding her arms across her chest.

"I can assist in speeding the process of our not being in the same are by tossing you out a window if it would suit you," Loki sincerely told her.

Skye slanted her gaze, peering at Loki with her nose curled up. Tony stepped forward, holding his arms out toward the two of them. "Listen, Frosty, if anyone is going out a window it would be you. Be grateful for the free ride instead of being shackled and sent back to be babysat in Asgard. At least here, I'm a fun babysitter." He clapped his hands together pointing at Fitz. "Uh, Jimmy Neutron."

Fitz jumped at Tony acknowledging him. "Me?" Tony nodded, rising his brows high. "Leo Fitz, sir."

"Yes, yes," Tony impatiently replied, "coffee, just the way I like it."

"And, you said we wouldn't be catering," teased Jemma, glancing up at Skye who was still standing behind the couch, her gaze firmly planted on Loki.

"Now, now, good times aside," Tony wagged his finger disapprovingly at Skye and Jemma, "our dear friend Hayden seems to have a connection to Black Knight."

"What?" cried out Skye and Jemma in unison.

"Seems Daddy Waltham caught his interest," informed Tony, his tone somber despite the lightness it held moments ago. "Has Hayden told you guys about a sword-"

"The Ebony Blade?" Tony's gaze fell onto Jemma. She shifted under his scrutinizing stare, glancing up at Skye who nodded encouragingly. The faster they assisted Stark the quicker he and Loki would get off the jet and far away from Skye. "It's a cursed blade that only those with the purest intentions can use. Anyone who uses the blade and is not rightfully destined to use it is triggers a curse that is different for each user. It's power, according to Hayden, is equal to that of Thor's hammer."

"The only weapon equal to strength as Thor's hammer is a sword called, Grasscutter. No blade made in Midgard could match its strength," Loki spat, his face twisted in disgust at the offense that a blade used by mortals was just as strong as an Asgardian weapon.

"I'm just repeating what Hayden has said," Jemma defended holding her hands up in front of her chest. "It's what we've been searching for while she and Grant went to Tønsberg."

"What leads do you have?" inquired Tony, "oh no," he put his hands in front of him as Fitz attempted to hand him a steaming mug pointing at the coffee table in front of the couch, "I don't like when people hand me things, just set it over there."

"O-okay," Fitz replied, doing as he was told with a knotted forehead.

"We know it's in England," Coulson informed him, folding his arms against his chest. "That's all the leads we have."

"That's more than enough," Loki muttered, turning sharply on his heel.

"W-where is he going?" Skye's mind instantly reeled to Loki killing the pilot and flying the jet into the ground.

"To see a seer," Tony vaguely answered, turning to follow after Loki, with Coulson and May close behind.

"He didnt even drink his coffee," deflated Fitz, picking up the steaming mug with a frown.

Skye shook her head, flabbergasted at what had just happened. "If we find that blade and stab Loki with it, do you think the triggered curse would be worth it to kill him?"

No one ever warns you about the crushing pain that fills your entire head, pressing in between your eyes that it feels like your entire face is about to explode when you wake up after passing out. My waking was slow. My brain worked overtime to get me to rise, though it was as if my body chose to wake in sections instead.

The light was far too bright, washing over me with such a sudden embrace that my eyes closed shut the moment the light peeked through the blanket of lashes. My body was huddled together. At first I thought I was curled in bed in a fetal position but as my mind began to register that I was alive, I realized instead that I was being carried.

I knew without having to open my eyes that it was Ward who was carrying me. The smell of seawater, blood and sweat filled my nose that nuzzled against his drying chest. His breathing was hard, and I could feel the tension in his muscles stretching thin as he gripped onto me despite the bullet hole in his shoulder that probably caused him a lot of pain.

I vaguely was aware of him talking. The words were distant, like my head had been dunked underwater and everything he said was garbled. The vibrations from his chest everyone he spoke thrummed against my cheek. I pressed my face deeper into his chest, deciding it was time I faced the harsh light.

Blinking, I forced my heavy lids open, ignoring the way that my body screamed at me to remain still. I saw the sky first, it was dark and overcast, filled with the flames and ashes from the explosion on the beach, the scent of smoke still lingered in the air. Ward stared straight ahead, his dark eyes unreadable, his lips in a straight line. He felt me shift in his arms, his gaze instantly on mine.

"Waltham," he sighed in relief, gently setting me into a sitting position on the curb of the street. So, I noted, we were back to last name basis. "How do you feel?"

"Like I'm going to cough up chunks of my lung for the rest of my life," I croaked, pressing my hand hard against my chest, clearing out the tar-like residue that clung to in the back of my throat. "What happened?" I asked, looking around despite the pinch in my neck. "Where's Freya?"

Ward frowned. Or, at least I think he did. It was hard to tell sometimes. He folded his arms across his chest and rubbed his jaw with dirty fingers. He was frowning, I finally decided.

"Bailey managed to escape." He made a hissing sound that sounded like the muttering of a curse. His hand raked through his matted hair, as he knelt down and grabbed my arm. "We need to get to the Aaby's," he told me as he began to slowly unwrap a piece of dirty cloth that had been hastily tied around a gaping wound caused by the burning chunk of metal that had struck it from the explosion. "It'll be somewhere that we can call Agent Coulson and get some backup."

I nodded, suddenly dizzy. Ward grabbed onto me to keep me from falling over. I weakly smiled my gratitude to him and he simply nodded. He scooped me up into his arms, causing me to shriek in surprise.

"We'll get there faster if I carry you," he explained, shifting me in his hold, "and you need medical attention before that wound goes septic."

"Me?" I gasped, casting my eyes to his bandaged gunshot wound. "What about you?"

"I'll be fine," he grunted, and I knew that it would be pointless to argue. "Jemma will be able to look at it and she'll-" Ward gently set me onto my feet, wrapping one of his arms around me for support. "Hayden, wait here."

"No way," I shook my head, squinting ahead to see if I could see what had spooked him. "I'm going with." Ward didn't bother trying to stop me. "What is it?" I asked too soon.

We rounded a corner and there in the distance was the quaint bed and breakfast engulfed in a fiery inferno. I gasped, pushing myself away from Ward as I stepped forward. Firefighters worked to put out the flames while Mrs. Aaby cried into Mr. Aaby's arms across the street.

I ran to them as fast as my body would let me, reaching the elderly couple just as the flames began to die down. Mr. Aaby saw me first, his pale blue eyes widened upon recognition. He unwrapped his arms from his wife, holding one hand around her frail shoulder.

"Hayden, Grant," he grimly greeted.

"What happened?" I asked, reaching out to touch Mrs. Aaby's hand. She squeezed my fingers in return, releasing them to turn and cry into her husband's arms once more. He patted her small back tenderly, shaking his head sadly as he explained that a gas leak had been the culprit. "At least you both are safe," I sincerely smiled, believing that silverlinings could be found anywhere. They could have been caught in the explosion.

"Yes," Mr. Aaby agreed, "it would have been a tragedy." He glanced to me, then to Ward, deepening his frown. "Have the effects of the love spell worn off already?"

"Oh, dear," sobbed Mrs. Aaby, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. She looked over her shoulder, shrugging, "that would be my fault. Miscalculations in the ingredients, the effects most likely wore off by early morning."

Ward and I glanced at one another. The kiss only recently happened. If Ward wasn't under the effects of the love potion when we kissed then we wouldn't have to worry about any serious ramifications. None, however, that resulted from the spell. The approach we would take at a later time would be repercussions we'd have to deal with of our own accord.

Now was not the time to talk about love spells and spur of the moment kisses. No matter how exhilarating they felt. There were other, less trivial matters at hand, more important than my frivolous mess of a love life. Matters like the possibility that the Aaby's gas leak hadn't been an accident at all. The explosion could have been triggered by the same people who attacked Ward and I on the beach.

"Anyways, if you two are in need of a room, as you can see," he gestured toward the smouldering establishment, crinkling his nose at the smell of smoke that filled the air, "though, it looks like you two were in some trouble of your own."

Ward and I briefly explained what had happened, keeping most of the details vague. They may not have been normal citizens of Midgard but they still didn't need to know everything. Neither of them pressed matters, and instead offered us a room at a friend's country house.

As kind as it was for them to ask we turned them down. Ward insisted that what we needed was a phone. I had to agree. While a warm shower and bed sounded fantastic at the moment I could wait until I was in the safety of the jet far away from Freya and whoever it was that she worked with.

We bid the Aaby's goodbye, wishing them luck with the fire, and made our way to the nearest payphone. Ward got through to Agent May, who was more tight-lipped than he was. All she had told him was they would pick us up soon. I didn't think she was going to be so literal about how soon.

A giant black jet with a pale blue eagle head painted onto the side flew overhead. We followed after into a demolished parking lot, greeted by the cargo hatch opening. Eagerly, I ran toward the jet, past Coulson's classic cars that he carried everywhere with him but never took outside the cargo hold, and into the front entrance where Coulson and Agent May stood with their hands behind their backs.

"You look like you could use a shower and about ten years worth of degreaser," smirked Coulson, welcoming us inside.

He gently placed his hand on my shoulder steering me toward my room while Agent May led Ward to his. I glanced behind my shoulder, surprised to see Ward looking over his own, grimacing as our eyes met. Pursing my lips tightly together I looked forward, realizing that Coulson had been talking the entire time.

"...so they'll be back later this evening." I blinked, absolutely clueless as to what he was saying but too embarrassed to ask him to repeat himself. So instead I wearily nodded, forcing a smile as he opened the door to my room. "Don't feel obligated to report tonight. Recooperate, relax, there will be time for tomorrow."

"Thank you," I whispered, actually grateful that I could take the time to unwind. Which meant passing out in my bed the moment I was done with a shower. And that was if I didn't fall asleep while I was showering.

Coulson said his goodbyes, leaving me to strip my dirty, ratted clothes. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, hardly recognizing the girl beneath all the sand and sweat and blood that was caked onto my face. I twisted my body to the side, carefully undoing Ward's handy work, wincing in pain every time my finger brushed against the outside of the wound.

It hadn't festered, which I had taken as a good sign. Still, perhaps it was for the best if I went to see Jemma after my shower. She would be able to tell me right away if it would be alright, though I suspected no matter what it was going to leave an ugly scar. Frowning, I turned on the faucet, splashing cold water onto my arm, hissing as the liquid ran along the burn mark, stinging upon contact.

Swallowing hard I forced myself to pour a little bit of peroxide onto it before hoping into the shower. The bubbles tingled my skin, creating a pool of white, foamy bubbles around the burn mark. It was one of those satisfying pains, like when your muscles ached the day after an intense workout. Grimacing at my doctoring, I turned to the shower, pulling the faucet so that the bath water sprinkled from the showerhead, splashing onto the floor at my bare feet. Scrambling into the shower, I closed the plain, white curtain and dunked my head under the water.

All the dirt and grime that collected in my hair that ran down my back turned the liquid that pooled at my feet black. My nose scrunched at the sight of my toes poking out from the cloudy water that filled the basin. It took four loofah scrubs and a third of shampoo in water that had felt as cold as the rivers that ran off melted glaciers before I felt mildly clean.

After drying my hair and dressing in a plain, teal cami and striped pajama bottoms my mother gave me two Christmases ago I took another look at myself in the mirror. The dirt no longer looked plastered onto my body despite still feeling it deep inside the pores on my face. I would definitely need another shower in the morning but sleep sounded much more appealing. First thing first, I needed to see Jemma, and then maybe a stop in the kitchen to ransack Coulson's hidden jello stash.

A/N: Thank you guys for all the lovely feedback, especially because of my earlier frustrations. The problem wasn't quantity of reviews, I understand a lot of people of are lurkers, I tend to lurk myself, it was the content that had gotten to me. But, I feel a little better, rant was done and over and to receive such heartfelt concerns that I was going to stop were actually really sweet. No, I don't plan to stop. Trust me, I love Hayden and Loki just as much as you do, so I have no intentions of just stopping their story. I have lots more planned for these two. Hopefully you guys won't hate me! Haha so much (good and bad, cause I'm a glutton for punishment) to come. Anyways, thank you all for being so kind and understanding about my vexations and I hope you enjoyed the meaty chapter. It was definitely a big one! Typically my chapters run about 4,500-5,500 words and this one topped over 7,000. I actually even had to split it up, it was so large, so technically I have half of the next chapter finished. That means a closer update in the future. Things are about to get really complicated for everyone so chapters this big might pop up every so often. (:

Reviews:

Belker: Thank you! I wish they'd give him something to! I mean, at least something to give him just a tiny bit of emotion. He likes a robot. A really hot robot. Lol

I admit, it sort of gets confusing, and I tend to forget things. With my original work I don't tend to worry about plot holes because I go back and reread my what I've written and double check to see if I've left out important information or I've forgotten something that was driving the plot forward but drop it half off. But with fanfiction because I write as I go (and, sadly I have no computer so I'm typing all of this on my phone) I can't go back and make sure plot holes are fixed because the previous chapters are already updated and published. Also, I have a bad habit of coming up with ideas as I go and writing them in. So, for you to say I can do it means a lot because I feel like it's a jumbled mess. I'm glad it isn't!

Miko Fyra: I'm happy to know you're enjoying it! And thank you, I know I probably shouldn't have been upset as I was, but everyone's understanding and kindness has really made me feel better. And thank you! I hope you enjoy When They Fall, Fandral is such a fun character to write. And you'll love Vic's story. It's seriously amazing (:

Fluffycharmander: oh wow, thank you, really. I hope to one day be published, and I write because I want to give people the same experience I get from reading a really good book. That high where you can't put it down because you have to find out what happens next, or that gasp that you can't control because something completely unexpected happen. I am a book need to the core, they're so magical to me, and I want to bring that magic to others. So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you because that is one of the highest compliments I can receive about my writing. (:

Sadako-xD: Oh, you should not feel embarrassed at all. First of all, it's wonderful that you're picking up another languages at all, so many Americans (myself included) don't know any other languages (though I know a little bit of French from High School). And, second of all, you're English is completely fine to me. I wouldn't have known if you didn't say anything. In fact, your English is better than 70% of the status updates from people on my Facebook.

Thank you so much. I had mentioned above that that is the greatest compliment I feel I can receive as a writer. I love making people feel the way I do when I read an awesome book so it makes me all warm & fuzzy to know that people feel that way about my writing. So again, thank you!

Don't get me wrong, obviously I love Hayden and Loki together as well haha and it takes so much self-control not to write in scenes and just be like, "and then they kissed" but as you said, there is a story and development and pushing the together right now wouldn't end happily for them, not if I want to keep this realistic (to a point lol).

I'm very pleased to see all the Hayden love as well. The fact that people want her to have her happy ending let's me know that I've created a an OC that might actually stand a chance with the God of Mischief ;)

NightRaver: You know, I completely understand, I really do. I'm a fan too, I read and watch things where I want two characters to be together that it pains me when they're not. I don't know how many times I've wanted to just scream, "oh my god just kiss her already!" So, I understand everyones frustrations, I really do. But, I never took to social media to tell the writer about how much I want them to get together and ignored everything else about the plot. I understand that people need to (and should) grow themselves before they can grow with someone else. Hayden and Loki are no exception. haha but yes, I agree with that philosophy!

Grant is a favorite of mine on the show, and I've enjoyed writing him. The next chapter will revel Bailey info so no spoilers ;) I admit, I'm even a little behind on the show, but from what I've seen recently it has improved a lot since it first started to air. My goal here is to keep the characters cannon and explain enough in this story that people won't need to watch AoS to understand what is going on. Basically I liked the characters and wanted them in my story, that's as far as the association to the show goes lol

And don't feel sorry! I love talking with you guys! Thanks for the review (:

Ashmigoo90: Haha why thank you! And, since I've gotten my thoughts out on the subject I feel much more in control again. You guys have definitely picked up my spirits, thanks!

Xeczion: After taking some time away and all the kind encouragement I've been getting I feel much better about the story. And, yes, the trials and tribulations make the reward that much sweeter in the end (:

Fantasy Panda: I think since I've brought up the concerning issue it'll die down a bit, which makes me feel a little more in control of the story again. Thank you. Oh, the research I've done is immense. I came in knowing basic Norse Mythology knowledge and now I'm like a little Sherlock Holmes with it. And, no worries, it wasn't so much the quantity of reviews but quality. So, thank you for your comment! I am glad you're enjoying the story.

SnapeFanatic1: I completely understand where everyone was coming from. I'm a fan too, so I understand the agonizing feelings of an OTP being so close but so far at the same time and just wanting them to kiss every time they're in the same room together! Haha yes I know the pain.

I've actually been discussing with Vicvic221 about making this series a trilogy. So, no spoilers ;) I hope this meaty chapter was worth the wait! Thank you (:

Marie Allen: Nope, unfortunately, still lots to come on that end before the declarations of love can happen.

JenJen018: Thank you, I appreciate it! And my sentiments exactly. I read fluff stories, and one-shots, but can't for the life of me write them. I need a plot and story and characterization lol

vicvic221: I know, shame on you. Gosh. It's like what, you actually have a life or something. How dare you.

I know I've said it before, but I really appreciate it. I'm very humbled by all the understanding, and I'm glad people have received it well. I totally understand impatience of wanting characters together, I do. I'm pretty certain every time Emma and Hook from Once Upon a Time are on screen I'm internally screaming for them to kiss and then when they don't I start internally crying. But, I don't go to twitter, and tell the writers that the plot basically doesn't matter and all I want is for them is to kiss and be happily ever after right now. The show would get boring fast if all it did was fancater and drop the plot. Like, Emma needs a lot of growth as a character (really fucked up love life and childhood) before she can willing accept to love someone, and that's before she'll accept that she actually deserves to be love. I love that show. Wait, where was I? Oh, yeah, Hayden and Loki :p

Anyways, you know you're always welcome to questions and spoilers and whatever else your heart desires in regards to this story. Even if you don't want it you still get them. (:

PeaceisGood: Thank you so much. And, yes, very messy indeed. I admit, they're my favorite storylines to write haha yes, I love Rumbelle! Tragic love stories are amazing, but it's watching them to get to the point where they can be happily ever after that I love the most. Loki and Hayden have a lot of growth to get there, Loki moreso, but they're on their way. It was more just build up of frustration. I'm fairly thick-skinned when it comes to my writing, I can take criticism when needed, but it wasn't criticism I was receiving, and definitely wasn't constructive, it was just whining and I had to nip it in the bud. But, thank you, really, I love to know that people are enjoying the story. Haha and yes, I couldn't keep Coulson dead.