A/N: Goodness me! What had come into my mind when I decided to watch Miss Austen's regrets? And not knowing Tom was in it? God I completely melted again. And, as you could guess, I have to recenter myself around someone less cute than John Plumptre. That is, Loki. Less cute because less innocent, but thousand times sexier. Bugger.

11. Glimpses of one past

Loki's POV

Poor Midgardians. They so believed in that heroic concept. Their whole planet was relieving on the existence of five mere humans, and my dear brother. How could that end well for them?

When I escaped that cage and sent Thor flying towards his loved grounds, I didn't intend at first to kill the man called Coulson. I really didn't. Well, first because he wasn't the threatening kind, and second because I didn't need to.

But the part of me that lusted for blood just overtook the rest, and I can still feel his warm blood on my spear and fingers.

Maybe Liana was wrong. Maybe I was lost.

I slowly got up from where I had been launched by his destructor gun, a burning hole in my stomach where my armour had melted. I passed a hand over it and the illusion made me look unwounded.

I really had to get out of there before someone took advantage of my situation.

Of course I couldn't pray for someone else than Liana to come bursting into the room, and stopping in front of the man's body. He was still breathing, and she knelt in front of his form.

"Phil? Oh my god Phil can you hear me?"

The man coughed. "Liana? Well, I can't say you were the one I hoped to die next to." He tried to chuckle but failed.

"Who did that to you?" She was pushing her hand to the wound, though it didn't help, of course. For a moment, I would have almost felt guilty about killing someone. Almost.

"Who do you think? Your horny boyfriend!"

Liana huffed. "I don't have a boyfriend, and if you're referring to Loki, I can promise you I'll kick his ass for this." She put a comforting hand on his cheek. "I will miss you, Agent Coulson."

He chuckled once again. "And I you, Agent Noname. Promise me to finally get these cards signed, eh?"

She kissed his forehead. "I swear I will."

She got up and very slowly turned on her heels towards me.

So she knew I was standing there from the beginning.

Seeing her blue eyes filled with tears made my heart sink.

I retreated in the shadows and thought about running away.

Then I remembered I had nothing to fear. I was Loki, God of Mischief and Lies, and no one could hurt me.

o°o°o°o°o°

Liana's POV

Why?

Why had he done that?

Tears began streaming down my cheeks as I hurried towards where Loki's figure had just disappeared. I knew he had been watching. And I also knew he felt bad. I could see it in eyes from the distance.

Still, why did he do it?

Who on Earth would kill Phil Coulson, the kindest S.H.I.E.L.D agent ever born?

I sniffed once or twice and wiped my tears away, before bursting into the launch hangar.

He was there, quickly pacing towards a plane, a hand on his stomach.

My heart dropped.

Loki was wounded.

I started running.

When I reached the said plane, the doors were already closing. When I got in and nearly got crashed by it, Loki turned on his heels and took a defensive posture.

I stared into his green eyes for what looked like ages.

Then I walked to him very carefully, and pulled his hand off his stomach.

There was no trace of wound, still, when I touched it, he winced. Hard. And the second time, he fell on his knees.

I fell next to him and pushed a hand to his forehead. He was boiling. "Loki! You are feverish!"

He looked into my eyes again. "Why would you care?"

I sighed and slapped him right on the face.

Surprise flashed in his eyes, and then he smirked. "That hurt."

I sadly smirked back. "You deserved it. While I'm watching over you, you'd better thing of a good excuse to kill someone as lovely as Coulson. And please remove that illusion from your wound so I can take care of it."

He looked at me, stunned, and then winced when the illusion disappeared.

Ooh. So Phil had used his toy. The destructor gun they had invented after Thor's visit on Earth. It was burning as hot as a sun, only on one point precisely.

That meant Loki's skin wasn't in a good state. At all.

When I tried to lift his tunic from it, he left himself fall on the plane's ground.

I leaned over him. "Aren't you supposed to heal faster than us?"

He winced again. "Not that fast, I'm afraid."

I smirked again and then got up to open the emergency kit.

While I was taking care of the burns, Loki gazed into my eyes more than once. But it was only when I finally finished the last bandage that he decided to speak. "I'm sorry. For the man. Coulson. I didn't intend to kill him at first."

I snapped my head to him, and I could tell he was sincere. I sighed. "I wish it was simple."

He tilted his head on one side, still lying. "You wish what was simple?"

I sighed again and came to lie next to him. My hand was inches from his, but he didn't make a move to take mine, nor did I do it for him. "Remember that night? In front of your cell?"

He turned his head to me, his eyes tearing between cold as ice and quizzical. "I remember a lot of things from that night."

I smirked. "Remember when I told you I noticed when you tried to scan my mind?" He nodded. "I want you to do it again. For a reason. I want you to scan my mind for particular memories I'd guide you towards. I want you to know why I am doing this. Partly."

His eyes just glued to mine. "You want me to enter your privacy, your personal space, to show me memories you could tell me about?"

This time, I didn't hesitate. I grabbed his hand and forcibly intertwined our fingers. "Yes."

He looked at our hands for a second, and then back on my face. "Close your eyes."

I did as he asked.

I didn't even feel it until I knew he was there.

No one could have had an aura as both dark, white and blue as him.

I sent him the first memory.

o°o°oMemory°o°o°

My first memory ever.

As I snapped my eyes open, two things struck me at once. First, I was naked. Two, there wasn't a part of my body that wasn't burning with pain. As if someone had operated me without anaesthetics.

I lifted my head and watched my hands. There weren't any scars on it, not a single wound. And the rest of my body was similarly intact.

I watched myself more closely. Where was I?

No, more important: who was I?

I searched for a tiny tip, even the tiniest. There, on my left wrist, were tattooed numbers. 894623. What did they mean?

I searched everywhere else.

And then I found it. The locked. Around my neck.

I pulled on it and examined it.

There. A writing. "To my dearest Liana."

That's it. My name's Liana.

That still didn't know where I was. And was I was still burning inside like a thousand houses.

As I got up, I quickly grabbed a sort of greenish cloak hanging on a patter, and searched the rest of the room.

I soon found a newspaper. I eagerly looked at the date. 5th May 1978.

At least I knew when I was.

I chose to end it there.

o°o°oMemory°o°o°

1986. I was pacing in London's darkest streets at night, wearing only short jeans and a tee shirt. I should have sensed it coming.

They were five. One of them had a baseball bat. Tried to knock me out with it. Except I dodged it with a reflex I didn't know I had.

They decided to get me down all at the same time.

I didn't remember it well since that moment I had to show it to him.

What it had been like.

Their screams. His screams as I tore his throat apart using his pocket knife. The other's screams as I knocked him so hard with the bat his skull was done.

The three others, when they had drown out a gun and shot me with it.

The pain, and then the light. I was alive still.

The growl as it came through me.

The blood on my hands as I ran away from the corpses, gun still firmly held in my grip.

I felt tears wetting the floor under me.

o°o°oMemory°o°o°

The first time someone had ever rejected me had been in the early nineties.

For a reason I still couldn't understand, I wasn't aging, or dying in any way possible.

After I killed those five lads, I had tried to drown myself, then to hang, even to burn me alive. But nothing worked.

That day, I was out at a cafe in Glasgow.

A little girl came to play next to my table, using two singular dolls. One was that of a man with metal claws, and the other of a woman with her body covered in what seemed like diamonds.

I glared at her. "Who are these, love?"

She had smiled to me very fondly. "They are heroes. They are mutants."

I had raised my eyebrows. "Mutant? What is that?"

"People with powers."

I had looked at my hands in wonder. "Mutants? Wow. Do you know any?"

She shook her head. "Mum doesn't want me to talk to them. They are bad. Only these two are good, because they aren't real. Mum says that a mutant tried to kill the Queen once. They are bad."

"They aren't all bad, I'm sure."

Then, a woman old enough to be her grandmother walked to the girl and pulled her in her arms. "What are you doing, Penny?"

The girl pointed at me. "She was asking me about mutants. I think she is one. She is old."

I thought about laughing at that statement, but I swallowed it back.

Around us, people had turned their heads to stare at me.

I hadn't been aware that an attempt to destroy Edinburgh had occurred on the same morning.

The cafe owner had walked to me very quickly, and had shoved me away.

"You can't stay here. Go! We don't want your kind in here!"

And I never knew how the girl had known I was a mutant.

o°o°o°o°o°

I opened my eyes on the plane's ceiling. I numbly felt another skin touching mine, and then I remembered I was still squeezing Loki's hand.

I turned my head to face him.

His green eyes were so full of suffering I loathed myself for putting that up.

But it was a needed pain.

Once he was ready, he turned his head to me. Nothing in his posture was the same as before. He wasn't the same Loki who had killed Phil without thinking. He wasn't the same Loki who had cursed Clint. He was just Loki, and he looked very vulnerable.

"You've suffered so much. You don't even know who you are." He was whispering, but his smooth voice was crystal clear to me. "You don't know who you are, and yet you are here. You are part of this Initiative, with people who will never trust you because they can't know what you've done." He lifted our hands to his chest and put my hand in both his. "And you hate yourself. For those people you killed in cold blood." A single tear appeared at the corner of his eye.

I leaned in and kissed it, tasting the salt in it. "I wanted you to see that. You and I aren't that different, Loki. And I'm still fighting for redemption."

He sat up and pulled me next to him. "I can't stop what I started. The Chintorris will come. I can't end this now."

I put my free hand on his cheek. "I know. I understood that ages ago." He seemed to be gazing into thin air. "You know, I've never really seen you."

His eyes locked back on mine. "Seen me? I am not an illusion!"

I chuckled. "You're a Frost Giant. I can guess having a skin as cold as ice isn't your only attribute."

He sighed. "You don't want to see that."

I shook my head. "I do. Please."

The cockpit door then opened and the cursed pilot turned his electric blue eyes to us. "Sir? We are in sight of the Stark tower."

I lifted my eyebrows at Loki. "Tony's tower? Well, at least I know where I'll find something to eat." I smirked though not heartily, and got up to fasten my seatbelt for landing.

Loki stared at me, and I guessed his mind was racing on whether or not he could end this war.

I know this chapter turned a little fluffier than usual, and I hope I haven't read too much OOC in it... :s

I've always seen Loki as a caring character, as long as he could see past your mind and know if you were sincere. I really am glad I know who I am and where I come from. That would be hell to live what Loki and Liana have lived.

Review please! :)