YOU GUYS! I feel so blessed for the reviews and ppl being so interested in this. It's everything you can ask for when writing a story of any kind that people should feel so compelled by it that they put a lot of thought into it, trying to figure out what's gonna happen #FEELS

I got a really nice review by a guess, CS. I wish you could have left an e-mail address or something. I try to answer every review, but I can't answer guest reviews. I'd love to hear more of your opinions. Maybe you can be my beta reader… hopefully you are reading this lol! If not, I'm making a fool of myself. You pointed out I made some mistakes/typos *blushes* ^/^ hope they were not too distracting, you guys. I did write to two betas, but they never answered back. Anyway, write if you are interested.

So anyway! Enjoy!

Chapter 11

It was like that odd void one feels when inside an elevator that descends too fast. Darcy struggled to keep it under control, not let it escalate into sickness. The helicarrier was losing altitude, and fast.

She clawed at the bolts around the border of the door. She punched the glass until her skin became numb. Not like this, she didn't want to die crushed to death trapped inside a glass cage. She wanted to come home and hug her mother; even the thought of losing her memory once more was more appealing at the moment. She could deal with the possibility… death, it was final.

"It is of no use," Loki said. Once Darcy took a glimpse of his face, of that smug expression, she grunted, and went to bang on the glass again.

She stopped, eventually; her heart pounded so hard, she could feel her head throb with the same rhythm. Her fists unclenched against the glass, and she pressed her open palms to it as she collapsed to her knees. "I don't want to die here. Please, don't let me die," she whispered to no one, but Loki answered anyway.

"You live on borrowed time, mortal. Your life was to end that day. Be grateful that, this time, what awaits you is a quick and painless death."

"Why did you save me then?!" Darcy shouted. She willed herself to calm down, inhaling a shaky breath. It became eerily quiet every time they stopped talking or, in her case, thrashing and raging. She wanted to stop this silence, it was oppressing and, along with the fall, it was like a deadly trap, one that had no timer, but would trigger without notice.

A growl travelled through the walls. It was clear enough to make her skin crawl. She confused the discomfort for a mere chill, as it originated in her tail bone - her rear being in contact with the harsh metal -, and it travelled upwards, caressing her spine, making her lift her shoulders until they touched her ears as she suppressed a violent tremor. It felt as if a needle made out of ice was being buried into her flesh, piercing her from end to end. Then it was hot, hot like she was in flames. She raised her arms, gazing at the skin. She sniffed, see if she could smell the burning flesh.

Loki stood up when he saw her clawing at the skin of her own arms, brushing them with force as if trying to get rid of unseen dirt. Her mind, to his touch, seemed blank, but also unleashed, like if something primitive had taken over, a simple desire to be made free.

It would pass, he knew. Next time it would last longer, and it would be worse. And, each time, it would stir her insides until she would lose her mind completely.

The door to the hall was opened, and a single soldier entered. Loki nodded to him, and the man obeyed, opening the door to the cage. "Take her," ordered the god.

The soldier slid one hand under Darcy's shoulder, picking her up. She was rigid, but pliant.

Loki stepped outside, and waited for the right moment. The soldier stood by his side, waiting for orders.

Darcy felt her eyelids close, heavy with exhaustion; she blinked, feeling a sting as if the insides were covered in sandpaper. She gazed at Loki's back, at his hands clasped together across his lower back. She tilted her head, and almost gave a yelp of surprise at seeing another Loki standing by the cage door. "What-?"

"Shhh," said Loki, tilting his head, and raising his index finger to his lips. He was smiling again.

It wouldn't take longer for a shout to be heard coming from the hall. Thor came sprinting inside the cage at the sight of his brother standing by the open door. He had meant to stop him, as the hero he was, but it was a trick. Thor ran through the illusion of the second Loki, making it vanish in a curtain of golden dust. The soldier closed the door again, and Thor was trapped inside, looking bewildered and so confused.

"And this is the future king of the gods," Loki mocked him. "How many more times are you to be fooled by the same trick?"

Darcy saw, but didn't move, as Loki approached the control panel. There was no hesitation in his actions as he opened the gate below the cage. Once more, winds rushed upwards, tossing her hair, bringing a certain kind of air that was light and cold, hard to breathe in.

"What do you think?" Loki asked, his gaze never leaving Thor. "Should we ask her? What say you?" he addressed Darcy. "Are you in the mood for revenge? This fall won't hurt him as bad as it would hurt you, but, I believe, it would have to suffice for now."

Thor hit the glass with his hammer, making it crackle. The fissure was a sign of hope for Darcy, who let out a nervous laugh. This didn't please the God of Lies, no; in fact, he couldn't be angrier at her for not finding pleasure in punishing the one responsible for her wounds. He hadn't been sure before, but now, he felt a mix of rage and prepotency building inside him; he was making them both pay; Thor for being a fool, and her for being so blind.

"I believe the lady has spoken," Loki said, "and I agree. This fall won't kill you, but it will slow you down. Always a pleasure not to see your face… even if for a little while longer." Loki pushed the red button, and the cage was released from its hinges with a screech, falling, and sucking the air out with it. It happened so quickly, she barely blinked to see it gone.

Darcy felt the change of pressure wanting to pull her, swallow her into the hole. She ran to the edge, leaning her head to catch a brief glimpse of the pod flipping in the air, before the own course of the boat left it behind, out of her sight.

Then the gate was closed, and the room was covered in darkness. Everything fell silent, again.

"Are you crazy?" Darcy asked him, violently gesturing to the space where the cage was minutes ago. "You just fucking dropped your brother from the sky!"

"I see it will take longer than I expected for you to grasp the concept of us being gods," Loki said, glaring at her. "Your philanthropy is becoming quite a nuisance to deal with." He spoke again with that sneer, his lips pursing and his nose wrinkling with every word he uttered. "In case it escaped you, it was him who almost ended your life," he sounded angrier as he continued, "and I was the one who saved you."

"Oh, my God!" Darcy couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had to either laugh or cry, so she chose the former. "It was an accident! Have you ever heard of those?"

"Well, then," he was almost growling, "I see that erases all wrong. After I am done conquering this world, I shall claim it all an accident."

Darcy was on verge of losing her sanity. That had to be the explanation why, in response to the exchange, she started to howl with laughter. She had tears in her eyes, and had a hand around her belly. This confused Loki, whose tension quickly vanished, being replaced with a slight scowl.

A thud interrupted them. Darcy turned around to see the previous soldier knocked out cold on the floor.

"Miss Lewis," said the man responsible for the attack. He stood by the fainted soldier. He looked very bland and average, but his voice was too casual for someone who was about to stand up to a god. "Why don't you step away from the edge? I see you don't recognize me. I'm agent Coulson. We already met back in New Mexico."

The reason why Darcy didn't move was because agent Coulson was holding a huge weapon. He was directing the barrel end to Loki, nonetheless, but it looked like it held enough firepower to blow up the entire room.

"We will see that Loki is captured for what he did to you," said Coulson, slowly walking to her, the gun always pointed at Loki. "And you will have immunity. You'll return to your old life. I'll even buy you a new iPod, how does that sound?"

"He lies," Loki said, looking at her. "They plan to toss you in a cell, but, first… they will strip you of your freedom and dignity, they will study you like an animal." Coulson gestured with the gun to make him shut up. "They can get quite imaginative when it comes to torture."

"I thought you said freedom was too much for us humans to handle," Darcy snapped at him, yet she inched away from the approaching agent.

"Yes," Loki admitted, looking down, his shoulder slumping a little. She felt an urge to comfort him. "But I guarantee you safety." He raised his hand for her to take, palm up, long fingers slightly bent, beckoning her to accept. "No harm shall come to you, as long as you stay by my side."

Darcy's mouth hung open for the longest minute, not entirely sure what he meant by that last statement.

"Okay. Time's up, kids," Coulson interrupted the long silence. He was already standing next to Darcy. "Miss Lewis will come with me. We are walking out of here. Unharmed."

Something bad was going to happen, Darcy felt it in the air, felt the static that accompanied his magic. She noticed the change in Loki's countenance: his face twisting in anger, the fingers of his raised hand curling into a fist. She barely had time to mouth a "no", when Loki teleported in front of Coulson, and stabbed him in the chest with the staff. Darcy saw the blade coming out of the other side, covered in blood.

"What did you do?" she asked him. She was serene with the shock; she was very aware that Coulson had been deadly injured, yet she could not quite grasp the fact that Loki had stabbed someone in her presence.

He ever so slowly detracted the blade out Coulson's body, inch by painful inch, but managed to show enough mercy to grab him by the shirt to stop him from falling into the hole. "Your last words shall be a message to your director," he angrily whispered to Coulson, while holding him by the shirt, raising him several inches off the ground. "I will be prepared for his heroes. Tell them to come, for my army will obliterate them." With that, he let Coulson fall to the floor with a loud thud.

The agent could barely breathe, but he was still alive. Darcy kept the hope that he would survive. It was a clean cut. She quickly got to her knees, and put pressure to the wound, feeling the warmth of the blood spread through her fingers. With the commotion of all past events still present in her mind, she let herself cry properly for the first time. It started as a chocked sob, but it quickly escalated into a loud wailing, her shoulders trembling as she breathed in, her nose running and her eyes red with the salt.

Somehow, crying would calm her anxiety, would turn the pain into a dull ache, bearable enough to swallow it. It was a therapy of some sorts.

"We must go," said Loki, who had been quiet the whole time, watching her cry.

"I'm not going anywhere," Darcy protested between hiccups. She cleaned her nose with the side of her wrist, and smeared some blood on her cheek.

"You obstinate girl," Loki snarled, clutching her upper arm to make her stand. He put a hand on the back of her head, cradling it with care, having her look at him. "He shall live," he whispered.

Darcy blinked away the tears. Numbness overcame her again; it was the dullness after crying, she imagined. She felt too sedated, his limbs and brain falling into a lethargic wakefulness. She let herself be led outside, to the very surface. Loki guided her, one hand on her waist, the other holding up the staff covered in blood.

By the time the plane took off, rising from the helicarrier, Darcy had managed to fight off the remainders of Loki's spell. The bittersweet taste of deception hung in the back of her throat, impossible to swallow.

Making it canon... but I did try my best not to hurt Coulson D': My heart is crying...

R&R, lasses and lads... R&R.