A/N And now a little drop by the villains, because it's needed. The start of this chapter is all the way back after the Avengers rescued Cas and Dean, but over the course of the chapter, everything's brought back up to the present.
Thanks to Basia Orci, mudkipz, Cynder713, elmoisemo6, Mirabilem Electo, uniqueKATYgleek, and BakerTennant'sTardis
Disclaimer I don't own the Avengers/Doctor Who/Supernatural/Sherlock or any associated characters, events, etc.
CHAPTER XIII. Twisted
Lucifer was pacing. Not in a thoughtful way, but rather a frustrated, aggressive one, practically kicking the floor with each step, his teeth clenched tight together and his eyes shining dark and furious. The other three watched him warily, standing near the walls of the room—Moriarty, small and sleek as always, Loki, looking paler than he had since they'd first brought him back from Asgard, and the Master.
The Time Lord's new form was even blonder than the last one, his ragged, chin-length hair the color of pale straw. His face was gaunter, his figure taller and thinner, but in a powerful sort of way. Stubble ran along his long jaw, and his eyes shone ice-cold, paler blue even than Loki's. From the best the rest of them could tell, this new regeneration of his was much more aloof and cool-tempered than the previous one—rather than laughing at the thought of destruction, he'd simply pull his thin lips into an eerie smile, something hinting at darker workings inside his head. For the most part, he seemed entirely unrecognizable. An advantage to the four of them, but Lucifer's mind wasn't very focused on advantages at the moment.
"That damned alien," he kept snarling, every few seconds, the words often coupled with a furious glare in the Master's direction. "A time machine, a time machine, and with such clean transport…"
"The Master did warn you, you know," Moriarty commented. Rather than being tense like the rest of them, the extra chaos seemed to induce a twisted sort of glee inside of his shriveled heart. "He told us all about the TARDIS… just staying in the room with them would have been a sufficient precaution."
"Silence, human!" Lucifer's form seemed to flash, moving swifter than a bolt of lightning, and then he had Moriarty up against the wall, his heavy hand barring the smaller man's throat, his face contorted into a mask of fury. "I am an angel, you insignificant being; you have no right to speak to me like your equal!"
Moriarty tipped his head back, knocking it against the wall, and inhaled slowly, his throat straining against the Devil's grip. After a long moment, he let the air back out—but rather than speaking, he simply laughed. The sound was high-pitched, like glass shattering, and utterly insane in a way that sent static chills down Loki's spine. The Master's expression remained impassive, however, and Lucifer grew even more livid.
"You dare to laugh at me? I could smite you into ash without even applying any effort—"
"But you wouldn't do that," the psychopath drawled lazily, his voice distorted through Lucifer's hold on his neck. "You'd never do it, because you need me… you all need me," he emphasized, his dark eyes swerving to take in the Master and Loki. "You may be superhuman, but it's my ideas… my mind… that will help you through this. You know that, don't you?"
"And what have you provided so far that's brilliant enough to get us out of this?" the Master pointed out, his new voice low and rugged, slightly Welsh-sounding. "Best I can see, you're more extra luggage than anything else."
Loki's eyebrows flew together, and he took a quick step closer to the Master, speaking swiftly in his ear. "Don't be a fool—he's your friend, he—"
"I don't have friends," the Time Lord growled back, glaring down at the dark-haired Frost Giant as though he was an infernal nuisance rather than a legendary god. "I've changed, Loki, it's about time you've realized it."
"You are rather useless yourself, aren't you, Laufeyson?" Lucifer murmured almost thoughtlessly, slowly oscillating his head around to stare at him. "Perhaps the Master and I would have been better off if we'd never brought either of you back… maybe we still can get rid of you, operate on our own…"
"No—no, you can't," Loki objected, fear suddenly vivid in his light irises as he stepped away from the fallen angel, took a quick step back and shook his head quickly. "I know the Avengers better than any of you, you won't be able to reach them without me…"
"We don't even care about your Avengers." Lucifer finally released his clutch on Moriarty, who relaxed with a lazy sigh and slumped against the wall, a poisonous grin touching his lips as his eyelids drooped half-shut. The Devil's expression, however, remained as intense as ever as he slowly approached Loki, his hands balled into loose fists at his sides. "We're only after them in the first place because we agreed to ally with you, and why? We certainly didn't owe you anything. As a matter of fact, we went out of our ways to reach you… to bring you back…" He was slowly getting closer, and the Frost Giant was stumbling backwards, his eyes wide, not so much as breathing. "I don't see what you've done to repay that effort."
"Leave him alone," Moriarty finally spoke up, sounding careless. "You realize, Lucifer, that your little Dean and Castiel are now under the protection of the Avengers, along with the Master's and my boys? They're all together now. It's the stupidest time for us to split up."
Lucifer glanced over his shoulder, breathing heavily, his arm extended towards Loki, who was unmoving save the rapid flickering of his wide eyes. There was a long pause, then the angel finally let his arm drop, his lips curled back from his teeth in repulsion.
"Fine," he spat. "There's no use killing you before we've gotten rid of the rest. But after the Avengers are defeated… you'd best watch your back, Loki Laufeyson. And you as well, James Moriarty."
"I prefer Jim," the human murmured disinterestedly, glancing towards the Master, whose long arms were folded, fingers gripping his elbows. "You know," he said softly to the Time Lord, "your new form looks rather like a friend of mine, I can't quite shake it…"
The Master's features drew into a scowl, but Lucifer interrupted any potential response by striding back into the center of the room, a center point between the three others—terrified, arrogant, and aloof—his shoulders heaving with frustration and his hands still clawed at his sides.
"We need to attack them," he declared, "and the sooner, the better. They're like corpses—the longer we leave them alone, the more they'll stink."
"A respectable analogy," Moriarty chuckled.
"Not only stink," Loki spoke up, sounding almost nervous. Now that the Master had regenerated into a more psychologically strong form, the supposed god somehow found himself at the bottom of the social ladder their little group formed. "The untrained ones—the Doctor, Holmes, Castiel—they'll be able to work up their strength. There are powerful people working for SHIELD, they'll be able to—"
"That settles it, then," Lucifer interrupted fiercely. "We won't hesitate. We'll go for it now."
"Now, slow down," Moriarty began.
"Slow down?" the Devil growled. "You're telling me to slow down? And here I thought you were the insane one. All for impulsive decisions."
"You thought wrong." The dark-haired man wrinkled his nose and fingered at the edge of his suit. "I tend to use my mind… think things out. And I realize, unlike the rest of you—save perhaps Loki—that these Avengers are much more physically powerful than we are. The best thing to do is absolutely not to launch a full-on attack."
"Oh, isn't it now?" Lucifer breathed, his tone deadly. "Are you questioning my leadership?"
"I'm questioning the wisdom of your choices." Moriarty glanced over at the other three, who were now all watching him intently, waiting for his next words. His mouth curved into a shark-like grin, and he went on, his words flowing in an almost rhythmic manner. "It's simple. The Master is our greatest advantage—his transformation ensures that the darling little Avengers will have no idea how he looks, sounds, or acts. All we have to do is wait for an opening in their defenses—at some point, they'll need to let someone into their base building, whether it be an additional agent or a pizza delivery man. We hack into their security, keep tabs on who they're calling in—such a thing won't be too hard for me, rest assured."
"Their technology is remarkable," Loki began slowly.
"Trust me on this one. Now, with him planted firmly in their base, all we need to do is abduct the weaknesses of our enemies. I've done my research, know a few names—Jane Foster, Pepper Potts… those two, unfortunately, are already protected by SHIELD. Easier targets will undoubtedly be those of the newly recruited members. John Watson." He drew out the name as though it burned his tongue, and yet like he savored every instant of the pain. "Live-in assistant of Sherlock Holmes. Absolutely exposed and vulnerable at 221b Baker Street in London. And, of course, Amy and Rory Pond. You don't know them," he added in the direction of the Master, "but the Doctor does."
"How do you?" the Master asked suspiciously, his fog-colored eyes narrowing.
"Oh, it's absurdly simple. Our security cameras got a glimpse of a face inside the TARDIS that didn't match up to any of SHIELD's agents. Clearly, the Doctor. It was from then on nothing beyond the matter of running a facial scan—not unlike those used by the organization itself—to check for him in any public place in recent times. Well, he hasn't just been popping up for the last few years; more like several centuries. And with him, two others—identified easily as Amy and Rory Pond, now living on their own, also in England. Watson and the Ponds will be easy enough to fetch for ourselves. With the Master situated at SHIELD and those three in this pleasant little mansion, the Avengers will be at every disadvantage. Elementary," he finished delicately, that eerie smile seeming to stretch his features to an inhuman degree.
Lucifer frowned for a moment, as if trying to come up with a proper argument, then resigned to give a slow nod. "It seems as though it might work," he agreed grudgingly, glancing towards the Master and Loki, neither of which objected. "Fine, then." Clearly uncomfortable with not being first in command, he quickly snapped into order-giving mode, scowling at Moriarty's smirking face. "You said you could hack into SHIELD's system and let us know when they—"
"I did," the human confirmed lightly. "And so I can." Holding a hand up for silence, he reached into his front suit pocket and withdrew a sleek mobile phone, which he gave a couple of quick taps. "Looks like we have an opening just now, incidentally. Oooh, and here I thought I was being hypothetical with the concept of a pizza man…" He glanced up at the Master. "Three larges, under the name of Stark. Anyone here a good cook?"
"They're gone," Loki announced in a deadly whisper, flinging open the door. The noise echoed through the mansion's massive pool room, rebounding off the pale aquamarine surfaces and wide white walls.
Moriarty glanced up from his position, lounging in the large hot tub in the corner of the room. Foam and bubbles were accumulating around his swim trunk-wearing form, his pale fingers splayed on the tile floor. "All of them?" he questioned, the low rumble of his voice blending into the heavy purr of the pipes.
"All of them," the Frost Giant agreed, nodding hastily. He looked horribly out of place in the room, wearing a different but still stiffly pressed suit, damp strands of dark hair over his forehead indicating that he rushed to share the news. "Watson, the Ponds… all vanished, presumably SHIELD's work."
"Hm… well, that is a bit of a problem." Moriarty lifted his right hand slowly, trailing his fingertips along the floor of the room before submerging them in the warm water. "Why don't you join me? There's no reason why we shouldn't talk this out in comfort."
"I'd rather not," said Loki, a delicate sneer of distaste forming over his face. "Heat… isn't comfortable for me."
"No, I suppose it's not." Moriarty's voice was pouting, mopey. "Oh, well… I'm sure Lucifer would be keen, but he's too busy being furious at the world, isn't he?"
"I believe we all are."
"No, no, no." Pulling his hand back out of the water, he waved a dripping finger in Loki's direction. "Not angry at the world, darling, bored of it. Never make the mistake of lumping me in with all those mundane murderers… I'm far beyond that. Even if you look down on me for being human, all of you… oh, I see it… I laugh at it, though, because it's your mistake, to underestimate me…"
Loki swallowed and took a step back. The truth was that he, at least, far from underestimated Moriarty. He was well aware of who he was dealing with, didn't even try to take the top position. After all, he didn't have any desire to be violent among these people—they were his allies. The Master and Moriarty created chaos for the sake of chaos, and Lucifer's motivation would always be revenge on the brothers who betrayed him, but Loki—he was different. No one had ever turned on him. It was more the matter that none of them ever understood. He had respected Thor, Odin, Frigga—all of his family, and he still did, even as, however painfully, he acknowledged them as his enemies. No, it was only lesser creatures that he looked down on. The Frost Giants (which he had been raised to hate, after all), the humans. Oh, the humans… they were scum. Bacteria. Moriarty, however, was a specimen. He stood out from humans as much as Loki did from Frost Giants, was at an equal level with the rest of them, with Lucifer and the Master. And those three, to Loki, at least, were true allies. None of the other three saw their team quite the same way. It was a military tool for them, a shaky grouping meant for their common advantage.
And yet, Loki… Loki almost saw the other ones as friends. Therefore Moriarty, being one of them, had his respect as much as any of the rest.
"Perhaps," he suggested softly, "you shouldn't 'lump me in' with them, either."
"Oh… shouldn't I?" Moriarty gave this a moment of thought, then nodded slowly. Without speaking another word, he heaved himself out of the hot tub, stepping out onto the tile floor and reaching for the nearest fluffy white towel, which he wrapped around his waist slowly, as if contemplating each move. "Maybe I shouldn't." He straightened up and folded his arms. "In any case, dear, it's rather obvious that you're sick of the steam in here. Go contact the Master for me. Tell him that our targets are inaccessible… and that he should launch the little plan that he and I discussed earlier."
"Yes." Loki gave a quick, grateful nod, then ducked out of the room immediately, not lingering for so much as a farewell.
"Really hate the heat, do you?" Moriarty mused to the empty room, then laughed, high and fluttery. "No wonder you and Lucifer don't get along well."
The device in the Master's pocket beeped.
He swore under his breath, nearly tipping his janitor's cart over in surprise at the sudden loud noise. A passing agent frowned slightly at him, and he avoided her eyes, pushing the cleaning supplies over to the nearest door labeled as a stairwell. This disguise was certainly tedious, but, then again, they could hardly expect a pizza man to hang around forever. Still, the uniform itched like hell.
Elbowing open the door, he wheeled his cart backwards, into the cold, dingy space. Metal stairs, dirty and empty, spiraled up and down, and he found himself on a small grate of a landing, practically unlit save an amber emergency lamp attached to the wall, covered by a thin lattice of rusty bars and sending long shadows over the claustrophobic space. Leaning against the damp wall, he fished out the little communication device, shaped like a simple mobile phone but approximately fifty-seven times harder to track than any human technology, and glanced down at its screen.
Watson and Ponds already held by SHIELD, the glowing print informed him. M says to begin a previously discussed plan.
That was all there was. Presumably sent by Loki, the Master reflected, the thought almost humorous—a rare occurrence in his new regeneration's typically grim mind. Even before Lucifer came along, back when the Doctor was still in his Tenth regeneration and he, Moriarty, and Loki had their own small union, the Frost Giant always seemed pulled in to do the work that the human was too lazy for. Come to think of it, they'd both done much more for Moriarty than he'd ever done for them… perhaps something worth begrudging, but the Master liked Moriarty, admired his ruthlessness and his cleverness, and genuine appreciation of a person was something that could be hard to shake.
M says to begin a previously discussed plan…
Well, he certainly knew what that was. Previously discussed plan. The Master didn't smile, but his eyes glinted in anticipation.
He certainly wouldn't need the janitor costume any more, that was for certain. He ripped off the nametag—John Smith, a little inside joke that the Doctor would never get the chance to appreciate—and threw it to the floor, meanwhile unlooping the tie of his absurdly formal uniform and tossing it down the stairwell. It squirmed and twisted in the air like a snake, vanishing into the deep shadows before he could see it hit the ground.
A cruel smirk kinked the corner of his mouth as he turned, starting up the stairs, savoring the noisy creaks of the metal under his shoes.
This would be fun—and fun wasn't a phrase that his new regeneration used lightly.