Disclaimer: I don't own The Avengers, or any of the characters used in this fic. They all belong to Marvel and their respective creators. I only own any original characters that I choose to include, as well as any original plot ideas.
Chapter 14: Between Heaven And Hell
He shifted, eye opening, found himself flat on his back, and sat up. It was a room, but not. There was no door as he ran his hands along the walls, from the top to the bottom. A table with which to stand on, but no lights on the ceiling, no light switch. No carpet on the floor beneath his feet, only hard, cold pavement.
The last thing he could recall was a flash of light, a voice ringing in his ears. He'd been fuming then, wondering how in the hell things could have gotten so bad so fast. They'd taken him out before, hadn't they? Beaten down his useless pride and dragged him back to his realm for imprisonment, punishment. And yet, he had come back, harassing them all as he wandered the city like it was his own.
He hadn't told the team that the agents of SHIELD, namely Hill, had been dispatched to the sites of the visions long before they'd been called into New York. They had found him weeks before, watching, waiting, wondering when and where and why he'd choose to play this game again. It had bothered him for all that time, his uneasiness coming out in the meeting with threats and orders.
And it made him wonder: Had he said something about the devil sooner, would he still be trapped in here? Wherever the hell "here" was.
A doorway seemed to open at the thought, in the wall opposite his position. It was not the outdoors, the cold streets of the great city, nor the long hallways of SHIELD's ground headquarters. It was not a joke, not a video projection, nor a hallucination on his part. It seemed to be the cold of space, holding him high as this little prison slid closer to a blue planet, as though he were just a kite on a string.
He flew then, body slammed against the wall as the room spun, dragging it until it slammed into the ground, the darkness of the walls, the ceiling, the floor, shattered into pieces, leaving him cold upon a snow covered ground. Lifting his head, he was stranded, nearly in the dark again. A cold sun lingered in the sky, offering up no warmth.
"I suppose I should welcome you," a voice crooned, and Fury snarled.
He hated that voice.
But there was no one with him on the desolate landscape. Just jagged rocks of ice, vague remnants of large buildings, perhaps a palace, that had once stood tall. Snow and hail fell, chilling him in less time than that of an Earthly winter.
They convened around him then, appearing out of nowhere, believably the giants that had been seen in the city, with their dark markings, blue-gray skin and bleeding red eyes. They watched him, as though he were naught but a specimen under a microscope, or a game for their own amusement. But they did not smile, did not make move to touch him, aid him, nothing. They stood still, like ice sculptures, and watched.
Fury saw him then, that ridiculous-looking reindeer helmet on his head, that damned smile on his face as he bowed, mockingly.
"What do think?" Loki paced, and Fury could feel the frost building on his brow. "Not particularly attractive creatures, but they are capable."
"Frost Giants."
Loki scowled. "You've had a history lesson from my brother, no doubt." He must have wanted the beasts to be more of a surprise. "If it helps at all, you are not on Jotunheim, Director Fury."
The darkened landscape began to warp, the giants vanishing, the gray sun replaced by a bright light that shone in Fury's face. He was no longer on the ground, but sitting up, perhaps in a chair, with his hands bound. The blur in his vision steadily wore off, the white light beginning to give him a headache as he recognized the glass cage in which he sat. It was the same cage, if not a replica, of the one on board the helicarrier.
He frowned, but his stomach dropped like a stone. An illusion.
The god pressed a hand to the glass, looking smug. He motioned to Fury, and then to himself.
"Ant. Boot."
# - # - # - #
Jane's eyes closed as the water ran down the curve of her back, shampoo streaming down the drain. As her hand closed around the tap, the other reached through the curtain, taking hold of the towel and puling it back into the shower. She toweled off quickly before wrapping it around her head, reaching back out and feeling around on the counter for her bathrobe. The curtain slid open and Jane hopped out, hurriedly pulling it around herself, turning to stare into the mirror as she took her toothbrush in her hand.
This was the morning of the eighth day since Thor had gone home to Asgard, and, aside from looking over the SHIELD files, watching YouTube videos, and talking with Darcy on the phone, she was rather bored. She did not like the cold, having come from the middle of the desert where snow rarely fell, even in the depths of winter. So she stayed inside their hotel room, keeping warm with coffee and cocoa while wrapped tight in a blanket.
But perhaps it wasn't the cold at all. Maybe she was just lonely, missing Thor.
With teeth now brushed, Jane left the bathroom, turning off the light, slipping down the hall and into her room, the suitcase laid out upon her made up bed. Jane pulled out the first shirt she saw, teal blue and striped, and a pair of jeans, her feet moving under the bed to claim her slippers. She dressed quickly, struggling to keep the towel on her head as she pulled on the shirt, finally giving in and throwing the wet thing on the floor. From the doorknob, she grabbed a light sweater, draping it over her shoulders as she reclaimed the towel, carrying it and the robe to be deposited in the laundry chute.
She shuffled out and into the kitchen, preparing the coffee maker before heading into the living room where she fell backwards onto the couch.
What was Thor doing in Asgard? What was it like? Was it beautiful like the spring photos of the English country side? Were there tall buildings, palaces, adorning the skyline? And did it possess the same beauty as the Sandia Mountains when seen from the center of Albuquerque? Would she ever get to see it, meet his family, share in the joy of his home world?
Jane's mind spun with questions, her phone vibrating on the table as Darcy's picture popped up. She reached over, sliding a finger across the screen, setting the call on speaker.
"Oh, my God, Jane!" Darcy's voice said, cutting through the silence of the room. "I thought you'd died or something!"
Normally, Jane would have smiled. But she didn't want to deal with Darcy and her over-dramatic tendencies. At least, not today.
"Why's that, Darce?"
"Uh, hello! The subway collapsed!"
Jane sighed. "I don't take the subway, Darcy. I don't even go outside. It's too cold."
Her friend made an indignant sound, and Jane could almost see her crossing her arms. "Okay, so you and your cut boyfriend are flown out to New York City by SHIELD, you meet the Avengers, andyou get to hang out with Tony fucking Stark?! Damn, Jane! You get to have all the fun, and you act like you're in prison!"
Jane shrugged, rolling over so that her back faced the table. "Yeah, maybe..."
She could hear Darcy shuffling papers, perhaps looking through a notebook, and the sound of a glass as it touched down on her friend's desk. "You okay?"
"I'm just tired," she lied. Jane had gotten a good night's sleep, aside from having stayed up until one to read through the files again and again. And the nightmare. "I'm gonna go out and get something to eat, okay? I'll call you later."
Darcy muttered a quiet, "Okay," before Jane reached over and hung up the phone.
Really, she should have been taking advantage of the situation, not lounging around a boring hotel suite with nothing to do. She needed to get out, find something to do. Maybe see if Pepper or Natasha were available for a few hours.
Pushing off the couch, Jane stood, taking the phone and tucking it into her pocket. She headed to the closet, where she had hung their coats, and, as she stared inside, hers easily dwarfed by Thor's, she missed him all over again.
"Just go have some damn fun," she told herself, tugging on her coat.
She fired off a few messages and headed back into the kitchen to fill her mug with coffee, suddenly pleased as both Natasha and Pepper said that they'd love to meet up for lunch, some sight-seeing, and even a movie. Jane smiled, remembering that, as she and Tony divided much of their time between here and Malibu, Pepper would know all the best places to eat and shop.
The clock on the wall read at about ten-thirty, and Jane took a few minutes to drink her coffee and eat a bagel before heading back into the bedroom for gloves, a hat, and a scarf, rushing into bathroom to make sure that she looked presentable.
In the wide bathroom mirror, Jane flinched, her eye immediately moving to the shower curtain. She had seen something, heard a sound. Fingers closed around the fabric of her sleeves, hugging herself as she stepped towards it, taking a trembling hand and swatting at the curtain, yanking it open. The shampoo bottle that she had left on the soap tray had toppled over.
Jane stilled her heart, laughing quietly at her own fear, though it certainly wasn't funny at all. She'd had it consistently over the past several days, often more than once in a single night. At the most ungodly hours of the morning, she would wake, draped in a cold sweat, eyes scouring the room for any trace of the nightmare. As always, there was nothing.
Nothing but the voice.
"How precious... Now, how did you come about a pretty little pet like this one? Did she just happen to follow you home one day...?"
Pet...
She brushed it off, pulled the phone from her pocket and told Pepper that she'd meet her down the street in just a few minutes.
The key in hand, Jane left the bathroom and headed for the door, stepping out and locking it, giving the handle a quick check before turning to start off down the hallway when a hand grabbed her arm.
"Hello, Jane."
She froze, eyes wide and focused upon a single point, one of the potted plants at the end of the hallway, the key card slipping out from between her fingers, falling onto the floor. Jane sucked a breath in through her nose, listening, feeling, as he bent over, plucking the card from the carpet and offering it to her as though nothing had happened.
When Jane didn't move, he tucked it away, taking hold of her arm, leading her quietly down the hall.
"I've been thinking about you," he told her as an elderly couple passed them by, smiling. Jane didn't look at him. "More often than I should."
He was lying to her, trying to scare her. Thor had told her about his tricks. So she held onto Thor's voice, kept the echo in her head:
Loki always lies.
"You are a beautiful woman, Jane Foster." They stepped into the stairwell. Still, she refused to look at him. Jane cringed as he brushed through the ends of her hair. "My brother is fortunate to have found you."
Another lie. The way they had talked before, she had seen it in his eyes. He hated Thor.
She could feel the smile as he breathed in her ear, "Let's see him do it again, shall we?"
"Don't touch me!" she challenged, shoving him away. Jane could feel the tears welling up behind her eyes, but she kept on. "You hurt me, you do anything to me, and he'll come... Thor will find me!"
"He left you, Jane."
Her brow furrowed, yanking her arm away from him, stepping back down a few stairs. He followed. "He came back! Thor promised he would, and he came back! But you... I saw the way you looked at him; I know. You've always been jealous of him, because you know you're not good enough!"
His lip curled, grabbing hold of her again, fingers digging into her skin. Loki hissed, "I made a promise to my brother, Jane Foster." She could hear the soft grinding of his teeth in her ear. "Now that he's well out of the way... It's time I took care of you myself."