I find that I've written this as Loki's story in Tony's perspective.
You chose this…
P.s. This is like the crappest chapter EVER; so sorry.
Enjoy…
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"Excuse me," Tony squeaked out before moving as quickly yet as subtly as he could towards the monitor's station and away from an oblivious Steve. Fury and Loki; no, not a good idea.
Surprisingly, as he swung open the door to the closest surveillance room, he was met with Natasha who was already watching the unfolding events. Clearly he underestimated her hacking abilities.
"Natasha?" he asked, quickly slipping into an empty seat and gluing his eyes to the screens where Fury paced and Loki sat in his bonds.
"Captain told me. Said Loki'd been entering a fit again – I thought I'd better watch." She spoke with all the force of someone doing their job and looking out for their superior and yet she didn't kick him out. He figured that said something.
"You don't have any sound yet?" Tony queried, quickly typing in a few commands after snatching the keyboard out of her hands – she must have not had the time. Moments later a crackling and then the echo of heavy footfalls indicated their link to the room and they sat with rapt attention, watching the many screens unfold a mess in their wake.
Fury was outside the cage, pacing back and forth in his black trench coat, looking through one eye menacingly as he stalked his prey and no doubt tried to intimidate. He says try because Loki looks completely otherwise preoccupied, the swirling mass of his eyes glaring brightly as the runes fused and ran and re-wrote themselves dangerously. The music he put off was digging and heightening randomly, no semblance of beat and it sounded vaguely horrifying in light of the lack of control it suggested – Tony remembers the time he startled Loki with the spoons and the music had hitched harshly, notifying him the two were somehow linked.
"Loki." The director prompted, coming to a stop on the outside of the glass. Loki, in return, smiled ferociously and his loose voice commandeered by something unstoppable came out sickly sweet in poison, like a thousand razor blades sheathed in only the light presence of a single layer of skin.
"Nicholas." He smiled, back arching as the runes flashed brightly, his grin and driven eyes being shown to the roof as the force directed his head back.
"You're goons didn't complete their job," Fury continued, not seeming to be affected by the display and walking to the door of the prison, "They're in the next room."
"Ehehe," Loki laughed, watching with a slide of satisfaction on his lips as the director made his bold moves, "They're none of mine." He continued happily. Fury typed in the codes and the door hissed open allowing fresh air to flood the chamber and, along with that, the scent of the man standing in the doorway. "Oh Nick," his voice sounded a mocking disappointment but issued the other forth; "Do come in."
"Enough of your games." Fury ordered, taking another bold step forwards and entering the room, allowing the door to hiss shut behind him.
"Such ill formed games are not constructed by me – I am not the master here." The possessed god crooned, leaning forward in his binds, slick deadly smile still flashing.
"You're trickery isn't welcome here."
"My trickery?" Loki gasped out merrily as more symbols twirled from his back over his shoulder blades and down his chest, "Big words coming from the banker." He sung, still leaning forwards even as his form shuttered at the runes tracing his body.
"The banker? Who are you then? Community Chest? Chance? Or perhaps you're the car."
"Perhaps I am the board; not even aware I was a part of the play and yet the most integral part." He arched violently as Fury paced to stop in front of him a scant seven metres away. Again Loki laughed as he settled, bringing his eyes up to look at the man in front of him after they had fallen in light of the fit, "Whatever I may be, I suggest you stop underpaying the players; people don't take too kindly to being cheated."
"And you should know."
"Ehehe, you misunderstand me," Loki teased, head turning away while their eyes stay locked, "What I meant to say was; you shall cease or you shall pain."
"Cease now? We've come too far and you're not getting out of this."
"Don't make excuses Nicholas; they're useless in your plight." He smiled terrifyingly and finally Fury had the decency to look at least slightly perturbed. The look multiplied when Loki stepped out of his shackles, simply moving his leg forward as though to walk and the bindings snapping in his wake. His arms did the same, simply snapping loose as he made his way forward.
Once both of Loki's feet were placed on the ground he looked to them before looking back to the director and giving him another toothy grin. The god linked his hands behind his back and rocked back on the balls of his feet as a chuckle passed through the teeth. Fury stood his ground though, not backing down. "And I could care less for your progress," Loki sneered through the smirk, moving forwards and directly into the other's space. The space between them decreases more so as Loki circles him, leaning in to threaten yet keeping his hands behind him and therefore stopping any malicious motions; "I care only for what you are doing."
Fury looks genuinely terrified – well, terrified for Fury – in light of Loki using his height and obvious strength to his advantage. Tony watched as the director taps as the pager in his hands, sending out for backup, but neither Natasha or he moves.
"Click away little man," Loki's voice was horribly painful to hear; dangerous in all the ways it has never been before, with so much more force than ever, "How long will they play your game?" he snaps in his ear before continuing his journey around the body, the languid circles close enough that if he were to be any closer they would most certainly be touching. Fury looks frozen to the place and Tony wonders why he didn't anticipate this happening; although he'll admit he never thought Loki was chasing Fury through the walls; maybe a goon miles away, but never their director mere metres away. "How long? When they figure you out, find out your plans," the word rolled from his tongue in a beautiful display of hate, "I wonder what they should do if the things they knew were turned on their heads, don't you? If they found certain files and certain information and certain people spoke that of which they were required not to." The door to the room snapped open as Thor and Steve charge through. Loki spares them nought a glance, but it is enough to shake Fury from his trance and he takes a step back out of the gods space. And another and another. Until, unfortunately, it places him too close to the glass and Loki strikes his arm out, palm flattening against the glass and blocking Fury's path to the door where Thor and Steve are trying to get in, because Lord knows neither of them are patient enough to put in the 12 digit code correctly. "Rectify it." Loki spits angrily in his face as Steve finally pushes Thor aside and takes the time to push in the numbers, "You have your future to come; figure out where you're going." Steve finally finished the code and the door slowly slides open, "I care not where you've come from," Thor grabbed Loki's arm but the trickster just shakes him off, the action throwing the thunderer across the room surprising all there bar Loki himself, "But believe me when I say that if you do not correct your err I shall come for you."
Loki stared Fury dead in the eye for a long moment, long enough for Thor to regain his footing and try again with Steve at his side. They push themselves between the two and Loki raises his hands in mock surrender as Steve ushers Fury out leaving Thor to deal with his focused brother. Loki chuckles again in light of Thor's fighting stance and without taking one himself manages to look just as menacing. "Just a bit of fun." He smiles but the glow of the runes dampen as the director finds his way to the wall; as far away from Loki as he can get and ordering a cocktail of drugs to be brought down and administered to the prisoner.
"Why, brother, do you focus on the director? He is a good man." Thor argued, still crouched and ready to pounce even as Loki calmly and tamely takes a retreating step back – not out of fear though, never out of fear in this form. People rush into the room and also make their way towards the container, crude looking weapons in their hands.
"I've known many a good man Thor. That, this man is not." He held his hand up as though wanting to use the light to see through it; instead flames erupt from the surface and run over it as he calmly contemplated it. "The horrors, Thor, brother, that he has planned. You know that I can see them now, now, with this enhancement." His eyes snapped sideways to the elder god fire dulling out, "I think, before I fall, that I would request that you keep your mind open; I do not lie in this form Thor." He turned to give him attention, "I have no need to lie when such terrors walk amongst you, such nightmares forming that only need the cutting slice of a well-trained tongue to tremble your world and tear it to shreds with naught an option on your behalf while you watch the things you care for rot beneath your feet." It's not a threat, just a stating of facts and that makes it so much worse. The weaponed humans finally take the initiative to shoot at the raven haired, darts lodging into his skin and no doubt lacing his blood stream with a string of concoctions.
Loki doesn't even blink.
Not to the sound.
Not to the piercing of his skin.
Not to the drugs.
There are at least seven darts sticking him like a pin cushion, three of which he can identify as high class sedatives they have in storage ready to placate the hulk. And the green beast only ever needs one. Clearly they weren't taking any chances.
Too bad for them even the surplus garners no effects.
Loki's eyes tick dangerously from Thor's to lock onto the form of the director behind him and through the glass, mouth curling maliciously. Thor immediately tries to halt him again; right arm grabbing at Loki's left shoulder to ground him. Loki doesn't even regard him as he lifts him left hand and places it on Thor's forearm seemingly gently but apparently far from as he looks to softly guide it away whilst Thor's body twists with the movement of the action and a shocked look passes his face. The golden haired falls to the side under the gentle caress and Loki marches to the front of the cage stopping just short of the glass and Thor just watched on, unsure what to do. The people with the guns are backing away quickly.
"You are lucky for one sole reason," Loki addressed their leader, "You have something precious, something rare to garner, especially from one such as I; you have time." Loki reverses until his back is pressed up against the vertical table, "But be swift; it's quickly running out." And with a smile he allowed the restrains to wrap back around his ankles and wrists.
Fury left the room and the runes died down completely. The drugs never did have the desired effect of knocking the god out – he stayed awake long after they left even as they called a team meeting, but Tony notes that the other drugs have shut off any magic the other used to even gain by breathing. One of the drugs, or maybe the combination of them had stopped the flow completely, which was positive considering his control had been shot to threads for now.
"We need to figure out what to do with Loki." The director issued the room, giving them all an evil eye especially potent as compensation for what happened earlier that day.
"He was fine before you decided to pay him a visit." Tony spoke up, not bothering to skirt around the issue.
"In which we found out that we don't know what we're doing – he is dangerous and needs to be stopped." He reprimanded before turning his attention to Thor, "Do you think you could take him back to Asgard?"
"My brothers imprisonment earlier hath not been met well by the citizens of Asgard." He replied dutifully.
"Are you telling me that because he's a Prince your people wouldn't want him punished?" Fury leaned across the table dangerously.
"Nay, the people would rather they be given an opportunity to punish him themselves – but such actions would be unwise. He hath escaped before and Loki has become somewhat opposed to the forms punishment he receives-"
"Wait. What type of punishment?" Steve cut across.
"Whatever the Allfather finds fitting."
"Like sewing his mouth shut? Like in the legends? That type of punishment?" Bruce accuses from across the desk.
"If the Allfather sees it fit."
"Hang on; doesn't that happen because he cut some chick's hair?" Clint relayed his input.
"Indeed, that is the tale." Thor replied and Tony noted the way he used his words so that he doesn't lie outright. Bruce did too, he can tell and not only because of the anger flashing in his eyes but also through the subtle shaking lacing his fingers.
"But that's all it is; a tale, right?" Bruce pointed out, "His mouth wasn't sewn shut because he cut a woman's hair, was it?" Thor looked perturbed; he didn't know what to do with the accusation.
"I know no-" he began but again Bruce cuts him off. Bruce has everyone's attention now, what with the way his left hand grips the edge of the table.
"Because I think that he had his mouth sewn shut for something else." His eyes were narrow as he challenged the god, "Didn't he?"
"You know not of the matters you speak." Thor ground out, sitting up further in his chair.
"Well would you like to clear it up for us?" receiving only silence he continued, "No? Well i'll do the honours. Your brother," even Bruce spat the word like it was a lie, "told me how it was his reward for saving your life." Thor stayed silent, his nostrils flared, "It's true isn't it?" Bruce leant forward in his seat, "Isn't it?"
"He fled from battle; it is a dishonour to the house of Odin."
"He saved your life."
"He disgraced Asgard!" Thor shouted rising to his feet.
"By making sure you both made it out alive!" Bruce replied just as harshly, jumping up and leaning half over the table, fingers digging at the wood under his fingers. "When you were too proud to flee he instructed you how to fight your enemies because they were invisible while fighting for himself and guarding your treasure! And when you got back to the Palace he" he flayed his arm in the general direction of the holding cell, "had his mouth sewn shut and was shipped off for 'punishment' on another planet!" he took multiple harsh breaths to try and calm himself before finishing softer but no less harshly, "Isn't that right?"
"When hath my brother told you this?"
"In case you haven't noticed he's been here for a while."
"My brother lies, Bruce Banner, you would do well to remember that."
"But that's not the lie is it? The lie is that he told everyone it was for cutting someone's hair so that you wouldn't be seen as to have left a battle, isn't it? But what I want to know," he pointed one finger to the desk to emphasise it, "Is where the hell that is seen as a legitimate punishment for any sort of action."
"The Allfather made it so."
"No, Thor. Torture is never, never a decent punishment; no matter the crime."
"But the Allfather-"
"Dammit Thor!" Tony cried over the top, "Just because Daddy says so doesn't mean that it's alright!"
"Well he had it coming." The director reinstated his presence.
"He had nothing coming; he had just saved his brother's life." Natasha argued with much the same conviction as she had with Thor days previous.
"He's dangerous." Fury argued.
"Only because you went in there." Clint piped up, realisation dawning on his face, "What did you do? Even Thor, the hardly supportive brother said so; he only goes after people who deserve it. What did you do?"
"…We all have our pasts." The director grouched.
"And yet he's fine with all of us. That's why you want him gone; he can get to you – so what did you do?" Clint emphasised as Bruce finally took his seat again, calming himself.
"You've made up for your transgressions; therefore he shan't chase you. Perhaps the director has not." Thor spoke, sitting stiffly.
"And you? I'm sure you made up for sewing his mouth shut and ignoring his PTSD after multiple accounts of rape and apparently torture." Natasha swivelled to face him.
"I have nothing to fix – he knows the actions were fit."
"He listened to the Allfather too?"
"Everyone listens to the Allfather; Loki knew what not listening would garner."
"If you weren't a god I would punch you. I might just do it anyway."
"But Loki said you could fix it," Steve interrupted. Everyone turned to the director for his response.
"…Maybe I can." He finally acquiesced, turning to flourish out of the room but not before ordering that the prisoner be kept on whatever drugs had put him in his current state.
"Loki," he called later inside the cell while Bruce is on duty and sitting outside, "Loki" he again prompted, the rest of the avengers sitting outside also as they discuss the previous events. He has no idea why they let him in, they always do though. He placed his hand gently on the tricksters shoulder and the reaction is immediate. Pictures, flashing slowly at first in the space and all he could see was a scene flicking in and out. He stepped back instantly, unsure of what he's done, calling out to Thor for an explanation.
"He is projecting." Thor said quietly, "Memories, for now, as seen by Heimdall." Loki looked so peaceful on the bed while his face flicks in the air from multiple different times, different circumstances. "He uses magic normally to hold the projections at bay; he does not wish for others to watch his life yet again as Heimdall has."
In the images Loki looks at rest, looking out over a field one second before flicking to his contemplation of things happening around him; of course they can't really see that, only Loki's reactions. The images flicker softly, Loki in different clothes doing different things; laying in grass, sitting on a roof. Loki smiling down from the roof, Loki giving his helmet to someone they just cannot see. Thor coming to see him on the hill, Loki smiling. The same in a room, in a tree, on a beach. The images are starting to flicker faster, not much, but they can only really take in the pictures before they're gone. They're all rapt. Thor tossing his arms up in a manner of environments, grabbing Loki by the arm and pulling him away from the orchard, a book, a shop, a nap. Three men and a woman, joining to push him towards the forest, the stables, the ocean, the bifrost. Caves, mountains, fields, cliffs, all manner of environments with five enthusiastic friends and Loki trailing behind. Spoils; treasure, gold, flowers, once a library but they leave without taking anything and Loki glancing to the knowledge wantonly. Fighting, enemies; beasts smaller than their hips, creatures three times larger. Wolves, Vampires, Leviathans, Sea Serpents. Dragons. It's a mash of memories and they can't follow even one of the stories. Swords, hammers, clubs, weapons dealing close blowing damage. Loki disregarded; guarding and defending. Failing, they are failing. Knives, knives everywhere. Loki tossing, running into the bear, the basilisk, the bilgesnipe, the beast. Saving. Tearing, shredding, flipping. Magic. Pain, red, injured. Disappointment – they could have handled it. Enemies again; small regiments of them. Towering tall. Small, striking quick. Wide and horrid with teeth like needles. Thin and long with a strangling grasp. Failing. Failing. Failing. Not saving – can't save. Smoke, fire, blockades, distractions. Freedom. Running, killing; winning, losing; hitting, fleeing; weapons, magic; knives, hammer; staff, sword. Contradictions, differences are all that is seen. Palace. Gold on gold. Bright and exuberant, the sun shining. The people. The warriors, golden and glinting, even covered in blood. Greatness. Perfection. Shadow, Loki walking wounded. Dropping to his knees as Thor, Odin, the three, the woman, guards take the bounty. Court. A thousand eyes staring down. Loki on the floor. On his knees – bowing now. Orders, judgement, a golden circle and blue – eye. Disappointment. Lifted. Dragged. Images flicking so fast while the real Loki continues to look at rest, sleeping face deceptively calm for what runs through his mind. Dragged, pushed, shoved. Colours everywhere, bridges, falling. Hitting. Staying. Hands, armour, grip tight. Chains. The images are flicking so fast they can barely tell one from another. Profiles, front shots, back shots, angled, they're all the same; screaming. Yelling. Red and harsh. Blood. Pain. Tears. Teeth. Yelling. Tearing. Stripping. Flaying. Burning. Grinding. Screaming through stitches, lips ripping. Dirt, mud, muck. Sick. It's silent but they can tell through the strain in the image's neck.
Until it's not and there's so much yelling and it's so loud and even their hands over their ears can't stop it. It's sickening but the sleeping form still looks content; looks are deceiving.
Until he too screams, the memories taking their toll and pouring out of his throat raw. He stretched on his now multiplied binds, all 14 of the hulk capacitating straps holding him down, digging into his skin.
Tony tried to wake him but to no avail and they exit the area, standing outside where the screams penetrate even the soundproof walls.
No one ever stayed in Loki's cell area while he slept – they only entered once the screaming had stopped. Day after day, night after night. Loki couldn't do anything about it – he had no magic to.
Natasha spent the most time in there, only leaving when the screaming began but allowing herself to endure the torture of watching such pain. She was certain that one day important information would come from his sleep relivings.
Loki hardly looks at them when they watch him, staring off into space instead. Steve thinks it's out of shame; Bruce knows it's out of self-disgust.
Loki hardly even looks at Tony, and that's the worst. He gets no rest because of the nightmares. He doesn't eat.
He seems content to waste away in the enemy's basement.
Fury doesn't go near the cage any longer.
They've taken to sometimes leaving Loki with a few S.H.I.E.L.D. agents at times because they all honestly need a rest.
It's at one of these rare times that the Avengers are taken by surprise.
The helicarrier is infiltrated.
Well, really, Noah and his bimbo just escaped, but either way, the machine is compromised.
Bruce is hammering his pager – he can't hulk out up here so he can't protect himself.
Tony needs his suit.
It's no-where near him.
He's at a fork in the road; left or right – both lead to his suit but left takes him past the prison cells while right takes him past the more office like structures. Safety – because they escaped the cells, they aren't hanging there – or civilians.
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I told you; crap.
Left or right guys; it's vague because I've been giving you some detailed choices lately. Think over the option.
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Stay tuned and Stay awesome