And further still, at an unearthly height
One luminary clock against the sky
Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right
-Robert Frost
SHIELD
''What is your opinion on this?'' Fury asked Natasha. It was just the two of them in his office, now. Their conversation was off the record, and quiet. ''Do you have doubts, either about this mission, or the two of them in general?''
''I've seen them interact,'' the Black Widow answered. ''I like to think that I have a talent for reading people, and however you may feel about it, he loves her. He'd die for her.''
''I don't doubt that he loves her, and frankly that's the part that concerns me,'' Fury admitted, leaning forward, steepling his fingers. ''Right now, Darcy's our insurance policy. She keeps Loki stable. However, this is also a danger—if anything were to happen to her, if she was to be harmed in any way, I feel like he could become catastrophically dangerous. Love causes its own problems.'' The Director sighed. ''I still have no idea what happened to them, who or what they may have come into contact with. But if that machine is any indication, it could have been anything.''
''I still think, though,'' Natasha added, folding her arms, ''that they both know a hell of a lot more than they're saying.''
Fury nodded. ''Let's just hope that whatever they know, it's helpful.''
It was once again that strange and eerie hour of the very early morning, and once again, Loki found himself awake. This was alright, he didn't really need anywhere near as much sleep as a human, and neither did Darcy, not anymore. Now she was tucked beneath a sea of blankets; Loki watched the rise and fall of her chest with her breathing. Often she drifted, skirting the edges of dreams with her mind and then almost instinctively pulling away out of fear, preferring the safety of the shallow tides of half-sleep. But she'd finally relented now, relaxed, and was falling under into deeper slumber. He contemplated joining her, then decided against it. He was too awake now, there were far too many thoughts rushing around in his mind like busy insects. The blue morning shadows began to seep in, to drown the walls and floor. Loki reached out and with a flick of his fingers the curtains closed tightly. There was something very insidious about the very beginning of the day, worse to him than the uneasy gloaming of twilight. Morning was a trickster. Morning plotted. It watched and waited.
They weren't free yet, he and Darcy. They were still being used as a means to some end, kept under close watch. It wasn't a cage, of course, but it was near enough. Loki thought about this as he scooped up all of the photographs and files that still lay out from the previous evening, tucking them away, safely in their folders. She didn't need to see all that again, have it continuously haunting her, worrying her mind.
While Darcy rested, he pulled out a new sketchbook, flipped it open, and began to work, finding an almost pleasant calm washing over him as he did so. This time, Loki wouldn't have to worry about anyone seeing his drawings, he'd put a cloaking spell upon the pages so that they would appear blank unless he requested otherwise.
She lay quietly in bed, eyes softly closed, until with a sudden jolt, Darcy woke. She sat up, eyes wide, her hand flying out defensively. Energy leapt from her fingertips, aimlessly striking at the dresser across the room, sending picture frames and jewellery boxes and candles crashing violently to the floor. Her hand shook.
''What was it?'' Loki asked, setting the book down and quickly joining her on the bed. ''A nightmare?'' He slid an arm around her shoulders. Darcy sucked in a breath.
It had been, but she couldn't recall it, it was now merely a chilly black shadow slipping away around the corners of her mind.
''I think so,'' she said, staring in shocked dismay at the mess she had created. Darcy glanced down at her hand. ''So...I guess this isn't going away, is it?'' she asked meekly.
''I'm afraid not,'' replied the god, quickly adding, ''But that isn't necessarily a bad thing. It simply means that you must learn to control it, like any ability. I can teach you how.''
Darcy smiled a little, visibly calming. ''Really?''
''Of course I will. Tonight, after we suffer through whatever nonsense they have planned for us today.''
Whether it was nonsense or not, there certainly seemed to be a plan in motion, one that Loki was none too happy about once he learned of it. Almost the moment that he and Darcy arrived at SHIELD, Nick Fury requested to see them both in his office, which never boded well, it seemed. And this time was no exception.
''Loki, Darcy, both of you and Agent Romanov will be returning to Norway,'' Fury said plainly. The Director once again looked rather tired. ''You will speak with Dr. Selvig and see if he can offer anything coherent about the Gosforth Cross. You will also see if you can get any leads on any of the other objects. As we know, there are two landing sites for the Network in that country alone, it seems to be a serious energetic magnet. You will be leaving tomorrow, I suggest you pack warm clothing.''
Though extremely surprised, Darcy managed to nod an affirmative to this assignment. She opened her mouth to say something, then decided against it, simply nodding again. Loki, however, stood there silently, a stony and rather annoyed expression on his face. ''Ms. Lewis, you are dismissed,'' Fury said.
Darcy looked behind her as she went, casting a curious glance in Loki's direction before pulling the door closed.
The Director looked at him sternly. ''You look like you have something to say. So,'' he folded his hands on the table. ''Let's hear it.''
Loki narrowed his eyes at the other man. ''I am trying to be very patient,'' he began. ''I do not think that it would be beneficial for us—especially for Darcy—to go back to Norway as part of some sort of ludicrous archaeological fancy. And I also do not think that she should speak to Erik Selvig—who knows what mad nonsense he's spouting at this point? She'll just be frightened unnecessarily.''
Fury just glared at him for a moment, then said, ''That may be the case, and if so, then I am sorry—but you two are probably the most qualified people for this particular job right now, as much as I truly hate to admit that. These...energy signatures, for some reason they seem to center around you- and Darcy, according to the information I've been handed. In order for us to decide how to proceed with Infinitum II—whether to shut it down completely, set in place extra security measures, whatever—we have to understand a little more about these objects.'' He paused, his eye glittered darkly. ''Your...reappearance. The strange writing, which contains your name, the connections to you and your world. You are both a very large part of this, whether you like it or not. And now, we need your help.''
Loki stood for a moment, silent and absolute as a stone carving, then said in a very calculated tone, ''If we help you, you must make a deal with me. Once we've completed this task, you must let Darcy and I go. That means we no longer work for SHIELD. We no longer answer to you, or your misfit team. That means you leave us alone. My sins are atoned for.''
Fury was quiet, his eyebrow raised as he considered this proposition. ''We have a deal,'' he said slowly. ''However. Just understand that wherever you go, you can't hide from us. You simply can't. We won't bother you. But we will be watching.''
Loki said nothing, just gave a quick sharp nod and turned to leave. As he pulled it open, one foot out, he heard Fury say, in an almost sad-sounding voice, ''Where do you think you can go, Loki?''
Horrible, pained restraint, like needles. Not reacting made his spleen ache. He shut the door.
After work that day, rather than going directly home, Darcy decided that they should go and visit Thor and Jane, much to Loki's annoyance. ''You are going to be civil, and pleasant,'' she instructed him firmly. ''They're my friends, and Thor is your brother, for god's sake. You aren't children anymore, and this ain't Asgard. Try to get along. Or at least pretend.''
''I do so love it when you take charge,'' he responded jokingly, before heaving an aggravated sigh, adding, ''But please make it a short visit.''
Both the god and the scientist were actually quite happy to have visitors, Jane seemed to be trying her best to be kind to Loki, though Darcy knew it was for her sake more than anything.
''I really don't like that I've been forced to take so much leave,'' Jane said, a little annoyed, sloshing coffee into a large mug. ''I feel fine!''
''It wasn't just you, Jane,'' Thor reminded her gently, leaning against the counter. He couldn't really fit at the very small kitchen table. ''Barton and the Captain were also required to rest for at least a week. As was I.''
''Loki and Darcy didn't have to!'' she stubbornly protested, gesturing to the two sitting silently at the table. Meeting Darcy's gaze, Loki rolled his eyes. Be nice, she told him.
''Love, they haven't been ill.''
''They might have been,'' the scientist spoke insistently. ''They don't even remember what happened to them. And you said yourself, they both just disappeared from Asgard. I'd say vanishing and memory loss equals a little mandatory leave time.''
''One would think so,'' said Loki in a low, sarcastic voice, unable to help himself.
Jane opened her mouth to say something else, but then her gaze seemed to be caught by something on the kitchen windowsill. She frowned deeply, blinked several times, then squinted. ''Is that a new candle?'' she asked.
Thor looked over. ''What candle, Jane?''
''The one with the blue...'' she trailed off, shook her head as if to clear it. ''Sorry, I could've sworn I saw something. Nevermind. Oh well,'' the scientist laughed a little. ''Maybe I do need a vacation.''
''I guess I'm going to be pulling out all of my old sweaters again,'' Darcy said, rummaging through the closet later that evening in search of warm clothes to pack for Norway while Loki sat on the bed reading. ''This might be interesting,'' she added, trying to keep her voice light, though really she was filled with an unpleasantly queasy excitement. ''I mean, Norway is supposed to be really pretty, with the glaciers and fjords and whatnot...and I know that we were there before, and all...but I really don't remember anything except that room.'' That beautiful, wonderful room, she added, but only, only to herself. Aloud, she sighed. ''At least now we'll get to sightsee a bit.''
''I suppose you could think of it that way,'' Loki said dully, flipping a page.
''You've been doing a lot of reading,'' noted Darcy, tossing the last sweater and hat into the pile on top of her duffel bag.
''I've been brushing up,'' he admitted, closing the book briefly. ''Apparently, the binding on my abilities has completely worn off, in fact, they've actually grown stronger. I now have full access to my magick. And I need to learn more.''
''More about what?'' she asked, moving closer, sitting down on the bed, staring up at him expectantly with her large and lovely eyes.
''Hiding things,'' he replied, reaching over and retrieving his sketchbook from the night table. He flipped it open, showed it to her. ''It's blank,'' she said, shrugging.
''No, it's not,'' Loki told her, and no sooner had the words left his mouth than the drawings began to appear, flowing in neat lines across the paper, creating familiar shapes, building images.
''Oh, wow—these are good!'' Darcy exclaimed, then her eyes grew wider. ''Oh, wow, hey, getting a little...'' she stared down at the drawing in front of her, coughing back an embarrassed laugh. Of course, the drawing was of her. She was topless, her body arched back slightly, hair falling over her shoulders, eyes closed and mouth opened softly. In apparent ecstasy. ''Yeah...ok. I think I remember this.'' She looked at him, smiling almost devilishly. ''You kinda liked being tied up, didn't you?''
''It's nice not to have to...'' Loki desperately wanted to say something flippant, funny, laced with innuendo, something to make Darcy giggle, make her skin flush to that healthy, lovely hue. But instead, he told the truth. A truth so raw that the words felt as though they were bleeding out of him as he began again. ''It feels good to let go. The fight is deep inside of you, it lives in your bones. It makes you move, it never lets you fully rest. Never lets you get a good night's sleep because you never feel safe enough to close both eyes.''
The god let out a miserable, ragged breath, looked for a moment so intensely vulnerable that Darcy felt punched, heavy. ''When I'm with you, I can rest,'' Loki continued. ''I always tell you that you're safe with me, like I have to reassure you, but really, it's the other way around. I'm...so ugly on the inside, Darcy. But I have certain talents. I have power. And I have anger, and rage, and a head full of terrible things but you make it stop. I'm so selfish, but I...I can't be sorry. I'm not good enough for contrition. Or for forgiveness. The most I can hope for is some kind of peace, some...quiet. For the fight to stop, just for a minute. And you make everything so quiet. I never want it to end.''
His words washed over her, she smiled softly for a moment before responding. ''I..I kind've know what you mean. I obviously don't have your background or anything but that general feeling...the fight, feeling ugly on the inside, I get it.'' Darcy chewed absently at her fingernails now, staring at the floor as she added, ''My mom was really sick when I was growing up. I didn't totally understand what was wrong with her at the time. I thought that she would just...pretend things. Like kids did.''
Without meaning to, she scrunched up her face at the memory, made her visage ugly as she continued. ''She had a disease called Schizophrenia. It means that the chemicals in your brain go nuts and you start to see things that aren't there, or hear voices...or maybe like you start to believe really strange things like...no, no, this..'' Darcy let out a very ugly, tired bark of laughter. ''This explanation doesn't really work anymore, not after everything I've seen. It really makes you wonder what else is real. It makes you start to ask yourself what crazy means. I'm fucking a Norse god, for Christ's sake!'' She laughed harshly, fighting back unwelcome tears. ''Regardless, my mother is dead. She killed herself when I was twelve, while she was in the hospital. My dad was an alcoholic.'' Darcy now blinked rapidly, her eyes darting back and forth, seeking a memory but finding nothing. It was the strangest feeling of backwards deja vu, like a drunken conversation when trains of thought slip away forgotten like water through fingertips. Unconsciously, she scratched at her arm.
''He was an alcoholic...but I don't...I don't really remember...anyway.'' She sighed nervously as she tried to compose herself. ''I never felt safe, not for a really long time. I know about wanting to be in a place where you don't have to fight anymore. Where you can sleep. I tried to find that place with a lot of people, with the wrong kind of people.'' Darcy shook her head, raised her eyes to meet Loki's, her gaze was as abrupt as a sudden solar flare. ''You think that you're so bad. And yes, you did very, I mean very bad things, but you have also protected me, and loved me, and made me feel more safe than anyone I've ever met. I can breathe when I'm with you. We all have terrible things in our heads, Loki. You either listen, and let the sound drive you mad, or you find a place that's quiet. And you take someone there with you, so you don't have to be alone.''
He spent a very long while just looking at her, mulling over her words, letting them burn into him while his eyes burned into her. And then he got up, stood beside Darcy. His movements were slow, full of deep restraint as he put his arms around her waist, then ran his fingers up over her torso, gripping her shoulder and then moving along her arm, holding it out, lacing his fingers through hers. ''Look at the wall,'' he whispered roughly in her ear. ''Look right at it, pick a spot and stare.'' Breathing heavily, Darcy followed his instructions, locking her eyes on a specific place over in the corner by the bookcase. ''Ok,'' she said ''I have it.''
''Good girl. Now,'' he locked his other arm around her waist, splaying his fingers out across her lower abdomen, ''concentrate the energy here, right in the center of you. Can you feel it?''
Darcy could definitely feel something, but whether it was the gathering of some sort of telekinetic energy or a flare of arousal, she didn't know.
''Pick an object now, something in your line of vision,'' he instructed, the words rasped cooly against her ear.
Her eyes were immediately drawn to a snow globe sitting atop the bookshelf. It had been a gift from someone that she hadn't really liked. Why she had always kept it, Darcy didn't know.
''The snow globe,'' she told him.
''Good. Now, what do you want to do to it?'' Loki asked her, his hand pressing a little more firmly against her. ''Your intent matters. It tells you...how hard to push.''
''I...I want to break it,'' she confessed, feeling simultaneously ashamed and exhilarated.
''What does breaking feel like for you?'' he asked, a soft, honest question. The words tingled on her skin, like cool electricity.
Darcy's fingers locked with his so tightly that they nearly shattered each other's hands. She looked deep into his eyes—that feeling, oh, that feeling of staring right into the sun. Connectedness to the point of pain. ''Like this,'' she said.
''Let go, now,'' he instructed, and the energy coiled inside of her released, burning up out of her chest and along her arm. It left her body like lightning, leaving Darcy gasping. In less than a second, she heard a bright, shattering sound, looked over and saw shards of glass littering the wooden dresser top, water and sparkling, glittering fake snow spilling out and dripping to the floor. Everything sparkled wetly. It was beautiful.
''Very good,'' he told her, genuinely impressed.
''I...I did that,'' Darcy whispered in disbelief. She still hadn't quite wrapped her mind around the fact that this ability was now a part of her, more than just a freak occurrence.
''Yes, you did.'' Loki smiled. ''And you did beautifully.''
The flight to Norway was a rather long one, Darcy realized. She hadn't exactly been conscious for the previous journey back from there, and now she almost wished that she could sleep again. But unfortunately, she was far too keyed up and anxious. Fidgeting and staring out the jet window at the rolling clouds, she hummed ''I Wanna Be Sedated'' by the Ramones and tapped her foot.
Loki observed her with both amusement and concern, reaching over and resting his hand on her knee, which Darcy seemed always to find calming. She stopped fidgeting, took a deep breath. ''Sorry,'' she whispered to him.
Natasha, who had been speaking to the pilot, returned to the cabin. ''Shouldn't be too much longer now. We'll be landing in less than an hour. There will be a car at the airport to take us to the hospital.''
At the word 'hospital', Darcy gave a light, almost imperceptible flinch. Loki noticed, and brushed his fingers against hers. She smiled at the small, comforting gesture, then stared out the window again, trying to push a well of memory and old fear down, far down, where not even she could find it.
''Isn't it rather cruel to bring me here to speak to this man?'' Loki asked Natasha, who sat in the passenger seat of the large black sedan. ''Won't he be...incredibly upset to see me?''
The Black Widow leaned around and quirked an eyebrow at him. ''You're honestly concerned with Selvig's mental state? That's...new. Actually, we already considered all of that and perhaps it might actually help, in this instance.''
''How?''
''You're like the flu, Loki,'' she explained briskly, but her full lips curved up into a lopsided smile. ''And to vaccinate people against the flu, you have to expose them to it.''
''That makes no sense whatsoever,'' he grumbled. Natasha looked over at Darcy now, seated beside him. ''Erik may know you, he may not. It depends on how lucid he is at the moment. Whatever happens, whatever he says, don't take it personally.''
''I won't,'' Darcy said, almost through gritted teeth. Her face had grown very pinched and tired since they had gotten in the car to the hospital. She desperately wanted to chew her fingernails, but was trying to break herself of the habit. Maybe I'll take up smoking, she thought to herself, now that I don't exactly have to worry about lung cancer or heart disease.
The clinic was a very large, sprawling complex of buildings at the end of a very long drive. It was set on many acres of land, surrounded by breathtaking natural beauty, giant clusters of trees. Snow dusted over everything. The sky was very gray, a few errant flakes fell.
One of the hospital staff met them at the gate, escorting the three quietly inside, through several different sets of doors that quickly locked behind them with a sharp click. The place was decorated to be calming, very pleasant, but there was still no denying what it really was. They passed by a few patients, their eyes glassed over and solemn. One, a thin, older woman drew in a hiss of breath when she saw Darcy and Loki. She looked like she wanted to say something, leaning forward, perched on her chair like an awkward bird, her too-large robe fluttering around her. Then she pressed a hand against her mouth and said nothing, sinking down and away. Darcy felt her heart twitch, as if it were missing beats. She then felt the comfort of Loki's hand against her lower back, felt that familiar rush of calm spread through her blood as he gave her what she supposed was some sort of magical valium. This was one of the most fascinating things about Loki: he could break, torture, burn—but he was also a healer, when he wanted to be, though nobody had really seen that side except her.
Erik's room was at the end of a long corridor. ''Most of the patients on this ward have a private room,'' explained the nurse. ''He needs his space.'' She opened the door to reveal a rather spacious room with a bed, a desk, and a few chairs.
''Dr. Selvig, your visitors are here,'' she spoke in a very placid, slow tone.
The scientist sat in a chair by the window, staring out at the sky, at the tops of the fir trees. He'd grown thinner, and older, Darcy noticed when Erik turned around to face them. His eyebrows raised slightly, as if in mild recognition, and he almost, almost smiled. Although it could have been a grimace. ''I'll be right down the hall if you need me,'' the nurse said, then turned and left them all alone.
Nobody said anything for a moment until Darcy moved forward with soft and tentative footsteps. ''Erik? It's me, Darcy.'' She smiled gently, hopefully. ''Do you remember me?''
He studied her face. ''You're new,'' he said softly. ''Not like the other one.''
''I...I don't...'' Darcy wasn't sure how to respond to that. Unconsciously, she moved back a few steps.
''Dr. Selvig, we'd just like to ask you-'' Natasha began, but Erik shook his head. ''No, no, you are asking the wrong person the wrong questions.'' He turned away, back to the window.
''Then what are the right questions, old man, and who should we be asking?'' Loki demanded, still in the shadows near the doorway, his tone soft yet slightly aggravated.
''Oh, it's you,'' Selvig chuckled a little as he turned to face them once again. ''I didn't recognize you.'' His eyes raked over the god and then he almost smiled. ''Not without the light.''
''What light?'' asked Darcy.
''The blue light. The blue light holds everything together, and then it burns it down. Doesn't even leave ashes, everything just...'' he waved a hand in the air, stared in rapture at nothing.
In an attempt to coax him back to reality, Natasha gently but firmly said, ''Doctor, I know that you know about the Infinitum Project. I need you to please tell us everything you can about the objects that help to connect the Network.''
''Standing stones, mostly, or runestones.'' Selvig frowned, snapping into lucidity for a moment. ''Of course, there are so many around here,'' he laughed. ''It's really all a matter of finding the right ones. I had some information that I was going to follow up on, right before the storm began. There was a woman, an old woman, some kind of seer. She lives in a little cabin, several miles north, out in the middle of nowhere. Apparently, she knows all about the stones, their powers. She's seen things appear, disappear. She's the one who found what was left of poor Dr. Highwater.''
Erik grew quiet, thoughtful. His gaze was drawn out the window again. ''Once I wanted to know so much. Now, I'd do anything to give back what I've seen. But it doesn't work that way.'' He sighed. ''I suppose there must always be sacrifice.''
''You can't wake the dreamwalkers,'' he added suddenly, with a rueful shake of his head. ''They're as good as dead. But death would be kinder, much kinder.''
''What are dreamwalkers?'' asked Natasha, frowning.
Something prickled and flared in the back of Darcy's mind, a memory. Pieces trying to shift themselves together into something understandable. She moved closer to Erik now, again trying to reach him, despite the warning rush of cold fear that suddenly crawled over her body like a millipede. ''Are they lost?'' she asked.
He nodded. ''All gone. Already been collected. Just sleeping shells upstairs. But I can hear them sometimes.''
At this, Darcy turned and walked back into the hallway, up to the nurse's desk. She had a terrible, powerful hunch—no, it was a knowing. Natasha followed her out. ''Excuse me?'' she asked the nurse, ''Can you tell me if there are any patients here in a kind of unexplained coma, or catatonic state? With no prior history of mental illness or injury?''
The nurse nodded. ''Yes, there are. On the next floor up. Two of them, been here for several years. But I'm afraid that's all the information that I am allowed to provide you with.''
Sleeping shells upstairs.
''What is it?'' asked Natasha, putting her hand on Darcy's shoulder. ''What do you know that you aren't saying?''
Before she could respond, they were approached by the same woman, the patient who had been watching her and Loki so closely as they arrived. She creeped over tentatively, like a spider, then looked into Darcy's eyes. ''Did you see the wolf?'' the woman demanded, an eerily excited delight tinging the words. ''Did you?'' Her voice rose higher, her eyes now burning and frantic. Natasha grabbed Darcy by the arm and pulled her away just as two attendants came and then the woman was carried off, crying ''dark grows the sun! dark grows the sun!''