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Day 253
Asgard: Heimdall
Frigga haunted him, watching his eyes more than listening to his words. Heimdall could not hide Jane much longer. He had spoken truth—of sorts; he did not see Jane's dead body. Perhaps there was still hope.
Thor had called to him, but there was no easy way to send a message in return. Odin had refused to allow the use of dark matter: Frigga had chosen to reveal only that Jane was missing and Thor was distressed. This was not an event worthy of using precious strength; Jane was merely a distraction for his son.
But Frigga knew that Jane Foster was so much more than that.
ESRL, Boulder, Colorado: Darcy
Missing. Such a horrible word, so hollow. Panic, pain, sorrow, dread, without closure. Just endless heart-thumping grief, drowning out hope and wishing.
Jane was gone. And it was partly Darcy's fault. She never told anyone about the mark, about the bond...about the baby. She had promised Jane that she wouldn't tell. She had promised that Jane could trust her. But had that trust led to Jane's disappearance?
Erik and the others kept talking about how Jane likely died doing what she loved. They tried to make sense of it, to find something positive in her disappearance. But they don't know what Darcy knew.
Her heart ached and her brain was exhausted. But then Darcy read the report. Do it. Do it before you lose your nerve again.
"Thor? Wanna get out of here for a bit, go for a walk?"
Vancouver, British Columbia: Jane
Safe. The word, the feeling, the idea sent a tendril into Jane's sleeping mind. Safe. It took root, stirring and shifting her deepest subconscious. Safe. It budded, nudging her sweetly up through layers of sleep. We're safe... Blooming, it returned her to wakefulness.
Light brushed her eyelids. Jane blinked, then opened her eyes fully. I'm alive. She tunneled her hands under the heavy comforter to find Alie. A gentle bump assured her all was well. The ceiling blurred...tears of relief slowly wet her pillow.
For days she'd existed in a frozen hell. Jane squeezed her eyes shut against the memory...gasping for breath through blue, cold lips, bruises blossoming from every point of internal impact, unable to eat. No one to help. Can't trust anyone—can't expose anyone. Day bled into night paled to day. Over and over. How long does it take to die? Coughing, bright red smear on the tissue...just let me go...
How am I—how are we—still here?
ESRL, Boulder, Colorado: Thor
I will tear him limb from limb. I will personally rip the beating heart from his body. Now. Immediately. I will find Loki and make him pay for what he's done.
Towering thunderheads, howling winds, gathering electricity...
"Thor? I'm so sorry, so, so sorry. I didn't know how else to tell you. But that storm looks really bad. And it's gonna be hard to keep this from the others if you make the city go boom."
"I'll pay her a visit myself!" So he had.
This is beyond the pale. Coward. To go after Jane. To make her lie, to destroy her life...and to leave behind a child.
Black sky, funnel clouds, ozone...
"Hey, big guy...I need you to focus on me. The lightning rods here on Earth can't take a hit from you. Is there anyway you could relax, put Mew-mew down?"
How could Heimdall not have known?
Hair stands on end, the air rushes out of the atmosphere...
"Thor! You're gonna kill us all!"
Darcy. Breathe. Hold. Think. Breathe. Control.
Asgard: Heimdall
Time had nearly slipped away. Treason threatened.
oooOOOooo
Day 254
Sarah's place: Loki
He drifted loosely through dreamscapes, the clamor and sting of his waking life held far at bay. Jane fit tucked under his chin, her short hair tickling him. She fit held to his chest, his hand cradling her pregnant belly.
In unison they breathed, a slow inhale exhale, as they had the last three nights.
The night was melting away.
He needed to leave before she came out of deep sleep, as he had the last three nights.
He wanted to stay.
Fool.
oooOOOooo
Day 255
Dark Horse Pub, Boulder, Colorado: Darcy
"What do we do now?" Darcy stage-whispered as Thor drained his fifth beer. She wanted to be discreet, but this place was crazy on a Sunday night. She had wanted to be discreet on Friday, too, but Thor's God of Thunder act kind of screwed that up. Malone had practically shoved them into a side room when they stepped back into ESRL...
Malone had ripped off his suit coat, and roughly rolled up his sleeves. Ooh, nice arms, Darcy noted. Not as large as Thor's, of course, but whose were?
"What just happened out there?" he demanded. "You two take a walk and fifteen minutes later, the entire city is scrambling to take cover from the storm of the century."
Darcy folded her arms and cocked an eyebrow. "And you just assume that was Thor's fault? Geez."
His glare may have singed her eyebrows. She sighed. "I just thought Thor should know—"
Malone cut her off. "No, I want to hear from him. You—you're a distraction."
A distraction? Nicholas thought she was a distraction? She yanked out a chair and plopped down. Wait. Is being a distraction good or bad? Oh, my word, Darcy, pay attention. Thor started talking and what if he doesn't stick to the script?
"...me to apologize for creating such a commotion. I allowed my emotions to override my good judgment. I am deeply grateful that Darcy Lewis brought me to my senses. "
Malone cut his eyes her way. She worked hard to keep a dignified expression, when she wanted to be all, "In your face!"
"What did Ms. Lewis disclose that caused you such emotional turmoil?"
Could Thor convince Malone?
Thor calmly set Mjolnir down on the conference table and turned to face Agent Malone fully. "Ms. Lewis wished to have a private conversation with me. For that reason we left your company."
"Private conversations during the course of an active investigation are discouraged, particularly private conversations which nearly bring catastrophe on the city. If this conversation in any way related to Jane Foster, then I have to ask you to report it to me."
The blonde god took a measured step closer to Agent Malone, his heritage evident in his proud bearing, though he wore jeans and a button-down shirt. "I don't believe I'm bound by the laws and customs of this realm."
Malone stood his ground. That was hot. "If you wish to be considered a friend of this realm, you will comply."
Thor looked to Darcy. She nodded slowly; he sighed. "Very well." He leveled that cerulean gaze on Malone. "We believe Jane Foster was neither the victim of foul play nor of an accident. We believe she chose to...that is, that she perhaps put herself in harm's way."
Malone jammed his fingers through his typically neat hair. "You think she committed suicide." Keeping his eyes on Thor, he said, "And how long have you kept this information to yourself, Ms. Lewis?"
Ms. Lewis? Ouch. "Since I read the final report of the scene at the river. So just a few days."
"What in the report made you form this opinion?"
"Her backpack was lying on the bank with her laptop and her phone in it."
"That's correct. So?"
"So, that's crazy. Jane would never do that. Not under, you know, normal circumstances. I saw the photos. That's a freakin' steep trail from the visitors' center to the river. It's winter. You practically have to count on falling a few times. She wouldn't have risked damaging her laptop if she had been expecting to use it again. And don't tell me she took it down to the river to map the stars. You don't have to be an astrophysicist to know that you don't hike down into a narrow split in the land to watch the sky."
Malone studied her face. "So someone grabbed her out there in the wild."
"Yeah, sure. After, what, asking her politely to remove her backpack? And leaving absolutely no sign of a struggle? Jane wouldn't have gone quietly."
"Why would Jane have taken her own life?"
She drew a shaky breath. That, at least, was not acting. "She never really recovered from the trauma of the Destroyer's attack on Puente Antiguo. Finding out Loki had promised to return for the Tesseract sent her into a depression. And she felt like she would never be free of SHIELD's control and invasion of her privacy."
Darcy signaled the waitress to bring them both new beers. Thor stared into his nearly-empty stein, just swirling the amber liquid. She reached across the table and poked his arm. He looked up.
"Hey," she said. "Did you hear me?"
"Yes." Thor stared into his glass again. "I don't know what to do next."
"Look, there's no way Jane was the one who left that backpack by the river. Forget about the stupid laptop—she would never have climbed down there in her condition. Even though this crapfest screwed up her whole life, she wouldn't even consider termination. She wouldn't have put the baby at risk like that."
Thor flinched when she said "baby," and Darcy felt bad, but he had to face facts. She pushed farther. "Someone wants us to think that she's dead. What if Loki took her? We have to find her!"
Thor shut his eyes. "I'm not sure Jane Foster wants to be found."
oooOOOooo
Day 256
Vancouver, British Columbia: Jane
Fog draped the sun. A clammy drizzle kept Jane inside the farmhouse. The view out of every window was gray and bare.
But weather was a passing thing, and winter was more than half over. Perhaps she would buy some flowers to plant on either side of the front steps. She didn't expect any visitors, but she could enjoy the bit of color.
It was foolish, she knew, to plan for the future. The chances of her seeing spring were slim. But a few nights ago she hadn't expected to live to see the dawn, and here she was.
Three mornings ago, when she awoke whole, she had wondered if Thor had found her, as he had in Puente Antiguo. There was no blond savior waiting in the kitchen, however; no sign that anyone had been in her house. And yet something had happened. Strength trickled back to her bones, muscles, and soul day by day. Insulation seemed to have developed around her womb. The cold was merely cool; the destructive kicks simply bumps. Occam's razor forced her to conclude that Loki had saved her life, and that of Alie.
Don't put too much stock in it, she warned herself. He gets as much relief out of mutual contact as you do. Evidence suggested that Loki did very little which didn't directly benefit him. He had likely saved her life to avoid losing his own. Loki was using her as a painkiller: he snuck in and out of her dreams so stealthily that she was never aware of his presence. She meant nothing to him. He had made that crystal, cruelly clear.
oooOOOooo
ESRL, Boulder, Colorado: Thor
It hurt to breathe.
Before Darcy broke her silence, broke the news, broke his heart—before, he'd believed they would find Jane. They had to. He would find her, he would rescue her, and he would never let her out of his sight again.
Now he mourned. Darcy was convinced Jane was alive. But whether Jane was alive or dead, wherever she was, she was forever out of his reach. Darcy had pleaded with him...
"Thor, she didn't know any of it was real until it was way too late. She had no idea the mystery man in her dreams was an actual being, let alone that he was Loki. Don't you understand?"
He wanted to understand. But it was beyond him.
"Why didn't Jane come to me for help? I would have done anything to make this right."
"Is there a way to undo the bond? Could you have fixed it?"
"No—I don't know. But I would have hunted Loki down and made him pay."
"Yeah, I know. She knew that, too. And that's why she couldn't tell you. She and I were pretty sure Loki did this to get your attention. He wanted to start a war."
"He has."
Every heartbeat tore his chest. Every breath was fire.
oooOOOooo
Sarah's place: Loki
It was just as well both he and Jane would probably die in the near future. It was just as well he would never be welcome again in Asgard; just as well Jane had little hope of a reunion with Thor.
Thor would undoubtedly secure one of Idunn's apples for Jane, which meant Loki could spend the next few millennia as Jane Foster's brother-in-law. That would be awkward, to say the least.
Could he refrain from staring at his brother's mate, reliving the raw bliss of curling himself around her delicate form? Was it possible to forget how her silken skin had slaked his agony? Would he be able to resist finding excuses to touch her, testing to see if the magic still held?
He'd be driven to distraction wondering if Thor appreciated her keen mind, if Thor understood the whispers of their unborn children. For there were certain to be more babies; Thor would want a son, many sons. He would want to be surrounded by miniature versions of himself. And each time Jane grew round with new life, Loki would be galled by memories of these fleeting days when she was his only solace, when she was his to hold, when she was his...
"Uff...Loki?" Jane's sleep-husky whisper shot electrical awareness through his veins. He cursed himself a million ways: in his asinine musings, he had tightened his grip on her. He kept silent and still; she slipped further back into slumber.
Yes, it was just as well...
oooOOOooo
Day 258
Vancouver, British Columbia: Jane
There. A whole car load of groceries, all unloaded and put away. She'd learned her lesson. During that hellish week, she'd had little appetite, but the pantry had also been bare. The future was precarious. While she had energy, she would take care of herself and her child.
A strong nudge from Alie felt like encouragement. Chuckling, she patted her belly. "How about some tea? Rooibos?"
Water in the kettle, burner on, favorite mug, a bag of organic tea...a few minutes later, Jane relaxed at the kitchen table. The tea was hot and strong, the ceramic mug smooth to the touch. She glanced around the kitchen. The harvest gold fridge door was slightly crooked. Spidery cracks marked the upper corner of the wall above the living room door. Faded woven rugs padded and warmed the floor. The wood of the table was aged smooth and shiny. She saw everything for the first time.
"I've been in a fog, baby. I've just been living in my head. I'll try to do better, okay?"
oooOOOooo
Day 259
ESRL, Boulder, Colorado: Thor
Thor mourns for his brother, too, how far he's drifted from those childhood days when they ran around the palace, rescuing each other from one misadventure after another. Not for the first time, he wished the All-Father had not kept so many secrets. Perhaps fate was fate, but could a different path have been plotted?
Loki intended to possess the Tesseract. That was evidence of a lust for power, not surprising in one whose natural inclination to rule had been thwarted. Possessing Jane Foster, however, was deeply personal, intended to inflict pain on him. It was Loki's declaration that their relationship was severed. Thor wouldn't hesitate to wring the life out of Loki, but he feels that loss keenly.
There's one thing he can't quite work out, though. Thor knows he's not a genius, but he isn't dull-witted, either, and this one has him stumped:
How did Loki fool the rune magic?
Was revenge was enough of a motivation, enough passion, enough commitment, to create the bond? Loki is very skilled, perhaps skilled enough to trick the ancient incantation. Thor hopes that is the answer.
Because the alternative—and it was truly hard to form this idea—was that Loki didn't find a way around the requirements of the bond spell, but had fulfilled them.
oooOOOooo
Day 260
Sarah's place: Jane
Funny, Jane thought. She hadn't been aware of Loki's presence, but she was acutely aware of his absence. Rest eluded her. It doesn't matter, she told herself. One night isn't a big deal. We'll be fine.
We're fine, she repeated while her heart thumped and she wheezed a breath. We're fine. The rune brand burned. Was someone squeezing her head in a vice?
Jane's eyes shot open. This was her bedroom, with the washed-out floral wallpaper and the pink low-pile carpeting. All looked normal and quiet; no strange sounds or sights. But she felt nauseated. Something was wrong. They were not fine. Breathe, Jane. Think. Calm down. She needed Loki. He would know what to do. But she'd never tried to find him before. He just showed up.
Could she find him? More to the point, should she? No. Leave it, Foster. It's foolish to be dependent on Loki. You can handle this. Her heart rate slowed. She drew deep, cleansing breaths. Breathe in...two...three...four, hold...hold, breath out...two...three...four. Good. See? We don't need him.
Jane smiled, confident in her choice, a beat before a wave of horror engulfed her. Her heart accelerated crazily; she couldn't take a full breath; her stomach churned; the hair on her arms stood on end. What was happening?
Clutching her belly—was she protecting or being protected?—Jane begged, "Alie? Alie, sweetie, I don't...this is crazy. But can you help me find him?" Asking the question lowered her blood pressure. She closed her eyes again and willed herself to relax, to sleep. Slow, deep, breaths. The pressure in her head loosened.
Gradually the atmosphere morphed; the darkness grew denser, oily. Muffled groans and sobs floated in the background. A faint acrid smell burned her nostrils. The walls thickened and twisted into stone, the ceiling lowered. Dim yellow light came from torches mounted on the walls; it was neither fire nor electricity. Jane strained in the murkiness, but could make out only vague shapes. The brand on her wrist tingled. Loki had to be near. At least she hoped he was near. They hadn't parted on good terms two weeks ago, but she preferred him to whatever else might be creeping in the shadows.
"Loki?" she whispered. Dream or no dream, it didn't seem wise to draw attention to herself. Against the wall, a small movement came from what she had thought was a pile of stones. She stepped gingerly over unidentified puddles and cracks in the dirt floor, then crouched down next to the tangle of limbs.
"Loki?" she repeated quietly. What if it wasn't him? Then again, what if it was him?
"No," came a plaintive, grating moan. "No. You...shouldn't be...here."
Thank God. "I had to find you." Technically, she hadn't found him yet. The darkness wasn't just an absence of light; it was a thing itself. Even with the torches, she could barely tell that the mass in front of her was a living being.
"Leave, please," he gasped. "I don't want...you to see."
His voice gave him away; he was in bad shape. She suspected that the panic and terror she'd felt had been coming from him. Swallowing her unease, she whispered, "This is exactly where I need to be. What can I do?"
"Go...away."
Jane was afraid of fumbling in the darkness and making his pain worse. And she was wary of him; what if he turned on her again?
"Jane."
"I'm not leaving. Let me help, just as you've helped me. Let me touch you, Loki."
"It's not...safe," he ground out. But he shifted—a tactical error!—and she swiftly reached out to grasp the moving limb. It was his upper arm, bare and covered in some slick liquid.
"No!" Loki protested in a furious whisper. He half-sat and twisted his upper body, trying to shake her off; the movement instead allowed her to slip behind him. She leaned against the stone wall and cradled his upper body.
"Jane, no! You'll be—" He went rigid, his considerable weight pressing into her. Was he going to say I'd be crushed? Ugh. I should have listened. Then, suddenly he was boneless, his head lolling to the side.
Panic speared her. Is he dead? No, his heart still beat under her hand. Directly under her hand, in fact. She was touching skin. He wasn't even wearing a tunic. Her eyes strained in the weird light-dark, but it was probably for the best that she couldn't tell whether he wore breeches or not. Concentrate. Does he have any obvious open wounds?
Jane skimmed her hand over his upper body. Her mind gathered data and triaged it rapidly. First, to her relief, he was breathing regularly and his heart was steady. Second, there were no gaping wounds, though there were multiple minor cuts on his chest and arms oozing blood.
Third, ridges covered his upper body. She had touched his bare chest once before—best not to dwell on that memory—and there'd been no markings like that. In this strange atmosphere she could not tell that he was blue, but he must be Jotun again.
Fourth, he was cut. Long and lean, his biceps, chest, and abs were sharply defined. Jane chided herself for even noticing. This isn't important. Some animal part of her brain whispered back, "Oh, but it is..." She grit her teeth. Loki was in this awful place—he'd been terribly abused, and she was thinking about how hot he was. Geez Louise, Jane. Creepy much?
She allowed herself to study his face. That wasn't too much of a violation, was it? She'd never seen Loki unguarded like this. Other than the half-moon markings on his forehead and cheeks, he looked like himself. His eyelashes were still long and lush. His nose was straight and patrician. His cheekbones could slice steel like butter. And his lips... Back to the Jotun markings. The lines on his forehead looked like a diadem. He was Laufeyson, she remembered with a start, the rightful king of Jotunheim. Jane rolled her eyes. No wonder he was terminally arrogant: royalty was literally engraved on his skin.
Skin which she ached to explore, though, and not just as a scientist. Her hand actually twitched, so strong was the desire. What is your deal, Jane? She had done so well thinking of him as Loki, not as Kai. Any residual feelings for Kai had been compartmentalized and deliberately squashed. She was a strong, independent woman. Who was being turned to a puddle of hormones by an unresponsive, blood-covered man in a disgusting place of fear, torture, and death. Nice.
Jane glanced back at Loki, right into red eyes. "Oh!" she cried softly in surprise.
"Did I hurt you?"
Jane shook her head. "You're not that heavy."
"I meant—did I burn you?"
She merely shook her head again. That shade of red—was it crimson? Perhaps it was more vermilion—no, ruby. Definitely ruby.
Several seconds passed before Loki broke eye contact. He pushed himself up and turned toward her. "Show me your bare skin."
Jane blinked. "I'm sorry...what?"
"Your hands, your arms—whatever unprotected skin you have," he said impatiently. "You likely have frostbite."
She obeyed, stretching her arms out palms down, even while she said, "I would have felt it."
He ignored her. "Turn them over," he said.
She did. He took longer to inspect the tender skin of her inner arm, but he must have been satisfied, because he closed his eyes and rested his head on the wall. "It's a dream," he said. "Of course you wouldn't get frostbite in a dream."
Jane shrugged, though he couldn't see her. She could see him better now—a trick of the dream, perhaps—and she marveled at the stark beauty of the Jotun. His ebony hair suited the shade of his skin, which she decided was somewhere between cornflower and periwinkle blue. She also decided not to mention those color names to him. The marks and ridges on his chest complemented those on his face. It was obviously just scientific curiosity (obviously), but she couldn't tear her eyes off him.
Again, without warning, his eyes were staring at her. She jumped, and he scoffed. "Have you had your fill of the monster, Dr. Foster?"
"What? No! I mean—" she fumbled, cheeks warming.
"Leave," he interrupted. "I believe you've served your purpose this evening. Be gone," he said coldly, and closed his eyes again.
Anger spiked her blood. She opened her mouth to tell him off, but some remote bundle of neurons in her brain finished a calculation she hadn't known was in process: Loki did this every time. Every time they found a way to co-exist, every time the tone of their conversation eased away from acidic, every time they got anywhere close to comfortable with each other, Loki would push her away, bait her, insult her. And she reacted. Every. Time. So predictable. And I'd thought I'd been in a dysfunctional relationship before.
She blinked, startled by the thought. Was this a relationship? This ultra-bizarre state in which she and Loki were entangled, mostly against their wills? They were co-parents, though he didn't believe her. The moment of their baby's conception was the only time she'd ever seen him outside of a dream, though she hadn't known it. A brand was seared into her skin. According to Thor, this signified an eternal bond. Loki confirmed it was his rune, though he claimed it must be fake. They couldn't take being apart for any length of time, though they couldn't tolerate each other for very long. An unexpected bubble of slightly hysterical laughter escaped her.
Loki's eyes opened, though he didn't deign to look at her. "Jane Foster. For one of your intellect, you seem to be particularly obtuse this evening. You are no longer welcome here."
Since she'd heard that one definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome, Jane took a gamble and did something different. "Thank you for saving my—our—lives. I haven't had the opportunity to say that yet."
"Why do you assume I did anything?"
She hid her grin by ducking her head, as if she was feeling shy. Yep, predictable. "Just...thank you, Loki."
