chapter 36

Medical Examiner's Office - Los Angeles, California

Detective Crespin was in the back alley smoking. He usually tried to avoid his habit at active crime scenes, but he needed to calm the tremor. He'd seen plenty of awful things on the beat, fifteen years and counting, but this...this horror he couldn't wrap his head around. There were eight dead and they were running with the assumption of multiple assailants, but the evidence was starting to point to just one. He raked his hand over his thinning red hair, realizing messing the carefully styled comb-over wasn't wise, but he wasn't exactly entering a beauty pageant. The investigation was going to land him in front of the department shrink, but for once he contended that it was probably a good thing. It was one man...he just couldn't understand.

"Detective Crespin?" someone called as the heavy metal backdoor creaked open.

He was hoping for good news as he put out the cigarette. An officer made a beeline for him, drawn to the glow of the lit end. It was the only giveaway that he was perched in the shadows. They proceeded to carry on a conversation in the dark.

"Yeah, what's up?" he called as he headed to meet the officer and his foot sloshed in a murky puddle of stagnant water.

He cringed as wetness seeped across his toes. It probably had a gnarly odor too. He worried about the smell of raw garbage that was bound to follow him all night. Of course competing with the lingering smoke that clung to his clothes and skin was perhaps impossible.

"The forensic unit just informed me that we've got video," the officer stated as his silhouetted form glanced down at Detective Crespin's soaked shoe.

Detective Crespin let out a laugh, already forgetting his stroke of bad luck, but it transitioned into the inevitable smokers cough, "Ah, that's the best news I've heard all day. You sure?"

"Positive. The security guard was killed in the vicinity so they still need to process the evidence before they can release it, but it looks like the equipment is all intact."

"Have we been able to determine the camera locations?"

"Yeah, one on the entrance and two on the rear loading dock."

Detective Crespin cracked a smile even though he knew it was too soon to celebrate. They didn't know the video quality and they didn't know if their perp had shown his face. There were enough loose ends left to derail their lead. He just hoped he was being cynical.

"Hey," Detective Crespin called before the officer disappeared back into the building, "You know much about S.H.I.E.L.D?"

"Not really, but I went to a training seminar up in Washington. Guy I was partnered with had a run-in with them. I think they commandeered his case. He said things got pretty weird."

"That's what I was afraid of," he grumbled before he stalled the officer's departure for a second time, "Say has anyone been able to track down that hand?"

"The one you got a call about? Well, the log shows an arm was dropped off, but we haven't been able to locate the cadaver. You thinking there might be a robbery angle?"

"No, I'm thinking there's a S.H.I.E.L.D angle and this isn't going to end well."

"Oh..." the officer remarked as he went back to his duties.

Detective Crespin had apparently spoiled both their moods. With a frustrated growl he dug into his coat pocket and produced another cigarette. Of all the cases...this one had to end up in his lap.

S.H.I.E.L.D Helicarrier - Portland, Oregon No-Fly Zone Perimeter

Loki had deserved the brash treatment; after all, he'd dealt out his own. He was trying desperately to return to the beginning and it was a statement that rang true beyond the bounds of that moment. For the first time he was struck with the realization that perhaps the beginning wasn't better. He leaned his forehead against the cool metal door and closed his eyes. He was lingering and he wasn't entirely sure why. It was then that he heard it, a faint sniffle that could only be accompanied by tears. Had his stinging remarks at last pushed too far? Did he care?

"Karissa..." he began, but paused as the sound of her name from his lips seemed strange.

"Loki, please, I know you can't sleep, but some of us can," she bid him to leave, but still he couldn't.

It may have been her intention to sleep, but it wasn't what she was doing as she cried near the door. He was prepared to press further, but then he remembered he wasn't one to play these sorts of games. With a deep breath he suddenly appeared on the other side.

"Loki!" she exclaimed in a fleeting show of fright as she tossed something in his direction, frustrated by his intrusion.

He shuffled to the side, barely dodging it, as his eyes eventually traced back to her. They remained in silence, staring each other down, though Loki had the advantage of appearing more menacing in a standing position. First his bottom lip began to quiver and he locked his jaw in an attempt to stop it, but the glimmer transferred to his eyes. Unable to contain himself he burst out laughing.

"Did you just throw a shoe at me?" he managed to inquire as he passed a glance back to the skewed sandal lying in the middle of the floor.

She appeared wide-eyed and internally fuming for a minute before venturing to answer.

"Yes. Maybe..." she mumbled back, but as his laughter continued her glare began to falter, "You can't just barge in here. I told you to go away."

"So you threw a shoe at me? Are we reverting back to childhood antics?" he inquired with a grin, "I must say that's new. As I Prince of Asgard I think I should be offended."

"Yes, I did and you can be offended if you like. I also happen to have another one," she threatened as her serious demeanor broke and she finally smiled, "You can be so infuriatingly persistent..."

"Thank you," he grinned and she shook her head, clearly not intending it as a compliment.

They faded again into the awkward lull between conversations. Loki took a moment to discretely study her and, though it was apparent she had been crying, her now calm demeanor would quickly erase all trace.

"What do you want Loki? You've already determined my report has been censored. There's also a ship full of people to converse with until your body overrides your listlessness. Perhaps Thor could keep you company?"

Loki briefly chuckled at the suggestion because the truth was he had no desire to talk to any of them and his brother least of all. Being in Thor's company would no doubt foray into matters best left to memory as their brief interaction had already done. Instead of replying he took a seat beside her, stretching his legs out and pressing his back against the wall. She stared at him, face unreadable, before she apparently reconciled with the fact that he was there to stay, at least for a time.

"Are those tears because of me?" he eventually inquired and despite his hushed tone it still sounded loud in the tiny room, though perhaps the resonance was imbued in his unexplainable concern.

He felt her gaze shift to him again, though this time it was his face that remained stoic as his eyes fixed on the far wall. He realized for no particular reason he dreaded her answer.

"No," she finally replied and he let out a breath he'd been curiously holding.

"Are they for him?" he abruptly asked without pausing to consider the ramifications.

"No..." she quietly whispered and part of him didn't believe her.

When it was clear she intended to offer no further explanation he let out a faint groan of annoyance, "Why am I always left to pine for answers?"

"Because sharing them with you is frightening," she admitted and he passed her a confused sideways glance, "Will you welcome them or will you belittle them? You are capable of doing both."

He was left speechless, which was a rare occurrence. The longer he processed it the further he fell into an uncomfortable nether region of his thoughts. He didn't like it there so he steered the conversation elsewhere.

"What prompted the tears then?"

"A lost life," she finally lamented, perhaps offering an answer because it was apparent he wasn't going to let it be.

"Pteloma?" he puzzled, hoping she wasn't heartbroken because that incessant woman was dead.

"What? No," she briefly laughed, but then the humor turned somber, "Mine."

With a deep breath she suddenly leaned her head on his shoulder. She wasn't wrong. She had twice been driven from her home. Olympus may have been troubled, but it was still her realm. He could relate to torn allegiances. He didn't want to return to Asgard, for his punishment had not been absolved, but that didn't mean he wouldn't miss it.

"Oh..." he softly acknowledged and as they sat he finally said something that had been troubling him since their return, "This is going to get far worse."

"I know," she yawned, but the way she said it there was some implicit meaning he was missing.

"Well, how fortunate you are to not be worried..."

"Un-hun..." she mumbled.

"...because I find myself toying with the idea of joining the other side, perhaps engaging in a little destruction of my own."

"Yeah..." she continued as she dozed off, oblivious to his jest.

"What are you doing to me?" he whispered.

She stirred for a moment and his green eyes widened, afraid that she may have heard, but as she nuzzled against his shoulder she once again fell still.

[] [] []

Thor was resting on his back as he stared up at the darkness. It was the first time in recent memory that he found himself unable to sleep. Too many things plagued his waking thoughts. Jane was one of them, but he was too confounded by their situation to ponder a resolution. He was also troubled by the exchange with his brother. Each word out of Loki's mouth was exactly what Thor expected and that was the problem. Loki was never one to respond as he should or at least not as Thor assumed he should. The fact that he was, well, it was puzzling. Suddenly a knock rang out at his door and he realized just how exhausted he was, having trouble finding the wherewithal to get up.

"A moment," he called as he sat at the edge of the bed.

With a deep breath he stood and pulled open the door. To his surprise it was Jane and as she studied him her eyes widened. Thor swallowed hard, realizing in his haste he'd forgotten to put on a shirt.

"Ah...a moment more..." he stated as he quickly receded back into his room.

Finding his thin white undergarment he slid it on as Jane nonchalantly breeched his room. Her eyes strayed elsewhere and he was left to wonder if ire still burned in them. She had every right to be angry. He hadn't realized until the confrontation in Fury's office that he had crossed a line, though his intention had always been to protect her.

He was about to apologize for interfering, but Jane stopped him, "I have something to say and you need to let me say it."

Closing his mouth he crossed his arms and gave her his full attention. In his chest he could feel the warmth of anticipation. Whatever profound statement she had to make at the eve of a new day was bound to change their relationship forever. As with most change it had to happen, good or bad, and he would be left this night in the aftermath.

"I'm still mad at you for imposing on my work, but it's hardly worth discussing in light of the real problem," Jane began and it saddened him to see her delicate features so conflicted, "I waited for two years. I don't know how and I'm questioning why, but I did. I waited two years for you. I see now that I was waiting for a memory because I was too afraid to let my life begin. I envisioned it beginning with you, but I don't think that's possible," she closed her eyes as if the words pained her, "I want normal. I know I won't get it because of the life I lead, but I want some semblance of it. I want to go to the movies. I want to sit on the couch and talk about work. I want to lounge in bed and forget about work. I want a slew of things that I don't think you can give me."

"You want me to court you?" Thor questioned, "Did you think that I would not?"

"No. I don't doubt that Thor, but when this is over I know that you're going to leave again. You have to. Asgard will always pull you back and it should because it's your home. But I can't wait two more years. I won't wait two more years. Please don't ask me to."

"Yes," he acknowledged her dilemma, "I must return to make amends with my Father, but I will return."

Jane flashed a kind smile and he realized his declaration had merely solidified her point. She hitched up on her toes and planted a gentle kiss on Thor's cheek. He closed his eyes at the intimate gesture.

"I'm sure you will," she smiled again as she backed away and it was clear she was trying to keep her composure, "But I have to be honest with myself and with you. After two more years I won't still be waiting."

He reached out and slid his hand across her jaw, "I know. That wouldn't be fair. But at least wait for a moment longer."

"Moments are fleeting," Jane remarked.

"As is love..." Thor stated with a shrug as he withdrew his hand, "But sometimes it stays."

Suddenly Sif appeared in the open door with an eager expression, but upon her intrusion her sentiment faded, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to impose..."

"It's fine..." Thor and Jane both spoke in unison.

"It is fine," he repeated as he tried to force a smile while his eyes followed Jane as she walked out of the room, "It is usually I that imposes upon you. What brings you to my door?"

He realized she was also observing Jane as she walked away and as she turned back her lips pursed in tandem with her dropping shoulders, "Nothing. I came to inquire after you. You struck out to battle on your own and then quietly returned. I feel as if something might be wrong? Forgive me if I've overstepped..."

"Forgive you?" Thor laughed, "Since when do you shy away from your ever vigilant opinions?"

"I...I found myself at odds over how to address my concern."

"Yes, are we not all at odds?" he asked and Sif seemed confused.

He hardly desired to burden her with his plights, but she was there at a time when no one else was. As was usually the case, though he was never certain why.

"Honestly," he began as he knotted his hands, a nervous gesture he hadn't done since childhood, "My heart beats for a warrior's path. I wish to stand in the face of great odds for those who cannot. I struggle because it is a cause that father gifted to me through banishment, yet he means to sway my attempts to pursue it in lieu of my taking the throne."

"He does not push you towards it. The throne of Asgard has always been yours. If you do not take it all of Asgard will be thrown into chaos."

"Will it?" Thor pondered, "There are plenty who would claim it. Besides, I suspect someone else would be more suitable for the honor."

"Who?" Sif drove to the point, as she usually did.

"Part of me still hopes that Loki..."

"Loki?" Sif interrupted in shocked exclamation, "He is trouble. He always has been. Recent events have merely thrust that truth into the light. Under his rule Asgard would topple into ruin."

"Would it?" Thor questioned and even he was surprised by the ease with which he responded in his brother's defense, "He is the one who has poured over books, gleaming knowledge from other realms. He is the one versed in words, the very weapon with which politics revolve."

"Yes, he is those things, but he has transformed into something more. You know this too. You defeated his attempt to subjugate Midgard..."

"Did I? Part of me questions if he was really trying..."

"Thor, this is foolishness."

"Is it?" he pondered, knowing he stood no chance of swaying her resolve, "Something has long concerned me. Even now Loki weaves the groundwork for his own agenda behind a mask. I am not completely blind to his trickery, but I recognize another truth. It is a mask that we gave him. Somewhere beneath it is the real Loki and one way or another I aim to look him in the eyes. I do not imply that the man he hides is good, but I must hold onto the hope that he is. I fear that fleeting optimism is the only thing that holds me up in the face of this trying time."

"If you are looking for a shoulder," Sif began, but paused, seemingly unsure, "I can give you that shoulder."

"It is a grave burden. I could not ask that of you."

"You wouldn't have to..."

His stomach knotted. There had been truth to his vision when he crashed to the forest floor and fell into dreams.

I never ask, his voice replayed the startling conversation his subconscious mind had conjured.

You never have to, Loki's stinging reply echoed back.

"I fear sleep beacons me," Thor abruptly stated, completely ignoring their exchange as he offered a bow of his head, "Goodnight Lady Sif."

Her eyes fixated on him, unblinking, as she tried to forge a smile, "Goodnight Thor."

He closed the door upon her departure and stood alone in the darkness, tormented by things he didn't understand.

Cytinus Inn & Tavern - Olympus

Nikolaos came to with a throbbing headache. He clamored up, but rose too fast, plopping to the floor to subdue the rush. He wasn't entirely sure what happened, but he was fairly certain Athos had slammed his forehead forward in an attempt to escape. He reached up to feel his nose and let out a pained groan as he realized it was badly bruised, even possibly broken. It hurt too much to investigate and without a looking glass he couldn't see it. His eyes traced to the toppled wooden chair draped with rope. He knew swiping it from the stables had been unwise. Not knowing how long it had been there he'd taken it anyway. He ran his fingers over a frayed edge as he finally managed to stand. It was proof that the stale cord had been there long enough to be his undoing. He let out a frustrated growl as he tossed it against the far wall. It shook the floorboards, but he didn't care. Let the world wake to his growing anger.

He knew then what needed to be done, though he didn't like it. He couldn't let a meager man from the House of Hermes be his undoing. They may have claimed a modest friendship, but it had fallen to the past. There were no lengths he wouldn't go to in the effort to preserve his standing. He had to inform the council of Athos. He needed their help to quell him.

As he marched downstairs the tavern owner stormed after him. The vibrant woman had hardly believed his tale of a drunken friend as he tried to explain Athos' unconscious state upon their arrival. It didn't matter though, she was too lowly to question him. He had coin and that was all that mattered.

"What's the meaning of all that racket?" she demanded, but he was out the door before she could nag him further.

He stared out at the horizon wondering where Athos had gone. It was inconsequential though because there was nowhere he could hide. The council's reach was far.

Asgardian Dungeons - Asgard

Rozen sat huddled in the corner of the white room still clutching onto the tome. The Asgardians had tried to take it from him, but he refused to let it go. After they tossed him into the large cell he'd had to endure taunting yells and vulgar insults from the other prisoners confined in this awful place. Everything was hot and bright. He just wanted to go home. Suddenly loud footsteps echoed down the hall and someone eventually came to stand in front of his enclosure. Rozen slowly stared up at the man in bronze armor. His amber eyes set strangely against his dark skin.

"Have none of you seen an ice elf? They have no quarrel with us," his voice boomed and those who followed him seemed to offer only shrugs, "What is your name?"

Rozen sat defiant as he looked away. He would not converse with these monsters.

"My aim is to help you," the Asgardian quickly stated, "So please, tell me your name."

"Rozen, seeker of ice crystals..." he reluctantly supplied.

"Were you on Jotunheim?"

"Aye...seeking ice crystals...until your Queen awoke the sleeping beasts."

"The Frost Giants?"

"Mmmm...With Farbauti among them, yes."

"And you were helping our Queen?"

"I tried...of all the trouble that's cost me though, I don't see why..."

"Yes, I apologize. We are not accustomed to strangers in our lands."

"Of course not...your lands are icky and hot. No one should want to come here."

The Asgardian smiled, "My name is Heimdall. I have come to press upon you once more. Would you be willing to extend your help a little further?"

Rozen was cross as he huffed at the idea, "I agreed to help Frigga, Queen of Asgard. I stand by my word."

"Am I to take that as a yes?" Heimdall inquired.

"You may take it as you wish until you tell me what it is you wish of me," Rozen cryptically replied.

S.H.I.E.L.D Research Facility 9 - Mojave Desert - California

Dr. Ayaan Malik had dozed off, awaking to a sudden outburst from Dr. Eli Kresge and nursing a serious crick in her neck. He was still talking through a series of research scenarios and, though she had been awake for the beginning of his engrossing conversation, it was very much a conversation he was having with himself.

"Finding a balance between the type of current and the quantity of current may disrupt the technological aspects of the specimen without any adverse effects on the tissue."

"Yes..." Ayaan mumbled as she lifted her head from a pooling of her black hair and tried to swipe the strands stuck to her cheek.

She had long lost sight of his vision, but she approved of preserving the living entity, of course with their generic terms they were overlooking the fact that Agent Coulson, or some version of him, was actually the entity.

"But if the systems are truly integrated and codependent destroying one may, in all actuality, destroy the other. Though the aim of the current could actually be to short circuit the system forcing a reboot of sorts to the primary functions..."

"Don't computers return to their factory settings?" Ayaan asked, trying to wrap her head around a subject she wasn't familiar with.

Dr. Kresge suddenly looked at her, as if he'd just realized she was part of the conversation too, "Yes, so to speak, that would likely be the resultant."

"And what are Agent Coulson's factory settings?" Ayaan inquired, alarmed by the possible indication that he could revert to a child-like mental state.

"Right. That's not really what concerns me."

"Really? That should be of extreme concern," Ayaan began an impassioned plea.

"Well, you're jumping to a conclusion that perhaps we shouldn't yet make."

"Am I? And what might that be?"

"You're assuming Agent Coulson would be reset...I'm worried about the thing that made him resetting..."

Her fervor subsided as they both stared at each other, held between a state of uncertainty and dread. Some things were best left alone and this project was very much one of them. She believed, exceedingly so, through her experiences with medicine that there were some fates worse than death and she feared Agent Coulson had been introduced to such a fate.

Landing Site - Mount Hood National Forest - Oregon

The creatures were still springing forth, slowly binding with the latent energy in the air. The others, already given form, sulked around their cage hurling tormented cries and carnal yells to the starry sky. The shimmering creature of water, however, traced the line of the shield. Moving with a serpent-like precision along the edge. Suddenly it stopped and for a moment it held the shape of a lumbering figure, but quickly it splashed to a puddle. The liquid sat on the burnt soil, but slowly began to trickle down. On the other side a tiny spring bubbled forth, a gentle flow that ran through the mossy growth and disintegrating pine needles into the forest just beyond.

Fort Hood - Killeen, Texas

General Ivan Tasker was walking the empty grass concourse between the administrative offices. He was enjoying the cool night air, offering a brief relief from the scorching daytime temperatures. He'd just left a meeting about the silver orb, though mainly he found it a riveting statement on S.H.I.E.L.D and their total loss of control with regards to the situation. The absurdly named agency was once again reaching out, trying to remobilize as a rush call to detonate an EMP shot them in the foot. They had limited eyes and given their rush it was apparent that they were anticipating further trouble. He was part of the remobilization coming in from several bases in the area. He was taking the lead to reestablish the military presence in Portland, but certain parties felt it necessary to task him with a secondary mission. There was an ongoing threat on their soil and he would not stand idly by while it unfolded, accordingly he hadn't been asked to. He was the failsafe, authorized to respond with appropriate force if S.H.I.E.L.D failed to deliver.

There was a growing movement that questioned S.H.I.E.L.D behind the privacy of closed doors. Project oversight, additional transparency, the list could go on with varying concerns. It all boiled down to a single problem, one agency had garnered too much power. Director Fury had established a team of superheroes. He had overseen the collection of alien artifacts from the failed invasion of New York. He had access to a deep thread of intelligence on every government agency and official spanning the globe. People were beginning to take notice and those same people were beginning to get nervous.

He held no ill will towards the man, after all, he'd never had the pleasure of meeting him, but he understood the inherit problem. They were at war with beings from places they didn't even know existed. There was an impending threat and S.H.I.E.L.D stood as the sole answer to that threat. If that agency failed, well, that wasn't really an option. Of course that wouldn't prevent it from occurring.

"Sir," the private saluted as he reached the Humvee waiting at the edge of the tarmac.

"At ease," he stated as the private opened the vehicle door.

General Tasker climbed in and eyed the fleet of planes in the distance, several of them had already taken to the skies.

"Did the hangar personnel receive my request?" he asked as the engine rumbled to life.

"Yes, sir, but none of the items were part of the S.H.I.E.L.D request. It caused some confusion on the loading end, but they managed to make it onto a transport ship."

"That's because S.H.I.E.L.D isn't requesting them," he quickly stated, "I am. Now step on it. I want feet on the ground before dawn."

Mount Olympus - Olympus

Pteloma was crawling feebly in the dark. The pain that racked her body had long subsided to a dull throbbing, a numb nothing that didn't bode well for her survival. She was descending deeper into the void, a jagged crack that cut through the cool gray rock of Mount Olympus. Her fear drove her because stopping would welcome sleep and somewhere inside she knew it would take hold of her forever. Suddenly up ahead she saw a strange shimmer. It gave her focus, if for however briefly.

Oh, Ares, grant me your boldness in the face of death, she recited a battle hymn in her head as she pressed forward, present me with the fierce and untamed power that beset you into battle.

The dim light cast from the unknown source shed upon a thin ledge, a dead end hanging over a long shaft that drove upwards and downwards father than she could see. Inside it was a torrent of glimmering black, spinning wildly within an invisible barrier. Suddenly the sound of a thousand angry cries echoed in a deafening chorus and Pteloma screamed as the madness of it consumed her senses.

"Free us..." a pleasant chorus suddenly cut through the noise and it was oddly reminiscent, though she could not place it.

She wordlessly opened her mouth, unable to convey any sort of answer because she didn't understand what was happening.

"Free us!" the chorus drew sinister and she recalled with clarity what it reminded her of.

The melodious call of the council, bidding her to act. She stared at it even more confounded. For some reason she reached out, but as she did her hand passed through a searing barrier and she let out a scream as the appendage vanished. Blood trickled from the stump and the chorus turned to menacing laughter. She swayed. The new trauma was too much for her body to bear. Suddenly she fainted, falling forward through the invisible energy and exploding into a cloud of fine black dust.