chapter 38

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

Lieutenant Paul Bradford had been a guest on the helicarrier for long enough. With the military re-establishing its presence in Portland he received orders to return. The flight was ready and they were waiting on the final passengers, which had been vaguely disclosed as a prisoner transport. The late arrivals seemed to be taking their sweet time though. He usually wasn't a stickler, but punctuality was a virtue he respected.

"Please stop this..." a woman's voice appealed and it was soon followed by a huffed groan.

He passed a curious glance to the rest of the crew, receiving only a handful of shrugs in reply. When no one else seemed keen to investigate he stood and exited the aircraft. He scanned the horizon, mostly noting the line of clouds in the distance. They stopped, however, at the access corridor to the helicarrier landing platform. A S.H.I.E.L.D agent was attempting to drag a maintenance officer who was lying on the floor. He quickly walked towards them trying to determine if there was some sort of emergency.

"Do you need any help?" he called as he approached.

The S.H.I.E.L.D agent turned and he instantly recognized her, "Yes, I can't get her to move again. She keeps sitting down..."

"Sounds like my nephews when they throw a temper tantrum," he smiled, but his expression turned stern as he stared down at the handcuffed woman who refused to cooperate, "Now we can do this one of two ways. You can walk onto that plane and take a seat where you like or I can throw you over my shoulder and secure you with the transport crates. I'll give you to the count of three."

The disheveled woman didn't seem impressed by his threat as she glared up at him, "I am a member of the press and I have been detained without any formal charges..."

"Right...Three," he quickly declared as he picked her up and slung her over his shoulder, trying to balance her as she kicked and screamed.

"Thank you," the S.H.I.E.L.D agent mouthed as she straightened her dress suit.

While the circumstances weren't pleasant, there was something nice about a familiar face. He'd been initially called out on a volunteer basis to sweep for survivors after the first base camp was destroyed and then joined the EMP delivery team under a similar volunteer status. Each mission brought a new catalog of faces, but somehow the blonde S.H.I.E.L.D agent continued to appear at every scene looking oddly out of place.

After they secured the prisoner in the transport area he extended his hand, "We haven't actually been introduced, though we seem to be traveling in the same circles. I'm Lieutenant Paul Bradford."

"Agent Karissa Petras," she replied with a faint smile, "Are you returning to the base?"

"Yes, I'm not with S.H.I.E.L.D so my presence here isn't necessary. I'm headed back to help operations there," he noted before posing a similar inquiry, "What are you doing here? We could have easily transported the prisoner."

She seemed dismayed by his statement, but he hadn't meant it as an insult.

"The same I suppose," she offered with a shrug.

"Well, I should warn you they aren't going to welcome help from a S.H.I.E.L.D Agent. They'll probably try to pack you on the next available transport ship back, which would be this one."

"I know," she sighed.

"But having some company for the ride over would be nice," he smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

[] [] []

Loki had once again found the solace of sleep in Karissa's company. He was thoroughly annoyed by the prospect, though part of him knew precisely why it was happening. She had no expectations of him and when she did they were far from what he assumed. There was a comfort in that fact, which he couldn't really explain, but it eased the tormented workings of his mind. It was also strangely fitting that they now shared a glimpse of each other's secrets, though he very much liked her secret better. It realistically was the most driving factor in his interest. Part of him hoped that through the course of this ordeal it would stumble to the surface, an event that was likely to occur, though perhaps with some prodding. It was a secret that had done her no great service here or there. Exposing her origin and her power would have garnered her more respect than the remedial role this realm allotted her. He halted his thoughts, as they'd focused on her, a woman who upon their first meeting he'd surmised as another pawn. It was a startling contrast to the relationship he now held with his family, a reversal of sorts, as his eyes now beseeched them as pawns where once they held adoration and respect. Odin wanted him to relinquish a role he'd been promised since his youth and when Loki didn't he wanted him hidden, the black sheep fittingly forgotten in a shadowy pit. Frigga wanted desperately for him to be part of the family, but therein was the problem. He wasn't one of them. He never would be. Then there was Thor. He was searching for something, a heroic glimmer, which Loki couldn't give him. He would always love his brother; a result of a childhood spent together, yet in his core burned a deep seeded resentment. Thor was everything he couldn't be, a shining reminder of all his shortcomings.

His eyes cast to his peripheral, regarding Thor's determined stature as he marched towards the unknown. Loki hadn't forgotten the curious, though mostly one-sided, exchange. Thor knew Loki was gravitating towards Karissa. He had also drawn certain conclusions regarding her, which Loki couldn't dissuade without engaging in a conversation he wished to avoid. The compounded coincidences of their continued company gave him away because they were too hard to ignore and Loki had been remised in not guarding them better. Of course he ventured to think Thor's outburst stemmed for elsewhere. Loki paid no interest in Thor's personal life, but even he knew a woman couldn't carry on this long without reaping some measure of attention and private affections. He was willing to bet Thor and Jane had a lovers spat and Loki had the pleasure of being entangled in it by mere extension of being present. He was very pleased that at the moment they were resigned to silence.

They entered through the large door labeled Cargo 7 and Loki cringed at the onslaught of noise they were subjected to. It was clear the Titans had reared their head, though it was sooner than Loki would have anticipated. He wondered if Karissa was curious to meet them, given they were in some ways kin, but as he caught a brief glimpse of their brutish outlines he already had his answer.

"Damn Titans, springing up like daises..." Fury stated as he turned around with his arms crossed and regarded Loki with a hint of a glare, "Where the hell are they even coming from?"

Loki's eyes gravitated towards the depiction of lumbering beasts stalking around what he assumed to be the inner confines of the orb's shield. They were colossal and based on their movements, angry as well.

It was a small blessing that the metallic creatures had already been disposed, though perhaps they would have attacked each other. It was completely possible given that the two creations were independently forged on Olympus. One the life's work of a madmen and the other a carefully crafted army. This trial run on Midgard left Loki curious for the future. Were they ultimately meant to be unleashed on Olympus? On Midgard a second time? His musings paused on another option. Perhaps Asgard was the real goal...two worlds paralleled, yet one left to flourish and the other forgotten. His gaze unintentionally fell to Thor.

"Are you happy?" Fury suddenly remarked as he pointed to the image Loki had been studying.

"I am happy," Loki responded with a faint grin, "But I'm not certain what you think the Titans have to do with it. Perhaps I slept well?"

Thor cast him a sly glance, which he did his best to ignore. If his brother was going to make boorish assumptions there was no reason not to play on them. What's more fun than chiming in on a deed, especially a deed never done?

"Slept well my ass..." Fury barked back and Loki narrowed his eyes.

"First it was my mother and now it's your buttocks...I'm not sure if I'm really supposed to take you seriously," Loki remarked and Thor, despite his best efforts, struggled to keep a smile at bay.

Fury however seemed unfazed by the comment as he proceeded with his tirade, "Part of me is still trying to figure out if this is somehow your fault."

Loki suddenly began to laugh, "Oh, how predictable. Though I consider myself capable of such things I don't think I'm daft enough to make the mistake of descending on this world with an army a second time. I would prefer to keep my fate in my own hands. If I'd stumbled upon Olympus I wouldn't have aimed them at you. I would have kept them for myself."

In his mind he finished his reasoning. He would have held it as a clean slate, a new chance at a first impression. There was something inherently freeing about shedding all that he was and reinventing himself, though realistically his ego wouldn't allow him to do such nonsense, at least not so completely. He found nothing wrong with the man he'd become, though there were definitely issues with the man he pretended to be. An existential problem he didn't want to contemplate because he knew the answer would lead to change and he wasn't ready.

"Loki..." Thor interrupted and he was surprised his brother had allowed the conversation to go on for as long as it had, though he had a free pass because of Jane, a distraction that was becoming somewhat relatable.

"What? We're having a perfectly civilized exchange of opinions," Loki shot back, "Besides, as much trouble as they've had I assumed it should be obvious that the universe seems to despise this dismal little planet."

"Well, that very fact is the only reason you're out..." Thor began.

"And the only reason I agreed to let you back on this 'dismal little planet' in the first place," Fury finished.

"Yes...as everyone keeps reminding me..." Loki remarked as his interest waned.

He glanced around the bustling room, ignoring the rest of the conversation, which no doubt focused on devising a plan. The Titans were at the moment contained, but would they stay that way? He didn't care. He might have been coaxed into feeling something of pity had they not been so quick to remind him of his situation.

"Oh, wondrous," Loki grumbled as his eyes traced to the entrance, "Thor, your dotting maidens have arrived."

Thor turned back with a raised brow to the Warriors Three and Lady Sif suspiciously eying Loki, though it was obvious Thor had spurred their arrival. The lot of them were probably eager to stand by his side in battle.

"Does that mean you find us pretty?" Fandral jested, but received a swift wallop in the stomach from Volstagg which sent him doubling over.

"Don't encourage him," Volstagg grumbled and Loki flashed a coy grin.

"Why not? We all know we're going to have to persuade him into returning with us to lift Odin's banishment and I'd much prefer it be willingly," Fandral coughed and some of the others shifted uncomfortably at the truth they'd all been keen to overlook.

"Finally admitting my magic trumps your blade?" Loki remarked, ignoring the statement on returning to Asgard because it was a dilemma that would be sorted in due time.

"Alas, no. I'll take the sturdiness of forged uru over sparkles any day," Fandral declared as he finally recovered from Volstagg's nudge.

"Perhaps circumstances will at last allow us to settle that query," Loki wryly countered and he was bemused as everyone was placed on edge, "Well, not right now..."

"What are you doing here?" Thor asked as he approached them, trying to regain some seriousness to the conversation.

"We've come to help you," Hogun stated.

"And we aren't asking," Volstagg added before Thor could foray into excuses.

"Oh good, I guess that means they can go with you and I can stay here..." Loki remarked, assuming it would go overlooked.

"No," a foray of voices replied and Loki let out a smug sigh.

[] [] []

Darcy had wandered back towards the cafeteria that morning in search of milk and fruit only to see someone suspiciously similar to Donald. The fact that they were having breakfast with Jane was totally beside the point. Although really it wasn't and now she felt bad for snapping at Luke. It probably had been Donald he'd witnessed in the hallway. She was ecstatic that he wasn't dead, but the feeling was trumped by guilt. She suddenly had an overwhelming urge to apologize and nothing would stop her from carrying it out. Except maybe finding Luke because the helicarrier was a floating city.

Luckily for her the search turned out to be surprisingly easy. The rest of the crew seemed to take notice of a random civilian wandering the halls. They stood out like a sore thumb, someone had pointed out as they directed her towards the gym. With Jane and Donald accounted for and Eric definitely not changing his stance on exercise it had to be Luke. As she walked the rows of gym equipment she started to have second thoughts because he was nowhere to be found. As she came upon a man taking a break from the bench press she figured she'd inquire further. He looked like he lived at the gym and she wasn't really sure what he was still doing there. He had muscles on his muscles and at some point it's just really okay to stop.

"Hi...Sorry to bother you. Have you seen a guy about this tall, brown eyes, brown hair, sort of dreamy, but not in a plastic 'I'm not real' sort of way, but a 'guy next door'..."

"Locker room," the man nodded in the direction of the door before quickly standing up and walking towards another piece of equipment.

"I'm not some weirdo...he's my friend..." Darcy tried to explain, but realized it was too little too late and she had indeed come off as creepy.

With a shrug she headed towards the locker room door and took a seat on a spin machine to wait. After a couple minutes of no movement she started to get impatient, which led her to pacing.

Finally in a last ditch effort Darcy gently kicked open the door, "Is anyone in here?"

She was about to call it quits when she received an answer.

"Yes," Luke called before his voice wavered, "Wait...Darcy?"

"Is anyone else in here?" she called again and when no one replied she walked inside.

She looked around the locker area, meandering to find Luke. Eventually she came upon the row of showers and noted a single one with the curtain drawn. She went over and took a seat on the long bench opposite. Luke's feet moved around beneath the edge of the shower curtain before they stopped.

"Darcy? Is that you?" he suddenly asked and he peeked his head out to pass her a disconcerting look, "What are you doing in here? Oww...oww..."

He quickly closed his eyes as some of the suds from his hair ran down into them.

"So I guess I owe you an apology..." Darcy started.

"Perhaps later, you know, when I don't have shampoo in my eyes," Luke interrupted as she heard him splashing water on his face in an attempt to wash it out, "And maybe not in the men's locker room..."

"It's just we really thought Donald was dead. I thought Donald was dead."

"Or not," Luke sighed.

"I just..." Darcy paused as the muscular man from the bench press quickly edged into the farthest shower stall and drew it closed.

"Darcy?" Luke inquired after she'd gone quiet.

"Okay...that was a butt..." Darcy exclaimed as she shielded her eyes.

It took her a moment before she felt confident enough to peek out again. She was in the men's locker room. She had just waltzed into the men's locker room like a crazy person. She was a crazy person.

"I shouldn't be in here..." she calmly stated as she realized where her determination had led her.

"Probably not," Luke amended as another man did a quick turn around upon noticing Darcy's presence.

"Yeah," Darcy blushed as she quickly stood up, "I'm going to wait outside."

"Good call," she barely heard Luke comment as she made a beeline for the door.

After a couple more minutes of waiting, which she should have done to begin with, Luke came out of the locker room. He looked nicely casual in jeans and a white shirt. She edged forward with a bit of a pout because her attempt to right a wrong had gone so wrong.

"You don't have to apologize," Luke abruptly stated as he drew her into a hug and she melted into it, "Jane is your friend. Protecting her is natural."

She smiled into his chest before glancing up. There she was met by his bloodshot eyes.

"That must have really hurt."

"No...Yes..." he amended before shrugging it off, "I'm recovering."

"Good."

"So, where to?"

"Well, not the men's locker room that's for sure," Darcy remarked as they started walking.

Unknown - California

Mareen was still furious at Calvin. She was glaring over at him from the cot opposite his. How he could sleep at a time like this was beyond her. They had been kidnapped by their government hitchhiker, driven to a secluded top secret location, been ambushed by armed guards, and now they were being detained until their kidnapper returned. It was a travesty, all of it.

Laughter suddenly erupted nearby and Mareen rolled over to stare at the armed guards from the dock. They were still hyped up on adrenaline and playing a game of cards around a small wooden table. Normally she would have complained, but they were nice enough to allow them to use their cots to get some sleep. Of course by they she meant Calvin, snoring up a storm nearby. She wasn't about to close her eyes until she was in the safety of her own home.

It was then that the front door to the cabin burst open and a scantly clad woman stood at the threshold. Mareen's eyes widened. The woman was in her negligees and it was unseemly, though it was immediately overridden by the anger in her eyes.

"Georgie?" one of the men asked who was seated at the small wooden table.

"What happened to your clothes?" the other remarked as he tried to keep a straight face.

"Laugh and I will pummel each and every one of you," she shot back as she continued to try and catch her breath, "We have a serious problem."

Georgie walked into the cabin and straight towards Mareen. It was very clear she meant business. Her pixie cut auburn hair was in a wayward mass, tangled by bits of ocean debris. She had clearly been for a swim and given the faint tremor of her muscles it had been a long one.

"And I'm going to get some answers," she threatened, "Starting with you two."

"Calvin!" Mareen called as she smacked his arm in an attempt to wake him, "Calvin! This is all your fault."

Los Angeles Police Headquarters - Los Angeles, California

Detective Crespin was just coming back from his third smoke break that morning. He was feeding his nervous habit and his wallet was going to take another hit. He'd already planned a lunchtime run to stock up on another pack, maybe two, no definitely three. This case wasn't doing him any favors.

As he walked inside he was met by an eager forensics tech unit. The guys around the department called him Sparky, a dogs name, because he was jittery like a chihuahua. As far as Detective Crespin was concerned he was Ted, an average looking guy with an above average brain. He wasn't about to jump on the bandwagon of a stupid nickname anyway.

"Hey, I've been looking for you everywhere," Ted stated with a level of excitement that bordered on deranged, but that was just his way, "You know those things will kill you."

Detective Crespin glared at Ted as he stowed away his cigarettes, "I'm pretty sure everything is killing me. Life is killing me because that's what it's supposed to do."

"Well that's pretty grim."

"I work homicide. If you want rainbows and sunshine go bother Chelsea..."

"She's on maternity leave."

"Exactly. Leave being the opportune word," Detective Crespin commented before it dawned on him how far they'd gone off track, "Why were you looking for me?"

"Oh, video tape from the morgue. You're gonna wanna see it."

"We got the perp on film?"

"Yeah," Ted laughed, "And he's a doozy."

Ted managed to fan Detective Crespin's curiosity as he quickly followed him into a video viewing room. Detective Crespin really hoped he wasn't in for a long dog and pony show. He just wanted the facts, not some grandiose performance.

"So they had a huge backlog of footage," Ted commented as he took a seat and tried to offer Detective Crespin one, but he preferred standing, "But once I got through it all I ended up with this shot."

Ted turned on the monitor and Detective Crespin stared at the perfect still image of their perp. The guy had looked directly into the camera. Detective Crespin laughed, happy to have caught such a major break. It was rare to have things line up so perfectly.

"Oh, the only way this would have been better was if it was a professional studio portrait. Great work Ted. I want his face everywhere. We need to find out who this guy is."

Ted appeared disappointed as his shoulder's dropped, "You really don't get it do you?"

"Get what?"

"Man...what bubble do you live in? Do you follow anything that's happening in the world? His face is already out there. I know who he is. You should really take up departmental offers on cross agency cooperatives."

"What? How? Do we have a leak in this office? Did you spill to some reporter?" Detective Crespin pressed, only concerned with the fact that the information wasn't exclusive.

"What? No. That's Agent Phil Coulson with S.H.I.E.L.D. He headlined last years law enforcement seminar about dealing with unexplainable phenomenon. Mostly hammering it into our heads to call S.H.I.E.L.D. I attended it. I have a picture with him hanging in my office."

"Say that again."

"Agent Phil Coulson."

"No, the other part."

"With S.H.I.E.L.D?"

"Damn it!" Detective Crespin exclaimed, recalling the discrete call from one Deputy Director Maris Hill, "She wasn't calling all willy-nilly. She was combing for information. I'd bet my pension that she knows exactly what's going on."

"She? What are you talking about?" Ted puzzled, as he wasn't apprised of the bigger picture.

"Have you shown this to anyone else?"

"No."

"Good. Keep it that way. I need to make some phone calls."

"So let me get this straight, you're asking me to keep the identity of a potential serial killer under wraps? You do know his fingerprints are everywhere right? He's going to be identified one way or another."

"I know. I just want some leverage to get me in the door."

"What door?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D's door."

Ted was about to ask another question when Detective Crespin walked out. He wasn't about to play this game. He had a picture, a very clear picture of what was going on. S.H.I.E.L.D had some rogue agent and instead of turning him in they were trying to cover it up. He didn't care how or why. He just wanted to make sure that one way or another this Agent Phil Coulson paid for his crimes.

Ice Fields - Alfheim

Rozen closed his eyes as the cool air of Alfheim washed over him. All the residual heat from Asgard immediately left his tiny body and he once again felt comfortable. Of course the feeling was instantly marred as he remembered what brought them to his homeland. The Asgardian named Heimdall wanted a Blue Spark and that was no small task. He had wanted to go to Jotunheim, but Rozen had no desire to set foot there ever again. He also didn't know where to look for the rare root on Jotunheim, only precious ice crystals.

"Can we proceed? The Queen doesn't exactly have time to spare," the looming Asgardian remarked and Rozen's eyes slowly cracked open.

"Yes, yes. We will go," Rozen grumbled.

"To get the root."

"No, to meet with the Vasra."

"I'm sorry, to do what?" Heimdall flustered, but it wasn't Rozen's fault that he'd been remised in asking about the plan.

"To meet the Vasra," Rozen repeated as he eyed his new traveling companion, "The Vasra will not like you."

"But the Vasra has never met me."

"I know," Rozen exclaimed, "And that makes it even worse."

"And we must meet with the Vasra why?"

"To ask for the Blue Spark."

"To ask for it? Why do we need to ask for it?"

"It is a sacred plant."

"Wait...what?" Heimdall exclaimed as he suddenly reached out and placed his hand on Rozen's shoulder, "What do you mean it's sacred? Is there only one?"

"Yes, they are rare."

Heimdall's jaw clenched, "Fine we will go to talk with the Vasra."

"No, no, no. Just don't talk...never talk...I'll talk..."

Without another word Rozen marched forward. It was the worst plan ever devised, but he had no other choice. His word was his word and difficulty wouldn't steer him from it.

"This is the last time Rozen will go anywhere. No more seeking ice crystals. Settle down and be an ice sculptor," Rozen mumbled as his feet pattered across the cool ice.

Bifrost - Asgard

Odin knew he had fallen into his slumber. An odd calm usually washed over him when he was held in dreams. Perhaps it was the temporary absolving of his burden, though even in his mind he contemplated it. His son's would be the death of him. They were driving him into sleep sooner than he anticipated as dealing with them proved taxing on his strength.

A deep chuckle suddenly filled the air and Odin didn't need to see to know it was Bor. It was strange to be in the presence of his father, not because he was dead, but because Odin now stood as the oldest. His father remained forever immortalized in his armor, with the forged horn helmet taming the wayward strands of his fiery orange mane. He held the same solemn stance in the moments before he rode into battle and never returned. Valhalla may have welcomed him, but in the deepest of slumbers he briefly graced Odin's visions.

"They will not be your death. You fret for no reason," Bor finally stated as he came to sit beside his aged son.

"What better reason to fret than for your sons? You should know you had nine of them."

"Yes and now eight of them dine with me in Valhalla," Bor stated and Odin recalled each of his fallen brothers, "The path they take is their own. You can only offer guidance for the trials they will face."

Odin suddenly stopped his father, "Forgive me, but you know not of my tribulations."

"Don't I? They are you, split in two. Each one represents a polarity of your own personality. Each one struggling to be more. As I recall your youth was spent much the same way."

"I was never so careless. One seeks destruction. One seeks freedom."

Bor laughed again and it was a deep vibrato, "And there is your mistake. They both seek the same thing. Something you have sought as well."

"I do not seek such things. I know my place and I know my duty."

"Now you do, but that was not always so. I remember when you first took the throne..."

"You fell in battle. You were not there," Odin remarked.

Bor placed his hand firmly on Odin's shoulder and offered a smile, "I am always there...in you I remain."

Odin knew it was true. This vision was a testament to that fact.

"When you first took the throne your need for vengeance was unquenchable. Your brother's were taken on the eave of their lives and your father slain at the pinnacle of his reign. Of course the war I spurred became your vessel, a disguised attempt to fulfill my wishes while quenching your own. Can you recall the number of battles you waged? Can you recall the fields of bodies and bloodstained earth you left in your wake?" and in the silence Bor found the will to continue, though Odin did not wish to hear it, "This is why I say such things were once your focus as well. You were destruction embodied. The longer you sat on that throne the more you came to understand it's burden. Your vengeance turned to duty. Then your duty turned to despair. I recall with great clarity the moment you sought to free yourself from the throne."

Odin's jaw clenched for he too could replay the memory in all its shameful glory. He was not proud of his moment of weakness.

"There is no shame in your desires. I too wrestled with my own shortcomings. In truth it is a man that wants a throne that becomes most dangerous. In the beginning you were such a man, but then you became one that did not want it. The best thing for a throne is a man reluctant to wield its power."

"Yes, Loki must be kept from the throne and Thor must be persuaded into taking the throne. I know the shortcomings of my sons."

"No, their shortcomings are yours, they are different stages of you," Bor sighed, "One trapped in your vengeful beginnings. The other trapped in your burdensome end. Both can be overcome. One with a resurgence of duty. The other with a rekindling of strength. You know as well as I, that had you not married Frigga you would have walked away. I long wish we could have met in life. Her strength has been your strength. I thank her for that."

"As do I..." Odin shook his head and wondered why it took a lecture from his father to see it, "They are both me."

"Yes," Bor replied as he stood and began to walk away, but paused to offer a glance back with a broad grin, "And that fact will guide you in your trying time."