Loki sat on the edge of the couch, legs curled to his chest, as he stared out the window, deep in thought as he watched the branches sway outside.
The clothes he wore were ill-fitting, too short, too broad-shouldered, too innocent. He'd murdered their previous owner. It seemed wrong, disrespectful to wear the clothes of a dead man. Especially since he was the reason he was dead. The guilt pressed down on him, wrapped around him in a suffocating grip. He wore it. The clothes around him was symbol of his shame.
An innocent man.
He'd done nothing wrong, and he'd died. For getting in Loki's way.
Loki had never felt more evil, more vile, more utterly despicably wicked.
It was a kindness of Payton to allow him to have a spare change of clothes, anyway, and for him, no less. But he couldn't help but loathe it, loathe the whole situation. Why did he have to wet himself like a babe in a nappy? Or, even before that, why couldn't he have been more careful with Payton's dishes? Despite how graceful he was in combat or court, he was a total klutz, in any semblance of a casual setting, his long limbs having always tripped him up in every way.
Embarrassing, but a cruel fact of life. And, because of that, he was now stuck in the scenario of wearing his victim's clothing. Well, he technically could wear his soiled clothes… No, never mind, he couldn't. He didn't have it in him. Despite the banishment, Loki had been raised a prince. He'd rather brave the crushing guilt than be so humiliated.
"Ready to go?" Payton's cheerful voice spoke up from the doorway, and she had shoes on, her hair up into a tidy ponytail, a purse slung over her shoulder.
Right.
He had to go purchase new clothes.
"Can't you just take my measurements, here, and bring them to the tailor, afterwards?" Loki pleaded, but got to his feet, anyway. Coulson's shoes pinched at his toes, a constant penance for the slaying of their master.
Payton furrowed her brow. "I'm not going to get your clothes custom-made." She stated, as if it was obvious. "I don't have the money, for one thing."
"Then you're going to select the fabric, and sew them, yourself?" Loki's brows drew together in confusion. That seemed like it would take a while. How long would he be stuck in these clothes, anyway?
Payton stared up at him, as if he was absolutely insane. It wasn't exactly a look that he liked, and he restlessly fidgeted under the scrutiny. "You don't have clothing stores, in Asgard?"
He silently shook his head, expecting her to make fun of him for being too stupid to understand Midgard's culture, regarding clothes. To his surprise, though, she simply shrugged. "Just go get in the car. You're smart; you'll figure it out."
Just go get in the car.
Go get in the car.
Loki could feel the collar begin to buzz ominously. It was her first command she'd given him, ever. He had no problem with the command in of itself, except for the tiny fact that he didn't know what a "car" was, or where to find it, or how to enter it. Distractedly, he hooked two fingers around the thin strip of metal, his eyes darting around in impending panic.
Payton began making her way towards the door, and, in hopes that she, also, was heading towards the "car", he trotted after her.
To his relief, the unpleasant tingling immediately halted in its slow building towards agony. That had been close.
She slipped out the door, and held it open for him, without really thinking about it. Loki, however, noticed. Saying anything about it, however, would probably break whatever spell this was. He stepped out into the outdoors, the fresh, warm air hitting him for the first time in days. Being locked in a cell for months had made him long for sunlight, and he hadn't exactly had time to appreciate it when battling Malekith.
In a trance, he let the clear mountain air wash over him, banishing the cobwebs from his mind, warming his whole face.
Go get in the car.
The collar gave him a sharp buzz, as a reminder, and he startled fearfully, and brought himself back down to reality. Payton was opening the door to one of the metal contraptions he'd seen (and rode in) during the invasion.
Right. Car. That's what that was.
Remembering his getaway from the Tesseract's Midgardian containment field, he hopped inside the car, and seated himself in the passenger's side, since he very obviously had no idea how to drive. "Seat belt." Payton said, as if to remind him.
He blinked at her in confusion. "What's that?"
With a tiny, amused smile, she reached over him, grabbed a strap, just over his right shoulder, and strapped him into the seat.
Loki gulped miserably. He was strapped to this metal beast, with no idea how to escape, no clue why he'd been tied down in the first place. It was obviously mandatory, but he was strapped down like he had been in the Sanctuary and he didn't know how to get out or what he'd done wrong, or why, why, why –
"You okay?" Payton's voice spoke up, and Loki whipped his gaze to her concerned eyes.
He didn't know what okay meant, and said so.
"It's like… alright?" Payton explained. "Beith thou in the peak of health, my good sir?" She grinned mischievously.
"I suppose…" Was the only way Loki knew to answer.
"And you know what that means, and not 'okay'." Payton rolled her eyes, and moved the car out of her driveway. At first, Loki was fascinated by all the levers and dials surrounding the command seat of the vehicle, and watched her every move in rapture, trying to figure out how to command the beast, himself. Eventually, though, it got boring. Very boring.
He didn't know how long he'd been in the car, already, but as tree after identical tree passed outside the window, and the hills became nauseating, Loki swiftly became bored out of his mind.
"Are we there, yet?" He asked, unaware of exactly how cliché and childish the phrase was.
"Nope." Payton shook her head.
"How long until we get there?"
Payton laughed, as if something he'd said was funny, but he didn't get the joke in the least.
"Well, let's put it this way." Payton cheerfully hummed. "I live approximately thirty miles from any civilization, on purpose. Speed limit in these parts is sixty miles an hour, therefore, one mile for every minute. So, you have about twenty minutes left."
He'd only been in the car for ten minutes? Where had his patience gone?!
"Then, we'll have to travel through the city, to get to a place where we can get you your clothes." Payton went on. "Provided there's no traffic, or something, that's another fifteen minutes. So, sit tight, cause you've got a little over half an hour before I'm releasing you to the wild."
Loki groaned in despair, and sank down in his seat. It was basically an eternity. If only he'd brought something to occupy himself. Perhaps Payton would've allowed him to bring one of her books, or something, anything. He was so bored…
"So, what are we going to do about your face?" Payton asked, startling him from his wallowing.
"My face?" He looked up at her in surprise. "Hopefully nothing? I like my face as it is, thank you…"
"Well, too bad." She shrugged. "Because I know a lot of people would be willing to kill you if they recognized you, and you can't fight back. Got a disguise?"
Loki nodded eagerly, and waved his hands, a golden haze going over his body. When the mist cleared, his dark hair had shortened, and turned a reddish-blonde color, his eyes blue. He was recognizable, but not unless you narrowed your eyes, and stared really, really hard.
Payton almost crashed the car, in her surprise. "How did you do that?"
Loki grinned, despite the sudden danger, and turned himself back to his normal look. "I have skills."
The young woman blinked in surprise, and stubbornly kept her eyes on the road, confusion reigning over her features. "You've got to be kidding me…"
"No kidding." Loki simply smirked, glad that she was impressed, and sat up a little straighter. "It's not exactly difficult."
"Could you teach me?" Payton smiled hopefully, the positivity gleaming in her eyes, making them sparkle, and, for some reason, Loki felt his cheeks heating up at the simple smile the woman wore on her face.
"Um… yes, I suppose." He nodded, suddenly eager to keep that smile on her face. What was wrong with him? Sentiment, that's what… He'd fallen prey to its greedy clutches, and he'd grown an attachment to this mortal. Then again, teaching her a bit of illusion-work was the least he could do for all the kindness she'd shown him, and continued to show.
The conversation lapsed into silence, again, and Loki realized they'd passed from hill after hill after tree-covered hill into a slightly urban location.
"What's the name of this village?" He wondered, his hands up against the glass as he stared in wonder at the outdoors.
"Village?" Payton snorted. "This isn't a village. Welcome to downtown St. Louis, Loki. One of the biggest cities in the US."
"Us?" He looked up in confusion.
"United States." Payton smirked. "Maybe we can drop by Andy's place, while we're here. She's not too far from the mall."
Loki paled slightly at the mention of Payton's frightening sister. "How about no?"
"How about yes?" Payton responded with a bright grin. "What do you have against her?"
"I've already been tasered once, today…" Loki grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. Payton dissolved into giggles, while Loki pouted. It wasn't that funny. Still, Payton was happy, and that was a good thing.
"Okay, get your weird disguise-thingy on." Payton ordered as they finally, finally pulled into a parking lot. "I mean, I was just going to go with the classic sunglasses-and-hoodie look, but, I mean…"
Loki smirked, and changed back into his disguise. The clothes were still too small, but, for some reason, it was a little liberating to not be wearing his own face. Well, he technically had the same face, but he looked more Asgardian, now, and, therefore, better in every way. Catching a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the car, he realized exactly how much he looked like Frigga's son, in this form, and a pang of loss swept through his heart.
Forget that.
Forget it.
Now was not the time to break down in tears like an infant, because Mommy wasn't there to kiss it and make it feel better.
He was no child. Holding his head high, he turned, and marched after Payton, into the enormous building, teeming with life.
After they'd finished purchasing Loki's new clothes, discovered he had no idea how to read, (which surprised Payton, honestly. Even in the medieval times, it was the royalty, not the commoners who knew how to read.) and deposited his new wardrobe into the trunk of the car, Payton took Loki to a nearby slushie shop, one of her favorite places to be, growing up.
Loki seemed to take great delight in the spinning stools, and twirled himself around in endless circles as they waited for their orders.
"Okay, let's talk." She finally put an end to the spinning. He raised his eyebrows, swaying dizzily as he stared at her expectantly. "What about?"
"You." She smirked.
"Oh, I don't like to talk." Loki stated, and began spinning, again, unconsciously looking like an overgrown toddler.
"Humor me, then?" She reached across the table, and grabbed the arm of the chair, grinding his gyration to a halt.
With a martyred look, he consented, and leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. "Very well, then. What about me? I'm a rather complicated man."
"I know." Payton dead-panned. "First of all, exactly how old are you, again?"
Loki straightened imperiously. "One-thousand-forty-three." He obviously took great pride in being older than her, which was… a distinctly juvenile trait.
"And, how long do Asgardians live, approximately?" Payton wondered, pulling her phone out of her purse, and turning on her calculator, already aware there would be far too complicated math for heads to do. At least, for her head.
"Five thousand years, give or take." Loki frowned suspiciously at the phone in her hand. "What are you doing with that?"
"Five thousand years…" Payton ignored him, punching in the numbers. Five thousand divided by eighty-three, the average lifespan of a human, would give her how many Asgard years equaled one human year: sixty point two. One-thousand-forty-three, divided by sixty point two…
Payton looked up in shock. "You're only seventeen." And barely, at that.
Loki blushed, and slumped a little in his chair. "So?" He asked with put-on gruffness.
In her shock, she dropped her phone to the floor. "You're just a kid!"
"I am not, either!" Loki indignantly stated. "I've reached my majority, on Asgard. I've fought in wars, ruled a realm for a week. I'm no child."
"Yeah, you are…" Payton breathed, retrieving her phone from the tiles. "You're still developing, mentally! You're… I can't believe this! You're a kid!"
Loki stared at her, arms crossed, entirely not amused.
"Oh, sorry." Payton smiled apologetically. "It just came as a shock. You act way more mature than your age."
"Way to turn mockery into flattery." Loki huffed, as the waiter approached with the slushies. Peach-mango for Payton, and strawberry for Loki.
"It wasn't mockery." Payton defended herself. "And it really wasn't just flattery, either. If I'd gone through what you've gone through, when I was your age, I would've had a mental breakdown. You're handing this really well."
Loki opened his mouth to say something, but then stopped, and turned his attention to the bendy straw, stuck in his cup. Idly, he began fiddling with it, and avoided her gaze. "What do you mean, 'what I've been through'?" He muttered.
Payton took a slurp from her straw. "Getting to that." She assured him, and went to her photo gallery. She'd taken the liberty of downloading a few classified files, particularly images from the SHIELD database. Clicking on a particular picture, she slid it over to Loki, who still hadn't touched the smoothie, except to play with the straw. "What do you make of that?"
"It's me." Loki noticed blandly, disinterestedly flicking his eyes down to the screen, which displayed his face, as he was hurling insults at the Black Widow. "Not my best moment…" He admitted. "But me."
Payton nodded, and swiped the screen to reveal one of her casual pictures of Agent Barton.
"My hawk." Loki shrugged.
"Not yours, but yeah." Payton nodded. "What color are his eyes?"
"Greyish blue?" He sighed, as if this entire exercise was wasting his time.
Payton nodded, again, and swiped, once more, to show footage of Clint, fighting Natasha. "And, now?"
"Tesseract-blue." Loki raised an eyebrow. "What's the point of this? Everyone knows what the scepter does to one's retinas."
Payton triumphantly smirked, and leaned forward, steepling her fingers like a detective in one of those old crimes shows. The slushie kind of ruined the effect, but it was the thought that counted. "What color are your eyes, Loki?"
"Green." He immediately replied, then widened his disguised-as-blue eyes in horror. "That is… I mean…" He fumbled for a few seconds, before his face crumpled in defeat. "Odin, I don't like this mortal, anymore. Can I trade in for a stupider one?"
Payton cracked a tiny smile, and slipped her phone back into her purse. "Anymore? Implying that you did like me?" She grinned impishly.
Loki only sent her a glare. "Why does it matter to you?" He mumbled. "Even if I was controlled by the scepter, you don't know who was controlling me."
"Well, that would've been my next question."
"And I would not have answered."
Payton sighed, and shook her head. "Fine. If you don't want to tell me, I won't force you to."
Loki blinked in disbelief. "You won't?" His eyes widened in shock, and a childlike hope. "Truly? Why not?"
"Because I'm a decent human being who doesn't want to trigger your collar if you truly don't want me to know?" Payton shrugged. "Are you going to eat that?"
Silently, he shook his head, his face obviously depicting his astonishment. It was as if you'd told him Christmas came early this year. He probably didn't know what Christmas was, but, well, that wasn't the point. His mind had been blown. His gob had been smacked. His gast, well and truly flabbered. To put it simply, he was stunned, and that was slightly insulting to Payton. He'd been expecting her to just force him to cater to whatever whim she wanted, at threat of collar. What did she look like, that weird old guy she'd basically rescued him from?
Before she could dwell on this idea for very long, she felt a buzz come form her purse, and she pulled out her phone to see that Andy had texted her.
Andy: Can you keep your pet alien in line?
It took Payton a while to realize she was talking about Loki.
Patty: Yeah why?
Andy: Surprise mission. I need you to watch the twins until ten tomorrow morning.
Patty: You got it
Andy: If either of them are missing limbs when I pick them up, I'm blaming the homicidal reindeer, and you by extension.
Payton snorted aloud, and rolled her eyes at her sister's antics. Loki was staring at her in confusion, as she slurped the remainder of her own smoothie, and moving on to his. "The twins are coming over." She informed him.
His face was just as blank as it had been, before, only now, with an edge of despair in it.
"Andrea's twins, Hope and Asher." She explained. "They'll be at our place, overnight. We need to get back to the house, so we don't keep Andy waiting."
TheOnlyHuman.