In the Middle, Somewhat Elevated

Chapter 6: ALIE/N A(C)TION

Loki's demeanor changed as daylight spilled in through the opening hatch. By the time the boarding ramp was in place, he'd straightened to his full towering height. His eyes were dark and his jaw set.

"Come," he said, leaving no room for argument.

I sat feeling lost. I knew this guy thought I was his sister, but what exactly did he want with me? For me to be on his side? To somehow force myself to remember that decades-old version of him and...what? Help him?

Could he be right? Was I this person? He was so confident that I was, and he acted like I meant something to him.

It was very confusing to have the good guys all but neglect me while the bad guy answered my questions and showed me that he cared for me in his own twisted way. Captain America broke my leg and ended my dance career, while Loki killed a man for simply dropping me.

I didn't know who to trust, where to go, or what to do with myself. Going along with Loki's plan was what got me into the mess with S.H.I.E.L.D. Even if he was my brother, it was clear he was no longer that sweet caring person from the vision. I had seen him stab a man in the eye while smiling. No matter how kind he acted, I knew I could not associate myself with him.

But trying to fight Loki was out of the question unless I could get the scepter, and I doubted he would let go of that thing for a second. I could run, but I couldn't get very far very fast with this leg. The thought of trying to fly this jet flitted through my mind, but I dismissed it knowing I would probably kill myself, and most likely others, trying.

At a loss, I limped down the ramp to get my bearings. We were outside, and very high up, so high that surrounding skyscrapers looked modest. I turned and saw the top of the Chrysler Building level with us.

New York! Finally, somewhere I recognized. Admittedly, I was very far from home, but it was more familiar than the inside of a giant flying military base. I craned my head around to spot the Hyatt we had stayed in last year for my mother's birthday. And Central Station was just...and so we had to be...I couldn't remember which building we were on top of.

"Bring her inside. And do not let her out of your sight." Loki ordered a man, who was crouching at a contraption that looked like a science experiment. It was a tall, spindly, shiny alien thing, with an an icy blue core, like the scepter. Like the eyes of the men Loki had changed.

The man extracted himself from the contraption and as he turned my heart plummeted. I took an involuntary step towards him.

"Finn."

"Oh that's right," said Loki. "You know each other." He was grinning.

Finn eyed me coldly, as if he knew me, but thought I was disgusting.

"Finn," I said again. I felt my throat tighten dangerously.

"Keep her out of trouble," Loki commanded him. "We wouldn't want any accidents, would we?" Loki reached out a hand as if to touch my face. I jerked away.

"Do not fear me. I will not harm you. Unlike... " he looked pointedly at my leg. "Some."

Loki joined a middle-to-late aged man with frizzy hair and blue eyes crouching near the contraption. Finn put my arm around his neck and helped me walk towards an elevator. His hands were hot and I could see sweat beading on his forehead. His usually neat dark hair was matted. He was shaking.

In all that had happened to me, I had hardly thought about what might have happened to my friend. Guilt stung me as I realized just how selfish I was. Finn was the one who had been taken, really taken, by Loki.

"Finn, are you ok? What happened?" I said as soon as the elevator doors closed. He pressed a button and the elevator dropped. "You know me, Finn. Look at me!"

The doors opened to a level that closely resembled the inside of a penthouse. A wet bar, fully stocked, stood at attention in one corner. Couches, electric fireplace, coffee tables.

"Good afternoon," said a distinctly British voice.

Finn whipped out a gun and pointed it wildly about. He had an arm wrapped around me, keeping me close, and from falling. My eyes darted around the luxurious room but found no one.

"Show yourself!" Finn said, his German accent heavy. He dragged me around in a tight circle to scan the area.

"I'm afraid that's not possible," the clipped British accent answered. "You are not authorized to be here, and I have alerted Mr. Stark of the security breach. Please leave."

Finn dove behind a bar.

"Tony Stark?" I asked before he clamped his hand over my mouth, rearranging us so that he could search the room from the makeshift cover and still hold my mouth shut in a sweaty grip.

"Precisely," the voice answered.

That would explain a penthouse next to the Chrysler. We were in Stark Tower, the newly built and impressively eco-friendly monument to himself. I wiggled to try and free my mouth from his hand. He kept scanning the room for someone to shoot. I opened my mouth and bit down. He let go of me with a cry of disgust more than pain.

"You can put that away. I am a computer system."

Finn's jaw tightened as he looked at me, and I was worried for a second that he would get back at me for biting him. He holstered his gun and stood up with a frown. He gripped my arm and hauled me up to stand.

"I will ask once more. Please leave."

"Tell Tony that Loki is here, setting up some kind of—" is all I got out before Finn dove on me and wrapped an arm around my face, choking off my words and air. I wrestled against him, panicking in my need to breathe.

"Not another word," he hissed in my ear. I nodded and after a long moment, his arm snaked from around my mouth and nose. I gulped in oxygen, my face hot and my body shaking.

With one last ounce of courage, I took a deep breath, remembering the word Loki had used that night in Germany. "Portal"

My ears rang when he hit me. I actually saw stars. I swam through consciousness for seconds or minutes until I found myself on one of the couches, my face to the cushions.

I closed my eyes. That was it. I was done being a hero. I couldn't stop Loki. I didn't even know what he was trying to do. And I was powerless without the scepter. I was a hostage, again, helpless on Tony Stark's couch, with Zombie Finn standing over me with a gun pointed right at my brain.

My head was fuzzy and I hurt all over. I would just stay here. What could I do anyway? Loki had the scepter. I was just a regular person. A ballerina with a broken leg.

I fell asleep in Tony Stark's penthouse, and when I woke, it was to the sound of explosions. Sirens from dozens of emergency vehicles. The moaning screech of metal on metal. Screams. Thousands of screams.

Outside, a metal thing, for which I had no words, the size of a whale flew past Tony Stark's penthouse, blocking the light of the sun through broken floor-to-ceiling windows. Smoke poured out of the city.

My body felt numb as I stood up from the couch, oddly compelled to look closer. I tripped and landed next to a person lying on the carpet. When I saw the face of my friend, I froze. Blood oozed from a cut that ran from forehead to chin. I forced myself to bend and press my ear near his mouth. I watched his chest rise and fall. He was alive. For now.

I had to call 911. I turned to search for a phone but was caught up by the scene outside. I stood on unsteady feet.

More things, smaller things, flew through the air above the streets. They zoomed around corners, shooting people and cars and buildings, terrorizing and destroying everything in sight. Some crawled up the sides of buildings like colossal bugs.

It was mesmerizing and I took three steps closer. Far below cars were stopped, scattered in the roads like a child left his toys. People as small as ants swarmed, ducking into some buildings, streaming out of others. They screamed as they ran. Lights from cop cars flashed red and blue, dancing in the windows hollowly.

"Beautiful, is it not?"

My heart relocated to my throat and my insides contracted, glued themselves together. Loki stood behind me, a creeping shadow. His face shone with delight as he scanned the scene before us.

"The end of a world." He crooned proudly, his hand sweeping as if he could help wipe it out. "Albeit a moronic one. I am glad to see it go, aren't you? I deserve this, 'Semi. We deserve it. Look well upon that which you never see again. Midgard it once was. Now it shall be mine. I will rule it, a true king, with a heavy hand and a glorious purpose. And you, sister, shall witness it all."

I couldn't catch my breath. My heart was hammering too fast and too hard. The distinct feeling of imminent death cloaked me. I was going to die.

He snarled at my lack of response, wrapping steel fingers around my wrist and awkwardly marching me outside. I fought him weakly. I did not want to be outside, unprotected. He dragged me up an outside staircase to an open ledge, a circular landing place for a very small helicopter.

The sirens were louder outside and the periodic grinding of metal on metal shook me to my core. I could not take it much longer. I sagged my weight into Loki, forcing him to hold me up. I prayed he would not throw me off the ledge, or force me, like last time, to hurt someone.

With the scepter, he pointed up, behind us.

"Look, 'Semi. Power."

I followed his gaze to a shocking blue cord that shot out of the top of Stark Tower and reached straight up. I traced the cord to the top of the sky, to a hole in the atmosphere, a gaping mouth spitting out evil things that would tear the world apart.

I believed him then. There were gods and aliens, monsters and there were monsters. Unless I was hallucinating everything, this was happening. There was no way to explain this away. Aliens were attacking New York City. Loki. Loki was real. And he was destroying Earth.

He hadn't lied. And that meant I was what he said I was. I didn't know what it meant to be Asgardian, or who Gersemi was supposed to be. But I believed him.

I felt an odd sense of peace accepting this. Deep inside I had known I didn't belong. I never understood it. But now I did. My whole life, I had felt out of place. I thought it was just a side effect of being adopted. But maybe it was more than that, too. I didn't just come from a family that I didn't know. I was not just from another country or state or town. I was from a different planet.

"I believe you," I said.

He smiled. "I knew you would come around."

Lightning flashed and the wind whipped our hair into our faces. Moments before, the sky had been blue. Now a cloud hung over this part of the city.

"Here is our brother now, tardy as usual." Loki let me go as if gearing up for a fight.

The ground shook, thunder clapped and then before us stood the blond man I had seen fighting with the green monster, just hours earlier. He held the huge metal hammer. His name came to me from the vision Loki had shown me. It was a name I had heard before in mythology class:

Thor. My brother, the god of thunder.

"Stop this madness, Loki!"

"Look who I found," said Loki. "Shall I be rewarded by the All-Father? A handsome prize in exchange for his lost daughter?"

"End this war and then we can discuss a prize." Thor looked at me as if calculating something.

"There is no stopping the Chitari, brother."

"We can stop them together!"

"Did you not hear my words?" Loki pushed me in between them. "I recovered Gersemi, after all these years."

"Admirable!" Thor yelled sarcastically. "Now turn the tesseract off!"

"Typical." Loki spat. "If you were to find Gersemi, you would be showered with praise. Yet another conquest for the great Thor! I can't turn it off. There is no stopping what has already been set in motion."

"Come home! Let us bring her back together. You will be rewarded, I give you my word."

"Do not placate me!" Loki snarled.

"What do you wish from me, brother?"

"I want Midigard to burn. I want Jane Foster to die a slow and torturous death. I want dominion over every mewling scut of a human. And then I want Asgard."

Thor looked miserable a moment before his face hardened. "Get inside, Gersemi."

I started to hobble away, and as soon as I was out of the way, Thor launched himself at Loki. I reached the door just as the sound of scepter against hammer nearly knocked me to the ground. I stepped inside, my back to the burning city.

The inside of Stark Tower was the sort of place you'd see when you googled "elegant man cave penthouse". The color palette was dark, but the lighting at the base of the floorboards and under furniture made it feel cozy and intimate. Or like a five-star restaurant. There was a striking modern metal chandelier, an asymmetrical stone fireplace, and a central carpeted space with ample comfortable seating.

The luxurious decor was what my brain chose to fixate on. Not the fact that I had just admitted to myself and to Loki that I was not human. Not the fight between my brothers or war raging outside. Not the shattered window and Finn on the ground breathing shallowly.

There was no escape. I was at the very center of a battle. I could not fight. I was weak from lack of sleep, from injury, from trauma, and from hunger. There was nothing for an ordinary person like me to do but wait and hope to survive.

So I looked at the room. It had a distinctly masculine feel. Like a bachelor pad mixed with a night lounge. The walls curved around, and the floors were cold, smooth concrete. There were textured accent walls made of rough concrete. I noticed a door behind and to the side of the bar, slightly ajar.

Periodic crashes outside battered at my conscience.

This was crazy, I knew, but I was hoping to find food or something to wear that wasn't oversized sweats. I was trespassing, technically–in freaking Iron Man's house–but I was starving.

I hobbled to the door and peeked in. I was rewarded with a small but state-of-the-art kitchen, where I imagined party-caterers would set up shop. I opened the refrigerator and found it stocked with essentials.

My stomach felt like it was eating itself. And after a meal, I'd be able to think better and make decisions. In the back of my mind, I knew I was avoiding what I didn't want to think about. But breakfast was such a good distraction.

I rummaged through a couple of cabinets before I found a frying pan and spatula. I pulled a carton of eggs and some mushrooms out. I even found a tomato. I flipped the burner and on and tossed the mushrooms in with some butter.

A new thought stopped me short: I was a thief. I was stealing from Tony Stark. None of this was mine. I had nothing to leave him; S.H.I.E.L.D. had confiscated everything when I was their prisoner.

I cleared my throat. "Um, Jarvis?" I called out in a small voice.

"Present," came his dry response.

"Is there any way to leave a message for Mr. Stark?"

"There is."

"Um, how?"

"I can relay any message to him, verbatim. In your voice, if you prefer."

"Oh. Ok. Ready?"

"When you are."

"Ok. Uh, Hello. Um, Mr. Stark, this is Siri. Eisen. You met me on the..." I swallowed hard as if I could repress the memories. "I just, well, this is awkward, but I am leaving an I.O.U. Two eggs, a tablespoon of butter, some mushrooms, salt, and a tomato." I palmed my forehead. This was so ridiculous.

"Is that all, Ms. Eisen?"

"Yeah," I groaned in embarrassment. "Oh. And add 'thanks'. And 'sorry.'"

"Very well."

"Okay. Thanks, Jarvis."

"You are welcome."

Then I thought about something. "Can you make a phone call?"

"I am certainly able to. However, you are not authorized to use this function."

I slumped. Never mind. Back to breakfast.

The small tasks of cooking kept my mind occupied, and in minutes I had a full breakfast ready. The smell almost made me forget everything that was happening outside. I practically licked the plate clean, blissfully full for the first time in forever.

I turned on the faucet, ready to scrub away the evidence of my thievery when a deep rumbling shook me to my bones. I heard an inhumanly loud groan. I dropped the scrub brush and bolted into the main room. Everything vibrated like an earthquake. The glasses in the wet bar clattered, spilled out of their places and shattered on the floor like ice falling from a roof.

I watched as something metal and enormous floated into view from above, swimming over the top of Manhattan like some sort of serpentine blimp. It undulated forward with a slow waving motion, mimicking a snake. Or an eel. It swooped above the streets and knocked into a skyscraper, ripping it to shreds.

"Mein Gott..."

I nearly jumped out of my skin as Finn stood up. His blue eyes watched the giant metal eel thing with reverence. Blood dripped lazily down his cheek from a gash in his hairline.

"Finn," I started to say, but trailed off, unsure of the right words. He barely glanced at me, his mouth hung open, a finger pointing to the apocalyptic scene outside.

"Siehst du das?"

"What?"

He was gaping at it all as if...well as if he were normal, not some brain-washed Loki disciple. His eyes seemed to be shifting in color, getting darker, then tendrils of green would creep in from the edges, then they'd swirl inwards for a moment and go icy blue again.

This was my chance to get him back. "Finn, can you hear me?"

I hobbled over and grabbed his shoulders, turning his body towards mine, away from the chaos. His eyes stayed glued to the view, even as his body turned away. His mouth was moving, whispering something in German.

"Was ist los?"

He wiped the blood from his cheek and looked at his hand in wonder.

"Come here," I took his hand and half leaned on him for support. "Can you understand me?"

He stared at me blankly. Great. I didn't speak German. I sighed and held out my hands in a gesture that I hoped meant 'stay' to him, and hobbled into the kitchen. I took a white hand towel hanging from the oven handle and ran a corner of it under hot water. I really had no clue what to do for him, but I could at least help clean him up. He was standing back in our original spot when I returned, looking out at the ruined New York City.

"Was ist passiert?"

"I don't know what you're saying, Finn. Here."

I held the tag close to his cheek and began gingerly wiping when he didn't react. I couldn't help but look at his eyes as they actively changed color as if they couldn't remember what color they should be. When the rag reached his forehead he yelped and grabbed my arm in a bruising grip.

"Sorry!"

He grabbed the front of my sweatshirt and pulled me close. His eyes were dangerously blue, his demeanor steely. My heart sank; I had lost him again. Before I knew it he had wrapped an arm around my neck in a chokehold.

His mouth nearly touch my ear when he spoke. "Glaubst du, du kannst mich zum Narren halten?"

I fought him by trying to pry his arm away from my throat. I stomped on a foot, hitting anything I could reach with my fists. I had no traction or balance, and I was panicking. He was only barely cutting off my air but being in that submissive position was terrifying.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a red object collide into the tip of the Chrysler Building. Dark clouds gathered faster than should have been possible and lighting hit the tower followed almost instantly by deafening thunder.

Distracted by the noise, we stopped our struggle.

It was Thor. I saw his face as clearly as if we were only feet away. We locked eyes and the force of his fury froze my blood. I stood mesmerized in Finn's grip as Thor raised a hammer to the sky, calling down more lightning-like a...like a god.

Thor pointed his hammer at us. The bolt hit before I could blink an eye and we flew apart like bowling pins under the strike.

I thought I died. I found myself in a heap, ears ringing. I smelled something burning. Shards of glass tinkled to the floor as I pushed myself up to a sitting position.

Finn lay face up, his clothes smoking on the opposite side of the room. I hurried to him, feeling tiny stinging cuts from where window glass and cut my face and hands.

He didn't move as I neared. A black pattern cut across the skin of his face and neck that looked like a tattoo of a lightning strike. His eyes were open, staring past the ceiling. His chest wasn't moving. I was afraid to touch him.

I laid down next to Finn, as close as I dared. Tears blurred my vision. I thought I might throw up.

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

It was all I could think to say. It was my fault. I should have stayed in Aspen. I shouldn't have been in Germany or with Finn or at that party. If I had stayed home or gone anywhere else, Loki wouldn't have found me, and maybe Finn would be alive.

We stayed there for a long time. I heard the horrible sounds of the battle, felt the shaking of the ground underneath. As I laid there, something broke in me. A blackness enveloped me. Hopelessness. I couldn't bear it all. I couldn't bear the thought that I was not who I thought I was. I couldn't process mythical characters into real people. I couldn't bear the thought that my leg was broken, that I may never dance again. I couldn't survive it. I didn't know if I wanted to survive it.

Minutes passed.

A deafening crash jolted me back into my body. The building shook violently as a massive green monster hurtled into the penthouse. He bellowed an inhuman roar and smashed his fists into the ground like a giant ape. A dark humanoid crouched on the ground for a moment before leaping up, revealing a disheveled Loki.

"Enough!" Loki roared right at the monster, who halted his charge. "You are, all of you, beneath me!" The dark Asgardian stood proudly, his face marked with shallow red cuts and bruises. "I am a god, you dull creature, and I will not be bullied by–"

The monster snatched him by a leg before he could finish, and as if Loki was a rag, the giant whipped him around and smashed him into the floor over and over in frenzied violence that came so easily and naturally that it felt as if it couldn't really be happening.

When the monster was satisfied, Loki was on his back in a trench made by his own body, the floor beneath him crumbled like cottage cheese. I sat frozen next Finn's body until the giant turned towards me. My mouth opened to scream, but it felt as if all the air had already been squeezed out of me. I couldn't move an inch to save my life.

"Puny god," he said looking right at me as if it were a joke.

Then he walked away, for all the world looking like a man strolling casually down the street, and jumped out the broken windows, right off the building.

My breath came in gasps. I could hear a wheezing sound coming from Loki. I peered at his prone, shaking body. I was scared to go near him, to see if he would survive. If he didn't survive, I couldn't bear seeing another dead man. If he did survive, I would find myself helpless against him, again.

A blue glow caught my eye, and something pulled at me like a magnet, from beyond the seen realm. The scepter in all its glory had fallen on the platform outside the windows. I felt as though I could hear a voice calling to me. I almost leaped out of my skin at the opportunity, propelling my body up despite the broken leg. I hobbled as fast as I had ever hobbled over broken glass and debris and bent to pick up the Loki-sized scepter. It was warm to the touch and my pain, exhaustion and fear melted like snow on a warm spring afternoon.

I could hardly believe it. I had the scepter. I was in control of a powerful weapon. I was no longer a victim at the mercy of the universe, but an active player on the field.

I shrank it to fit easily in one hand, the length of a large flashlight. The chaos of the battle seemed to still, and I felt the powerful seduction of being in control.

Just as it had done before, the scepter took me away from my surroundings and showed me somewhere and sometime completely different. It was like falling into a dream or a vision. This time I found myself inside a golden dome with cogs and wheels, like the inside a giant golden clock.

A man lay on the ground at my feet, dressed in an elaborate costume. I knew him. I bent over him. Blood ran from the dark skin of his face and he gazed far away, up out past the domed ceiling. I followed his golden eyes and saw, out a wide skylight, trillions of stars against an inky blackness that went on forever.

"Heimdall!" A voice called.

That was right. Heimdall was his name. But how could I know that? This place was surreal. This didn't exist anywhere on Earth. How could I know that?

I turned to see another man charging towards me, this one tall, grey-haired, and with an eye patch. My heart leaped in my chest. I knew him too. He didn't see me, but knelt right next to me, over the body of the dark-skinned man on the ground. He whipped his head around as if searching for someone else.

"Where is she, Heimdall?" His face was wet on one side; tears dripped off his chin from his one eye. I wanted to say I'm right here.

"I'm sorry," Heimdall's voice tore from his throat like a thorn from flesh.

Odin roared. Spit flew from his mouth, veins in his temples stood out like lighting.

I felt inexplicable tears prick my eyes. I'm here! I'm right here!

Odin chanted my name in a whisper like a mantra. Gersemi. We wept together, he for someone I didn't know, and me for him, though I didn't know why.

Allfather. My father.

"Siri?" Odin said suddenly looking up into my face. "Siri? Yes. Yes, that is right," He mumbled under his breath.

I'm here. I'm right here.

"Siri!" His voice changed, morphed to a woman's. "Siri!"

I was looking at Natasha Romanoff in place of my father. She stood, hands raised as if I would shoot her, red hair wild and lip bleeding.

I tasted salt and my eyes stung as I blinked away tears I didn't understand.

"Siri!," She yelled at me again over the noise of the battle. "Are you with me?"

"I'm right here," I echoed faintly.