When Loki and Natasha entered the workshop first thing in the morning – which was way too early by her standard, considering how late they had gone to sleep, but Loki outright refused to stay in bed and sleep in, especially after she pointed out that he looked like he needed it – Stark was in the middle of lugging a sheet of glass through the room. The podium in the center was gone, leaving only a low stump of a metal frame and a mess of exposed wires.
"Uhm," Natasha assessed. "What are you doing?"
"Taking my pet sheet of acrylic glass for a walk," he snarled, "Can't you tell?"
Okay, so he was in that mood.
[Can I be of assistance?] Loki asked, prompting Natasha to roll her eyes. He had perfected the act of a suck-up over the years on Odin's court, no matter what he claimed.
"Yes, please," Stark responded thinly and inclined his chin at the other end of the pane. Loki dashed to grab it and together they heaved it up onto the bed of one of the machines lining the walls.
"Don't you have a fancy robot to do that for you?" she asked raising an eyebrow.
"Don't you have anyone else to pester?"
"Nope."
Stark sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I needed a bigger sheet than usual; it wouldn't fit on the transporter and I would rather avoid having to cut it off-site."
"What are you building anyway?"
"A container."
"For?"
Stark glowered at her.
Shit. "Sorry," she muttered. "Is there anything I can do?"
"Bruce is in the bio lab on twenty-seventh. He wanted you to come over. He has some scans to run."
She went to meet up with Bruce, leaving Loki alone with Stark, as they built… the coffin, the dying bed, the sacrifice altar. No matter how she chose to call it, she couldn't make it sound right.
It is the only way and you agreed to it, she reminded herself. It didn't help.
Fulfilling Banner's quota of tests and scans – as she sat in the lab and made her magic flow through her fingers over and over again – took most of the day and by the end, her throat was dry, and her head was throbbing dully from the creeping exhaustion.
She asked Bruce for the reason, somewhere halfway through, and got about as much as "registering magical signatures, so they would know what they're looking at" before the explanation dissolved into completely incomprehensible technobabble. It was enough. She was helping, and that's what mattered.
"I think we got everything we could," Banner said finally, neatening the pile of notes on the desk he was using and returning the displaced pieces of equipment back to their rightful places.
"Thank fuck," she muttered. "If you told me to do that just one more time, I'd have punched you in the face and we'd all be in much deeper shit than we are now."
Bruce brought forth a thin smile. "Maybe not. The other guy likes you."
"Does he, now?" she chortled, swirled around on the rolling stool she sat on and scratched her jaw. "How can you even tell? Is he, like, a voice in your brain?"
Banner shook his head. "It's … he is a part of me, and his thoughts and feelings are a part of my thoughts, even if I don't consciously focus on them. Like an aftertaste. He is always there because I'm always there and he is me."
The two concepts had little in common, but the idea still made her think of the link, the one between her and Loki, that took permanent residence in her mind, even when she wasn't paying attention. Something that was always there, at the edge of her thoughts, ready to float to the surface with the briefest of tugs.
"It must be tiring," she admitted, "to have that ball of anger always at the back of your head."
"The anger was always there," Bruce said, chewing his lip. "Hulk just took it and gave it a shape. It even makes it easier, sometimes, to have that rage and frustration shoved into one compartment that I have to keep under wraps. Other times, well …"
"Sometimes we all feel like smashing something. Stark's tableware would know."
"I'd say the effects of my anger issues are a bit more … prominent."
"Details," she said with a chuckle. "So, how does the Hulk feel about all this?" She made a wide gesture with her hands.
Bruce readjusted his glasses and shoved his hands into the pockets of his apron. "Now that Hydra is gone, he mostly wants to go to Asgard and bash Loki's father's face into a wall. Or maybe that's just me."
"Yeah, same here."
Stark and Loki were still in the workshop when she returned. The structural part of the contraption they were constructing already had taken shape and she truly hated how much it resembled the sarcophagus in the Lenin Mausoleum on the Red Square.
Loki was sitting hunched over a workbench, a soldering iron in his hand, and Stark hovered above him like a hungry vulture. "Keep the tip at an angle, you'll bridge the traces like that and make it short-circuit."
Loki huffed in annoyance and swatted Stark's hand away but did readjust his fingers' grip on the tool. "Trim that lead, you don't want to be sloppy. Jesus, who taught you to solder?" Loki glowered at him and Natasha chuckled, because she was quite certain that it was Stark himself, and it happened sometime within the last few hours.
"What's up?" she asked.
Stark jumped, then eyed her with reproach. "Geez, do you really have to sneak up on me like that?!" he exclaimed. In the background, Loki's shoulders shook in a silent snigger. He had heard her coming from the moment the door opened.
"You're twitchy, Stark. The life of a fugitive is not serving you that well either. Besides, what would you like me to do, wear a cowbell around my neck?"
"That would be an improvement, yeah," Stark decided. "How did it go with Bruce?"
"No idea, but he says he has everything he needs. How about you?"
"We're almost done for today. There are still some parts in the mill, on the polymer printers as well, but they won't be done before morning. We can call it a day once Howl gets his solder work in order."
She couldn't help the small smile that crept up to her lips. Now that was a good nickname. "Did Loki tell you about the dark magic thing?"
Tony nodded with a sigh and Loki turned around on his chair. [I also told him you can do it.]
"Well, it looks like I have no other choice then."
And really, she did not.
They missed the meal, but there were some leftover boxes of takeout food on the counter and Natasha grabbed one without really checking the contents. She didn't know the name of the dish, but the restaurant's logo on the box suggested something Indian and it was chicken pieces in a thick curry sauce, with almonds and raisins. It was rather good, but it still turned to sawdust in her mouth the moment she sat at the table and her eyes drifted to Loki. It was his call to join them during the meals and she couldn't question it, especially since he did a marvelous job at keeping his expression neutral, but it still felt just … wrong. He shouldn't be forced to torment himself like that. And that was just one thing on the long list of shouldn'ts for Loki.
Stark's fingers scrolled through the screen of his tablet as he mindlessly shoveled food into his mouth. "The troops are pulling away from Iraq after an international outrage," he read out idly, "Also, Thompson was found dead in his home thirty minutes ago. Suspected suicide, it says here."
Joshua Thompson was the – now-former – vice president under Ellis' administration.
"Another assassin on the loose trying to do damage control?" she speculated.
"That, or he really just shot himself in the head once the ground started crumbling under his feet, hard to tell," Stark judged, without tearing his eyes away from the screen. "There's also a riot going on in Los Angeles."
"About what?"
Stark bit his lip and scrolled down. "Hard to say. It started with a protest by the employees of some tech companies after their CEOs' names popped up in the files, then it kinda got out of control, it seems." He crooked his head as he looked at the photos. "It looks like City National building is on fire."
"Should we do something about it?"
"It says here it was mostly empty by the time the fire spread and that the National Guard was deployed to control the situation in the proximity. I think we're better off letting them deal with it. I'm not going to play riot police."
"There's going to be a lot more of that."
"Oh, yeah, definitely. Most of the files were encrypted and it will take months, if not years, to get everything out, even with the collective mind of the internet on our side, and who's to say what's in them?"
"You're not curious?"
He chuckled. "Of course I am. I set thirty percent of the operating power of my system to crunch the encryption, but it will still take time. I'll bump it to forty later, but we need it, for now." He didn't need to elaborate here. "And look at that, SI stock jumped up twenty points today," he added with a raised eyebrow.
It was quite telling that it was just an afterthought for him to check that out. Still, she couldn't care less. "Congratulations?"
"No, this is important, can't you see? It means we're in the green now. We have the public trust."
"You do," she murmured. Well, it couldn't hurt, that much was true.
"Oh, come on, you know we can spin it to our advantage."
That was also a good point. "We will see about that, when the time comes."
"Taking about spinning things," Stark said and got up, then marched down the hallway towards the elevators. He picked a manila envelope from a side table, then trudged back. Loki's eyes traced him with open curiosity and Natasha had to admit she was intrigued too.
Stark sat back down with a grunt, undid the clasp on the envelope, pulled out a small stack of papers, and put it on the table in front of Loki.
Loki frowned. [What's that?]
"Just something the lawyers cooked up. An application for political asylum. I'm being told this is where we need to start if we want to make your presence here official. As of now, you have no legal identity, and this is meant to change it."
Loki pulled the documents closer, then went through the first page. [A victim of racial persecution by a totalitarian regime?] he asked with one raised eyebrow. He had to spell most of the words, for he had no signs for them, even now.
"If you ask me, that's a perfect definition of what we know about Asgard," Natasha provided with a smirk.
Loki's forehead wrinkled as he went through the rest of the page and on to another. [It has a place for a last name here and the field is marked as compulsory. I don't have a last name.]
"Yeah. I've been told it's not that uncommon, actually. But, as the US legal system requires you to have one, you'll have to invent something."
The wrinkle on Loki's forehead deepened.
"It can be anything, but, as it will be your legal name from now on, I'd advise refraining from using it to make a joke, as tempting as it might sound. It can be a pain in the ass to change later and we kinda need for it to sound serious on TV."
[Do I need to sign it now?]
"Well, the faster you deal with that, the quicker it can be pushed onto some bureaucrat's desk, but as long as you're done before we start tomorrow, it should be fine. Take your time, read it though, and come back to me before tomorrow morning, okay?"
[I will. Thank you, Tony.]
"This must be the first time anyone ever thanked me for making them fill out government forms," Stark chuckled, then added, under his breath, "and wait till you learn about taxes."
[There are places where the boundaries between this universe and what lies beyond blur. The scholars of old called it The Big Dark, or rather a slightly more ominously sounding Aesir equivalent of that phrase, but the sense still stands. Some said it's but a reflection of our own universe across the dimensions we can't comprehend with out limited minds, others – that it's an infinite parade of parallel universes, just like ours. Some even claimed to be able to travel there, crossing the limits of time and space as they are defined in our world.]
"You think that's true?"
[I think it's a possibility. What I'm certain about is that – given proper dedication – you can draw energy from those places. The energy that doesn't belong here, in this world, and doesn't follow the laws of the equivalent exchange, thus destroying the fragile balance of the universe. Most agree – me included, if my opinion bears any significance still – that it's not a responsible act. This is also what Odin would tell me if he ever bothered to give me a straightforward lesson on the principles of magic and not just ones that I was supposed to draw from his judgments. Which didn't at all stop him from using it to send Thor back to Earth to put an end to … my campaign, or – apparently – to seal his reminder to my body as permanently as possible.]
He was supposed to remain impartial; it was important for Natasha to know this and he shouldn't have allowed his resentment and self-pity to pour into his words, but it happened, nonetheless. [I'm sorry.]
"For what? We've established that Odin is a stuck-up asshole, months ago."
[Not that, I…] He paused, swallowing around the metal in his throat. It wasn't the proper moment to have that discussion, all over again. They didn't have much time.
Perhaps this was the only time they had. If something were to go wrong, if Banner or Stark miscalculated…
Natasha's fingers wriggled into his palm and wrapped around his thumb, then squeezed, softly. She always found a way to comfort him, to offer that little snippet of kindness, like a line for a drowning man, one that he wanted to hold on to, no matter how bleak the odds looked. Even right after Hydra's cell, when his broken mind couldn't comprehend that a touch could be anything other than another instrument for inflicting pain, she could get through to him, and more so now. A sudden desire to cling to her overwhelmed him. To bury his head in her arms and stay there, safe and shielded, until it was time to go.
Breath caught in his throat and his vision grew blurry with unasked-for tears. He tried blinking them away – it was not the time for sentimental outbursts, there were still things he needed to tell her – but they wouldn't obey him, forcing their way out. He screwed his eyes shut in a last-gasp effort.
There were fingers on his temple now, and Natasha's warm breath on his cheek, and her lips on his eyelids, whispering words of comfort, small and ultimately meaningless, but still bringing solace. The world crumbled and collapsed into a cocoon around him as her arms embraced his shoulders and held him and didn't let go until he ran out of tears.
"You want to go out?" Natasha asked, when Loki managed to control his childish outburst somewhat.
He frowned at her. [What do you mean?]
"Well, out, like, outside?" she said, gesturing at the world behind the window.
[What if someone recognizes us?]
She shrugged. "It's almost dark already and we can take one of Stark's cars and drive around. And even if they do then what? It's no longer a secret that you're on Earth and we won't be doing anything criminal. The authorities have other things to worry about now."
He hesitated, just for a second. If this was supposed to be his last night among the living, he might just as well spend it exploiting the extent of his limited freedom. [Okay, let's go.]
"What are you looking for?"
Loki peered out of the door of the walk-in wardrobe in the hallway. [A scarf, or something else to…]
"Will you feel better with your face covered?"
He shrugged. Facing strangers while muzzled like a feral cur was demeaning but hiding it under a piece of cloth didn't make it significantly better. And it was a pain to keep the scarf from slipping off constantly.
"You don't have to do it, if you don't want to."
[What if someone sees me?]
She sighed. "Then they can deal with that on their own and draw their own conclusions. It is cruel and unfair, but it is what it is. It's Odin who should be ashamed of doing this, not you."
He should be used to all kinds of humiliation by now, he had been rolling in it for years. Being seen like this by strangers was nothing, in comparison. [Okay,] he said, [I'm ready then.]
"You don't want a jacket?"
[No.]
"Of course you don't," she muttered with a smile.
New York viewed from the street-level had little in common with the city he saw from high up in Stark's tower, it turned out. There were smells and sounds and bright, flashing lights, every aspect as unfamiliar as the next, creating almost an unbearable cacophony of sensations, and the streets were full of cars and people. It felt nothing like the quiet grandeur of Asgard and more like the busy marketplace of the underbelly on Knowhere or one of the exoplanets of the Kree empire, where entrepreneurship ruled, not martial law.
Loki rolled the window down and just drank it in.
Natasha didn't protest when he asked if he could drive and now she sat by his side, only occasionally pointing at some interesting landmark, or suggesting directions. He told her – a long time ago, in another one of his fatuous outbursts – that being unable to answer bothered him, and, since then, she never struck conversations with him when his hands were busy. Or perhaps she just didn't feel like talking – some peace and quiet was a welcome change after days spent in Stark's company. Not that Loki did not enjoy it on a principle, but Tony's intrusive demeanor could get tiring at times.
A few moments of silence were pleasant, from time to time.
After a couple of rounds through the city, they drove East, until the sprawl thinned, and the road wound its way across small islands along a shallow bay.
"There's parking there," Natasha pointed with her finger, and Loki pulled over from the main road, then drove through the empty expanse of asphalt, until it gave way to a wide strip of pale sand and the line of dark water of the ocean further on.
He didn't ask why she brought them there. It was just fitting, to end the journey like it started.
The sky was dark, but not completely so, they weren't far enough from the city yet and the illumination reflected off the low clouds and lit their way. Natasha wrapped her jacket around her shoulders to protect herself against the wind, then slunk her head under his arm.
"You want to go swimming?"
There was just a pinch of sarcasm in the question and Loki didn't mind, not after how their last escapade ended. The ocean looked dark and uninviting. Cold, too, but most likely not cold enough for him to feel it. Sometimes he wished he could, even for a moment, if just to know how it would be like.
"Huh?"
He breathed out a laugh and shook his head. He was good exactly where he was.
They stood in silence for a while.
"You really think I'll be able to snap the link of Odin's magic?"
[Yes.]
"But if that's the case, why do we need this whole ridiculous plan? Why not try breaking it right now?"
[The spell is active, and it will fight you. No matter the source, it will break once it cannot sustain itself, and you'll have to sever just the remaining link, so it won't come back alive when I do.]
If.
"Okay, but… Can the muzzle latch back onto you or something? Once Stark takes it off?"
[I don't think so, no. But Tony isn't sure he can remove the gag right away, even with the spell gone. He cannot assess the material properties precisely, because the magic is interfering with his readings and there's a chance he won't have the proper tools to do so safely without prior preparation. And waiting too long might pose a way greater danger than the inconvenience of me waking up with it still in place.]
She nodded, understanding, even though her expression plainly showed she didn't like the idea. Loki had to admit she wasn't alone in that sentiment, but Stark was right – the shorter the time he had to spend dead, the greater were his chances at making a full recovery.
[It might take a few hours to cut through the metal,] he reasoned. [I'd rather be alive with my mind intact at the end. Once the spell is gone, it's just a matter of time before Stark works it out, I'm sure.]
"Okay," she sighed, "but… I could feel the magic and I keep on thinking if only I was able to reason with it, maybe I'd be able to convince it to let you go… Does it make sense?"
[In a way, yes. Some spells that are crafted around a particular set of rules can appear to have a mind on their own and sometimes interacting with it is the way to break it.]
Natasha chewed her lip. "Uhm…"
[Think about it like it were a computer program. One that you have running that you want to stop. What we are trying to do now is to turn the machine off and back on. But you can also use a command to shut down the program itself, if you know it and it exists.]
She nodded, slowly. "Does it? The command, I mean?"
[I have no idea.]
"Would you… allow me to try?"
Loki wasn't entirely sure he himself would be able to break the curse if it were affecting someone else, even back when he still had full access to his powers. He raised his hands to tell her that and met her eyes, earnest and hopeful, and his resolution wilted. [It could be dangerous. We still don't know what other clauses the magic might carry. It's aimed at me, but it would be foolish to assume it has no way to defend itself from interference other than mine.]
"Are you saying it can hurt you again, even with Stark's gizmo?"
[Me, or you. It still draws from my energy; I just can't feel it. Once you start interacting with it, it can – and will – use it against you, and you have nothing to block the influence. And if not that, if it takes enough…]
"Oh."
He hesitated, fighting to not flinch as the metal shifted in his throat in a warning for the violation. Natasha exceeded his expectations in every area of magic she tried, guided by her unique instincts. Perhaps there was a miniscule chance, as improbable as it sounded, for her to find the way to break the spell. And even in the – highly more likely – scenario where it wouldn't work, they might yet still learn something important about the magic and its rules, as they still knew preciously little. He just needed to make sure they stopped before she got hurt. [We can still try. It beats dying.]
"I will be careful, I promise. We'll stop if anything happens."
Like that ever stopped any of them. [Okay.]
She sat down on the sand with her legs crossed, then patted the ground in front of her.
He looked down on her with doubt. [You want to do it here? Now?]
"Why not? It's not like we need any prop for that, do we?"
Loki would have preferred waiting until they returned to the safety of Stark's home, if he were to be honest with himself. That way, in the event that something happened, Tony and Banner would be close by, and Tony could register the fluctuations of power with his array of measuring devices. Loki wasn't sure if there was any more data to gather that the humans could use, but it was a possibility, nonetheless.
"You changed your mind?" Natasha prompted.
He shook his head and sat down facing her, close enough for their knees to touch. For centuries, he had been used to shying away from casual touch, and, despite the surety that Natasha not only did not mind but also actively sought contact out on occasion – undoubtedly for his own sake, giving him the attention he not only selfishly craved but even dared to exploit at times - the habit was there, although easier to fight than before.
Her hands crawled up to rest on his knees and he took a heartbeat to delight in the warmth, before the awareness of how unpleasant his own flesh must feel to her creeped up once more, souring it. Still, his greed kept him from edging away, just like it usually did.
He reached to remove the scrambler from his neck to give it to Natasha – he could bear the effects of the spell without it and had done so countless times before – but stopped midway through the motion. He couldn't be certain it would even work on the defense systems of the spell (because he still had no idea what those were) and – even if it did – it might prevent her from recognizing when something went wrong, while he was in no position to notice it either. It was more reasonable for the device to stay with him, for both of their sakes, as much as he would prefer her to have that extra level of safety.
"Ready?" she asked.
He nodded, then closed his eyes and focused on clearing his mind. Even playing with the vague idea of getting rid of the burden had awoken the spell from its slumber and focusing his attention on a direct attempt at breaking it would make it even worse, potentially interfering with what they were trying to do. He concentrated on Natasha's fingers tracing lines on his skin, warm and gentle, on the tug of the ocean breeze in his hair, on the fresh, cool air in his lungs.
It might not be the perfect circumstances, but it was a better existence than he could expect after all that happened in the last years and he was glad he had the opportunity to enjoy it, if only briefly. He was safe and welcome here. He had allies now. People who didn't expect him to be something he couldn't be, but accepted him for what he was, as impossible as it might seem.
And now the prospect of death made him realize how much he wanted that life to continue. Not only because he was yearning for more of the ministration Natasha was giving him. He had yet to prove he was worthy of the trust the humans had placed in him, and there were still so many things left for him to learn…
The spell flared up, the metal burning up and scalding his tongue and the roof of his mouth. He swallowed the yelp that threatened its way out – it would only make it worse – and tried returning to that enticing vision from a few heartbeats ago, but it was gone, wiped off by the pain.
Natasha groaned and, when he looked at her, her face was twisted in an angry scowl and her narrowed eyes were shiny with tears. The magic was fighting her viciously, that much was obvious, but there was an obstinate determination in her expression, so he stopped himself from pulling away. She had promised to be careful, and it was her call to make.
Her hands shook and she cried out, then squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the tears to spill down her cheeks. She held on for another second before she pulled away. The metal shifted in his throat one last time and the heat started to subside. She slumped and hung her head down, panting.
"I can't do it," she breathed, "I'm not strong enough…"
She flexed her fingers in her lap. The skin on her fingertips and palms was red and already started to blister where the metal had burned it. He reached out and cupped her hands in his palms, allowing his flesh to draw out the excess heat. She gasped and looked up at him. Without thinking, he dragged himself up on his knees and embraced her.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice was muffled by his clothes but still audibly wavered "I really wanted this to work."
Loki buried his face in the fluffy fur that adorned the collar of her jacket. He desperately had wanted it to work too.
They drove back without talking much. Natasha connected her phone to the car's system and set it to play music. Human music had a lot of variety to it and – while not all of it sounded pleasant to him or even much like music at all – some of it Loki found agreeable. The upbeat, noisy kind Natasha put on served well as a distraction at least, as he focused on trying to guess what kind of instrument could possibly produce each of the unrecognizable sounds; a task he often failed miserably.
It was well into the night when they returned, but Stark was still in the living room. He was lounging in front of the big screen which was playing some action film – at least Loki guessed so from the explosions and gunfire – with his phone in one hand and a drink in the other.
"You could've warned me you're going out," he said looking up at them with reproach. "I was worried."
"I somehow missed the part where you became our legal guardian," Natasha snapped back and flopped down on the couch next to Tony. Loki followed her example and sat down on the armchair. It was the same one he sat on during the confrontation with Clint, and it served as another reminder of how the things had changed since then. "Besides, you could've called."
"I wasn't worried that much," Tony chuckled.
"I would ask why you're still up at two am, but it's like an early afternoon for you, right?" Natasha said with a knowing smirk then put her legs up on the coffee table.
Tony eyed her with incredulity, shrugged and took a sip of his drink. "I'm waiting for Pepper. They flew back to New York today with Happy, now that it's safe for her to come back, but there was some mix-up at the airport and they are still dealing with it. Something about my aircrafts still being flagged."
"And you're sitting here and not throwing a temper tantrum at the site?"
"Pepper can be very convincing," he said with a pout, "also, I don't think my presence would make it any better. It's just some bureaucratic asshole ticking a wrong box somewhere…" His phone beeped as a new message arrived, and he immediately switched his attention to the screen of the device. "Looks like they are in the clear. Happy is driving her back to the tower," he said with a small groan at the end.
"I thought you'd be thrilled to see your girlfriend again," Natasha pointed out.
"I am, it's just… I told her what we're trying to do tomorrow. She isn't… Let's say, a fan, and I'm sure I haven't heard the end of it yet."
Loki's shoulders slumped and his hands moved before he managed to talk himself out of it. [We cannot stop now. I need to…] He cut the pleading short, before the spell reawakened. [Please.]
"As long as you don't change your mind, I'm not going to drop out," Tony said with an unwavering surety in his tone. "There's just no other option. If the plan doesn't work, we will figure something else out, until this goddamned piece of junk comes off."
Loki nodded, purposefully ignoring the flaws in Tony's line of reasoning. He was rather sure the man knew them anyway.
"Pepper's just worried, that's all," Tony added, and the notion roused some inarticulate, gloomy feeling inside Loki's mind.
Loki moved to get up.
"And where do you think you're going?" Tony asked with a raised eyebrow.
Loki blinked at him. [It would be the best if I removed myself from here before Miss Potts arrives, if she is angry at me for forcing your hand.]
Stark rolled his eyes. "Are you trying to interpret everything I say in the worst possible manner or does it come out this way naturally?"
[I don't…]
"Pepper's worried, because we usually don't run around killing our friends to break some alien magic curse. That's all. She is angry at me, not at you, and she will get over it because I can be very convincing too, and you're going to help."
Loki gaped at Tony, unsure what to say.
Friends.
That was a staggering notion.
Loki sat back down and glued his gaze to his hands. They had always been so fragile and weak compared to Thor's strong, calloused hands, and even more so now.
Just like the rest of him.
"Hey, Miracle Max, did I say something wrong again?" Stark inquired with a wave aimed at Loki and his grin was as wide as it was fake.
Tony couldn't possibly comprehend how impossible the sentiment was. People like Stark did not associate themselves with the ones of Loki's notoriety willingly…
But there was no other explanation, was there? Loki had nothing to offer, as much as he tried to fool himself otherwise, no way to pay the enormous debt he had accumulated, and the humans not only did not withdraw their help, but offered more of it, repeatedly, asking for nothing in return. It wasn't some ruse he had yet to see through, and it was dishonest and ungrateful of him to still see it that way.
[No. Everything is fine,] Loki said. [Thank you,] he added.
"Great! Now, wanna play some Street Fighter while we wait?"
Loki didn't even notice Virginia Pott's arrival, too engrossed with wiping the virtual floor with Stark's avatar, as the man grunted and yelled in only partially pretended protest.
"Am I interrupting something important?" she asked, leaning over the backrest of the couch, and planting a kiss on Tony's cheek. Stark immediately dropped the controller and arched his back to reciprocate a lot more fervently. Loki fought the urge to turn his gaze away. He wasn't invading their privacy. The humans had a lot looser definition of appropriacy in the area and it was nothing weird, here on Earth.
He put down the controller as well, they were done playing, it seemed.
"No, sorry, we were just killing time waiting for you," Tony said after Miss Potts pulled away. "Want to grab a bite? I can order some pizza…"
"Thanks, but we had a late dinner at the airport," she said, circling the sofa and sitting at the very edge of it, close to where Loki was sitting. She kept her hands in her lap and eyed Loki inquisitively. "How are you holding up?"
The remonstration for being singled out for questioning bubbled inside him, but he managed to squash it before it floated to the surface. [I'm doing well, Miss Potts,] he said with a small bow of his head. It wasn't a lie, he was doing well, given the circumstances.
She nodded in return and smiled. "So, how about you tell me what this is all about?"
[Didn't Stark tell you already?]
"He did, but I want to hear it directly from you."
[There isn't much to tell. Tony found a method that might work to remove the gag. It's way is a bit… unfortunate and I understand it might not sit well with you, but it may be my only hope to ever get it off.]
"You understand the risks?"
[Of course.]
"And you still want to do it?"
[Very much,] he said. He didn't intend to go on, but her face was still undecided, so he did, [I understand that you might not see my concession as reasonable, but…] He ran his fingers through his hair, buying himself a heartbeat of time, but there was no wriggling out of it now. [It's a cruel device. It's humiliating and painful, even when the spell remains dormant. I wore it for a long time now, but it's impossible to… get used to it. So, if there's even a slight chance for me to be free from it, I want to take it. Anything is better than this.] He made a vague gesture at his face and lowered his gaze, while Odin's invisible hand punished him for the mental picture.
He could feel all their eyes on him. He bared himself, admitting his weakness. If he were stronger, he would bear it without complaining, but he was not, no matter how much he tried convincing himself otherwise. And now, everyone knew. If that didn't work, he had nothing else to offer.
"It wasn't my intention to question your choices, Loki," she said and reached out to place her hand on his knee. He tensed, but she didn't take it away. "I just wanted to make sure you know what you're signing up for."
[I do.]
She smiled, squeezed his knee reassuringly and pulled her hand away, then turned to Tony. "Promise me you'll be careful."
Stark huffed in indignation, then surrendered under her glare. "We've been through this, Pep. You know I hate the idea as much as you do, and you know why I must do it. Of course, we will be careful, who do you take me for? We're taking every precaution we can under the circumstances."
"Is there anything I can do to help? I can take a few more days off, the company seems to be doing fine without me," she said with a smile.
"The tech will be done by the morning and Bruce said he synthesized all the compounds he could. All that's left is just… going through with it," Tony said with a scowl. "But if you want to stick around for moral support, I'd surely appreciate it."
"I will," she said, scuttled over to Stark's side and draped her arm around his shoulders. "When do we start?"
The windows in the guestroom Natasha and Loki occupied came equipped with blackout blinds that neither of them bothered to use. Which was for the best, because otherwise she wouldn't have woken up to the sight of the mellow light of the autumn midday sun playing in Loki's hair and bringing up the teal highlights in his eyes.
He was sitting with his back against the headboard, entirely focused on the phone in his hands. She blinked the sleep away and didn't move, basking in the sight. The long months of darkness made his features sharper and more feral, but not any less beautiful.
She closed her eyes, imagining there was a small smile pulling up the corners of his lips. If everything went well, she might soon see it, for real.
He only needed to die first.
She sighed; all her good mood was gone in an instant.
Loki turned away from the screen, pulling the headphones out, and she immediately felt guilty for putting that wrinkle of worry on his forehead.
"You were watching the videos, weren't you?"
He nodded.
"Any conclusions?"
[Yes.]
"Well?"
[That's my answer. Yes. I want to try.]
She blinked.
[This… life, here. With you. I…] His hands hovered in the air for a moment, undecided. [I don't know if it's even feasible or just a foolish fancy. But, should I live… I want to try.]
Her eyes prickled and something tingled behind her sternum as she stared at him, astounded.
[You're right. All my life I tried to be something I could never be. I did everything to meet the expectations of Odin, of Thor, of the All-Mother, and failing each time after time, without realizing it was an impossible task. I could never be the prince, the brother, the son they wanted. I can only be… me and that would never be enough.]
"It is, for me," she whispered, the quiver sneaking into her voice.
[That's why I want to stay. If you'd still have me.]
She pulled herself up, wrapped her arms around his drawn legs and rested her chin on his knee, the one that wasn't bruised. "Oh, I will."
He brushed his knuckles on the back of her hand. [We must go,] he said, but didn't move to get out of the bed.
"I know. I just…" She took a long breath and looked him in the eye, then held on to his legs closer, as if she could keep him in place like that. "I know why we're doing this, and I know that Stark and Banner are brilliant in what they do. I'm not trying to try to talk you out of it. But… I'm scared. All those months I was looking for you I refused to even think that you might be gone and now… What if it doesn't work? What if something fails? What if I fail?" Her breath caught in her throat. He reached out and his hand stopped an inch from her face. She leaned into his touch, until his fingers rested on her cheek.
[You won't,] his other hand showed.
Words welled up in her throat once more. The simple honest truth. She swallowed them down, but they still rose to burn on her cheeks. She laced her fingers with his and pressed his hand closer to her face, then placed a kiss on the scar at his wrist. He never told her what it was from and she never asked, but it wasn't hard to guess.
He leaned in closer. She met him halfway, their foreheads touched, and she held onto him, her hand at the nape of his neck.
"Miss Romanoff. Loki," came Jarvis' voice from the ceiling and she groaned in frustration. "Mr. Stark insists that you should join him in the workshop if you're awake. He instructed me to tell you that everything is ready."
She sighed. They had run out of time.
The doors to the workshop remained closed when they approached. "What the hell?"
"The lab's been decontaminated already," Stark's voice said from the speaker. "There's a change of clothes and some antiseptic lotion on the table to your right. The showers are down the hallway. Go, use them, rub it in and put on the lab clothes."
Loki studied the air-sealed packages carefully. Stark's company's logo was on both the bags and the garments inside them.
"I ordered some plain uniforms without my name on them, but they didn't arrive in time. Sorry," Stark said guiltily. "This would have to do, unless you want to wait just because of that?"
[It's fine,] Loki said, [I did not understand how it worked before. I do now.] He picked up the bundle and one of the bottles.
"You too, Romanoff. Unless you want to stay outside."
She didn't, so she complied and even managed to stop the grumble that threatened its way out, then trudged after Loki down the hallway.
The room looked more like a bathroom at a public pool – plain, white tiles and open shower stalls with simple showerheads above each – than anything that she expected to find in Stark's home, but it was there to serve a purpose and she doubted it was used often.
Loki wasted no time before he started undressing, and she followed his example. She skipped the part where he folded his borrowed clothes neatly on one of the sinks though and just tossed hers onto the floor. She needed to venture into Stark's wardrobe for a fresh set anyway. Or Pepper's, now that she was here.
The water started running, quickly filling the room with steam. Loki stepped under the stream and she fought the childish urge to join in, wrap her arms around his waist and blow a raspberry between his shoulder blades, right where the scar started. The spot looked simply perfect for the purpose and the act itself seemed suitably silly to take the edge off.
She shook her head to banish the silly idea and went into the adjacent stall.
It didn't take her long, but Loki was already done, not only showering, but also drying his hair – which was quite a feat, because the towel in the bundle was handkerchief-sized – and was now trying to collect his hair into a hairnet.
"It would be easier if you used the mirror, you know," she pointed out with a smirk.
He sighed and turned, then held his reflection's gaze for a second before his eyes dashed away and his shoulders slumped.
Oh.
"Let me do it." She dragged a plastic stool from the corner of the room. He sat down and she ran her fingers through his hair, then arranged it into a loose braid. Even like that, it reached well below his shoulders and it was slowly but surely becoming unmanageable. She decided to leave that discussion for some other time. She coiled the braid into a low bun and pulled the hairnet on. "Here."
[Thank you,] he said and reached for the lotion bottle. He squeezed some of the clear liquid onto his palm, sniffed at it and his nose wrinkled.
"That's how those usually smell," she said placatingly, remembering his freak-out about the disinfectant, back in the forest house. She also hadn't asked about that, but still had enough of an idea as to the cause. "Stark wouldn't tell us to use it if it wasn't necessary."
Loki sighed and rubbed his hands together, then started applying the lotion, starting with his arms, then continuing with his neck and face, and moving to his chest.
"I feel ridiculous," she decided, grabbing the second bottle.
She did the places she could reach, then assisted Loki with his back and turned around for him to return the favor. It was ridiculous, yes, but also liberating, in a way. They were completely naked, rubbing smelly liquid into each other's skin, and yet she felt perfectly comfortable.
Loki turned away to grab the shirt and she used the distraction to press her lips to his spine and blow. She managed maybe half of her lung capacity before he jerked away and eyed her critically.
She burst into laughter.
He shook his head with pretended incredulity and proceeded to pull on his clothes, but didn't quite hold the amused huff in.
"We both know you're not really mad at me," she said and wiped tears from her eyes.
He straightened out the short sleeves of the shirt and crooked his head. [I am not. But I don't understand why you act like this, all of a sudden.]
"Because I don't want my last memory of you to be a sad one if this doesn't work out," she whispered, then added, just as quietly, "I can't believe I said it out loud."
[If you have issues with speaking out of turn, I can highly recommend one of those,] he said and waved his hand at his face, then sniggered at her horrified expression.
Be careful what you wish for, she supposed.
Most of the junk that usually adorned the workbenches of Stark's workshop was gone, and the machinery that couldn't be removed was sealed in plastic wrap. The air carried a vague, chemical scent, and the whirr of the air handlers was more prominent than usually. Banner had already prepared an array of syringes, had set them up on a rolling table and was now going through his equipment that was lying on one of the benches.
Stark stepped out of the backroom. He was wearing the same plain, white clothes as the rest of them and rubber gloves, too. "How are you feeling?"
[Like I am about to die,] Loki said, keeping his face completely neutral.
Stark eyed him carefully for a second, then chuckled. "I'm going to take the attempt at humor for a good thing."
[Take it as you wish, Stark. Can we start?]
"Eager?"
[Yes.]
"You got the papers for me?"
[I left them in our room. Natasha said she will bring it over later.]
"Okay, I was just making sure. There's no point in wasting time," Stark said apologetically, because, yeah, some stupid paperwork was a weird thing to mention in a moment like this. Still, there was some consolation in that, too. Stark believed in the success enough to worry about what happened later. "Are you ready?"
[Yes.]
"Bruce?"
"I am," Banner said quietly and rolled one of the tables over then pointed at the only chair in the room. "Sit down, please."
Loki did.
"I'm fairly sure what we're about to do is breaking not only the Hippocratic Oath, but also a couple dozen of other laws," Banner uttered, "but, for the record – or maybe just my conscience's sake – this is your last chance to turn around and step away, Loki."
[I understand,] Loki said and didn't move from his spot, surprising absolutely nobody.
"Do you also understand that, should we proceed, you're going to be given a lethal dose of a paralyzing drug and then your body will be held in sub-zero temperature until you die?"
[Yes.]
"Do you realize that the state might turn out irreversible, resulting in your permanent death?"
Loki hesitated only a fraction of second longer this time. [Yes.]
"Do you consent to the procedure?"
[Yes.] The gesture was a bit clipped, but Loki kept the emotion from showing up in his face. He understood well enough why Banner was asking the questions.
"Okay," Banner sighed. "I'll have to ask you to remove your shirt."
Loki obeyed and then didn't even flinch as Banner pried a thick needle in his arm to install an IV port. Natasha wasn't sure why they wouldn't use the one on his shoulder exclusively but didn't ask. There must've been a reason.
Banner presented a syringe. "It's an analgesic drug, for now. It might make you feel light-headed, but it should make the rest a bit easier to bear," he explained.
Loki nodded. Stark had explained the procedure to him earlier, but she wasn't there when he did, and this was about as far as Loki got in the retelling of the process before she stopped him by threatening to leave the room. Now, she had to use all her willpower to force herself to watch as Banner emptied the barrel of the syringe into the port.
The realization sunk in finally, filling her with dread. It wasn't just some concept, detached from reality. It was truly happening.
Banner stepped away and turned back to his arsenal of vials and bottles and Loki's head swayed, then his eyes narrowed. He hazily raised his arm to shield his face from the overhead lamps.
"Light hypersensitivity is one of the potential side-effects," Stark provided, then fiddled with some knobs on one of the control panels. The lights dimmed, leaving the backlight underneath the glass box in the middle as the primary source of illumination, which somehow made it even more eerie to look at.
Loki let out a relieved breath and allowed his hands to fall back to his lap. He looked up at Natasha, his eyes bleary and unfocused, but still crinkled in a smile, although at that point she couldn't tell it was a reflection of his mood or just the effects of the drug. The smile didn't waver when Banner attached contact pads to his chest, arms, forehead, and then, finally, to the metal of the gag.
Yeah, most likely the drug.
Stark pushed some buttons and the lid of the box slid open with a hiss. "It's time," he said.
Loki's legs were wobbly when he stood up and he needed assistance to get inside. He didn't protest when Stark and Banner held his arms and guided him into the container, nor when Stark fastened the leather cuffs around his wrists and ankles. He wiggled his shoulders to ease himself into a more comfortable position and didn't even pull on the belts to check whether they'd hold.
"Those are just a precaution," Stark said, as he gently buckled the last strap, the one running across Loki's shoulders – just tight enough to keep Loki from slipping it off – and Natasha was certain the words were meant more for her than for Loki. And while Natasha understood why they might be needed, it didn't ease the discomfort of seeing Loki restrained like that.
She stood back as Stark and Banner connected wires to various machines – one was a heart rate monitor that started beeping the moment Stark turned it on – and moved on to the tubes that ran from the ports – both the old one on Loki's shoulder and the new one on his arm – through the sealed opening on the side of the box and into two separate vessels, one containing the anesthetic, the other – some murky, greyish liquid. The poison, she guessed.
"We're ready to proceed," Banner said finally. "If you want to…"
She inclined her head, stepped forward and leaned over the container. Loki's eyelids were half-closed but snapped open when she brushed his hand.
"See you on the other side?" she whispered around the lump in her throat.
He nodded minutely, then reached to hold on to her hand, his arm straining against the cuff. He wrapped his fingers around her thumb and gave it a light squeeze before he let go.
"Are you ready?" Banner asked and – when Loki gave him another nod – he placed an oxygen mask over his face. It was custom-made, wider than the usual one and came with a plastic seal at the edges, to encompass the metal lodged on Loki's face.
Natasha pulled away and Loki's eyelids fell.
Her vision grew blurry, and she didn't fight the tears anymore, just let them roll down her cheeks, as the men fussed around with the machinery. The box closed and sealed, then started filling with blue-tinted, transparent liquid. It looked much like antifreeze and – for all she knew – it might as well be just that.
Banner studied the graphs on one of the monitors. "It looks like the anesthesia is holding, for now," he said. Stark gave him a terse nod, then activated the compressor, while Bruce started the drip. The walls of the container grew misty with condensation as the liquid inside cooled down, circulated through the chiller. She focused on the heartbeat monitor, its beeps growing less and less frequent.
For a while, nothing happened. Then Loki's eyes flew open, wide and wildly dashing around. His chest heaved – in short, rapid spasms – as he tried to breathe, but there was no air left in his confinement. His hands curled into fists and he struggled. His moves were sluggish and uncoordinated, and the restraints held. It was an involuntary reaction. He wasn't fighting to get away. He was fighting his own body to stay in place.
Banner rushed to adjust the flow of the drug and she turned her gaze away. She could still hear the frantic rhythm of Loki's straining limbs beating on the plastic bottom of the box, almost in sync with the heart rate. And, just like the latter, those too grew scarcer and further between.
The EKG machine wailed in alarm, for a couple of seconds, before someone muted it. And then there was only silence.
A/N: Thank you again for all the comments and kind words.
As for the question where you can read more of my stuff, the answer is: nowhere. This is my first work in this fandom and a first longer thing in English. And while I did publish my original work before, it's under my real name and I don't really want to mix those two things, I hope you understand. And again, very little of it is in English.