"I've been promised a challenge," Natasha said, sitting down in the chair in front of Loki's cell. The SHIELD agent who came before her had left it behind when they fled the scene in tears after some cutting remark from their prisoner. She crossed her legs and examined her fingernails critically. She'd have to schedule a manicure after this bullshit was over. "This is highly anticlimactic."

When she checked the feed ten minutes ago, he was still pacing the glass enclosure, shooting nasty glares at the cameras occasionally. As if he owned the place.

Then she came down and found… This.

Loki, huddled in the middle of the floor, hugging his legs, with his face hidden in his arms, rocking back and forth like a four-year-old with separation anxiety.

She watched him through slanted eyes for a couple of minutes, trying to figure out what made him change his play from the looming, grinning conqueror to this and what it was supposed to achieve. Was he trying to lure her into opening the cell and use it to escape?

She pulled out her phone and checked the feed to see if it wasn't an illusion and found out, with a bit of disappointment, that no, it was not.

The whole magic thing was fascinating and it was a shame their guest used it so uncreatively.

"Come on, this is no fun," she goaded.

It achieved absolutely zilch.

She sighed, got up and went to stand closer to the division, then tapped the glass. "Hey, Earth to wherever-the-fuck-in-space, you still with us?"

Loki's shoulders shook with a suppressed shudder, but he didn't look up or move from his position.

She sat back in the chair, pondering on her options. She could call it in, but Fury had the feed and he knew what was happening and he would recall her if something came down to change her mission objective. Or she could stay and still try to get him to talk, somehow.

On the other side of the glass, Loki's limbs unfurled and his shaky fingers wandered up to fumble with the clasp of his coat. He fussed with the buckles for a moment, then tore the cloak off and started an uneven fight with the laces of his tunic.

He was sitting facing the side, so all she could see was his profile, but it was enough to register the blind desperation painting on his face. His chest was heaving, his shoulders shook and his lips were gasping for air like a fish out of water.

Only then she realized what she was looking at. It wasn't a game, nor a trick, nor a cleverly crafted ruse. Loki, the Norse god of mischief and chaos and whatever else it was, was having a panic attack.

"Hey!" she called, banging on the glass once again, not trying to be subtle this time. "Loki!"

That, finally, got some sort of reaction. He froze and his eyes slowly focused. First on her, then dashed around, taking in the room. The panicked confusion on his face slowly gave way to dark realization, just for a brief moment, before it snapped to a carefully crafted, neutral mask.

His lips curled back into a nasty smile. "Agent Romanoff."

She laughed. It would be a valiant attempt if she didn't see what she just saw. "Nope, that ship has sailed. I'm not going to play this game with you."

"Too bad, I was looking forward to it," he said, crossing his legs and turning to her. The deep shadows slowly faded from under his eyes and the reddened skin around his mouth, eyes and throat turned back to pale. He was hiding it with some kind of magic, but it was already too late for that. She has already seen what she wasn't supposed to.

"How about you tell me what this freak-out was all about instead?"

He laughed a mirthless laugh devoid of any humor. "You came here to play a therapist?"

"I came here to trick the truth about your purpose here out of you, but it looks like we have a more burning issues than that to settle. What are those marks on your throat?"

"What marks?"

"Do I look like a fool?"

He tilted his head and regarded her through narrowed eyes for a moment. "No," he said with a pleasant smile, as fake as his composure.

"So?"

"I tripped and fell."

"On a garotte?"

He huffed out a laugh. "You've got a keen eye, Agent Romanoff. Is your expertise limited to objects used for inflicting pain?"

"I know a thing or two about what happens after they are used, too."

"Oh. Is that a threat or a promise? Should I rather be excited or concerned about my wellbeing?"

"You should be telling me about the person who did that to you," she bit back without missing a beat. Her comm-link rustled and she muted it. Fury could wait.

"What makes you think…"

"Cut the crap. You missed your chance at making an impression. I know what I saw. What was it that triggered you? The enclosure? The lights? The noise?"

He scoffed in indignation and his fingers wandered up to fix his shirt, tying the laces back up.

"Huh?"

"The air. It got too hot," he said quietly without looking up at her.

She wandered back to the control panel of the cage. The containment cell had a standalone temperature control and a dedicated air handling unit and indeed, the person who was here before her had turned the heating on, perhaps because they were flying high and the lower deck was rather drafty. It was still at seventy-five degrees, so far from uncomfortable. She turned it off anyway.

"I wouldn't take you for a fussy, spoiled child," she jibed, sitting back down.

"I'm a prince, am I not?" he said and the corner of his lips rode up ever so slightly.

"Are you, though? Thor was a little vague on the details."

He laughed with a careless roll of his shoulders. "I don't know. I guess not, not anymore."

"You want to tell me about it?"

"No."

"How about the person who sent you here?"

He raised an eyebrow. "That's quite a big leap to conclusion."

"Oh, please. You're too smart to think you could indeed rule Earth alone. Some small, third world country could perhaps be doable, but the whole planet? You know how many people there are?"

"Way too many, the last time I checked," he smirked. "Thank you for the idea."

"Do not change the subject."

"I'm not. But it doesn't matter. The plan had already been set into motion. You can't stop it and I've already played my part."

"We can still solve it. It's not too late to step away."

He turned his gaze away, fixing it on some unspecified point beyond the glass. "It was too late before I even came here. He will get what he wants, whether I'm here to deliver it or not."

"Who is it?"

He chortled.

"You can either stay in your cage and watch as we deal with the rest of your band of drones, or you can talk to me."

"Whatever for?"

"We can offer you protection from whoever is pulling your strings."

He laughed again and it sounded even more ingenuine.

"SHIELD can be very forgiving, too," she added.

"You'd know."

"Yes, I would."

He blinked at her, momentarily taken aback, before he controlled his reaction. He sighed and turned his head down, staring at his hands. He stayed like this, taking careful, deep breaths, trying to control whatever reaction he was currently experiencing.

"Loki?"

"Hmm?"

"Your nose."

He reached up and wiped the blood away, smearing it across his cheek.

"What is that?"

He shrugged, then took in another long breath. "The Scepter control is wearing off," he said, quietly. His voice sounded different now, without the condescension and disdain from seconds ago. "And my master is not happy about it."

It was her turn to blink at him with a dumbfounded expression. "Are you saying…"

"You should remove it from the ship as quickly as possible. Have Thor handle it. He might not be the greatest mage, but I taught him a thing or two."

She watched him through half-closed eyelids without a word. It could still be a part of the game.

He looked up at her, his eyes narrowed. "Isn't this what you wanted? Isn't that what you came here for?"

"Maybe. I'm trying to decide whether you're bullshitting me or not."

"I'm not."

"Why?"

He ran his hand across his face and through his hair. "I'm tired. Of running, of hurting, of surviving. You said it yourself. I wasted my chance. I cannot win this. Why postpone the inevitable?"

"Is this an official surrender?"

He shrugged again.

"Loki?"

He hummed out something that might have been a confirmation.

"Will you attack me if I open the cage?"

"Will you trust me if I say I won't?"

She smiled. "I suppose we will both have to find that out as we go."