Thank you very much, WickedlyMinx and CurtiMcQueen8, for your reviews! I wish everyone who reads me a great time at this end of the year (and what's better to celebrate it than just writing about different kinds of emotional breakdown, am I right?)
Also, some of you will see a blunt allusion to a specific comic book in this chapter.
Enjoy!
There is no scream.
Neither Loki nor Maximov emit the slightest sound. For a second, which seems like an eternity in itself, there is no movement either.
Then, Morgan stumbles. In a sense, Loki thinks, the whole scene is flawlessly sequenced: step one, the armed drone shoots, step two, she falls.
Though Loki is not really thinking. He is not exactly able to. Only his basic instincts, hard-wired on the fight for survival, are getting the upper hand over his cognitive abilities.
If she dies, he dies. Worse, if she dies, he cannot even tell what he will be.
Morgan has fallen right where she was standing. She has not been propelled by any impact, neither has she taken a few steps before collapsing. When Loki rushes towards her, he does not even dare to touch her.
Suddenly, her rough inhalation breaks the paralysis that has taken hold of his body.
She is gasping for air, and it is visibly painful. She cannot do anything else than trying to catch her breath, and Loki does his best to position her in a way which better allows her to do so.
Tears of anguish are rolling down Morgan's cheeks, as each inspiration she takes seems to spark a surge of suffering in her body. As for Loki, he cannot cry. Neither can he talk. His eyes mechanically go down to her chest, where her right hand is firmly pressed. Rivulets of blood are trickling between her fingers. However, there is something else, which Morgan appears to be holding.
With one hand still maintaining her back, Loki carefully estimates the gravity of the wound and also feels something under his palm.
The bullet, he immediately realizes.
It is abnormally large. Also, not as solid as he would have expected.
Whatever the projectile is, it is not of the same size and resistance than those used by Midgardians in a fight, and did not cause a wound as deep as the latter usually do.
But this fact does not mean anything. The only element Loki can take into account is Morgan mechanically begging for air in his arms. Her eyes are focused on him.
He hates that.
Loki hates to see Morgan hurt and afraid. It is much more than hate. Something like ultimate repulsion is a little more accurate.
He has to make this stop, whatever the consequences are.
"Stop that!" A voice which he recalls belongs to the Scarlet Witch shouts.
She is standing right in front of the automated device, shielding Loki and Morgan, arms open.
"They were not attacking me!" She continues "They were helping me!"
"Get away from them, Wanda." Another voice resonates.
Loki has to completely turn his gaze away from Morgan, to see who has just spoken. Then, he is unsure whether or not the feral grow he hears only exists in his mind of if it comes from his own throat.
Sam Wilson is standing in the doorframe, with what seems like his battle suit on. His right hand is holding a gun, whereas his left hand is touching his right wrist, on which is fixed a small control panel. Loki can very clearly see that the subtle movements of his fingers are influencing the trajectory of the armed drone.
One thing is certain: this man only has a handful of seconds left to live.
Loki carefully lays Morgan down, so that she can focus on breathing, right behind him. Then, slowly, he stands up.
The god of Mischief is not as tall, and certainly not as imposing, as his brother the god of Thunder. However, no one has ever affirmed that he is not intimidating. And it is not this insignificant Midgardian who will dare to disagree.
"You, stay where you are!" Wilson barks, and the uncertainty in his voice is an absolute delight.
"Loki..." Maximov starts, on a worried tone.
The Witch advances her hand towards him and the memories hit him like lightning.
Red light. Nightmares, confusion, fear. Danger.
Thankfully, Loki's arm is more rapid. Maximov just has the time to cast an energy shield around her, before the impact of his punch sends her against a wall.
Next, the god's eyes revert back to Wilson. At the sight of Loki's attack, he fires three bullets -which seem to be real ones this time- at his head and chest. The impacts on his cheek, chin and shoulder are evidently not strong enough to wound him, but just enough to enrage him further.
A swift movement of Loki's hand is all it takes for one of the kitchen knives which Maximov has used beforehand to travel from the floor to Wilson's right arm. The man screams out of pain, drops his gun and immediately starts to apply pressure on the wound. Quite an impressive amount of blood is already dripping on the carpet. Loki wonders if he has managed to cut several veins, but it does not matter, he intends to kill him right away.
However, a sharp burn on his neck slows his next move. The god groans out of pain, feeling some sort of tiny hooks piercing his flesh. Out of the corner of his eyes, he notices that Wilson has managed to use his control panel, and that the burn is coming from a taser tied to his drone.
"This..." Loki snarls, despite the ache on his neck "... Is ridiculous!"
He extends his open hand towards the accursed machine, then starts to progressively close it. The structure of the machine instantly begins to crack, some sparkles appearing here and there. Loki's hand is shining with green light, and he refuses to care about the pain starting to develop in the back of his head, sign of a too intense use of his telekinetic powers. Even more, what feels like pure anger rushes into his hand, and he violently moves it away from the drone. As a result, the latter is literally ripped in two, and fuming metal pieces fall around Wilson, giving him a taster of what he is about to experience.
Loki neglectingly takes off the two little wires stuck to his neck, still staring at the Midgardian. Who is on his knees, panting, still attempting to repress the blood running from his wound, and looking at him with all the hatred he can display. At least, he is clever enough to understand that running away is useless.
The god waves his hand again and the second kitchen knife flies right at it. However, before he has the time to thrust the blade into Wilson's chest, his body is hit by a colossal force.
No need to wonder where it comes from. Loki's head is ringing, and when he looks around him, he notices that he has literally been sent through the wall of the bedroom, and is now laying, covered with dust and plaster, in the corridor of the compound.
He tries to get up as fast as he can, but his limbs are unsteady. The Witch did not pull her punches. How stupid he is to have spared her!
When he finally stands, he sees Maximov walking towards him, red light shining around both her hands.
"I won't let you kill him." She declares.
"I see..." Loki -well, the illusion Loki has just set in place- sneers "Well done, Witch. Vowing not to harm us, to let him do the work. Technically, you did not break your promise. I might borrow that one."
"I had no idea he would do such a thing!" Maximov protests, still on her guards "Listen, we can still..."
"I have listened more than enough." Loki's illusion cuts, after which Loki -the real one- emerges from behind the woman's back, ready to strike.
He almost succeeds. Almost. The Witch is taken by surprise, this is a fact, but she does possess impressive reflexes, and her powers stop his blade right in front of her eyes.
Loki cannot move. Red light is surrounding his entire body, suppressing any form of control he has. The Witch does not even need to blink for his right hand to open and drop the knife it was holding. Loki feels disgustingly powerless, as he notices how effortlessly she subdues him. However, he only starts to be truly afraid when he catches sight of her eyes.
They are shining red. Menacingly red.
"Then, I won't let you kill anyone else." She coldly declares.
Unable to resist the Witch's overwhelming power, Loki finds himself on his knees, completely unable to defend himself.
And alone.
"This is unfair..." Maximov hisses "That someone like you got to survive..."
The person he has in front of him has nothing to do with the one he saw a handful of seconds ago. Gone are the Witch's hesitation and remorse. Gone is her humanity, he might ironically add. Now, Loki is facing a killing machine.
"Were you not... sorry for that... earlier on?" He articulates, attempting to bring her doubts back.
The woman's answer downright signs his death warrant.
"Wanda will be sorry." The Witch asserts "But I won't."
This time, when she moves her hand, Loki feels his head being violently twisted to the left, and his eyes widen in fear when he guesses her intention. She is going to snap his neck, as simple as that.
There is not the slightest trace of regret in the Witch's red gaze. Rather, Loki can read... Satisfaction.
He is going to die, here and now. He cannot think. Going to die. Cannot think. Here and now.
"So, who are you?"
As soon as the metallic voice resonates in Loki's ears, the feeling of relief is so intense that he would probably have collapsed, were he not completely ensnared by the Witch's telekinetic abilities.
The position of his head makes it hard for him to have the full picture, however, he clearly catches sight of Nebula and, most importantly, of the gun she is currently pointing at Maximov -or whoever Maximov claims she is.
"You can sneak up on me too..." The Witch furiously hisses.
It takes Loki a moment to recall what she actually means by that. Evidently, the cyborg continues to possess the ability not to be seen by any sort of psychic detection, which Morgan has given her, the same way himself still benefits from this odd type of invisibility.
As for Nebula, she does not answer anything. She does not even make the slightest move, maintaining a perfect distance, not too close to Maximov, but not too far away either, which keeps her chances to miss a shot fairly low. Her face, at least what Loki can see of it, is expressing the purest kind of determination. The message is limpid: I will not play your game, or anyone else's.
"Let him go." Nebula orders.
Maximov has her back turned on Loki, as her attention is now solely focused on the cyborg. He cannot see the emotions her face is displaying, if this foreign personality, slowly emerging from the depths of the Witch's damaged mind, is able to express any emotion at all, apart from genuine sadism.
A few seconds later, Loki feels like his body is as light as a feather, and barely notices that he stumbles. Only when he touches the floor does he realizes the red light has stopped ensnaring his limbs.
"Huh... you again..." Morgan's erratic voice suddenly echoes, right behind him, which draws a sharp tension down Loki's back.
Nevertheless, when the god of Mischief stands up, he can see that the Witch is starting to lose her assertiveness, as she finds herself surrounded by three potential opponents.
"Whoever you are... you're really here..." Morgan articulates, with as much clarity as she can muster, still panting heavily.
Maximov is now staring at Morgan, with a mix of disgust and wariness.
"I am M." She finally tells.
Loki exchanges a rapid look with Nebula, who is apparently as lost as him. Then, the silence is broken by a raucous cough.
No, actually, it's laughter. Correction: it's Morgan's laughter.
It is visibly painful for her, but she cannot seem to help it. She is holding the left side of her chest, where her wound is. Were they not in such critical situation, Loki would have thrown her on the nearest bed he could find and tie her to it for the next fifteen hours.
"This is..." Morgan finally lets out "The dumbest name... ever!"
"Wanda needs me." M -since it is now a name, though Morgan is right, it really is stupid- declares.
At the sight of the Witch's hateful gaze focused on Morgan, Loki steps between the two of them. Though Morgan seems as hard to kill as he does, she has been massacred enough.
"Has she lost her mind?!" Nebula ragefully asks Morgan and Loki, while not taking her eyes off her target.
"Rather, she has found another." Loki sternly explains.
"And what does... Wanda... need you for?" Morgan painstakingly inquires.
"To protect her from people like you." M spits, her eyes growing even brighter.
"Ha!" Morgan smirks, a trickle of blood running from the right corner of her mouth "Yeah, yeah, I'm... obviously... the villain here... So... if you move... I blow your mind... literally..."
"Oh no, you won't." Says a fifth voice, evidently followed by the more than recognizable sound of an unlocked trigger guard. Some conventions never change.
Wilson again. Despite the knife in his arm, he is still able to hold a gun, directed right at Morgan's head. Typical. Loki is not even infuriated anymore. Something like weariness, rather. The man is as stubborn as a mule, or, even worse, as Thor.
And Morgan does not seem destabilized either. She gives Loki a smile where both don't worry, I know what I'm doing and I can't take it anymore can be equally read. The god of Mischief is a bit unsure of what prevails.
True, she seems about to fall. Her right hand is still holding her chest, stained by blood, and her legs are swaying a little. The fact that the wound on her skull has not re-opened yet is a meagre consolation.
Despite all of this, Morgan does not look ready to collapse. Her eyes are shining with both the golden tint created by her abilities, and a frustration which is probably about to burst.
"You really are half-baked." She tells Wilson, on a very tranquil and very threatening tone.
"And you talk too much!" M suddenly roars, before letting a shockwave of pure energy out.
The impact makes the four of them stumble, but it is not strong enough to hurt them. Out of the corner of his eye, Loki notices that both Nebula and Morgan have been thrown to the ground but seem relatively unscathed (rather, in Morgan's case, no more than she already is).
However, when multiple objects, such as shards of glass and chunks of what previously was a wall, start to fly around the Witch, whose gaze conveys nothing but ferocity, things start to get slightly more tensed.
Even Wilson seems to get it.
"Wanda?" He articulates "What are you..."
"She's turning delirious, can't you see?!" Nebula shouts at him.
The Witch is now staring at Morgan and Loki, as red light surrounds her entire body, making her slowly levitate.
"You should never have come." M threatens.
Loki immediately feels Morgan's hand on his forearm, as she rushes next to him. He has no time to ask her what she exactly has in mind that she extends her right index finger towards the Witch, as if she only wanted to point her out.
"Backwards." Morgan commands, with a loud and clear voice, deeper than the one she usually has.
The effect is immediate. Not only does the light stop flickering around Maximov, but her eyes briskly lose their brightness. She collapses on the floor, visibly unconscious.
Also, all the lights in the corridor instantly turn off.
The dim evening glow is not of a tremendous help. The compound hallway has unexpectedly been plunged into darkness, and Loki can hardly discern Morgan, next to him, as well as Nebula, a few feet away.
"What the...? What did you...?" Sam Wilson (oh right, that one is still here) stammers, visibly dumfounded.
Without a word, to make sure that the Midgardian will not attempt anything else, Loki walks towards him, takes the gun he is still holding, and breaks it in two. A loud bang echoes in the corridor, as the god can feel the weapon crushing under his fingers.
Then, he takes a long, disdainful look at the man, who has fallen on his knees again, groaning out of pain.
"I think I have been explicit enough." Loki warns.
Next, he turns towards Morgan, well, the blurry Morgan-shaped shadow he can distinguish, who is fortunately still on her feet.
"Are you alright?" He speaks, while simultaneously realizing how stupid his question is.
"Don't... think so..." Morgan hesitates.
"Is she dead?" Nebula asks, coming closer to them, and pointing at the human-sized form laying on the ground (Maximov, that is).
"No..." Morgan answers "She's not dead... I just... pushed the other away... I'm sorry, I need... to sit down..."
Loki helps her leaning against the wall, then sits next to her, as Morgan progressively recovers a somehow steady breath. He can start to distinguish her face, which is marked by pain. Her well-known migraine is probably adding up to the pain she already feels in her chest.
"Did she attack you again?" Nebula questions, not putting her gun away.
"Yeah... but this time... this moron felt compelled... to intervene..."
"You better not start to play the victim!" The aforesaid moron (Wilson of course, who else?) suddenly spits.
"I'll shoot you with a rubber bullet from your own fucking drone and you'll see... that you can play the victim much better than me!" Morgan reacts.
"I am afraid you won't be able to do that." Loki alerts.
"Why?"
"I already tore his drone to pieces."
Morgan coughs a little, current equivalent of a laugh. She really does her best; Loki can see how frustrating it is for her not to be able to speak clearly.
"Alright..." Morgan sighs "The cavalry is coming... I think we're in... for a lot of trouble... once again..."
"The usual." Nebula shrugs.
Despite, rather, because of, the anxiety he currently feels, Loki cannot repress a grin.
Bring it on.
