Serpentine nausea writhed through my belly before edging up my throat. I awake gagging and heaving. Bile corroding whatever it touched.
"Whoa, I got you. " a voice panicked. A bucket was thrust into my lap. I wretched, draining the contents of my stomach. I ended up dry heaving for a little longer afterwards. My nose, eyes, and mouth leaking with viscous fluids. Sweat marred my face. My hands were clammy as I struggled to keep a grip on the bucket. My muscles were weak and tired. Did I have a fever?
Just when I thought I was done, my stomach curdled once more. After another minute of vomiting, I sank back into the plush white cot I found myself in. Someone took the bucket and set it besides me. It was hard to see. The blaring white lights assaulted my eyes. I had to blink a couple of times before they adjusted. I was able to recognize the figure besides me as someone of authority, but authoritarian. Gentle hands rubbing together anxiously, and they paced the length of the cot.
Nervousness. Anxiety. The musky scent of a man who works too much and keeps to himself. The smell of powered latex. Doctor's gloves. The room was clean-no, sterile. Dr. Banner.
I could just make out his scruff of black hair and the sheen of a stethoscope reflecting the offensive lights of the infirmary. His white lab coat appearing almost angelic with the artificial glow around him.
"We have to stop meeting like this," I quipped. Talking hurt. It felt like my voice was made of glass, scratching the inside of my throat.
"What the hell happened, Elaina?" Banner replied. I flinched at his harsh tone. It was the kind of voice my dad would use when I got caught skipping school. That frustration with the overbearing inflection of concern.
"I don't know," I sighed.
"We have twenty people sick with nausea and abdominal pain. All fell over sick to their stomach and screaming, mysteriously, at the same time you burst into my lab and collapse. 'I don't know' doesn't exactly help," he snapped.
Twenty people? Fire pierced my stomach. My chest filled with dread. This shouldn't happen anymore. I had it all under control. I'm supposed to take pain, not cause it.
I could still hear the gun shot ringing in the back of my head. It's the kind of sound that doesn't fade away, it just gets quieter over time. I looked at my left wrist. Half of a raised pink scar that stopped just before the vein. A symbol of cowardice and a sacrifice I didn't deserve. I pressed my nails into my palm. I hadn't the strength to make a whole fist, but I had the fury.
"Hey," Dr. Banner said quietly. He placed a hand on my shoulder. I turned my gaze to him. I could almost see his face. Creased with worry. His soft hazel eyes encumbered with concern and kindness. "What's going on?"
My lungs fluttered when I breathed. I took in a long shaky breath and managed to tell Banner everything. Everything he didn't already know. It was hard talking about Andy. Talking about he did to me and what I may have done to him in return. The explosion of misery that infected him like a disease. My attempt that became his execution.
"That wasn't your fault," Banner tried to comfort me, but it wasn't working. I gave him a faint smile, so I didn't hurt his feeling.
"I wish that were true," I sighed, "but clearly, when my emotions get the best of me, they get out of control and hurt other people."
Banner took off his glasses, pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed before slipping them back on. "We'll have to do some research on that. For now, just rest. Okay?" he helped me reclined into a comfortable position and even tucked me in. "I'm going to let Hanna know you're awake."
My heart froze. "Why?"
"She's been asking about you all day," he said. Banner stood up from his crouched position and paced again, twiddling with his thumbs. I watched his brow crease with worry again. "She's worried about you. We sort of had an emergency come up." Banner tipped toed around a confession he didn't have the strength to make.
"You can tell me. It'll be okay." I tried to reassure him, but his face let me know he wasn't convinced. It didn't matter, he had to tell me anyway.
"Loki's missing."
My insides slithered and writhed as my nerves shook uncomfortably inside my skin. A chill whirled in the air, so cold I thought time had frozen. "Missing how?"
Banner shifted uneasily. "Agent Hanna was escorting him to her office and he apparently slipped his cuff and attacked her before vanishing. You should've seen her. She was pretty beat up."
"No," I sharply proclaimed. "He wouldn't do that unless he had a reason."
I watched Banner's kind face fold into disappointment. He looked away from me. "I was afraid you'd say that. Look, kid, I know you liked the guy, and he was nice to you, or whatever, but Loki's not a good guy. I'm surprised he went this long without stabbing someone in the back." He folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "He was manipulating you."
Wasn't it really so hard to believe that Loki would attack and vanish like that? He had no problem taking all those lives back in 2012, what was roughing up a shield agent and breaking some jewelry? Just a few hours ago, I was on the verge of losing all confidence in him. So where did this anger come from? Why was I so mad at Banner for saying that could've been true?
"I'm sorry, kid," Banner finished before slipping out the door. I listened to his footsteps fade as the low droning of fluorescent lights drowned them out.
I stewed in disturbance. An observer settled on the sidelines of the battlefield as the opposing sections of my brain waged war with each other. Rational versus irrational. Love versus logic. The decision to wait patiently for Agent Hanna and listen to her side of the story or get up and follow the growing urgency in my gut. Something was wrong. There was a storm of chaos brewing inside Avenger's Tower. An evil shade stood at the helm. I just couldn't make out the figure.
Was Hanna truly an ancient celestial evil dragged here by happenstance and greed? Was Loki just a conniving schemer who can't pass an opportunity for more power? Was I just a pawn in it all?
My stomach churned. The battle raged on, furiously trying to persuade me to one side. Why couldn't it be simple?
There was a phantom pain lingering inside. Dull and concealed by the very real pain wrenching my organs. My ribs felt bruised, my wrists sore and frail, as if at any given moment my skin would rip like paper and bleed. There was an uncomfortable warmth that flushed my cheeks. The kind of heat that let you know you were sick, or in pain. A swollen heat, like my eyes were going to bulge out of my skull.
Whose pain was this? Hanna's? Or...?
She knocked gently on the door before entering. "How are you feel?" Agent Hanna with a look of concern.
I tried with everything in me to focus on her. There had to be something in there. Anything. A shred of emotion that she couldn't hide.
Nothing.
I couldn't tell whether her sympathetic gaze was genuine or just a mask. Her eyebrows were tense with worry, but her dark eyes were as hollow as ever. She approached cautiously, pulling up a plastic chair, and sitting beside the cot.
"I'll be fine," I replied.
She had a cut on her eyebrow that was stitched with medical tape. A split lip and a grotesque yellow bruise around her left eye. Her right cheek had a small swollen bump protruding with a short thick gash as well.
She noticed me starring. With a frail touch, Hanna ran a finger over her bruise. "It looks worse than it feels. You should see the other guy," she snorted a weak laugh. My eyes filled with concern. "I'm sorry. I know you were...fond...of Loki," she replied slowly.
"What happened?"
"Exactly what I expected. He saw an opportunity and he took it. I let my guard down for a second and he pounced. I can't say I blame him. It's in his nature. Once a villain, always a villain," she reclined in her seat, crossing her arms as she spoke. Each word was dagger in my chest.
"Where did he go?" I asked.
Hanna shrugged. "Once he slipped out of his cuff, he disappeared. He could still be in the building or miles away. We have officers combing the tower for any trance of him. We shut down the facility and put out a massive A.P.B. on him." There was a moment of silence. The cold steel wiggling deeper into my chest. "Actually," she began, shifting in her seat. She leaned in close, craning over the side of the cot. Her voice went quiet as a whisper. "I hate to ask, but, did he talk to you about an escape plan at all?"
Yes, I thought. Was it safe to tell her though? Would it implicate me? Was I an accomplice? I shook my head. Hanna's eyes were cold and severe. They narrowed in on mine like a hawk. I tried to pull away, but I couldn't escape the burning doubt that boiled my veins. Her gaze only made it worse.
"Elaina, did he tell you anything at all? About why he was on Earth? What he was chasing?"
I shook my head again.
Recoiling back into her chair, Hanna throw a leg over her knee, and clicked her tongue behind her teeth. Ice trickled down my spine. Her fingers tightened around her arms, flexing her bloodied and bruised knuckles as if she were warning me. Threatening me. I hadn't been in a physical fight since high school. Even then, I don't think I won. There was no way I could hold my own against Agent Hanna, possessed or no. If she chose violence, I didn't have many options.
"I suppose it doesn't matter what he told you or hid from you. You were close to him. Too close as far as S.H.I.E.L.D. is concerned. You are a liability now," she sighed calmly.
"You told me to keep close to him. To gather information. To learn about him and befriend him," I exclaimed.
"Yes, I did, and you're welcome for it. You seemed to have a fun time. Going on dates to that cozy little diner. Cozying up in your dorm for hours. You weren't exactly hiding your feelings, Elaina. Despite what you think, you're not very good at it, obviously since twenty agents are in the hospital because you can't keep them in check," Hanna sneered. I flinched, visibly wounded by her jab. She sighed, relaxing her shoulders as her vocal anger was replaced by stillness. "I don't want to hurt you, Elaina. Believe it or not, I want to keep you safe."
I couldn't tell who was speaking to me then. I didn't know if I believed Loki's story about possession, but, something unsettling flickered in her eyes. Some faint, almost astral glow. It came and went so suddenly, but I caught it, and it scared me. A shiver passed over me. My face fell clammy and pale. A stark sickly cold as the blood flowed from my cheeks, disappearing into a weak tremble.
Hanna placed the back of her hand on my forehead. She wasn't cold or warm. She felt like nothing. Just more nothing. I almost hoped that when we touched, it would be half as invasive as what occurred between Loki and myself, but Hanna was just neutral. Skin-to-skin, with all my attention on her, there was nothing.
"You don't have a fever. That's good. Come with me, I'll take you somewhere safe," she hummed. Her placid hand cupped my cheek as if she were trying to cull my sickness.
"This is the safest place for me right now," I protested.
Her touch became warm, almost kind, luring my head into her palm in a relaxed state. I felt...tired. Heavy with a sudden lethargic weight pulling me into her hand, I wanted to close my eyes. I fought the urge. "Do you feel safe right now?" Hanna asked. Her voice echoing in my ears, overlapping in various pitch, like a chorus starting on different beats.
"Banner will watch me," I whispered. My voice became lazy, droning into a soft whisper.
"Banner's gone," she replied.
Gone...gone...gone...Banner...Banner...gone...Banner...
The stentorian lights above me seemed to multiply. Dueling orbs spiraling around the ceiling. I tried to focus on Hanna, but I couldn't figure out which one to keep an eye on. "Loki will..." the words trailed over my tongue, but never made a sound. My eyes began to flutter close.
"Sweet girl, Loki is dangerous," her dissonance of voices rang. Danger...Loki...danger... "If he finds you, he'll kill you."
Loki...killer...dangerous...kill you...Loki...danger...
I shook my head, my skull felt like lead as it rattled against her hand. Before I could fall free, Hanna quickly clasped hand between both hands and held me there. "That's not true," I insisted. A cold wind pushed into my lungs, making it harder to breathe.
"I'll take you somewhere safe," Hanna cooed. I felt her arm slip under me, lifting me out of the bed with ease. Were my legs moving? I couldn't tell.
Safe...from Loki...safe...danger...Loki...killer...gone...somewhere...
The harsh white orbs of the infirmary dissipated as I was pulled from the room. I could barely make out the white and navy walls of the hallway. The bold red medical cross passed by in a blur. My eyes would focus. I couldn't feel my body moving, but we passed a hundred different door. She took me down a dozen flights of stairs. The air turned frigid and damp. A metallic taste hit my tongue. There was the loud buzzing of flicking lights, like flies crashing into a bug zapper.
"I have a surprise for you," Hanna whispered in my ear. Surprise...Loki...for you...surprise...danger... "Have you ever wondered by Thor's last name is Odin-son and Loki's name is Laufey-son? Didn't that strike you as odd?" Loki...Laufey...Thor...danger...
"No," I whispered.
Lights all but disappeared. Faint flickering bulbs screwed into the walls, covered in metal cages were our only passaged down the final flights of stairs. I regained a small echo of feeling. Cold scurried along my skin, soaking into my veins like frozen rain. We stopped. Hanna opened a heavy door and led me inside, slamming it closed behind us.
"Do you know about the realm of giants?" Hanna whispers.
"Jotun..." I trailed before falling to my knees. The air here was so dense it felt like breathing cement. The room was a big mess of colors and orbs, circling around each other to make a vague disorganized picture.
"Jotunheim, yes. Very good, darling. You're so smart," she jeered. "What do you know about the giants?" she circled around and crouched in front of me. "I'll take a stab and assume you've never seen one. Or...have you?" As my vision centered, I saw Hanna's face, smooth tanned skin only slightly pleaded with an amused smirk. Her black eyes waxing to a scaly red hue.
"What are you talking about?" I panted through the pain. I inhaled the viscid rust flavored air as pins and needles pricked the inner walls of my stomach. I held my breath, scared of what hell would wash over me if I exhaled. The acrid scent lingered on my tongue making me gag.
Hanna gripped a fistful of my hair and yanked my head, so I'd look forward. Two vague bodies, one broad with overworked muscles, the other lithe and bruised, hung by their arms from the ceiling. Chains fixed around their wrists, attached to nothing but darkness.
"Look at your lover, sweet girl. Isn't it repulsive?" she hissed. Lover...repulsive...disgusting...Jotun...
The rasping babel swirled through my brain as my eyes strained to concentrate. Finally, my dazed vision snapped back. I peered between the two men hanging before me. Thor Odinson, the golden child of Asgard and defender of mankind, beaten and bloodied. His head drooped to his chest, long unkept hair hanging over his face. He wasn't so much a blond anymore. Red muck caked his hair from a wound on the side of his head. Blood and filth pooled below him. He reeked of burnt flesh, open sores, and vomit.
Dangling besides him from sore bleeding wrists was Loki. His skin was an asphyxiated blue. At first, I feared the worst, but then I noticed his chest weakly heaving up and down. Tired breaths wheezing in and out of his lungs. Blood and drool dripped from his opened mouth as he struggled to lift his head. One eye was swollen shut, skin darkened with purple and yellow bruises as blood seeped from his eyebrow. His other eye flickered open revealing a blood red gaze peering out at me. An obsidian pupil fixed inside a sea of scarlet. The cold blue eyes I knew were gone.
"Loki?" I managed.
His face dropped as he turned away. Disappointment and anguish radiating off him as he cursed under his breath.
"Do you see the ridges on his face? If I remember the legend correctly, each line represents a life taken by their hand. But that can't be right...else he'd be nothing but scars."
Scars...life...taken...blood...Loki...danger...blood
"Stop," I choked as Hanna pulled my head up higher.
"Stop what? Do you not like seeing your beloved in his natural form? Of course not, you rather turn a blind eye to the truth, but I'll make you look. See?" Hanna dragged me across the floor, scraping my skin against the coarse stone. I cried to yell but my mouth went dry, the sound like nails grating against my throat. She held me up to my feet, forcing me into Loki's face. "The Frost Giants are known monsters in the Nine Realms. Cold, unfeeling barbarians who dwell inside a frozen wasteland where all they do is fight and fuck and fight some more. They're the shadows lurking in the dead of night. The monsters in stories we tell our children to make them behave. This is who he is without his Aesir glamour," she cackled darkly into my ear.
He was still Loki. Same sharp and elegant features. Same cut jawline and wavy raven hair.
I reached out and cupped his cheek, passing my thumb along the vertical ridges under his eyes. They trailed down from lid to his jaw like trails of tears etched into his skin. "I'm sorry," he heaved. He closed his eyes and leaned his head into the warmth of my palm.
"It's okay," I replied.
I was thrown back. I hit the ground with a heavy smack against the concrete. Wind ripped from my lungs on impact.
"Don't touch her!" Loki rasped. His chains clanged together as he lurched forward.
"Or what?" Hanna scoffed. Her boot jammed its way into my ribcage with a swift kick. "Oh no, this must hurt twice as much for you, since, you feel everything he feels, right? Your body probably already feels pretty sore."
Another kick. I was tossed back to my side as I crossed my arms over my ribs. I gasped painfully for air as it thickened in my lungs. It felt like drowning and suffocating all at once. My body screamed for solace, but it wouldn't come. "Stop!" Loki cried. I could feel his anger burning deep within. His pain. His regrets. I was becoming one of them. If he hadn't approached me, if he hadn't cared for me, I wouldn't be a weakness.
"Will you tell me where you hid the sword?" Hanna asked. I tried to pull myself up to my knees, but she quickly stomped on my back, pressing her foot down on my spine to keep me pinned. "Not now, darling, the elders are speaking."
"I don't know where it is. It's lost," Loki pleaded with shrill conviction. "Gods, just stop! She didn't do anything."
"She loves you, boy. That makes her quite valuable." Hanna pressed harder into my spine. I felt a crack. A sharp surge of pain splintered through my chest like my ribs were about to break. "Tell me where it is, or I'll break her spine." I could hear the smile in Hanna's voice.
"I don't know, I swear. I tried calling to it and it didn't appear. It's lost to me, which means, it's gone! Do you understand? It's gone!"
"How disappointing."
There was pressure, a break, and then nothing. For a moment it felt like searing hot irons were wedged between my vertebrae, shattering them out of place. It rippled through my body. This tremendous force of crushing pain. Then it numb. Cold dark nothingness. I felt this before, that day when we met. When Loki so brazenly touched his thumb to my lip.
I was swept beneath a current of freezing waters, black as ink, and empty as a starless sky. There was no longer pain here. No fear. Nothing but cold darkness and the weighted feeling of being pulled to the bottom of the abyss. I watched the light above the surface shrank into the tiniest pin prick of white.
His arms coiled around me. The only source of warmth here. I already knew. I didn't have to look at his face or recognize the scent of blood it pulled through my nose. Andy.
"You can't leave me," he roared.
"I know," I somberly whispered.
"I'll never leave you,"
"I know...I'm sorry,"
"I know," he crooned as we sank deeper and deeper into the darkness.