All characters, places, and events you recognize belong to Marvel, Disney, etc.

Thanks to dristi5683 for being a sounding board.


Day 127...continued

Puente Antiguo, New Mexico

"This one's dead, too." The slightly-built man pointed at a tiny black box, mounted under her work table. "Looks like the battery just died. It's not hard-wired, so it's no use to those bastards now."

Jane handed the man a cup of coffee, then took a sip from her own. "So how many did you find total?"

"Three, none of them transmitting. I'm guessing someone got in here a while ago and planted these and hasn't been able to change them out."

"Well, they haven't had a chance. I haven't left in a long time."

"Yeah, okay. So you're clean in here. Your laptop has heavy-duty spyware on it. Keep using it for work, so they don't get suspicious, right? Use the new computer and those procedures I showed you for anything you don't want SHIELD to see. Your phone is good. The GPS tracker I found on the van has, you know, miscalibrated itself. It can happen from time to time, so it shouldn't raise any red flags. Just watch for anyone poking around where they don't need to be."

He chugged the hot coffee and handed her the mug with no thanks.

"I gotta go. You need something, you know how to reach me."

"Thanks. You've been a lifesaver. Hey—say hi to Skye for me, will ya?"

He merely grunted and hoisted his canvas knapsack to his back. Jane saw him out the door and lingered as he drove away, peering out at the fading light. Dusk came early this time of year. Stars were already beginning to dust across the sky. The surreal shapes of the Milky Way would be visible soon. The Draconids were at their peak this week. She loved meteor showers.

"Come on, Jane," she whispered. "You don't have to stay up all night. Dusk is the best time to see the Draconids. You could make a thermos of coffee and take a blanket up to the roof. What do you say?"

Jane felt completely stupid, talking to herself, but it had worked to motivate her earlier. This time, she just sighed. Nothing. She headed back into the darkness of her lab—she had real work to do.

oooOOOooo

Comparing seismic readings and observations of solar flares reminded her of the proverbial apples and oranges. One was earthbound, the other celestial. For every earthquake, she had to determine the precise location and time of origin, then plot it on her map and chart. And solar flares were more complicated. Calculating the time of origin involved graphs and lists and equations comparing the position of the Earth in relation to the Sun at that day of the year when the phenomenon was observed, and then factoring in the time it took the light to travel from the Sun. The numbers blurred on the page.

Jane scrubbed at her eyes and yawned. She glanced at the clock. Nine seventeen? How many all-nighters had she pulled through the years? Yeah, but that was before insomnia and purgatory.

"Focus. Get through one more column."

Five minutes later she jerked awake, nearly falling off her office chair. Ugh. That was it. Jane pushed back from the work table and stretched.

"Ow," she said to herself, rubbing a sore spot on her chest. Frowning, she unbuttoned her shirt and peered down at herself. An angry red line marked the skin over her heart.

Jane strode to the bathroom and examined the small wound in the mirror. She sighed—she must have scratched herself while she dreamed of being stabbed. During the worst of her PTSD episodes, she had frequently clawed herself while asleep. It hadn't happened in a couple of weeks. That was progress, right?

A short while later she emerged from the bathroom freshly scrubbed and brushed, dressed in comfy flannel pjs and her green robe. Fluffing her pillows, she sunk down into her nest and reached under the couch for the e-reader she'd stuffed there.

As a child, Jane had loved fairy tales. She had always believed there was more to this world than what could be touched or seen. Once that belief had found a channel in science, she had set the stories aside, disdaining fiction for fact. During her last visit, Darcy suggested that she try reading something besides physics journals to give her mind a change of pace. Jane found she was drawn again to fairy tales, comforted this time by their naivety.

Several minutes later, the Destroyer slams into Puente Antiguo. Terror pours through well-worn channels in Jane's heart and lungs and belly. She turns to run but collides with the leather-covered chest of the dark stranger. He grasps her waist and she shakes her head in denial.

"You can stop this." Even in the midst of this chaos, his velvet voice reaches her clearly.

Jane tries to push away, but he is too strong. She shakes her head frantically. "No, no, I can't. It hurt me—I still have the mark. Let me go. I have to hide!"

Volstagg's screams echo down the canyon of the main street.

"You have to stop this. Algiz. Say it. Face the Destroyer and say Algiz."

Panic grips her throat. "Let me go!" She kicks and flails. The stranger forces her to turn around, sliding his hands to secure an iron grip on her shoulders.

He whispers, "Algiz."

Sobbing cries of agony reach Jane, ripping at her heart. Sif! Tears pour unchecked down her face.

"How many more will die, Jane? Say. It. Now." His grip tightens, becomes painful. Jane squirms, but he does not let her go.

She chokes out, "Al...giz."

"Now Sowilo."

The monster emerges from the smoky haze. It swings its head from side to side until it finds her.

The stranger shakes her. "Jane—Sowilo!"

Her teeth clack together and her voice catches in her throat, but she rasps, "Sowilo."

"Hagalaz, Jane."

One of its legs buckled, the Destroyer limps toward her. Erik suddenly appears and runs in its path.

Jane reaches her hand out, clawing ineffectually. "No, Erik!"

"Say Hagalaz!"

But she is transfixed by the hell unfolding around her. Erik is gutted and cast aside. The Destroyer continues its inexorable, if crippled, march. It is near enough to feel the heat. Jane can only stare, wild-eyed and mute.

The stranger shoves her behind him and calls out, "Hagalaz! Thurisaz! Uruz!"

Immediately the Destroyer collapses. Before the clanging of the crashing metal has ceased, the mysterious man rounds on her and catches her just as her knees give way. She feels his arms like steel bands supporting her, she smells his heady scent of leather and pine, she hears his restrained growl, "Get us out of here, Jane."

Jane doesn't understand. Her van is back at the lab; how can she take them anywhere? Escape does sound lovely, though, escape to somewhere away from this carnage, this hot sun.

Cool air ruffles her hair, darkness soothes her raw eyes. Jane frantically pushes on his chest until he slides her to the ground. She sees forest and a wide river sparkling under the light of millions of stars. "What—how did I get here? Where's the Destroyer? Where is Puente Antiguo?"

"Jane." The stranger steps in front of her. "Look at me."

Fresh panic sluices through her. What is happening? Who is this?

"Jane," he repeats, and takes firm hold of her chin.

She avoids his eyes at first. But he doesn't let her go, and eventually her eyes stray to his face to take in his towering height, the coal-black hair tumbling to his shoulders, the high, sharp cheekbones, and the green eyes, somehow brilliant emerald even in this darkness.

"Oh," Jane breathes, "it's you."

"It's me," he affirms, and caresses her jawline with his thumb before releasing her.

Her eyes stay locked on his. "So this is a dream."

"Yes."

Jane frowns and rubs her aching shoulders where his grip had been too tight. "You hurt me."

"Regrettably, yes. You wanted to run, but you needed to stay and face your fear."

"Was it all a dream? Was the De—that monster—real?"

The stranger speaks slowly. "The Destroyer is real. Your nightmares are not."

"Is Thor dead?"

For the briefest moment, Jane imagines that a terrible shadow twists his face. "He survived the Destroyer."

"But is he dead?"

A sharp scowl creases his pale brow. "What does it matter?"

Jane blinks, confused.

He closes his eyes briefly. When he opens them, his expression is blank. "I apologize. I know that you—I know you did the best you could."

He reaches one elegant hand to smooth stray strands off her forehead, then trails a finger down her cheek. "Sweet Jane, where have you brought us?"

Jane knocks his hand away and bites: "Don't patronize me. I don't know where we are, okay? And I don't care. I want to wake up. Teach me how to do that, why don't you?"

oooOOOooo

Cold sand shifted under his furious pacing. Hands clenched, brows drawn tight, Loki muttered under his breath. This woman had fawned over his oafish not-brother. Yet when he treated her the way that Thor had treated women for centuries, with displays of dominance, she became angry. She wasn't as simple as she had appeared, but he had no time for complications. What did she want?

oooOOOooo

Jane sat up, her e-reader thunking to the floor. The incantation. This time, she had recognized the words as runes from the Old Norse language. Erik had taught them to her as a fun code language when she was a girl. She groped for the notebook which she always kept beside the couch at night. Write the words down. Jane summoned the memory of her nightmare, ignoring the slight acceleration of her heart.

There was Algiz: protection, a shield, defense. Then Sowilo: success, health, wholeness. Jane closed her eyes and willed herself to remember. Hagalaz: destructive natural forces. What was next? The stranger had said the last two words so fast she hadn't caught them. Jane growled in frustration. Perhaps her own subconscious had created him, but she didn't want to be dependent on the mercurial interloper any longer than she had to.

Her phone glowed the time: 1:23 a.m. "Please let me go back to sleep," she whispered. She lay back down, her mind playing the dream over and over.

oooOOOooo

Day 128

Puente Antiguo, New Mexico

A lump in the pit of her stomach told her this had been a wild goose chase. After spending a couple of days analyzing and comparing data from earthquakes and space events, Jane could not draw a single conclusion about their relationship to the Tesseract. Seismic events didn't appear to correlate to Tesseract activity at all. Some of the solar flares might be related, but some of them weren't. It wasn't enough to give Erik. There was something she was missing, but she didn't even know where to begin looking for it.

Her elbow bumped the plate sitting on her desk. She smiled, remembering how Isabel had had to bang on the lab door to get her attention today. Rather than being irritated, Isabel had congratulated her for regaining her motivation to work.

It was good to feel something again, that was true. But Jane rather preferred to feel victorious, clever, successful. Right now, she felt frustrated and, well, not-smart. She might have gotten part of her motivation back, but she wasn't sure she had regained her skills.

She yawned. Time to call it quits for the day. Algiz, Sowilo, Halagaz...remember, Jane.

oooOOOooo

Her voice is thin, reedy, but she gets the word out.

"Algiz."

The metal monster stops in mid-stride, its upraised foot crashing to the ground. Sif sprints past Volstagg's charred body and disappears.

"So—Sowilo."

The Destroyer rounds on her, its furnace firing up. She swallows and summons the next word.

"Hagalaz."

One arm crumples and fall off the killer robot, but still it marches toward her. What's the next word?

"Help," she whispers.

Then his voice, quiet, velvet: "Thurisaz."

"Thurisaz."

And he's behind her, the fingers of one hand lightly on her back, offering support. "Well done. Now Uruz."

The Destroyer goes down on one knee. She breathes a sigh of relief, and begins, "Ur—," when the monster's head comes up and a stream of fire blasts in her direction. She screams.

The stranger snatches her out of the path of the fire and shouts, "Uruz!" The metal giant flattens and darkness falls like a curtain.

Stars swirl and stretch as far as Jane can see in a studded sky. Crickets sing their summer lullaby. A shooting star streaks across the sky. She gasps in wonder, as she always does. When she turns to watch the path of the meteor, she catches the stranger staring at her. Ignoring him, she continues turning, looking for clues to their location. Behind him is a large khaki canvas tent set in a clearing, with tall grass outside the perimeter. Puzzle pieces fall into place.

"That's my tent. This is—" Jane remembers she is not happy with the interloper and bites off her words. She recognizes the setting now, a Dark Sky park where she had watched the Draconid shower a year ago. Another meteor flashes by, then another. If she can't bring herself to stargaze during her waking hours, she's going to enjoy the dream version. She ducks into the tent and retrieves a blanket, then drapes it on the ground.

Jane lies on the blanket, one arm under her head, then cocks her head at the stranger, still towering over her, blocking her view. He really is gorgeous, she thinks. Too bad he's a bit overbearing.

She points to the blanket. "Sit. Oh! Another one!"

He hesitates, then folds his long limbs and sits stiffly next to her. Jane pokes him sharply in the ribs with her free hand. "You can't see the meteors like that! You'll get a crick in your neck. Plus you're in my way. Lie back."

He reclines on his elbows, his elegant legs stretching far beyond the blanket's edge, his inky hair nearly touching the blanket.

"Jane?"

"Hmmm?" she absently replies.

"I owe you an apology. I was, perhaps, unnecessarily short with you last we met. I regret my behavior."

The quiet, humble tone of his voice catches her attention more than the words he says.

Jane shrugs and says, "It's only a dream, right?"

He looks down. "Of course."

"But I accept your apology. Thank you."

His eyes snap back to hers and hold for a beat before they both resume watching the sky. For several minutes, silence surrounds them, broken only by Jane's occasional murmurs of appreciation. Darkness falls fully, and with it, the shower of meteors slows and then stops.

Jane is content. She is aware that this is a dream, just a construct of her subconscious. But it's enough. For one hundred twenty-eight days she has felt vulnerable, alone. In this moment, she feels safe, though the stranger beside her has shown terrifying powers. He might be a dream creature, but he's the only one who has witnessed her nightmare and is still with her. And she doesn't even know his name.

Turning her head toward him, Jane softly asks, "Who are you?"

She isn't sure at first that he hears her question. But then he slowly looks her way. Strands of black hair wave across his forehead. His expression is odd, intensely pensive. He does not answer her.

Jane tries again. "I mean, what do I call you? 'Hey, you' seems a little impersonal for a guy who's haunting my dreams."

He blinks and a ghost of a smile plays on his mouth. "It's your dream. I suppose you should have the honor of naming me."

Jane huffs a laugh. "I don't know. I once named a cat Kitty." She closes her eyes and hums for a moment.

"How about...Morpheus? That's the god of dreams."

"No," he answers flatly, turning his face back to the sky.

"Hey!" Jane protests lightly. "You said I could choose. And you'd be a god!"

"No."

Another moment passes. "Gabriel? He's a messenger angel. You're kind of a messenger—"

"I'm no angel."

"Scrooge? He had weird dreams."

"No."

"Picky, picky."

The pair is quiet again, each lost in thought. Jane traces the stars with her eyes, remembering how she loved them.

"How about something like...Kai? No gods, no angels, just a plain old name. From a fairy tale I'm reading. But I like it. It suits you, I think."

The stranger—visitor—lays all the way back, lacing his hands together over his flat belly. He's silent for a long while, then answers, "Kai is acceptable."

Jane rolls to her side, facing him. She props herself up on her left elbow and offers him her right hand.

He—Kai—glances at her, one eyebrow raised.

"Nice to meet you, Kai," Jane says. "I'm Jane."

He envelopes her hand in his. "Nice to meet you, Jane."

Kai smiles at her then, the smile she remembers from two nights ago. The one that shows his white, even teeth; that reveals a dimple—or maybe two—; that lights up his green eyes and makes her heart go pitty-pat.

A sudden light flashes in the sky. Jane sighs. She sits up, hooks her hair behind her ears, and reaches for her notebook. Of course it's right next to her. And of course she can somehow see to write. Dreams have their benefits, after all.

Kai sits up as well. "What's this, Jane?"

She waves him off. "It's just a solar flare. I have to catalogue it so I can help Erik with the Tesseract. Though I'm not sure it's even worth it."

He leans near to see the notebook, his dark head almost even with hers, his cool breath ghosting over her bare ear and neck. Jane shivers. Kai must catch the motion, because he tilts his head to look at her. "Are you chilled? I can warm you up."

Jane hastily answers, "No, I'm fine," and keeps scribbling.

He points at a column of notations. "So these numbers." Shiver. "What do they signify?" Shudder.

The blanket tugs around her hips as Kai shifts position. She forces her attention to stay on her notebook.

"Is that better?" he asks from right behind her ear. Jane startles and bumps into Kai's chest.

"What are you doing?" She asks, twisting to look at him.

A boulder has conveniently appeared to serve as a backrest for Kai. He has settled himself to cradle her, his front against her back, legs outstretched on either side of her.

She hears the smile in his voice. "Why, Jane, you weren't so bashful the other night."

Her face flushes. "Yes, well, I wasn't quite myself." Pretty sure I was Darcy.

"What a pity," he breathes, and chuckles when she twitches away further. "Sit back. I'll keep you warm." He curves a hand around her elbow and tugs her toward him.

The shivering wasn't from the night air, and Jane suspects that he knows that. She resists him, and he changes tactics.

"I truly am here to help you. Protect you. Please trust me."

The breath from his words makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up, scatters goosebumps down her bare arms. A quick impulse tells her to break the illusion. But he makes her knees weak and she hasn't been held by a man in too long and it's just a dream. Jane hesitantly relaxes into the vee of his body.

"Let me try again: those numbers, what do they signify?"

Jane can feel the rumble of his velvet voice against her back. She shakes her head, mostly to drive away the distraction of his scent and nearness. "It's really complicated, okay?"

"Humor me. Perhaps it will help you in some way."

Sighing, Jane gives in. "These numbers are readings from the Tesseract's gamma radiation fluctuations. These numbers are the perceived magnitude of the solar flare. These are the approximate universal time the flare began. And these are the approximate distance from the location of the observation to the surface of the sun."

"Forgive me, but that doesn't sound terribly complicated."

Jane snorts inelegantly. "Yeah, well, rookie mistake. These are perceived and approximate numbers. You can't perform experiments on a freaky alien artifact with guesses and ballpark figures."

"I see. So your true task is to turn these mere observations into reliable data which you can use to better understand this Tesseract. It's difficult, though, because you are dealing with cosmic, not earthly, activity."

"Yeah, that's correct. And I don't even know if this is going to help Erik. The Tesseract behaves. It seems to be responding to something, or perhaps causing it. Some of these records of solar activity so far are the closest to the observation of gamma radiation from the Tesseract. But even if I'm right that they are linked, how does that help us stabilize and utilize the Tesseract's energy? We hardly know anything about it."

Kai's voice vibrates along her spine again. "What do you know about it?"

"Um, this guy Johann Schmidt found it in a Norwegian village and used it to create weapons during World War Two."

"What else?" he prompts.

"We know from Peggy Carter's reports that just before his plane crashed, Captain America told her Schmidt touched it with his bare hands and was, like, vaporized or something."

"Vaporized? What did it look like when Schmidt was vaporized?"

"Captain America didn't say, or at least Carter didn't report what he said. He was aiming to crash his plane. I don't think he had time for leisurely chats."

Kai is silent for a long while. Jane returns her attention to her notebook, trying to ignore him—the press of his body against her back, the length of the legs bracketing her.

"Jane?"

"Hmmm?"

"How far back have records been kept of these solar flares?"

"Basic records have been kept for centuries, more detailed ones in the last several decades."

"And how long has SHIELD monitored the Tesseract?"

"I'm not sure. Probably since Howard Stark recovered it after the war, in the mid '40s. Why?"

"Search for—um, apologies. Please consider searching for solar activity data the day Schmidt vaporized and compare it to solar activity catalogued on the days of Thor's arrival and departure. Then compare those readings against the Tesseract's activity."

Jane's pen stills. Kai slides an arm over her shoulder, across her collarbone, and gently pulls her back against him. She thinks maybe she feels his lips brush her neck, just once, light as a feather, before he whispers, "Trust me, Jane."


A/N: Dark Sky parks are a real thing, with no light pollution so you can see the skies as our ancestors were able to. Check out the International Dark-Sky Association's website darksky dot com.