A/N: I hope you all enjoyed the holidays. I've been working on this chapter, as promised, and it got so big and shaggy that I thought it better to break it up. So, here's part one of going down the rabbit hole…
Thanks to all who've followed, favorited, and reviewed. You all make this fun! And a big thanks to dristi5683 for her invaluable help as my beta.
Day 140
Puente Antiguo, New Mexico
Torn wallpaper sheets hung crookedly from battered walls. Chunks of white porcelain had been flung well into the bedroom, rust stains still visible on the chipped surfaces. A cheap alarm clock sat undisturbed on the veneer nightstand, but the bed itself was a total loss. Remnants of wire springs, crumbs of rubbery stuffing, and shreds of cloth covered the splintered wood of the frame. Glass was everywhere—tinkling down from what remained of the light fixture, studding the walls and blanketing the floor.
Against the wall sat a long, lean figure, legs outstretched. His hands lay limp at his sides, his dark head sagged against the scarred drywall. He wore only breeches and a linen tunic—no armor, nothing to protect himself from the debris. Fragments of glass and splinters of wood tangled in his long ink-black hair; blood dotted his skin from dozens of nicks and scratches.
Slowly, he rolled his head to one side, then the other, surveying the destruction. Loki wondered dully if the muting spell still held, or if that last blast had shattered it. It didn't matter, really. If the mortals came to investigate, he would disappear. Or rip their throats open. Whichever option pleased him in the moment.
He wiped a cut over his left eye, heedless of the blood smudged on his sleeved arm. Pain sang faintly along his nerves, but he welcomed it. Heaving a sigh, Loki flicked two fingers of his left hand and the shabby hotel room reassembled itself yet again. The green shimmer swelled on his palm. He held it back, savoring the power. The buzz of the magic became a sting, but still he restrained it. This, at least, he could control, unlike so much else in his wretched life.
Like with an aching tooth that you simply must push and probe, Loki ran through his list of grievances yet again. What was it about Thor? How did that great golden half-wit nearly always get what Loki wanted? It was all the more maddening because Thor never worked for any of it. Yes, of course, Thor trained to fight. But that didn't count.
Father's affection? Respect from the court? The throne?
Jane?
It all seemed to come effortlessly to Thor. No matter how little he cared about it. No matter how deeply, desperately Loki cared.
Jane had kissed him, recklessly, passionately. But she had refused to run away with him, and then had clutched Thor's talisman like it was her lifeline. It was his own doing—he had made her believe he existed only in her dreams—and yet her whispered "let me go" had cut surprisingly deep.
He had come to this broken-down place to kill Jane Foster, but fate had intervened. Now, instead of punishing Thor, he was suffering. He had allowed Jane, if not into his heart, then at least under his skin. It was decidedly one of the more self-defeating things he had done, but he could not undo it. Those whiskey eyes and warm walnut hair, that soft skin and sweet mouth left him yearning. She haunted his dreams, too: he could feel her, taste her.
But he could walk away from Jane, could leave her to Thor, if she were just beautiful. After all, attractive women were plentiful in the Nine Realms.
Jane's mind, however, was a singular phenomenon. It flexed and stretched to accept incomprensible ideas, even to create them. She perceived order in chaos, reason behind insanity. Jane's intellect was a match for his, possibly greater, made more valuable because of her fragile mortal nature. Thor believed Loki could answer Jane's questions, and still have more to teach her. Loki wasn't confident that was true. Certainly he knew facts to which she hadn't yet been exposed, but he was in awe of the way she consumed new information, assimilated it into her existing framework of knowledge, and used it to produce new hypotheses. No person—regardless of species or gender—had ever challenged him the way she did.
Thor was a warrior. A muscle-bound, thuggish soldier. He blindly accepted his world, wasn't even curious about how the Bifrost worked or how Loki could shield an entire regiment in a battle. As long as his body functioned and his hammer came to him, he was content. Thor did not deserve a woman such as Jane. Her most precious attribute—her rare genius—would be unappreciated. She would have withered under the glare of his lightning.
It was truly a pity her life had to end, a pawn in a power struggle she knew nothing about. It wasn't her fault that Thor cared for her; it wasn't her fault that Loki needed to hurt Thor. His mouth twisted with a painful smile.
Loki convulsively clenched his fists, finally releasing the destruction.
Fragments, shreds, splinters, shards, slivers, chunks...
Glass, wood, metal, fabric, ceramic…
Flew, blasted, spun, floated, exploded, sliced, embedded, tore…
He would exact his revenge this night, then leave and never look back.
oooOOOooo
There had to be a way to make this work. Jane rubbed her aching eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. She glanced at her sheet of notes. Vibranium wasn't practical. It was too rare. Depleted uranium was no good. It could store gamma radiation, and it was dense and durable, but it did nothing to help them use the energy.
Sighing, Jane pushed away from her work station. She aimed herself toward the kitchen and yet another cup of coffee. Reaching for a clean mug, she caught sight of the take-out food containers stacked on the counter. Jane poured the coffee and frowned, searching her memory, but coming up blank. Isabel must have let herself in. Jane wasn't upset; she had given Isabel a key a couple of days ago when she had realized how all-consuming this Tesseract project was becoming. Apparently that had been a wise choice.
Jane opened one of the containers; her mouth watered at the enticing aroma of Isabel's arroz con pollo. Two bites in, she was interrupted by the ringing of her phone. "Unknown caller."
"Hello?"
"Jane, I need you at the facility." Erik's tone put her on edge.
"What's going on?"
"The Tesseract is acting increasingly erratically. We need to be working together."
"We are working together."
"No, I mean I need you here with me."
Jane shook her head, though Erik couldn't see. "No, I have all the information I need here. I don't want to be closer to the Tesseract. I know the damage it can do."
"Then you know that in a worst-case scenario, it won't matter if you're here or there. And some of this stuff, this new data, is too sensitive to pass on even over secure lines."
"It's a glorified prison, Erik!"
"It's a secure research facility. It's for your own good. You need to be kept safe. Whatever is influencing the Tesseract must know you are involved, too. You're completely unprotected in Puente Antiguo."
Jane hesitated. She was vulnerable and alone. And scared, if she were being honest. But the thought of surrendering to those SOBs at SHIELD, of them watching her 24/7, of zero real privacy...
"Thanks for the concern, really, but I'll take my chances here."
Erik's sigh was barely audible over the hums and clicks. "You don't actually have a choice, Jane. SHIELD is sending someone to escort you to the facility."
Jane's heart thumped rapidly. Breathe, Jane. In, out, two, three, four. Instead of a sick lump of fear, though, a fire ignited in her core. She wasn't anxious; she was angry.
For the first time, Jane thought Erik sounded old and worn out. "The agent will arrive in Puente Antiguo at 10 o'clock tomorrow morning. I called as a courtesy, to give you a heads up."
She didn't answer, but cut the call off and set her phone on mute. Think, Jane. Be rational. What should you do? She was tired of being afraid, vulnerable, small, of being out of control. Tears stung her eyes and her head pounded. What do I do?
The fire in her belly flashed. Jane snatched the mug and hurled it to the concrete floor of the kitchen. Hot coffee and blue ceramic exploded. She cursed and stomped on the pieces of the mug, crushing it to fragments. Her gaze ricocheted around the room, searching for something else to vent her anger on.
A pillow was her next victim. Jane pressed it to her face and screamed with all her might, then viciously yanked at the seams until the fabric gave way. She shredded the white fluffy stuffing. The soft cloth tore under her clawing nails, the sound of ripping immensely satisfying.
What next? Jane stalked back to the kitchenette, spotted a red mug in the sink, and grabbed it. Pain shocked her whole system, and she yelped and dropped the new mug. A large, wicked-looking shard of blue ceramic lay in the sink. Blood dripped from her injured left hand, and Jane stumbled to the dining table.
The knife-edge of pain sliced through the fury. She slumped in a chair and wrapped her bleeding hand in the tail of her flannel shirt. Deflated, Jane looked at the mess she'd made. It had felt marvelous to be the one destroying instead of being destroyed, but what good had her temper tantrum done? She had only hurt herself.
As her anger cooled, the pounding in her head increased. Her hand was throbbing heavily. Warmth spread on her chest, and she saw that she'd bled through her shirt. Gingerly, she unwrapped the fabric and assessed the damage. A gash ran jaggedly across the heel of her hand down to her wrist. Jane's first aid training told her that she hadn't sliced anything vital, but the wound did need attention.
Her phone lay on the counter. She took three deep breaths, then slowly stood and and shuffled into the kitchen. Jane swiped Isabel's name and waited. She answered on the fifth ring, skipping the preamble.
"So, you woke up from your trance, eh? You didn't even know I was there. How was the rice? Good, right?"
Jane frowned in concentration, fighting dizziness. "Um, Isabel? Could you come over, let yourself in? I need help."
oooOOOooo
Jane hadn't had to lie to Isabel. The older woman already knew about the antagonistic relationship between the astrophysicist and the government organization. While Isabel was cleaning out and patching up Jane's torn hand, Jane confessed that she had lost her temper when she got the news that the SHIELD a-holes were making her go to one of their stupid facilities.
Isabel made the appropriate murmurs of sympathy and tried to convince Jane to go get stitches. Jane refused; Isabel backed off and helped her pack.
"Thanks, Isabel. You are such a good friend. That would have taken me hours on my own with this." Jane held up her wrapped hand. "I'll see you soon."
Two bags sat next to the couch: a small suitcase with her personal effects, and a larger bag with her laptop and notebooks. Isabel was safeguarding the SHIELD-free laptop. There would be no escaping the surveillance once she was in their clutches tomorrow.
But that was tomorrow. She was not going to miss the meteor shower. Jane had toyed with the idea of jumping in the van and making a run for it. Erik really did need her help, though, and SHIELD would find her eventually anyway.
Tonight, she was going to watch shooting stars. Jane made a large thermos of coffee and grabbed a box of Pop-Tarts. Everything she needed for stargazing went into a rucksack, with a sleeping bag strapped on top. Dressed in layers, warm barn jacket zipped up, Jane carefully hoisted the pack onto her back. She opened the door of the lab and squealed at the bright scattering of stars in the night sky. This was going to be great, and she wasn't going to let SHIELD ruin it.
Jane walked around the building to the metal ladder which led up to the roof. The chilly air bit her nose as she contemplated the logistics of hauling herself and her gear up the ladder with a bum hand. Isabel had bandaged the deep cut as best she could, and now Jane had a bulky paw instead of five fingers. Too bad this isn't a dream, Jane thought. I could just wish myself on the roof. If only Kai...stop, Jane. Enough.
Double-checking the straps on her pack, Jane faced the ladder. The rungs came nearly to the ground. She could do this. With her right hand, she grasped the ladder, then stepped onto a low rung and wrapped her left elbow around the side for stability. In this way, she painstakingly climbed her way to the top, muscles locked for fear of slipping, grateful for the absence of ice and wind. Finally on the roof, she grinned in triumph, before realizing that climbing down would be even more difficult. Screw it. She'd stay up here all night and make the SHIELD toady haul her down in the morning.
oooOOOooo
Jane was a fool, ignoring her well-being for the sake of watching space garbage self-immolate. Loki had overheard her conversation with Erik, witnessed her outburst, and guarded her as she had struggled up the ladder. She slumped onto one of the lawn chair loungers, bag still on her back. Blood had soaked through the bandage and stained the wrist of her coat. He doubted she had noticed.
A streak of light brushed the sky. Jane came alive. Her face lit up, the way he remembered from one of her first dreams. She clambered off the chair and began to unpack her rucksack, keeping her gaze fixed above. The metal carafe came out first. Jane blindly placed it on the roof, where it promptly fell over. Next was a small box. One of the straps holding the sleeping bag caught and she tugged several times before huffing in exasperation and tearing her attention from the sky. Glancing at the stars every few seconds, Jane finished her preparations. She laboriously climbed into the bag, then reached for the thermos and poured herself some coffee.
"Enjoy," Loki snarled. He would allow her a last moment of joy.
oooOOOooo
Her left arm throbbed terribly. Tomorrow she would be taken prisoner by jack-booted thugs. She was infatuated with a figment of her imagination and should probably be committed. But the sky was alive with dancing, streaking, swirling meteors. Jane was happy. For a couple of hours, she sat entranced by the sparkling display, expressing her joy aloud. She drank coffee and ate Pop-Tarts, took pictures and made notes.
Once, thrilled by an especially gorgeous specimen, Jane unthinkingly turned to the other chair. "Did you see—" she began, before shaking her head and turning back to the show. "Stop talking to imaginary friends, Jane."
Even with the excitement of the meteor shower, the recent long nights of little sleep and frantic work meant that her eyes grew heavy sooner than she would have liked. Jane glanced at her phone to check the time (1:49 a.m.) and saw that Erik had sent a text. A spike of fear stabbed her heart. What now?
Erik S.: Situation worsening. Tess v unstable. Be ready by 7 a.m.
Five hours left of freedom.
Earth was under a serious threat.
Jane couldn't decide which was worse.
Her phone fell from nerveless fingers. Tears slid down her cheeks. What if something like the Destroyer—or worse—slammed down on Earth again? Thor was the only person she knew of who could help, and he hadn't responded to her pleas.
Erik thought the answer was to join SHIELD. He didn't understand her aversion to the organization, but saw it as an opportunity with unlimited resources. She saw the faceless entity who had stolen her life's work with impunity. It was only after her theories had been proven right, after the Destroyer had decimated Puente Antiguo, after Thor's powers had returned, that they had listened to her. She knew SHIELD didn't respect her even now; their lead physicist wanted her to work with him, and it would simply be easier to keep track of her under their roof.
She was alone, defenseless. And once she was within the confines of the research facility, she would be isolated. Jane hugged herself. Sharp pain immediately sliced through her, and she quickly pulled her hands back. Red blood stained almost the entire bandage and had seeped onto her coat. She should have listened to Isabel. Now she'd have to let SHIELD doctors poke at her. Cradling her injured hand with her whole one, she forced herself to look at the sky.
Meteors blazed above, but she could only stare numbly. Tears still trickled down her face, leaving freezing trails. A tickle in her nose made her sneeze three times in rapid succession. Her eyelids felt terribly heavy. They slid shut, though she fought to keep them open. Slowly she blinked, and again.
"Hello, Jane."
She blinked again to clear her vision, then smiled tiredly. "Hello, Kai."
oooOOOooo
Jane became a child again when she watched the skies. This night was no different. Each time a meteor flew across, she clapped her hands and cheered. She talked to the shooting stars, encouraging them on their journeys and thanking them for the beautiful display. Loki shook his head at her naivete, half-disdainful, half-jealous.
Jane squealed in delight at a particularly showy meteor. She scribbled a line in her notebook, then clapped her hands. "That was amazing! Well done!" Swiftly, she turned to him. "Did you see—" she began, then snapped her mouth shut and shook her head. "Stop talking to imaginary friends, Jane."
Raven eyebrows knitting in confusion, Loki stared at her. Jane still sought him out. Why? He shook his head; it was of no import. He had to attend to his task.
After Loki dropped the shield cloaking him from Asgard, Heimdall would be honor-bound to report his appearance. Even if the Bifrost was still broken, Odin would doubtlessly find a way to send Thor to retrieve his errant "brother."
Her death scene wouldn't be as gory as Loki had fantasized about before arriving on Midgard. He couldn't spill Jane's blood. Instead, he would euthanize her with the sleeping spell, as he had mistakenly done once before. Thor would arrive to find Jane cold and lifeless, but whole, unmolested. Loki only wished he could watch Thor discover Jane. That was the flaw in his plan: he would have to bear the pain of taking Jane's life, but would not get the satisfaction of witnessing Thor's shock.
Grief abruptly squeezed his chest. He dragged in a searing breath and gritted his teeth. It was magnitudes more merciful than the death The Other would have administered, he reminded himself. But the image of Jane lying dead...Loki felt as though it tore a rift in his soul. There was no other way, though. Thor had to be punished.
Loki crooked his fingers, summoning his power. As he crafted the familiar golden sleeping spell, he contemplated his next steps. Armed with a greater understanding of the Tesseract's capabilities, he had decided not to steal it yet. He would return to Thanos, as agreed, and give a report of his findings. Leaving the Tesseract in place would lull the mortals into a false sense of security, and it would serve as an easy portal when he was prepared to invade. At that time, he could take possession of it and open a portal to bring his army to Midgard.
Would anyone realize that Jane had helped him use the Tesseract? Would they think she had willingly colluded with him? Perhaps they would understand that she hadn't known what she was doing. Loki frowned and his fingers stilled as he listened to his own thoughts. What did it matter what the mortals thought of Jane?
You are a fool.
The magic shook in his fingers, and he turned his attention to completing the spell. His task finished, Loki sent the orb to a pocket dimension until the time was right. A meteor flew overhead. It was impressive, for a pitiful realm like Midgard. It reminded him of the view from Asgard when stars exploded in distant clusters. Jane would love that display.
He heard a quiet sniff once, then again. Loki glanced Jane's way, then turned more fully to face her. Tears streaked her face. She had been so excited about the meteor shower; what was causing this distress? The phone lay precariously at her side, screen still lit. He stood to read the message from Erik, and then studied Jane. Her breathing was shallow and rapid, broken by an occasional sob. She moaned faintly and her brow furrowed sharply.
At seven a.m. someone would be here. Just before dawn. He didn't have much time left with Jane. Agony seized his chest again and his hands clenched. He hated Erik and he hated SHIELD for using Jane, for playing on her fears while she was still recovering from trauma. The irony was not lost on him—he hated himself, too. Jane deserved to be protected, cared for, defended.
You're a fool. You're the one who caused her trauma. You're the one she needs to be protected from.
Loki closed his eyes, warring with himself. He was backed into a corner. He could not walk away from Thanos—Jane would pay in unthinkable ways for that transgression. He could not reveal his true self to her. A breath caught jaggedly in his throat when he imagined Jane's furious rejection. He could merely seduce Jane, as he had considered. But that wouldn't cause Thor nearly enough anguish. Thor could, after all, nobly put the incident behind him and still accept Jane. And Loki could not, would not allow Thor to have her.
You're a fool.
The copper tang of blood hung in the air; plainly, Isabel's attempt to bind Jane's wound had failed. Healing her would be simple. A single bitter laugh seized his throat. He had already created the spell which would take her life, and yet he was concerned with a cut on her hand. He was, indeed, a fool, to have allowed himself to fall in love—yes, he could admit it—with this woman.
Weary of his own callow whining, Loki retrieved the sleeping spell.
"Forgive me, Jane," he whispered.
It was time to break this foolish bond. Loki readied the golden orb. He closed his eyes, unwilling to watch her slip from life, but the scent of her blood still filled his nostrils. His hands froze, his mind erupting in a frenzy.
Blood...
Bonds…
Blood…
A bond...
Loki snatched the golden sphere out of the air, unused. He stared at Jane with wide eyes, then pivoted to pace the expanse of the roof, overcoat tangling around his long legs, inky hair flying with his jerky movements.
What if—? He steepled his hands together and pressed his eyes shut, searching his memory for the correct sequence. She had to be awake, had to speak the truth. How could he—? And would she—?
He didn't have much time, but he had to proceed gently, carefully so as not to spook Jane. Deftly, his long fingers beckoned new wisps of magic, then wove them into a silvery shimmering mass as he frantically muttered incantations. This he sifted over Jane, then sat across from her. She sneezed as the enchanted dust tickled her nose. Loki took a deep breath, hastily whispered a prayer to whomever might be listening, and dissolved the spell that hid him from Jane. Her eyes focused slowly on him.
"Hello, Jane."
A smile, then, "Hello, Kai."
