A/N: Here's chapter 2 for you all...Loki's less-than-warm welcome back on Earth and a lot of figuring out things. Note: Stony, Phlint, and Brutasha are side pairings in this. Also, most of the time the chapter titles have nothing to do with what goes on in the actual chapter, so...And, since I'm titling the chapters lyric by lyric of the song this story is based on, there are going to be some title doubles, as the lyrics do get repeated. Just...fair warning. ALSO - I'm sorry, this A/N is long - I know I said last chapter that the translations for the Russian would be included at the end, but now they're just going to be in italicized brackets after the sentence, since there are entire conversations held in Russian coming up.
Disclaimer: Do I even have to put this anymore? Marvel/Disney's. Not mine.
2. Although I Know You're Not Begging
They landed just outside the Tower. The New Yorkers didn't even give them a second glance, though quite a few women shrieked when they saw Thor.
"In," said Thor. "Stark figured it wasn't a good idea to have all the Avengers assemble outside so soon after the Battle of New York."
Loki glared at him for mentioning that. Then he sighed; he was pretty much resigned to a questioning from the Avengers, or from Fury, or both. He didn't know how to explain to them that he had not been acting entirely of his own volition. Some of it was his fault, yes, but the rest he blamed on the Chitauri, the Other, and...Him. Loki knew, now that he was free of its influence, that He - Thanos - had used the Mind Stone to inadvertently control him. He didn't think Thanos had known it was the Mind Stone in the scepter, otherwise he would never have given it away, but still - it must have been nice to have a servant so completely devoted to what he was doing.
Thor ushered him into the cool interior of the Avengers Tower and into an elevator. Loki knew where it was going: almost to the roof, to the recently-rebuilt lounge area where he'd gotten Hulk-smahed. That memory still made him wince. He didn't think that the Green Guy would be too happy that Loki was coming to live with them.
The silence in the elevator was far too loud for Loki's liking. He considered breaking it, then decided it would probably not be the best idea.
They reached the lounge. Loki and Thor stepped out to see the other five Avengers (thank the gods not in uniform, which meant no Hulk) waiting for them, as well as Fury, Hill, and...
"Agent Coulson?" Thor and Loki asked in disbelief at the same time. Loki glared at him.
"I wasn't nearly as dead as you thought, Loki," Coulson said. Loki accepted that with a nod and a downcasting of his eyes; this was awkward enough.
Loki looked around at the rest of them. Fury regarded him coolly out of his one eye; Hill merely looked wary; Romanoff looked like she was on edge; Barton looked downright hostile; Rogers was tensed as if for a fight (Loki couldn't blame him); Banner eyed him suspiciously; Stark merely inclined his head.
Frosty welcome. Naturally.
Loki held up his hands, showing them the cuffs. "Magic-supressors," Loki told them. "I can't remove them; Thor is the only one who can, and he's not going to anytime soon. I cannot do magic, which means I cannot produce my knives out of nowhere, nor curse you all into oblivion. I know you don't trust me - hell, I don't even trust me - but I can absolutely guarantee I can do you no physical harm whilst these are on."
"How do we know you're not lying?" Fury asked.
"He's telling the truth," Thor said. "He cannot use magic while those are on, and he was never much of a fighter."
Everyone - even Barton - relaxed a little. "You don't even trust you, huh?" Stark asked. Loki nodded. "Interesting."
"I think you'll find you'll be saying that a lot," Loki said. Thor glanced at him.
"And why would that be?" Rogers asked.
Loki couldn't help a grin. "Come now, I'm the God of Mischief. Even without my magic, I can find ways to be interesting."
Thor glanced at him again, as if to say, Don't push it, but Loki ignored him.
"Well, if you're going to be staying here, we've got a few rules," Stark said. Loki shrugged; they'd probably be broken at the first possible opportunity, but he'd listen to them anyway.
"First: You are not allowed outside this Tower," Barton said. "If you leave, I will not hesitate to put an arrow though your head."
Still a little pissed off about the whole mind-control thing, then. That was to be expected. Loki had made him fight his friends.
"Second: No tricks. Let us learn to trust you, let us know we can end up trusting you," Romanoff continued. "If you try and pull any tricks on us that aren't small and harmless, Clint and I will both shoot you."
"Noted."
"Third: You'll stay in the basement -" Stark tried to say, but this time Loki interrupted.
"That will not work."
Stark stared at him. "What?"
"That won't work. I have spent the last month in a dungeon. If I am forced into another underground prison, I do not are what rules you've laid down or what threats you issue, I will find ways to murder you all," Loki threatened. "Even you, Banner."
"Okay, then," Rogers said. "What would you prefer?"
Loki shrugged, knowing he'd won. "Just a spare bedroom, no cameras. With a window, preferably, I do like the fresh air. I won't leave through the window, I swear it on my mother. I've just spent too much time lately in places I'd rather not be in. The least you could do is show me a little basic human decency. Besides, it might rub off on me."
Stark exchanged a look with Rogers, then looked back at Loki. "Done. None of the bedrooms have cameras anyway, for privacy."
Loki nodded. "Any other rules?"
"No, not really," Stark shrugged. "I mean, you can't use magic, so..."
"No angering Bruce," suggested Romanoff.
Loki shivered. "I've had enough of Hulk to last me a few centuries at least. I'm not anxious to repeat the experience of getting Hulk-smashed."
"Good, that means you won't be causing too much trouble," Fury said.
"Now that that's settled, I wouldn't mind retreating to my room," Loki said. "Believe me, I'm not looking forward to this any more than you are. I'll stay out of your way."
Stark nodded. "Thor, go ahead and take him to one of the spare bedrooms. He can make it his own."
Thor nodded back and siezed Loki's arm again. Loki let out a long-suffering sigh and let himself be dragged away.
"You were a bit demanding in there, weren't you?" Thor asked once the brothers were alone. Loki glared at him.
"It's the least they can do," Loki protested. "Being Earth's mightiest heroes and all that, they should at least show some semblance of basic human decency."
"A few of them don't think you deserve it," Thor said quietly.
Loki stopped in his tracks, forcing Thor to stop as well. He looked up, his emerald eyes filled with pain, his expression twisting into one of shock and hurt as he momentarily lost control of his poker face.
"I -" Loki didn't know what to say.
Thor looked concerned. "Loki..."
"They're right," Loki said bitterly. "I don't deserve this. I don't deserve any of this. Odin should have just let me die."
Loki stalked away down the hall before Thor could respond, trying to fight back sudden tears. He would not cry, he would not cry, he would not...
"Loki!" Thor ran to catch up with him. "Loki, listen to me -"
"No, Thor," Loki muttered. "They're right. I don't deserve this. I'm a monster."
Loki spotted an unused-looking bedroom and ducked into it, slamming the door in Thor's face.
And then he sank down against the door, his knees drawn up, his head in his hands, and hid the glistening crystal tears now streaming freely down his face.
A knock at the door some time later startled Loki out of his misery. He'd stopped crying a while ago - he'd taught himself to keep the tears in, to hide his pain, to not cry, because it was a sign of weakness, and he could not be weak because he was already the outcast, the hated prince. He had to be better than the weakness of tears. But he didn't know who it could be at the door, unless it was his idiotic, persistent brother.
When there was no response from Loki, the door eased open with a creak from the hinges. Loki winced from where he now sat, tucked away into the shadows in the corner of the room.
Natasha Romanoff entered, a tray of food in her hands. "Loki?" she called out.
Loki pulled himself together, put his poker face back on, brushed away any of the last remaining tears, then stood up and stepped into the light. "What do you want?"
Romanoff looked calmly at him. They were about the same height, Loki maybe a little taller, but she could hold eye contact, which she took advantage of, her green eyes finding Loki's own.
"We all were about to eat dinner," Romanoff told him. "Tony suggested someone come see if you wanted to join us. Thor offered, but I beat him to it. I told them that you probably wouldn't join us, so I brought the food to you."
Loki regarded her curiously. "Why you?" he asked.
Romanoff inclined her head. "Pardon?"
"Why you?" Loki repeated. "I think I may have hurt you the most. Sure, I mind-controlled Barton - which I am not proud of, by the way - and stabbed Coulson, punched Rogers and taunted Thor, threatened Stark and angered Banner - but I toyed with your emotions, I threatened to make your best friend kill you, I reminded you of everything you regret. So why you?"
Romanoff closed the door and flipped on the light, illuminating the room and making the window become a black mirror. Loki perched on the edge of the bed; Romanoff set the tray of food down beside him and pulled over a stray chair to sit opposite him. She looked like she was contemplating what to say. Loki noticed there was enough food on the tray for both of them; had she planned to eat with him?
"I guess...I can relate to you," she said eventually. "I don't understand. But I can relate. I've been in a similar position to you - left with nothing but my regrets and a chance, a slim chance, to start over. With the thought that I could never be forgiven for what I'd done."
Loki broke eye contact, casting his eyes downward, anywhere but on her. He refused to admit she was right - but she was right. He felt almost exactly like she had just described. And she'd been talking about herself...
Hesitantly, Loki reached for the food, realizing he was starving. Romanoff watched him, her expression saying, Oh, go on and eat it already.
"Господи, Локи, это не отравлено," Romanoff muttered in Russian. [Jesus, Loki, it's not poisoned.] Loki decided now would be a good time to show off.
"Я знаю, что это не отравлено, Романофф. Ты не посмеешь отравить меня," Loki replied in flawless Russian. [I know it's not poisoned, Romanoff. You wouldn't dare poison me.] Romanoff's jaw dropped.
"Вы говорите это?" she asked in wonder. [You speak it?]
"Да, я говорю это. Я был в темнице последний месяц, помнишь? Я учил это для себя," Loki replied, smirking at the expression on her face. [Yes, I speak it. I've been in a dungeon for the last month, remember? I taught it to myself.]
Romanoff shook her head. "Interesting," she said, switching back to English.
"What's interesting about it?" Loki asked, giving in and pulling the food towards him. "I got bored in my dungeon cell, so I taught myself Russian. Simple as that."
"It's interesting that you chose Russian," she elaborated.
"Not really," Loki shrugged. "I chose it because of you. You told me you were Russian; I became fascinated by the language. It's not complex."
Romanoff raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything else on the subject. Instead, she said, "In case you hadn't noticed, I brought my dinner in too. I hope you're okay with me eating in here. The boys can get..."
"Boyish?" Loki suggested, a wry smile tugging at his lips no matter how hard he tried to fight it down.
Romanoff laughed - actually laughed. "Yes."
They ate in silence for a few minutes. Loki studied the assassin, intrigued by her decision to eat with him. Romanoff didn't exactly seem like the forgiving type, much less the trusting type. Which only made her decision all the more interesting.
And then...there was something about her, something that seemed to be laying under the surface, hiding behind the fiery hair and the piercing greeen eyes. Loki kept trying to figure out what it was, but couldn't. The wolf inside him silently howled in frustration.
Loki betrayed none of this on his face or in his posture, however. He was the Liesmith, after all, and a master of deception and trickery. The God of Mischief had to be an excellent liar, after all.
Before he knew it, the meal was done and Romanoff was getting up to leave.
"This was actually kind of nice," Romanoff said.
Loki nodded. "Hey, now we can have conversations in Russian that the others can't understand."
Romanoff smirked. "That'll be interesting."
She opened the door and started to step out when Loki, on an impulse he couldn't quell, stopped her.
"Romanoff," he called. She looked back. He half-smiled. "Thanks."
She half-smiled back. "You're welcome. And it's Natasha."
Then she left, closing the door behind her and leaving Loki alone and staring out the window at the three-quarter moon shining down over New York City, the distant howls of Midgardian werewolves echoing into the night.
Well then. Um. Okay. Nothing to say, really, except the fact that YES: THIS IS A THORKI FIC. Loki and Natasha just build up a friendship, that's all. Thor won't really come into play for another few chapters yet, though, so just hold on. Hope you enjoyed, please leave a review!