Fire.
Fire, a blazing inferno behind the vehicle, burning into the night, leaving an enormous sinkhole in the place of a massive government facility.
Loki sadly stared at the ruins from the bed of the quickly fleeing pickup truck, the scepter clutched in his shaking hands.
Agony.
That's what it was.
His limbs ached from what the Other had done to him, just before stealing his mind, and his vision blurred slightly, as Barton pulled over to the side of the road.
"Sir, I think it would be a good idea for you to get in the car, now." He spoke up cheerfully, leaning against the side of the vehicle as if he hadn't a care in the world. Loki stared at him detachedly, forcing himself to focus. He just wanted… He just wanted to sleep.
"We're going to be up to highway speeds in a few seconds, and it's not exactly safe for you to be out here." Clint went on, "There's a seat for you…" He paused, staring up into Loki's face. He obviously noticed something. "Sir… are you alright?"
Loki licked his lips, and vaulted the side of the car. "I'm… I'm fine." He assured the man, swallowing past the dryness of his throat. "You don't happen to have any water, do you?"
Clint seemed to size the Trickster up with his glance. "Yeah… I think so." He reached into the cab of the car, and pulled out a water bottle, holding it out for his boss. Gingerly, Loki took it, and downed the entire thing in three gulps. "Thank you." He whispered, as Clint opened the door to the interior of the car.
Loki passed out as soon as the car began moving, and where, exactly, they went was a bit of a blur. The next thing he knew, the archer was gently shaking his shoulder. "Sir, we've arrived. I know it's not the best, but I think it'll be pretty hard for Fury to find."
Loki glanced up, and with a groan, shook his head free of cobwebs. Wherever this place was, it certainly reminded him of his cell, and he gave an involuntary shudder as he climbed out of the vehicle. "It'll do." He assured Barton, in an attempt to not look as weak and vulnerable as he felt. The harsh lights were giving him a headache, and he suddenly wished he hadn't swallowed the water that quickly, as it churned in his stomach uncomfortably. He hadn't had a drink in two days, and it was nothing short of foolhardy to think he could suddenly drink as if nothing was wrong.
For a second, his knees trembled, and he casually put a hand on the bed of the pickup to steady himself.
"Sir, you're showing symptoms of heat exhaustion." The doctor called Selvig spoke up, his voice laced in concern. "Do you want to lay down?"
"Don't be ridiculous, I'm not an infant." He snapped, tottering unsteadily forward. Holding the scepter to his chest like a security blanket, he glanced between their concerned faces.
Not concern. Nobody cared about Loki. This must be some sort of elaborate ruse…
With his foggy brain, he forgot that he'd programmed them to care about him.
He took two more steps forward, and toppled to the ground, narrowly missing being impaled on his own scepter. He was vaguely aware of Barton feeling his pulse, then gently picking him up, and carrying him away.
Or… were those Thor's strong arms, bearing him away from his agony?
"Brother…" Loki whimpered, wrapping his arms weakly around the man's neck.
He wasn't sure what was going on, he wanted to sleep, he wanted to go home.
Gently, he was laid down on something soft, a bed, it felt like. How long had it been since Loki'd slept in a bed?
A cold, wet pressure was applied to his forehead, and Loki sighed in relief as his heavy, hot overcoat and boots were peeled off. That was much better.
He'd felt like he was aflame, only minutes ago, but now, there was the cool wetness on his face, and someone speaking gently to him.
It wasn't long before the Trickster slipped into slumber.
When Loki awoke, still weaker than he'd like to admit, Barton was sitting beside him, working on some sort of strange black rectangle.
"Morning, sir." He smiled, glancing up from… whatever he was doing. "Hungry?"
Loki shook his head, struggling into a sitting position.
"Hey, no, take it easy." Barton laid aside the little rectangle, and gently pushed Loki back onto the mound of pillows. The end of the scepter poked out from the pillowcases, and Loki grabbed it, and cradled it to his side like an infant.
"I am your king." Loki pointed out softly. "I don't take orders."
Barton nodded. "I know, sir, but you really need the rest. It's for your own good. We have plenty of time, Selvig is still working on the portal. You can take a rest."
Loki glanced down at the scepter doubtfully. "How long was I asleep?"
"Only all night." Barton replied. "Are you hungry?"
"I am a god." Loki countered. "Hunger is beneath me-" He was cut off by a loud rumble from his stomach.
The archer tried, and failed to mask a smile. "The men are eating sausage and eggs for breakfast. Want me to grab some for you?"
"Men?" Loki blinked in confusion. "It's just the three of you, isn't it?"
Barton smiled softly, as if about to reveal a great secret. "We got a lot of recruits last night. Your army has expanded to over three hundred."
"Three hundred…" Loki breathed in disbelief. From the mortals, too! This was more than he'd bargained for. This might just work. Loki could be a free man, after this, without Thanos breathing down his neck, threatening a fate worse than death.
Barton got up, and exited the room, leaving Loki alone in the quiet stillness. A glass of water, and the little black rectangle rested on the circular table beside his bed, and, with shaking fingers, Loki grabbed both. This time, he was sure to drink the water in little sips, so as not to upset his stomach.
Turning the little rectangle over in his hands, Loki discovered that there were little buttons on the sides. Pressing one of them caused the whole face of the rectangle to light up. With a delighted grin, Loki skimmed his fingers over the blue and green marbled colors, only for it all to slide away, and a panel of numbers appear in their stead. "Enter password", read the little letters above it.
Loki prodded a finger at one of the numbers, only for it to appear for a split second, in place of the "Enter password", then turn into a tiny dot. "Ooh!" Loki squealed in delight. He promptly typed his own name in, only for it to join the first dot, like a little caterpillar, inching across the screen.
Loki laughed to himself, leaning back against the pillows, content to type in dozens of random numbers and letters into the keyboard, until…
The entire string of dots disappeared. "Incorrect password", read the message, now.
Loki furrowed his brow in confusion, as Barton came into the room, bearing a tray with lovely-smelling food upon it. "Where's my caterpillar?" Loki demanded, holding out the little rectangle in confusion.
"Your… caterpillar?" Barton wondered, confused.
Loki nodded. "I push a letter, it turns it to a dot, and makes the caterpillar longer." He explained. "But then the whole thing vanished. Where'd it go?"
Barton grinned wryly. "It's not a caterpillar, sir. It's so that someone looking over your shoulder can't watch you type in the password to figure out what it is."
"What's the password?" Loki demanded eagerly.
"24601_JeanValjean." Barton responded promptly. "I was in a Le Mis phase, and Fury wouldn't let me change it."
Loki nodded, pretending to understand. He didn't. Eagerly glancing at the food beside him, his narrow face split into a grin. "Is that for me?"
"Yep, all yours." Barton handed him the plate of steaming eggs and sausage. "I already ate mine."
The Trickster eagerly began wolfing down his meal, before realizing halfway through what eating would do to a person who hadn't eaten in a week.
His stomach turning a somersault, Loki leaned over the side of the bed, and threw up the barely digested eggs all over the floor. Immediately, Barton leapt up, pulling Loki's long dark hair off his face as he vomited. Rubbing his thin back soothingly, he handed his boss the glass of water, from which Loki took a grateful sip, his stomach still feeling funny. "You okay, now?" Barton asked kindly, and Loki nodded shakily.
"Just ate too fast."
Barton nodded, and put two fingers to his ear. "Send up a couple guys, we've got a bit of a clean-up that needs to happen, Boss' room."
"Why are you so kind to me, Barton?" Loki wondered, setting the glass down on the little table, and seizing the black rectangle, again. He hadn't told the archer to do this. He hadn't told him to do any of this, and yet… here he was.
Clint shrugged. He never did answer, and when Loki turned over, and dozed off, again, scepter and iPad held tightly to his chest, he realized that he didn't need to. Loki didn't need to know why the Midgardians allowed their sentiment to govern their actions.
TheOnlyHuman.
