I should probably say now, that I disclaim all rights to the characters that you recognise in this story. They belong to other people…. Shame, really…
The news was now populated with the stories of Loki's greatness and his one speech about how he was lifting us up to enlightenment and golden hope. He was taking us from the corner of Pharaoh's prison to the promise land of Canaan.
Thor was the only person, or God, that still watched the television. Most days he'd never leave the settee; he would just sit there and stare at the screen with a dulled interest. We only ever saw his expression change when Loki's face or emblem came on screen. It grew so dark and deadly that it even scared Jane. His fist clenched and he attempted to rise but then it vanished and he sank back down into the cushions. Blinking and walking back the agony till he just sat like a stone.
Tony had tried, on different occasions, to get him to move or to get any form of response that they could but nothing happened. The only thing that Jane could do was get him to get a shower once a week and take a rest some days but it was still tearing her apart.
I watched her most days as she watched him, I saw the desperation in her eyes as she tried to talk to him, the way she gentle reached out to touch him but pulled back because she was afraid he'd break, the way she always urged us to keep our voices quiet around him, and any talks of Loki were held in another place entirely.
The only person that insisted we talked about Loki was Fury, who now had to walk with a cane that made as much difference to his recovery as a banana smoothie did. He would spend hours of the day in front of blueprints and files on the Helicarrier; he spent hours on the phone to ex-heads of countries; he spent hours talking to the rest of the Avengers to try and rally them. But he was pushing a sick donkey; no I don't understand that simile either; the Avengers or, as I found out later, the rest of the Avengers had to push nor fight nor energy behind them. They were stuck in this vicious cycle of pain and guilt that made them all addled and sick.
The environment did help much, either; Pepper had searched and searched for a better place but we only had so much money that we could use now and this was the only place that had enough rooms and water for all of them. It wasn't exactly what I'd call spacious but it was enough and I could at least say with some certainty that I wasn't selfish and rude like other girls who grew up with everything they'd ever wanted.
I shared a room with Natasha Romanoff, some nights Natasha would even slip into my bed and hold onto me as one of us or both of us cried. The woman seemed to have lost her precious pride and dignity from the fall but in its place a compassion for others and a kindness had formed. I knew why; she was guilty.
"I have red in my ledger." She whispered one night as her head moved to look at me in the dark, her blue eyes shining through the black. "A lot of it… and I just thought that if I… it's pathetic, I know, a leopard can never change its spots but-."
"It's not. It's honourable and, now, we need kindness. You don't have to explain yourself to me, I understand."
She was silent for a few seconds before she mumbled out a weak. "How did you manage to grow up with Tony as your guardian and still be so… gentle?"
"Pepper immunised me."
Natasha came with me, whenever, I went outside. Even if it was to just get a breath of fresh air, I was rarely ever alone; if I wasn't with her, I stayed with Thor or I went with Tony or I hid behind Steve. They implanted these rules on everyone that wasn't trained to kill people. These attitudes of precaution made us all more anxious and terrified; I was constantly looking over my shoulder whenever I went anywhere, even though the streets were bare.
No one walked the streets any more, the only people that drove anywhere were doctors and nurses, and the only course of flight travel was on a Chatari aircraft.
The Chatari were now patrolling every major city in the world and more and more platoons of them were flooding in to fly over the skies. Then there were the humans that were bullied, forced, bewitched or volunteered into the service of pushing people into camps.
They had popped up over the world in a matter of hours; the first few were designed for the weak and the old and the ill left to die in there alone and hungry. They spread 10 by 10 miles along and spanned every space that they would fit. Some had homes, others didn't.
Loki had pushed every single person that he thought would be a threat into them and then the people that he just didn't like. I had no shadow of a doubt that I would have been in a variety of a camp if we hadn't run.
I'd seen Justin Hammer being dragged into one as we left New York State, he was screaming as the Chatari dragged him backwards; however hard he struggled it was never enough.
There were none where we had hidden; the population was so small it wasn't worth it. But in the city a few miles away there were two.
Loki had, also, moved to tackle work. We all did it; it was compulsory for us to carry on our lives as normal, if we were fit and healthy, any tasks that we had before the 'Bliss' were still expected to be carried out and if you didn't have a job before his dictatorship began, you had to have a good reason.
Natasha had gone with Steve to try and find work but they were turned away at the door; the locals had all seen us coming and decided that they wanted nothing to do with whatever we were. Now, they all worked in farmers' fields miles and miles away. They came home exhausted and bitter but we had more money.
This was our reality now. There was no escape from it anymore, no way to deny what was happening. There was no hope anymore. In the first few weeks I would hold out the dream that they would launch into action with a gigantic army and take down Loki and we'd all be saved but… that was a pipe dream of naivety that stung my heart and clouded my head. The only chance I, ever, got to escape from this hell was the stories that I would write. Constantly keeping them close to me and whipping them out whenever no one was around. I hid them under my pillow and whenever I could I scribble on the blank pages until my fingers hurt. Sometimes I would write about ordinary lives and how people should be living there lives; free of Loki and Chatari and intergalactic war; they just had their normal life dramas. The kind that we all should be having right now.
I was 21, for Christ's sake, I should be out having fun and making friends and having strange bedfellows and arguments with people I didn't know. Not having nightmares every other night because I could see every single dark image in heard head; the Avengers dying, the people being tortured to death, Loki's face as he smiled at me.
I remember being shaken awake that morning by Steve, his face hovering just above hers filled with worry; he stopped me from screaming out and drew down to my level, searching my face and, then, glancing up at the slumbering Natasha. Sighing he pulled me out of the room, taking me from the bedroom and into the cramp living room; Thor was sleeping on the sofa with his body wrapped in a blanket.
"Tori… are you…?"
"Don't. Please, you can't tell Tony." I said, quickly. Watching as he stared at me for a few seconds with a torn expression.
"He's going to need to know; in any case, you'll have to be moved into somewhere where someone can calm you down quickly; Natasha needs her sleep. You can't-."
"You think that I don't know that, Steve?" I whispered, grabbing a chair and turning it so that I could fall down into it, sighing heavily. "But it's not as if I can stop it and if I could, I would."
Steve moved forward and rested into a crouch in front of me, his hands on the sides of the chair I was sat on. "What happened?"
"I can't…"
"I'm not asking for detail… But it'll help you." His voice was soft and calming, like a blanket in the cold or a mother's hold. "Come on; I have them too, you know."
I looked down at my hands and watched as they shook, slightly, I pushed at the skin and heaved out breaths until I was ready to talk. "I keep seeing all these things… the camps, all those people in Manhattan that he had burnt, Japan… I see Tony and Natasha and you and everyone dead and-."
He leapt up and hushed me, pulling me close to him and dragging me into his chest, letting my head rest on his shoulder as he put his arms around me.
"It's just a dream, Tori; none of it is real." He mumbled into my hair. His tone slipped from strong to weak but none of us said anything after it.
Because Steve and I both knew that he didn't mean that, that my nightmares were a direct response as to what was happening in the world. They were the pictures that my head wasn't able to forget, they were the fears that I wasn't able to face, they were the things that I weren't ready to admit were happening.
But there were things in my dream that hadn't happened and wouldn't, I hoped, happen. I just had to focus on that fact; the fact that I was surrounded by people who, now mattered to me but, could also save the world from Loki. They could save the world and they would… eventually.
Steve ducked under to look at my face, smiling warmly at me, rubbing my arms to give me more warmth; his large hands seemed to be able to curl around my weak ass arms. He was so much stronger than me, so much stronger in physicality and emotion. Nothing fazed him; not even a pathetic girl crying on his shirt.
I pulled away, feeling like I was showing him just how weak willed I was. I felt like he just pitied me.
"Hey, look at me." He whispered, dragging my chin up to look into his eyes with gentleness. "It's alright, you know. To feel like you need someone ever once in a while."
"…How did you…?" I asked, pulling back slightly to stare into his handsome face.
He laughed back at me, replying with a quick. "You grew up with Tony Stark as your guardian, you've been independent all your life and the only person you've ever really need is you. But I can guarantee you, even Tony 'I'm so awesome and you lot can all kiss my ass' Stark needs someone, that's why he has Pepper."
I smiled slightly and nodded, not knowing what else to do. Steve laughed out of his nose and nudged me towards the door, letting me lead the way into the kitchen.
"Steve?" I called out as he headed to the fridge; he paused, turning to face me again. "Can you not tell Tony? He's already got so-."
"Your secret is safe with me. Don't worry."
The super soldier grabbed the fridge door, seizing the ingredients he needed to begin making pancakes or cake or whatever it was that he was doing.
The morning rolled on over us, the Avengers all made their dazed waltz into the kitchen as the smelt the fumes of the pancakes; Fury even pulled himself away from the small desk he was nailed to; Pepper and Jane both used the bathroom, one after another, while they could and Maria Hill never, ever, joined us for breakfast.
"I don't feel too well…" Nat mumbled under her breath, her long fingers slid the half full plate away from her and went to her lips as she swayed.
"Romanoff, in a minute we're gonna start calling you the Green Wido-." Tony began but Natasha cut him off by rushing from the room, her feet smacking the kitchen tiles as she went to the sink, dodging Thor and Steve to reach it.
I dropped my fork and ran after her, hearing the sound of her vomiting, I grabbed some water from the side and put it next to her head; then I pulled the grown hair from her face, hearing her soft moan of protest at being helped.
"What's wrong?" I whispered my mouth close to her ear so that she was the only one that heard. "Are you-?"
"No, don't be stupid." She snapped, harshly, her head turned to glare at me but she couldn't handle it. He hands gripped the edges of the sink as she hurled up her little bit of batter.
"Nat, are you gonna be okay for work today?" Steve asked, stepping closer but flinching and deciding to stay back as she upchucked in response.
"Not right now, Steve." I mumbled, pulling her up and quickly setting her down on Thor's make shift bed in the front room, her forehead sweating and her eyes feverish. Tony ran in, handing me a bucket and ran out again, his voice letting out a shriek as she threw up into it.
"Oh, how embarrassing." She muttered, throwing her body back down onto the sofa's pillows and keeping the bucket close to her. I pushed back her scarlet fringe and pulled myself up and away from the feeble woman.
The men, which we had left in the room, couldn't be hidden further away from the door with the television turned up to the loudest setting that they could get; Fury was even humming loudly.
"Is she alright?" Steve asked, he was the closest to the door, his face filled with concern.
"I don't know, I don't think it's anything serious; just flu."
"FLU! Flu is serious, Tori! Flu is the Devil's way of sending punishment to this Earth! Flu is… evil!" Tony yelled, pushing himself into the wall behind him as he heard Natasha throw up, again.
"Stop being so dramatic, Stark." I snapped, glaring at flamboyant billionaire. "Besides if Natasha has flu than the only people in this house to not get it will be Steve and Thor; there's nothing you can do about it."
"Hardly seems fair though… I'm too young to die." He whimpered, his head falling down to land on chest.
"You're 46." I spat.
Tony's head shot up; the glare that he was wearing was one of the worst I had ever seen him wear; it was even worse than the one he gave Loki. "45."
"Anyway…" Steve interrupted, giving me and Tony the same fatherly pointed look. "We still have a problem, Nat obviously can't go to work and we need the money that she was bringing in today. What are-?"
"I'll do it." I said, quickly and plainly. Their heads all snapped to face me sharply and wore the same of expression of 'No way in hell.'
"Oh come on. It's not like it's tough work and if Nat was able to do it all these weeks than so can I."
"Thanks, Tori!" She called, from the other room, her voice dripping in sarcasm and bitterness.
"It's not that-." Fury began, slowly.
"It's that Loki has seen your face-." Clint seconded his voice just as equally patronising and low.
"… and there are men out there in that place that I do not want you meeting."
"But also you're a way to get at the Avengers; Loki probably has people looking for you." Steve said, his eyebrows rose at Tony.
"I would think that Loki has better things to do than worry about me… Like looking for the Avengers?" I spat, glancing from one to the other. They all frowned back at me, even as I turned to Steve and Thor.
"Steve, all these weeks you've been working in the same place; day after day after day. Have you ever once seen a Chatari or a Legion?"
Steve opened his mouth but had to shut it as he thought about his response, pouting and frowning at me. "Well that doesn't mean that Loki isn't looking for us."
"But it does mean that he hasn't found us." I said, shaking my finger at him, I turned to face Thor; staring up into his impassive face. "In all the news have you heard or seen anything about me or Pepper or Jane or any of us?"
"There were some articles about not trusting the Avengers but nothing was mentioned about you."
"You see? I'm safe. Besides I know how to defend myself, I spent all that time beating you up for a reason." I said, looking at Tony imploringly. "Come on, do you really want to send one of the others out there?"
They agreed begrudgingly and I ran up the stairs to get ready; I dipped my head into the shower and pulled it out after I pushed the shampoo on. I couldn't be greedy about water now, there was so many of us and we had to learn how to conserve.
I yanked on a loose vest and shorts, digging my feet into a pair of boots and throwing a jacket over my arm. My hair was pulled up into a bun and Pepper slapped some sun cream onto my pale flesh. I dodged passed her and hissed as she squirted more onto my exposed legs.
"I am doing you a favour! I remember Marrakesh!" I rolled my eyes and tripped down the stairs, finding Steve at the bottom waiting for me; with Clint at his side.
"I thought that it was your day off." I said, slowly; watching as Fury threw him a bow and sheath of arrows. "Oh, come on."
"Tori, they have to ensure you are safe, no matter where you are. Clint Barton can see everything that you cannot; do not be proud." Thor said, appearing from the other room, a plate of pancakes tucked into his chest.
"Nice to see that your appetite has returned, Thor." I said, pulling on the jacket and following Steve to the door. "I do, however, fear for the dishes."
He laughed as we left the house, Clint trailing behind us with toast sticking out of his mouth. Steve pulled me over to his bike and stuffed my head into a little helmet on the back, I sighed and glared up at him but he just smirked and swung his leg over the seat, waiting for me to do the same.
Clint smirked at me from inside the car as I rested my hands on Steve's waist and held onto him, I leaned forward and muttered in his ear. "Just, you know, drive into his car and crush him."
We laboured in the fields for a few hours, picking the grain or whatever it was that we were doing. By the end of our first shift, my back was killing me. How Natasha managed to do this every day astounded me.
I let out a sigh of relief and fell down to the ground, hitting it with an 'oof'. Steve sighed, dropping the metal object in his hand and settling next to me. Basking in the warm sun as it hit his alabaster skin; bitch probably didn't even burn.
"Have you ever worked like this before?" He asked his voice either sincerely curious or rude.
"We do things a little differently to the way they were when you were my age, when was that… 100 years ago?"
His hand hit my face and he rolled me away from him, I laughed as he did so, throwing my head up to look at him. He smiled down at me and shook his head, letting his eyes roll back under his lids and close as the sun hit him.
I stood up and cracked my back and neck, checking the lane to look for the shop that I had seen as we drove here; it was about a mile and a bit down to the left. Not that long a distance in New York but in bloody Texan heat it seemed an eternity away.
"You're not going." Steve said, taking my ankle in his hand and keeping me in place. I sighed, spinning around to face him and watching as he opened his eyes to look at me.
"Please, Steve, I need a cold drink."
"Then I'll go-." He made his way to stand but I shoved him back into the ground, one hand on his shoulder.
"No, please, just let me go. I swear, I'll be right back." I stared into his eyes, blinking once or twice and keeping my eyes as big and wide as I could without looking like a frog.
I saw him waning as he looked at me, his hand relinquishing its warm grip on my leg. Turning away from me he mumbled something about getting him one too. I smiled, kissed his check and skipped over to the road, heading towards the small little shop.
As I neared it, I could see the sign flickering above the top of the door, it was small rustic and in desperate need of T.L.C. but it sold coke so I wasn't complaining. I pushed open the rusty door, the hinges creaking as I forced the effort onto the worn wood. The floorboards buckled and dipped beneath me but they managed to stay in place, the woman leaning on the desk glanced at me when I walked in but said nothing, just looked back at the magazine she was reading.
I found the fridge and grabbed the handle, picking up two cokes by their tops and grasping them tightly. I paid her with some of the money I'd grabbed before running from Stark Tower and left; making my way back to Steve and Clint.
I was halfway there when I heard it, the sound of the Chatari aircraft over my head, and then the sound of it stopping and moving down closer to me. Dropping right in front of me and behind me. Blocking me in. Cutting off my exits.
I barely had to think or act, I just stood there frozen in place with my heart thundering against my chest and head screaming orders at me, orders that I failed to comply to.
The bottles slipped from my hands and smashed at my feet, I was sent flying onto my back as a Chatari slapped me around the face, my head hit the aircraft behind me and I lost my grip on reality.
My heads calls got weaker and my heart beats were dulled. All I could think, as the world grew black around me, was Steve waiting for me in the fields, Clint panicking as I failed to return, Tony's face as they told him, Natasha's yells, Pepper's grief… The burn on the arm that they would mark me with in the labour camp.