Over the next few weeks, Grace began to experience the nightmares more frequently. They started to come every night and sometimes even when she fell asleep during the day, which was occurring more often. She found herself cancelling her work days, calling to re-arrange clients, making excuses to friends when they called to invite her out and finding any reason not to leave her flat. She recognised her behaviour and her emotional state as reminiscent of some of her more traumatised clients, and of herself back in the days when she had been with Ben. Something about her meeting with Fury and the others had triggered a deep-seated feeling that she needed to retreat from other people, from the world and anything that could hurt her.

She stared down at the glowing screen of her cell phone. Clint Barton. She had left a message cancelling his appointment this week, as she had done for the previous two weeks since their last meeting. She closed her eyes, steeling herself to ignore him, again as she had for the last two weeks. She had spoken to some of her other clients, spun a story about a family member being unwell and needing to take time off, but she had not spoken to Clint. She was convinced that he would just try to change her mind about providing therapy for Loki.

Leaving the phone on the couch, Grace walked over to the window, and stared out at the rain and the clouds swirling around the tower block she lived in. Recently she had been reflecting on what Fury had said, about doing therapy with Loki because it would be an interesting challenge. Despite her indignation on the day, she had come to realise he was right, and that she had come to pride herself on how easily she could connect with people and make them feel comfortable. How she could get them to trust her. The realisation had made her feel terrible, and had also made her reflect on what she saw as her recent failings. She had failed to see through Ben's charm and manipulation and she had failed to see through Clint's deception, and she had begun to query which of her clients, if any, she had actually been able to help recently. She kept thinking about her recent sessions with Clint, how she had viewed him as 'evasive', and yes, despite her words to Fury about her intentions as a therapist, she had started to think about how she could 'crack him', make him drop his defences. Maybe Fury had read her just right and she really was doing this for purely narcissistic purposes.

Grace felt her eyes begin to sting with tears. She looked back at her cell phone, to see that it was still glowing green; someone was still trying to contact her. She turned away. Grace was certain she hadn't originally trained as a psychologist because she was a narcissist. She had genuinely enjoyed talking to people, connecting with them, and had felt privileged to share both their suffering and their victories over their troubles. She had been drawn to working with trauma, particularly childhood trauma, because of her own experiences and a certain knowledge that she had been able to overcome her own difficulties and so could help others. When she had started working in New York, she'd genuinely felt that she'd walked into her dream job. Looking at herself now; ignoring clients, giving in to her old fears, and uncertain about her own motives; she wondered whether she was even in the right career.

She moved back to the couch, grabbed the phone and pressed the green button, "Yes."

"Doc, it's Clint." He sounded uncertain.

"I know." She stared blankly at the wall.

"Er, I guess I was just wondering when we'd be able to start our sessions again? I've been having some trouble with the nightmares recently, and I was hoping to talk to you about it….."

Grace laughed, "Nightmares? Tell me about it." She muttered.

"Are you having nightmares, Doc?"

Damn it! she thought. Another rule broken. Disclosing her own issues to clients was something she never used to do. She sighed, "Yes. Look, Clint. I sort of assumed that we wouldn't continue our sessions after the meeting with Fury."

A pause. "Why?"

She frowned, "Well, because, I thought you didn't really need therapy. I guess I thought you'd just been coming to see me so that you could set up the whole Loki thing."

Another pause. "Doc, did you feel like my symptoms, what I told you, weren't genuine?"

Grace thought back to her previous sessions with him, "No, I thought you were absolutely genuine. I suppose I've just stopped trusting my instincts."

She heard him sigh, "I'm sorry if what Thor asked you to do had anything to do with that. Look, I'd really appreciate it if we could have a session this week. I'm struggling."

Grace nodded, grabbed her diary and turned to the page where she'd struck out Clint's name. "Ok. Same time as usual. I'll see you there."

She hung up and flipped to the back of her diary, finding the name and number she was looking for and dialling it before she could give herself chance to reconsider.

…...

"Grace, come in! You have no idea what a shock it was to hear from you after so long." Paul patted her shoulder as she walked past him into his office, and took a seat.

She nodded, placing her bag at her feet on the floor. "I know, Paul. And I'm sorry for not being in touch. Things got really busy and well, things were going really great for a while."

He sat opposite her, crossed his hands in his lap and raised his eyebrows, "But not anymore?"

Grace shook her head, and immediately felt her eyes brimming with tears. Paul had always been able to do that to her. She reached for a tissue. "Sorry."

He laughed, "You should know by now that the therapy room is as safe a place as any to cry if you need to. What's going on? Not Ben again, is it?"

She frowned, "What makes you ask about him?"

"Well, the last time I saw you like this was when things got really bad with Ben. You seem broken, Grace. Uncertain about yourself and what you're for." Paul stared at her intently.

Grace was struck by the similarities between what Paul had just said about her and what Clint had said about Loki in their last session. She nodded, "You're right. I don't know who I am, and why I'm doing what I'm doing anymore. I can't help anyone, Paul. I can't even help myself."

"I don't understand."

She shrugged, "Neither do I. I've been asked to do something, by some really powerful people. It's something I'm not sure I want to do….or not sure I can do. It's something that terrifies me in a way that nothing has terrified me since Ben."

He nodded, "So, say no."

Grace smiled, "That's the thing though, I'm in two minds about it." She looked at him, "Paul, what do you enjoy about being a therapist?"

Paul sighed, "I think that changes every day, depending on who I'm seeing and what I'm doing." He smiled at her and she nodded inviting him to continue, "I enjoy talking to people, I think I'm good at talking to people and understanding them." He noticed her smile drop slightly and changed tack, "I also like the challenge, Grace. Therapy can be like chess, don't you think? I enjoy the game of trying to make the right moves to leave someone just vulnerable enough that they trust you and start to open up."

She frowned and looked at her hands, "Isn't that a little narcissistic, Paul?"

He laughed out loud, "Yes, yes it is. But everyone's a bit narcissistic Grace. We have to be to survive don't we? I mean, if we didn't believe we were special enough or skilled enough to have value in the world where would that leave us?"

She nodded, "So, it's ok then?"

Paul shifted in his seat, "What's ok? Grace, what have you been asked to do, and why does it scare you so much?"

"You remember Loki, right? Well, he's in prison at the moment, and apparently not doing so well. His brother, or not really his brother I guess, is worried about him. I was approached and asked to provide therapy."

Paul didn't move, didn't say a word.

"That's what scares me, Paul. The whole idea of it. I mean, I've been trying to empathise with this guy since I started my job. Trying to understand why he did what he did. I can't. I honestly don't believe I could like him enough to work with him and I don't think he deserves help. He reminds me of Ben, not in how he looks, I mean in how he behaves, who he is. And, that makes me hate him more. The only reason I can see to do it is for the reason that you just outlined. As a challenge."

Paul shook his head and stated, "That's not what scares you."

Grace frowned, "What do you mean?"

He stood up and walked to the window, "What scares you is your hatred. And what you think that emotion could make you do. What scares you is that you're considering accepting this job in order to take revenge."

She shook her head in protest, "No. I mean, revenge for what? He didn't hurt me directly."

Paul looked at her, incredulous, "I'm not blaming you for this feeling, Grace. It's better that you accept it than try to avoid it. You have plenty to take revenge for. All those people you work with; he destroyed their lives. Maybe you also want to take revenge on that part of him that reminds you of Ben; maybe you want to see whether you can play someone just as manipulative and cruel as Ben was at his own game, and win."

Grace put her head in her hands again. "God, you're right. I think you're right."

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and looked up, "Grace, these are normal feelings to be having. What scares you so much about them?"

"What scares me is that I sound like the abusive one in that scenario right? If I go in there with the aim of doing therapy with someone who is imprisoned for his crimes, someone who is vulnerable, with the intention, whether conscious or unconscious, of causing them harm, then I'm the abuser. I can't be that person." She felt a tear roll down her cheek, "You know why. I won't be like him."

Paul knelt down beside her, "This is a decision only you can make. But, I trust you. You are in control of this. You control your emotions, your actions and how you choose to respond to others. Knowledge about your feelings and your possible motives and intentions makes you powerful. You should remember that."

…

And so Grace accepted the challenge she had been set. She would meet with Loki and offer him therapy sessions. She made it clear that this must not become common knowledge, as her allegiance as a therapist was still to the victims of Loki's crimes, rather than to him. She also refused to go to Asgard to see him. The meeting was to occur on her terms or not at all. She would offer him the same type of meeting, with the same boundaries, that she would offer to any client. Of course, the meeting couldn't happen in New York; nobody would allow that. And so prior to her first meeting with Loki, she found herself in a Shield facility just outside the city, being briefed by Fury about what she should and should not stay and reading a history sheet prepared, she assumed, by Thor.

He stared at her across the table, "You can't interview him without a guard."

Grace shrugged, "Deal's off then. Therapy is a private business, Director Fury. I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't offer him the same terms of confidentiality and privacy I offer to everyone."

Fury gritted his teeth, "And I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't protect you from him."

"What do you think he's going to do? He's restrained, isn't he?"

Fury nodded slowly, still reluctant, "Yes, but….."

Grace stood, "No arguments then. We have an hour. Unless you hear me scream or I pull my panic alarm then I don't expect to see you again until that hour is up." She raised her eyebrows at him, "Clear?"

The Director nodded, guiding her towards the door. "Perfectly, Dr Somerson." They stopped in front of another door, which was guarded by two men, "Please be careful. Don't antagonise him. And, don't tell him anything about yourself. He'll use it against you."

She smiled, "I will try my best." Then she stepped through the door.

…..

He was as she remembered him from television. Pale, obviously tall, with long black, somewhat tousled, hair. He was smiling at her, in a decidedly unfriendly and somewhat predatory way. She sat down opposite him and put her hands on the table in front of her. "Hello. My name's Grace."

He raised his eyebrows, "Fantastic. I have you to thank for my little day trip, then, do I?"

She nodded, "I suppose you could say that. How are you coping with your imprisonment?"

He simply grinned at her, and sat back in his chair. She smiled back, "Is something funny?"

Loki shrugged, "I just think that's a pretty amateurish question. I heard you were good."

Grace frowned, "What do you mean? What did you hear?" She felt uncomfortable, immediately on the back foot. Loki obviously knew more than she thought he did.

He leaned forward, interrupting her thoughts, the smile gone from his face, "How do you think I'm coping with my imprisonment? How would you be coping with being locked up for the rest of your natural life?"

She nodded, swallowing, "Of course, it must be difficult…"

"It's not difficult. It's boring. Nobody to talk to, nobody to play with…..until now." He stared at her, the smile slowly sliding back to his lips.

Grace forced herself not to look away, "What do you want to talk about?"

In a burst of movement she was not expecting, Loki slammed his fist on the table, and then just as suddenly went quiet and leaned back again, "I want to talk about you. Tell me about yourself."

She shook her head, "I'm sorry, that's not why I'm here. Your brother asked me to come and see you, he's worried about you." Loki was clearly unpredictable, damaged, and the best option available to her was to lay her cards on the table.

Loki stared down at his hands, "He's not my brother. You know that. Try harder, Grace."

She sighed, "I'm here to try to understand you, and why you did what you did. I know that Thor isn't your brother, Odin isn't your father. I know that you found this out fairly recently. That must have been difficult…."

"Why do you think everything is so difficult for me, Grace?" He rolled his eyes, "Being in prison is 'difficult', finding out my family isn't really my family and never loved me is 'difficult'…

She held her hand up to stop him, "Why did you say that? I mean sure, your family isn't really your family, but they raised you, right? What makes you think they never loved you?"

He leaned across the table, raising his cuffed and chained hands, "Look at me. Would I be here if my family loved me?"

Grace shook her head at him, "You're in prison because you committed a crime. You understand that, right?"

He laughed again, "What crime did I commit, really? Your kind were born to be ruled. I was simply trying to take what is rightfully mine."

She gritted her teeth, "And what makes you feel that you are fit to rule over us?"

He stared at her, raised his voice, "I was born to be a King, you fool! You're pitiful, just like all the others, weak, vulnerable, easily scared and subjugated. It's all that you deserve."

Grace glared at him, "You were not born to be a King. Thor was born to be a King. You were left alone to die when you were a child, and you would have done if Odin hadn't rescued you."

He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Check mate, she thought. "You call my kind weak and pitiful, but what about you? You grew up believing that you were royalty, and the minute you learn that's not true, the minute you encounter adversity you throw a monumental tantrum and try to enslave an entire planet!" He was still staring at her, his eyes wide, his mouth still open as though he wanted to speak.

She stood up and walked around him, "How do you think I've had to deal with problems in my life, and how do you think all those people you hurt in New York are coping? Do you think they get to just throw a tantrum and have somebody clear up the mess for them? Well, they don't. We have to struggle and suffer and keep going. That's not weak in my book." She headed to the door, meaning to leave him with his thoughts.

"Tell me about your life." She turned to find him looking at her, with what seemed suspiciously like tears in his eyes.

She laughed, "One more thing for you to think about. You think we're easily scared and subjugated. Well, I'm not scared of you. I've dealt with people like you, worse than you, before, and I'm still standing."

She reached for the door handle, "Who have you dealt with? Did someone hurt you?" His voice was soft, and she felt like she wanted to answer, but forced herself not to.

"We've all been hurt by someone, Loki. You're not on your own with that." She didn't turn around to look at him and silently left the room.