Chapter 3
"I really don't understand you," Tony said. He was holding a glass of scotch that sloshed dangerously close to the lip and reaching over the chess board balanced on the padded footstool to move his knight out of danger.
"I'm really not that complicated," Loki replied as he moved a pawn. "Much like you."
"I'm not sure if that's an insult or a compliment." Tony moved his bishop.
"I believe insulting clients is logically bad for business." Loki moved another pawn.
"Yes but you defy all logic and reason." Tony moved his king.
"I'm hurt. I like to think I am a rational agent for chaos."
"And thus the contradiction, and you say you're not complicated." Tony moved his queen.
"I'm really not." Loki moved a pawn. "Check."
"Then explain the logic of invading the most populous and well defended city in the world." Tony moved out of check.
"New York is neither the most populous, that would be Shanghai, nor the most well defended." Loki moved his knight. "Check"
"Excuse me, what other city has a Hulk coming to its rescue?" Tony took Loki's knight.
"I do not believe it was the city of New York that the beast was fighting for, it seemed he was motivated most by his own enjoyment." Loki moved his queen.
"Point taken." Tony's eyes followed Loki's last bishop across the board. "But still, New York was a terrible place to attack."
"I thought it served its function well." Loki moved a pawn again. "Check."
"Explain that one." Tony took the pawn with his king.
"I might if you win." Loki moved his queen again.
"Fuck!"
"Check mate."
"You slimy bastard," Tony drained his glass and glared at the chess board.
"I like this game."
"Of course you do, you like winning."
"Who doesn't?"
"No arguments. Again?"
"I have no desire to beat you again. You have drunk too much to be an engaging opponent."
"Give me half an hour."
"To do what?"
"Get more wasted. I could only ever beat Roodie when I was smashed."
"A friend of yours?"
"Who?"
"Roodie."
"What?"
"You just said…"
"Shut up about Roodie, Ok? You don't know shit about him!"
Loki fell silent. Tony put his head in one hand and the glass dangled dangerously in the fingers of the other.
"I need another," he mumbled and stood up, "Want one, Lokester?"
"No, thank you."
"For an agent of chaos you're very Canadian."
"A majority of residents in Canada would disagree and many more would be offended."
"So?"
"And I did not earn the name Silvertongue for nothing."
"Didn't make you a lot of friends though."
"No, most people do not appreciate being manipulated."
"No, we don't." Tony poured himself a large glass and ambled back to the couches. Half way he stumbled on the new, black and white patterned carpet and amber liquid sloshed over the side of the cup and onto the floor. Tony ignored it and sank back into his seat. He took a few sips before he spoke again.
"How's Emily?"
"She's doing well." Loki forced a smile.
"Yep." Tony nodded. "That's what you say every time and that's why you were drinking coffee from a vending machine when you got here. I mean do you know what they put in that stuff? You must have been really desperate to drink that."
"I admit your scotch agrees with me better," Loki replied and sipped from his own glass.
"Damn right," Tony drained half of his.
"Emily was admitted last night." Loki's voice was a horse whisper.
"She alright?" Tony asked without thinking. Loki froze, glass halfway to his lips and slowly turned his head to give Tony a glare, leveling the man with burning blue-green eyes. Not a muscle of Loki's face twitched as he turned away again. "Ok, dumb question." Tony muttered. "She still there?"
"Yes."
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"Working."
"She's—"
"Expensive," Loki cut Tony off. "Time's almost up."
"Yeah, Happy will drive you back to the hospital."
"No, I need to go home and change."
"Why? Got another job?"
"Yes."
"Right."
There was a moment of tense awkward silence.
"Why don't you come around Wednesday?" Tony asked suddenly. Loki jumped and cocked his head to the side, questioningly.
"You want to skip next week?"
"No. I like meeting on Mondays; Mondays suck with Wednesdays as a close second. You're the most intelligent company I've had all week and I work with the 'greatest minds of the age'." Tony quoted the recent review of his company's Artemis Project that he'd been complaining about for the past two weeks. "That is if you're not busy with real clients," Tony mumbled and drank his scotch.
"I- I am actually but next Wednesday my schedule will clear up."
"You plan on pissing someone off?" Tony looked over the lip of his cup with one eyebrow raised. "Isn't that bad for business."
"Yes but so are bribes."
"Eh?"
"Never mind." Loki said with a mischievous smile.
"Sir," JARVIS said as if on cue. "Mr. Hogan has arrived with the car for Mr. Larson."
"He'll be down in a minute." Tony said to the ceiling.
"I should be going."
"Sorry we didn't get to the fun part."
"Perhaps next time, Mr. Stark."
"Yep. Tell Emily I said hi."
"Of course."
"Hey! Wednesday!"
"Same time?"
"Yeah, what ever. JARVIS, put that on the calendar."
"Right away, sir."
"Good evening, Mr. Stark."
"See ya round, Reindeer Games."
"You do miss that helmet don't you?"
"Not at all. Abomination to style."
"And your tower was a contribution?"
"Smart ass."
"Always." Loki grinned at Tony as the billionaire leaned back on his sofa to look over his shoulder. The elevator doors closed and the car jerked as it began it's decent. Tony was left sitting alone in the large empty living room that smelled like disinfectant and new carpeting. He grimaced and drained his cup.
"JARVIS, order more scotch."
"Sir, I should remind you that it is almost dinner time and you have not eaten since—"
"Mute."
.
Loki was brought out of his exhausted daze by the hollow clatter of plastic and rubber hitting the floor.
"Uh oh," Emily whispered and looked down at her doll on the floor, her shaky hands still held out in front of her and the dolls flowered skirt in her lap.
"It's alright, I'll get it." Loki replied and leaned down.
"Thank you, daddy," She said and took back the precious friend. "I'm sorry, Christie." Emily cradled the doll to her thin chest, smiling at the dark face of the Barbie. It was the only one she owned, a second hand gift from Shea. The long curly hair was course and cropped unevenly by a child's hand. There were a few bite marks on the feet from Shea's younger twin brothers and only a hand full of clothes for the neglected toy but it was Emily's best friend. Loki owed Shea more than he had for the simple gift. It may not have meant a lot to the teenager but it did to Emily. Loki looked over the plate of hot dog pieces and half full bowl of vegetable soup.
"Emie," Loki frowned. "You need to eat."
"I'm not hungry," She muttered and petted Christie's head.
"Emie min, please, just a little more? I don't want to fight about this—"
"You have another red spot," She said and pointed at his neck. She knew it bothered him when she pointed them out and he knew she was trying to change the subject.
"I'm not worried about that, I'm worried about you. You need food Emie."
"I'm not hungry."
"Do you feel sick?" He asked bending toward her.
"No."
"Emie? Why don't you want to eat your dinner?"
"Not hungry," She said again and pushed Christie onto the table, pointedly looking away from her adopted father. She reached over the table to the small television resting against the wall and pressed the buttons.
"Emie, not while we're eating."
"I'm not eating."
"You need to eat."
"I'm not hungry."
Loki sighed and rubbed his pounding temples with his fingers.
"There's an apple in the fridge, would you like that?"
Emily pressed the channel buttons until the snow and static went away. A scratchy news station came up on the screen.
"Emie? Would you like apple."
She glanced at him and then around the room. Loki leaned into her view. The child nodded slowly.
"Alright. I'll be right back." Loki reached over to turn off the television.
"NO!" Small hands grabbed his and pulled it weakly away from the button.
"Ok, Emie, just this once," he said. He went into the kitchen to get the apple and pulled out a dull knife to cut it. As he methodically peeled and sliced he watched Emily at the table. The frail girl was wearing a cotton dress, leggings, socks and a sweater that nearly covered her hands as well as her favorite pink hat with a sequined flower that she liked to have right in the middle of her forehead. She had Christie back in her lap and was petting her short jagged hair, ignoring the television where an announcer droned on.
"… the fire killed 12 people and burned for 10 hours. Fire Marshals claim it was accidental. In other news, the Director of the Department of Consumer and Regulatory Affairs, Margret Morris, was arrested this weekend when shocking news came to light. Police Chief Wallace said in a press release early this morning that they had solid evidence that Morris—" Loki shoved a VHS tape into the old television and cut off the evening news. He put the plate of apples down next to Emily.
"What do we say?" He asked her as she reached for the first piece.
"Thank you, Daddy." She replied and shoved the apple in her mouth, chewing it loudly. She hummed a little in happiness and twisted Christie's arms. Loki smiled to see her eating even if it was only a little apple.
"One for you too," She said and held up a piece to him.
"I already ate, elskan," He said but she didn't take her hand down just pushed the piece of fruit against his lips. His empty stomach revolted at the idea of food but obediently Loki ate the fruit and forced himself to chew and swallow it.
"Good?" Emily asked.
"Very." Her smile made it worth all the effort and he smiled back. She took that as invitation and crawled across the chair into his lap, her bony knees digging into his leg. The small girl curled up with a yawn in his lap and held her doll to her chest. Loki tried not to flinch away. It wasn't Emily's fault; he just didn't want to be touched. He still felt dirty and defiled after his job that evening. He'd been trying not to think about it, the smell of the man's skin, the way his hands crept and grasped and the pain. Instead he thought about the bills that he had been sorting the night before, the already dwindling money. Emily's hospitalization that week had set them back and he would be struggling to keep the house warm enough as it was that winter. Emily needed a new jacket and he didn't know when he'd have time to go looking for one in the second hand stores that were quickly running out of supply. He wrapped the frail girl in his arms and stroked the pink hat.
"I'm sleepy daddy."
"That's cause you haven't eaten enough." He could feel her shaking her head against his chest. "Alright, bed then." Holding her he stood, lifting the small child with far too much ease. She was too thin, too weak, too small. He shuffled to her room, over broken toys and pushing aside ripped tutu's and mismatched ballet shoes. He laid her down and pulled up her covers, tucking them in firmly so she couldn't accidently throw them off in the night. He fixed her hat lower around her ears, the sequined flower still in the center of her forehead.
"Daddy?" She said softly.
"Yes, Emie."
"I love you."
"I know, Emie min. And I will be here with you till the end."
"Christie loves you too," She said, adjusting the doll so it lay on the pillow beside her.
"Tell Christie thank you."
"I will."
"Go to sleep, Emie. School tomorrow."
"Do I have to go?"
"Yes Emie. I have to work and you have to go to school."
"Why can't we just stay here? Why can't every day be a weekend?"
"Because of money."
"I hate money."
"Me too, Elskan. Good night."
"Good night." Loki bent down and pressed a kiss to the girl's small cheek. He turned on the pink night light beside her bed before closing the door behind him. He turned off the television in a daze, cleaned up the bowls and food, then wandered into his room, pointedly avoiding the shoebox of overflowing envelopes stamped with "URGENT" and "DUE" in favor of falling on the cold mattress and curling up in the musky scent of the old quilt there. He hoped the smell would drive away the floral scents of hotel cleaning supplies and starchy sheets. For a few blissful moments it did and he could remember the guest bed in a house by the sea. He could smell the salt off the ocean and the detergent Shannon used. He heard the old house creak as the wood frame shifted and the floors groaned even under Emily's small chubby feet. He could see the room in his mind, the cream walls and pale paintings of seascapes, even the small violets some dry and old, others fresh, arranged on the nightstand. Those were the last thoughts he had before drifting into the blackness.
.
Everything was white in the dream, white walls, white floors, white ceilings, white bed, white sheets, white cuffs on his wrists, white tag on his door, white gowns on the attendants, white gloves on white men with white masks and the lights, always the lights. Do you know where you are? Do you know who you are? Can you tell me? I believe you. I believe you! And so I am going to kill you. But do not be afraid you won't die. No, I am just going to kill your mind. And the lights burned his eyes and the white crept onto his skin. No, please! He had screamed. Can't you see this? He wanted to ask all the others in white. Yes I'm the one doing it. That one would say. Yes it was me and the others just nodded and pushed the plunger. Tubes and tubes and tubes and he fought and fought and raged against the restraints. And the tubes bit him, the lights burned him and the white got into his mind and it bleached him, bled him dry.
Loki's eyes snapped open to the darkness and he gasped deeply off the frigid, foul smelling air. His wide eyes darted over the nightstand and the water stained wall dimly lit by the street lamps outside. Slowly, he sat up, letting the quilt fall away and the chill wash over his skin. It stripped away the last thoughts of sleep and lingering images of his dream. Loki rubbed a hand over his face. Movement caught his eyes and he froze.
Emily stood at the end of his bed with a blanket wrapped around her small shoulders and trailing over the floor toward the door. Her hat was askew and her bottom lip was trembling as she stared at her daddy with wide blue eyes.
"Oh Emie," he breathed. It broke a sort of spell that sent her scrambling over his bed to throw herself into his arms. A strangled sob broke through her lips as she clung to him with shaking arms. "Oh Emie, I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"
"Daddy," she just moaned and held him tighter. Loki sighed and felt sick in his heart. Emily slept so little even without his nightmares disturbing her. Between the two of them they rarely ever slept the whole night through.
"Oh Emily." He held her close and pulled the quilt and covers up around them. He tucked Emily's blanket between them and wrapped her tightly in it. He fixed her hat with shaking hands while she sobbed lightly. He didn't have any words for her to make anything better. He didn't know how to explain why he had nightmares. He didn't have words that would sooth her back to sleep. So they laid there together, Emily crying softly and him silent, curled around her, trying to keep her warm. He pressed his lips to the rough knit of her hat and breathed in her smell, of ocean and sickness. It was foul and rank but it was real. After his dream of the white disinfected hell it was a welcome relief, grounding him to reality and to her. They lay together until the street lamps turned off. Emily dozed but Loki didn't dare sleep again.