Lost Before The Dawn
Warnings: Some violence.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, or you'd definitely be getting copious amounts of Lokane in Thor 2.
Chapter Playlist: 'Assault' and 'They Called It' from 'Avengers Assemble', 'Tower Prayers' from 'Snow White and the Huntsman'.
Jane was vaguely aware of a rhythmic vibration against her head, compounding the general ache running through her entire body as she groggily came back to awareness. She frowned, moving her head and wishing she hadn't, groaning.
"Foster!" a familiar voice barked, as a low-pitched groan filtered through Jane's overtaxed senses, and she groaned again. "For god's sake, get it together. Are you hurt?"
Jane finally forced her eyes open to find Agent Romanoff lying across from her, lithe limbs splayed across the metal gantry they lay on, her leg trapped by a fallen fragment of piping. "My ribs, I think. And my head's not too good," Jane gasped out, as her vision wavered and darkened at the edges, until another agonised groan from somewhere behind her made her freeze.
"Ok, Foster. You need to get out of here now," Romanoff growled urgently, and Jane ached to ask why. She remembered the explosion, and then falling, and pain but little else. What was wrong?
What was happening?
Romanoff started speaking again but Jane realised not to her. "Bruce, you got to fight it. This is just what Loki wants!" she gasped out, and the pain in Jane's head and side suddenly seemed quite inconsequential as her befuddled brain suddenly put the pieces together. Bruce. Explosion. All that arguing in the lab…
Oh God.
"It's going to be ok, listen to me!" Romanoff continued, and for the first time, Jane detected a slight frisson of fear in the steely assassin's voice. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she forced herself upright onto her knees and scrambled towards Romanoff, away from Bruce. The assassin waved her away urgently, hissing "Get out of here, Foster!"
"Not without you," Jane snapped quietly, her vision clearing as the pain forced her to focus, and her eyes ran along the pipe trapping the agent's leg. She glanced toward Bruce, writhing and groaning, clutching his head as he tried to fight off the transformation into the Hulk, and frantically tried to think of a way out of this. "Keep talking to him. Try to keep him calm!" she hissed, crawling to the pipe and eying it speculatively. "How bad is it? Is your foot hurt?" she asked.
Tensely, Romanoff shook her head, eyes fixed on Bruce. "Get out of here, Foster!" she snapped. "There's nothing you can do."
"Try to wriggle your leg out," Jane replied, ignoring her order to go. She wasn't going to leave her there. "I'll try and lift the pipe enough for you to free your leg. And keep talking!"
Romanoff sighed, but kept talking to Bruce as Jane gingerly tested the weight of the piping, and ruefully wished she'd done more gym time in the past. She heard a particularly tortured scream as Bruce cried out, and she looked sideways to see the green tinge already overtaking his tanned skin, his eyes turning green. Just Loki's skin in that vision…
Forcing the thought away, Jane grit her teeth, as her ribs screamed in pain, and summoned all her strength, as she tried to shift the pipe off of Romanoff's leg, enough that she could wriggle free. She heard a tearing sound and more screaming and groaning, but she refused to look. If she looked, she'd freeze and they couldn't afford that. A small cry of her own escaped her as she put in one final effort, and the pipe moved just enough, as Romanoff forced her ankle free, dragging herself upright.
Romanoff grabbed her and dragged her a few feet away as Jane finally looked in Bruce's direction and saw the towering figure of the Hulk in the gentle doctor's place, and this time terror rose up and froze, as the Hulk roared in rage, smashing his fist into a gas canister.
The Hulk heard them and turned, growling, bearing his teeth.
"Foster, run!" Romanoff snarled, shoving her around and towards a set of stairs. Freed from her paralysis, Jane ran, as the Hulk came for them, scrambling to run up the stairs, the pain in her head and side forgotten as adrenaline kicked in.
She glimpsed Romanoff flip herself up onto the next flight before the ground suddenly fell from under her feet and she almost fell, crying out as she did, but a strong hand gripped her wrist, hauling her up and over the side, as the Hulk screamed at them in frustration.
Romanoff dragged her on, into the maze of pipes and gas canisters in the bowel of the helicarrier, not stopping until the growls and roars of the Hulk grew slightly distant. She tugged them both to a halt, and Jane bent over, panting for air.
"Thanks….for grabbing me back there," she gasped, pulling her hair away from her face, wiping away the sweat. The red-headed spy nodded once, her face carefully blank for a moment before she met Jane's eyes.
"You too, Foster," she muttered, a tiny hint of a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth before she grew stern. "Now, you have to go. No shut up and listen!" she held up her hand as Jane tried to interrupt. "I need to keep him away from the main areas of the helicarrier and I can't do that if I'm worrying about civilians. Just get away from here and let me handle him. You've done enough."
"But what about you?" Jane asked worriedly. There came another roar and the sound of tortured metal, and both women froze, senses stretched for any further sound, any possibility they were discovered.
Romanoff shook her head. "Don't worry about me, Foster. Get to the detention level, get to Loki," she told her. "The engines are down and most of the systems are vulnerable. Find Thor and get to Loki. You're the only one that might slow him down."
Jane stared at her, before nodding once and backing away. Romanoff drew her guns and turned away, eyes and ears alert for any sign of the Hulk.
Jane turned and ran.
She didn't have a clue where she was going, but as she heard more roars and explosions further behind her, she guessed the Hulk was busy chasing Romanoff. Guilt gnawed at her for a second, before she pushed it away. There was nothing more she could have done, she was no super-assassin.
But she doubted even Natasha Romanoff would last long against the Hulk. She could only hope Thor might find them and take the fight over.
She didn't have a clue where the detention level was, or where she was, and kicked herself for not asking. Sweat poured down her back beneath the SHIELD issue jacket and t-shirt, and the pain in her head and side was building again.
She glanced down, and saw a thin yellow stripe running along the metal flooring, and she frowned. Follow the yellow brick road, huh? Worth a try…
Hoping her instinct was correct, she followed it, further and further into the bowels of the helicarrier.
After five minutes of walking, Jane was getting worried again, as the explosions and the shouting drew nearer, and she hoped against hope she wasn't walking into a fight. Or worse still, the Hulk.
Romanoff's last words rang in her head, keeping her fear at bay. Find Loki. Slow him down.
Yeah, like anything I say really gets through that thick, stupid inferiority complex of his. And don't even get me started on his ego…
But it was the only plan she had, so she pushed onwards, pushing her hair out of her face, slicked with sweat, blood and grime.
Eventually the yellow line led her out into a corridor, filled with hazy smoke and the occasional body slumped against the walls, unmoving. Swallowing her horror, Jane paused before shrugging her shoulders and running down the corridor. If she could just find one she recognised, one that she'd been down earlier to go to the detention level, then…
Suddenly she spotted men in SHIELD gear up ahead and paused, instinct warning her that these were not friendly. She ducked behind a network of pipes and gas ducts, listening hard.
"You, seal off this junction. You, come with me. We need to get to the detention level!"
These had to be some of the SHIELD agents Loki had enslaved. Or mercenaries Barton had hired. Whatever, they could lead her to Loki, if she was careful.
Looking around, for anything, any kind of weapon to defend herself with, she spotted a fire extinguisher. Momentarily reflecting on the absurdity of SHIELD having fire extinguishers attached to the walls instead of one of those hi-tech sprinkler systems to put out fires, she grabbed it, silently groaning as her side twinged.
Moving as silently as she could, she moved out from her hiding place and bashed the sentry over the head with it, taking him down like a tin can. Pausing to check he was still breathing, her eyes fell on the small handgun tucked into a holster on his hip.
Jane didn't like guns, she really didn't, but she knew how to use one. Eric had taught her once, before she moved to New Mexico, and she vaguely remembered how to hold it and cock it. Don't close your eyes when sighting, don't grip too hard, and squeeze the trigger, don't pull it.
"Better safe than sorry," she muttered, swiping it up and shakily hefting it in one hand. She just hoped she wouldn't have to use it.
Suddenly, Jane's stomach bottomed out, and she was flung sideways as the floor lurched downwards. What the hell…?
She lost her footing and slipped, as the floor became a slippery slide and she frantically scrambled for a handhold, finally managing to grab hold of a side of a doorframe and hold on, her shoulder and elbow joints screaming at the strain. Abruptly, it levelled out again, and Jane forced herself upright, sprinting onwards.
She saw a flash of gold, blue and red, her heart pounding as she recognised Thor, sprinting down a corridor perpendicular to her, and she called out to him, but he ran on, deaf to her calls.
She heard him shout "NO!" as he tore through a doorway, and recognised the corridor they'd stood in and discussed Loki, outside of his cell.
Hefting her stolen gun, she ran after him, just in time to see him fly through the air, seemingly tackling something to the ground, only to fall flat on his face in the cell, as the doors clamped shut behind him.
Jane gasped as she flung herself up the gantry, just in time to hear Loki's taunting quip. "Are you ever not going to fall for that?"
Jane inwardly shook her head. They were trying to kill each other, and they still sniped at each other like brothers.
She paused, gasping for breath, the pain in her ribs washing over her like a hot wave of scorching metal on her skin, and stared at Loki, cool and unruffled, watching his brother in his former prison, hands held lightly behind his back. Abruptly, his gaze flicked to her, and did she imagine the slight glint of relief and concern in those emerald orbs before they faded back to blue?
"Jane," he breathed, and she found herself unable to look away. Why? Why did he have to look at her like that, and be a complete, homicidal nutter?
Belatedly remembering her gun, she raised it and pleased to note that despite her injuries and her adrenaline levels, her hand didn't shake.
"Jane…" Thor muttered warningly, but she ignored him, her world narrowed down to just her and Loki, as he smiled, chuckling.
"Jane, come now," he murmured, saying her name in a far softer and infinitely more seductive tone than Thor. "You are many things but a killer is not one of them."
"Oh so this thing could actually kill you then?" she asked, out of breath and gritting her teeth against the pain. Loki laughed out loud at that, signalling to his men to lower their weapons. He knew, damn him, that she wouldn't shoot him.
His eyes raked over her form, noting her slumped shoulders, the way she bent over herself slightly and the permanent grimace of pain in her eyes and on her lips, She turned her head slightly and knew he saw her head wound. "You are injured," he breathed, moving across to her so quickly, she wouldn't even have had time to blink. His hand clamped down on her side, making her gasp but the pain faded away immediately, and the head wound stopped sluggishly bleeding, and she could think straight again. Or not as the case turned out, as she inhaled and the scent of him pervaded every sense, making her heart pound for an entirely different reason now.
Slow him down. Get him to listen.
She wondered if she was finally going mad, at the sound of Romanoff's voice in her head. But the reminder brought clarity, and she refocused as Loki stepped away, his hand leaving her waist.
As he moved away again, she threw the gun away. At Loki's narrowed stare, she shrugged. "You're right. Not really my style," she told him archly. "So this is what you wanted, all along. Chaos."
"I had worried your naiveté and blind faith might have prevented you from following my little hint," he replied smoothly. "Clearly, I worried for naught. Well, what say you now, Jane? What of your mighty, glorious heroes now?"
"I never thought they were heroes, and I sure as hell don't approve, but even I can see the reasoning behind their madness. And while I plan on giving Director Fury a giant migraine when this is over, this changes nothing," Jane retorted. "Did you really think I was so weak to collapse and run to your arms like a child who's just been told there's no Santa Claus? Think again, Loki."
Loki's amusement faded, to be replaced by a calculating stare which made her slightly uncomfortable, but which she endured defiantly, folding her arms. She was aware of Thor's gaze on her, but he stayed silent. Letting her handle things.
"What are you going to do?" she asked quietly, meeting his eyes and they flicked between blue and green, as if indecisive. Like there was some great battle waging inside of him.
Suddenly the blue burned brightest, as he glanced towards his erstwhile brother, with a devilish smile. Jane followed his gaze and horror rose within her as realisation hit.
"Don't do it," she breathed, as Loki's gaze fell on her once more. "Don't do this, Loki."
"You know your ancestors once believed us to be immortal," he grinned, backing away towards the control panel, as she followed slowly. He paused before the transparent readout, his hand hovering over a button, big and threatening, as Jane shivered. Loki's grin was feral, as he glanced at Thor, then back at Jane? "Shall we test that, Doctor Foster?"
"No!" she shouted urgently, alarm breaking into her voice. She rushed forward, unthinking in her urgency, and covered his hand with her own, holding his eye determinedly. "You don't have to do this."
"Why? Because he is my brother?" he demanded scornfully, but Jane just shook her head. She wasn't stupid enough to try that tack, that wouldn't work. Something came back to her, something he'd said, ages ago it felt…
"How does it feel, to know you desire the kiss of a monster?"
As before, she knew it wasn't the whole reason why Loki was doing what he was doing, but it might be enough to make him pause.
"Because you are not the monster you think you are, nor do you have to be," she finally said, softly, feeling the slight tension in the hand beneath hers, as she met his gaze determinedly. The words at the tip of her tongue rankled slightly, but if it saved Thor and stopped Loki doing something truly unforgivable and irredeemable, then she'd swallow her pride. "Please…show mercy."
Loki's eyes widened, and he jerked upright, staring at her like he'd never seen her before. His eyes shone green, and she knew Thor had witnessed the change too, as he glanced towards Thor, then back at her.
Loki stared at her. She stared back.
Their silent battle didn't end until the sound of a body slumping to the ground punctured their little bubble, and a cool, calm voice called, "Move away, please."
Agent Phil Coulson had seen a lot of strange and terrible things in his time as a SHIELD operative. He'd seen men cry at the first sight of a gun against their temple, and women fighting as fiercely as tigers to protect their secrets. He'd seen flying suits of armour, green giants full of rage, ordinary looking people with the power of gods, and a Norse God come to life in front of him.
Suffice to say, very little could surprise Coulson anymore.
Except this did. This trumped them all.
The sight of the petite, really quite insignificant Doctor Foster, her hand tightly folded over Loki's, gazing up at him with an obscure mix of pleading and hope in her eyes, defiance and strength radiating from every pore, despite the dried blood crusting in her hair, and the bruises from her mad flight from the Hulk. And the way Loki looked back.
He looked…lost. Torn and desperate, searching for something in Foster, something Coulson didn't have the time to understand, not when Thor was trapped in the cell and Loki was within reach of the release button. Foster had delayed him, but Coulson wasn't about to take the risk she could hold him forever.
So he stepped forward, knocking out the mercenary sentry, before hefting the large prototype gun in his arms, based on technology salvaged from the remains of the Destroyer Loki sent to Puente Antiguo.
"Move away please," he called, stepping forward into the light. Both startled, as Thor glanced at him with a warning in his eyes, and Loki spun to face him, hands raised, eyes fixed on him intently. He gestured with his gun and Loki's eyes glanced down at it and back. "Doctor Foster, please move back."
"Agent Coulson…" Jane breathed, but he ignored her.
"You like this?" he asked Loki, as memories of smashed cars and dead agents came back to the forefront of his mind, and a hulking silver giant. "We started working on the prototype after you sent the Destroyer. Even I don't know what it does…do you want to find out?"
He fired up the weapon, with a fiery whirr, just as Foster's eyes widened and her mouth opened to shout a warning.
"Behind you!"
He moved on instinct, moving sideways but a little too slow. A sharp pain erupted in his left arm and he cried out, dropping the gun, as warm blood dripped down his arm. Out the corner of his eye, he could see the point of a familiar blade piercing his shoulder and upper arm.
The gun fell to the floor, useless, as he collapsed, blood loss making him dizzy.
Jane watched in horror as Coulson collapsed, the double beside her shimmering out of existence, Thor's shouted "No!" reverberating in her ears.
Loki stepped out from behind Coulson, a feral smile on his features, his eyes shining a mad blue. "Do not fear, Jane. He is wounded, but not fatally," he told her casually, as he stepped over him, the sceptre back in his hands.
"Oddly enough, that's not reassuring," she snarled at him, rushing to Coulson's side. He was still alive and just conscious, his eyes fluttering weakly. She stripped off her jacket, staunching the wound with it as best she could. A sudden rush of wind interrupted her, and she looked sideways to see the opening below Thor's cell opening, and horror filled her. "No!" she cried out, but it was too late.
Loki pressed the button, and Thor dropped from sight.
Rage filled Jane, and any pity or compassion she had felt only a few seconds ago melted away under its fire. She spun around and launched herself at Loki, aiming at wherever she could, wishing she'd kept hold of the gun.
Not that her blows did any damage of course.
He grabbed her by the waist and forced her back against the railing, trapping her against him. "My, aren't we upset, Jane? Especially as you told me you feel nothing for him?" he snarled at her, and she hissed in pain at his grip.
"You don't have to be in love with someone to not want them dead!" she snapped back. "Your own brother!"
"He is not my brother!" he growled back and she hit him again, hard on the shoulder. It hurt her knuckles more than it hurt him.
"So you're not brothers by blood. He still goddamn loves you even after you tried to kill him once already!" Jane replied heatedly. "You idiotic, brainless, sonofa-!"
"That. Is. Enough!" Loki roared, but not before she slapped him around the face, and this time, she drew blood from his lip. They both froze, as Loki brought one hand up, wiping away the blood disinterestedly, before meeting her wild, burning eyes.
"The Aesir are stronger than you ignorant, weak little mortals are capable of realising," he hissed at her malevolently, as she defiantly refused to drop her gaze.
"He fell over ten thousand feet!" she spat at him. "You might be bloody resilient, but I doubt even you lot could fall that far and just walk away."
"Thor will not die from that fall, and he possesses Mjolnir. I needed him out of the way until the time is right," he told her haughtily, still not releasing her from his grip. He swiped at his lip again, and a chuckle dispersed the murderous expression on his face. "You have strength in you, Jane. Anyone else would not have dared. Anyone else I would have killed on the spot for daring to strike me."
"You won't kill me," Jane replied firmly. "You couldn't."
He stilled, and she felt her breath strangling in her lungs as her gaze unwillingly dropped to the smooth, hard lips in front of her, the lower only slightly marred by the angry red line bisecting it. Jane wanted to take it into her mouth, to kiss the blood away and equally, bring him more pain, until it mingled with the pleasure.
What are you doing…?
Her brain snapped at her, but she wasn't listening, enthralled by the physical sensations her senses were cataloguing and the adrenaline, anger and urgency burning inside her.
He didn't seem unaffected either, if the tight grip around her waist was any indication, and she could feel his own gaze on her mouth as surely as if she was watching him do it from a distance. A hand came up and cradled her jaw, and her eyes fluttered halfway shut, before she defiantly opened them again.
Loki chuckled, quietly and weakly, as she raised her eyes to his, and held his gaze. "Little Jane Foster," he breathed softly. "Who looked at the stars and dared to dream of their secrets, who fights against the inevitable and refuses to bow. What am I to do with you?"
"You're better than this, Loki," she murmured gently, all anger bleeding out of her. "You could be so much more, so great but not like this…"
"I will succeed, Jane," he replied. "And I will return and make you my Queen."
She shook her head. "No you won't," she whispered. "Even now, you're still lying. To me, and to yourself."
"This world will belong to me, as little else ever has," he told her, with a certainty which should have chilled her, but just saddened her. "I…belong nowhere, and so I have no other choice now."
Jane felt herself start inwardly, staring at him, as his words sank in. What…?
Loki seemed to comprehend the impact of his words, as he drew back, but his eyes remained soft and green, as he sighed. "I cannot take you with me, it is too dangerous. This world will soon become a battlefield, but be assured, Jane. I shall come for you," he told her, with one last caress of her cheek with his thumb.
Jane's eyes widened as she went to speak. "What-?"
Loki's hand shifted from her cheek to her eyes, drawing them down, calling forth his magic and slowing her senses, lulling them into slumber as she collapsed abruptly. He caught her and gently laid her down on the metal gantry, tucking her hair back as it fell across her face, and trailing his fingers across her soft, blood-marred skin.
His hand, imbued with the touch of her skin, clenched into a fist as the gemstone in the sceptre glowed a fierce blue, and his eyes shifted in colour once more. His face hardening, he stood and turned away without looking back.
A soft, weak voice made him pause. "You're going to lose."
He turned back to see Coulson's eyes weakly staring up at him, certainty in their dull brown depths.
"Am I?" he asked silkily, dangerous and soft. Jane slumbered behind him, and he realised the prototype gun Coulson had carried was now in his lap and haphazardly pointed at him. He shifted in front of her protectively, eyes fixed on Coulson. "Your heroes are scattered, your flying fortress falls from the sky. Where is my disadvantage?" he asked.
Coulson's eyes darted to Jane, slumped against the gantry behind Loki, and Loki's face hardened. "You lack conviction now," the wounded agent replied sluggishly. "It's not what you really want."
The trickster's face contorted with scorn and rage as he angrily began to reply, but Coulson managed to find the strength to pull the trigger, the gun powering up with a roar, a ball of compressed flame erupting from its snout and blowing Loki through the wall.
"So that's what it does," he breathed in satisfaction, before the pain spiked and unconsciousness snatched him away.
To be continued...