Chapter. 16: Home Again

Sorry about posting this so late, I came done with a bad cold and I have little creativity when my head feels like exploding. Hope you're not TOO mad, here you go!

Loki knew what he had to do, and he has known this for a while, but either pride or fear was stopping him, maybe both. He knew earth could not help Natasha…and although he would like…thoroughly enjoy, even to say he did not care about her life; but he did. She was not like the women of Asgard, whom some before would try to flaunt themselves to him, trying to slither their way up to high position. No she was different. She was so strong and fiery, much like the warm fireplace he spent many nights by, staring into the enchanting flames. There was no chance of not getting burned… but the fire so warm, so enticing. Loki looked down at the silent now fragile form of Natasha Romanoff. She looked so scared and small in her demented sleep, her eyelids twitched from the dark magic coursing through her veins… the dark magic he inflicted upon her. He sat of the edge of the old bed, the springs within squeaked against the added pressure. He placed his hand on her neck, his fingers tracing the thin blue lines stitched into her neck. Part of him wanted to stay that way, but he got up, cursing, at this weakness that was crawling up inside him. He stalked up to an antiquated desk, stationed in the corner. Sitting on the corner was a small glass vase, holding a bright red rose. One of a blazing hot red, he traced his finger along the edge before letting it drop to his feet.

He felt the glass bounce off his leg, a slight sting, but nothing that won't heal in a few seconds. The rose lay on the yellowed carpet, something beautiful hidden under a blanket of jagged debris. He shook at the sentimentality of his thoughts, and focused his mind to the task at hand: He needed to get Natasha to Asgard, and to do that he needed the teseract…the only problem with that was that once again S.H.E.I.L.D had it. He sighed… there was much doubt in his mind in trying to sneak in, without anyone knowing. He will most likely have to appeal to Thor's good natured side… a task that Loki was certainly not excited for. The brute that was his brother was too accepting and forgiving, and that was his biggest weakness. He breathed a sigh, like his final breath and scooped up Natasha's cool limp body in his arms and focused his magic on teleporting them to S.H.E.I.L.D. He knew he would be weakened from the journey, of teleporting right there with no stops, but he wasn't planning on fighting…too much. He felt the familiar rushing sensation as his senses of the world around him temporarily, his mind focused only on his destination. He still vaguely felt Natasha's weight on his arms, but she seemed much lighter, as if she was floating just above his reach and he could feel her presence. He landed, not as graceful as usual, just outside of the base. The front and back were both heavily guarded, although he didn't see many guards he knew they were there. The wall closest to him had a low set window, he smiled, the mortals really do not care too much about security. He cast a spell on himself and the woman in his arms. It was not as powerful as he would like, but he had been using much magic lately and he was starting to feel the side effects. Quickly Loki propped open the window… it was locked but he knew how to deal with these Midgardian devices. Stealthily he crept in and near- closed the window, a few millimeters from relocking. He started to walk down the tiled hallway, when he heard footsteps behind him; although he was invisible, he wasn't muted. He stopped and turned his head, he saw one of the Avengers standing there, the one with the bow and arrows. Clint Barton. He smirked and rolled his eyes remembering how weak his mind is, filled with guilt, regret, and indecisiveness; emotions the strong can never feel.

"Who is there?" Clint asked to the air and reached for an arrow. Loki internally sighed and shook his head, knowing he had to use Barton to get to Asgard. He took off the cloak of his spell and stepped in front. He saw the man's eyes widen for a moment before a gleam of sheer hatred caked over.

"What?" Loki asked, turning on his sarcastic nonchalant voice, "Weren't expecting me."

"Put Natasha down!" He commanded. "She doesn't need the blood of your death on her." Clint loaded his bow and directed it at Loki's forehead.

"If you want her to live you will take me to the teseract! Earth cannot help her anymore!" Loki responded annoyed already.

"Like hell! Give you one of the most powerful weapons we have ever seen, I'm sure our hospitals will do just fine." He growled back.

"Just like they did for your Agent Coulson?" Loki said, and knew he hit a weak spot. Clint stared at Loki for a moment, then his eyes drifted down to Natasha's body. He could her purple skin, and how mentally and physically hurt she was.

"Fine." He huffed, knowing that the gods of Asgard will most likely kill him when he gets back. "But she returns worse off, and you are dead." Loki nodded and cast the invisibility spell on himself; he told Clint he would follow him. Finally they reached a locked off door. "It's in there." Loki looked in through the glass and saw a metallic box.

The box that holds his ticket back.