Chelsea Grin (15)
What It Means To Be Human

No one knew that Loki and Natasha ever came and went. When they were ready to go home, Loki took Natasha's hand and they teleported under the cover of darkness. It was a strange experience for her, but she reckoned that Loki was used to it, since he did it so often. Teleporting was undeniably convenient. Otherwise, she would drop at her door from exhaustion.

Loki helped her slip the scarf from her neck. He unbuttoned his own coat, and set Stitch and Mr. Boris side by side on a couch, while Natasha went to the kitchen.

"I'll make hot chocolate," she offered. "Would you like some?"

Loki smiled. "Yes, that would be excellent for tonight."

A minute later, the couple curled up on the couch, sipping their hot chocolate in quiet content. Loki had used a spell to siphon the heat with a wave of his hand, to make it just warm enough and not too cool.

She rested her head between his neck and shoulder. He got a good look of how beautiful her red curls were.

"Natasha...? I'm curious...if you weren't an assassin, or an Avenger, what would you be?"

Finally she said quietly, "If I could lead a normal life, you mean? I...I would've been a dancer."

That intrigued him. He had never seen her dance before, but he wasn't surprised by the fact. She moved with an air of grace, whether she was walking or fighting with such strong legs.

"The Asgardian palace has a wonderfully large and ornate dance room," Loki said. "We always hold the most important celebrations there. Warrior commemorations, victory feasts, birthdays, weddings..." he trailed off and blushed at the last word. "And we regard the best dancers with great respect. One day I will take you to Asgard, and you could dance to your heart's content."

Her eyes lit up and she kissed him. "I would love that."

The kiss, combined with the hot chocolate, made Loki feel very warm and elated.

For Natasha, Loki's question invoked memories resurfacing from childhood obscurity. She did not cherish the dancing incorporated into her fighting style, but dancing for its own sake. Those were the rare moments she could let her guard down, and cast away all her worries as her body moved across the dance floor. What could it have been like? To join a prestigious troupe and dance Russian ballet until she grew too old and tired? To live and die in her homeland? To be free of the terrible Red Room experiments? She couldn't imagine that kind of life at all.

She should have been dead a long time ago, but her enhanced physiology stretched her lifespan beyond its natural limit. She was born on November 22, 1928. Yesterday marked her 84th birthday. She wasn't nearly as old as Captain Rogers. But unlike him, Natasha had seen and lived through many wars. No one would believe her if she told anyone, not that she was allowed anyway.

Her S.H.I.E.L.D. file covered this with a forged identity, but only Fury and Clint knew the truth. Clint liked to say how she had the eyes and mind of an old woman beneath her young face. He meant it as a complement. Natasha was experienced and mature well beyond her appearance. But there were times she wished she could trade that for a normal life, however short and happily ignorant it would be.

And deep down, despite the futility of it, Natasha always wanted to be a mother. Back in her Red Room days, she had accepted her condition without so much a shrug of her shoulder. It was something every trainee had to live with. The danger of unintentionally conceiving children was too great. Even having the intention would be a major hinderance to serving the country. Some of her earliest missions involved killing children, and she carried these out dutifully. The desire arose shortly after joining S.H.I.E.L.D. Discovering the corruption and inhumanity of the Red Room was the reason she left in the first place. As a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, she embarked on a few missions involving the rescue of children from scum like drug dealers and human traffickers. Each time, she harbored a fierce desire to protect these children. They deserved better than what she had to go through years ago. Natasha treasured their innocence. And she never hesitated to fight for their sake.

Would she make a good mother? She'll never know. The thought of it saddened her.

Loki noticed the slow transition of wistfulness to sorrow on her face. His arm tightened around her. "I'm sorry...I did not mean to upset you."

She shook her head. "It's not your fault. I've been thinking...how I could be a mother if I wanted to, or if I could."

"I see..." Loki said softly. He was shocked for a moment. Despite his curiosity, it would be rude to prod her for details and risk upsetting her even more. He assumed that the demands of her dangerous profession, and the works of sinister Midgardian technology, prevented her from the capability.

Then he felt as if he was seeing her in a new light. Here was a woman, with dreams, desires and sorrows like any human being. He loved that part of her, just as much as he loved the strong, controlled warrior side she often presented. The feel of her warmth, her petite frame, even the mere movement of her chest as she quietly breathed, struck him as something amazing.

Natasha was warm and living, not cold and dead. It took time and understanding for one to see that in her.

'She is completely human, yet she captivates me with a power stronger than any spell. She is truly a marvel.'

With a sudden rush of affection, Loki kissed her scarred cheek, starting at her cheekbone and making a soft trail down to her lips.

Natasha smiled when they broke apart. "You taste like chocolate," she said.

"You too," he replied.

She leaned forward to drop a playful kiss on the bridge of his nose. Then she put her cup down and touched her forehead. Her brow furrowed in pain.

"What's wrong, Natasha?" Loki asked.

"Just a headache," she mumbled. "Maybe it'll go away."

"We've had a long day. You should get a good night's rest."

She didn't object to that. Loki finished his hot chocolate and helped Natasha up. They left the living room together, with Loki's arm over her shoulder. She felt very warm; he hoped she wasn't feverish. Then she stopped to hug him.

"Thank you, Loki. I had a fun day."

He returned her embrace. "So did I. I'm glad you enjoyed it."

She nodded drowsily and stifled a yawn. "G'night."

Loki changed into pajamas he had recently bought. He slipped comfortably into bed and closed his eyes.

His transition from reality to the dream world was like being in heaven, only to have the clouds give way below him. Loki found himself in the dark. It closed on him and seemed to suffocate him. He felt as if his senses were deprived. He wished he knew what was going on.

Up ahead, Loki saw a pair of lights. Then four, then six. When they came closer, a chill crept up his spine. The lights were eyes.

A wolf materialized from the darkness. A bear followed behind, and a crow flew overhead. Loki couldn't move. He stood there, paralyzed and filled with dread.

'I have seen them before.'

The three animals circled him slowly. The wolf and bear prowled without a sound. As if closing in for the kill. The crow circled over his head like a vulture claiming its carrion soon to be devoured.

Loki desperately wanted to run away. But he was caught in their trap, almost mesmerized by their eerie movements.

The wolf, bear and crow morphed into one being, a humanoid figure all too dreadfully familiar. Loki wanted to look away, but he couldn't. The instant the animals combined, the darkness faded to reveal the bedroom Loki occupied.

His heart almost stopped. 'No, it can't be...'

Salastarr bared his blood-red teeth in a triumphant grin. "Found you, trickster."

He stretched out a pale, blue hand to seize Loki's throat.

It wasn't his scream that woke him up. Loki lurched forward in bed, violently trembling and with a hand clutched tightly over his chest. Natasha cried out in pain from the next room. His eyes widened.

'Natasha!'

Disregarding his own wellbeing, Loki swiftly ran to her room. The bed sheets were thrown aside. Natasha tossed and turned in the mattress. Her face was pale and contorted, as if under the throes of torture.

"It burns! Loki, help me!"

It pained him to see her in such vulnerable agony. He was at her side in an instant. He wrapped his arms firmly around her. Perspiration coated her entire body. Her undershirt was limp and soaked under his hands. For once, he was grateful for his Frost Giant skin. From head to toe, his body became cold and blue. One hand caressed her head while the other stroked her back. Her trembling subsided a bit.

"Fire...fire everywhere," she whispered. "Children and the elderly burning...the hospital too. It was me. I set them on fire. Someone laughed...as I burned with them..."

"Shh...it'll be all right, my love. I'm here, darling..."

Fiery remnants of a horrible dream...not unlike his own experience tonight.

He knew of the hospital fire from the time he had possessed Barton, and coaxed the information out of the agent. He didn't forget the barely concealed horror on Natasha's face when he had cruelly reminded her of crimes she had committed. A pang of guilt struck his heart.

'I'm responsible for her suffering. What can I do to undo it?'

Loki wondered about the laughter. He didn't remember it being part of Barton's story.

Natasha tilted her head to gaze at his pale face. "You don't look well either," she murmured.

Loki stiffened. He was loath to tell her about his nightmare. It seemed so terribly real. He thought that he had abandoned those dreams for good. Tonight, he was gravely mistaken. Even the presence of Natasha could not make his fear and despair go away.

"Loki? Is there something you're not telling me?"

She sounded curiously concerned, not angry. Loki was about to speak when her phone rang. Natasha reached across the nightstand, composed herself and promptly answered it.

"Natasha Romanoff. Who is this?"

Both of them heard over the phone: "Hello Tasha. It's been a while."

Her eyes flew wide open. "...Coulson?" She was at a loss for words, which did not happen often. "Wh-what? How...?"

"No time for questions. Save the sentiment for later. If Loki's with you, bring him too. Meet me in the NASA lab. This is a Level 5."

Natasha quickly got up and went into her closet. With deftness and efficiency gained from experience, she changed into her S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform with little effort. The weariness seemed to leave her as she resumed her usual air of control.

"What is a Level 5?" Loki inquired.

"An emergency. Hurry and change; we're needed there urgently."

He simply closed his eyes. With his magic, he changed into a suit without moving a muscle.

Natasha couldn't help but make an amused smirk when she watched him. "That works too."

He offered his arm and she took it. "You know where we're going?" she asked.

Loki nodded. It was the very same place where he had arrived on Earth. In a matter of seconds they went from Natasha's apartment to the NASA lab.

All the Avengers were assembled. Tony came in with his Iron Man suit. Bruce stood next to him. Steve had his shield close to his side, and Thor had Mjolnir tight in his fist. Even Clint was there. Natasha saw Director Fury and Maria Hill too. Who she saw next filled her with mixed awe and joy. There was no doubt about it: Coulson was alive. He leaned against crutches and stooped a little. Otherwise, he looked well.

Coulson stepped forward from his place next to Steve. "Good. Everyone's here. Now, for the situation at hand..."

He gestured to the center of the room. Loki's scepter, supported by an apparatus, emanated a bright unstable glow.

"It started acting up approximately 3 hours ago. I brought Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner in here first so they could investigate."

Loki and Natasha exchanged a glance. 3 hours ago, they were spending their evening at Manhattan Bay.

"It's reacting to something, that's for sure," Tony said. "But to what, we don't know."

Bruce spoke up next. "The scepter's emitting radiation; thankfully it's coming off in trace amounts, barely enough to cause damage."

The light from the scepter grew brighter and stronger. Energy rippled and pulsed as it began to form a large sphere.

Bruce looked at it with alarm. "But at the rate it's going, things could get ugly if something isn't done soon."

Tony pointed at Loki. "Hey, the scepter used to be yours, right? You did good to call him in here, Phil. Maybe he can shut it off."

Loki frowned. "Technically it does not belong to me. I don't know if I can-"

"It's worth a try. Bruce and I can't even touch the darn thing."

"But you still think that touching the scepter will make it stop reacting?" Steve asked.

Bruce nodded. "It seems like the only way. We can't use electricity to turn it off. It doesn't even have an on or off switch in the first place."

"Perhaps one who has mastery over the scepter also has the power to stop it upon contact," Thor said.

Tony looked impressed. "L'Oreal's got the idea. So it's obvious that Loki has to get up there and touch it."

"But Loki isn't the master anymore," Clint said in a calm yet sure voice. "Natasha should go."

"Why her?" Loki asked sharply.

Natasha caught on. "Because I was the last one to hold the scepter. I used it to close the portal."

Now Loki remembered. Natasha had the scepter in her hands as she coolly stared down at the defeated God of Mischief. That seemed like ages ago.

Loki steeled himself. "All right. We'll go in together." He looked uncertainly at the strong waves of energy. "There's no way I'm letting you go in alone."

Natasha nodded in determination. He held her firmly by the waist. Together they walked through the surge of energy, slowly and steadily. Everyone held their breath. Loki and Natasha had to lean forward and plant their feet apart, as if they were enduring a gale of wind. Loki stretched out his hand and grabbed the scepter. Natasha followed suit. And the energy instantly dissipated. The couple held the scepter together, looking dazed and relieved.

Just when everyone thought things had gone quiet and settled, Loki felt some unknown and terrible force grab hold of him. He recognized this sensation. He felt the same way during that party at Stark tower, when he had attacked Thor.

Natasha backed away, watching in wide-eyed fear as Loki convulsed. A thin blue film formed over his eyes. She knew that look. So did everyone else. His skin turned blue, but not quite the shade Natasha was familiar with. Her heart clenched when she saw his teeth turn blood-red.

Thor made to approach him, but Steve held him back. "What is this wicked sorcery?" the God of Thunder demanded.

Loki was in panic. His body was not his own. He felt as if his voice and mind were pushed aside for the intruder to control the rest.

"Salastarr. How did you find me?" Loki's voice was mingled with anger and fear.

The Orodruin cackled through Loki's mouth. "It seems that you have an unusually strong bond with that woman." Loki felt himself gesturing to Natasha, though it was Salastarr's action. "The same woman who last held the scepter. Your capacity for love became your undoing. I've located you using the connection between the woman and the scepter...and finally, her connection to you."

Natasha's face was one of worry. She reached out to him hesitantly. "Loki, what-?"

Suddenly her body was seized by a malevolent, unseen force. She went rigid and let out a strangled cry. Then fire erupted out of nowhere and surrounded her.

Loki's stomach twisted in horror. "Natasha!" His shout was lost amid Salastarr's laughter.

The Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents gaped. Even Fury looked shocked. He and Maria aimed their revolvers at Natasha, cautious but unsure of what to do.

Flames of all colors, orange, yellow, and blue, engulfed her body and lanced out like fiery snakes. Her eyes turned completely black, devoid of color and soul. Blood trickled from her nose and mouth as her features contorted beyond human proportions. A feral grin stretched from ear to ear. The movement looked forced, as if someone unseen was cruelly pulling at Natasha's face. Her wounds reopened and blood dripped down her chin. Her lips pulled back to reveal fangs and a grossly elongated tongue.

"Ahahahahaa! You mortals look even more pathetic than I could imagine!"

The voice out of Natasha's mouth was as fiery and sinister as the surrounding flames. It was low, harsh and undeniably masculine. Whoever speaking was not Natasha Romanoff. She looked like a demon out of hell.

"Identity yourself!" Fury demanded.

"You dare address me in that manner, you insolent one-eyed worm? I am Surtur, the Lord of No Life. The King of Muspelheim!"

Only Thor and Loki recognized the name. Both felt their hearts seized with pure terror and dread.

Loki's accusing voice momentarily took over. "It was you. You were the one tormenting Natasha in her dream."

Natasha-Surtur grinned maliciously. "I do not have the level of skill Salastarr has when it comes to possession. But getting a hold of this weak female was easy enough."

Loki cursed. Clint was livid, but Steve held him back with a firm grip on the shoulder.

Loki lowered himself to his knees and bowed before Natasha. But everyone knew it was actually Salastarr kneeling before Surtur.

"Lord of No Life, would you like to deliver the message yourself?"

"The pleasure is all mine, Orodruin." Natasha-Surtur turned to the Avengers and fixed them with a burning, coal-black gaze. "Salastarr came to me personally on behalf of his master, Thanos. He asked for my service, with a very interesting proposal. We mean you no harm...yet. We are here on a simple request."

"Simple? I doubt it." Fury retorted.

"I will make this short and straightforward, since you seem to demand it so badly." A sinister gleam betrayed the blackness of Natasha-Surtur's eyes. "Turn over the trickster, and your little planet will be spared."

Loki went numb with shock. He saw everyone else mirror his reaction as all eyes went to him.

"It has come to my attention that the God of Mischief is not a welcome sight, nor a welcome presence, on Midgard."

"He had committed terrible crimes against your world," Loki-Salastarr spat. "He murdered and slaughtered your people. He reveled in the blood he had spilled. Surely you demand retribution."

Natasha-Surtur extended a clawed hand interlaced with flames. "Give him to us, and relieve yourselves of the burden you carry."

Loki-Salastarr held up a pair of fingers. "2 days. That is how long we will let you make a decision. Consider carefully. Whether your world faces salvation or destruction is up to you."

Natasha-Surtur's tongue flicked like a grotesque serpent as he leered. The room reverberated with his explosive laughter. Then Surtur departed violently, in a burst of blazing fire. Salastarr followed suit with a billowing purple smoke. The limp bodies of Loki and Natasha collapsed to the floor.