~*~ School sucks, that's all I have to say.
Warnings: Mentions of violence
Musical Muse: *bad Austrian accent* De Terminatah. Actually, looking back, that's what I was watching when I wrote the last chapter. What can I say, I like those movies!
Disclaimer: I'm just another fangirl waiting for Season 3 and Thor 2.

~*~Orientation~*~

After a week of hellish misery, Loki found himself, for the first time in his life, completely free.

As soon as he was able, he moved off the dangerous couch and back into his basement room. It was musty, cold, and unwelcoming, but it was his, and he was glad to have it. He was alone there, completely alone, where no tormentors could barge in. Even the troublesome man upstairs could be kept out, thanks to the multiple locks.

As soon as he knew he would not be disturbed, the first thing Loki tried was to bring back his magic. He sat on the uncomfortable mattress, focusing on his hands, willing them to shape a knife, or a flower, or even ice. Aside from a slight tingle in his palms, nothing materialized. The only thing that happened was the very tips of his fingers turned blue.

Loki stared down at his fingers, studying the new tone of his skin. He could almost see the inscribed lines that defined his true race, rising against his skin slightly. He wondered why his Asgardian appearance remained even with his magic drained, but decided that it was such a long-term spell he had unconsciously cast upon himself. It would likely remain despite his efforts to remove it, because he knew he did not want it removed. He did not want to see what he truly was.

For the first time in his life, Loki was without anyone to stop him from causing mischief or make him do anything he did not want to. It was foreign, this feeling, and strange, but wonderful. Once he had control of his magic again, he could do anything he wanted. Oh, he might have to hide his true nature from the men upstairs and the kind lady, but that was a small sacrifice, and he could abandon this place at any time. What could these mere mortals do to stop him? It was thrilling, this rush of freedom, and as long as he kept his identity hidden from any searching eyes, he could do whatever he liked. Loki found himself almost weak with glee.

He was not a Jotun. He was not an Asgardian. He was Loki. And now he was free, and alone, and could do as he liked.

Over the next few days, Loki's strength returned, thanks to the heaps of tea and pastries Madame Hudson fed him. Tea seemed to be the most common drink of this region, and Loki found he had quite a liking to it. The Doctor kept an eye on his injuries, but they healed quickly, Loki was pleased to see, and eventually he was left alone. The clever one kept his distance, and as far as Loki knew, he kept Loki's true identity to himself, even from John. Sherlock never took his eye off him when they were in company together, on the rare occasion Madame Hudson forced them all to dine together. It was her attempt to better acquaint them, but it was uncomfortable for all involved.

After a week without symptoms, Loki took to leaving the flat for extended amounts of time, wandering the streets without a care. He rescued a knife from an undeserving wielder, and searched the darkest alleys and deepest sewers without a care. He also shamelessly snatched more clothes from the upstairs man, and delved in the upper crust as well. Always observing, he learned many things about this realm.

The largest source of gossip consisted of the certain destruction of a certain city across the ocean, and the antics of the political leaders and players. The mess of bureaucracy and fighting was amazing to watch, and the men and women themselves were the most complex humans he had the misfortune to encounter. Their homes were large and extravagant, their parties wild and shining. Their smiles were bright but their words sharp – they gave compliments and threats in the same sentences. Loki admired that.

In the lower levels, the people lived packed tightly together, living their meaningless lives. The lowest of the levels, the people who didn't even have homes, their lives fascinated Loki as much as the richest. The people were interesting, the crimes had meaning, and they were everywhere, unnoticed. It was from one of them that Loki relived a very fine knife, which he kept on his person at all times. With the barest difficulty, Loki found he could blend in among them and doing so, discovered every inch of the city.

Loki explored his new life, seeking new opportunities and hiding places. He began to test his magic again, and found he could perform the simplest of trick again. Mischief followed soon afterwards – just little things, things that make him smile with glee but not gather any attention. He began to feel like his old self, but without the heavy weight of disproval from his false relatives.

The man upstairs was still watching him with interest, and he still distrusted the prying doctor. Loki kept his distance from them, hoping that his lack of interest would deter Sherlock from exposing him. Until the incident, he intended to leave Baker Street as soon as he could – Sherlock was interestingly clever, yes, but not enough, he thought, to keep his own interest.

The incident occurred two weeks after Loki came to London. He'd been lurking around some warehouses, observing the bustling human activity, when all hell broke loose. Men started shouting and running, though some paused to throw crates or other objects into the nearby stinking river. Loki watched with amused eyes, until he heard the wailing noise that accompanied the arrival of this planet's security force. He leapt down from his perch, thinking of running off before he himself was found, but the skinny man running towards him with a weapon suggested he'd already been spotted and wouldn't be able to get away that easily.

Loki knew guns, knew that they stung when they fired and were a mild inconvenience at best. He also knew this man really wanted to get away. And, oh, how terrible it would be for him if he were caught?

When the police finally arrived, Loki was seated comfortably on the groaning man's back. He smiled up at them charitably. It may be against his long-term interests to aid the local "good guys", but for the moment, it would be better to appear a helpful citizen rather than just another fleeing suspect. Sadly, he soon realized they were less than grateful, if the way they forcibly hauled him to his feet was any indication.

"Unhand me!" he snapped with a local inflection as they started groping him for hidden weapons. But he was pleased to note that they were giving the now swearing man on the ground the same treatment. As soon as they realized he was just a helpful bystander in all this he could be on his way.

"Sir, this one's armed!" Or, he would be if he hadn't forgotten about that knife in his pocket.

Loki was forced to his knees on the cold dirty ground as his arms were yanked roughly behind his back. He felt cold steel snap around his wrists. The cold 'click' sent a tremor of ner- anticipation down his spine. It was only metal, and could hardly restrain him, even in this mortal form. Loki tensed, ready to snap the metal and begin his escape.

"Wha—Phil?!" Loki's head snapped up at the unexpectedly familiar voice. Yes, it was indeed John, looking at him like he'd never seen him before. A bit further behind, there was the tall dark form of Sherlock Holmes. His face was more composed that John's, but Loki recognized the look on his face. It was the same one he woke to when he was ill on the couch. Sherlock was working something out, and Loki had a fair guess it would not bode well for him.

"Evening, John," Loki addressed his flatmate, as if there were nothing unusual about his being restrained. The man cuffing him paused. Loki stopped himself from quirking a brow or smiling. It seemed that whatever his flatmates did when they left for hours at a time was something that gave them tremendous influence. This was good. Sherlock began strolling over, and Loki hoped whatever the clever one was up to would be to his benefit.

Sherlock's eyes flicked from Loki to the violently swearing man being forcibly arrested, then back to Loki. Up went the eyebrow. "So, it worked?"

"Ah, yes. Yes, it worked." Loki couldn't have made it more convincing than if he knew what he was agreeing to. John glanced from one to the other, but kept silent. Loki guessed he didn't know precisely what was going on either.

"Let him go." Sherlock ordered the man who still gripped Loki's restrained arms. The man's noise of doubt earned him a glare from no less than two tall brunettes.

"Sherlock!" The pair turned their attention away from the visibly relieved man to face the one running up to them. Like John, he was dark-blonde, strongly built, and had the patient and long-suffering look of someone who dealt too much with Sherlock. Loki privately hoped he never ended up like that. The new man looked from Sherlock down to Loki, did a wild double take, and muttered, dismayed, "Oh my god! There's two of you!"

Loki frowned while John turned away, hiding his laugh behind his hand. Even Sherlock smiled a little. "Lestrade, this is our new flatmate…Phil. He's the one who stopped our criminal friend here." Lestrade eyed Loki. Loki returned the favor.

"You seem to have this bad habit of dragging other people into you messes, don't you?" Lestrade asked, with a definite air of long-suffering. He nodded at the nearly-forgotten policeman behind Loki, who finally undid Loki's restraints. Loki climbed gracefully to his feet – a talent he had perfected after a lifetime of being knocked down – and warily watched Sherlock, John, and the one called Lestrade. For the moment, the situation seemed to be arranging itself in his favor, but his suspicious side was not so easily persuaded.

While Sherlock and Lestrade turned away to discuss the situation, John made his way over to stand beside him. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly. Loki glared at him from the corner of his eye, but the doctor only seemed concerned for his health, for the moment.

"I am uninjured, if that's what you're asking." Loki said testily. John sighed and shook his head, and Loki suddenly wondered how many times Sherlock had said exactly what he had.

"Are you really though?" John's tone made Loki turn to look fully at him. The doctor was frowning, serious, and Loki knew he wasn't asking about his health. With a quick glance at Sherlock and Lestrade, John turned his body, in a way Loki recognized would prevent his lips from being read. "Look, I don't know why you were here, or what you're up to when you leave the flat, but if you do anything that hurts Sherlock, I swear, you will regret it."

Loki considered him with interest. This was just like how Sherlock had threatened him with. It seemed their loyalties went both ways, and he wondered how that came to be. What had drawn these two men, so very different, into each other's lives?

"You don't have to worry." Loki reassured him. If neither of them gave away his location, he wouldn't intentionally harm them, but he did wonder what they thought they could do to him to make him pay.

As the man Loki had toppled was put into a police vehicle, Sherlock turned from Lestrade and nodded at John and Loki. This was the cue, apparently, that they could be on their way. John enforced this by not only turning after Sherlock as he began walking away, but by placing a hand on Loki's arm and dragging him along. Loki allowed this, for the moment, to keep the cover set.

Once a suitable distance had been reached, Loki carefully removed his arm from the older soldier's grasp. A few quick steps brought him level with Sherlock, and John trotted forward to flank the tall detective's other side. Sherlock carefully adjusted his stride to match John's and Loki did similar, for lack of other options. The threesome carefully wove their way between flashing cars and muttering policemen until they were free of the crowd.

"Clever plan, that." Trust John to be the one who broke the silence. Loki knew Sherlock was probably lost in thought, and he himself would have preferred to keep silent in regards to the events of the last fifteen minutes. "Very convenient."

"Of course, John." Sherlock didn't seem bothered by his thought's interruption. "I knew Loki would be at this location. It was obvious."

Loki glanced sideways at him, staying silent. Across from Sherlock, John was obviously trying to catch his eye, but he ignored him in favor of glaring at Sherlock. He couldn't possibly known that Loki was there, there was no way he would have guessed. And yet, he had made up a suitable lie to cover his unexplained appearance. What was this man's plan? What else did he know?

Loki suddenly stopped in shock, as he realized exactly what else.

He never told Sherlock his true name.

~*~ Like I said earlier, school sucks, and this is my senior year. I have an ass-ton of assignments and papers to write, two different organizations I'm in, and maybe a job. Fanfiction, as much as I love it, is on the backburner. I'll write when I can, but don't expect anything for the next few weeks. My apologies.
Please leave reviews, they make me so very happy.