A/N: In SHIELD, Captain America has a Level 8 clearance so I'm going to assume that, since Coulson's death/recovery is Level 7, Steve knows that Coulson is alive. And, out of respect for those who haven't seen Captain America: The Winter Soldier, I won't be including it in this story, except maybe mentioning it in passing just to fill in any plot holes.

EDIT: Due to someone pointing out that Loki's change in demeanour seemed rather abrupt, I have changed the ending of this chapter. It's still following the same idea, but the transition isn't as sudden.

Everything had been going according to plan so far. Steve was to go to the SHIELD HQ in Switzerland, as originally ordered, suit up, then fly to Norway. Only, he was meant to stall for as long as possible at the SHIELD base to try and give Thor and Sigyn enough time to get Loki and get out. Easy, right? Wrong.

Not only did the SHIELD agents there want to get to Norway as fast as possible, but they were also demanding to know why none of the Quinjets were working. (Because Steve certainly hadn't sabotaged any of them with a magical device given to him by an elf. Nope.) Steve patiently- (smugly)- waited in the hangar while they tried to find one that was the least would be proud, Steve thought with some amusement. (Proud, or disgusted with my complete disregard for technology.) Steve wasn't proud of what he had done, but his loyalty went to his comrades first- especially when shady, super-spy agencies were involved- (But there was a part of him that was secretly proud of what he had done).

"Captain Rogers, we have a working jet. Follow me, please, and we'll get up in the air a.s.a.p.," a female agent said, gesturing for him to follow.

(Damn it.)

He forced himself to appear nonchalant about the situation and followed the agent to the Quinjet.

Steve just hoped that Thor and Sigyn had enough time to get Loki out of Norway.

"The satellites show that he hasn't moved since arrival. He's still in the same place," Phil informed his team as they once more gathered around the table. He tapped at the screen on the surface, bringing up various images and recordings of the god that was currently in a field not far from where they had landed.

"Why do you think he's not, you know, blowing things up or anything?" Skye asked, frowning.

Raising his eyebrows slightly, Phil pulled up the recordings of Loki's magical outburst earlier and showed the team, taking in their varying expressions of shock.

"That's all him?" Fitz exclaimed, eyes wide.

"As far as we know, yes. Our job is to monitor him and contain him if he moves anywhere near civillisation," he said.

"But- if that's what he can do- wouldn't be be able to... do... weird, voodoo, alien things to us?" Skye questioned, seeming to grow increasingly concerned about their mission by the second.

Phil smiled, and he would be reluctant to admit that it was a slightly warmer smile than he usually gave people. "We'll be fine. The Avengers have been called in and should be arriving within the next two hours. We just have to ensure that Loki stays put for that long."

Sigyn pulled Thor through the human's 'airport' by the hand, having done this before in the past. All right, so it was about forty years in the past, but it was still the same idea. Passports, tickets, luggage and all that. Sigyn knew her way around mortal transportation. They had parted ways with Steve as soon as they got off the plane, not wanting to risk anyone seeing them together. Luckily for them, he had agreed to go along with their plan and should be working on stalling SHIELD for as long as possible.

"I trust you know the way?" Thor asked her in a low voice.

"I think I can find my own soulmate, don't you?" She retorted impatiently. She still was not happy that Thor had let Odin see Loki.

Thor wisely remained silent after that.

They went to a dark alley somewhere behind the airport, near where deliveries were made, and Sigyn said, "Right, now you'll have to fly. I can teleport there, but I can't take you as well. You need to head north. Just keep heading north. Do not stop until you see Loki. He should be in a field... Something tells me you will know it when you see it."

And with that, Sigyn disappeared with a flourish of her hand and a wisp of silver magic.

Bruce wasn't calm. He tried to be- he'd gone through breathing exercises, meditation, even taking a mild sleeping pill- but no matter what he did, he couldn't help thinking about what would happen when he got to Norway. He'd been doing so well- not a single episode since the Chitauri invasion- and now Fury expected him to just... just let the Hulk out and be okay with that. It wasn't okay. It really, really wasn't.

Of course, he'd lied and told Betty and Tony that it was fine because he didn't want to worry them- (Because he knew that, no matter how much he feigned nonchalance, Tony did worry. He had lost far too much in his lifetime to not worry about one of his friends, through Bruce knew he'd never say it.)- but Bruce would be having a little chat with Fury when he next saw the Director.

But he couldn't stand by and let people get hurt. He knew the Other Guy was dangerous, but he could also save lives. And that was why Bruce found himself at SHIELD's European HQ, waiting to board a Quinjet with Natasha and Clint. Apparently Steve was waiting on a Quinjet because all of the others had malfunctioned.

Bruce wearily rubbed his eyes. He'd been awake for over seventy-two hours, and the jet-lag certainly wouldn't help matters when he got back to America. He hoped this would be over soon. And, judging by the carefully guarded expressions of Clint and Natasha, so did they.

Loki had known he was being watched for a while now. He had half expected someone to try and arrest him by now, but he still remained undisturbed in the desolate field, staring up at the slowly lightening sky. He knew that when it happened, it would happen all at once- such was his luck.

He lay there, almost in peace, for several hours. The sun was just breaking over the mountains when that peace was destroyed, and the world started closing in around him.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on his surroundings.

He felt Sigyn's magic; potent and strong and always fitting in so well with his own. He felt the vibrations in the air of approaching aircrafts; heard their hum getting louder and louder; anticipated their weapons locking onto him. He sensed Thor approaching from the south, going faster than he ever had done before; Mjolnir practically sung in the sky as the wind rushed over it.

Loki weighed his options. If he went with the mortals, he would be incarcerated for violating the 'treaty' that had been formed between Midgard and Asgard, in which he was not allowed to step foot on the mortal realm. If he went with Sigyn, he would be going straight back to Odin- that in itself was out of the question. If he went with Thor, he would be taken straight to Asgard where he would have to face Sif, the Warriors Three, Odin and then then thousand years in a prison cell.

Either way, Loki would lose.

He hated feeling so... so helpless. ("Weak, pathetic, worthless; no wonder neither of your fathers wanted you." "No- you're wrong..." A deep snarl that made Loki flinch , chains rattling. "Say it again, runt. You are powerless against me.") He opened his eyes and glared at the sky, clawing his hands into the overturned dirt. (No. Never again. I will not let that happen to me again.)

But now he was on Midgard, surely one of Thanos' agents had noticed and alerted the Titan. He would be found. And Loki knew what would happen when they got him. (You think you know pain? He will make you long for something as sweet as pain!) He could not let himself be found. If- (When)- they found him, he would be helpless- (Powerless- weak- weak- weak-).

And so, in a rare moment of clarity in his exhausted mind, Loki resolved that he would do everything in his power to remain free. (Freedom is life's greatest lie.) He pushed himself to his feet and straightened himself.

He would not go with the mortals.

He would not go with Sigyn.

He would not go with Thor.

He would not be taken against his will again.

He readied his magic, a small smile- a ghost of his past self- on his face.

(Just let them try and take me.)