Lyanne sat in the hard chair in the holding cell, shaking and still sobbing. Just that morning she and Loki had discussed their plans to infiltrate SHIELD and gather information - what had made him turn so violently on her? Her attempts to deal with his mood swings had not prepared her in any way for his sudden and horrifying change of heart. She clutched her chest, aching far worse at this point than the wound in her neck, leaning forward and weeping onto her lap.

"You reap what you sow," said a familiar, chilling voice to her left. Lyanne sniffled, wiping her eyes.

"Bite me, bitch," she spat.

Amora laughed in the cell next to hers - humorless, cold. Lyanne shivered - her treatment at the hands of SHIELD this time around was not as hospitable as it had been before. But, she figured, there was no reason it should be. Lyanne was an accomplice to the war criminal Loki, and a traitor. She considered herself lucky she was still alive.

"I'd gladly comply, dear, but I'm afraid we're both quite solidly locked up." The Enchantress let out another mirthless chuckle.

Lyanne laughed bitterly, squirming in the hard chair, which, apart from a thin cot and a toilet and sink, was the only decoration contained in the room. Her cell was still better than Amora's, however - Amora was chained utterly and completely, not even able to move her hands. Lyanne did not like to think about the fact that there was no toilet or bed in her accommodations, merely a drain in the center of the floor and a showerhead attached to the ceiling directly over it.

"Well, you're right," Lyanne finally admitted. "I certainly did get what was coming to me. I should've known better than to trust Loki, I guess."

"No, trusting Loki was actually quite brilliant - but you went about it the wrong way."

"Huh?"

"You trusted that he wouldn't hurt you, that he would keep whatever foolish promises he had whispered lustily into your ear - but instead, you should merely have trusted him to do exactly what he always does."

"Which is…?"

"Take care of himself."

Lyanne snorted, glaring at the wall that separated them. She could not see Amora's face, but she knew that the Enchantress was not simply torturing her. She was right - Loki could only be trusted to care about himself, and Lyanne had been foolish enough to believe his lies and promises to the contrary. He had used her. She immediately felt a surge of varying emotions - love, hurt, pain, anger, sadness, self-pity, guilt, shame. She curled into the fetal position on the chair to deal with it, but her roiling stomach could not be calmed and she wept once more for herself, for Loki, for the damage she had done. Suddenly, the loud slam of the door to the prison chambers echoed throughout, and the familiar heavy footsteps of Nick Fury came to rest outside her cell, followed by a guard, Tony Stark, and Thor. Fury snapped his fingers, the thick metal bars opened, and he stepped in, taking the keys, the two Avengers following closely behind. The bars slammed shut behind them and the guard walked out, giving them privacy, save for Amora's curious ears.

"Miss Brooks," said Fury quietly, gesturing to her with his head, his baldness shining in the dim light of the prison cell.

"Director Fury," she croaked. He knelt down in front of her, which was surprising - she thought for sure he would tower above her, intimidating, threatening. This was an odd approach, and it made Lyanne wary.

"Lyanne," he started in a low tone, "I'm going to level with you."

She looked into his good eye as best she could, but found she could not stand his gaze and looked back towards the floor. He continued.

"You know what position you're in. You're an enemy of the United States Government, an enemy of SHIELD, and an enemy of the Avengers. You will not receive special treatment for being a former Agent. In fact, I'm sure everyone will see to it you receive the worst kind of treatment. Traitors deserve no less. I can't offer you protection, I can't offer you absolution." He paused, standing back up and breathing heavily. "But I can offer you this - help us, and we might - might - look the other way if you try to escape. After Loki is taken into custody, of course. And that comes with your promise that you will never be seen from, or heard from, ever again. Not by us. Do we have an understanding?"

She was breathing quickly, her heart pounding. But I still love him, she thought.

He obviously didn't feel the same way, her brain countered.

I can't betray him.

You betrayed the Avengers.

I don't want to see him get hurt.

Even though he hurt you?

What if he's killed?

What if he's not and he comes back for you?

I'd rather die than see him killed.

You'll get what you wish for.

Lyanne looked back at Fury, shaking her head violently, dissenting to his request and clearing her thoughts at the same time.

"I won't," she said, harshness in her voice. "Keep me locked up, torture me, starve me - it won't work. I can't help you."

"He tried to slit your throat!" Tony suddenly screamed. "What part of that don't you understand? He doesn't care about you, don't care about him!"

"I'm not doing it for him," she said. "But I try to keep my betrayals to only once a month."

He must have lunged at her because in an instant Thor was holding Tony back, pushing him towards the door, muttering for him to calm down.

"Do not let her unnerve you," Thor demanded. "It's what they want, I'm sure."

"They?" asked Fury.

"I'm sure Loki and Lyanne have worked this out together - why else would she be willing to still protect him?"

"She's deluded enough…" started Tony, but Thor interrupted him.

"No, don't call her that. This is not Lyanne's fault, it's Loki's. I should know my brother better than any - her actions were his work." He turned to her, trying to bring a small smile to his face despite his true inner feelings of rage and disgust. "Right, Lyanne? You wouldn't agree to cause potential deaths or harm to other people. I know you - you wouldn't do this."

Lyanne suddenly began to chuckle - it amazed her. She felt no real humor in the situation and was, in fact, very frightened, but she couldn't stop herself. The chuckle became a girlish giggle and eventually a full on laugh. She had to talk to them in between fits of it.

"The good cop, bad cop routine?" she mocked. "Of all the things," she muttered, running a hand through her hair. She heard Amora laughing in the cell next to hers and it suddenly hit her that it sounded almost identical to her own. This sent Lyanne into another fit of laughter, and with the two women's humorless giggles echoing throughout the hall loudly, it became too much to bear and the three of them began to leave. Fury stopped short before he exited and turned back to Lyanne.

"You might want to reconfigure your priorities, Miss Brooks. Next time I may not be so merciful."

Lyanne grinned wickedly and waggled her fingers in an overly-friendly flourish of a goodbye. Fury merely shook his head and left, the two women's laughter following him out for a long time.