Chapter 8: Something Important
Whew, hopefully future chapters would be easier to write. Maybe a little warning for Fury being a doucebag, but he's a doucebag with a cause.
Anyway, enjoy~
Steve considers himself a creature of habit. He wakes up every morning at 7am sharp, before going on his morning run. He takes exactly ten minutes in the shower, two minutes brushing his teeth, and is in the kitchen for breakfast by 8:30. He likes his eggs sunny-side up and his coffee black, and he spends half an hour reading the news before figuring out his tasks for the day.
He catches a glimpse of Pepper—the only other person awake in the tower—just as he steps out. The four scientists had opted to labor into the small hours of the night, and Steve doubts any of them will emerge from their beds before noon. Hopefully, this means that Tony is finally tolerable enough to work with, although the faint yelling and crashing of things the soldier had heard before falling asleep last night suggested otherwise.
Steve arrives at the base at 9:30 and descends the stairs to Loki's cell within the next five minutes. By now, Loki has already eaten and showered and is (if Steve is lucky) well rested and content enough to speak with him. While Steve knows better than to expect smiles or pleasantries, he could hardly have anticipated the look of utter contempt on the god's face—an expression the soldier has never been unfortunate enough to experience personally.
"Is this all some kind of ruse to you?"
"What?" Steve manages.
"Pathetic lot," the god all but spits, lips pressed in a depreciating sneer, "Even I had expected better of you, to at least realize when presented with nothing short of a gift. If Thanos does not destroy your pitiful race by the end, I swear I will make it my personal mission to scorch your cities to the ground."
"Hold on, I doubt you're in any position to threaten us—" Steve begins but soon realizes that it was probably the wrong thing to say, because Loki rises from his cot and is approaching the soldier, slowly and menacingly. Steve reminds himself that there is a glass wall between them, but it hardly soothes his racing heart.
"By the end of three weeks, Thanos will send his army," Loki's voice echoes in a dangerous tenor, dark shadows defining his already sharp features, "The Chitauri tear through the portal to your world, and you will not have the energy from the Tesseract to close it this time. Thanos will come for me, but he will not kill me. He might even rid me of this minor inconvenience—" The god wrings the chains around his wrists for emphasis "—Unlike you and your wretched, worthless planet, to Thanos, I am not expendable."
"What are you getting at?" Steve wavers, unsure of how to react to the god's sudden outburst. While the threats to Earth are worrying enough, something about Loki seems off, as if he sounds too punishing to be sincere.
"Do not think," the god snarls, features twisting, "that bargaining is even an option, that handing me over in a box with ribbons will spare you any consequences. I will have you know that Thanos—"
"Wait, what?" Steve gestures for the god to slow down so he can wrap his mind around the information properly, "Why would you think that?"
"Because," Loki grits his teeth, exhaling deeply as if Steve's ignorance is wasting away at his last modicum of patience, "Thanos can crush your pathetic excuse of a—"
"No, I meant, what makes you think we'd hand you over to Thanos?"
Loki blinks. "Because you are pathetically outmatched, and you fear for the safety of your world."
"That may be true," Steve says calmly, "But we'd already talked about this. We're doing everything we can to return you to Asgard as soon as possible."
Loki stares back at him indignantly, mouth slightly agape with lingering skepticism on his tongue, so Steve speaks again before the god could retort.
"We have a deal, remember?" He tries to sound reassuring. "The only person we'd hand you over to is Thor. We're going to get you home."
"Asgard is not my home," the god mutters begrudgingly, and the soldier is quick to make amends.
"I know. I'm sorry. And Thor is not your brother. But he's the only one who can take you from here. We won't allow it any other way."
Loki doesn't respond, looks pensively at Steve instead. "Where were you yesterday?" he finally says just as Steve was beginning to feel self-conscious.
"We had a little team building event, so I couldn't come." The soldier then wonders whether an apology would sound too ridiculous. Would Loki even care that Steve skips out on a day of interrogation, of all things? It's not like their daily get-togethers are something either of them to looks forward to, is it?
"Has a new team been assembled then, if a team building event was needed?" Loki raises an elegant eyebrow—less angry, and more intrigued—which should make Steve feel less twitchy if it weren't for the fact that Loki is still a dangerous villain who can read him like a book.
"Yes, with what we're dealing with now, a different team is needed."
"And I'm assuming you only recruit the best."
"You can say that."
Loki's lips curve into a wry smile. "Some of Thor's friends then."
Steve doesn't say anything, but his silence appears to only confirm Loki's deductions.
"Just curious." The god waves a flippant hand, perhaps sensing the soldier's apprehension. "I bear no grudges, although I only speak for myself. Inform me if I could be of any assistance."
They talk more, about Thanos and the army, but Steve still feels as if something is off. Loki is being more cautious with his responses, speaking less and thinking more, and assesses Steve constantly with those dark, heavy blue-green eyes. It makes Steve feel all the more uncomfortable, and he has no idea why. He thought they had reached a point where they could converse—maybe not amicably—but at least securely and professionally. He wants to ask Loki if something was the matter, but the more he thinks about it, the less of an argument he can come up with. Eventually, he decides to put the conversation on hold. It's a quarter to noon, and they've been talking for nearly two hours.
"Will you be back tomorrow?" Loki asks suddenly, which takes the soldier off guard.
"Yeah, I will," Steve says, "I'll inform you next time if something else comes up," he decides to add in response to a nagging guilt.
"That is not necessary," the god dismisses him, blank-faced and nonchalant, "Have a good day, Captain."
###
Steve eats lunch at a café by himself, all the while thinking about Loki. He still has no clue to what could have triggered that strange outburst, because the last time they spoke, they were certainly on the same wavelength. So why would the god suddenly accuse Steve of betraying him? Is this what happens when you leave Loki alone for a day, that he just assumes the worst of everyone when he is given too much time to think? Still, that doesn't explain the god's reserved demeanor afterwards, how his anger had dissipated but not his skepticism. Something must have happened yesterday in Steve's absence, and with that thought, the soldier rushes out of the café without even waiting for his change.
"How long will it take you to infiltrate one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s security cameras?" Steve asks as enters the lab, just as Tony completes a circuit loop, leading to some spectacular sparks and smoke.
"Well, that was worth a shot," The inventor sighs as the machine before him sizzles in defeat. "A security cameras you say? 20 minutes give or take. Why?"
"I need yesterday's footage from Loki's cell."
"Afraid he's two-timing you or something?" Tony cackles at his own joke, and Steve honestly does not have time for this.
"Just do this for me, please? It's important for my assignment."
"Must be if you're breaking rules," Tony rolls his eyes as he wipes his hands clean of machine oil, "Fine, since you're asking so nicely."
The scientist extracts the video in no time at all and hands the file to Steve in a flash drive. "I trust you know how to watch this on a computer. Jarvis can help you if you run into trouble."
"Right, thanks," the soldier is already sprinting pass the automatic doors, "I owe you one!"
Steve plays the video on the laptop he almost never uses. He watches Loki through his morning routine—waking up, eating, being taken to the showers and then returned—until the god is seated on his cot, looking somewhat expectant for Steve to descend down the stairs. An hour passes by, and Loki is still waiting, taking furtive glances in the general direction of the doors. And it makes Steve feel unbelievably guilty, as if he had stood Loki up, which is absurd because it wasn't like they were meeting on their own accordance. Loki is a prisoner, and Steve is assigned to him. Whether the soldier shows up or not to an interrogation, Loki would be sitting in that cell regardless.
By noon, Loki must have given up and made himself more comfortable, long legs sprawled out on the cot as he leans against a few pillows. Steve feels a twinge of sympathy as he watches the god count the minutes away with nothing to do to pass his time. Eventually, the god slides a hand under his pillow to retrieve a neatly folded piece of paper—the portrait of that woman Steve had given him two days ago. Loki smooths out the drawing with delicate fingers, his expression softening as a few strands of dark wavy hair falls to his face.
Before Steve can even properly define is own reaction to what he'd just seen, the moment is abruptly ruined as heavy footsteps echo from the stairs. Loki jolts and quickly shoves the paper under his pillow before he is greeted by his unexpected visitors.
Fury enters the cell with six armed guards, and Steve immediately feels scandalized because the director had thoroughly reprimanded him for doing the same two days ago.
"Captain Rogers sends his regards." Fury says ominously as he and his guards crowed around their prisoner.
Loki stands, holding himself tall and imperious. "I do not wish to speak with you."
"Would you prefer Captain Rogers?" Fury drawls, and Steve hates—hates the way the director is saying his name, taunting.
"Yes."
"He's busy until tomorrow."
"Then I will speak with him tomorrow."
Steve watches horrified as Fury leads the interrogation. He threatens Loki, accuses him of lying, accuses him of using Steve, which the soldier finds appalling and counter-intuitive because wasn't it the director's idea for Steve to gain Loki's trust in the first place? So that maybe the god will take advantage of him and reveal something he's not supposed to? Of course, that notion had long escaped Steve until now. After listening to the god for the past couple of days, Steve honestly believes that Loki is not secretly plotting their demise. But presently, Fury appears to be destroying all that the soldier had managed to build.
"I have already told you everything." Loki scowls, features twisting in insult and exasperation.
"Everything?" Fury raises his brows, unconvinced.
"Everything you have asked for."
"And how much of it is the truth?"
"Whether you believe me or not is out of my hands and my concern." Loki's voice is icy and venomous, and Steve wishes he could stop the video and purge this confrontation from ever happening.
"I can make it your concern." Fury grins "If what you're saying is true, and you're the only one Thanos is after, what's stopping us from simply handing you over?"
Loki laughs in disbelief, and its an eerie sound, bitter and grating. "You are a fool to think that Thanos would consider such wretched species to be on bargaining terms."
"We defeated the Chitauri once," the director says easily, "And the last time I checked, where you end up is none of our concern."
"Oh, I can make it your concern." The god threatens, and Steve can hardly resist the urge to throw the laptop against the wall. This is like watching a train-wreck in slow motion.
It goes on for at least another hour—fruitless, meaningless threats being thrown back and forth—and Steve swears to himself that he's never leaving Loki alone again, no matter how obstinate Tony gets with the other scientists. He's positive Bruce could handle them on his own.
"Oh, what do we have here?" The odd inflection in Fury's tone catches the soldier's attention.
The director reaches for a piece of paper sticking out from underneath the pillows. Loki closes his hand around Fury's wrist in an iron grasp, and six guns are promptly pointed at the god's head. Loki and Fury stare each other down in a silent stalemate before the prisoner finally withdraws.
"Who is she?" Fury says as he unfolds the paper. He must've known that Steve had given the portrait to Loki. The director had reviewed all of his interrogations up to date.
"Does not matter," Loki says firmly, body tense like bow strings.
"Then, neither of us would be needing it." Fury crushes the paper in his hands, and Loki doesn't even flinch. The director and his guards leave the cell without saying another word.
Steve stops the video, doesn't know where to even begin to process how angry, and frustrated, and guilty he feels. This would explain everything—why Loki had been positively livid earlier today, why he had accused Steve of betraying him, why he had been reserved and wary even after Steve ensured him otherwise. At least the god never fully directed his anger towards Steve, which hopefully means there is still something left to salvage.
Steve thinks of the way Loki had willed himself throughout the whole ordeal—barely flinching or raising his voice—as if he's used to others treating him this way, used to everything being taken away from him.
Steve doesn't return to base to confront for Fury. He searches his desk for some blank paper instead, and tries to recreate the portrait of that woman. He sets his pencil down and tries to ignore how much his hands are shaking.
###
He visits Loki again in the afternoon, and the god straightens himself on his cot immediately, mildly surprised at the unexpected visit. The soldier types in the passcode and enters the cell without saying a word, until he is standing before the seated god, who is doing very little to hide his bewilderment.
"I saw what happened yesterday with Director Fury," Steve exhales through his nose, "Through the surveillance."
"You did." Loki returns to his usual mask.
Steve swallows, feeling his mouth going dry. Maybe he should have planned this out better before approaching the god. "I want to apologize—"
"For what?" Loki interjects, voice light and flippant. "I am a prisoner here, and yesterday was merely…standard procedure."
"No, it's not." Although it probably is, Steve thinks as he mulls over his words, "That was rude and unnecessary—and he shouldn't have done that no matter what the circumstances—" He winces at how inept and inarticulate he must sound, and decides it's probably more advantageous to get to the point. "Just—here—" He takes out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket.
"What is the meaning of this?" Loki furrows his brows, making no gesture of acceptance.
"I tried," Steve says, unfolding the new portrait, "I don't remember what she looks like exactly, but we can fix it now, if you want."
A pregnant pause falls between them, thick and awkward, before the god finally responds.
"Does this humor you?" Loki frowns in cool, controlled indignation. "I do not need any of these trivial things. The least, your pity." The last word comes out bitter and biting, and Steve thinks there must be a story behind it, somewhere.
"No, this isn't pity," Steve amends, lips moving faster than his brain can process, "I'm just shocked—and angry—because it was not okay for him to do that—you're mine—mine—"
"I'm yours?" The god grins in faint amusement, and Steve feels every ounce of his blood rushing to his face and neck.
"Mine to deal with," he corrects himself, "My assignment. And I gave this to you, and the Director, he had no right to take it away."
Loki furrows his brows, and Steve wonders what the god must be thinking. He seems like the kind to think way too much, always assessing, always careful—and Steve desperately wants some sort of reassurance that he's on the right track at least.
"Why are you doing this?" Loki finally says, open and searching, and guarded and vulnerable all at the same time.
"Because I don't want you to think that we're all like this. Most of us—most of the time—are decent people," Steve sighs, suddenly feeling exhausted, "I know you don't expect much of us, but this is something important. To me at least."
Loki's expression is dubious, and Steve doesn't exactly know how to interpret it. He probably already sounds like a bumbling idiot, so what else does he have to lose.
"She's obviously important to you," Steve adds to his on growing list of sentiment, "And we can fix it. You don't have to tell me who she is."
Loki lifts a hand to stop him from talking, and the soldier abides. The god shifts to the end of the cot to make space for the soldier to sit, and Steve accepts the invitation with little hesitation.
"Is my opinion of your race that important?" Loki asks as Steve settles next to him, pencil and sketchbook in hand.
"Can't blame a guy for trying." He shrugs, thinking that Loki must believe him. The soldier is incapable of lying, and surely, the God of Mischief and Lies would be well aware of that. They sit together in silence, and Steve waits patiently until Loki is ready. The god appears to be deep in thought, and Steve feels that interrupting him now would be one of the few mistakes he can still readily make.
"She's my mother." Loki finally says, and Steve nods. They don't mention it again for the rest of the afternoon.
Hope you have enjoyed a long-ish, fluffy-ish chapter.
Please drop a comment, and until next time!