Chapter 9: Heroes and Villains
I originally had 17-18 chapters planned for the fic, so I guess this would mark the half-way point.
Hooray! Celebration! Enjoy!
"Dr. Foster, how am I supposed to eat when your papers are scattered everywhere?" Tony irritably taps his barefoot against the wooden floor, clad in only a a t-shirt and pajama bottoms.
"Please don't make me move now, Tony. I'm so close to figuring this out." Jane looks as if she hasn't slept for days, her hair a disheveled mess below her Culver University hoodie. She had decided to bring her work to the common area during the night, and by now, her charts and diagrams are practically engulfing her whole. The billionaire, however, shows little sympathy to his fellow scientist.
"Let Jane be and eat breakfast with the rest of us, Tony." Pepper does the necessary peacemaking as she settles herself beside Steve and Dr. Selvig at the kitchen island. "I'll make coffee the way you like it."
"No," Tony snaps, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed. "A man should be able to eat wherever he wants, especially in his tower."
Jane makes a high-pitched sound of pained frustration. "Really? Is eating at this table that important to you?"
"You're breaking my morning routine."
"You're not awake early enough to have morning routines." Bruce walks through the automatic doors, yawning and scratching at his stubble. "Most of the times, at least."
"Surprised to see you up too." Tony spins around on his heels to face the doctor. "Heard you guys had a little science party without me."
"You mean last night when we stayed up past two detecting gamma fluctuations from the portal?" Bruce deadpans. "Yeah, one hell of a party."
"We did asked you if you were interested," Jane says, running a hand through her knotted hair, "But you said, quote unquote, 'I refuse to waste time on something a first-year lab intern can do.'"
"Exactly!" Tony points an accusing finger at both of them, "Does it really take two—let alone three—people to stare at a beeping monitor? You guys just wanted to get together and say bad things about me behind my back."
Bruce closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, before turning to the female scientist. "Did you stay up all night, Jane?"
"I wasn't planning on it, but then, this idea hit me." Jane shuffles though a stack of papers. "It's not exactly the same, but the radiation signature would suggest—"
"Hello?" Tony throws his hands up, clearly insulted. "Don't pretend I don't exist when you're living in my tower, eating my food."
"That's kind of adorable, in a way." Pepper—meanwhile at the island—smiles into her mug, her voice low enough for only Steve and Selvig to hear. "Tony, he's like a little kindergartner sometimes."
Steve couldn't help but smile at that, because during this brief moment, Pepper looked absolutely smitten, even though Tony was being nothing short of obnoxious and awful. It must be nice to be so much in love, Steve muses, to love someone wholly and unconditionally, and to have the feelings returned.
Dr. Selvig beside him shakes his head. "You are a strange woman, Ms. Potts."
###
"Is this something I should simply anticipate from now on?" Loki greets the soldier, a hint of a smirk on his lips, "People just barging in."
"The walls are transparent." Steve says as he steps through the automatic doors. "It's not like I'm invading your privacy by not knocking."
Eight days have passed since Loki crashed back to Earth, and if the god's estimations were correct, thirteen days, counting today, still remain until a visit from the Chitauri. Steve is starting to feel restless, being able to contribute so little compared to the rest of the team, at least until—God forbid—the army actually comes. But the soldier knows better than to rush the scientists, who are dealing with theories and technologies way above his level of comprehension. So Steve thinks it's best to channels all of his excess energy to the mysteries within his grasp—although not necessarily less convoluted than astrophysics. One would be the God of Mischief inside the glass prison, watching him expectedly. And, two would be the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D, whom Steve can't seem to find no matter how many people he asks. He decides that the latter should take priority, since he and Fury share—at least supposedly—the same purpose. And this is a matter of trust. How is Steve supposed to follow orders when they barely make any sense to him?
"What do you have there?" Loki tilts his head, eyeing the bulky duffle bag by Steve's side.
"Something you might appreciate." The soldier unzips the bag and empties the contents to a vacant spot on the cot.
"Books?"
"In case you get bored."
Steve had managed to salvage a few books before his apartment was entirely quarantined by S.H.I.E.L.D. His shelves consisted of mostly old novels from his time, writers after the Great War—the "Lost Generation," as they were later called. But there are also some published during the 70 years he had spent in the ice, and others written thousands of years before, philosophy and myths. He decided to cast the net wide so that Loki can decide for himself which eras he prefer, if he prefers any.
"Fiction, mostly outdated." Steve explains, as he picks up The Sun Also Rises. Mortals, with their transient lives and evolving ideologies, must appear ceaselessly dynamic to gods, so Steve wouldn't want Loki to believe everything he reads. "These are old books. We've changed since every one of them, in a lot of ways probably."
"Oh?" Loki runs an elegant finger along the binding of Tender Is the Night. "How so?"
"I'm probably not the best person to ask," Steve shrugs, "Still seeing for myself."
Loki picks up a book—a collection of Shakespeare's plays—and opens to the first page. "Midgardian literature," he says simply, "Is this one of your ploys, Captain, to elevate my opinion of your lot?"
"No," Steve can honestly say, "These novels, they almost never show our finest moments, but they are what they are."
"Then, why are you showing me these?" Loki sounds unamused and slightly impatient, and the soldier is quick to elaborate.
"I like them, at least," he says, feeling less confident about his decision, "You don't have to read them if you don't like them."
Loki watches Steve pensively before pressing his lips together in a thin smile. "I assume you will be busy today."
"What?"
"Which is why you have brought something for me to entertain myself with." There is no real venom in his voice, but Steve can sense a flicker of irritation because this gesture can still be interpreted as an act of pity—which Steve swears it isn't—although, common decency to the soldier might very be the same as pity to the god.
"Do you mind?" Steve eventually says.
"Not at all." Loki flips through a few pages, paying no heed. "Why should I?"
Neither of them speak for ten lengthy seconds, so the soldier adds, feeling pressured. "I need to speak with the Director today."
"You do?" The god hums noncommittally.
"I have questions for him. He's been doing things that don't make any sense—to me at least—and I need to know why."
"Do you honestly not know?" Lok's eyes darts to his, contemplative and judging, and the soldier feels a whole rush of unexplained trepidations—guilt, paranoia, doubt—suddenly at once.
"No? Why would I?" He swallows, wondering if the god is being accusing, or maybe simply more insightful than he is. "Do you?"
Loki watches him for a moment, head tilted and brows pinched in that sad, musing way he always does when he thinks. "No," he says finally, "Thank you for the books, Captain."
Even if Loki were lying, Steve can't tell.
###
In the end, Fury approaches Steve, more so voluntarily than the soldier actually managing to find him. They go to a small conference room in one of the more obscure wings of the base, probably to accommodate for the inevitable shouting. The Director appears composed and ready as they walk down the corridor and into the room, and Steve realizes that his grievances must already be well anticipated.
"You purposely sent me away that day, didn't you?" The soldier says calmly, trying to maintain a civil atmosphere for at least the beginning of their conversation. "So you could lead the interrogation. Why?"
"I just wanted to remind Loki of his alternatives," Fury responds simply, arms behind his back as if this meeting were casual. "How fortunate he is to have you instead."
"That was unnecessary."
"Was it?"
"You wanted me to gain his trust, to have him talking." Steve feels his anger rising. "And we were doing fine. He was telling us everything—"
"Everything?" The director challenges, and Steve quickly amends, trying all the while to stay focused on his necessary rage.
"Enough. He was telling us enough."
Fury looks at him unimpressed.
"Loki warned us of an incoming attack," Steve continues, "He has been cooperative. He wants to return to Asgard, which is something we would've set out to do regardless of what he said. And he hasn't shown any signs of being a threat or tried to escape. So why did you feel the need to intervene with my assignment? If you wanted me to do something differently, we could've talked it over and—"
"What exactly is Loki?" The director suddenly says, his words well-measured and practiced. "The God of Mischief? Silver-tongue? Prince of Asgard?"
"Yes?" Steve furrows his brows, failing to see the point of the apparent tangent.
"A prince." Fury repeats, tone clipped. "A spoiled prince who probably has never been rightfully punished for any of his crimes. Just like Thor."
This catches Steve off guard. He opens his mouth to respond, but his words are quickly lost to the confusing turns of this conversation. The director continues before the soldier has a chance to collect his thoughts.
"As you may or may not be aware of, Thor had previously damaged Asgardian relations with Jötunheim in his wayward attempt to murder the Frost Giant king."
"I—Okay, sure." Steve knew about Thor's banishment as a result of his reckless arrogance, but he had no idea that it had been an assassination attempt. These details were always glazed over during briefings, and even Jane—whether she knew or not—never explicitly explained what Thor had done that was so terrible. The soldier wonders whether he should have thought of these questions earlier.
"And what had been his punishment?" The director continues. "A few days on Earth without his powers?"
"Thor redeemed himself by protecting his friends." Steve recalls Jane's accounts in that diner two days ago, of Thors sacrifice in her point of view. "He stood up for them and died for them. He earned his right to return."
"He also destroyed a small town in New Mexico in the process." Fury says flatly, "He was never punished for that."
Steve unwillingly falls silent, remembering Loki's role in that incident, which doesn't help his argument at all, or his overactive conscience.
"They are careless people," the Director continues, "They drag innocent lives into their fights, and they will never learn."
"But you don't have a problem with Thor." The soldier states, reminding himself that this is about Loki and not his golden brother. "At least, not anymore."
"Thor's part of us now," Fury grins, as if to show that everything is obvious and easy, and Steve is the only one not understanding."He swore to protect the Earth and fight alongside our heroes. And he's simple enough for me to take his word."
"So you want to recruit Loki?" Steve casts his doubts, and the Director has the audacity to laugh.
"Of course not. Loki's too smart—too dangerous to be trusted. At least as an enemy, we'd know what to expect."
"Then what do you want from him?" The soldier exhales a stuttering breath, growing increasingly more irritated with the director's failure to get to the point. "We're not here to discuss Thor or the appropriateness of the Asgardian justice system." Because god knows what a can of worms that can turn out to be. "Answer my questions before I honestly start to assume the worst."
Fury looks at the soldier gravely, as if he has been biting the bullet until now. "We need someone who can get through to Loki," he eventually says, "Now, and in the future, if needed."
"So when you told me to gain his trust," Steve shakes his head in disbelief, "What you really wanted was for this—whatever it is between him and me—to be a permanent, ongoing—"
"Loki will be back someday," Fury says frankly, "And it might be best for us—for the safety of millions of innocent people—that he has at least one fond memory of Earth."
"So you tricked me into making friends with him?"
"Do you mind?"
"Of course, I mind!" Steve slams his hand against the table, the loud crack resonating in the otherwise silent room. The Director, however, doesn't even blink.
"Why?" Fury extends his arms plainly to gesture he meant no harm. "I'm playing the villain here, and you're still the hero. And that is what Loki will remember you as."
"You honestly think that this is going to work? With Loki?" Steve says darkly, feeling himself slipping into the rage and the sheer nonsense of it all. "He probably sees right through you. What the hell are you even thinking?"
"Maybe, he won't be fooled by me," the Director all but shrugs, "But at the very least, he believes you. Your earnest apologies, that heartfelt speech about how he's your assignment, and that drawing—of his mother, was it? There's no need to worry, Captain. Nothing appears more truthful than the truth itself."
Steve swallows the urge to laugh at the absolute irony of it all. He has been fooled, manipulated, used by an agency that's supposed to be the preservers of peace and the enforcers of justice. They were supposed to be the good in the world, and Steve wonders whether he should've expected better.
"You could've just asked." The soldier finally says, feeling as though the ground has been pulled from underneath him. "You didn't have to keep me in the dark too."
"It wouldn't have been as convincing. What's genius about this is that you're probably the last person Loki would expect to pull a stunt like this, let alone a successful one."
"So why are you even telling me now?" Steve steadies his breath, cool rage in his veins numbing and crushing at the same time. "Wouldn't it have worked better if I kept on believing that he's some poor, unfortunate thing terrorized by the big-bad military espionage organization?"
"Except that he's not," Fury explains a little too calmly, "Loki is still a power-hungry, psychopathic killer. Only he's supposed to fall for it in the end, not you. We still need you, Captain, to fight for what is right."
Steve doesn't respond, doesn't yell or laugh or throw a chair out the window (as much as he is tempted). He feels the Director's eyes boring into him as he leaves, and he makes sure that the door slams behind him once he steps out.
Thanks for reading until now. Please drop a comment if you liked it or have suggestions and what not. Until next time!