Chapter 12: Mischief and Science
A quick update due to popular demand :)
Although the next might come with a little more time in between. I have one of those future-determining exams coming up soon, so I will be studying my brains out!
Again, thank you for reading up until now. You guys have been supportive and wonderful!
"Heard you're looking for books." Pepper drops an impressive stack of paperback novels on the breakfast table, just as Steve swallows a mouthful of eggs.
"Thanks, Pepper." He returns a lop-sided grin and sets his fork down, shuffling curiously through the pile. "Loki likes Midgardian literature, imagine that—Pride and Prejudice. The Secret Garden. Peter Pan?" He cocks an inquisitive eyebrow, to which Pepper smiles kindly and knowingly.
"I love Fitzgerald and Hemingway as much as the next person, but maybe you should give Loki something happier to read too."
"Yeah." Steve laughs slightly as he turns over the worn pages of Rebecca. "Maybe."
"Steve, can you give him this too?" Dr. Selvig drops another book on top of the stack, and Steve cranes his neck to read the title on the binding.
"Darwin's On The Origin of Species?"
The professor shrugs. "Kind of curious to know what he think of it."
"Yeah, sure. Why not?" The soldier says noncommittally as he packs the books into his duffle bag. "Probably takes him five seconds to read a book, anyway."
"No, Tony, no!" Jane's scandalized shouting elevates in decibels, signifying her approach.
Selvig sucks in a breath before taking a sip of his coffee. "So it begins."
Tony walks into the kitchen nonchalantly with Jane following in suite, looking positively miffed. "Just because I need your help doesn't mean you can waltz in here and take over."
"Well, how else am I supposed to help?" Tony self-righteously inquiries, and Jane huffs in indignation.
"Oh, I don't know. Be a sensible, normal human being? This is still my project."
"Which I'm taking over."
"No, you're not. As brilliant as you are, Tony—"
"Why, thank you."
"—I have devoted my whole life to this research. I'm still more qualified than you!"
Bruce walks over with his toast and coffee and sits across the table from Steve, before switching on the news.
"Shouldn't you do something about that?" The solder makes a face, and the doctor shakes his head, eyes never leaving the television screen.
"No, thank you. Don't need the stress."
"Why do you even want to talk to Loki anyway?" Tony crosses his arms, brows furrowed and nose wrinkled like a petulant child.
"If it's about the Bifrost, then it's my field, my business." Jane stands her ground, equaling him in stubbornness.
"He's a mass murderer. He tried to kill you."
"Is that supposed to scare me?"
"You should be scared."
"Well, I'm not." Jane resolutely declares, "Because Steve's going to be there. Right Steve?" She raises her voice at the last two words, as if Steve sitting a few feet away couldn't hear her under normal conditions, and the soldier simply raises a hand in recognition.
"Yeah." Unfortunately.
A long pregnant silence ensues before Tony finally remarks into the void. "Fine, we'll just both go."
"Don't you think that's a little unnecessary?" Jane says with an air of condescension, to which the billionaire quickly counters.
"About as unnecessary as you and Bruce, and your late night radiation vigils."
"Okay, that was not unnecessary." Jane vehemently objects, following Tony out of the kitchen and into the hall, her voice reverberating even after the doors have closed behind them. "We gathered important data! We figured this all out!"
Steve sighs as he swings the strap of his bag across his shoulder, mentally preparing himself for the eventful, confrontational day ahead of him.
"You'll get through it, Steve," Selvig pats him on the back encouragingly, "Dr. Banner and I have been dealing with them everyday, and it's not so bad once you get used to it, right Bruce?"
"Yeah." Bruce says after swallowing his last bit of toast, eyes still glued to the morning news, "If you can think of a better threat than unleashing the Hulk, feel free to share."
###
Loki has been anticipating their arrival, standing before the transparent wall of the cell, calm and imperious, as his visitors descend the stairs. Tony and Jane approach the god together in equal fast-paced strides, as if even reaching the cell ahead of the other would warrant a victory in some unspoken competition. Steve follows them in suite, wishing he could warn Loki in some way, of this incoming train-wreck.
"Good morning, Loki," Tony greets coolly, to which the god nods in acknowledgement.
"Mr. Stark."
"Right, and I'm sure you know Dr. Foster," the inventor continues, "Thor's twinkie in the city."
Jane punches Tony on the arm, hard, her knuckles cracking from the impact. The billionaire swallows his protest down to a throaty whimper, which, although subdued, is still fairly pathetic.
"Not the most unified of teams, I see," Loki remarks just as Steve hides his face in his hands.
Steve soon finds the subsequent conversations convoluted and dull, but despite the multitude of scientific jargon and obscure theories, Loki seems to be holding his own in the exchange much better than any of them had anticipated. And he's not even from this planet, Steve thinks sourly, once again casting doubts on his own competency. But then again, Loki comes from an advanced alien race—regardless of the disparities in physics that govern their realms—and he is probably considered more capable than most of his own, so Steve shouldn't feel too bad.
He catches himself spending more time staring at Loki than actually listening to what is being said, which he honestly doesn't find strange until he reminds himself that he should. Loki looks like art—thin, and elegant, and pale like porcelain—and the darkness of his clothing only exaggerates his already defined features; the contrast is stunning. He looks frail, but Steve knows he can kill on whim. He acts subtly, but Steve knows he can be cruel. Loki is Silver-tongue, God of Lies—an enigma, a paradox, a demon in angelic guise, impossible like a ghost.
And Steve realizes he can't go on like this, when Loki catches him staring twice within the span of a minute. And the soldier doesn't even attempt to avert his eyes anymore, to hide the fact.
"I'm going to step out for lunch," he declares, "Anyone want to come?"
The only person who even pays him any attention is Loki, who spares a fleeting glance, but otherwise, the scientific debate continues. Steve emerges from the chamber feeling light-headed and jittery, and he agonizes over lunch by himself.
Loki.
Loki is the enemy—a criminal in several realms, a rightful prisoner in theirs. He has murdered innocent people in cold blood, allied himself with a tyrant bent on taking over Earth, over Asgard, maybe even the universe, who knows. He has shown complete disregard for the welfare of others, declared needless war against people who has never done him any harm, tried to kill his brother multiple times—despite whatever history they may have—even when Thor wants nothing more than to mend their tarnished bond. That has to count for...something?
Loki—Loki's insane, desperate for power, consumed by greed, driven by hate, and vengeance, and little else. He wanted an army to lead and a realm to rule, and was more than ready to obliterate freedom in the process. Since then, maybe he has finally come to his senses.
After all, he's not fighting anymore, obliging enough to return to Asgard and defend his former home against a greater threat. But does this mean he regrets siding with Thanos? Does he regret anything at all, or is simply adopting the necessary roles to ensure his own welfare? The fact that these questions still comes to mind brings harshly to light just how little Steve knows of the god. Even so, is regret even enough?
Loki is probably over a thousand years old, but sometimes, he can appear so profoundly young, hurt, and tired—just another unfortunate creature, mislead and mistreated by fate. He misses his mother—he has to—her portrait still tucked underneath his pillow even though neither he nor Steve mentions of it. How can someone embody the substance of a lost boy and an ancient god all at once, seamlessly?
This is not okay, on so many levels. They're different, in so many ways. What Steve is feeling right now undermines every single one of his principles. If this is some sort of a trick, it's a brilliantly subtle one. Steve doesn't even know at which point he had fallen.
Maybe it's because he's lonely. He hasn't been with anyone for nearly two years, not romantically, and certainly not on a satisfying emotional level. There was Peggy—a kiss, a blooming love, a lifetime ago—and now, as shockingly alarming as the idea might be, maybe Loki. And damn him for being so undeniably gorgeous, enticingly mysterious, tragically taboo—and it doesn't even matter that he's a man, although this confession is a lot easier to admit now than back then. But still, this doesn't mean anything, whatever Loki may be, because Steve doesn't want women, or men. He wanted Peggy, wanted her for so long, misses her more than she'd ever know. And now, maybe, maybe—but it's clearly not enough, both fortunately and regrettably, for Steve to throw everything he believes in away, just on some whim, some desperation, foolishness driven by lonely nights—
Next time, perhaps, when Clint or Tony goes out to a bar, he'll actually take them up on their offer.
But then again, Steve frowns, there is nothing wrong with wanting to live the rest of his life alone, enchanted by his memories of Peggy—the only woman, person—and the pedestal he had placed her upon long since.
###
"Tony, that's enough already!" Steve hears Jane shouting before he even reaches the automatic doors. He sighs as he taps his ID against the sensor.
"Last one, promise," Tony says once Steve descends the stairs. "But I'm making this one count."
"It will not work." Loki sounds woefully unimpressed, to which the inventor scoffs.
"Of course not, but that doesn't mean we won't learn anything. Now, don't move."
Steve hears the explosive whistle of a weapon going off followed by Jane's screaming, and he is sprinting down the stairs without a second thought. By the time he reaches the containment chamber, the entire cell is engulfed in white light. He sees Jane standing a few feet away and immediately runs to her side, but before he can even get a question out, the light vanishes to reveal both Tony and Loki intact, looking quite bewildered.
Tony has a machine attached to his arm, closely resembling a cannon, with smoke emerging from the barrel. Loki is sitting on the cot, his chained wrists extending away from his body, the enchanted metal glowing an eerie blue.
"What do you think you're doing?" Steve is surprised by the odd pitch in his voice, of how panicked and angry he sounds. "Why are you even—Get out of there, Tony!"
"What? Only you can come in here, and we can't?" The inventor makes a mockingly innocent face. "We saw the tapes."
Steve punches in the passcode by the entrance, controlling his rage just enough so he doesn't break the damn thing. He storms into the cell lividly, with every intention of dragging the billionaire out.
"But did you see that, Cap?" Tony has the nerve to appear entertained. "Those chains completely deflected the beam. Kind of like Wonder Woman bracelets."
"Wh—Are you insane?" The soldier gapes in sheer disbelief. "You could've—" Broken the chains, he thinks, freed Loki, killed yourself, killed him. He falters, unsure of which should take precedence.
"Relax, Captain," Loki waves a dismissive hand, just as the chains return to their usual silver sheen, "This is Odin's curse, powerful magic that can never be broken by such disgraceful, Midgardian toys." He ends the sentence with a sanctimonious sneer, and Tony rolls his eyes.
"Yeah, honestly, if that actually worked, I would've been disappointed."
And at that very moment, a loud resounding crack spears through the otherwise silent room, causing all three men inside the prison to look upwards. The glass ceiling soon splits into two, the lines and cracks patterning the transparent walls like spider webs, spreading at a remarkable rate until the whole cell crumbles under the disturbance. Steve immediately shields himself as broken glass rain down on him for the second time in a month.
He cautiously opens his eyes to inspect the damage once the chaos and dust have settled. Jane is still standing motionlessly outside, hands over her mouth in silent horror. Loki is brushing glass off of his shoulders and hair, appearing more peevish than hurt. Tony's expression is an odd mixture of amusement and guilt.
"Now that." The billionaire points a finger to the previously encased ceiling. "I'm disappointed in."
Guess who will need a new place to stay now? ;)
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