Chapter 16: Path to Asgard
Hi, sorry for the long-ish wait. I had some difficulties with this chapter, and it started being too long, so I had to cut it in half. Anyway, thank you all for the continued support. Please enjoy the next chapter! :)
At the break of dawn, Steve descends the steps to the cinderblock room only to find Loki's cell empty. After the initial wave of blood-curling panic had settled long enough for logic to dictate once more, Steve notices on the glass, a small yellow note with a message scrawled in hasty pen etchings. It read:
Borrowed Loki for science. Overseeing him responsibly. Can be found in the workshop NOT blowing stuff up.
-Tony
Steve makes a frustrated sound before sprinting back the way he came, his footsteps echoing thunderously against the bare cement. The morning—and even the night before—had been suspiciously peaceful, and Steve should have anticipated something like this. He just hopes he isn't too late to prevent anyone from being maimed or murdered yet.
Steve enters the lab through the automatic doors and finds the prospect before him rather strange. Loki is seated on one of the tall stools, eyes covered by a dark metallic device, its wires connecting to an even larger machine. Steve can only see the top of Tony's head beyond the metal and the tangled web of wires. Bruce is leaning against a workbench a few feet away, looking on with vague disapproval.
"What's going on here," Steve says. Loki, still blinded by the machine, angles his head slightly in the soldier's direction, not particularly surprised by his presence. Maybe he had heard Steve come in, and recognized him by the weight of his footsteps.
"Science," came the curt response from the man behind the machines, and Steve frowns, clearly discontented.
"What's the matter with you? You can't just take him."
"Why not? You do it all the time." Tony sticks his head above his invention, his eyebrows raised and lips pressed to a sardonic line. Steve would have found it infuriating if it weren't for his legendary control.
"That's because I have to," he says sternly, "But you—you specifically—should never take him out."
"Why not?" Tony scrunches his nose, lower lip protruding. "I'm being completely responsible. I even have the supervision of a responsible adult. Look, Bruce is right over there."
"You're not really helping your argument," the doctor laughs, shaking his head, "You probably have in here, the three most unstable people in the city. That is, before Steve came in, of course."
"Your Midgardian contraption is giving me a headache," Loki frowns thinly, reminding everyone that he is still here, and not particularly willing either, "What is it that I am supposed go see?"
"Well, in short," Tony says, wincing has a circuit fizzles under his touch, "Asgard."
For the rest of the morning, Steve stays in the lab and talks mostly to Bruce, as the doctor explains the progress of their work in layman's terms. It was difficult to ration the work with so many scientists in the lab, but they finally seemed to have an efficient system going. And progress had been record-breaking in the past couple of days.
In order to use the portal to their benefit, the first step is to understand it inside and out, and Jane's equipment is optimal for the necessary data collections. She and Dr. Selvig have been working at the site of the portal, measuring frequencies and working out algorithms before handing their conclusive work to Tony. And based on Jane's proposals and advice, Tony has been working the means to achieve their end goals, applying theory to real world.
Since the portal was left by a defective Bifrost, there may be several openings linked by the tear, depending on recent usage. Only one path will lead to Asgard, and tracing certain waves to their origin is one way to narrow down the possibilities. They've already identified a potential eave from the gamma measurements, but in order to reach a definite conclusion, they will need to send in a probe. Tony has designed it to work similarly to a sonar, emitting signals that bounce against physical obstacles. A detector would collect the reflected particles and trace the paths to form the original image, possibly of Asgard. And this is why Loki is needed, to verify if they have indeed found their way to the realm of the gods.
"That's quite something," Steve says, impressed at both ingeniousness of their work and Bruce's ability to describe such intricate work in a comprehensible manner. Why doesn't the doctor speak for the scientists more often?
"And it's not exactly easy, Cap," Tony quips in, "Considering the closest structures we can detect are at least 100 feet away from the portal opening."
"You speak as if it is my fault." Loki purses his lips, delicate fingers curling against the sense metal, as if tempted to yank it off.
"Well, considering if you left one statue, or a pole, or even railings intact when you destroyed the bridge, we wouldn't be having this problem." Tony frowns, his eyebrows furrowed in thought as he adjusts the display before him.
"It was Thor who destroyed the bridge," the god corrects with a hint of a sneer, "And there were no railings, or any of that sort, to begin with."
"How do you prevent people from falling off, then?"
"Who would be daft enough to fall off the Bifrost? Is that why Midgardian bridges have railings?"
For the remainder of the hour, Steve watches with faint amusement as the inventor and the god bicker like obstinate children, although their insults are half-hearted at best. The sight isn't as strange as it probably would have been a month ago, but Steve can still hardly grasp the concept of Loki on their side, working honestly and diligently. It prompts more wishful thinking that Steve would have liked.
He wants to give Loki the benefit of the doubt—it's in his nature to see the best in people—but sometimes, with the world at stake, he simply cannot afford to. Loki doesn't care about Earth, about the millions of innocent lives endangered simply by his presence. He only cares for himself, for freedom and redemption, his mother in Asgard, and perhaps, little else. For now, they share a similar goal—a common enemy. Thanos has once been Loki's ally, after all, and the Avengers his enemy. The god's loyalty is circumstantial at best, transient and whimsical like the wind.
"There," the god sharply states, "An arch."
"Wait, hold on." Tony ducks behind his machine and alters a few switches and wires. "What about now?"
"It is unmistakable." The god straightens in his seat, the device covering his eyes tilting slightly from the sudden shift in equilibrium. "The arch to the entrance of the bridge."
"You sure?"
"Yes, it is Asgard."
"Well then, this confirms it." Tony disentangles himself from the wires, lifting his fists in a gesture of victory. "Jarvis, contact Jane and tell her that she was right about the gamma signature. We found the path to Asgard."
"Right away, sir," came the monotonic voice of the artificial intelligence.
"That's great, Tony," Steve commends, and the inventor's lips curve into his characteristic grin.
"All in a day." He bows in a feigned gesture of humility, and as infuriating as Tony can be, Steve has to admit that infinitely lucky to have him—all of the scientists—who are, after all, the brightest minds mankind has to offer.
"Good work, reindeer games," Tony says, stepping over a few spare parts and loose wires to reach the god, before removing the device from Loki's head. "Couldn't have done it without you."
Tony drops his hand on the god's shoulder, almost encouragingly, but Loki delicately shrugs the lingering hand away.
###
Steve doesn't realize how much he enjoyed talking to Loki until their strangely domestic routine of living comes to an abrupt end. After realizing Loki's resourcefulness and willingness to help, the scientists begin to visit the god more and more often, and suddenly, the god's time and attention no longer belonged solely to Steve.
Despite their differences, Jane and Tony share at least one similar quirk, a certain moral ambiguity when it comes to science and discovery. It's difficult to explain, but Steve can only describe it as a flicker in the depth of their eyes—a hint of mania, almost—whenever Loki's words could promise answers to the mysteries of the universe.
Jane accepts the prospect of working with Loki with surprisingly little hesitation—considering his acts of terrorism only a year ago and his repeated attempts to murder Thor, and even her on one occasion. But despite these past grievances, Jane is civil, and poised, and strictly professional with Loki, the subject of Thor an unspoken taboo agreed upon by both parties. She doesn't quarrel or tease like Tony, but speaks with similar insistency. It's something Bruce and Dr. Selvig lack, the latter scientists more wary towards the god, choosing to step back while Jane and Tony do most of the prodding.
Loki still depends on Steve for food, at least—the scientists usually going their separate ways for meals, or opting to eat alone while they work, and never really considers Loki. Steve orders Mediterranean one night, and after dinner and cleaning up, he finds Loki watching him expectantly from the doors to the corridor, to be returned to his cell.
"You can sleep here if you want, in the guest room," Steve says, his words perhaps a little stiff, despite how well practiced they were in his head, "There's more space, and you don't have to sleep with the lights on."
Loki looks at him, confused—or at least as confused as he could appear without altering most of his facial features.
"I figured there's no point in bringing you back. You spend more time outside the cell than in. And considering the amount of time we were careless, you could have easily killed at least one of us, if you wanted to. So I fully believe that you are not here to kill us—now, at least."
Steve knows better than to jinx their luck, and the slight unsteadiness in his voice must have been obvious to the god, but it earns him a small smile, nonetheless.
"I'm not going to lock you in, or anything," the soldier continues, "But Jarvis will still surveillance you, like he does with everyone here. Is that alright?"
Loki nods, expression resolutely neutral, with the exception of his eyes, subtly betraying him with a faint flicker of doubt. He rests a tentative hand to the knob of the guestroom door, and looks at Steve for any last changes of heart.
"But, do me a favor though," Steve adds, deciding to take at least some precaution, "Don't leave the room until I come for you in the morning. Okay?"
"Yes," the god says without any further assessment, stepping inside and soon disappearing from view. "Goodnight, Captain,"
"Goodnight." Steve returns before maneuvering towards his own room, all the while contemplating the worst possible outcomes of his questionable decision.
###
Steve locks the door to his room instead, realizing almost immediately the flaws in his impulsive and fanciful thinking. Sure, letting Loki stay in an actual room is a nice gesture, especially after how helpful he had been to the scientists, but that doesn't mean the god is any less of a safety hazard. And now, a convicted war criminal is unlocked and unguarded, with only two thin walls separating him from Steve—who is soon about to be unconscious and vulnerable, along with the rest of the tower and the city beyond. This might very well be the worst decision Steve has made in his entire life.
"Jarvis?" He says after tossing and turning for at least fifteen minutes.
"Yes, Captain."
"Make sure Loki doesn't leave the room. And if he does, alert me at once. And only me."
"Should I secure the doors, sir?" The AI's tone sounds suspiciously reprimanding, although Steve chalks it up to his own guilt and paranoia.
"No, that's not necessary," Steve says, sliding his palm against his brows to ease a ghosting headache. "But can you shut down the elevators. Or at least, program is so no one can come to or leave my floor."
"Yes, right away, sir."
Steve has terrible sleep that night, plagued by epic dreams of cloud pillars and falling glass. He was scaling the Alps with the Howling Commandos when the Chitauri attacked. He fought alongside Bucky—back to back—as the metallic humanoids surround them. They last only a few minutes before Bucky is knocked off balance at the edge of the snowy cliff. Steve sees Bucky fall, his face contorted in fear and mouth agape in a silent scream. Steve lunges after his friend, and against all odds, is able to take a hold of his outstretched hand. But the moment they touch, Bucky transforms to Peggy, and they're dangling off the balcony of Stark Tower—the Chitauri soldiers the only consistent presence. Peggy parts her lips to speak, but the Hulk snatches them both before she gets chance and hurls them into the sky. They land in a bed—Steve's bed from his apartment in Soho—and Peggy is above him, clinging to the fabric of his shirt and trembling uncharacteristically. Steve threads his fingers into Peggy's hair, and realizes that it's longer than he remembered. He opens his eyes to see Loki merely inches away, and Steve leans in, wanting to kiss him. But Loki scrambles away, utterly terrified, and before Steve could fully comprehend how much that hurt, a bolt of lighting shatters his skylight, and Loki is engulfed. Once Steve blinks away the spots in his eyes, he realizes that he is no longer in his apartment, but a fluorescently lit room with white walls on four sides. He sees a woman nearby, sitting in a white chair—her back to Steve—and without even seeing her face, Steve somehow knows that she is the woman from the drawing. He calls to her, but she doesn't respond, so he grabs her shoulder and turns her around, and sees blood trickling from the corner of her eyes.
Steve wakes up to his own startled gasp, limbs flailing against ghosts. He lies sprawled in his bed for a minute after realizing where he is, and waits for the thumping of his heart to ease. The dream is fading in his memory already. Steve closes his eyes and forces his mind blank, feeling nothing but the cool night air against his damp skin. He was never one to delve into the subconscious, but that almost kiss with the dream Loki—before his presumed demise—doesn't escape his mind, no matter how hard he tries.
After another twenty minutes of mental over activity, Steve ventures into the kitchen for a glass of water. He doesn't even realize how parched he was until his first glass is completely empty. He fills another and savors until it's half full, and only then does he notice a faint glow of fluorescent light coming beneath his guest bedroom door.
Steve approaches the room without much thought and presses his palm against the door, hardly expecting it to open after the gentlest of pushes. He instinctively ducks as something is hurled towards the vicinity of his head—the alarm clock Pepper had bought along with the rest of the furniture in the room. Steve hears it shatter and break against the wall on the other side.
"Woah—there, easy," he quickly says, raising both hands. Loki is obviously awake. "I—sorry about barging in. The lights were on so I thought maybe you're awake and—I don't know why I didn't knock. I should have—"
Steve breaks off, brows pinching, as he realizes that something is definitely off. Loki's chest is heaving—shoulders taut and eyes ablaze—and he's not easing off, even after knowing it had just been Steve outside, being an idiot. The god is trying to school his features and is doing a surprisingly poor job, his Adam's apple quivering treacherously every time he swallows. His hands are clutching the bed sheets, knuckles boney white, and Steve dares to take a careful step inside, closing the door behind him.
"—Are you okay?"
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