Notes:In which Annie's parents have their say. In the series, Annie's mother appears once, in season 2, and she seems to know or suspect something. In the context of the show, she might at that point have been told something, but for purposes of this story we're going with, "she and Annie's father had their suspicions." We depart a little from the details of canon but not the overall sense. I haven't found out where Annie lived before she and Owen came to Bristol, but since the actress who plays her uses her own accent I've gone with London.
Warning: For discussions of past domestic violence (and Major Character Death, I guess- although, since she's been dead since we've met her, it probably doesn't count.)
Chapter Eight
When Loki was badly startled, he sometimes likened the feeling to missing a step in the dark.
On this occasion, the feeling was more like that of missing the step and then tumbling awkwardly down the entire staircase. To land, with a fractured skull, on the tile floor below.
"Wh- what?" he managed, not even embarrassed by the tremulous gasp that was all he could produce. It was nearly the same breathless little sound he had uttered in the weapons vault, when his father confirmed his most terrible fears were true.
This was worse. If this was what he thought it was, this was far, far worse.
Annie's mother did not flinch as she repeated, "Are you the reason he killed her?"
"Carmen," Annie's father said softly, a word of comfort rather than rebuke, but his swift glance at Loki held no accusation.
"I do not… What do you mean?" Loki looked from Annie's mother to Annie's father. He was genuinely stunned, almost stupid with the shock- he had not liked Owen, had found him "creepy," but he had not expected this- but he had presence of mind enough to look around, apparently vacantly, as though he had also been blinded by it.
He was not blinded, but when his eyes fell on her Annie looked as though she was: pale and wide-eyed, not aware of Loki at all as she stared at her mother. He did not dare let his gaze linger on her, turning back to Annie's parents with who-knew-what expression of blank horror on his own face.
Annie's father looked at Loki with what appeared to be compassion- an emotion that was entirely unwarranted, if they really suspected him of being, of being the reason…
"Carmen," Annie's father repeated gently, addressing his wife, "it isn't his fault. Even if he really was- "
"What are you saying?" Loki asked. He heard the shrill, demanding note that crept into his voice and struggled to master it. "You believe Owen- ?"
"He was jealous," said Annie's mother. "Controlling. She said… she said she was all right, she said that he loved her. And maybe he did, in his way, but… she watched him. The way you watch someone you're not sure of, someone you think might turn on you any minute. She stopped speaking up when he was around, as if it would annoy him to hear her. She started wearing long sleeves. Always. And she... was sad, when she thought no one was looking at her."
The gray sweater, with its sleeves that came nearly to her fingertips. Her self-deprecation, her desperately polite efforts to fend off that foolish, mostly harmless young soldier at the tavern in Asgard, as though she was afraid to tell him to leave her alone…
Annie was gentle and polite and tried to hide instead of standing up for herself- and that was because standing up for herself had led to her being… to her being harmed. Why had he not seen? Why had no one seen?
It made little sense for a brief acquaintance of Annie's to be nearly weeping as he faced her parents again, but Loki's eyes were filling with tears and he had not the strength to hide them.
"He would hurt her?" he asked. Annie's mother raised a hand, and he shied back instinctively. If she touched him, she would be able to see Annie, and that could not but make matters worse. And besides, he did not want her comfort, not when she was the one who needed it, she and her husband.
And their daughter.
Especially their daughter. Why had they not been able to protect her? Was no one ever able to protect their children?
The thought was unfair, and he knew it to be unfair: these were only mortals, with lives just a little longer than that of the daughter they mourned. It was ridiculous to expect them to wield more power than the Allfather himself.
But still, they must not touch him, and he did not want them to.
"I'm sorry," Annie's mother said, her expression more distressed than ever, and Loki suddenly realized she believed that he believed she would strike him. "Max is right, it's not your fault, even if Owen thought- "
Loki shook his head, heart pounding. "He did not. He could not have- " And then he choked down the rising feeling of illogical, panicky remorse: of course Loki had nothing to do with whatever Owen had done. That had happened three years ago, when Loki had been fully preoccupied with his own descent into jealousy, madness, and evil. Whatever he had been doing, he had not been harming Annie, nor had he been goading anyone else to harm her. The fault was not his, and still less was it Annie's.
He took an awkward step backward, as though turning away from her parents' words, and caught Annie's eye. What should I ask them? What would you have me say?
"Do they have any proof?" Annie asked, her faint voice echoing her faint hope. "Are they sure he really did it?"
"Are you sure?" Loki obediently parroted, despite the sick feeling growing in his stomach, the feeling that told him this was true, it had happened, it all fit together.
"Nothing we could take to the police," Annie's father admitted. "We spoke to a very sympathetic officer- "
"Mr. Herrick," Annie's mother supplied, and so distressed was Loki that it took him a moment to remember the name of the murderous vampire captain, whose mortal disguise had been as an officer of the law. "There was nothing… Owen said he went to the grocery store after work, and he had a bag of shopping to prove it. Nobody at the store could remember exactly when he was there, but he was new to the neighbourhood, and store clerks don't remember strangers the way they do the regulars."
Loki swallowed, thinking of the friendly girls who chatted with him as they rang up his purchases. If Owen had not gone away after Annie's… after Annie's murder, would he have replaced her with one of them, and served that girl the same way? Had he done so elsewhere, to some young woman whose ghost Annie would never meet?
"It was nearly winter," Annie's father went on. "It got dark early. She was… she had been dead for a while when he called for help. She could have fallen hours before Owen got home, if he was telling the truth."
"He wasn't telling the truth," Annie's mother insisted, and her husband nodded.
"And there was nothing you could do?" Loki asked softly, one hand reaching back aimlessly as though he did not know what he was doing. Annie's fingers closed around it, feeling even colder than they usually were.
"We had no proof. Not even that he abused her," Annie's father said. "I'm sure he was careful to let one lot of bruises fade before he gave her any more."
"And it wouldn't have always been hitting," Annie's mother said. "Even before they left London, I used to wonder sometimes, about his 'jokes', the ways he would 'tease' her."
Just a bit of fun. Loki felt ill.
"They moved here, far enough away that we couldn't come see her very often," Annie's mother said. "I'd call and she wouldn't call back. Maybe he wouldn't let her. She didn't know anyone here, didn't have anyone to ask for help."
"She was isolated," said Loki. Like prey.
"Yes," said Annie's father.
"They were supposed to be married," said Annie's mother. "They were planning their wedding. Her sister was going to be matron of honour, they were picking out the dress. Annie honestly seemed to be happy and excited, when I spoke to her. Either she had gotten very good at pretending, or she only called when he was being sweet- because he could be very sweet, I'm sure that was part of the problem, she kept hoping she could find a way to keep him like that- or… maybe she thought things would get better after they were married, that he would be sure of her, or something, and he wouldn't need to… control her so much."
Loki let his fingers curl more tightly around Annie's, felt her move closer to him. Owen would never have been sure of her. Not unless he, too, had fallen through a void with a healing spell following him. Or unless he realized he was wrong, was at fault, and took steps, as some wise mortals did, to find healing for himself.
But why would he do so, when in his eyes the fault was surely Annie's? If she would only behave exactly as he wished, then he would not need to…
It took a considerable effort of will for Loki to avoid being physically sick, and he was very glad indeed they had not brought any lunch to the ruin.
"And then one day something must have happened that he took as an excuse to go too far," Annie's mother said. "Whether he meant to kill her or not, he pushed her. Or maybe she was trying to get away from him, and she fell. I know it."
Glancing sideways, Loki saw the stunned expression on Annie's face begin to fade, and then change, as though something was coming into focus, as though she was remembering something. Loki wondered if this was what his own face had been like, when he looked down at his arm in the grasp of the Jotun and saw blue suffusing his skin.
The difference was, he had only believed his discovery to be monstrous. It had not been monstrous, only... surprising. Upsetting, yes, but not as much as he had thought it to be, and not because there was anything inherently horrible about it.
What Annie was remembering really was monstrous.
"And the worst if it is, she couldn't tell us," Annie's mother wailed, grief overwhelming her self-control so her voice did not so much break as shatter. "Why couldn't she tell us? Did she think we wouldn't care? Why couldn't she trust us?"
I am your mother, and I was unable even to teach you to trust me. What is wrong with me?
Behind him, Loki did not hear so much as feel Annie gasp, and then she blurted,
"It's not your fault. It was mine… It was mine- "
"It was not your fault," Loki repeated, for Annie. And then- also for Annie- he clarified, "It was not your fault, it was Owen's. He committed the crimes, and the fault is his. Not Annie's, for loving him, or yours, for not knowing what to do. His."
"But this wasn't the first time… " Annie's mother wailed. "Not the abuse, but she used to… All her old boyfriends, they were all- "
"It's true," Annie whispered, behind him. "It's true, I did this to myself, I- "
There was a sort of rustle behind him, the cold fingers let go of his, and Annie was gone. Loki restrained himself from throwing himself after her. She would be going home, and he must… He would follow her, and try to comfort her, but first he must finish this, do what he could for her parents.
"They were all in need of rescue, were they not?" he asked, suddenly sure it was true. Annie had told him of Owen, at least of the gilt-edged and mendacious memories she had taken to her afterlife, but she had not spoken of any other young man before him. After he realized that Midgardian social rituals suggested there must have been others before Owen, Loki had wondered why she had not done so. Was it because they were not important to her? Or was it that, after it became clear Loki had no similar memories to share with her, she had not wanted to remind him he was an outcast and always had been?
But there had been other young men, other boys, and they would have needed to be rescued, as he had needed to be rescued. Only, sometimes, when one rescues strays, one gets bitten.
"Yes," said Annie's father. "They were all troubled, and Annie would take them in, and it always ended badly. She always got hurt. And I never understood why she did that. Did she think she had to prove she was worth loving? Did she think she didn't deserve any better?"
"She deserved a prince," Annie's mother murmured.
"She deserved better than that," Loki murmured back. And then he said, "I, too… I was also in need of kindness when I met Annie. And she was kind to me. Genuinely kind, and I have always been grateful to her and have never forgotten it. Her compassion was not a flaw, and the fact it was taken advantage of was not her fault." He hesitated. "And I do not believe she would blame you, for not knowing why she felt such a need to come to their rescue. There are things we cannot know about the ones we love, because they do not always know, themselves. You cannot blame yourself for not knowing things Annie might not have recognized, either."
Annie's mother raised a hand to her eyes, wiped the tears that had finally started to slide down her cheeks. "We shouldn't be burdening you with all this. I'm sorry. We just… you're the first person we've met in Bristol who was really Annie's friend. Everyone else they knew was Owen's friend first."
"And so they were loyal to Owen first," Loki nodded. "Yes. I know how that is. I was Annie's friend, and I wish I had been there for her when she needed help. I cannot tell you how sorry I am. Is there anything I can do for you, anything at all?"
Annie's father shook his head. Annie's mother said bleakly,
"There isn't anything anyone can do for us."
~oOo~
The cemetery was large, with several stands of shady trees. At this time of year, of course, the trees were mostly bare. Still, they provided some cover. Loki bid farewell to Annie's parents, embracing her mother because she seemed to need it (trying not to reflect that, while he really did have Annie's best interests at heart, her parents seemed entirely too quick to assume as much of him. It was not hard to see where Annie had learned to be too trusting) and then retreated down the footpath.
When there was no one else in sight, Loki ducked into one of the groves of trees, took a deep breath, and metaphorically reached out for Yggdrasil.
He emerged in Heimdall's Observatory. The Guardian was not inclined to show surprise under any circumstances, but Loki was peripherally aware that he badly startled the Warriors Three when he materialized in their midst.
"Norns, Loki, where did you come from?" Fandral demanded, stumbling sideways as Loki appeared at his elbow.
"You've missed your brother again- he and your father are in Alfheim," Volstagg boomed cheerfully. "We've just come back from there. You would be proud of Thor, he has been leading the negotiations with- "
"Peace, Volstagg," Hogun spoke up suddenly. "Loki, what is wrong?"
Fandral had already fallen silent, and the Warriors Three stared at Loki with expressions he could not read. Loki wondered what his own face looked like, was suddenly conscious he was breathing harshly and wringing his hands together.
They probably thought he had done something dreadful. He half-expected a rush back to Alfheim, to see whether he had killed his brother again.
There was not time to explain, or at least Loki could not make himself spit it all out right now. He wanted to go home, but before he did so he must make sure… had to know, without any doubt…
"Heimdall," he said, distantly aware his voice was trembling, "I have come to ask a favour of you. Please."
Heimdall's expression was impassive. "Ask."
"I would know- " Too autocratic. He was not king, nor usurper, nor yet a bully like Owen. Loki took a painful breath and tried again. "I would like to know, please, what happened on the last night of my friend Annie's life. Can you… look?"
"Annie?" echoed Fandral. "Wait, what are you talking about, Loki?"
Loki ignored the question, clenched his jaw and met Heimdall's golden gaze levelly. The Guardian's great voice rumbled out,
"If you would know of your friend's life, it is best that you ask her."
"I intend to," Loki replied, his voice tight. "But I fear she… Annie sometimes takes blame that is not hers, tells herself she is at fault when she is not. I know this is not the case, but I would like to be able to tell her, with certainty, that it is not. I need your help, Heimdall. Please, will you look?" Not very long ago, Loki would have been unable to imagine pleading with Heimdall for anything. For Annie, it was not so difficult.
Heimdall might have sighed. "There is no need," he said. "I have already done so." Loki must have looked startled, because the Guardian explained, "You were… changed… when you first returned to Asgard. I was curious about these friends of yours, especially her. I wanted to know…" He hesitated. "You are wondering how she died?"
"Yes," Loki whispered, and someone put a hand on his shoulder. He did not look around but it was heavy, like Volstagg's.
"And you fear there was treachery?"
"Yes."
The great voice was almost kind as it said, "There was."
"Owen," Loki said. "He pushed her."
Heimdall paused, as though remembering. "He nearly threw her."
"Why?" It was a stupid question, really. The thing was done. Why wonder why?
"I do not know," Heimdall admitted. "I could not hear, since they had not invoked me. But I could see. He was holding something, a piece of cloth, and shouting, and when she tried to retreat he caught her at the top of the staircase and… And she fell, and she died."
Loki almost thought the impassive Guardian sounded sorry. Loki had never heard Heimdall sound like this, as though he would give much to be able to change what had happened, or make himself able to un-see it.
"Who is Owen?" Fandral asked, from behind Loki's left shoulder. "Wait, is he not- did you not speak of him only the other day? The man Annie was to marry, before her death?" Without turning to face him, Loki nodded. "And he killed her?" Fandral demanded, shock and revulsion in his voice.
"Yes," Loki managed. "She did not remember until now."
The hand resting on his shoulder tightened, pulled him around, and Loki found himself, glassy-eyed, gazing up into the face of Volstagg.
"What do you intend to do?" the big warrior asked, with a combination of sternness and understanding. So must he speak to his children when they needed it. Loki blinked, opened his mouth, and then closed it. He did not know what he was going to do. He had not thought that far ahead. He had no idea, except that Owen deserved anything, anything-
"He is going to find this Owen and kill him," Hogun spoke up flatly.
"Hogun, that is enough," Fandral snapped, sounding rather desperate, the way Fandral sometimes did when tensions seemed ready to overwhelm the group. Loki had never before thought Fandral might be trying to help him at such a time, but at the moment that seemed to be the case. "Loki has not made any threats toward anyone- " yet "- and you should not accuse him- "
"Accuse him?" Hogun countered. "I was about to offer to help him." At this point the only one not gaping was Heimdall. Hogun looked around at his friends and demanded, "What? Is it not a despicable act, to murder one so harmless, and who trusted him?" Loki flinched, and without even looking at him Hogun added, "Whatever you did to Thor, he was at least not exactly helpless, and- if his version of events is to be believed- you were hardly rational enough to spell your own name when you did it." Loki rather thought the madness had come later, but he chose not to argue as Hogun went on, "Was this Owen insane? And, is he sorry?"
"As far as I can tell, no," Loki admitted. "And no."
"Well, then," Hogun shrugged. "It would be no more than justice."
It was probably fortunate Hogun actually used the word "justice," because the sound of it snapped Loki out of what might have turned into a really dangerous mental spiral. The word reminded him of Steve Rogers, and Loki was quite sure Steve would not approve of any such course of conduct.
No more did Fandral or Volstagg (which might bear thinking about, later.) The big warrior's hand felt heavier than ever on Loki's shoulder, he actually nearly buckled under its weight, as Volstagg said firmly,
"I am quite sure it would be considered 'murder' rather than 'justice,' and it is best that Loki have no part of it. He came here looking for answers, not an excuse to commit what his new realm would see as a crime."
Which was true- and an improvement, really, over the time he went looking for answers, and found the excuse as well.
Loki pulled free from Volstagg and dragged his hands back through his hair. The blind rage had faded, and despite the pounding of his heart he felt a little steadier as he said,
"And now that I have my answer, I need to see what I can do for Annie. Thank you, Heimdall." He hesitated. "Thank you all."
And he stepped back out onto the World Tree.
~oOo~
It was quite dark when Loki, under a concealing glamour, slipped between worlds and back onto his street. There was no one out walking, and so Loki let go of the glamour- gradually, so anyone who chanced to look out a window would be unable to tell when he actually came into view- and half-jogged to the pink house on the corner.
He was on the front step, reaching for the doorknob, when the door suddenly opened inward and badly startled him. His apparently-looming presence startled the young woman in the doorway as well: she let out a shriek and stepped hastily backward.
"I beg your pardon," Loki said, flustered, as he backed away from the door. What in the Nine Realms was a strange mortal- at least he thought she was mortal- woman doing in their house? And why did she look familiar?
"Sorry, Loki," George called from inside the entryway. A moment later he came into view shrugging into his coat. "I was just going to walk Nina to meet her bus. Nina, you remember my housemate Loki, don't you?"
Loki managed to smile, which was more than Nina did. He now recalled her from the hospital, the day Thor had gone wandering in kitten form. Possibly she remembered Loki as well, as the man who did not take proper care of his pets, because she gave him a rather severe look as she passed him.
"It is very nice to meet you again," Loki ventured, which was a lie. He was in no condition to take pleasure in the meeting even if Nina had not looked as though she would happily disembowel him.
"Nice to see you, too," Nina replied rather gruffly, sounding like a tiny blond fluffy-haired Sif. A Sif who had not yet become friends with Loki, and never intended to. If he had not been so distressed already he might have let himself worry about that. As it was, it took a rather inspired effort of deceit to maintain a polite social veneer. It crossed his mind to wonder how often his mother had made a similar effort at times when she might have preferred to scream or throw things.
George came hastily out of the house, and Loki slipped past him through the door. Mitchell was in the kitchen doorway, the kittens peering from behind his legs, all three of them wide-eyed.
"I can't help it, she scares the pants off me," Mitchell hissed as Loki closed the door behind himself. "I guess she and George went out for something to eat after work and then they arrived here and she keeps glaring at me and I know I shouldn't be scared of her but- Where's Annie?"
Loki felt a cold jolt through his belly. "Is she not here?"
"She was with you!" Mitchell argued.
"I know that!" Loki snapped, and then he remembered that Mitchell was not aware of… everything. He took a breath- not a deep one, he seemed incapable of taking a deep one- and explained, "We went to look at her grave. We- I- encountered her parents, and Annie remembered… how she died."
"She fell on the stairs," Mitchell said, suddenly hesitant.
"She was pushed." Thrown. "By Owen. And she left me at the cemetery, and disappeared. I assumed she had come home."
"The door to her room is closed," Mitchell said. "Maybe she's in there." Loki started to turn away and Mitchell caught him by the arm. "You're sure about this?"
"Her parents are sure," Loki replied. "And I am quite sure she now remembers."
"Shit," Mitchell murmured, raking a hand back through his hair. "Oh, shit."
"That is one way to put it," Loki said, and headed for the stairs. Halfway there, he glanced back. "I am sorry, that was unfeeling. I am just… "
Mitchell flapped his hands. "Go. She needs you."
Loki needed no further urging.
At the top of the stairs he paused, looking at Annie's door. The housemates were scrupulous about respecting each other's privacy, and generally did not enter each other's rooms except by invitation or for specific purposes, such as dropping off folded laundry. Since Annie did not sleep, her room seemed even more her haven, and Loki avoided disturbing her peace there.
Now, he was struck with anxiety that his presence would be unwelcome, that she wanted only to be let alone, or wanted only her father and mother, who were lost to her. And what could he say that would not make things worse?
On the other hand… how many times had he hidden himself away behind a locked and bespelled door, and yet wished that someone would know he needed comfort and come looking for him? There was no logic in placing protective wards on his rooms and still wanting someone- his parents, his brother, his long-lost nursemaid Hildr- to magically sense his distress and seek him out. Loki had always known it was a contradiction. He had wanted it anyway.
And one night, after George had been badly injured by vampires, when all of them were thinking about George's injuries and the fate that had almost befallen him… Annie had still come looking for Loki, to ensure he was all right. Loki had not been hurt, only upset and frightened, but she had sought him out and reassured him.
Loki stepped forward.
"Annie?" There was no answer, so he tapped gently on the door with his fingertips. "Please, Annie, let me come in." Still no reply. Loki leaned his forehead against the door and laid his left hand flat against the wooden panel. "Please let me know you are there."
Ordinarily, Loki could sense the nearby presence of another creature, especially any of his friends. Ordinarily, he did not need to ask whether Annie was in a room. But he felt nothing, and between that and the silence he should have thought Annie was not there. No matter how upset she was, Annie did not ignore people calling to her. He should therefore have assumed she was not in her room, but he did not. And that was what frightened him.
He bit his lip and hoped what he was about to do was not the wrong thing, the disrespectful or hurtful thing.
Then he said quietly, "I am coming in," and turned the doorknob.
Annie's bedroom was the largest in the house, the one she had occupied in life, when she and Owen had lived here. There was a fireplace, and a comfortable armchair in addition to the bed and chest of drawers. It was a cozy haven that felt like Annie.
Ordinarily.
As the door opened, Loki was conscious of a feeling of cold permeating the room. The only illumination was from a streetlight, through the window. Loki slipped inside, closed the door gently behind himself, then stood waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dimness.
After a moment he could perceive Annie lying on her bed, back to the door, in a miserable defensive curl. As Loki walked toward her he had the terrifying impression that he could actually see the flowered pattern of the duvet right through her.
She gave no sign of being aware of his presence, and he did not like to speak again lest she think he was hounding her. Instead, he walked softly over to sit on the edge of the bed. After a long silence, Annie spoke.
"I had bought some fancy underwear. I hid it in my chest of drawers. I wanted it to be a surprise for him, I thought he'd… And he found it. He was so angry, he thought I must be, there must be someone else. I couldn't make him listen, he kept shouting at me. We were at the top of the stairs, and he-" She broke off. There was no need to say what had happened next.
"I am so sorry," Loki said finally.
"You didn't do anything," Annie said dully. That was not what he meant, and she probably knew it.
"I know," he whispered. "But no more did you."
"I let him into my life," Annie whispered back. "All of them. I let all of them- I did this to myself."
"You did not." The last thing she needed was for him to argue with her, as though her own words and perceptions could not be real or true. Loki could not think of anything else to do, so he leaned over, took off his shoes, then lay down beside her, mimicking the angles of her body with his own. When first he came to Bristol, Loki had needed to concentrate to perceive Annie as a physical presence. He no longer needed to do so.
Ordinarily. Now, as he tried to huddle closer to her, Loki had the disconcerting impression she was somehow… fading. He did not know whether ghosts could simply cease to exist without crossing over, but he had the desperate urge to clutch at her, hold onto her.
"Annie." She would be sick to death of the sound of her own name, but he could think of no better way to try to focus her attention on him. "Listen to me, Annie. He wanted you to think that, wanted you to think you needed him and could do nothing for yourself. I do not know why he would do such a thing to you, but you need to know, to believe, that he was wrong." Annie did not respond, and Loki slithered an arm underneath her, wrapped them both around her. It was like holding an armful of smoke.
Loki tried not to think about that, went on speaking. "Owen's opinion counts for nothing. He is a pitiful little creature." And who would know better? "You, on the other hand, have many friends who love and value you. George and Mitchell and I would not know what to do without you. I went to Asgard just now, to speak to Heimdall, and Hogun was ready to come here at once and help me slay Owen for what he did to you. Even Agent Coulson likes and values you. You are loved, Annie, and you deserve to be loved.
"You are also courageous- were you not the scout for the Avengers, when they rescued all those prisoners from the clutches of Hydra? And it was you who befriended Helblindi, convinced him to trust the intentions of your companions. Remember how Thor asked you to accompany him to speak to Helblindi and Byleistr, to explain the situation and ask their help? He did so because Thor understands the importance of trust, and he knew you held theirs."
"Helblindi knew his people needed help," Annie objected. "That's why he and Byleistr agreed to work with the Avengers."
"That is true, but you are the reason he trusted them," Loki insisted. "Do you remember what Steve said, when he told his story in Asgard? How sure he was that Helblindi stepped in to aid him with the Red Skull because Steve was your friend? Yes, the Jotun would have assisted Asgard, in the hope of having their casket returned to them. I have no doubt they would have provided troops and fought bravely. But for the nearest advisor to the king to personally step in to assist a human? He did that for you, for your friend. You, who assisted the healers with the Jotun wounded, reassuring them among strangers. Annie, there was no one else to fill that role, and its importance to the alliance cannot be underestimated."
There was a long silence. Loki tried to feel the shape of Annie in his arms, thinking, Please, please stay with us, and trying to imagine what else he might say.
Annie was the one who spoke.
"Trust- I keep trusting the wrong people. I'm so stupid."
Loki sighed. "Well, now that you say it… it probably was not the wisest response, faced with a stranger in outlandish clothes who fell from the sky and landed on your roof, to invite him into your home and make him a sandwich."
"Don't," Annie mumbled.
"Don't what? I have been trying to conquer my own self-centredness, but now it must be said: if you were not here, if you were not the one who found me, my story on this world would have been very different."
"Your father made sure you'd get help," Annie said. Loki did not like to argue with Annie, but the fact she was arguing had to be a hopeful sign. He thought- surely it was not his imagination- he could feel her curls tickling against his nose, and that was even more hopeful. Annie went on, "That was the second spell, remember? That the first creatures you met would be able to help you."
"If I was able to let them," Loki reminded her. "Father's spell ensured I did not land anywhere I would come to harm, and probably also that I would not fall among any who wished harm on anyone else, either. But it did not take away my free will. The point of the spell was to put me into a situation in which I would be offered succor, but to leave it up to me whether I would accept it."
"Loki, the state you were in- " Annie protested.
"I know, I know, you would think I would have run to anyone who offered me sympathy. And perhaps I really would have. But what would have happened afterward? Imagine if I had been found by kindly humans, with their fears and their prejudices as well as their good qualities. I would in all probability still be hiding my Jotun origins, and probably also my magic, in an effort to blend in and not frighten anyone. I would have hidden, and lied, and might never have learned the lesson that Jotun is not monstrous simply by dint of size and form. I had to learn that from beings like George and Mitchell, and I never would have done so if you had not been there when I crashed into your dustbins.
"And suppose it had not been ordinary humans who found me? Suppose I had landed in the hands of Steve Rogers, or the other Avengers? I, who had done those vicious and contemptible things to the Jotun, to my family? I might have learned to try to do good, to try to make amends for my crimes, but I cannot help believing I would have incessantly compared myself to those who were already heroes- as I had already compared myself all my life to Thor- realized once again that I would always fall short, and eventually have given up hope.
"No. What I really needed was to fall among creatures who were not afraid or suspicious of me simply because I was a strange alien sorcerer. Creatures who could show me that what is perceived as a monster is not necessarily monstrous. Who knew that even if I was red-eyed and blue, what really counted was my actions, my intentions, and who demonstrated this to me until I was able to understand it.
"And none of that would have happened if you had not heard my fall, and had the compassion and the courage- and also the recklessness- to take me in, to speak on my behalf to Mitchell and George. It takes tremendous courage to trust the way you do, Annie, and the fact Owen was unworthy of your trust is a flaw in him, not in you. Perhaps some of those other troubled young men were made better by knowing you." Annie snorted, and Loki hugged her tighter, relief flowing warmly through his veins at the realization that he could. "You cannot know it is not true. I do not say you 'fixed' them, changed them entirely, but you certainly must have influenced one or two of them for the better."
"Not Owen," Annie mumbled.
"And possibly not Dr. Doom, were you to meet him," Loki agreed. "Perhaps their evil is truly intransigent, but that is not your fault." He stopped himself before he could add, It would be like blaming the Jotun people for being in the way of the Bifrost. If Loki was more like Owen than he wanted to admit, that was his burden, and not Annie's to carry for him. "What he did to you was a terrible thing, Annie, but he did it, and not you. And the fact he was capable of such evil is no reflection on you, or your worth, or of what you deserve. No part of it was your fault or should burden you. Please, Annie, believe me."
Annie was silent for another long moment. And then she turned over in his arms and wrapped her own around him.
"What I don't deserve is you," she murmured into his chest.
"That is true," Loki agreed. "But until we find someone who is good enough for you, I would be very pleased if you would accept me in his place."
Annie giggled weakly and snuggled into him.