Yes, I know. Hello again, if there's anyone still here. If you are, then seriously, why? It's been months. Are you really still interested in this? If you are then wow, I love you, thank you so much, please don't hate me for taking so long.

Long story short, lots of health issues + massive confidence crash = no work on fanfics. I'm still all over the place so I'm not sure how regular updates will be, but I've remembered how much I love this story, so I'm gonna try and finish it, for myself primarily as that's the only way I can write it at the moment. As long as there are people who still wanna read it on here, I'll keep posting. Just keep in mind that updates may be sporadic. Thank you all for your patience.

o

Chapter Twenty Four:

Telling The Truth

"Now, can we finally get started?"

The director sounded impatient and Efa supposed she couldn't blame him. She'd once again insisted on greeting everyone properly, hugging anyone she hadn't yet hugged - except Fury - and generally being what she was sure most of them, including Loki, considered over-enthusiastic. Partly she was just excited to actually meet these people she'd known her whole life, partly she hoped that hugging them all would help dispel the idea that she and Loki were going to do something evil. She conceded, however, that mostly it was probably just to try and stall the inevitable moment of explanation, which she was sure would result in them all hating her.

She gave Pip, who was sat under the table with his head on her lap, one last stroke, winding her fingers firmly in his fur, then looked up. The calm rush of his Memories were denied to her seeing as she was wearing her gloves, but it was comforting nonetheless. The table was wedge-shaped, it's two long sides angled meaning that everyone had a clear view of her and Loki, sat at the wider end as they were. Fury sat directly opposite them, alone at the head of the table. Agent Hill was to his left, and Clint to his right, just about as far from Loki as he could get. Thor and Tony sat nearest to them, Thor to Efa's left, closest to Loki, and Tony just to her right. Steve and Natasha filled the two seats between Thor and Clint. The only empty chair was between Hill and Bruce. All of them were staring at her. The result was rather intimidating.

"I'm not sure where to start," she admitted.

"How about you take it from the beginning?" Fury suggested.

Efanna's eyes immediately sought out Loki's at that. The exchange was so similar to the one they had had, almost exactly a month ago now. It felt like a lifetime. The repetition obviously wasn't lost on him either. It was almost eerie, and certainly didn't help her confidence. Hopefully this lot would take it better than he had. They had a lot more scope to actually do her harm. Although it had ended up turning out alright last time, she reasoned. Sort of. She wished she could have had a Vision of how this was going to go, although she supposed there were so many variables that anything she might have Seen would have inevitably been a chaotic mess and no real use at all.

She took a deep breath and tried to steady her nerves again. The beginning. Efanna suddenly felt weary. There was so much to explain. This was hard enough the first time.

"That's a very long way," she said, trying to push her thoughts into some semblance of order in her mind. Not that it was much use. She'd been trying to do that all night and still hadn't really got anywhere.

"We have time," Fury countered.

Efa sighed. The intensity of the states she was receiving from all sides, even from Loki, were not helping her think.

"Okay, what do you want to know?" she asked. "Answering your questions might help me frame my explanation."

A few glances were shared around the table, silently pointing out that of course their questions were all obvious. But, Efa reasoned, being asked them might at least provide her with a starting point.

"Let's start with where you obtained the vast amount of highly classified information you possess," Fury suggested, "How you knew about Agent Romanoff and the situation in Alaska. How you know so much about the current situation and these 'ice-creatures'. How you were able to call Stark on a number he assures me you couldn't have known."

"She couldn't," Tony interjected stubbornly, "And whilst we're on the questions, how did you even knew that was going to happen, four hours before it did? And believe me, that's just for starters, Missy."

"Okay, that really doesn't help at all," Efa moaned, resisting the urge to slump forward and bash her head against the table in frustration. Instead she looked down at Pip, his eyes steady and encouraging as always.

"I'm just going to have to come out and say it aren't I?" she muttered, more to her dog than anyone else. He gave her hand a little lick. She glanced up at Loki again, which wasn't much help. His expression was carefully guarded and offered no support or suggestion as to how to move forward.

"Okay then," she announced with a strange sort of false enthusiasm, turning to face her audience and buoying herself up for the inevitable fallout her explanation would produce. They wouldn't react any better if she kept stalling. It was now or never. Right now she almost wished it could be never.

"I have Visions."

In her state of heightened anxiety the reactions to her statement seemed almost comical. Eyebrows were raised, one or two mouths even opened slightly. She could almost taste the disbelief in the air. With a quick glance around the table, Efa decided Thor was the only one who wasn't currently questioning her sanity. Loki was almost laughing, although she doubted anyone else would be able to tell.

"Visions."

Tony was, unsurprisingly, the first one to voice his incredulity.

"So, what, you're a psychic?" His tone was highly sceptical, and he looked rather like he thought she was either taking the piss, or psychotic.

"That's not a word I'd choose," Efa said.

"What would you call yourself then?" Agent Hill asked.

"Efanna," Efa answered, not particularly meaning to be sarcastic, but gaining more raised eyebrows. "I've never really thought about it that way, what I'd be called or classed as. It's just the way I am. I've only ever just been me."

There was a pause as everyone took in the fact that she was actually serious.

"So you see the future?" Steve asked.

"Yes. Sort of. At least, partly. It's much more complicated than that."

"So explain it," Fury instructed. It was hard to tell exactly what the director was thinking, but at the moment he looked more interested than anything else. Efa supposed he had gotten used to dealing with the unusual, and was probably trying to work out how he could use this to his advantage.

"Okay…" she started, wondering where best to start, "What do you know about ancient Celtic beliefs, or modern Paganism?"

She didn't really need to wait for an answer.

"Eh, thought not. Right, quick lesson then. Samhain, often spelt sam-hain, was - and indeed still is - a Pagan festival, and is also the traditional Celtic New Year. These days it's been replaced by Halloween and very few remember the original significance."

"How exactly is this relevant?" Tony interrupted.

"I'll get to that in a minute," she promised. Starting from here calmed her somewhat, got her into the mindset of explaining things, but without being too painful for her, or shocking for the others. Breaking it gently one might say.

"Samhain is the time at which the veil between worlds is at its thinnest," she continued, "At Samhain time loses all meaning; the past, the present, and the future all blend into one. Midnight is when all of this reaches its peak. And that's when I was born. Exactly midnight on Samhain, twenty-two years ago. Somehow, we've never known why, but we think that changed me. As though being born in that moment of no-time - or perhaps all-time - means that I have a different relationship to time than other - normal - people."

Efanna took another deep breath. This is where it started to get complicated. Another quick glance around the table revealed a range of expressions, from sceptical to intrigued. Her eyes flicked back to the table before she spoke again, however, her hands once again balling up in Pip's fur under the table. She really wasn't used to having this many people pay attention to her.

"All my life I've had these Visions. They cover all states of time, the past and the present as well as the future. They're not something I can control-" she wanted to get that straight from the start, she wasn't having SHIELD try to turn her into their own personal fortune teller "-They're completely random, both in timing and in content. I can't sit down and choose what I want to See. I don't just See anything however; although the specifics are impossible to predict, the general theme is consistent."

Efa paused again, looking up anxiously. So far they'd all taken it rather well. She wasn't sure if they actually believed her yet, but they'd at least listened without too much protest. That was pretty unlikely to continue, she thought. Her mouth felt dry and she wondered if she'd be able to ask for some water. Considering the way they were all looking at her though, that would probably have to wait.

"I See you."

Silence reined as everyone took that in. Some looked confused, others were beginning to look suspicious.

"What do you mean, you See 'us'?" Tony asked, his eyes narrowing.

"I mean…" She took another deep breath, steadying her nerves. "The past and present and futures I See, they're yours. Your lives. Your pasts, your futures. All of you - although not really Fury and Hill. And my own of course. And Loki's. I've spent my life Seeing yours."

She stopped again, her eyes now flicking desperately between theirs, waiting for them to react. The tension in the room was almost palpable. She could sense Loki stiffening next to her. None of them were happy about her revelation, that much was obvious. Some were hiding it better than others. Clint looked almost angry, Steve somewhat shocked, Tony distinctly unimpressed. Bruce and Thor seemed to be taking it best; Bruce looked thoughtful, if slightly uncomfortable and Thor's expression was rueful, but at least he seemed accepting of the idea. Natasha's poker face was as good as ever but the slight curve to one eyebrow suggested she certainly wasn't enamoured with the idea. Efanna wanted to run and hide.

"Exactly how much do you See?" Bruce asked.

"A lot," Efa admitted, "Not everything, thankfully. But far more than I'd like. Definitely all the things of major importance I think. A fair bit that can seem a bit pointless or obscure too, or at least that doesn't make much sense yet. Most of that tends to end up meaning something though, even if I don't understand it at the time. Or I'm sure it will do. Things never come in the right order."

Deciding it might be a good idea to give them a moment to let that sink in before she dropped the next bombshell, Efanna paused again, intently watching their reactions. She assumed they were now probably trying to categorise their lives into what might be classed as things of major importance, and therefore that she was likely to have Seen.

"What sort of things are you talking about here?" Steve asked. "Could you give a few examples?"

Efanna bit her lip, trying to scramble together anything which would make sense, not be too personal to make general knowledge, and that had actually happened. There didn't seem much point complicating matters with things that they'd only have her word for yet.

"Well, Manhattan, obviously; and what happened in Alaska, you already know about that. The really big things, like, Steve, you meeting Erskine and going through the super-soldier program, a lot of your involvement in the War; Tony, what happened in Afghanistan, and you building your suits; Clint and Natasha, when you first met, and decided not to kill each other; Bruce, the accident, and, well, pretty much every time you've Hulked out; Thor, everything in New Mexico and all that."

They were very general examples, things that everyone would know about, or at least of. It made her explanation seem rather lame but she was privy to a lot of their secrets, and she would ensure that they were kept.

"Excepting Alaska, none of that would be particularly hard to find out, from the right source," Natasha pointed out, "How do we know you're telling the truth?"

"I know. I'll prove it as best I can, but I See a lot, and most of it's, well, pretty personal. Think of every moment in your life which has led you to where you are now, or where you're going, or where you might go. I've Seen most of those. And I'll probably end up Seeing the rest at some point in my life. I know a lot of things you don't want me to, and a lot of things you don't want other people to know. Those aren't things I'm going to tell anyone but the person who lived them. I've already invaded your privacy enough."

o

Loki watched with curiosity as their captors watched Efanna. He had stayed silent since they'd been seated, keeping still, careful that his expression showed no emotion or reaction at what transpired. Any contribution from him would inevitably do nothing but harm Efanna's explanations, and he would show no signs of weakness in the presence of those whom he still considered enemies, regardless of what Efanna would have him believe. Fading into the background as such also gave him the chance to more closely observe the reactions of those who sat around the table, allowing him to gain valuable insights as to their characters which they might have tried harder to hide had he made his presence more known. It was a familiar tactic, and one that without his usual arsenal of magic and strength was particularly important now.

So far they seemed to be dealing with her revelations remarkably well, although they had barely scratched the surface of Efa's secrets. It was her natural sincerity and the way she seemed almost to radiate her emotions, Loki suspected, that was the main factor in there thus far being so little negative reaction. Her tone was solemn, regretful, and particularly at her last admission, apologetic. Once again Loki was reminded of the extent of the guilt she placed upon herself for Seeing what she did. There was a definite undercurrent of hostility and distrust running through the room however, and Loki wondered how long it would take to rise to the surface. Her admission that she knew many things they would not want her to had certainly heightened the tension in the room considerably. Loki knew all too well how unpleasant it was to find that a complete stranger knew your life so intimately.

"You realise that virtually anything could be considered as having led us to this point," Stark commented, "So what, you've Seen everything? Our whole lives? Okay then, what did I have for breakfast… 3rd January 2006?"

Loki rolled his eyes and shot the mortal a scathing glance. Was the concept Efanna was introducing really so difficult to grasp? Efa, however, was far more patient than him, answering his question with little more than a raised eyebrow.

"Some events are more pivotal than others," she told him, "I See those. What you have for breakfast usually isn't one of them."

"Hey, breakfast is a very important meal," Stark countered, "As Pepper informs me every time I skip it."

Efanna gave a small smile at that, and Loki scowled.

"You wouldn't even remember anyway, so it's not the best way for me to prove I'm telling the truth."

"Then what is?" Fury asked.

"Could you get me some paper?" Efa asked after a moment's thought, "It needs to be A3, although two bits of A4 is okay if I can tape them together. And a pen, preferably a fine-liner, but a biro will do if it's got a steady ink flow and doesn't blotch. Black ink ideally."

Her request was met with some rather odd looks.

"What are you going to do?" Rodgers asked.

"Draw," Efanna replied simply.

The solution seemed a sound one to Loki's mind. Her drawings had been the catalyst for his discovery of her secrets, and it was hard to refute the evidence of your life sketched on paper before you. Fury considered her for a moment before agreeing to her request, ordering that her supplies be fetched through his earpiece.

"You said you have no control over when you have these Visions," Thor commented whilst they waited, "How then do you know when they will arrive, and prepare for them?"

For all that he liked to believe Thor's intellect limited, Loki was not surprised that he was first to further question how Efanna's Visions worked. The idea of such abilities as hers was far more accepted on Asgard than it was here on Earth it seemed.

"I don't," Efanna said.

"How does this work then?" Thor asked, his brow furrowing slightly, "If these Visions are truly random as you say, is it not highly inconvenient? I have never heard of a Seer who could perceive both Vision and reality at once."

"Oh, it's inconvenient," Efa snorted, "Whenever I have a Vision I pass out."

"So that is why you collapsed last night then," Thor said, realisation dawning on his face.

"And all those times on the jet?" Stark added.

"Yes."

"Isn't that dangerous?" Rodgers asked, "Passing out at random times?"

"It's not exactly safe. I've bashed my head more times than I can count, fallen down the stairs a fair amount, broken a few bones. Once or twice I've had a fairly nasty incident with knives or burns whilst cooking."

"How are you even still alive?" Stark asked sardonically.

Efa chuckled dryly.

"My Visions don't seem to ever threaten my life," she told them, "It's like they're linked to my survival instinct somehow. I'll get hurt, yes, but nothing that's ever been serious."

"Oh, so head injuries and falling down the stairs aren't serious?" Stark quipped, "I don't even want to go into the 'fairly nasty incidents with knives'."

Although he would never admit it, Loki privately agreed with this particular point. Despite, or perhaps because of, her self-restorative abilities, Efanna's attitude towards her personal safety seemed almost recklessly indifferent.

"They'd be serious for anyone else," she explained, "For me, not so much. My Visions aren't the only thing about me that doesn't exactly make sense. For some reason I, well, I heal. I think it's so the Visions don't actually kill me."

"What exactly do you mean by 'heal'?" Banner asked.

"Well, it's just like the usual healing process, but faster. The worse the injury the faster it heals. Even the worst bruise will be gone within a couple of days, and if I crack my head or break my leg it sorts itself out pretty much immediately. It takes energy though, and if it's really bad a fair amount of concentration. I don't really notice things like bruises or small cuts, but bigger things are really draining. And it still hurts. Just all in one go."

"Interesting," Banner murmured, looking thoughtful.

The door opened then, and an agent entered with a sheaf of paper and a few pens. Fury directed him to give them to Efanna, and on realising whom she was sat by, the agent elected to take the side of the table furthest from Loki to make his delivery. Loki gave him a particularly evil, knowing smile and the man balked slightly. Knowing that he still caused such fear among SHIELD's forces satisfied Loki immensely. Efanna thanked the agent politely before he exited the room as fast as he could without appearing that he was hurrying. Loki smirked.

"So how is you drawing us a picture going to convince us you're telling the truth?" Fury asked as Efa straightened the sheets before her.

"If someone could give me a scene, a memory, something visual from your life that there is no way I could know if I wasn't telling the truth," Efanna explained, "Something important that I will definitely have Seen, but be specific - one exact moment in time. Preferably something no one else saw but you and isn't recorded anywhere, so there's no way I could have gotten it from somewhere else either. Don't give me a date, I'm hopeless with dates. Describe it to me just enough that I know what you're talking about. Then I'll draw it."

"If you have a description, won't that defeat the point?" Hill pointed out.

"Keep it as brief as possible. The bare minimum for me to know what you mean. Just a couple of words should do, I'll ask if I need more. There'll be a difference between what's said and what I draw, believe me."

Her audience looked sceptical, but there was silence as they cast through their memories to find a suitable example. Loki was curious to know what they might choose.

"That's very specific criteria," Banner commented, "You realise that this is SHIELD, they're proof that there's very little that's impossible to find out if you have the right resources, the right contacts."

"I know," Efanna agreed, "Just think of something that fits best. I'm willing to do as many as I need to for you to believe me. I'm sure I'm being overly fastidious, but I know you don't trust me and will try and point out any other way I might have got the information. I thought that if I went at it from the same angle it would make it easier. I'm hoping the pictures will speak for themselves though, once you've seen them."

"What the hell," Stark announced, "You're so sure you can do this? Fine. You said you Saw what happened in Afghanistan. So: what I saw when I woke up there - no, hold on, they were filming that."

"It was a live feed though," Efa supplied, "They didn't record anything. And I can draw much more than their cameras ever saw."

Stark's eyebrows raised at her assertion.

"Go on then," he challenged.

"After the surgery?" Efa queried, "Or when they film your ransom? I'm guessing you don't mean during the surgery itself."

"After." Stark's words were short and clipped. "I was barely conscious during."

"I still Saw it."

Loki was not the only one who noticed the hardness that crept into Efanna's voice. The melancholy that seemed so out of place with her usual demeanour. It was hard to ignore the tightly-controlled emotion that had layered her words. Stark was scrutinising her, obviously uncomfortable with the notion that she might be telling the truth and what he would then have to accept she knew about him. Their eyes locked for a moment and Loki knew the mortal was being bombarded by the unnerving understanding that so often filled the redhead's gaze.

"Don't try and talk to me whilst I'm drawing," she said, turning back to the paper in front of her and choosing a pen. "I have to shut out everything else, so I won't hear you."

Her eyes flitted around the table once more, finally stopping on Loki for a moment. He could see the vulnerability there, the worry, even fear. Once again she was biting her lip. He remembered her admission that morning, when she had visited him before they'd been escorted here, that she was scared they would hate her. Her testament that she couldn't do this without him. Only a few short weeks ago her eyes had held that same fear that he would hate her, yet now she seemed curiously dependant on him. The wild, irrepressible, emotional creature still baffled him.

She took a deep breath then, turning to her paper and closing her eyes before releasing it slowly as she moved the pen to hover over the centre of the page. As Loki watched her shoulders relaxed and her back straightened. With another breath she opened her eyes and quietly murmured a few words in what Loki now recognised as Welsh. Her eyes seemed to focus on something beyond the paper and slowly the pen began to ghost across the page, her arm appearing to move of its own volition, though Loki knew it was acting on the directions of her subconscious. A curious hush fell over the room and even Loki found it hard not to watch as the paper filled before them.

The picture that grew was rough, sketchy, the interior of the cave it depicted at first seeming rather unremarkable. But it was the detail which defined it, tiny things, most that Loki doubted Stark would have even noticed when he had actually been there. Although the place was in no way familiar to Loki, it was obvious that the picture was an uncanny representation of the mortal's memory.

o

It was always a disorientating experience when her subconscious relinquished control back to her conscious mind, but doing so under a room full of intense stares was even more so. Efa shook her head slightly as her eyes swam back into focus. Once again the reality of the present she was actually living was asserting upon her just how, well, real it was. It still wasn't something she was particularly used to. Ignoring everyone else for a moment she looked down at the illustration she'd just produced, critically noticing areas which she could probably have drawn better if she'd been doing it as a piece of art. That's not what it was though, she reminded herself firmly. Whilst she could have produced the image without the aid of her subconscious it would have taken a lot longer, and inevitably things would have been left out, or areas distorted slightly. This was simply a recording of what her inner mind told her she needed to know, or in this case show.

Once again sucking in the corner of her lip to chew upon her eyes flicked up to the rest of the room. Interestingly a lot of them were now watching Tony, not just her. Efa cast her gaze over to him nervously, handing the drawing over and wondering what he was thinking. His eyebrows were raised and Efanna got the feeling that he hadn't really believed she was going to produce anything of worth.

"The perspective's a little odd," she apologised, "I See things from a sort of third person point of view." She didn't bother to ask him what he thought, she knew that what she'd drawn was accurate.

"Wow. That's…"

Tony looked up at her, his eyes searching her expression fully, obviously trying to figure out if this was all just a trick somehow.

"Okay, I'll admit, I was not expecting that," he confessed finally, looking back down at the picture and then pushing it away from him slightly, almost as though in distaste. Efa wondered whether that was because he wasn't happy with the idea she could do that, or whether the memory itself was making him uncomfortable. Or both.

"It's accurate?" Bruce asked.

"Scarily so."

Tony flicked his eyes back to her.

"As crazy as your story sounds, I'm starting to wonder if you might actually be telling the truth here," he admitted grudgingly after a moment. "Because that is just … exact."

Efanna wasn't sure if she was relieved to hear that or not. Being believed was obviously the goal here, but she still wasn't sure what they'd do after. Nervously she reached back under the table again. Pip had laid down a while back, leaning up against her legs but he quickly sat up again as she shuffled her feet. Once more he shoved his head in her lap and she began distractedly stroking his ears as discussion formed around her.

About forty minutes later she was beginning to think she had them convinced. There were several more drawings scattered about the table, each of which had brought forth discussions about how else she could have gained such information, how much she could have realistically invented or simply assumed to be there, and how accurate it really was given that they could only be corroborated by one person's memory, the quality of which had also been questioned several times. The consistency of her accuracy and the extreme detail she produced were beginning to sway them however. They were being given a steady stream of evidence and trying to dispute it with suggestion and coincidence. Regardless of how fantastical her abilities sounded, logic was piling up in her favour.

This was all what Efanna had expected, but the process was beginning to tire her. Digging into her memory for particular moments like this took more effort than the usual process of clearing her mind each night. Added to her lack of sleep, the sheer amount that had happened the day before, jet lag, and her state of heightened emotional tension, this was quickly becoming a feat of endurance. She glanced over at Loki who was sitting in silence, almost forgotten. His eyes however were alert, flitting around the table and, Efanna was sure, missing very little. Noticing her watching he turned his gaze on her for a moment. Efa wasn't sure what might be going on behind that intense stare, and that worried her slightly.

"You believe her then?"

Agent Hill's question jerked her back to the conversation. Were they finally going to make some sort of a decision?

"I see no reason not to," Thor said, "There is validity to your concerns but I see no other explanation that could truly explain the extent, and timing of Efanna's knowledge. There is more for her yet to tell us, certainly, more I wish to know, but thus far she has complied with every request and answered every question we have put to her without hesitation. I believe she is telling the truth."

Efanna gave Thor a grateful smile, which he returned. It seemed she had at least one ally.

"Or she's playing a very clever, very elaborate game," Fury argued.

Efa wasn't sure whether he actually believed this was true, or just putting the suggestion out there for the others to consider.

"I don't know," Bruce said, "Visions? It may sound unlikely, but it does make sense when you consider what we know about her. And who are we to say what's possible and what's not? We're not exactly normal ourselves."

"It does all seem to be adding up in her favour," Tony agreed, "I don't like it, but our arguments are pretty flimsy here."

Efa bit her lip and held her breath. So that was three of them who believed her, even if it was reluctantly. She looked round the table at the others. Was it enough for them too?

"Yesterday. Second attack," Natasha said suddenly. "You were already on the jet and you've been under observation ever since. We know no one's told you anything. You already said you Saw me there, there's no other way you could know what I mean. If what you draw is on par with the detail in these-" she gestured to the nearest drawing "-Then there's no way you could've just made it up."

Efanna nodded. She ran through the brief herself and couldn't think of any other way they could suggest she might've got the information. A couple of minutes later she slid the finished picture across the table. It centred on the agent, a gun in each hand and a thin beam of torchlight stretching out in front of her with a background of dark, mangled and frozen machinery. Blood trickled down from a cut on her cheek and a single drop had fallen from a second on her left arm, half frozen as it met the mist that clung to the floor. The room fell silent again as Natasha considered the image.

"Well?" Fury asked

"It's accurate," Natasha confirmed, "She's telling the truth. I don't see any other way she could have drawn this."