Scene 5: Location Unknown
Sigyn hums a morbid tune as she walks up the stairs. She holds a tray in her hands with fruit and wild boar, which she 'borrowed' from an Asgardian supply stall a few days before. She takes her time, almost nervous as she approaches the door because there is no sound coming from the other side. Not even the faint sound of breathing. Regardless, Sigyn knew he would still be there, he was far too weak to wander off, so she braced herself, stood up straight, and opened the door.
"Told you I would be back." She walked quickly and placed the tray on the bedside table. Folding her arms behind her, she did a little bow. Loki only stared at her in reply. "I assumed you would be hungry. You must eat if you are to regain your strength." She was having greater difficulty than she imagined – the taunts and sneers she knew how to deal with, dealt with them for her entire life. But the silence. That was far too familiar – she couldn't have that, not again. "You know, I'm not a healer, but I am fairly certain poison does not cause selective muteness. However, there is an ailment called imanungreatfulbitch that results in such behavior. Are you familiar with it?"
"Why are you so vulgar?"
"Oh good. You CAN talk." She spun around, "I was worried I was going to have to perform a lobotomy."
"For someone who isn't a healer, you have a great knowledge of medicine."
"Like you have a great knowledge of the ways of war?"
"I am VERY knowledgeable in the plans of battle!"
"And yet you LOST to EARTH."
"I DID NOT!"
She raised her eyebrow, barely hiding her bitch-face. "Aw… Loki, we both know that's not true."
"WHY are you even HERE!?"
"To keep you from dying."
"That still does NOT answer my question!"
"That is the reason I am in this room."
"NO. Why are you HERE."
"Because I live here."
"How could anyone chose live in this disgusting ruin?"
"So you want to know my life story? Doesn't that encourage sentiment?"
"Does that bother you, the cold-hearted healer?"
"Sentimentality is pathetic and childish."
Loki chuckled. "Who said that?"
"You did." She said before taking her leave. "I'll be back for the tray in an hour." She closed the door behind her
Scene 6: Stark Tower
Tony sat at his desk, in a cold steel office that occupied the top floor. Just outside the window the very top of the word STARK – freshly reconstructed – blocked the view of the city below. He muttered to himself, doing anything BUT what he's supposed to be doing. Whatever that was. At least the tower had been rebuilt; he poured nearly a billion in the reconstruction, adding a few secret upgrades of his own… nothing wrong with a little insurance. He was just finishing his blueprints for a new ironman suit upgrade when there was a knock at the door.
"It opens."
"Tony," Pepper Potts walked right up to the desk, "you have a message from the Coronel about-"
"Tell him no. What do you think?" Tony held up his sketch for Pepper to see, his face blank. Pepper didn't even glance at it. "I thought you were working."
"I am working, just not on work."
"Well good." She dropped a flash drive in front of him. "This just arrived for you from SHEILD." Tony raised his brow at her. "Apparently it's urgent." Without another word she left the room.
"I thought I was supposed to be working on work."
"Not anymore!" She shouted through the door.
Scene 7: An Old Motel, Brooklyn
The old Westside Motel was far from attractive. Yellow brick walls with the paint peeling off, trees either dead or dying surrounding the parking lot, garbage distributed everywhere and broken windows. The place was far from decent, but to Steve Rogers it was home, for now.
VVVVRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!
Steve drove into the worn parking lot, turning the ignition and kicking up the stand of his classic Harley motorcycle. He cleared his throat and walked silently to his room, number 18, just ten meters from his parking spot. The key jingled in his hands as he placed it into the lock. The hinges squeaked when the door opened, complaining as it closed again. The lights flickered, and as Steve placed his jacket on the seedy bedframe he noticed it. A file with the official SHEILD insignia in the center.
"Here we go." He muttered to himself as he lifted it up and opened it.
Scene 8: Stark Tower Laboratory
Bruce Banner sat on an uncomfortable stool in the middle of the second workshop floor. There were thousands of machines for programing, manufacturing, testing and upgrading. The second floor focused on radioactive weaponry, and therefore Bruce spent most of his time there, trying to complete his work on Gamma radiation, he hadn't touched his old papers in years. Old projects that shouldn't be looked at. However, it wasn't a bad idea creating a world-wide Global Algorithm that linked every universal spectrometer in a self-sustaining online network. Thanks to Tony, they could now detect gamma radiation signatures similar to the tesseract within T minus five minutes. Regardless, Bruce still spent all his free time among the machines. He was just looking over his notes when he heard the 'ding' of the elevator.
"Look alive big guy!"
"What is it Tony?"
"We got word from Nick." He said, slapping Bruce's shoulder. "Pack up."
"What happened?"
"No idea."
"Well that's a first. Better take a picture."
"Later," he grabbed Bruce's notes from his hands, "let's go!" He marched back to the elevator.
Bruce only stared at the place his notebook used to be, sighed, and slowly rose to his feet.
"This is going to be fun." He grumbled.
Scene 9: North Korea
Yet another stakeout - Hawkeye was perched atop a stout, glass building on the very edge of the economy district. The spy cameras were in place, the bug active and Natasha was closing in. Just recon, nothing more - no disturbances, no noise, no shots - just another terrorist threat assessment as a favor to the CIA. Fury liked having the other agencies owe him favors. He stopped watching the steel fortress across the street to check the laptop monitor streaming security cameras from the 21st floor. He clicked to enlarge the image of a large elevator, blocking any other view of marble floors, badge walls and steel doors, all hiding the five feet of bulletproof metal completely encasing the building.
"You're clear to board, all systems go." He whispered into the microphone attached to his watch.
"Alright, heading to number 21." Replied Agent Romanoff. He saw on the screen the doors opened and she passed through.
"Remember, you belong there." He saw her smirk at the camera, hand on her hip.
Do I look like I need a babysitter?
In a modest blue cocktail dress and matching heels she was on her way to a 'private' party… of approximately 500 people with potential ties to Al Quaeda and several other illegal militia networks. A dozen of them were high-profile targets-of-interest. They were only looking for one. Russian. Shouldn't be too hard for a Russian playboy to find an incredibly attractive (and single) woman … right?
Barton couldn't help but laugh. Poor Man. He doesn't stand a chance.
"Okay, I'll shut up."
"Just keep an eye up there for me."
"Will do."
Past the first doorway, little to the right - god, the music was loud! Then again, makes it that much harder to eavesdrop. She was weaving her way through the crowds, just get to the bar, then she can-
RIIIIIING.
What the-
RIIIIIIIIIING.
Now, Barton was SURE he didn't bring-
RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING.
That's enough. He tore through the case they gave him for the Op.
"Barton." He snapped into the flip-phone.
"We need you to come in."
"Director?"
"We have an emergency situation at base; we're calling in the team. You and Agent Romanoff need to come in immediately."
"Director, we've reached phase three. We can't call an extraction-"
"Yes you can."
And the line cut dead. A faint hum hissed out of his computer monitor before twelve numbers started to flash. Co-ordinates.
Scene 10: Location Unknown
Sigyn paces along a twisted corridor - her arms crossed and hair draped over her solemn face. She paused for a moment to glance up at the tower which could be seen through a hole in the wall; a crippled giant leaning towards the moon, desperate for its comfortable and forgiving light. For but a brief moment she stared at the stone fortress with wonder before resuming her frantic pace.
She could not get those words out of her head.
Perhaps she only needed to think it over - people are allowed to be inquisitive, right? Questions are innocent - but not when they're from him. Not when they are about her. Questions were not allowed. Her arms strained against her chest - biting her lip so hard she risked drawing blood.
Why did she live in a disgusting ruin?
Why was she helping him?
Why was she here?
Why?
A quick shake of the head brought everything back into its place. Not now. Not ever. She looked through the hole in the wall - the moon was almost directly overhead. An exasperated sigh escaped her lips; time's up. A quick step through the forgotten fortress led her there immediately, walking among them do many times eyes were unnecessary; a short climb, a brief pause, a slow gape, and finally an open door.
"You're late."
"Oh, I didn't realize frost giants wore watches."
"They don't."
"Ah."
"It's just an observation."
"Of course it is," she glided to the bedside table, "oh Loki what am I going to do with you." She picked up the full plate. "Eating is important."
"So is knowing who you're dealing with."
"Don't you remember my name?"
"With more ease than you remember the time."
"The time is irrelevant to you. It does not appear you will be going anywhere for a while."
He snarled at her. She smiled at him.
"You said an hour, so I expected as much."
"I asked you to eat, so I expected something."
"You did no such thing."
"Well, explaining how you need to eat to recover is only a suggestion. I didn't make any commands."
She put the tray down again and placed her hands on her hips. At that moment something appeared to catch her attention, her head tilted a little to the side.
"What?"
"Can you sit up?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"I asked if you could sit up. Or perhaps you consider that a command too?"
He looked quizzically at her before slowly bringing his arms to his sides, clenching his teeth and heaving himself forward. He gave her a superior smirk. "Hold still." She leaned in, lightly touching the place where his wound had been. "That's healed very well-" she whispered mostly to herself. She looked up at him. "You are just full of surprises, aren't you?"
Loki just shrugged, his eyes locked on hers for a moment - before realizing it and looking at her hand instead. "You should be fully recovered in a couple days." She lowered her arm and motioned him to lie back down - he complied in silence.
Sigyn pulled out a chair from the other side of the old room, dusted it off and sat down next to the bed.
"So… if you're not hungry- can I get you something else?"