Again, thank you all so much. Shoutout to westernfemme, your questions in your reviews help me a hell of a lot, make me consider things I hadn't even thought about.
I don't own Marvel or any of it's characters. I do not make any profit from this fanfiction.
"Tony I swear to god-"
"Can't talk right now Rogers, working on doing some illegal things."
"You're going to get all of us under even stricter watch."
"Then make..." he pauses for a second, checking he has his copy. "...sure I don't get caught."
Steve opens his mouth to ask him exactly how no one has killed him yet, but the painfully offhand telling of his time in Afghanistan taps him and tells him that yeah, that's pretty insensitive and stupid to even think.
His mouth slowly pulls the words back in, as if it were backing away from a predator.
Instead, he sighs.
"Fine. What are you doing anyway?" He leans against the workshop table, after carefully inspecting for a spot that wasn't cluttered and greasy.
"Ummm..."
"I'll report you to Fury right now."
Tony makes a whiny noise.
"I might be deleting S.H.I.E.L.D's records of Loki, and keeping them for blackmail."
Though he wants to object, Rogers looks off for a bit, thinking about how dark the scene was, Loki lying in a pool of his own blood, lines climbing up his arms, desperate to reach higher. His ink black hair settled around his head, a devil's halo. The hair became even darker with the crimson liquid. How the rageful god finally looked at peace, peace with releasing himself from his life.
He shudders.
"Why?"
"Well, I was talking to Nat, and she did that weird emotional detachment thing. Something about not bitching over a problem you weren't trying to solve."
"Makes sense. Wait..."
"Yes, I'm worried about they'll do to him for info. Fury works for the 'greater good' and all that jazz, but he doesn't mind enemy casualties, whether they are currently a threat or not."
Steve can't deny that.
"So, you'll only give the files back if they agree not to do anything to him?"
"Exactly. Sometimes I do have a heart. At least, according to Pep."
The blonde sits up from the worktable, brushing himself off. Walking towards the doors, the Captain smiles. Though Tony can't see it, he really does do good, he changed a lot from his old self, designing weapons of mass destruction. His first judge of his character was completely wrong.
"I'll make sure none of these guys catch you."
The doors silently close behind him, and he makes his way down the hall. Feeling as content as he can, considering the circumstances, he decides to change and make his way to the training gym.
Those plans are quickly erased, at the security breach alarms scratch the air.
Loki had been devising ways to get out of the room, but his entire body feels like it's being pinned down.
He just feels so useless. His wrists are not even able to twist. At the least they hide his failed flaws.
The room, he decided, is his punishment. There is one window, which is tightly shut and curtains clinging to each other. All of the walls are beige and bare, the floor staring back at him with tainted linoleum. He still is anxious of the machines around him, especially the one that keeps up it incessant beeping. It seems to keep time with his heart, speeding or slowing down at times, but for what reason, is beyond his knowledge.
Loki deliberately ignores whatever is letting itself into his blood.
His mind reels with the ridiculousness of all this. Why wouldn't they be beating information out of him by now? All of this waiting just makes his nerves coil around each other, ready to spring at any moment. He'd much rather knowing his real punishment. Allowing him to rest was probably only one phase of his imminent trials. Let him think he is safe, cradle him softly into security, then bash it out of him, telling him how stupid he was for believing that was true.
The last bit was useless to them, he already knew he clung to affection too easily.
But betray him, and you will somehow disappear, blades somehow sinking their way into your back, poison caressing your throat, your hair falling in uneven and irritable strands beside your pillow.
He shakes his head. Sif hadn't betrayed him. Her hair was sheared off in a childish prank. Out of a moment of remorse, he had gotten her new hair, shining bright as the amber rays of the sun. For a few moments after it was put on her head, everyone in the council hall admired it in awe, as it glittered in the surrounding light, casting warm shadows over the room like candlelight. The room grew darker, and chagrin peppered the room. As her hair turned black as his own, his pride and apologeticness left his face, fear and confusion hugging his gut, as if they had missed him for the day he had able to ignore them.
The needle and thread…
He is brought out of the memory abruptly.
Blaring alarms begin to tear at his ears, yellow lights flashing underneath the door.
As soon as he hears the first ringing of a breach, Steve curses to himself and runs back to Stark's workshop.
"What did you do?!"
"I didn't do anything!"
"Damn it Tony, fix this."
"Fix what, Captain?" Nick Fury strides into the room, the yellow flashes accentuate the anger in his eye.
"Sir-"
"Save it. I just wanna know why the hell, Stark was stealing important files on someone who tried to either kill us or rule us."
"Alright, alright, easy there Cyclops." Tony steps forward, his hands up in a submissive gesture.
"Stark-"
"No, let me finish. It's rude to interrupt people." Crossing his arms, he waits for it to go silent, the blaring of the alarms ignored. "Good. Now, I only borrowed-"
"Stole."
"Borrowed those documents on the little shit because you guys have a reputation of doing evil government stuff to prisoners."
"We were only going to interrogate him."
"Fury, we all know what that actually means. Doing something like that to Loki would fucking tear him apart."
"Tear him apart? What the actual hell are you talking about?"
"So you don't believe the fucking reports that I had to fill out?"
"Sir, you assigned me to do that."
"Jarvis, you are not helping."
The director progressively fills the room with his discontent. "No."
Steve looks at him with wild confusion. "What?!"
Fury keeps his eyes on Stark. "With his behaviour in the past, I have no reason to believe that he would something that stu-"
Tony laughs maliciously, all his cool demeanor of before boiling away into steam. "Before you finish that, I'm gonna pretend that I'm not about to make you fully blind."
Still reeling from Fury's disbelief, Cap turns to Tony slowly. "Don't make this worse."
"I won't." He winks at Steve, causing the latter to roll his eyes. "You can get the files back, under a couple of conditions." He lists them off on his hand. "One, no 'interrogating' Loki. Two…" Stopping for a moment, he tries to think of something that would both piss off Fury and help Loki. "He stays at the tower-"
"Absolutely not."
"Let me finish. He stays at the tower, as long as there is at least one person there to keep watch. If there isn't, then he comes back here for as long as we are gone. Three, no calling all of us on assignment just so you can get him. And try to contact Thor."
"What's stopping me from calling someone down here to get the files?"
"I'll cut funding. Also taking all the things I have designed for you guys."
"God damn it Stark."
"Hm, I could call Pepper right now and about half of your funds would be gone."
"Fine. When the hell do you want him at the tower?"
Tapping the arms of the cot he is restrained to bores him to no end, but it's the only thing that blocks out these damned alarms.
Sighing, his chest is a rainy day, damp and heavy and dark. His heart stubbornly keeps beating, though it feels like hooks grip at it, every time it pulses, ripping larger holes in it. The only thing he wishes he could do right now is rip it out, watch it come to rest on this dust ridden floor. Coating it's muscle with dirt, like the cooks used to season meat in the kitchens. Gazing how the blood spattered around it with a hard smack. He wonders briefly if it has holes in it, like he imagines.
It's useless to him.
All his heart does is cause unnecessary pain.
His knuckles go white gripping the ends of the arm rests, before resuming their rhythm.
Tap, tap, tap.
Beating like his bitter and unwanted heart.
He notices vaguely that the flashing lights have stopped along with the annoying blare of the alarms.
Silence.
Except for his tapping.
"Loki Laufeyson?"
The tapping stops, as he is startled. There is no one in the room…
"Loki Laufeyson, you will be retrieved from this station."
Retrieved?
As if he were a tool…
Bring about an alliance, bring about permanent peace... through you.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Wanted to make this longer, but I just wasn't feeling it anymore ughhhh. Thank you for the favorites, follows, and reviews. ^^