Ughhhhhhhhhhh.
That is me ignoring my fic that needs to be updated. Super sorry for the wait, this chapter did not flow as well as I'd want.
I do not own Marvel or any of it's characters.
Loki tenses, as a buzzing noise makes itself known before the door handle is moved.
It is apparently time to be fetched.
Sitting up as straight as he can, he pastes a face of annoyance and boredom over the one of anger and fear.
A man, dressed in black and lightly armed speaks.
"I'm here to take you out of the facility."
"Wonderful."
The man comes over slowly, further making Loki grind his teeth.
He snaps at him. "Will you get on with it? My wrists hurt."
No response. The agent finally makes his way to the right of the bed and takes off the restraint. Relief spurs on through Loki, but before he can rub his wrist with his bound hand to get feeling back into it, his 'escort' snatches his arm, callused fingers causing friction against yet to heal marks.
"Ah!-could you possibly be any rougher?" He knows he is only picking at agitation in this mortal, but pain is not to be shown in front of enemies, no matter how he has to hide it.
Which is why his mind screams insults endlessly when his breath catches. The escort turns his arm over, exposing many nights of failed composure. Blank-faced, he looks at the tube running itself into Loki's flesh.
"Don't. Move."
"As if I could." The trickster is able to draw these words out of his mouth along a steady string. Looking back at him, the man heads towards the door.
He tries to steady his gasping as the mortal leaves. Why hadn't he expected that? His stunted breath barely levels itself before his unwanted company comes back with... bandages. It worries him that he would need them.
Gripping his arm again, the man pinches the base of the tube.
Loki hardly has time to wonder what is going on, before it is pulled out without ceremony.
He screams. Quick and sharp, a papercut on the air around them. Just as fast, the bandage is found wrapping around where it was.
"W-what was in that thing?" Loki doubts that they would let him know if it was poison, but he'll be able to decide from the lie this mortal tells him what it really was.
"Temporary blood replacement."
"What?"
"You lost a significant amount of blood after...what you did."
He wants to snarl, rip this idiot's throat out while he kept him alive with sorcery, all the while laughing and spitting in his face. Instead, he clenches his jaw, tight as wires holding them together. Of course they would want him to live, they can't let such an amazing opportunity go to waste.
His other hand is released and he is oh, so tempted to fulfill the fantasy he has conjured. It will only make things worse in the long run for him though, so represses those bright burning thoughts.
"While you are moved, you cannot see the facility, so you will be blindfolded."
"What a thoughtful gift. I'll no longer have to look upon your face."
Grunting, the man yanks Loki up, using more force than necessary to tie the blindfold. Handcuffing the silver-tongue, he leads him with a small chain hooked to the right cuff.
Vision gone black, Loki notices that he is only dressed in thin robe, barefoot.
That means that they have seen them all then. All his scars, all his cowardly pain. It makes him feel like there are rivers of slime running down his spine, to know they saw him nude. Choking on another thought, he grasps through his mind as blindly as he currently is, for the hope he hadn't lost enough energy to revert to Jotun form. No doubt S.H.I.E.L.D loves to find species it doesn't know fully about and cut them up, dig around quite literally for answers. One shame, Loki denies acknowledgement of.
Some of the Jotuns are intersex, which he buries down inside himself. A bubble of anxiety finds itself in his stomach, and decides it a nice home. Desperate for distraction and some destination, he inquires,
"Where am I being 'relocated?"
"Stark Tower."
A couple of seconds make their way past Loki, before he nearly trips from being yanked forward. He must have stopped out of shock.
Shock that is well founded.
Stark has either lost his mind, or they want to allow him some, some revenge.
Stumbling along, on terror and chains, there's nothing that could convince him that there was anything he had to live for.
"Look, just try not to say anything stupid when he's here alright?"
"He'll be lucky if I don't strangle him the minute he walks through the door."
Tony drags his hands down his face. "Clint, please don't be a jackass today. If you want, you can leave the tower until he's in his room."
"Nah."
"Why?"
"If he tries anything, I want to be the one to beat his ass."
"Dear fucking god."
Natasha walks in the kitchen from the hallway. "So, Loki's going to be staying here?"
"Yeah, that would be the plan if Clint could not kill him."
Pouring herself coffee, she takes a sip before saying, "Being used isn't very fun. Most people that used me are dead now. Only reason the rest aren't is because I stopped doing what they wanted."
"I know, and Clint, you have a damn good reason to want to kill him. But I did not almost get my ass handed to me in gold plating by Fury just so you could strangle Loki on the first day he is here."
"He tries anything, and he's dead."
"Fine. Jesus christ Nat, how can you drink black coffee?"
Romanoff chuckles before taking a long drink as she walks out.
She wishes she would be the one taking Loki to the tower. No doubt they would send someone with a grudge against him, they'd be lucky if he got here conscious. Sighing, she makes her way to the over extravagant entertainment room. Claiming 'her' chair again, Natasha kicks up in it sideways, her legs swinging over the edge. Reaching for the remote, she clicks the T.V on for ambiance. Far from focusing on it, she knows that being around Loki at all today would be an awful idea. The last thing he needs right now is to remember how she put him in his place, however satisfying it was. That isn't a problem, it's too easy to avoid people for her.
Clint is the issue.
If he didn't restrain himself, Loki would be dead within the hour and S.H.I.E.L.D would be on their backs about wasting such great potential for new research.
There's no way to just tell someone to just get over something like that though. Unless you are an ignorant jerk.
"What are you watching?" Bruce walked into the room, groggy and hair a mess, tapping away notes into his Stark Tablet.
"Horrible reality T.V."
"Hm. Mind if I join you? I have some things to work on."
"Not at all." Drinking from her cup, she closes her eyes, trying to get a handle on the situation. After a few moments, she opens her eyes again."What do you think about Loki coming here?"
His movements stop for a slight moment, before setting the tablet down beside him. "It's not ideal. Better than him staying on the Helicarrier though."
"Yeah. I just have no idea how to keep Clint from slicing his throat the minute he steps in the tower."
"I hate to sound like Tony here but...we'll have to wing it. Hope that he won't."
"Ugh."
"I know."
Loki remains quiet for the rest of the trip. He wants to save his voice, for who knows how long it would be until it was trashed into nothing.
In short-he is terrified.
His time with the Chitauri is dim and faded, but he knows from his nightmares what happened. Memories sear his mind as hot as the brands they burned him with. Sometimes he thinks he still feels the red metal.
With his vision blocked for the moment, he is utterly vulnerable. For all Loki knows, he might not be even be 'relocating' anywhere. They could be toying with him, to use against him later.
Ice cold shivers drip their way down his back.
"Five minutes till arrival." Loki jumps at the new voice. He hadn't known she was on the transport, which makes him wonder how many others are present.
"Looks like I'll finally get rid of you." His escort sits next to him, and he scoffs.
"I'll miss you dreadfully." He'll definitely miss this, at least knowing he is at the moment, safe.
"God I hate you."
Loki smiles genuinely. "Most people do."