Max stayed where she was long after Johnny left. The group discussed the probabilities of the mission, analyzing all the possible outcomes. Some of them made Sue visibly uncomfortable, and by the end of it, she simply looked exhausted. For the most part, Loki kept to himself. He interjected twice to correct any assumptions made about alien intelligence, but otherwise he loitered at the far edge of the group. Eventually, Reed insisted they wait it out on the upper levels of the tower—it wasn't going to do them any good wasting away in the shadows. Besides, they could keep a better watch for Johnny's inevitable return from the windows that faced in the general direction of David's Island—a thought that seemed to make Sue brighten somewhat.

But Max stayed there. She smiled weakly at Peter when he met her gaze, and she waited until the basement level had cleared. No one called to her or Loki, and no one bothered to offer a ride back to the top. Instead, they were given the privacy that she seemed to think they needed, and she waited until the echoes stopped before facing him.

However, before she could say her bit, the words that had been frothing at the tip of her tongue for the better part of twenty minutes now, he cut her off. Pushing himself off the wall, he strode toward her, eyebrows furrowed and lips in a deep frown.

"You cannot seriously be angry with me for keeping such a thing from you."

Her mouth fell open, and for a moment she just stared at him, dumbstruck.

"Excuse me?"

"I had every reason—"

"They were in my town," she hissed, pointing out vaguely into the darkness. "They were practically on my doorstep, and you think that it's okay that you didn't bother to tell me anything—"

"And what would you have had me say?" Loki spat. He shook his head at her, smiling a smile that lacked warmth, and then scoffed. "I had a difficult enough time sharing that first secret with you, as you might recall."

Max bit her lip, swallowing down the emotion that the memory stirred within her. She took a step back, arms folded and head held high. It was so easy to think back to it—to the Big Lie, to the argument, to the desperation the followed once he was gone. She felt like an idiot for so many things: for trusting him, for insulting him, for sending him away. Months passed and she still thought about that conversation, about how many things were left unsaid.

And now he just dropped it into the conversation like it was nothing to begin with?

"Yeah, let's dissect that secret, shall we?" she snapped. "We never really got to finish what we started there."

"Why drudge up something like that, Max?" The sigh that tumbled from his flared nostrils made her purse her lips—she never knew air could sound so patronizing, so tiresome. "It's long behind us now."

"So it doesn't matter?" She threw her hands up and started to pace, practically stomping across the cement flooring. "It's been a couple of years, so, fuck it, why bother discussing it?"

"Do we ever discuss anything?"

"No!" The word echoed in the room, perhaps up the elevator shaft, and Loki looked momentarily taken aback. However, he recovered faster than ever, and his expression cooled rapidly. "No, we never do, and maybe we should start—"

"Start with the one thing that will surely be the end to our… our…" He started strong, but floundered toward the end, his hand waving as he undoubtedly tried to find the right words. Max continued to stalk back and forth, her hands now on her hips.

"Our what?"

"It's done now," he said, his voice soft enough to catch her attention. "It's over… We've both suffered since then, and I'd rather not discuss it."

She stopped in front of him, careful to keep her distance. "Why didn't you tell me about the aliens?"

His gaze started on the ground, and then it slowly made its way up her frame, stopping at her knees, her hands, and finally her eyes.

"I would have, in time," he told her. He finally moved, taking a step toward her, and when he reached for her hands, she didn't flinch away. Instead, she gripped his cool ones tightly, the tip of her fingers sliding between his long digits. "I would have told you everything. I had wanted you to come with me… away from this realm, from everything. I would have told you my life…"

Under the weight of his stare, she licked her lips, fidgeting at their clasped hands.

"Why didn't you?" The anger started to fade, to drift away.

"Because you'd never have me then."

She exhaled lightly as her stomach knotted, though she didn't understand the cause of the discomfort. In that moment, she wasn't sure what she was supposed to feel—pity or anger or sadness or regret? What she did feel was a mix of everything, meshed in with her love, which she had pushed down and tucked away ever since she became aware of its existence.

"What makes you think I'll have you now?"

"Come, Max," he whispered, leaning forward and pressing his forehead to hers. "I know you won't have me now."

After a pause, she kissed him, tilting her head up to press her lips to his. At this point, she wasn't even sure what it meant to have him. Was it supposed to be forever? Was it temporary? Did he even want her to have him? He hadn't indicated otherwise—he hadn't ever admitted to anything, really.

The kiss quickly grew frantic, desperate, and Max wrapped her arms around his neck, standing up on her tip-toes to have some equal footing. His eyes were clenched closed, eyebrows still knitted, and he looked like he was in pain—an expression she would never understand when they kissed. She almost stopped, but the hand in her hair held her there, firm and persistent. Her skin prickled when his other hand slipped under her shirt, spreading across her lower back and dipping beneath her pants.

A sharp intake of breath. Max pulled away first, breathing in and out shakily, and nuzzled her face against his cheek—she wished he was warmer. Loki continued to grasp her hair, his hand buried and knotted in it, and then started down her chin, kissing and nipping and licking until he reached the hollow of her throat. Desire swelled within her, but she stopped him when he started to tug at her pants, getting them just over her hipbone before she set her hand under his chin. She wasn't strong enough to make him look at her—she couldn't force him to do it. Still, he glanced up at his request, swallowing thickly.

She hadn't stopped him because she was on the tail-end of her period. Well, technically she had, because that wasn't really her thing, but she wasn't going to give that as her only reason. He must have known—she could feel him loosening his grip on her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she murmured, knotting her fingers together behind his neck. She couldn't keep him there, just as she couldn't lift him, but he stayed all the same, hands resting on her hips.

"I did what I needed to do to protect you," he said, his voice stiff despite their intimacy. "I dispensed with the creature before it could take another human, and I searched the town for more. When I found none, I saw to your continued safety from an appropriate distance almost daily." He paused, shaking his head. "What more must I say?"

She thought for a moment, and then sighed. "Nothing."

He pressed his lips to her forehead, not really kissing, and then breathed out the word, "Good."

"I want you to tell me about it sometime," Max continued as her hands slid down to his shoulders, then his chest. "About your life."

He made a bit of a face. "Max…"

"It doesn't have to be right now." She wrapped her arms around his waist, her head now resting on his shoulder. "Whenever you want… However much you want."

The silence dragged on between them for a long time after. They stood together, holding one another, and he felt tense in her arms. However, he finally let out a little sigh, and then spoke in her ear.

"As you wish."

She nodded, and then let him kiss her quickly—once, twice, three times. She wanted to know the actual Loki, not the façade of one she lived with for a few months a couple years ago. Max wanted to know the man in front of her, and just as he had seen her grief, she wanted to be let in to his—the good and the bad. As he held her there, beneath the hazy yellow glow of the flickering lightbulbs, she decided that she would take whatever he had for her with no opinions or judgment, and when this was over, and they were back to reality, she might press him for more. She might then ask the real questions that she wanted to know. For now, there was no sense in breaking their bubble, in puncturing their truce—what good would it do for either of them?

Thor enjoyed Oslo, but he wished he had spent his time there with a different purpose. Of all the nations in the northern part of the realm, he liked Norway the best—and perhaps for obvious, biased reasons. Iceland was a close second, but Jane too seemed to prefer the noise that a larger city brought, particularly when she had no real work to focus on.

Two years ago, after Loki disappeared and fell silent to the ears of many, Thor relocated. He left America at the behest of his friends at S.H.I. ., and at Captain America's request, he stepped up to lead agents across the European nations against the invading Pagurolids. For those two years, the utmost importance of keeping everything a secret was drilled into his head from all sides. They could not cause a panic, he was told—there would be mass hysteria amongst the peoples, and that would lead to violence, segregation, and possible outbursts of war.

Thor thought they needed a little violence. He wanted to make a scene, to show the vile creatures that he was hunting them, and would one day successfully exterminate their kind. Unfortunately, that was not how the humans wished to do things, and while he was the figurehead of the northern nations, Thor quickly learned that he had very little real power in the political game. Jane called all the needless charades "espionage"—Thor called it cowardice.

When an alien did turn up, and it bled black onto the metal floors and walls of an interrogation room, Thor was called in to destroy it—and he did his duty with pleasure. These creatures had no honour, no dignity, and he would see them buried back in the dark corner of the universe from whence they came.

Jane traveled wherever he went, and their love blossomed despite the tediousness of the secret service agency at his back. Darcy and Eric Selvig, both of whom Thor held above the rest, were also dragged from country to country. Sometimes he wondered if they wished that he had never met them—that they might have stability. However, they never made a fuss, and when the real war came, they were glad to be in lockdown. Jane Foster's father, as she had no other family, was assigned an agent from S.H.I. . at Thor's request—the woman posed as a caretaker at the man's retirement home. Thus far, he was said to be safe, but communications coming out of the American continent were spotty at best.

A month ago, the aliens tried to flood out of hiding across the world. There was no time for secrecy, and Thor finally stepped forth to take proper command of his team. He ordered major cities to be in an immediate shutdown. He called in all military—both active and inactive soldiers of a certain age bracket—across the continent to fight. He made public broadcasts when the televisions worked detailing what was happening, and why people could no longer trust their neighbours. He sent out teams of doctors to blood men and women in the streets. Militias formed. Government officials faced intense questioning. Those who wouldn't be blooded were arrested.

It was cruel, but thus far, he had avoided total war. Jane called it a militant state of emergency—Thor called it a necessity. Pagurolids were to be arrested and executed—though they must be twice confirmed through S.H.I.E.L.D. and other secret service protocols.

He settled in Oslo two weeks ago, and the mayor offered him and his party rooms in the royal palace as a gesture of goodwill. Thor agreed, though he was quite disappointed with the state of the palace—if one could even call it that. There were rooms aplenty, and within the week, S.H.I.E.L.D. had turned the building into their private headquarters. Jane and Darcy seemed happy to be staying in one place with such intensive security. Thor felt restless. Eric had been commandeered long ago by the agency.

Global communication remained difficult. He had only been able to contact Agent Romanoff and Bruce Banner in the east—no one else on his team. He would have preferred to discuss future tactics with everyone, but considering Stark's region was a void of nothingness and Captain America was losing the Americas, he thought he had done fairly well. Most major cities across Europe were secured—heavily militarized with curfews and fortified at every entrance, but for now, they were free from Pagurolid scourge. The countryside, unfortunately, was a different matter. There was so much of it, and they still had some time to go before every horrible creature was rooted out of hiding and exterminated.

Oslo's borders had barricades of steel around them. The two coastlines had an extensive naval presence, lined with official military members and civilian militias. Hospitals worked overtime. There were crowds waiting to be admitted to the city from smaller towns, preferring the guaranteed protection Thor's temporary regime offered.

"Darcy, you can't keep asking for pastries for breakfast." He smiled when he heard Jane's chastisement in the other room. He stood in front of the mirror of his bathroom, staring at his reflection. The hour was near.

"Why not?"

"They have zero nutritional value, for one thing…"

"So?"

"Darcy."

He chuckled under his breath, and then let out a heavy sigh. Squaring his shoulders, he finally turned and swept out of the room, gently pushing the door open as to not startle either of them.

The quarters were lavishly furnished, despite the problems the world currently faced. Thor thought the decorations were a necessity, though Jane had scoffed openly at them on their first night in their new room. Thor was a royal living in a royal's home: there ought to be pomp and ceremony. It was a notion foreign to Jane, unfortunately, and he knew he would never persuade her otherwise.

Darcy's chambers linked directly with theirs, annoyingly enough, and the woman had the most obtrusive persona these days. Thor would never blame her, nor would he send her away. Darcy, like many others, was frightened of the things happening in her world. Should she wish to calm herself with unnecessary visits and pastries and sweets, Thor saw no reason to scold her, no matter what Jane thought.

"I think we should ask for something small," Jane argued, her hand on her stomach as Thor approached. "They're overfeeding us as it is."

"I'm living in a palace," Darcy sneered. Thor dropped his head down to press a chaste kiss to Jane's cheek, which she leaned into willingly. "Therefore I should theoretically be eating pie for every meal. In lieu of that…"

"What do you think we should have?" Jane asked, shifting at the edge of the bed to face him properly. He knew what she wanted him to say, and he watched her eyebrows knit together when he smirked.

"I will eat whatever is placed in front of me."

"Ugh," Jane groaned as Darcy gave her triumphant cackle. She shoved him away and stood up, smoothing out her sweater. She looked quite fetching in cotton pajama pants, particularly ones that were too long and gathered beneath her feet.

"But I'm afraid I cannot join you at the moment," he told her, watching Darcy flit off toward the extravagant—and clearly remodeled—double doors that led to the outer hallway. "It's almost nine."

"Thor." Jane's voice was soft, but not cautious—she never had to fear anything she had to say to him. "You don't have to go to every single one of them."

"Of course I do," he insisted. He retrieved his red cloak, which hung over a chair near the window, and clipped it to his shoulders. It billowed behind him as he strode forth. "I delivered their final sentence."

"S.H.I.E.L.D. did that." She crossed her arms and exhaled noisily. "Governments do that. You—"

"I am to lead," Thor mused, pausing at the doorway to give her one final look. "Not everything about it is easy, Jane."

She looked like she wanted to say more, but he left before she could utter another word. He nodded to Darcy in the hall as he passed, though she too hadn't the time to get a word in. His feet found their way to the front of the palace, passed servants and agents and men of all rank. No one said a thing to him, and as he marched into the balcony that overlooked the palace courtyard, he felt a heaviness on his shoulders.

The palace was surrounded by greenery—trees on all sides. The courtyard before the main gate used to be occupied by guards and tourists, and now served as Oslo's execution grounds. These public killings were recorded, though Thor had never seen them play on a television screen—he wondered what was done with the tape. Each morning, the stones were awash with black blood, and each afternoon they were scrubbed clean.

He stood between two great pillars, his hands resting on the stone balcony. Before him were four rows of men and women, twenty to each line. Their hands were bound, and for the sake of their executioners, they all wore black hoods. Pagurolids lurked inside the vessels, perhaps in a state of panic. He listened to the soldiers load their weapons, and the commander of their unit looked to Thor for the signal. He nodded, his expression grave—and then the shots rang out. The first line fell, then the second, then the third, and finally the fourth.

Black, viscous liquid oozed across the bright stonework. Thor watched the bodies as they were dragged off. There were three more sets like this to do before he could leave, and he wanted to watch them all. These were once humans—good, bad, or otherwise, and they had no reason to die such an awful death. He could only hope that this punishment was just: the bullets were shot through the breastbone and into the creatures directly. The bodies were then to be beheaded and burned in another location.

So many lost children, taken by the selfishness of other beings. He looked skyward as the next batch were set in a line. How could the All-father allow for such needless slaughter? Did Asgard not have some sort of responsibility to defend the weak and hapless against invaders such as Pagurolids?

His frown deepened when the next round of shots rang out in the otherwise silent courtyard. This should never have come to pass.

Johnny returned two moves into a chess match with Franklin. Loki was up in the boy's room when Max came to fetch him, and he was forced to leave the game to satisfy his curiosity. The man had been gone for almost five hours at that point, and after watching Sue fret in front of the window for the better part of an hour earlier in the day, the rest of the tower's residents flitted off to do something else. Loki would have liked to sit somewhere with Max, preferably in silence, to let the weight of their previous conversation settle, but he noticed she was somewhat distracted after—and he thought it better that he let her be distracted away from him.

So, while she volunteered to help Sue clean the kitchen—as a thanks for the woman's role in planning Nolan's celebration a few days earlier—and the Spider lingered in the background, Loki decided it was as good a time as any for a lesson. After all, the boy's mother had sat in on one occasion thus far, and she seemed perfectly accepting of what Loki did in that time period. There was no radical talk or dangerous ideas thrown about—they simply played chess. He had grown better at the game, and he used his skill to frustrate the boy: that was when his power truly shone.

Loki could feel it in the air. The angrier Franklin grew, the denser the matter around them felt. He hadn't been able to move anything yet, but they were still in the early days of Loki's teachings, and he continued to try to be patient. Today, however, he had far too much on his mind to give the boy the proper focus he deserved.

He didn't want to tell Max about his past. Well, he did and he didn't. The failures were humiliating, and the horror might send her running. She was earnest in her request—he could see it in her eyes—and she had moved away from her frustration over his previous deceits quick enough. Still, there was a curious sense of unease between them, and Loki hadn't the slightest idea how to change it.

He held her hand as they hurried down to the laboratory, off to meet with the returned hero. Clasped hands were a sign of affection in the realm, and he thought she might appreciate it. She clutched at him in return, but it seemed that she was more or less pulling him around rather than holding him for the sake of intimacy. What was he supposed to do here? How was he supposed to treat her in this strange limbo they found themselves in?

The room stunk of the sewer when they entered, and he noticed that Johnny's suit was drenched in filth. Otherwise, he appeared relatively unharmed—he even smiled as Reed carefully unpacked his bag, arms folded over his chest.

"They chased me through the sewers," the man explained. Max released Loki's hand and hurried over to inspect the goods with the rest of them, nibbling on her lower lip. "I actually lost them when some random gang came out of nowhere and started shooting."

"How was Stark?" Ben's voice rumbled from the other side of the table. The large creature seemed careful not to touch anything, but even his stony features expressed immense curiosity.

"It seemed like he was drunk."

"Seriously?" Max seemed surprised by the announcement, but the rest of them were unmoved. Perhaps they simply knew better.

"I mean, sober enough to fly and deliver," Johnny continued with a shrug. "That's all that matters, I guess."

Loki remained in the background, watching the super-humans fawn over the supplies Stark had bestowed upon them. Reed seemed quite focused in that moment, setting each ingredient out with infinite care. The Spider hovered nearby, handling a few of the bulkier goods, and Sue seemed to be stressing over a few gashes on Johnny's face.

"I'm fine," he muttered, trying to brush her away, but the look she shot him made him stop.

Reed held up a vial of liquid, squinting at it beneath a light, and then shook his head.

"This isn't enough."

"It can be duplicated with the recipe," Johnny said. "He didn't give us all the stuff though… We have to do some shopping first."

Loki rolled his eyes and started to pace—of course Stark would fall short. He knew that the man's successes against him had to be some sort of luck-based endeavor.

"We have two of these things," Reed said, holding a notebook in hand, "but the rest we'll need to find elsewhere."

"Stark suggested Oscorp."

"Good thing you've got a summer intern on hand," Peter offered. He stepped forth and peered over Reed's shoulder. "I know there are definitely a few of these in storage."

He tried to hide his smile as the team worked through an array of possible scenarios in which they could get their extra necessities. Things were moving quickly now, and Reed called for action within the day. After Johnny informed them of Stark's success with the formula, it seemed even more imperative that they no longer wait.

"Loki and Ben and me can get our test subjects," Johnny said after Reed arbitrarily decided that tomorrow was the day to begin collecting. "Shouldn't be too difficult."

"Loki shouldn't be in public." It was Max who spoke up, and he arched an eyebrow at her. She licked her lips, appearing somewhat flushed. "They'll be on the lookout for you."

"We need the strength to get as many as we need," Johnny argued. "Peter can swing by Oscorp to get the rest of the goods. Maybe Sue can keep the whole thing covert—"

"I need Sue here," Reed said suddenly, cutting the man off. "I can't… This recipe is complicated, and it needs to be perfect on the first trial."

The Spider seemed somewhat put off at the prospect of losing his invisibility, but said nothing of it.

"I can go with Peter." Loki closed his eyes as Max spoke, and then shook his head.

"No."

She looked at him sharply, and then let out a huff. "I can help—"

"No," he repeated. "You'll stay here until the task is done."

"I'm not useless," she said, her voice trembling a little. She looked to the rest of the room, but no one seemed willing to speak on her behalf. "I'm good with a gun… I… Guns and weapons are what I do for a living. I'm a good shot."

"It's not up for discussion, Max," Loki told her. He would have preferred to have the conversation in private, away from the unwilling audience, but she seemed as though she wanted to press the issue. "The Spider is more than capable of looking after himself."

She wouldn't look at him. Her eyes bounced to each person around her, and Loki stepped forward, taking her gently by the arm. He couldn't stand the thought of her in combat. Yes, she had proved herself worthy in their initial escape, but there was no reason to needlessly throw herself in harm's way in order to feel like she was a part of something. He would be able to concentrate better on the task at hand if he knew she was secured somewhere.

"It's too dangerous for you to—"

"I can do something," she snapped, pulling her arm away and exhaling. "I can do… more than just… Please."

The room grew quiet, and the only noise that broke the spell was the sound of Reed shifting ingredients around. Max looked to each one of her companions again, eyes wide and imploring, and then finally back at him. He wanted to make her happy—and today that would be agreeing to her foolhardy desires. Unfortunately, he couldn't. He wouldn't be responsible for her demise, especially if he wasn't there to prevent it.

His shoulders slumped somewhat, and he let out a little sigh.

"No."

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

HELLO DARLINGS! Thank you for all your well wishes in your reviews from the last update. I'm feeling much better now, though I have no idea wtf happened to me. Whatever. Bodies are silly like that, I guess. Fingers crossed nothing goes wrong on my vacation!

YES. Vacation. Like I've been saying, I'm trying to get two updates in before I leave next week, and I'm kind of on schedule. That being said, these updates aren't quite as long as I would like them to be—for the sake of speedy updating—and this one in particular I'm not super happy with, but it's not horrible—in my eyes, anyway. I had a suuuper fun time writing Thor again, and I drew a lot of inspiration from the recent movie on the way he might handle a leadership role in this scenario. Everyone seems to be taking a different approach, and I thought that Thor would be the type to get tough (but fair) with things.

Nothing too much to report on this end from me. I'm basically posting this and then starting the next update straight after. I've been roped in to cook a Christmas dinner that I thought I could just show up to tonight and eat, so… that's cutting into my time. I JUST WANT TO BE LAZY AND EAT AND LEAVE. Ah well.

LOVE YOU ALL! Fingers crossed that I'll have the next update out before next Wednesday, which is when I'm off for my holiday. SEE YOU SOON!