important note!

Chapter 1 tm 26 have been fully re-edited.
Chapter 29 and 30 have also been re-edited, some changes were made, things were added. I highly recommend reading these two again.
Chapter 27 and 28 still need to be on the list now to be worked out before i post chapter 32.

But yeah! i'm back to business, thank you so much everybody for waiting. Really i could kiss you guys for being so patient.

disclaimer: i still do not own marvel

Chapter 31

Smooth stone walls and a cold cement floor awaited Loki when full awareness returned. Without opening his eyes, he took stock of his injuries before attempting to move. He would gather what information he could before revealing that he was conscious. He could feel bandages wrapped his chest and shoulder and countless small cuts and bruises marking his limbs. Walking on bare feet in the underground tunnels had apparently taken its toll and even his freezing cold skin could not protect him from gaining these blemishes. A tired, aching sigh escaped his cracked lips when he tried to shift his body in a more comfortable position. The familiar, throbbing pain caused a sense of déjà vu, harkening back to his first horrendous days as a human on Midgard.

Loki tried to recall the events after Anthony's rescue. Never before had his excellent memory failed him, yet all he could bring to mind were flashes of images and sounds. He remembered heated arguments between the three remaining Avengers, their voices loud and angry as men moved him away from the scene. There had been bright light blinding his sight and a stranger assessing the damage his body had taken. More than anything, Loki remembered misery and exhaustion.

At least he had ascertained that his injury was disinfected and bound in a correct manner. Gone was the stench of sewers and their waste - even his hair felt clean when his fingers ran through it. Slowly the trickster stood up, careful not to aggravate his trauma further as he surveyed what was yet another holding cell. Behind him stood a narrow camp bed covered with a grey wool blanket. The kind that caused your body to itch all over if it touched your bare skin. Nevertheless, Loki felt inclined to listen when his body practically demanded he return to the bed to rest. It was in with that motion that Loki discovered the only way out of his confinement. A bored sigh escaped him; surely they did not think this would stop him?

A transparent ceiling was suspended around eleven feet above him, forming the the most probable, and likely only, way in or out. This wasn't a jail it was a pit in the ground. He was confined like a wild animal. Well, at least there was solid ground under his feet instead of a wide expanse of pure air. Loki inspected the rest of his surroundings while trying to find a less unpleasant way to sit. The walls had no seams or rough edges that could be used as a hold to cross the short distance from floor to ceiling. The room was unusually hot as well, a precaution Loki assumed was to keep him from reverting to his other form.

There was a bucket of fresh water and a bowl of unhealthy grey-coloured substance likely passing as food. Even if the gruel looked distasteful, his stomach was craving sustenance, so Loki took the risk and tried a spoonful. It was as he imagined an abomination not worthy of being called edible, but it lessened his appetite by a fraction. He idly wondered if his colder nature would be successful against the heat, but he doubted that any such attempt could be made soon. His injured physique demanded rest. Sleep was calling to him like alluring siren's song.

His dreams were filled with images of Anthony, the engineer's hands stained with oil and rust as they caressed his sides while laying next to one another. When Loki awoke, alone in his cell, he realized how much he missed the enthusiastic man and the coffee brought to him as a peace offering. Loki almost admitted that he missed home, for that was what he had come to call the tower.

I have a home.

He couldn't stop the sad smile from forming. This wretched planet was the cause of all his most dire losses and still, after he had lost everything, it had given him something in return. He supposed it wasn't entirely fair to view the whole of Midgard as insects. Certainly, there were exceptions, the low creatures who fed on others like leeches. A large part of the population, the mediocre, still blindly followed rules others imposed upon them, no matter how preposterous. After time spent as one of them, Loki could distinguish those people who transcended this barrier, individuals who rose to be great against all odds. Bob was the first he met and recognised, a man with kindness and faith running so deeply that he would accept others without question. He did so regardless of age or heritage, not because he was a naïve fool, it was simply in his character to do so.

Loki's first targetted attempted kill that was not in the midst of battle during the invasion on Midgard had also been such a man, standing up to him with a burning justice in his heart. A grandfather among the fear-filled masses rose to take a stand against him. It took courage and determination to defy a god; some might even call it madness. Loki might have done so himself, but now he called it humanity's strength. They never submitted, even when the situation seemed hopeless to all around them. Humanity's greatest feature was that it never surrendered in any situation.

Neither will I.

The heat was neverending, causing him to sweat and thirst for water constantly. Loki's bandages absorbed his perspiration and soon he found them to clingy and unsanitary. Carefully, he peeled them off slowly, mindful not to tear the crust of his wound. His shoulder seemed to be healing well; there was no infection at all. Any movement, however, seemed strained and slow. He felt sure that during the remaining years of his life, it would bother him at inconvenient moments.

Loki sighed, frustration settling into his very core. How many days has it been since he was taken captive? There was no flow of darkness or light that could provide judgement on the current time. He could only rely on his instincts and they told him to escape and find refuge in a safer location. Mostly, they were telling him to find Anthony, his stubborn engineer. However, not before a few games were played with his captors. They would regret ever putting him in this atrocious housing.

Days like the first one passed, filled with boredom and utter silence. Not once had Loki noticed a guard or other signs of life. Yet one day, he found his bandages refreshed and clean. He detested the idea that he was unaware of strangers surrounding him, that a person could touch him unnoticed was both infuriating and terrifying. During his slumber, the ex-god was like every other mortal - vulnerable. He cursed himself as a fool! The continuing drowsiness and need for somnolence could very well be caused by drugs.

What route, he wondered. Water or food? Either one could be laced with some form of narcotic. For all he knew, it was in the heated, humid air. No, as effective as that would be, Loki knew the potential for the drugs to affect others would be too great. It had to be the water. It was an undeniable necessity; human kind could not survive without enough fluids. The sweltering heat not only prevented him from assuming his Jotun form, it made him long to quench his thirsty, dry throat. He knew he could only gain back his clarity if he stopped drinking. It was a torturous thing to deny his body of what it not only craved, but required. It was a matter of survival: either submit or overcome.

Loki chose the latter, more difficult, option.

It was long hours later that he started to remember more of what had happened in his surroundings: the sounds of shuffling feet while he lay half-awake, questions intoned by a strict voice that rose to annoyance as Loki refused to provide answers. Apparently, Director Fury had "visited" him before during his incarceration. Loki could vaguely recall the look of disdain projected on that one-eyed face. It was a memory that amused him nonetheless as, even drugged and human as he was, Loki's tongue could not be forced. It was one small shred of dignity left in an entirely undignified situation.

It was the loud slam of a closing door that brought him back to final clarity. The noises following told him various things about his confinement. From the slow trembling echo, his location would likely be an open hall, perhaps an abandoned factory or empty hangar used by S.H.I.E.L.D. The fact that he could not remember a long journey meant they must be in close proximity to New York. Approaching footsteps alarmed him and Loki cast away his covering to sit upright. If the fools thought they could keep him unaware for long, they would be surprised to find him ready to face all who dared question him under the assumption his guard was down.

There were two sets of footsteps approaching the edge of his cell, the second being barely detectable, lightfooted. These were likely feminine footsteps. Loki focused on their pace, his mind conjuring visions of his captors. The first had to be Director Fury, who had once sought him for what was a futile interrogation. Whoever followed his fast-paced tread was more wise, a silent predator, and one in a calmer state of mind.

Half a smile crept onto the trickster's face. If his guess was correct, he would gain a connection to the outside world and, handled correctly, he could plant the seeds of doubt, convey a message to eager, perceptive ears. Oh, how he could aggravate Fury now that he was aware once again. The sounds stopped near the edge of "his" pit and Loki raised piercing blue orbs, defiance burning deeply with renewed resolution, to look directly into Fury's eyes.

Fury spoke first. "Finally awake I see, Highness." A smug smile spread across Fury's face as he loomed over the cell.

The blatant use of his sobriquet in such an obviously mocking manner settled poorly under Loki's skin. The use of any name other than his own rarely sat well with him. It had been disconcerting assuming Locke's name as it was, why he let Stark get away with such an action was a conundrum. After a while, he found he had developed a certain fondness for it. Fury's sneer, however, made him clench his jaw in anger. He would not deign to let his appearance show how uncomfortable he truly was with this blatant and unwarranted familiarity.

Fury's voice practically echoed in the chamber. "You are a sly one, I'll hand you that. I almost thought we lost your trail." A silent Motherfucker, I got you now! hung in the air. His enemy did not voice it, yet his stance made it very clear. "And then you show up in the middle of my territory. You're making my job too easy, Odinson."

Loki would not have that victorious look stay on that one-eyed cretin for long. "Oh, well, my most sincere apologies." His voice dripped with sincerity and atonement, a pleasant undertone of venom notwithstanding. "Had I known the stench of those vile tunnels was yours, I would have gladly avoided them. Tell me, were you aware there was a large rodent infestation in your basement?" The trickster's words were pointed directly at Fury. Their meaning, however, was for the person standing outside his field of vision.

"Shut your trap, Odinson! The only questions I want answered are mine." Fury was on the verge of shouting as he strode around the boundary of Loki's cell.

This reaction was all Loki needed to know his thoughts were accurate. "Suddenly, I don't feel inclined to have a conversation anymore. It was rather one-sided." The seed of doubt had been placed by now; all that was needed was another push. S.H.I.E.L.D. was not as good at keeping secrets as they thought. It was a practise Loki had perfected aeons ago and unravelling the puzzle before him was no more than a child's game.

"Unless, of course," Loki continued, as if a thought had suddenly occurred to him, "you are here to convey your thanks. During my well-willed endeavours, I did manage to rid you of quite a number of pests." No longer did Loki look in Fury's direction - getting rid of the dirt under his fingernails seemed considerably more important. "If that is indeed the case, you could start by providing me proper bedding." The subjects of food and water to quench his hunger and thirst were not even mentioned.

Fury scoffed in disdain at his valid suggestion. "The only thing you're getting in here is a permanent sauna." He scowled and pointed his finger at Loki. "Don't mess with me. You aren't a god anymore. You're not even human, just some poor excuse of a monster."

Loki merely smiled, the harsh edge of mayhem turning his grin dark. "You will not hold me forever in this pit." Thirst was starting to affect him and he knew signs of dehydration would emerge shortly. It has been at least a day since he last relieved his desire for a drink. The heat was a constant reminder he needed water to survive. It was a cruelly effective trick to put sedatives in something so vitally essential.

The expression on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s director didn't change. "I don't respond well to threats, but you get that one for free. You can't out. Do you have any idea how weak and exhausted you look right now?" Fury turned his back on him, his voice ringing out as he walked away, "Have a drink. It might make you feel better."

Loki heard only a single set of footsteps retreating and, for a moment, thought he had imagined the second set. It wasn't until he picked up the sliding noise of a shoe sole that dragged a second too long on the ground that he knew his words had been heard and taken into account. A painful sigh of exhaustion escaped him when sat further back onto the cot. Silently, Loki thanked this rather unlikely ally as her near-silent footfalls followed Fury's.

His fingertips curled around a plastic cup half-filled with water, longing for its contents. To be so reliant on something small for survival could very well prove disastrous now, yet he drank the cup empty. He lay back, feeling the bitter taste of sedatives along his tongue. His future now lay in the hope that Natasha Romanoff heard the unshakable truth lingering in his words.

Yes i know,i have been gone for to long.

Fortunately my deadline is over, free time is once again upon me!

Massive thanks goes out to swordmisstress, who was so generous to go over all chapters and help me edit it. She also beta'd this chapter !
Imaginary chocolates are being sent out as we speak.