A/N: Sorry for the short-ish chapter; it's been a busy week. :/

On Asgard, there is a saying: 'Any creature can know Death, or be familiar with Pain. But there is not a creature alive who knows the true meaning of Fear.'

I'd always found it a rather interesting idea, being fairly well acquainted with all three. I didn't adopt it as a personal philosophy or anything, but it was something I toyed with on occasion, or discussed with the spies (who were also very familiar with such subjects). From what I could gather, the basic idea was that you can accept Pain and Death, but you can only ever try to 'accept' and rid yourself of fear. Even if you are truly 'fearless', it isn't because you understand fear. You simply allow yourself to believe that it is pointless. You can say that you 'faced' your fears all you wish; in truth, you are only ever managing them. Fear is a living creature. It breathes, it lives. It is inside of you at all times; festering and breeding nightmares.

And, like many living creatures, its motivation can be questionable; and thus, impossible to understand.

An intriguing notion, in its own right. I thought it was interesting.

Loki thought it was utterly ridiculous.

Because Loki knew pain-better than anyone else did, better than anyone thought he did- and he most certainly knew Death. But he believed that he could very safely say that he understood the truest, basest meaning of Fear.

For it was what he was feeling right now.

Loki sat in the very heart and center of his prison, his cell, his cage. He was seated on the floor, curled in a ball, his arms wrapped around his legs, holding them tightly against his body. His back pressed against the chair behind him, and every so often, he would jump, his gaze whipping towards the darkness that surrounded him, the lurked and lingered outside of his island of light. He imagined a thousand different sounds from inside of the darkness and pressed his palms against his ears in an effort to drown them out, his fingers entangling in his hair. He squeezed his eyes shut desperately, trying to block out the images of the nightmares that still lingered behind them, but every time he did so, they would only boil behind his eyelids. A thousand screaming, raging pictures in his mind of blood and death and the most hideous of smiles, sick laughter reverberating inside of his head as pain burned in a familiar pattern on his shoulder blades, a pattern he knew all too well…

The rest of Asgard slept peacefully. Even I was sleeping, splayed out in an odd angle on my bed, far away on Midgard, ignorant of his current predicament. The entire universe was ignorant, just as he wished for it to be, and yet, he had never wanted help so desperately in all of his life…

Curling even tighter in on himself, nightmares dancing behind his eyes every time he closed them, Loki began to tremble violently, his heart racing as he found it more and more difficult to pull air into his lungs. He shook so badly that the entire world seemed to shatter around him, no longer still but moving and alive.

This, he recalled, is the true meaning of fear.

And of course, he would know. Because he knew her.

A sob forced its way out of his throat, unbidden and unwanted, the sound splintering a web of cracks in the still night. A childish notion came to him at that moment, the idea that the ghosts and ghouls and fiends of the night would know where he was because of that sound, because he had allowed that sob to

escape him, and he trembled all the harder…

"Please," He pleaded, shaking so badly that even the words trembled as they bled into the dark, silent night air. He feared the sounds they made and yet he could not keep them contained. "Please," he repeated. "Not her… Not here… not now…"

He continued begging, without knowing who he wished to answer. No one, in either his world or mine, was awake. And even if they were… who would listen? Who would care?

No one had ever cared before…

But still, he found himself begging. Because he was too terrified to stop.

"Please," Tears squeezed out of his eyes as he closed them ever tighter. "Let Fraye be anyone… anything… but her."

Over the next few days, it became immediately clear exactly how tightly Fraye had the Avengers wrapped around her tiny little finger. They went out of their way to take care of her, to help her with anything she needed… she was never wanting for anything, was always watched closely… But it went way beyond that.

It amazed me, how perfectly she managed to peg everyone, how she managed to hit them right where they lived. The 'monster' thing was thrown around me a lot, and I always gushed and cooed over her in response, though my heart would turn colder each and every time. She called Banner her 'Uncle Brucey', and paid attention to every one of his science speeches, looking as though she was trying desperately hard to understand. I was surprised with how many times she managed to say, "Don't get angry, Uncle Brucey" without him suspecting anything. I didn't know how the hell she knew about the whole 'anger issues' thing, but obviously she did.

Around Tony, well… she had this incredibly infectious little laugh, and Stark would go out of his way to hear it. He was constantly joking, making his usual material a little cleaner, more innocent, and a lot more kiddy. Whenever Fraye clapped and squealed with giggles, he would grin like a maniac, like the sun had just come up for the first time in a century of darkness.

Even the spies loved her; I'd see them playing card games with them, see her kick her feet back and forth excitedly as Clint talked about archery. She even asked them, in the way that only little kids can get away with, if the two of them were getting married; and instead of freaking out, they actually laughed.

My perception of the universe had officially been screwed with.

But I could deal with all of this. I could handle all of it. Until she found a picture of Steve and his old group of soldiers; as well as Peggy Carter. Long story short, after a heartbreaking moment of tears, he ended up back in the gym, decimating punching bags.

But when he'd been crying… he'd held Fraye so close, clung to her so tightly… and I knew that she was a liar, knew that it was all playing pretend… My hands clenched into tight fists, my blood boiling… but I kept my mouth shut.

At first.

But the second I saw my chance, I took it.

It happened when Fraye, Bruce, and I were sitting in the same room together, with Fraye studiously reading. After a while, however, she seemed to get mildly bored; her eyes started wandering, her hands tapping restless rhythms, and finally she decided that she wanted to do something else. She glanced up at where Banner was working at a computer.

"I'm gonna go downstairs now, okay Uncle Brucey?" she asked him in a bright tone.

Banner hesitated. "I'm kinda in the middle of something, Fraye," he said slowly. I was sitting at the other end of the room, my nose in a book; of which I had read the same line probably fifty times now, without taking in a single word. My ears perked as Bruce explained his dilemma to the little girl.

"It's cool, Bruce," I said, setting my still-open book down on its pages. "I'll take her." We hadn't been leaving her alone, just in case the shadows came back again. They'd made a few appearances in the past few days, but no overly coordinated attacks; just quick attempts to grab Fraye and run; of which all had been thwarted.

"Okay, Nat'lee," Fraye said with a big, happy grin. Bruce nodded in agreement distractedly as she jumped off of her seat and skipped up to me, reaching up to link her hand in mine. I took her tiny hand and walked to the elevator with her while she gushed about the drawing supplies that Tony had gotten for her, supplies that she was going to use now, because she was just so excited about them. I listened to her, nodding encouragingly, until we were safely in the elevator.

I didn't speak to her until we got out of the elevator, into the hallway of the unoccupied floor that was our destination. Then I whirled on her, eyes crackling.

"Stop it," I ordered. "Just stop it now. I know your game, Fraye. I know what you're doing."

She looked up at me with those wide, innocent eyes. "Wh-What?"

"Don't give me that!" I snarled. "You've been using us all along. Using the Avengers. Using me. You've been lying to us, manipulating us!"

Tears began to swim in those eyes, so black and shining, so big, so desperate for mercy… no one with a heart could look at those eyes without melting…

But right now, I was heartless. And I didn't care.

"Wh…Why would you say that, Nat'lee?" She asked in a weak voice. "I thought… I thought you said I was a good girl…"

"Stop." I said, my tone dark and dead. "Just stop right now. You're lying to me, and it's not going to work." I was suddenly wiped clean of any uncertainty, any hesitation. There was no doubt in my mind that Fraye was not what she appeared to be; I no longer sympathized with her as I once did, no longer viewed her as an innocent little girl… I knew she was a liar. I knew she'd been using us. And nothing would convince me otherwise.

Fraye seemed to see this; after a very, very long moment where she stared into my eyes, tears swimming and flowing down her cheeks… she suddenly blinked, then threw her head back and laughed.

It was a strange laugh; a laugh that seemed far too old for one so young. "Oh, fair enough," She said flippantly, waving an airy hand. "I always knew you'd be a tough sell. So paranoid." She shook her head out, then wiped away the false tears.

I was not as surprised by her sudden transformation as you might think. I had already been so certain of myself, I had already known for sure that she truly was a liar. Her drop of the act simply confirmed it. I folded my arms over my chest, just grateful to have her telling the truth at last.

"It's incredible to me." She went on. "Most humans are a lot more trusting; but you… I don't know what it is."

My eyes narrowed. "I guess I've been burned too many times," I said sarcastically.

She laughed, but shook her head, her black hair whipping back and forth. "No, that's not it. You're just wired differently, Natalie." So the cute little nickname was an act, too. The girl was good at what she did. "Anyone else would've seen a poor, defenseless child and rushed in to save the day; but not you. You wanted to, you tried to, but your true nature won out. Inevitable, I suppose." She shrugged. "It took you long enough, though. I mean, you've known about this for days, and you're only now confronting me?" She sighed theatrically, flipping her hair back. She placed her hands on her hips, her gaze shifting a little, staring deeper into my eyes. Her tone changed; almost as though she was speaking to someone else. But I was the only person here. "I really expected better from you."

"Yeah, well, I expected a lot better from you, too," I snapped. But she just grinned.

"Oh. I wasn't talking to you, mortal," she said, her tone shifting and her gaze refocusing for a second, before it zeroed in on my eyes again. I lifted my eyebrows; she was going straight for the 'mortal' title. Just once, I wished that we'd have an enemy who wasn't immortal, who didn't hold that over everyone else's head…

Her eyes alight, sparkling with childish joy, she giggled and said happily, "I was talking to my favorite little plaything."

The effect on Loki was immediate and drastic. Every one of his muscles suddenly locked into place, completely frozen, petrified. His heartbeat suddenly raced at a thousand miles per hour, and denial screamed in his head, echoing and screaming and reverberating in mine. No. For the love of the realm, not her… not again…

His knees shook, close to buckling. His hands began to tremble so violently that the action was transferred over to me; my fingers began shaking. He couldn't breathe; no matter how hard he tried, he could not breathe…

Never. Not once in my entire life. Had I ever seen Loki this afraid. Oh, I'd seen him mildly frightened, seen him burst out of his nightmares, but this… this was something else. Something… other.

"You're losing your touch," she said slowly, shifting around on her feet. Her eyes flicked back to mine and she smiled wickedly, teeth gleaming in the artificial lamplight. "Lo-ki." She broke apart each syllable of his name, pronouncing them with special emphasis. Even I froze up; we had told her limited things about our powers, but no one had said a word to her about Loki being in my head…

But the instant that Fraye said Loki's name, it was over. His terror burst into me, flowed over me, broke past our mental barriers and flooded me; pure, mortal terror so absolute, so animal, that I could do nothing but react, could do nothing but turn to my instincts. I was suddenly running, running away, running as fast as I could… tearing towards the stairs, racing down them, throwing myself towards the bottom floor of Stark Tower.

I was reduced to nothing but my fear; Loki's fear. It sent me flying, and I could no longer breathe, could no longer think or feel or anything… all I could do was run, and keep running, all I could do was get away as fast as my legs could carry me, ignoring all pain, ignoring the fact that my lungs were about to burst. It didn't matter. None of it mattered.

As I tore out of the Tower and into the streets, my heart pounded in my ears. Pure adrenaline kept me moving, my every footstep fueled with the desperate desire to get away, to stay away from her, from that monster, that foul, loathsome creature… that thing which would murder me in moments, that nightmare that was Fraye…

And all the while, as I ran, Loki remained curled up in the light, motionless, unmoving… running through me, using me to run when he could not, for fear that the darkness would swallow him whole…

I don't know how I did it, but I did not stop running until I reached my house; until I had locked the door behind me and armed myself with the gun that Clint had gotten me for my twentieth birthday. And then I was shaking; quivering in the farthest corner of the house, trembling from head to toe. I doubted I could use the gun if I wanted to, my hands were shaking so badly, but I clutched it tightly to my chest nonetheless, as though it was my lifeline. I was probably too weak to pull the trigger; I was barely strong enough to sit upright. I felt… frail. Like my muscles had been reduced to rubber, my bones to glass…

I stayed like that for a very long time; I'm not sure exactly how long. It could have been hours. It felt like days. But slowly, surely, I managed to pull myself together, to separate my feelings from Loki's, to battle back the fear that threatened to override me again. The shaking slowed. Strength returned to my limbs. I could move again, think again, breathe again.

A slow, creeping irritation set in; I stood, concentrating, then took a single step forwards; the movement sent me rocketing in that same direction and into another world… a projection of myself appeared in Asgard, visible only to Loki, and making him and his cell now visible to me. I hadn't done this many times, usually relying on him to project himself in my head, or simply traveling to Asgard when I wanted to see him. But I'd done it a few times since I'd first discovered I was capable of it, all that time ago…

I was fully intent on yelling, what the hell was that?In his face, fully intent on being angry at him for making me run like that, making me into such a coward… but the instant I caught sight of him, the words died in my throat.

He was curled up in a ball on the ground, his eyes staring out blankly at absolutely nothing. His wiry arms were wrapped around his knees, and he was trembling. A thin sheen of sweat made his paper-white skin glisten in the grey light. His eyes looked hollow, ringed with dark circles.

But perhaps the worst out of all of that… were the tears on his face.

I'd known Loki for more than a year now. I knew most everything that went on in his head. I knew most every one of his darker emotions, knew all of his black imaginings, knew most every one of his fears, his hidden pains… but even then, I'd only ever seen him close to tears once. A single tear, nothing more, had escaped him when I'd told him that I was going to remain in his head, that I was going to keep us linked forever. When I had made him a prisoner in his own mind; at least, that was how he had viewed it. He had turned away from me, had refused to look at me as this moment of weakness bled through, as this single tear had slipped through the cracks of his invincible façade…

But now… now the tears were unrelenting. Unstopping. He was showing the very heart and core of his weakness, not bothering to hide it, not bothering to secret it away in the shadows, to mask his fear. Which meant only one thing; it no longer mattered. And anything that could make Loki forget himself, forget his own arrogant invulnerability… that was truly something to be feared.

All of my anger drained out of me, diminished in a heartbeat. I crouched down next to him, wishing desperately to wrap my arms around him, but I knew that they would simply pass right through. "Loki?" I asked in a soft, gentle, quiet voice. "Loki, what is it? Who is she? What's wrong?"

He did not respond; merely flinched away from my questions, curling in closer on himself. I kept asking questions for a moment, but when it became clear that he wasn't capable of answering, even if he wanted to, I simply sat down next to him, waiting patiently in the silence.

And the tears kept pouring down.

It took a long time for Loki to pull himself together again; a lot longer than it had taken me, but then, it was his fear to begin with. I remained entirely silent the entire time, sitting next to him, cross-legged on the ground. Our roles seemed to have reversed completely. Usually, I was the crazy, hectic emotional one; and he counterbalanced me by being coldly neutral towards everything.

But it was simply Loki's nature to be that way; to view himself so high above everything else that none of these problems mattered to him. I, on the other hand, kept my emotions cool and collected, and my heartbeat steady, for an entirely different purpose; to keep him sane.

He usually hid his emotions to protect himself, to cover all fear and pain and thus any weakness… whereas, right now, I was focused mostly on keeping him calm, acting like a beacon of what he was supposed to be, the perfect model of the cold neutrality he typically embodied.

And it worked; it did help him. He was not the only one who could help me control my emotions; I helped him keep his in check as well. Once he managed to push aside the fear enough to think to do so, he focused on my heartbeat, matching his with it. The two synced up like they normally did, and I sat upright, perfectly straight, still cross-legged on the floor, just like he always did. Slowly, his posture shifted to match it.

It took a very long time for his thoughts to sort back into their usual rhythm, and when they did he did not thank me for my help. That was all right; I hadn't expected him to. But finally, he managed to breathe again, to quell the tears and return his features to their usual smooth, uncaring state.

Still we stayed in silence for a very long time. I didn't push him; I didn't want to end up saying the wrong word, didn't want him to start talking before he could and end up breaking down again.

So for a while, we just sat there. I quelled any impatience I had, turning my focus to other things, letting my brain tune out, think about whatever random thing it wanted. The TV show I saw last night, a scene from Harry Potter, Jekyll's face when I'd given him that steak… these thoughts jumbled about, a collection of white noise, making my brain nothing but background sound, so that Loki could concentrate without being disturbed.

When he finally did speak up, his voice was very quiet. It was relatively toneless, resorting to an old technique that I had used frequently in my lifetime; flicking a switch and turning off his emotions. Listing facts and figures as though they were nothing more than that; as though he was telling the life story of someone else entirely. "I never knew her name before."

I looked to him, but he kept staring forwards blankly. I studied his profile as he continued talking. "I'd known about her for years before I…" He choked. A new fear spiked through him; Heimdal. The Gatekeeper could be watching; he frequently kept an eye on Loki. I understood immediately.

It's ok, I told him gently. You don't have to say it out loud.

He still did not face me; and for another long moment, he said absolutely nothing. I wondered why he was even bothering to tell me at all; why he wasn't trying to hide it from me again. He must have known that I wouldn't try and rip it out of his head, no matter the consequences, not after what I'd seen, not after I'd seen the unbreakable hold that this fear had over him… But he also knew that there were no secrets between us. This was something I would have found out sooner or later; perhaps it was best that I found out now.

Finally, swallowing, he closed his eyes and spoke again. Shadow Hounds… Shadow Manipulation, Shadow Taming… Creatures capable of such things, monsters made of shadow… they are a common theme in Jotun legends. But there is one who stands above them all, considered to be the Shadow's Master… and also their Nightmare.

He paused. I said nothing, letting him take his time. She is… Death. Shadow and Death and Fear, Fear itself… A shudder ran down his spine and he looked down to the ground, to the side, away from me. I tried to reach my hand out to touch him… but of course I could not. I pulled my hand back.

The Frost Giants were taught to fear her above everything else; and they did. So much so that they never spoke her name aloud.

I lifted an eyebrow. Ok, that was impressive. If the Asgardians were a bunch of Vikings, then the Frost Giants were like Spartans; right down to abandoning the weakest of their young, leaving them to die in the cold. When it came right down to it, they were completely fearless; they lived for the battle.

They called her the 'Shadow Child,' the 'Planet-Killer'… And that is exactly what she is. He looked to me at last, his eyes deadly serious. She is a destroyer of worlds, Frost. Whatever we thought she was here for… we were wrong. This is not about the Avengers. This is about the Earth.

I felt a shiver run through me, but I forced it aside. I'd figure all that out later, get back to the whole Planet-Killer thing. I had to sort out one thing at a time, or else my head would explode. Loki recognized this and returned to the main subject; how he even knew Fraye in the first place, why he'd reacted in the way he had.

He paused, then, I had long researched the legends. The thought of something so powerful… intrigued me. But what I could learn on Asgard was limited; so when I was… 'exiled' from my home, when I fell from the Bifrost, when I was searching for my army… I searched for her as well.

I swallowed. Let me guess. You found her.

He chuckled without humor, a dry laugh completely without mirth. He did not answer me; not for a while, and not out loud. Then, slowly, he held out his arm. With great care, he rolled his sleeve up to his elbow, displaying the skin on the inside of his forearm; pale and unblemished.

Then, carefully, he ran the fingers of his other hand over it; I recognized not only the gesture, but the… feeling behind it. Like a slight buzz in his fingers, the flexing of certain muscles… I could tell it was magic; more specifically, I could tell what kind of magic it was. It was the same gesture, the same feeling, the same general motions he went through whenever he was removing an illusion that he'd created. It wasn't always exactly the same, depending on the magic, or in this case, on the illusion itself. But I still recognized it; I'd learned a lot about the Asgardian version of science since Loki had gotten into my head.

I frowned, confused. What kind of illusion would he need to remove from his arm…?

And then I gasped.

The scars that cut across the inside of his forearm varied greatly; from small white marks to thick, blood-red lines; some looked downright poisonous, with blackened edges. On a majority of them, I couldn't tell what had caused them; they seemed to be some horrible blend between cuts and burns, deep and ugly and painful…

But what struck me the most was the intent behind each and every one of those scars. It was so completely plain, so obvious, that these were not random happenstance. They were not battle wounds, or accidental injuries. They were too perfect for that. Some of them were perfectly straight, a few lined up in a row… while still others looked like insane patterns, drawn into his skin; curls and sweeps of movement that seemed almost alive…

Did I not tell you that untreated shadow wounds would create scars? Loki asked, his words bitter, black and painful despite the twisted smile on his face. And that the pain may never cease?

I continued to stare at the deformities on his skin. Tears prickled at my eyes. Why didn't you- I stopped myself before I could even ask. I knew why he hadn't told anyone. Because this went beyond weakness. Beyond simple fear. This was, beyond any doubt, his greatest nightmare; the thing which came for him in his sleep, the thing which lurked in the dark.

My hands clenched, and I began to shake again. But not out of fear this time. Fraye did this to you? I growled, looking at the sweep of patterns that crossed over his skin; the product of a twisted- or perhaps entirely lost- mind.

He smiled at me very softly, still without humor, still so… painful. She did far worse. These scars are not unique. Slowly, he pulled up his other shirt sleeve; waving his hand over it again, releasing another illusion… he'd kept these hidden beneath lie upon lie, keeping the illusion on his even while the scars were covered by his sleeve… More of them littered this arm, horrible and painful… They are everywhere, Miss Frost.

I tasted metal as my vision turned red. That little bitch is gonna die.

He rolled his eyes. There is nothing you can do against her. She is not the child she appeared to you as; that is why I did not recognize her… why I refused to recognize her. The corners of his lips turned downward as he debated something in his mind for a long moment. Then, slowly, he closed his eyes and concentrated.

A memory began to tug at me, and a picture flashed at the back of my eyes, an image searing itself in my brain. It was accompanied by a flash of fear and pain so great that I found myself gasping. For a brief moment, I could actually feel something binding my wrists, something unbreakable and cold wrapped around them, tying them to something beneath me… a black metal chair… there was darkness all around me…

But the main part of the image, the memory- Loki's memory, I was sure of it- was a woman who stood among all of that darkness.

She was as pale as a sheet, with deep black circles underneath far blacker eyes. Shadows swirled about in her coal-black hair, and more of the living shades danced about around her. She was fairly short in stature, and bone-thin; she looked, in all honesty… like Death.

There was an insane light in those black eyes… a mad, hysterical smile decorated her face… there was no sanity in her features, no sense in those glittering, jewel-black eyes… a smear of blood was had been wiped across her cheek, and there was blood on her small, pale hands. From the pain that shocked through my entire system, that cut through me from head to toe, I knew for a fact that this blood was Loki's.

Just as suddenly as it had come, the memory dissipated; but not before burning that face permanently into my mind, branding it on my thoughts. I blinked a few times, trying to clear it from my vision.

"That… that was her?" I asked, my voice coming out in a little squeak. I sounded like freaking Minnie Mouse. Suddenly realizing that I was speaking out loud, I switched to my mental voice. That was Fraye?

Loki nodded; I tried to reconcile that image with the little girl that I knew, the young child that I had once tried to protect… only the eyes matched. As I thought back to the little girl, I saw it in my mind, saw what I'd tried so desperately to block out… the insanity had always been there, lurking in her gaze… I simply hadn't noticed before, had refused to notice before.

She had me for months, Loki said; and his mental voice was quieter than ever; so much so that I had to strain to hear it. She was such a small, pathetic-looking creature… I thought that the Frost Giants must have been wrong, but she soon proved otherwise… she was determined to teach me the meaning of fear, the meaning of darkness… His eyes started to sting again. He tilted his head upwards, looking at the ceiling, trying to clear away the threatening tears. She called me her… He stopped.

Her favorite little plaything, I guessed. He blinked and didn't answer; I took it as an affirmative. You don't have to talk about it.

He fell silent for a moment, then accepted this, skipping past the months that she'd held him captive, saying not a word… one day, one day, I would know of everything that she had put him through. But right now, that did not matter. I managed to escape; but only because she allowed it. She sent me off with a laugh, said that it was just so much fun keeping me alive, that she would be watching… he swallowed. His green eyes turned to me. That she would always be watching, he emphasized.

I swallowed. It took me a second to piece together the importance of that, to figure out why that would mean anything… but then the jigsaw assembled itself, and I understood.

I understood everything.

She'd let him escape. She'd let him run. She'd been keeping her eye on him… she'd been watching when he returned to Earth…

In short… Loki had led her straight here.

He glanced to me; that dry, humorless smile was back again. I suppose the Avengers will not be surprised that their world is threatened once again because of my actions.

Are you insane? The words blurted out of me before I could stop them. The Avengers ain't hearing squat about this!

He blinked at me, his head tilting very slightly to the side. Trying to figure me out. I folded my arms.

Well they aren't. I growled, feeling a sudden need to justify myself. They don't need any more reason to hate you than they already have. They're not going to see what I see; they'll just see another one of your attempts to take over earth; or maybe some kind of temper-tantrum 'if-I-can't-have-the-planet-neither-can-you' kinda things. Especially if we don't tell them about what she did to you- and we're not. Going. To.

His eyebrow lifted, and despite everything, the smile stretched a little.

No. I went on, shaking my head once. No, if we're going to deal with Fraye, we're going to do it by ourselves. I hesitated. At least until she shows her true colors… A plan started forming. If there's one good thing about having the Norse god of Mischief in your brain, it's that plotting things starts to become a lot easier. I kept him shut out, kept him from hearing the vague sense of a plan that I had, for fear that it would be revealed as ridiculous, a childish notion… he noticed, but didn't comment.

I need you to tell me everything you learned about her, I said, my mind whirring. Everything you can.

I felt the faintest hint of feeling in his chest; a hint of something that was not fear. It was almost… pride. The smile, though still cold as ice, grew slightly warmer. My caviler assumption that he would have learned something about her, despite being helpless, despite being bound and –I fought with the word- tortured, that he would still be observing as closely as ever… I hadn't realized what that assumption would mean to him. In fairness, he hadn't realized it, either.

Fraye is a force of nature, he said after a moment, immediately turning into the strategist that he was at heart. I have to admit, it made me smile, seeing him that way again. I mean, seeing him cry… seeing him broken… an image like that had no place in the universe. Deadly and powerful; she goes from planet to planet, world to world, and slaughters all in her path. She follows no pattern, adheres to no code… but if she has chosen the Avengers as her first targets, then it is likely that she has decided to… break them. Chosen them as her preferred targets; she wishes to destroy the protectors before destroying the planet.

'Her protector must die,' I quoted musingly, remembering what the shadows had said, back before I'd discovered Fraye's true nature, back when I'd stood as her protector, her Avenger… the thought now twisted me up, a monster tearing and clawing at my insides, howling with rage.

Precisely, Loki said with a single nod, acknowledging my observation. Slowly, I brought my hand to my face, curling it into a fist and chewing on my thumbnail. My mind was racing; my plan was coming together, piece by piece.

So, eventually, she's going to show them her true colors. I guessed.

Yes, he affirmed. Right now, she is merely… integrating herself within them. She takes no pleasure in merely breaking a person's body; but their spirit… that is something else entirely. She wants the Avengers to trust her. She wants them to feel betrayed. She wants them to feel pain.

I winced, though I tucked that information in the back of my head to look at with my shrink-goggles later. I didn't like the idea of the Avengers being in pain… but if I told them about her true nature now, it would make no difference. It would still be a betrayal; and the others hadn't been as distrusting as I had. They had given their hearts to her… completely.

Wait, I said, holding up two fingers as something else caught my attention. You said that she's integrating herself… you don't think that she'd doing reconnaissance? Scouting out the competition? Figuring out strengths and weaknesses, that sort of thing?

His eyebrows shot up. No, he answered. Fraye is telepathic. She already knows everything about you. My eyes widened a little, and he sighed exasperatedly. Honestly, Frost. Was this not obvious?

My eyes narrowed a little. Ok, ok, the mortal is a little slow on the uptake. So shoot me.

The sly humor glinted out of his eyes once more. Despite how condescending and irritating he was being, it was good to have him back to normal. I assumed you knew; you yourself made note of how she seemed to know 'all of the right things to say'; how she seemed to know everyone's secret weaknesses without ever being told… And then she spoke to me directly, addressed me while facing you…

I paused. Ok, in retrospect, that was obnoxiously obvious. And now I felt incredibly stupid. Little Bobo the trained monkey, thinking he were super smart because he was just house-trained and learned how to dance on command… I gnashed my teeth.

Maybe I was just in denial of the fact that there is yet another whack job psychopath out there who knows my every private thought, you ever think about that? I grumbled.

Instead of being insulted by the whack-job-psychopath comment, Loki chuckled quietly. He glanced down to the scars on his pale arms and slowly ran his hands over them again; the illusion went back into place, and he rolled down his sleeves, fastening them again. So do you intend on telling me this plan of yours, Frost, or are you going to keep me in the dark?

I flushed. It's not really a 'plan', per se… I didn't even bother with denial. I picked at my nails and added, More like… an idea.

I'm listening.

I paused, then said slowly, It's just… I sighed. I know you. I know how you think. You called Fraye a Planet-Killer… and if she knows your thoughts, then her next target after Earth is going to be Asgard. And if that happens… You're going to be locked away in a cage, locked away in your prison, your box… She could destroy the whole world around you and you'd be powerless to stop it, powerless to stop her when she came for you.

His eyes had turned a little harder, becoming stone. He said nothing, but the dangerous emotion brewing inside of him acknowledged the truth in my words.

And you're not going to stand for that. You've been rendered helpless by her once before; you're not going to let it happen again. If she is here, and if you are going to die, then you're going to die on your feet and fighting, with her blood on your hands.

He studied me. I swallowed and went on, So, basically… we just have to bust you out of jail.

His eyebrows furrowed, taken very slightly aback. And how, exactly, do you propose we do that? He asked, not without a trace of a sneer. I couldn't fight the smile that crept over my face; a smile that showed just a little bit too much of the monster within.

Easy. I replied, oddly direct for the situation at hand. We get your father- and the Avengers- to let you out.

Loki gave me a look that either said: 'you are a stark raving genius' or 'honestly, Frost, I'm not sure why I haven't put you out of your misery yet'. I was pretty sure it wasn't the first one.

Think about it, I said, trying to get my words out before I lost my courage, before I scrapped the plan entirely. If Fraye is as deadly as you say she is- and I'm not doubting you on that, I added quickly, when he looked ready to open his mouth and defend his claim, then when she shows her true colors, she's gonna leave a mark.

He fell silent for a moment as I said, My guess is that she'll attack the Avengers, but she won't kill them. Not the first time, anyway, not if she wants to 'break' them. But if she leaves enough of a mark, if she scares them enough… we could use that to our advantage.

His eyebrow went up. He was beginning to see where this was going.

Imagine that, I said, warming up to my idea against my will. This innocent little girl, who they've been trying to protect, suddenly unleashes a bunch of crazy shadows. She beats the Avengers at their own game, a super-power battle that utterly wipes them out, but- but!- she leaves them alive. Reeling. Unsure of when she's going to strike next, unsure of how they're going to save the world-and themselves- from a threat like… I swallowed, remembering the image of Fraye that Loki had shown me from his memory, all grown up with her hands dripping with his blood… like that. And then they learn that you have information about her, about this new threat, this threat that is far greater than even you…

During this explanation, Loki's eyes had gone round. His mind had begun to buzz, catching on very quickly. The enemy of my enemy, his thoughts whispered in awe. He looked to me, a very faint hint of grudging respect in his expression. Do you truly think that it will work?

If we sell it right, I responded, feeling pride explode in my chest. My first-ever scheme had been approved by the schemer himself. A part of me knew very well that I shouldn't be so bloody happy about that, but the rest of me didn't care. We can make the Avengers think that I'm just as upset about it as they are. I chewed my lip, now warming up to my own plan a little more willingly. It shouldn't be too hard; and we can stage a fight between us, just in case Heimdal is watching. I was already planning out the act in my head; an argument between myself and Loki as to why we would ever let him out of this prison, when in truth I would be secretly aiming for just that goal.

I went on, You can say that you'll only help them if they let you fight her, say that you have your reasons…

At this, Loki frowned. Would they not expect you to simply take any information that I might have directly from my mind?

If they do, I'll refuse. I answered carelessly. Give them some BS about how if I do, you'll fight it too much, your mind will snap under the pressure, yadda yadda yadda.

And if they ignore this? If they order you to do so anyway?

Now it was my turn to give him a look. Have you ever known me to follow orders a day in my life?

He chuckled softly. A fair point, he admitted. He fell silent for a long moment, considering. Then, Fraye will see this coming. She will know; she will take it from our minds.

I'd thought of that, too. If she does, she'll go along with it. She wants to remove Earth's protectors, take out their strongest warriors… I toyed with the flat silver bracelet that was clamped on my wrist. That includes me. If she killed me before she got her hands on you…

We both fell silent. The idea that one of us might die before the other was… unimaginable. Painful to even think about. I did not need to clarify that if it happened, Loki would be reduced to a shell of his former self long before Fraye got her hands on him, would possibly be begging for death by the time she got there. A part of his mind would have been ripped from him, torn away… though we may not be at that point yet, it would certainly be painful; to the point where it would be crippling.

There'd be no fun in it, I concluded at last, shrugging off the disturbing mental picture. Besides. What's one more hero, but a better challenge? She's all about that, isn't she? Challenges? Fun? I started tracing patterns on the insides of my forearms; the same sweeps and curls that had been scarred into Loki's skin. She called you her 'plaything' after all. My psychiatrist mind started spinning again. Loki wasn't the only psychopath that had sparked my interest in the past few years.

He scowled at me. Oh, no. I know that look.

What? I asked innocently.

It's madness, Frost. He grit his teeth. Fraye is not something that can be reasoned with. There is nothing in her mind but blood and insanity; do not think that you can explore her mind in the way you do to mine, to the Avengers'.

There has to be a reason why she is the way she is, I protested, no longer feigning naïveté. There was a reason for you, after all.

I am different.

How?

He looked away, his hands tightening in fists. If you try to investigate Fraye's mind, if you try to explore her past… if you say one wrong word, she will obliterate you. She will destroy you, break you down, torture you.

My eyebrows disappeared beneath my bangs as I folded my arms over my chest. And that makes her different from you, how? Face it, Loki, in the old days, I always thought- always knew- that you were going to kill me. When you got pissed off, you'd give me nightmares that tortured my brain. You'd kill all of my friends and family in front of me just to screw with me. I knew the consequences then, and I know them now.

His scowl deepened. I have limits. Fraye does not.

What limits? I demanded. You crossed lines left right and center! Hell, you did it just the other day, with my parents! I glared, then turned my gaze to the ground, glowering at the floor. Don't you get that it's the right thing to do? That maybe there's a reason to her? That, maybe, you're not the only one who deserves a second chance?

He whirled on me suddenly, turning to face me; had I been there, I had the feeling that he would have gripped my shoulders tightly enough to bruise. His face had turned a little whiter; something that I had not noticed until now. But when you tried to give me that second chance, when you pulled up my past, when you said the things that you did, you were the only one at risk. That is no longer the case. Fire was burning in his currently-blue eyes by now. If she tortured you, I would share that pain. If you die, then it is possible that I will share that same fate. Do not destroy me in your misguided attempts to be righteous!

My ears started ringing. Ok. Now I was pissed. The monster within stroked at the flames of my hatred, slowly enveloping me, taking me over… it spoke through me, said things that I never would have… Oh, really? I sneered. I was the only one at risk when I did that? I was the only one who could have been harmed by my actions? Really? Ok. Ok, fine! If that's the case, then tell me, my hands were shaking by this point, the words coming out of me with reckless abandon. What the hell was April?

This question split the air around us, broke it down, shattered it into silence. Loki did not react in the slightest; did not wince or flinch or even blink. But his thoughts recoiled away from mine, his mind encasing itself in ice, his heart freezing over… I hadn't realized until that point how close we were, how tightly intertwined our thoughts had become, in that moment when we were agreeing with each other, planning with each other, working with each other. But now that he was pulling away again, it became starkly, painfully clear. I turned away, my resentment still a bitter taste on my tongue, but regret was already making my throat thick, my stomach hollow.

After a long moment of cold, black silence, I sighed and buried my face in my hands. Okay. I let out a long, drawn-out groan. Okay, okay, that was stupid thing to say.

I have no arguments for that, he answered, but it was teasing, lighter than I'd expected. I gave him a sideways glare. He gave me one of his unfathomable, maybe-I'm-laughing-maybe-I'm-just-plotting-against -you looks. I sighed and lifted my face to the ceiling, rolling my head back on my shoulders and closing my eyes.

I'm sorry, I said, though we both knew that I was half lying. I knew I was right. I was sorry that I had said it now, that I had let my anger get the best of me… but I wasn't taking it back. It was the truth.

I know, I know, I went on, We don't talk about April. Like Fight Club. I let out a sigh through my nose. It's just…

My eyes opened, and I looked at the ceiling, seeing both of the worlds I now inhabited in my vision; the real world, Earth, where I was sitting at home, looking at my normal ceiling… and the world in my head, the world that Loki inhabited, Asgard, looking at the darkness above him, the darkness which hid a ceiling that may or may not have existed.

It had to be her, didn't it?

I think the bitterness in those words surprised us both. Loki looked to me, calculating once again. After a brief second of thought, he asked a question of his own. Who would you have preferred? Your mother? Your father? Perhaps someone that you had never met, an innocent person from the streets?

I swallowed. My throat felt thicker than ever, my eyes burning. I didn't look at him, but still stared at the twin ceilings of my twin worlds.

Why couldn't it have been me?

He didn't answer me for so long that I finally turned to face him again; I found myself looking at his profile once more as he stared at the darkness of his cell. Not facing me.

Because you would never have fought for yourself, he finally responded. If I had threatened your life, if I had ordered you to destroy the Avengers or be destroyed in turn… You would not have done it. You would have mocked me, scorned the very idea. He looked to me finally, his pale, topaz blue eyes deep and unfathomable. It was supposed to be you. That was the original plan; to threaten your life, so that you would destroy the Avengers. He was watching me. Gauging my reactions. With every word, he scanned my face, waiting to see what I would do next. But the instant I created our mental connection, the moment I linked us together… the circumstances required that I become more… creative.

I then planned to simply threaten someone you loved. But I soon realized that was also doomed for failure; you would fight tooth and nail to protect someone else, it is true… but the dilemma would tear you apart. In the end, I doubted that you would have ever killed the Avengers, even to save someone you loved.

I said absolutely nothing. I was listening closely, taking in every word. Loki and I never talked about April like this; not once, not ever. It was too painful of a subject, something that made the walls between us grow thicker, something that tore us apart. But we could only walk on eggshells for so long; and now, as he spoke of his side of the story… I found myself seeing it from his point of view, seeing it as he did, seeing it as nothing more than a cold calculation on the part of the ultimate strategist. He was a schemer; to him, April hadn't been a person. She'd just been a variable.

But, in other ways, I was surprisingly relieved; particularly because he had thought that I would not destroy the Avengers, that I would not kill anyone in cold blood, even to spare someone else that I loved. That was something that had bothered me for a year now; ever since I'd almost killed Bruce and Natasha in that battle, just to save my best friend… I had almost become a monster…

I chose April very carefully, Loki had the decency to look me in the eye as he said this, to not turn away… though he seemed to just still be studying me, still trying to figure out how I would react. From all of your family and friends, she was the one best suited to my purposes. I knew that she carried a pocketknife, that she could sever the ropes that bound her. I knew that she would sacrifice everything to save you, just as you had been prepared to do the same for her. I knew that she had the same heroic- and perhaps self destructive- streak that you did. And I knew that you loved her; that she was, perhaps, more your family than your very blood… I knew how you would react should she die; particularly if she should die at her own hand, trying and failing to be a hero… dying for a pointless cause… I knew that you would no longer have a choice, that you would lose control over your emotions, that you would destroy New York without ever trying…

I swallowed and closed my eyes. A tear overflowed and I wiped it off quickly. It made sense. All of it made a kind of sick, calculated sense. Loki had played my emotions just as he had played everyone else's; it had been harder with me, with my strange way of thinking, with my slight Death Wish, with everything else… but in the end, he had simply tailored his plan to fit his subject, his victim: me.

And that made sense. In the old days, I was just another mortal; I was of no consequence, I meant absolutely nothing. And he was just a crazy sociopath who wanted to rule the world. But now… well, now we knew each other better.

We were both quiet for a very long time; but finally, I asked him, If you knew… If you knew then, who I was… if you knew what would happen… would you do it again?

His head tilted to the side again, his eyes narrowing a little in thought. No.

I nodded slowly, accepting that… but after a moment, I asked, What if it meant that you won? That you got everything you ever wanted, that the Avengers were destroyed and you became king? Would you do it again?

He held my gaze for an impressively long time; but then he looked away, turning his head to the side, no longer facing me, no longer looking towards me. He didn't answer. He didn't have to. The look in his eyes told me everything I needed to know.

I sighed heavily as I got to my feet. That's what I thought, I said, trying to smother my disappointment. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on snapping my projection back into myself, merging my two realities back into one. It took a while, but it finally happened; I opened my eyes and saw only my house, perfectly normal and plain. Well. Time to go stop a Planet-Killer.

Miss Frost… Loki didn't seem to know what he wanted to say.

I swallowed. I know. Don't worry about it. I started towards the door, ready to head back to the Tower. We've got real enemies to face right now.