A/N: OMYGOSH LOOK AT THIS. LOOK AT THIS. IS THIS WHAT I THINK IT IS? IT IS. IT'S AN UPDATE BY SCI FI.
Oog. I am so sorry for how long this took for me to post. And that this isn't a longer chapter to make up for the wait. On the plus side, the next one will kind of hopefully be longer… maybe? I dunno, but I'm pretty sure it will be.
Also, recently realized that 'Romanov' is actually 'Romanoff'… heh. *headdesk* Just ignore me and my stupid spelling mistakes, please, thank you…
With each step you take, the bond you break, the nightmare sings as bells will ring, the darkest hour of stolen power, the battle flight of nightmare's right…
These are the things that whisper in the dark… that taunt and torment… and then the crack of gunfire… the sound of someone screaming…
"APRIL!"
The world falls silent as the darkness screams… And she watches, the nightmare child, the Shadowed Heart… she laughs as the darkness swirls about the one who glows, whose tears mingle with the normal one's blood on the floor…
"How dare you care for him?" The Shadowed One whispers into her ear. "How dare you care for Loki, after what he did to you…? April would never forgive you. Never."
Battling the dark, fighting with the light… trying to keep the light alive, to keep that glow fighting, because nothing else matters now…
Loki's green eyes snapped open, his heart racing, his hands in tight fists beside him… he stared at the ceiling for a long moment, the remnants of his dreams ringing in his ears. For a short while, he found that he could not breathe, could not think… but slowly, that faded as he studied the now-familiar patterns above him, listened to my thoughts lingering at the edge of his consciousness. I was still passed out in my room at this point, but my dreams, thankfully, were a lot more peaceful than his had been.
He closed his eyes and let out a long, heavy sigh. These constant nightmares were not something he wished to deal with for much longer… and yet, every night, they came back for him. The same dreams, the ones which had warned him of Fraye's arrival, the ones that he was certain she was placing in his mind…
He was not sure if it was a conscious choice on Fraye's part, but he did not care, either. He sat up slowly, looking at himself in the mirror. He certainly looked worse for the wear; and it was not something he wished for his brother, or any of the other Avengers, to see. He surveyed the dark circles beneath his eyes with a small frown; even now, she was taking her toll, cutting into him, breaking him apart piece by piece…
He blinked, forcing the thought aside, and ran a hand through his black hair. His fingers were pale and, he realized in disgust, still shaking; he held them in fists at his side in an attempt to hide this newest weakness. It seemed there was a great deal of weakness in his life these days; first with me enforcing our connection, and then with Fraye's sudden reappearance in his life.
He glanced around the room, reacquainting himself with the area surrounding him, and caught sight of something that had not been there when he'd fallen asleep the night previous. He walked over to the closet and pulled off the note that I had taped there during my watch.
Clothes are in here. Tony didn't really have anything your size/ style, sorry. We'll fix that later today. Bathroom on this floor is down the hall, fourth door on the right. Wake me when you're ready. Wanna get a head start on your 'training' before we meet up with the Avengers.
-Crazy Mortal Night Light
He smiled very slightly. It seemed that my sarcastic personality simply could not rest. He crumpled the note in one hand, tossing it into the trash can before opening the closet doors. A frown tugged at his lips; well, I had not been lying about the size, nor the style. But, he supposed, it would suffice; even if the rags before him were not as formal as he was used to. Even while wearing Midguardian clothing, Loki liked to look as though he was a person with power, with respect.
He glanced through the limited selection of clothing, then stopped when he saw yet another note taped to a simple green shirt. This one? –Frost
He lifted his eyebrows. Does she think to dress me, now? He thought, annoyed.
He crushed this note as well and threw it away, scanning the other articles of clothing… but his eyes went back to the shirt after a long moment. He sighed. Our tastes, it seemed, were starting to correlate as well. He removed the shirt from its hanger, followed by a semi-formal black jacket and a pair of black pants; none of which were his size, nor what he would wear given the choice, but at the moment, choice was exactly what he did not have.
He draped the clothes over his arm and walked to the door, taking a moment to banish all lingering traces of his dreams from his mind before he stepped out into the hallway. As he'd suspected, someone was standing guard outside; the Soldier, Steve Rogers.
He looked to Loki as the Trickster exited the room. He doubted that anyone had gone past their duty by actually checking to see if he was still inside the room; only I had spent my shift actually inside, watching him. Then again, I had a reason; the others did not.
Rogers smiled almost politely. "Still here, then," he noted. Loki looked him over; he knew what I thought of the Captain, knew that I liked him, knew that he was a good friend to me… and he knew why I felt that way… but personally, he did not understand it. The Soldier was an interesting mind to study, perhaps, but it was a simple mind, even when mortals were concerned. Perhaps this was due to his difference in time period, perhaps not.
Loki straightened. "Where else would I go?" He questioned quietly, smirking a little. He started walking, and Steve fell into step beside him.
"Kinda what I figured," Rogers admitted. Loki continued to smile. Steve looked to the clothing in his arms. He didn't comment on them.
Loki continued onwards, not bothering to speak. The Soldier had been polite. I had suspected as much; that some of the Avengers might act kinder to Loki then we'd originally thought, simply because of their nature, but the Trickster had no time for anyone's kindness.
The two remained silent until Loki arrived at his destination; the bathroom that I had described in my note. He turned to Steve. "If you'll excuse me…" he said, ever-so-politely, then vanished inside.
Loki glanced to the mirror. He knew I'd be a little miffed that he hadn't bothered to try and work with Steve, hadn't even made an attempt… I still held on to that foolish hope that Loki might become the 'good guy' one day, after all, that this one time of working with the Avengers may lead to greater things in the future… But he did not have time to discuss trivial matters with the Captain. He wanted to finish washing up and changing before I woke up; that was usually what we did, anyway. We tried not to change clothes or shower or whatever unless the other was asleep; and if it could not be avoided, then the two of us would throw up as many mental barriers as we could, keeping ourselves out of each other's minds. It was one of the many strange-and-slightly-irritating quirks of living with another person inside your brain space.
He glanced to himself in the mirror again and frowned. He should not look so weak. He should not look so… feeble. He felt stronger than ever; his magic had returned to him, he was outside of that darkened cell, he was free… And yet, his mirror image told a different story. He looked away. Already, Fraye was working against him, twisting his thoughts, trying to make him afraid once more.
Fear is nothing! Fear is an illusion! It does not exist; it can not be allowed to exist!
The words that I'd said to him… had it only been yesterday? Had Fraye only attacked the day previous?
Then why did it feel as though years had passed?
Loki banished the thoughts from his mind. It no longer mattered. All that mattered now was defeating Fraye. Ridding the universe of this monster once and for all.
He washed up quickly, then changed into the outfit that he had chosen, with the shirt that I had suggested; a dark green that matched the colors of his cape, his armor, his usual theme. He frowned slightly; it did not look as bad as he'd originally thought- the jacket certainly gave it a trace of class- but it still did not fit quite right, and would be fairly useless to fight in. Then again, he did have his battle armor, if worst came to worst… even if I thought that might not be the smartest of ideas…
Once changed, he headed to my room; it seemed that the Captain had trusted him enough to leave him alone for a while, for he was no where in sight as Loki walked towards my door… he typed in the pass code with quick fingers, and it swung open slowly.
He saw me on the bed, my arms and legs splayed about haphazardly, my head lolling off the side of the mattress… how I could sleep in such a ridiculous position was beyond him, but we both knew that this was not uncommon for me. As usual, there was a book on the floor beside me, and, as usual, it did not hold Loki's interest.
He walked over to me; though he would never admit it to anyone but me- and only to me because he had no choice- he viewed the mornings as one of the few good things about our mind link; he was always intrigued by my disorientation whenever I woke up. Apparently, I had some pretty interesting thoughts when my brain was half-addled by sleep; usually things that followed abnormal dream logic. I saw the attraction; it had happened to Loki once or twice as well, and I'd found it pretty freaking hilarious, feeling his thoughts reorganizing themselves in the way they did. It was also kinda interesting; you don't always remember your own thoughts when you first wake up, much like you don't remember your own dreams. It's somewhat strange, to see someone else's.
Loki walked up next to my bed, placing a freezing hand on my shoulder, shaking it gently. "Wake up, Frost," he said quietly. My hand twitched, but otherwise, I did not move. He shook me again. "Natalie."
This time, my twitching hand reached out and slapped him away; I rolled over onto my stomach, burying my face in my pillow. "Five more minutes…" I mumbled, almost inaudibly.
Loki took a step back, frowning. He was not going to sit around and wait just so that I could have a few more minutes of sleep. A slow, roguish smile curled on his lips; carefully, he pulled his jacket sleeve back very slightly, brushed my hair aside, and spread a very thin layer of ice across the fingerprints of two fingers; then placed them directly on the back of my neck.
I shot upright at the speed of light, letting out a long string of random syllables that sounded suspiciously like, "Eeaglblaflig!" Whatever that is. I threw myself away from his hand and almost rolled off of the bed, crashing to the floor. Thankfully, I managed to grab onto the mattress before that happened, keeping myself from tumbling down. I rolled onto my back, groaning as I ran my hand down my face, trying to clear the sleep-gunk away from my face.
"You suck," I grumbled; my eyes opened, and I saw him for the first time that morning… I looked at him for a long moment, then noted, "You know, I absolutely hate to admit this, but I have actually woken up to worse things than just your smug face in the morning."
He chuckled quietly, green eyes dancing. Slowly, painfully, I pulled myself upright… then fell back down, completely dizzy. "Oog. Headache." I closed my eyes again. "Seriously, you couldn't let me sleep for just a few more minutes?"
"You are the one who wanted me to wake you the moment that I was ready. I am ready. Therefore, you are awake." I gave him a look and he held out his hands, palms up, placating. "Simple logic."
"I actually think I hate you." I closed my eyes again. "I got what, two hours of sleep last night? First with my watch, then with everything else…" I groaned. "Seriously, go eat some breakfast or something. There's no way in hell I'm getting up and being functional right now."
"I thought that was part of your pride as a college student; being able to work with little to no sleep."
"Be warned, you are in dangerous proximity to my foot. And I have been known to kick at random."
He took a casual step back, which carried him out of range of said kick-happy foot, and he clasped his hands behind him. I closed my eyes again; the world did not seem to want to clarify itself, did not want to rearrange into the normalcy that I was used to… instead my thoughts drifted, faded… even closing my eyes for a few seconds made me want to pass out…
"Frost," Loki re-emphasized, a trace of annoyance in his tone. My eyes flicked open again.
"No," I growled, turning around again. "Ugh, give me another hour, please, I'm begging you."
He let out a little half-sigh, studying me for a moment… but as the world blurred for me once more, he recognized that it was a lost cause and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him. Standing in the hallway, he frowned. The Captain and I might trust him enough to leave him alone for a little while, but if any of the others caught him roaming the hallways alone, he did not like to think of what they would do. He had done quite a lot to secure his partial freedom; he did not wish to lose it on something so trivial as a misunderstanding.
He walked towards the elevator. He knew the Avengers' particular favorite rooms from my memories. It would not be too difficult to find one of them, to keep within their sight.
Fortunately-or perhaps unfortunately- one of them found him before he had that chance. The elevator door started closing just as Loki caught sight of him; he hid a sigh and held it open for the other man; Thor smiled at him and stepped inside the small room with him. Loki knew that I had ridden on countless elevators in my life before, with no trouble, and he had never really had a problem with small spaces… but when he was placed inside one of those infernal contraptions with his brother, the air suddenly seemed to become a little thinner.
Thor did not say anything to Loki, and Loki said not a word to Thor. He knew that I'd be even more miffed that he wasn't trying to work on his relationship with Thor, considering the two of them were family, after all, but he found that he would have rather swallowed glass then make any attempt to speak to Thor. Indeed, it felt like he already had.
Moments before the elevator door opened, however, Thor looked to Loki and seemed to notice the missing mortal. "Where is Natalie?"
"Still asleep," Loki answered, not looking at his brother. Thor had tried on numerous occasions to speak to him in prison… and occasionally Loki had responded… but those times were few and far between. And usually, he'd been forced to do so by yours truly, who started singing 'I know an annoying song' until he gave in.
Thor nodded slowly, as though this answer was expected. The elevator doors opened, and Loki waited for his brother to exit before following silently. Thor glanced back to him.
"She was awake very late last night," he noted. "Watching over you."
Loki made note of the way Thor had phrased that: 'Watching over you'. Not 'standing guard' or simply 'watching'. It was, perhaps, an apt description of what I had been doing; after all, I had not been protecting the Avengers from Loki by sitting in that room until two-or-three-in-the-morning; but rather, I was protecting Loki from the Avengers. They worried me sometimes, and Loki was full aware of this.
But Thor was not meant to be. He was meant to believe that I was as upset about this as everyone else, that I was still pretty suspicious and distrustful of Loki… The Trickster tucked this information away in the back of his mind, deciding to keep a closer eye on Thor from this point on… my close relationship with him could become a problem, if left unchecked… I acted more like myself when I was around him. Which, in this particular scenario, was not a good thing.
"She has been known to take her duties seriously, on occasion," Loki said smoothly, trying to brush over the conversation entirely. Thor looked back at him, smiling, as they walked through one of the many rooms of Stark Tower; Loki would have been lost already, had he not known everything about the place from my thoughts.
Loki did not like the look that Thor gave him; it was too knowing, too humorous. Thor turned away. "You are still incapable of sincerity, brother."
Loki's eyes narrowed in thought, but he allowed the matter to drop as the two of them arrived at what he supposed must be their inevitable destination; one of the many kitchens. Romanoff, Stark, and Banner were all in the room, busying themselves with their normal morning routines… but the instant that Loki entered, everyone fell silent and looked up.
He was used to everyone's eyes on him by this point, but he found that it felt slightly… unnatural, to not have me do something crass or reckless to divert everyone's attention after a few moments. He had not realized that he was so used to my continuing interference.
But he did not depend on it; he waited out their stares patiently, stood tall until they turned away, back to their normal duties, back to their conversations. Romanoff and Stark continued their discussion in quiet tones, while Banner resumed eating. Bruce gave Loki a careful look as he passed by, following Thor. Studying him. Banner smiled ever so slightly before he looked back to his food.
Had I been there, I would have pulled something out of the fridge, made myself a bowl of cereal or something, then tossed some food Loki's way and nagged him until he ate it. We'd have probably gotten into an argument about him eating pathetic mortal stuff, but I would've irritated him into submission eventually. Which, of course, I could have gotten away with; I got away with pretty much everything; doing stuff like that was in my nature, after all. The Avengers were used to me being like that.
But Loki was not me. And thus, he sat himself down instead, intent on not eating anything until I woke up and complained at him. To do anything else may not be taken the right way, after all. The Avengers seemed to forget on frequent occasions that he, too, was a person; that he needed to eat and sleep just as they did.
Thor, on the other hand, seemed to have no problem digging into whatever he could find; Loki ignored his adoptive brother's actions and kept his focus on merely blending into the background, remaining unobserved while he observed all…
"So where's Natalie?" Banner suddenly asked; Loki looked to him, mildly taken aback. It was the second time that morning that someone had asked him this question; and in both situations, the speaker seemed to be aiming towards being polite. He supposed that I was a relatively neutral subject; they all knew me, knew how I was, knew that I would not let Loki out of my sight for even a second, even if they thought it was for different reasons.
Loki turned and answered diplomatically; it was currently in his best interests to remain cordial to the Avengers, after all. "She refused to wake."
At the other end of the room, standing beside Agent Romanoff, Stark snorted loudly. Obviously, he had been listening in. Indeed, it seemed as though the entire room was listening, monitoring Loki's every word and action. "Yeah, that sounds like Nat." He leaned back on one of the counters; he had a strange manner about him, a certain flare… always so relaxed, but with a different kind of arrogance, a self-importance that was very unlike Loki's. "Did she kick you?"
Loki lifted an eyebrow. That was interesting. He was unused to knowing what the others said about me when I was not in the room, unused to their reactions, unused to the seeing the things that I did not see. He smiled very lightly, still sitting tall, as though he, not Stark, owned this place. "She threatened to."
Banner's smile grew. "She'll do that," he said, a hint of subtle humor on his features, as though he were remembering something that Loki did not know about… but of course, Loki knew everything.
Still… he hadn't really thought about that particular little quirk of mine; and now he scanned through my memories, through the little things that he had dismissed… There were a lot more times then I cared to admit where I'd clocked an Avenger on the face or head for trying to wake me up too early, whether with my fist, my foot, or whatever random thing that was within arm's reach.
"Go back in an hour or so with some coffee," Stark finished, looking back to Romanoff, clearly intent on continuing his conversation. "She'll get up."
Loki also knew this; knew very well about my addiction to coffee. He'd often found himself craving the strange brown liquid, despite the fact that he had never once tried it himself. Another disconcerting fact of life that had appeared with the creation of our link.
"Actually, Loki, I've been meaning to ask you something," Banner set his fork down, wiping his mouth with a napkin. Besides Thor and I, he seemed to be the most willing to discuss things openly with the Trickster; but then, why would he not? Banner was a man without anger, because of his anger. He was naturally still angry with everything that Loki had done, angry that he had been let out of prison… but then, it was that anger that kept the monster inside in line. It was an intriguing concept. "It's about those injuries that Fraye causes."
Loki's eyes darted to Banner's shoulder, where he knew that a gash must still run across his chest. "Has the infection returned?" he asked, almost managing to sound as if he cared. Almost.
"Ah… no," Banner shook his head. "It's not me, actually. It's… Well, it's Jekyll. Natalie's dog? One of the Shadow Hounds got him, a few weeks back, when…" he shut up at Loki's look. "Right. You know already." He added, mildly sarcastic. Loki half-smirked.
Banner cleared his throat and went on. "But if there's something that can keep that from becoming infected… well, he saved Natalie's life. And…" he lowered his voice, his eyes on Loki's. They were strangely sharp, for someone so calm, his gaze piercing and more observant than he would have given the man credit for. "He means a lot to her."
Loki was full aware of how much Jekyll meant to me. He laced his fingers together in front of him. "Understood," he said coolly, breezily.
For the next hour and a half, Loki sat in the kitchen, keeping to himself… no one really talked to him from then on, and when they did it was of little consequence. Barton, when he came to see Romanoff, gave him a foul look, and Natasha remained coldly but studiously silent… but everyone else simply seemed content to let him stay there, to blend in… so long as they could keep their eye on him, they didn't care what he did.
Eventually, he stood and started towards the elevator; though not without being given a paper mug of coffee by Thor first. He accepted it without a word, without even looking at his brother.
The others, guessing his intent, did not follow him; though he suspected that Stark told JARVIS to make sure he did not try anything. The idea that the building was watching him was not as unsettling as it may have once been; after all, I was already used to it.
He pressed the button for the elevator; he was far more familiar with this place and its contraptions than perhaps he should be… he knew many things about this mortal realm; far more than he was comfortable with. Knowledge was one thing. Trivia was another entirely.
But that was my fault, my doing. There were days when my mind seemed to be more than just connected with his; there were days when it seemed to be… infiltrating it. Polluting it.
For example, this situation the day previous, where the two of us had fallen into speaking Spanish without noticing it… Loki hadn't even been aware that he could do that, that he had been speaking in another language, that he understood every word that I said, no matter what tongue I said it in. But now… well, now he could not think of a word that he did not know in both languages, could tell the difference between them… and he realized that he was actually quite fluent.
Because of me.
Why her?
Of all the people on this ridiculous planet, of all the creatures on this rock, he had to choose me. I had to be the one whose mind he connected to. Oh, he'd felt rather clever at the time; it all seemed like rather perfect irony, taking the mind of Cameron Frost's daughter, twisting me in much the way he had twisted him. Seeing his project, come to completion, now all grown up, with results that he could have never anticipated… It had been so fun to see what I had become, to use my past against me, against the Avengers… a past that he had created…
To think, that were it not for that one choice, were he able to resist that final, cruel twist… then none of this would have ever happened. If I had been anyone else, it was conceivable that he would now rule this Earth, that the Avengers would have been obliterated and he would be king… or, at the very least, he would be back in his prison cell, his head perfectly, blissfully silent for once… without my constant, irritating chatter, my snide remarks and constant observations…
It sounded like a dream.
Or maybe a nightmare.
The elevator doors had long ago opened, and he was standing in the hallway… but he had frozen, standing still, unable to move forwards, past his whirring, endless thoughts. He feared losing me. He had admitted as much, had he not? The idea of that ringing, eternal silence in his head, an emptiness where my thoughts now resided… He wished that none of this had ever happened, that he had never had my mind in his, that he did not have such a vile weakness… but for now, he feared a life without me, a life where half of his mind would be stripped away, hollowed out…
He knew that I was absolutely terrified of such an occurrence, knew that I was at the point of wanting to help him, to save him from anything and everything… But he had thought that he would, perhaps, have a few more years before he felt the same. His mind was stronger than mine, was it not? Was he not an immortal? Was he not of Asgard, of Jotunheim?
Then why was his mind falling into that same pattern? Why did he never wish to see me hurt, as I never wished to see him hurt? Why were his mental shields so ineffective? Why could he not push me away?
Why did my mind seem almost as sharp as his? Why did we stand as equals? Had he been tricked? He did not see how. But this type of mental connection could only do so much to make us stand on equal footing; we would understand each other better, but it could not heighten my intelligence, my mental strength against his…
And yet… I had always been able to fight him. I had been fighting him since day one, had ripped my thoughts away from his, had battled at his mental barriers… and while his mind was more powerful than mine, I had eventually breeched all walls between us, had eventually made us into the enigma that we were now…
How was it possible, for a mind so weak to display that much power…?
Unless… unless he had been wrong.
Unless mortals truly did stand as his equals…
Impossible. Preposterous. He brushed the thoughts aside. He was reading far too much into this; and it would only make me happy, to see that doubt, to see that he was even considering such a thing. He pushed the thoughts away, locked them in the darkest corners of his mind, where he knew that I would not search for them. Where they would be safe, for now.
But secrecy never lasted long between us.
He started walking to the door again. I was still fast asleep and dreaming, but those dreams had taken a turn for the worst… perhaps that was what had turned his thoughts in this direction, was what had caused him to think along these somewhat darker paths. After all, I was dreaming of his death, just as he had so frequently dreamt of mine…
Fraye certainly was taking her toll…
As much as he did not wish to think of Fraye, he forced himself to do so nonetheless. She was our current enemy. The only enemy that mattered now. And she was the only reason why he was secretly happy that he had chosen me, out of all people, all that time ago… for if it had been anyone else, whether he was now a king or a prisoner, he would not be able to stand against Fraye. For he would not have me, and (unfortunately) the Avengers, at his side.
He keyed in the code to my door, then entered, his footsteps tapping out a quiet staccato on the floor. He set the coffee on the nightstand… then thought better of it and moved it aside. If I did decide to throw whatever was within arm's reach, it would not be a mug of hot coffee; that much was certain.
He placed a hand on my shoulder. "Miss Frost."
I didn't react.
"Natalie."
My eyes snapped open, and I bolted upright, throwing his hand off of my shoulder and jumping back, throwing myself off the bed. I would've landed in an epic, kick-ass ninja pose if my stupid blanket hadn't gotten in the way; instead, I ended up crashing to the floor. The sudden pain, combined with the nightmare that I'd just burst out of, sent me screaming and thrashing about.
Loki was by my side in a second; he clamped a hand over my mouth quickly, desperate to keep the Avengers from hearing me screaming like a little girl; if they thought he was hurting me, all of our plans, all of my lies, would have been for nothing… I tried to bite his fingers, but he looked me directly in the eye, speaking quick, rapid reassurances.
"It was a nightmare, Frost. Nothing more. You are safe."
I looked deep into his eyes, trying to reconcile the image of them with the image that had just been flickering behind my eyelids only seconds ago; the darkness pressing in, cutting across his face, pulling him into the blackness, Fraye laughing as the shadows tore into him… Loki smiled very softly.
"I am safe," he said, very quietly, removing his hand from my mouth. I kept my lips sealed, the scream no longer threatening to burst out of me… For a moment, I felt raw and fragile, like a little kid all over again, having to be reassured by some adult that the world really was a safe place… but then I smelt something familiar, and the rest of me clicked back into place; all of those years that made me who I was slotting back into position in my head, my mind reassembling itself.
I rubbed my eyes carefully. "Izzat coffee?" I asked, glancing around for the source of the smell. Loki sighed deeply and straightened from where he crouched beside me. He held out a hand to help me up, and I took it without even thinking; in fact, neither of us noticed the gesture until, suddenly, I was standing, my hand in his… we let go quickly, and I felt a prickle of mixed irritation and embarrassment on the back of my neck. We were getting far too comfortable around each other; helping one another in anything, even the littlest of gestures, was just so freaking natural…
"Yes," Loki answered a little haughtily, gesturing with one vague hand to the mug on the counter. He changed subjects on me quickly, before I could thank him for the unexpected act. "You should have been awake far sooner, Miss Frost. Our time is limited."
I gripped the coffee mug in my hands; my head still felt like someone was splitting it open with a jackhammer, and my every muscle ached from the lack of sleep… but I threw back enough coffee to sufficiently singe my tongue and burn my throat, and that woke me up pretty quick. "Yeah, yeah, sorry. What can I say? I stayed up late."
"So you mentioned earlier."
Did I? I tried to think; I had a vague memory of him waking me up earlier that morning, but as I'd been half dead, it was not much of a memory. I remembered his freezing fingers pretty well, though.
Whatever. I pushed that out of my head as I glanced to him, looking him up and down. The outfit he wore, despite the size difference, actually seemed to suit him quite nicely; I smiled a little as I caught sight of the green shirt beneath his black jacket. "I thought you'd like that shirt."
He glanced down at the article of clothing, a small frown tugging at his mouth. "It is not what I am accustomed to," he said slowly, "But it shall suffice for now."
I rolled my eyes. "Don't worry; I'm going shopping later today. You can come with, if the Avengers allow it."
"Doubtful."
"But possible," I shrugged. "You're not just trading one prison for another. I'm your Keeper. Not the Avengers. What I say goes."
"Ah. I'll be sure to mention that you said that to them, shall I?"
My lips pressed together as a long string of profanities sounded off in my head. I'd really opened myself up for that one, hadn't I?
He smiled softly, despite the foul language that was still streaming inside of my mind. He was used to my vulgarities by now; along with absolutely everything else. It was strange, how comfortable I felt having him here. How much better it was to have him beside me, as opposed to in that hole. We were so familiar with each other; a familiarity that the Avengers could not possibly hope to comprehend, as they could never be aware of the true nature of our connection… Loki was… an extension of myself. A second mind with a second heartbeat. I could feel his every breath as though it were my own… and having him next to me, well… the two of us fell into our relaxed roles, our proper places in the universe. It felt abnormally right, to have him here, as opposed to simply visiting him in that darkness…
I brushed the thoughts away. It was just so easy for me to be myself around him; because, really, who else could I be? So why wouldn't I react like the crazed, irritating college student I was? And why wouldn't he react like the usually-irritating-but-sometimes-kinda-nice-guy-ok -maybe-not-really-but-a-little-bit that he really was?
Again, I pushed aside the thoughts, changing subjects as I ran my fingers along the sides of my paper mug, trying to warm them. "Anything interesting happen while I was out?"
"Mildly," he replied callously, not even bothering to shrug as I scanned the memories in his head, the newest memories of the lot, as they had most recently occurred. I encountered a few walls and skirted around them; things that Loki did not wish for me to see, and thus I did not pry. My eyebrows went up.
"Banner seemed pretty friendly. Steve, too." I started gnawing on my thumbnail. "That's not something I would have expected."
Loki turned to the window, walking towards it. I was so used to him being here only via projection, so used to the melancholy twinge in his thoughts every time he looked out of my window and knew that he had none, knew that this was his only chance to see anything of a free world… it was almost disconcerting, now that this was no longer the case. But it was a good thing; I smiled a little to myself.
He did not speak again; nor did he turn to me. He merely began to scan my memories, to browse through the thoughts that I'd had the night before. The smile was wiped from my face as I threw up a hasty wall, unwilling to share what had happened… he noticed and turned, curious. I was usually very open about each and every one of my memories, save the ones where I was showering or whatnot. And, considering as I had yet to do that this morning, that was obviously not the case.
I sighed deeply. "Just… don't get too mad, ok?" I said, allowing the mental barrier to dissolve. Loki lifted an inquisitive eyebrow; not threatening, not currently, just… questioning. I felt him sift through the conversation I'd had the night before, the lie that I had told his brother…
He sighed through his nose, turning away to the window again. "Inevitable," he droned dully, not a trace of emotion in the word. His hands folded behind his back, his sleeve shifting so that I could just catch sight of the Key on his wrist, creeping out from beneath it. I looked down to my own wrists; the Key on one, the flat silver bracelet on the other. The symbols of my abilities, of my power; my power over Loki, and my power over myself. Yeah. My 'power'. Or maybe my chains, my shackles… I turned my thoughts back to the matter at hand before I could get too distracted by my own philosophical musings.
"I tried not to tell him anything," I struggled to explain. "But you know how it is, Loki. He's your brother." I felt magic dancing along Loki's fingertips, felt a barrier forming between us and the rest of the world… hiding us, cloaking us from sight. I kept talking, "He's going to figure these things out eventually; no matter how hard you try to hide it."
"If he knows everything about me, Miss Frost, then why has he not yet discovered my fear of the dark? My brother is a fool and a simpleton. He is as blind to me as the man who calls himself my father." His voice did not rise, but the words grew slightly more emphatic, with an underlying current of bitterness. It lingered just beneath each syllable, like swirling clouds of grey, upturned soil beneath the surface of a still pond. "It is not my brother's keen ability to read my emotions that make him a threat; it is your careless manner whenever you are in his presence."
My eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?" I asked, half in disbelief, half in indignation.
He turned to me, green eyes frosted over. Loki had always been the embodiment of ice-cold, patient fury. He rarely exploded, and when he did, you knew you had to run fast and hide faster. He closed his eyes, a collage of memories flashing behind his eyes and mine; I scanned them intently, trying to see what he was getting at… they were memories we shared of the times I had with Thor, laughing with him, punching him in the arm, hugging him in that aren't-we-bad sorta way… the two of us being the way we were, relaxed and happy… like brother and sister…
I scowled as my eyes opened again. "What's your point?"
He let out a faintly disgusted sound, looking to the floor. "Had you been in that situation, discussing the nature of my defeat with anyone but Thor, you would have been far more capable of fabricating a decent lie."
"That's bogus!" I complained. Loki arched an eyebrow.
"Is it?" he questioned; I didn't like his tone in the slightest. It was too dangerous. I didn't understand; I knew he'd be upset, but he shouldn't be this angry about it… he hadn't been just a second ago… But then, that was Loki. Whenever it came to Thor… it was like flipping a switch, turning off all the lights… pity, remorse, compassion… any good emotion inside of Loki was suddenly stuffed away in the darkness, banished into the black.
Another flash of memories danced behind my consciousness. A quick collection of all the times that I thought on my feet, all of the easy lies I told, all of the things that I said to keep everyone from knowing the truth about Loki, from knowing of his weaknesses… I waited until it had finished, my teeth grinding together, tasting metal.
"You know, I did all of that for you. I don't have to do any of that; I don't have to do any of this crap! And you know, last night, I-I was exhausted!" I was stuttering. I rarely stuttered; only when I was truly, mortally terrified or really, royally pissed. Right now, it was definitely the latter.
"I was totally wiped out, I mean, Fraye attacked me, I'd busted you outta jail, and then I stayed up until all hours of the night just to keep you from being afraid! I'd had a long day, and when Thor asked me about you, yeah, maybe I wasn't prepared, maybe I wasn't able to think of a lie quick enough, but come on! I think one out of five bazillion is still pretty good, don't you?! Just because it's Thor, doesn't mean that I have a-a… a soft spot for him or some crap! Just because it's Thor, just because he's like my bro-" I stopped, mid-tirade, mid-word. "Oh."
Loki, who had been listening to my furious rant in brooding, vengeful silence, blinked at the sudden stop. My eyes went round.
"That's it, isn't it?" I said, looking to Loki. "He's like my brother."
Confusion took over for a split-second, and he turned away from the window in order to face me completely, perplexed.
I sighed suddenly, very, very heavily, all of my frustration and angst coming out in that one singular gesture. I brought my hand up to my face, burying it in my fingers as I tried to think of how to phrase this without triggering a very serious nerve. There wasn't one.
Carefully, oh-so-carefully, taking a deep breath to make sure I remained calm and didn't try to throw this in his face, I said, "This isn't about me having a soft spot for Thor. This is about you having one." I pressed my fingertips together. "As usual, you are jealous. Only it's not just of Thor; you're jealous of me, and the relationship that I have with him." I looked him dead in the eye, unable to help the grave undertone as I said, "I'm the sibling that you can never be again."
I couldn't even begin to describe the expression on his face; nor the emotion that started to freeze out his heart. There are no words to depict what went on in his mind, nothing to portray what he felt. It could not be called pain, or anger, or hate… nor could it even be called a mixture of all three… it was not bleak and cold or white-hot and fiery… there is nothing that could explain it. It simply was.
"And because you can not have that kind of bond, because you have broken down your own relationship with Thor, because you believe that you have destroyed everything that made you brothers… because you think that a stupid little thing like heritage and blood matters… you have thus convinced yourself that this is a weakness." I pinched the bridge of my nose, shaking my head back and forth. "Because if you can't have it, no one can." I snorted in disgust. "You are such a child."
Ok. That pushed the wrong button. I had been fully intent on keeping my cool and saying that as delicately and tactfully as possible. But I had my own kind of rage to contend with; and it was the exact opposite of Loki's patient, arctic ire. No, my fury was the fiery, explosive, get-out-of-my-way-or-die kind of hatred. Rash and impulsive; I would grow more reckless as Loki grew more calculating, fire and ice battling it out, struggling for supremacy. The separate furies of glaciers and lava, frozen wastelands and raging volcanoes. His heart froze. My heart turned to ash. And we both became monsters.
I swear that Loki would have killed me. He totally would have, if he'd been given the chance, if he did not have the link holding him back, if he did not have thoughts of Fraye still looming above him like a vulture. His hands did not clench in fists, but rather, he stretched out his fingers at his sides, ready to create some kind of illusion, some kind of magical trick that would distract me, that would end me. But nothing came to completion; he could not destroy me and he knew it. We both knew it.
Feeling my heart smoldering, my skin steaming from the pure fire that had to be radiating out of me, I took another deep breath, trying to cool down, to keep my head. "Ok. Ok. All right. Just… look. I'm gonna back off for a while, ok? We can't afford to fight anymore, not like this, not… seriously. So I'm just… I'm gonna go take a shower, get outta my PJs, get dressed… give us some time out of each other's heads for a while, all right?"
He did nothing. Merely stood there. Glaring.
"Just… thirty minutes. Half an hour, neither of us talk to each other." I looked him in the eye. "But then this? This didn't happen. Neither of us said a word. We just get on with our lives as though nothing is wrong. Okay?"
His eyes were narrowed, studying me intently, scanning my weak points, my fighting flaws… still thinking of the best way to strike. But after a very long, weighted moment, he gave me a single terse nod.
I nodded back and turned away from him, scooping my cell phone up from the counter behind me. I always tended to check my messages in the morning, as I was usually up later then most sane people, and tended to miss a few calls. Not to mention the fact that I hadn't really had the chance to look at it yesterday, either. I took it with me and walked out of the room; Loki followed, a silent wraith, shadowing my every footstep as I walked to the elevator. I planned to lead him to a room with one of the Avengers and dump him there; let him be their problem for a while.
But, as I walked, I glanced to the small, over-bright screen in my hand. Five missed calls, three voicemails… two from my mother- no big surprise- and one from…
From…
April?
I blinked a few times, glancing to the number below the contact name. No. Not April's cell number, her home number. I still had it saved under the same contact. But my fingers didn't stop trembling; because even though that wasn't April's number, even though it wasn't her… the only other person at that house was her mother.
Ignoring Loki behind me, pressing the elevator button, I pulled up the voicemails and held the phone up to my ear. My mother's message was first; and her voice started through the speakers just as the elevator doors swished open; I stepped inside, grimacing.
"You need to keep your phone on, Natalie, I swear. Your father got a call the other day from your boss-what's his name? Director Fury?- anyway, he set up that appointment with that doctor you wanted… he's a very nice man, you know, I don't know why you complain about him so much."
Nice, mom. She had to know these phones were bugged, right? And beyond that, who the hell was she talking about, 'nice man'? She totally did not know Fury. At all. In the slightest.
"Anyway, he said you're really busy right now, said that you were supposedly dealing with a new threat… your father seemed to think along those same lines, too… Well, I think you should go to that doctor with him, it'd mean a lot if you were there by his side…"
My stomach dropped through the elevator floor as it led us downwards. I chewed on the inside of my cheek worriedly. I'd go with my dad, I didn't have a problem with that… but still… I glanced to Loki. I doubted I could even get out of the Tower to do so…
The Trickster stared stoically at the elevator doors, waiting for them to open again, waiting to get out of this claustrophobic room. I turned away and ignored him just as determinately as he was ignoring me.
"Well, give me a call when you get this." The message ended; I pressed the delete button and held the phone up next to my ear again. Immediately following a machine female's introduction, my mother's voice came back through the speakers again.
"Is it true, Natalie?" She demanded, her voice shaking. "Did you really… I mean, is he really back?"
My throat clogged.
"Tell me it isn't true. Tell me you didn't let him back onto our planet, please, Natalie… Your father… he's going out of his mind. I mean, after what Loki did to us… tell me you didn't ask to bring him back, please, Natalie…"
I deleted the message before it could finish, jamming my finger onto the touch-screen-button. My hands were shaking again. So this was how the Council got me back; by ordering one of their operatives to inform my parents on the situation… I wondered who it was. Clint? Natasha? Fury? Maybe one of them just did it on their own. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that someone had spilled the beans. Spilled them big.
I pressed the phone to my ear for the third and final time, eyes stinging. Mrs. Blackthorn never called me just to say hi. It was never for a good reason; it was always demanding something or other that April had given me over the years, old Christmas presents, birthday gifts… something. That was if she called at all…
For a long time, there was silence on the phone. A recording of nothing. But then I heard it; someone breathing, very softly, on the other end… there was a soft, choking sound, as though she had tried to say something and stopped before it could ever come out into the world… Silence again. A long silence.
Then, "I…I…"
I listened in rapt attention; the elevator doors had long ago opened, but Loki and I were still standing there, in that small room, unmoving, immobile.
There was a stifled sound, like someone covering a sob… and then a click. The message ended. I deleted it quickly, then disconnected from my voicemail, shoving my phone deep into my pocket, tucking it away, out of sight from the rest of the world. Well. This morning had been very kind to my emotions. First Loki and I coming to blows, then remembering my father's lesions, then my mother's disapproval on my choice and April's mother's pain bleeding over onto me… I'd been awake, what, half an hour? Tops?
My life sucks.
I started to stalk out of the elevator, to stomp off down the halls, just wanting to get away from all of this, to rip my thoughts from Loki's for a while and just have a few minutes of peace… But as I left, I felt his cold hand as an unexpected, and hesitant, weight on my shoulder. I turned, whirling to face him, fire burning in my eyes once again…
He was studying me. His eyes had softened considerably; I knew that he was trying to hold onto his hate, that he was clinging to it desperately, trying to stay mad at me… but my pain was wearing him down, an ocean against the cliff face of a mountain, the slow and eventual crumbling… His hand stayed on my shoulder. The two of us were not so uncomfortable with physical contact; I tended to be a bit of a touchy-feely, let-me-hug-you type of person, and I had a nasty habit of enforcing that around Loki. (Well, I'd never dared to hug the guy, but still, this sort of thing wasn't uncommon.)
I hadn't realized that I was crying until I looked him face-to-face, eye-to-eye, and saw myself as he saw me, saw myself in his mind. I reached up quickly and wiped the moisture away with my fingertips. Loki removed his hand from my shoulder, his former coldness returning in a heartbeat. I gave him a curt nod, acknowledging his action; he was covering my weaknesses just as I was covering his. If the Avengers saw me crying, they wouldn't rest until they knew why. And right now, neither of us had time for that.
I started forwards again, keeping my focus on not allowing the tears to spill again as I tore down the hallway, leading Loki to one of the living rooms… the second I saw Steve in there, I stopped, leaning in through the doorway.
"Cap!" I called. He looked to me, turning away from his book. I jabbed a thumb towards Loki. "I'm taking a shower. Baby-sit the Norse god of Irritating for me, will you?"
He smiled a little and nodded, looking to Loki, who ignored him. He breezed into the room as I ran out of it, back down the halls, back to the elevator, away from the staring eyes of the Avengers, away from Loki's thoughts… as I made it back inside and the doors hissed shut behind me, I used that as a visual, closing my mind to anything and everything, blocking out the world, leaving me with nothing but me, my own private thoughts, my own little world.
Before I reached my floor, however, I jammed my fist into the emergency stop button. "JARVIS, don't call for help, ok? Just leave it alone."
"Understood, Miss Natalie."
I looked at the silver doors, looked at the seam between them, the line where they closed… for some reason, I had the strange urge to pry them open, to see the cold, empty shaft that they hid, to see the mechanics that we never really thought of… My mind swam on this tangent for a long time, whirling and dancing about the cables that held this metal cage aloft, threading itself in between the cogs and machinery that kept everything going…
And then suddenly, I was on my knees, my face in my hands… and I was crying again.
A/N: Hopefully the next chapter will not take forever to update, and I plan for it to be absurdly long. Whether or not I'm biting off more than I can chew still remains to be seen. Thank you all for your patience and a double thank you to all of my reviewers!