The Avenging of Loki Laufeyson

by YouLookLikeFOOD

"So… the shadows are coming to life, we're all gonna die, and the only way to save three separate worlds is for Loki and the Avengers to quit whining and work together for once. And of course, I'm the one who, somehow, has to make that work out. Yep, sounds like a Tuesday. When's my coffee break?" Sequel to 'The Avenging of Natalie Frost'. T for violence and language.

9. Doesn't Play Well With Others

A/N: Well… It looks like I did indeed bite off more than I could chew. -_- Fun.

And I know that I'm late… BUT LOOK HOW LONG THIS THING IS. OH MY GOSH. THIS TOOK FOREVER. AND NOW MY BRAIN FEELS LIKE COTTAGE CHEESE.

On lighter notes: wow, I got a lot of song suggestions last time. :) Thank you all so much for that. :D

Also, a few of you mentioned the whole transition I had where it was sort-of-almost-in-Loki's-POV-but-not-really… well, I'm glad some of you like that, because it's going to happen a lot. -_-

So! Hope you enjoy. :)

---

I emerged from my room about forty minutes later, having cried myself out, showered, and changed into the ensemble I was now wearing; black tank top, baggy camo pants, and army green fingerless gloves, the wrist of which reached up high enough to hide the Key. My hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, not a strand out of place, but my bangs still dangled in front of my eyes. No jewelry; today was a training day. I had to keep things simple, light, with nothing holding me back, nothing that could catch or snag on something else. Black sneakers were tied extra-tight, the shoelaces bundled up in a few extra knots to keep me from tripping over them.

I pulled myself together with a few deep breaths, then dropped all of my mental walls. Loki sensed this and allowed his to vanish into smoke as well. While my pain had semi-disappeared from his mind, he had been free to brood and plot against me for my earlier words and actions… but now was not the time for that. And we both recognized it.

I, too, had quelled my anger; forced it to remain locked away in a point near my heart, to be used at a later time, to be looked at when I had the opportunity, when my fury would become necessary. But now was not that time.

I retrieved Loki from where I'd left him with the Captain before walking with him back to his room. The two of us stayed in surly silence for a while, neither of us speaking as I closed the door behind us, turning to him, arms folded as I looked him up and down.

"Right," I said, forcing myself to sound businesslike, to keep everything perfectly professional, to stop the two of us from screaming at each other. I was right, I knew I was right, and that was all that mattered. "The idea's simple. You're afraid of the dark, so you sit in the dark for a while until you get over it. Immersion therapy. Easy."

His eyes glinted. "Easy," he echoed without any feeling.

"But, there's a catch," I said, scowling a little. This was an idea I'd had last night; but if I'd known that the two of us were going to be bickering this badly, I would have completely ignored it. This wasn't going to work with the two of us arguing like this. "Simultaneously, I want us to work on our link."

His eyes narrowed; whether in thought or bloodlust, I wasn't certain. I explained, "You know that whole 'merging' bit our minds do whenever we agree on something? Where the two of us totally and completely cooperate with each other, our thoughts nigh inseparable?" He didn't bother to nod. I went on, "And that's what we always do whenever we're fighting together, right? Which means that when Fraye attacks again, that is going to be your likely state of mind. So you're going to have to learn how to be in the darkness, while at the same time keeping us from going too fear-crazy." I looked him in the eye. "We can't have a repeat of last time. If one of us goes out of commission, we both do; and Fraye takes us all down. Clear enough?"

"Crystal," he answered bleakly.

"Good." I said curtly, then flipped off the light switch. I navigated my way over to where he was in the dark, tripping over something and cursing softly before I scattered the glow across my skin. I saw his face in the gloom, watching me, the darkness shadowing his features as he glowered.

I sat down on the floor; he folded himself into a seat across from me, closing his eyes as I snuffed the glow, sending us back into darkness. I closed my own eyes as well.

"All right. There's gotta be something we agree on," I said, focusing on my words, and not on Loki's fear. "Something that we both want to accomplish."

"Destroying Fraye," Loki answered softly. I winced.

He sighed heavily, his eyes opening; he shut them quickly, pretending that he had seen nothing, imagining that he was still in a room filled with light, that the sun blazed in through the window despite the thick curtain that I had strung across it. "Do not tell me that your goals on this matter have changed."

"Well, I don't want to kill her, if that's what you mean."

"You're impossible, Frost," he said breathlessly, incensed.

"Whatever. Let's just find something else we agree on, yes?"

He scowled. "Staying alive, perhaps?" He asked dryly. "Or is that also something you no longer wish to do?"

I sighed heavily, forcing myself to be the better person and not react to that. My anger was threatening to resurge again, and I took a moment to focus it back into its pinpoint, back into a little dot that rested just behind my heartbeat. Closing my eyes so tightly that bright colors began to flare behind my eyelids, I allowed my mind to open up, allowed all walls between us to vanish, and tried to search for a thread of thought that could connect us together. There were few things that Loki and I agreed on; but when we did, we could be nigh unstoppable.

If we could just focus on that… focus on what made us powerful…

"We both want to stop Fraye, at least," I said at last, brushing aside all other thought. "We might want to do it in different ways, but there's no doubt that she's dangerous. That we'll have to fight her."

Loki considered my words, then nodded curtly; I could feel the gesture, though I could not see it through the dark and through my own closed eyes. "Agreed," he said softly, musingly. I kept my eyes shut, trying to focus on that, trying to force that bond that Loki and I so often forged in battle…

It was so very different, trying to make our minds flood together without the aid of adrenaline, without the help of the war singing in our veins. But slowly, tentatively, our thoughts meshed, our brains following along the same track, the same current. Walking down the same path. Working together, just like we should be.

I felt Loki in the darkness, felt him as though he were a part of myself, felt him in the same way I felt my arms or legs, hands and feet. He was another extension of myself, and I was an extension of him. Moving together, almost like the same person; our breathing synchronized, our heartbeats drumming to the same slow, steady beat.

Slowly, we opened our eyes.

The fear slammed into us both; originating from Loki, perhaps, but with all of our walls down, there was nothing to separate the two of us, nothing to protect me from it. We gasped as one, but I grit my teeth as Loki stared into the black, his heartbeat growing more rapid, mine joining suit.

Determination flowed in our blood; we were not going to let a little darkness make us afraid. Fraye had done many things to Loki; many terrible, horrible, awful things… but the worst of all was that she'd instilled fear into his heart, that she'd made him fear the darkness, he, the Trickster, the manipulator, the man who worked in the shadows, now banned from that which had once cloaked him. Which had once saved him.

And suddenly, our link grew stronger. Screw stopping Fraye; my anger came back all at once, now re-directed. This was what we agreed on, above everything else. Loki had been made to fear, had been given a weakness (a weakness beyond just me). We could not allow that to happen again, could not allow Fraye to have the satisfaction of scaring him. Of banishing him from the dark.

We had to fight back.

Fed by this agreement, our link held fast for a great deal of time. We stared into the darkness together, our minds wandering down the same paths, traveling down twisting, winding roads, creating strategies and thinking over battle tactics, imagining fights and how they would go. Some of these imaginings included Fraye; most of them did, in fact. But many others were focused on other things; the Avengers, for one. Thinking of arguments they may have for various facets of life, coming up with counterarguments, things that were cold and logical and undeniable, things that they could not refute. We thought of Asgard, of Midgard, of Jotunheim. We thought of Loki's family, thought of my own, thought of ways to deal with the various situations involved in each. On these things, our link would occasionally waver, and we would be forced to think of other things to keep it steady and strong.

Loki's fear reappeared many, many times; mostly when he was not thinking intently enough, mostly when he allowed himself to focus on the darkness. If, for even a second, he let himself think about the shadows he was sitting among, allowed himself to wonder what he would do if they suddenly sprang to life, let himself think about the probabilities of such a thing occurring… then the fear would come back again, and we would be forced to push it away, to battle it back, again and again, over and over…

We stayed this way for over an hour; then, utterly exhausted, Loki whispered, "Enough," and broke away from my thoughts. It sent a ripping, tearing sensation splitting down from my skull, all the way through the rest of my body, and I sucked in a breath through my teeth, trying not to cry out. It was very disorienting, to suddenly be 'by myself' again. Despite how his thoughts were still very much there, despite how they were lingering in the back of mine, I almost felt as if I were alone.

I took a long moment to gather myself together again, to seal the split edges together as Loki unfolded himself from the ground and stood. He flicked on the light switch, walked to his bed and lowered himself onto it, sitting down and running his hands over his face.

I pulled myself up off the floor and walked over to him, a shade more re-oriented now, but still feeling slightly queasy. I sank into a seat next to him. I, too, was completely exhausted; fear can do that to a person, and Loki had been fighting it for so long, so trapped inside of his prison cell…

"Hey," I said, my tone a lot kinder than it had been an hour ago, my earlier resentment forgotten. I was too tired to stay angry. Loki turned to me as I nudged his shoulder. "You did good. Better than I thought you would on your first go."

He turned away again, his gaze hard despite the bags that I suddenly noticed under his eyes. His hands were trembling. So were mine. "It was not enough," he answered, the barest breath of a sound, hissed through his bright white teeth. His face was impassive and cold despite the tiredness there.

"These things take time," I said gently, placing a hand on his arm. He jerked away in irritation, standing and walking to the other end of the room, where there was enough space for him to start pacing. He did so, walking back and forth with quick, agile strides.

"Time?" He asked smoothly, his voice colder than cold. "Time, Miss Frost, is one thing we are sorely lacking. Fraye may choose to attack tomorrow, or to wait for years. In either scenario, we are completely and utterly at her mercy. Again." The last word was snarled out, venom dripping. I quirked an eyebrow.

"Again?" I asked, leaning back a touch and folding my arms over my chest, feeling my eyes spark just slightly. In my best shrink-voice, aiming for compassion as opposed to hostility, I pointed out, "This is my first time. The Avengers' too." For a moment, I panicked, double-checking to make sure we were still shielded from JARVIS and Heimdal; but of course, we were. Loki would never make such a careless, rookie mistake.

"Then be grateful for that," he sneered. "Though it may also be your last."

My mind started buzzing. Again. Dammit.

I knew I didn't have time to talk this out with Loki, knew that I had to go out and retrieve clothes for him before we did our actual 'training' with the Avengers… And I was already exhausted… but still I wanted to stay here, to linger, to discuss this with him. Loki had alluded to the things that Fraye had done to him, had alluded to the tortures she had forced him to suffer through… spoken of how he had been completely helpless, powerless, under her command, at her mercy… But he had never spoken with me openly about it, had never told me what she had actually done. So far, I had been very good, very patient, letting him tell me what he could, when he could. It was the reason why April had been such a good friend to me, and now it was the reason why I would be such a good friend to everyone else.

But because of that, every little hint he gave me, I pounced on. Tried to dig deeper, to probe further into the mechanism, to figure him out.

However, the thing that had really gotten my brain working was the fact that he had included me in what he'd said; that we were all completely and utterly at her mercy again. It had been an interesting slip, if you could call it that.

"We can't rush this," I said, keeping my voice calm and soothing. "Fear isn't something that will go away overnight, no matter how hard you try." My gaze softened. "And it's not a weakness; it's normal. Everyone has fear."

"Not you."

I blinked, startled. There was a dark sincerity in his eyes as his gaze turned to mine, sending shivers through me. I laughed it off. "That's not true and you know it. Needles, remember? Spiders? Myself?"

His gaze pierced through mine, scanning me, searching me from the inside out. "But you do not fear death," He noted, his voice that subtle, dancing wind, a twisted current of air that weaved its way about me.

Ok, that was half-true. I was scared of death; I was terrified, actually. But I'd been faced with the idea that I would die painfully a very long time ago; back when all of this first started. There even came a point when I asked the Avengers to kill me, if necessary. No, I didn't want it, no, I wasn't suicidal, but yes, I had accepted that all things will eventually die, including me. And I lived with it.

Since then, fear of death wasn't really the issue. Fear for others, fear for my world, fear for Loki or Thor or Tony or Steve or Banner or even Natasha and Clint… those fears had replaced it. Healthier fears. Better fears, if there was ever such a thing. Fears that motivated, rather than hindered me.

But that didn't mean I was totally unafraid of dying. It's just that, when it came right down to it, so long as I went down fighting, I could live with it.

"And death is your only fear," I concluded for him, realization settling in. "I do not fear it, and you fear it too much. You are petrified of the things that Fraye did to you, the things that she can do again, and thus that makes you fear the dark. You fear pain and death, which is why you're afraid of losing me. All of your fears… stem from that one thing."

In the time that I had been speaking, Loki had resumed his furious pacing. Now, I stood and walked over to him, placing my hand on him to stop him. This time, he did not try to throw me off, but rather halted, looking at me. A person with a death wish who was simultaneously afraid of death. The more I learned about Loki, the more twisted he got.

"Your fears are irrelevant to the situation," he told me. "Mine are not." He turned, giving the ground a steely glare. "And, given my connection with you, they could easily get you killed." He looked to me. "You know this. And though I have continually stopped you, reprimanded you for doing things that could destroy me, you haven't once made mention of this fact."

My eyebrow went up again. "You can't help what you're afraid of. I can't blame you for that."

"I would have." There was no hesitation, no debate in this. He would have blamed me for a fear of the dark, would have berated me fiercely for it, would not have helped me. He would have mocked me. Scorned me.

"Well, that's why I'm the shrink, innit?" I retorted. "Compassion is my thing, not yours."

He glanced away, looking into the mirror, studying our reflections there. I followed his gaze and realized that my hand was still on his arm. I didn't move it.

"You turned your fear of death into fear for your world, for your friends. And thus you are not afraid when you come face to face with Fraye; you can fight her, with little to no regard for yourself." His eyes met mine in the reflection, slightly perplexed. "You turned your greatest weakness into your greatest strength."

I gave him a look, staring back in the mirror. My greatest weakness, from his eyes: the Avengers. My family. The people I cared about. Him. He understood it; he had his own issues with his family, his own weaknesses involving Thor and Odin and Frigga and everyone else. But he did not have to like it, did not have to view it as anything but aflaw.

But the fact that I was using it in my favor… I smiled lightly.

"Makes you think, don't it?" I asked, nudging him playfully. All of my anger from earlier had vanished; I couldn't stay mad at him for long. Unlike Loki's icy fury, which could remain coated around his heart for a very, very long time, my fiery rage burnt itself out fairly quickly.

"Maybe caring about other people isn't a weakness at all," I pressed, wrapping my arms around his, squeezing it tightly as I looked into the mirror. I rested my head on his arm for a second; it was a little more personal than our usual contact, but not by much. Like I've said; I'm a touchy-feely kinda person, big on hugging and holding hands and all that mushy-gushy crap. Half of the Avengers were used to me hugging them and stuff; and Loki, reluctantly, was used to it as well. Even if I'd never actually 'hugged' him. Meh, whatever.

"Maybe it can be a strength," I added, as his reflected gaze flickered down to me. I smiled a little; the idea that he was even thinking along these lines was a major breakthrough in and of itself; one of those moments when all those months of therapy sessions seemed worth it. Proof that I wasn't just beating my head against a brick wall.

"Miss Frost?"

"Hmm?"

"Release my arm."

I rolled my eyes and let go of him, pushing him lightly as I walked to the other side of the room, over towards the door. "Grumpy guts," I teased, twisting the door handle. He hesitated before his reflection for a moment, then turned, following me impassively. I felt a lot better suddenly, a little more awake, a little happier. My footsteps were no longer so leaden, the endless weight on my shoulders and chest not quite so debilitating. I headed off to my room, with Loki following, and retrieved my purse from inside.

"Right!" I said, a little brighter than earlier. "I'm going to the store. Gonna fix…" I scrunched up my face and gestured to the clothes hanging limply on his frame. "That. Any preference on which Avenger I dump you with, or are you just unhappy with everyone?"

He arched one careful eyebrow, clasping his hands behind his back, his feet aligned perfectly with his shoulders. The magical energy that hid us from the rest of the world dissipated from around us. "It matters not," he said coolly; it was the strangest thing. Even when he was showing no emotion whatsoever, even when his features were blank and his eyes hollow… there was always such a hidden depth to his each and every word…

"All right, then," I said, slinging my purse over my shoulder. "I'll be back in time for training, but if I'm not, don't let them start without me, clear?"

"You believe I will have any say in what the Avengers do?"

"I believe that I'll talk through you if I have to; but they're gonna listen whether they like it or not," I answered firmly, closing my door, hearing the locks click into place. A slight frown tugged on his lips; he did not like the idea of me using his voice to speak, any more than I had liked the idea of him using mine. But before he had the chance to protest, something else happened; an unexpected pain flared through his stomach, which growled suddenly. We both froze, utterly still for a brief second, the sound lingering in the air as a hollow note. I looked at him, incredulous.

"You haven't eaten yet," I realized suddenly. I swear Loki turned red.

"The opportunity never presented itself," he countered smoothly, his voice quiet, his manner composed.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Crap. Loki, I'm so sorry, I completely forgot." In fairness, he had forgotten as well, what with the drama of the entire morning, but I still felt responsible. When I'd sifted through the memories of what he'd done this morning while I'd been asleep, I'd noted his reluctance to actually eat anything in front of the Avengers; and his conclusion to simply wait until I pushed some food his way. I'd practically agreed to go along with that, then forgotten about my end of the bargain. Brilliant, Natalie. Just Brilliant.

"Come on," I said, heading towards the elevator. I hadn't eaten either, now that I thought about it, but that wasn't so uncommon for me. I jammed my finger on the button, and the two of us went inside, Loki standing beside me as I ran through Midgardian food that would not make him retch in my head.

When we left the elevator and arrived in the kitchen, none of the other Avengers were there. I contemplated just ditching Loki there and leaving him to fend for himself, but decided against it; not the greatest ideas, considering what Clint or Natasha or even Tony might do if they saw him there alone.

I yanked open the fridge and cupboard doors, scanning everything. Thor, I knew, had a curious affinity for Pop Tarts; but I had a sneaky suspicion that Loki would turn his nose up at anything that his brother liked. Steve liked hot chocolate, Tony was addicted to donuts… but what the hell did Loki eat that wasn't prison food? I mean, I was pretty well acquainted with his tastes, but that was all Asgardian stuff; the best equivalent of those lavish, gourmet meals that we had here was a chicken that was stuffed into the back of the fridge; and chicken wasn't really Loki's thing, anyway. He was a bit more of a vegetarian.

Loki hovered at my shoulder as I gestured helplessly to the inside of the cupboard. "Anything you like the look of?"

He scanned the titles on the boxes and cans, the food turning cold in the fridge… And eventually just shrugged carelessly. I rolled my eyes, then cracked and just decided to make some toast. And a salad, 'cause contrary to that skinny frame, I knew this dude could have an appetite.

"Bear in mind," I told him as I pulled out the bread, "I get my cooking skills from my mother's side of the family. So don't expect anything too fancy."

He said nothing, but he knew there was truth in my words. I was a slightly better cook than my mother, but considering her rather impressive ability to set fire to everything-including ice cream- that wasn't saying a whole lot. I could skate by on making the basics, but no one could expect a full-course meal out of me.

I set off to make the toast while Loki sat down at the table. I tuned him out a bit as I worked, not really caring what he was doing: just leaving him to his own devices. When the Avengers were not around, I could leave him alone a lot more, give him a little bit more room, more space, more freedom. When they were around, I had to keep a super-close eye on him; because if I didn't, they would. And they saw hostile intent everywhere, in every little action. By keeping my eye on him all the time, I was forcing myself to be the lesser of two evils, really.

But, for now at least, I knew Loki wasn't planning anything. I knew that there was no malice, no malignance in these everyday motions and movements. He was just Loki, getting breakfast. Asgardians need to eat too, people.

Still, if one of the Avengers walked in right now, they'd probably get all freaked out. I wasn't looking directly at Loki, not anymore, my mind on other things as opposed to just him. I'd know if he chose to do something as stupid as run away-which he wouldn't-so it didn't matter, anyway.

I finished the salad as the toaster dinged. Setting the bowl of greens in front of him, my nose wrinkled. I'd been eating healthier lately, due to the fact that I was sick of the pizza that Tony's Seriously Old Joke was stuffing down my throat, but even after eating a lot of greens, it still tasted like I was mowing a lawn with my teeth. I finished the toast and pulled out a bowl and some cereal for myself.

For a while, we ate in silence, sitting at opposite ends of the table; then I swallowed and, nudging a few cheerios around the edge of the bowl, asked, "So, anything in particular that you want, or should I just go with my instinct?"

He didn't need to ask to know that I was talking about the clothes. He contemplated that for a moment, chewing thoughtfully, but when he swallowed, he shook his head. "It does not matter. Do what you wish."

I lifted an eyebrow. A mean little smile found its way onto my face. "You're giving me free reign of what you wear?" I leaned on my elbow, a little closer to him. "And exactly how smart do you think that is?"

"You chose the shirt well enough," he answered, his voice toneless as he gestured vaguely to the green shirt on his form. "There will, of course, be consequences should you fail."

"Of course," I replied with mock-sincerity. "Can't have the Trickster wearing a lovely pink, Hawaiian flower-print shirt now, can we?" I closed my eyes. "Ah, yes. That disturbing mental picture shall indeed never leave me for as long as I live."

"Agreed."

I grinned at him. He gave me a little look in return; since our fight earlier this morning, he'd gotten a lot quieter, more contemplative. His anger, too, had been quelled, had dissipated following our little 'training' session, and now he was left with nothing but his cold, calculating thoughts, his emotions no longer touching the clearer parts of his mind.

"You have your battle armor readily available, though, correct?" I inquired, though I was certain this was the case.

"Naturally."

He'd always been able to kinda magic up his armor; I was still a little rusty as to how all of that worked, despite everything. I had a pretty good idea of most magic, but being a 'mortal', I couldn't possibly understand everything about how it worked.

"I just don't think that's a good thing to wear while sparring," I mused after a moment, stirring my cereal, making it go round and round in a little whirlpool, barely thinking about it. "Especially with the helmet. I mean, that sucker just looks gnarly sometimes."

"It is a war helmet, Miss Frost," he pointed out, still very calm and composed.

I scowled. "So is everyone else's; Thor's, Odin's, Heimdal's, all the others. Yours just looks a bit more… twisted."

"Psychological warfare, as you have so frequently mentioned, and so fervently believe, is as much a part of battle as the sword."

Oh-ho. Little Frostbite was using my own stuff against me again. "Yes," I acknowledged, "But you're not really fighting with the Avengers right now, are you? No. You're working with them. Training with them. Save the psych warfare for Fraye."

He scoffed very quietly. "I highly doubt something so trivial will intimidate a destroyer of worlds."

"Touché."

The two of us fell into silence; as usual, it wasn't anywhere near uncomfortable. None of the Avengers disturbed us, which was good, because it was surreal enough to be sitting next to Loki while he ate toast without them; I could only begin to imagine what it would be like if they started staring as badly as I knew I was. It was just so… odd. Like when Thor came over to my house and sat in my living room in full medieval garb, war hammer and all, with the TV right next to him and my laptop a few feet away. See, that is weird.

Well, this was a little easier, seeing as Loki was in Midgardian clothes, but it was still strange. There were times when the two worlds- my two worlds- clashed badly. This was definitely one of those times.

I cleared up the dishes while Loki stood beside me- I'd lost another video game war with Tony and had to do the dishes anyway- and turned back to him, drying off my hands with a dish towel.

"So." I said, ticking things off on my fingers. "The plan, as it now stands: get an Avenger to baby-sit you, go shopping, come back, get you a weapon…" He gave me a look. "What?" I demanded. "You're going to need one. How else are you supposed to fight Fraye? Or, more to the point, how are you even supposed to train?"

His eyes glinted as he held his pale hand forwards, clenched in a fist; he opened it, long, thin fingers pressed together, palm up, and fire sparked into life across it, dancing and weaving, a small but ferocious light. "Must it be asked?"

I scowled. "That's not going to be enough." I gestured to the flames. "That is useless as an offensive weapon, and what deadly magic you have in your arsenal should probably not be used in close quarters, around your allies. That leaves you with nothing but your tricks and, of course, personal fighting skills; and that's not going to be so effective against certain Avengers in a sparring match."

He extinguished the flames with a flourish, lowering his loosely-clenched fist to his side. "You are aware of this, and I am aware of this, but I highly doubt that the Avengers will listen to either of us."

"Thor knows, too," I cut in. "Two of us vouching for you getting a weapon should be enough. Particularly if it's us. I mean, come on. We're the picture of innocence."

Despite the reference to his brother, a glint ran through Loki's eye. "You?" He questioned, the barest hint of skepticism in that single word; and yet, the incredulity bled through nonetheless.

I gave him a sharp look, re-considered, then rolled my eyes, nodding. "Fair enough." I picked my purse up from where I'd draped it over my chair and slung it over my shoulder instead. "But Thor is an Avenger. They listen to their own."

The bitterness that managed to escape my chest and latch itself onto those words did not slip Loki's notice. As the two of us left the room together, he kept his eyes on me, studying me… but then he looked forwards again. He knew my opinion on the Avengers, knew how badly I'd once wished to be one of them … knew that I'd had the right to call myself one at a point in time long ago…

And he knew that it was his fault that I never could.

It was one of the many things that I had given up to keep this link with Loki; the chance to become one of the heroes I so admired. Those words had never been spoken out loud, it had never been said to me that I could not be an Avenger because of Loki, but that much was-and had always been- extraordinarily clear to me. The only time that it had been said that I'd earned the right to call myself an Avenger (according to Tony and Steve) had been before I'd clued them into the fact that I was keeping Loki in my head for the rest of my life. They'd never retracted the statement, but I didn't expect them to stick by it, either.

But it was ok. I was content with what I was; their 'shrink', their friend. An honorary Avenger, if I had to be; and I'd kick butt on Fraye with the rest of them. But I wasn't exactly… one of them. How could I be, if one of their greatest enemies knew my every thought, knew everything that they said to me, knew all of our battle tactics, our strategies?

How could they trust me, if they knew I was a spy?

The two of us went to the elevator; I handed custody of Loki over to the first Avenger I found- and I made certain that Avenger was Banner- before skipping off out of the room and heading to the store, already planning things in my mind, trying to match things that were closest to his usual wear. Tony tried to stop me before I made it out; he didn't want Loki planning anything without me there to warn everyone. I answered that I could still call them, and besides that, the most powerful Avengers were still in the Tower, and could kick his ass if needed. Clint joined the party, saying that this was a luxury we couldn't afford, what with Fraye out on the loose, but eventually I convinced them both that it would be best for everyone if Loki didn't have to depend on borrowing everyone else's clothes. That was bound to lead to a whole mess of awkward.

As I set off on my less-than-epic quest, Loki sat in the corner of the room with Banner, his eyes closed. He was seated, as usual, on the floor; it seemed that the Trickster did not believe in such petty things as 'furniture'. Unless there was a throne involved. He definitely believed in those.

He turned his thoughts inward, trying to ignore the fatigue that was weighing heavily on his mind. He hated admitting it, but he knew from experience how utterly exhausting fear could be. And fighting it was often even more so. Quite honestly, he was tempted to simply return to his room and fall asleep until I returned; but nervous energy was in his blood, making it hard for him to remain in the perfectly still, seated position he was in. It did not matter how tired he was; there was too much at stake for him to allow himself sleep.

Instead, Loki delved into the darkest corners of his mind, searching the thoughts that he buried there. Seeing as I was no longer paying attention to him and what he was doing, and he was not paying attention to me or what I was doing, he had no qualms with dredging up these dark secrets, bringing them to light. I would not notice, after all; my mind was too preoccupied with other things.

But he had wanted to search those memories again, those times in which Fraye had him. He wanted to see if there was something, anything at all, that he had missed; perhaps something that he would have thought irrelevant at the time, something that would not have seemed prevalent in the days before he had met me. Something that, perhaps, I could use, even though he could not. Our battle tactics, after all, varied quite greatly. And while he stood by his assertion that psychological warfare was not the best way to fight Fraye- and, indeed, that it was a complete waste of time- he also knew that I would not let it rest. And he was full aware that this was how I beat my enemies; by understanding them. Even if I could not fight them from the inside out, I could still figure out other, very important things from understanding their minds. After all; I'd correctly identified Banner as the Hulk after spending only a short time with him. Granted, the options of who he could be were limited, but it was still mildly impressive.

Loki kept his eyes closed. It was another battle, to force himself to re-live the moments, to force himself to imagine himself in that place again, going through the movements, step by painful step. But it was a battle he had to face sooner or later; Fraye could come back at any time, after all.

He had no time for weakness.

He took a long, slow, deep breath through his nose, his legs folded, his hands resting on his knees Loki, being an illusionist, had always been able to turn that ability inwards, to paint pictures of things that had passed so vividly in his mind, so that he could see those details that he had once missed, so that he could hear those things that had slipped his notice once before... Imagining himself in another time, another place, the world seemed to dim and fade around him, and the memory seized hold…

He was standing on the ashes of a ruined planet, a broken world. A place long dead, with nothing but the whispering of ghosts to stir the black and grey cinders that lay scattered across the ground. A world burnt to nothing.

At least here, the world was burnt; far away, in a long-dead city, there had been bodies, old and bloodied, skeletal screams still ringing silently in the still air. Bodies of those who had tried to escape, those clinging to loved ones when they realized it was futile, those begging and pleading for mercy that would never come…

Loki had seen much of this world in his search for the Shadow Child, the one that the Jotuns so greatly feared. He had decided to abandon this search if he did not find her here; he had wasted too much time chasing shadows, pursuing a legend. But he had been so sure, so certain that she was real, that these myths were more than what they appeared to be… and if this was, indeed, her handiwork, then she would make an impressive ally… or a formidable foe.

But Loki was not called the Silver Tongue for nothing. When he spoke, people listened. They fell in love with his honeyed words, his sugared lies that coiled themselves around their hearts, which drew them towards him. This one would be no different, he was confident. He could convince her to work with him, if she did indeed exist. He could persuade her to seize control of Midgard, to use her powers in his favor. There had to be something that she loved, something that she wanted above all else, and he could promise her that, could give her anything she desired… if she would only be loyal long enough to take Midgard, he could promise anything…

"Blood, my little Laufeyson."

Loki, startled, whirled to the sound of the noise, disturbing the ashes of the dead, stirring up clouds which lingered at his feet in the manner of silent phantoms. Something rattled at his shoes; pebbles and stones, all black and grey with the occasional bleach-bone-white rock. All of them buried beneath the dusting of ash and cinders, the powder that coated the world.

He glanced up from the stones at his feet and saw the woman standing there.

Death clung to her; that much was obvious from the first glance. It held her tightly within its skeletal arms, cradling her in its care, clutching her possessively. She belonged to Death, walked in the land of the living through some grim flaw, some mistake that had been made. Her skin was as pale as parchment, stretched taut over sharp joints and hollow ribs, her fingers small and skeletal. A tattered black cloak poured down from her shoulders and sashayed around the ground, stirring up shadows. Her hair, similarly black, was perhaps the healthiest thing about her; full and half-shining, it framed her face perfectly; a face that was as emaciated as the rest of her. Dull, dead, pitch-black eyes stared at him without light, without warmth and without depth. There was a twisted smile on her face, the smile of one with nothing to lose, the smile of a demented mind, a mind filled with pure insanity… but those eyes held nothing. That smile did not touch them; they remained lifeless.

She wore a black dress that flowed down past her knees; a formal garment, for a place such as this, and in a very clearly Asgardian style. There were no shoes on her bare feet; they showed, starkly white, against the black ash.

"You wish to know what I want?" She went on. Her voice was high, lilting, musical. A beautiful voice for such a grim, sorry figure. "Blood, my little Laufeyson. I want blood. I want Death to reign over this universe, with Chaos its queen, Destruction its mistress." She laughed; it was a strangely happy laugh, at odds and disjointed from her words.

Loki scanned her up and down, studying her for a long moment. But then he smiled in turn; a cold, cruel smile. "And you would be…?" As though he did not already know. As though he was not even now planning on how best to turn that blind craving for chaos towards the Earth.

She flicked her hair out behind her shoulders, a gesture sharply at odds with the grave scene surrounding her. She seemed too calm, too relaxed, too pleased around the ruin and rubble. "A Jotun believes as a Jotun will; I am your 'Shadow Child', the same one you hoped to find when you came here." She smiled now again; her teeth somehow whiter than her skin, than her pale lips. "And I know why you have come."

"Do you now?" Loki inquired, aloof, casual, as though this could possibly matter less… but in truth, it unnerved him. She had already called him a 'Jotun'. That was not such a worry; it was said that the shadows could see through all lies, even ones that the liar himself believed to be true. He had suspected that she would guess his true nature before he told her.

But she had also mentioned his name, without being told. And that was cause for concern; particularly if she also already claimed to know his plans.

She grinned at him, a fierce, wild grin, filled with insane, mad, hysterical joy… but her eyes were still as dead as the world on which they stood. "But of course, my little Laufeyson. You are one of those few who have just enough courage and idiocy to seek me out; who believe that they can reason with me, can use me to achieve their goals." Her head tilted to the side, almost in curiosity, like an animal observing something that had held its fancy. A fox, perhaps, studying a mouse. "But people like you simply do not understand. I don't destroy things because I want to, because I wish to. I don't do these things in the name of a reason. I do them because I must. Because the universe must scream." There was an intensity on her face now, but still nothing in her eyes. "The stars must bleed, the suns extinguished, all worlds and all life destroyed. I must see everything covered in blood." She had been walking towards him, step by careful step; Loki held his ground, meeting her gaze evenly, refusing to be intimidated. This was not difficult; the girl looked frail, pathetic. Easily dispatched should she get out of line.

No, this could not be the Shadow Child that the Frost Giants had so feared. This was some trick; an imposter, a mad girl who thought herself a legend. Nothing more.

"This is my Reason. My Reason for existing, my Reason for life itself. I live so that everything else will die. So why would I serve you, why would I serve your reason?"

Loki half-smiled. All right. He would play along with her little games, would play pretend that she was something more than she so clearly was. "You wish for destruction to fall in either case. Why not simply direct it towards Midgard?"

She laughed again; a loud, echoing sound that split the air, a melodic note that danced among the clouds and howled towards the silver moon above. As her laughter died off and his eyes stayed on her, she began to circle him slowly, carefully, predatorily. "If I did do such a thing, you would not be as happy as you have led yourself to believe." Her shining white teeth gleamed in the silver moonlight, flashing bright and sharp as she vanished behind him once more, still circling… her hands were suddenly on his shoulders, running downwards as her arms wrapped gently around his neck in an oddly affectionate gesture. One pale hand broke away from him to motion towards the ashen world surrounding them, and she whispered directly into his ear, her voice still filled with laughter. "It is impossible to rule over a dead planet," she said, her breath tickling against his skin. "Believe me. I've tried."

And then the pain struck; it was the first time of many. Searing, burning, horrific fire blazed on the back of his neck, and Loki cried out, dropping to his knees. The agony blinded him as the Shadow Child released him, allowing him to fall. She completed her circle, so that she now stood in front of him once more, and she dropped down in front of him, placing two fingers beneath his chin so that she could force his face up to hers.

"I think you need to learn something of humility," She said with a bright smile. It was such a striking contrast with her words, with the pain that was now bleeding down his spine, rolling down in trembling waves of electricity and molten rock. "You have to understand, Loki, that you came here of your own free will; but so few have the audacity to do such a thing. And that makes you very, very special." She giggled; it was such a girlish, childlike sound that it should have been impossible to seem so nightmarish… and yet, it locked Loki's muscles in place, forged his bones together, so that he could no longer move… Fear was alive within him, a foreign sensation, an emotion so often banished…

"It's been a while since I've had a new little plaything," She noted as the darkness started to close around his eyes. "And you show some promise."

A new pain stabbed through his spine, brighter and hotter than the first, a shadow lashing across his back…

"Oh," Banner's voice startled Loki out of the memory; a shiver floated from head to toe as he was faced with the real world, a world that was safer, a world more at peace than the blackness in his mind… his eyes flicked open as Banner went on, in a tone far too kind and gentle to be addressing him, "Hey, you. What are you doing on this floor, huh?"

Loki's eyes went to Banner, who was looking at something on the ground. Loki followed his gaze and saw Jekyll there, wrapping himself around the doctor's legs, his tail swishing back and forth, thumping against Banner a few times. Banner, obviously having been distracted from his work by the furry animal, knelt down next to him and ran his fingers under Jekyll's chin, then down his back. "Natalie feed you yet?" He asked, as though honestly expecting an answer.

Loki glanced around the room and found the open door that Jekyll must have entered through. He knew that the mutt had been spending a majority of its time at the Tower since the attack- and spending his nights wherever I was- and that he liked to travel from room to room, floor to floor, following whoever caught his interest, even into the elevator. I usually fed him later in the afternoon, sometimes having to find him in the maze of floors and rooms by asking JARVIS for help. We'd all gotten used to the animal's presence in the Tower; but it was the first time that Loki had ever seen the dog face-to-face.

A vague sense of unease prickled at the back of his neck. Jekyll's reaction to Fraye had been immediate; it was said that dogs had good intuition, and since linking with me, Loki found that he could believe it. Jekyll was typically a good judge of character. And if he reacted against Loki, then the Avengers would only become all the more suspicious.

Too late to avoid it; Jekyll noticed him at the other end of the room and abandoned Banner, padding over to him softly. Seeing as Loki was still sitting on the ground, Jekyll's gaze was perfectly even with his own; at least, until his head ducked down and he began sniffing the floor around the Trickster. After a moment, he seemed satisfied that he'd gotten all of the interesting smells from the ground and turned instead to Loki himself… the Norse god of Mischief blinked at him. It was mildly strange, that this animal had never seen him before, considering all of the times that he had seen Jekyll; the link really did screw with our heads sometimes.

Slowly, carefully, Loki reached out a hand. There was nothing for it; Jekyll would be around me for a majority of the time, regardless. The dog would have to become used to him one way or another.

Jekyll sniffed the proffered hand with a strange intensity, as though it was the most interesting thing on the earth. His ears lifted just slightly, curiosity shining in his bright eyes as he walked a little closer, still sniffing at Loki's hand.

And then his big, pink tongue swiped itself across Loki's palm; the Trickster recoiled, but Jekyll didn't seem discouraged in the slightest. Tail wagging happily, he barged right towards Loki, the dog's face less than an inch from his, sniffing him again. Loki, still sitting on the floor, pushed the mutt back a bit, but Jekyll eagerly pushed back, his tongue now lolling out, a dog-like grin on his face.

"Very well!" Loki exclaimed, exasperated, and ran his hands over Jekyll's fur. The mutt sat down, content now that someone was giving him attention, his tail still thwacking against whatever was in close proximity. Loki stroked the fur back on his head, shaking his own head back and forth slowly, though secretly he was relieved. Jekyll seemed to have taken an instant liking to him; the second Loki stopped petting him, he'd nudge the Trickster's hand until he pet him again.

Banner watched the little interaction without comment, but after a moment, his eyes went to the gash on Jekyll's side. Loki's followed a moment later, and the corner of his lip turned down. The Shadow Wound that ran along his side and curled down onto his paw was a particularly nasty one; and was indeed infected.

Loki gently pushed on Jekyll's shoulders until the animal lay down on the floor, then rolled onto his back, paws sticking up in the air. Loki scratched his stomach for a moment, then eased the animal onto his side, so that he could get a better view of the injury. He pressed his cold fingers against it; Jekyll whined quietly, but didn't move in the slightest as Loki closed his eyes, focusing the magical energy that flowed in his blood, forcing it to his fingertips. He reached out, searching for the shadows inside the wound…

Found them.

Grasping the twisting, writhing shadows carefully with his own energy, his own magic, Loki gently teased the darkness away, coaxed it out of the wound… it wrapped around his hand like a curl of smoke, drifting across his fingertips… Jekyll whined sharply as the shadow kept coming out of the scarred surface in a thin strand, a thread that seemed endless… but then the shadow curled up in Loki's palm, the strand cut and cradled against his fingertips. He crushed the darkness beneath his fingers, and it dissipated into nothing, returning into simple, harmless shade, no longer poisonous, and bound to follow the orders that light gave.

He sat back, his mouth suddenly dry, his thoughts suddenly thick and viscous, slow and sluggish. Shadow manipulation of any sort was a very difficult kind of magic; he had been quite proud of himself when he'd first learned to bend the darkness to his will, even in such small quantities. The same could be said about telepathy; a nigh impossible form of magic to master, though he'd always had an aptitude for it, as evidenced by our connection. But Fraye had both of these things mastered so completely; it was a truly terrifying thought, if he allowed himself to think it.

But for the moment, he could not allow himself to do such things. Loki gently smoothed out the fur on Jekyll's side, running his cold fingers over the somewhat-healed wound, and Jekyll lifted his head upright to look at him. He licked Loki's hand carefully, and despite the look of disgust that twisted his face, the Trickster scratched him carefully behind his ears.

"Good dog," he sighed the words out, as though irritated that he was forced to say them. Jekyll placed his head back on the ground, perfectly relaxed. Stupid animal. Why I was so attached to the creature, he would never know. Mortals and their pets… it was utterly ridiculous…

"He likes you," Banner noted carefully, leaning against one of the tables. Loki glanced up and realized that the doctor was still watching him. Loki sat back, sitting perfectly upright, his spine absolutely straight. He did not respond to Banner's comment, but rather continued to stroke Jekyll's side absently. Jekyll shifted positions, standing so that he could lie down closer to Loki, curling up on the floor next to him; Loki couldn't stop the ever-so-small smile that crossed his face. Well, at the very least, the animal trusted him. That was something.

He closed his eyes again, blocking out Banner, blocking out the world, his hand still resting on Jekyll. He turned his thoughts back to the memory he had just relived, back to that which he had been focusing on before this interruption. Fraye had said some things that would definitely interest me, things that Loki had mostly dismissed, abandoned when he had thrown aside all thoughts of her.

First and foremost: 'It is impossible to rule over a dead planet. Believe me. I've tried.'

It alluded to something; what that 'something' was, he was uncertain. He re-scanned his thoughts, sifted through the memory again, picking apart the finer details…

Jekyll's cold, wet nose pressed against his wrist, pulling him out sharply. The dog's tail wagged as Loki gave him a mild glare, removing his hand from Jekyll's side. He twisted in his spot, turning around so that he was no longer facing the animal. He closed his eyes again, thinking back to the things that Fraye had said…

Fraye was a force of nature. Why should she try to rule over a planet that she had destroyed? Why would a hurricane linger over the chaos it had wreaked, why would a storm hover above the shattered remains of the city it had reduced to rubble?

Jekyll's paw was suddenly on his knee, claws digging in deep without meaning to. Loki jumped, his eyes snapping open again, then narrowing on the dumb animal. Now it was becoming a nuisance. Jekyll's tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth, lips stretched in a happy canine grin as his tail went back and forth. Banner was watching the two of them with some amusement, fighting a smile. Loki ignored him, focusing instead on the big, furry problem at hand.

Looking Jekyll in the eye, Loki snapped his long fingers, simultaneously pointing in another direction, throwing his arm out to that same direction; the other side of the room. It was my gesture for 'go'; and Jekyll recognized it. His ears flattened, and he whined; Loki snapped and pointed again, and Jekyll walked off, clearly reluctant.

Loki watched the animal leave, then closed his eyes again. Honestly. These creatures were more of a nuisance than they were of any use… though Jekyll had saved my life, and he supposed he should be grateful…

A warm, heavy weight plopped down behind him, pressing up against his back; Loki started, then turned to find Jekyll lying directly behind him, his big eyes staring up at the Trickster, nose high in the air as his head tilted back so that he could see Loki's face. The tip of his tail thumped the ground once. Banner was hiding laughter by now, disguising himself behind one of the screens; Loki ignored him pointedly, giving Jekyll a hard stare… Jekyll's tongue shot out, trying to lick Loki's face, but he pulled back just in time to avoid the onslaught of dog slobber.

He turned around again, sighing through his nose and closing his eyes again; he heard Jekyll yawn massively, a high-pitched whine slipping out of him as he did so, and the dog settled down even further behind him, curling up in a tight ball, remaining directly behind Loki.

Giving up on trying to shoo the mutt away, Loki closed his eyes a final time, delving back into the memories once more.

As for me… Well, I had long ago made it to the store, and was searching for trench coats by the time something interesting happened. I figured trench coats were about the closest thing Loki was going to get to Asgardian wear; though it was a daunting task to try and guess at what other clothes he might like. I might have been well acquainted with his tastes, but there was very little in this store-or any of the others that I could think of off the top of my head- that would fit with those tastes.

I sighed to myself as I draped an awesome-looking black coat into the cart. There was plenty here that I thought he'd look good in, but I was trying to stick with his usual green-and-black theme, and to abide by his preferences. Not the easiest of tasks; Loki was very picky.

"Natalie?"

I jumped, whirling around, my ponytail swishing about on my neck as I turned to the voice. Immediately, my hands clenched in fists, my eyes crackling as they scanned the area for exits, for defensible positions, for any innocent bystanders who might get hurt. But this was not Fraye's voice; nor Loki's, nor any other known enemy, and as I zeroed in on a familiar face, I realized why. The reason the voice fit no enemy was because it was no enemy; it was a friendly, and not an Avenger. A rarity in my life, but it happened on occasion.

"Benny!" I exclaimed, at the same time pleasantly surprised and completely mortified. I was glad to see him, considering I hadn't laid eyes on him since I'd been forced to drop out of my one on-campus class this semester; but I was drop-dead embarrassed that he saw me dressed the way I was, and buying men's clothes. I tugged my fingerless glove upwards, trying to keep the Key covered.

Maybe I should explain. You know that guy you see everyday in class? The one with the infectious little laugh, who you've been friends with for a while now, and who can always make you laugh when you've had a really crappy day? The one that you have had a secret crush on since you laid eyes on him, but you know that there's no way it's going to work out between you, because one of you is moving soon, or your future college plans don't correlate, or you have a crazy Asgardian in your brain and you've pretty much given up on the idea of love because of him? Well, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't know about the last one, but you get the idea.

Well, Benjamin- or as I called him, 'Benny'- was definitely that guy. He smiled at me, his perfectly white smile that always made my heart skip a beat. He was wearing a dark blue shirt with black pants, a very loose black tie, and a black fedora; and, I have to say, he looked great in it. The blue offset his similarly-colored eyes perfectly; those eyes that could put the Norse god of Thunder's to shame. Why everyone in my life had to look so damn beautiful, I'd never know…

He was tall, lanky, and had thick brown hair that stuck out from underneath the fedora just perfectly… I thought of how I looked, with my hair pulled back in a no-nonsense, business-style ponytail, thought of the baggy camo pants, the lack of jewelry and makeup… and then I forced myself to stop thinking of that. It was stupid. And it just made my face go hot.

He gave me a greeting hug, and I hugged him back. We'd been friends for ages, though we'd only recently gotten semi-close. Not that I was really 'close' to any normal person these days; it was too easy for them to get hurt, to get killed. I'd learned that lesson the hard way, but no one could say that I hadn't learnedit nonetheless.

"That's… a lot of clothes," he noted with a grin, gesturing to my cart. Oh, dear gravy.

"Ah… it's for a friend of mine," I thought quickly. "He just flew in from another country, and they lost his luggage, so he's kinda desperate for new threads."

That's right, I just thought of that at the top of my head. I was learning to lie a lot better these days: living la Vida Loki certainly has its perks.

"Ah, bummer," he said, still smiling. My heart was starting to melt into a puddle of goo; damn crushes. They seem fun and happy and innocent, but they can kill. "So what's going on with you and school, huh? You haven't been coming to class anymore." His head tilted just the slightest bit to the side, a vague sense of curiosity lingering in those sea-blue eyes. I shrugged.

"Eh. You know how it is. My job got in the way this semester. I missed too many days, had to drop out." My few school friends were well aware about how taxing and crazy my 'job' could be; many times, I'd been forced to reschedule meetings and study groups and everything else, and oftentimes at the last minute.

"Ah, yes. Your elusive 'job'." His eyes twinkled. Everyone I knew was told that I worked for the government; they weren't told exactly what I did, but the words 'working for the government' did permit me to put a big 'classified' stamp on any awkward questions they might ask. On the downside, it had prompted Benny to make a guess as to what, exactly, my job might be. Every time we met, he had a new idea; each one usually crazier than the last. Of course, none of them could be so crazy as the truth. "I'll figure out what it is some day."

"If you do, your perception of the universe will never be the same," I warned him in my best mock-ominous tone.

He smirked. "I'm sure." He looked around. "So, this friend of yours, he here with you?"

Did he ever leave? I rolled my eyes, but shook my head. "Nah. He's in another store; just wanted me to pick up a few coats for him."

"He's got some pretty pricy tastes," Benjamin noted, glancing at the tags.

"Hey, it ain't my money," I blew it off. He grinned; crisis averted. It was probably a lie; I didn't exactly want to ask Fury to reimburse me for Loki's suits, S.H.I.E.L.D. business or not. But I had more pressing concerns than money right now, anyway; and my paycheck could cover it.

Benny looked down to his feet, shuffling a little. "Hey, listen, Natalie… now that you're here…" He bit his lip. I'll admit, I got a teensy weensy little tiny itty bitty bit lost in the gesture. I blinked, shaking myself out of crush-mode. I was his friend first. I was his friend beyond anything else. I couldn't afford for us to be anything else; I mean, what was I going to do? Go on a date with a guy with Loki in my brain?

"There's something I've been meaning to ask you," he admitted, running his hand over the back of his neck. "And, you know, seeing as you skipped out this semester, I never really had the chance."

I lifted an eyebrow. "Shoot," I said easily, shifting my weight to my right foot, tugging my glove upwards.

He looked at me; a stupid little smile came on his face as he laughed nervously. "Erm… this is kinda awkward, but…" He rubbed the back of his neck again, his sea-blue eyes darting to the ground. "Would you ever want to… you know, maybe… go out for coffee sometime?"

I blinked. He shuffled again and added, "You know. Without the others? Just you and me?"

The 'others' would be the group of friends that I usually hung out with whenever I was at college; friends in the normal world, friends away from the Avengers. Friends that I could study with, friends that I could moan about homework with, friends that, in Benny's case, I could form secret crushes on. Friends that I could have girl talk with, or just chat with online. Normal friends.

Friends who were not superheroes.

Friends who I could never be close to.

Friends who broke way too easily.

My heart started fluttering. Yes, it screamed, louder and louder, slamming against my rib cage, trying to get to Benny. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!

My brain, however, overrode my heart's screaming, sending out pulsing answers of its own; no. Hell no. It won't work. Loki won't allow it. Your life won't allow it. Don't do this. Don't let yourself get hurt like that again.

The two responses made it to my mouth and clashed, melting together and spreading a bitter taste across my tongue, making it very, very dry. I swallowed. I knew what I had to say. I hated it, but I knew.

"I can't," I answered at last. Ben's face, which had been so filled with hope just moments before, fell. The shining light in those blue eyes died off. "Sorry, Benny."

"Oh." He said, disappointment very clear. "All right. That's cool. It's just… you know…" He looked down; his face was turning beet red. I wanted to apologize again, to say that I was horribly sorry, that I didn't want to hurt him, to explain everything. But I kept my mouth shut. Another thing I'd gotten good at.

Finally, he seemed to gather his thoughts together enough to ask, "Why?"

I lifted my eyebrows. He went on, "I mean… I really thought… and Jade said…"

"Jade?" I snapped onto the word. Jade had ratted me out? "That little rat fink!" I couldn't stop the words from slipping out. Jade was another of 'the group'; and not the best person to tell your darkest secrets to. Fortunately, this was not my darkest secret. Not even close.

Benny smiled a little, put more at ease by my reaction, which so clearly indicated that 1. She had been correct, and 2. This wasn't going to make things awkward between us. I was still acting like my normal self. "So, if she was telling the truth, then… you know. Why not?" He shrugged; back to his normal self, too. He was always very easy-going, laid back.

I looked down, studying my shoes, my brain scrambling at a thousand miles per hour to think of a good idea. "It's just… I have…"

'I have'? I have what? I have a job that gets in the way? I have to take care of my parents-particularly my sick father? I have 'issues'? I have a psycho Frost Giant in my head that likes to play around with my private thoughts?

My brain spun. I knew what the problems were, I knew why we couldn't go out, I knew why it was a bad idea… but how the hell was I supposed to explain Loki, the very symbol of all things strange and psychotic, to Benjamin, the very symbol of all things normal and sane?

When the answer hit me, I didn't think; I just blurted it out like an idiot. "I have a boyfriend!"

…Dear Mouth,

Why do you never listen to me?

Sincerely, Brain.

Benny blinked. Twice. "Oh!" He exclaimed. A bright smile lit up his face again, and he laughed awkwardly. "Well, I look like an idiot."

My face was turning beet red, I was absolutely certain of it. It was hot enough to fry an egg on the back of my neck, and a cold sweat was breaking out down my spine. I was beyond grateful that Loki was not currently paying attention to my situation; and absolutely terrified of what he would say when I got back to the Tower.

I was doomed.

"We haven't been going out long," I spun my lie quickly, weaving thread upon thread of my newfound deceit. I was gonna have to hang myself with it eventually, anyway; might as well make the rope thick enough to be useful. "It's just, we've been friends since we were kids, you know, and he finally came back to the U.S., and…" I bit my lip. I was absolutely on fire; from head to toe, I was burning up. I must have looked like a freaking lobster. Loki was going to kill me. He would never let me live this down.

Somewhere amid my crippling humiliation, though, I found myself surprised at how well the story actually went along with the truth of our situation; I had sort-of-known Loki since I was a child. He did just come to the U.S. He also just came to the planet, but that was another matter entirely. This was just a much tamer, much more 'real' version of our story. With one massively huge exception; the term 'boyfriend' wasn't even in the picture. There wasn't a term for 'mortal-enemies-who-actually-can't-kill-each-other -due-to-the-link-in-their-brains.'

"Ah," Benny nodded a few times, indicating his understanding. The smile was back on his face; this really wasn't going to become awkward. "I get it. What's his name?"

Shit. Just…shit. I scrambled for a name; anything that I could use to separate the situation, to make sure that it wasn't identified with Loki. I ran the Avengers' names through my mind, wondering if any of them would be willing to cover for me if I got caught in this; if I gave one of their names, it would explain a lot about why I was hanging out with them so often. And the whole 'boyfriend' excuse would explain away a lot more than my job did, too…

I couldn't think. I couldn't think of anyone who'd be willing to cover for me, anyone who could react well under the pressure of suddenly learning about my lie… well, maybe Tony, but that was out; his relationship with Pepper was pretty much public… After a moment, I threw out the idea of using one of the Avengers and simply tried to find a random name: I could bluff my way through it later, make them up completely instead of using a real person.

"Loki," I answered.

…Dear Brain,

I do what I want.

Sincerely, Mouth.

"Ah, cool," Benjamin was still smiling. He had no idea about the mental tortures I was going through right now. I could just see Loki's face… if he didn't just kill me the second I walked through the door, then he was definitely going to use this as some serious blackmail later. My stomach twisted violently; I was suddenly very certain that I was going to retch. But I kept my manner perfectly calm and composed.

"Yeah," I said, shuffling a little, anxious. "Still friends though, right?" I double-checked.

He laughed, slinging his arm around my shoulder. "As if we could ever be anything but," He said cheerfully. "Hope it works out for you two."

"Yeah, me too." The lie tasted like acid in the back of my throat; burning and bright and painful.

"But you should still swing by campus sometime," Benny went on, releasing me from the half-hug, clearly bringing the conversation to a close. "We all miss you. We should get the group together again, go hang out at the café, or a restaurant or something."

I nodded. "Sounds great," I agreed, meaning it. "But I've been kinda… involved with work lately. This is the first time I've gotten out of there in like, ages." I rolled my eyes to convey my exasperation.

"Hmm…" He stroked his chin, pretending to think. "This thing really keeps you busy…" He snapped his fingers. "I know! You're an alien catcher, right? You track down ETs for the government!"

I rolled my eyes, but I was grinning. "Keep dreaming, Benny." I answered, turning back to my cart. "I'll see you later!"

He waved goodbye to me while I tried desperately tried to push the entire conversation out of my head. I was still shaking. I was dead. I was dead, I was dead, I was so freaking dead.

I hurried through the rest of the store, finishing my job in a rush, trying to keep my focus away from my conversation with Benjamin, though I knew it was pointless.

But Loki didn't really notice anything off for a long time; not until Steve entered the room where he, Jekyll, and Dr. Banner were all gathered with their respective tasks (or lack thereof).

The Captain's footsteps pulled him out of his introspection, and he glanced upward at him.

"Natalie back yet?" Steve's question was directed towards Bruce, but it was Loki who answered.

"Not yet," his reply was soft, nigh silent, forcing the Soldier to strain to hear. Steve glanced to him, then turned back to Banner pointedly.

"All right. When she gets back, I want everyone to suit up and meet in the training center." As Bruce nodded, Steve turned to Loki. Despite his earlier politeness, there was a razor's edge in the Soldier's words as he addressed the Trickster. "That includes you."

Loki, smiling softly, gave him a little nod; Rogers turned and stalked out of the room. Loki turned his attention to me, focusing on the whispers that lingered in the back of his mind… it did not take him long to realize how embarrassed I was, and it took even less time for him to find the cause. A slow, creeping smile threatened to take over his face.

Not a word, I growled the words out the instant I noticed he was there. Not a damn word.

The smile stretched, but he said nothing. For now. He was certainly going to have some fun with that later, though. Rogers wishes for us to meet in the training center upon your arrival.

Actually, his specific words were 'suit up' and meet there, I pointed out. More important than you'd think.

He followed my line of thinking and nodded slowly. Agreed. Though I fail to see how it pertains to you.

Um… owch. I said bitterly. I was very acutely aware that I had no suit, thank you very much; just like I was very acutely aware that I wasn't an Avenger. Low blow there, man.

Merely an observation.

Loki blinked, only now noticing Banner's eyes on him once again. "Natalie will arrive in five minutes," he informed the Doctor coolly, then stood fluidly. Jekyll, disturbed by the motion, immediately got to his feet and padded after Loki, who stood and waited by the door for my arrival.

It took six minutes, not five, but it was close enough; I lugged in all of the shopping bags and met up with Loki on his floor.

On seeing me, Jekyll went absolutely berserk; which is kinda typical, for him. Overloaded as I was with shopping bags stuffed with clothing, it was kinda hard to deal with; Jekyll jumped up, placing his front paws on me, trying to lick my face, tail whipping back and forth.

"Ok, ok!" I laughed, overwhelmed, and allowed the bags to drop so that I could pet him a few times. "Sheesh, I missed you too, fuzz ball."

I gently forced him to put all four paws back on the ground, and he circled around me a few times, tripping me up as I tried to walk into the room. I looked to Banner. "I'm taking this stuff upstairs," I told him, gesturing to the plastic bags. "We'll meet you in the training center with the others, kay?"

He nodded. "Sure." While Bruce didn't technically 'train', he did watch us when we did. It helped the Hulk keep in touch with our fighting moves, without risking everyone's lives in the process. I wondered what Big Green would think about Loki being on our side this time around and had to hide a smile.

Jekyll ran a few more circles around me as I walked back to Loki, giving him a greeting nod. I swept up the bags as Jekyll sniffed me up and down a few times, then sniffed Loki, then sniffed me and Loki…

He got very stiff suddenly, skittering back a few steps from Loki. His ears went flat. He didn't growl, not exactly, but it was very clear from his every movement that something had him on edge, antsy, irritable. Loki noticed as well and frowned just slightly, following me out of the room. Jekyll followed, too, all but shoving Loki aside as he skipped up next to me, even more under my feet than usual.

"Chill out, would you?" I scolded him. He didn't seem to care, which was really irritating considering all of the stuff I was carrying and Loki's silent-but-blatant refusal to help.

The two of us-three, counting Jekyll- got to the elevator and went to our floor; the dog went absolutely crazy when we went into Loki's room; AKA my old room. With all of the kookiness that had happened the day before, Jekyll hadn't had a chance to realize that my room had been moved, that this was now Loki's.

He whined again as I dropped all of the bags onto Loki's bed, for him to sort through later. I turned to him. "What is your problem, fluff face?" He came up to me, tail still wagging, and pressed up against me, keeping his eyes locked on Loki. The Trickster studied him for a moment, mildly perplexed by the animal's behavior. I was more than mildly perplexed; Jekyll had been getting along so well with Loki just moments ago… what had changed?

"Crazy mutt," I grumbled, then turned to Loki, shoving aside these errant thoughts, focusing solely on the task at hand. "All right. Let's see what we can do with this."

Loki lifted a single eyebrow. He did not like how bossy I'd been getting lately. Well, he thought it was bossy. Personally, I was just aiming for 'no-nonsense', 'professional', and 'let's-get-this-out-of-the-way-before-any-other-cr ap-comes-up'.

But really, come on. I was always bossy.

"Please?" I tried, a little nicer. The other eyebrow arced upwards, but slowly, the air around him started to shimmer.

I always have been, and always will be impressed by the manner in which his battle armor appeared on him; the way his entire appearance seemed to change in a matter of moments, a subtle shine transforming everything about him, turning him into a warrior. It did not matter what he appeared as before- Midgardian, Asgardian, a man with power or a banished prince- whatever he was changed, it vanished in an instant, replaced by… this.

Golden armor gleamed on his shoulders, his chest, his arms. That twisted helmet of the same color faded into existence, covering his perfectly styled black hair, framing his narrow cheekbones and bringing out something dangerous in his eyes. A deep, emerald-green cape flowed down from his shoulders, flickering briefly in a nonexistent wind.

But I wasn't here to be impressed by a few flashy effects, a fancy little party trick. I was here because I was desperate to make this look better. This may have been what Loki would be fighting Fraye in, but it would still be nigh impossible to train with the other Avengers while he looked… like this. Like the man who had tried to take over their world.

I looked him up and down, trying to think of a way to tone it down. He'd agreed to this without agreeing to it, had listened to and seen the validity in my thoughts. But now, it seemed, he was having doubts again.

"Helmet," I said immediately; he reached up and removed the twisted metal that crowned his head, tucking it under his arm. I frowned as Jekyll brushed up against my legs, whining again.

I was glancing at the golden armor on his shoulders, trying to think of how else to tone it down, when Loki gave me a cool, steady look.

"One way or another, Frost, the Avengers will not approve of me." He pointed out. "No matter how I look in reality, they shall see me as they shall see me. So why should I change? Why should I try to alter myself, knowing that it will not alter their perception of me?"

"You know why." He wouldn't have agreed to this if he didn't. We had to try. We had to make him look like less of a threat, at least to the Avengers, at least for now…

"But I also know that you should not worry about impossible things," he added, his voice soft, nigh silent, replacing the helmet back on his head. "The Avengers will see me as the Avengers see me. We can not change that."

I frowned. I knew he was right; and the fact that he'd even brought it up told me that he'd decided it best to not even bother; which meant that, no matter what I said, he wasn't going to change his appearance.

Sighing, I reached forwards, lifting my hand up to flick the golden helmet with a single fingernail. It clinked anticlimactically, the sound tiny and tinny and hollow. "Well, at least you'll be used to wearing it when the real fight comes," I muttered under my breath, trying to make myself feel better. "And you won't get more comfortable in Midgardian clothes than you are in your armor."

Loki gave me an honestly-Frost-as-if-that-could-ever-happen look, but he said absolutely nothing; he knew that I was just trying to console myself, more than anything else. I clapped my hands together. "Right, then!" I exclaimed. "If we can't fix that, then I think we at least need to lay down a few ground rules. Well, really, just one."

He moved his hands behind his back, long fingers encircling his wrist, fastening it there. He lifted an eyebrow, silently prodding me to continue; for some reason, I was suddenly very aware of how much taller he was than me, of how high he towered above me. I pushed that aside.

"Be nice," I said firmly. "I know that's hard, and I know that you're a pretentious ass by nature, but please oh please, for the love of all that is sane in the nine freaking realms, please just try and tone it down a bit?" I jabbed a finger into his chest; a finger I'm certain he contemplated breaking. "You are working with the Avengers, here. Any attempt at training is just an attempt to make you better at what you do, not a personal attack. And you have to do the same for them; constructive criticism should be constructive. Helpful. Not belittling, not arrogant, not irritating, not anything but helpful. Ok?"

He blinked; a faint little smile had appeared on his face, that eternal smirk of his, so smug and arrogant and just… ugh. Annoying as all hell. Even I wanted to wipe it off. But he complied. In a tone that made it very clear that he was merely going along with what I was saying because he wanted to, and for no other reason, he answered, "Very well."

"I'm serious, Loki."

"I give you my word," his eyes twinkled. I wasn't buying it. No, he wasn't lying, but he wasn't really telling the truth, either. Loki was going to be Loki; and if that meant that it would annoy the Avengers, too, then so be it.

This was going to be the longest training session ever.

But he knew the stakes. I trusted that he would pull back at least enough to keep himself on this side of the prison bars; at least enough to keep the Avengers from downright attacking him. He'd only be mildly prevocational; which was about as good as you could get from the Trickster.

"All right," I said, glancing down at myself. I'd dressed for training already, so there was really nothing I needed to do in terms of 'suiting up', as Loki had pointed out earlier. Remembering this, I winced as I turned away from him, heading to the door. But my voice betrayed nothing as I asked, "You coming?"

Boyfriend?

The word was spoken in my mind, thankfully, and not aloud; but I could still hear his amusement sparkling along it. I didn't even have to think, didn't blink, did absolutely nothing; I just whirled on him, finger pointed at his chest. My eyes crackled as I saw the smug, barely suppressed smile on his face. "You're the one who thinks I should lie better! That was a perfectly decent lie! One of my best, actually!"

That roguish smile grew a little. "Was it now?" He asked, turning the sharp points of my words back on me, suggesting far more than I'd intended on doing. I forced my head up high.

"Yes!" I insisted, nodding once to give my words a more decent punch. "I was caught off guard. Thrown completely off. I had to tell him something, and that was as good as anything!" I started ticking things off on my fingers, listing my reasons, reasons that I'd recited over and over again in my head for just this occasion. I was not unprepared, but my face was still burning hot as Loki's eyes kept twinkling, his white teeth flashing beneath a wicked grin.

"It'll keep him from asking me out again," I said quickly, going down the list of facts, numbering each pointedly on my fingers as I went. "At least for as long as I keep up the lie. It'll give me a better excuse for all of my friends, not just him; I won't have to keep telling them that it's just my 'job' keeping me away." These things were true. They were cold, hard facts; they made sense. They all made perfect, resolute sense. But still embarrassment curdled in my gut, set a weight upon my chest, and pushed my gaze away from his with light, persuasive fingers. I couldn't look at him. I felt like such an idiot.

"And if I had mentioned any of the others by name, and gotten caught in it later, they wouldn't have been able to cover for me. It's doubtful that I'll get caught in it with you, but if I am, then you can cover. And you're a great liar yourself; you can sell it."

"Can I?" He asked, still smiling, still hiding laughter, still so amused by me and my childish human antics.

"I'd hope that you would," I said, forcing myself to look him in the eye now, to be almost accusatory, bristling dangerously. But at the sight of his smile, all of my bravado was sucked clean out of me, draining down through my toes, swirling in a black and broken whirlpool at my feet. But I forced myself to keep talking nonetheless; and to say something that I was sure he'd react positively to. "I don't trust anyone else to do it; you're the only one who's capable of it."

He knew I was stroking his ego, knew that it was an intentional thing, but he responded well to it nonetheless. He chuckled very quickly, the laughter spilling through his lips at last. "Ah. I see."

"Just… just roll with it, ok?" I asked, trying not to sound too much like I was begging as I pinched the bridge of my nose, pressing so hard on my eyes that bright flashes of color popped up in little gunshots behind them. "It'll make things easier for everyone."

His eyebrow quirked again. "And what do you plan on telling the Avengers?" He inquired, his words still twirling an intricate ballet with his desire to laugh.

"Diddly freaking squat, that's what. Just because it's a good lie doesn't mean it's not embarrassing as hell."

"On that, I believe we can agree," he noted, taking me in with appraising eyes, looking me up and down. I looked back at him, noticing him surveying me, distaste tainting the bright thoughts that he'd had just seconds ago. He couldn't even look at me-at any mortal- that way.

Well, the feeling was pretty freaking mutual. I shuddered as a mental image popped into my brain; Loki and I, boyfriend and girlfriend, like the world would see us if I kept up with this latest deception… Arms linked together, little paper hearts littering the ground around us as we gave each other googly-eyes… I almost puked. Gross. Just… gross. Ew, ew, ew.

I fought with bile and pushed the thoughts aside, forcing myself to remain calm and logical about the whole thing. "So are we cool?" He looked to me. "We're keeping with this?" I elaborated.

He nodded once, and the smile was back again. "If necessary." I sighed in relief.

"I doubt it will be," I said quickly; too quickly. I made myself slow down, tapping a silent beat on my side and keeping my words together with its rhythm. "Just good to have a backup plan, right? I mean, I was caught without it today, and look where that got me."

"Indeed," he agreed quietly; but he did not walk up next to me, did not start towards the door, did not begin his journey to the training center so many floors below us. He hesitated for a long moment, uneasy, uncertain. Recognizing that this meant that he had something more to say, I waited him out patiently.

"As… different as this predicament is," he started after a moment, measuring each word out with the utmost care, being certain not to say too much or too little, to weave his web of letters and words and fairy tales… "You have fabricated a decent cover for yourself; which would not have been necessary if not for me." His words were stiffer, more formal than usual. I listened closely, trying to see what he was getting at.

"I know how you felt about this… man,"-he barely avoided saying 'boy'- "And I know that you would have agreed, were it not for our… particular circumstances." He wasn't looking at me any longer; he was instead turning towards the window, staring longingly at the world outside. As much as he was now free from his cell, he had still only traded one prison for another; he was not allowed outside, was not allowed in the sunlight, in the fresh air, in the world without chains and shackles and scars… I was his only link to freedom, his only taste of a world outside of the trembling dangers that lurked in the shadows… I blinked, clearing these thoughts away, erasing them from my mind. Focusing on what his words were saying as opposed to his actions.

"I don't believe I truly realized… what it meant to you when you swore to keep our link, all that time ago." His gaze went back to me, then flickered away, his eyes shying away from mine briefly. "You have given up on… love. For me." He chuckled softly, wry and rueful and a little bit sarcastic, like he couldn't quite believe what words were coming out of his mouth. "You recognized this, all that time ago, did you not?"

I swallowed, my gut feeling twisted and sticky, filled with tar and sour honey, gooing up my insides. I looked away from him. "Yeah. But, you know, no biggie."

He snorted, scoffing in the back of his throat and rolling his eyes. "It was your lifelong dream, Frost," he said, his words now edged with a fine razor blade. "To find someone you cared for, to love and be loved, to have children and grow old and die like every other mortal; but not to die alone."

"I have other dreams."

"Quite." He nodded once, acknowledging this. We both knew that I wasn't some sap who clung tightly to something that I could never have. "But you were right. I didn't recognize it until recently, but it is… impossible, for one of us to love someone while connected to each other."

I lifted an eyebrow. I'd always known that; I'd been aware of it from the very beginning, had known it from the second that I told Loki that I was never going to separate our connection, that I was going to keep us linked for the rest of our lives. But I was suddenly very curious as to how he had figured it out for himself… "How so?"

He gave me a look- part exasperated, part Really-Frost, part irritated and all Loki- before turning back to the window. "It is… uncomfortable, to know that you are beside someone whom you… have feelings for." He said, very delicately, tiptoeing around every word… it was hard to say any of this without sounding unbearably cheesy; a fact which we were both highly aware of.

I gave him a sweeping grin. "Why? You jealous?" I teased. It earned me another look, sourer than the first.

"It is not a matter of jealousy," he said curtly, brusquely. I waited for him to explain, but for a long time he did not. I was almost ready to tell him to drop the whole matter and just start walking to the elevator when he spoke up again. "I am a part of you, and you are a part of me. When you are hurt, so am I. When you are angry, so am I." His face was turning red; though he would have denied it profusely if I had pointed it out. He looked at his feet. "When you have feelings for someone else…" He trailed off, leaving me to reach my own conclusions.

I blinked. Once. Twice. Surprised laughter bubbled up my throat and slipped out of my lips in a weird, hebephrenic sound. "Oh, shit," I said, then giggled again. "Ok, that…" I looked down, turning beet red myself, burying my face in my hands. "That makes a lot of sense."

"Quite." He said through his teeth.

"Sorry," I blurted out, suddenly realizing that this conversation-like so many of our others- was being hidden from JARVIS' and Heimdal's sight. I was very grateful for it. "Honest, I've been trying to keep the whole 'crush' thing down to a minimum… no point in falling in love with someone you can't have, right?" I was babbling by this point; what could I say? I felt bad. Our link had its share of awkwardness from time to time, putting us in some really bad situations; and this was definitely one of them. "I really have. I mean, I never would… I… don't want… I've tried to…" The babbling stream that poured from my lips suddenly ran dry. What more could I say? It wasn't like I could help it if I had a crush on someone…

"I am aware of your attempts to keep things… platonic," Loki said after a moment; he was studying me again. "And because of that, thankfully, it has not yet reached the point where my emotions and yours have become indeterminable from each other." He met my gaze, his eyes suddenly melting into liquid emerald, washing away his former hostility, drowning out the cold laughter, leaving him with nothing but the molten green emptiness. "But I wished for you to know that…" he trailed off, then turned suddenly and started stalking towards the door; he made it there in a few brisk strides, throwing me completely off guard. As his hand closed around the handle, he glanced over his shoulder and finished, "I understand now." He looked back to the grains of wood that marched up the door like thin, miniscule ants, falling into line in the manner of soldiers. Marching off to war.

"I know that it is impossible. I know what you gave up."

He hesitated by the door, as though wishing to say something else… but then he pushed through it and started off down the hallway, his cape flickering out behind him in forested hues.

It was the closest to a 'Thank You' that he'd given me, or would ever give me, in a very long time.

---

"You two sure took your sweet time," Tony griped as Loki and I entered the training center. The Trickster swept in, his cape stirring up the air behind him, his helm coming within inches of the doorframe; thankfully, the ceiling was much higher than the door itself, so this wasn't a problem for long. I tagged along behind him, lingering in his shadow until I was inside, then taking my place beside him, walking in the light.

"I actually bothered to show up on time, and what do you do?" Tony directed the question towards me, seeming content to pretend that Loki did not exist. "You come in late. There is such a thing as class, Bubbletastica."

I lifted my eyebrows. "Well, it's not something I'd learn from you, Tin Man. But you're right; maybe I should talk to Steve about it."

He rolled his eyes as the Avengers gathered together in a loose formation, Loki and I hovering just outside of their little circle, a step away. I glanced around the training room; it had been a while since I'd been in here, despite everything. It was wide-open, the walls solid concrete, objects placed willy-nilly to give the illusion of terrain. Loki was scanning everything as well, his eyes roaming the walls, the ground, making note of every falsely created nook and cranny. Filing the information away for later use.

Everyone-save Loki- turned to Steve. The Captain was usually the one who organized us during these training sessions, anyway. The unspoken leader of the group, he had a way of making us fall in line, of making us jump into action, obey any order thrown our way without question or pause. And the strange part about it was, around Steve, you wanted to follow orders. He was such a good guy that you just naturally followed what he said; a leader born. A soldier, through and through.

He wasted absolutely no time; immediately dividing us into sparring teams. "Hand-on-Hand only," he said, turning from Thor, to me to Tony to Loki in turn as he added, "No Lightning, no Bubble, no Armor, no Magic. A clean fight, without powers."

Loki kept himself from frowning, but only barely. Now that he'd given Loki his boundaries, Steve was no longer really paying attention to him; dealing with things by not dealing with them at all. We all knew Loki was here, we all knew he was fighting on our side, and we all had to go on with our lives, anyway. There was no sense in wasting precious time on futile hostilities.

Tony didn't seem happy about the no-armor rule, either, and I was a little miffed by the exclusion of my precious bubble. But this was only the beginning; we would be fighting with our so-called 'powers' soon enough. Which meant that Loki would get his hands on a weapon again… I hid a smile. I shouldn't have been so happy about that, but I was anyway. At this point, any weapon you could use against Fraye was a good one; even if that weapon was in the hands of the Norse god of Mischief.

"I'm splitting you into three teams. No alliances allowed between two teams, understood?" A few of us nodded. Steve started to split us into our groups: "Natasha, you and Stark." An odd pairing. Natasha and Clint usually worked together; but maybe that was the point. To have them working outside of their usual comfort zones. "Thor and Barton, Natalie and Loki. Banner and I will sit this one out; I want to get a look at your fighting tactics from a different standpoint." Everyone nodded, accepting their assigned teams… but I frowned deeply. No. No, I didn't like this at all.

"Right. Five minute ceasefire to get yourselves in position."

"Last one standing gets a cookie!" I interjected, getting myself some eye rolls, but it lightened the mood a little. Loki- as always- noted my behavior with a mixed degree of apathy, bemusement, and curiosity; not many people could keep up the same attitude that I did when dealing with such heavy topics. Thor, Natasha, Clint and Tony parted ways, running off into their separate corners of the room… Loki, however, stayed where he was as I chased down after Steve, who was heading for the sectioned-off, raised platform that Bruce stood on.

"Rogers!" I called; the Captain halted and turned to me, waiting for me to come within a few feet of him.

"Yes?"

I glanced back behind me; Loki was still waiting for me. The others had scattered throughout the area, hiding; for now. I lowered my voice to a quiet hiss; I'd wanted to make my objection before the others left, but Steve could always call them back if worst came to worst.

"Look," I said, pulling no punches, getting straight to the point. "I'm not going to debate anything with you, Steve. And I'm not going to fight with you on this issue or anything… but I don't think it's a good idea for you to put Loki and I on a team against everyone else." I looked him dead in the eye as I said this, standing as tall as I was physically able. Not being hostile, but not backing down, either. "We're trying to avoid making him the 'bad guy', remember? And… well… I mean, we all know that of everyone here, I'm the most open to this." My throat clogged a little as I said the words out loud- was this giving too much away? Too little?- but I managed to get them out into the air nonetheless. "I mean, because I know that he's on our side right now." I tugged my glove upwards reflexively, hiding the Key beneath it.

"It's not going to be that much of a big step for everyone to start alienating and villainizing me as well, given the right circumstances." I concluded. "And this… well, it's less than ideal; you're putting us together against everyone else…"

Steve cut me off, smiling lightly. "It's all right, Natalie. I've thought of that already."

He had? I blinked. Well, I guessed it would make sense that he had- a leader has to know his soldiers, right?- but if that was the case, then why…?

He explained before I could ask. "It's just a temporary thing. But…" he concentrated, trying to think of how to phrase his words just right. "I wanted to see how you two would fight together given the… nature of your connection. The link between you could provide an… interesting advantage."

I blinked. "Oh." I said, surprised. "That… that makes sense."

Steve seemed amused by my mild shock, smiling lightly. "Go on, Natalie. You have to get into position."

I nodded once, still a little stunned. I hadn't really thought that the Avengers saw my link with Loki as anything but a hindrance, a nuisance. But of course, I should have seen that Steve would know the practical military advantages; I hid a sigh as I re-joined Loki. I hadn't been spending enough time with Soldier Boy lately; recently, my life had been pretty Loki-oriented. Not that I could really help that.

Loki was studying the area again; he had a pretty good idea of the land by now. He turned to me as I came up next to him, and I asked, Ready?

He half-smirked softly. But of course.

I closed my eyes, zeroing in on the whispering, floating voices in the back of my head, the soft buzzing that never left me; Loki did the same, the two of us searching through thread upon thread of thought, trying to find something to agree on that would bind us together, tie our minds to each other, tether us.

It was more of a feeling than an actual thought; the feeling that this, more than anything else, was a test, given to us by the Avengers; and we could not fail. Our reasons may have been different, but at their core they were essentially the same; we both had to prove our worth to the Avengers. Loki, for fear that they would send him back to his prison, back to his darkness… and me, because I was always proving myself to them. Proving that I was a friend, despite how I was bound to their enemy…

We allowed the feeling to ricochet through us, to echo in quiet pulses across both of our minds, our thoughts flooding together in a tidal wave. It was getting easier for us to do that on command, as opposed to simply when one or both of our lives were threatened.

Distinctions between us blurred. My eyes snapped open, as did Loki's; there was not even a nanosecond's pause between the two. It was no longer one or the other; it was both of us, the same person, two halves of one whole, working together towards the same goal.

And Steve was right to wonder about what the link did for our battle tactics; until this point, the two of us had never fought together while linked in this way and in close proximity to each other. Or, really, we hadn't fought together at all; save one time, long ago, when we have been fighting against each other, the link still raging in our heads, used for a purpose it was never meant for: a weapon.

But now… well, this was what we were meant to do. What we were meant to be.

A smile curled on our faces.

We did not have to say a word; not out loud, and not in our heads. We knew what we were supposed to do-because Loki had figured it out beforehand, and I was attuned to his every thought and strategy- and we went with it. No questions, no answers; we knew what we needed to know.

We did not hide. Hiding was pointless. Steve had forbidden the teams from working with each other, but it was obvious who they would each come for first; and if we were going to fight them, we were going to do so out in the open, where they could not surprise us, could not sneak up on us. As far as was possible, Loki had chosen the most wide-open space in the room; he and I stood back-to-back in the center of it, two pairs of eyes scanning the area. I could see everything, everything through his eyes and mine; because they were all my eyes, our eyes. Extra arms and legs and eyes and ears and noses, an entire phantom being that had never existed before; I was Loki's other half, and he was mine, each of us agreeing totally on every single movement. I could move Loki's arm as easily as I could move my own, and he could do the same; but there was no distinction between us, we each decided what we wanted to do together.

His eyes caught sight of Clint first, though we saw it at the same time; this was hand-on-hand, so there were no weapons involved, which meant that he would be without his bow. Loki pretended to not have seen him, scanning the area; but now he was looking for his brother. A moment later, my eyes zeroed in on the Thunderer. It seemed that the other two were nowhere to be found; not yet, anyway.

But one thing at a time.

Clint's strike came fast and direct; a distraction, aimed at the Trickster… Loki recognized the tactic and we turned, so that I was facing Clint and he was facing Thor; a better comparison of abilities. By myself, Clint could easily kick my butt six ways from Sunday; but that was by myself. Now, it was different. Now, I was another person. Now, I had Loki.

And Clint wouldn't see me coming.

It happened very quickly; Clint's blow came towards me- pulling back slightly to keep from actually doing any damage- and I dodged it, gripping his wrist as it flew past me and pulling it towards me, using his weight against him. I directed him towards Loki- like tossing something from one hand to the other- who flung the archer down to the ground. Clint was back up in a heartbeat, now beside Thor, who had come towards his brother…

I mentally swore as my eyes saw Natasha lingering in the background, watching the fight from a distance, Stark beside her. We decided to ignore them, for now; we had our hands full as it was. I went beside Loki, blocking Thor's first strike as Loki weaved around him, arriving behind Thor; Clint got in the way, and the two exchanged blows for a moment as I skidded backwards, away from Thor's strikes, wishing desperately that I could flare into the bubble… Loki and I were merged so completely, our thoughts so meshed that his jealousy for his brother was becoming mine… and I was starting to see crimson around the edges of my world, starting to feel hatred wishing the bubble to life…

We quelled that. Now was not the time for it. We needed Thor. We needed them all.

I traded blows with Thor as I started backing further and further away from Loki; but the link had no distance limit. We were still as tightly woven together as we ever were; and Loki's battle experience was still mine. His knowledge still powered my muscles; still made me faster, stronger, better. I ducked beneath one of Thor's blows and dodged to the side, stepping around him so that Loki and I could switch places. My fighting skills were better suited against Clint; which was likely the reason why they had chosen this particular strategy.

This mock-fight went on for quite a while; Natasha and Tony eventually joined in as well, taking great care not to gang up on me and Loki; after all, Steve had told them not to ally themselves with other teams. Everyone fought everyone. That was how it worked.

Loki and I fought together far better than I ever could have expected, far better than even he anticipated. The others were forced to call out little words and hints at their battle strategies to one another, short orders such as, "Now!" or "Thor!" or "To your left!" Keeping in communication with each other at all times, keeping their eyes on each other… Loki and I didn't need to do that. We didn't need to monitor the other's movements; we were each other's movements. He was me and I was him and we were us. There was no distinction between his thought and my action, or vice versa. Indeed, there was no 'his' thought and 'my' thought, no 'his' action and 'my' action. There were our thoughts, our actions, one in the same.

And it was incredible.

It felt… right.

Loki and I lost ourselves to the training session, to the false battle. The Avengers, working together, were like a well oiled machine; they knew each others strategies and thoughts and plans, but that was nothing compared to us. Loki and I were one, and we were lost inside of the battle, in the heartbeats between action and reaction, in the adrenaline that set our limbs ablaze, dulling all pain-physical and mental. We were the battle, breathing in the brawl, losing ourselves in the fight.

Tony fell first; we somewhat expected that. He was a metal man without his armor to shield him, without his glowing heart to pump vicious energy through copper-wire veins. Natalie's body got the first hit on him, but Thor was the one who finished him; he pulled out of the battle with ease and grace, conceding defeat by backing out of the sparring match. His partner, Natasha, held strong for quite a while; she and Clint locked in battle while Loki and I handled Thor; always a difficult task, and something that was so much harder for us; for we were simultaneously fighting ourselves as well. Fighting our inner desire to destroy, to battle at our fullest strength, to fight with magic and the indestructible shield…We had to stop ourselves, to keep ourselves from digging fingers into eyes and clawing and kicking and spitting and screaming…

Natalie loved Thor. We focused on that. We held onto that. Natalie loved Thor as her brother, and it kept us from resorting to dirty tricks, kept us bound in chains of honor. He was not our current enemy. And he was never Natalie's enemy. Fraye. Fraye was our only current foe.

We had to remember that.

Natalie was thrown out next. Or, rather… I was. Thor landed the right 'death blow' on me, and I was forced to back out. It was almost painful, to walk away while Loki was still on the battle field; and both of us almost cried out as we pulled away from each other, separating back into normal distinctions again. Tears burned in my eyes as I walked away, and Loki gritted his teeth against the pain; he stumbled slightly in the fight, but managed to remain upright. The two of us were completely disoriented, our minds struggling to cope with the sudden reappearance of borderlines and walls and proper pronouns. Somehow, somehow, Loki forced himself to keep himself fighting; though we were both wounded by the sudden separation, and I was certain that I wouldn't have been able to keep myself doing the same, if I were him. I could barely stagger away from the battle as it was, without falling down onto my hands and knees and throwing up.

It worried us both; if this was how difficult it was to simply half-separate after being bound so tightly together for so long… what would happen if we were that way during the true battle and one of us actually… died?

I knew the answer. Loki refused to think about it, but he knew, too. If one died in battle, so would the other. It was no longer even a question.

Despite Thor's attempts to help the archer against his usual partner, Clint soon followed me after Natasha mimed breaking his neck. I smiled a little as he sat down next to me and Tony, watching from the distance. Well, so much for teams; though all three of said teams were still in play, only one member from each was still 'alive'. I watched as Natasha, Loki, and Thor all fought each other, an intricate three-person dance with twisting, agile steps… finally, Natasha stepped wrong, and the other two dancers pounced on it; there was a spark in Loki's green eyes as he took the opportunity presented to him, as he finished off the Widow. She took a moment to back away and joined us in the loser corner; I gave her a wry smile, and she gave me a tired half-smirk in return, but it did not touch her eyes. Now it was just Thor and Loki, continuing with the sparring match, and the Trickster's eyes were gleaming just a little too brightly…

Loki, I suggested softly, seeing where that gleam was going and not liking it in the slightest. Take a dive.

He ignored me for a moment, falling back to dodge a blow. He questioned my reasoning without forming an actual question, too involved in weaving about Thor's strikes to take the time to think of actual words.

I mean it. We've proven ourselves useful. You don't need to actually win this battle. In fact, you probably shouldn't; it'll make them too nervous. There was a pause, then I added, you know you can't do this by yourself. You know you won't be able to stop from hurting Thor; really hurting him. Trust me. Take a dive.

Again, he ignored me for a long moment, losing himself to blows and strikes and the dance of death… but eventually, his mind opened up a little more; listening more intently. Allowing me to convince him.

If you did win this, I continued with my cool rationalizations. Keeping him focused in logic; logic was all that mattered. Which you might or might not, then you would have him at a point where you could deliver a death blow. Can you honestly say that you would not take that opportunity?

Can you honestly say that he will not? He questioned in turn, finally forming actual words.

You know him as well as I do. I answered, brooking no nonsense, because we both knew that he was stalling. It would not do wonders for his pride to lose to his brother-and the Avengers- again. You and I both know that you can cream this guy in your sleep. Brains win against brute strength every time. Why should it matter if you pretend to lose one battle?

This was, of course, a lie; or at the very least, an over-exaggeration. An ego stroke. And Loki knew it, too. But, as it had on a few occasions beforehand, it worked; because he allowed himself to believe it. At least for now. Because, really, we both knew that him allowing himself to believe this was the only way he was going to tear his thoughts away from the battle long enough to take a fall, to pretend to lose.

He blocked a few more of Thor's strikes, then allowed one to slip through. Then another, which followed up on that one, and then he was stumbling backwards. Thor's assault continued for a while, until Loki fell onto the ground; easily the end, as Thor was out of range of his feet in a heartbeat, aiming towards his throat. A mock-blow came within reach of Loki's face, but pulled back quickly. Thor straightened; the battle was over.

He held out a hand to help his brother back to his feet.

Loki ignored it, pulling himself upright as I did the same. He gave me a look from across the room, an are-you-happy-now-Frost glare that cut straight through me. He was angry. He was always angry. He could defeat Thor, one day he would, he was certain of it…

We've gotta survive Fraye, first, I told him pointedly; he looked to me as the Avengers gathered together loosely around Steve, who was walking to the center of the room. Loki and I fell into step beside each other, hovering once again a few feet behind them.

"That went well," Steve said, raising his eyebrows, half-joking. Everyone exchanged rueful looks; it was one of the most intense, high-strung training sessions I'd ever been through in my life. And I was sure that everyone else felt the same way, too. Loki stayed standing as tall as he could, but there was black ice frosting over his green eyes. If we had been alone, I would have put my hand on his arm, would've told him that everything was ok… but I didn't think that would go down well with anyone, considering the circumstances, so I kept myself to myself and my lips firmly zippered shut.

"Thor gets the cookie!" I said, in as bright of a voice as I could, barely managing to make it sound real. Only Loki would have guessed that it was false; everyone else rolled their eyes or chuckled softly. Tony even clapped a hand on my back. "So, are we rolling with powers now, or what?" I went on, "I wanna crack out the mighty bubble of death."

"Same here," Stark said, rubbing his shoulder, where Natasha had gotten him pretty good. "This working without the suit thing isn't working. At all."

"Not yet," Steve answered, and the two of us groaned in unison. "We have a few things to work on first. Weaknesses that need to be fixed." He looked to me and Loki, gesturing to us vaguely. "And I need to talk to you two about… what you did."

Loki's eyebrows went up as I asked, "What we did?"

"You noticed that too, huh?" Clint asked, folding his arms and falling into a semi-relaxed position.

"Noticed what?" I asked, a little worried, "What did we do?"

"You were spooky, Pizza Girl," Tony chimed in. "Never seen you like that before."

Not true. I'd sparred with them before while Loki and I were linked like that, when our connection became that much stronger. And I'd fought the Hounds beside them with the same thing. Why was it so different now that he was here, as opposed to imprisoned? The Trickster and I fought to keep from sharing a look; a show of familiarity had to be avoided for the time being.

"JARVIS, pull up the footage from that last sparring match," Tony ordered of thin air. "And keep it focused on these two." He pointed at me and Loki.

"Of course, Mr. Stark."

Loki and I turned to the holographic display hesitantly. My hand automatically tried to reach out to his, to calm my suddenly-racing heart, to keep my hands from shaking… but I kept it pinned next to my side. It was almost painful. Just moments ago, Loki and I had been the same person. You wouldn't think twice about holding your own hand, or rubbing your hand over your arm… But now we were ourselves again, and there were rules that had to be followed. Protocols to be observed.

We watched our projected selves fighting with the others; and if I do say so myself, we were pretty freaking incredible. Our responses to each other were exact, coordinated beyond even that of the Avengers, whom had always impressed me so much before. Our movements weren't exactly the same, but synchronized perfectly nonetheless. There were even times when one of us would help the other in performing a move; providing balance during a kick or linking arms for a brief second to help propel the other forwards… Loki and I watched in silence for a long moment, not looking at each other. Really, we had both expected as much, but there was a difference between that and seeing it, first hand.

"No…" Loki suddenly breathed; his thoughts, I realized abruptly, were following a very different track from mine. "No, that can not be…"

Ignoring the Avengers, not seeming to even notice that they were even there anymore, his eyes zeroed in on the mini-battle on the holo-screen. "Frost," he said after a moment.

"What?" I asked.

"What does this look like to you?" He inquired, not facing me, gesturing to the blue-washed figure of me fighting the Avengers. I frowned, studying it.

I couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. "I dunno."

He let out a half-sigh of exasperation, and pointed with one long, thin finger towards the mini-me's arms. I was still blocking blow after blow, each movement fluid and…

And…

"No," I whispered. I started shaking my head back and forth. "No, no way!" I laughed quietly, stunned.

"What, what is it?" Barton asked behind us. He was ignored.

"Do you think…?" I looked to Loki. He looked back to me in turn.

"It's possible," he answered mildly. I lifted both eyebrows.

"Only one way to find out," I said, struggling to keep back the stupid little grin that was threatening to break out on my face. I wasn't paying attention to the Avengers anymore, either; I was lost in the excitement of the moment; I could deal with them later.

Loki was in agreement with me; he took a few steps back, away from the Avengers, giving us both some room as I followed. Before the supers could get it in their head to follow us, Loki threw a sharp blow towards me; fast, furious, not holding back.

The others immediately reacted, jumping or- in Tony's case- crying out, "What the-", but I, of course, was waiting for this. My hand rose up to intercept his, a similarly fast and sharp block, throwing his strike off and keeping it away from its initial target: my face. But still I scowled.

"Nope," I said, flicking out my fingers. "Damn."

"Again," Loki ordered smoothly. "And do not think. React."

I nodded a few times and tried to obey, to turn my brain off and simply go with the flow of the movements. He threw another strike, and another, a volley of blows that I parried easily, one after the other. The Avengers watched us in silence, clearly confused by our strange behavior, but they were, again, ignored.

After a moment, I was able to lose myself in the fight; just for a second, but it was all I needed. As Loki's strike came towards me, my hands naturally reacted. My entire body naturally reacted; as my wrist turned a certain way and my fingers fell into position, a strange feeling bubbled up in the bottom of my stomach, an emotion unidentified curling up in my heart and spreading through my blood, down my shoulder and out my fingertips…

I gasped, stepping back away from Loki, whose eyes had narrowed on my hand. Nothing had happened, not outwardly, but we both knew the significance of what had happened inwardly.

"Exact," I breathed in shock, lifting up my hand and studying my fingers. "That was exact to…"

Loki was nodding slowly, joining in on my little half-conversation. "Every muscle, every nerve, everything in precisely the right place." He took my hand, examining it carefully. "No reaction, of course, but that much is to be expected… you're only human, after all…"

"Ok!" Tony exclaimed, getting really tired of us and our crap. "Explanation! Now!"

Loki and I looked up to him, perhaps remembering him and the others for the first time. I yanked my hand out of Loki's, then gave him a look out of the corner of my eye. He returned it; how in the hell were we supposed to explain this to them?

I started picking my words very carefully, thinking of a good way to phrase it, when Thor took the job from me.

"It's magic," the Thunderer said. Everyone turned to him, and he kept his eyes on us. "Natalie's movements are like those that my brother does when he uses magic."

I nodded; Loki's eyebrows turned into a squiggle line, curious as to how his brother would know such a thing. Thor had never really paid much attention to the strange power that Loki had always found himself so fascinated with. There were many aspects of magic to which Thor had always remained oblivious; Loki had not expected his brother to know even this much. I hadn't either, but I let it go; maybe Thor paid more attention to Loki than the younger had ever thought.

"Exactly," I agreed with the Thunderer.

"And they are fairly complicated moves to master," Loki added, barely managing to keep from his tone how impressed-and slightly bitter- he was. The fact that I, a mortal, had this degree of skill and knowledge over magic because of my link with him… it somewhat irked him. He had not spent all of those years mastering this power for a ridiculous human to learn it from him without ever trying…

But he let this slide. Tony was looking at me with a newfound sense of worry.

"So what does this mean?" He asked. "Is Pizza Girl gonna start abracadabra-ing up energy weapons and stuff now?"

I shook my head as Loki answered, "Unlikely. She is only human."

"I'm not physically capable of manipulating magic," I explained his statement. "Humans aren't sturdy enough; more likely than not, it would rip me apart before it was of any use." I turned to the Trickster. "If I weren't…"

I threw a blow towards him; Loki blocked it in precisely the way I had, a sweep of energy flared from his fingertips, slamming into my fist, my bones making a loud, resounding crack as they slammed against it. I shook out my fingers, biting my lip to keep from hissing out curses. I'd known it would hurt, but that didn't stop it from being incredibly painful nonetheless. This little green shield of energy hovered for a brief moment in front of him before fading away into nonexistence.

"That is what would have happened," I went on, then shoved my knuckle in my mouth as it started to bleed. Ow. Just ow.

"However…" Loki said slowly, ignoring me and my knuckle pain, "There is another matter to consider."

I looked to him, head tilted to the side, curious. And then my eyebrows shot straight up as I followed his train of thought. "You think…?" I mumbled around my fist.

He nodded slowly. "Natalie already has a great deal of magic in her system." He explained to the others as I removed my hand from my mouth, saw it was still bleeding, and shoved it back in. "The machines inside of her bloodstream are a blend of both your science and Asgardian magic; and, thus far, because of this combination, that magic has not damaged her."

"But she could learn to manipulate it?" Natasha asked, catching on immediately. Her eyes darted between me and Loki and back again. "Use it as an advantage?"

"It's possible," I answered, stressing the word 'possible' as much as I could. "Highly unlikely. And I'm not going to be able to do anything huge; the nanos can only do so much. But that is the general idea." My knuckle was still bleeding. I stuffed it back into my mouth irritably.

"Nonetheless, an advantage is an advantage," Loki concluded for me. "Magic certainly has its uses."

Loki, I warned, seeing where this conversation was heading far in advance. Shut up.

Thor voiced the question that I had seen inevitable. "But magical energy can not be created from nothing. And what little energy is inside the machines will not be enough to be of much use."

"And if it's completely depleted, she'll die," Bruce put in. "Her system is addicted to that energy. She can't live without it for long; that's why we haven't taken the things out already."

Not true; Loki had offered to take the nanos out, once. And Bruce had figured out for himself that there would be a way to wean myself off of this addiction… but I had refused. I liked my super-bubble, thank you very much. But still, for all intents and purposes, this was true; if I wasted away all of the energy inside of the nanobots without giving them time to replenish themselves… well, let's just say that it would be bad.

"But the death bubble takes energy, too," Tony pointed out. "The nanos are science, fueled by magic, correct? So why doesn't that take energy out of you?"

"It does," I said with a shrug. "Just… not as much. It was never designed to sap all of the energy out of the nanos. But to use magic would take a fair degree of energy, possibly greater than that of the bubble."

"So you'd need another energy source. Like the Tess-" Bruce stopped talking abruptly.

A weighted silence fell over the entire group as Banner's unspoken word sank in. Loki's eyes flicked to the ground.

I refused to look down. Taking a single step forwards, placing myself in between the Avengers and Loki, I agreed in a clear voice, "Yes, Bruce." I lifted my head, my chin jutting out just the slightest bit. My knuckle was no longer bleeding; the nanos had finally kicked in, and the small wound was scabbing over as I spoke. "Exactly like the Tesseract."

I'd known the conversation would head here. It was the reason why I'd wanted Loki to stop talking about how this me-doing-magic thing would be an 'advantage'. I knew that was truly how he viewed it, knew that he was just trying to find any possible way to fight Fraye that he could… but why wouldn't the Avengers simply see another plot? Another way for Loki to get his hands on that glowing, blue, unlimited source of power?

My hands closed into fists; the movement strained against the newly-created scab and caused it to twinge painfully. I ignored this as I met every Avenger's eye individually. Some of them looked away. Some of them met my gaze. Some were looking directly at Loki.

And one was outright glaring at me.

Barton's hands were similarly in fists, trembling just slightly at his side. I could imagine what he was thinking; thinking of how many people would have to suffer what he had, should Loki retrieve the Tesseract again… thinking of the days when his eyes had turned blue, when he had been unmade, rewritten, his every core moral and standard erased and replaced. I met Clint's gaze without backing down, even and neutral as opposed to dark and hostile.

"But seeing as that isn't currently an option," I went on, "It seems we'll have to deal with what we have. Aye?"

Shit.

The 'aye' had slipped in out of nowhere. I kept my gaze even, as though it was not a slip, as though it had been intentional… and Loki did not look at me. We acted as though nothing was wrong, as though I'd meant to say that… and not as though it was Loki's influence on my thoughts… He had been speaking Spanish, and now I was starting to sound like an Asgardian… damn mind link really killed us both sometimes…

The others didn't react, save for a raised eyebrow or two; and when Thor answered, "Aye," everyone relaxed. Muscles no longer so tense, fingers uncurling from fists, jaws unclenching, everyone started to go on with their normal lives. The group relaxed slightly, falling back into their usual stances.

After a long moment and a few half-hearted mutters, Steve finally got us back on topic. "At any rate," he said, "I'd still like to talk a bit about what happened during that last match."

And so continued our training session; the single longest, most tedious and stress-filled training session of my life. And I'd been through quite a few since I'd first met the Avengers.

We discussed strengths and weakness, flaws and failings… we went through about two more hand-to-hand, powerless matches before we finally were allowed to bring out the big guns. I can't even begin to tell you how good it felt to stretch out the bubble, to feel it warp around me like a second skin, protecting me from the dangerous blows that were sure to come. We were meant to keep the damage down to a minimum, of course; no anti-tank missiles from Tony, no lightning from Thor, no overly-lethal magic from Loki.

It naturally made everyone uncomfortable when Loki magic'd up his spear from thin air; even after I explained that he was only able to do this now that Odin had relinquished the protective magic that had once been surrounding it; after all, Loki had been let out of his cell in order to fight, not to sit around defenseless and helpless while the big boys tackled the deadly shadow creature. Thor arrived as a welcome ally on my side in this matter.

"My brother has said that he will fight with us, and so he will fight with us." The Thunderer had said, in a firm tone that brooked no debate, subtly shifting his weight so that he was standing beside me; and in between Loki and the Avengers. "You can not expect him to do so weaponless."

When the Avengers had eventually conceded, I'd given my 'brother' a little lopsided grin. Loki had pretended as though nothing whatsoever had happened. Life went on.

Training finally ended a while later; we were all exhausted, pushed to our limit, and Bruce was looking bored beyond belief, watching us all. Steve dismissed us all; but only after my phone started ringing in my pocket, and only after I told him that it was definitely an important call. Not that I particularly wanted to answer it, but it was important. I cut out of the room as everyone started to disperse, and Loki followed after me smoothly. I didn't protest as I quickly pressed the 'accept call' button on my phone. It wasn't like any of the Avengers would be particularly amenable to watching over the Trickster at this point.

"Hello?" I said the word as a greeting, a question, and an accusation all at once.

"Natalie?" Cameron's voice came from the other end.

"My phone, isn't it?" I grumbled. "What do you want?"

I was irritable, I'll admit. But, considering my mother's earlier voice message about how my father was 'going insane' because of my most recent decision involving Loki… well, let's just say I didn't care so much if that hostility bled through.

Cameron didn't seem to care if his hostility showed, either. "Is it true?" He asked; there wasn't really a question in his voice. It was all accusation, all judgment. "Is Loki back on planet?"

"Sure is!" I said, with as much forced pep as I could muster. I threw that bright energy in his face as the words ripped out of me. "In fact, he's here right now." I turned on my heel, whirling to face Loki, my now-messy ponytail bouncing around on my head as I did so. "Wanna say hi?" I asked of my father, still with false cheer. Black poison was dripping in the back of my throat, and each word rubbed against it as it came out.

Loki raised an eyebrow at the question, but he said nothing, not interrupting. He was giving me his best scrutinizing gaze, studying me intently, piecing me together, figuring me out.

"There are a lot of things that I want to say to that man," My father growled in response, his voice low and guttural. "'Hi' is not the first thing that comes to mind." He sighed in heavy, harsh exasperation. "What the hell were you thinking, Nat? Vouching for him? Bringing him back here?"

"Oh, don't act like I didn't warn you," I growled. "I told you to go! I told you that there was a new threat in New York!"

"A new threat! Not Loki! Not him, not again! That man is a murderer, Natalie, a monster!"

The word touched a nerve. An animalistic snarl curled my features in a decidedly ugly way, and my nails started digging into my palm as my free hand-the one not holding the phone- curled into a fist at my side. "Oh, really?" I asked, my voice soft as velvet, smooth as glass… but bleak and burning, reflecting the fire that had begun to consume my heart. "You're really going to pull the whole 'monster' thing, dad? Because if I recall…"

"Frost."

I looked up, cut off mid-rant. Loki, standing on even ground with me but still a lot taller, looked down at me and shook his head slowly. I blinked, and his eyes met mine, stern and serious. Keeping me from saying something that he knew I would regret later.

I took a long, slow, deep breath and held it, keeping my eyes, unblinking, on Loki's. I debated in my head whether or not to just keep talking anyway, as the flames inside of me were urging me to do… but after a long moment, I let that breath out in an even longer sigh, forcing myself to cool down.

There was a long silence on the phone. Finally, I switched subjects; it was physically painful to force the words out of my mouth, but I managed it. Barely. "Who… who even told you about this, anyway?" It wasn't the biggest concern on my mind; but it was a concern. I was fairly certain that it was the Council's doing, as a little underhanded revenge for me not discussing the Loki situation with them before I went to Odin. Not that I really cared about the Council, but dammit, if they went at me through my family again, things were gonna die.

"One of the SHIELD agents." He answered curtly. "They've been coming over pretty frequently since you told them about the lesions." The 'lesion' thing was a low blow, a subtle reminder as to what, exactly, Loki had done to our family… but I forced myself to not comment on it. It was too subtle to be really called a 'dig' anyway.

"Which agent?" I demanded. I wanted to know who was on my side and who wasn't.

"I don't know, they're a dime a dozen, Nat." I could imagine him shaking his head out, waving an irritated hand. Using my gestures. After a moment, though, he came up with a name. "Burns, I think. Agent Burns."

I stiffened, every muscle locking into place. Panic flashed through me, and my eyes darted up to Loki, who had a similar shocked look on his face. My throat tight and my lips dry, I asked, "Female?" The words came out in squeaky, choppy sentences. "Black hair, black eyes? Extremely pale skin?"

He didn't seem to notice my tone; bitterness still edged its way into his words. "Yeah, that's her. Why, was she your old secret agent BFF?"

Sarcastic little jerk. He sounded way too much like me. I shoved these thoughts aside as I started running down the halls, Loki on my heels. "Cameron, listen to me," I ordered, hoping that the severity of the situation wouldn't be leeched out of my words by the phone's speakers and his own anger. "Get out of there. Wherever you are, get out of there now. I'm calling Fury, we're gonna get you onto the Helicarrier, ok? Where are you? Where's mom?"

Loki started ordering JARVIS to call the Avengers together at the bottom of the Tower as we made it to the elevator. My feet itched to be running, not standing around, but I made up for that by listening intensely to the conversation in my ear.

His irritation at me had definitely bled out the necessity in my voice. "Maybe you'd know that if you spent a bit more time around your family instead of that maniac-"

"Cameron Frost!" I shrieked, slamming my hand into the elevator wall; Loki stepped out of the way just in time to avoid the strike, and my open hand made the metal ring loudly. "If you do not tell me where the hell you are in the next ten seconds, you are going to die, do you understand me? You'll be dead! Dead as a friggin' doornail! Clear enough? There is no time for this petty bullshit!"

That got through. "What… what do you mean? Natalie, what's going on?"

"I'll explain later!" I said in a rush. "Just tell me where you are!"

"I-I just got off of work, I was… I was driving home!"

"Don't go home. Don't even try. Just get to Stark Tower, ok?" I shifted from side to side quickly, willing the elevator to count down the floor numbers faster. "I'm sending a few of the Avengers your way, so don't freak out, ok? They'll cover you on the road." I was already considering who to send where; Tony and Thor were the obvious choices. They could fly, after all, and Iron Man could tag along with my father's car from above. Banner would have to stay at the Tower, take care of the SHIELD stuff, provide backup if necessary. That left Natasha, Steve and Clint with my mother; not the most powerful of all of us, not strong enough unless Loki and I tagged along… and at this point, nothing, but nothing could stop me.

"But your mother…" I could hear worry creeping into Cameron's tone. "Anna…"

"Don't worry about mom," I snapped quickly. "I'll take care of her, ok? Just get to the Tower. I'll see you after I get mom, ok?" Fear was pumping my blood too fast, and anger was making me see red. The entire world around me lit up as a brilliant glow spread across my skin, radiating from within me. I was pissed. I was beyond pissed. Loki recognized this and kept silent as the doors slid open; Natasha, Clint, Banner and Steve were all there. Still waiting on Thor and Tony.

Loki explained the situation to them in quick tones as I told my dad, "Just get here as quick as you can, ok?" and hung up. I was already dialing my mother's number before Loki had even finished his first sentence. My heart was pumping pure fire. Tremors radiated down my spine and sent me shaking.

"Hello?" My mother's voice was clear in the speaker. "Natalie?"

"Mom!" I shouted. "Shut up, don't say anything, just listen. What floor are you on?"

"I'm sorry?"

"What floor, mom, I know the building, but what floor are you on right now?"

"Why do you need to know?"

"MOM!" I shouted; Loki gave me a we-don't-have-time-for-this-look, and I shook my head out. "All right, whatever, just get to the bottom floor and wait for me there, ok?"

"Natalie, what on earth is going on?"

"I'll explain later! Get down there now! Life and death, madre, just go!"

"Natalie-"

"Please!"

I could almost imagine her biting her lip. Thor arrived, and Clint re-explained everything to him; the others were all immediately falling into crisis mode, not questioning what Loki and I said, no longer seeming to resent his presence in the slightest. We were fighting a war now. There wasn't time to be worried about the quality of the soldiers.

"All right," My mother said at last. "All right. Fine."

I almost sang in relief. "I'll be there as soon as I can, just stay there!"

I hung up again. Tony arrived at last, and I immediately launched into my plan; dividing up the team to their respective duties. As I concluded with, "Banner can stay here and phone in SHIELD; they might be able to relocate my parents, get them somewhere safe," everyone turned to Steve.

"Cap?" Tony questioned. Running the plan by him before doing anything. The Soldier nodded.

"Go," he said quickly. "Clint, you drive. Loki, you're here with Banner."

"Loki comes with us," I growled, not bothering to okay it with anyone, gripping the Trickster by the sleeve and dragging him along. When Clint tried to protest, I turned to him. I knew that the tears which had been burning my eyes had overflowed by this point, knew that I looked like crap, knew that I looked… desperate. But that was exactly how I felt; and there was no way in hell that I was leaving Loki, one the best fighters here and the only person-save me- who knew anything worth a damn about Fraye, back at the Tower.

I turned my accusing, watery eyes to Clint, to the others… "He comes with us," I repeated, my tone dark. "He knows more about Fraye than any of us combined." I was trembling, still clutching Loki's sleeve in a death grip. The silence was deafening. I choked out the words, but not for lack of determination; I simply couldn't speak. "These are my parents. He's coming."

Again, one by one, every stare turned to Steve. He contemplated for a long, weighted second, then nodded once. "We don't have time to argue. Loki's with us."

I gave him a curt-but-grateful nod and walked on. Loki allowed the slight indignity of me still clinging to his sleeve-mostly because neither of us was sure if I could let go- as we all piled into the car. I watched Tony and Thor fly away, off down the main road between my father's work and Stark Tower. I'd given them a description of his car and the license number; he'd be safe soon enough.

We took one of Tony's cars; it was large enough for all five of us to sit relatively comfortably, with Loki and I in the far back. I was chewing my nails with reckless abandon, my foot tapping out a dangerous beat as I trembled in the seat. Natasha sat directly in front of us, with Clint in the driver's seat and Steve on the passenger's side. I was feeling shaky and unstable, tasting blood in my mouth as the fire that had been eating away at me began to char the air surrounding me, to deplete the oxygen in the air and turn it to ash, making it hard to breathe…

I knew that there were no real flames, knew that this fire was not real… After all, no one else could see me spontaneously combusting, and I could see myself through Loki's eyes; I looked perfectly normal to him. But I could feel each tongue of flame devouring me whole, the monster inside of me prowling around inside of its cage as the bars began to turn molten-orange, to melt. Razor-sharp, blue-hot claws slashed at the air around me, and I knew I could kill, knew that if I got my hands on Fraye for two seconds… for two seconds, she would be dead…

My hands clenched and unclenched at my sides as the drive went on with agonizing slowness. I'd released Loki's sleeve by now, but it was all I could do not to grip his hand and crush his fingers. I didn't think that the Avengers would take too kindly to me holding his hand, but we both wanted to; me, out of desperation, out of the need to be certain that there was something solid in the world, something permanent and real, some voice of reason amid the chaos and tumult that turned my brain to mush… And him, because he wished to be that permanent thing, that voice of reason. It was in our nature to help each other, after all; we had to…

After about half of the drive, however, he gave in; with a who-the-hell-cares-about-the-Avengers-anyway look and attitude, he took my hand, sliding his fingers around mine, and squeezed them carefully. I squeezed it in return, so tightly that I was certain I heard something crack, but if it hurt him, he did not show it. Panic was making my head light, the world spinning; part of me was floating and distant, not here, not at all… The rest of me was a great big knot of nausea and anxiety, curdled up in my stomach… Over and over again, I was hit with the sickening realization that I could lose my mother, or my father, that those short conversations on the phone could quite possibly be the last ones we ever had…

I'd never told my father 'I love you'…

I could see it, in my mind's eye, a hundred thousand different situations and scenarios… arriving too late or just in time, seeing Fraye slaughter my mother before my eyes or having her slip through my grasp at the last second, holding onto my mother's hand as she bled out on the floor, as red began to stain my hands… Or maybe she wasn't killed, maybe she was merely scarred, maybe the Shadow Wounds would cut across her skin, infected and vile and burnt and black and painful, painful for the rest of her life… I couldn't stop thinking about the scars on Loki's arm, or the cuts on Jekyll's side and Bruce's shoulder… imagining them decorating my mother and father, a macabre pattern of twisting misery…

"It's not going to come to that, Frost." Loki's voice was soft, but it caused most everyone in the car to jump nonetheless. I saw Natasha's gaze slide to us, watching out of the corner of her eye. She took in our clasped hands without a single word; and she, like the others, was largely ignored. I looked up to Loki, feeling… weak. Vulnerable.

And raw; there was a large, gaping wound that stemmed out from my chest and spread out… everywhere. It was raw and sore and bleeding, and the fire did not help. It only burned all the worse. Tears spilled out of my eyes as I looked back to the floor of the car, holding his hand tighter, shaking from head to toe. You don't know that, I whispered in my head, too weary to speak out loud. My anger was at once both empowering me and draining me of all energy; my every limb felt like rubber, and yet the fire kept me sitting perfectly straight, kept me ready for battle.

Two of Loki's fingers-the index and the middle- tucked themselves beneath my chin, lifting it up so that I was forced to look at him, forced to meet his gaze. His emerald eyes were hard, filled with ice. His fingers were absolutely freezing, and I was surprised that they did not melt around the blazing inferno that surrounded me…

Your parents have known of my return to Earth since this morning, he reminded me, his mental voice a stern and steady lecture. Forcing me to hear all things reasonable and logical. Fraye was with them then, not now. If she had wished them dead, they would be dead.

Don't you get it? I raged; because I knew he could take it. Because I had to direct my anger at something, and he was close. Because the monster within had slipped its leash, and I had to say something cutting and punishing and cruel, and Loki would know better than to listen to me, he never listened to me before… Don't you remember? Back before all of this, when April was alive, when you and I weren't… this… You waited. You didn't speak to me for a whole month, you waited until I went out of the Tower before you screwed up my life again, before you became a part of my life again… because it messed with my head! Because it made me suffer! What if she's doing the same thing? After all, what would be the point in killing my parents if I'm not around to see it, to be hurt by it? Why wouldn't she wait until I knew she was there, until I tried to save them…?

I clamped my teeth onto my lip to keep from sobbing. It didn't work; the muffled sound slipped out of me nonetheless. We were almost there. We were almost there.

Loki recognized the truth in what I had said. He turned away. He no longer bothered to lie to me, to tell me that everything would be all right. What was the point?

As the car pulled up to the curb, I threw myself out, not even bothering to wait for it to roll to a complete stop. Natasha followed soon afterwards, and Loki and the others. I didn't even look at them as I flung myself towards the building, looking like a crazed maniac as I tore into the perfect, controlled environment where my mother worked. Thankfully, I had managed to kill the glow before I got out of the car; but that didn't make me look any less crazy as I made it inside.

"Mom?" I called out; the word echoed in the wide area. A few people looked in my direction, but if their features didn't match up with my mother's, I didn't give a damn about them. "Anna!" I tried again; I was in the professional world, after all, someone might recognize the name more than they would recognize my face… "Anna Rose!"

"Young lady," the receptionist behind the counter, wearing a red sweater buttoned over a white shirt, made complete with tacky gold earrings and a matching necklace, was obviously displeased by my appearance. "Keep your voice down," She scolded; I recognized her now, with her obviously-dyed honey hair done up in a perfect, tight bun, and her shrill voice like a cat being tortured. She used to give me the same admonishment whenever I came in with my mother when I was younger; and she gave me that admonishment now. "This is not a playground."

I wanted to choke her. If I wasn't so distracted by the urgency of Fraye, I probably would have. Or I would've asked Loki to do it for me. "Anna Rose," I said breathlessly, my hands slamming down onto her desk, scattering papers about as the Avengers entered the room behind me, slower than me for once. The receptionist raised an eyebrow and mashed her wrinkled lips into a hard, thin line, glancing at my sweat-slicked hands in highly visible disdain. I ignored this. "Have you seen Anna Rose Frost?" I demanded.

"Not today," she answered in a cool, even monotone. Her nose wrinkled as recognition finally sparked in her eyes. "You shouldn't be here, Natalie. Your mother is a very busy woman. She doesn't have time for your games anymore." She pointedly yanked out the papers from under my hands, adding in the most catty tone possible, "Honestly. You are an adult now, are you not?"

I had been turning away. I had been returning to my search. But the instant she said that, I whirled on her, my eyes downright ancient as I snarled, "Lady, you have no idea how old I am."

"Frost," Loki chided, already moving towards the other end of the room. Natasha brushed past me, placing herself between me and the receptionist. Good thing, too, because I was about to rip her wrinkled throat out.

"We need to find Anna Rose," Natasha said in a cold, clear, and obviously no-nonsense tone. But she was perhaps a little more polite than I had been. "Perhaps you could send out a general call over the intercom?"

Call. I yanked my cell phone out of my pocket, jamming the number on speed dial and holding it next to my ear. Two rings buzzed through the speakers as the Avengers dispersed, Clint following Loki as though worried that he might actually try something. I had more pressing concerns.

And then I heard it. The little factory jingle, the same stupid freaking ring tone that the phone came with, that almost every phone in New York had… so generic and bland and blech that it used to drive me insane… my eyes darted around the room, scanning everywhere; Loki's did the same. He recognized the ring tone as well as I did.

Our eyes zeroed in on the phone at the same time.

In the waiting area, sitting on the couch, not even paying attention to us, was a woman. The phone buzzed on the table in front of her, ringing and vibrating and being annoying in general. The woman turned the page of her magazine in a bored, unhurried fashion, then seemed to recognize the phone ringing in front of her.

"Oh!" She exclaimed in a girlish voice, then giggled quietly. "Well, I'm an airhead," she swept up the phone with hands like talons, clawing over the small device. She flicked it open, black eyes finding mine across the room, locking dead on. Lips painted blood-red by lipstick curled into a smile as they whispered the words in my mother's voice: "Hello, Natalie. It's good to see you again."

I stared. The phone dropped out of my hand, clattering to the ground. The others turned to the sound, turned to where I was facing, turned to Fraye.

No.

She continued to smile at me as she closed the phone with one hand, her long and unpainted fingernails making small clicking noises against the plastic casing. There was no trace of the little child that we once knew in this figure; this was… a predator. Dangerous, standing tall… she wore Midguardian clothing now, as she always had in my memory, but not in Loki's…

But these were not the little kiddy outfits that we'd given her, or even the tattered clothes she'd been wearing when she first appeared. A black dress that only just came down to her knees, with thin straps holding it up, marking an 'X' across her back as she half-turned away from me to put the phone in a small purse beside her. Her black hair flowed in beautiful curls, and blood-red shoes matched her flawless lipstick… the dress wrapped tightly around her, clinging to her, showing the sickeningly visible arch of her spine… if she did not look so pale and unhealthy, if she did not seem so bone-thin and death white, it perhaps would have been an attractive look. As it was, she looked like a Mistress of Death.

As it was, with my fury poisoning my vision, she looked to me like a dead man walking. Rage exploded behind my heart, rocking through me with all the force of a shockwave. I didn't bother picking up my phone; I left it where it was on the ground and took a single step towards her.

"Where is she?" I demanded in a low, dangerous tone. She only smiled. "Where is my mother, you bitch?!" I screamed.

She made quiet, tsk-tsk noises, clicking her tongue and shaking her head back and forth as she stood slowly. The black fabric sashayed around her knees, dancing and fluid as shadow. "Now, really, Natalie, what would she say about that language of yours?" She left her purse where it was on the floor, my mother's phone still inside, as she took a few steps towards me. She leaned into her walk, moving with catlike, animalistic grace. Her shoes-flat, without high heels- made loud, echoing noises throughout the entire lobby, each one like a strike. In the corner of my eye, I saw Clint heading towards the fire alarm. Natasha and Steve had fallen into position around me, and Loki…

I'd thought that Loki might be standing, petrified on the other end of the room. After all, just when you think things can't get any worse, they invariably will, right? But the Norse god of Mischief was standing directly next to me, just slightly behind, covering my back. Fear was very much alive inside of him; for us to form our bond in battle now would mean that fear would spread to me; and currently, we could not afford that. But he was still here. Still ready to fight.

Thor had been right, all that time ago. Loki was many things, but he was no coward.

"Where is she?" I repeated, shaking from head to toe. The fire alarm suddenly blared into life; Clint wanted everyone to evacuate out of the building, I was certain. Everyone in the lobby who was not completely engrossed in whatever the hell was going on with us started towards the doors; but Fraye's smile only stretched as those few standing in here left, evil honey-haired receptionist included. Shadows suddenly flicked into life beside the stairway doors, blank black walls that blocked off all exits; stairs, elevators, everything, locking us, trapping us inside the lobby…

And trapping everyone else who was still inside upstairs.

"It really is quite fun, Natalie," She purred, slinking across the room and over to me. She began circling us; all of us. Step by step. We made certain that one person had an eye on her at all times as she walked around us, surveying, studying. "Oh, all of your little friends fascinate me, it's true." I thought I saw blood dribbling out of the corner of her mouth as she took an unexpected step towards Steve; the Captain tightened his grip on his shield. "The Soldier, out of his time, all of his friends and family gone… such a challenge, to find a weakness in a man who has nothing…" she giggled, stepping back again. Her black gaze flicked between Clint and Natasha; the Hawk had drawn back an arrow, aiming it from across the room at the Shadow Child. "And then, of course, there are the spies… with so much red on their hands, I find it a wonder that they think they have any place to judge my favorite little plaything here…" She cooed out the last words, her hand reaching out to stroke Loki across the shoulders… the edges of the world turned absolutely pitch black as the rest of my vision turned crimson… I was so furious that I almost passed out. How dare she use that name, how dare she say those words, how dare she touch Loki, how dare she damage him again, how dare she speak to Steve like that, to Clint and Natasha, how dare she even exist…?

"And then of course, Thor and the Iron Man offer some interesting prospects as well, but you!" She tilted her head back and laughed, her hand not leaving Loki's shoulder. She was no longer circling, and the way her hand dug claws into Loki… it was almost… possessive. Loki was doing an incredible job of hiding his fear, of hiding his true, mortal terror… but I could feel it. Everything inside him was straining to flee, whilst everything inside of me was dying to fight.

"Well, you're something special, Natalie." Fraye said with a toothy smile. "It's not many people who will do what you did. Oh, I've seen my fair number of those who want to figure me out, want to figure people like him out." On 'him', she squeezed Loki's shoulder ever tighter. He still did not move; everyone was looking to Steve for the command to go, to fight… everyone but Loki. Loki was looking directly at me, and I at him. We weren't Avengers. We followed our own rules. Our own command.

"But not one of those people had this…" she kept up the playful grin as she considered the word, "Connection to someone else. The fact that you, of all people, bound yourself so irrevocably to my favorite little toy…" she chuckled, shaking her head; her black curls bounced around her features as she did so. "You have no idea what you have done, mortal. What you have condemned yourself to; what you have condemned him to."

Despite everything, despite the monster within tearing me into shreds, despite the flames devouring me whole, despite the bright vengeance that was coursing through my veins… a warning bell sounded off in the back of my head, a relic of the old days, the time before the fire and the fury, a time when sense and reason and logic meant something… a warning to listen, to remember this later. The shrink in me never truly died, not even when the monster had taken its place. I would almost have said that she was speaking from personal experience…

But for now, I was too angry to ask her about it, to elaborate on it. I simply watched as her nails dug even further into his shoulder; Loki was absolutely petrified. Only I, looking directly at him, could see the fear in his eyes… but it was definitely there. Flashes of memory were dancing across his mind, terrible times of darkness and blood, with the sounds of his own screams echoing in his ears…

Slowly, Fraye lowered her blood-red lips to his ear; he could feel her breath, colder than even his icy skin, as she stage-whispered, "But don't ever forget, my little giant. You may lay claim to this mortal …" Her hand released his shoulder at last, drifting down to his back, fingertips brushing across his shoulder blades… "But you will always be mine," she hissed; the words came through her teeth, and for the first time there was venom coating them… Loki cried out as the scars on his back-I knew they were there, he had told me so himself- reacted to her touch, the shadows that infected each wound writhing inside of his skin, craning to reach their master… They cut and burned with each renewed touch, for Shadow Scars never truly heal, never truly stop causing pain…

It was over. The bubble was out, the glow was flared, and I was launching myself at Fraye, completely lost to reason and sense and thought.

I actually landed a punch on her; not because she didn't see me coming, but because she couldn't be bothered to react quickly enough. She slid backwards with the blow, and as I raised my fist to strike again, the shadows swarmed, pushing me away… Fraye chuckled, brushing out her dress, not looking unruffled in the slightest as the shadows battled against me and I against them, trying to tear through them as they tried to tear into me… the Avengers were surrounding me in seconds, fighting the shadows, and Loki was beside me, but our minds were not as closely linked as they had been before, my pure and utter loathing keeping me from thinking long enough to do so…

"You keep your filthy paws off of him!" I screeched at her, pushing through the darkness as it tried to swallow me whole. Fraye watched, an amused half-smile on her features as I struggled and strained towards her, towards the light behind her. I burned my glow brighter, hotter, and the shadows receded a touch; I pulled myself towards Fraye, but the shadows pulled back, long, thin strands fighting against the movements. It was like moving through tar. "You keep your hands off of him, you give me back my mother, you get off of my planet and you stay the hell away from us!"

I was inches away from Fraye by now, but the shadows were closing around my arms, holding them behind my back, clinging onto the force field that had become my second skin… Fraye just chuckled softly.

"Oh, relax," she said flippantly, waving a careless hand. "I'd never do anything to hurt poor, sweet, mommy Frost." And then the smile flicked back onto her face. "Except, you know. Maybe this."

I kept thrashing inside of the darkness; the shadows had swallowed Natasha, and though Clint was keeping them off of him by firing arrow after arrow into each shadow that attempted to strike him, it was looking like more and more of a lost cause with each second. Steve was holding most of them off with his shield; he and Loki were working together on that front, and seemed to be better off because of it. Loki's face looked pale and ashen, sweat beading on his forehead even as he fought… everyone was a little slower than usual, after all, we'd just been training for hours beforehand already…

Fraye retrieved her purse and pulled something out from inside it; a tiny cardboard box. She shook it next to her ear; it rattled a few times, and she seemed to take delight in the sound… I expanded my bubble out to circular form, throwing off all shadows around me; but this time I had learned my lesson, and shrank it back down before the shadows could swarm inside of my weakness, placing it back in front of my mouth… it was only then that I realized that I had never before had this kind of control over the bubble… not without Loki's help, at least. But that was no more than a passing thought; I was charging at Fraye again.

She opened the little box, pulling out a single, small piece of wood with a red tip; a match. She lit it against the side of the box, and just before I could reach her, a thousand shadows converged on the flame, swamping it, putting it out, swallowed by it…

And then, suddenly, they exploded.

I was protected; I had my force field to keep the fire from burning me as they flared outwards, the flaming darkness exploding away from that small match tip… it brushed past us and caught fire to everything, the shadows seeping into the dark corners of the room and the fire spreading wherever they touched… Steve shielded Natasha from the black-and-orange explosion, the two of them dropping to the ground and half-hiding behind some piece of furniture… Loki would've caught a great deal of the blast if I had not thought to send my bubble outwards, a wall between him and the flames… Clint was the unluckiest of us all, managing to get behind the receptionist's desk just in time, though his sleeve and pant leg caught fire, and he cried out, rolling on the ground to put it out…

"Bottom floor, ladies and gentlemen! No other way out!" Fraye announced, throwing her arms out wide as the fire caught on the walls, the ceiling… I hadn't thought it possible for it to eat through anything so quickly, but the building was being reduced before my eyes; ash and smoke filled the air as the blackness disappeared, and only the fire remained…

"You have a choice!" She shouted, pointing one small, bony finger towards the fire exits, still clogged with shadow. "You can follow me…" She grinned. "Or you can save everyone in here. Everyone. Including Mrs. Anna. Rose. Frost." She broke my mother's name into four separate sentences and threw out her hands again. "Your choice!"

She started towards the door. Everything in me was screaming to follow, to destroy her… but the flames were choking everything, making it impossible to breathe… we had to get everyone out…

Why? Why was she giving us this choice? Why hadn't she just vanished into shadow if she wanted to disappear? Why had she even bothered to do this to us in the first place? What had been the point of this little charade, this little game?

There it was. Right there.

This was a game.

She didn't care about the consequences. If something didn't seem to make sense, then it probably didn't. It was all one big joke to her, something to amuse, a little bit of fun.

I didn't allow myself to keep thinking about it. Thinking wouldn't get me anywhere. My mother was in this building. She was here, somewhere, amid this smoke and ash and flame… the fire inside of me did nothing to help things, I was sure…

Steve was already running towards the shadowed exits; the blackness dispersed around it with one touch, and he threw them open. A stampede of people, clogged inside after Clint had pulled the alarm, all started running out. I was quick to follow in this plan, throwing open the other doors and escapes, and people charged past us, not seeming to notice that half of us were in costume and the other half were freaks…

Well, I was the only freak, glowing as I was… but no one stopped as they caught sight of the fire, only ran towards Clint and Natasha, who started directing people out…

"Loki, with me!" I shouted above the crackling, raging inferno, heading inside as the flow of people in one of the staircases slowed to a trickle. "Steve, keep the others down here! Loki and I will take the upstairs!"

He froze; distrust burned in all eyes, brighter than the flames, but before I could scream to him that we were the most indestructible of the current group, that Loki could partially control fire despite his general distaste for it (he was a Frost Giant, after all), Rogers nodded. "Go!" He shouted, gesturing us away with a wave. "Hawkeye, Widow!" I heard his order grow dimmer as Loki and I ran inside. I felt Natasha's stare on my back, but ignored it. Now was not the time. "Get these people out of here!" Steve's final order faded to nothingness as I ran up the stairs.

There were too many floors; we were never going to make it in time. I ran to the first as Loki began examining the second, calling out for people to run… there were a few stragglers here and there, but as I made it to the third floor and he to the forth, those numbers diminished. I could smell the smoke, could imagine the floor getting weaker beneath me as I ran… dimly, somewhere in the back of my mind, Loki and I both wondered why he was even bothering to do this, why he was trying to save the lives of mortals… But we pushed that question aside and blamed me for it. My influence tended to be what got him into trouble all the time, these days.

There were way too many floors. I was getting exhausted, and the smell of smoke was following me, polluting my air. I couldn't breathe… but still I ran. I was desperate; what if we missed someone? What if we didn't get everyone out, what if someone died because I wasn't fast enough…?

I pushed my legs harder.

"Natalie!" I heard Steve's voice bark into my earpiece. I'd almost forgotten I was wearing it. "Get out of there! The building's about to collapse!"

I ignored him and kept running, though Loki changed course. Seeing that I was not doing the same, he asked warily, Frost…?

Go, I told him. I'll be fine.

He saw my plan. Didn't like it. Even if your shield protects you from the building's collapse, you will still not have time to search every floor.

I can try.

He felt the tears in my eyes. He felt the stitch in my side as I made myself run faster, the sobs hitching in my throat. It was more than likely that everyone had gotten out. That they had all ran for the exits the second that the fire alarm had started. But if there was one casualty today, then it would be one too many.

Fraye had spilled enough blood.

He hesitated, then started towards the exit. Let us hope you know what you are doing, Miss Frost.

I nodded curtly, knowing that he would feel this gesture if not see it, and kept searching. I hadn't expected him to stay, anyway. He wouldn't take too great of a risk on his life just for the sake of some mortals that may or may not be here. I felt him taking the stairs, felt him moving amid the fire, untouched by the nightmarish flames… but they had reached a higher floor than I'd expected… I was running out of time…

I no longer searched each floor; instead, I called out to each one and hoped for the best, hoped that anyone inside would have the sense to call back. If there was anyone, they said nothing. I had to force myself to keep moving after each one, frightened that I would miss something, that their cries might not be loud enough… I had to resist the urge to search the entire floor anyway; time, after all, was slipping through my grasp, eluding me.

"Where's Natalie?" I heard Steve ask of Loki, listening in to his thoughts without really processing them. Just running. Losing myself to the ache in my legs, in my lungs.

"She stayed behind."

"And you let her?"

"Have you ever been able to control her?" There was a bite in Loki's response. It was mild, but it was there.

"NATALIE!" Steve's words blared in my ear. I tore the earpiece out and threw it aside. I didn't even stop moving. "Natalie, come in!" His voice still continued in my head, transferred through Loki's thoughts. I didn't care. I was running. I had to save someone. I had to save everyone.

To this day, I wonder what kept me going. What kept me running. Why I didn't turn back then and there, why I was so bloody certain that there was someone else there, someone else left to save. There wasn't. It wasn't like there was some little kid trapped on the top floor, curled in the corner, crying out for mommy. It wasn't like there was anyone that needed my help. But something drew me onwards, running away as fast as I could from the flames that were beginning to catch up to me… I could feel their heat on my back, the warmth burning through my shield… the smoke was thick, impossible to see through. I couldn't breathe.

"You just don't know when to quit, do you?" A hyper, girlish giggle sounded from a few steps before me. Fraye leaned against the wall, black eyes entirely dead despite the brilliant grin on her face. "I knew it would be you. Out of everyone, I knew you'd be the one to do this. To make sure." She shook her head out. I didn't even slow down as I tore past her, ignoring her. "You're so…"

I didn't hear what I was… not for another two floors. And then she was in front of me again, finishing her sentence as though there hadn't been even a second's pause. "Predictable."

I disregarded her, pretended that her words did not exist. Something was drawing me onwards. I had the sickening feeling that it was her. There was no one left in the building. No one left to save. I was all alone in this burning inferno, all alone in the world as the ceiling began to crumble, as the entire building shook and collapsed around me…

I cried out as I fell, down, down, down the floors, colliding with the ground… I slumped against the wooden pillars and metal beams as they were crushed beneath me, my weight and the unstoppable force of my shield reducing them to splinters and squashed metal as I collapsed. Still alive. I was still alive. I looked up, seeing the shaft of light bleeding through where I had fallen. The flames were all around me; I was breathing them in…

The shadows swirled and danced, clearing the flames away from me as I choked and coughed and retched. I had to keep moving. I had to keep going up. I'd fallen a few floors, but I had to keep climbing, to get to the top…

No! Loki ordered. You are not going to get yourself killed for this! You are not going to get me killed for this!

His words fell on deaf ears, into deaf thoughts. Determination made me lurch forwards, stumbling towards the shadows, which led me down a tunneled path, protecting me from the blaze… I couldn't breathe… I was coughing again, but still I was climbing, climbing up, clambering over the rubble…

"You truly want to die, don't you?" Fraye asked, amusement coloring her tone as sat, perched atop a pile of rubble, legs crossing, then uncrossing, her feet kicking back and forth. They were bare now, pale white amid shadow-black and fire-orange. She seemed perfectly at home in this, the screaming chaos. Truly a creature of nightmares. "Really, Natalie, I'm surprised that you would do that to him. Kill yourself off to save someone else… I mean, what was the point? If you die, you know what will happen to him." She grinned, twirling her finger around one ear in that universal 'coo-coo' sign. "He'll lose his ever-loving mind."

"Stop talking," I growled; but it was weak, and I was coughing before I could even get both words out.

"And then he'll just go crazy again! Then he'll just start killing! Just like last time! Just like with Jotunheim!" her feet kicked back and forth even faster as I crawled on, but I was suddenly weak, exhausted… I didn't have the strength… I couldn't breathe…

"And then it would have all been for nothing," She stressed, still in that girly, careless tone. "April's death, your attempts to 'forgive' him, your link with him… kaput! Meaningless! People will die because you did, because he won't be able to live without you! Your link was only ever a temporary solution, Natalie; did you really think it would mean something when your mortal lifetime ran out?"

"You don't know that!" I shouted against the smoke, clutching my chest, gasping for air. I forced myself to my feet and was moving again, feeling as though every step was bringing me closer and closer to a burning, ashen grave… "You don't know that's what would happen! You don't know that's what he'd become!"

She pursed her lips, like she'd just tasted something sour, though her eyebrows were still arranged like this was some big joke. Her eyes, however, were completely, totally, and utterly dead. Lifeless. Blank.

"Of course I do, Natalie," she said, sounding almost taken aback. "Didn't Loki tell you?"

I gave her a dark look. If Loki had told me anything, then she would know. Her games were getting old. Besides, in the back of my head, Loki seemed as perplexed by her words as I was. Well, that and mortally terrified by the fact that I was this helpless in front of her…

She shrugged, her small shoulders pointing inwards as she did so. "It's what happened to me."

She laughed at my stunned expression. My mind was whirling, faster than fast, to click all the pieces into place. "Oh, but where are my manners? I was supposed to save you right now, wasn't I?" She winked at me. "Can't have you dying just yet. The possibilities between you and my little giant are endless!"

The shadows suddenly wrapped around me, cradling me… I didn't have the energy to fight them off. I fell limp inside of them as Loki fought to keep from freaking out… and then I was thrown away, thrown from their grasp, launched into the air…

I collided with the wall, breaking a hole through it and was suddenly falling, falling, falling, plummeting to the earth at breakneck speeds… the shield locked me in place against it in anticipation for the inevitable collision… I landed with incredible force, digging a crater in my general shape as people screamed and ran aside… my arms, I only now realized, were raised in an 'X' above my face, protecting it, hiding it, shielding it away from the rest of the world…

I couldn't move. Every muscle felt rigid and tense and painful. But someone's hand clasped around mine-not Loki's, he was still making his way towards me- and from what the Trickster saw, it must have been Steve's. He helped me to my feet, subconsciously shifting in front of me, hiding my face, keeping people from seeing me.

"Fraye," I gasped out, still finding it impossible to breathe. I took a step forwards and stumbled, almost falling to the ground again; Steve kept me upright as Loki joined us. The Soldier handed me over to the Trickster, barking out the order, "Get her to the car," and turning to the crowd.

"No…" I protested feebly as Loki's arm locked around my waist, keeping me upright. "My mother… I have to find my mom…"

Loki firmly steered me towards the car, Natasha flanking my other side as Clint and Steve dealt with the crowd. "We can't let them see you," Natasha hissed to me. "Either of you," she added to Loki, who nodded once. It was unlikely that anyone would recognize him-his face had mostly been hidden in the chaos of what had happened in his first attack on earth- but we couldn't take chances anymore. This had escalated into a bigger emergency than we'd anticipated; and now that Fraye was gone, we could afford to be more on the cautious side when it came to our identities. But Fraye was not gone. Loki and I knew as much; she was still there, still in the building…

"No," Loki whispered; just low enough for me to be certain that Natasha could not hear it. "She is not."

He seemed confident, and I did not question him. I had more pressing concerns than the Planet-Killer. My mother was still missing. As Natasha helped Loki get me into the car and the Trickster sat in the back with me, taking shelter inside the heavily tinted windows, I struggled to get away from him. But the smoke, more than anything, had taken a lot out of me; I was coughing and hacking for a full three minutes after Natasha closed the door behind us. By the time I was finally finished, my fingers were tingling from lack of oxygen, and my lungs felt like someone had ripped them out of my chest, whacked them a few times with a baseball bat, then shoved the whole squishy mess back inside. The shield, I only now noticed, had died around me, though the glow was still alive and bright, brighter than usual. I shivered from head to toe, but no longer out of rage, and most certainly not from the cold. It was an agonizing feeling, but I couldn't quite identify the reason for it.

Loki was watching me from the seat beside me, keeping his distance, making note of the intervals between my coughs and surveying me closely. His eyebrows were pulled together, an expression almost of… irritation. But though this was what his face portrayed, it did not seem to be his true emotion. He was… mildly concerned, and thus irritated because of it- he hated having to care about what happened to me- but other, more troubling thoughts were clouding his mind. Specifically, what Fraye had said.

For the first time, however, I was not interested in what had made Fraye into what she was. I was still angry at her. Furious at her. All of those people… she would have burned them alive, just for her stupid little game… I wanted her dead, not fixed, and that scared me a bit. I'd forgiven Loki for some pretty grave atrocities, even before this link had made us the way we were; why could I not do the same for Fraye?

Then again, the instant Loki had touched April, the tables had turned. The instant he touched friends and family, I'd wanted him dead. Mostly. I got used to the idea after a while, gotten used to the nightmares about my family being killed… but still…

I looked out the window, suddenly wishing that I had not destroyed my earpiece. I wanted to know the instant that one of them found my mother. I wanted her here, I wanted her safe, I wanted this all to be over. But instead, I was waiting, alone in the car with Loki.

Alone.

Alone with Loki.

The fact hit me, a bolt from the blue, and a welcome distraction. The Avengers- or at least Natasha and Steve- had trusted me and Loki to be here, alone, in a car. With chaos and confusion all around, where it would be ever-so-easy for the two of us to just slip away, to disappear from their sight forever, to escape them… A little bit of pride forced its way into my chest, taking the edge off of the fear and panic and rage. But it was short-lived; in seconds, the grimness in the air sapped away any kind of pride, any kind of hope.

I leaned with my elbows on my thighs, my head lowering between my knees as I strained to breathe… I was exhausted. Not sleepy, per say; if I was given the biggest, plushest bed in the world right now, I doubted I could sleep. But I was tired nonetheless. I wanted this to be over. I wanted my mom to be safe, I wanted to be back at the Tower with the Avengers, with my family… I didn't want to have to explain things to my father, didn't want to have to go over everything with my mother, I just wanted to go home, knowing that everyone was all right, then curl up in a ball on my bed and cry myself out. No… no, I was too tired to cry. I didn't know what I wanted to do.

"I did not wish to tell you," Loki's voice was quiet. I turned to him. "You were so… selectively oblivious. You believed that you could keep this… connection with me, without any consequences."

I realized that his train of thought was very different from mine and worked to put mine on the same tracks. I blinked a few times, trying to reorient as he looked away, his green eyes almost… sad.

"I had no idea that… that this was the reason that Fraye became what she is…" he went on, not looking at me. "But… if that is the case…" His eyes were almost- almost- pleading as he turned back to face me. "What is to stop one of us from doing the same, should the other die?"

I swallowed; my throat, already raw and sore from the smoke inhalation, now felt thick and gooey as well.

"And you will die, Frost," he went on, "That is… inevitable. You are mortal." He looked down. He was listing each fact with a dull monotone, with only the volume of his voice-or lack thereof- to indicate the fear behind each word. "If we survive this… If we survive Fraye… I will outlive you."

I flinched. Imagining it, the emptiness where his head now was… cut off from him, ripped away from him… His thoughts no longer with me, no longer hearing his sarcastic remarks, no longer seeing his green eyes, no longer feeling his feelings, no longer having his heartbeat beside my own… I couldn't live in a world like that. He was, perhaps, stronger than me, he, perhaps, could live without me, but why would he try? Why would he try to keep himself from losing his mind, from devastating worlds in his anger, in an attempt to fill up that void, to fix his pain? If this had happened to Fraye, then that was exactly what she was doing; why wouldn't he? He'd gone on crazy rampages for less. He had always turned his pain into hatred for the world, had always blamed the world for what had happened to him…

So if I died, and he did not… then this really would have been for nothing. My attempts to save lives by keeping him from killing people… it would have been pointless. People would still die, whether I stayed with Loki or not. And now… well, now I was past the point of no return, now I had no choice…

And… and if Loki died… if I was left in that abyss…

What was to stop me from becoming exactly like Fraye?

What would keep mefrom becoming a killer, a murderer? I had the ability, didn't I? Did I not have the monster within? What was to stop me from being just like her?

The thought made me sick just thinking about it, made me feel like I was riddled with filth, like I needed a long shower to rid the grime from my skin, like I needed boiling hot water to scald out the impurities from my veins. I tried to force the worries to one side, though they remained, rattling around in the back of my brain. Loki seemed oblivious to my current state; he had worries of his own.

"I tried not to remind you of this," he said after a moment. "I tried to allow you your selective ignorance. It is bliss, after all." His eyes were out the window, unconsciously scanning the crowd in the same way mine were. Looking for the familiar features of my mother; with no success.

"But you knew," I pointed out, unable to keep the mild, mild sting from my words. I wasn't strong enough to be angry at him as well as everyone else. "You've been worried about this for a while now." I looked to him. "Haven't you?"

He did not look back. I sighed and glanced to the window again.

"You don't have that right. To determine which truths I should and should not know, should and should not forget about."

"She told the Norse god of Lies."

I scowled. He gave me a measured, even look, and I turned away. He had a point, I hated to admit. I allowed him as much freedom as was physically possible with our link; allowed him to keep secrets, if they weren't central to what was happening, allowed him to have his own private thoughts when he knew every one of mine… Ignorance may have been bliss, but knowledge was power, and no one knew that better than Loki. If there was something he knew that he could keep to himself, then he would, simply for the sake of having that power for himself. He thought things through, determined the importance of every little detail, before he shared any information with me; or pointed out information that I already knew. He was a liar, he lied all the time, and if he could not lie, then he would not tell the truth, either. It was simply his nature.

We fell silent for a very long time, my hands twisting about in my lap. It felt odd, to be sitting perfectly still inside this car, while chaos reigned all around us, people screaming and crying as the building continued to collapse, to fall inwards on itself, to be reduced to ash and rubble… and all the while, inside our little silent space, there was no sound but our quiet breathing, no screams and no smell of blood. Just us. Silent. Alone.

I leaned on my hand and looked out the window, knowing that they were tinted, that no one could see me. My every muscle ached. I was bruised all over, though as usual, my bubble had helped me escape cuts and any major injury. I was just so tired…

"Frost," Loki's voice was the first thing that alerted me to the Avengers walking towards the car; I hadn't even been paying attention to his thoughts anymore. We'd been linked almost all day during training; I wanted to be myself more than I wanted to be him right now.

I turned to see what he was looking at and saw them, Clint and Natasha and Steve, moving towards the car in a calm fashion, helping someone along.

"Mom!" I exclaimed, exhaling a huge sigh of relief. I jammed my hand against the unlock button and climbed over the seat so that I was in the back, as opposed to the far back, where Loki remained. He shied away from us, away from my mother's searching eyes, as though knowing that they would narrow in judgment the second she caught sight of him. Currently, however, my mind was far from Loki and anything he was doing.

I wrapped my arms around my mother; it was an awkward position in the cramped car, but neither of us seemed to care as she hugged me in return, holding me close. I could feel quiet sobs making her body tremble, could see small trails left in the grime on her face where tears had fallen down her cheeks, and I held her tighter.

"It's ok now, mom, you're gonna be ok…" I whispered to her, fighting back my own tears. "It's gonna be all right…"

"What are you doing here?" She asked, pulling back, half-hysterical. "I mean… how did you know… the building… the fire…?" She was looking around at all of the Avengers-Loki took a deep breath in preparation as her eyes touched him, but she seemed blind to his presence.

"That doesn't matter right now, mom," I answered quickly. Because Fraye had my mother's phone. It was her I'd talked to; not Anna Rose. But my mother didn't need to know about Fraye just yet; and so instead I placed my arm around my her shoulders. "It doesn't matter anymore," I whispered. "You're ok now. That's all that matters. We'll explain everything once we get back to the Tower."

Her eyes had still been whipping around, searching the faces of everyone inside the car. As Clint turned the key in the ignition and the engine purred into quiet life, my mother's gaze found Loki. Her eyes darted up and down his entire frame. Natasha was sitting next to him-I'd taken her earlier seat, after all- but was not looking at him; the two of them were both looking out of their respective windows, ignoring everything that was currently happening. Ignoring us.

My mother scanned the Trickster, and recognition seemed to click into place on her features. She'd never seen Loki herself before, but I'd described him a few times; the slicked-back black hair (now ever-so-slightly ruffled from both training and the latest scuffle with Fraye) the green eyes, the narrow cheekbones, the green-themed clothes…

Her eyes widened in horror. I swallowed.

"We'll explain everything," I re-emphasized.

The car drove on.