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.

20. Leave Me to Dream

WHAZZUP, SUCKAHS?!

Yeah! That's right! It's me! Natalie Freaking Frost! The Crazy Chick with the Bubble! Loki Laufeyson's Night Light! The idiot who will probably die in her PJS!

I'M BACK, BITCHES!

So yeah, in case you haven't noticed, I'm not dead yet! Any day that you can say that is bound to be a good one, right?

I didn't know what was happening when I heard the explosions; when I heard the sounds of Hounds' growls, and a deeper, more guttural roar that I recognized, but didn't dare try to identify. Because it would be too much to hope for, that the Avengers had found me, after all this time. Too much to expect, that the Hulk would be outside right then and there.

And when the door to my room had opened, I had cried out… I had been so certain that it was Fraye, that she was back, that my world was going to be reduced to nothing but pain once again…

But then… then I'd seen Loki. And, well… you know the rest.

"And where the hell have you been?!"

Loki stared at me, looking almost numb with shock. I couldn't stop the smile. My cheeks were beginning to hurt. Tears poured down my face and I couldn't have stopped them even if I wanted to. Because he was there, he was right there, and this silence in my head was going to end, this emptiness that had held me so encaged was finally, finally going to be filled…

He was so close… he was so close…

For a brief second, he simply stared at me. And then, suddenly, in one abrupt motion, he was beside me, kneeling in front of me so that we were at eye level. I could feel his hand on mine as he struggled to remove the shadows that bound my wrists to the metal chair beneath me. "Natalie," he whispered, his hands trembling, and he had a hard time keeping his fingers at work on the shadows, had a hard time focusing on making the shadows obey him. His hands instead tried to trail up my arm, to reach for my face, to be certain that I was really there… I didn't protest- I didn't have the will to protest, even if it took longer for him to release me- as his hand made its way to my face, and gently stroked the bruises along my jaw line. His touch was as ice-cold as ever, and I closed my eyes, leaning into it, crying into it, because I had forgotten. I had forgotten what 'cold' felt like, because he was cold, and cold was safe and cold was home and I had been trapped in this place with nothing but my own mind and small fragments and portions of his mind to remind me of what I'd once had… and I'd been on fire at all times, the world burning around me, everything set aflame…

His forehead pressed gently against mine, purposely avoiding the cut there. "Natalie," he groaned softly, an agonized sound. His voice was a soft murmur, but his words were too fast, as though there were a thousand things that he wished to say. "Realms spare me, Frost, what has she done to you…? I… I am so sorry, Natalie, I didn't… I shouldn't have…"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up," I repeated, over and over, but I was still crying. He was so close. He was so close, and yet, his mind and mine were not yet intertwined, I could not hear his thoughts, not as I once had. "Stop it, just stop it, we'll figure that out later, okay? Please, I can't… I can't deal with that right now…"

It was true. I couldn't. But I dared not tell him why. The shadows broke apart around my wrist and my hand immediately went up to him, to his face, trying to be certain that he was truly there, that this wasn't just another insane dream…

"No, Frost," he whispered. Somewhere past him, I dimly registered that Clint was standing by the door, joined moments later by Tony, in his Iron Man suit. But they didn't matter so much at the moment. My vision, and my brain, were all focused on the Trickster in front of me. "Please, for once, let me say this…" Loki went on. I was startled to see that his eyes were bright blue, not green… for a moment, I suspected a trick, but then I remembered. Of course. He must have 'fueled up' with the Tesseract.

"I shouldn't have… How could I have been so blind?" The shadows around my ankles shattered. There was only one wrist left, and he started to work on it quickly. "Natalie… I love you, I'm sorry, I should never have done this to you, I should have realized sooner… I'm so sorry…"

His voice was just the barest breath. And it was too much. It sent agony through my heart, because I wanted to believe him so badly, so desperately… but I had Fraye's voice still screaming into my ear, reinforced by the burning lash of shadow across my skin…

He left you here! He left you for dead! He sentenced you to this! This is his fault, Natalie! This was all him!

No.

I pushed the thought away as forcefully as I could, as I had been doing for four months now, for four eternities… Because Loki was here now, and I never had to give in, this pain did have an end and the promise of that end was sitting right in front of me, watching me with those empty, numb, but tear-filled eyes…

I smiled sadly, tears still streaming out of my own eyes. "Then prove it," I whispered. His forehead still rested on mine, his face the barest few inches away… I closed my eyes and tilted my chin up. "Because right now, you can still lie to me."

I pressed my lips up against his just as he reached out with his telepathy. The instant I felt his thoughts begin to wind around mine, I gripped them, took hold, his mind and mine merging, flooding together in a breathless torrent. Gaps where he once was were filled once more, his thoughts taking their rightful place in my head while my mind took its rightful place in his… and in that second the whole world was perfect, because in that second I had my other half back, and we were the same person, two halves of one whole, and his lips were pressed against mine and mine against his and the universe was just… singing.

My heart kick-started in my chest as it felt his heart shadowing over it once again; the two beats immediately fell in sync with each other, a rapid pace that only became faster the longer our lips stayed locked. I knew that there was a world outside of the two of us, but at the moment, I didn't give a crap about that world. That world held pain and fighting and shadows and death. This one right here held Loki and me, and me and Loki, and it was just fine, thank you very much.

The shadows on my wrist splintered, then shattered into a thousand pieces as the connection reestablished itself in my head. It was so much more obvious the second time it was created than it had been the first, so much more prevalent; but then, when we first connected, I hadn't even realized it. Now… now it was everything. Now I was… whole again.

Even if he could see my doubts.

Even if he could see what had been done to me.

I quashed those thoughts, I quelled those memories. We would have time to look at what had happened later, if we lived. If we survived Fraye and this battle.

As Loki eventually broke away, as the urgency of the situation broke us apart and cut us back into separate people once again, I heard Stark say, "Okay. This day is officially screwy. I need a drink."

I peered at him, not standing, not yet. Loki stayed by my side but glanced over his shoulder, so that he could look at the Iron Man. The Avenger's voice had reminded him of more pressing matters. But Clint, amazingly, was grinning; he rolled his eyes at Stark and forcibly pushed him from the room.

"Give the two some privacy, wouldya?" He snapped, ducking back in the doorway just long enough to tell us, "We'll cover you. But we can only give you a few minutes, so get your asses out here quick." He glanced out. "Reinforcements still haven't arrived."

And then he was gone. I looked to Loki, who looked back to me.

Clint. Acting nice.

"Guess I missed a lot, huh?" I asked, still half in shock from everything that was happening around me.

Loki didn't react to that; merely reached forwards to help me to my feet. Gently taking my hand in his, he started to help me up…

And I jammed my arm back into the armrest, holding it there tightly, crying out softly, "No!"

Loki's eyebrows furrowed. He looked to me; he was holding the hand that had the bleeding, injured arm. And I was holding it against the armrest that it had previously been bound to, trying to hide the injuries from him.

He looked to me, immediate worry in his eyes. I shook my head fiercely, the tears welling up again. "No, Loki, trust me, you can't see this right now, you don't want to, please-"

He pressed a hard finger against my lips, shutting me up. His eyes were pleading. "Frost…" he said slowly, reaching towards my arm. I felt, rather than heard, the thought in his head, and its utter sincerity, as his hand traced up my arm, to turn the injuries upward to face him.

Please. I have to know.

I looked him in the eye. He was right. He did have to know, even if it hurt him, even if it killed him. Because he was tired of running from the truth. He was tired of letting the world be shrouded in lies.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, and seeing him do the same, I carefully turned my arm, so that the inner side of my forearm could show. So that he could see the thick, ugly, deep wounds that would surely scar no matter a Healer's help.

I know what he'd expected. It was what I'd expected, before it had been carved there. He thought to see Fraye's name in my skin, just as it was in his, perhaps in English this time, instead of Jotun symbols… He expected to see me marked as her territory, as he had been. He expected to see the name of the one who had claimed me, the person who owned me, and, in the sickest of ways… he was right. Because that was what Fraye had intended, and that was indeed what she had written there.

For there were letters carved into my skin. And they did spell out a name, in curling script of block capitals. A name with four simple letters:

L.

O.

K.

I.

Blood drizzled from the gashes, the edges burnt and blistered, the black shadow infection creeping up and curling around the entire arm. Loki began to tremble. His chest, so unused to emotion after all this time of numbness, roiled about with a number of different conflicting feelings: agony, dread and regret, rage, fury and bloodlust. His fingers quivered as he placed his fingertips along the edge of the cut, magic beginning to buzz in the back of his skull as he called the shadows out from underneath my skin… I tried to wrench my hand away, but he held my wrist in a death grip.

"No, Loki, stop!" I hissed. "You can't do that right now, we don't have time, you won't have any strength left…!" He wasn't listening. His hand flowed with my struggles, remained on the injuries, pulling the shadows out, drawing them out so that they curled up his wrist and flowed up his arm… he cast them aside and crushed them beneath his foot before pressing his fingers back against his name with single-minded determination. He wasn't looking away from the injuries, wasn't looking away from his work, but there were silent tears rolling down his cheeks. Over and over, I heard it in his head: I did this to you, this is my doing, this was all mine. What have I done? What have I done to you?

"Loki, stop it!" I shrieked, yanking my hand forcefully out of his, finally managing to break free. "Just stop it!" My words were accented by the roar of battle outside. We had to get out there. Soon. Now.

But this had to be said. Even before we had to fight, even before we had to defend our very lives, this had to be said. Because I was already drop-dead exhausted, already in pain, and I didn't know how long I would last out there."Fraye has been feeding me that lie since I got here, do you understand that? She has been feeding me that bullshit since the beginning, and I have done everything- everything!- to keep myself from believing it! You know why? Because she wanted me to go back! She wanted me to go back to earth, utterly hating you! She wanted me to try and kill you, Loki, because she knew it would push you over the edge, knew it would make you-or maybe me-just like her! And if that hadn't been the case, if my world hadn't been threatened with the creation of another psycho killer, I would have given up a long time ago, all right?! So I can't… I can't fight this anymore… if you don't help me! If you just let yourself believe that it's all your fault, that the things that she did to me… that it was as good as if they were your hands that did them, I don't know if I can fight it, okay, so please, just…" I lost my breath, feeling… dizzy. I slouched over, against Loki, and wondered how I was going to fight like this. I didn't think I'd be able to. "Just don't even… Just stop. Please."

He held me carefully, not letting me fall, and looked down at me with eyes stricken by blame and self-loathing. But, slowly… he forced himself to nod. He drew me closer, wrapped his arms around me, supporting me and holding me upright. I let myself melt there for a while, into his cold arms, trying to pull myself together. I didn't know if I could fight. I didn't know if I had the strength to. Fraye's last little… 'session' had not been that long ago. Everything still hurt.

But it was either fight or die. Or worse, be dragged back into that endless agony… and if she killed Loki this time, or killed me, there would be no going back from that numbness…

Just the thought of it made me flinch, and I pulled myself out of the hug. "Come on," I said, my voice cracking. "We have to… we have to help."

He nodded quickly. "Can you…" he hesitated, trying to think of proper phrasing. It took him a second too long; I'd already figured out what he was trying to say through his thoughts; he wanted to know if it was possible for me to activate my force field. I shook my head. While it was true, reconnecting me with Loki had reconnected me to the Tesseract through his connection with it, I wasn't sure if that meant that the nanos had been reestablished to their full strength.

"I honestly don't know," I answered, sighing heavily. "But I can try."

He nodded, worriedly. Because what choice did we have? We had to get out of here. And Fraye would never let us go, not while we lived. As we left, we did not bother with goodbyes. I didn't bother repeating to him that I loved him, and he did not bother repeating it to me. We no longer needed to. We both knew.

And we both knew that we'd die before we let Fraye take the other from us again.

I leaned against Loki for support as the two of us exited what were now the ruins of my old prison. I could not have gotten out quickly enough, even if I was still in shock that I was getting out in the first place.

Loki's eyes were immediately scanning the battlefield, searching for any weaknesses, making strategies… a way out, maybe. He was clinging to me as desperately as I was forced to cling to him, holding me upright.

I sucked in a breath. I had seen this battle playing out in Loki's head less than a minute ago, but seeing it with my own eyes… I swallowed; it was chaos. It was pure chaos. The Avengers were holding their own against the shadows, and doing so brilliantly, but I already saw that Natasha was hunching over an injured arm, whilst Clint held the Hounds off of her. There was blood everywhere; even the Hulk was oozing dark green again, though he seemed to be having a blast, polishing off as many Hounds as he could get his enormous green hands on.

But we were still desperately outnumbered; and by creatures that were nigh as powerful as ourselves. I took a deep breath; I was re-connected to the Tesseract through Loki again, so it could be possible… I might just be able to flare the force field… I might just be able to fight…

I took another step forwards, and my knees buckled. Something inside of my stomach roiled; I fell to the ground, no matter Loki's support, onto my hands and knees in the ash. My stomach overflowed, and I threw up right into the ashes of my prison planet, clutching my stomach as blood speckled my lips.

Loki looked to me, anxiety in his eyes. "Frost?" he said urgently. "Natalie?"

"Fine," I growled back after a moment, wiping blood and vomit off of my mouth. His hand gripped mine tightly, his arm around my shoulders; he closed his eyes, and our intertwined fingers began to glow brilliant, pale blue. The Tesseract-colored, Tesseract-powered energy crackled into me, flowing inside of my veins… I felt the nanos react to the influx of power, old systems rebooting, sending sharp pains through my kidneys, burns in my lungs, and a tingling under my skin. I took a few deep breaths, gritting my teeth against the mild pain, waiting it out…

Loki's eyes had faded to green as we knelt there, within the shadow of my prison, watching the living darkness battling with the Avengers. But it still wasn't enough.

That was when the air started to shimmer.

It started as the faintest glow. A subtle shine of blue. Loki's eyes lifted, and his heart started hammering; mine sped up to beat in tandem.

"Wait here, hold on," He ordered, setting me down. I nodded, not in any position to argue, and he kissed my forehead briefly before running towards the source of the shine. It was far across the battlefield, but his spear was already out, and he was already fighting…

"Natalie!" A voice called out; I looked up as a flash of red and blue sped past me; a shadow clanged against the round shield, bouncing backwards, and Steve came up seconds later to finish the thing off. He knelt down beside me, picking the shield back up to temporarily protect us both from the onslaught of darkness. "Good to see you alive, kid."

I laughed half-heartedly, holding my aching ribs. "Yeah, and you," I croaked.

"Where's Loki?" the Soldier demanded. "He was supposed to-"

"Get me fighting, yeah, we're working on it," I cut in. Wincing, I added, "Over there."

Steve looked to where I had inclined my head; the air was still shining. Loki was fighting like a madman to get to the patch of brilliant blue that was beginning to build into an almost flame-like aurora. I grinned toothily, painfully. "The cavalry's arrived."

It was a spectacular sight. Even Steve lifted an eyebrow as the blue flared, expanded, warped… and then solidified. Standing before the army of shadows, Tesseract in hand, was Thor; and standing behind him, was an army of our own.

It was huge. It was enormous. It was the culmination of two separate worlds, sick of running, sick of waiting, ready to fight and ready to kill. My heart was in my throat as I saw Jotuns and Asgardians standing side-by-side, some in full battle armor, some in whatever armor they could pull on in the few minutes they'd had. All were carrying weapons. A lot of weapons.

And it wasn't just the humanoids; I could name most of the creatures that had come with the Asgardians, the wolves trained and armored for battle, the war horses… but half of the Jotun ones were foreign to me, even with all of Loki's memories back in my head. Most of them huge and as blue as the Giants, with eyes that were possibly even redder, they looked big and gnarly and ready to fight whatever came their way.

On either side of Thor stood Kiross and Odin; and behind Kiross was his advisor (whose name I still didn't know, and didn't much care about at the moment), Sigil and Avalon. A crow rested on Odin's shoulder- not one of Fraye's, but his own- and he was mounted on Slepnir; I could see the animal's eight legs from here. Sif and the Warriors Three were behind Thor, an eager firelight in their eyes (except Hogun's, who simply looked determined and grim). The Tesseract's energy still wafted down from the air in feather-waves of magic, drifting and vanishing into nothing before they touched the ground.

Loki, covered in blood-his, mine, the shadow's, we'd all lost track by now- ran up to his brother. I could hear him telling the situation in my head; pointing out everything that had happened, and though many eyes were wide on him, though many were surprised, no one questioned him. He indicated the shadows that were most worrisome and shouted, "These shadows will continue to reform unless Fraye dies! Fraye is our priority! Fraye must die!"

I shuddered, a vile taste in my throat. Don't tell them that, I snarled in my head, though it was not necessarily directed at him. Don't let them near her. Don't let them touch her. Don't let them kill her.

Because that little bitch is mine.

Loki stepped up to his brother as the army charged into battle; I heard the sickening peal of Fraye's laughter above my head as shadow and humanoid clashed, as the chaos intensified thousand fold.

"Get back out there!" I told Steve, who was looking twitchy as the shadows started getting closer. "I'll be there soon!"

If this works, I added in my head. Steve nodded once and threw himself into the fray, his blue suit lost into shadows within two heartbeats. Loki walked up next to Thor and spoke in quick whispers; Thor nodded and handed the Tesseract to him before taking to the skies. Thor, like Stark, immediately aimed for Fraye; but the shadow crows were growing, expanding, until they were bloated and twisted nightmares, flying towards them, large enough to swallow a man and twice as tough. Immediately after arriving, Thor's hands were already full.

I tried to keep track of everything that was happening as I sat there, completely useless. But already the nausea had passed. The nanos had rebooted and were performing their original functions brilliantly; healing what had been injured, fixing things, repairing things. I wasn't going to be great, but I might be able to stand soon. And, if Loki could get the Tesseract to me…

It was always a rush of power throughout my system whenever I came in contact with the glowing blue cube. If I could get that rush, if my nanos could refuel on what they had lost over the past four months, then maybe, just maybe… I wouldn't be out of the game entirely. Maybe I could get the shield back.

Maybe.

Loki drove his spear through a Hound's gullet, black shadows bleeding all over his shoulders. He was beside me after a long moment, and carefully removing the Tesseract from its casing. He glanced at the injuries on my shoulder and sighed in relief.

It's working, he said, too breathless to speak aloud, and too overjoyed at the fact that he could just speak like this with someone and have them hear it, after all this time, that he wouldn't have wanted to, anyway.

I nodded once. The injuries that I'd gleaned over the past few months had already become more numb than they had been. Not that the absence of pain could wipe out the memory of the look in Fraye's eyes as she caused it…

But one thing at a time. The world was in chaos right now; I couldn't afford to add any more to it. With great care and caution, and a respect in his eyes that was he always reserved for very powerful magic, he placed the Tesseract in my hands.

I'd never actually touched the thing before, but the instant I did… the world sharpened. I inhaled sharply, gasping, as a shock ran throughout my whole body, like an electric charge. I closed my eyes tightly and gritted my teeth against the almost-pain. The bleeding in my arm stopped, though the wounds did not heal. The shadows still lurked beneath the surface of my skin. But the glow grew brighter, more vibrant, more alive. I felt the ash and smoke inside of my lungs clear, felt my entire body reasserting itself. I could see better, hear better, and my head wasn't spinning so badly anymore.

I felt the blue energy crackle through me, and saw, through Loki's eyes, that my own eyes had turned blue. We both hoped at the same time that this would be a temporary thing.

Loki reached forwards and plucked the Tesseract out of my hand with long, thin fingers, turning momentarily to strike at a creeping tendril of shadow that was moving towards us, slithering in our direction. Magic flowed out from his fingertips and shattered the darkness before he turned back to me. With a careful wave of his hand, he banished the Tesseract, and its casing, to someplace far away. Someplace safe. Where Fraye wouldn't get her hands on it (not that she needed it). It was useless to us at the moment, anyway.

"Can you stand?" He asked, getting to his feet and extending his hands.

"Better," I answered, flicking my hands out at my sides. I felt energy explode out from my skin, forming in a spherical shape around me. I wrapped it tighter to myself, my second skin. My shield. "I can fight."

He nodded once, and his mind pressed tightly against mine; I tore down any walls between us, tore down everything that stood between me and him, and the two of us merged minds again, flowing together, no longer holding ourselves back from what our link so desperately wanted us to do.

I can't begin to tell you how perfect it was. How flawless I felt, after months of being cracked and chipped and damaged. As our minds flooded and there became no difference between Natalie and Loki, between Loki and Natalie, as there became only us, we realized that this was how we would die. That we were going to die here, perhaps, but one way or another we were going to die as the same person, going to die as one.

And you know what?

We were okay with that.

We charged into the battle only seconds later. Loki's body was already tired from his earlier fighting, and Natalie's was no longer responding as we were used to. But it was still responding better than we'd expected; after four months of lost training, her muscles still fell into line, still obeyed, her body still reacting in every split second as it was trained to.

The world descended ever further into madness. Watching the war unfold had been chaos. Actually fighting that war… was pure hysteria. We feinted and struck, we dodged and weaved, we blocked and threw attacks with all of the ferocity we could both muster. There was pure anger inside of us, the separate furies of fire and ice, glaciers and lava, melding into one power beyond belief. A slow ire that had been building for years, building against this woman, who had taken Loki prisoner and cut him to pieces. An immediate ire that was burning itself-and everything else- to the ground, directed at this creature who had torn Natalie apart.

And a fury composed of both of these things, centered around three powerful thoughts. Three thoughts that consumed us both, turned hearts to ice and ash, turned us into the greatest of monsters:

She branded me.

She broke me away from the person I love.

And I will kill her for it.

And together, with murder in our eyes, we charged into the fray.

---

Clint rolled beneath a shadow blade, sending an arrow towards Fraye's heart that was blocked by a wraith of darkness. A Giant stood beside him, covering his back, as Clint made his way towards Natasha once more.

"You know," he panted, pulling a quiver of arrows off of the ground and slinging it over his shoulder. He tried not to look at the face of the Asgardian archer who was lying atop of it. "I actually see what you mean."

Natasha wiped blood out of her eyes and cut the throat of a shadow-shade that had attempted to form into a humanoid shape. It did absolutely nothing; the shade reformed, and Natasha was forced to slash it into a thousand pieces before she could catch her breath long enough to ask, "What do you mean?"

Clint knocked an arrow and sent it streaking towards a Hound's eye. A crow took a dive to intercept it, and he cursed. "Budapest!" he answered Natasha in a shout, giving her a wild grin.

She blinked, then laughed once, more startled than amused. A screeching, writhing shadow blade stabbed at her, and she skipped back two steps before ducking down beneath it, dodging away and turning back to slash it in two. Moments later, her back was pressed up against Clint's. "I was getting more of a New Orleans vibe, to be honest!" She shouted over the chaotic roar of violence that streamed around them both. Clint fired an arrow to assist an Asgardian nearby, who was busy grappling with a swarm of shade that was trying to overwhelm him. The arrow passed through harmlessly as the shadows dissolved momentarily into pure, empty shade.

Natasha looked up to where Fraye was still hovering over the battle. She and Thor were locked in a death match, with Stark covering the Asgardian Prince from the side. She looked up to the Hounds. "We need more people in the air!"

"Most likely!" Barton answered in a grunt. A Shadow Crow-one of the bloated, twisted mutations that some of them had grown into- landed nearby, driving its sharp, glittering beak down towards Steve. The Captain raised his shield just in time, rolling to the side of the creature and circling it, turning round it and launching himself onto its back. "Looks like the Cap's got the right idea, though!" Clint added. "Three o'clock!"

Natasha turned to the indicated direction to see what Clint had. Steve was settled between the animal's wings, and it was beating them frantically, trying to get him off; he reached forwards and, with a strength that no normal human could manage, gripped the thing by its neck and started squeezing. Something very obviously snapped, and the bird, partway into the air, began its plummet back to the ground.

Natasha pulled two blades out from her boots, small and useful-she knew from experience- for flying creatures in directions that they did not wish to be flown. Steve launched himself off of the once-crow and landed on the spine of a Hound; moments later, he was working to bring that down as well. "Think I should make a go?" Natasha asked Clint, sizing up the crows, trying to determine which one would best get her into the air.

Clint considered, then cried out a warning; Natasha and he both ducked at the same time as a Humanoid Shade charged at him; its arm flew directly over both of their heads, and Clint pulled a knife from Natasha's boot, one of the longer ones, slicing it first across legs, then knees, then thighs, waist, chest and throat. The shadow disappeared into harmless shade and passed through them both, leaving the taste of ash behind in their mouths. Clint spat on the ground and handed the knife back to Natasha whilst answering her question with: "You've flown weirder."

She wasn't certain about that; the Chitauri had been one thing. These shadows were another. She heard a roar beside her and tried to tune it out; the Hulk had found something new to rip into shreds.

"Watch my back," she told Clint and headed towards a crow. Clint's hand shot out, catching her arm.

"Nat…" he paused long enough to cut down one of the smaller crows, then pulled her just a step closer so that she avoided the swing of a Hound's claws. A Frost Giant stepped in to intercept it, driving a sword deep inside of the creature, running under it and slashing open its underbelly. Clint looked to Natasha, panting with exhaustion, the light of battle still powerful and strong in his eyes. "I'm only gonna say this because I'm pretty sure Loki might have already let it slip," he paused long enough to snarl out a curse and fire an arrow before turning back to her. "And because we're probably going to die soon, so it doesn't matter if we're partners or not…"

Natasha lunged across him, pushing him behind her, taking a blow on her injured arm and crying out in pain before firing a bullet into the wraith's would-be-brain. "Say it quick, Barton, or I won't have time to say it, too!"

He looked at her as she turned back around to face him, then shrugged. "Ah, screw words."

Pulling back and firing one more arrow, he took Natasha's hand again and, firmly, with a great deal of urgency, jammed his lips against hers. Pulling back swiftly, taking Natasha's gun with him so that he could fire out a bullet towards a Humanoid, he nodded once at her, handed the gun back, and turned away.

Natasha swallowed tightly as Barton started running towards the remains of my prison, undoubtedly aiming to get to higher ground. She turned away, then raced towards a body that lay on the ground; a giant with two knives in its belt. She pulled both out and twirled them around once in her hands to test the weight.

Standing above the giant, she shook her head and muttered, "Always making the different call."

And then she turned and started hunting for crows.

---

"Thor!" Stark shouted across the roar of wind and shadow-gusts around him. Fraye flung a sharp shadow towards the Iron Man, and a wall of black flame towards the Thunderer. "I need all the electricity you can fire at me, and I need it now!"

Thor spared only a second to give him a dubious look. "That would be most-" he was cut off as, grunting with effort, he slammed Mjolnir directly into the beak of what was once a Shadow Crow; and was now a twisted mutation. "Unwise, Man of Ir-"

"Just do it!" Stark shouted, glancing in a panicked way towards the low energy warning flashing on the inside of his helmet.

Thor gave him a far-be-it-from-me-if-you-want-to-commit-suicide look, but the clouds above the world began to darken; he held the hammer high into the air, and lightning struck; it shattered and splintered and fractured the sky, then shocked towards Tony, striking him in throat and heart and head.

Stark pushed himself against the sheer raw force of the crackling energy, fought against the burn that seared into his joints as parts of the metal melted beneath the sheer heat… but as expected, and as it had been before, JARVIS' voice triumphantly announced a moment later, "Power at Four Hundred Percent, sir."

"Ah, I know you can do better than that!" Stark mocked, but he was back into the fight, so that Thor could likely not even hear him. Repulsors firing, cutting thick patterns of light across the sky, he tried to strike Fraye…

But something else interceded.

It was hard to tell what direction the Hulk came from. Regardless of how extremely high in the air they were, the green monster seemed to just… drop from someplace higher. He slammed into Fraye, who did not have time to dodge as Thor struck from one side and Stark from the other, the repulsors and the lightning exploding and twisting together in a brilliant, blinding display of light.

The Hulk roared from somewhere deep inside of his chest, driving Fraye into the ground and raising his fists back, again and again, to pound into the small, thin, petite form.

The shadows swarmed around the Hulk as Fraye threw him off of her with one roll of a black wave. He righted himself quickly, growling at her. There was probably not a lot on the Monster's mind at the moment, but it was clear that he'd put two and two together. This girl had made him bleed. This girl had made him helpless. This girl had turned him back into puny Banner, when no one could do that but the Hulk himself.

His fists slammed into the ground once again, causing a few Asgardians, a Giant or two, and Steve to all back away from around him quickly.

Fraye snarled a sugar-snarl and threw herself towards the thing that was once Bruce Banner. She danced out of the way of each of his blows, slipping and sliding and swirling around him in the form of a wraith, almost a shadow herself, cutting across his skin over and over again in an effort to draw yet more blood. She was slippery, behind him one moment, at his side the next…

The Hulk's hand suddenly gripped her ankle, throwing her to the ground. Again. Again. He pulled his fist back to throw it into her face…

She slipped out from underneath him, cutting shadows across his hands, and retreated up to the air, hovering a few feet above him. Just as he tried to jump up for her, the shadows tangled around his feet and held him bound, swarming all around him, holding him down, strapping him to the earth…

The Hulk struggled and strained, roaring, as the blackness swallowed him whole.

That was when Mjolnir struck Fraye's spine.

She whirled, momentarily breathless, and turned on Thor. Throwing her hands back, she gathered the shadows around them before throwing them forwards again, darkness streaming out of her fingertips and flinging towards Thor.

From the ground, a shaft of light burst up, brilliant, bright, bedazzling. Loki and Avalon, side by side, were feeding magic into the light, and it dispersed the darkness, made it dissolve. They strained and fought to keep it alive as Fraye, giggling at the attempt, poured more darkness into the light…

Light and Dark struggled and danced, interlocking in a battle of its own, until Light finally gave and Avalon fell to her knees. Loki, beside her, swayed on his feet. Fraye snickered and drew her hands back for the kill…

And Stark suddenly rammed into her. The two were interlocked in a war again as Sigil raced to his twin's side, helping Avalon to her feet. She was alive; pale, and weakened, perhaps, but alive. Loki leaned against his spear for support, but the hatred in his eyes was more powerful than ever.

He threw himself back into a war with a Hound.

---

It was a battle as had never been fought by the two species before; and at the very least, not side by side in the way that they were.

Kiross and Odin struck at the shadows on all sides. Gleaming, brilliant magic, powerful and deadly, shot from Odin's scepter to cut the shadows in half as others were crushed to nothingness under his control. Kiross, though he had never thought to fight beside an Asgardian King, now found himself defending the man's life as though it were his own.

Ice spread out from his fingertips, a crude mace in one hand whilst the other poisoned the shadows with frost. The two were almost an army in and of themselves, and though the soldiers of their planets were dying in this hopeless war, the two Kings fought beside each other, grim-faced.

And though neither said as much aloud, either one would have been proud to die fighting beside the other. For you learn a great deal about a person while you fight together; but perhaps you learn even more when you have fought against each other as well.

The Frost Giant King and the Asgardian one both attacked a shadow Hound at once; Kiross froze the creature to its center as Odin shattered it with a blow from his scepter.

It was not long, however, that the two kings were separated by the chaos, the rage of war. As shadows exploded on all sides, cutting Kiross off from the rest of the battle, he brought his hand up and prepared himself, falling immediately into a defensive stance. The Shadows strengthened, grew darker…

And suddenly, a burst of light; Sigil and Avalon, the powerful twin mages, stepped forwards, into the shadows that had encaged their king. In both pairs of their red eyes shone a frenetic light; and in spite of the enormous, twisted smiles on their faces, there was a very, very old hate in their eyes. An old hate created by the same thing that all hate is created by: scars.

Avalon ran one finger down the scar on her arm as Sigil ran his hand across the three on the back of his neck. The shadows closed behind them.

Kiross nodded to them, acknowledging their presence. "Avalon, Sigil!" he shouted. "We must stop this at its source! Can you get to the air, strike Fraye at her heart?"

The twins did not respond. Avalon stretched her hand back, strengthening the walls of shadow between herself, her twin, Kiross, and the rest of the world. Sigil reached a casual hand up, closing the shadows above them, so that they were lost inside of a dome of darkness. Avalon flared a light; enough for them all to see.

Kiross looked to them both. "What are you doing?" He demanded. "We must stop Fraye."

Sigil smiled blissfully. He was tasting blood, seeing it everywhere. His sister, too, shared this bloodlust; their thoughts, their rage, buzzed between the two, a shared hate that was only strengthened by the telepathic bond between them.

All those years, Sigil thought. All those years of being beaten.

All of those years of struggling to survive, Avalon chimed in. As one, the twins stepped forwards towards their king.

Trying to prove ourselves worthy of life, simply because of our stature…

Simply because we were smaller than every other giant…

As one, the two thought together, while we were always the most powerful. While we held true power in our grasp, power that no one else could ever understand…

There will be no more 'Giants' on Jotunheim's throne.

Shadow blades flickered to life in each hand as Avalon and Sigil gave their King the most terrible of smiles, blue blood coating their teeth.

"We're sorry, your majesty," Avalon said in a cool, light voice.

"It means nothing," Sigil added. "You have been good to us; as good as a 'Giant' can be…"

"We bear no ill will to you," Avalon chimed in quickly.

"But you've held the throne for far too long now." Sigil finished in a tone darker than the shadows around him.

As one, the twins chimed, "And it's time for true power to take the crown once again."

And then Avalon snuffed the light in her hand, plunging all three into darkness.

With two stabs of Shadow Knives and the howling of rage, pain, and betrayal, a King fell.

The darkness vanished. Sigil and Avalon, silent as ghosts, slipped back into the battle, fading away into the melee. Before long, the ash of the world, and the black blood of the shadows, had wiped the blue off of their hands.

---

Loki and I were still merged, still fighting like the world itself was crumbling. Which, in a way, I suppose it was.

That was when Natalie's eyes clapped onto someone she recognized. And through her, someone we recognized.

It was an Asgardian soldier. And old, grizzled veteran, one whom she'd suspected had fought alongside of Odin back in the days when Asgard and Jotunheim first went to war. He'd once told Natalie that she was not allowed to enter Odin's Throne Room, when she'd been furious about Odin not visiting Loki while he was injured. She'd seen him around and waved to him on occasion when she was visiting Loki, back before this started, back before he'd been released.

She didn't know his name, but she knew his face… even as she saw it on the ground, lifeless, staring up at… nothing.

The abrupt stab of pain separated us just briefly, and I cried out, before Loki gently coaxed me back into the link and the two of us fought again, turning that grief into ever more rage. It was not the first body that we saw-not even close- but it was the only one that even one of us even temporarily mourned during this battle. Following that time, our hearts were hardened into stone, (as magma and ice will always create) and we were fighting for vengeance. We had seen so many terrible things, through both pairs of our eyes, that we were suddenly numb to the other horrible things that skated past our vision.

That Jotun, over there… the one with the shadow lance through his head (of which that weapon had disappeared) he was one of those involved in that little scuffle that I'd broken up when I was on Jotunheim. Iecera… she was fighting with more courage than half of the other Jotun warriors, keening vengeance for her son against this woman, taking down shadows even without the advantage of sight. It was Loki's eyes that saw the Shadow Hound cut her down. And Shale, the Asgardian Healer who had tended to Loki's wounds since he was a child, and then again when I had arrived in his life… there she was, staring into space on the ground. It was Natalie's eyes that caught sight of her, but not even that broke through our wave of hatred. It only made it larger, brighter, only fueled it more, so that we were pure beings of vengeance. Natalie's skin was aglow with it, as was Loki's, as we fought with hands and feet and spears and swords, magic and force fields… Natalie swept the knife off of a lifeless Jotun and flung it towards a Hound with Loki's accuracy, combined with her own. It whined sharply and pulled away from its current target; Odin. The Asgardian King turned just briefly to see the two of us, side by side, warriors of pure rage that were making an impression even on this army of other warriors. We cut down everything in our path that thought to call itself 'darkness' that thought itself a 'shadow', and we kept ourselves as close to Fraye as we could manage.

We saw Natasha, taking to the skies on a bulbous crow's back, steering it clumsily, until Fraye dissolved it into shadow. Loki's eyes glowed with green-blue power as his hand extended; pale blue wafts of energy slowed her fall, brought her back to the ground; and she rolled back up to her feet. Barton was firing arrows from the top of Natalie's old ruined prison, the quivers of whatever dead he could have found sitting next to him for when he ran out. Odin had cut the Hulk loose, and now he was rampaging, getting his own form of revenge.

Steve was fighting side by side with a giant, close to the body of Kiross, the once-King of Jotunheim. Shadow wounds were driven deep into his heart; there could be no saving him now. Steve and the living Jotun moved in an immediate battle pattern, falling into step as only old Soldiers can.

The grey-eyed healer, the younger one that Natalie had once been jealous of (and we both now knew the reason) and I had reason to believe had been Shale's apprentice, was fighting with silent tears streaking down her cheeks as she ran towards the wounded: more specifically, towards Kiross' advisor, who was on the ground.

Thor and Stark were still fighting Fraye above, the only two who could fight hands-on with that… that abomination. The arc reactor in Stark's chest exploded with light as lightning crackled across the skies and cut holes in hissing shadows. Somewhere nearby, Avalon and Sigil were making attempt to strike the Shadow Child down out of the skies with contorted beams of light. But none of this, none of our battles with the shadows, none of our strikes against Fraye, was going to help anything if we didn't stop her. If we didn't kill her, once and for all.

Together, we retreated, falling back to consider and assess a new strategy. Loki spread ice across a layer of shadows as Natalie shattered them, sending her shield straight through them.

We considered all variables at once, our minds working together, as they were always meant to. Because this is what we were always meant to be. Since this all first started, this was who we were. And now we were unified in the flow of our shared pain and hate and fury, and we had both been stripped down to our barest cores by the past few months and turned into the monsters were really were at heart… but monsters who knew on which side they stood. Monsters fighting another, far greater one, than ourselves.

We glanced around, trying to find a way to get to higher ground, trying to see some hidden advantage that we had missed in all of the chaos. Stopping our thoughts only when a shadow struck at Loki's heart, we cut it to pieces before looking to the skies.

If we can just get her on the ground…

But then what? Even with this army surrounding her, she had an immortal army of her own; a truly immortal one, so long as she lived. These shadows didn't die; they were never alive to begin with. They only broke apart and gathered together to fight again. And Fraye would only return to the air again, fight in the air again…

We broke away from the battle just long enough to watch Sigil send a wave of light up into the air; it died moments later.

What could be strong enough to kill a shadow, if not the light?

And in that moment, we remembered Iecera's words, remembered what had happened to Fraye's world, the world on which we now stood. It was a plague, or a war, or some twisted melding between the two; for the plague took control of their shadow abilities from them, and forced them to fight against each other, forced them to kill each other…

What is strong enough to kill a shadow?

Only a shadow.

But no one could beat Fraye at her own game, no one could match her in this skill. Even the most dangerous of mages here, even the most powerful among Asgardian or Jotun, could not hope to tame the Shadows as she did, could not hope to control them, for they at once loved and feared her, and they followed her every command, for she was their Master and their Nightmare…

But we were stronger than Fraye in one respect. An idea struck; but only struck me, pulling us apart briefly as I bit my lip and tried not to think of the memory I had pushed aside. Our telepathy was not strong enough to fight her when we were alone; but together, when we agreed on something… nothing could stop us.

But you are not a telepath by nature, Loki reminded me, bringing his blue-glowing spear down across a smaller crow and cutting it up to slice a humanoid shape in half. We could… defend ourselves against her, perhaps, but her mental shielding would be… nigh impenetrable. An attack would grant us nothing.

I swallowed. Even if I was in her head before?

He looked to me. I didn't look back, pushing aside the pain that had come with our abrupt-if-temporary-half-separation. He was still in my mind and I was still in his, but breaking apart even halfway, after we'd been merged so completely, was a difficult and somewhat painful process. I lunged out with my shield, sharpening it into a fine razor blade; it sliced a Hound in half, and it burst into shadow, into blackness. Warily, I pulled a memory to the front of my mind, so that he could see it. It was a memory I had not wished to show him, and certainly not yet, not when these moments may have been our last.

Loki's hands clenched. His heart, already stone, became harder still, his grip on his spear tightening.

It had only been a temporary thing. Such a brief moment, but Fraye had done it more than once; the worst, cruelest form of torture that I could imagine.

She had truly shown me what it was to be her.

It hadn't been such a difficult task. With Loki out of my head, my mental defenses were weak. I was weak. And it had been only too easy for Fraye to slip her own mind into the cracks that he'd left behind, her thoughts dancing among mine…

The pain she felt, at all times, and the absolute absence of pain, the bleak numbness and the sheer agony… It was greater than even my pain at losing Loki, or his at losing me… for it was the absence of a thousand singing voices, a million whispers and laughs and a million songs from a far-away world… and she had known them all so personally, so intimately… she had known their every thought and feeling and she'd had them ripped out of her head once and for all…

It was an agony that would have killed me, if she had only stayed in my head longer. It was an agony that would have killed any other lesser creature. And it was everything that composed Fraye.

Loki began to tremble again. Even with all of the blood on him, even cut up and bruised and damaged as we both were, he was still running on adrenaline, running on hatred. But now he was quivering all over again, and it was far worse than it had been.

She did that to you? He demanded in a deathly soft whisper. Without even looking towards the shadow wraith that came towards him, he dispatched it coldly, blue magic curling down the spear tip and frying the shadow where it stood.

I winced. It was bad enough that I had my own hatred and pain for this. Yes, I said quickly, but that's not the point. Loki, if she was in my head, if I was in hers, then can't you… can't you use that?

He was already nodding. If we can get her closer. I knew magic didn't have distance limits, but he added quickly, if she feels us in her mind from a far distance, she may try and use her army to dispatch us. It will be easier if she tries to do so herself.

I nodded back and concentrated on that old problem, ducking beneath a Shadow Hound's claws and keeping it distracted while Loki sent energy lashing across a mutated Crow, using the energy to pull the creature closer; its beak drove straight through the Hounds ribs, and the shadows merged into one, becoming larger; which would have been a problem, but Loki drove his spear deep into its heart and sent blue fire pulsing throughout its entirety. As he did so, I caught sight of the answer to our problems and grinned.

"Be back soon," I promised, ducking and weaving my way through sword and shadow, staff and shade, as well as a few arrows. I made my way over to the Hulk, who was busy… well, smashing.

"Hey, Big Green!" I shouted.

He turned. I saw shadows in his teeth, slipping away between his clenched fingers. I only dared do this with the indestructible shield in play; if I had been by my little lonesome human self, I'd have high-tailed it long ago.

I pointed a finger into the sky, towards Fraye. "We need her on the ground," I told him, my eyes hard. "Can you do that?"

The Hulk stared at me. Advanced a few steps, large and loping and dangerous. He looked me in the eye.

And then he pushed me back, a massive smile on his face. I'd never seen a smile like that, but it was hilarious as hell. I grinned back, a dangerous gesture, and The Hulk took to the air, leaping upwards, towards Fraye. It was impressive, and somehow entirely lacking grace. For good measure, I called up, "SHE JUST INSULTED YOUR MOM, TOO!"

Loki questioned my decision of weapon while I fought my way back to him, my heart set and my eyes grim. I didn't answer him, but pressed my thoughts against his; immediately, he allowed our barriers to fall apart, and, moments later, we were the same person again. That was when he understood: the Hulk had gotten her out of the air once already. If it ain't broke, don't fix it.

As it turned out, it took the Hulk gripping both legs and Thor slamming his hammer into her stomach to get Fraye back onto the ground again. She collided with the ashen world beneath her, leaving a crater, and stood, spitting black blood. The Jotuns stayed well back, despite this being our opportunity. The Asgardians, incredibly, seemed to do the same; though Odin, Sif, Hogan, Sigil, Avalon, and another Jotun whose name I didn't know all stepped forwards and tried to fight their way towards the Shadow Child.

Fraye threw her hands to the ground; walls of shadow, tipped with fire, rose up on all sides… save for the one that faced Loki and I.

We stepped forwards, into the tunnel of shadow, as she smiled wickedly at us. She laughed; and the tunnel closed on all sides, lit only by my glow and the blue-green washes of magic that occasionally skittered across Loki's skin.

Fraye laughed again. It was the laugh of someone who had completely lost it; she stumbled forwards, towards us, her feet swaying and placing themselves in odd positions, as though she were drunk. Her laughter grew louder and louder and louder still.

We braced ourselves, our fight ready at hand. Our minds swirled and danced around each other, our barriers against the world stronger than they ever had been, stronger than they had ever been, even before our separation. There was no more division at our core. There were no more titles of 'enemies' between us. There was nothing to separate us, not anymore.

Fraye stumbled within a few feet of us… and then fell to her knees. She wrapped her arms around her waist, trying to regain her breath, trying to suck in air, laughing without end. She giggled and guffawed and snorted and snickered and she did not move from the ground, clutching her ribs tightly, lips dribbling blood.

"This is your plan?!" She demanded in a hysterical shriek. She tilted her head back so far that it seemed she may fall as she giggled her girly giggles and shook her head. "You think you can kill me?! I've tried! I've tried for so long now!"

Loki stepped forwards. These words were all his, but we were still both saying them. "And that's why you're going to lose, Fraye," he told her in a whisper. He leaned over, close to her face. He no longer feared being in such proximity with her. Neither of us did. The hate had taken the fear.

He smiled at her. It was the smile of a dead man from long ago, as were the words on his lips. "Because you lack conviction."

Fraye looked up at him. For a second, her eyes… her eyes were filled with tears.

And then she smiled. And she laughed again, laughed as the tears poured down her face.

She brought up her hands, and the shadows came crashing down all around us.

Loki immediately brought up his hand, halting the shadows; but his telepathy was reaching out, stretching out and brushing against her mind, following the pathways that were through my head… our heads, now, following the path she had made and going through the doors that she had created.

The instant we were inside of her head, it was… fire. There were walls of black fire everywhere, and we were fighting with them, we were straining and struggling against them…

And as the shadows protected us from the rest of the armies outside, a new war began.

Our heads were screaming as we threw ourselves at Fraye, as we tore at the mental barriers she held. The shadows swirled around our real-life bodies, forcing us to fight them as well, forcing us to fight a dual battle. We dodged and weaved in tandem, aiding each other when necessary, falling into step with ease. We were in control of two bodies but we were one mind, and that mind was attacking Fraye with a ferocity previously unknown to us.

Fraye fought back, of course. And she was still laughing as the shadows lashed across us, as they crept in through the gaps of Natalie's shield and tried to cut across her skin… we ignored these wounds as best we could and set the shadows alight with her glow, sent them back, hissing, temporarily wounded… and then the shield closed and the gap was cut off… for now. It could not remain that way for long.

To touch Fraye's mind was to court chaos itself; her thoughts were wild, untouched, rife with madness and hysteria. The pain… the pain was everywhere; pain from her trying to force us out, pain from the images that she sent flashing into our minds- images of each other, mostly, and of those we loved, all damaged or killed or otherwise painted into portraits of misery- and her pain, the pain of losing a species. The pain of losing your home. The pain of losing your life and somehow, somehow, still living…

We could not fight back, not with images, not with memories of a bygone age, memories of people she used to love. We could not fight back with emotions and feelings; she could feel nothing anymore. There was nothing left for her to feel. Fraye had been scorched on the inside, scoured out, and she was naught more than a shell, a skin filled with shadows, a puppet that made a desperate imitation of life, when in truth, it was dancing along strings of chaos. And we were fighting that. We were at war with pure chaos.

I had known mental wars to last for hours. I'd fought a mental war that lasted hours. But this… this was a new experience entirely. Each second was multiplied exponentially, the pain making our minds stretch into eternity, and we were carving paths into her mind and she was carving gouges out of ours, and our thoughts clashed with more deadly force than sword and shield combined, than magic or steel, than bullet or explosion. We were fighting with our every breath and our rage was fueling us as we took ever closer steps towards her, as we tried to force the numb emptiness inside of her into something else…

And when that proved futile, as we had known it would, we began searching. Searching inside of her mind for that which controlled everything. For that which made her so powerful.

We were hunting for her abilities.

We were searching for that part of her mind which controlled the shadows around us.

And it was those shadows that we had to fight as we battled inside of Fraye's mind, that we had to dance around. Natalie's body ducked beneath one while Loki's cut one down. We ducked and weaved inside of this tunnel of darkness, barely lit by our respective magical lights, by the light of our own fury. We were seeing blood and tasting it as we scanned through Fraye's mind, as we battled our way through the numb tissue and searched for that which she was protecting so fiercely…

"Why fight it, Fraye?" Natalie's voice, Natalie's body, but both of our words. There was no distinction, no separation. We could not afford it; we were fighting her, yes, but it was only possible if we were the same person, if our own barriers were… unbreakable. Not that she didn't try breaking them regardless. Pain washed through us both, sending sharp steel down our spines, iron spikes through our bones. Natalie collapsed to the ground, where the shadows struck, tried to choke the air around her. Loki arrived moments later, tearing the shadows apart. It was now his voice that spoke, though still both of our words. "You do not want this. You do not want to live. Why? Why do you still try so hard?"

"Why hope that it can ever change?" She shot back with a giggle, though it was through her teeth that she spoke. Inside of the darkness that Fraye had surrounded her in, Natalie's breathing was quiet and calm, her focus, our focus, solely on Fraye. On our final goal.

"Why hope, for even a second, that anything can kill me?" Fraye snickered, stumbling on her feet with more drunken steps. She held her hands out, an invitation. We were both more than inclined to accept that invitation. Blood still drizzled down Natalie's arm in the scars of Loki's name, and Loki's back still stung with the indignation of Fraye's. There was still a great deal of blood owed here. There was still a great deal of vengeance to be repaid.

We threw ourselves at Fraye's barriers; and we were surprised to feel something… give. Fraye gasped, stumbling back a step, a reflexive pull of air. The shadows around us dissipated. She looked up to us, and for a second, a brilliant light shone in her eyes… a hopeful light…

And then her eyes deadened again. She laughed again, laughed in her misery. Our heads were on fire, burning, as she tried to force us out, to scald us out of her mind… but we would not… we could not give in. The battle roared into life around us, with the armies of shadow and the Avengers and the Asgardians and the Jotuns, and here we were in the middle of it all.

And everything depended on the outcome of this battle.

Every last life on this planet… the fate of three worlds… it was all on our shoulders.

Pulling in a breath, breathing in shadows and breathing out chaos, we renewed our struggle once more.

---

Clint cursed as his third quiver ran out of arrows, tossing the empty one aside and picking up the last one from the ground beside him. He had to get back out into the proper fight; but this was where he worked best. From a distance.

His eyes scanned the battlefield, searching out any way he could assist his allies. An arrow flew in the direction of a Hound before he caught sight of Loki and I, fighting Fraye with our minds and dodging whatever very real shadows she threw in our direction…

Clint's eyes widened. "And what do you two think that you're doing without backup?"

His eyes scanned the battlefield again… he bit his lip carefully as he saw Thor and Odin, side by side, father and son fighting a war all their own. Those creepy Frost Giant mages who could only be twins were fighting close by. A plan started forming in Clint's head, and he knocked an arrow, pulling it back very carefully. He and the others didn't have their headsets; there was no other way to communicate.

Silently hoping that Thor shared his adopted brother's quick reflexes, Clint pulled the arrow back, aimed, and, before he could give himself time to reconsider, let it loose.

The arrow streaked across the battlefield, flying past shadows and streaking past allies. Clint followed its path, knowing that it was flying true, as it headed straight for Thor…

Mere seconds, half-seconds, before it would have struck the Asgardian, Thor's hand whipped up and caught it by the shaft. Clint exhaled a sigh of relief as he drove an arrow through the throat of a crow that had noted his position. Thor looked at the arrow, confused, and then to Clint, who waved him over with wild arms, knowing how difficult it would be to see across such a distance.

It took Thor a while to break away from his current battle and fly over to Barton, who was dispatching more Hounds when the Thunderer came back, arrow in hand. He passed it over to the archer. "In my experience, shooting one's ally is rarely a wise strategic maneuver," Thor said with a frown. "Though Loki may be the strategist, that seems fairly… obvious."

"Had to get your attention somehow, didn't I?" Clint snapped. He gestured towards where Loki and I were skipping back away from the shadows. "They look like they have a plan. Wanna help them bring it to completion?"

Thor looked wearily across the battlefield. Gripping his hammer tighter, he nodded. "Aye," he answered. Even he sounded… exhausted. This battle could not continue for long.

"I'll help out from here," the Hawk said as Thor whirled his hammer in circles, then took to the skies. Clint shared the Asgardian's weariness. But neither of them could give up. This was a war; and even if he was a spy, and not a soldier, he had to fight.

As Thor landed beside Loki and lightning banished a fair degree of shadows, Barton looked out at the battlefield once again. His eyes caught sight of a flash of red hair; immediately, an arrow fired into the throat of the human-esque shape she was grappling with. His heart pounded in his chest. No matter what it meant after this battle, no matter if it meant that he survived and everything had to go back to normal, and he and Natasha were partners again and they could be nothing more… he would fight.

He would fight so that he could be certain that everything would go back to 'normal'.

He would fight just in case…

Just in case it didn't.

Just in case things changed.

---

Steve and Sigil were fighting side by side; The Soldier and the mage were both exhausted by this point. Avalon had disappeared into the chaos of combat, though her twin could still feel her thoughts when he looked for them. He knew she was alive.

Sigil danced to the side of a shadow warrior, swiping its feet out from beneath him with the sweep of a sword. "Your left!" he called to Rogers. Steve dove downwards and brought his shield up into the jaw of the Hound, jamming the patriotic circle against the thing's nose. With deft movements, he lifted the Hound's head; and Sigil drove his sword through its throat.

For a brief second, and only a very brief one, there was a reprieve. Sigil leaned on his sword in an attempt to catch his breath, smirking wryly at the Captain. "Not your first battle then," the Jotun said, sucking in deep breaths.

"Not remotely," Steve answered. A crow drove towards his eyes; he brought his shield up to clang against its beak, sending it to the ground. He leaned on his knees, trying to catch his breath. He glanced around. "We've taken heavy losses," he noted. "We need a plan, some way to rally everyone to fight Fraye…"

Sigil gave Steve a look. His lower lip jutted just slightly. "Have some trust in your fellow teammate," he berated the captain with his usual mocking tone. "The Child of Frost has things well handled."

"Child of Frost?" Steve asked; the two were forced to duck beneath a wave of darkness, and Sigil spread ice throughout its heart as Steve shattered it. "You mean Natalie?"

"But of course!" Sigil said with a grin. "After all…"

He took a step closer to Steve, suddenly a few inches away, and making the Captain fairly uncomfortable. His smile was… odd, to say the least. "It occurs to me that some mortals are more clever than others," he noted. "And that a certain one may have hoped for these events long before others even considered it."

Sigil backed away quickly, leaving Steve to think over his words. Humming breathlessly for a moment, before launching himself back into the fight, the Jotun laughed to himself.

Things were finally coming together. And they were doing so in more, and better ways, than he or his sister could have dared to hope.

---

Natasha knew her arm was broken. She knew because it hurt like hell, and because she'd broken an arm or two before in her life. She wasn't overly worried about it, though it was causing a great deal of grief.

It was the cracked rib that was concerning her.

She wasn't certain that it was cracked, or if it was broken, or just badly bruised. But it hurt. It was screaming.

She pulled herself to the side of the battle, struggling to breathe as she hid beside the ruins that she knew Clint was perched on top of. It was not long before he was beside her, testing the injures swiftly. Not a word passed between them of what had happened earlier. Not a single expectation was placed on either of them.

"You're out of this one, Nat," Clint said, moving her aside and picking up her gun to fire into the heart of a shadow. It didn't do a great deal, but it made them both feel better. "You can't push past this."

"Don't have a choice," She answered, spitting blood onto the ground. Thankfully, that was just from a superficial cut. She was covered in those; as was her partner.

Stark landed beside them moments later, lifting his face plate and panting heavily. His armor was scratched and scuffed, the paint chipped in a thousand places. There was a cut on his nose, though it was a mystery how he'd gotten it while inside the suit. "We're getting slaughtered," he panted. "The armor's almost out of juice again; I don't know if it can take another lightning bolt from ol' Thunder-Head." He hunched over, trying to breathe. "What happened to you?" he asked of Natasha, as though only now noticing that she was hurt.

"Bad rib, broken arm," Clint answered swiftly, succinctly. "And Thor's pretty occupied at the moment, anyway. Wouldn't be much use as a portable charger."

Tony turned as Clint braced himself, firing a repulsor blast into the Hound that had been attempting to sneak up behind him. It still had blood on its teeth; red blood. An Asgardian, or an Avenger. All three of them felt horrible for hoping that it was the former, but that didn't stop them from hoping it nonetheless.

They stayed there for a while, then Clint inclined his head in the direction of a flock of the mutated animals that were once crows. "Odin was over there, last I checked. You might want to get a-"

"Any injured?" A voice asked quickly. All eyes turned to her; an Asgardian with grey eyes and a thousand small cuts on her face. She glanced around at them all, dismissing Stark and Clint instantly and heading towards Natasha. The three Avengers took a moment before they recognized her; one of the Healers.

She stepped up to Natasha and shook her head, muttering a curse that, in the days before Loki and I had temporarily joined the team, would have been foreign to them. The grey-eyed Healer flicked her fingers out and pressed a subtle aura of magic against Natasha's side. She shook her head quickly. "Best I can do." She sighed deeply. "There are people who are worse."

Natasha nodded quickly; the pain in her side had eased. She was up in moments. "Odin?" She asked Clint.

Barton studied her for a long moment. Then, resigned, he nodded. "You two should get moving. I'm gonna fetch some arrows and get back up there." He gestured to the ruins, and the three went their separate ways.

---

We didn't know how long we'd been fighting. We only knew that Thor was by our side, lightning crackling all around, when the world went black.

We were standing in the middle of a very dark place. There was no other word for it; it was empty and blank and lifeless, but above all, it was dark. We could see nothing past our own faces. Not even our hands, which we brought up half an inch away from our noses, showed through the gloom.

Nervous in such pitch-black darkness, we laced our hands together. We were supposed to be fighting, we knew, but we were encased in blackness, and quite honestly, there didn't seem to be anything to fight. Where was Fraye? Where was Thor, our brother? Where were the Avengers, the Jotuns, the Asgardians? We had to save them. We had to fight. We had to live because we had to survive for each other…

It was the boy in the blackness who finally told us why we were here. Who finally told us why we were meant to fight.

We didn't know how we could see him in the darkness, but we knew that he showed up as clear as day. His skin was very pale, but not ashen, and he had hair and eyes that were black as midnight. He looked, in truth, a great deal like Fraye. But a younger, male version of her. A version without all of the death inside of him that Fraye carried inside of her.

"Oh, thank universes," he breathed. "You can see me."

As we stared at him, he looked… cautious. "You… can see me… right?"

We nodded. He sighed in relief. "Please," he pleaded desperately. "Please, you have to end this. I'm begging you. This… this blood, it has to stop…"

We looked at him. We tried to open our mouths to speak, but no words could come out. Instead, they reverberated all around us, whispers of our thoughts, echoes of our minds.

Fraye?

He nodded fiercely. Our thoughts spoke for us again:

We're trying.

"I know," He said quickly. "That's why I'm here. You don't have to try anymore. I'll show you what you need to see." He glanced around and winced. "But we don't have much time."

Suspicious, we recoiled. But who are you?

He looked to us. His eyes turned to the half of us that bore Loki's face. Those black eyes of his were so very like Fraye's that it would have torn us between terror and poisonous fury just to look at them. But there was one difference, and that kept these emotions at bay; the boy's eyes, unlike Fraye's, were filled with emotion: grief. It was an ancient loss. It did not belong on the face of one so young.

He shrugged in an exhausted way. We were suddenly struck by how tired he seemed. This was a battle we had been fighting for hours, we realized, but this was a battle he had been fighting for millennia. We were certain of this, even before he told Loki, "I'm her April. I'm her Ghost."

The world trembled and shook around us. We were deep in the heart of a darkened mind and it was trying to drive us out. We felt pain lancing through our skulls and cried out as one, dying inside… the boy ran forwards. "There isn't much time!" he repeated. "We have to save her, please, we have to!"

Save her? We had tried. She was past saving. Surely this boy, who had been fighting this for so long, would know that.

But still we followed him. What choice was there? All we could do was stay in the darkness and be burned out by Fraye. And so we followed, we ran after him, we went deep into the heart of all this darkness and we found what he had wished to show us…

"It's here," he told us, a pronounced exhaustion on his face as he leaned against the darkness. He gestured to a patch of shadow that was warring with light. It was very faint and weak, the light; the shadow was overpowering it, swallowing it. There were tears on the little boy's face as he stepped up to it and reached his hand inside.

With careful fingers he pointed out the light. The world trembled and reverberated again, and there was a wordless, sugar-sweet shriek, one that rattled us to our core, for we had heard that cry before, yes, and that voice, but never that… whatever that was. Fury? No. There was not enough left in her for fury.

We reached forwards to the shadows, to stroke them, to sieze them, we were uncertain. The boy's hand wrapped around one of our wrists; Natalie's. The left.

He looked up at us, pleading. "I know what she did to you," he said. "And I am sorry. But it wasn't her fault. Please know that… the Fraye I knew… she would never have done this to you. She was…" His eyes filled with more tears. How young was this boy, this child? Younger than Fraye had been, when her world was destroyed. We were certain of it.

"She was a good person," he whispered quietly. He looked up at us, as though trying to make us understand. "She had her faults, but… never this. Never this monster inside." He shook his head. "Not until after we died. Not until after she killed me. She lost control over her shadows and it wasn't her fault and she still blames herself and she welcomes the blame and…" He looked down, squeezing tears out of his eyes… and slowly, he released our wrist.

"Please," he whispered. "Just end this. Just save her."

Another wordless shriek rattled the world. We exchanged glances with each half of ourselves and reached forwards, deep into the heart of that darkness.

In an instant, the world shattered into a thousand black mirror shards, so that we can see our faces reflecting in the blackness. The world warped as the shadows distorted and we could hear crying. Fraye crying.

"I'm sorry, sister!" The boy called out loud, dropping to his knees behind us as we were suddenly propelled forwards, into a darkened distance that slowly grew light… we still heard his voice crying as we emerged into the light and the land outside of this infected mind, still heard him as he shouted, "I'm sorry! But you would never have done it! And there can be no more blood!"

Outside of Fraye's mind, there were tears running down our faces as we saw the Shadow Child, looking at us in shock. Tears were on her cheeks, too. The ghost of a little boy stood beside her, his hand in hers.

"Sleep, sister," he whispered, crystalline tears sparkling beneath his eyes. "Please… just sleep."

It was only then that we saw the lance of shadow that pierced Fraye's body.

We stared at it, at her. Fraye stumbled forwards once, reaching towards us…

"It's not… It's not possible," she breathed.

And then the world shattered. The shadows fell apart and faded, falling into nothingness, a boiling black wave that drove itself beneath the ground. The army disintegrated, pooling across the ashen surface of her ruined world, and streaming towards her in endless torrents…

Those who were close to Fraye, who undoubtedly protected us from her physical blows whilst we were still so deep inside of her mind, immediately stepped back. Thor, a few Jotuns, an Asgardian soldier with an axe… they all fell back quickly, retreating away from Fraye as the darkness began to shoot up from the ground beneath her feet, beneath our feet. Only we did not move. Only we did not waver. Because, we realized, it was Loki and I who were holding her back, his hand raised and my shield contorted and stretched, and we suddenly realized that the force field had not only stretched around him, but that he was included inside of it, so that we could reach out and truly touch each other…

But we did not. For Loki's hold on the shadows was still strong, and our hold on Fraye's mind, on her control over them, was still holding back and there was nothing else we could do but fight her, and keep fighting, as she stumbled forwards towards us.

The shadows lanced up from the ground and stabbed through her again. And again. Black blood dribbled from her lips and poured from the new injuries as the very shadows that she controlled turned against her… the very shadows that composed her army now stabbing her in the back…

The shadow lances collapsed into nothingness as Loki released them. Fraye fell on her knees, then to all fours, as all eyes stared at us. We did not move. We simply stared.

Is it strange, that we felt no victory? That we could only watch as this pathetic creature, this abomination that we both once became, bled out onto the ashes of her home world?

It was both of our intents, but it was Natalie who knelt. She reached out to Fraye as the Shadow Child's hand grasped for something, for anything, to hold. Natalie's hand slipped into Fraye's. Her scars bled red onto Fraye's arms.

Fraye looked up at her with wide black eyes… and for the first time, so close to death, they were alive. Tears were on her cheeks but she was smiling, but it was not that manic grin, it was not that sickly-sweet, syrupy smirk. It was a pained, lost, child's grin.

She reached up and gripped Natalie by the collar of the shirt, pulling her down. And once Natalie was close enough that she could whisper into her ear, she said, "C-Conviction, huh…?"

She laughed, choking on blood, and rasped out, "And after everything I did…" She coughed, running her fingers across the writing in Natalie's skin. We knew she was referring to the tortures she inflicted, and as one we recoiled just slightly. She went on, "You still do me… the ultimate… favor." She laughed again, quietly. "Th-Thank you…"

Her hand fell limp. Her eyes glossed over. For a while, we could still see her chest moving, could still see her breathing. And then… nothing.

Natalie stood and turned to Loki. And together, we silently slipped out of each other's minds. Our link still remained, but we became less… merged. Settling back into our old patterns.

I stood, brushing ash off of my knees as everyone stared at us. I all but fell over, and Loki quickly supported me. It was only then that we realized how weak we both felt, but I forced myself to stand, and met as many eyes as I could in that crowd.

And then, in as loud a voice as I could manage, I announced. "It's over."

For a moment, no one moved. No one breathed. I leaned against Loki and he held me upright. I was still bleeding. I'd taken a lot of pretty heavy damage.

And then the shout went up. The cry of celebration. As Fraye Burns' lifeless body bled black into the ashes of what was once a race, once a world, the entire world around us exploded into cheers of jubilation. There was laughter everywhere, as Jotun and Asgardian alike burst into shouts of joy. They were alive. They were alive and they would live another day…

I don't know who started the cheer. Only that it became louder and louder the longer Loki and I stayed where we were. It started so low that we didn't even notice it for a while, that we just stared at the lifeless body of our shared tormentor, torturer and would-be executioner. But it kept building. It grew, louder and louder, until half of the battlefield was chanting.

"Shadowslayers! Shadowslayers! Shadowslayers!"

Loki wrapped his arms around me as the world descended back into chaos. A glorious chaos now, jubilant, as the warriors fell out of formation and peered at their foe, none of them seeming to see us and what we were doing. Loki held me close, but I held him closer, wrapping my arms around him so tightly I wondered if I could ever let him go.

"We did it, Frost," he said, and his words were numb.

"Yeah, we did," I answered, and so were mine.

A hand fell on my shoulder. Mine, now, not Loki's or 'ours'. Mine. I turned to face its owner: Steve. Thor was close by, Natasha and Clint pushing their way through the now-much-thinner-without-the-shadows-but-still-pretty-thick crowd. The Hulk, far away, seemed confused by the shouts of happiness and seemed to be wandering off. Stark landed beside us moments later. As the Avengers all gathered together, only they seemed to recognize the truth: that I had just killed someone. A sentient being. The last of her race.

Loki and I were the cause of the extinction of an entire species.

"Shadowslayers! Shadowslayers! Shadowslayers!"

It was Steve who spoke first. "You did the right thing," he promised. "Even by her. It was the only thing you could have done." He squeezed my shoulder tightly. I couldn't feel it. My shield was still wrapped around my body; I let it flicker and die from around me and Loki as Steve went on, "And… you saw what she was like. It was probably the kindest thing you could have done for her."

I nodded slowly, swallowing. Loki knew what I was going to say next and wrapped his arms around me again, embracing me from behind. "That's the thing, Steve," I said. Even I was surprised by the age in my voice, the ache, and the ice. "I didn't do it to be kind."

My eyes went up and met every Avenger's gaze in turn. "I did it because of what she did to me." I glanced back to Loki over my shoulder and gripped his hand tightly enough to bruise. "To us."

The announcement did not seem to come as a surprise to anyone. There was an old understanding in their eyes, as well as a silent grief, a mourning for the person I once was. For they had all been here.

They wouldn't be who they were if they hadn't.

Steve sighed heavily. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I know."

He started to walk past the pair of us. But before he did so, as he started to pass us, in a sad, slow voice, he said, "Welcome to the team, Natalie."

I swallowed. The team. Yeah. I would've killed for this, in the old days.

Funny, how that was really all I had to do, in the end.

And then Steve clapped Loki on the back. "You too." He added swiftly, then started walking away. No one protested. In fact, Natasha and Clint both stepped up to us to give us the same reassuring pats on the shoulder or back.

"Welcome to the freak show," Tony muttered as he walked by, his attempt at humor falling flat. Thor embraced me quickly, clasped his brother's hand, and walked on.

I looked to my other half. He looked down at me. There was a question in both of our gazes, one that we asked each other without asking, for we both knew that neither of us had the answers.

What now?

After a long time, I swallowed. Holding the scars on the inside of my forearm tightly, I said, "Loki?"

He raised an eyebrow, not moving his eyes away from mine. I started trembling, fighting back tears. "Can we go home now?"

"Shadowslayers! Shadowslayers! Shadowslayers!"

---

A/N: A shorter chapter this time, because THIS WHOLE CHAPTER WAS A FIGHT SCENE. DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT WAS TO WRITE? ARGH. *headdesk*

Annnnddd... Clintasha. Clintasha everywhere.

Honestly, I like Brutasha, but I wrote this like way before AoU came out and Clintasha was my ship so... yeah.

Besides, it's an AU, I can do what I want. :P

(Also, two other songs that fit super well: I Bet My Life and I'm So Sorry both by Imagine Dragons okay bye)