A/N: Fairly graphic stuff here. Please be aware. (on the side of gore, not sexual content. Yet.)
Time is the longest distance between two places
Time…
He had none.
He had to find her…now.
It might already be too late…
"Fandral! Search the alleys surrounding…I'll check around here and make my way out," Loki was shaking violently. He was certain that she was dead. The killer was quick. "Alert whomever you can…"
And he ran to the adjoining yard behind the Ten Bells…nothing.
She's not dead…
…the street just beyond. Nothing.
She's not dead…
…the alley across the way. Nothing.
She's not dead…
…a closed up factory…"Jane! Hello!" Loki's voice echoed in the vast yawn of steel. Nothing.
He was too late…
Too late.
He stood there a moment…he felt ill. He was going to be sick…yes…and he turned to the corner where he stood, naked and helpless, and spilled the ale over the corner from his bowels.
Naked, because his distress was evident enough in his manner…
He slowly stood upright…and the tears formed.
He never told her. Never knew her own heart…
He began to walk, bringing his eyes to the night sky above him. She loved the sky, but she never had the opportunity to really see it, for London's air was too thick, its lights too bright.
How odd that this night, he could see the stars without much obstruction.
It might not be. She might not be dead…with newfound resolve he hunched his shoulders and ran anew…
His feet pounded the pavement, and he thought with rapid-fire speed how he should proceed…
The killer had likely abandoned Liz Stride's body when he heard noise…
"Jane!" he screamed.
The killer was likely poor…always killed in the open…
"Jane!" his voice echoed.
Alone…lonely places in the dark…away from people…
He needed more help.
There was a group just there, at the end of the road.
"The killer! He has a woman! Help me find her!" he stopped. "Help me, please. Her name is Jane," Loki grabbed a man's arm.
"What's dis?"
"The ripper…I think he has my…" he paused. He wasn't certain that she had been taken by the killer. Best not to take chances. "…friend," he breathed. "Please…split into pairs…you must help me…"
They looked at one another, hesitated, then nodded. Loki relaxed a touch after frantically looking at them all.
"What's 'er name again?"
"Jane. Her name is Jane," Loki nodded, letting go.
"Loki!" came Fandral's voice.
He whipped around after the group dispersed, calling for Jane.
And the clerk approached him, shaking his head, looking pale.
Loki swallowed, ran his hand through his hair.
"The police know, Loki. I saw Selvig. He's in a state."
"As he should be," Loki replied. He looked around him, feeling rooted, yet desperate to move. "I need to think clearly…"
The night began to fill with people calling Jane's name.
"Come with me…" he said to Fandral. "This isn't his mode of operation," Loki began, his reason taking command. "Jane wasn't soliciting…and it's much earlier in the night than he ordinarily works."
"Is it possible that he doesn't have her?" Fandral whispered.
"It is…but we are working with the assumption that he has," Loki continued. "Now…there was absolutely no sound…not uncommon. He might, then, since it is earlier, alter the way he behaves given these differences in both who Jane is and the time of night."
"I'm so sorry, Loki," he swallowed.
"I cannot think about that now, Fandral."
"No…."
"Now, he works in the street normally…perhaps we should be looking inside buildings…"
"Loki!" Selvig's voice came out, he was running in their direction.
Loki sighed and went to him."Selvig…"
"What happened?" he stopped in front of them.
"Jane is missing," Loki supplied. "She went to the outhouse at the Ten Bells…that's the last she was seen."
"How long ago?" he was frantic.
"Mm…" Loki looked at Fandral. "Ten minutes ago…?"
Selvig's face fell. "Good god," and he began to run.
"Check buildings, Selvig!" Loki called.
Loki swallowed. He must keep his head…he had his slight breakdown, and that wasn't going to keep Jane alive. Because she was alive.
She had to be…
And for a blink of time, he closed his eyes, and felt her next to him on the settee, close, warm…safe.
He had promised her safety. Ensured it.
He would not break this promise…if she was in danger, he would find her…He opened his eyes. "Fandral…let's begin to search the buildings in the immediate area."
"Loki…you can tell me to piss off. I know how…"
He turned to him angrily. "Standing here, dwelling on the situation, it won't do a fucking thing. She is in danger, and I made a promise to her and Dr. Foster that I would ensure her safety. And now, you are going to help me keep that promise. Now, let's begin over here…" he pointed to a particular factory. "And we will work together so that I'm not searching for your sorry arse in an hour."
Fandral nodded. He was responsible for this mess…he was. And now Jane…
He followed Loki into the soot-covered factory and breathed deeply.
…and the two started their search for Jane Foster.
She was cold.
That was her first thought…
Cold, and…ouch…her head hurt. She began to move her head to one side.
"I wouldn't move too much if I were you," came a raspy voice.
She froze…and what had happened to her began filling her clouded thoughts…
…she had been at the Ten Bells.
…she had to use the outhouse.
…she had heard voices.
…everything went black.
The killer.
Her eyes flew open and she attempted to sit up.
"Oh no, deary. Don't do that."
She heard movement. He was moving closer to her.
She couldn't see anything, it was pitch. There was a slice of light fairly far away from her…it appeared to be near the floor.
She was inside…or else immediately outside of a building.
"I thought that it was you, that night in the alley. They thought you were doing the killing. What a laugh."
She was panicking…he was going to kill her.
"And all the while, the Yard couldn't catch me, but you, a little woman, an apothecary…and your beau…came the closest. Poor Miss Mary…"
She was going to pass out.
There was something around her mouth, her feet were tied, her hands…she couldn't move. She began to hyperventilate.
"Now now, Miss. Don't make yourself sick. It'll be over right quick…"
And then, in the distance, she heard her name. She didn't recognize the voice, but it was coming nearer.
"What the…?" and she heard him move, heard something being opened…"Fuck."
And then he came over, closer to her…
…she would never see her father again…
His breath was heavy, and she heard something metal scrape a surface.
…never see Loki…never be able to tell him…and she would die a virgin. There was a hint of regret in that fact, but her sadness was more that she never faced her feelings for him…
And the voice drew nearer. "Jane!"
"Fucking fools," he said. "Well…no matter," he muttered. "I can come back for you. It's not like you can get anywhere. And right now, I've got other more pressing matters…" and he left via a door at the back wall.
What just happened? Had he really just left her there?
And she was certain it was the killer…after the things that he had said.
Jane struggled to think about what she should do. She wasn't in her right mind, she had sustained a head injury. She tried to play with the bindings around her wrists, but they were tight, and at her back, so her attempts were fruitless.
She couldn't just wait for him to come back and kill her.
She tried to move, not really knowing which way was best…and she landed on her stomach.
This wasn't good.
Her cheek was pressed against a cold floor…it didn't feel like cobblestone…she must be inside.
That was a deviation from the killer's habit.
She sighed. She was drooling on the floor, her mouth slightly open from the gag…
…and she couldn't hear her name being called any longer.
She tried to move again, and she rolled back onto her back…her hands crushed by her weight.
Jane's mind drifted a moment…Loki…if she got out of this, she would tell him.
She would tell him that she loved him. Funny how it took a situation wherein she very well might die to say it to herself.
But she did…and she ached with it.
How foolish she was! She didn't fault herself for not realizing it, but once she did, she certainly should have told him. Damn the murders and everything else. She should have told him.
Instead, she wasted precious time muddling about, being embarrassed, being upset, overthinking…
Time.
She needed to make herself use it better.
And she set to do just that.
They had been walking, yelling, for nearly two hours, but Loki seemingly had lost no resolve.
"Loki…perhaps we should reconsider what we are doing here. Perhaps we should think about where Jane might have gone…"
"Thank you, Fandral. Your opinion is most welcome."
The search team had scoured all of the streets in the vicinity, to no avail.
"What about her father?"
"What about Dr. Foster?"
"Perhaps he should know. Or perhaps she went home…?"
Loki stopped an looked at him. "By all means, Fandral. Go to her house. I am staying out until I find her."
"But if she's at home…"
"Then you may come and tell me," he knew that she wasn't. Jane wouldn't simply leave the Ten Bells and go home without saying anything.
"I'm going. This is a massive waste…"
Loki grabbed his arm, twisted it, and dragged him over to an alley. "Don't you dare say I'm wasting my time," he breathed. "Don't suggest it, even for a moment…"
"Loki…you're hurting…"
"She could be dead…and I allowed it. She could be a mangled corpse even as we speak, and I allowed it. She could have died, alone, without knowledge of…" he swallowed, dropped Fandral's arm. "…and it is my fault. I'll not rest until she is found."
He nodded. "It's my fault, Loki. I should have…"
"You're damn right you should have. But I cannot blame you. I was responsible for Jane. You were concerned about Mary. And that's that," he turned and left the alley.
Fandral didn't respond. "Where does she live?"
And after Loki gave him the address, he nodded and left him there. Loki shoved his hands in his pockets.
"Loki!" he heard Selvig's voice.
He turned and saw the detective approaching him, shaking his head. "Nothing. It gives one pause…as in, perhaps she is all right. Ordinarily, the body was found not far from where the victim was last spotted."
"But where is she Selvig? She has disappeared, utterly."
"I don't know, Loki," he shook his head. "I simply don't know…"
And Loki turned and head hanging, began to walk once more.
Jane had disappeared at eight at night.
It was now going on ten…
…and he would continue until he was either too exhausted to move or dead himself.
He wrapped his coat closer, and walked some more.
"Loki…"
"What is it, dearest?"
"Have I ever told you how much you mean to me?"
"Tell me again…"
And she sat next to him on the fainting couch of the shop, and pulled him close to whisper in his ear. "You are the only thing that matters to me, you are my everything…' she kissed his neck softly.
"Let's move to the countryside, Jane. I'm tired of London's scents."
"Whatever you like, Loki."
She wanted to move to the country. She wanted clean air. She wanted Loki. She wanted to tell him that she loved him…
And she wondered when and if the killer would be back…
She was on her side now, and considered her options. Jane sat up and leaned against the wall, trying to discover a sharp stone, or brick, or something. She inched her way along, trying to feel with her exposed hands (quite cold, nearly numb), if there was anything she could cut the bindings with.
There were more shouts she was able to discern in the distance…but they seemed further away still. They were moving away from her.
She felt close to tears, but wouldn't give way, and she continued to grasp and inch along the wall.
It was brick, which was a blessing…stone would have much more challenging.
In the pitch of her captivity, she couldn't see in front of her at all. Jane kept moving to her right, willing a sharp surface to present itself.
But as she moved, her leg hit some obstruction, and it came crashing down on her legs, pinning her lower body to the floor, smarting her knees painfully.
This was a bad stroke of luck, thought she, her head falling back, hitting the wall softly. And she sighed through her gag.
"I thought I told ye before…I ain't interested in servicin' ye. We 'ad dis talk before."
"Now, Mary…that was one time…"
"One time is a it takes," she returned.
"And what if I give ya this much…?"
She looked at his palm. "Ha! Well, now ye be talkin'! Let's…"
"You have a flat, no?"
"Ya…"
"And it's cold."
"All righ'…"
And she led him to her home.
He wasn't paying attention to where he was going. He had long lost track of time…was it midnight? Later?
He figured he should probably head to the Yard. See if Abberline was on the case.
He couldn't bear to see Dr. Foster.
Loki walked into the Yard, and took note of the time…Three forty five.
Good lord. Where had the night gone?
"Is Detective Abberline here?" he croaked to the man at the desk just inside the entry.
"'e's about lookin' fer a lady. Gone missin' some time ago," replied the clerk.
Loki nodded. Good sign. "I thank'ee," and he turned to leave.
"Yeh know 'er?"
"Pardon?"
"Da lady…'o's missin'?"
"Why?" he asked with a furrowed brow.
He laughed. "'cause it's four in da mornin' and ya look like de devil 'imself."
"I know her," and he walked out of the door, onto the street.
"Good luck ta ya!" Loki heard him yell.
He couldn't bother to respond.
She was dead.
And a wave of regret washed over him…he started walking once more, back towards the Market. He wondered if he'd ever be able to return to work. To think, just a five minute walk from Asgard, she was taken from him.
She was dead.
And he went inside of his shop.
How many times had she stood there, greeting him? How often had he longed to go to her, kiss her, tell her how he felt?
How he felt…
All that time, he had been burying it.
He found her mildly interesting.
He found her idly attractive.
She was his friend.
Whom he found attractive.
And now…
"I love you, Jane Foster," he said to the shop as he sat on the chair she would sit in. "And I'm so sorry that I failed you," he buried his face in his hands and wept.
She must have fallen asleep, no doubt from the shock and pain she was in.
She had barely moved since the thing…whatever it was…had come crashing down on her. And though it hurt, she thought that once more she had escaped any broken bones. That was a mercy…but how…how was she to get out from the pin of the obstruction…?
And what if the killer returned? Where was he?
She shouldn't think about that…concentrate on getting out. She'd be dead if he returned whether she had attempted to escape or not.
So she began wriggling free of the impediment. Her legs hurt, but the thing wasn't heavy enough to do real damage.
And as she pulled her legs free, her skirt tore on a splinter of wood, tearing her skin along with it.
She cried out…but then she stopped.
It was wood, and it had broken, causing splintered wood…she could cut her bindings on the wood!
With abandon at her realization, she stole her legs from the furniture, and turned her back to it, so that her bound wrists were against the splintered wood. She began to saw at the bindings…her hands cutting and bleeding from the action…
Jane ignored the intense pain of the movement, trying to concentrate only on the desired result.
After what seemed like hours…after she had broke into a sweat…she felt the bindings begin to give and loosen.
This encouraged her, and she moved faster.
Jane was laying on her side, bleeding and broken, but nearly free.
…and before long, she felt them give, and then snap.
Her hands were free…
She cried.
And she took her trembling hands and began to pull at the gag. It took but a few minutes.
She laughed.
Jane reached to her ankles and slowly undid the bindings on her ankles.
She was free!
She laughed and cried.
And Jane stood on wobbly legs, and pain surged through her. Maybe she did have a broken bone.
She put weight on her right leg…it was ok…
Left…ouch. She nearly fell over.
Blast it, Jane. You might have broken something.
Her left hand groped at the air until it found the wall, and she held it, moving toward it, and she leaned.
Her breath was heavy. She needed to calm herself…if he came back, she would need to try and fight.
Jane looked around in the blackness…who was she fooling. She couldn't see a thing.
But she wouldn't be undone by some darkness. Not when she was on the precipice of freedom. She would best this bastard even if it did kill her.
Jane edged her left foot around the immediate vicinity of her position…keeping her weight on her right …she felt around in the darkness…
…and she kicked a piece of wood.
All right. Pick it up. You can use it for either a weapon or a cane.
Jane slowly squatted down and lifted the wood…it felt like a table leg. And it was splintered at the end, so it could be used as a weapon.
What a stroke of luck!
She smiled, swallowed, tasted blood…it was the first time she was cognizant of that fact…so either she hadn't noticed, hadn't swallowed until now, or she was beginning to bleed internally. She seriously doubted the latter…
Good thing she had at least a rudimentary understanding of anatomy and medicine.
All right. She gathered herself, and leaning on the table leg, took a step.
Pain.
Just get through it…
Another step.
More pain…
She swallowed. And with resolve, moved toward that slight, slight chink of light on the floor opposite where she had been tied.
She felt around the wall, and lo! a door handle. She smiled and felt the relief wash over her.
Jane opened the door…
…and was blinded.
The bells chiming from London proper announced the hour in Spitalfields. Ten thirty, Loki counted.
He had slept a very little, but was so devastated that he couldn't bear to leave. He had no idea where Fandral was, nor did he care much. He should have opened an hour ago, but it was the Lord Mayor's Day, a holiday, and he figured no one would care if he didn't open that day.
Or indeed, ever again.
He was slumped on the floor…leaning against the counter. The light illuminated the dust filling the close air space in the shop.
Was he breathing? He did not know.
It didn't matter much if he was or wasn't. Everything that he cared about was gone…
His head lolled to one side and he blinked.
He was thirsty.
Loki got up from the floor and went to the back water barrel for some drink.
Mayhap he'd go to his home and dip into his whiskey. He thought that yes. That was called for.
His shirt was mostly unbuttoned. His hair disheveled. His beard growing ever so slightly in. He looked at himself in the glass…he barely recognized himself.
And Loki finished his water, and started to leave the shop…locked the door.
He walked out into the Square.
It was a bright, sunny day…
Jane squinted against the sunlight, shielding her eyes.
As she adjusted, she took in her surroundings.
It appeared to be an abandoned building…and she was about a floor up from the ground. She looked for a sign of anyone, anything, but nothing was about.
Jane hobbled to the stairway, and slowly made her descent down the stairs, gingerly walking…her leg smarting…
She soon decided that it wasn't broken, however. She was able to allow some weight on it as she crept downstairs.
Would he be back…? It appeared to be day…midmorning, even.
Jane thought that she would need to get outside and out of the place if she had a chance to escape him. What detained him? Why was she left alive? Was he dead, perhaps?
She walked out onto the cobblestone street…and realized that she was a good way from Spitalfields.
Did the killer carry her there? She looked up at the abandoned building…did he live here?
Jane thought it best to keep moving, so she began to walk…
And thought that a holiday could not have come at a worse time. No one was about to help her.
Loki had not made it far when he heard the screaming.
It came from the direction of Dorset Street, just around the bend from the Market proper.
And he paled. He felt ill.
But he had to know.
So he turned in the direction of the screams, and walked toward Dorset Street…
"Don' go der! It's awful!"
"I can' believe it!"
"Never saw such a sight in me life!"
"O'd do dat ter the poor lady?"
He was quite literally shaking with anguish. He made his way through the crowd. "Pardon me, excuse me, please let me through," he was saying.
"Der he be! I saw 'im wit 'er las' night!" came a man's voice.
Loki looked and saw a man pointing at him.
He closed his eyes.
His breath came quick…"Jane…" he whispered, and opening his eyes, began to force his way through the throng.
People were different…there was a different air about the place. "I need to see…" he repeated. "Excuse me please…" He saw the officers there, and made his way to them. "Pardon me. There was another murder?" he said, trying to keep his composure.
"There was, sir. But ya don't want to see it…it's the most horrific thing…"
"I need to…she was my…"
"Mary!" came a screech. "Mary Mary Mary!"
Loki craned his neck to see where the scream was coming from.
Fandral. He was making his way toward the scene.
Loki looked around. Yes…this was where he took Mary last evening.
"No no no no no…" and he saw Fandral disappear…and then a bloodcurdling shriek from inside.
"Fandral!" yelled Loki.
"Best leave him be, Loki," Selvig said next to him.
"What happened?"
"Mary Kelly…it's like nothing I've ever seen. Worst thing I've ever…"
Loki's eyes were open wide. "Mary Kelly? She was murdered?"
"That's not even half of it, Loki. She was positively ripped apart and mutilated."
Loki felt faint. "But…where is…?"
Jane was walking back toward the Market. She thought that it was odd that no one was looking for her anymore. Perhaps she should head home…
…no…she should see if she could find Loki first. Then, if he wasn't about, head home. Tell her father to alert Scotland Yard.
She hobbled along, only about another ten minutes from the Market center. She wondered if it would take her an hour.
"Jane Foster? We haven't found her," Selvig said.
"But…if Mary was…what did you say?"
"Positively mutilated. Half of her face was cut away. Her intestines on the bed, her breasts cut off and placed around her," he was leading Loki away from the mass. "…pieces of her skin on the bedside table. Loki, I've never seen such horror in my life…"
"Poor Fandral," his mouth was dry…no, devoid of fluid. "But…" he couldn't understand it. Unless he had killed two women. That wasn't unprecedented.
Or…perhaps…"Could she be alive?" he breathed.
"I suppose…" Selvig shrugged. "There are a few officers still looking."
Loki thought that he should feel worse, considering. But he, at that moment, could not feel anything but a flicker of hope. Until and unless Jane was found, he would continue to hope, and feel sick over Mary later.
Jane was in the Market, and was surprised to see it as deserted as it was. Yes, it was technically a holiday, but even on holiday's, there were some people about.
Just her luck to be injured and escape imminent death the day everyone decided to vacate the place.
It was then that she heard the cries…
…not of distress, but of sadness.
She leaned on her table leg, and with a furrowed brow, began to limp toward the noise.
Loki was speaking with Erik Selvig. They were walking away from the scene of the murder, for though Loki had mentioned perhaps staying behind for Fandral, Selvig said he'd be taken to headquarters and he wouldn't be able to speak much, anyway.
He acquiesced, anxious to start looking for Jane once more.
"Though you were likely one of the last people to see Mary alive, Loki."
"That's true," he replied.
"However, given the circumstances, I think I can bother you for a statement later on," Selvig smiled.
But Loki wasn't looking…
…there was a figure, not far down the road, limping, coming toward them.
And it looked remarkably like…
"Jane," he breathed.
"What's that?" and Selvig turned to look at what Loki was staring at. "Bless my soul."
Loki pushed passed him…"Jane!" he yelled.
And then she saw him. And she started to laugh…and tears streamed down her face. "Loki," she said, to herself really.
Loki broke into a run…he couldn't believe it…she was alive…
Jane wasn't as quick, her injuries limiting her…
…but when he reached her, he picked her up and spun her around…
"Good god Jane Foster," he said, holding her close. "I thought…"
"Loki…I was terrified I'd never see you again…" she said into his shoulder.
The sun was dripping into the scene, and people had gathered round…the apothecary had been discovered, at least.
"Kiss 'er!" someone yelled.
Loki laughed and set her down…he cupped her face. "You're hurt."
"I can't feel a thing," she replied. "I'm sorry Loki…sorry I was too daft to see…"
"Jane, what are you talking about?"
"I love you," she whispered.
His face fell…his heart soared…his hands shook…
…and he leaned down and claimed her mouth in his…
…and on that morning, in the midst of blood and horror, the inhabitants of Whitechapel, through their tears, clapped their hands on Dorset Street.
For even in the middle of horror and darkness, some love was found.
And it was beautiful.