Chapter Six: Kill Box
They had been on the road for a long time now. Well, not terribly long, but Loki was getting impatient. He knew full well how unusual it was for Thor not to jump at a chance for action. He should be here by now, Loki observed, swaying when the transport rounded another subtle turn. Then again, perhaps old habits... Loki shook the thought from his head and went back to the task at hand. He had been carefully keeping track of every alteration of course and speed just as Fandral had trained him to do in his youth. Not that it would help nearly as much in this realm, as Loki was still unfamiliar with most of Earth's geography.
I've been here before. Although I imagine that the landscape has changed since my last visit, Charles reminded him, trying to keep his host focused.
How long ago?
1962.
Loki considered that for a moment. Considering their fleeting lifespans, Charles, I'm certain that half a century is quite some time in a world populated by mortals.
Humans.
I beg your pardon?
They're called humans. At least people like Jane are. Mutants are a persecuted subspecies, and many of them may take offense if you mistake one for the other. I doubt that anyone will be pleased with being called 'mortals' all the time.
They are all mortals. It's merely a descriptive term- Loki defended, and heard Charles sigh. The consciousness radiated the impression of a teacher handling an especially stubborn pupil. If he'd had a body, Loki was fairly certain that he'd be pinching the bridge of his nose.
You're missing the point, and you shouldn't be.
Loki couldn't help but glare, affronted, in response to Charles' uncharacteristic terseness. The guard sitting in the back of the armored vehicle with him gave him a funny look and adjusted his hold on his weapon.
You're cleverer than that, Charles elaborated. There is no reason for you to be willfully ignorant, especially not in our situation.
Then for your sake, I will try to bare in mind these humans' delicate sensibilities, Loki stated coolly.
Thank you. Frankly, it's for your sake as well. All of that overtly superior language isn't doing you any favors.
Ah yes, because my life would be all mead and Valkyries were it not for my scathing words.
No, Loki, don't be ridiculous. You'd just sound like less of a twat.
Loki stared at the opposite wall for a second, then let out a fleeting, but genuine chuckle. The soldier scowled at him, questioning his sanity. Why, Charles, you seem to be feeling rather grumpy at the moment. I wouldn't have expected such venom from you mere days ago.
I know, I'm sorry. That was uncalled for.
Don't apologize. I'm rather fond of it. Loki sobered when Charles seemed hesitant to respond, and changed topics. You can read these people if I get you close enough, yes?
It will be difficult in this state. I'll need you to make skin to skin contact.
Loki thought it over before replying, Consider it done.
Thor was growing more and more anxious as he paced back and forth across the hotel room. Selvig and Ian had already left nearly half an hour ago, and Darcy seemed to have fallen asleep on Jane's bed. Thor reached the foot of the bed and spun his hammer once in his grip, staring out the window.
"Thor," Jane tried for the umpteenth time. He didn't appear to have heard her this time either, simply turning around to walk away toward the far side of the room. Jane let out a sigh and dropped her chin onto the pillow she'd tugged out from under the pile of bags and equipment that Darcy had left on the other bed. Jane let Thor cover the length of the room again, then decided that she might as well give it one more try.
"Thor!"
Thor stopped at the foot of the bed, but he wasn't toying with Mjölnir's handle or staring vacantly out the window anymore. He froze for a moment instead. His gaze dropped to the floor.
"I know that it's hard for you having to wait like this, but you're making the right decision waiting for the others," Jane reassured him. "Loki would probably agree with us; this is the safest way to get him back."
Thor was already shaking his head but he didn't argue outright.
"I know it isn't what you're used to back on Asgard..." Jane trailed off at the sound of Thor's unexpected, bitter-sounding chuckle. Or at least it was almost one. It sounded like it might have been a chuckle in a past life, but the joy had gotten lost along the way.
"That is the trouble of it," Thor corrected, staring glumly out at the dimming sky before him. "This, is exactly what I am accustomed to. Loki was always running off when we were younger. I swore that I would look after him, but Loki was so quick, and far too curious for his own good. He would slip away with no thought of the danger. Sometimes we found him before he came to harm, but others..." Thor looked away, shuffling uncomfortably at some dark memory. "He was captured from under my watch three times. It didn't matter that he was just a child the first time. Nor that the dwarves who'd snatched him from our camp the third time that he was taken saw fit to sew his lips shut before they returned him to us. Father always said the same thing: 'Be still my son. Patience is the mark of a true leader.' He thought it best that we keep one prince safe while he bargained with our enemies over the price of the other's life. My father is known for his great wisdom; I never questioned it."
Jane watched in silence while Thor returned Mjölnir to its place on his belt and sat on the foot of the bed beside her. She had the feeling that the punchline to this one was going to be pretty dark.
"Then I was captured during a battle with some marauders," Thor recalled. "They knew that they couldn't keep me for long. I was a son of Odin, and a warrior of Asgard. I thought that they might sell me off before my father could reach an agreement. I was freed the next morning. A squad of warriors had been ordered to raid their encampment." Thor let out a brief but genuine laugh at the memory. "I woke up and there was Loki, leaning on the other side of the bars with that smirk on his face, and the jailer's keyring dangling off the end of his finger."
"What did you do then?" Darcy asked, sitting up to look at them. She had blinked awake part-way through the story and was now shamelessly listening in.
"I demanded to know what in the Nine he thought he was doing there," Thor stated as if it were obvious. "He was still barely past his first century, and was no trained warrior! He just smiled at me and said 'I think that I am breaking a very stupid rule to save a very foolish prince'."
"Your dad must've been pissed," Darcy noted once she had recovered from the 'first century' remark, which both women thought was worth further investigation.
"It was never mentioned," Thor admitted, missing his friends' discomfort. "When we returned home, Father acted as though it had never happened. I thought it strange, and even mentioned it to a couple of our friends, but they seemed to think nothing of it." Thor looked like he was about to add something else, but stopped at the sound of a knock on the door. A suited up Tony Stark let himself into their suite without bothering to wait for an invitation, with his Iron Man helmet tucked under his left arm.
"Hello campers! Wow. You look glum. I missed something, didn't I?" he observed, coming to a stop in front of Thor and Jane. The Cap and Agent Romanoff entered behind him more quietly. For some reason, Steve paused just inside the room to hold the door open long after the others passed.
"My brother has been kidnapped," Thor reminded Tony in a humorless tone.
"Yeah-" Tony stopped short of whatever unwise remark he'd been about to make in a rare show of self-reflection. "So! What's the plan?" he asked instead, turning toward the doorway just in time to see Agent Maxwell wiz into the room. Steve closed the door behind him without batting an eyelash, already having grown accustomed to the mutant's abilities.
"That is still the coolest thing that I've ever seen," Darcy announced, holding a hand up for a high five. Peter eyed it, but didn't indulge her invitation.
"Thank you."
"Oookay then. I've got your brother's tracking signal streaming to the HUD right now. It looks like they're headed towards a private airfield a few miles north of h-" Tony's lips thinned when Thor immediately stood and pushed past him towards the door. "...here," Tony finished, his dark eyes pointedly locking onto Natasha.
"Thor," the assassin prompted, halting Thor in the doorway. "Are you certain that we should be doing this?" She didn't look back at him. Only turned her head to the right to watch him through her peripheral vision.
"I understand your hesitation. You have no reason to trust that Loki will not turn against you... aside from my word," Thor stated solemnly. "I have already waited too long to find him, so if you cannot join me I would ask that, as my friends, you do not stand in my way." Then he left. The four Avengers in the room regarded each other in tense silence. Steve was the first to move, turning away from the group to follow after Thor. The two SHIELD agents looked to Tony. He let out a sigh and put on his helmet, heading for the half-open window.
"God damn it," he muttered in resignation, pushing the window the rest of the way open so that he could jump out and activate his jets. He bobbed back into view to point accusingly at Jane. "You guys owe me!" Iron Man's tinny voice concluded, and he sped up into the sky without bothering to elaborate.
Loki looked up from his unblinking scrutiny of the metal flooring when the vehicle came to a halt. The soldier seated across from him got up and retrieved a set of heavy duty chains and shackles out of the footlocker that he'd been sitting on. Loki eyed his new bindings unenthusiastically, but cooperated nonetheless.
You can still escape those if the need arises? Charles verified within the displeased Trickster's mind.
You wouldn't like it, Loki rebutted. His wrists and ankles were shackled – twice over in the case of his arms. His forearms were now sporting their own personalized bindings. Even so, the soldier took hold of his machine gun as soon as he was finished, and aimed it at Loki's face. Three more SHIELD operatives were opening up the back of the armored vehicle now. Loki just raised an eyebrow at the overcautious soldier, plastering a fake smile on his face, and shifted his gaze to the three men below. Fake or not, his smile vanished at the sight before him. All thoughts of a sarcastic or scathing remark flew out the window once he had seen the newcomers, back-lit by the setting sun. The two on either side of the opening were covered from head to toe in combat gear just like Loki's escort, but the man in the center was a whole different story.
Green eyes met blue and Loki distantly noted that the other man was just as shocked to see him there. That couldn't be right, though. Not if this was, indeed, a legitimate operation.
"What the fuck is this?" Clint Barton asked in a tightly-controlled voice. His facial expression had just become blank enough to rival the Black Widow's poker-face.
"Volatile cargo," a gruff, southern-accented voice sneered from somewhere out of Loki's line of sight.
Hawkeye turned his head to face the speaker and a muscle in his jaw twitched.
"You got a problem with marching orders, Agent, you take it up with someone who gives a shit," the older man remarked as a SHIELD hovercraft landed behind them. "In the meantime, get the lead out and get this thing." A weathered hand waved into view, to point at Loki. "On the transport before we lose the light."
Agent Barton watched him for another second, then turned his laser-sharp gaze on Loki, as if this was all his fault. "Yes, Sir," he ground out and took hold of Loki's chains, not allowing him the proper time to react before he dragged him out of the cab. Loki nearly-stumbled out into the open, almost tripping and landing face first on the tarmac. Clint paused to run a more discerning gaze over the injured alien, narrowing his eyes.
"I would explain, Agent Barton, but I cannot help doubting that you would believe a word that I said," Loki informed him in a slightly self-deprecating manner.
Clint huffed and shook his head in disdain. "Keep moving," he ordered, and tugged on the chains.
Loki inclined his head, allowing the shorter man to lead him towards their waiting transport. A suited agent, who Loki had not seen before, hopped out of the hover when they were halfway across the tarmac, and Loki made sure to feign dizziness and stumble into him as they passed.
"Ah. No. Don't even try it!" Clint warned when Loki caught himself on the other agent's bare wrist, leaning his forehead on the blond's shoulder as though he were about to feint. Hawkeye grabbed the collar of Loki's borrowed t shirt with his free hand and guided him away from the indignant blond.
You have to get out of here! Both of you! Charles exclaimed, relaying a rush of images and half-formed impressions that he had skimmed off of the assassin's mind. Loki went over his options while Agent Barton checked to make sure that he hadn't stolen a weapon. He was understandably surprised to learn that Loki hadn't lifted anything.
"Although you will not believe it, I am no threat to you nor to this realm," Loki whispered, taking advantage of the Avenger's closeness.
Clint pulled back to glare at him.
"These men, are not what they appear."
"Shut it," Clint countered, resuming their path towards the hover.
"I am called Liesmith for a reason, Agent Barton."
"Yeah, because you're a damned liar," Clint snapped.
"I am also quite adept at detecting deception," Loki persisted, slowing his pace as much as he could get away with.
Hawkeye glared more deeply at him being forced to lag by Loki's superior mass holding him back.
"Tell me if I'm incorrect, but I do not believe that you were apprised of this action. Does that not breach your group's protocols?"
Clint tried to ignore him, then gave up a moment later and answered, now matching Loki's quiet tone, "It isn't standard. ...but it isn't unheard of either."
"And considering our history..." Loki pointed out.
Hawkeye looked away then snapped his gaze back to Loki's face. "That isn't going to work. I know that you're full of shit."
The first rumble of thunder rolled through the dark clouds overhead. He looked up at the sound, his expression becoming pensive.
"I was kidnapped from my brother's care. These men opened fire on him and his friends. Civilians," Loki amended at Charles' subtle prompting. "Does that sound like acceptable behavior to you?"
"Shut up."
"This isn't an acquisition, Agent Barton. It's an assassination. The men waiting in that craft plan to kill us both." Another, rumble of thunder accompanied Loki's warning and the lightning that followed sent his monochromatic features into stark relief, highlighting the urgency in his eyes.
Hawkeye stubbornly averted his gaze.
"So be it," Loki muttered to himself and collapsed to lie motionless on the ground, three meters short of their would be killers.
"What the-" Clint began. His expression went flat as he recognized the tactic. Despite knowing that it would be pointless, he gave a couple of token attempts to drag his obstinate captive onward.
Loki didn't budge, other than his arms flopping about in response to Hawkeye's efforts.
"Ahhugh! I fucking hate you!" the assassin shouted, almost losing his balance after he threw his whole body into the last tug. It only moved Loki about a foot and a half. Clearly not worth the effort.
"Might as well grab your weapon now," Loki replied conversationally, making himself comfortable. Clint pulled his gun (in order to shoot Loki in the face with it) but fortunately, that was when the two imposters in the hover realized that they weren't coming and opened fire on him.
"Son of a-" Clint darted away from Loki, returning fire as found himself being shot at from both sides.
"I did try to warn you," Loki called after him, curling up in a protective ball with his chained arms shielding his head. Bullets from human machine guns weren't likely to wound him too much, unless they hit a soft spot—his eyes or throat for example- but they did sting like a motherfucker. After a long and incredibly uncomfortable five minutes while Clint and the assassins shot at each other, and Loki was hit by more bullets than he felt were justified, the airfield went silent.
Loki hesitantly lowered his arms and looked questioningly at Hawkeye squatting behind a shipping container.
He shrugged.
Loki slowly pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, trying to see into the hovercraft. The barrel of a very familiar energy weapon poked out of the opening. It was aimed right at his head.
Loki stumbled into a run, knowing that he couldn't get away in time. There was a whistle of heat and energy. Loki flinched, expecting to be struck down. Instead he felt someone land in crouch beside him, and heard the metallic clang of the blast being deflected by Captain America's shield. Loki did a double take, not quite believing that Earth's mightiest heroes were actually defending him. Then he jumped at the loud slam Thor made when he landed atop the hovercraft. To say that Thor looked angry would be like saying that Raven Xavier's appearance might appear a tad changeable.
"Are you hurt?" the Cap inquired.
"No more than I was before," Loki replied, suddenly embarrassed by how rough and creaky his voice still sounded.
"Captain?" Hawkeye called, making the title sound synonymous with 'are you crazy?'.
"Can you fight?" the Captain asked, ushering Loki over to join Clint.
"You're kidding, right?" the archer demanded.
"I cannot," Loki answered the Cap's earlier question, ignoring Clint's offence.
One of the men who'd been shooting at them hurtled past looking decidedly more broken. Loki winced in distaste.
"Thor looks to be having one of his tantrums," he advised, expecting to be ignored. "You may wish to stop him."
Iron Man landed between their position and Thor's destructive battle with the soldiers, and had to duck another flying casualty. This one at least, was still alive and screaming. "Holy sh- Uh, guys?" Tony questioned.
Captain America scrutinized the chaos then turned back to Clint. "Watch him. If he tries to bolt-"
"I will kill him," Clint concluded matter-of-factly, and Loki gave a little tilt of his head as if to say 'fair enough'.
The Cap hesitated but then stood and headed towards the battle. "Tony, you're with me. We need to get Thor under control."
"Fun," Tony remarked sarcastically, following after him. The man had a point. Thor was being pretty terrifying.
Loki watched in silence while the two humans battled their way through the mass of soldiers, trying to talk Thor down as they went. Loki could feel Clint's hateful gaze boring into his skull, but he had decided it was best not to acknowledge it. They had to get out of here alive first. Then, perhaps, he would face the mortal- human's ire. After all, Clint's grievances with him were all justified, and mostly valid. Loki figured that he probably deserved whatever punishment the man decided to inflict on him, but distracting him would get them both killed. As would engaging him.
So Loki kept his keen eyes on the battle before them, taking in every minute detail and filing it all away for later, just in case. Hopefully, Hawkeye would get the hint and do the same. Loki was an observer first, a Trickster second and, when pressed, a warrior last. Agent Barton on the other hand should be in his element in their current situation. Loki pushed all such thoughts from his mind. Something wasn't right with what he was seeing, but it was taking him too long to place it.
Something's missing... Charles agreed, and he could feel the consciousness mulling it over. They were both tired, sore and in Loki's case dangerously depleted. It wasn't so terrible of him not to notice. That didn't stop Loki from instantly berating himself for his novice slip once he'd worked it out. He may have used a few words in that moment that were too profane for the Alltongue to translate. Ones that would have gotten him a tongue lashing from his mother- or a smack on the head from Thor if he'd heard it.
Loki... Charles disapproved, still sounding more sympathetic than reproachful. Clint whipped his head around to look at the angry Trickster, shooting the last of the two soldiers he'd been fending off without looking.
"What was that?" he asked suspiciously. Cursing is almost a universal language, as Loki has learned in his travels between the realms. It was clear that although Clint didn't know the precise meaning of Loki's words, he understood Loki's outburst just fine.
"Two of our attackers are unaccounted for. One is armed with a weapon that I have never seen before," Loki explained, closing his eyes in order to concentrate.
"What? What kind of-"
"Quiet."
"Hey! You don't seem to get-" Clint began to argue, but again, Loki cut him off.
"I am trying to locate an obvious threat to our survival," Loki stated, his eyes opening to lock onto Clint's. "I cannot do so if you insist upon distracting me."
Clint stubbornly stared at him for a second, then shut his mouth with an audible click and returned his attention to the fight. The rage and aggression emanating from him was still distorting Loki's perception, but at least it was manageable. It only took a few seconds for Loki's empathic feelers to find the unfamiliar mass of cold, calculating malice creeping up behind them, and he almost grimaced at the feel of it. This man, and he was barely a man in Loki's opinion wasn't just an enemy soldier with his own loyalties. He was a predator. No, a killer. Predators hunt because they have to. Warriors fight to protect those to whom they are loyal. This man, in contrast, enjoyed inflicting pain. The cause that he supported was merely an excuse to fulfil this craving. Begrudgingly, Loki scented the air, more because he knew that he had too than because he wanted to smell the wretch. Hawkeye's attention returned to him, feeling more quizzical than distrustful this time.
"Did you just sniff at me?"
"Don't be ridiculous. I'm smelling him," Loki corrected. "Although, considering how close I am to you, that shouldn't be possible."
There was a beat of relative silence between them.
"Are you trying to say that I smell bad?"
Loki opened his eyes to regard the archer with a condescending look. "No. I am saying that you're human. If you must know. It is he, who smells repugnant," Loki corrected, straightening haughtily. "It isn't natural."
"Great. I get it. Can you just tell me where he's lurking?" Clint deadpanned "I promise I'll get rid of the nasty man and his bad cologne."
Loki squinted at him, ready to shoot back some no doubt scathing rejoinder, when he caught another scent. His eyes widened in the closest thing to shock that Clint had ever witnessed crossing the alien's features. Then he lunged forward, grabbing Clint in a sort of rolling-pounce, carrying them away from the shipping crates and out into the open.
As soon as they'd stopped rolling toward the line of fire, Clint began to try and wrestle Loki off of him, but the Trickster seemed insistent upon remaining on top of him. "God damn it! Get the fu-" The pile of crates errupted in a massive ball of white-hot flames. Clint coughed when Loki's heavier body nearly collapsed, pushing the air out of his lungs as a wave of searing heat rolled over them. The moment that the danger of shrapnel slicing into them vanished, Loki rolled aside onto his back and went still. Clint stared at the wreckage, realizing just how close he had come to being incinerated. It was enough of a shock that he almost didn't notice the soldier creeping up on him.
The lieutenant aimed his weapon.
Clint shot him once in each shoulder before he could pull the trigger. A second more and the sudden silence around them registered.
Most of the SHIELD operatives had been either subdued or were too keen on living to put up a fight, but that wasn't the main cause of the eerie stillness. Thor was no longer raging or even making the slightest sound. He had frozen like a lifelike statue, staring blankly down at Loki's still form on the blacktop beside Clint. Today must be a day for firsts then, because none of the Avengers present could remember ever seeing the thunderer look so somber, and they too had halted at the unnerving sight. Loki didn't react. Loki was very blue. Most of him was anyway. His green eyes stared, unfocused, out of a face half-shrouded by faintly-steaming, blue skin.
"Today was not his day, huh?" Clint reflected in a modulted voice that failed to be as quiet as he'd meant for it to be. He might not care for the blue and white bastard but he also didn't care to become a smear on the tarmac if Thor took offence.
"Is he..." Tony wondered, managing to sound genuinely concerned. This seemed to snap the blond demigod out of his trance, and he hastily dropped to his knees on Loki's other side.
"Loki?" he whispered, thouching Loki's neck, then grabbing his jaw and leaning in to listen for his breath. "Little brother..." Thor gasped out and pulled Loki closer, cradling him against his chest.
The Captain knelt down in front of him. They spoke in successfuly hushed tones for a minute, then Steve stood to face Tony.
"He needs immediate medical attention," Steve stopped short, at war with himself, then continued. "Not from SHIELD."
Tony pulled up his face plate, looked at Thor and Loki, then Clint, then returned his attention to the Cap. "Well, Tasha will be here at any second to fly you guys back to the tower. I can call in an old friend to help us out," he shrugged. "No guaruntees." He took off just as a second hovercraft glided into sight over the red and violet glow of the setting sun.
"Where are you going?" Clint called after him.
"Someone's gotta go check in with Pointbreak's girlfriend," Tony explained before jetting off toward town. Thor watched him disappear into the distance, wishing that he could follow. Then he looked back down at his catatonic sibling and pulled him closer to his chest. No. He needed to stay. He wasn't going to let Loki out of his sight again. Losing their mother had been far too painful already. Thor didn't know if he could stand to lose him too. He wondered idly at the identity of Tony Stark's 'old friend' and why the mortal had looked so certain that he or she could help, despite his caution. It would be interesting to meet this mortal healer.
Astral Plane...
Erik paused and looked up from his book upon hearing an ominous rumble echo through the mansion. Nothing appeared to have changed, but he got up anyway and set his novel ontop of a line of books in the built-in bookshelf to his left.
Another tremor warped the opposite wall into a mass of fluid matter, rippling like the surface of the reflecting pool outside. Erik watched until it settled into a more appropriately solid state of being. Then he made his way over to the far door. It should lead into the bedroom despite its occasional habit of opening into Marie's closet every once and a while for no discernable reason.
When Erik opened the mischievous portal this time, it was misbehaving in a more disconcerting manner. On the other side of the doorframe, there was no bedroom. Nor were there any racks of second hand dresses and pants suits with far too many gloves for a normal woman to need in a single year. There wasn't even the familiar, if uninteresting hallway that this door led to in the reality it was drawn from. No. Erik opened the door to find himself faced with nothing but deep, impenetrable darkness.
It was the kind of blackness that has no right to exist within the extent of a sane man's experience. The kind of shadow that is so dark and inexplicably dense that it allows no light to cross its very precise bounaries. Somehow, without anyway to verify his theory, Erik simply knew that this darkness was vast. It was unnavigable, cold, and empty. He didn't know how it had gotten there. He didn't know what it meant, but one thing was certain. The Void had come to meet them.
A/N: Hey guys! Sorry it took me so long to post this. I've been kinda busy this past week, and hey, it was my birthday so go easy on me maybe? *looks ashamed by her own pathetic excuse for an excuse* Anyway, hopefully this was entertaining enough to make up for the delay. Thanks for reading it. Special thanks go to icanhearthedrums and 1noel11 for their lovely reviews. Feedback is always appreciated.