Chapter 11: Death and other concerns
Loki wandered down the empty hallway towards the sound of arguing voices. Steve could also be heard every so often, attempting to calm the rest of his team. Loki stopped just outside of the cracked open door to the Avengers' conference room. He could easily enter, he knew. In his current intangible state he moved right through solid matter without the slightest effect, but he found the experience... unsettling. He could see Tony Stark moving in and out of view by swiveling his chair from side to side while he turned his phone over and over in one hand. Agent Romanoff was sitting to the inventor's left with her hands folded neatly on the tabletop and Agent Barton's arm was visible on her left. On the near side of the table, Thor was sitting opposite Clint at an angle, with his back tilted toward the doorway and one side of his face just barely visible from Loki's vantage point.
"Everyone, please! Let's try to calm down and take stock of what we know so far. Whether or not this is a trick-" the Captain paused.
Thor had opened his mouth to protest, then instead locked stares with the super-soldier in a silent battle of wills. Thor backed down, but still looked furious.
"We need to consider it with the same care that we would use to assess any other potential threat. Even if Thor's hunch turns out to be only partly valid, that still means that there's an unknown enemy out there with an intent to conquer Earth," Steve summarized. "We can't afford not to look into that."
"I know my brother," Thor asserted.
Loki rolled his eyes. "Sentiment."
"Jane spoke to me of her suspicions that Loki was merely affecting an air of malice when he was with us," Thor recounted. "She believed that he was hiding something, and now she has been taken."
"She mentioned similar suspicions to me too, before you left to fight Malekith," Peter admitted, propping his feet up on his end of the conference table.
Loki shook his head, staring angrily at the ground. He'd known that it was dangerous to allow anyone to see too much. He thought that he'd managed to keep his secret safe, but was it his fault? What if he was the reason why Jane had been taken? She would be dead now because of his foolishness. No matter. She's only one human girl. They are such fragile, fleeting little creatures, regardless. Despite this, the thought didn't sit well with him. He decided that it was because he knew better than to make such a mistake. Not because he cared what happened to Jane.
"That was not the first hint of something amiss. My brother's behaviour during the invasion was unusual, not like the Loki I grew up with. His behavior after our return home only grew more odd, if more familiar," Thor considered aloud. "And there was something that Malekith said..."
"It didn't feel like that bastard was just pretending when he used that sceptre to force his way into my head!" Clint spat, sitting up straighter as he glared at Thor.
The others all declined to respond out of deference to their comerade's experience. All except Thor, who unfortunately, and somewhat predictably didn't know when to shut up. "My brother's mind had been torn open! You heard Lady Frost as well as I! He was not himself!"
"Oh boy..." Tony said under his breath, shrinking into his seat in preparation for the impending explosion.
"Oh, I can't even believe-" Clint raged, his voice rapidly rising in volume. "When? When did she say that?! Your brother is the only one who even implied that he might not be in control! Loki, the God of lies who tried to take over this entire planet! Loki, who murdered one of your friends in cold blood and hypnotized two of us into killing even more people!"
"I'm fairly certain that I didn't kill Agent Coulson..." Loki reflected. Judging by the impressions that he had picked up, both from the consciousness still residing in the back of his brain and from what he himself had read of Peter's demeanor; the Agent had not been deceiving him when they last spoke.
"My brother is no murderer!" Thor argued.
Loki was resolutely ignoring his brother's naive idiocy while he considered Clint's words. "He doesn't know. I wonder what purpose that deception still serves."
"Loki doesn't believe that your friend is really dead," Professor Frost's voice relayed unexpectedly, drawing Loki's attention back to the conference room.
There was a pregnant pause while everyone turned to look toward the head of the table.
"Ms. Frost?" Natasha questioned. Her voice sounded the slightest bit tight.
"He seems to think that Peter can back him up on this," the telepath elaborated, shifting everyone's attention to the opposite end of the table.
"What?" Peter said with an admirable lack of shame.
"God damn it, Peter! Is he..." Clint ground out.
"What. Phil?" Peter hedged, giving up almost immediately in the face of the murderous expressions that the other Avengers had turned on him. "He's good. Keeping busy..."
"You never said anything!" the Cap exclaimed at about same time that Thor yelled, "He's alive!?"
And Clint demanded "What is wrong with you!"
"Ha ha," Tony smiled sharply. "Here it is, ladies and gents." He gestured theatrically toward the Agent.
"You never asked," Peter answered, unfazed, "And it was classified."
"Thank you, and goodnight," Tony concluded. There was an accompanying crack as he gripped the Stark-phone in his hands too tightly, and broke the screen.
Bruce got up and left, walking right through Loki, to the Trickster's intense displeasure.
"Is my brother still here?" Thor asked after they'd all had a little time to come to terms with the recent bomshell.
"Oh, Loki? Yes. He's been lingering outside the door like a lost puppy for the last five minutes."
"I have not!" Loki objected.
"A contrary puppy," Frost added drily. Tony snorted and took a sip of his scotch on the rocks. Although Loki found it hard to believe his amusement to be genuine, judging by the hardness in the inventor's eyes.
"Have you nothing to say in your own defence?" Thor asked, looking from the doorway back to the telepath's face.
Loki finally pushed into the room and began to stroll around the end of the table, putting more distance between himself and Thor. He paused behind Agent Barton's shoulder.
"Let's not waste time on that, Thor. You've already done enough damage by breaking our agreement," Loki dismissed, watching Clint notice from Frost's focus where he must be standing and jerk away from him.
"He says there's no point, and that we're all in trouble since you broke your word." Loki was a bit annoyed at Frost's summary, but at least she got the point across.
"I could not sit by and simply do nothing," Thor stated, not bothering to deny his guilt.
"Yes, well. Good work, Sire. You've put your dearest allies in peril," Loki replied sarcastically. Taking a step back from the increasingly agitated archer, he added directly to Ms. Frost, "You may wish to remind him -" with a nod towards Clint "-that I am powerless in this state."
"He can't hurt you in this state," Frost relayed, adding in response to Clint's inquisitive expression, "He'd like you to know that."
"That is not as reassuring as you might think," Tony pointed out, eyeing his empty glass with regret.
"It matters not. As I see it, there are two obvious solutions to your dilemma, at least in the short term," Loki explained. "First, you could kill me at once. You know that I am being used as a vessel for your foe. Once you are rid of me, he will have lost his most direct link to your realm."
"He wants you to kill him," Frost parphrased.
"No," Thor dismissed with finality.
"This is not your world, Thor. You do not have the final say," Loki said, falling back into his old role as an advisor.
"He says he wasn't asking you," the telepath translated, which although imprecise had Loki's full approval this time.
"There was a second option?" Steve asked, surprising no one. They might not like Loki, but as partial as Clint was to killing his tormentor, they were not murderers.
"Thor hands me over to Jötunheim."
"You send him to- Yodenhime?" Ms. Frost said uncertainly.
"Jötunheim?! Are you mad, Brother!"
"I believe the answer is clear enough," Loki remarked to Frost. She seemed mildly amused by the response.
"Do you not realize what the Frost Giants will do once they get their hands on you?" Thor continued to argue.
"Does that bother you? You hold no true obligation to me. Certainly none that would supercede the safety of your human friends," Loki challenged. "Do not bother to suggest that you would risk the safety of your lover's homeworld only for my sake."
Frost was beginning to have trouble keeping up, but was doing admirably in light of the rush of emotionally charged, projected thoughts flying around the room. "What do you care? You're not going to risk our future for his sake," she drawled unenthusiastically.
"I would not," Thor admitted. Loki breathed out a humorless laugh, taking another step back, but Thor continued, "I will find another way. All is not lost yet, Little Brother, and I will not send you so rashly into danger."
Loki retreated to pace back and forth behind Peter's and Clint's seats.
"Never again," Thor amended. A few of the others looked curious about that clarification but they seemed to be waiting to see where this was going. Loki shook his head, unwilling to believe the implied apology in his brother's words. Thor had always been eager to follow in Odin's footsteps, and the Allfather had made it clear that Loki was no longer wanted.
"You would show such care for a Frost Giant?" Loki snapped, whirling to stare intently into Thor's eyes, despite knowing that Thor couldn't meet his eye.
Professor Frost winced at the wave of hurt and defensive rage running through Loki's outburst, then recited his challenge verbatim. Even without seeing or hearing the true tone of the message, the Crown Prince still tensed as if he'd been struck. Loki couldn't help but notice the hesitation before Thor answered, "I gave my word."
Loki could not speak. He turned and left without a sound. To his surprise, Professor Frost got up and followed him out.
"Smooth," Tony remarked in their wake and Loki heard a loud crash, but he wasn't in the state of mind to care what caused it.
Professor Frost hastened her pace and caught Loki's arm once they were out of earshot of the others.
"What do you want?"
"It's your decision," Ms. Frost advised.
"Pardon?"
"Your survival. You can choose. You're not a telepath; you aren't familiar with astral travel, but there's a time limit," she clarified. "I'd estimate that you have less than an hour left before you start to disperse. You can choose whether you trust their plan or want to die here and now. Your body will give out once there's no consciousness connected to it."
Loki paused, mulling over the new information and the possibilities that it presented. "I see. Thank you for your counsel. It has been most illuminating."
"Sure thing, Sugar."
"I don't know why you keep calling me that."
"Maybe I think you're sweet."
"If that is the case, either you are an appalling judge of character or you've gone daft in your old age."
"Shall I let you in on a little secret, Kiddo?" The woman coaxed, leaning in closer. Loki ran his eyes over her face.
"Daft it is," he determined, tipping his head to one side to hear her better anyway.
"Real monsters know exactly what they're doing, and they don't care," Ms. Frost whispered before pulling away to give the perplexed godling a motherly pat on the arm. "Besides, Charles wouldn't have chosen you if you were one." She smiled at his shocked stare. "I'd know that presence anywhere."
Jane walked purposefully towards Wanda Maxwell's padded cell. It was being guarded by two well-groomed muscleheads in neat new scrubs, so she paused at the end of the hall, pretending to read some notes off her stolen clipboard. In reality she was just taking her last chance to learn what she could about her new opponents. The Doctor who had unwillingly provided her clipboard had been combat trained and had taken double the expected dose of sedative before passing out. Jane only had two syringes left and no battle training to speak of. She had to think her way out of this trap.
The two men guarding the door were both on the tall side and almost as muscular as Thor. Both of them had closely cropped blond hair and a posture as straight as a metal rod. Military maybe? Oh, God I hope not... the shorter one's kind of overweight for active service, but... the younger one has a USMC tattoo. Ex-military. Terrific. Oh, and the Confederate flag over his chest. Jane's breath caught in her throat at the sight of the cross tattooed onto the underside of his wrist with the Gothic print initials C.o. just visible across it. Crap! I'm pretty sure I can guess who these guys are. Jane walked right up to the door, forcing her expression to stay as disinterested as she could manage.
The younger thug rested a hand on her shoulder. "Wait. Where's the ID?"
Jane breathed a tired sigh and held up her fake ID card. "Now boys," she drawled, channeling her favorite uncle, "Much as I'd love to pass the time of day, I gotta get home to my kids." Uncle Graham always been brave, and a good liar to boot. Two things that she felt in desperate need of at the moment.
"And why exactly are you here, Miss McQueen? Yours ain't a face I've seen before," the older one questioned, "I'd surely remember."
Jane tried not to shudder at his tone. "My shift was swapped at the last minute. I just need to get a sample, then I'm off," Jane supplied, careful to look more tired and distracted than anything else.
The older guard looked up at his younger compatriot and nodded.
"Make it quick," he ordered, opening the door and letting her through.
Wanda looked up and locked gazes with Jane as soon as she'd crossed the threshold. She already seemed to know, somehow, what was really going on.
"No need to trouble, I can handle this," Jane told the guard who'd followed her in. She was sure that at any second, he would catch sight of her hand on the other woman's restraints and realize what she was up to.
"No, ma'am. This one's a mutant. No telling what might happen if she got ahold of you."
"Oh," Jane remarked, looking Wanda in the eye while she slipped another syringe out from under her sleeve. "You'd be surprised." Jane turned and stabbed the needle into the thug's neck, emptying the second to last syringe of sedative into his veins.
"Bitch!" he gasped, shoving her up against the wall with enough force to knock the wind out of her, before he passed out. Jane hastily scrambled over to relieve him of his taser, but the other thug was too quick for her.
"What the-?!" He burst into the room and aimed his tazer at her, but Wanda tackled him before he could pull the trigger. He punched her in the face and she let out a feral cry, grabbing his head and ramming it hard into the floor until he went limp.
"Um... thanks," Jane told her, staring wide-eyed at the hopefully just unconscious thug.
"Not dead," Wanda assured her as she stumbled to her feet, sounding less than thrilled with that fact.
"Oh good," Jane replied, then hurried to catch the taller woman when her knees buckled.
"H-llo..." Wanda mumbled, shaking her head as if to shrug off whatever drugs were running through her veins.
"Hi, I'm Jane," Jane hastilly introduced herself.
"Wanda."
"Okay. Can you walk?"
Wanda nodded.
"Good. We really need to get out of here," Jane checked the charge on her stolen weapon, then stole the other thug's taser for good measure. "Come on." She helped Wanda back to her feet and basically dragged her out into the hallway.
"Who sent you?" Wanda inquired, squinting in an effort to focus her vision.
"Uh... I think we'd better wait until we're out of here," Jane suggested. This woman was heavily drugged and, Jane suspected, dehydrated. The last thing that she needed right now was to hear that the stranger who was helping her was forced into it by a mad goddess of death.
Loki sat at the head of the broken conference table, watching Thor pace back and forth at the far end of the room. It had been half an hour since their argument over what to do with Loki. The other Avengers had all fled prior to his return, but the Trickster suspected that at the very least, Stark would demand payment for the broken furniture. It had been a rather nice table. Thor was calming somewhat, finally. He had been fuming and yelling at the ceiling in random intervals for the past ten minutes, but now he was starting to act more depressed than furious. It seemed that the attempt to find a third alternative to their Loki problem had already failed.
It didn't matter. Loki could already feel himself fading. His thoughts were muted and slow, and his ability to focus on anything had diminished dramatically. He was still aware. It was just that nothing stayed at the forefront of his thoughts long enough to make a lasting impression anymore.
Thor slumped back against the wall and let himself slide down to the floor. He looked sad. Loki briefly wondered whether or not he cared. He thought that he might remember caring, but he wasn't sure.
"Little Brother," Thor lamented, looking numbly out the door. "I have failed you. I... I do not know if you can hear me. Lady Frost says that your soul still lingers about this tower. If that is so, I hope that you can. I do not want you to go. You are all the family that I have left now, and I know that you do not believe it, but you are my family. You warned me of a darkness in our- in Father that I was not willing to see. Now perhaps, it is too late." Thor paused to run his fingers through his hair, pulling savagely at the greasy golden strands.
"You might want a bath," Loki reflected, observing his brother's overall unkempt appearance. There was a strange feeling where his heart would be if he were in his body. His chest felt tight, and stiff. He rubbed a hand over it. The feeling was unpleasant, and he found that he really didn't want to think about it.
"I have spent so much of my life wanting to be like him that I forgot why I had thought it so important in the first place," Thor went quiet again. "You always knew better. ...Do you remember my coronation? You came to visit me."
Loki frowned, trying to remember, but all he managed were a few fleeting images: Thor laughing, a few harmless little garden snakes racing across the marble floor, a rather ugly winged helmet glinting in the light.
"You told me that you were proud of me, and I was, too, because I believed you." Thor's jaw clenched and he looked down at the floor. The faint smile that had been spreading over his face twisted into a frown. "You never trusted me, did you brother? Even then, you would rather lie and trick me than tell me when I was wrong."
Loki absently rubbed at his throat. It felt very wrong all of the sudden, but he wasn't sure whether it was in response to some memory, or...
"Mr. Odinson," JARVIS alerted and Thor's head jerked up to face the speaker built into the opposite wall.
"JARVIS? What news have you to report?"
"Sir regrets to inform you that your brother's heart has just flatlined," JARVIS reported, prompting Thor to jump up and hurry out of the room with his brother's bewildered consciousness following behind him at a slower pace. "He and Dr. Banner are doing all that they can to resuscitate him," JARVIS finished.
Thor didn't bother to respond, merely ran down into the lab, cracking the glass pane of the door in his hurry to enter. He came to a stop in between Clint and Steve a couple of yards away from the flurry of activity going on around Loki's bed. Professor Frost watched Loki taking in his own appearance from her seat at the lab table.
There was a plastic breathing tube protruding from his mouth, and his skin had gone ashen gray. It seemed odd to Loki that he would lose his Jötun coloring in death, but he couldn't remember why. That wasn't what was important.
"You said that you would take care of it," he said to the lying telepath. Loki had lost any inflection to his voice a while ago, but he could just barely feel a flicker of betrayal in his core.
"I promised that I would pass it on for you if you died," Frost replied cooly, drawing Steve and Clint's attention."You failed to specify when and where."
"He needs it now. You knew that I wanted it safe," Loki urged.
"What are you talking about?" Clint asked, following Frost's gaze to an empty space behind Thor's right shoulder.
"As a Rolling Stone once said 'You can't always get what you want," Frost informed Loki. "Your death wish won't be my problem until you're actually dead."
"He's here?" Steve snapped, ignoring the confusing pop culture reference.
"Then why aren't you shoving him back in there!" Clint demanded, looking inexplicably annoyed by her lack of initiative.
"I can't force him to live. If he wants to die, I'll let him. Those are the rules."
"Rules? What rules?! He's a war criminal!" Clint exclaimed.
"Rules of conduct aren't about the people affected. They're about the behaviour of the telepath who follows them. You think I'm respecting your privacy because I like you, Agent Barton?"
Clint glared at her, crossing his arms over his chest.
"You understand," Frost approved with a smirk.
"Please! Lady Frost, I beg of you. You must save him!" Thor urged, grabbing the telepath's shoulders in a firm grip.
She shifted into a shimmering diamond form before stating simply "Let go."
"Hold on," Clint realized, still sounding inexplicably pissed for someone who was watching his mortal enemy die slowly. He turned to the obstinate crystalline form in Thor's grip. "He's here, right?"
Frost nodded.
"I can't believe this shit!" Clint muttered to himself before turning in the phantom's general direction and stating forcefully. "Loki, you self-centered, over dramatic little fuck! You are the only witness that we have who can tell us anything about the invasion of Earth. Get your ass back in there or so help me I will hunt you down and find a way to kill you all over again!"
Loki blinked at him. "I don't understand."
Frost shrugged off Thor's loosening grip on her arms and strolled over to stand beside them, transitioning out of her mineral shell. "He's waited too long. You're just confusing him."
"What!" Thor exclaimed, looking panicked.
"You said there was still time," Clint protested through clenched teeth.
"There is still time, but he's fading. He can't focus his thoughts well enough to understand what you're trying to do."
"Fine. He doesn't have to understand," Clint decided, turning back to Loki. "You fucking owe me. You don't get to die until I kill you!"
"How is that helpful?" Tony wondered, watching them from the far side of Loki's bed while Natasha and Bruce readied the defibrilator for another jolt.
"I owe him..." Loki remembered something on the edge of his awareness. It was something important. Did someone need him? He thought that might be it. Loki's eyes finally locked on Clint's face and stayed there, though he still looked dazed.
Frost looked from Loki to Clint. "Well, what do you know. It looks like you've got his attention."
"You're not done here," Clint said sternly, then snapped his fingers and pointed towards Loki's body. If Loki had been completely lucid in that moment, he would've been insulted by how much Clint sounded like one of the huntsman commanding a misbehaving hound. Luckily for all concerned, he only registered the command laced into the words, and despite his fear, his desire was to obey it.
Natasha and Bruce shared a tense look.
"Clear," Bruce announced, and Natasha pressed the paddles to Loki's chest for the last time. The result was almost instantaneous. Loki's body jolted from the shock, but instead of dropping limply back onto the matress as he had the previous times, one of his hands fisted in the sheets and his eyes snapped open. The beep of the heart monitor took on a rapid rhythm while Natasha returned the paddles to their dock. The three nearest Avengers jumped when Loki's other hand darted out to grab Natasha's wrist.
"Bozhe moy!" She breathed, startled, then swallowed, regaining control of her responses. "Easy," she encouraged, gently placing her other hand over Loki's. "It's over now. Just relax..."
Loki gradually loosened his grip on her arm despite having detected her lie.
"That's it..."
The last thing that Loki saw before he passed out was the red-haired assassin shooting Dr. Banner a meaningful look as she carefully eased Loki back down onto the mattress.
Erik didn't even look up from his book when Charles strolled into the room through a door that had not existed a moment ago. "So nice of you to drop by," he remarked drily, turning the page.
"Why..." Charles questioned distractedly, turning to stare at the bookcase that he had apparently entered through.
"I wouldn't bother to try and find the logic in it if I were you. The façade has become unreliable, but it doesn't seem to be dangerous," Erik explained. "Speaking of which, mind the lamp," he warned, right before Charles trod on the tip of the gray kitten's tail. It meowed loudly and hissed at him before scurrying away to hide under Erik's chair. The metal-bender's serene expression darkened and he propped his feet up on the edge of the table before tiny claws could latch onto him.
"That did not look like a lamp to me, Erik," Charles informed his aloof lover.
"It doesn't, but it is one," Erik affirmed. Charles scrunched up his brow in mild confusion, but decided that it wasn't worth pursuing.
"Are you cross with me? I know it's been a while..."
"I hadn't noticed," Erik dismissed, then lowered his book to pin Charles with a piercing stare. "Although I would love to hear what justification you have for leaving your channel free to try and kill himself."
"I- Well, I hardly intend for him to-" Charles stopped, eyes narrowing as a thought occurred to him. "Wait. How did you know about that?"
Erik wordlessly turned the book in his hands so that Charles could read it for himself. It was a blow by blow account of Loki's rather disconcerting brush with death and telepathic disintigration. "Fascinating. But why does it stop there?"
"New text stopped appearing when you arrived here. I thought that this was your doing."
"Hmm. Maybe it is... certainly not on purpose... Is it just Loki, then, or-?"
Erik closed his book with a loud clap, and Charles winced.
"You're still cross," he acknowledged, spurred on by the intensity of Erik's glare. "Listen. I didn't think that he would push himself that far. He needed time, and the freedom to choose."
"And what does it matter if he gets you killed in the process. Right, Charles?" Erik snapped.
"No," Charles disagreed. Unfortunately, it came out sounding a little too much like a question. Erik's anger only grew in intensity and he stood from his seat to grab Charles by the front of his cardigan and pin him against the bookcase.
"Do you have any idea what you've almost done?!"
"Erik, Darling, please understand, I knew that he wouldn't go through with it. Granted, I didn't realize quite how reckless-"
"Shut up!" Erik interjected, quickly digressing into a mixture of German and French curse words and finishing it off with something that sounded like Polish and was definitely directed at Loki. Charles had no idea what any of it meant, but the last part had sounded extremely bitter.
"Erik? I-" Charles began, but Erik didn't give him a chance to finish the apology. Not with words anyway. He wasn't sure how long they stayed like that before breaking apart for air. Charles leaned in for another lingering kiss but his attempt was almost immediately foiled by a sharp pain in his foot. "Ah! Bloody animal!"
Erik chuckled and shoed the evil little cat away.
"That is the meanest little kitten," Charles decided, watching the furball arch up to bat at Erik's foot a couple of times before it lost its resolve and retreated.
"It's a lamp," Erik corrected.
Charles shot him a look.
Erik foiled his attempt at sterness with a kiss on the nose.
"Fine, Darling. It's a lamp. Have you got any ideas what we should call it?"
"I've been calling it 'the lamp'. It seems the sensible thing to call it." Erik replied.
"Yes, sensible. It does, however, display some remarkable similarities to a cat," Charles pointed out. "People give names to cats. It might be a good idea."
"I'm not naming a lamp simply because it's decided to act like a cat, Charles," Erik countered.
"Naturally. That way madness lies."
"You know you've been unusually sarcastic of late," Erik noted, his irritation beginning to return.
"You try living in Loki's head for a week without becoming sarcastic. If you can manage that, it'll merit a medal," Charles defended, then paused, frowning at the wall.
"Charles?" Erik prompted, watching a self-deprecating smile spread over his friend's face.
"I think that conversation got a bit out of hand," Charles admitted with a chuckle.
Erik smiled and sat down on the couch, waiting for Charles to make himself comfortable against his side before they discussed more important matters. Afterall, they had been apart for a while, and Erik wanted to make the most of it.
A/N: Ok. Yay! Erik's back! I was beginning to miss him... and the lamp. Or is it a cat? You decide. Anyway, sorry for the abrupt ending but a gal's gotta sleep. I figured it was better to leave it on a high note rather than blundering sleepily into darkness and hitting some ridiculous and perplexing cliffhanger. Thanks for reading. Hopefully, you found this enjoyable. Special thanks to icanhearthedrums for reviewing. Please guys, feedback is love.