The Avengers eyed Loki with mixed emotion. It was evident his comment showed no reverence or remorse. They didn't even validate it with a response. Although the one who'd initially offered the drink, snickered softly to himself. Sensing it was either genuine or a futile attempt at breaking the tension he created. It caught him off guard, as for the rest they didn't seem too keen on filling any of his requests.
Loki shifted his wide eyes between them, falling on Thor's scowling face. It was enough to send a shutter down his twisted spine. It didn't help that beside him was the angry green giant who'd put him in his place not so long ago. The rhythmic thump in the back of his head was a not so subtle reminder. He didn't seem particularly pleased to see him. The feeling was mutual. He was silently grateful for the cognitive realignment as much as it hurt.
Stark was the one to break the silence. "Get him on his feet. I'll stand around, posing up a storm later." He quipped, full of himself as expected. "By the way, feel free to clean up." He said sarcastically, strolling off. Loki was surprised when Thor took him by the hand and hoisted him to his feet. He wasn't too thrilled about bearing his own weight, not that it was his choice. None of them are concerned when he's a bit unsteady and swaying, probably never even noticing.
Several homeland security officers and Shield personnel entered the top floor. It quickly became a mass of confusion. It's a wonder the fractured floor could withstand so many people. Natasha handed the spear off to one of the men in black. Loki couldn't help but dart a parting glance towards it as it was lowered into a padded case. Just being near that cursed object made him nervous.
They considered it a prize. Nothing good will come of those who possess it. Despite the odds it was only a matter of time before that power was misused again. He shifted his sights away knowing that wherever it goes, it will only bring misfortune. Loki swallowed hard, quickly establishing his bearings. His heart thudded hard in his chest as an uneasy feeling arose. It was a familiar fear, the muscle memory of being restrained. He clenched his teeth and forced his feet. He interlocked his fingers at his waist where they were fixated. He was well determined to keep up his appearance. No matter what. He would shut away his emotions. His only focus was remaining steady. One foot after the other, he said to himself, praying he didn't trip over himself. Loki complied with his captures, following his brother's lead bound in chains.
He stood firm, watching the group disperse as if nothing was a miss. He shifted his sights around the room, as it was soon engulfed with busy bodies. Thor ushered him forward. Which he obliged, keeping his head down, as he shuffled ahead. Idle thoughts occupied his dizzy mind. They may never learn his true intentions and he was okay with that. None of it really mattered anymore.
Any credit he could coerce would be null and void. Every act of cruelty was dealt by his hand. He was unhinged and absent minded but still he must remain a villain in their eyes. That was his goal. It was easier than any pathetic attempt at spewing the truth. They had no idea what those monsters were capable of, even now. He questioned whether his mind was even his own. He had to take the fall or else risk losing whatever he had left. For now he pushed any worries deep down, pulling his mind back to the present. Only to feel awkward in the silence.
"On my way to coordinate search and rescue." Steve said over to coms as he passed by. Only to be mocked by Loki who transforms into him, repeating his words. He was ignored by the rest as expected. He turned back into his regular self, unable to hold the form for long. He rambled on some half baked insult, getting cut off by Thor who muzzled him before he could say another word.
The look Thor gave him was dirty and the feeling procured made his stomach drop. He broke out into a cold sweat and his heartbeat sped up. He couldn't understand it but for some reason he desperately wanted out. His eyes were shaded by thick strands of hair as he drifted into a dark memory.
Even though it was just a glimpse it was enough to explain his nervousness. He'd been here before, many times. Bound and lead like an animal. The feeling was so eerily familiar even though it 'd been buried. He didn't understand why he couldn't remember the details. He assumed it had something to do with the after effects. Either way he was quick to accept the feeling, instinctively becoming more docile. He calmly follows the rest with the look of despair laced within his eyes.
Steve noticed the subtle change. He wondered perhaps it was because he was battle worn and tired of fighting.
But it didn't make sense, after going through all that trouble just to give up. He didn't expect him to be so forthcoming. They all expected him to put up more of a fight than this at the end. It was like he was waiting for it. Something seemed different about him. He wouldn't deny it piqued his interest.
Tony's too caught up in himself to notice. Steve was the most vigilant of the bunch, still with everything going on he had more to worry about than the state of their captive. Loki mocked him but he can tell it's just a front. He shifted his sights past him, not lingering for long but he could tell the guy was having a hard time. He wasn't fooling anyone with that pompous display. Anyone desperate enough would do anything to differ attention. In order to keep themselves safe or for other reasons. There's no telling what he was hiding.
The weak appear mighty and strong but in the end they're fragile. It's like a defense mechanism. He'd seen it time and time again. Young men flock to war with the impression of bravado. They're totally unaware of true danger until faced with it. The battlefield was no place for a kid. Still there were plenty. All of them put on a facade to fool themselves into believing they could hold their own. He shook off the thought. No one's prepared to enter a place like that, young or old, soldier or civilian, sinner or saint. The war machine did not discriminate. It's a place rival only to hell.
It felt like yesterday he was in it, fighting for what he believed in. Now he didn't know what he was doing. It was like even though 70 years had passed, the fighting hadn't stopped. All because of that cube. He eyed the tesseract as it was lowered into the case. He was a man out of time. Lost in a new one. He sighed, figuring the only thing he could do was take it one day at a time. He glanced back to their prisoner, whose eyes remained locked on the shoulder of a certain blond. This was something more complex about that man. Steve knew he didn't have time to dwell on things out of his control. But he could see it in his eyes. Behind the defeat there's a deep sorrow. He sighed, shifting his attention to the elevator as the door opened.
They crammed unceremoniously into the enclosed area. Filing in one after the other, filling all available space. The Hulk casually followed behind only to be halted for being too big. Everyone exclaimed, holding their arms out, preventing him from entering. The over-sized brute wasn't too thrilled to find there was no room for him. His scornful features reflected his growing rage. Loki snickered beneath his mask, waving a nice little farewell before the door slid shut. This easily set him over the edge. The Hulk let out an angry roar before punching the door out of frustration, denting it inward.
Loki couldn't help but jolt at the sound of crunching metal. A bit thankful for being on the other side and nowhere near the beast. Within the confines of the metal chamber it was silent. Other than the respective pants of out of breath agents from the recent disturbance. They'd been running rampant since the end of the calamity, picking up the pieces. The rest of the team stood stoic around him, sharing a collective placidity. Their bodies were stiff and rugged. Wearing exhausted faces and battle worn attire that retained the stench of sulfur.
This was the first moment they were able to relax just a bit. Although it was near impossible to drop your guard around someone like Loki. With the exception of Stark who was sitting on the case which contained one of the most dangerous items ever to come in contact with the human race. As if he hadn't toyed with anything less dangerous within the past ten minutes.
The ride down the elevator was uneventful other than mindless chatter between agents, of which he paid no mind. His eyes were fixated on the digital numbers on display just above, counting down. The chamber ricketed as it passed each floor, making for a subtle countdown. He idly shifted his sights around, noticing how many lights there were. They appeared like a split glimmer caught his eye as he passed by. Like little starbursts as if he were gazing through sleep filled eyes. He was unable to focus on them. The brightness was too harsh for his sore eyes. He blinked lazily in a feeble attempt to clear but to no avail. He shrugged it off, used to it by now. His tired eyes were etched with exhaustion. A bit bloodshot and heavy. It'd become uniform. He normalized the aches and pain as if it was part of everyday life and he wore it well. He couldn't remember that last time he'd slept without being upright or had a decent meal.
He hadn't dreamt. Due to the magic he'd become incapable. He wondered if he'd see anything worthwhile when he closed his eyes. Anything other than the dark of which he was accustomed. His idle thoughts lingered. Those monsters ran him ragged, any reserves he held were spent. Just to remain standing was taxing. He honed in on each beep indicating each floor.
He shifted his sights to the crop of blond hair in front of him. Fixating his attention on the back of his brother's head as he shuffled through past regrets. He reviewed each interaction they had since he arrived, however short. Thor really seemed to pour his heart out to him, pleading for him to abandon his goal and come home. He clenched his fist, remembering how he wanted to drop the facade but not strong enough to do so. He watched through open eyes unable to change a thing. He said they were looking for him. Loki desperately wanted to believe they were, not that it would have mattered. Even though he was unable to voice it, he was happy to see him again.
Suddenly the elevator stopped and the doors slid open with a satisfying chime indicating arrival. The ones at the front crossed the threshold followed by those gathered around him and Thor who tugged his chains along. The lobby was packed with people. All voicing their concerns to the group as they made their way to the exit. He wasn't expecting so much commotion on the ground floor. From the looks on the others' faces they weren't particularly thrilled by the interference.
As soon as the door slid open there was a swarm of people gathered around. Several news crews managed to slip past security in the midst of confusion. There was so much happening all at once that he was having a sensory overload. The flash from the cameras blinded him. All the sound morphed into a stagnant almost white noise as he completely dissociated.
He kept his head down, focusing on nothing in particular other than how terrible he felt. The fatigue was starting to catch up with him. His head kept throbbing, evidently getting worse. He didn't even realize they'd left the building until the setting sun hit him with its warmth. He shuddered against the heat, reminding him of something else he couldn't quite understand. He went into cold sweats at the inquiry, his mind a jumbled mess. He brushed off the confusion noticing there was a nice big transport vehicle waiting for him on the outside.
It was at this time he heard the green giant make it to the base of the stairs, given away by the angry bellow coming from behind them. Muscle memory reminded him to get as far away from him as possible. Next thing he knew he was being led into a reinforced box truck without so much as a fuss. The crisp evening air was pleasant for a second. The artificial light in the center of the metal roof was the only thing to greet him when the doors seal behind him and lock. He glanced around noticing there were no windows and a bench bolted down on each side. Which seemed very inviting. It took a lot to keep himself from dropping to the floor and nodding off for a spell.
Instead he shuffled over to the seat at his right, turned and plopped down abruptly. His bones shifted and cracked as he settled down. Unexpecting the weight of his body to tug him down. It felt like his condition was steadily getting worse. From a tingling numbness to sharp acute pain at random. The lingering taste of copper on his tongue. He wouldn't last much longer like this. He sat in silence reflecting on everything he did. The trouble he caused will forever be one of his biggest regrets. He wondered what they would do with him. No matter the consequences, he would take them in stride. He'd wronged so many, for them. Even under the influence, he wouldn't deny that his actions were his own. He was tired of running away. He hung his head solemnly, accepting his fate. Where he ends up is of no concern.
…
Thor noticed Loki was a bit sluggish entering the van. He was so on edge about the situation that he might be seeing things. Something was bothering him but he couldn't quite place it. Thor notices he's different from before, almost sheepishly following behind. It caught him off guard. He's oblivious to the extent of Loki's condition, yet he can tell he's gotten slower. There was a subtle limp that rattled along in the chains as they walked.
For him to be compliant usually held some underlying ulterior motive. He paid him no mind as he led the way, half believing Loki's body language. It's obvious he's in pain but after everything that's happened it's hard to tell if anything he does is genuine. Other than his pride, he was sure he was fine. There would be no pity waiting for him when he returns. Thor was eager to get home, right after he made well on his promise.
A few moments after Loki's secured in the van, a collective sense of relief washes over them. It was almost like they could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. Bruce started to shift back to normal. It was a surprising quick transformation. Within moments he was his old self again, minus a few articles of clothing.
"It's about time my friend." Tony set a hand on Bruce's shoulder as he shook the last bit of green out his system. He instinctively looped his fingers around his outstretched waistband in order to keep his pants from falling down. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, letting out a heavy yawn. "What now?"
Tony was quick to make a suggestion. "I'd say we get Bruce here a shirt and grab something to eat before sending off ole dusty trails over there." He thumbed to the black van behind him that safely housed their captive. Thor seemed worried. Even though there were multiple guards on duty he was skeptical. He didn't feel comfortable leaving him alone. They could tell he was conflicted.
"I don't expect he'll be going anywhere." Steve set a hand on his shoulder, persuading him to come with. "Take your mind off of him for a moment, you deserve it."
That was easier said than done. Loki seemed to be the only thing on his mind. Over the past few days he'd become a thorn in his side but before that. He spent most of everyday, if not searching for him, reminiscing on the past. Before things went awry, back when they were just kids. It felt like it would always be the two of them against the world. He thought back long before anything got complicated. Politics, status, none of that mattered to him. He'd gladly give it up, to start anew.
It's funny realizing some of the best moments were the little ones. What seemed insignificant becomes timeless. Running through the halls, causing harmless turmoil. You never notice how precious it is in the moment. Time well spent. He wanted to go back, before they became distant. He couldn't pinpoint when they started to drift, but somewhere along the lines they diverged, going separate paths. He just never noticed. He let out a heavy sigh, brushing off the nostalgia. He noticed the others started down the block.
"Come on, I'm gonna waste away." Tony said, waving him along. "We're going to eat." He turned back around, walking with the others. Thor shifted his eyes past the armored vehicle, towards the rest, giving into their request and tailing behind.
…
Even though he's good at hiding it, Loki struggles to keep up the facade. It isn't until he's alone that he allows himself to break down a little, allowing the weight of his wounds to show. Tears worked in the edges of his eyes as he sat rigid on the bench along the side of the van. He could feel the sting of each bruise and broken bone as gravity tugged against him. He brushed off the feeling, as he did numerous times before, becoming null and devoid of emotion.
He clenched his jaw, pushing the pain deep down as he straightened up, diving back into as far as he could remember. Back to that last conversation he had with The Other, there was someone else there, looming in the background. He couldn't help feeling he knew him well. It was because of them that his mental and physical state were significantly compromised. He had no doubts of his altered perception, even now it was difficult to recall. Like he had blacked out periodically, dissociating when deemed necessary.
The Other reminded him of his promise, so should he fail. Even though he was far from reach, he feared for those he cared about. He silently swore, he would take this secret to the grave if need be. He knew if a monster like that was willing to risk so much for so little. Invade a world which holds little significance. It'd be nothing for him to return, finish what he started. The only thing keeping them at bay for now was distance. He knew they would be back. They don't understand that it was just a taste of what's waiting out there. They've done it many times before, destroying worlds for the sake of it. He was just a broken cog in the machine, ceasing it from spinning freely. He could only do so much to delay the inevitable but it was coming. Whatever he has planned it's much worse than anything that would've happened had he not failed. If they do not prepare, all of this would've been for nothing.
He could only imagine the things he would do to Asgard. If he had the chance. There wasn't much in this life he cared about. His own self being seemed to be slipping from that list. There were only a handful of things he truly cherished. Old repressed memories of the past seemed out of place. To reminisce was a luxury. For he could never return to the way things used to be. He retained those memories at the bottom of his heart to draw upon whenever need be. Which is more often than not. Childish nostalgia didn't suit him well. But still. He wished he could go back to a better time. Back when his family was whole and safe. Even though it wasn't his birthright, he longed to return home.
He shook off any foolishness. Any ideas he had of redemption were quelled. He learned long ago to never have high hopes, save himself from a hard fall. Still he would do anything possible to prevent further heartache. He didn't want anything to happen to them because of him. He was a pawn ordered to set the stage and gather attention. He did well to remember his place. He didn't deserve forgiveness from him or anyone else. As far as anyone was concerned, this was his choice.
He was driven by a selfish need for control and that was it. He would accept the claims that he acted alone and above all was the one to take the blame. He wished he could unveil those who'd set him up without consequence. He'd have to find a way to tell them, only when he was sure it was safe. He knew it would be nearly impossible to convince them otherwise, assured no one would ever believe him. That wouldn't change the fact it was only a matter of time before he made another move.
He sighed, his mind clouded for the longest time. He remembered a searing pain before arriving. In the confusion he was tunnel driven into completing what he was sent here to do. He clenched his jaw as his eyes glossed over with kept tears. He held so many regrets. If there was ever a chance he could tell him how he felt. Explain the reason he did what he had to. He shook his head, fighting inwardly with himself. It would be no use. He was a fool to believe anything would change.
The time for resolve has long passed. The things he did were inconceivable. He tormented, and desecrated everything in his path. All those lives were forfeited for nothing. In the name of his enemy. His tormentor, that demon whose name and face were blocked from memory, lingering just beneath the surface. Ever present.
Since he started diving back there was this constant headache. His thoughts were sporadic and jumbled images that didn't make much sense. He shifted his mind elsewhere, opting for long blinks in order to conserve energy. Focusing on anything for too long made him nauseous. There was this constant ringing in his ear that refused to leave. He closed his eyes just concentrating on steady breathing. Noticing how the rattle in his chest worsened.
He resided somewhere between hunger and aching pain. He shifted in his seat, mending with the wall. The aftertaste of copper lingered on his tongue as he exhaled. Allowing his mind to drift away, wandering into an oblivion where time seemed limitless and unimportant. He would slip away to this place every time he was faced with an impossible ordeal. More often than not.
His body was heavy and unnatural, just moving around felt like he would have to relearn. He wondered if his organic self could resurface. All the fabricated lies had blurred into a single distorted reality where the truth has been filleted and hung out to dry. He was so unsure. Of himself and his fate, whether anything that'd just happened actually happened. He didn't know what he should do. He needed to understand. The mystery of what happened to him weighed on his mind. He was too exhausted to bother, allowing his mind to doze off.