Part Three: The Impact
In which Loki collides with unpleasant truths and the nature of destiny. Or, the deception ends.
LXI
MEMO
TO : All SHIELD Personnel
FROM : Agent Philip Coulson, S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ
CC : S.H.I.E.L.D. Operations, Director Fury, Human Resources
DATE : June 29th, 2012
RE : Reminder of SHIELD Human Resources Policy
I would like to take a moment to remind all agents, technicians, and support personnel of the Human Resources Policy outlined on page 48 of the handbook.
3.1 - All common-use areas within S.H.I.E.L.D. owned properties shall remain accessible to all employees, including support personnel.
It has been brought to my attention that several employees of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, & Logistics Division have been participating in a campaign of targeted and malicious behavior in the common areas of HQ.
This behavior is not tolerated by S.H.I.E.L.D. command, and will be met with strict punishment and appropriate corrective disciplinary measures. The common areas are meant to be shared and used by all employees, and should not at any time be made inaccessible to such employees on the basis of another employee's cavalier actions.
This includes any and all actions that result in the perpetuation of foul smells. If you are using equipment purchased by S.H.I.E.L.D., including all microwave devices, your food must be properly contained and covered.
Let me repeat for clarity - there is to be NO microwaving of seafood items without proper containment. Any further attempts to reheat fish uncovered in the common area microwaves will be met with disciplinary action.
Thank you for your prompt attention to this request.
Supervisory Special Agent Philip Coulson
LXII
The Helicarrier is in its dry dock. Steve examines the half-mile long gash that scores the side, extending within to wipe out three decks, and smash one engine to scrap metal.
"Thirty-two injuries," Fury tells him. "Three in critical condition. Not sure if they'll make it."
Steve sighs. "I'm not sure how my being there would have stopped any of this."
"I'm not sure either. Guess we'll never know." And if those words aren't precisely pointed, then Steve will put on a hat just so that he can eat it.
He has had it up to here with the S.H.I.E.L.D. guilt trip. "You're down one member of your Avengers Initiative already. And I gotta say you're damn close to making it two."
Fury hadn't even asked if Steve would want to be a member. Not really. He'd assumed. The question had been - do you think you're ready to reveal yourself to the rest of the world? Have you gotten over that pesky old war yet? Are you ready to contribute to the 21st century?
"Do you hear yourself, Captain?" Fury pins him with a one-eyed glare. "You're threatening to what - follow in the rogue war criminal's footsteps?"
"Rogue war criminal, give me a break." Steve scoffs. "What war are you even talking about? Thor's - Asgard's?"
"I talked to Thor. Got some of the story."
"But not everything. We don't know anything about his planet. Or about him, really. Him or L - Loki." He stumbles on the unfamiliar name. "Don't think you're gonna pull some rhetoric out of your ass to sway me."
Fury opens his mouth and before he even gets out a word, Steve decides he doesn't care. "Look. I am just about done with the hypocrisy. It seems like an endemic problem, and I don't care much for opening that can of worms. Because I'm not sure anymore what S.H.I.E.L.D. would do."
"Captain, if you have something to say, then step the hell up and spit it out. Cause I don't respond to implications."
Steve feels that old temper rise. The one that tastes like cold metal, blood filtering between his teeth, the one that feels like a back-alley brawl and a knuckle sandwich. He wasn't often allowed anger when he was Captain America. Only righteous indignation, the hallowed kind of rage, the reaction of a good man witnessing injustice. And of course he had that in spades, who wouldn't, growing up the sickly, poor son of an immigrant.
But sometimes, Steve just wants to be mad, with nothing noble about it.
"Fine. If I step out of line, do I run the risk of you branding me an enemy of S.H.I.E.L.D.? How did you put it - a rogue criminal?"
"Like we'd do that to Captain America. Give me a break."
"I just told you, I don't know what S.H.I.E.L.D. would do! You have a justification for everything, Fury!" He presses his tongue to the tip of his teeth, tries to regain control of his breathing. "When you make the laws, or control the people who make the laws, a criminal can be anyone you want it to be. I might have been born in what everyone assures me was a simpler time, but I'm not goddamn naive."
The Director is silent a moment. "You're upset about the Phase II weapons."
"What tipped you off?" Steve bites out. "I meant what I said to Coulson. That cube is a weapon of mass destruction, and you're playing around with it, making weapons. I literally died to prevent Hydra from doing that."
"Captain..." Fury sighs. "I respect your convictions, I do. But I've got a boss, too. You don't control S.H.I.E.L.D. And - fair's fair. We don't control you. So. It seems we're at an impasse."
"I guess I finally failed one of your tests."
"What do you mean?"
Fury's go-to move is to feign ignorance, make the other person spell out what he's thinking, so that he can pounce on any inaccuracies. Cast doubt on the whole statement, with a few nitpicking questions. Distract from any broader truth.
"S.H.I.E.L.D. has been testing me, since I came back. From the moment I woke up, it was a test. I knew that, and I allowed it. You were uncertain of me. Hell, I was uncertain of myself. But I am not going to go along blindly with your plan just to reassure you that I'm an asset. I will lose my place here before I agree to do anything that I think is wrong." Steve throws up his hands. "There you have it. We've finally gotten to the point. I am not your figurehead. I am not your toy soldier."
Fury's quiet for a moment. "Captain, I know you're not going to believe this, but I'm glad to hear that."
"You're right. I don't."
"That's why people trust you. I can use that." Fury stands there, in his black leather and his black eyepiece, all smiles. Steve wants to toss a bucket of bleach on his coat. Let him walk around with S.H.I.E.L.D. issue tie-dye. Maybe that would finally wipe the smug expression off his face.
He closes his eyes, holds that image in his mind, meditates on it. "I just told you that I refuse to be - "
"Relax." Fury drags the word out like he's taking it on vacation. "I'm laying out the cards for you, Captain, in a way I don't for most people. For anyone. You know what I'm gonna do if I have the chance. It's up to you to decide if you're gonna go along with it, if our goals intersect, or if you're gonna fuck off, move to Wyoming, and start cattle ranching."
Steve gives him a look. "Tell me why you wanted to start this Avenger Initiative," he says. "Really. Tell me why you think it's a good idea."
"For the same reason I thought it'd be a good idea to make weapons from the Tesseract." Fury raises his hands, seeming to have anticipated Steve's narrow-eyed glare. "Hey, you asked, and I'm doing you the courtesy of answering honestly."
He nods, jerky and reluctant. Fury continues. "Earth isn't ready. There are things out there that we cannot defend against. We need to scrape together every advantage we possibly can, however tiny, if we're gonna make it to the third millennium. I know it. I've seen it." His expression sits heavy on his face, utterly serious. "Earth needs heroes. To protect humanity, and more than that, to give them hope - the whole point of a hero is to show people that it is possible to fight. It's possible to choose to believe in something greater than yourself, and fight for it." Fury steps closer, puts a hand on Steve's shoulder, pins him with his dark eyes. "You know that, Steve. You were that hope for people in World War Two. You let them take you apart and make yourself into a hero for that very reason."
Damn it to hell. Steve hates when Fury's right. He breathes in and out, with those perfectly healthy lungs. "Alright," he finally says. "You want me to be an Avenger - okay. I'll be an Avenger. But that doesn't mean I'm a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent."
"And what, precisely, is the difference?"
"I am here to protect civilians from dangers greater than any we've yet known. I am not here to do S.H.I.E.L.D.'s dirty work. So I guess you tell me what you want me to do, and I'll tell you if I agree or not." Steve crosses his arms over his chest and lets the declaration stand.
Fury considers him. "I suppose they didn't drill nuance into you in the Army."
"Nope. And they never quite managed the unquestioning obedience, either." Boy, had they tried.
"Well, let me know if this request meets your lofty expectations. I want you to go and talk to him."
"Talk to him?" Steve narrows his eyes. Sounds like bullshit. Smells like it too.
"You don't even have to bring the shield for that. Alright?" Fury asks.
"You want me to bring him back in. Why?" Steve demands.
"Jesus, why do you have to argue with everything? I thought for sure this would be a harmless suggestion."
"You called him a rogue war criminal. And you expect me to believe you want him back on the payroll." Steve crosses his arms over his chest and raises a brow. "Gonna need an explanation. Sorry to disappoint."
"Okay - I admit, the war criminal thing, that was me pulling rhetoric out of my ass to to sway you." Fury grins again, and Steve shakes his head, biting the inside of his cheek against any returning smile. Fury waves his hand. "I'm not looking for operatives with spotless records. We've got a former arms dealer, a former KGB assassin, and god-have-mercy, a former karnie. And - and whatever the hell Thor is. At this point, you're the only redeeming member of this Initiative. We could use your reputation. I can handle a former war criminal from an alien world with magic powers. In fact, I'd very much like to handle this alien myself. Rather than have someone else make him an offer he can't - or won't - refuse."
"I see your point," Steve admits. "Okay. I'll go talk to him. I won't promise any miracles, but I'll try."
"That's all I ask."
He can't resist one more question. "If you want to bring Lukas back in, then what's with the dog-and-pony show?" Steve points at the carcass of the Helicarrier.
"If I want to get the permission of the World Security Council to bring him back after that stunt he pulled with the Carrier, I'm gonna need to make a point." Fury spreads his hands. "And I've wised up, Cap. Fear is the only thing they understand. They gotta be scared enough to want to make an ally out of him. But not too scared that they send a drone strike out to the first place he's spotted."
"Would they do that?"
"We have a justification for everything, don't we?"
Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. Fury nudges him in the direction of the elevator. "For now, we have a briefing."
"Another one?"
The Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. snorts. "We had a full departmental briefing the time Coulson found out someone microwaved fish in the break room."
At least at this briefing, Steve has a chance to get a close-up look at Thor. The alien. The prince. The - brother. Lukas's brother. The one he almost destroyed a Helicarrier to get away from. His mind spins at that thought. What the hell'd happened between them?
His first glance isn't quite what he expected. Thor sits in one of the too-small benches by the window, shoulders hunched, licking at a vanilla ice cream cone.
Tony Stark clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth when he sees the direction of Steve's gaze. "What? I couldn't stand watching the big guy mope around."
The enormous palm of the Asgardian's hand engulfs the little cone. Tony beams, clearly proud of himself. "Works like a charm. See? Look outside. It's stopped hailing." He raises his voice. "How is it, bud?"
"It is most exquisitely delicious," Thor calls back. "And cold."
Steve goes to introduce himself, shakes the hand that doesn't hold the half-eaten waffle cone. "Pleasure. Steve Rogers."
"Thor, of Asgard," says the prince. He eyes Steve. "Would you like to fight?"
"Huh?"
"Not in this place, of course, I would not risk the hospitality of the S.H.I.E.L.D. hall." Thor smiles, and it is small. A miserable expression, really. Trying desperately to latch on to a distraction. "You seem a capable fighter, and I would like to spar with a Midgardian. Learn the ways of your warriors."
"Uh, sure."
Fury shepherds them into the conference room. There is a row of windows on one side, so that the open wound of the grounded Helicarrier is in full view. A calculated move. And then there is the picture projected on the other wall of the conference room. With all the rubble, it looks like the footage they show on the news, these days. Twenty-four hours, seven days a week. Steve doesn't know if he'll ever get used to that.
The aftermath. It could have been from any natural disaster. After a tornado, or a hurricane. A flood. An earthquake.
"This is Puente Antiguo," Fury says. "When Loki got through with it."
Steve rubs a hand over his mouth and sighs. Agent Roberts stares hard at the table next to him. That scientist, Agent Simmons, is quiet in the corner, but she doesn't take her gaze from the destroyed town when she speaks. "He did this? Lukas - Loki?"
"He sent a laser-faced metal monster to do it in his stead," Clint tells them flatly. "But yeah."
"Not cool." Stark flips off the screen. "There's only one laser-faced metal monster in this club, and it's me."
"His was a lot bigger than yours," Clint says, drier than the Sahara.
"What, you think Tony isn't used to that?" Natasha cuts in, ignoring Stark's affronted huff. "So let's get to the point. Is he still a danger?"
A chair scrapes against the floor.
Steve turns to watch him rise to his feet: a dark-haired man, new to middle age, but with eyes that are old.
"Need a bathroom break, Banner?" Fury says.
The man gives a sort of half-smile, a flat press of lips. There is no amusement in the expression. "Yeah. Yeah, Fury, I think I do. I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. I don't think you need me in this room."
"You said you'd hear us out." Natasha leans forward in her chair.
Banner stares at the tabletop. "Are the next pictures in your little slideshow gonna be of the Bronx, after I got through with it?"
Steve glances around the room. He's not the only one confused. But there are more who seem to know exactly what Banner's referencing.
"If not," the man says, "you're hypocrites. And if you are — I've looked at those pictures enough on my own time. Every single one."
"Dr. Banner," Coulson hurries to say, "you were brought in to work with Mr. Stark on these portal distortions. We looped in you in this briefing to keep you up to date, since Loki seems to know so much about them too. This isn't anything more than that."
"I am in agreement with this doctor," Thor says. The waffle cone is gone. Instead, he's crossing his tree trunk arms over his silver armor. "You speak on a subject that you know nothing of."
The doctor glances at Thor. "Um. Thanks. Although I'm not sure we're talking about the same thing. You're the alien, right?"
"I am Thor."
Banner tilts his head, opens his mouth, then closes it. "Alright, then."
"Just sit in on this briefing, Dr. Banner. Please. We'll talk after." Coulson can look very earnest when he wants to.
Fury points at Thor. "If we know nothing about this subject, then enlighten us."
"Yeah, what's his beef?" Clint asks. He's snapping a piece of pink bubblegum. Steve swears he's doing it just for the way Coulson's eyebrow twitches at the sound.
Thor looks around for help. "What's his problem?" Natasha asks.
"Why'd he rip apart my Helicarrier when he saw you?" Fury says.
Thor closes his eyes for a moment before speaking. "When we were young, we were the closest of companions. I do not know when that changed. But when my father arranged my coronation..."
Barton snorts. "Say no more."
"Lemme guess, he was mad about it?" Steve's pretty sure the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D is feigning patience. And not doing a great job of it. "And he took it out on my Helicarrier."
"That was - he was not always so quick to anger." Thor pauses. "Well. He was not always so direct about it."
"It didn't seem like he was just angry." Natasha examines Thor over the tips of her fingers. "It was more than that. He was desperate."
Steve hears something in her tone. A delicacy, in the way she layers her words. "What do you mean?" he asks.
"He tried to convince us he wasn't Loki." Natasha glances at him, her lips pursed meaningfully.
Steve sees Thor's coming denial in the clench of his jaw. "He is. He is Loki."
"You thought he was dead," Natasha presses.
"I did."
She doesn't have to ask. Thor kneads his forehead. Then stands, sweeping away from the table and to the window that overlooks the Helicarrier's dry dock. Steve imagines that if he had a cape, the swift movement would have made an impressive flare in the fabric. Maybe he's used to having one, walking with it.
"Loki brought jotunn warriors into Asgard on the day of my coronation. It spoiled everything. In my recklessness, I went to Jotunheim. To fight. To demand recompense. In doing so, I broke a treaty that has stood for a thousand years. My father rightly banished me for it. Here, to Midgard."
That garners dark looks around the table. "Does Asgard often export their personal problems to other worlds?" Coulson asks.
Thor does not seem to hear him. Or, more likely, he ignores the aside. He remains at his post by the window. "While I was gone, Father fell into the Odinsleep. The throne came to Loki. He - he endeavored to ensure that I did not return."
"So far, so predictable," Barton says. "Why'd you think he was dead?"
"When I did return - there was so much that I did not know of what had occurred." Thor finally turns around. He doesn't meet anyone's gaze. "It seemed as if my brother had gone mad. I did not know what to do. We fought. On the bridge, over the void between the worlds. Loki, he - he - " Thor stops, the muscles of his throat working as he swallows. "He fell."
No one has a quip in response to that. All Steve has are more questions. First of all - jotunn? Jotunheim? Another world, maybe?
But then raised voices start, down the hallway, soon outside the door. Thor perks up, like a dog that's heard the clink of a leash. Steve can make out the words others might not be able to. He guesses Thor is the same.
"Agent Coulson himself gave me this badge, and he told me in an emergency, to use it to access the base - "
"Ma'am, with all due respect, there is no emergency that S.H.I.E.L.D. command is aware of, and there is a briefing going on - "
"It's Doctor, thank you very much. And if S.H.I.E.L.D. Command isn't aware there's an emergency then they're even more bureaucratically constipated then I thought. And you know what - no, you're going to let go of my wrist right damn now, you hear me! "
Steve is lifting himself out of his chair, but Thor beats him there. He goes to push on the door. It's not a push-pull kinda contraption, though, it's on a sensor, to slide into the wall when a button is pressed. Thor doesn't seem to mind. He just hooks his fingers around a slight depression where the handle would be on a normal door, and yanks it open. The sensor whines mournfully, then sparks and cuts out.
The agent and the two women on the other side turn to stare. "Jane!" Thor cries.
"Thor," she stutters. The woman, who must be Jane Foster, glances around the packed briefing room. Coulson waits patiently, up at the front of the conference table, only quirking a brow at the new arrivals.
"Oh - " She chokes, then coughs. "Uh. I'm sorry. They said Thor was in here, and I kinda just... well." Dr. Foster ducks her head and bites her lip. The S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who had been guarding the door just rolls her eyes. A dark-haired lady peeks around Jane's shoulder and gives a jaunty wave, then pushes Jane a few steps into the room.
Thor sways toward her, just the slightest bit, before he speaks. "I did not expect you." His tone is soft. More appropriate for a candlelight dinner than in front of a briefing with thirty upper-level operatives in attendance. "After what you said in your home, I did not dare hope…"
The doctor's face flames a charming crimson color. "That was. Um. Thor, I meant what I said. I'm gonna need some time to come to terms with you being back, and everything. It's not like I just sat around waiting for you to show up. I had a life to live."
"Yes she did," the dark-haired one says. "She absolutely sat around waiting for you to show up. She was that crazy woman on the street corners shouting at the sky."
"Shut up, Darcy! She's kidding. Really." Jane smiles at the room at large. It only makes her look vaguely queasy.
Thor looks down. "Then why are you here now? Not that I am not glad. I am. Very glad. But not - too glad. You must not mistake my happiness upon sight of your face as an entreaty on my part to remain in my presence longer than you wish."
Stark leans back in his chair and lays an arm across his forehead, shading his eyes from the overhead lights. "Jesus H. Christ, this is prepubescent." He flaps his fingers in Thor's general direction. "Seriously. Aren't you like, a million years old? Haven't you learned how to talk to women yet?"
"Have you? Or do you just throw money at them?" Dr. Foster snaps.
Steve feels his mouth drop open, but swiftly shuts it again. Barton tries to stifle a laugh and ends up choking. Stark sits up, slow and deliberate. "What's your problem? Mad you missed out on the gravy train?" he sneers. "And yes, I do call my package the Gravy Train, thank you for asking."
Wrinkling his nose, Steve glances around the room. Jane Foster looks disgusted. The slang clearly shot over Thor's head like a meteor.
"What the fuck, Stark!" Barton says, and pretends to gag. Natasha mutters under her breath, something in Russian, and Steve doubts it's complimentary.
"Oh, eww!" Agent Simmons sticks out her tongue.
"That's going in the next memo," Coulson declares.
Dr. Foster raises both hands, palms up. "Okay. That was clearly on me for bringing it up. I'm sorry. Uncalled for. I'm just a little frustrated." She narrows her eyes at Agent Coulson. "Would it have been too difficult to give me your direct line?"
Thor rests one large paw on her shoulder and effectively cuts off any further bickering. "Jane, you are very welcome here."
She glances at his hand, but doesn't shrug him off. "I mean, after what you said - that Loki's suddenly back? I figured this was an all-hands-on-deck situation." She flicks a significant glance over her shoulder at the agent guarding the door. "An emergency. "
"Well," Thor hedges.
"That depends on your definition of sudden," Stark puts in.
She jerks her head around to stare between them. "Explain."
Steve stands from the table. Nothing will get done at this rate. And he'll do anything just so he doesn't have to look at Stark right now. He walks up, extending a hand. She takes it, with a firm grip. "Dr. Foster? I'm Captain Rogers. I think I'll be able to explain what's going on. If you would join me?" He gestures back out in the hallway.
"Oh, sure. Yeah. That'd be great."
Coulson gives him a subtle, grateful nod. Steve ushers both women into a smaller room across the hall. There is an old grey microwave that smells faintly of stale food, and a tiny battered television set. Thor follows behind them, a hulking shadow, with a sheepish set to his mouth.
Before he can start, a voice comes from behind. "Uh - do you mind if I sit in?"
That's the rumpled scientist. Dr. Banner, Coulson called him. Steve steps forward, intending to shake his hand, but Banner quickly stuffs them in his pockets. He can take a hint, so he backs off, waving the scientist toward a slightly ragged chair.
"Wait." Jane narrows her eyes at him. "You're Dr. Bruce Banner."
The man looks abruptly guilty. "I… I am."
"Your latest article in Nature was absolutely inspired, and I just want to say that I really, really admire you." Jane Foster blinks bright brown eyes at him. Her grin is startlingly genuine, warm and effusive, for all that her two front teeth are a bit uneven. Steve immediately decides he likes her. Leaning against the counter, Thor is smiling softly at the back of her head.
Lukas's brother. Thor is Lukas - Loki's brother. Steve squints at him, trying to picture the two as little boys. For some reason, the only image that springs to mind is a blond puppy and a black cat screeching and scratching at each other. He bites the inside of his cheek. That's gonna have to go in his new drawing journal. Right next to the sketch of Clint as a cute, fat little sparrow. Which he can never let the man see.
Banner chuckles, then ducks his head. "Well, I've never even uttered the words gravy train, so I think I've got an edge over Tony Stark at least. Uh - until now, I guess."
"So what happened, Thor?" Dr. Foster asks.
"I told you that when I returned to Asgard, Loki and I fought," Thor says. "He fell. I thought he had died, but…"
"He came to Earth," Steve finished. "A few years ago, as I understand it. I met him a while back, when he helped S.H.I.E.L.D. out with an operation. He said his name was Lukas Eld."
"Coulson said he knows about these distortions?" Banner asks.
Jane Foster perks up, clearly interested. "I don't know much about them," Steve deflects. "Lukas was helping us understand. He said they were portals."
Now both doctors are laser focused on him. "Ask Stark," he says.
"Oh, I plan on it." Jane nods.
And I plan on asking Lukas, Steve thinks. The real question is - will he answer?