Chapter 2.
He sensed the vehicle jerking to a stop; he then heard Selvig opening a door and calling out for help. Soon, Loki felt himself being carefully moved to a stretcher and rolled into the hospital.
Once inside he feigned regaining consciousness, if only to have some control of what tests they might want to run on him.
Hospitals had changed a great deal since the last time he had been in Midgard, and so did doctors and their procedures. A surge of panic almost made him lose his composure at some point when the doctors mentioned a head scan to rule out any internal damage he might have. However, he willingly subjected, knowing that it would be better than being sedated and tied up to a bed.
Thankfully, the scan came out clear and there were no uncomfortable questions asked about his origins. Once doctors were satisfied with the immediate tests, and while they waited for the results on the other ones, like blood and urine, they left him alone in a room.
His headache had almost disappeared when a nurse came into the room with a tray of food. Loki tried to start a conversation, as the young man left his supper for him to eat, but the nurse said he was too busy. However, he promised to stay a bit with him after his shift if he needed it.
Loki wasn't a fool. He had heard conversations while they tried to get him into ER about his lack of identity. They had given him a wrist tag with the name John Doe and a series of numbers. Of course a nurse would stay with him and chat him up. Amnesia and no identity often spelled trouble. Back when Queen Victoria reigned in England is was far easier to pull this stunt, but apparently now humanity had developed electronic files, and Loki knew all too well how efficient they could be.
He needed to get out before they called the authorities; but not before he could learn something about Midgard and on which country he had landed in.
The nurse's name was Marco. He was polite and quite helpful, and probably exceeded on his career, but he was no adept interrogator. Loki used his amnesia with prudence, and played the young nurse like a fiddle to learn almost everything he needed, like the current year (almost a century since his last visit), the state of the world and the two World Wars plus the nuclear crisis that almost erased any trace of life in that planet and, last but not least, the existence of augmented humans who had risen as heroes.
But aside from that, Loki also learned about the staff's shifts and, when his curiosity was finally sated, he feigned feeling drowsy. The nurse then let him alone and closed the door behind him.
The perks of being able to talk before throwing any punch was, among other things, that people didn't think of you as threatening, in the worst of cases. They hadn't called for the Sheriff yet, thinking of him as just a harmless, homeless man.
As he waited, that musing took root in his mind. How ironic that he could ask himself the same question: Who am I?
Odin knew it had been Thor's temper what had caused this situation. Perhaps he had sensed someone traveling to Jotunheim in the prior days and suspected him for that?
Then his arm turning blue flashed in his mind, and a doubt spread in his heart. He had always suspected himself different from his brother. Frigga, their mother, always quenched that doubts telling him that each person has different gifts, and that Loki's was one of power beyond imagination.
All his life he had been taught that his father had defeated the Frost Giants when they had tried to conquer Midgard. The Asgardians had taken Earth under their protection and pushed the Giants back to Jotunheim, where they were finally defeated and stripped from their greater source of power: The Cask of Ancient Winters.
Was it the only thing they took?
Suddenly, realization pierced him like a knife to the chest. What if Odin suspected Loki had learned the truth and exiled him because of that? Jotunheim was forbidden for a reason other than to keep the peace treaty, the Realm was banned especially to him. Not that it had been the first time he had visited that place, but he had always kept his distance from its inhabitants.
Why taking and then discarding him as if he wasn't worthy anymore? Why fostering and having him growing up with Odin's true son to then sending him away once the Allfather suspected that Loki could have uncovered the truth?
All those questions plagued him endlessly, as he waited for the hall outside his room to be empty. It was well into the night when he finally sensed enough silence outside to attempt going away. Hopping off his bed, Loki put back his old, tattered clothes and walked quietly through the corridors, searching for an exit. He could swear he heard the voices of the people who had found him echoing through the hallways, but dismissed it as an aftereffect of tiredness and agitation.
Once outside he realized he wasn't done: He had no vehicle, and distances seemed very long in that place. He stayed long enough to see the first prototypes of combustion cars, but he had never attempted to drive one, and he feared the current ones were far too primitive for him to feign owning one. He entertained the idea of stealing one, but discarded it when he saw a sentry box at the hospital's entrance, and the black semi-spheres installed at intervals, which were surely surveillance cameras.
He strutted casually among the cars, feeling exposed, and at the same time searching for a way to escape far and fast. So distracted he was he neither heard, nor saw the van reversing just when he was about to cross through an intersection. He felt the spare wheel hitting him on his side, knocking the wind out of him and making him fall unconscious a second time.
xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx
When he opened his eyes, he was laying on the backseat of a familiar vehicle. Still, he didn't fully open his eyes yet.
"Sure he doesn't need CPR?"
"Darcy, will you knock it out?" Jane's voice snapped.
"Fine, but you are angry because I'm voicing your thoughts," he could picture Darcy smiling as she said that. He hoped that women, in the last century, had become loser at expressing themselves, and that those taunts were commonplace among normal people. Mingling with lowlifes would make it harder for him to carry out his plans.
He groaned loud enough so that his hosts noticed he was listening and sat up, rubbing the arm the van had hit.
"How are you feeling, son?" asked Selvig. Somehow, his tone was a bit less than amiable.
"Dizzy… weren't you taking me to a hospital?" he was sure that, even with his powers sealed, he was bound to be more resilient than the average human, but if such rough treatment continued he might suffer some consequences.
"Actually," said Darcy. "We are taking you from the hospital."
"You were wandering in the street anyway," Jane pointed out.
"Yes, I was trying to get away and then…" he feigned a confused frown. "What happened then?"
"You tripped," Darcy hastily.
"Yeah, you tripped," echoed Jane, her cheeks bright red. "And then we had to…"
"We supposed you were out from the hospital and didn't want go back so, since it was only a little bump, we decided to take you with us," ended Darcy.
Under normal circumstances, he would have played a prank to get even, a very good one. But said normal circumstances involved being still a prince in Asgard, and that the ones responsible for his discomfort had intentionally harmed him. There was also the fact that he depended upon these people to get somewhere; it was true they hadn't been the best of hosts so far, but at least they seemed honest and clueless enough to serve his plans.
"Still can't remember your name?" asked Jane, wanting to change the subject.
"What if we name him?" Darcy said before Loki could say anything.
"Darcy…" Selvig warned.
"But he needs a name," she protested. "We can't call him 'hey dude' all the time! And John Doe sounds like a hitman movie name."
"Robert will suffice," Loki said, bringing the discussion to a halt.
"Robert it is, then," Jane nodded. "So, tell us, Robert, how did you arrive here?"
"You can't expect me to remember how I got here if I can barely recall my own name," he chuckled.
"Yeah, you're right," she corrected herself. "But we have some photos that might refresh your mind."
"Photography has gotten that far?" he wondered, but he said aloud: "I'd rather have a shower first, please."
xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx
He turned the water as cold as he could and stepped inside, but quickly jumped out, cursing and shivering, and turned the tap to hot. Nothing had happened to his skin except for the appearance of goose bumps. Either he needed a much lower temperature or his Jotun nature had been sealed away along with his magic.
As soon as the water was warm enough he stepped into the shower, letting it trickle down his neck and back as he tried relaxing his aching muscles.
If the Allfather had not only sealed his powers, but also changed his body to make him a Midgardian, that would explain all that had happened in the last hours, especially the fact that the doctors hadn't found anything "wrong" with him when looking at the head scans. He would age, wither and die like any other mortal, but he wouldn't curl up in a corner, alone and forgotten. He had left the means during his last stay on Earth in case he needed a haven. He only had to contact the right people, something he had been planning on doing anyway after the coronation, just to renew the data and have another century planned ahead, just in case.
The clothes Jane had provided him to substitute his burnt and tattered ones were a bit saggy, especially the shirt, but he wasn't about to complain. There would be time to buy new ones.
It had been a relief when they had given him their names and what they did for a living. They were scientists, occupied with the study of the Universe (or the small part they were aware of). Jane exceeded on her field but, as her father before her, and as many others before them, the scientific community overlooked their findings, labeling them as "eccentric" in the best of cases. He shook his head as he dressed up, thinking about how little Humanity had changed.
The sound of Jane's excited conversation with Selvig reached him, a conversation which didn't stop even when he came out of the bathroom.
"I feel your friend might feel offended if you lend me his clothes," Loki told her, stopping her enthusiastic dissertation.
"Friend?" Jane made a face, then she blushed when he presented the nametag with 'Donald Blake, M.D.' scribbled on it. "Oh, yeah," she exclaimed, yanking the nametag from his hand and tearing it to pieces while giggling nervously. "That was my ex. Good with patients and very bad with relationships."
"I'm sorry to bring this up-"
"Oh, nonono!" she opened the small book she carried as if searching for something, just a ruse to conceal her nervousness. "Sure you don't remember anything?"
He stared pensively at the board with photographs, charts and all sort of diagrams. In one of the pictures one could see the image of the Bifrost's core with a humanoid shape in the center: his body as he was about to land on Midgard.
All the equipment displayed across the room was quite impressive, according to what Loki had seen a century ago, but he refused to comment on it, not knowing what the normal technology would be during those years. It was still a fact that, any piece of equipment he had seen during his short stay was still a child's toy to Asgardian standards.
Jane kept chatting and pacing to and fro, displaying energy levels her companions lacked. Selvig sat near the board, while Darcy nursed a cup of a steaming coffee at one of the computers (Loki deduced the beverage was such a thing, but he wasn't that sure). Loki casually walked near the girl and sat beside her, still looking at the board.
"Does she always act like that?" he whispered to Darcy.
"Only when she thinks she has found something," the girl muttered, stifling a yawn. "She's also high with caffeine. Don't know how she can pull two all-nighters and still be that fresh. Selvig sometimes thinks she's gonna pass out at any moment."
Loki looked around them: They were in a spacious room where, instead of solid walls, huge windows let them see the village around them from all sides except the wall where there was the bathroom and the stairs to the upper floor. The sun was rising, bathing the whole space in a golden light. Outside, the villagers were slowly waking up and returning to their daily routine. Jane kept recounting her findings and her calculations, while Erik and Darcy waited in respectful silence, seemingly used to such displays.
Speaking to mortals about the Bifrost or the secrets from Asgard was strictly forbidden. Midgardians had always been considered a technologically inferior race and, as such, better left on superstitious beliefs rather than disclosing a truth they weren't prepared for yet.
But this mortal girl, this Jane Foster, not only knew about the Bifrost: she could actually predict the disturbances that its usage and its routine recalibration caused in their atmosphere, and actively sought them out. Now she had discovered it and she seemed to know it was a portal to another place. She gave it another name, an Einstein-Rosen Bridge, but she knew the truth. And she had that unwavering determination he knew oh so well.
"So you think I'm that dark shadow?" he asked, pointing at the photo.
"What else?" she said excitedly. "There was no one else with you, and we had been there all night long without seeing or hearing another car."
That a human could understand the way Asgardians travelled between Realms opened many possibilities. However, he still chose to be cautious; that they had seen the Bifrost didn't grant they would believe that Asgard existed.
"Which reminds me," said Darcy, seemingly coming to life and typing something. "That you need an identity."
"What?"
"They asked us for your ID at the hospital but we said we didn't know you. You are lucky to have gotten out of that place. Without an ID they would have kept you there and called the police."
"Where do you come from?" Erik asked. It had been the first time he had spoken to him that morning, and even when his tone was soft, his gesture was far from friendly.
"I mean," Darcy kept talking. "In case you are an alien, of course. You need papers to go around here."
"Darcy," Jane laughed. "Next you'll tell him to get a mortgage too."
"I'm afraid my former identity cannot be used anymore," said Loki, which was the whole truth.
"Cool, I can get you a new one!"
Jane rushed to Darcy's side and stopped her typing.
"It's okay!" Darcy protested. "No one'll notice it, especially if they aren't looking for… whoever he really is."
Loki scratched his head and smiled wryly.
"Maybe the alien story would be easier to believe," he said.
"Try us," Erik crossed his arms over his chest.
Letting go of a deep sigh, he started his story with a question:
"Have you ever heard of Presbury&Norwood?"
Darcy shook her head, but Erik nodded.
"What has a lawyers' firm to do with this?"
"My real name is Robert Conrad Norwood, I am the great-grandson of Albert Bertram Norwood."
A spark of recognition softened Erik's countenance. The man uncrossed his arms and opened his mouth to speak, but only held Loki's gaze. Darcy typed furiously at her computer and let out a gasp.
"They are like copies!" she said, her eyes going from the screen to Loki's face.
Erik sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"I knew you looked familiar," he sighed.
"Do you know him?" said Jane, who still held her notebook to her chest as if it was the most precious thing in the world.
"I spent some time in England when I was younger," said the man, taking a seat again and looking somewhat defeated. "Everyone named Norwood was taunted about being the 'lost heir' and some of them joked about claiming the will."
"It says that whoever inherits it will be almost as rich as Tony Stark," Darcy, whose eyes seemed glued to the screen, exclaimed. "Not bad, Jane. You wanted to catch an alien and caught a rich dude instead."
"That is, if he can prove he's old Albert's flesh and blood," said Erik.
"So that's why you have been living with a false identity?" Darcy asked.
Loki nodded.
"Some people have been after us ever since I can remember. I was only told everything I needed to know very recently and I've been on the run ever since. When you found me, I was running from some people who… let us say, double-crossed me. I escaped and got lost in the desert, and you know the rest."
"Will they come for us?" Jane asked.
"I don't think so," Loki laughed. Perhaps his story had been too extreme. It worked better in medieval times. "They probably think me dead."
"Well, we can fix that," said Darcy, while rummaging on a bag. "I can't give you physical documents, but I can arrange your record."
"She's a hacker," Jane said as explanation.
Loki nodded, having no idea of what it meant, but a hunch told him it could be the equivalent to the forgers he had met in London's underworld.
Darcy took out a black, hand-sized device from her bag and told him to stand with his back against the only wall in the room. His picture taken, Darcy sauntered back to another computer, plugged the black device in and began working.
Loki edged towards the screen with information about the Norwood family. There was Arthur, standing alongside his partner James Presbury at their office's door; he would inquire later what had become of James. He had been an intelligent young man, but one whose talented mind never gave way to vanity. Wisdom was a quality Loki valued over anything else, if only because it was so seldom found in any Realm.
The text said the brand disappeared during the early nineties of the 21st Century, but Loki had been prepared in case such a thing happened, and all his personal wealth and financial actives were separate from the firm.
The three humans seemed to have believed him or, at least, Erik didn't have any argument against his story, which was better than nothing. Darcy asked him several questions to create an identity for him, starting with the birth certificate. It was good luck that New York still existed, as well as its university, and that degrees in law were still in vogue. With such short lifespan, one never knew what could happen the next hundred years.
Once the data was complete, Darcy announced happily that he was Robert Conrad Norwood again, and that he only had to apply for new physical documents since he had "lost" the original ones.
His identity solved, Darcy proposed to treat Robert for some breakfast, since she was sure he must have been starving. Erik said nothing beyond a noncommittal grunt as he was on his feet, while Jane simply took his jacket and headed for the door before anyone did.
Breakfast was anything but silent, except for Jane; even Selvig engaged in conversation, as table manners demanded. The man seemed to have left aside his prejudices, or maybe he wanted to adopt a more subtle tactic and get to know him through conversation.
Loki couldn't help stealing some glances at Jane. She had only ordered a coffee which sat, untouched, still steaming on the table. He couldn't help feeling sorry for the girl (an adult woman by human standards, but to him she was just beginning to live): being on the brink of a History changing discovery, to see that it was nothing but a case of list inheritances that newspapers liked so much. "Robert" wished he could tell her she was right, but it wouldn't do.
At least not for the moment.
But fate had it that trouble would keep following him wherever he went. Several townspeople, regular clients judging how they greeted the owner, entered the café. One of them, a burly middle aged man, approached the table, and told Jane some men in black suits were dismantling her laboratory and loading everything in trucks. The young scientist sprung to her feet and dashed out of the café; Darcy and Erik interchanged a brief glance before hurrying after Jane, and Loki had no other option except chasing after them.
True to what the men at the café had said, men in black suits and sunglasses were busy loading Jane's equipment in several trucks. They moved with the precision of an army, and Loki observed that each and every one of them were trained for combat. He also observed that were women among them, but their identical clothes and their grooming made them almost identical too their male colleagues.
When he arrived, Jane had already stormed inside the building and was voicing quite loudly her displeasure at who appeared to be the leader.
The man was of average build. In fact, everything about him looked average to the untrained eye: Just another bureaucrat doing as he was told. He stood with his hands neatly folded before him, showing a polite smile, rehearsed to perfection, completely undaunted by the small woman's display of fury. That man couldn't fool Loki, or any other who knew their way around combat or politics: That man was dangerous.
"Miss Foster," he said with a soft voice. "I'm Agent Coulson, with SHIELD."
Loki didn't know anything about modern intelligence agencies, but something in that name made Selvig jump to Jane and pull her aside to whisper something in her hear.
"I don't care who they are," she said aloud, stubbornly shaking away from Selvig's grasp. "This is my life's work! You can't do this!"
Coulson had made a sign when Selvig pulled Jane aside, and two men stood right behind Loki and Darcy. He felt his muscles tense. This was neither the place nor the moment for a fight.
"We're investigating a security threat," Coulson continued before Jane could keep with her protests. "We need to appropiate your equipment and all your atmospheric data."
"By appropriate you mean steal?"
Coulson produced a blank check and gave it to Jane, but that didn't seem to placate her.
"This should more than compensate you for your trouble," he said.
"I can't buy replacements!" she roared. "I made most of the equipment myself!"
"Then you can build them again," Coulson retorted calmly. Despite being talking to Jane, his eyes never left Loki, who noticed how the two men at his back edged closer.
"You don't get it!" she yelled, flailing her arms in frustration. "We are on the verge of understanding something extraordinary! Everything I know about this phenomenon is in this lab and in this book," she said, almost shoving sais book in Selvig's face. "No one has the right to take it from me."
As if to add insult to injury, Coulson made a sign with his hand to passing agent, who snatched the notebook from Jane's hand in one fluid movement. Jane made to lunge at the man, but Selvig grabbed her shoulders.
"As for you, Mister John Doe," Coulson said with polite coldness. "You must accompany us."
"Why?" Jane roared.
"He might be involved in the security threat I mentioned before, Doctor Foster, as you and your team already suspected," he said locking an icy glare on her.
"Actually-"
Darcy's voice was cut by Selvig. Loki smiled wryly at Coulson, but his gesture was due to Erik's impatience at getting rid of him.
He stepped forward and, when he was at Jane's side, he whispered: "Search for the ancient legends of Asgard and the Bifrost for the time being. Sometimes science mingles with myth."
"Mister Coulson," he turned to the agent, mustering his most civil voice. "I'm glad that you, of all people take interest in my situation, and I hope we can help each other."
The agent's smile faltered but an instant. Soon he composed himself and ushered him to a black vehicle, where he would be escorted to their encampment. His heart dropped a bit when he saw Jane covering her face and Selvig trying to comfort her. Loki had done what was in his power to help her, and wondered if their paths would cross again.