Chapter Text
That was stupid.
He could barely think. The force that held his consciousness was too great, he could not resist the infinity stone no matter how much he wished to. Loki felt more like a guest in his own body than its owner. He was aware of his actions and words only on the edge of consciousness.
However, that was enough.
Mas-He could not even imagine that he had failed to truly take possession of him. He was blindly certain that he had broken Loki, that he would not even have the desire to resist his plans, that he had voluntarily become His puppet and would remain inactive. It was a catastrophic miscalculation on His part, but it was not as though Loki was greatly upset by this. He had been underestimated his entire life, it was nothing new.
The mind stone had not been able to fully take possession of him, so he had managed to sabotage the invasion plan as much as he was capable of. He had no idea how to rid himself of its influence, Loki understood perfectly well that all his time in Midgard he was being watched, so he could not simply come and surrender, completely failing the mission. Most likely they would have realized their mistake and strengthened the control, turning him into a mindless puppet, and then the mortals would not have had a single chance. He could not risk it, the tesseract and the scepter must never fall into His hands. Perhaps he was a coward, but even he could not allow this. The price was too great even for Loki.
Despite many of his actions, he had never truly wished to harm those around him. To give the Titan possession of two infinity stones meant the deaths of billions of innocents. Perhaps he was a monster, yet His ideas were unthinkable. Loki was ready to risk everything to avoid this outcome, it was unacceptable.
He was sincerely sorry that because of his actions many people had still died. He had tried to get by with as few casualties as possible, yet he was too afraid that if They suspected him even for a second, it would be even worse. If only he could have avoided this, then Loki would have done everything differently without hesitation. But there was no other way out, or perhaps he simply had not found it. The sacrifices were necessary to save millions, no matter how much it destroyed Loki. Such rhetoric was similar to Mas-Him and Norns, how he hated it.
Kill billions to balance the universe. What nonsense.
He remembered every lecture on this topic. Ebony Maw loved the sound of his own voice only slightly less than his master. Every time he rummaged through his head he endlessly spoke of His greatness and of how He would bring balance to the universe. No matter how much Loki wished not to remember this, it had been burned into his subconscious. Most likely this was done intentionally, so that he would never dare forget.
Loki hated that he had been forced to remember every word from those lectures. Perhaps many thought that it was he who had gone mad, but they had simply never encountered true insanity. His rhetoric was exactly that.
Thanks to the remaining untouched fragment of his consciousness, he made his invasion plan as foolish as he could without arousing suspicion. His strategy teachers would have fainted if they had ever learned how he had planned everything, for what idiot would show off so openly and catastrophically underestimate his own enemies.
First he introduced himself and immediately made clear where he came from. Norns, how he hoped that this would attract Heimdall's attention, hoped that his attempt to remove the concealing spells a year ago had succeeded. Even if it meant that most likely he had seen everything, they had all seen and done nothing. For that would have meant they had abandoned him, considered that he deserved all of This. He remembered perfectly the expression on his brother's face when he had thrown him off the rainbow bridge, yet he still hoped for his mercy…
No, he should not think about that.
He was fortunate ( or not ), Thor still came for him, which meant Midgard had a greater chance of standing firm. Perhaps he was even grateful to Odin for considering the defense of Midgard a worthy task for his royal family.
So the spell had indeed been removed.
Loki truly tried. He made his every step more and more obvious, spoke though confusingly, yet practically directly guiding them along his own doomed plan. Despite the stupidity of the mortals and a couple of deaths that could have been avoided, they still saw through his plan.
Norns, he would never have thought he could feel gratitude toward mortals.
Despite the whole situation, opening a portal right on Stark's building amused Loki. He understood perfectly well that this was the most visible place, and even if the ones who called themselves the avengers had not understood his plan, they would have found him quickly in any case.
As for Thor, it was even insulting that he had not understood. At some point he had dared to hope that he would realize something was wrong with him. It was a foolish and unacceptable hope. He thought he had long since destroyed it back There, it was unacceptable if he wanted to survive. Hope only drove one mad and led to disappointment.
However his bro-Thor simply chalked it all up to madness.
Loki understood perfectly well that this was for the best. If Thor had seen through him, then he would have had to explain a great deal. He would have had to speak of what should never have been said aloud. No. That was the last thing he would have wanted in his life.
Deceiving himself was pointless. The Sanctuary had distorted his memories of what he had done before his fall, but not enough for him to fail to understand the overall picture. No other reaction was even worth expecting. He had tried to kill him, which he regretted. In that moment he had been too angry to think clearly, and he had paid for it.
He would never admit it, but in part he understood Thor's actions. He would have destroyed everyone if he had not subdued him and thrown him into the abyss. And yet, Thor's cold face as he watched him fall into the void… It was May's favorite memory, he had seen it hundreds of times.
It was strange that Thor had mourned, Loki nearly ruined his own plans when he heard all those false words about home and family.
And if Thor had realized that Loki didn’t really want to succeed, he would have immediately exposed it and destroyed his entire plan. This was a bad liar, He would see through him. He was not certain that his supposed brother was capable of stopping him, fighting Loki and His army at the same time was beyond his strength. The last thing Loki wanted was to become a weapon for killing his family, even if it was not real and even if he no longer considered Thor family.
Even if they had betrayed him, somewhere deep down he cared. No matter how much he wished not to admit it.
When they came for him, he did not dare rejoice. It was not yet time. They still had to win.
He thought for a long time about how to remove himself from the equation. Loki knew that Barton had managed to rid himself of the scepter's control, however the influence of the mind stone was not as great on him as it was on Loki. It had not been pressed directly to his head—
No, he definitely did not want to remember that. Not now, never or ever again.
Loki managed to figure out that a strong blow to the head could in theory help him at least weaken the control. Though in his case there were no guarantees. Angering the Beast was foolish. Reckless. Idiotic. But at that moment it seemed like the only way out.
It was stupid, but it worked.
The Beast left, saying something as a parting shot that Loki did not manage to make out. He felt that the control over him had finally weakened. Despite the pain throughout his body, a couple of broken bones and numerous bruises, he was finally free. His actions and thoughts now belonged to him, and the connection with the scepter was severed.
He could not believe that it had worked.
In his mind there was finally silence. The blue color that had clouded his consciousness and the constant whispering in his ear, all of it was gone. He no longer felt Them, nor the scepter's control. He was free. Loki could not help himself and broke into a smile, sincere for the first time during his entire stay in Midgard.
Loki tried to rise from the hole in the floor, however he quickly realized that this was a bad idea. Something inside him immediately protested and responded with pain. He groaned and leaned back. Despite the fact that the control had vanished, his head ached fiercely. It interfered with thinking, and he needed a plan.
He reached for his seidr, only to recoil a second later from yet another searing pain. Loki closed his eyes to somehow focus. Magic had always been an inseparable part of himself, even knowing that he would hardly be able to use it now, he could not help reaching for it instinctively. It was like ceasing to breathe.
Even while under the scepter's control, Loki constantly instinctively tried to reach for his seidr and each time the same result awaited him. Pain. It was another part of himself that He had taken.
Loki was no longer entirely certain why his own magic rejected him. Whether it was the effect of the mind stone, which had broken something within him, or the constant pain, which in theory could have done something to his perception of seidr. Though the reason could also be simpler, he did not even remember when he had last eaten. Perhaps it was even before all of This, in the place he no longer dared call home. If the Aesir ( which he was not even part of ) could live for months without food, experiencing only discomfort related to weight loss, hunger and possibly some loss of physical strength, then for those born with the innate ability to control seidr everything was far more complicated. Magic needed to be fueled with energy, if it did not receive it, it began to take the life force and strength of the seidrmadr. It was not the most pleasant process.
Seidr was inextricably linked to the blood system of those who were born able to sense it. It penetrated every artery and capillary in his body. Ever since childhood Loki had been frightened with tales of what would happen if he stopped fueling his own energy. Probably all children who studied the magical arts heard numerous stories of how inexperienced young sorcerers died from this. He had never considered just how painful it was. Being unable to use a part of yourself was already unbearable, and feeling pain on top of it did not make the situation any better.
He was tired of the constant pain.
He was fortunate that he had managed to project a couple of simple illusions in front of the mortals. Loki remembered perfectly well how much it had exhausted him and that he had barely stayed on his feet back then in Germany. However the show had been necessary and he knew it.
That did not make the process any more pleasant.
Without the ability to cast even the simplest spell, Loki could not heal even a portion of the wounds the Beast had inflicted on him, not to mention those he had received before that. Loki had managed to function and fight only thanks to the scepter. It had not only controlled him, but also given him strength, helping him recover from Their wounds. He had managed to heal only a part of them, and the Beast's attack had certainly not helped his recovery.
Loki once again tried to rise, leaning on his arms, this time managing to suppress a groan. Despite the fact that the edges of his vision had dangerously begun to darken, he carefully sat up, trying not to disturb the broken ribs that were in no hurry to heal even thanks to his accelerated regeneration. Or rather what remained of it. He was no longer certain that his body was capable of healing as quickly as before.
Loki did manage to stand, even though he nearly lost his balance in the very first second. He needed at least to get out of the hole in the floor, after that he would come up with a plan. He had not dared risk earlier, fearing that He would immediately understand his scheme.
The first steps were difficult for Loki, however on the fifth, or sixth, he still failed to hold on and fell onto the stairs. Black spots once again dangerously danced before his eyes. He could not pass out right now. He was not finished yet, not now.
With difficulty turning over, trying not to disturb his own ribs, Loki directed his gaze toward the window. Outside the explosions had practically died down, perhaps they had indeed won. He allowed himself a faint smile, it seemed his plan had worked. At some point he had stopped believing in it. The mortals were not as useless as he had thought. Perhaps he had even begun to understand Thor and his attachment to them, though he was not ready to admit it.
He needed to sit for a couple of minutes, just a little rest. He would definitely get out and come up with something. Just five minutes, he was so tired.
Just a little.
Loki closed his eyes, hoping that he would manage to focus. He needed to clear his thoughts.
Hardly anyone from the nine realms would be ready to shelter him, even if he could use his magic. They would all immediately run to Odin as soon as he announced a reward for his head. Hardly anyone would be able to shelter him, he needed to run…
There will be no realm, no barren moon, no crevice where he cannot find you. You think you know pain? He will make you long for something as sweet as pain.
He needed to come up with something, however the worsening headache only further confused his thoughts. He needed to run, but where and how?
He did not know how long he had sat like that when he heard noise in front of him. Loki opened his eyes and saw that he was surrounded. This upset him less than he had expected. It meant that his plan had indeed worked successfully and he had won ( at least from his own point of view ). He had escaped from Him and was now outside His reach. The portal was closed. Whatever happened to him next clearly could not be worse. Most likely Odin would execute him for treason. It was not that he desired death, perhaps he had even begged for it There, many times, however his talent for survival had worked against him this time.
However this was better than the alternative. They might simply lock him up until the end of his days in the dungeons of Asgard, where he would eventually go mad and be forgotten, as the chief shame of the royal family, erased from history.
This was better than ending up There again, but he would still have preferred death over centuries of madness in solitude.
Loki sighed heavily and said the first thing that came to mind.
"If it's all the same to you, I'll have that drink now."
For a split second he was certain that one of them would still attack him, Loki would have bet on Barton. One look from him could have killed anyone at that moment.
But no.
They were heroes, after all.
Apparently assuming that Loki no longer posed a threat, they lowered their weapons and relaxed somewhat. He did not bother listening to their conversation, but merely closed his eyes. Focusing on the surrounding world was becoming harder and harder, and the headache was not going anywhere.
He felt someone lift him by the shoulders and barely restrained himself from flinching. Something inside him was still not right and the sudden movement echoed with sharp pain. Loki opened his eyes again and saw Thor in front of him. On his face anger was mixed with disappointment.
"Stay still," having said this, Thor stepped away from him and, without taking his eyes off him, walked over to the counter. It was a miracle that Loki did not fall to the floor again without support, he had to put all his effort into not swaying forward. He quickly realized what Thor intended to do. Behind the counter were crates from which he could clearly sense the energy of Asgard. He had not noticed it immediately, most likely because of the scepter's influence, it had not only clouded his mind, but also dulled his senses. What remained of his seidr was not helping the situation much.
When Thor took heavy cuffs out of the crate Loki merely sighed heavily, trying to calm the panic that their appearance evoked in him. Very many races had sought a way to suppress magic, and if for those who acquired it with age this was not so difficult, then innate magic could not simply be suppressed. It was merely a slow torture that over time killed the bound seidrmadr. The suppression of seidr, which was inextricably linked not only to the blood system but also to the life force of sorcerers, was forbidden and applied in very rare cases. Loki had experienced it once and would never want to find himself bound in them again.
Thor approached him with an even gloomier face. He knew perfectly well the consequences of his actions, however it did not seem as though Thor hesitated.
"This is necessary," Thor did not look him in the eyes.
Looking into his brother's face was still difficult. Each time he merely saw that cold expression that receded with every second of his fall. Some part of his soul still hoped that this part of his memories had been distorted, replaced and ruined. However hope was dangerous and he did not dare think about it.
Even despite the fact that certain words from his once brother threatened to nurture this hope.
"Do not pretend that this does not bring you pleasure," Loki smiled.
Loki knew that resisting was already pointless, so he weakly extended his hands forward, trying not to disturb the broken bones. Despite the fact that the dull pain intensified slightly with the movement, he managed not to betray this with a single reaction and his face still wore the same joyless smirk. Though it was hardly necessary, Thor was not even looking at him.
When the cuffs were fastened on Loki's wrists, he felt the headache intensify slightly, however he pushed this to the back of his mind. He had endured worse. Loki felt the remnants of his seidr, which he had managed to restore, begin to evaporate once again, he knew it would be this way, however Loki still felt a stab of despair. He had only just managed to return at least a tiny piece of himself and it was being taken away again.
Thor stepped away from him toward his new friends, still without looking at him. He walked over to the scepter and handed it to Stark, saying something about how it needed to be securely hidden and not kept in the same room as Loki.
Perhaps Loki could have told the whole truth right now, explained his intentions and why there was simply no other way. However, who would believe him?
God of Mischief and Lies was too telling a title. Hardly would they even listen to him. The mortals had no reason to believe him, they knew him as a psychopath who craved attention. Loki himself had made them believe in this image. Thor… Loki remembered poorly their conversations over the past couple of days, however hardly would he have listened to him. Snake prince, monster, jotun.
When I'm king, I'll hunt the monsters down and slay them all!
Loki winced faintly, these words he remembered by heart. The other had taken care that Loki would never forget who he truly was and had more than once shown what fate awaited him if he hoped he was something else. He did not even need to come up with anything, in his memories there was already everything necessary. Thor would hardly trust a frost giant, even if he had once called Loki his brother. He had already demonstrated this perfectly through his own actions.
If he was fortunate ( or not ), he would be sent to Odin. He could try to tell him. The Titan was a serious threat and the Asgardians should know that he had begun to act. However Loki suspected that he had managed to slow him down. He had lost the only infinity stone he possessed and would hardly make another attempt in the near future. And when that happened, Loki planned to be as far away from it as possible.
If he was fortunate, he would manage to escape, if not, then he could avoid it at least in the next world.
However he was still not certain that Odin did not already know this. And even if he revealed the reason for his own actions, it would not cancel the destruction of the bifrost and treason. Moreover, according to Asgard's rhetoric, he should have rather died than betray them and attack Midgard. So even if by some miracle they believed him, the same fate would still await him as if he had remained silent. And he had no particular desire to speak of the events of the past year.
As for his mat-Frigga, he preferred not to think about it. After what he had done, hardly would she continue to consider him her son. They had shown him this more than once and no matter how he tried to deny it, each time it was harder and harder. Despite the fact that he would have given much to see her at least once more, he would also have preferred not to meet her at all. It was easier that way. Loki was not certain that he could bear her renouncing him.
Loki was not certain how much time had passed while he was pondering. He still managed to remain in a standing position, though with every second it became harder and harder.
At some point even more people arrived at the building. These were in suits and most likely represented Midgard's authorities. It was not difficult to understand from the way they treated those who had just saved their city. Coldly, distantly and even without gratitude. Loki watched as they took the scepter. The tension he had not even suspected he felt finally eased when it was at last placed in a case and the case was closed. The energy of the stone was still felt in the air, but at least he did not have to see it.
Thor apparently finished his conversation with the mortals and turned to him, still not looking him in the eyes. Coming a little closer, he spoke.
"You will be brought to trial in Asgard for your treason. We will depart soon, and until then you will be under guard here."
He fell silent for a few seconds and still looked Loki in the eyes. In them anger could be read and… Exhaustion? Loki decided he would ponder this later.
"Do not even try to escape, do not make everything worse. You know what the cuffs will do to you if you try to use magic. And even if you succeed, I will find you wherever you hide."
He would have laughed if it were not so pathetic. Escape. With cuffs, without magic, with a body that barely held him upright. Thor either overestimated him, or did not understand just how bad everything was.
____________
Loki remembered poorly how he was transported to the cell. Pain from various parts of his body overloaded his consciousness, so he spent practically all his strength simply on remaining conscious. It was a matter of survival, unconscious he would be completely defenseless. He had learned this lesson long ago.
On the edge of consciousness Loki understood that Thor was with him all this time. As they walked he held him by the shoulder, apparently fearing that he still had a trick up his sleeve and would try to escape. He was not certain how to feel about this. However if he could have escaped, he would have already done so. Loki was beginning to regret that he had not thought his plan through beyond his own defeat, though he knew perfectly well that otherwise it was impossible. It was a risk he could not afford.
Apparently he was being taken somewhere, he remembered that he was surrounded by people with weapons and apparently Thor was still with him. The more time passed, the less certain he was of his own perception and memories. He had no idea how much time had passed, however in the end he was forcibly led into a building that he did not even manage to properly examine, led through a couple of corridors and brought into a room.
Loki made a rookie’s mistake and failed to remember the path by which he was led. He managed to return to some semblance of consciousness when he was already in the cell alone, apparently Thor had decided that Loki would not manage to escape and his presence was not required.
It was a simple concrete room, no more than ten paces in length and width. On the far wall glass could be seen, Loki suspected that right now he was being watched from the other side in addition to the camera that hung in the corner of the room. On the right side a bed was located, if it could be called that. It was a concrete ledge in the wall on which a thin mattress and a single pillow had been placed.
Thor supporting his balance was no longer beside him, so he did not want to risk remaining in a standing position. On unsteady legs he walked toward the bed, which despite all its wretchedness was the best option for him in the past year.
Trying not to disturb anything inside him, Loki lowered himself onto the mattress and leaned his back against the concrete wall behind him. As soon as he managed to sit down, he felt just how tired Loki had been all this time. He could finally rest and for the first time in a long while.
A very long while.
Loki closed his eyes, hoping that this would help ease the headache at least a little. Severing the connection with the scepter was not the most pleasant thing, and the cuffs on his hands were not helping much. However this was better than all-consuming control, so he did not dare complain.
The long-awaited silence enveloped him. Not simply the absence of sound, the absence of presence. Of that pressure on the back of his neck that had become so habitual that he had stopped noticing it. Now that it was gone, Loki felt empty. Phantom pain where someone else used to be.
He would never admit this aloud, but the Beast… helped. In some absurd, cruel way. For the first time he had tried to act like Thor, not to think through his own actions and to give in to a senseless risk. Loki would have smirked if it had not echoed with pain in his ribs. Perhaps, for the first time in his life, the most effective plan had turned out to be the most primitive.
He ought to be angry. At the Beast, at Thor, at himself. But anger required strength, and there was no strength. Only tired, exhausted gratitude remained and that was almost worse. At least hatred was familiar. He knew what to do with it.
Loki brought his hands to his face and rubbed his eyes. He was glad of the silence, sincerely glad, however it pressed on him. There it was practically never quiet for him, the space was filled either with his own screams, or with the ceaseless noise of engines, or with the endless chattering of the chitauri. However foolish it might be, Loki was glad that he was practically never left in silence. It helped him focus and not sink into his own thoughts.
Now he was left to himself, without the ability not to think, even if it caused pain. To think meant to remember, and that he feared more than anything in the world. Memories were his enemies, they crept through the walls he had erected around himself and threatened to destroy everything.
Loki tore his hands from his face and looked at them.
Too thin. Too pale, even for him. On his left wrist a red mark from the cuff that was in no hurry to heal. These were his hands. He knew it. But they seemed foreign, as though the body had lived its own life for the past year and he had only now returned to it.
And it was not glad to see him.
His ribs responded with dull pain at every breath. Loki was not certain how many of them were broken, two? three? He had no desire to check. He had long ago learned not to touch what hurts. His body would recover on its own after some time. It always recovered.
Loki understood perfectly well that he ought to start thinking through an escape plan, he had no desire whatsoever to remain in the Mortals' cell. However he needed something to latch onto. His magic was suppressed, and he strongly doubted that even without the cuffs he would be able to use it. And even if he could, he was bound by ancient magic, even in his best years he would hardly have been able to break the spell placed on them.
Loki also could not rely on his own physical strength. Perhaps he was stronger than ordinary mortals and their bullets would hardly be able to harm him. However he could barely walk, not to mention escaping from a secured building. And he had nowhere to run, no matter how much he tried to think of who could help him, nothing particularly came to mind. Of course he could try to hide on distant backwater planets and surely he would manage it. However on which ones exactly…
How difficult it was to think.
Even understanding that he had little time, Loki found it very hard to concentrate. Loki felt his consciousness slipping away from him more and more. He could not allow this, he could not pass out right here. He did not have time for it.
However the exhaustion of the past year had taken its toll and he fell into darkness.
____________
Loki awoke to the sound of the door opening. He had passed out in a seated position and jerked when he came to, which he immediately regretted. His broken ribs instantly protested and responded with pain. However, to his surprise, Loki discovered that the headache had become somewhat easier. Perhaps the idea of passing out had not been so terrible, though he could hardly have done anything to prevent it at that moment.
He slowly shifted his eyes to the door and raised an eyebrow in surprise when he saw the man in the doorway. The door closed behind him.
"You know, I've had a bad day."
Stark. Without the suit. In a t-shirt with some absurd inscription that Loki did not bother to make out. Hands in his pockets. In his gaze anger was reflected, unmistakably directed at Loki.
Loki blinked. Slowly. His head responded with a dull residual ache.
"A week," Stark continued. "A year, if I'm being honest. And here I stand, looking at you and thinking: this guy threw me off a tower."
"Perhaps," Loki said, and his voice came out hoarse, "that was not my wisest decision."
"Ah, well that changes everything." Stark did not smile. "I feel significantly better."
Loki smirked. Throwing Stark out the window had been an impulse he was not proud of. He had not even been certain whether the man would survive at that moment, he had simply hoped that Stark would not show up to him unarmed and unprepared. He had been right, however it did not lessen his irritation toward Stark.
"You know, reindeer games, I want to clarify something right away. If you so much as move a finger in my direction, a whole platoon of elite units will come running in here. And that is not the most pleasant experience, believe me." Saying this, Stark first pointed at the cameras and the double glass, and then at the door behind him.
"As if they would manage to do anything," he grinned broadly and looked Stark directly in the eyes. He noticed something flicker in the other's eyes, however he was too tired to identify what it was.
"Spare me the pathos."
It irritated him that he was underestimated. Even in this state he could surely have snapped Stark's neck in a fraction of a second. However he was used to being underestimated and had learned to accept it as an advantage. Loki had never shown his true strength even once during his entire failed ( successful? ) invasion.
Stark did not continue the conversation, but simply stood silently and looked at Loki. It was irritating, he would have preferred to know why they had come to interrogate him.
"What?"
"Well, I stand here and think, do you really take us for complete idiots? Seems like this has already ended badly for you. Where is the scepter?" Stark's gaze seemed scorching.
The scepter? Loki did not like where this conversation was going.
"I beg your pardon?" Loki smiled again and managed to keep his voice steady and not let the nascent panic out.
"You know, I actually came here as the good cop, of course I did not think it would help, but I could not help but try. Fury's methods… not that I approve of them," Stark frowned. "Where did you put the scepter? It disappeared about half an hour ago, the case turned out to be empty."
So it had indeed been stolen, that did not bode well. Loki kept a neutral expression, he could not give in to emotions and give the mortals even more reasons for suspicion. He had no idea who could have taken the mind stone. He and His army were out of reach, unless the mortals themselves had stolen it and wanted to pin all the blame on him.
"I have no idea what you are talking about," Loki shrugged. "Can mortals not hold onto anything for more than a day."
"You killed five more people, in addition to what you arranged in New York. Is it simply never enough for you?" Stark tensed.
"Stark, perhaps if you used what is between your ears, you would understand that I have not left this room the entire time. You have cameras and you know this perfectly well. So why come to me?" This conversation irritated Loki more and more, he needed to think. In silence.
"You think we will seriously believe that? You are supposedly a specialist in illusions. Your brother made sure we understood that," Loki suppressed the urge to correct Stark, Thor was not his brother. "And you could have ordered your people to take it before the attack in case of defeat. Only you miscalculated and got stuck with us."
For a second Loki had the thought that he really should have done so, since the scepter ought to have been destroyed. However the mortals did not have the technology that could harm an infinity stone.
"I do not care whether you believe me or not, Stark. The scepter is no longer within the sphere of my interests, its disappearance is not my doing." Loki looked away, signaling that the conversation was over.
He understood perfectly well that they would not believe him. Loki would not have believed himself if he had been in their place. Whatever he said, however he behaved, whether he told the whole truth or not, the result would remain the same. It was not even worth his effort, he had no desire whatsoever to be obliging with the mortals, especially with Stark.
"Not within the sphere of interests?" In Stark's voice surprise and disbelief could be heard. "A day ago you showed zealous devotion to the stick."
So a day had passed, he had not expected to pass out for that long.
Loki merely shrugged, he had no desire whatsoever to continue the conversation. The disappearance of the scepter alarmed him more than he thought. No matter how much he wished to believe that it was simply the mortals' fault, perhaps He… No, that was impossible.
He was free. He had managed to escape.
"Hey, are you even listening to me?" Loki blinked and shifted his gaze back to Stark, apparently the man had been talking to him all this time.
"Alright, as I already said, I do not approve of Fury's methods. But you do not want to make our lives at least somewhat easier," Stark put one hand behind his head. "If you change your mind, and I advise you to change your mind, you can simply say it out loud, big brother is always watching."
After these words, the door slammed shut behind Stark and Loki found himself alone. Perhaps he could have extracted more useful information from Stark, he certainly ought to have done so, however exhaustion and pain were still pressing on his head, not allowing him to think clearly. The only thing he wanted was for him to leave as soon as possible.
He was not certain why exactly the man of iron had come to interrogate him. Loki had expected the widow rather, or at the very least his enraged not-brother. That Stark had come was curious. He suspected that he had come of his own volition, rather than by order.
Loki had studied each of the avengers thanks to the reports Barton had provided him. He had done this not so much to understand how to defeat them, as he had convinced Them, but to understand how to unite them. Stark was a complicated case, hardly would he submit to the commands of the one-eyed man. Loki would not have been surprised if he had shown up at his cell in defiance of every layer of security.
And yet coming without the armor was foolish. No matter how much Stark irritated him, he reluctantly acknowledged that the man was not as stupid as the rest of his team. Apparently he had been mistaken after all.
Despite the fact that Loki hoped to be left alone to properly think over the situation with the scepter, once he found himself in silence he discovered that he had no desire whatsoever to think about that cursed thing. He sincerely hoped that it had disappeared from the face of the earth forever, though that was impossible.
Loki was certain that Thor and his team of mortals would deal with it. He was tired and out of the game. He had already done everything possible to avoid catastrophe, the avengers should not expect greater help from him.
As for an escape plan, Loki would in no way be able to escape from here. Not in the cursed cuffs and not with injuries like these. Perhaps he could try to talk one of the guards into something, however the cameras would surely quickly foil such a plan. The only chance Loki saw was if they were to transfer him, which would most likely happen. He needed only a chance and Loki was ready to wait. That place had taught him this thoroughly.
Loki closed his eyes again and leaned his head against the wall behind him.
The silence did not last long. Maybe an hour, maybe more or less. It was difficult to maintain a sense of time in a cell. Loki had practically lost this ability There.
Above Loki's head an explosion sounded. The whole room shook slightly, which caused a new stab of pain.
Something was wrong.
Something was very much wrong.
Loki opened his eyes and stared at the door. He heard a group of people run past it, most likely armed judging by how heavy their gait was. He had possessed heightened hearing since childhood, unfortunately only a year ago he had learned the reason for this.
In the distance shots were heard, Loki tensed. In this state he was unarmed. Hardly would the mortals have put him in the same building as the tesseract, so there could be no other reason for all of this. Whoever it was, they had come for him.
Perhaps they were vigilantes who had learned where he was being held and wanted to carry out their own justice. However attacking a military facility, no, there was something wrong here.
First the scepter, now this. Loki frowned when he realized that the shots were getting closer and closer to him. He heard neither peals of thunder, nor the sound of repulsors. The situation was becoming worse with every second. Loki tried to stand, however he quickly abandoned this idea when a sharp pain forced him to exhale. The longer he remained in a standing position, the faster he would tire. And that could turn against him. Loki did not want to give yet another advantage to whoever had come for him.
In the corridor everything suddenly went quiet. At some point. Loki heard the door on the other side begin to open. Slowly and methodically.
Time froze. Loki tensed his legs so that he would be able to spring up and attack at any moment. Approaching to a close distance without knowing the enemy was risky, so he did not move from his spot.
The door finally opened.
No.
No. No. NO.
Proxima Midnight.
This was not supposed to happen. He had escaped. He was free of the control.
"Did you truly think you could get away from us, little prince?"
Loki froze, not daring to decide what to do next. She held the scepter in her hands, which gave her an undeniable advantage over him. However even so, he was not going to surrender. He needed to talk to her, let her come closer and try to snatch the scepter from her hands.
He would never return There again.
Never.
"How did you even end up here?" It took him great effort not to let his voice tremble.
"Oh, brother," she spat this word out and grinned predatorily, slowly heading toward him. "Our father doubted you, so he sent me in advance to back you up if you failed. Did you really think that all our promises were empty words?"
She was coming closer, this was what Loki needed.
"Perhaps the invasion failed, but I am still capable of delivering the tesseract to father. I need time." He forced himself to smile.
"I am afraid your time has run out."
She took another step and came within his reach. He sprang up sharply, trying not to pay attention to the pain with this movement, and grabbed the scepter just below the mounting of the stone and pulled it toward himself, putting in maximum strength, while simultaneously reaching with his second hand toward Proxima to push her away.
However he was severely depleted, so Proxima managed to easily kick him away from the scepter, throwing him back onto the cot. For a second Loki's vision blurred, however he could not pass out. He needed to stall for time, surely the avengers thought he was trying to escape and would come to stop him.
He tried to reach for his own seidr, however merely clenched his teeth from pain when he hit the wall. The cuffs still held the block.
"How did you manage to retrieve the scepter?"
Time, he needed time.
"We always knew where it was, unlike the tesseract, and taking it from this pathetic species cost nothing." She looked at him with contempt. "How could you even lose to such an undeveloped civilization."
Loki merely shrugged. He again tried to lunge at her, trying to bring her down with his weight, however he forgot that even without armor his mass was clearly inferior to hers. So it cost her nothing to throw him to the floor and press the sharp end of the scepter to his neck.
"You never learned anything, almost a pity."
This simply could not be happening. The world spun in colors from the pain and the horror of the situation, which had only just begun to reach him. There were still no sounds from the corridor. No one was coming, and time was running out.
He was alone.
He had no one to wait for help from.
This was a nightmare. She would take him back There, to Him. He would not survive it. No. Never again.
He would not return, even if it cost him his life.
Loki jerked sharply toward the sharp end of the scepter, smirking victoriously as he looked into Proxima's surprised eyes. Loki did not want to die, however between death and His captivity, he chose death without hesitation. He had long ago accepted that he would not reach the gates of Valhalla, even in his youth he had understood that this was something unattainable.
Everything was fine.
His whole life he had been called a coward for relying on Thor in childhood and hiding behind Frigga's skirts, for mastering the art of seidr ( for it was a woman's craft ), for preferring strategy to senseless battle. He preferred to die a coward rather than find himself There again.
Perhaps he regretted that the last words spoken to his not-real family had been exactly like that. Thor… even despite what he had done. Thor had always been an inseparable part of his life, he was sorry that they had ended this way.
However he did not manage to reach his goal, something struck him on the head from behind and he fell into the void.
____________
He came to on a cold metallic floor. The air around was stale, and his head was ringing from the blow to it. He did not remember how he had ended up in the darkness. His last memory was of the cell. Stark had come, and then….
No.
Loki sharply opened his eyes and looked around.
This was definitely a nightmare. A cruel joke. He was There. This air, the metallic smell that he could not stand. The sounds of the chitauri in the background, which he did not want to remember. The darkness that surrounded him and which he preferred not to think about.
He was in hell.
"Welcome back, child."