I own nothing. Thanks to Shipperwolf for the awesome story "Defeat" (seriously guys, go check it out), thymus on tumblr and Brett Munro for the picture that inspired this story: thymus . tumblr post / 26217382934 and Thy Frozen Lightening for the graphic.
Jane had gotten bored, then thirsty, then she'd gotten lost. Honestly all she was looking for was the coffee maker – any coffee maker – but several wrong turns and her dislike of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents had her avoiding all of the staff rather cagily (and probably all of the coffee). The lack of signage didn't help. Still, she knew she was far from the guest quarters when she saw the barred cells. How did she end up in the Helicarrier brig?
Then again this was the sole person of her generation she'd met with a Ph. D. who couldn't figure out how to change her ring tone. Still, there had to be a post around here and that's where the coffee would be; it's not like they'd taken many prisoners with the battle in New York; which might explain why there weren't any guards on staff.
A stirring deeper in the brig caught her notice and she heard metal dragging and jingling which drew her deeper down the hallway to the very last cell.
Standing as far away as possible to just barely see around the angle of the solid side wall Jane Foster tried to reconcile what was before her. What the…?
A solitary figure was kneeling dejectedly on the bare floor; shoulders slumped, messy, long hair hung lank, obscuring most of the face besides a pale nose and forehead. The black clothing and pitch black locks almost obscured the person entirely with the dark grey walls in the dim lighting. He was obviously male and by his torso tall, but he seemed a study in pity sculpted out of obsidian and marble. The prisoner didn't move but to breathe shallowly.
Confused, she stepped closer to realize that a metal adorned strap wound around his face, blending into his hair and clothes, and that his arms had been secured behind his back a chain leading away: he was cuffed and muzzled while tethered to something deeper in the cell.
He looked like a wolf trapped for the slaughter.
One step nearer revealed the very familiar object said person was chained to: Mjolnir.
With a whisper her mind reminded her that there was only one prisoner taken and in panic she tried to silently retreat, and failed.
The scuff of her boot clad clumsy feet echoed in the stillness, bringing a wince to her face and causing her to freeze. In the same instant Thor's Brother, Loki Odinson of Asgard jolted upright and strained against his fetters only to quickly settle at the sight of her.
Lurid green eyes tried to vivisect her from afar but the tension around them bespoke concealed pain. His shallow breathing had sped up to pants stuffed through his nose and he tore his gaze away to and studiously regarded his bare surroundings.
Jane wasn't a fool; He was injured, badly. And left alone untreated even though he was Thor's brother. Plus he looked awful.
Glancing around she noticed that not only was there no one around but that the cell's door was unlatched or faulty as it was open several inches. Their faith in Mjolnir was warranted but it seemed unnecessarily cruel and altogether foolish. But looking around at the other cell's she could see the brig circuitry must have been damaged in the fight. All the cell's doors hung open; but he was placed back here to be forgotten.
Forcing her muscles to relax she said the first thing that came to mind. "That thing can't be comfortable;" she gestured to the tightly fitted mouthpiece. "Do you want me to remove it, at least for a little while?" Mentally she kicked herself. What are you thinking Jane?
He regarded her carefully for a moment; not unlike a wary panther. With a glint in his eye he nodded, relaxing on his heels.
She wasn't amused. Jet lagged and caffeine deprived wasn't a good combination for her logic or patience it seemed. Drawing closer she entered the cell but stayed at the door. "If you try anything it goes right back in. Otherwise I call the guards. Fair?"
Again, he nodded, this time with almost sincerity in his eyes.
"Don't make me regret this." She muttered as she carefully closed the distance. Standing right in front of him her fears were allayed but her heart was hurting. Thick shackles imbued with runes circled his wrists and secured them together tightly behind his back. His legs – her previous worst concern – had been wrapped in similar chains and also fastened to the mighty hammer. The trickster could barely move, let alone harm her.
He stayed still as a statue, eyes firmly fixed down as she came nearer. With a small "excuse me" she followed the muzzle's strange straps into his hair to find how it was secured.
She didn't want to go anywhere near his hands so she stayed in front of him despite the awkward position and bent gingerly over his shoulder. Finding where the ends met her small fingers examined it, carefully moved his hair away to get a better look; then, with a soft press from her finger the mechanism unlatched and she pulled it from his face.
Once his mouth was free she moved back quickly and he worked his jaw. His breathing relaxed, although still shallow he didn't need to measure it so carefully and she was relieved that she'd ease some of the discomfort and indignity – if only temporarily.
Now he studied her. After a moment he cleared his throat. "You have my thanks."
She nodded. Her behavior was ludicrous but at least he could breathe easier for a time. This close she could see the gory scratches on his face and despite his charming grin Jane could tell he held himself very carefully, but his scrutiny continued.
"How should I address you, Miss…?"
Her palms started to sweat. This was the Trickster, he lived to manipulate and she knew he must have been silenced for a reason. He was also the person who'd supposed threats had forced her to go into hiding with S.H.E.I.L.D. holding the leash. But as a scientist her own real weapon was facts – in a sense, truths.
So she decided to stick with her strengths, and anonymity. "I don't feel comfortable telling you my name."
"That is fair." He nodded, not at all surprised. "I can assume from your lack of uniform that you are not one of S.H.I.E.L.D's personnel but given the circumstances I can't image you are unaware of my actions nor can I fathom your reasons for helping me."
Jane just stood there, holding that awful piece of leather and metal. Just earlier that day her handlers had shepherded her straight to the carrier in unmarked vans without windows, veering from their previously designed destination, and although she'd yet to see the devastation of Manhattan she knew it had been catastrophic. "I'll admit I wasn't present. And while I know of you, I don't know you; that is to say – what do I call you?"
His lips gave a wry twist. "I had rather hoped for a different title but if you must call me something, call me Loki."
"Ok." But Jane didn't have the guts to use it. Instead she braved ahead hoping she wouldn't be made to look entirely foolish. "To answer your question, despite what you've done I see no reason for you not to be treated humanely."
He gave her a sly smile. "But I'm not human, and according to most my actions indeed make me undeserving."
Jane shrugged. "But I am – human, I mean. Was I in a similar place I'd hope for a bit of kindness, if nothing else." He waited for more, eyes shifting like he was uncomfortable. The silence stretched on, jangling her nerves, loosening her tongue. "But then I usually feel guilty for flushing a goldfish."
"Pray tell, what is a goldfish and how does one flush it?" It seems that was preferred topic to morality; not that she minded.
"Well," gosh this was asinine; but then it wasn't like she was giving away state secrets. "It's a small orange fish that people keep as pets, when a pet fish dies usually humans dispose of it through the sanitation system."
Loki cocked his head to the side. "Do you often buy pets just to dispose of them?"
She told herself not to blush. "I stopped buying them because I forgot to feed them."
"Ah." He eyed the corner, and cleared his throat again. "Then it's best I'm not in your care for long. Besides, I'm a little large to fit down the toilet."
Utterly confused she fumbled "wha-?"
The glint that had come to his eyes with the muzzle's removal unfurled into a wide grin at his joke. She shook her head trying to hide her smile. She could see how alike he was to Thor – charming, self-assured and playful. Where had the other side come from, when had the arrogant, superior-complex, world-domination part of his personality been brought in to play? Was his experience during Thor's absence just as altering? Because back then, Thor had seemed mystified by his brother's actions as well and that was more disconcerting than ever. Questions she didn't have the nerve to ask ran circles inside her head.
Wetting her lips she cast her eyes around the dismal place. He was tied too tightly to the hammer to use the bunk – not that she could move him – but there was a small sink and a plastic tumbler next to it.
Looking back at him she saw his eyes had followed her own. "Would you like a drink?"
"Yes, but water will have to do." He smirked.
Moving sideways she placed the muzzle on the bunk, careful to keep it face up. She tried her hand at a joke to see how he'd react. "Sorry I don't have access to the wine list."
He huffed, and then gave a sharp intake of breath. Obviously laughing hurt. "Would you call yours a refined pallet?"
Turning the tap she checked the temperature. Not too bad, slightly cool like anywhere else on the carrier. Keeping him in the corner of her eye she filled the tumbler. "Not in the least. I try to stay away from the stuff. It's kinda hard to work with a hangover, plus my nightlife is full of rather different activities than most people."
She cringed. That hadn't sounded bad in her head, but Jane was trying to be vague. He seemed to let it slide, probably because he was thirsty.
This was more complicated. She couldn't help him drink from three feet away. He gave her a toothy grin as her feet had slowed and stopped just out of reach. "I promise not to bite."
A small smile found its way to her lips. Drawing a bit closer she extended her arm, trying to ignore the intimacy his vulnerable position gave.
Eagerly his lips met the rim and she tilted, letting him drink. Due to his shallow breaths she stopped more than once to let him catch his wind but he drained the glass and asked for another.
Once the second was finished he sagged, his movement jangling the chains and shook his head at her offer for a third. "Once again," he looked up through his lashes rather than raising his head. "My thanks."
This whole time she'd kept an ear out for any passersbys, but the Helicarrier was suspiciously low on staff. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Perhaps." He seemed to be getting tired.
"Why are you in the brig like this?" she indicated his chains "I can't believe S.H.E.I.L.D. doesn't have better options than using an alien hammer to restrain people."
"Ah, yes. Their more impressive accommodations were no longer available so I was told to make do. I used that cage on my brother earlier." She tried not to stiffen but Jane had a feeling that he'd seen it. Loki shifted, trying to get more comfortable. "It seems my actions wore their patience thin by being too effective and damaged their pride, hence how you find me."
He tried for a winning smile but it shifted to a grimace and tried vainly to shift away. It was rather impossible.
She grasped the tumbler she'd never returned in both hands. "Look, you're obviously in some …discomfort." That got his attention, his eyes shrewdly meeting her's. "A-and I can't treat anything major but," she took a breath; this was probably stepping over a line further than she'd ever intended "I passed a first aid kit in the hall. If nothing else I can clean up your face."
Her offer dangled in the air between them; his face utterly blank, until his tone cut the air. "I apologize for assaulting your sensibilities with my marred visage; if it's such a strain perhaps you should return to more friendly environs."
Wow mood swing. "That's not it. I know nothing about alien physiology but everything has a limit. Plus it seems it could be some time before …"
He picked up her sentence "anyone remembers me?"
She sighed, "Before you are attended to." That seemed to mollify him somewhat.
Faced with that reality he seemed to return to better humors. "If you are so inclined" he agreed airily to the cell wall, which seemed to release her feet. Setting the cup on the sink she turned to retrieve the case mounted in the hall. The corridor was still eerily empty and she knew she was pressing her luck, or someone had orchestrated this. Coming back with the small kit she found him, of course, unmoved.
As she bent down he stopped her "might I suggest using the blanket?"
"Wouldn't you prefer it instead?" She glanced at his own knees on the hard floor.
"Undoubtedly, however should you want to avoid suspicion any marks on your clothing would be contrary to that purpose."
Now she regarded him shrewdly. "Why the consideration?"
His answer was enigmatic, "Perhaps I hope to see you again should the circumstances permit."
Shaking her head she rose to pull off the scratchy wool blanket from the cot. Folded it, and then finally knelt. Something about his smarmy expression made his oncoming joke click and her anger made her bold "Don't even say it."
"Say what?" He was all eager innocence apart from that too-wide grin which betrayed him.
She leveled him with a glare even though she knew she was pushing it. "I saw what happened in Stuttgart. Not one word."
"Oh if you must" he huffed in false irritation.
Opening the case she took stock and started to lay out supplies. This situation was all wrong, how could he …? She stopped herself. What? Make light of hurting and terrifying others just because he thought himself a deity? Because she was pretty sure that vaulted viewpoint mixed with vain ambition were what landed him here, pummeled and incarcerated.
Despite losing, Jane realized, he has no regrets. She had to remind herself that if the circumstances were different she still would not have found his actions amusing or endearing, let alone in the present.
She refused to turn at his voice. "You're terribly quiet. I wouldn't think less of you for changing your mind; you've already done more than enough."
After Jan had hit Thor multiple times like an idiot and then the destruction in Puente Antiguo she and Darcy had taken a first aid class from the Red Cross in the neighboring town. Her education was extremely basic but it helped out from time to time; it also gave her the eye to read through all of his blustering: she assumed cracked ribs, internal bleeding or both, possibly a spine injury. She could tell he desperately needed medical attention far beyond her skills and found herself further ascribing to Erik's terms of S.H.E.I.L.D. Jack booted thugs seemed appropriate. He should be strapped to a gurney and sedated after being treated.
More questions piled up. Where the heck was Thor? Who leaves their brother like this?
Returning from her thoughts she answered him with a shake of her head. "I said I would and I will; trust me when I say it's the least I can do."
She sensed him stiffen again, but release it quickly. He was definitely hiding internal injuries and his locked position could only do further damage.
"No bandages." Her eyes flew to his, Loki gave a small smirk. "Let's remain circumspect."
"Makes sense." Jane answered with a huff and put away the butterfly sutures. Ripping open a sterile pad she dipped it in the mostly full water cup and turned to face him, steeling herself.
Once again Jane's shortness left her at a disadvantage, she had to raise up on her knees to see her work. His face had become a mask again with eyes staring over her left shoulder and that suited her just fine. In turn Jane chose to block out the moment's insanity and instead brushed back her hair to analyze his face with a critical eye.
It was a patchwork of scraps, cuts and bruises all starkly visible due to his pale complexion; each wound had dirt and dried blood still clinging to it that would need to be loosened and cleaned. Basically, he looked horrible. She decided to go top to bottom and began with a murmured "tell me if this hurts."
Her hands that built and soldered her own equipment were steady as she worked. Putting the least amount of pressure possible she treat each area, one hand on the floor to keep her balance; carefully pressing damp pads to saturate the old clots, then worked on cleaning grit and grime without aggravating each site to resume bleeding. She knew when she came to a particularly bad area as he'd hiss or hold his breath. But he never asked her to stop.
Some areas were inflamed with starting infections which she noted for later and the cut across his nose and below his lips extending to his chin were particularly gruesome. Above his right eye, on his left cheekbone and along his jaw were mottled with bruises and swollen which she treated carefully and avoided if possible. There were signs of healing but nothing like she'd seen with the other Asgardians after the fight with the Destroyer, it seemed his system was overwhelmed with his other injuries. Jane ripped open pad after pad, thankful for the kit's ample supply. There was even some left over when she got to his neck. Caught up in her task she bent to go under his chin to look for more but he evaded her by turning his head.
"Thank you, but that's well enough."
Jane blinked. She found herself right in his personal space, leaning over him – almost in his lap – and backpedaled quickly, looking back to the kit. "Antiseptic?"
"What is that?" His voice held curiosity.
She uncapped the tub and slathered the ointment on a Q-tip. "It helps with infection, and some areas are starting to show signs of it."
"I doubt it would help an AEsir's …" Loki's voice drifted off and she covered for him.
"In my humble opinion it couldn't hurt. Same for the pain killers."
Her opinion was met with a snort. "You truly have nothing better to do it seems. Fine, I acquiesce."
His hiss at its contact told her he regretted it. "Thank you for devising new ways of torture" dripped his voice.
"Healing usually comes with pain." She was quick to finish, dabbing each area softly.
"An apt description for what my rule would have been after conquest." She had a feeling he was barbing her. Instead she rinsed and refilled the cup with new water, dropped the pain pills in his mouth as he angled his head upward gingerly and helped him swallow with a drink. During that time she took advantage of his silence.
"Please don't start. There is no way that conversation will go well." Finished she moved around him to the side.
His head followed her and the tension in his form was back. "What are you doing?" There it was: fear, veiled in an imperious tone. But she chose to ignore it, emboldened by her previous brash behavior.
"There are some pads left over; I'm checking on your hands." Jane had eased down on his side to get a better view. They seemed red and raw, split open with –
He jerked away with a growl, gasping and curling inward from the effort.
"Stop! You're hurting yourse – !"
"Don't." His voice was livid snarl, coated in steel.
"What? But they're –."
"Think for a moment Jane Foster." He hissed, a touch of madness in his eyes. This time she gasped and reeled back, his anger propelling her further. Her knees hit the cot's edge and she found herself scrambling on it until her back met the wall, taking in his wild form and feral glare. This was the Loki she'd heard of and expected to see, the one who reduced others to prey even when caged and chained.
She struggled to keep her wits. "How do you know who I am?"
"I made it my business to know who you are, but my clemency can only extend so far; I have risked much and have little to show for it." His eyes bore into her, forcing her to understand.
The truth dawned on her. He'd let her help him as far as he could without taking advantage of the situation. He wasn't repentant or even resigned. He would use her if he had the chance; but for some reason he'd warned her.
"Why?" She swallowed, trying to regulate her breathing and still her racing heart as she quaked on the cot. Definitely need to work on that, Jane. "If you knew all along why stop now?"
Grunting he angled towards her as much as he could. Those green eyes were no longer tempered or sedate, now sharp and cutting he pinned her with a glance. "I wished to speak with the woman who had such a profound effect on my brother, an effect that has been a mystery to me for quite some time."
She shook her head in denial as her thoughts came back online. "Thor did some growing up and I gave him a place to stay, that's all. But that doesn't explain your actions a moment ago."
"Rules of war dictate such; I would not normally adhere – but you are not a soldier and still you chose to see to my needs, even treating me with dignity when others have not." He took a moment to breath and she gave it to him, both of them swallowing. "I would have some honor left to me when dragged home like a dog, rather than letting desperation have its way."
A quiet fell between them only disturbed by their breathing as the wearily regarded each other, him staggering for breath, kneeling and chained before her, who sat safe but shaking. He honestly didn't trust himself which she found scared her the most. A minute passed, interrupted finally with a far-off clanging and a boisterous voice familiar to them both.
"I'm afraid our time has run out." He nodded to the muzzle. "I hope S.H.E.I.L.D. and their director have been satisfied sufficiently by my ill treatment to afford us to finally leave." She glanced at the cup of water, then the blanket. Wondering if he needed anything else but he interrupted her thought. "You must go. Toss the blanket under the cot."
Ever curious she had to ask. "Why did he leave you here?"
He shook his head, now avoiding her gaze, but she knew it was a refusal to answer not confusion on the person. "Come, there isn't much time." At her hesitancy he persisted. "Allow me this."
That's when she realized, he was asking her to save his pride, allow him to continue his act of control and strength. With a nod she picked up the muzzle, thankful that she hadn't knocked it with her flight.
Approaching him she was at an utter loss for words. She knew he could tell so he took his turn instead. With his charming grin in place he spoke for the last time for possibly quite some time, but there seemed to be a measure of sincerity in his manner. "Farewell Jane Foster of Midgard. I hope to meet again under better circumstances."
She nodded and moved to replace the strange muzzle, but quick as a flash, before she could react past a quick intake of breath, his head darted forward and he kissed the back of her right hand's fingers curled over the strap. Sensing her added reluctance at the act he ruefully gave her a smile. "I promised I wouldn't bite." Then he thrust his head into it despite his cringe and she hurriedly connected the two ends carefully below his hair at nape of his neck, her finger brushing what felt like a scar. With a snap it secured and just as she started to move he pulled back, causing her fingers to trail along each side of his jaw until she shrank away.
He jutted his chin to indicate the first aid supplies and blanket which she gathered quickly without a word, throwing the wool under the bed then returned the cup and left the cell. She looked back at him with a sense of helplessness that was further irrational in their different positions. He waited, he only had time now.
Swallowing she found her words, matching in his formality. "Good bye Loki of Asgard, I can't wish you luck, but I do wish you well."
With a glint in his eye he nodded to the door. Her own grim smile offered, she gave her own nod and turning to go she didn't look back. Her quest for coffee was utterly forgotten.
Maria Hill entered Director Fury's office and stood at attention. As he looked up from his desk to acknowledge her she spoke. "Sir, your suspicion was correct. When not monitored, Jane Foster did leave her quarters and wandered the base. Her path led her to Loki and she interacted with the prisoner. I chose to let it play out while watching the recording."
Concern and intrigue warred in him, Thor was a new ally and he'd hoped to cement his trust by bringing Jane Foster to the carrier, changing her destination enroute since the battle had ended. "Anything useful?"
Hill shifted. "Possibly sir; but they do seem to have an affinity, if nothing else, an understanding. He humored her far more than he should have concerning what we know of him and even warned her against himself."
OK now he was interested, but it still had to be contained. "I'll review the tapes later." With a nod he gave his orders. "Have a patrol intercept Jane Foster on her way back to the guest quarters and secure her there until this blows over. If Thor asks for her reveal her whereabouts and let them meet but not otherwise."
With a salute Hill left and Fury took a moment to puzzle over the new development.
When Thor came barreling in he interrupted Loki's thoughts of Jane and carefully measured breathes. "You are much improved, Loki. I am glad that S.H.I.E.L.D.'s warriors have taken such good care of you."
He gave Thor a look that would curdle cheese. His so-called righteous brother had left him in the hands of his enemies, disgraced and injured to cavort with his new friends. No, they were assuredly not brothers. Although they rarely were on equal footing this time the entire battlefield had laid between them and for once Loki wouldn't have it any other way.
Thor shirked off his levity, replacing it with candor. "Loki I am sorry it has come to this, once we are home this will be straightened out; we need you to tell us your story so we can aid you."
Ah, he thought to himself I am still a child in need of rescuing is it? It's been some time since I clung to your coattails Thor. We shall see if Odin will turn such a blind eye.
Thor regarded him, no doubt seeing he had words to speak. "I would hear your voice brother, even should it pain me."
Reaching around his head he removed the muzzle that it seemed the All-Father himself had commissioned for him. When it was first affixed Loki couldn't help but wonder how long the great patriarch had been waiting to use it. He'd learned that it, just like the ensorcelled shackles wouldn't open for his own hand.
Even with it gone he didn't have any words to speak to Thor Odinson, but the breathing was easier. But then he thought again and decided to divulge just enough. "Your hope for honor is misplaced in these new compatriots of yours." Loki worked his jaw mostly for show now; Jane had been there less than an hour before. Yet the muzzle was tight and despite its fine craftsmanship horridly uncomfortable on his tender face. "If I was treated it was not by order of your precious Director Fury." There; let him writhe with that.
The Thunderer looked comically confused. "Who did this then? I would thank them."
"Wouldn't you like to know Thor Odinson. But I won't divulge my benefactor; their honor at least won't be besmirched." With a sneer he wedged it in deeper. Thor always did have a way of leading his foot to his mouth. "It seems my thanks must be enough to some."
He hoped that the Oaf had had his fill of Midgard as he was well and truly ready to leave his failed campaign and this cursed planet. "When do we acquit this place and return to your glorious realm?"
"Our realm Loki." He fruitlessly told him with a sigh. "And we will return to Asgard within the day after I have finished my affairs."
With that said Thor bent to reattach the muzzle and Loki didn't care to fight him. Only when he laid his large hand on his head did Loki jerk it away, thankfully hiding the pain from less analytical eyes. Thor left him again to his thoughts and, unbeknownst to him, in only slight agony. Seemed Midgardian painkillers could at least take off the edge of pain.
This turn was fortunate. He knew he couldn't hide his injuries much longer but at least in Asgard he would have proper treatment, and be away from Thor because of it. Also such a short time before their departure could mean that Thor was unaware that his paramour was on this very base. For a reason he couldn't fathom Loki had no desire to see or hear of his fake brother's reunion with the small mortal as Thor would of no doubt tell him.
Hours later standing out in the square still muzzled, but at least his shackled arms were forward to grip the Tesseract's container, Loki felt a strange sigh of relief that he'd neither seen nor hear any further mention of Jane Foster.
Later, when she'd seen firsthand the desolation of New York, the lists of dead and people mourning Jane Foster promised herself that if she ever saw Loki of Asgard again she would slap him, screw whoever else was in the room at the time.
End
This could go on, but for now I'm leaving it a oneshot. I hope it was enjoyable. :)