Chapter XXXV—What They Said, She Though, And He Kind of, Sort of Promised

Aurox felt his shoulders slump. "But only you believe that. No one else will."

"Well, tsu-ka-nv-s-di-na, I am the only person here with you at the moment. Is my belief not enough?"

~P. C. and Kristen Cast: House of Night: Hidden

The following days felt like waiting for something, but nothing ever happened. Nothing that would stop the waiting, anyway.

They'd stayed in the tower. Not because it was overly comfortable, or because they would have an overabundance of space; the top, the penthouse, and three more floors under it were ruined. What hadn't fallen apart when Loki had unleashed that blasted thing had been damaged when the top had collapsed. It was more because they could hardly stuff Loki into a normal hospital and because both Thor and Rebecca kind of refused to leave him alone, each in their own way. And then Tony had to stay, since it was always better to keep an eye on everything, and he didn't really feel like leaving them alone (even though he kept on saying he was done with all this shit and would fly to Malibu). Steve was gone, and so was Clint (he'd been awfully glad to hear both Coulson and Natasha were alive). Some of the other SHIELD agents were not so lucky. Bruce stuck around, mostly because he didn't really have anywhere to go, and partly because he was interested in Loki's condition.

Which, frankly, wasn't good.

His body had healed all right, what with the magic doing its work. Even his brain activity seemed normal—or so Bruce and the doctors claimed (Tony might have raised their salaries a little to encourage them towards not telling the whole world they had a patient whose dislocated arm healed within a day). Still, he didn't wake up. Bruce thought it might be due to his mind trying to recover from whatever damage it had attained. Tony couldn't really find any better explanation, so he ended up agreeing.

"Did you find an interesting place?"

"Hm?" Tony twitched and looked up and Bruce.

"You got lost in your thoughts."

"Oh. That. Nah, it's nothing. Just thinking about this whole mess." He picked up a slice of pizza from the box on the table.

"Loki."

"Yes. His business with the purple guy. That glowing box of his." He sighed. "Blue Jay might know something, but I doubt it."

Bruce nodded. "Somebody should convince Thor to get some sleep. He's worse than a mother hen."

"You're not looking at me, right? Why do you think sending me down there would be more effective?"

A shrug. "They're probably sick of seeing me already, and you never go down. Besides, isn't Rebecca your friend?"

"Sort of, maybe friend. That doesn't count."

"You should stretch your legs."

Tony frowned. "Why are you so adamant I go?"

Bruce sighed. "I just need a little peace and quiet, okay?"

"You should have just said so, buddy." Tony got up; his body did feel a little stiff. "Have fun meditating or whatever it is you do."

"I'm in need of alone time, not on the verge of hulking out, Tony."

"That's what I said." He walked out of the room and decided to take the stairs this time. Maybe his body really did need a bit of movement after all the sitting he'd been doing. And perhaps he should start charging the rent for the medical room. Lately, Loki had spent way too much time in there.

Tony didn't bother knocking. His tower, his rules. If somebody didn't like it...

Thor looked up from the chair placed next to the bed.

"Stark," he said quietly.

"Yeah, hi. Why are you keeping your v—oh." His gaze landed on the other chair, this one set in a corner. Rebecca was sitting in it, her head hanging low on her chest. Strands of hair were falling over her face.

"Nothing new, I take it?" He nodded towards Loki. The Trickster looked terrible. Tony had seen him the day after the fight when Jarvis had told him Loki had started screaming, and Tony had rushed down after Bruce. It wasn't a pretty thing to watch, what with Loki clawing at his throat and face, screaming, and thrashing around on the bed. He'd settled down eventually, still in the strange equivalent of sleep, and from then on, his hands were cuffed to the bed. The gashes on his face had healed, but there were still dark circles on his too-white skin.

Thor shook his head. "Not really. But he hasn't had any fits today."

He sounded so hopeful, it hurt.

"Well, that's probably a good sign." Tony ran a hand through his hair. "Why don't you go get some sleep or something?"

"I am well, friend Stark."

"Tony." Seriously, his name wasn't that complicated. "Bruce said you needed to get some sleep. I'm only here to convey his message. You don't want to anger the Green Guy, do you?"

"I don't think Banner would…"

"Kidding, buddy. But seriously." He made a show of sniffing the air. "Go take a shower. Get some rest. Sleeping Beauty won't go anywhere."

After a moment, Thor nodded. His eyes turned towards Rebecca.

"Should I take her with me?"

"Nah. Let her sleep. I'll nag her into going upstairs when she wakes."

"Very well."

The chair's legs scraped the floor lightly as the Thunderer got up. Tony's gaze lingered on the sleeping woman.

"Hey, Pikachu. What do you think, are they going to break each other's heart?"

At first, there was only silence. Then, Thor said slowly,

"I wish I knew, Stark."

~*oO*o*Oo*~

Her mind stirred sluggishly. Instinctively, her body wanted to roll over onto her other side—

But there was nowhere to roll onto, and her neck hurt like hell. She groaned.

"Morning, Whispers."

"Don't call me that," she muttered and rubbed her eyes before she could remember she was wearing make up. Great. Now she was going to look like a panda's relative.

"Touchy."

"What do you want, Stark?"

"My turn to do the Loki watching, it seems." He flashed her a grin. "Bruce wanted me to send Thor to bed. I thought I'd stay until you woke up and do the same with you."

Oh. "Hm. Thanks, I guess. Aren't you supposed to be playing with that blue box?"

He shrugged. "I was."

"He'll want it back." When he woke up. If he woke up. But he was going to… Of course he was… "Stark?"

"Yes?"

"That alien…" It had taken her a while to remember, but she had. "I saw him before."

"What?" His eyes were suddenly keen and alert.

She nodded. "In that… vision Loki created."

Stark's brow furrowed. "I figured they knew each other."

"I think… I think he might have… hurt Loki. Tortured him."

Stark was silent for a moment. Then he sighed.

"Go eat something," he said. "Shower. Get some rest. Whatever."

She didn't move at first, her gaze settling on Loki's angular face. She didn't particularly want to leave him. After all, there was nothing she needed to do. Except find a job, but that would take energy and patience she really didn't have right now.

She nodded anyway. Maybe food wasn't too bad an idea.

~*oO*o*Oo*~

She took a shower first. A long, long shower. Then, she dug fresh clothes out of the duffel bag (because yes, she'd managed to tear herself from Loki's bed and go home), and threw herself on the bed. It was nice of Stark, the way he was letting them stay in the Tower. There was no real reason he would need to do that. Perhaps he didn't want to be left alone with the destruction?

She sighed. Her body would be thankful for some quality rest, but her mind was too full of flitting thoughts. By this point, she wasn't even trying to deny that she worried for Loki, anymore. She'd been there when he'd had his first fit—and it hadn't been easy to watch.

She thought she could imagine a little bit of the horrors his mind had to fight.

She must have drifted to sleep because, later, she didn't remember lying on the bed and staring into space. Checking the time on her phone confirmed it. She got up, ran her fingers through her hair a couple of times, and left the room.

Stark had offered them the master suites that were normally reserved for important guests; he took one, Rebecca got another, and the third one was officially Banner's, but Thor tagged along sometimes when he managed to tear himself away from Loki, and Banner spent a lot of time with Stark, so it was really only 'officially' Banner's. It was also the closest they had to a common room and the only chance to get some real food (that wasn't takeout), so Rebecca headed there. She heard voices before she even entered, voices she didn't know too well, but there were definitely more people there than the two that should be, namely Banner and Thor. In fact, she noticed once she entered, Thor wasn't even present. Instead, the archer and the red-haired woman (with a figure Rebecca couldn't not envy) were seated on one couch, and Captain America on the other one.

"Hi…" Rebecca hovered at the door for a moment. "Is Dr Banner here?"

"In there." Captain—Steve Rogers, wasn't that his name?—pointed in the general direction of the bathroom. Rebecca nodded and headed over to the mini fridge located by the bar. Some fruit would feel good…

"You're the journalist."

Rebecca looked up. It was the woman who had spoken.

"Mm-hmm. And you are?"

"Natasha Romanoff," said Rogers, and the woman glanced at him. "Clint Barton"—he pointed at the archer—"and I'm Steve Rogers. Pleasure to meet you, Miss Reed."

She shrugged, gaze lingering on Barton.

He'd shot that arrow.

Leah was dead.

"Yeah."

Before anyone could call her rude, Banner emerged from the bathroom.

"I thought I heard your voice."

"Mhm." Rebecca took a banana out of the fridge.

"Is something up with Loki?"

She straightened, shaking her head, and began peeling the fruit. "Not that I know. Stark was there when I left. Might still be."

Banner nodded. He pointed at the couches. "Care to join us?"

"I was just here for food. Thanks, though. How's Thor?"

"Sleeping." Banner sat down next to Rogers. Rebecca hummed something unintelligible, and headed for the door when Barton's voice stopped her.

"How can you care?"

"Care for what?" She broke off a piece of banana and put it in her mouth. It was just barely ripe enough to be good.

"Loki. How can you act like he's the victim here?"

"I'm sorry, who decided killing the alien was a better idea than killing you?"

Barton snorted, and Romanoff subtly brushed her hand against his thigh. "And the damage he'd done before?"

Rebecca fixed her gaze on him. "My sister died that day. You know why? Because somebody thought shooting aliens with exploding arrows when they're right next to a café full of people was a good idea."

For a moment, something very, very dark crossed Barton's face.

"He played with people's minds," he said slowly, muscles in his jaw strained. Romanoff's hand squeezed his thigh. "Whatever he's getting now, he deserves it."

Rebecca pressed her lips together. That banana was becoming a bit strangely shaped in her clenched hand.

"Did he torture you? Did he?"

"He took over my mind! You're just too head over heels to see what a fucker he is!"

Her whole body tensed.

Somebody said 'Clint' in what was probably a soothing tone, but she couldn't care less. How she wished she could punch the archer. Perhaps it would help with things. Perhaps it would help with so many things… Her sister's death, the pain, the confusion, the loss of her job, her future hanging in the air. The strain she'd been putting on her body, the worries, the fear she'd experienced. If she just slammed her fist into his cheek, would it help somewhat? If she saw blood spilled, heard the proof of somebody else's pain and not care about it at all?

"Raven."

She froze.

Whirled around.

And remained still.

Stark was standing by the door with Loki right beside him. The god's angular face was unearthly pale and made paler by the dark circles on his skin, his eyes wide, and dark, and wild, and together with his hair, which was dishevelled at best, strands framing the cheekbones that only looked sharper now, they gave him a macabre, maddening look; not so much as if he'd woken from a nightmare than as if he himself were a part of one.

But his voice had been calm.

A sudden desire to embrace him made Rebecca approach the two men, and perhaps her arms twitched—

But she stopped herself.

The corner of his mouth curled upwards, and how the hell was he amused now?

"Calm down," he said.

"I am calm." Didn't he see? "I am perfectly calm. Why wouldn't I be calm? I mean—I mean—you idiot! One second you go all I'm sorry, the next I wake up in a freaking hospital bed with my back on fire! How the hell was that a good idea?! You have such a talent for pissing people off! Do you have any idea—ouch, what the f—"

His hand closed around her wrist none too gently, and she no choice but to follow as he dragged her out of the room and into the corridor in a couple of quick, purposeful steps—

Her back collided with the wall—"Would you st—"—and he was kissing her, a hand getting tangled in her hair, and she was kissing him back, and ah, hell.

"Why did you stay?" He pulled away, eyes glowing in a strange way. "When Thanos was here. Why didn't you run?"

"I was too scared to move?" Heat coloured her cheeks, and she averted her gaze, but Loki's fingertips touching her neck where ugly yellow bruises still lingered made her look up again. He didn't say anything, and she didn't, either. Perhaps because there were so many things to say.

Wrapping her hand around the back of his neck, she pulled him down again, parting her lips for him. She felt him respond almost desperately—maybe not almost, maybe truly—enjoyed the pressure of his body against hers until she was left gasping. Hell, kissing him was good. And all right, maybe he did have a nice ass. A really nice ass. That she wouldn't mind seeing naked at all. In fact, she would encourage it. Yep. Totally.

"Aren't you going to ask anything?"

"Would you answer?"

Loki narrowed his eyes a bit. "Perhaps."

"Hm." She made a step to the side. "Won't they—ugh. Won't they"—she glanced over her shoulder at the door—"want something from you? Us? Throw you in prison, maybe?"

"I talked to Stark." He pressed his lips together. "I doubt they could keep me in their prisons."

"So you're free."

"For the moment."

"I see." Rebecca leaned against the wall. There was a smear on her shoes she didn't know she'd had. "Thor will want to see you."

"And the Avengers will want to interrogate me. Trust me, I know." Loki tilted his head a bit. "It is not entirely unavoidable, but I suppose tolerating them for now sounds like an option."

"Well." Rebecca shrugged and jerked her head in the direction of the master suite. "You'd better get in there, then."

"I do what I want, Raven."

"Clearly." She flattened her palms against the wall as Loki moved to step past her.

"You're free now," she said.

He stopped. "Yes."

"And then? What's gonna happen?"

It wasn't just his freedom she was asking about although she didn't feel too inclined to admit it. She couldn't quite decide whether the smirk on Loki's face was a good thing or not.

"The same thing that always happens; they can't turn me into a pet."

Rebecca's lips parted, ready to say this was no answer at all, that she still didn't know, and Loki shrugged and added,

"I may have answers to give you,"

and she closed her mouth.

"Yeah," she said slowly, "you better."

The corner of his lips twitched again as he turned away and reached for the doorknob. "I'm certain you can clear your schedule."

"I don't know. Are the answers any good?"

"I suppose you shall have to see. Raven." He slipped into the room, closing the door behind him.

Rebecca ran both hands through her hair.

"I suppose I will," she told the air, wondering to what extent Loki was aware not all of her questions had something to do with words.

A/N: Okay. This is it. I hope you enjoyed the story, and I want to thank you all for reading, reviewing, following, and adding it to favourites. A special thanks to my wonderful beta. I'm planing to start writing a sequel to One Day at a Time, in case anyone is interested. You can always find me on tumblr as shadesofmidnightsun.

Stay awesome.

~shades