Avengers 1. Video Games and Nightmares

**A/N: Hey everybody!**

**A few points: First, I wanted to give a HUGE thank you to everyone who read and reviewed 'The Avenging of Natalie Frost'. It broke my personal best record; I've never had a fic reach one hundred reviews before, and you all made that happen. :,D You're amazing! Thank you so much!**

**Second: This sequel is probably going to be even longer than the first 'book' was so, **_**hopefully, **_**the chapters will be a lot longer as well (not counting this one). As indicated in both the epilogue and the little preview in the last instillation, this is set about a year or so **_**after**_** the events of 'The Avenging of Natalie Frost'. As such, relationships have grown together (or apart) with that time. And this is still set in Natalie's Point of View. So… you know. Hope you like it! **

* * *

The Avenging of Loki Laufeyson

If you could go back in time to any point in your life and talk to yourself, when would you go to, and what would you say?

I would go back to before all of this happened. Before I met Fraye. Before the war. Before Loki joined with the Avengers and I. Before any of this ever started.

Would I try and change it? I don't think I could. I don't think that's possible. But I want to look myself in the eye. I want to look Past Me directly in the innocent brown eyes that have not seen what I have. I don't want to tell her that everything's okay, or that everything will all work out. That would be a lie.

All I want to say, the only thing that I could possibly say, is: I'm sorry.

Because my life… Loki's life… the Avengers' lives… it became hell.

And if I told Past Me about what happened, she wouldn't understand it, not like I do. Because she would still have to live it. She would still have to go through all of it. And then she'd understand, but then it would be too late, because then it would all be over…

Could anyone else understand, if they knew? If the people of Earth knew my tale, would they understand why everything happened this way?

Maybe.

And to the people of Earth, I have a message:

For everything that has happened. I'm sorry.

* * *

It all started on a normal day. Normal for _me, _that is. When you're the Avengers' therapist (not to mention Loki's) 'normal' is kind of a grey area.

I sat up in my bed- one of the few ordinary things in my life- and scratched my dog- another ordinary thing- behind the ears. Jekyll, the mutt in question, looked up at me with big eyes from where he was lying at my feet. I rolled my own eyes as his large, pink tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth, a sort of doggy smile spreading across his muzzle.

I tapped him on the cold, wet nose. "You," I told him pointedly, "Are way too happy."

He responded by licking my finger. I had a girl moment, my face twisting up as a long, resounding, "Ewww…." Came out of my mouth.

"Gross, Jekyll!" I complained. He didn't seem to care. I wiped the dog slobber on his fuzzy head, muttering under my breath, "Stupid dog."

I stood and got ready for 'work', going through the typical morning routine. Brush hair, brush teeth, change clothes. Simple, easy, ordinary. But still… different. It had been almost a year since I'd moved into this place, but it was still weird, not having my mom around all the time. But since Cameron had moved back into my old house, I had moved into _his; _the house that he lived in while he wasn't with us. I'd thought it would be harder to live here, in a place where my father lived while he thought of me as a monster, but it wasn't that bad, actually. Just a little… empty.

Which was more than I could say about the one place that was supposed to be empty of anything but me; my head.

I closed my eyes and listened quietly to the whispers at the back of my mind. Loki did not seem to be awake yet. And yet my hands were shaking, trembling just slightly. As I packed my bag and pulled up the zipper, my fingers jumped all over the place.

_Not again…_

I checked my phone for the day of the week, and the time. I didn't have school today; but then, I rarely did. I only had one class on-campus; the rest was online. And I'd been keeping up with that fairly well. But with superheroes, you can't really keep to a 'schedule'. Something my poor, agenda-eccentric mother had been forced to learn the hard way.

So normal school was definitely out for me. I worked with heroes and super spies; time was a precious commodity.

I looked to Jekyll, my plans for the day shifting into place in my head. "Right!" I announced. "So I'll have to visit Loki today."

Jekyll rolled onto his back, paws sticking in the air as his ears flopped back onto the tile. Innocent. Whining just a little.

I scowled. "Don't give me that look," I scolded, holding up my shaking hand, using it to demonstrate my point. "He needs me."

Another little whimper. I sighed. "Look, I know, I know, it's the fourth time this week. What can I say? The guy has issues."

Jekyll didn't give in. I heaved another sigh and ran my fingernails over his belly. His tail went back and forth like crazy, smacking into a nearby wall a few times. I rolled my eyes.

"Dumb dog," I mumbled, heading towards the door, throwing my backpack over my shoulders. Though I didn't go to school every day, being without a backpack still felt… unusual. So I kept the thing on; what was the harm?

"Watch the house for me, fluff face," I said as I closed and locked the door behind me. I went to the garage and smiled a little. One good thing that had come out of the whole mess of the previous year; S.H.I.E.L.D. gave me a fairly decent pay. Enough for me to stop riding the old bike- which I still kept around just in case- and get a better ride; a sweet black motorcycle that Tony had been quick to dub the 'Frost-Cycle'.

May I just say, best job _ever?_

Though my employer and I didn't exactly 'get along'. Fury and I had been at odds practically since he'd hired me; and considering I left out a _lot _in my reports for the sake of secrecy, giving away only as much as was absolutely necessary to reassure the higher-ups about the Avengers' state of mind… well, we'd almost come to blows once or twice. He'd threatened to fire me on multiple occasions; to which I laughed in his face. They couldn't fire me and they knew it. The nanos in my blood were classified; everything about my _life _was classified. Besides that, the Avengers (with the possible exception of Natasha and Clint) would never agree to allow another S.H.I.E.L.D.-sanctioned psychiatrist poke around in their lives. No matter how uncooperative I was, beggars can't be choosers; what S.H.I.E.L.D. had now was pretty great, as far as I was concerned.

And I'd been giving them a _lot _of information on Loki. I hid a few things here and there- things that I didn't think they needed to know about- but Loki and I no longer had any secrets from each other. We were _in each other's brains. _It was a psychiatrist's- and a spy's- dream.

I put my helmet on, zipped up my leather jacket, and started up the Frost-Cycle. It roared beneath me, and I grinned. I was all for clean, green energy, and for not polluting the air with exhaust… but this thing was so damn _cool _that I found myself making an exception. Okay, a lot of exceptions.

I'm shallow sometimes. So sue me.

I started towards Stark Tower. I knew that Thor would be there soon; he usually came by in the morning to see if I would be going to Asgard that day. Though Tony had talked about figuring out a way to set up a portal between Asgard and Earth, we were still relying on the Tesseract to take me and Thor to and from the place. I still nagged Tony about it, but the guy rarely listened to me, anyway. Too focused on his armors. I understood; you know, you gotta save the world and all that crap.

I drove up to the Tower, parking my motorcycle in the space that Tony had set aside for it in one of his garages, JARVIS allowing me entry inside after scanning the bike and my face. I left my helmet there, tightening my backpack straps and heading inside.

"Lucy, I'm home!" I called out to the building, knowing that JARVIS would relay my voice to wherever Tony was. And possibly to Banner or Steve, if they were here. Banner had been spending quite a bit of time here, but he couldn't be here _all_ of the time.

Tony's voice came back to me a few moments later. "Going to visit your star patient today?" He asked snidely. I felt my cheeks warm up; not just at the label that the Avengers had forced onto Loki, but also because, well… that was _exactly _what I was going to do.

"Kinda," I said innocently. I heard his exasperated sigh on the other end of the intercom.

"You spend way too much time with that man. I think he's a bad influence on you."

"Funny, my mom says the same thing about you."

"Your mother is a wise woman. She would never tell such horrible lies."

I grinned. "Thor here yet?" I inquired. I was ready to get moving, even though Loki wasn't awake yet. He preferred to sleep away as much as he could of his time in prison. His cell was always so dark that it was sometimes hard for him to tell night from day; until I came along, that is. But his sleeping patterns were still massively messed up, even a year after we'd been linked together.

"Not yet. Banner and Rodgers are both at home, and who knows where the hell the spies are." His voice became just a little bit ominous. "Just you and me, Nat."

"And JARVIS," I corrected, not bothering to get angry at him for his use of the nickname. I'd told him a thousand times before not to call me 'Nat', but by the time he realized that it was my father's nickname for me, it was too late. He'd made it into a habit. I started towards the elevator. "What floor you on?"

"Thirteen. I'm in the lab."

"Ah, tempting fate, I see."

"I'm sorry?"

"Unlucky thirteen." I pointed out, pushing the button. A yellow light came to life beneath my fingertip, and the doors closed.

His eyes rolled; I could hear it in his tone. "I can buy any luck that I need. And shoot any 'unlucky' thing that I don't."

"The Great, Untouchable Fancy Tin Can of Death, afraid of nothing. Lovely."

"Hey, don't knock the powers, 'Bubbletastica'. That suit's a lot cooler than _your_ tech."

"You realize that you're mocking your own creation, right?" The doors opened again, and I stepped out of the elevator, walking to the lab; one of many, but the only one on this floor.

"I take maybe… _half_ of the responsibility for those nanobots." Stark said. "The _good_ half. Everything else was Loki's fault."

"Why don't you just man up and admit that most everything on this _planet_ is your fault?" I pushed open the door, the silver bracelet on my wrist catching the light. The control panel for the nanos; the one that sent a constant signal to them, keeping them from self-destructing. If they didn't receive a signal at least once every forty-eight hours, they went _poof, _and me with them. At least in theory. Since Loki had gotten his magic mixed in, no one really knew if they would go boom or not.

"On this planet, maybe. But I'm not entirely convinced that you're not a little green man beneath that college student exterior." Tony swiveled around in his chair as I entered, looking at me. I swear, if he had been stroking a cat, he'd have looked like a regular Bond villain. He certainly had the ego of one.

I snorted. "Didn't you know? All college students come from outer space."

"You know, that explains so much."

I chuckled softly and flopped onto a chair, twirling about a few times. "JARVIS, can you pull up my account?" I asked, turning to one of the bazillion screens that littered Stark Tower. The AI obeyed, and a blue screen demanding a password flickered in front of me. I typed it in, my fingers flying across the keys as Tony pulled his chair up to the glass computer screen beside me.

"You really need to come up with a more original password, Nat," Tony said, consulting said screen. "I mean, 'Decepticon'? Really? Transformers fan much?"

I scowled at him. "I'd have a lot more original passwords if you'd stop _hacking _them."

"You use my computers, you deal with the consequences."

I rolled my eyes and opened a few documents, frowning. I had my own laptop for the more sensitive things- a present from Stark for my twentieth birthday- but I kept one or two things on the Tower's computers, just in case. And I usually did most of my homework on them, too.

"Hey, Tony, take a look at this." I ran my hand across the screen; the document followed my fingers and flung itself onto Tony's screen. He looked at it and frowned in turn.

"That's my homework from yesterday," I told him. "You know, for college? Does it make any sense to you?"

He studied it. "How drunk were you when you wrote this?"

I scowled. "Oh, ha ha." I said tartly. "Look, will I get a decent grade if I turn it in like that, or not?"

"Not if I was the teacher."

I rolled my eyes again. Never ask a genius for homework help. "Screw it," I tapped a few commands- checking the spelling, making an edit or two- then sent the file out to my professor. I closed the program and turned to Stark. "Ok! Now that's out of the way, let's get down to business."

"Loser does the dishes for a week?" Tony asked, pulling up our usual variety of video games. We always went through them in a list; I chose the first, he chose the second, I chose the third and so on. We'd play one after another until someone stopped us. We usually lasted a few hours before that happened.

"Done," I agreed, selecting the first challenge. Tony grinned; Pepper usually helped him out with the dishes, since he was usually too busy with his newest editions of Stark Tech to do anything around the Tower itself. But she was busy, too; and always very happy when we made these bets; because, either way, the dishes would be cleaned.

We had wasted the entire morning away by the time Banner finally came to the Tower; he didn't bother with trying to stop me and Tony, who were in the middle of piloting imaginary aircraft when he came in. He simply called out a quick greeting and headed towards another laboratory. And, by the time Thor showed up at noon, finishing our mini-tournament, Tony had completely pulverized me.

"I know you love the smell of dish soap," Tony said as JARVIS informed Thor that I'd be ready to leave in a moment.

"Bite me, Stark," I said easily, without any real malice. Loki had woken up hours ago, and had been watching my little war without any enthusiasm. My hands had been too shaky on the controls to really win anything; though I didn't tell Tony that. He'd just blow it off as an excuse; and Loki would be pissed at me for showing his 'vulnerability' like that.

But that very vulnerability was getting me worried. I wasn't even sure what he was so upset about; nothing new had really happened since my last visit. But something had been bugging him for a while now; something big. Something that he really, _really _didn't want to talk about.

That was ok. I usually did a lot of the talking, anyway.

I left my backpack in the room with Tony and headed to the floor where the Thunderer was waiting for me.

"Thor!" I exclaimed as I entered the room; he turned from where he was looking out the window and smiled at me.

"Natalie," He greeted in turn, taking my hand; the two of us pulled towards each other, clapping each other's backs in a Viking-style, aren't-we-bad kind of hug. I grinned wildly at him; Loki had once loved Thor as his brother, even if no one was really sure how he felt about him now. That sibling love had translated to me, which opened my mind up to how great a guy the Norse god of Thunder really was. Though it was Loki's influence that had introduced me to Thor, I think that we would have eventually become as close as we were, anyway, regardless of whether or not Loki and I had been linked.

"JARVIS informed me that you wished to go to Asgard again today," Thor said, one blonde eyebrow rising. I was just grateful that he started calling JARVIS by his name, instead of referring to him as 'the building'.

His pale blue eyes focused in on mine. He must have noticed how frequent these 'visits' had gotten in recent days, because he asked, "Is there something wrong with my brother?"

Ice trickled down my spine at the word 'brother', as it usually did. As per usual whenever Thor was in the room, Loki was now listening with a little more intensity. I felt his typical bitterness in my gut and wanted to roll my eyes. Even after all this time, the man held a grudge. Family was hard for him to forgive.

Then again, I was one to talk. My throat went dry as I thought of my own family; specifically, my father. The man who had once viewed me as a monster. Even after all this time, I couldn't bring myself to forgive him completely, not for everything. As hard as I was trying… I just couldn't get those first seven years of my life to stop playing on repeat in my head, couldn't get the bitter taste out of my mouth every time I thought about the thirteen years that followed.

Well, we all have issues.

"He's all right," I lied smoothly. When you have the Norse god of Mischief in your head, that's something you tend to do a lot. If you weren't a good liar before, you learn pretty quickly. Thankfully, I was _always _good at it.

I'm not sure if that's something I should be proud of, though.

"He's just been having a bit of trouble sleeping lately," I added, not untruthfully. Loki was unhappy that I had to admit to even this much, but he understood the necessity of it. He also understood that it didn't really matter if he was unhappy or not. "Nightmares," I explained as Thor looked confused.

"I see," Thor said, nodding slowly. "Very well, then."

He held out the Tesseract; tucked away safely inside a glass device with golden handles. I grasped one of these handles now; like it had a thousand times before when I came in contact with the glowing blue cube, my entire body buzzed with energy, and I felt stronger, _better._ I knew it was just an overload of power in the nanos, but it still felt great.

I waved goodbye to the cameras in case Tony was watching (as if he ever stopped) and Thor twisted the handle; blue energy flared around me as the world spun, then halted abruptly, leaving me in the golden halls of Asgard.

Despite how unnerving it was to be in a totally new place so abruptly, I played it cool, casually brushing myself off and releasing the device that surrounded the Tesseract. "Right, then. I'm off."

Thor nodded and went to place the Tesseract in its usual spot; where that was, I still didn't know. I wasn't allowed to know; because if _I _knew, then guess who else knew?

I walked directly to Loki's cell, deep in thought. In the old days, Thor would accompany me there, and let the guards know that my presence was sanctioned. Nowadays, everyone already knew as much. Those in the palace had slowly become accustomed to seeing a strange mortal girl roaming the halls for no particular reason. I spent quite a lot of time here, after all.

On reaching the prison doors, I gave the guards a mock-salute. They looked me up and down, while in turn, I scanned them reflexively. A long time ago, Loki had made an attempt to escape that didn't involve me; he'd simply made a run for it. He'd been stopped, but afterwards, one of the guards had entered his cell and beat the living crap out of him. That guard and I ended up disagreeing.

Thankfully, Odin was keeping true to his word; neither of the two sentries standing before the prison doors was that guard. They stepped aside to allow me entry; I gave them each a nod and pushed through the doors, plunging myself into the darkness inside.

I have noted before that Loki's prison was, quite possibly, one of them most terrifying places in the universe. It was completely dark; absolutely devoid of light. The second you stepped inside, your vision was gone, taken from you, the darkness so complete and absolute that you wondered if you'd ever see the light again. I knew that the cell was large, despite the darkness, knew that there were places that I had yet to discover… but I always felt as though the darkness was a wall; closing in, pressing in all around me.

In the center of this cell was a single, grey light with an undeterminable source. It cast its blissful illumination over a small area of the room; and this was where Loki resided. There were a few of the necessary living requirements- a bed and such- but Loki always seemed to prefer the floor; he was typically sitting there whenever I arrived, cross-legged, eyes closed as though in deep concentration.

As I emerged into that patch of light and saw him sitting there, I stifled a sigh of relief. No matter how many times I went through that darkness, it never seemed to get any better. I often wondered how Odin could do that to his own son, often considered how prisoners on Earth were treated a little more humanely. But then I realized that we could afford to do so. Prisoners on Earth couldn't destroy entire planets while having a temper tantrum. And, besides that, Asgardians didn't exactly seem like the most 'humane' of people. I'd lost count of the different types of weapons I'd learned about on my journeys here; not to mention the hundreds of war stories I'd heard.

I walked over to the chair and sat down; it was my usual place in the room. Loki had been pretty territorial at first, but slowly, surely, he'd become accustomed to seeing me in that spot; it was soon established, however, that me stepping pretty much anywhere else would not be tolerated. I let it slide; he needed to have _some_ degree of control over his own life, no matter how miniscule that degree was. A man's home was his castle; and if Loki's prison was his home, then here, he could remain king.

I folded my hands in my lap, trying to pull myself together, to remove myself from Loki as much as I could. Whatever he said from this point on would be as voluntary as possible. We could never separate, not completely, not anymore. His mind was always in the back of mine, quiet whispers that were never hard to grasp. But we could at least partially distance ourselves from each other.

He had not moved since my arrival; he was still facing the door, his eyes closed as he concentrated. What, exactly, he was thinking about, I wasn't allowed to know. I didn't pry. We both knew that I could rip the information directly from his head if so inclined; and that he could easily do the same to me. But I rarely stooped to such measures; only if I had to. Only if he was being so unbelievably stubborn that it was unavoidable, only if it would end up helping him eventually.

Still, the two of us no longer had any secrets from each other. He knew absolutely everything about me, and I knew… most everything about him. When this link had first been created, Loki was the only one who knew the full extent of it; and he used that to his advantage, learning everything about me: every thought, every memory, every dream. I, on the other hand, had to learn as I went along. And while I knew most every memory he had, knew exactly how he thought… there were still a few hazy patches here and there. Things that I wasn't quite allowed to know yet. Things that I didn't ask about, for these were the things that were tucked away in the deepest, darkest corners of his mind, and to question him about them would be to rip his skull open and tear out his darkest moments. I wanted to avoid that, as much as I could.

I swallowed, folding my hands in my lap. "Mornin', Loki," I greeted him cheerfully. As though we were just two normal people, having to a normal conversation. As though I actually needed to speak aloud for him to know that I was there, when in reality he knew from the second that I entered the room. He did not respond, keeping his eyes closed, deep in thought. I vaguely wondered if he was contemplating how best to assassinate me.

"No," Loki answered my unspoken thought. I lifted an eyebrow. He didn't turn to me; he didn't even open his eyes. "You know that is impossible," he said, his voice barely audible.

That was true. Neither Loki nor I could harm each other; the very thought was… well, unthinkable. It would be like hurting a part of yourself. But there were days when I wondered if he was willing to risk it; to be rid of me now, to deal with some minor pain, to spare himself a far greater pain; the pain of having me as his weakness. Our link only grew stronger as time went on; eventually, the two of us would be nigh inseparable.

"So what _are_ you thinking about, then?" I prodded. He didn't reply. Little pest.

I waited in silence for an answer, anyway. When one was not forthcoming, I changed subjects quickly, easily. My voice gentle and quiet, mimicking that of every psychiatrist _ever, _I stated, "So. You've been having nightmares again."

It was a fact, not a question. But Loki answered it anyway. "Yes," he affirmed coolly, eyes still closed, features still completely neutral, still facing the door. Still _not_ facing _me_. I was about ready to move the chair right in front of him; man's home-castle be damned.

"Wanna talk about them?"

At last, _at last, _he turned to me, his eyes opening as he turned his head sideways. He gave me one of his looks; the one that said, _'Really, mortal? Are you __**truly**__ this incompetent?'_

I ignored it. You don't spend a year talking to the Norse god of Mischief without having your pride damaged from time to time. "I once had a nightmare about an emu. It was absolutely terrifying."

"You were five years old. Everything was terrifying." He turned away from me again, green eyes flickering shut.

I folded my arms over my chest. "Well, I'd give better examples, but all of my _really_ bad nightmares came directly from _you_." I reigned myself in before I could say more. Sometimes, this guy really knew how to push my buttons. I took a brief moment to compose myself, then tried again. "I'm only trying to help you, Loki."

"You are no longer required to." He replied curtly. "This is the forth time this week, Miss Frost. I am not a child."

"Even children know that talking about nightmares makes them easier to deal with."

"Is that the lesson you learned when you told your father of _your_ nightmare?"

I winced. Ok, that was the exact opposite of what I'd learned that day. But back then, my father had viewed _me _as the nightmare, so Loki wasn't exactly playing fair. My eyes narrowed a little.

"No," I answered him slowly, calculatingly. "_That_, I learned from _April_."

He shut up.

Immediately, I bit my lip, scowling. My face grew hot; April was a bit of a taboo subject between us. It was so hard, trying to keep the conversation from taking these kinds of turns. There were days when we got along quite well, speaking civilly, perfectly polite. But there were other days when it was all we could do to keep from throttling each other. You never knew what we were going to do next.

This time, I took a longer moment, closing my eyes and taking a few deep breaths. We would get no where by fighting. We never did.

"All right," I said after a while, as smoothly and casually as was humanly possible. "Let's not go there today, shall we?" Loki remained stonily silent. "Why don't we just start with you turning around to face me, shall we? We can take it from there."

Loki did nothing for a long time. Stubborn little jerk. But after a very, _very _long time, he unfolded his legs and stood, his every movement fluid and graceful. He strode purposefully over to the opposite side of the room, where a second chair rested; he'd only gotten a second after I started visiting so frequently. Why _else_ would he need another one?

The chair was already turned to face me, and he sat down in it in a very bored, unhurried fashion; as though I was simply some minor nuisance, not really worth his time but perhaps mildly amusing. Enough so that he would actually get up off the ground and turn to look at me, but not enough that he would actually care about the outcome of our conversation. Loki had a way of making you feel incredibly insignificant, feel as though you were worth less than nothing. But I'd spent a majority of my life feeling like that, anyway; I was pretty immune to his arrogance by this point.

"Ok, then," I said, nodding once. Loki watched me with uninterested eyes. "So you're not going to say anything about the nightmares? Anything at all?"

Despite how bored he looked, Loki studied me for a second, his green gaze penetrating my own brown eyes and staring deep into the darkest corners of thought… I swallowed and did my best to hold my ground. I'd been getting better at staring him down. Finally, his head turned to the side, his chin resting in his hand as he stared out into the darkness that surrounded our little island of light.

"They are mostly about you."

The words were so flat, so dead and toneless that I barely even realized what he was saying. But the second I understood them, I did a double take. "They're _what _now?"

He didn't repeat himself; didn't look back to me. He supported his chin with the back of his hand- with his fingers curled downwards against his throat- as opposed to using his palm; a gesture I'd seen him use quite frequently. His eyes were now distant, unseeing. I swallowed.

"These sessions scare you that much, huh?" I asked. It was a weak attempt at humor, and his green eyes rolled to the nonexistent ceiling; nonexistent only in that it could not be seen in the darkness. I was fairly sure it was up there, somewhere. At least, I _hoped _it was.

"I have seen many worlds in my exile, Natalie Frost." Loki reminded me. "I have seen many nightmarish planets. I have seen creatures made from fear itself." He looked back to me. "And you…"

"Are a mortal," I filled in. "I get it."

He looked away again. "I have nothing to fear from something so pathetic as you," he agreed, very softly.

"Then what are the nightmares about?"

No response. It took me a moment to get it, but then my eyes widened. Wow, I am slow.

"You mean…?"

He nodded once, serenely, then looked back to me, smiling wryly. That eternal little smirk that was almost always on his features had finally made an appearance. "Interesting, is it not, that I should already fear losing you?"

I swallowed thickly. He was trying to smile it away, to blow it off, to act as though it didn't mean anything… but I knew he was shaken about it. I was becoming a weakness; and one thing he could not tolerate was _weakness. _

I took his cue, keeping the conversation as light as possible, all the while sticking to the truth. "It's not that surprising, actually," I said slowly, considering each word before I spoke it aloud. "I've been worried about losing you for a long time now."

In spite of my care and caution, he scoffed. "As you have already proven, I do not die easily, Miss Frost." His tone was dark and cold as shadows. "And even so, I am locked away here forever. Where could I possibly go? What could possibly happen to me?" He looked me up and down, the utmost scorn in his eyes for the briefest of seconds. "Whereas you… you are weak. Frail. _Helpless._" His voice did not rise, but his words grew sharper, more intense. "You can not protect yourself, not from what lies out there, not from what is _coming_."

The tone of his words- an odd kind of terrible respect, combined with a smothered horror- immediately had my spine stiffening. Loki's mouth suddenly closed, snapping shut, clamping down on the stream of words that had been flowing from him. He turned away again, trying to keep up his careless façade. He sighed through his nose, looking bored once again; but I wasn't fooled.

He'd slipped. Big time.

"What's coming, Loki?" I asked carefully, quietly, leaning forward a little. He didn't answer. "Loki, what's wrong? What's happening?"

Immediately, the walls between us strengthened. Loki was bracing himself for a mental attack; which meant that he thought that I would find an attack necessary. His little slip-up was worse than I'd first thought. I swallowed as I saw the briefest flash of fear in his eyes, but he kept it hidden, kept it buried. Anything that scared Loki, particularly something that was 'coming'… I had more than enough reason to fear it, too.

"Does it threaten Asgard?" No answer. "Earth?" Still nothing. I frowned. "What _is _it, Loki?"

I put as much urgency in my tone as I could manage; I wanted to solve this peaceably. I didn't want us to get into another mental war; but I had responsibilities. S.H.I.E.L.D. would kill me if I didn't see this through to the end…

But then, who cared about S.H.I.E.L.D.? And I had responsibilities to Loki, too. I had worked hard in the past year to build up _some _sense of trust between us. I had to keep that trust. I _had _to.

Loki looked back at me for a moment, and I could see him warring it out in his head. Trying to figure out what he should and should not tell me. Finally, however, he seemed to come to a decision, because he sighed softly and placed his hands on his lap.

"There are things out there in our universe, Natalie," He said slowly. His voice was so quiet. I felt the hair on the back of my neck rise as he used my first name and only my first name; that was a rarity. He only did that in his more-dare I say it- 'human' moments.

"Things that you could not even begin to imagine," he continued, his voice still that soft, lofty whisper. "Things that your dull mortal mind could barely comprehend."

Most people would have been offended. But if Loki didn't insult my intelligence at least twice a session, I started to worry for his health. He continued on.

"There are… _entire_ _worlds_… where dreams have long stopped being nonsensical," there was an odd sort of… pained awe in his voice. I couldn't make sense of it, but it was giving me some serious chills. "Worlds where nightmares truly _are _reality. Where bad dreams are not simply a product of the mind; but rather, they are a warning."

There was something ominous in his words. No, scratch that, there was something ominous in everything; his eyes, his tone, the way he spoke.

He fell silent for a long time as I considered that; a nightmare, being a warning? Well if that was the case, then New York was long overdue for a doomsday involving a herd of stampeding, T-Rex-eating emus…

But then I really _thought _about it. I'd been trying to pull myself away from Loki's nightmares, and for the most part I'd been successful. Right now, when we dreamed, we dreamed separately. My dreams were mine, his dreams were his. No breeching of the barriers; not as far as we could tell. (Though we had both been known to have dreams from the point of view of the other: I would dream that I was him and vice versa, but as far as we could tell, this was not an actually 'switching' of our dreams.) And I'd been trying not to snoop into his nightmares too much; something, it seemed, that I'd have to reconsider. Because I didn't know what this 'warning' might be, since I didn't know any of his nightmares…

After a moment, he shook his head slowly, as though trying to clear it. "But there are also places and times when dreams are nothing more than that; dreams."

I frowned. I knew he was still worried; I could see it in his eyes, could feel _his_ anxieties forcing _my_ heart into a nervous rhythm. And beyond that, his mental walls were still up; he was still waiting for me to try and wrestle the information out of him.

I fought a sigh; I didn't see the point in fighting him. It would do him no good, and would breech the trust that I'd been working on for months. So I let it slide; after a moment of quiet contemplation, I forced myself to change the subject, and the session went on as it usually did.

I wish I could go to that point in time. I wish I could have slapped myself in the face, told Past Me to fight it out, because she would have to be stronger than this, stronger than any of this. Because there would be so much blood in the days to come; and maybe if I had been stronger, I could have stopped it.

Maybe if I had been stronger, no one would have died.


	2. Pursuing Shadows

**Author's Note: Remember when I said that the chapters should be longer…? **

** Meh, next time. Sorry. :/ **

When Thor and I arrived back in the Tower, the world had ended.

At least, that was what I assumed when Tony came running towards me, saying, "Natalie! Finally! We need you!"

My eyebrows shot up. "Missed you too, Tony," I said sarcastically; he didn't bother with a proper comeback, instead grabbing my wrist and dragging me along.

"Come on, this way!" he said urgently. He must have been waiting for me in this room to have gotten here so quickly; I frowned. Something was up. If it was an Avengers matter, he would have been equally grateful to see Thor; as it was, I had no clue what could be going on.

"What's happening?" I demanded, his insistent tone snapping me into crisis mode, trying to assess the damage.

His only response was, "She won't _shut up!_"

"Oh, gee, that really clarifies everything _right _up, thank you Stark, you're very helpful."

"Just keep moving, Pizza Girl!"

Thor followed along, keeping up fairly easily. He looked to me in confusion, and I tried to shrug. It wasn't so easy with Tony yanking my arm out of my socket. But finally we reached whatever destination he had in mind; Tony halted abruptly, and I almost ran into him.

He threw open the door in front of us, and the world descended into chaos.

For a long moment, I couldn't make sense of what I was seeing; and even when most of the puzzle pieces clicked into place, I still couldn't actually _understand_ it. We were in one of the Tower's living rooms; it was in total disarray, the furniture strewn about haphazardly. Steve was there, trying desperately to calm down another, far more desolate-looking figure.

It was a little girl. Maybe ten years old. She was screaming at the top of her lungs, tears running down her face as she tried to scratch him, kick him, bite him; anything she could do to get him away from her. Blood ran down her arms, and she looked pale and worn, haggard and exhausted. Red was splattered all over the room where the Avengers must have tried to chase her down.

My mind was spinning with questions: who was this girl? How had she gotten into the Tower? What had happened to her? Obviously, Steve hadn't done anything (he was _Steve) _but she was terrified of something…

But I pushed those questions aside; this wasn't the time to be curious. Crisis mode stayed firmly switched on as Tony said, "You're the therapist, Nat! _You _handle this!"

I made a mental note to smack him later as I crossed the room, pointing back towards the two Avengers who had come here with me. "Thor, you watch the door, make sure she doesn't get out. Tony, go be useless somewhere else."

I all but barreled into Steve as Thor took up a position in the doorframe, falling into line with my commands. "Rogers, back up, you're scaring her!" I barked. Steve, so used to following orders, did as told without a second thought, backing away a few steps. The little girl immediately pressed herself up against the wall, her matted black hair half-hiding her tiny, terrified face. "Where's Banner?"

"Down in the lab. He's trying to get a sedative." Rogers answered me. I frowned. That might be necessary, but I knew from experience that needles could make any situation a whole lot worse.

"JARVIS, can you flood this room with knockout gas?" I knew that some of the rooms were rigged to do that; but Tony hadn't 'gotten around' to fixing all of them that way.

"Not without polluting the rest of the Tower, Miss Natalie."

Damn. Steve and I could've taken a dive to make sure the little kid was safe, I was sure, but now even that option was off the table. All right. Fine. I could work with this. Maybe.

The little girl kept screaming intermittently, but mostly she was sobbing, whimpering. Those wounds on her arms worried me; if we didn't get them bandaged up quick, she might pass out from the blood loss. That was if they'd been bleeding for a long time; I couldn't tell. But there _did_ seem to be a lot of it.

I stepped back a few paces, gesturing for Steve to do the same. Slowly, carefully, I lowered myself into a crouch, bringing myself down to her eye level. She sniffled and sobbed, curling her arms close to her body. I held my hands out low, showing them to her, showing that they were empty, but making no move towards her.

"I have absolutely no idea what I am doing," I admitted. Steve and Tony-who had remained despite what I'd told him to do- exchanged a worried look. The girl's eyes remained locked on Steve, horror struck. "Soldier Boy, go guard the room with Thor," I said in a quiet, soothing voice; the same you'd use for any child. And right now, despite how she seemed to be about ten years old, it was as though she was much younger, reduced to a childlike state by the stress of the situation. Not so uncommon.

Her eyes didn't leave Rogers until he was out of the room; then they flicked to me. I stayed as perfectly still and immobile as possible.

"Hey, there," I cooed. "I'm Natalie."

Her big, round eyes blinked at me once. I looked her up and down, trying to remember all of my babysitting years, trying to drudge up anything I might have learned there. I knew a bit of child psychology, but that wasn't really my field. Still, I'd been pretty good with kids before…

My eyes locked onto a necklace; something obviously homemade, and done with inexpert hands. Her hands? "That's a nice necklace you've got there," I complimented casually. The others exchanged a _she's-finally-lost-it_ look. But I didn't pay attention to them. I knew what I was doing. Even Loki (who was watching more intently than you'd suspect) understood what I was doing. "Did you make it?"

Her eyes stayed on me as slowly, _slowly, _she nodded once. I beamed at her; I had touched on something that she took pride in, thankfully. She wouldn't have responded otherwise. "It's beautiful," I said, taking in with a glance the beads strung along the simple black yarn, and the fraying at the edges of said yarn. I scanned the beads carefully, and was rewarded with five different letters, spaced out at odd intervals that only looked cool to a child: _F-R-A-Y-E._

"Fraye?" I asked. "Is that your name?"

She nodded again, still looking at me with wide eyes. I kept smiling. Kept talking very quietly, soothingly. One advantage of _not _being like the gorgeous, insanely buff Avengers; you're not so intimidating. Anyone would underestimate me if they saw me on the street; and in this case, I probably didn't scare little kids too badly, either.

"That's a pretty name." I had to keep talking. But my eyes were continually drawn back to the cuts on her arms. "Can you tell me what happened to you, Fraye?"

Tears immediately welled up in her eyes. Bad question. "It's ok," I said quickly, but still smoothly. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But I'd like to help you." I held out my arms, still keeping them low. From the moment I first caught sight of her, one word had been ringing in my head: _abuse. _If I held my hands up too high, she might think that I was preparing to strike. My heart seemed to shatter into a billion tiny pieces as I looked at her, as I held out my hands to help her.

"I'd like to take a look at your arms, if that's all right," I said smoothly, easily, carefully. Oh-so-carefully. "I just want to make sure you're ok. Is that all right?"

She looked at me for a long time. Then slowly, ever-so-slowly, she nodded again. I gave her a small smile and took her arms in my hands, very gently, and looked over the cuts. From what I could see through the blood, they weren't too deep; in fact, it looked like we could probably get through without stitches. I let out a sigh of relief. We'd have to clean them up and bandage them, but for right now…

"Tony," I ordered in a quiet voice. "Get me some water, a towel, and some gauze." I looked to him. "Leave it _outside _the door, understood?"

He nodded and ran off. Steve and Thor were looking impressed. I wanted to roll my eyes. The guys could handle the blood-splattered battlefield, crazy Asgardians, and even a college student trapped inside an indestructible bubble, but one look at a little kid and they lost it. Incredible.

I kept talking to Fraye until Tony returned with the requested items, then gently told her that I was going to retrieve them. She let me go, sitting down on the floor and wiping her nose with the back of her hand, sniffling. I came back in with the bowl of water, towels and gauze, then quickly got to work, washing and bandaging the injuries. She let me do so, not saying a word, flinching once or twice then calming down as I quickly spouted soft reassurances. I wasn't sure what to make of the cuts; they were fine, precise and razor-thin… but I'd seen my fair share of battles in my days as a newfound superhero, and they _definitely _looked like battle scars. Not made with slow intent, but maybe in self-defense. Whatever; I didn't like it either way.

"Fraye? I'm going to take you to the doctor now, ok?" She turned her big, black eyes up to me. She hadn't said a single word to me since I'd first seen her, but already she had a pretty firm grip on my heartstrings; one look at those eyes and I positively melted. But I kept up the crisis mode. I couldn't afford to lose my concentration right now; the kid still needed help. I was no doctor. And the best we had with us right now was Banner; so that was where I was going.

The guys parted for us; Fraye buried her face into my side as we passed by them; I knelt down beside her and whispered, "It's ok, Fraye. They're not going to hurt you. They're here to help."

She whimpered a little, but, clutching my hand so tightly that I lost all feeling in my fingers, she walked by them. I could feel her trembling; she was obviously scared of something.

"JARVIS?" I called to the building. "Don't say anything. Just tell Banner that I want him to prep an area _away _from the lab. In one of the living rooms or something. And tell him absolutely _no_ n-e-e-d-l-e-s."

I looked down at the little girl. Probably way too old for the whole spell-it-out trick to work, but it was worth a go. If she noticed the forbidden word, she didn't show it; her jewel-black eyes were looking around the room, glittering with unshed tears. Every so often, she sniffed.

Tony told us which floor; and I headed down there with Fraye in tow. Words can not say how grateful I was for Bruce's always-calm-demeanor and completely unassuming manner; unlike the others, he was not quite so impressively huge. Not in this form, anyway.

He was waiting in the room for us; Fraye whimpered again, backing away from me to the other side of the room. Immediately, I dropped back into my crouch, back to her eye level. I kept up the gentle smile.

"It's ok, Fraye. Dr. Banner won't hurt you. He's one of the good guys, I promise." I held out my hand again. "Trust me?"

She looked from me to Banner and back again. Then slowly, carefully, she stepped forwards, taking my hand once more. I led her over to Bruce, who followed my lead and crouched down in front of her.

"Hello, Fraye," he said, very softly. I was pretty sure the Doc would be good with kids, and I was immediately proven right. In moments, Bruce got Fraye to allow him to help her onto the little bed that he'd wheeled into the room, and was letting him look at the bandages on her arms. I sighed in relief as I backed out of the room, over to where Tony, Steve, and Thor were waiting.

I closed the door behind me; it was glass, so Fraye could still see me; I gave her a wave and a thumbs-up before whirling to the boys.

"So, what the hell was that?" I demanded, looking to Tony and Steve. The Iron Man looked in turn to the Captain, who stepped forwards.

"I was on my way here when she just sort of… barreled into me. She looked… terrified. And there was something chasing her, something…" he frowned, looking down, as though unsure of how to phrase it. Giving me a _you-won't-believe-this-but… _look, he said, "It looked like the shadows themselves had… come alive. They were following her, chasing after her… They did that to her arms. They… cut her."

I frowned deeply, gnawing on my thumbnail. "That's impossible."

"Really? Oh, then if it's impossible, by all means, ignore the Captain completely." Stark threw up his hands.

"Hush, you," I growled at him. I was thinking. I looked to Thor. Impossible though living shadows might be, I was used to weird, and knew just how to figure it out. "You ever see anything like that?" I asked the Thunderer, "The whole 'shadow' thing?"

Thor was frowning, shaking his head slowly. "Not in all my travels of Asgard; but there are many other creatures in the nine realms that I have not encountered."

I nodded once, then turned to my other source of information on weird stuff. _Loki? Any of it sound familiar to you?_

Loki hesitated before he replied to my projected thought. To be honest, I was surprised that he answered at all. _I have seen a few creatures that are capable of shadow manipulation, _he replied, every word measured, calculated. _And some that appear to be the shadows themselves. _

I noted the fear that spiked through him as he said this; a severe, crippling thing that startled me with its intensity. Loki was rarely afraid, and _never _like that. He explained,_ most of them are… unpleasant._

I relayed his words to the others; Steve frowned at the mention of Loki's name, but he let it slide. Right now, getting intel was more important than old grudges.

"So how did she get inside the Tower?" I asked Rogers. The Soldier shrugged.

"I brought her here. After the shadows attacked, she blacked out. I carried her here; it was closer than the hospital. But when Banner started to look at her…"

"She woke up," Tony cut in. "Rogers was trying to calm her down for almost ten minutes before you arrived; I was waiting for you."

I nodded slowly, the gaps in the story filled. I looked back to Fraye, sitting on the bed, her small legs kicking back and forth restlessly as Banner continued to smile at her. There was a lot of fear in her eyes. "Well, at least we've got a name, now." I looked to the ceiling. "JARVIS, can you do a search for the name 'Fraye?' With an e. Check missing persons, contact the authorities, that sort of thing." I pressed my hand to the glass door. Fraye looked at me, black eyes wide. "See if we can find her parents."

"Of course, Miss Natalie." JARVIS' always-cool, accented voice answered. As the computer busied itself with the task I had given it, I stepped towards the door. "I'd better get back in there," I said, looking at Fraye worriedly. "She's probably still terrified out of her wits." I twisted the door handle, pushing on the glass-and-metal of the door itself, and made to step inside.

_Wait._

I froze. Loki's command rang through me, unexpectedly sharp. It locked my every muscle into place; my first reaction only to obey. There was a great deal of urgency behind the word, and yet… it was toneless. Dead. A simple, single order.

I hated that I obeyed. I shook myself out of it, bitterness and anger beginning to spark behind my eyes as I demanded, _What?_

Loki didn't reply for a long moment; I could feel him in the back of my head, his thoughts buzzing, trying to figure out what, exactly, he wanted to say, and how he wanted to say it. He picked his words with the utmost of care.

_The creatures I encountered... were relentless. _He told me at last. _If this girl has become their target, then they will return. And they will slaughter anyone who stands in their way._

There was something… _off _in his words. Something that just didn't feel right, that just didn't _click. _I scowled. _How much longer do we have to spend together before you learn that you can not __**lie**__ to me? _I asked him dangerously, my eyes narrowing. The others did not question the fact that I had simply stopped dead in my tracks, immobile, unmoving. They were used to seeing me discussing things with Loki like this.

Loki recognized the truth in my words grudgingly. He sighed; I could practically see the intense concentration in his eyes, could feel him looking down, studying the ground as though he might find answers there. Finally, he informed me, _I do not trust the child._

I lifted an eyebrow, surprised. I looked at Fraye, who was shying away a little as Bruce put some kind of medication on her wounds. _Why not? She's just a kid._

There was a long silence. Then, in a cold, lifeless tone, _It does not matter. _I could sense him, felt as though he was turning away from me, walking in the other direction; though he was no where near me, nor I, him. _You would not understand._

I scowled, but pushed through the door anyway. Loki wanted to be difficult? That was fine. But he wasn't going to scare me; this was my job. I was supposed to help people.

Not jump at shadows.

* * *

I fell back onto my bed, exhausted. I was completely spent; the day had drained me a lot more than I thought it would. I glanced to the clock; seven thirty. It wasn't even over yet; I had dinner with my parents in half an hour. I _had_ planned on changing my clothes, putting on a bit of jewelry and makeup, making myself look a bit better… but right now, all I wanted to do was take a nap. I decided I'd change my shirt and left it at that.

Jekyll, who had been on the bed before I fell down and was now serving as an incredibly fluffy pillow, nudged my cheek with a cold, wet nose. I absent-mindedly scratched him behind the ears. JARVIS had found nothing on Fraye's parents; and though the police had been contacted, they were having a hard time buying the whole 'attacking shadows' story. Hell, _I _was having a hard time buying it, and I was an indestructible college student with a crazy Asgardian living in her brain.

Of course, I'd skipped out before the cops arrived; no one really knew who Natalie Frost was, or that she was hanging around the Avengers, and Fury wanted to _keep _it that way. Particularly seeing as a young woman had been seen attacking the Avengers a year ago; though no one had gotten a close enough look at her to make a positive ID, and the force field bubble scrambled any pictures that were taken. But if the cops saw someone of the same general height, build, etc. hanging around Stark Tower… someone might put two and two together.

Still, despite how I'd left the Tower a while ago, my mind was still there. Still on Fraye. I was worried about her. I'd already decided not to tell my parents about the strange girl. Even though I told them most everything in my life these days, they had enough to worry about without learning that shadows could attack people; or that said shadows were apparently targeting a young child. And, if Loki was to be trusted- and he usually wasn't- that those shadows would be relentless in their pursuit of her. It was always the worst part about hanging out with the Avengers; those times when civilians got involved. I now saw why the Avengers had been so upset when Stark's tech had 'escaped' and transferred into my bloodstream; the idea of someone outside of our world being injured because of the things we faced- things like Loki, like these shadows- it was… horrible. And Fraye was just a _child…_

Loki stirred restlessly in the back of my head, and I sighed heavily, pushing the thoughts aside. His uneasiness about the young girl was becoming infectious; though I interpreted it differently than he did. I was worried for her, I'll admit, but Loki seemed worried… _about _her. I rolled my eyes and turned to the side, stroking my Jekyll-pillow carefully. I closed my eyes, wishing beyond belief that I could just pass out for the next few hours, just wake up and have the dinner done and over with…

I ended up dozing for about twenty minutes; then I forced myself to get up and get moving. I changed my shirt as planned, then threw my jacket over it, zipping it up as I went to the garage. Jekyll followed me around the house, then whined a little when I closed the door, leaving him behind.

"Hey, you're the one who's getting off easy, here," I said to him as I headed towards the Frost-Cycle. My mother did _not _approve of the new ride, but it was the quickest way from A to B, and I had to be there in a hurry.

I ended up being about five minutes late, but I stalled outside of the restaurant anyway, trying to delay the inevitable. My mind spun as I tried to think of things to say, safe conversations and easy topics. We were quickly running out of those.

I swallowed, smoothed out my shirt, and walked inside. I headed to the front desk, a little nervous. "Um… table for three? Frost?"

The man recognized the name immediately; my parents must have already been there. He smiled and said, "Of course. Right this way, miss."

I followed, catching sight of my parents as he lead me inside; my mother waved at me, an enormous grin on her face, and my father gave me a little smile. I shot him an uneasy one in return as I sat down in the seat facing the door, my eyes naturally doing a routine check of the exits, my mind formulating battle strategies. It was a trick that Clint and Natasha had taught me; and, surprisingly, it actually helped me to relax in situations like this. Knowing where your escape routes were came in handy when you felt like you would have to use them.

"You're late," my mother started immediately.

"Ah… work issues," I explained. She turned a little paler. My mother had been pretty cool about the whole 'my-daughter-is-the-shrink-to-the-Avengers-and-a-p sycho-Asgardian' thing… for about two seconds. After that, the fear had taken hold; and while she didn't try and stop me from doing my job, she started shaking practically every time it was brought up. Given that the Avengers were a majority of my life, my mother was living in a practically constant state of fear these days.

My father was a lot better about it; trying to get on my good side, methinks. He hadn't been a part of my life for a good thirteen years, hadn't been really my 'dad' for a long time… we both were pretty adamant that he shouldn't try and start filling that role right now and tell me what to do. We were working on him becoming my father in the good, emotional, touchy-feely sense; but he didn't have the right to lecture me like my mother did.

My only work-related issue that I had to avoid talking about with my dad was Loki; he tried to be understanding about the whole thing, but after what Loki had done to him, he found it difficult that I was working so hard to forgive him, to help him, instead of leaving him in his cell to rot. Cameron's anger at Loki had started as mere irritation; but it had quickly enflamed into a raging inferno. But, as Loki constituted a large part of my working life as well, he was a hard subject to avoid.

"Oh?" Cameron pulled me back to the conversation, stirring his water with a straw absentmindedly. Just like I frequently did. "How's that going?"

"Pretty good," I answered. I wasn't sure if I was lying or not.

My mother's eyes flickered to the windows, where my motorcycle could be seen in the parking lot. She must have seen me coming. "Still riding that death trap, I see."

I struggled with a grin. If she only knew. I'd surrendered the bike to Tony a few months back, after he'd annoyed me into submission. I still didn't know all of the things he'd done to it, but I knew that a majority of them weren't exactly 'family friendly'. "Hey, don't hate on the Frost-Cycle. It gets me from here to there a lot faster than anything else."

"And yet, you're still late."

Cameron chuckled. "She's got you there, Nat."

My eyes narrowed. "This is a conspiracy, isn't it?"

My parents laughed as the waiter came up to take our orders. I glanced at the menu quickly while my parents placed their orders, then asked for a glass of water and a salad. I had to cut back on the junk food; Tony's continuing 'pizza girl' joke ensured that I had the stuff at least three or four times a week.

I saw my parents' hands link together, wedding rings catching the light, and a lump formed in my throat. But I was determined to be the cool daughter about the whole thing, so I forced a little smile on my face, as though I was glad to see it; when, in reality, a bitter taste flooded my mouth.

"So what did you guys do today?" I asked, then took a sip of my water in an effort to wash the bitterness away. "Anything interesting happen at work?"

"Not really," My mother said with a shrug. My mom had a lovely little desk job in a tight little cubicle, surrounded on all sides by four little walls that were papered with whatever she could find to liven them up. I always felt sorry for her; I think I'd go insane, trapped in a box like that, with nothing to lighten the mood, to alleviate the dull, tedious boredom of life.

"I had the day off," My dad replied, also shrugging. Then he smiled. "Face it, Natalie. You've got the most interesting job here."

True. But I didn't like talking about it with them. And he knew that. Which meant that either he was ignoring that… or he was trying to make another effort at understanding my life and its quirks. I hid a frown. This never ended well. And I was already exhausted; I didn't think I could deal with tiptoeing around my words any more than I already was.

I scrambled to think of another conversation, some way to switch subjects. Loki, as usual, was no help whatsoever, spending the vast majority of his time in my brain being completely and utterly useless. I knew he was watching; he was _always _watching. There's not much else to do when you're locked away in a prison cell, with darkness all around you…

I pushed the thoughts aside. I was currently irritated at Loki. Pity wasn't supposed to get involved.

"Yeah, but nothing really happened today," I said, trying to keep from being too blunt and failing miserably. A perfect example of Natalie Frost Tact. "Usual. Boring stuff."

"Oh, come on," my mother joined in. It really _was _a conspiracy! "You rarely talk about your job anymore; or any of your friends. You rarely talk about _anything_."

Now I knew how kids with so-called 'normal families' felt; and it sucked big time. Parents ganging up on you all the time and crap; I was totally outnumbered. It was just playing dirty.

"I don't really have anything to say," I lied coldly. "I went to the Tower. Tony whooped my butt in our video game tournament, and now I have to do his dishes. Most exciting part of my day."

_Liar, _Loki chided; I could hear the smile in his voice. Smug, arrogant, irritating little piece of…

"There has to be something else," My mother insisted. Once she gets something in her head, there is no stopping that woman. Arguing with her is about as useful as arguing with a tank; and about as much fun, too. "Which patient did you see today? Other than Tony?"

Moment of truth. Lying would protect my mother's fragile sense of safety. Telling the truth would end in heartache and misery.

As usual, the truth wasn't putting up much of a fight.

I had already decided to say 'Banner' (He was good at covering for me if I got caught in a lie, and rarely gave me a lecture for it afterwards), but then Loki decided to amp up the irritating.

He had been known to say things through me before; to hijack my voice and pretend it was me talking. Once to Natasha, saying something about 'red in her ledger', and once to Thor; demanding to know if he was his brother's equal now, when Mjolnir had failed to destroy my little bubble. And now, he spoke directly to my parents; forcing my voice to be cool, calm, collected.

"Loki, of course," I said; or _he _said. "Who else?"

Again, my mother turned a little bit paler. My father looked away; the 'who else' part really wasn't helping things, I was sure. I clapped my hands over my mouth, a thousand curses stringing off in my head; curses in English, Spanish, Danish, and a few that I'd picked up on Asgard. Loki chuckled quietly.

I stood, pushing my chair back as I did so. "Would-you-excuse-me-for-a-second?" I hissed the words out through my teeth, and they blurred into one. It was probably not a good idea to disappear right now; my parents would know for sure that something was up, but at the moment I didn't care so much. I wanted to have a screaming match with my least favorite Frost Giant.

I stalked to the bathroom, grinding my teeth together as I went, going faster with each step. I closed and locked the door behind me, then looked into the mirror.

"What the hell was _that?_" I demanded of him, looking dead in the eye of my reflection.

"Norse god of Mischief," his voice said aloud; I turned and saw a projection of him, leaning against the grimy tile walls. A smirk danced on his face. "Remember?"

"This is revenge for this morning, isn't it?"

"Quite possibly."

"You're a jerk."

He didn't respond. Merely snickered. I jabbed a finger in his face. "Don't do that again, or we're going to have some _serious _problems. _Got it?"_

He lifted an eyebrow, still smiling. He had these days sometimes; days where he decided that it would be fun to just screw with my head for no particular reason. "I swear," he said casually, raising a hand, a mocking glint in his eye. Lying through his perfect Asgardian teeth.

"I _mean _it, Loki! This is my _family, _and you _know it!_" I drew an imaginary horizontal line in the tile between us with the toe of my shoe."Here is the line, here is me drawing the line, and here is you _crossing the line!_"

I had thought that this had been established. After all, it had been _Loki's _idea to return my father to his normal state over a year ago; determined to erase his influence from my life before we broke our connection, trying to make a difference, trying to repair the damage he'd caused. He rarely meddled in my family affairs since; and indeed, he always showed a shade more interest in my life whenever I was around my parents.

But right now… He shrugged. "I am not bound by anything to adhere to your codes, Miss Frost."

"You aren't supposed to hurt me. You're not _able _to hurt me."

"Oh, but you _wanted _to tell the truth," He pointed out, his head tilting to the side as he stood up, away from the wall, coming within a few inches of me. It was just a projection; I could walk right through it, if so inclined. But it was still a bit uncomfortable. I stood my ground anyway, looking him right in the eye, trying to stand tall despite how I was shorter than him.

"I'm not trying to _hurt_ you, Natalie. I'm trying to _help_ you." This mischievous, roguish look on his face twisted a little, becoming downright hostile. "You want to be closer to your parents, don't you? To stop _lying _to them?"

My eyes narrowed into thin slits. I hated him and his 'logic'. He had a nasty habit of bending it to his will. But I knew that he was also lying; and I didn't need the link to see it. He was trying to punish me for earlier… or maybe… just maybe…

I decided to throw back a bit of logic of my own; only logic with my personal, psychiatric flare. I crossed my arms, shifting my weight to my right foot, planting myself in the ground, immobile, immovable. Stubborn and steady as a rock. "You're trying to hurt me, knowing it'll hurt you in return. A twisted form of self-inflicted injury." I tapped my fingers on my arm. "So, in your nightmares, what exactly did you _do_ that was so wrong?"

He seemed slightly taken aback; but he smothered it quickly. Instead, he gave me a questioning look; trying to see how I'd arrived at that conclusion. I rolled my eyes and elaborated, "Obviously it was something in your nightmares; because you don't do anything else, _go _anywhere else. But you're angry at yourself for something; something that you did in a dream, something that you feel like you'll do, something that you are capable of." My eyes narrowed, flashing back to what he'd said about dreams being a warning. "Something you worry you _will _do."

He swallowed; I saw the action in his throat. I gave him a dazzling-if slightly twisted- smile of my own. "I spent a few months with you giving me dreams about killing my friends and family. Believe me. I know what it's like."

He scowled. Yeah, that's right, screw your logic. I got my own. But then, after a moment, the smile returned; back in full force. "Or perhaps these dreams simply have to do with my Jotun nature; does that not tend to have the same effect? Or maybe they have something to do with something I have _already _done? Or perhaps they involve my family; my father, my brother?" He chuckled. "Continue guessing, Miss Frost. And in the meantime…"

His words came out of my lips again, and I found myself saying, "Enjoy your dinner."

He vanished from sight as I sounded off another string of profanity. I was so doomed.

I plodded out of the room, my heart heavy, my feat like lead. I walked to the table where my parents sat and threw my purse over my shoulder. "Sorry guys. Avengers business. Dinner's gonna have to wait."

My mother frowned, giving me her patented 'Mom Stare'; that perfect little blend of disappointment, puppy dog eyes, and most importantly, _guilt._ Making me feel bad was a special talent of hers. "But you just got here!"

"And now I'm just leaving." I lifted my eyebrow, determined not to buckle under the weight of her stare. "Look, you know what it means to be around me. Stuff happens. Things come up. I can't stop it."

"Natalie…" My father said warningly. My eyes whipped to him, glinting a little. Daring him to say more. He took me up on it. "Look, we know that wasn't you." As if I hadn't made it glaringly obvious, stalking away like I had. "But we know… that Loki is a part of you. That sometimes, you can't stop the things he does. And we understand." He squeezed my mother's hand a little tighter, and she squeezed back; as though the two were using each other, drawing strength from one another. "But we're not going to let him damage this family any more than he already has. I refuse to let that happen again."

That was all fine and good and mushy-gushy, but what happened when Loki said something _really _ugly? They didn't understand; he was on a self-injuring kick; he'd say _anything _to put me, and thus himself, in pain. _Anything. _

"Thanks Cameron, but no thanks." I said. My mother gave me a look at the use of his first name, but he, at least, knew that I was having a hard time saying 'dad'. "This relationship is complicated already," I went on, "It's best to just back away when Loki is having a bad day, all right? That way nothing is said that will be regretted later; by _anyone._"

My father's face set in a little frown. "Natalie, we know that it isn't your fault. You've got a crazy Asgardian with a sadistic streak in your brain; we're not going to _blame _you for the things that _he _does. We never have before."

I found my hands tightening into fists. My teeth clenched so tightly that my jaw began to ache. He was just trying to do what was best, I got it, but still… I resented what he'd said. _I_ referred to Loki like that all the time: the Norse god of Crazy Pants, the Sadistic Psychopath in my Brain, etc, etc. But I knew where the line was. I said that because I _knew _that wasn't all that defined him; I said that because it was just my habit of nicknaming people, of being sarcastic and sardonic. But my father… he didn't know Loki, not like I did… and hearing him do the same kind of riled me. Mostly because when he said it, it was completely genuine; that was really all he saw Loki as.

And that was everything I was fighting against.

Loki wasn't just a 'bad guy'. That was the whole reason that I had done this, the reason that I forced myself to go to Asgard at least twice a week, the reason that I dealt with his snide little comments in my head all the time. I was determined to stop him from falling into that category, stop him from being a monster. The fact that my parents _knew_ that he was having a bad day, _knew_ that he would keep doing things like this in an attempt to hurt me-and himself… and yet, they wanted me to stay anyway? When it would mean that he would keep doing this kind of stuff? It drove me crazy. For crying out loud, that was everything I was trying to _stop._

I took a deep breath in through my nose, then let it out through my mouth, forcing myself to cool down. "I'm not going to put Loki into this kind of situation just for the sake of having a dinner that we can easily reschedule. He's had a long day; we both have." I met both of their gazes in turn, then readjusted my purse on my shoulder. "I hope you two have fun. If you'll excuse me…"

And I walked out the door.


	3. Innocence Lost

**A/N: Just recently realized that 'Midguard' is spelt 'Midgard', without the 'u'… *headdesk*. I feel really brilliant (not). I'll be trying to spell it correctly from now on, mmkay? **

**FINALLY! A longer chapter! And, you know, hopefully more exciting than the last one, sorry if it bored you guys. :D Also, really sorry for the late update. **

* * *

I couldn't sleep. I'd been lying awake for hours now, after having a nightmare of my own; one that included me running down a hallway filled with broken glass, only to encounter a piece that was, in fact, a mirror shard, and to catch sight of my reflection in it. Only it wasn't _my _reflection. I mean, it was definitely me, but the creature in the mirror was… well, a Frost Giant.

You ever see a female Frost Giant? Yeah, me neither. My brain came up with a seriously weird mental picture.

And now… now I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling in the darkness, unable to even close my eyes. Stupid Loki with his stupid nightmares… he was fast asleep, and let me tell you, his dreams were far less tame. I'm talking blood, guts and gore _everywhere_. Though I'd decided that I would start monitoring his dreams, and as hard as I'd tried, it had been way too terrifying to plunge into his nightmares, even for a second. I had my own nightmares. I didn't need his, too.

And each second I spent in his dreams felt like they were reality; I was dimly aware that I was dreaming, that this was _his _dream, due to a certain aura that surrounded it… But that knowledge was hidden far away, deep in the corners of my mind. For those few moments, I had been dragged into the nightmare, lost to the darkness that cloaked his dreaming. It took me a long time before I realized that this was _his _dream, not mine; and even longer to realize that I could escape it. It was… unnerving.

But right now, I was awake from my _own_ bad dreams. I glared at Jekyll, who was lying by the door to my room, on the floor, curled up tightly with his nose tucked into his tail. After a long, tiring day of naps, he was completely dead to the world, passed out and oblivious. I was jealous of him; and not for the first time. Dogs have it easy. Way too easy.

I pushed myself out of the bed, sitting on the edge for a moment and rubbing my hands over my face before standing and walking over to him. Crouching in front of him, I shook him gently.

"Get up, fuzz face."

He was awake in seconds, dark eyes glittering with a vague sense of intelligence. He yawned massively, showing off impressively sharp teeth, and stood when I pushed past him, opening the door. He followed me as I left the room, immediately awake, completely ready and willing for whatever I wanted to do. Absorbed in my every action, monitoring my every footstep, like something important and dangerous would happen if he wasn't watching every second of my life.

I shuffled out of the room, scratching my head and blinking a few times. I glanced to the clock and grimaced. I knew that I would never be able to stay up until the morning and stay awake the whole day following as well. But there was no way I was going back to sleep, either. Definitely a no-win situation.

I took a shower, trying to clear my head, then threw on some jeans and a T-shirt, grabbing my helmet and making for the door. I put Jekyll on a leash, and his tail wagged like crazy as I dragged him along, going towards my old bicycle. For some reason, I didn't want to leave him behind. As I slipped the leash over the handlebars and started towards the Tower, he ran alongside, keeping pace with me fairly easily; though I had to slow down a few times to let him keep up with me.

My worries for Fraye had continued long after I'd left the Tower; and long after my short 'dinner' with my parents. Since I left before the cops came, I didn't know what had happened; if her parents had been found, if the shadows had come back… I was completely in the dark. I hated it, hated not knowing. I was going psycho, just waiting to figure it out; so I headed towards the Tower, worry still churning in my gut. Fraye was just a little girl, after all… and she'd been scared half to death…

Tony would be awake, anyway; he usually was. Geniuses keep odd hours; so if not him, then Banner, if he was still there. And if neither of the science boys, well, there was bound to be _some _Avenger in the place who wasn't snoozing. Superheroes don't always work well with the whole 'eight-hours-of-sleep-every-day' thing.

I snorted to myself as I realized that I now seemed to fit that profile. I was far from a superhero. I wasn't even close.

_Well,_ I reasoned as I pulled into the garage, _if no one else is awake, then JARVIS will be._ But my worries were for naught; both Tony and Bruce were still very much awake. Tony was typing into his computer, his eyes ringed with dark circles, and Bruce was watching kiddy cartoons with a wide-eyed Fraye, who was curled up on the couch next to him. Her head, surrounded by matted black hair, was resting on his lap, and his hand was placed comfortingly on her shoulder. Her little hands were clenched in fists, held close to her body, constantly defensive despite how relaxed she looked. Her jewel-black eyes were locked on the screen, watching intently, with no sign of sleep anywhere on her face.

Tony was in the room directly outside of the one she and Banner occupied; on seeing me and Jekyll, he turned and smiled in a worn-out way. "The cops tried to take her," he explained, gesturing to Fraye through the glass door. "But the shadows came back."

I frowned, sympathy spiking through my heart. Now that Loki was asleep, I didn't have his paranoia tempering that pity; I could feel exactly the way I wanted to feel. It was a nice change of pace. "Any luck on finding her parents?"

Tony shook his head. "None. She said her last name was 'Burns'; so we did a little digging. There's absolutely nothing on her folks." His eyes went to mine. "She said the shadows got them."

"She's been speaking, then?" I asked, pushing aside another onslaught of empathy, forcing it away so that I could think on more practical concerns.

"A few things, here and there," Stark answered. "She likes Bruce, but she's still a little nervous around the rest of us. Can't tell why."

I rolled my eyes. "Maybe because you're all tall, buff, and totally threatening?"

Tony looked to me. "You think I'm buff?" he asked, his eyes twinkling roguishly.

I sighed heavily. No use explaining to him how every last one of the Avengers was ripped beyond belief; or completely and utterly beautiful besides. It would just inflate his already swelled head. "She's a little kid, Tone." I said, ignoring him. "Of course she's going to be nervous around you."

"Seemed to take to you pretty quick."

"I'm different." I slouched against the wall, leaning my shoulder into the corner between that and the door. "I don't look so dangerous. Not at first glance, anyway."

"Second glance doesn't exactly make you seem like 'America's Most Wanted', either."

I didn't respond. I didn't want to explain that little kids tended to know whether or not you were a good person; and that was why I'd stopped babysitting in the first place. It was inevitable that one of them would realize I was a monster someday…

I shook myself out of it. It was no time to allow old anxieties to get the best of me. "Mind if I bunk here tonight?" I asked Tony. "I'll take my old room, I just…" I shrugged. "I couldn't sleep."

"Sure," he answered easily, turning back to his screens. He still let me keep up my old room at the Tower from time to time; the request wasn't so unusual.

"Thanks." I studied Fraye as Jekyll pranced around my feet, entangling my ankles in his leash. I pulled myself out of the knot he'd created as I looked at her. She was so small, so weak and defenseless…

"Hey, Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"Those shadows… what do you think they are?"

He paused. Then, slowly, carefully, he turned to me. His eyes were grave, and dead serious; more so than I'd seen in a long time.

"I don't know," he said at last. "And, in all honesty…" There was almost fear in his eyes. "After seeing those things… I don't think I _want _to know."

I swallowed dryly. Tony was a hard person to scare. If _this _scared him, then…

I shuddered and looked back to the glass door, to the room where Fraye rested. She curled in on herself a little tighter, and Banner gently stroked her hair back, trying to be consoling, comforting. If these shadows could scare Tony, then who knew what they were doing to that poor child…

I tugged on Jekyll's leash gently, leading him inside, and he followed me as I entered the room. Bruce and Fraye both looked up at the sound of the door opening-with Fraye wincing slightly- and I smiled gently at them both. She sat upright on the couch, staring at me with a trace of worry.

"Hey, kiddo," I greeted Fraye, crouching down despite how I was at the opposite end of the room from her. She looked at me, eyes wide as they traveled across my face, then to Jekyll. A tentative little smile began to appear on her lips. I followed her gaze and grinned.

"You like the puppy?" I asked, stroking Jekyll's head a few times. His eyes had similarly locked on Fraye, and the hackles on the back of his neck started to rise. He was occasionally nervous around new people, but never violent, so I didn't think much of it. "This is Jekyll."

Her head tilted to the side. "Puppy…" She breathed quietly, reaching out a hand… after a moment, however, she seemed to remember who she was and pulled it back, looking nervous.

I grinned at her. "It's ok, Fraye. He won't bite."

She stayed where she was, her legs kicking back and forth as she studied the carpet. Cautiously, I lead Jekyll towards her. He resisted, tugging against his leash and whimpering a little. I rolled my eyes.

"Come on, you little coward," I chided him. You never knew what he'd do around new people; sometimes he absolutely loved them. He'd taken to Thor in a heartbeat, and Steve in seconds. Sometimes, like with Tony, he'd get all nervous and shy. Dogs.

He let me lead him up to Fraye, and she reached out her hand. "Let him sniff your hand, first," I told her. "It'll let him know that you're friendly."

She nodded, though she seemed to already be doing so before I even said a word, as though she already knew what she was supposed to do. Her pale, tiny little fingers came within an inch of Jekyll's nose; he sniffed them carefully…

Then, suddenly, the hackles on the back of his neck went straight up. His fur stood on end, poofed out like a cornered cat's. A low growl began to build in the back of his throat, and it got louder and louder as he tried harder and harder to wrench away from his leash; when he saw that was no good, he stood between me and her, growling even louder.

"Jekyll!" I scolded, completely stunned. I pulled him back quickly. There was a reason I named him after the good guy, a reason there was no 'Hyde' to counterpart him. The stupid mutt wouldn't hurt a fly; there were days when I thought that, if a burglar were to enter my house, Jekyll would just roll onto his back and expect the thief to rub his tummy. 'Docile' didn't even come close to describing what a complete wuss this dog was.

But now… his lips were curled back from those sharp white teeth; and, with them so close to Fraye's tiny little fingers, I started to worry.

"Sorry, Fraye, he's a little antsy," I said quickly, trying to cover it, trying to remain soothing… but she seemed oddly unafraid.

"S'ok," She said in a quiet voice; slowly, she lowered herself from the couch, dropping down to her knees in front of Jekyll.

"That's probably not such a good idea…" I said slowly as she knelt at his eye level, reaching her hands out towards him. She gently gripped both sides of the dog's fuzzy face, forcing his gaze to hers. He continued to growl for a long moment, but it slowly trailed off into a whimper. He lowered himself onto the ground and rolled onto his back, paws in the air. Fraye giggled softly.

"Good puppy," She cooed, running her fingers along his stomach. He whined a little. Something stirred in my chest, a hollow, cold feeling… suspicion. Jekyll never reacted like this. Not around _anyone. _And now that Loki was asleep, now that his emotions weren't clouding mine, now that I wasn't so irritated at him for being so distrustful, my own true feelings could come through. I looked at Fraye, a bit warily, as she giggled, burying her face in the little white patch on Jekyll's chest.

A vague sense of unease settled in the back of my mind, and though I tried to push it aside, to shove it away… it lingered. Fraye's big black eyes turned up to me after a moment, wide and imploring. My thoughts halted in their tracks, everything inside me freezing up under her gaze.

"We used to have a puppy," she said, her lower lip jutting out a little. "Me and mommy and…" She looked down at Jekyll, stroking him absently. "Daddy," she managed to finish, but it was broken, strained. She brushed tiny tears out of her eyes with small fingers, sniffing a little. Her gaze suddenly shifted back to me, a little bit more urgent now. "You'll find them, right, Nat'lee? You'll find my mommy and daddy, right?"

Ok. Heartstrings sufficiently tugged. I totally lost it, crouching down next to her and wrapping my arms around her gently. "Of course we will, Fraye. Of course we will. We won't stop searching until we find them, I promise." I held her a little closer. She was just… so fragile. "I promise…" I repeated in a breath.

I sat with Fraye and Bruce for a good few hours, watching a mindless kid's show that was all about friendship and lollipops, probably meant for kids much younger than Fraye's age group, but she didn't seem to mind. Jekyll, tail between legs, was positioned at the farthest corner of the room, standing sentry by the door, his ears continually up and his fur constantly bristling. I ignored him as Fraye cuddled up next to me. Tony was right. She'd seemed to have taken a serious liking to me, and the feeling was mutual… most of the time. Every time she spoke, every time she called me 'Nat'lee', every time those big black eyes turned to me… I would completely break down and just want to hold her close, to protect her from whatever darkness the world was throwing at her; even if that darkness was alive, if the shadows themselves were hurting her. The bandages on her arms made wave upon wave of sympathy crash over me, as did the way she would shiver unexpectedly, the way she was so thin and fragile…

But why the _hell _didn't she call me 'Nat'?

It was such a simple little thing, so incongruous, so completely inconsistent with everything else that was going on in her life. It was such a small issue, so much so that it was almost nonexistent… but it nagged at the back of my mind, anyway. What little kid would _immediately _skip to saying 'Nat'lee'? I mean, probably a lot of them, right? It was no big deal… but it just seemed _strange _that she went right for that, instead of trying out 'Nat' a few times. 'Nat' was easier. Simpler. Kids like easy and simple.

Bruce probably told her not to call me that. Or Tony. It was no big deal. I mean, how else could she _possibly _know that it was a bad thing to refer to me as, _possibly _know that it made me cringe every time I heard it? She couldn't. I was being ridiculous.

Another whimper escaped through Jekyll's teeth as Fraye yawned, curling up closer next to me, her big eyes slowly closing. Bruce had draped a blanket over her small form, and she was slowly beginning to nod off. It was absolutely precious. Undeniably, unreservedly, _unbelievably _adorable.

It was a manipulation.

My fingers drummed out a quiet rhythm on the armrest as Fraye's breathing became deeper, more even. Her eyes stayed closed. After a moment, tiny little snores came out from her; she was out cold. I stayed where I was, letting her sleep… but my eyes kept flicking to her, searching her face for any signs of malice or deceit. Any hint at deception. But her features were perfectly neutral, made expressionless by sleep. I was being paranoid. I was always paranoid.

But just 'cause you're paranoid… it doesn't mean they're _not _out to get you, right?

And then there was the fact that … as peeved as Loki had made me, as frustrated as I'd gotten at him… he didn't trust her, either. His suspicion was far more pronounced than mine, but still.

Besides; when the Norse god of Mischief stops lying long enough to tell you he doesn't trust some one, it doesn't matter how badly he gets on your nerves. You shut up and you _listen. _Loki was an irritating, pompous, selfish, arrogant, annoying, self-righteous son of a bitch, it was true; but he was no fool. He'd seen things, in his days before his travels to Earth, in the days of his so-called 'exile' from Asgard… when his world thought him dead, when his family mourned… He had gathered information, had traveled the universe, had seen entire worlds before he had procured his army. He knew things about the universe that none of us did; and that apparently included things that could manipulate shadows. He'd talked about creatures with the ability to do so; and these shadows were attacking Fraye. He had to know something more about it than I did.

Carefully, gently, I lifted Fraye's tiny head off of my lap and moved her over to Banner; she stirred, her eyes opening blearily, but I whispered, "It's ok, Fraye. Go back to sleep." And she obeyed, curling up in a tight ball on the couch. Bruce watched me go curiously, but he said nothing as I left the room, Jekyll close on my heels.

Tony had moved from the computer screen and was now working with holo-projections, studying calculations and blueprints that I couldn't make sense of. I looked them over for a moment, making an attempt, but it was all lost in a blur of math; which, it has been said before, holds a personal vendetta against me. This science-y stuff was always more April's thing, anyway.

April.

_That's it._

I went up to Tony, a new urgency fueling my footsteps. I'd visited her this morning, but… it always helped me when I was curious. The cemetery would be closed right now, though; which is why I needed Stark's help. I waited beside him for a long moment, until, finally, he seemed to notice my presence and turned. He lifted his eyebrows questioningly.

"I need something that can pick a lock, no questions asked."

He blinked once, then shrugged. "Going to visit her again?" He questioned, moving to the other side of the room, looking around for something. He found it and tossed it in my direction; a small, silver-and-red object.

I plucked it out of the air, catching it with ease. Tony's version of a pocketknife; the thing could be lethal. But it had what I was looking for.

Natasha and Clint had insisted that I learn how to pick a lock, adamant that it was a necessary skill for survival. But I used that skill for a large number of other things these days.

"That's twice today, isn't it?" Tony inquired.

"I guess," I said coldly, stuffing the object in my pocket and tightening Jekyll's leash on my wrist. Tony gave me a look, and I turned my eyes away. "What do you want me to say? It's been a rough twenty-four hours."

He half-raised his hands in false surrender. "Who am I to judge? I've still got her number in JARVIS' database."

I don't know why that made me smile, but it did. I tugged on Jekyll's leash carefully. "I'll be back," I informed Stark, heading back out towards the garage, where my bicycle waited. I fastened my helmet's buckle under my chin, slipped Jekyll's leash over the handlebars, and started off.

It was not the first time I had broken in to the graveyard. It wouldn't be my last, either. Like I said; I keep odd hours. But, beyond that… it was always harder to come here in the day, knowing that at any second, April's mother could barge in and start ranting about how I wasn't supposed to be there, how I was the reason April was dead in the first place, how it was and always would be my fault. At least when the place was supposed to be closed, when the gate was locked… I could have some time alone with her.

I tied Jekyll up in the side with my bike, then walked to the front gate and got to work. The lock was simple, on a thick, heavy chain; I got through it without much problem. I'd done my research on this place, looking for any other kind of security; so long as I was careful, I was relatively safe.

Once I'd broken into the lock, I closed the gate behind me and slunk in the darkness over to the farthest back corner, where April's grave resided beside Phil Coulson's. I navigated my way through the shadows easily, arriving at my destination in a matter of moments.

The place wasn't well lit, as you can imagine, so I pulled a flashlight from my jacket pocket, shining it on the grave in question. I smiled sadly as I read the name there and slowly lowered myself to the ground, sitting on the grass in front of it.

"Hey, crazy," I greeted her; as though she was still alive. I always talked to her like that, always acted as though she was still standing there, still talking with me, still laughing it up like the old days. It was a lot harder to come up with conversations these days, as she was usually the one who did most of the talking; and I would listen. That was always my job, my role; I listened to her. To everyone. I tried to solve everyone else's problems. That was who I was.

But… when I really needed someone to talk to… I always went to her. Not my mom, or my teachers, or any of my other friends. Even the Avengers couldn't help me when I was at my lowest; it was always April.

And that was why I was here now.

I took a deep breath. I never knew how to start these things, so usually I just blurted everything out. And that's exactly what I did; I explained in detail everything that had happened in the few hours since I'd last seen her, filling in things from what I'd told her before. I babbled for a long time about Fraye, about my suspicions, about Loki.

It seemed horribly ironic, that the only person I felt comfortable discussing Loki with was the one person who'd truly lost everything to him; the one casualty in his most recent power play. But April was one of the most mild, happy-go-lucky, could-care-less people I'd ever met. She never held a grudge for anything a day in her life. She was just sort of like that; a genuinely nice person. And, though there were always days when I worried about being as close as I was to Loki, worried that I was betraying her memory by doing so… I had to believe that she would slap me out of it and say, "Don't be such an idiot! If you don't try and help him, no one will! Then someone else'll die! And then you'd feel _really _stupid, wouldn't you?"

I smiled a little to myself as I voiced my worries out loud. In the still night air, they seemed tiny and pointless, standing against the enveloping darkness. Put back in their place, back where they belonged, back into insignificance.

"So that's the gist of it," I concluded lamely. "And I just… I don't know what to do with this kid. I mean, I want to help her, but…" I leaned back on my hands, the flashlight on the ground next to me, and sighed heavily. "I want to listen to Loki, too. To at least make an effort at trusting him." I glanced to the headstone. "Does that make any sen-"

Something flickered in the corner of my vision, and I shut up abruptly. Moving with the speed and reflexes that I never had before I started hanging out with the Avengers, I flicked the flashlight off, gripping it tightly, my heart immediately beginning to pound. I wasn't worried about the usual fiends in the night; but if some night watchman found me out here right now, I was busted. I strained to see in the dark, my eyes still too used to the light to adjust to the blackness so quickly.

I listened to the silence, straining my ears for any noise. In the darkness, nothing moved. Nothing breathed. There was the barest whisper of wind that shifted through the grass, but the world was otherwise still. The only sound was my own quiet breathing in my ears.

At first.

For a long time, it was so utterly quiet and still that I convinced myself I was just imagining things. I'd begun to stand, to put my flashlight in my pocket, when a low, trembling vibration began to ripple through the air.

I couldn't _hear _anything, per se, not initially. It was deeper than that… more _primal _than that. I could _sense _the noise, could feel it down in my bones, resonating with my heartbeat. A primeval instinct, brought out by the animal within… this feeling wavered in the darkness around me, a subtle sense that vibrated against my ribs.

It slowly began to build from there; becoming harsher and harsher, more and more intense. My bones began to rattle, my entire body trembling. My heartbeat went up, faster than before, each beat sounding like the tattoo of a war drum, pounding inside my head.

When the sound finally reached my ears, it translated as a low, guttural growl. It echoed deep within the very core of my being, growing louder and louder with each passing second… I gave in and flicked my flashlight on at last, sending it in a sweeping arc at the area surrounding me…

It was knocked out of my hand abruptly, a chaotic swirl of jagged light following its path into the grass, where it shone uselessly at the ground. I stumbled back, trying to determine what, exactly, had knocked it from my grasp… and the growling grew louder, shattering the night, obliterating the stillness…

I tried to focus my fear into fury, to use it, to force myself to _think…_ It didn't work. Not only was my ever-handy indestructible side not making an appearance, but I wasn't even glowing yet; my fear was blocking the anger, keeping me from reacting as I needed to. I was overwhelmed by the mortal terror that had started to overcome me. My hands were trembling; I had a very distinct sense of the order of things; the status of the world around me. To be more exact, I had a true idea about the meaning of 'predator and prey'. I could feel my role in the food chain diminishing; I was no longer the hunter in the world.

I was the prey. I was being hunted. I didn't know how I knew this, but I knew that it was true, knew it somewhere within my suddenly fragile-seeming heart.

But what the hell _was _it?

I sensed something moving closer to me; something _huge. _I felt it tickling against my cheek, felt its hot breath on my back as it circled me, slowly, _slowly, _again and again. I stayed perfectly still, trying not to move, trying not to breathe…

_April's grave is nearby…_

_**Don't let it touch her.**_

It was a very nonsensical thought; a random idea drawn out of no where, pulled from thin air. I should have been more worried about myself, should have cared less for the dead… but I'd spent so many years before now trying to protect the people I cared about that it seemed… unimportant, that I had already failed. So I grasped the thought tightly, clinging to it in desperation, using it. It didn't matter how ridiculous it was, how illogical I was being; right now, I needed to be angry. I needed to be _furious. _I needed to be hell-bent on destruction and I needed it _now._

It worked. That single thought flowed through my veins, scorching my blood, and my fury became a tangible, palpable thing; a glow spread across my body, bright and searing in the darkness, illuminating my foe.

As soon as it did, I wished it hadn't.

The thing was black; solid _black_, as black as pitch, black as black as coal, black as Fraye's eyes. The darkest, deepest, blackest _black _you'd ever see in your life; from its bristling fur to its swishing tail, all the way down to its enormous teeth and wicked-sharp claws. There was a very distinct canine look about it; with a wolf's muzzle, ears, and tail… and the general shape of its body was that of a canine's… but where Jekyll (a fairly large animal) only came up to my waist, this sucker towered high above my head.

But it was strange; the thing couldn't seem to hold a proper shape. While at some times it seemed to have a thick, muscular body, other times it shifted, looking thin and lean, and even other times it seemed… skeletal. I quickly discovered the reason for this; this was a creature made out of pure shadow, constantly shifting and changing, a living shade, pieced together and created out of the darkness. Shadows would drift away from its form, then rebuild it, its fur transforming and flickering like the shadows cast by firelight.

The second the light touched it, it backed away from me, whimpering in an injured way, moving incredibly fast, ducking away from the illumination. I struggled to breathe as it lingered on the edge of the light, still whining… then slowly, _slowly, _began to growl again. I was rooted to the spot, my feet like stone; I couldn't move to save my life, and right now, that might be _exactly _what would save it. But I just couldn't _move._

The dark, demented-looking creature began to take a few steps towards me; scrambling for comfort, my brain locked on the idea that maybe it truly hated the light, maybe it wouldn't be able to touch me so long as I could keep up the glow… but that was dashed to pieces as it took another few steps towards me, each one slow and calculated. Black lips curled back from black teeth as black eyes sparkled at me, locking on, zeroing in on its target.

No clever plan went through my head. No sarcastic remark came to my lips. My life didn't flash before my eyes. The only thing that went through my head was: _ohshitohshitohshit!_ _I'm gonna DIE!_ _I'm actually gonna __**DIE!**_

The growling grew louder as the thing took another slow step towards me. Only a few moments had passed since I'd first heard the thing; and only a few seconds since I had first seen it. I was fairly certain that it would only be a few more seconds before it ended me, before the lights would go out once and for all.

Its face went level with mine, lowering down on now-broad shoulders, ducking to my eye level. Its own eyes glinted with a fierce intelligence. As it studied my all-too-fragile human form, whispers started to surround me, surround the creature: quiet, demanding words that echoed in the starlit night.

_Fraye._

_Fraye._

_Where is Fraye?_

A tremor ran down my spine and went out to the rest of me, shocking down my nerves and making me quiver like Jell-O. I swallowed thickly, painfully. The whispers grew in volume, in intensity, a thousand different voices hissing out quiet words.

_The mortal girl carries her scent._

_The mortal girl is not Fraye._

_Where is she?_

_Where is the child?_

The creature took a final step towards me; this one brought it so close that its black claws came within inches of my face, that it knocked me backwards, onto the ground. It brought its black nose within inches of my face, teeth glinting in the moonlight.

_Speak, mortal._

_Tell no lies._

_Liars are punished._

_The child, where is the child?_

_Where is Fraye?_

I tried to breathe. To suck air into my lungs. But instead I ended up gaping, like a fish. Unmoving, unblinking, staring at it uselessly. The creature looked to the side and snorted, as though frustrated, and growled louder.

_Pointless._

_The mortal knows nothing._

_Worthless to the cause._

_Destroy it. Find Fraye._

_Fraye is all that matters._

The creature looked back to me, a low snarl building as it reared its head back, ready to lunge at me… I caught sight of those black teeth and started speaking quickly. Ok. I was terrified out of my wits, petrified beyond all reasoning, and I was fairly certain that I had peed my pants in sheer terror. But I was the therapist of the Avengers; I ate weird for breakfast. Eventually, I could push down any fear, any shock, and figure things out. That was my _job. _It's what I _do._

"What do you want with Fraye?" I demanded, trying to keep my voice from shaking, trying to make myself sound clear and calm. Yeah, give that up. My voice was shakier and squeakier than a mouse on a massage chair. But it did the job; the creature halted, its head tilting to the side.

_It speaks._

_The mortal knows._

_She knows of Fraye._

I cleared my throat and tried to steady my voice a little more, to speak a little clearer. "I asked you a question."

I was stalling. Playing for time. Looking for a way out and, finding none, I started creating my own.

_Loki, _I called out in my head, making my internal voice scream out as loud as I could. _Loki, get up. I need you._

He stirred a little, but otherwise did nothing. I tried to stifle my panic. I couldn't do this without Loki, couldn't keep my emotions in check without his help. I'd been able to force the nanobots into the bubble without his help before, but this was different; this was when I was already in a state of pure fear. I needed to be angrier. Madder. More enraged.

_Tell the child's location._

_Tell and you will be spared._

_Tell and you will not be harmed._

I tried to get irritated, at least. To be annoyed. But it wasn't _working. _I'd had less problems being unafraid of Loki than I did of this _thing. _"I asked you a damn _question," _I forced the words out, pulling myself to my feet. The wolfish creature allowed the action, but not without a warning snarl.

"What do you want with Fraye?" Even with my voice louder, stronger… it still seemed so tiny and weak when facing this giant. One monster facing down another; but one of us had a very definite advantage. Hint: it wasn't _me._

_Loki! _I snapped. _Get up! _

Still nothing. His nightmares had him permanently rooted in sleep.

The creature responded at last; or whatever was talking responded. I had a feeling it was the shadows; they were flickering and dancing at the corners of my perception, moving and wavering.

_The child is ours._

_She belongs to us._

_Give her back to us!_

Ours. That was interesting. So far, pronouns had been avoided; but now I knew that this was more than one thing. Definitely the shadows then; and not the monster in front of me. Unless there was more than one of them, and right now I absolutely, thick-headedly, obtusely _refused _to even consider that. For the sake of my sanity, if nothing else.

"What do you mean, she 'belongs' to you?" I inquired, taking a step forward, looking the thing in the eye. Damn, do I have a death wish, or what?

_We stole her._

_Destroyed the parents._

_Destroyed the home._

_And now the child._

_The child is ours._

Ok. That rubbed me the wrong way. I stopped bugging Loki just for a second, a spark of irritation urging me to take another step forwards, to clench my hands in fists. "So you killed her family? Destroyed her home?" My teeth ground together. Sick bastards. "Why? What claim do you think to have on her?"

_These are not mortal concerns._

"Like hell!" I cut in before any more whispers could follow. The familiar feeling of fire running through my blood was a welcome one; it warmed me from head to toe, searing hot in moments. All I could think of was Fraye's small, innocent face, her big, wide eyes… filled with tears as blood poured down her weak little arms… so defenseless and alone against these monsters…

"Fraye is a mortal!" I shouted. "A human! That makes her our concern!"

_No. _

_The child is not of earth._

_Not human._

_Never human._

I froze. Ok, that put a little hiccup in my plan. But I was used to aliens by now (A-_hem. _One. In. My. Brain. How many times?). It didn't matter to me if she was human or not; Fraye was under the Avengers' protection. And, if I did say so myself, I was an (honorary) Avenger.

And I wasn't going to let these vile _things _touch her.

"She's still a little girl," I retorted, stubbornly jutting my chin out despite how my knees were quavering. "And she is under my protection."

_LOKI! GET THE HELL UP BEFORE I END UP STARTING AN INTERPLANETARY WAR!_

He started to pull himself from his nightmares, but it still wasn't enough. I kept screaming at him even as the creature began growling again, even as the shadows resumed their hissing, whispering questions.

_You stand as her protector?_

_Her guard?_

_Her defender?_

Could. Not. Resist! "Her Avenger," I cut in, folding my arms across my chest. I was being very careful not to drag any of the others into this. I was fairly certain of what their choices on the matter would be, but of course I couldn't be absolutely sure. And, as serious as this seemed to be getting, I definitely didn't want to pull them into it as well.

_Then you must perish._

_The child must be found._

_Fraye is ours._

The wolf dropped down, slinking around me, wiping a black tongue over black teeth. Fear spiked through me again.

_LOKI, YOU LITTLE SHIT! I'M ABOUT TO __**DIE!**__ THE LEAST YOU CAN DO IS __**WAKE UP!**_

Somewhere far away, in a dark prison cell on Asgard, the Norse god of Mischief's eyes flickered open.

I'll say this for Loki; the guy took the situation in a whole lot faster than I did. After glancing briefly through my memories of recent events, and scanning the creature before me, he summed things up quickly, succinctly, and nicely, in five little words: _You are going to die. _

_No shit! _I shouted at him, ducking out of the way as the animal lunged at me; the thing was breathtakingly fast, striking with speeds I could barely comprehend. I made it out of its grasp by the skin of my teeth. _A little __**help?**_

Years of training on Asgard-and battles on other realms- had strengthened Loki's combat reflexes, had turned him into a fighting machine. There was no pause, no hesitation; now that he knew what he was up against, he threw himself into action, not seeming to care that he had been sleeping only seconds ago. It was easy for him, to change gears so completely, to throw himself into the world of blood.

Or, in this case, to throw _me _into that world of blood.

His mind pressed against mine; then went even further. This was now a matter of mutual survival. And _that, _we could both agree on; working together, we fought for control over my emotions. As usual, it was so much easier with him helping me; so much easier for me to smother the fear, to bury it beneath wave upon trembling, fiery wave of anger… all the while keeping just enough mortal terror in the mix to cause the nanos to react…

And just like that, my indestructible side came out to play.

It emerged in its usual shape; a sphere, a bubble that extended a few feet away from me. But as the creature made another attempt towards me and I danced to the side, Loki helped me to focus my rage into a white-hot pinpoint near my heart; which, in turn, made control of the nanobots that much easier. The bubble contorted, shrinking, wrapping around me like a second skin. The one weakness, a hole in the force field that was meant to allow air and moved about when it was in its circular form, now transferred over to my mouth; still allowing me to breathe, but also letting me know _where _that weakness was, so that I could protect it.

Crying out, I threw a hand into the creature, jumped aside, then ducked back towards it, landing a series of quick, lethal jabs before dancing backwards again. My blows seemed to have little to no effect; I backed away a few more steps, trying to gain a better advantage. Or rather… Loki did.

It was strange, the way him and I fought. It wasn't as though he was in total control of my movements, wasn't as though he was taking over. He was… a part of me. His knowledge of combat combined with mine, his thoughts flowing beside mine, his battle reflexes transferring into _my _body.

The distinctions between us blurred, became nonexistent. The two of us were fighting for the same thing, like we were meant to. I moved exactly as Loki would have, were he truly in my situation; while also incorporating some of my own personal fighting styles. This wasn't a matter of Natalie and Loki; it was _us, _us without any division between us. We had now agreed to fight together, agreed to achieve this one goal, and there was no stopping us. We were far more powerful together than we would ever be separate; particularly with our emotional control.

Loki helped me keep a tight leash on my emotions, ignoring the terror, pushing aside the desire to simply curl up in a ball and whimper. Instead, we stoked the flames of my hatred, making it burn hot, making it turn my blood into fire. Molten lava seared through my veins, and the nanobots fell into line like perfect soldiers, following my orders, my commands, without any second's hesitation.

I became a machine; a perfect battle weapon, forged from the skills that Loki had acquired, forged from his wars. As the creature's claws slashed towards me, I no longer dodged to the side; as I usually would have. Instead, I went onto the offensive, shouting at the top of my lungs and flinging myself towards the creature, underneath its claws. I threw up my hands, clapping them together above my head, my fingers pointing at the sky… the force field that surrounded me responded with ease, sharpening into a wicked point above me, piercing into the creature's paw. The thing let out a harsh whine as its entire leg vanished into darkness…and then reformed with a swirl of shadow.

I would have sworn loudly, but Loki had expected this. I didn't question how he knew it would happen; right now was not the time. Now was the time to survive. And I could only do that if I _trusted_ him, trusted him _completely_. Because, when it came right down to it… my life was in his hands.

It was spooky, really.

I kept charging beneath the creature, the point of the force field above me thinning out, still sharp as ever but flattening, so that it was more like a blade… It cut at the creature's underbelly, slicing it open; shadows spilled all around me, darkness that bled out over my head and spilled down my shield-protected shoulders. The creature screamed; a keening howl that echoed throughout the entire world, a horrifically haunting sound that brought forth the worst in me; that brought forth all of the world's worst memories. That melancholy, terrible note that was indescribable… it brought forth thoughts of loneliness, yes, but more than that, it dredged up the most terrible of memories. Memories of being a child, afraid of the dark, hiding away and crying…

Being the monster that you knew, deep down, that your father scorned…

That feeling echoed through both Loki and I, but it was strangely reversed: I felt his pain, and he felt mine. Our roles snapped back together, meshed and blended… until our minds descended into that chaotic pain…

We shook ourselves out of it, and I ran underneath the creature, still slashing at it, still cutting into it, then emerging behind it; the shadows converged on me, the whispering fiends that had sentenced me to this fate. They swarmed around me, hissing out accusations.

_You will not stand against us._

_Fraye is ours._

_Her protector must die._

"Shut up!" I blurted out in a yell; the force field blew out into its normal spherical shape, then exploded outwards, holding the shadows back, holding them away from me. But they swarmed all around it, enveloping it… and slowly, they began to creep into the gap, my one weakness. A weakness I could no longer protect, as it was not directly next to me…

The shadows danced around me; I could no longer defend myself against them. They were inside the force field, inside my second skin, attacking me at my core. I fought back a girly scream and focused on getting out of this, focused on fighting, surviving. It was hopeless; the creatures swarmed about me, the shadows feather-light and cold as they brushed against me… but slowly, they began to get sharper, hotter… until the shadows were burning, blazing hot, tearing at my skin… cuts slashed about all around me; tiny nicks and scratches, but thousands upon thousands of them… I brought my force field closer to me, wrapped it around my skin, and it forced some of the shadows out… but the ones that remained inside continued their gruesome task… I stumbled forwards as pain blinded me, the death of a thousand knives… not really the best way to go…

But Loki wasn't giving up on me yet. Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes and focused solely on my predicament. I don't know what he did, but in the next second I was as determined as he was to live; to do whatever it took to survive… and to make these bastards pay. Pay for what they were doing to me, for what they tried to do to Fraye…

The mention of the little girl made our control waver for a moment; she was something we did not agree on, something we both would not fight for… but we quickly reestablished that control, worked together again… I felt my glow suddenly burn a thousand times brighter, flaring in the darkness, burning bright…

The shadows howled and retreated from the light; quickly, I brought the force field closer to my skin, leaving only the weakness by my mouth open for attack. And then I started running; I could try and fight, but we all knew that I stood no chance against these monsters…

The canine creature was upon me suddenly, its enormous claws digging into my back, which was thankfully protected by my shield… but it still threw me to the ground. The creature lunged, its teeth sliding harmlessly off of my force field, which rippled into visibility under the pressure. I rolled onto my back so that I could see the thing as it pulled back for another strike. Holding my arms out in an 'X' in front of me, I readied myself for the blow, already planning my next moves…

But the strike never came.

Something stopped the blow from coming: Jekyll. I don't know how he got into the graveyard, but I know that he did, the remains of his leash trailing behind him. He ran towards that thing like a bat outta hell; barking like a maniac, and actually frothing at the mouth as he barreled into the creature. His teeth snapped into the shadowy form, taking gouges out of the darkness before it had a chance to reform again. The shadow monster howled again, but Jekyll didn't seem to care; he clawed and bit and ripped at the creature, tearing into it…

Had it just been me, I probably would have stared at the mini-battle in rapt horror, or tried to rescue Jekyll… but, at Loki's urging, I pulled myself to my feet and started to run, run away from the monster, from the shadows.

I expected to hear something following me, and was surprised when I heard nothing but the sound of Jekyll's fierce attack. A sharp whine split through the air, and I heard something heavy strike the ground. My heart seemed to rip in half… but Loki pushed it back, forced me into numbness, forced me to keep running.

I glanced behind me, but the shadows were not pursuing. The dark canine creature shook itself off, its now-muscular body rebuilding itself from where Jekyll had torn chunks off of it… my eyes flicked to a big brown patch in the grass, my heart hammering in my ears. Relief flooded through me as the brown figure slowly got back to its feet, bleeding and wounded, but still alive.

"Move, Jekyll!" I shouted, unable to help myself. That dog had been around for a long time. He'd been with me when April died. He meant a lot to me, and I wasn't going to leave him behind if I could help it…

I didn't need to tell him twice. He raced out of there, charging towards me, running full tilt despite a bad limp. The shadow creatures watched us go, turning to us and observing silently… but they didn't make a move towards us. They simply studied us as we fled.

_Why are they giving up? _I questioned in my head.

_They are not giving up. _Loki's response was filled with a quiet, ancient dread. _They are retreating. _

_But __**why?**_

_New orders, perhaps? _I kept running as Loki frowned. Jekyll made it next to my side and ran with me, whimpering every so often but still running.

_Orders? _I asked, surprised. _No. No, those things were in command. Those shadows. They were controlling the creature. Why would they call it off? _

Loki didn't answer for a long time, but when he did, there was a terrible, cold certainty in his words. _Someone is playing a very long game with you, Miss Frost, _He told me. There was not a single quiver of doubt in his mental voice. _You are being manipulated. _

I frowned, but kept running. The creatures still did not follow, even as I made it out of the graveyard, even as I raced out into the street. I debated going back for my bike and decided against it. I might have gone faster with it, but I would lose time going back to where it was stashed. I'd have to get it tomorrow. Or have Tony do it. Yeah, I'd send Tony. No way in hell was I coming back to this place…

_You have to. April is there._

Loki rolled his eyes, but did not protest to my line of thinking. I pushed it aside. I wasn't out of the woods yet. Not even close.

Still waiting for the darkness to swallow me whole, I ran all the way back to Stark Tower.

* * *

I carefully washed the blood off of my arms, my face, and everywhere else. I'd about given Tony and Banner heart attacks when I'd burst into the room, covered in a thousand different cuts, bleeding all over the place, completely out of breath. My clothes were tattered, covered in crimson, and I was panting as I said, "Avengers. Get them. All of them. Now."

Banner had examined my cuts, then quickly ordered me to go wash them off so that he could get a closer look while Tony phoned everyone in. Well, everyone but Thor, but he'd be there tomorrow anyway. I left Jekyll in Banner's care as I headed to the bathroom to clean myself up.

The cuts were everywhere, the shadows' damage done. After I washed up and changed into a hospital gown, I looked back into the mirror, at the little injuries that pockmarked my face. After a few moments, Loki joined me, surveying the small marks through my eyes.

_Not too deep, _he noted. _Mortal science should be able to help them. They will not scar._

_Never thought they would, _I answered easily, looking down to my arms. _And what do you care if they scar or not? _

He paused. _Wounds caused by creatures such as the one you faced today tend to be far more dire, Miss Frost. And no mortal cure will help them. Should they be left untreated, the scars they create will cause a great deal of agony; pain that may never ease. _He added sarcastically, _I apologize if my concern offends you._

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Loki's concern was not for me; not directly. But my pain hurt him; and, eventually, it would hurt him far worse than it already did. I hesitated in front of the mirror. He might be a pretentious ass, but… he _did _save my life. I sighed and decided to be the better person. Not for the first time. _All right, all right, I get it. _I sighed heavily. _Listen… thanks. You really pulled through back there. _

His lip tugged downwards; I could feel it, like another extension of myself. We were no longer quite so closely connected; now that the immediate threat was over, the two of us had separated into ourselves again. But, nonetheless, we _were _still connected. Just… not so deeply.

_It was necessary. _He seemed a little miffed anyway. _But I am not a tool to be used; a way to access your powers more easily. Do not think me under your command. _

_Never, _I answered easily, still scanning my arms. It was only then that something he'd said sunk in; 'wounds caused by creatures such as these tend to be far more dire'… _You ever see anything like that… thing before?_

He followed my line of thinking and scowled, wishing he'd phrased that differently. But he answered truthfully enough. _Shadow Hounds. I've only had the misfortune of encountering them once; but I have done… extensive research on the subject. As much as is possible; they are not well known in either of our realms. Only in the mythology of… _he shut up abruptly.

_Where? _I pressed immediately, fully intent on pulling it right out of his head if he didn't tell me. These suckers were dangerous; and Loki was going to be helpful whether he liked it or not.

He sighed quietly, reading my intentions and seeming mildly… disappointed. But he answered, _Jotunheim. _

Crap. I felt a blush creep over my cheeks. Ok, now I felt like a heel. He never _could _really talk about his true birthplace without _some_ degree of hesitation. I really should have known better than that by now, I'd only been linked with him for what, a year?

But I pushed the feeling aside. There was no time for it. _Ah. _

_Many Jotun myths and legends are centered around such creatures, _Loki acted as though I had not spoken. _Though they are frequently ignored by Asgardians; and thus not well known. _Bitterness had crept into his tone. I fought a sigh. Looks like I was going back to Asgard tomorrow; for the fifth time that week.

Though I doubted the Avengers would let me. After what I'd told them about the creature- the Shadow Hound- it was unlikely that any of us would be going anywhere outside of the Tower. I wasn't exactly an Avenger myself, but I was kind of an honorary one. And right now, we needed everyone we could get.

_Good to know._ I told Loki. _Anything else?_

A long pause. Then, _I still do not trust the child._

I scowled. _Noted, _I said curtly. He backed off without further comment, and I pushed the door open, walking back to the lab.

Bruce was there with Jekyll; Tony was upstairs, guarding Fraye, the armor within ready and easy access. The Captain, Clint and Natasha had been contacted; the Captain would be here in minutes, Natasha in hours, and Clint by noon tomorrow.

I walked up to my puppy, scratching him behind the ears as I assessed the damage. There was a long cut along his side and one on his leg, but Bruce had managed to first sedate and then bandage him; and, I had no doubt, give him an X-Ray as well.

"How's he doin', Doc?" I asked, monitoring Jekyll's breathing, made steady and even by sleep. His uninjured paw twitched a little.

"I'm not a veterinarian," Banner said slowly, "But I'd say he's doing fine. You, however… well, we'll have to see."

I waited patiently for him to examine all of my little injuries; and to patch up all those that needed fixing. On a few, I needed a stitch or two; but most of them could be repaired via band-aid and a bit of time. Nothing was too bad, for which I was grateful; I'd gotten out alive and relatively uninjured.

Once finished, I changed back into my normal clothes and went upstairs to check on Fraye. She was sleeping like a baby and, with the adrenaline buzz in my veins beginning to die down, I found myself extremely jealous. I was weak, exhausted, worn out. Despite how afraid I had been… well, not even that was enough to keep my eyes open.

I retrieved my dog, who was still drowsy from the drugs he'd been given (but awake enough to follow me into the elevator), and then walked with him into my room. He was too tired to jump onto my bed without help, and when he curled up at my feet, he passed out in seconds. Moments later, I joined him, submerging myself in sleep, in dreams.

Surrendering to the dark.

* * *

_In a world where they have never met me, I have to convince them, I have to prove to them that I knew them, prove that I knew almost everything about them. I have to show them that they once trusted me. _

_I plead with them to understand; beg the Avengers to listen. They will not. They turn away, one by one, my cries falling on deaf ears. They never knew me. And soon, I will never have known them. If I can not prove that I knew them, prove that I once loved them and they me, then the memory of them will fade from my mind, vanish like smoke…_

_The heroes-__**my **__heroes- lay scattered. They have abandoned me. They do not believe me, can not believe me. How can they ever believe me…? I am the monster that they tell their children of at night… _

_And now, here I am. And there he is. _

_My last hope. _

_I stand in the darkness, with that one little patch of grey light that I know so well. The light of Loki's cell. And there the man himself stands before me, his hands clasped behind his back, his green gaze so bright and shining… suspicion leaks from those eyes, disbelief haunting them, echoing in the air around him. But he is listening. He is listening to me. And that is all that matters. _

"_You have to know, Loki," I plead with him. "There was another time, another place. I knew you. I knew everything about you." My heart wrenches, twisting about into a thousand tight knots. "You have to believe me."_

"_And why would I?" He questions, his voice quiet, soft. "I do not know you." He takes a step towards me, "So how could you __**possibly**__ know me?"_

"_I know everything about you!" I insist, becoming desperate. "I know about your brother, Thor, your father-your __**true **__father- Laufey, I know about everything! Everything you did! Please, Loki, please, just believe me!"_

_He scoffs. "Everyone knows these things. You claim to be special." He begins to circle me with slow, predatory steps. "What makes __**you **__special, little mortal?"_

"_Our connection! We were linked together! You and I! You knew everything about me, and I knew everything about you!" I have to convince him, have to make him remember before I fade away forever…_

"_I do not believe you," he whispers, so venomous, such a serpentine creature… A snake, disguised as a man… He stops circling and turns from me with slow, measured motions. He begins walking away, deeper into his cell, walking away from the light…_

_Desperation floods me. My hands clench. I know what I have to do, but can I say it? Can I say the one thing that I know will hurt him the most? The one thing that will kill him inside? _

_But he is walking away from me, and soon he will be lost, and I will be lost… I squeeze my eyes shut and shout out the greatest, most terrible secret he has, the most horrendous secret that he will __**ever **__have. _

"_I know that you're afraid of the dark!"_

_He freezes. _

_Silence rings in the room, echoing in the still air. My eyes fall down to the ground, and I whisper, "I know what the darkness did to you, Loki. I know what __**she**_ _did to you." As Loki turns to me, I roll up my sleeve, all the way up to the elbow, and display the scars on the inside my forearm. A single word is written in the pattern of scars, a small and simple thing… But for some reason, I can not read it. _

_Loki takes a step towards me, jade eyes wide and round. He takes my arm in his hands, and strokes the scars with gentle, cold fingers. _

"_I know what the darkness does." I breathe. _

I bolted awake, shocked out of my slumber by the sound of someone rapping on my door. "Natalie, you there?"

Clint. That was Clint's voice. I sat up, rubbing my eyes as Jekyll whined at the door. He was looking better today. "Yeah. Yeah, just a second," I called back, pulling myself upright and jumping out of bed. I carefully stroked Jekyll's head, glancing down at myself as I did so. Meh. The Avengers had seen me in my PJs before. Frequently.

I wrenched open the door and went out into the hallway, where Clint was waiting. He lifted an eyebrow as he saw me.

"Avengers meeting. We want you there." He turned and walked onwards, clearly intending for me to follow. I suppressed a grin, the anxieties of my dreaming diminishing in the light of day. The Avengers wanted me at a meeting. That was pretty rare, actually; considering that, not only was I not 'technically' an Avenger, but also that Loki was listening in to every single one of my thoughts. Anything said to me was a direct link to him. But Loki wasn't the current enemy anymore, and so I was needed.

Jekyll walked next to me, limping a little. I looked to the makeshift bandages that Banner had wrapped around him. That dog was a lot braver than he looked.

I hadn't yet come to terms with the fact that the stupid mutt had probably saved my life; but I was determined to let him know how thankful I was. Come lunchtime, Jekyll was getting a steak; the best that Tony had in the house, no matter how badly Stark complained about it.

I followed Clint to the elevator; he didn't say anything as he pressed the button, and it began its ascent. He stayed stoic and silent all the way to our final destination; the doors finally opened to reveal a large, mostly empty area, with an enormous holo-table in the center and the Avengers sitting around it. Thor was there, thankfully, as was Natasha, but Steve was no where to be seen.

"Ah. Natalie. Glad you could wake up," Tony gestured for me to sit; I obeyed silently, Jekyll padding after me. No one protested the animal's presence.

"Where's Steve?" I asked, ignoring the very slight jab.

"Watching Fraye," Natasha answered, nodding her head to a door on the side of the room. "We didn't want her involved in this yet."

I nodded; that made sense. We had to figure out what we knew about the kid before we brought her into this whole mess. "Right." I waited for Clint to sit, then took the last vacant seat. "Bear in mind, guys," I added, tapping my forehead a few times. "He's awake."

Eyes darkened. Fists clenched. But a general number of agreeing nods swept the room. Loki being awake meant that not only would he hear everything, but it was possible he would participate as well. Things like what happened with my parents the day before, though uncommon, were not unheard of; if Loki's opinion was strong enough, he had been known to voice it from time to time. And of course, everyone here was far too used to me suddenly falling quiet, no longer seeming to pay attention to my surroundings as Loki and I discussed things in our minds.

"Understood," Tony acknowledged.

"So what are we up against here?" Clint inquired, folding his arms and leaning back a little in his chair. "Shadows?"

"More than that," I said, suppressing a shiver. "Living shadows. Shadow Hounds. All that creepy stuff." I recounted quickly what I had seen in the graveyard, as well as everything that the shadows had said. A majority of the Avengers frowned.

"Loki says they're Jotun legends," I finished. "He's done some research, but most Asgardians wouldn't recognize them." I nodded to Thor as I said this. "But, if what they said is to be believed… then Fraye…"

"Isn't human," Clint concluded for me. I nodded.

"So what is she?" Natasha asked. "And why do they want her?"

Banner frowned. "I didn't exactly do full body scans, but she seemed human enough when I bandaged her wounds. She didn't react to disinfectant or anything."

"Maybe she copies what she sees?" I asked, biting my lip in concentration. "Becomes like that which is around her?" They looked to me, and I shrugged. "Probably not intentionally, but it _is _a possibility. I've heard about it before." I smoothly glossed over the subject without mentioning _where _I'd heard of such a thing happening before; Loki didn't always look the way he did, after all, but they didn't need to be reminded of that.

"That could be," Banner conceded, nodding slowly. "Or she could just look like us. The Asgardians do, after all."

"The Asgardians seem to have a bit of a thicker skin, though," Natasha noted carefully.

"She is not of Asgard," Thor seemed fairly confident in his assessment, and we did not question it.

"Regardless of what she is, those things are still coming after her," Tony put in. "The question is, _why?_"

I picked at my fingernails for a moment; a bad habit that I'd only really picked up since I started hanging out with the Avengers. "They said that they'd killed her parents. 'And now the child'. They kept saying she was theirs. Like she belonged to them."

_They were lying._

Loki's protests remained in my head, unvoiced, but not unheard. _I am the Master of Lies, Frost. Do you truly believe that I would not know if they were lying to me, to you? This is a manipulation. A deception._

I didn't tell the Avengers of Loki's constant protests; I knew they would not believe him. For crying out loud, _I _didn't even believe him. The man was paranoid as hell.

But he was right.

After sleeping on it, I'd realized that he was right. The way the shadows hesitated after their big attack… it really _did _look as though they were receiving new orders. The shadows were just puppets; someone else was pulling the strings. I couldn't be certain of this, of course, but it was beginning to nag at me. An instinctual feeling, but I tended to trust my gut over most everything else.

I wasn't at the point where I was going to eject Fraye from the Tower, though. Not like Loki seemed to want me to do. I still didn't know if she was lying or not, if she was anything but a scared, confused little girl. But I _was _going to keep a close eye on her.

"Why would she belong to them?" Natasha brought me back to the conversation at hand.

"If she _is _from another planet," Banner said slowly, "It could be some kind of… well, slavery. One species enslaved to another, that sort of thing."

I scowled, my fist clenching. If that _was _the case, then someone was going to get a serious lesson in the Art of Ass-Whooping, courtesy of Professor Frost. I can't stand people who like to tower above everyone else, who think themselves better than anyone else… It's part of the reason Loki and I came to blows pretty frequently.

"Could be," Tony admitted. "It fits."

I hesitated. It _did _fit; from what little we had to go on from these shadows, the idea of Fraye being some kind of slave to these creatures- possibly from birth, likely escaped- fit perfectly.

Too perfectly.

"Nat'lee?"

I jumped a little, but Loki's reaction surprised me more than anything else. On hearing Fraye's voice, sheer panic overwhelmed him; he actually lurched to his feet in his cell, ready to run… He calmed down fairly quickly after I did, however. I turned to face Fraye; ok, something was definitely up.

Steve stood behind her. I smiled at the little girl, with her overlarge, jewel black eyes that always melted my heart. "Hey, sweetie. What's wrong?"

"One of her cartoons scared her," Steve answered for her; Fraye walked up to me, and almost without thought, I found myself kneeling down on the ground next to her. "That artwork is… psychotic," he noted.

I bled a little. A lot of kid's shows scared me when I was little, too. Again without thinking about it, I gently wrapped my arms around Fraye and lifted her off the ground, getting back up into my chair and keeping her on my lap. She seemed very content there, curling up next to me, tucking her head on my shoulder. She was just so _adorable. _How could she be anything but harmless, anything but a helpless little girl…?

"It's ok, honey," I said easily, stroking her black hair. Since she'd come to us the other day, all covered in blood and dirt and grease, she'd gotten to take a shower, had her bandages changed frequently. She looked a lot better for it: her hair was no longer matted, her clothes no longer dirty. She looked almost healthy, almost like a normal, ordinary little girl, with a normal, ordinary life. "It wasn't real. Just the TV. It's ok."

She pulled away from my shoulder, sitting upright, so that she could look at me. "I know what you're saying about me," she said quietly, unable to meet my eyes. "I could hear you."

Eyebrows went up all around. My throat felt like glue. Well, we'd suspected that she wasn't human. Here was the proof.

"Don't let them take me again," she begged quietly, tears welling up in her eyes. "Please. They don't own me. They…" She choked. Loki watched her coldly; the ice that crackled around his heart threatened to spread to mine, but Fraye's eyes melted it, kept it at bay.

"We're not going to let them take you," I promised carefully, quietly. Loki disagreed, but he kept silent. "Fraye?"

She looked to me. I swallowed. "Can you tell us… what you are? What happened to you?" I lowered my voice a little. "What happened to your parents?"

She didn't speak for a long moment; we all waited with bated breath. Then, finally, in her usual small, childish voice, she answered.

"They were es-plorers. We used to go around in our ship, go see other worlds." She looked to Jekyll, who had retreated to the far end of the room the instant she entered. "Me an' mommy an' daddy… an' my puppy, an' the ship was all big an' silver an' shiny…" She sniffed quietly. "An' the ship used to talk, used to give me my lessons…"

Loki was watching indifferently, but every last one of the Avengers were wrapped up in Fraye's every word. I wasn't sure where I fit in that category. I was torn between rapt attention and cruel, dangerous suspicion.

"Then the shadows came for us… they took mommy an' daddy, an' I haven't seen them since… they… they hurt my puppy, he was covered in blood an' he wasn't breathing an'… an' they said they did the same to mommy an' daddy…" Her voice grew more childlike with each second, regressing backwards. She was tugging on every single heartstring; you'd have to be completely without heart to look at her and not feel sorry for her, not want to help her…

So what was _wrong _with me?

No. No, I _did _feel sorry for her, I wanted to help her, I wanted to make the monsters go away for good.

"An' the ship kept going, the ship said it would take me somewhere safe… it was trying to take me home, but I never knew where home was, an' then the shadows came back, an' they put me here an' I don't know why…" Tears were now spilling in steady streams down her face. "An' I don't know what I did wrong. I don't… don't know what I did wrong…" She looked back to me, black eyes wider than ever, still leaking fat tears. "They said I was a monster, Nat'lee. They said I was bad, evil…" She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "I thought that I was a good girl… why do they hate me so much?"

I went completely rigid, entirely stiff. The few Avengers who were not totally enraptured by Fraye's story were looking to me, watching me intently. I felt their stares on my back, but I ignored them. An icy chill had gripped my spine and refused to let go.

I carefully hugged Fraye closer to myself, no longer looking into her eyes; those big black eyes that made me want to protect her, want to help her, to save her from the dark… "You're not a monster, Fraye," I said carefully, consolingly, stroking her hair. "Don't worry, sweetie. We'll take care of you." I glanced to the Avengers; not one of them disagreed. "I promise."

I held her tightly for a long time; until she had cried herself out. Then I sent her over to Tony, who said he'd set up a video game for her; something nice and innocent, with no monsters. The Avengers discussed things quietly, but mostly fell into disarray, the meeting clearly over. So when I stood and exited the room, no one said anything to me; and I returned the favor.

I stayed completely silent as I headed to the elevator and pressed the button. I said not a single word as the contraption took me back to my floor. I didn't talk to Loki about what had happened as I walked down the hallway and made it into my room.

I closed the door behind me, clicked the lock into place, then walked to a chair at the other side of the room. It faced the mirror, and I studied my reflection for a long moment.

I blinked, and it changed; suddenly, Loki was looking back at me, watching me from inside of the mirror. My reflection: the Norse god of Mischief.

I sat up perfectly straight, my face blank and hollow, my spine rigid against the back of my chair. Knowing that JARVIS would hear, and quite possibly speak to Tony, I kept the conversation solely in my head, not talking aloud.

_All right, _my mental voice was a hard monotone. _She's a liar. What now?_

A quiet sigh of relief escaped Loki's lips. _What changed your mind? _His mouth did not move, and I heard his voice in my head as opposed to the illusion of him speaking out loud.

I looked away from him, glaring at the wall. _She made the same mistake you did. Tried to play on those feelings that I'd buried. She's saying all the right things, trying to make me identify with her… I'm sure she's done it to the others by now, too. We don't know who she's convinced. _I felt my features settle into stony, bleak indifference. _So we're not trusting any of them until we have this figured out. _

_Agreed, _he concurred. His lip twitched upwards. It made him happier than he probably cared to admit, seeing me not trusting the Avengers. A cruel kind of happiness, but still.

_What about you? _I asked. _How did you figure it out?_

He paused. Then, slowly, cautiously, he responded, _She… reminds me of someone that I once knew. Someone very dangerous and powerful, with connections to the shadows that go far beyond what we have seen. _His eyes- blue, as they always were in these mental projections- locked on me. _I hope, for all of our sakes, that there is no connection between the two. _

That caught my attention. Something clicked in my head, and I found myself making a sudden intellectual leap. _This other person you knew… they were in your dreams, weren't they?_

He stiffened, going tense, then scanned me intently, trying to determine where the question had come from. But, after a moment, he answered, with great caution, _Aye. _

I paused, considering that. I knew that I would not have made this connection if not for my own dream, if not for…

I swallowed. A question had been raised by that dream; a question that I suddenly had to know the answer to. _Loki… _ I hesitated, then, _Are you afraid of the dark?_

If I thought that he'd been tense before, it was nothing compared to the rigidity that followed this query. His every bone and muscle locked into place, and his gaze-which had shifted to the ground- whipped up to me, burning with bright blue flames.

_And where would you get an idea like that?_ He asked with icicle-laced words, still as aloof as ever. But his expression was slightly more guarded.

Not a direct answer. And thus not a direct lie. In response, I thought about my dream, pulling it to the front of my mind, allowing him to scan it. He did so in silence, tersely. Once finished, he looked away from me again.

_I see, _he said coldly.

_Are you?_ I pressed. His eyes flicked to me, touched mine briefly, and then turned to the side once again, staring at the wall. I looked at him in disbelief.

_You __**are.**_

He sighed through his nose.

I swallowed, immediately falling back into friendly-neighborhood-psychiatrist mode. _Hey, we all have childhood fears. I mean, come on, you've seen me with needles._

I was only trying to help, but Loki gave me one of his famous _Really-mortal _looks and I shut up abruptly. He looked away again; he couldn't seem to keep his eyes on me for too long, and only glanced in my direction when he wanted to convey exactly how much he despised this conversation, despised the fact that he was forced to speak of it with a mortal.

We fell silent for a long moment. After a while, another thought occurred to me, and my hands suddenly clenched into tight fists.

_That bastard. _

Loki, still facing the wall, now lifted his eyebrow before turning to me, curious.

_You're afraid of the dark, and your father puts you in a cell that's nothing __**but **__darkness? _I growled dangerously. _With nothing but that dinky little light to keep you sane? What the hell kind of dad does he think he is?_

Loki smiled very softly. I rarely got angry at Odin, but every so often he, just like everyone else in the universe, really kind of pissed me off. It tended to make Loki smile a little, as though someone else saw what he'd been saying all along… but then I would end up agreeing with Odin on some other matter, and that would disappear. _He does not know, _Loki informed me quietly, resting his elbow on the armrest and tucking his hand under his chin.

I frowned. How could he _not _know? He was Loki's father, wasn't he? If Loki was afraid of the dark, then he would had gone to his dad about it a few times as a kid, wouldn't he have? And if not Odin, then he'd have gone to Thor, and I knew that Thunder-Boy wouldn't let this happen if that was the case… Maybe Odin thought he grew out of it…? Yeah, that made the most sense, but why didn't Loki say anything about it? Was his pride _really _that great, that he would live in that constant fear, rather then tell his father about it…?

Yeah. Yeah, it probably was. But it still didn't make sense; Thor and Odin would still remember that frightened child, would know that he was still in there somewhere… And Thor visited Loki so often… he would have seen that old fear creeping back in, he knew his brother so well…

Loki let me puzzle it out, observing silently without commenting. Of course, Thor wouldn't have seen it if it _wasn't _an 'old' fear… Loki could have hidden it if… but no. No, that couldn't be… that didn't make sense…

_Have you figured it out yet?_ He asked, his voice laced with a mild bite of acid.

I looked up at him. The fact that he'd even asked meant that he knew I had; that I was dead on. But it just… it just didn't compute. Loki sighed very quietly.

_It is not a childhood fear, _he confirmed my suspicions.

I chewed on my lower lip thoughtfully. A fear of the dark didn't tend to form _after_ childhood; it was one of those things associated with kids, like the monster in the closet, the boogeyman under the bed. I mean, I was sure there were cases that broke this mold; particularly people who'd been through traumatic events and associated it with darkness… But this was _Loki. _He was fearless. I mean, the Asgardians were really just a bunch of glorified Vikings: They were the kind of people who laughed in the face of danger, who looked right into the eye of Death and cried, _Bring it, bitch!_

And Loki was certainly no exception. So why…?

"_Wounds caused by creatures such as the one you faced today tend to be far more dire, Miss Frost…"_

"_Shadow Hounds. I've only had the misfortune of encountering one once; but I have done… extensive research on the subject…"_

"_Someone very dangerous and powerful, with connections to the shadows that go far beyond what we have seen…"_

The thoughts hit me out of no where, things that Loki had said before, things that had slipped my mind, until now. I looked to him, and my eyes widened. My brain started whirring, putting the pieces together. Someone with connections to the shadows. Shadow Hounds. _You've seen these things before. _I mentally whispered. _The shadows, the Hounds… You've seen them before, haven't you? _I hesitated. _This… this __**person **__with those connections to the shadow… __**They **__did this. _My heart skipped a beat._** They **__made you afraid._

_Living in that cell… _My mind was still racing. _ Thinking that darkness could come to life at any second… _I felt my expression soften. _You should have told me about this. _

He gave me a look, and I fought the urge to sigh deeply. Of course he wouldn't have told me. He could discuss some things with me; his brother, his mother, even his father on good days. But these were things I already knew about, things we practically had in common. Daddy issues weren't exactly new to me.

But this… This was different. This was fear. This was _weakness. _There was something more to it, something else that he wasn't telling me, something that these shadows had done to him… but I didn't question it. It wasn't important enough right now, and from the look in his eyes, he was unwilling to talk about it, anyway. I gritted my teeth and let it slide, forcing myself to trust him. He'd tell me when it was necessary. I had to trust him enough for that, at least.

_All right, _I said slowly. _We'll talk about that later. Let's just focus on the problem at hand. _I felt my eyes harden again, felt my expression turn dark, and saw it through Loki's eyes. _What are we going to do about Fraye?_

* * *

**A/N: Finally! It is done! *faints***

**Ugh, this chapter really kicked my butt, you guys, I hope you're happy. I was feeling pretty uninspired with this latest chapter, couldn't get motivated, nuu. ;_; **

***cough* Anyway. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated! **

**Also, wanted to give a quick thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter, and to everyone who has ever favorited/followed me, cause I don't thank you guys enough, anyway. You're all amazing! **


	4. Said the Joker to the Thief

** A/N: Sorry for the short-ish chapter; it's been a busy week. :/ **

On Asgard, there is a saying: 'Any creature can know Death, or be familiar with Pain. But there is not a creature alive who knows the true meaning of Fear.'

I'd always found it a rather interesting idea, being fairly well acquainted with all three. I didn't adopt it as a personal philosophy or anything, but it was something I toyed with on occasion, or discussed with the spies (who were also _very _familiar with such subjects). From what I could gather, the basic idea was that you can accept Pain and Death, but you can only ever _try _to 'accept' and rid yourself of fear. Even if you are truly 'fearless', it isn't because you _understand _fear. You simply allow yourself to believe that it is pointless. You can _say_ that you 'faced' your fears all you wish; in truth, you are only ever _managing_ them. Fear is a living creature. It breathes, it lives. It is inside of you at all times; festering and breeding nightmares.

And, like many living creatures, its motivation can be questionable; and thus, impossible to understand.

An intriguing notion, in its own right. I thought it was interesting.

Loki thought it was utterly ridiculous.

Because Loki knew pain-better than anyone else did, better than anyone thought _he_ did- and he most certainly knew Death. But he believed that he could very safely say that he understood the truest, basest meaning of Fear.

For it was what he was feeling right now.

Loki sat in the very heart and center of his prison, his cell, his _cage. _He was seated on the floor, curled in a ball, his arms wrapped around his legs, holding them tightly against his body. His back pressed against the chair behind him, and every so often, he would jump, his gaze whipping towards the darkness that surrounded him, the lurked and lingered outside of his island of light. He imagined a thousand different sounds from inside of the darkness and pressed his palms against his ears in an effort to drown them out, his fingers entangling in his hair. He squeezed his eyes shut desperately, trying to block out the images of the nightmares that still lingered behind them, but every time he did so, they would only boil behind his eyelids. A thousand screaming, raging pictures in his mind of blood and death and the most hideous of smiles, sick laughter reverberating inside of his head as pain burned in a familiar pattern on his shoulder blades, a pattern he knew all too well…

The rest of Asgard slept peacefully. Even I was sleeping, splayed out in an odd angle on my bed, far away on Midgard, ignorant of his current predicament. The entire universe was ignorant, just as he wished for it to be, and yet, he had never wanted help so desperately in all of his life…

Curling even tighter in on himself, nightmares dancing behind his eyes every time he closed them, Loki began to tremble violently, his heart racing as he found it more and more difficult to pull air into his lungs. He shook so badly that the entire world seemed to shatter around him, no longer still but moving and alive.

_This_, he recalled, _is the true meaning of fear. _

And of course, _he _would know. Because he knew _her._

A sob forced its way out of his throat, unbidden and unwanted, the sound splintering a web of cracks in the still night. A childish notion came to him at that moment, the idea that the ghosts and ghouls and fiends of the night would know where he was because of that sound, because he had allowed that sob to

escape him, and he trembled all the harder…

"Please," He pleaded, shaking so badly that even the words trembled as they bled into the dark, silent night air. He feared the sounds they made and yet he could not keep them contained. _"Please," _he repeated. "Not her… Not here… _not now…"_

He continued begging, without knowing who he wished to answer. No one, in either his world or mine, was awake. And even if they were… who would listen? Who would _care?_

No one had ever cared before…

But still, he found himself begging. Because he was too terrified to stop.

_"Please," _Tears squeezed out of his eyes as he closed them ever tighter. "Let Fraye be anyone… _anything… _but _her."_

* * *

Over the next few days, it became immediately clear exactly how tightly Fraye had the Avengers wrapped around her tiny little finger. They went out of their way to take care of her, to help her with anything she needed… she was never wanting for anything, was always watched closely… But it went way beyond that.

It amazed me, how perfectly she managed to peg everyone, how she managed to hit them right where they lived. The 'monster' thing was thrown around me a lot, and I always gushed and cooed over her in response, though my heart would turn colder each and every time. She called Banner her 'Uncle Brucey', and paid attention to every one of his science speeches, looking as though she was trying desperately hard to understand. I was surprised with how many times she managed to say, "Don't get angry, Uncle Brucey" without him suspecting anything. I didn't know how the hell she knew about the whole 'anger issues' thing, but obviously she did.

Around Tony, well… she had this incredibly infectious little laugh, and Stark would go out of his way to hear it. He was constantly joking, making his usual material a little cleaner, more innocent, and a lot more kiddy. Whenever Fraye clapped and squealed with giggles, he would grin like a maniac, like the sun had just come up for the first time in a century of darkness.

Even the spies loved her; I'd see them playing card games with them, see her kick her feet back and forth excitedly as Clint talked about archery. She even asked them, in the way that only little kids can get away with, if the two of them were getting married; and instead of freaking out, they actually laughed.

My perception of the universe had officially been screwed with.

But I could deal with all of this. I could handle all of it. Until she found a picture of Steve and his old group of soldiers; as well as Peggy Carter. Long story short, after a heartbreaking moment of tears, he ended up back in the gym, decimating punching bags.

But when he'd been crying… he'd held Fraye so close, clung to her so tightly… and I knew that she was a liar, knew that it was all playing pretend… My hands clenched into tight fists, my blood boiling… but I kept my mouth shut.

At first.

But the second I saw my chance, I took it.

It happened when Fraye, Bruce, and I were sitting in the same room together, with Fraye studiously reading. After a while, however, she seemed to get mildly bored; her eyes started wandering, her hands tapping restless rhythms, and finally she decided that she wanted to do something else. She glanced up at where Banner was working at a computer.

"I'm gonna go downstairs now, okay Uncle Brucey?" she asked him in a bright tone.

Banner hesitated. "I'm kinda in the middle of something, Fraye," he said slowly. I was sitting at the other end of the room, my nose in a book; of which I had read the same line probably fifty times now, without taking in a single word. My ears perked as Bruce explained his dilemma to the little girl.

"It's cool, Bruce," I said, setting my still-open book down on its pages. "I'll take her." We hadn't been leaving her alone, just in case the shadows came back again. They'd made a few appearances in the past few days, but no overly coordinated attacks; just quick attempts to grab Fraye and run; of which all had been thwarted.

"Okay, Nat'lee," Fraye said with a big, happy grin. Bruce nodded in agreement distractedly as she jumped off of her seat and skipped up to me, reaching up to link her hand in mine. I took her tiny hand and walked to the elevator with her while she gushed about the drawing supplies that Tony had gotten for her, supplies that she was going to use now, because she was just _so _excited about them. I listened to her, nodding encouragingly, until we were safely in the elevator.

I didn't speak to her until we got out of the elevator, into the hallway of the unoccupied floor that was our destination. Then I whirled on her, eyes crackling.

"Stop it," I ordered. "Just stop it _now. _I know your game, Fraye. I know what you're doing."

She looked up at me with those wide, innocent eyes. "Wh-What?"

"Don't _give _me that!" I snarled. "You've been using us all along. Using the Avengers. Using _me. _You've been lying to us, manipulating us!"

Tears began to swim in those eyes, so black and shining, so big, so desperate for mercy… no one with a heart could look at those eyes without melting…

But right now, I was heartless. And I didn't _care_.

"Wh…Why would you say that, Nat'lee?" She asked in a weak voice. "I thought… I thought you said I was a good girl…"

"Stop." I said, my tone dark and dead. "Just stop right now. You're lying to me, and it's not going to work." I was suddenly wiped clean of any uncertainty, any hesitation. There was no doubt in my mind that Fraye was not what she appeared to be; I no longer sympathized with her as I once did, no longer viewed her as an innocent little girl… I knew she was a liar. I knew she'd been using us. And nothing would convince me otherwise.

Fraye seemed to see this; after a very, very long moment where she stared into my eyes, tears swimming and flowing down her cheeks… she suddenly blinked, then threw her head back and laughed.

It was a strange laugh; a laugh that seemed far too old for one so young. "Oh, fair enough," She said flippantly, waving an airy hand. "I always knew you'd be a tough sell. So paranoid." She shook her head out, then wiped away the false tears.

I was not as surprised by her sudden transformation as you might think. I had already been so certain of myself, I had already known for sure that she truly was a liar. Her drop of the act simply confirmed it. I folded my arms over my chest, just grateful to have her telling the truth at last.

"It's incredible to me." She went on. "Most humans are a lot more trusting; but _you… _I don't know what it is."

My eyes narrowed. "I guess I've been burned too many times," I said sarcastically.

She laughed, but shook her head, her black hair whipping back and forth. "No, that's not it. You're just _wired_ differently_, _Natalie." So the cute little nickname was an act, too. The girl was good at what she did. "Anyone else would've seen a poor, defenseless child and rushed in to save the day; but not you. You wanted to, you _tried _to, but your true nature won out. Inevitable, I suppose." She shrugged. "It took you long enough, though. I mean, you've known about this for days, and you're only _now _confronting me?" She sighed theatrically, flipping her hair back. She placed her hands on her hips, her gaze shifting a little, staring deeper into my eyes. Her tone changed; almost as though she was speaking to someone else. But I was the only person here. "I really expected better from you."

"Yeah, well, I expected a lot better from you, too," I snapped. But she just grinned.

"Oh. I wasn't talking to _you, _mortal," she said, her tone shifting and her gaze refocusing for a second, before it zeroed in on my eyes again. I lifted my eyebrows; she was going straight for the 'mortal' title. Just once, I wished that we'd have an enemy who _wasn't _immortal, who _didn't _hold that over everyone else's head…

Her eyes alight, sparkling with childish joy, she giggled and said happily, "I was talking to my favorite little plaything."

The effect on Loki was immediate and drastic. Every one of his muscles suddenly locked into place, completely frozen, petrified. His heartbeat suddenly raced at a thousand miles per hour, and denial screamed in his head, echoing and screaming and reverberating in mine. _No. For the love of the realm, not her… not again…_

His knees shook, close to buckling. His hands began to tremble so violently that the action was transferred over to me; my fingers began shaking. He couldn't breathe; no matter how hard he tried, he could _not breathe…_

Never. Not once in my entire life. Had I _ever _seen Loki this afraid. Oh, I'd seen him mildly frightened, seen him burst out of his nightmares, but _this… _this was something else. Something… other.

"You're losing your touch," she said slowly, shifting around on her feet. Her eyes flicked back to mine and she smiled wickedly, teeth gleaming in the artificial lamplight. "Lo-ki." She broke apart each syllable of his name, pronouncing them with special emphasis. Even I froze up; we had told her limited things about our powers, but no one had said a word to her about Loki being in my head…

But the instant that Fraye said Loki's name, it was over. His terror burst into me, flowed over me, broke past our mental barriers and flooded me; pure, mortal terror so absolute, so _animal, _that I could do nothing but react, could do nothing but turn to my instincts. I was suddenly running, running away, running as fast as I could… tearing towards the stairs, racing down them, throwing myself towards the bottom floor of Stark Tower.

I was reduced to nothing but my fear; _Loki's _fear. It sent me flying, and I could no longer breathe, could no longer think or feel or _anything… _all I could do was run, and _keep _running, all I could do was get away as fast as my legs could carry me, ignoring all pain, ignoring the fact that my lungs were about to burst. It didn't matter. None of it _mattered. _

As I tore out of the Tower and into the streets, my heart pounded in my ears. Pure adrenaline kept me moving, my every footstep fueled with the desperate desire to get away, to _stay away _from her, from that monster, that foul, loathsome creature… that thing which would murder me in moments, that nightmare that was Fraye…

And all the while, as I ran, Loki remained curled up in the light, motionless, unmoving… running through me, using me to run when he could not, for fear that the darkness would swallow him whole…

I don't know how I did it, but I did not stop running until I reached my house; until I had locked the door behind me and armed myself with the gun that Clint had gotten me for my twentieth birthday. And then I was shaking; quivering in the farthest corner of the house, trembling from head to toe. I doubted I could use the gun if I wanted to, my hands were shaking so badly, but I clutched it tightly to my chest nonetheless, as though it was my lifeline. I was probably too weak to pull the trigger; I was barely strong enough to sit upright. I felt… _frail._ Like my muscles had been reduced to rubber, my bones to glass…

I stayed like that for a very long time; I'm not sure exactly _how _long. It could have been hours. It felt like days. But slowly, surely, I managed to pull myself together, to separate my feelings from Loki's, to battle back the fear that threatened to override me again. The shaking slowed. Strength returned to my limbs. I could move again, think again, _breathe _again.

A slow, creeping irritation set in; I stood, concentrating, then took a single step forwards; the movement sent me rocketing in that same direction and into another world… a projection of myself appeared in Asgard, visible only to Loki, and making him and his cell now visible to me. I hadn't done this many times, usually relying on him to project himself in _my _head, or simply traveling to Asgard when I wanted to see him. But I'd done it a few times since I'd first discovered I was capable of it, all that time ago…

I was fully intent on yelling, _what the hell was __**that?**_In his face, fully intent on being angry at him for making me run like that, making me into such a coward… but the instant I caught sight of him, the words died in my throat.

He was curled up in a ball on the ground, his eyes staring out blankly at absolutely nothing. His wiry arms were wrapped around his knees, and he was trembling. A thin sheen of sweat made his paper-white skin glisten in the grey light. His eyes looked hollow, ringed with dark circles.

But perhaps the worst out of all of that… were the tears on his face.

I'd known Loki for more than a year now. I knew most everything that went on in his head. I knew most every one of his darker emotions, knew all of his black imaginings, knew most every one of his fears, his hidden pains… but even then, I'd only ever seen him close to tears once. A single tear, nothing more, had escaped him when I'd told him that I was going to remain in his head, that I was going to keep us linked forever. When I had made him a prisoner in his own mind; at least, that was how he had viewed it. He had turned away from me, had refused to look at me as this moment of weakness bled through, as this single tear had slipped through the cracks of his invincible façade…

But now… now the tears were unrelenting. Unstopping. He was showing the very heart and core of his weakness, not bothering to hide it, not bothering to secret it away in the shadows, to mask his fear. Which meant only one thing; it no longer mattered. And anything that could make Loki forget himself, forget his own arrogant invulnerability… that was _truly_ something to be feared.

All of my anger drained out of me, diminished in a heartbeat. I crouched down next to him, wishing desperately to wrap my arms around him, but I knew that they would simply pass right through. "Loki?" I asked in a soft, gentle, quiet voice. "Loki, what is it? Who is she? What's wrong?"

He did not respond; merely flinched away from my questions, curling in closer on himself. I kept asking questions for a moment, but when it became clear that he wasn't capable of answering, even if he wanted to, I simply sat down next to him, waiting patiently in the silence.

And the tears kept pouring down.

* * *

It took a long time for Loki to pull himself together again; a lot longer than it had taken me, but then, it was _his _fear to begin with. I remained entirely silent the entire time, sitting next to him, cross-legged on the ground. Our roles seemed to have reversed completely. Usually, _I _was the crazy, hectic emotional one; and he counterbalanced me by being coldly neutral towards everything.

But it was simply Loki's nature to be that way; to view himself so high above everything else that none of these problems mattered to him. I, on the other hand, kept my emotions cool and collected, and my heartbeat steady, for an entirely different purpose; to keep _him _sane.

_He _usually hid his emotions to protect himself, to cover all fear and pain and thus any weakness… whereas, right now, _I_ was focused mostly on keeping him calm, acting like a beacon of what he was supposed to be, the perfect model of the cold neutrality he typically embodied.

And it worked; it _did _help him. He was not the only one who could help me control my emotions; I helped _him_ keep _his_ in check as well. Once he managed to push aside the fear enough to think to do so, he focused on my heartbeat, matching his with it. The two synced up like they normally did, and I sat upright, perfectly straight, still cross-legged on the floor, just like he always did. Slowly, his posture shifted to match it.

It took a very long time for his thoughts to sort back into their usual rhythm, and when they did he did not thank me for my help. That was all right; I hadn't expected him to. But finally, he managed to breathe again, to quell the tears and return his features to their usual smooth, uncaring state.

Still we stayed in silence for a very long time. I didn't push him; I didn't want to end up saying the wrong word, didn't want him to start talking before he could and end up breaking down again.

So for a while, we just sat there. I quelled any impatience I had, turning my focus to other things, letting my brain tune out, think about whatever random thing it wanted. The TV show I saw last night, a scene from Harry Potter, Jekyll's face when I'd given him that steak… these thoughts jumbled about, a collection of white noise, making my brain nothing but background sound, so that Loki could concentrate without being disturbed.

When he finally did speak up, his voice was very quiet. It was relatively toneless, resorting to an old technique that I had used frequently in my lifetime; flicking a switch and turning off his emotions. Listing facts and figures as though they were nothing more than that; as though he was telling the life story of someone else entirely. "I never knew her name before."

I looked to him, but he kept staring forwards blankly. I studied his profile as he continued talking. "I'd known about her for years before I…" He choked. A new fear spiked through him; Heimdal. The Gatekeeper could be watching; he frequently kept an eye on Loki. I understood immediately.

_It's ok, _I told him gently. _You don't have to say it out loud._

He still did not face me; and for another long moment, he said absolutely nothing. I wondered why he was even bothering to tell me at all; why he wasn't trying to hide it from me again. He must have known that I wouldn't try and rip it out of his head, no matter the consequences, not after what I'd seen, not after I'd seen the unbreakable hold that this fear had over him… But he also knew that there were no secrets between us. This was something I would have found out sooner or later; perhaps it was best that I found out now.

Finally, swallowing, he closed his eyes and spoke again. _Shadow Hounds… Shadow Manipulation, Shadow Taming… Creatures capable of such things, monsters made of shadow… they are a common theme in Jotun legends. But there is one who stands above them all, considered to be the Shadow's Master… and also their Nightmare. _

He paused. I said nothing, letting him take his time. _She is… Death. Shadow and Death and Fear, Fear itself… _A shudder ran down his spine and he looked down to the ground, to the side, away from me. I tried to reach my hand out to touch him… but of course I could not. I pulled my hand back.

_The Frost Giants were taught to fear her above everything else; and they did. So much so that they never spoke her name aloud._

I lifted an eyebrow. Ok, that _was _impressive. If the Asgardians were a bunch of Vikings, then the Frost Giants were like Spartans; right down to abandoning the weakest of their young, leaving them to die in the cold. When it came right down to it, they were completely fearless; they lived for the battle.

_They called her the 'Shadow Child,' the 'Planet-Killer'… And that is exactly what she is. _He looked to me at last, his eyes deadly serious. _She is a destroyer of worlds, Frost. Whatever we thought she was here for… we were wrong. This is not about the Avengers. This is about the Earth. _

I felt a shiver run through me, but I forced it aside. I'd figure all that out later, get back to the whole Planet-Killer thing. I had to sort out one thing at a time, or else my head would explode. Loki recognized this and returned to the main subject; how he even knew Fraye in the first place, why he'd reacted in the way he had.

He paused, then, _I had long researched the legends. The thought of something so powerful… intrigued me. But what I could learn on Asgard was limited; so when I was… 'exiled' from my home, when I fell from the Bifrost, when I was searching for my army… I searched for her as well. _

I swallowed. _Let me guess. You found her. _

He chuckled without humor, a dry laugh completely without mirth. He did not answer me; not for a while, and not out loud. Then, slowly, he held out his arm. With great care, he rolled his sleeve up to his elbow, displaying the skin on the inside of his forearm; pale and unblemished.

Then, carefully, he ran the fingers of his other hand over it; I recognized not only the gesture, but the… _feeling _behind it. Like a slight buzz in his fingers, the flexing of certain muscles… I could tell it was magic; more specifically, I could tell what kind of magic it was. It was the same gesture, the same feeling, the same general motions he went through whenever he was removing an illusion that he'd created. It wasn't always exactly the same, depending on the magic, or in this case, on the illusion itself. But I still recognized it; I'd learned a lot about the Asgardian version of science since Loki had gotten into my head.

I frowned, confused. What kind of illusion would he need to remove from his arm…?

And then I gasped.

The scars that cut across the inside of his forearm varied greatly; from small white marks to thick, blood-red lines; some looked downright poisonous, with blackened edges. On a majority of them, I couldn't tell what had caused them; they seemed to be some horrible blend between cuts and burns, deep and ugly and painful…

But what struck me the most was the _intent _behind each and every one of those scars. It was so completely plain, so obvious, that these were not random happenstance. They were not battle wounds, or accidental injuries. They were too perfect for that. Some of them were perfectly straight, a few lined up in a row… while still others looked like insane patterns, drawn into his skin; curls and sweeps of movement that seemed almost alive…

_Did I not tell you that untreated shadow wounds would create scars? _Loki asked, his words bitter, black and painful despite the twisted smile on his face. _And that the pain may never cease?_

I continued to stare at the deformities on his skin. Tears prickled at my eyes. _Why didn't you- _I stopped myself before I could even ask. I knew why he hadn't told anyone. Because this went beyond weakness. Beyond simple fear. This was, beyond any doubt, his greatest nightmare; the thing which came for him in his sleep, the thing which lurked in the dark.

My hands clenched, and I began to shake again. But not out of fear this time. _Fraye did this to you? _I growled, looking at the sweep of patterns that crossed over his skin; the product of a twisted- or perhaps entirely lost- mind.

He smiled at me very softly, still without humor, still so… painful. _She did far worse. These scars are not unique._ Slowly, he pulled up his other shirt sleeve; waving his hand over it again, releasing another illusion… he'd kept these hidden beneath lie upon lie, keeping the illusion on his even while the scars were covered by his sleeve… More of them littered this arm, horrible and painful… _They are everywhere, Miss Frost. _

I tasted metal as my vision turned red. _That little bitch is gonna die. _

He rolled his eyes. _There is nothing you can do against her. She is not the child she appeared to you as; that is why I did not recognize her… why I __**refused **__to recognize her. _The corners of his lips turned downward as he debated something in his mind for a long moment. Then, slowly, he closed his eyes and concentrated.

A memory began to tug at me, and a picture flashed at the back of my eyes, an image searing itself in my brain. It was accompanied by a flash of fear and pain so great that I found myself gasping. For a brief moment, I could actually _feel_ something binding my wrists, something unbreakable and cold wrapped around them, tying them to something beneath me… a black metal chair… there was darkness all around me…

But the main part of the image, the memory- Loki's memory, I was sure of it- was a woman who stood among all of that darkness.

She was as pale as a sheet, with deep black circles underneath far blacker eyes. Shadows swirled about in her coal-black hair, and more of the living shades danced about around her. She was fairly short in stature, and bone-thin; she looked, in all honesty… like Death.

There was an insane light in those black eyes… a mad, hysterical smile decorated her face… there was no sanity in her features, no sense in those glittering, jewel-black eyes… a smear of blood was had been wiped across her cheek, and there was blood on her small, pale hands. From the pain that shocked through my entire system, that cut through me from head to toe, I knew for a fact that this blood was Loki's.

Just as suddenly as it had come, the memory dissipated; but not before burning that face permanently into my mind, branding it on my thoughts. I blinked a few times, trying to clear it from my vision.

"That… that was her?" I asked, my voice coming out in a little squeak. I sounded like freaking Minnie Mouse. Suddenly realizing that I was speaking out loud, I switched to my mental voice. _**That **__was Fraye?_

Loki nodded; I tried to reconcile that image with the little girl that I knew, the young child that I had once tried to protect… only the eyes matched. As I thought back to the little girl, I saw it in my mind, saw what I'd tried so desperately to block out… the insanity had always been there, lurking in her gaze… I simply hadn't noticed before, had _refused _to notice before.

_She had me for months, _Loki said; and his mental voice was quieter than ever; so much so that I had to strain to hear it. _She was such a small, pathetic-looking creature… I thought that the Frost Giants must have been wrong, but she soon proved otherwise… she was determined to teach me the meaning of fear, the meaning of darkness… _His eyes started to sting again. He tilted his head upwards, looking at the ceiling, trying to clear away the threatening tears. _She called me her…_ He stopped.

_Her favorite little plaything,_ I guessed. He blinked and didn't answer; I took it as an affirmative. _You don't have to talk about it. _

He fell silent for a moment, then accepted this, skipping past the months that she'd held him captive, saying not a word… one day, _one day, _I would know of everything that she had put him through. But right now, that did not matter. _I managed to escape; but only because she allowed it. She sent me off with a laugh, said that it was just so much fun keeping me alive, that she would be watching… _he swallowed. His green eyes turned to me. _That she would __**always **__be watching, _he emphasized.

I swallowed. It took me a second to piece together the importance of that, to figure out why that would mean anything… but then the jigsaw assembled itself, and I understood.

I understood _everything._

She'd let him escape. She'd let him run. She'd been keeping her eye on him… she'd been watching when he returned to Earth…

In short… Loki had led her straight here.

He glanced to me; that dry, humorless smile was back again. _I suppose the Avengers will not be surprised that their world is threatened once again because of my actions. _

_Are you __**insane?**_ The words blurted out of me before I could stop them. _The Avengers ain't hearing __**squat **__about this! _

He blinked at me, his head tilting very slightly to the side. Trying to figure me out. I folded my arms.

_Well they __**aren't. **_I growled, feeling a sudden need to justify myself. _They don't need any more reason to hate you than they already have. They're not going to see what I see; they'll just see another one of your attempts to take over earth; or maybe some kind of temper-tantrum 'if-I-can't-have-the-planet-neither-can-you' kinda things. Especially if we don't tell them about what she did to you- and we're __**not. Going. To. **_

His eyebrow lifted, and despite everything, the smile stretched a little.

_No._ I went on, shaking my head once. _No, if we're going to deal with Fraye, we're going to do it by ourselves. _I hesitated. _At least until she shows her true colors… _A plan started forming. If there's one good thing about having the Norse god of Mischief in your brain, it's that plotting things starts to become a _lot _easier. I kept him shut out, kept him from hearing the vague sense of a plan that I had, for fear that it would be revealed as ridiculous, a childish notion… he noticed, but didn't comment.

_I need you to tell me everything you learned about her, _I said, my mind whirring._ Everything you can. _

I felt the faintest hint of feeling in his chest; a hint of something that was not fear. It was almost… _pride. _The smile, though still cold as ice, grew slightly warmer. My caviler assumption that he would have learned something about her, despite being helpless, despite being bound and –I fought with the word- _tortured, _that he would still be observing as closely as ever… I hadn't realized what that assumption would mean to him. In fairness, he hadn't realized it, either.

_Fraye is a force of nature, _he said after a moment, immediately turning into the strategist that he was at heart. I have to admit, it made me smile, seeing him that way again. I mean, seeing him cry… seeing him broken… an image like that had no place in the universe. _Deadly and powerful; she goes from planet to planet, world to world, and slaughters all in her path. She follows no pattern, adheres to no code… but if she has chosen the Avengers as her first targets, then it is likely that she has decided to… break them. Chosen them as her preferred targets; she wishes to destroy the protectors before destroying the planet. _

'_Her protector must die,' _I quoted musingly, remembering what the shadows had said, back before I'd discovered Fraye's true nature, back when I'd stood as her protector, her Avenger… the thought now twisted me up, a monster tearing and clawing at my insides, howling with rage.

_Precisely, _Loki said with a single nod, acknowledging my observation. Slowly, I brought my hand to my face, curling it into a fist and chewing on my thumbnail. My mind was racing; my plan was coming together, piece by piece.

_So, eventually, she's going to show them her true colors. _I guessed.

_Yes, _he affirmed. _Right now, she is merely… __**integrating **__herself within them. She takes no pleasure in merely breaking a person's body; but their __**spirit… **__that is something else entirely. She wants the Avengers to trust her. She wants them to feel betrayed. She wants them to feel pain. _

I winced, though I tucked that information in the back of my head to look at with my shrink-goggles later. I didn't like the idea of the Avengers being in pain… but if I told them about her true nature now, it would make no difference. It would still be a betrayal; and the others hadn't been as distrusting as I had. They had given their hearts to her… _completely. _

_Wait, _I said, holding up two fingers as something else caught my attention. _You said that she's integrating herself… you don't think that she'd doing reconnaissance? Scouting out the competition? Figuring out strengths and weaknesses, that sort of thing?_

His eyebrows shot up. _No, _he answered. _Fraye is telepathic. She already knows everything about you. _My eyes widened a little, and he sighed exasperatedly. _Honestly, Frost. Was this not obvious? _

My eyes narrowed a little. _Ok, ok, the mortal is a little slow on the uptake. So shoot me. _

The sly humor glinted out of his eyes once more. Despite how condescending and irritating he was being, it was good to have him back to normal. _I assumed you knew; you yourself made note of how she seemed to know 'all of the right things to say'; how she seemed to know everyone's secret weaknesses without ever being told… And then she spoke to me directly, addressed __**me **__while facing __**you**__… _

I paused. Ok, in retrospect, that _was _obnoxiously obvious. And now I felt incredibly stupid. Little Bobo the trained monkey, thinking he were super smart because he was just house-trained and learned how to dance on command… I gnashed my teeth.

_Maybe I was just in denial of the fact that there is __**yet another **__whack job psychopath out there who knows my every private thought, you ever think about that? _I grumbled.

Instead of being insulted by the whack-job-psychopath comment, Loki chuckled quietly. He glanced down to the scars on his pale arms and slowly ran his hands over them again; the illusion went back into place, and he rolled down his sleeves, fastening them again. _So do you intend on telling me this plan of yours, Frost, or are you going to keep me in the dark? _

I flushed. _It's not really a 'plan', per se… _I didn't even bother with denial. I picked at my nails and added, _More like… an idea. _

_I'm listening._

I paused, then said slowly,_ It's just… _I sighed. _I know you. I know how you think. You called Fraye a Planet-Killer… and if she knows your thoughts, then her next target after Earth is going to be Asgard. And if that happens… You're going to be locked away in a cage, locked away in your prison, your box… She could destroy the whole world around you and you'd be powerless to stop it, powerless to stop her when she came for you. _

His eyes had turned a little harder, becoming stone. He said nothing, but the dangerous emotion brewing inside of him acknowledged the truth in my words.

_And you're not going to stand for that. You've been rendered helpless by her once before; you're not going to let it happen again. If she is here, and if you __**are **__going to die, then you're going to die on your feet and fighting, with her blood on your hands._

He studied me. I swallowed and went on, _So, basically… we just have to bust you out of jail._

His eyebrows furrowed, taken very slightly aback. _And how, exactly, do you propose we do that? _He asked, not without a trace of a sneer. I couldn't fight the smile that crept over my face; a smile that showed just a little bit _too _much of the monster within.

_Easy. _I replied, oddly direct for the situation at hand. _We get your father- and the Avengers- to __**let**__ you out._

Loki gave me a look that either said: '_you are a stark raving genius' _or '_honestly, Frost, I'm not sure why I haven't put you out of your misery yet'. _I was pretty sure it wasn't the first one.

_Think about it, _I said, trying to get my words out before I lost my courage, before I scrapped the plan entirely. _If Fraye is as deadly as you say she is- and I'm not doubting you on that, _I added quickly, when he looked ready to open his mouth and defend his claim, _then when she shows her true colors, she's gonna leave a mark._

He fell silent for a moment as I said,_ My guess is that she'll __**attack**__ the Avengers, but she won't __**kill**__ them. Not the first time, anyway, not if she wants to 'break' them. But if she leaves enough of a mark, if she scares them enough… we could use that to our advantage. _

His eyebrow went up. He was beginning to see where this was going.

_Imagine that, _I said, warming up to my idea against my will. _This innocent little girl, who they've been trying to protect, suddenly unleashes a bunch of crazy shadows. She beats the Avengers at their own game, a super-power battle that utterly wipes them out, but- __**but!- **__she leaves them alive. Reeling. Unsure of when she's going to strike next, unsure of how they're going to save the world-and __**themselves-**__ from a threat like… _I swallowed, remembering the image of Fraye that Loki had shown me from his memory, all grown up with her hands dripping with his blood… _like __**that. **__And then they learn that __**you **__have information about her, about this new threat, this threat that is far greater than even you…_

During this explanation, Loki's eyes had gone round. His mind had begun to buzz, catching on very quickly. _The enemy of my enemy, _his thoughts whispered in awe. He looked to me, a very faint hint of grudging respect in his expression. _Do you truly think that it will work?_

_If we sell it right, _I responded, feeling pride explode in my chest. My first-ever scheme had been approved by the schemer himself. A part of me knew very well that I shouldn't be so bloody happy about that, but the rest of me didn't care. _We can make the Avengers think that I'm just as upset about it as they are. _I chewed my lip, now warming up to my own plan a little more willingly. _It shouldn't be too hard; and we can stage a fight between us, just in case Heimdal is watching. _I was already planning out the act in my head; an argument between myself and Loki as to why we would ever let him out of this prison, when in truth I would be secretly aiming for just that goal.

I went on, _You can say that you'll only help them if they let you fight her, say that you have your reasons…_

At this, Loki frowned. _Would they not expect you to simply take any information that I might have directly from my mind? _

_If they do, I'll refuse. _I answered carelessly. _Give them some BS about how if I do, you'll fight it too much, your mind will snap under the pressure, yadda yadda yadda. _

_And if they ignore this? If they order you to do so anyway?_

Now it was my turn to give _him _a look. _Have you __**ever **__known __**me **__to follow orders a day in my __**life?**_

He chuckled softly. _A fair point, _he admitted. He fell silent for a long moment, considering. Then, _Fraye will see this coming. She will know; she will take it from our minds. _

I'd thought of that, too. _If she does, she'll go along with it. She wants to remove Earth's protectors, take out their strongest warriors… _I toyed with the flat silver bracelet that was clamped on my wrist. _That includes me. If she killed me before she got her hands on you… _

We both fell silent. The idea that one of us might die before the other was… unimaginable. Painful to even think about. I did not need to clarify that if it happened, Loki would be reduced to a shell of his former self long before Fraye got her hands on him, would possibly be begging for death by the time she got there. A part of his mind would have been ripped from him, torn away… though we may not be at that point yet, it would certainly be painful; to the point where it would be crippling.

_There'd be no fun in it, _I concluded at last, shrugging off the disturbing mental picture. _Besides. What's one more hero, but a better challenge? She's all about that, isn't she? Challenges? Fun? _I started tracing patterns on the insides of my forearms; the same sweeps and curls that had been scarred into Loki's skin. _She called you her 'plaything' after all. _My psychiatrist mind started spinning again. Loki wasn't the only psychopath that had sparked my interest in the past few years.

He scowled at me. _Oh, no._ _I know that look. _

_What? _I asked innocently.

_It's madness, Frost. _He grit his teeth. _Fraye is not something that can be reasoned with. There is nothing in her mind but blood and insanity; do not think that you can explore her mind in the way you do to mine, to the Avengers'. _

_There has to be a reason why she is the way she is, _I protested, no longer feigning naïveté. _There was a reason for __**you, **__after all. _

_I am different._

_**How?**_

He looked away, his hands tightening in fists. _If you try to investigate Fraye's mind, if you try to explore her past… if you say one wrong word, she will obliterate you. She will destroy you, break you down, __**torture **__you._

My eyebrows disappeared beneath my bangs as I folded my arms over my chest. _And that makes her different from you, __**how?**__ Face it, Loki, in the old days, I always thought- always __**knew- **__that you were going to kill me. When you got pissed off, you'd give me nightmares that tortured my brain. You'd kill all of my friends and family in front of me just to screw with me. I knew the consequences then, and I know them __**now**__. _

His scowl deepened. _I have limits. Fraye does not. _

_**What **__limits? _I demanded. _You crossed lines left right and center! Hell, you did it just the other day, with my parents!_ I glared, then turned my gaze to the ground, glowering at the floor. _Don't you get that it's the right thing to do? That maybe there's a reason to her? That, maybe, you're not the only one who deserves a second chance? _

He whirled on me suddenly, turning to face me; had I been there, I had the feeling that he would have gripped my shoulders tightly enough to bruise. His face had turned a little whiter; something that I had not noticed until now. _But when you tried to give me that second chance, when you pulled up my past, when you said the things that you did, __**you **__were the only one at risk. That is no longer the case. _Fire was burning in his currently-blue eyes by now. _If she tortured you, __**I **__would share that pain. If you die, then it is possible that__** I**__ will share that same fate. Do not destroy __**me**__ in __**your**__ misguided attempts to be __**righteous**__!_

My ears started ringing. Ok. Now I was pissed. The monster within stroked at the flames of my hatred, slowly enveloping me, taking me over… it spoke through me, said things that I never would have… _Oh, really? _I sneered. _**I **__was the only one at risk when I did that? __**I **__was the only one who could have been harmed by my actions? __**Really? **__Ok. Ok, __**fine!**__ If __**that's **__the case, then __**tell**__ me, _my hands were shaking by this point, the words coming out of me with reckless abandon. _What the hell was __**April?**_

This question split the air around us, broke it down, shattered it into silence. Loki did not react in the slightest; did not wince or flinch or even blink. But his thoughts recoiled away from mine, his mind encasing itself in ice, his heart freezing over… I hadn't realized until that point how close we were, how tightly intertwined our thoughts had become, in that moment when we were agreeing with each other, planning with each other, working _with _each other. But now that he was pulling away again, it became starkly, painfully clear. I turned away, my resentment still a bitter taste on my tongue, but regret was already making my throat thick, my stomach hollow.

After a long moment of cold, black silence, I sighed and buried my face in my hands. _Okay. _I let out a long, drawn-out groan. _Okay, okay, that was stupid thing to say. _

_I have no arguments for that, _he answered, but it was teasing, lighter than I'd expected. I gave him a sideways glare. He gave me one of his unfathomable, _maybe-I'm-laughing-maybe-I'm-just-plotting-against -you _looks. I sighed and lifted my face to the ceiling, rolling my head back on my shoulders and closing my eyes.

_I'm sorry, _I said, though we both knew that I was half lying. I knew I was right. I was sorry that I had said it _now, _that I had let my anger get the best of me… but I wasn't taking it back. It was the truth.

_I know, I know, _I went on,_ We don't talk about April. Like Fight Club. _I let out a sigh through my nose. _It's just… _

My eyes opened, and I looked at the ceiling, seeing both of the worlds I now inhabited in my vision; the real world, Earth, where I was sitting at home, looking at my normal ceiling… and the world in my head, the world that Loki inhabited, Asgard, looking at the darkness above him, the darkness which hid a ceiling that may or may not have existed.

_It had to be her, didn't it? _

I think the bitterness in those words surprised us both. Loki looked to me, calculating once again. After a brief second of thought, he asked a question of his own. _Who would you have preferred? Your mother? Your father? Perhaps someone that you had never met, an innocent person from the streets? _

I swallowed. My throat felt thicker than ever, my eyes burning. I didn't look at him, but still stared at the twin ceilings of my twin worlds.

_Why couldn't it have been me?_

He didn't answer me for so long that I finally turned to face him again; I found myself looking at his profile once more as he stared at the darkness of his cell. Not facing me.

_Because you would never have fought for yourself, _he finally responded. _If I had threatened your life, if I had ordered you to destroy the Avengers or be destroyed in turn… You would not have done it. You would have mocked me, scorned the very idea. _He looked to me finally, his pale, topaz blue eyes deep and unfathomable. _It was supposed to be you. That was the original plan; to threaten your life, so that you would destroy the Avengers. _He was watching me. Gauging my reactions. With every word, he scanned my face, waiting to see what I would do next. _But the instant I created our mental connection, the moment I linked us together… the circumstances required that I become more… creative. _

_I then planned to simply threaten someone you loved. But I soon realized that was also doomed for failure; you would fight tooth and nail to protect someone else, it is true… but the dilemma would tear you apart. In the end, I doubted that you would have ever killed the Avengers, even to save someone you loved. _

I said absolutely nothing. I was listening closely, taking in every word. Loki and I never talked about April like this; not once, not ever. It was too painful of a subject, something that made the walls between us grow thicker, something that tore us apart. But we could only walk on eggshells for so long; and now, as he spoke of his side of the story… I found myself seeing it from his point of view, seeing it as he did, seeing it as nothing more than a cold calculation on the part of the ultimate strategist. He was a schemer; to him, April hadn't been a person. She'd just been a variable.

But, in other ways, I was surprisingly relieved; particularly because he had thought that I would not destroy the Avengers, that I would not kill anyone in cold blood, even to spare someone else that I loved. That was something that had bothered me for a year now; ever since I'd almost killed Bruce and Natasha in that battle, just to save my best friend… I had almost become a monster…

_I chose April very carefully, _Loki had the decency to look me in the eye as he said this, to not turn away… though he seemed to just still be studying me, still trying to figure out how I would react. _From all of your family and friends, she was the one best suited to my purposes. I knew that she carried a pocketknife, that she could sever the ropes that bound her. I knew that she would sacrifice everything to save you, just as you had been prepared to do the same for her. I knew that she had the same heroic- and perhaps self destructive- streak that you did. And I knew that you loved her; that she was, perhaps, more your family than your very blood… I knew how you would react should she die; particularly if she should die at her own hand, trying and failing to be a hero… dying for a pointless cause… I knew that you would no longer have a choice, that you would lose control over your emotions, that you would destroy New York without ever trying… _

I swallowed and closed my eyes. A tear overflowed and I wiped it off quickly. It made sense. All of it made a kind of sick, calculated _sense. _Loki had played my emotions just as he had played everyone else's; it had been harder with me, with my strange way of thinking, with my slight Death Wish, with everything else… but in the end, he had simply tailored his plan to fit his subject, his victim: me.

And that made sense. In the old days, I was just another mortal; I was of no consequence, I meant absolutely nothing. And he was just a crazy sociopath who wanted to rule the world. But now… well, now we knew each other better.

We were both quiet for a very long time; but finally, I asked him, _If you knew… If you knew then, who I was… if you knew what would happen… would you do it again? _

His head tilted to the side again, his eyes narrowing a little in thought. _No._

I nodded slowly, accepting that… but after a moment, I asked, _What if it meant that you won? That you got everything you ever wanted, that the Avengers were destroyed and you became king? Would you do it again? _

He held my gaze for an impressively long time; but then he looked away, turning his head to the side, no longer facing me, no longer looking towards me. He didn't answer. He didn't have to. The look in his eyes told me everything I needed to know.

I sighed heavily as I got to my feet. _That's what I thought, _I said, trying to smother my disappointment. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on snapping my projection back into myself, merging my two realities back into one. It took a while, but it finally happened; I opened my eyes and saw only my house, perfectly normal and plain. _Well. Time to go stop a Planet-Killer._

_Miss Frost… _Loki didn't seem to know what he wanted to say.

I swallowed. _I know. Don't worry about it. _I started towards the door, ready to head back to the Tower. _We've got real enemies to face right now._


	5. I Shoulda Stayed in Bed

When I went back to the Tower, Fraye said nothing about her earlier behavior, nothing about my flight from the place. She was waiting for me, drawing in her little notebook, all alone. I sat down next to her before any of the other Avengers could discover that I left her alone. After a while, she even giggled and showed me her most recent drawing, of a bunch of stick figures standing around a building. "Tha's Steve, an' Uncle Brucey, an' Tony, an' Clint, and Natasha, an' tha's you Nat'lee!" She positively squealed with delight.

I went along with her little game, gushing, "Oh, Fraye, that's so great!" But our eyes were locked dead on each other. We both knew the other's plan. We both knew what was really happening here. But neither of us said a word.

From that point, life went on as it usually did. I acted out my role, pretended that I loved Fraye just as much as everyone else, pretended that I, too, was looking for her parents, was trying to save her. In reality, however, every time I looked at her, the bitter taste in my mouth would grow stronger. My heart would pick up in pace as my teeth would clench… but I made certain the Avengers knew nothing of this, that they knew absolutely nothing of my secret resentment.

I hated lying to them. It was the second time since I'd met them that someone had tried to take over/destroy the world, and forced me to lie to protect them. And I hated it. The Avengers were my friends; more then that, some of them were like my family. Lying to them…. It just felt so wrong. But what could I do? Tell the truth? Tell them that Fraye, a little girl whom we'd been protecting, a young child with an innocent face and the most adorable way of speaking… was really a monster from another planet, a nightmare creature who had tortured Loki for months? Tell them that she intended on slaughtering everyone on the planet, planned on destroying everyone in her path for no other reason then that she could?

How could I tell them something like that? How could I voice the words out loud? _I _knew what Fraye was, and let me tell you; ignorance was bliss. Let them have that bliss a little longer.

Beyond that… it wasn't like they'd believe me if I told them, anyway. I knew what they'd say; and it wouldn't be that I was being paranoid, wouldn't be that I was acting ridiculous…

No. I knew who they would blame, and it would not be me. It wouldn't be Fraye, either. It would be Loki.

After all, Loki had made me say strange things before, had spoken through me on any number of occasions. The Trickster loved his little pranks, and the others all knew it by now. And if I insisted that it was true, insisted that Fraye was the bad guy, then they would merely suspect that Loki had managed to twist my mind; which might get me put under observation, or even imprisoned as well… No. It was too dangerous to tell them the truth. We couldn't risk it.

So I kept my big mouth shut for once. When Fraye cuddled up next to me, or to any of the others, I said nothing. When Tony made her laugh, or when she told her 'Uncle Brucey' not to get angry, or played with the miniature bow that Clint had given her, I said nothing. When she listened to Steve's stories about his old ex-girlfriend, or when she pretended that she was trying to sneak up on Natasha… I said nothing. I even said nothing when she tried to lift up Mjolnir, to everyone's amusement, though it gave me no small amount of pleasure to see that she could not. The others laughed it off and assured her that it was probably because she was so little; that she was obviously worthy enough to lift it, but that her muscles simply weren't strong enough. Whether or not they actually believed this, she at least acted like it cheered her up. But she still kept trying; I found her later that night, by herself, straining to lift it from where Thor had left it for her.

She saw me watching and turned, grinning. "It's incredible," She admitted, a bit breathless. "I actually _can not _lift it. That's never happened to me before. There's never been something I could not do." She slouched against the wall, staring at the hammer. Darkness suddenly swirled around it, shadows that buckled and strained against it, trying to pull it up from the ground… but nothing happened. It remained immobile. I didn't comment on the display of creepy shadow powers as she glanced out the window, to the moon above.

"Maybe there's some hope for me after all," she mused almost silently. I did not ask what she meant, though I tucked it away for later study. She looked back to me, lifting an eyebrow; like always, whenever she dropped her façade, I was startled by how adult her gestures seemed on her childish face.

"You can not lift it, either," she noted. It was not a question.

I shrugged. "Never tried. Doubt it, though." It was more than just doubt. I was completely certain that I could not lift it. Even if I was 'worthy' enough, (and, given the fact that I turned to lies and trickery before I asked my friends for help, not to mention my newfound propensity for plotting and scheming, it was safe to assume that I wasn't) well, I also had Loki in my head. If he couldn't, then I sure as hell couldn't.

Fraye took a step back and gestured with one small, pale hand; a flash of Loki's blood dripping down from her fingers ran through my mind. I pushed it aside and looked to Mjolnir; the shadows vaporized around it.

"It won't work," I told her.

She shrugged. "Indulge me."

I lifted both eyebrows, but did as she'd asked. Loki was curious, too, now that Fraye had pointed it out. I reached forward and gripped the handle, closing my eyes…

I struggled and strained to lift it, putting all of my strength into the task… I imagined it coming off the ground, springing into electric life in my hand… but of course, when I opened my eyes, nothing had happened. The hammer was still on the ground. And now my arms hurt like hell.

"Ta-dah," I said dully, releasing Mjolnir. A little smile crossed Fraye's face.

"Well, you're only human, after all," she said with a quiet chuckle; a spark of something less than sense danced in her eyes. My own eyes narrowed.

"And what are you?" I inquired, looking her up and down. "Not human. Not Asgardian. A lot tougher than both." I slouched against the wall, crossing my suddenly aching arms as I studied her. "And whatever you are, you scare the crap outta Loki. I'd shake your hand for that," my voice grew darker, "But you took it a little too far, wouldn't you say?"

She gave me a blissful smile, tilting her head back and resting it on the wall. "What about you? You nearly beat him to death. What makes my fun any different from your anger?"

"My anger had a reason. Your 'fun' is just… sadistic. Without any purpose. You destroy worlds for no other reason then that you're bored." I assumed, by this point, that Fraye had shut off JARVIS' access to this room; this conversation would remain private. So I had no qualms with saying the things that I was out loud.

She placed her palms flat on the wall behind her and used them to push herself upright, to propel her forwards a few steps. "You know… Loki is a very smart little toy. That's what makes him so much fun." She sighed exasperatedly. "But he needs to learn not to assume so much." At my confused look, she laughed. "You see it, too, don't you?" She rolled her eyes. She was so different from Loki, so much more relaxed, so much more… human. She played the role of a mortal very, very well; better than Loki ever could. If he ever stooped that low, which he probably wouldn't.

"He assumes that I have no reason for this. That I'm just destroying worlds with reckless abandon." She waved her hand about airily. "He's completely right, but… I do this for a reason. I am the way I am for a _reason_."

_And… playing me. _

She heard my unspoken thought and laughed again. "Worth a try," she said innocently. "But I actually _do_ have a reason." She winked. "The universe owes me, Natalie Frost. The universe owes me so much. And I intend to make it pay in full." She held out her hands in a what-can-you-do kind of gesture. "It's just a fact of life."

My eyes narrowed. "Not on my planet, it's not," I growled dangerously. Her eyes twinkled with a hysterical, dark light.

"Oh, but it's not _your _planet. Not anymore. It's _mine._" She took a step towards me. For someone so small and childlike, she was pretty freaking terrifying. "Get used to it."

She strode past me, black hair flicking behind her, the shadows lapping at her feet like trained dogs… I watched her go in silence, listened as she squealed in delight. "Clint! I hit the target! I pulled the string back an' aimed jus' like you told me too an' I hit it!"

"Great job, Fraye," Clint congratulated her. I found myself surprisingly… envious. Clint never congratulated me when _we _worked together, when _I _did something right in combat practice… He wasn't proud of _me…_

I shook myself out of it. Jealousy never used to be an issue with me, not really; if people liked someone else better then they liked me, that was their problem. I didn't care. But since Loki had gotten in my head, that had changed; his jealousy was such a prevalent feature in his life, his envy for his brother seeping through him, creeping into my bones. Ugh, he could be such a _girl _sometimes…

_I beg to differ. _

_Hush, you._

I walked out of the room, out to where Fraye was showing Clint how she'd fired her arrow and showed how close it had gotten to the bull's-eye… he chuckled and stroked her hair back gently, with all of the tender care of an older brother. I bit my lip. Even the spies… even the freaking _spies…_

"Natalie?" Steve came into the room from the side. He looked at me, his head tilting to the side. "Is something wrong?"

Everything. Everything was wrong. But I plastered a smile on my face anyway. "Nah. Just a bit tired. I'm heading up." I feigned a yawn. "Night, you two. Make sure Fraye gets some sleep tonight, ok?"

"Will do," Clint said easily. Fraye faked a pout; she liked to watch TV until at least three in the morning. Or, at least, she _pretended _to like doing that.

"Don't forget you promised to call your parents before you went to bed tonight," Steve pointed out. I swore inwardly; I'd actually completely forgotten that.

"Thanks, Soldier Boy," I said, unsure of whether or not I was being sarcastic. I headed for the elevator; most of the others were either sleeping, going to sleep, or somewhere else in the Tower, so I skipped saying good night to any of them. The elevator made it to my floor, and I navigated my way to my room.

I took my phone out of my pocket and stared at it for a long time before I finally dialed. As I did so, I growled at Loki, _Behave._ He didn't answer.

After a few rings, my father's voice came over the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey, Cameron," I said, jumping onto my bed and kicking my feet up. My toes wiggled about nervously in my slipper-socks. "It's me."

"Oh, hi, Natalie," He said, and I could hear his tone shifting, as it always did whenever he talked to me. Well, to anyone, really. People always seem to change personalities, depending on who they're talking to. "How have you been?"

"Pretty good," I answered. "Really busy with the job."

"So you've said. Your mother has been counting the days; says its been almost a month."

"What can I say? Superheroes keep weird schedules."

"Uh-huh." There was a trace of disbelief in his tone. "And what about their enemies? Do they keep strange hours, too?"

I gripped a handful of the sheet beneath me. "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, nothing. You just… seem to prefer working on your relationship with Loki more than your relationships with your own family." I could hear resentment creeping into his words.

I scowled. "You really wanna go that route tonight, Cameron?" I asked coldly. There was a quiet moment, and I added, "Because if you do, I think I should let you know that I haven't seen Loki face-to-face in about three weeks. The Avengers have kept me at the Tower."

Another pause. Then, he chuckled softly. "I guess I don't want to go there, then," he said amicably. "Sorry, Nat. We just miss you."

"_Mom_ misses me," The words were out before I could stop them. Stupid, stupid, _stupid!_ I pinched the bridge of my nose and let out a long, slow sigh. "Look. I know that you miss me. I miss you too; I miss you both… so much." I swallowed, my throat suddenly thick. If Fraye had her way, then this whole planet was going to burn. The whole world would go up in flames… and I still couldn't tell my father I loved him.

I hate my life.

"I… I know that this sounds like serious bullshit, but… it's not. I've been locked up at the Tower for a long time. There's a… a new threat." I paused. "Listen… about that… I was wondering… if maybe you and mom could get out of New York for a while. Go somewhere else- _anywhere _else. Just… Just for a little while?"

There was silence for a moment. Then, "It's that bad, huh?"

"It's really awful." I kept out any mention of Fraye; Tony listened in on my personal conversations when he was bored. But the 'shadows' that 'attacked' her would seem like enough of a threat to warrant something like this.

If only they knew.

"Well, I doubt your mother will leave. If anything, she'll just freak out and make you come home, superhero or no."

I heard myself in his words and looked away; what I was looking away _from, _I had no idea. "So I'd be the first Avenger in history who gets scolded by their mom. Lovely."

He chuckled. "I'm not going to leave you here alone, either, Natalie."

"What, you think you guys can protect me?" I asked, not unkindly. "Face it, Cameron. You're only human. Something happens, and you're toast."

"Probably true," he admitted; but his voice was cut off by someone else's, a little more shrill, high-pitched… my mother.

"Is that Natalie? Have you told her yet?" she fired off the questions like a machine gun, asking the second before my father had a chance to even comprehend the first. I lifted both eyebrows as I heard my father cover the mouthpiece of the phone.

"It's not… she should hear over… phone," his voice was garbled and quiet, but I managed to get those few words. As he uncovered the mouthpiece again, my mother said, "You should tell her, anyway. She hasn't been able to see you face-to-face for a month now, what makes you think that'll change anytime soon?"

Of course, I couldn't let that go. "Tell me what?" I asked innocently. I could hear my father's less-than-amused frown in his response.

"It's nothing, Natalie."

"Oh, I think it's something," I sat back, twirling my hair around my finger. "Come on, spill it. Tell Dr. Frost everything."

"You ain't _my _shrink, Nat," He shot back, but it was light and teasing; he really was so much like me… it was incredible, the things he would say, the things that _I _would have said in his situation… I pushed the thought aside.

"Ah, but I'm having a special. Free therapy sessions for all parents."

He laughed quietly, but didn't say anything. I bit my lip. "Come on, Cameron. You might as well tell me, or mom and I will have to double-team you until you do."

He sighed. "I suppose that's true." He paused; I gave him a moment to collect his thoughts. Then, his voice a little quieter, more solemn, "Just… don't worry, ok?"

"Why would I worry?" I asked, and naturally started worrying immediately. You just don't say 'don't worry' to people.

"Well… I went to the doctor a few weeks back."

Okay. Okay, fun. That's another thing you _just don't say_ to people; especially following the words 'don't worry'.

"I'd been getting a lot of headaches, dizzy spells, that sort of thing," he was talking very flippantly, but my heart was pounding suddenly. Was this possible? Was my luck really _this _bad, that we might defeat Fraye only to have some stupid disease take my dad from me, anyway?

Well, considering the fact that you're talking about a girl who can't deliver a pizza without getting nano-infected….

He didn't stand a chance.

"Anyway, the doctors did a few tests, and they… they found something." He sighed deeply. "I wanted to say this to you face-to-face."

My heart was pounding. "What did they find?" I asked, my voice a bit strangled.

He sighed again. "Like I said, you don't need to worry, but… they found a lesion on my brain."

Time froze. For the longest of moments, the entire world was completely silent… and then it started moving again, all too quickly, long before I could pull myself together. Because time is a jerk like that.

"The doctor said that it seemed benign, that so far it's not doing any real damage… but I'm going to need to get a few more checkups from time to time, see what happens."

My eyes slid to the mirror. Loki's eyes glanced back at me. He stood in my reflection, a distant look on his face.

_Just tell me, _I ordered harshly. _Is this __**your**__ fault? _

He met my gaze for a second, then looked away. I closed my eyes and let out a very heavy, deep sigh. _That's what I thought. _

"You there, Nat?" My father asked. I swallowed.

"Yeah. I'm here."

"I didn't tell them anything," his voice got suddenly quieter. "I didn't say anything about… You know. Him."

I swallowed. So the implications were not lost on my father, either. I guessed it was inevitable; Cameron's brain had been seriously screwed with. You couldn't just do something like that and not expect consequences.

"Thanks," I said, my mind buzzing.

"Not like they would have believed me, anyway."

Truth in that. I frowned, my mind already working on this latest problem. "Hey… when's your next checkup?"

"Um… next Tuesday. Why?"

I chewed on my lip in concentration. "Well, I'm thinking that maybe you shouldn't go back to that doctor. I can call the guys at S.H.I.E.L.D.; if it is something that Loki did"- my throat felt dry as I said 'if'- "then they'll have more experience. They might be able to help you better than another doctor could." I frowned. "And the Asgardians might be amenable to something. But if the lesions aren't malignant, then I don't want to risk that one just yet; politics and all. World-ending stuff. You understand, right?"

"Yeah," he chuckled. "I'm just surprised; I forgot how determined you could get about this sort of thing. Actually, about anything."

I smiled a little in response. "Never underestimate the power of a Frost on a mission," I joked hollowly.

"How very true," my father said thoughtfully. He seemed to shake himself out of whatever he was thinking, because he added, "All right. I'll let you go; let you get some sleep. I'm sure that'd be welcome, since you've been so busy and all."

I scowled. "You really expect me to sleep after that? Sheesh, Cameron. You have less tact than I do."

He laughed; a real laugh this time, a nice, loud laugh. Why did I always hate hearing that laugh? Why was it always so wrong to see my father happy? I pushed the thought aside, blaming it on Loki, as my father said, "Fair enough. I'll let you go, anyway. I'm sure you're going to do some research now, at least."

I grinned. "You know me too well."

"No, I know your _mother._ I told her the news on the way home from the doctor; by the time I'd gotten to the front door, she'd texted me three separate links about symptoms and possible treatments."

I snorted. "Figures, that she finally figures out technology and decides to plague us with it."

He laughed again. "I'll see you soon, Nat."

"Bye…" I tried to get the word out; but I heard the click on the other end before I could choke out, "Dad."

Damn.

I sighed and placed the phone on the nightstand, tilting my head back onto my pillows and closing my eyes. I took a deep, shaky breath.

"JARVIS?"

There was a beep. "Yes, Miss Natalie?"

"I want you to do a web search. Brain lesions. I wanna know types, symptoms, treatments, the works."

"Of course, Miss Natalie."

"Just give me a summarized version," I added, picking up one of the glass tablets that linked with the Tower. Words started flashing across the screen as JARVIS connected me to the internet, and I bit my lip, scanning it quickly. I didn't get very far before another beep alerted me to a room-to-room call.

"Hey, Nat," Tony's voice came over the intercom. I looked up at the ceiling. "Just heard about your father. Tough breaks."

I glared at nothing. "You know, there is such a thing as 'privacy' in the real world."

"You don't live in the real world anymore." There was a pause. Then, a little kinder, he asked, "Are you ok?"

I smiled a little. Tony could be a jerk, but when it came right down to it, he was a good guy. The Tin Man had a heart. "I'm fine, Tone."

My door suddenly opened; I sat upright and looked to it in surprise as Tony entered, pulling up a chair. I scowled. "I locked that for a reason."

"My tower. My rules."

"My room. _My _rules. Rule one: leave Natalie the frick alone when she finds out that Loki did _one more thing _to screw her life up."

"Doesn't work that way, Pizza Girl," He held up one finger, the other hand still behind his back. "Rule one of Stark Tower: Always listen to the man whose name is on the building. Rule Two…" He pulled his hand out from behind him; in it was a small bucket of ice cream and a silver spoon. He held it out to me. "Always keep Natalie's comfort foods in stock."

I couldn't stop the smile that took over my face. I took the proffered ice cream, removing the lid and digging in, mumbling against the spoon, "You're going to make me fat."

He grinned, but didn't say anything. I kept the spoon in my mouth for a long moment, just holding it there, too occupied with my own thoughts to actually eat any more. Finally, I pulled it out; it clacked against my teeth quietly. "Thanks."

"What're friends for?"

I hesitated. Yeah. Friends. In the old days, this would have been April's job; but now… now that role fell to the Avengers.

The only difference… I didn't lie to April. Not often, not really. And when I did, she usually knew right away; she just didn't say anything. The Avengers were another matter entirely.

Loki saw where the conversation was heading; and he did not approve. _Do not say another word, Frost._

Of course, that only made up my mind for me. I was feeling a bit reckless, I'll admit. "This whole privacy thing… I mean, I can never keep secrets from you." I toyed with the spoon, using it to stab at my ice cream.

"Is that a bad thing?" He asked.

"I dunno. _You_ can keep secrets from _me_." I swallowed. "It's a trust issue, I guess."

_Stop talking. Stop talking right now, mortal. _

I gave him the most churlish, childish response imaginable: _Make me._

_Do not tempt me._

Tony gave me one of his scrutinizing looks; the one where, if you didn't know him well enough, you'd swear that he didn't care about what you were saying in the slightest. "It probably doesn't mean much, but I don't have any secrets." He sat back. "Nothing I wouldn't mind telling you."

I gave him a little half-smirk. "Oh, really? So why do you hate the shrink-couch so much? More then that, why do you try and sabotage my reports?" As he looked ready to protest, I cut him off. "Don't give me that, I know you do."

He shrugged. "You, I trust. Fury, I do not." I smiled faintly, and he studied me for a moment. "Where's this coming from, anyway?" His eyebrows furrowed. "I mean… you don't have any secrets… do you?"

I opened my mouth. I formed the words in my throat. I was completely and totally ready to say, 'I might', or 'maybe'.

Instead, however, I just laughed a little and answered, "Nah. Just thinking too much again, that's all."

_Dammit, Loki._

_You will not destroy everything simply because of your guilty conscience._ He said, as aloof as always. As I grumbled inwardly, cursing a few times, he sighed and added, _Patience. Fraye will reveal her true colors soon enough._

_You know what? Maybe __**that's **__your problem. Maybe you're just too freaking __**patient.**_

_And you are not patient enough._

_You should be more spontaneous. Impulsive. Learn to ditch the endless planning and just… live a little. _

_Then I would be my brother. _

"Aaannnddd… I've lost you." Tony said, shaking his head back and forth. I looked to him, shaken out of my mental battle with the Trickster. "Inevitable."

"Sorry?" I asked, confused. Tony sighed through his nose.

"You know, I can spy on your conversations. I can bring you ice cream when you need it. I can talk it out with you. I can whoop your ass at video games." He shook his head again. "But in the end, I can't be him."

I flushed as I realized what, exactly, he was saying. He went on, "No matter what, it's only a matter of time before you phase out, and I lose you." His lip tugged downward. "Which I would be completely cool with, if it wasn't _him._ The man just gave your father a brain lesion, for crying out loud, and you're _still_ going to him."

My cheeks burned even hotter. I felt my ears turn red and swallowed a massive bite of ice cream in an attempt to give myself a moment to think of a good response. Why was it that my mouth always said had a snappy, sarcastic remark whenever I _didn't _need it, but whenever I desperately needed to fill the silence, nothing would come out?

Finally, swallowing another bite, I said, "We don't know that it was Loki…" he shot me a look and I shut up again. Yes. Yes we did. I cleared my throat and tried once more. "Look, can we just… not talk about him right now? I mean, Loki isn't everything. I do have a life outside of just him."

_Whatever gave you that idea?_

_Oh, shut up._

Tony lifted an eyebrow, then shrugged. "Sure."

The two of us fell into light conversation; it was uneasy at first, but we eventually fell back into our old pattern. I noticed with no small degree of bitterness that Loki got exactly what he wanted; I did not bring up my secrets again, said not a word about them; and when Tony eventually left, taking the empty ice cream carton with him, I was still left telling lies.

I did not protest; I was too exhausted to say another word. It had been too long of a day. I curled up under the blanket, tucked my arm under my pillow, and closed my eyes… I could hear my heartbeat in my ears; once, twice… and then I was gone.

* * *

_Tied down. Chained, shackled, bound, the shadows holding me in place. Alone now, though I know that she will return, that she will come back for me, the woman with my blood on her hands, the woman whose name I do not know… whose name I do not __**wish **__to know… _

_Alone in the darkness. Fire in my lungs as I struggle with each breath. Every part of me hurts. The stinging cuts, the lashing lines of blood across my back, my arms, my hands. I can barely move through the pain, the utter agony of each and every breath…_

_My own blood pools around me. It is everywhere. It stains the entire world, stains the very shadows… And suddenly I remember something, something that I had forgotten, something that I had pushed aside…_

_I am a Frost Giant. And a Frost Giant's blood is not red. It is blue; a dark, dangerous blue, blue as their skin… not this red, like the red of their eyes, the red of my eyes… I fight a horrible laugh as I tilt my head back, as I close my swollen, blackened eyes… But even if I wished to, I know that I could not laugh, that the pain is too great, the fire in my lungs too much… I would surely burn…_

_But as I look at the blood around me, I see it. I see that it is only fitting, only right, that my very blood should be a lie. It pretends to be red as I pretend to be Asgardian, pretends to be crimson as I pretend to be great. _

_Lies are everywhere in my life. I am nothing but a lie, whispered in someone's ear, a quiet deception told to keep the rest of the world silent, to keep everyone in the dark…_

_It is only right, that my blood should be a lie as well. _

_Deception flows in my veins. Deceit rushes through me with every beat of my heart. Falsehoods, fabrications, dishonesty and trickery… they flow from these wounds, flow from the gashes that decorate my form… Even my death is a lie, for as much as I have plead for it, as much as it has promised to come, I still live, I still breathe, I still burn…_

_How could I be anything but what I have become? _

"Wakey, wakey, Natalie."

The cold, ice-bitten voice shocked me out of sleep as frozen fingers brushed my hair away from my face. Fraye's black eyes stared back at me, her white teeth sparkling in the grey dawn light. "It's time."

I shook myself out of sleep, pulling myself upright. "Time?" I asked, still groggy. "Time for what?"

"What else?" She winked. "The plan's coming together." She took a step towards me. "It's time for the reign of blood."

_Oh shit._

I tore out of the bed- still in my freaking _PJs- _throwing the covers back and getting to my feet in seconds. I ripped off the slipper-socks; they'd just get in the way, slipping and sliding across the floor. Fraye giggled.

"Let's see if you can survive it," She said, walking to the window. As she threw it open and jumped out, falling who-knew-how-many-stories to the planet below, I started calling across to the other part of my brain.

_Loki. Loki, get up!_

He stirred a little, but didn't wake. I didn't want to risk it, but I found myself checking out his dreams, anyway; and, naturally, it was another nightmare. It was not the same as mine had been, but that was nothing new. I often had dreams from Loki's point of view, and he frequently had dreams from mine. Usually nightmares in both cases.

_Loki, Fraye's on the rampage! Get the hell up!_

Still nothing. I turned to the window. I knew from experience that I could survive a trip down in the same manner; if I had the bubble. Well, right now, it wasn't hard to find reasons to be angry. Or afraid, for that matter. I took a deep breath, allowing my rage to fill me up, to take me over… unleashing something inside… a glow flared into life over my body, and something exploded away from me: the bubble. It snapped into its spherical shape, visible in light, Tesseract-blue for a brief second before vanishing into nothing.

It still wasn't enough. I could fight with the bubble-form of my force field, but it was better when I had Loki fighting with me, easier when the field could be manipulated, worked with. I screamed as loud as I could in my brain.

_LOKI! GET AWAKE! __**NOW!**_

His eyes snapped open. In a brief second, he took in the situation; immediately, he went into action, suppressing my emotions, quelling everything in me that was not fear and fury. The force field fell into my command in a heartbeat, and I ran to the window, throwing myself out of it as I heard alarms start to blare, as lights were thrown on everywhere… as I fell, I heard someone's screams over the loud roar of the wind in my ears…

It was happening.

It was actually happening.

I could feel Loki's fear like a virus within me; I used it as my own fear, used it as though it were mine to command. Now was not the time to freak out; now was the time to fight. And fight we would; because fight we must.

I kept falling, down, down, down into the grey dawn light, the ground rushing at me, faster and faster… I braced myself, waiting for impact…

When it happened, I felt nothing; but the world crumbled around me, the concrete crushed beneath my feet, the force of the blow ricocheting across the bubble, digging into the ground… My shield rippled into blue visibility for only the briefest of seconds as dust went up into the air; I coughed a few times, waving my hand in front of my face as I pulled myself out of the self-made crater.

I heard screaming again, and the sound of gunfire… Tony's cries, Natasha's weapon. I threw myself inside of the Tower, racing to where I knew Natasha's and Clint's rooms were; close to the entrance, so that they could easily slip out and escape, should an emergency like this arise. I saw something fly past me and whirled to the side so that I could catch it; Tony collided with me, and the two of us were sent backwards… I sent sharp points out from the force field and into the ground, extending away from my feet, digging into the floor, leaving deep gouges as I kept falling back… but then they slowed me down, stopped me, and I remained upright as Tony fell to the ground, his flight stopped as well. He wasn't in his suit, wasn't wearing his armor, so I assumed it wasn't an 'intentional' flight.

"Fraye!" He gasped as he pulled himself upright. "It's Fraye, she's gone insane!"

"I know!" I shouted, pushing him aside. "Go suit up; I'll help the others!"

He nodded quickly, fiercely, and I started running again. I heard Clint and Natasha fighting together, heard Fraye's hysterical laughter… I barreled into the room, throwing myself at the little girl… I knocked her aside like a sack of potatoes, but she stopped herself from going too far back into the air with a swirl of shadow; the darkness wrapped itself around her, held her off the ground. She kept laughing as I ordered the other two, "Go get the others! I'll hold her off!"

Natasha did as I asked; Clint merely armed his bow, aiming it at Fraye. "Stand down, kid! Now!"

She just laughed (she never stopped _laughing)_; a slice of shadow threw itself towards him; he dodged, rolling to the side, and came up firing; the arrow flew towards Fraye's eye, would have hit her… but the shadows converged together, like two waves crashing against each other; when the arrow hit, it fell to the ground uselessly, the shaft broken in two.

I charged towards her, trying to light up my skin ever brighter, to make the glow stronger… but it did little to nothing against the swarming darkness. And still she giggled, an insane glint in her eyes, a hysterical smile on her face…

Two seconds later, and Iron Man flew into the room, breaking through the wall, his armor shining despite the dust that started raining down. He aimed his repulsors at the little girl. "Fraye! What is _wrong _with you?"

"Wrong with me?" She asked, her lips curling back from her bright white teeth. "What's wrong? Everything is wrong, Stark! Everything that lives is wrong! Everything must _die!_"

Loki swallowed, but pushed aside his fear, pushed aside his terror… he kept fighting to hold my emotions in check, to keep me angry, his mind and mine planning together, our thoughts intertwining…

"Stark!" I shouted. "Just shoot her already!"

Clint was taking my advice and firing arrow after arrow towards Fraye; the shadows kept swirling about them, flinging them aside, breaking them in half; one of them actually exploded, but the shadows wrapped around the flames, snuffing the explosion out before it even happened. I stared.

Shadows flickered out of Fraye's hair, danced along her fingertips, crept away from her feet… the darkness swirled all around her as she flung herself backwards, outside of the Tower, out into the street… Clint and I exchanged a look, then threw ourselves after her. Tony soon followed… but we all stopped dead in our tracks at the sight that awaited us out there.

The shadows pulled themselves together, emerging from thin air and swirling into massive forms… the darkness built itself up, taking shape and form… they solidified into massive creatures, with fur like shadows cast from firelight, teeth sharp as a razor's edge, eyes black as midnight… a low, primal growl vibrated through the air, louder and louder, a sound that brought forth every animal instinct I had…

Shadow Hounds.

Three of them.

_She expects us to live through this? _I thought incredulously, staring at the nightmarish creatures before me. They lurched forwards, advancing… I forced my glow hotter, brighter, trying to focus my rage… Clint and I shared another look, then nodded and ran forwards. Our thoughts, I'm sure were the same; we had a city to protect, after all.

_They're not getting past us._

As I flung myself at the Hound in front of me, it dodged to the side; I quickly lost myself in the dance of our battle, the strikes, the blows, the snapping teeth, the defensive blocks… I lost track of how many times the claws dug into my force field, how many times I held my breath, hoping it would not yield… how many times it saved my life…

My thoughts and Loki's merged, our attack synchronizing, his fight experience compiling with my fighting style; I kicked and hit and dodged, my field manipulating itself around me, into sharp points and edges, cutting into the creature, only to have it reform again… The battle exploded all around me, Clint's arrows striking the creatures he attacked with pinpoint accuracy, hitting their eyes, their paws, anywhere he could… explosions flared into life as I heard Fraye's mad giggles, as though this was just the most beautiful of games…

Teeth snapped at my shoulder as I jammed my fist into the Hound's muzzle, snapping its mouth shut; I flung a sharp point towards its black eye as I saw Tony attacking the third monster, the repulsors firing, making the Hound shrink back and whimper, only to re-form and strike again… I heard the crunch of metal as it managed to dig its teeth into the armor; a second repulsor blast shocked the creature backwards, and it yelped in pain…

Howling filled the air as I held onto my Hound's teeth, clinging on for dear life as it shook its head back and forth, trying to dislodge me… the fight had dissolved into chaos… I heard the roar of thunder above, the crackle of lightning… Thor burst in, sending the monsters flying back with a blow to the ground… electricity flared out in vicious arcs, scattering the creatures… only to have them regroup around Fraye, their master, who was still hovering above the ground, the shadows dancing in her eyes, weaving themselves around her body, striking at those who still fought against her… I caught a glimpse of Natasha's red hair, streaming towards Clint as the two took on the monster together…

One of the creatures barreled into me, teeth snapping, and I brought my arms up in an 'X' above my face, blocking my one weakness as it tried desperately to rip me apart… the shadows whispered around me, searching for my weak point, ready to flow inside my protective shield, to invade my second skin… These shadows were thrown aside by repulsor blasts as Loki's idea crossed my mind, as his battle strategy made my hands go upwards, clap together, the bubble expanding in a point away from them… it stabbed through the Shadow Hound's mouth, up through its head, black blood draining from it as it let out a whine, falling back, exploding into nothing but darkness around me.

The shadows that once formed it pooled around my feet as I struggled to stand, exhaustion filling my every muscle. But then the shadows pulled themselves together again, and the Hound was alive and howling again… I placed my hands on my knees, panting, swaying. _Oh, come on!_

_Don't think, _Loki insisted. After all, we didn't need to think, not yet, not this time. We just had to survive. We had to get to the next stage of our plan.

_Fight, _he ordered, and I brought my fists up again, charging the Hound.

All around me, the world had descended into madness, accented by the sound of Fraye's unceasing, demented laughter… I suddenly saw Bruce in front of her, still in human form, trying to plead with her, to reason with her.

"Fraye, stop this!" He shouted. It was so rare, to hear him shout. "Please! We are your friends!"

She squealed in delight. "Friends? My dear Uncle Brucey: you are my _toys!_ Dance, my little puppets, dance!" She threw out an almost casual hand; the shadows flung themselves away from her fingers, colliding into his chest, throwing him backwards, shoving him down to the ground and skidding painfully across the asphalt.

"Bruce!" I screamed; but I could not move to help him; a Shadow Hound's claws began to rain down on me, and I tried to shove it aside, to fight it again… I caught sight of Bruce slowly standing, getting to his feet. Carefully, each and every movement perfectly planned and controlled, he removed his glasses from his pocket and set them beside Stark Tower; as though they wouldn't end up destroyed, anyway. His skin began to darken. His muscles began to ripple.

The Shadow Hound knocked me off my feet, snapping at my head… I threw a sharp fist into its muzzle; it yelped as I kept punching, losing myself into the fight once again, living in the moment, each breath consisting of only the next strike, only the next move. Because if I stopped for even a second, I was dead, or one of the Avengers was dead, or one of the innocent civilians in the street was _dead. _

A massive, blood-curdling roar filled the air… something huge and green flung itself into the Shadow Hound, throwing it off of me, driving it into the ground… bulging arms wrapped tightly around the creature, crushing ribs, crushing the entire creature in a death grip. The Hound whined, then exploded into nothingness, into shadow. The Hulk stood up from it, features twisted dangerously.

The Hulk whirled on me. I looked at him, wide-eyed and powerless, lying helpless on my back.

I'd forgotten how freaking _huge _the guy was…

I gave him a grateful nod, and, though he barely acknowledged me, he launched himself towards the second Hound… Fraye was watching him closely, her laughter dying at last, but a smile still decorated her face as she watched him systematically remove the threats, a display of brute force, pure power and strength…

The Hulk decimated the other two Shadow Hounds in a matter of moments; he even ripped one apart with his bare hands. They both dissolved into darkness and did not reform. And then he whirled on Fraye, a snarl on his face as he roared again.

The little girl clapped slowly, taking a step down from where she hovered; the shadows formed a flat surface beneath her foot, holding her upright. She took another step, and the shadows did so again, step by step; and with each of those steps, her face morphed and changed, her figure shifting. She grew slowly taller, thinner, paler. She lost the childhood baby fat and then some, turning into an almost skeletal figure, her entire form shifting and changing. Loki started to shiver, to tremble at the sight of her; I could almost see his blood on her hands. Fire burned in my gut as I thought of what she had done to him, thought of how I was going to make her pay… Loki latched onto my anger, tried to use it as I had used his fear, tried to use it to banish his sudden terror.

By the time Fraye stood on the ground and stopped clapping, she was the perfect image of what I had seen before; all grown up and dangerous as hell. The shadows danced around her, the shades lapping at her feet.

"Finally, a challenge," She said, looking Hulk in the eye. His fists tightened; he roared a final time, throwing himself towards her…

At that moment, I wondered how Loki could have ever thought that the Avengers would lose to this girl, to this woman who was supposedly so dangerous. How he could ever see anything happening but this inevitable outcome; that the Hulk would take one look at Fraye and throw her around like a rag doll, just like he had done to Loki himself. Seeing the difference between them, seeing how small Fraye was compared to his enormous monster… The girl didn't stand a chance. Even the other Avengers were just sitting back to enjoy the show.

As the Hulk charged towards Fraye, she danced out of the way on light feet, moving faster than I ever would have thought possible. The Hulk reacted quickly, throwing out another blow, enormous hands reaching out to grab her, to pick her up and fling her back down to the ground… a shadow sliced at his hand, cut across it; he reacted, pulling his hand back, though it obviously did not break skin.

And then, suddenly, they dissolved into a blur of fighting; the Avengers and I stayed where we were, unmoving, disbelief keeping us rooted to the spot, keeping us immobile. The Hulk went about striking at Fraye with his usual lack of subtlety, pure brute strength flinging itself at her small form. Every time, she danced aside, dodging and weaving, sending blow after shadowed blow back in his direction; the blackness swirled around him, slashing and stabbing, pure power pushing him backwards… his feet dug into the ground, digging gouges out of the concrete, keeping him from sliding back as he struck at the shadows, ripping them apart, tearing into them. Fraye resumed her crazed laughter, but I could see a trickle of sweat on her forehead; the Hulk, at least, was a difficult challenge.

Natasha was the first to recover. "Come on," She said, reloading her gun. "He needs our help."

Anyone whose eyes were not glued to the battle turned to her, incredulous. That should not have been possible. That should never have been said. The fact that it was… it was wrong. It went against all known laws of the universe.

Hawkeye recovered as well, loading his bow, and Steve-whom I finally caught sight of- soon followed. As the Hulk landed a blow on Fraye, we all froze; she was made airborne, flying backwards… she landed in the Earth, limp and immobile, a Fraye-shaped crater surrounding the area around her. The Hulk let out a growl and started advancing towards her again; slowly, incredibly, she pulled herself upright, a maniacal smile on her face.

She saw us coming then, out of the corner of her eye, and she turned to us and snarled, "Oh, no you don't." She plunged a hand towards the ground; as it struck, the shadows converged on it, crashing together in a violent storm, throwing themselves upright, forming another nightmarish creature… Another Shadow Hound, far larger than any of the others. It tilted its head to the sky and howled, that low, melancholy note that dredged up the worst emotions I had, formed a terrifying storm in my heart. The Hulk made an attempt to change his course, his usual battle strategy (see something, destroy it) changing his direction, so that he could tackle this latest threat … But Fraye stood in the way, wiping her lip, her hands clawing at her sides.

"Let's dance," She said with a girlish giggle. The two of them went at it again as the other Avengers and I all went into immediate action against the Hound. It battled back, severe and fierce, lunging towards us with ever-increasing, ever-breathtaking speed. I kept Loki's focus on the Hound, trying to keep my eyes away from Fraye, because every time I looked, Loki would end up shivering, momentarily paralyzed. And right now, I needed him too desperately; I was in the battle of my life, fighting this creature with the other Avengers.

Every time we would dig gouges out of it-whether using Tony's repulsors, Clint's explosive arrows, Steve's shield, or my force field- it would simply breathe in the shadows around it, becoming bigger, stronger, faster. Large teeth and claws lunged forwards at my fellow attackers, sometimes missing broadly, sometimes missing by inches, and occasionally not missing at all, shoving them back or drawing blood from smaller wounds.

I was getting exhausted, my knees week, my arms and legs drained. I was a college student, not a superhero; I wasn't built for this kind of crap. But still I fought on, pushing the pain aside, submerging myself in the adrenaline of the moment, fighting as fiercely as I was able…

As Iron Man fired a bazillion tiny missiles at the creature, the thing exploded in a flash of light and dark, the ground spewing up dust and rock and earth. We all started coughing, struggling to breathe… I could see a number of gnarly wounds on almost every one of them. Natasha had a nasty gash on her shoulder, Clint's arm was totally bloodied, Steve's side was gushing red, and Tony's armor had been crushed in places, the paint scratched and scuffed up everywhere. I, thankfully, had nothing but a few bruises, and Thor seemed much the same, but everyone else looked like hell. We waited for the creature to reappear, all of us getting ready to fight again.

But nothing happened.

The reason why was almost immediately plain; Fraye was pretty occupied at the moment. She and the Hulk were locked in a death match, the fight of the century, speed and power versus pure, raw, furious strength. The Hulk clapped his hands together, trying to crush her beneath them, but she simply flipped out of the way, taking to the skies as the slamming of his palms sent out a shockwave of energy that touched even us, standing as far away as we were. Fraye hovered in the air, the shadows holding her aloft, then dropped back down to the ground, throwing a blow towards the Hulk's face; it caught him square in the jaw, and he took a startled step back. Fraye did not let it stop there; she threw blow after blow, strike after strike, shadow after shadow, the darkness unrelenting as it hit him again and again and again.

I gasped as sudden pain stabbed my heart; it was so intense that I dropped to my knees, gulping down air. My head screamed, my heart pounded, and a cold sweat broke out on the back of my neck. Loki was losing it. He was absolutely losing it. The two most powerful beings in the universe, the two people who had utterly defeated him, were currently both fighting for control, fighting to stay alive. The very fact that Fraye was standing her own against the Hulk was… incredible. Impossible. And utterly terrifying.

_Loki? Loki, stay with me,_ I pleaded, trying to calm him down. _It's ok, you're ok, she's no where near you, she can't touch you, she's not going to hurt you yet, you're safe, you're fine…_

But this was not true. Because, at that moment, all the way in Asgard, the lights went out, and Loki was plunged into darkness.

_He's afraid of the dark._

I immediately started cussing out whoever was responsible in my head; Loki went absolutely insane, stumbling backwards, deeper into the darkness, the blackness that scared even me, a person who had never had a problem with the dark. He thrashed, fighting the invisible, fighting the blackness that could not be-could never be- touched.

_Loki, please, you're fine, it's ok, just focus, you're fine, _I was practically begging by this point; his fear was overwhelming me, taking me over… I felt the bubble flicker and die around me, my anger too far diminished, too far gone. My hands shook violently. There was nothing left of my fury; there was only Loki's terror. I tried to spread the glow around me, but even that light died, taken away by the fear that was Fraye Burns. I could see and hear nothing but blood and death and dread, could feel nothing but the pain that he remembered, the pain that he had suffered through.

"Natalie? Are you ok?" I was pretty sure it was Steve's voice, but not positive.

"Fine!" I lied, shouting. "Just… stop her!" I clutched my head tightly, suppressing a scream. _Loki, dammit, you've got to __**listen **__to me! We have a plan, remember? She's no where near you!_

I heard her laughing suddenly. I looked up in horror as she paused in her fight just long enough to wink at me.

_That little __**bitch. **_

It _was _her fault. I didn't know how she'd done it, didn't know how she could _possibly _be that powerful… but then, magic didn't always have limits. Loki's connection with me was incredibly strong, no matter the distance; it did not matter that we were worlds apart. That was just how it worked. But if Fraye could control the shadows, even from that far away…

Then Loki really _was _in danger…

He huddled up in a corner, alone in the dark, alone as he had always been. I switched tactics. _Listen to me! __**Listen!**__ Are you an immortal or __**aren't**__ you? Are you really going to allow this fear to override your life? Fear is nothing! Fear is an illusion! It does not exist; it can not be __**allowed **__to exist! Now I want you to stand up, and I want you to __**face **__that darkness, do you understand me?! GET UP! GET OFF YOUR ASS AND __**FIGHT**__, YOU COWARD!_

He trembled from head to toe. His spine quivered. The darkness pressed in all around him, smothering him, choking him. Fraye and the Hulk continued to battle ferociously… neither of them seemed human any more, just… animal. Primal. They had become the embodiment of all animalistic instinct. And then there was Loki, who had been reduced to only one instinct as well; one of pure, untouched, untainted _terror. _Unable to move beneath the crushing weight of his own dread, unable to breathe, to think…

_Are you a man? _I demanded of Loki, my mental voice a horrible, dangerous snarl. _Are you a __**man, **__dammit? _My hands clenched in fists at my side, the glow starting to flare up again as my anger battled fiercely with his fear. _Or are you a __**monster?!**_

His heartbeat quickened. The trembling got worse. But, very, very slowly, he pulled himself up to his feet, staring into the darkness… he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath… he had so little power left, so little magic that he could use… But that didn't matter. Not anymore.

Focusing himself carefully, he flicked out a hand; immediately, fire burst into life on his fingertips. It was a weak, small, pathetic flame… but it was light. And light was all he needed; it sent shadows flickering across the room, and his eyes grew sharper, more deadly.

He didn't say anything to me. But I felt unbearably smug as I nodded once, pulling myself up from my knees, back to my feet. _Good. Now let's __**do this. **_

He nodded in return, keeping his eyes locked on the fire in his palm. I'd forgotten that he could do that; it was useless as an offensive weapon, after all. I pushed the thoughts aside. We had a plan. We were going to stick to that plan.

One way or another, Loki was getting out of that darkness.

I looked to the other Avengers; those who were not advancing on Fraye and the Hulk were looking at me worriedly. I waved them off and started towards the fight as well, throwing out my hands at my sides; the bubble formed around me, wrapping itself around my skin. Loki kept his eyes on the flames, kept his thoughts away from the darkness that surrounded him. Kept his focus on the light.

Fraye did not see us, did not even glance to us. _Her_ focus was on the Hulk; as sweat ran down the side of her face, she threw the shadows at him, again, and again, and one more time and _again._ Each strike seemed stronger and sharper than the last, fiercer than anything else… they cut and slashed at the green monster, tore and clawed their way towards him, striking the same spot on his chest over and over again until…

Until…

Every one of the Avengers froze in their tracks. It did not matter what we had been doing before. In that second, we all stopped advancing, stopped moving, stopped breathing. Something dark green, so dark that it was nearly black, started to trickle down the Hulk's chest… a single droplet of…

"Is that… Is that _blood?_" Tony asked the question for all of us. I gaped. No. Ok, just _no._ That was _not _possible, that _never _happened, the Hulk did _not _bleed. Not once, not _ever. _He was… he was unbeatable, undefeatable, indestructible.

And if she could destroy the indestructible…

The Hulk didn't seem to care about the injury; in fact, the sight of his own blood just seemed to piss him off even more. He flung himself towards Fraye with a guttural sound, something that came deep from within the core of his body… But seeing the blood, she danced back, a leisurely, catlike smile on her face.

"Now that's interesting," She mused quietly. "Perhaps there's no hope after all."

The Hulk charged towards her, but Fraye, it seemed, had what she needed. She turned to me, gave me a final little wink that sent shivers through me, then pulled her hands together; the shadows closed around her like curtains, swirling about in tones of black, smothering all trace of the nightmare creature… then, just as suddenly, they vaporized into nothingness, leaving only empty space behind. No Fraye, no darkness… just… _nothing._

The world fell silent. I found that I was still walking forwards, my footsteps the only sound in the abruptly empty world. That is, it _was _the only sound: until the Hulk freaked out, letting out another loud growl and charging forwards, towards where Fraye had vanished. I managed to grab his hand quickly-my whole hand barely fit around his pinky- and pull him back. Well, not exactly _pull him back,_ but my unexpected weight made him turn around. His other hand clenched in a fist as he got ready to pound me into pulp, but I raised my hands quickly, surrendering, and he seemed to recognize at the last second that I was one of the 'good guys'.

"It's over, big guy," I said slowly. "She's gone."

Hulk's face twisted, and he turned away again, lips curled back from his teeth as he growled. His hand suddenly raised to the injury on his chest; he touched it gently, then looked at the blood on his fingers; his eyes turned ever darker. I took a step back. My last encounter with big, green, and muscle-y had left me a lot worse for the wear; and, as other circumstances had gotten in the way, he'd never actually finished beating me. That was the kind of thing that he didn't tend to forget lightly, I was told.

Still… I dreaded to think of what that wound would translate to when he morphed back into Banner… I carefully stepped up and ran my fingers along the cut. It was tiny, barely anything, compared to his sheer mass… but Banner was so much smaller; it would be a lot bigger on him… If that was even how it worked…

The Hulk pushed me aside; yeah, he wasn't tolerating that. He glared at me, and I skittered backwards quickly, keeping my bubble flared in case he decided that right now would be a good time to finish our little grudge match. I looked back to the other Avengers as the Hulk closed his eyes, letting out a frustrated breath… he did _not _like being beaten.

"Hey." I gently nudged him-because I have a death wish- and Loki winced, readying himself for another battle. Hulk looked to me, and I smiled a little. "You're still the strongest."

He didn't acknowledge that. He just turned away and went off in another direction; I was sure he'd calm down soon enough, but I gave Clint a look, and he nodded and followed Big Green off, just in case. He tossed me something on the way; a small, metal device. A headset; obviously, he wanted us to keep in contact in case something went wrong with Hulk. And he wanted to keep up with whatever the other said about Fraye's 'sudden betrayal'. I caught the headset and, letting the bubble die around me, put it in my ear. I didn't ask when Clint had gotten it; I'd learned long ago to not question the things that the spies did. I rarely liked the answers.

I turned to the other Avengers; all standing on the ground now, some with their hands on their knees, trying to recover. They didn't look as exhausted as I was, but they still looked like crap.

"So… What the hell was that?" Tony again asked what everyone was thinking. Except for one thing; _I_ wasn't thinking it. I was thinking about how I could bring up the fact that Loki knew about Fraye without the others getting too suspicious of me. My mind switched gears, battle tactics changing, preparing for a different form of war.

Loki's mind switched gears with mine, focusing on the matter at hand. The flames died from his fingers as he finally realized that the light in his cell had come on again; he was a fair distance away from it, having run into the darkness, but now he crossed back over to it; the relief he felt when he was standing beneath the grey light again was almost palpable.

"That… was Fraye," Natasha said, trying to breathe. "Apparently."

"The real her," I confirmed, falling down on my butt on the concrete. I didn't care about standing up and staying 'dignified'; I was hurting all over, from head to toe just… aching. I buried my face in my hands and groaned aloud. "I… I can't believe it."

The lie tasted sour on my tongue. But it was part of the plan. And we couldn't deviate from the plan. Now was our chance. Now might be our _only _chance.

"How did she… I mean, with the shadows…?" Tony's face plate had lifted up, and he looked… confused. "I mean… _what _is she?"

Thor shook his head very, very slowly. "In all of my travels of the nine realms… never have I seen a creature like that."

_Aaannnddd, thank you, Thor! _ I celebrated inwardly. _Huston, we have opportunity!_

Loki ignored this as I made my eyes go blank for a moment. I was fairly well practiced with such things; it was almost stupidly easy to make it look as though I was speaking with Loki; or perhaps questioning him. Then, after a moment, and once I was certain that at least a few of the Avengers had noticed my empty stare, I hissed out, "Son of a _bitch!_"

That got everyone's attention perfectly. They all looked to me as I ran my hands down my face in false exasperation. I groaned again, as though in absolute disbelief. As they gave me questioning stares, I grumbled against my hands, "_I _have."

"What?" Natasha asked. "How?"

I pulled myself to my feet unwillingly "Loki," I snarled out the word as though it were a curse. Everyone stiffened at the Trickster's name, and, with pure fire in my eyes, I turned around and started trudging towards the Tower. "Come on. We're gonna need the Tesseract."

* * *

**A/N: Before anyone asks, a Frost Giant's blood **_**is **_**blue; at least from what I can tell from the movie. :) As for the Hulk's… I have no clue. I don't remember him ever bleeding. O_o Then again I have only seen the Hulk movie once…**

**And I call myself a Marvel fan… I'm so ashamed…**

**So if anyone knows the real color (movie-verse, not comic-verse please, there are too many conflicting comic storylines to ever judge what is 'canon') let me know, and I'll fix it. :) **

**Also, as you can probably tell, this is going to have a **_**lot **_**more action than the previous one. Why? Because I can. And because it fits Fraye's personality to have a lot of weird crazy battles n'stuff. Unfortunately, fight scenes aren't my forte; which is part of the reason why I decided to write so many in this. Practice, practice, practice, right? **

**Another reason why this has a lot of action while the first one had less: in the first one, I was still trying to keep Natalie from becoming a 'Superhero'. That was why I'd given her a more defensive 'ability'; and the only reason I even gave her that was so that it would harder for Loki to kill her when she pushed his buttons. But then Natalie laughed at me, and was like, "Psh, please, I do what I want." **

**:( My characters are mean to me…**

**So, anyway, stuff. Hope you enjoyed, please review! **


	6. All the Worlds Are a Stage

**A/N: I know, I know, I'm late. Sorry. This was… ugh. Life is hectic right now, doesn't look like it'll get any less hectic. Next week will probably be late, too.**

**Ok! As of Iron Man 3 (which I saw the day it came out, [and two times after that] thank you very much), this is officially, entirely AU. Whatever happens in any of the movies after the Avengers… **_**didn't **_**happen here (or in/before the first book). Though I may-or may not- reference the occasional thing here and there. (SPOILERS. For example, Tony's anxiety attacks, the Wing Chun dummy he practiced with [for like three seconds ha but I was very happy to see it. :P] Bruce's 'therapy session', etc, etc. END SPOILERS.) **

**Also, a few warnings: first, there will be a few ships from now on (Pepperony, Thorane, Clintasha), but that will mostly be minor, background stuff. (Except Clintasha. There will probably be quite a bit of Clintasha. Because… well, do I really need a reason? :P) **

**Second: Clint is going to be a **_**bit **_**out of character for a while. **_**However! **_**There is a valid reason for that, so don't freak out on me. :) **

* * *

"Just give me a few minutes alone with him," I said, trying to sound reassuring. It wasn't working. The Avengers- even the bandaged Banner- were pissed.

"No way, no how, Pizza Girl." That was Tony; fire sparked in his eyes. "If he knows something about Fraye, then he's going to tell us. One way or another."

I scowled as I pushed him back a touch. "He's not going to listen to you. And he's not going to tell us anything that he doesn't want to. He has information about Fraye that _we _don't; he's got extreme leverage and he _knows it. _He's not going to give that up _lightly."_

"I don't plan on doing anything _lightly_," Clint growled, tightening the head of one of his arrows. I stood in front of Loki's prison door, arms folded, brooking no debate. I was sure that I looked pretty weak and pathetic, the college student standing in front of all of those superheroes, blocking their way… but I stood my ground nonetheless.

"You're not going to beat it out of him. Hell, _I _couldn't beat it out of him." I rapped my knuckles on my forehead. "He's keeping this close to him, keeping it secret; I don't know how, and I don't know _why, _but I know that he _is. _And if he's pushed too far, we're gonna lose him completely."

"Fine by me," Clint answered without pause, without hesitation. My eyes narrowed.

"Yeah? Well, what happens when he goes insane, huh? What happens when Loki loses his mind, while still in _mine? _What then?"

He glared in the opposite direction. I kept my hands up peaceably, trying to keep this whole situation under control. "Look. Fraye just made the _Hulk _bleed. The _Hulk. Bleed. _Actual _blood." _I gestured to the door behind me. "Loki's kinda the lesser of two evils, here."

"But still evil," Tony cut in.

"Maybe," I answered with a shrug. "But do you have a _better _idea?"

"If we can't push him mentally," Clint tried, "Then what about physically?"

Loki flinched. My teeth clenched. He'd been tortured enough for one lifetime, thank you very much. I saw now why he'd never been afraid of being captured by Fury, back in the old days, back when I hadn't even been around; because what could Fury do to him, that Fraye had not already done a thousand times over?

I shifted my weight, planting myself firmly before the door. "Oh, yeah, Clint," I said, biting out the sarcasm-coated words. "That's a real great plan. You got a knife? Ok, cool, I'll just stab myself in the arm a few times, we'll have exactly the same result. Loki won't talk, and we'll both be in excruciating agony. You're a real freaking genius."

"You _know _that he'll ask to be freed." Clint ignored my sardonic tone. "And that is something that we absolutely _can not _do. No matter what."

I shrugged. "People in prisons cut deals all the time; get a lesser sentence, better living conditions, whatever. What makes this any different?"

The others grumbled, clearly unhappy. Thor was watching events unfold in silence, seeming carefully neutral towards the whole thing. I tried again. "Look. I can _do _this. We can figure something out that works for everyone, ok, I'm sure of it."

"You'd better be right, Frost," Clint said dangerously, but he stepped back.

"I_ am _right, Barton," I shot back. "Trust me for once, will you?"

The others muttered and glared, but I turned my back on them. I paused before the door.

_Ready?_

_But of course, _came the lofty reply.

I wrestled with a smile; I could show no signs of happiness about this. But it was still good to have him back to his usual, irritating, arrogant self. I pushed the doors open, walking into the darkness… I kept walking, over to where I knew the grey light was. I took a deep breath just before I stepped into visibility. _Show time._

Loki was sitting on the floor, as usual, his legs crossed and his eyes closed, an expression of cold detachment on his face. The instant I stepped into the light, however, a small, careful smirk began to play across his features. He looked unbearably smug about the whole thing; he certainly played his part well.

"Greetings, Miss Frost," he said airily. It wasn't hard for him to pretend to be a condescending a-hole.

"Cut the crap, Loki," I growled. It wasn't hard for _me _to pretend to be angry. I was already angry, even if I was directing it at the wrong person; or pretending to. I folded my arms over my chest. "You know why I'm here. What's it going to take to get you to cooperate?"

His eyes opened. As usual, I was astounded by how freaking _green _those suckers were. I buried that, however, keeping my eyes sharp and fierce. We were playing a game, acting out our seperate parts to perfection. We could not slip, could not fail. If Heimdal was watching this, or the Avengers were listening in…

Loki sat back a little, looking up to me. "A subject should never stand above her king," he whispered softly, gesturing for me to sit.

"Tough cookies." Ok, that was even easier to react to.

He gave a soft little laugh, closing his eyes again. He did absolutely nothing, sat perfectly still; he did this for so long that finally, cursing quietly, I sat down across from him. "You know, when you think you have an advantage over someone, your dirtbag-o-meter just goes off the _scale_."

His eyes opened again, and he smiled dangerously. _Good,_ he approved silently in my head. _You sound like yourself._

_Oh, yes, I'm really going to botch up acting like myself. I'm just that bad of an actress._

_I had wondered. _

These thoughts passed through our minds in a matter of seconds; there was no noticeable pause in our vocalized conversation as Loki folded his hands together, his long, thin fingers interlacing.

"So the monster bleeds," he said, very, very softly. His eyes were distant, recalling the sight that had so unnerved the both myself and the Avengers; the sight of dark green drizzling from a wound on the Hulk's chest. "Interesting."

I ground my teeth together. "Just tell me what you want." As his eyes twinkled mischievously, I growled, "And yes. Your freedom _is _out of the question."

He sat back, spreading his palms out in front of him, placating. "Just a thought," he said, oh-so-innocently. "But my freedom matters little, and my life even less, should Fraye choose to stand against me."

_Yikes, man. You're giving away a lot, here._ I tried not to bite my lip, tried to show no sign of my inward conversation as I kept track of the one outside my head. Instead, I lifted my eyebrows in surprise. _How are we explaining away the fact that you know Fraye, anyway?_

_If we must, we shall tell the Avengers that I encountered her in my exile; a truth within a lie. We shall mention nothing of the months in which she held me prisoner. _

_Agreed. _My eyes narrowed. "So we have a common enemy, here."

"It would seem so," he agreed, contemplative.

"So why won't you help us?" I demanded. "If she's a threat to you, it would be in your best interests to give us whatever we needed."

"Perhaps," he pretended to admit. "However, I now have very little left to lose, Miss Frost. And everything to gain."

"So what are you thinking?" I asked, cutting to the heart of the matter, pulling no punches. This was typical of me; I didn't like to arrive at conclusions in roundabout ways. I wanted a person to say things straight; something that was difficult, when the person in question was the Norse god of Mischief.

He smiled again. "As you pointed out, we have a common enemy in Fraye. She is far more dangerous than your dull, mortal mind could even begin to comprehend; and I will not wait idly by while she destroys first the Avengers, then Midgard, and then Asgard and myself." A spark of something like fury flashed in his eyes. "So my bargain is this: I will give you the information you seek…" His head tilted down, his eyes becoming more intense. "If you release me-" As I looked ready to protest, he held up a hand, quickly, shutting me up. "Just long enough to fight Fraye beside you."

My mouth clamped shut. I forced a puzzled look onto my face. "You… You want to… fight _with _us?"

When he did not respond, my eyes narrowed in suspicion. "_Why?_ Why _us?_"

He held out his palms again, half-shrugging. "The enemy of my enemy, Miss Frost. I am not going to die caged in this cell like an animal."

I considered that for a long moment, gnawing on the inside of my lip, pretending to digest this new offer. After a very long time, I sighed heavily. "You're not going to give up on this, are you?"

He half-smirked. "It is unlikely."

"Fine. Just… Fine. I'll talk to the Avengers about it." I glared at him. "But I'm making no promises, got it?"

The small smirk now grew. "It is not merely _my_ life on the line, Lady Frost." He said in a chilling, nigh prophetic whisper. "Do as you wish."

I gave him a scowl and stood, brushing myself off. I saw, from his eyes, how I looked; and it was actually a lot worse than I'd thought. My already light-ish brown hair was made even lighter with a coating of dust, dirt and grimed smeared everywhere across my skin, with a few would-be bruises were scattered about as well. The battle with Fraye had taken its toll; I looked like I'd been in a battlefield, despite the lack of blood. I tried to brush off as much as I could of the dust, but it proved impossible, and I gave up eventually. I turned away from him, perfectly intent on giving him a bit of the silent treatment, when his ever-gentle voice stopped me.

"Oh, and Frost?"

I turned, looking back to him, my outward face hostilely curious. Inwardly, I frowned; we'd taken care of everything, hadn't we? There was nothing else to discuss, really, especially as this was all an act, with no real purpose other than a failsafe…

I did not like the glint in his eye as he said, "If you wish for me to help you, then I would ask one more thing." Again, he sat back, his spine rigid… but after a moment, he unfolded his legs and stood, his every movement graceful and swift. My frown finally made it to my face; what else would he want? We'd already covered everything, hadn't we?

The twinkle in his eye actually seemed to dance as he stood a little taller. "I want you to kneel."

_Son of a __**bitch**__._

My hands clenched in fists. My teeth ground together. This was just playing dirty. This went way past mischief and trickery and went straight for playing _dirty. _ I cussed him out in my head for a long time, throwing out every foul word I knew, in every language possible. English, Spanish, Danish, Asgardian, a little bit of French and some German… everything I'd ever learned in my entire life, I listed them off in a rant before finally saying in a tone that would not be debated, _**No.**_

He just continued to smile blissfully… because of course I couldn't refuse. Heimdal, after all, could be watching. If I didn't do this, then the Avengers could have an excuse to not allow Loki out, to leave him inside his cell… and, as tempting as that was right now, I knew that we needed him. I knew that, if we wanted to stand against Fraye, we would need everything and everyone we could get.

_I hate your Asgardian guts. _

"I'm waiting, Frost." He looked way too smug. _Waaayyyy _too smug. I wanted to wipe that stupid little grin off of his stupid little face, then beat the living crap outta him just for the hell of it. "I will not wait forever."

"It's not happening. No. N-O spells _no._ No way. Never. Never ever ever." The words streamed out of me in an angry torrent. Louder, fiercer ones raged off in my head.

"Really?" That twinkle kept dancing. My teeth kept grinding together; so fiercely that I thought I heard something crack. "Such a shame. Midgard could be beautiful from time to time." He shook his head back and forth, clicking his tongue in disappointment. "What a pity it will be, to see Fraye lay waste to such a _lovely_ world."

_She can have it. She can have the whole damn planet. I don't care. I'm not kneeling to you. Not now. Not ever._

_Aren't you?_

I folded my arms over my chest and turned away from him, stubborn as always. _No. I'm not._

He chuckled quietly and stood back, waiting me out. Well, he could wait forever. I wasn't going to do it. I jutted out my chin in defiance. It wasn't happening.

After a very, very long moment, Loki seemed to recognize that; but he did not say anything. _You need me as much as I need you, _I growled at him. _You're not going to make me do this._

_Oh, but I am. _

_Oh, but you're not._

_Kneel._

_Never._

_**Kneel.**_

_Nope!_

_You know you must. The Avengers will not consent to such a blow against their pride if you do not do the same._

_They might._

_And I will not fight beside you if you do not._

_Still not happening._

He chuckled softly. "So you would sentence your entire world to die, simply for the sake of your own pride? How very arrogant of you. How very…" he lingered over the word, smiling as he said it. "_Monstrous._"

The word stung, as it always stung. But I ignored the pinch of pain behind my ribs and snorted. "It's not _my _arrogance and pride that needs to be taken down a notch, pal."

"I merely wish to see you put in your rightful place, Miss Frost," he said coolly. "_I _am not the arrogant one, the mortal thinking that I stand on equal footing with the King."

"I would actually, truthfully, literally rather _die _then reinforce that notion of yours." I glowered at him, folding my arms over my chest, my hands still in tight fists.

"But would you sentence your entire planet to that same fate?"

"Probably."

He shrugged. It was the most mild, uncaring of gestures. "Very well. Keep that in mind when the shadows cut the Earth in two."

I fumed, stamping out into the darkness, and throwing a little hissy fit in the dark, not quite leaving the cell, not yet. I couldn't go out there without a deal. No kneeling, no deal. But Loki saw how determined I was not to let that happen… and he still desperately wanted to get out of this prison, still did not wish to die in there, in the dark and the cold…

I took a long moment and a lot of deep breaths before I returned to the light; Loki was waiting for me, a smirk still on his face. That little gesture almost made me turn around right then and there, but I managed to keep my feet rooted to the spot. It took me a long time before I could move, before the fury that burned me up inside would relinquish me enough to do what I had to.

Finally, carefully, and completely stiff, I half-bowed. "Your freaking _majesty,_" I snarled the words out, each one black and bitter.

Loki's lip twitched upwards, but instead of allowing the smile to come to fruition, he sighed theatrically. "I suppose that will suffice…" A haughty sniff punctuated his sentence before he added, "For now."

My eyes narrowed dangerously, and he waved me off with an indifferent hand. "You are dismissed."

_I am going to kill you. Slowly. Brutally. There will be fire ants involved._

He just looked away, with the air of a King, as I whirled around and stalked towards the doors.

* * *

"As usual, our answer is unequivocally, irrevocably _no._" Tony leaned back in his chair- a very strange sight, considering the ornate nature of the table and the furniture around it- and looked around. "So. Any other ideas?"

I gave him a glare. "Look, pal, I freaking _bowed _to get this deal. The least _you _could do is _consider _it."

"Why does he believe Fraye to be such a threat?" Thor asked quietly, thoughtfully. "It is… unlike my brother, to worry over a threat to his foes."

"But it's _not _unlike him to want to fight," I cut in. "And it's _not just _us." The others looked at me, curiously, and I realized I'd left out a very important detail. I leaned forwards on my arm. "From the little that I've managed to get from Loki's thoughts- and that's not much, let me tell you- Fraye is more than just another enemy. She threatens not only the Avengers, but the Earth itself. And once she's finished with Earth, she's moving on to Asgard, then Jotunheim… she'll probably wipe out all of the nine realms before she's finished." The others looked at me, surprised. "She's a _Planet-Killer. _A destroyer of worlds. She's definitely a force to be reckoned with, and right now, we could use all the help we can get."

"The armies of Asgard are willing to face any potential threat," Thor started, but I cut him off again.

"The armies of Asgard? Hello?" I gestured to Banner. "Am I the only one who remembers that we have our own personal army right here at this table? The only one who remembers that she made him _bleed?_"

The others frowned. After a moment, Clint spoke up.

"We can't trust him, Natalie. If we let him out for even a second… and if Fraye is as dangerous as he thinks she is… Then he's not going to stay and fight. He's going to run."

"Run where? _How?"_ I snorted. "The Tesseract? We can keep that out of his reach. I'd know the instant he decided to snatch it, and we could stop him. He's not leaving the planet any other way; and that's exactly what he'd need to do. _Leave the planet._ Beyond that, it's not like he _could._" I gestured to myself with one hand. "You know me. There's no way that I'm running from this. He'd have to drag me off-planet, kicking and screaming. And he couldn't stand to do even that; it would hurt me too much, knowing that I wasn't fighting for my world, knowing that it could be destroyed without me there. Anything that hurts me, hurts him."

I gave them all a dark, even look, meeting everyone's eyes. "You _know_ this."

Everyone was silent for a moment. Then, Thor spoke up, "She speaks truly. My brother is many things, but he is not a coward. If he says he will fight beside us, then he will fight beside us."

"Yeah, then stab us in the back once we look away," Clint retorted, shaking his head. "We can't risk it."

"Why not? We're all dead, anyway." That was me again.

Tony glanced to Steve, who had been strangely quiet the whole time. "Cap? What do you think?"

Rogers hesitated. Then, very slowly, "If Fraye is so powerful, then she would have made a dent in other worlds, wouldn't she? Wouldn't there be other people on other planets who might be willing to cooperate? People from the other nine realms who might know more than we do?"

I pretended to phase out for a second, as though discussing things with and/or interrogating the Trickster for any information that might answer the Captain's question. Not that I didn't know already.

Loki saw the necessity in what I wanted to say and did not question it, but he did not speak to me, either. That was ok. I was too mad to speak to him, anyway. "Jotunheim," I answered Steve after a moment. "Fraye is a Jotun legend." I shook my head out. "But they wouldn't help us, not really. They might have limited information, but they would not be willing to speak of it. On Jotunheim, she is so feared that they will not even say her name out loud. Even if we could talk to them face to face- and, given the current state of their politics with Asgard, that's doubtful- they wouldn't give us much. And they certainly wouldn't fight with us."

There was silence for a beat. Then, Thor spoke up again. "It pains me to admit that I do not trust my brother." He swallowed, and I winced. Yeah, it pained Loki, too. Not that he'd ever admit it. "But I do trust Natalie. And if she says that he will not betray us, then he will not betray us."

My face went all hot. At first, pride swelled in my chest, but that was soon beaten down by bitter, ugly shame. Thor was vouching for my honor, here, and I was lying through my teeth. I'd been lying since the beginning. Oh, I trusted that Loki would not do anything stupid once he got out of prison; he knew better than that by now. But still. I had known about Fraye almost since the beginning. I'd been working towards this outcome for a very long time now. I was still just a liar.

"Thank you, Thor," I said, and despite my inner shame, I tried to sound vindicated and a little bit smug. I think I succeeded.

Tony shook his head back and forth. "There has to be a better way."

"There isn't. Believe me." I tried to look exhausted, exasperated. Not hard to do.

"Even if _we _agreed, there's no guarantee that _Odin _will," Natasha pointed out; she'd been fairly quiet throughout the meeting, taking everything in, calculatingly silent.

It was true, though. Odin was another major hurdle. "Let us handle that," I said, gesturing with my thumb to me and Thor. He nodded in agreement.

"No. No, this is insane." Tony placed his hands on the table. "We are _not _letting that _maniac _run loose."

"_Loose?_" I asked, incredulous. "Face it, Stark, he'd probably be more of a prisoner around us than he is in there. Not only does he have _me _in his head, keeping him from doing anything dumb, but he's also got a nice big, green, leash that'll toss him about a few times if he gets out of line." I glanced to Banner. "No offense, doc."

"None taken." He, too, had been bizarrely quiet this whole time.

"Not to mention all of _you,_" I added, gesturing to the entire table. "There isn't a person here who hasn't smacked him in the face once or twice, who hasn't beaten him in one way or another." I had to add that 'one way or another' part; Natasha never really 'beat' him, not physically, but she'd definitely outwitted him. And that was hard to do.

"What's he going to do?" I concluded. "Irritate us to death? He's been trying to do that to me for the past year, and I'm still standing."

More frowns. More discontented muttering. "How does he even know about her, anyway?" Clint cut in, changing the subject. "How does he know so much about her?"

I saw what he was really asking: _Why does he want to fight her so badly? What happened in their last encounter that made him so desperate to meet her face-to-face?_

I went with our cover story, knowing that it was weak, but Loki went ahead with his own -suddenly separate-plans, anyway, hijacking my voice _again._ "When he was in exile. After his fall from the Bifrost. He went out scouting different worlds; found the Tesseract, but needed an army. He found Fraye instead." My eyes turned dark as the words kept coming. "She beat him once before. As you can imagine, he does not take defeat well."

"So why didn't he tell us about Fraye before?" Natasha asked, frowning. "He knew she was here. He could have warned us. We could have stopped her."

"And how would he have recognized her?" My hands were clenched in fists under the table. My words were now my own, but I still resented Loki making me say what he wanted me to. "She was a child, remember? The way she presented herself to us is not the way she really is."

The others exchanged looks. I waited in silence for a moment before I asked, "Bruce? What do you think?"

The Hulk-Man hadn't really spoken since we'd arrived, and now he folded his hands in front of him, clearly unwilling to voice an opinion. But slowly, carefully, after a quiet sigh, he answered, "I think you're right. This is currently our best option."

"_What?"_ Tony went nuts. "Bruce, you can not be serious!"

Banner shrugged mildly. "Why not? Loki wants the Earth for himself, doesn't he? Wants _Asgard _for himself? Why wouldn't he fight to keep it from being destroyed?"

_That_ was something that I hadn't even considered. Mostly because Loki _couldn't _take over Earth anymore; that was the whole point in me keeping our link intact. But the Avengers would always think that he was plotting, planning, trying to take over again. Of course they would. Why hadn't I thought of that before?

"And if we defeat Fraye? What then? You think he's just going to go back into prison?" Clint demanded.

"He'll have to," Banner said, gesturing to me. "She won't let him do anything else."

"Exactly." I said with a nod.

"No. No, this is crazy," Clint shook his head back and forth fiercely… Natasha placed a careful hand on his arm, and he looked to her; the two shared a long, weighted glance. I was surprised by how much seemed to pass between the two in that one look, how the two seemed to recognize exactly what the other was thinking without ever having to speak aloud. A different form of telepathy, almost.

_The bond forged by battle, _Loki noted. I ignored this; I was still mad at him. Pompous, arrogant little dirt bag.

Steve sighed heavily. "All right. If Odin agrees, then so will I."

"Agreed," Natasha said, looking away from Clint at last, to Steve instead. "We have no other choice."

Tony groaned, burying his face in his hands before slamming them onto the table. "Fine! But I reserve the right to say 'I told you so' when this all goes horribly wrong!"

Clint looked absolutely furious, but he nodded once, curtly. I tried not to put all of my relief into one sigh, but it was nigh impossible. It was happening. I was going to get Loki out of that cage. It had taken so many lies, so many deceptions… but now it was finally _happening…_

"So we're agreed," I said with a nod. Everyone else nodded back, most very reluctantly. Thor stood and gestured for me to do the same; I obeyed. "Where are you going?" Banner asked.

"To see Odin," I answered quickly.

"What, _now?_" Tony asked, eyebrows shooting up.

"You really think we should wait?" I asked. "The longer we wait, the longer Fraye will have to prepare another strike against us." I looked around at them all. "You saw the look on her face. She wasn't retreating, wasn't running. She wasn't scared in the slightest. She got what she wanted for now, but she's going to come back. And we need to be ready for her when she does."

The others didn't protest. I started towards the door. "Come on, Thunder-Boy. Let's do this thing."

* * *

As usual, Thor saw Odin before I did and explained the situation beforehand, so that, by the time I got inside, he knew everything. And I do mean _everything._

As Thor came back to retrieve me from where I waited outside the door, he gestured for me to go inside. I did so, but stopped when I realized that Thor was closing the door behind me without following. I placed my hand on the door, stopping it from shutting. "What gives?"

"He wishes to speak with you alone," Thor answered. I lifted my eyebrows, but allowed him to close the door behind him. I walked down the short hallway to the even more massive, ornate doors and pushed my way inside.

Odin's good eye zeroed in on me the instant I entered the room, but there was someone else in there that I did not expect; his wife, Frigga. Thor's and Loki's mother. I recognized the kind face and fancy-pants hair from both Loki's memories and the few times that I had seen her. She sat by Odin's side, as tall and proud as any other royal I'd met, a calm serene power in the air about her.

I clasped my hands behind my back to hide the shaking. I was a little more used to talking to the big boss man by now, but not entirely. Not yet. All of these crazy Asgardians just seemed to ooze power, to radiate strength and authority. And then there was me, with nothing but an indestructible bubble to put me on par with these guys… take that away, and I was less than nothing.

I cleared my throat, swallowing. "You wanted to see me?" I asked, trying not to mince words. I wanted to get this over with quickly. Loki was getting antsy; now that there was a light at the end of the tunnel, he wanted to get to that light as soon as possible, to run from the prison, the darkness that bound him. Personally, I was thinking about letting him squirm for a while, the little troll. But I couldn't afford to think like that right now.

Odin studied me for a long time, and I did everything in my power not to shift under his gaze. I'd been known to keep perfectly still and stare right into the eyes of anyone who looked at me that suspiciously; particularly when I had nothing to hide. Well, now I _did _have something to hide, but I could absolutely _not _let anyone know that.

He did not mince words, either. His tone loud, full of command, he asked, "There is a threat against Midgard. You believe this threat is great enough to risk releasing my son?"

I stood ever taller, looking him dead in the eye. "It is not just a threat to my world; it is a threat to yours. Fraye is within reach of Asgard; particularly seeing as Thor is on Earth. Seeing him may just bring her to attack here as well." I threw the whole 'Thor' thing in there just in case, trying to keep him off the scent. No one could know that Loki's thoughts had lead Fraye here. No one.

"You did not answer the question," he noted.

I blinked. "Yes. The threat is more than great enough to justify any risk."

"And you believe that you could stop Loki, keep him under control?"

I snorted. "With respect, sir, the instant I think that Loki is 'under control' is the instant that everything goes south. He does what he wants, when he wants, because he wants. No other reason." I crossed my arms, tapping my fingers carefully. "But I am perfectly capable of stopping him, should he do anything outrageously stupid, like try to escape or take over the world or something."

Odin did not react to my views on the situation, nor to the way I voiced them. He rarely did. He was pretty used to me and my weird mortal speech by now.

"How long has he been planning this?"

I felt ice run through my veins, terror making my heart skip a beat, despite how I kept my face perfectly composed. I felt like a deer caught in the headlights. Loki was quick to step in.

_He knows nothing of you. _He reassured me. _He simply suspects me. _

_In case you've forgotten: I __**am **__you!_

_And that is precisely why he is directing the question to you, and not my brother. _

I swallowed and feigned ignorance to buy myself time. "I'm sorry?"

"How long has Loki been planning this?"

I lifted both eyebrows in false surprise. "He hasn't. He didn't even know that Fraye was a threat until we did."

Odin gave me a look. It was very clear that he did not believe me; that much was obvious just from one glance. But I stood my ground anyway; it was my story, and I was sticking to it. His eyes darkened. For a long time, neither of us said a word, each waiting the other out.

Finally, I sighed. "Look. You've known me for…what? More than a year now?" I dropped my arms to my sides, holding my hands out to him, keeping them low. "In all that time, have I _ever _given you reason to distrust me?"

He said nothing for a long moment. But I felt something stinging at my eyes, and suddenly, the words were out before I could stop them. "I mean… I've given up everything. Every chance of a normal life. I gave up my home, my life, and my _family, _for you and yours. I come here every week just to talk it out with a man who would otherwise spend his days in darkness." I shook my head slowly. "Don't you understand? I didn't do that just for Loki. I did that for _Earth._ For _you_ and _Thor _and _Asgard._" I looked up to him, eyes flashing. I couldn't help it. I was finally right about something; and this… this wasn't even a lie. I knew that I was doing the right thing; I just knew that no one else would understand that. And if I had to lie to do the right thing, then lie I would. And I wouldn't _care. _My eyes locked on Odin's one, and I said, firmly, clearly, "I don't think it's too much to ask for you to _trust me._"

There was a long, ringing silence following my words. Even Loki was mildly surprised; he watched Odin's reactions carefully in my head, documenting them, remembering them for later use. I stood as tall as was humanly possible, knowing that I was still so small and diminished against these Asgardians, these powerful creatures… I didn't care, though. I stood beside power every day; it no longer impressed me as much as it probably should.

Finally, Odin ordered one of the guards to his side; he gave a few quiet commands; I saw Frigga smile very, very slightly beside him as I stood tall. When Odin turned back to me, his gaze was very serious. He started walking towards me; I struggled to remain still, to not start fidgeting, to keep my eyes on him as opposed to my feet.

"I am ordering the release of my son, provided he return to his cell immediately following the elimination of this current threat," he said, very clearly; then stopped a few feet away from me. The long, golden staff thingy that signified his leadership clanged against the ground. "And provided that _you _shall take sole responsibility over him."

My eyebrows shot up. Ok. I hadn't seen that coming. Neither had Loki.

He held out a hand; reflexively, I held out my own in response. "Should you accept this role, then you will be appointed as his Keeper." His every word echoed with strong authority. "And you must swear to act solely in the interests of the nine realms; and not yourself, or your charge."

I cleared my throat as I kept my hand out; his hand hovered above the inside of my wrist, but I didn't move my own hand, didn't feel as though I was supposed to. I blinked a few times, taking that in, then, a little too quickly, I breathed, "I swear."

Odin's eye met mine for a long moment… then his fingers landed on my wrist lightly; for a second that felt like an eternity, nothing happened. But then, a burning, searing pain lashed across my wrist, and I cried out in pain, pulling my hand back reflexively, hugging it close to my body. Far away in his cell, the exact same thing was happening to Loki; he sucked in a breath through his teeth, holding his scalding wrist in his ice-cold hand, his freezing fingers doing absolutely nothing to diminish the pain… After a moment, however, the pain died down, and I held my hand tentatively away from my body, looking at it. Loki did the same; and horror filled his thoughts.

I stared at the marking that had appeared on my wrist; a singular band that circled its entirety, comprised of interlocking knots and patterns very much like the ones that decorated the sides of Thor's hammer, that decorated this entire place. I studied it carefully; it had that vaguely _Celtic _look that everything in Asgard seemed to, and was, in all honesty, intensely beautiful. It appeared on my skin as mark, a blemish, a few shades darker than my actual skin… but as I ran my fingers over it, a very faint yellow-gold glow glittered across it, following the path of my fingertips. My heartbeat sped up, my chest tightening, making it harder to breathe…

"Is this… Is this what I think it is?" I asked, torn between awe and horror. Awe that he'd created something that I knew to be this powerful, that he trusted _me, _of all people, to wield it… and horror at the power I now held in my hand. In all honesty, I was a little… _disgusted _by it.

"It is," Odin confirmed in a solemn tone. I managed to tear my eyes away from the band long enough to look at him.

"Oh, no." I started shaking my head back and forth fiercely. "No way. Nuh-uh. Take it off. Take it off right now, I can't do this, I _won't do this._"

"You swore to act in the interests of the nine realms," he reminded me. "Even above the interests of yourself or the prisoner in your care."

"But _this!_" I exclaimed, horror-struck. "It's… no. No, no, no, no."

"You asked for my trust."

"Yeah, trust me to act in everyone's best interests, to kick Loki's butt if he got out of line… but don't trust me as his _master, _don't make him a _slave._"

"The enchantment will not enslave him. Merely…"

"Render him immobile," I cut him off. "Completely and utterly inert, whenever I should chose to make him so. Basically, a walking prison; you're putting him completely at my mercy." I shook my head again. "_I _don't even trust _myself_ with that kind of power. I barely trust myself with the bubble! And I can't even control _that _half of the time! What do you think I'm going to do with _this?" _I held up my arm, gesturing to the band on my wrist. Loki had not said a word since his had appeared alongside mine. He was as horrified as I was, knew exactly why I was reacting in the way I was, even if Odin did not recognize it. I try to be a good person, I really do, I make promises to not cross lines, to not do certain things… but then something inside me will snap, and I'll lose control; I'll get too angry, too furious, and then those lines will be obliterated, all sense of a moral code vanishing… That is the monster within me, and right now I could feel it testing out this new weapon, coiling around it and purring contentedly.

I shook my head a few more times. "At least in our minds, he can _fight,_" I said in a whisper. "We stand on equal ground; that was the whole _point. _We were supposed to stand as _equals. _Neither of us stands above the other, kneels before the other. He can _fight back._ This… This takes his will entirely. He would stand no chance against me."

Odin's gaze had softened very slightly. "If this threat is as formidable as you both claim, then we can afford to take no chances. You are his Keeper. That is your Key." He turned away from me. "I trust that you will use it wisely."

I looked down to the band on my arm. I had very clearly been dismissed. Carefully, I ran my fingertips along the pattern, my throat feeling thick… but I kept my protests silent. They would do me no more good. Feeling something black and gooey inside my hollow chest, I turned away, walking to the door. My footsteps felt leaden, and my eyes kept flicking back to the marking on my wrist… I wished I'd thought to wear long sleeves, so that I could cover it up… and my jacket was back in the Tower, back on Earth…

I made it into the hallway, wishing that Thor was not standing outside there, thinking on how I could keep him from seeing it long enough to get back to Earth and cover it with something or other… Loki was still reeling in my head. Either that or he was pouting; I wasn't exactly sure which.

"Thank you."

I froze, then turned around. Frigga was standing there, in the doorway, the only other person in this empty hall. I frowned as I turned to her, not bothering to cover the markings, as she had already seen… everything.

"For what?" I asked, trying not to sound hostile. Loki had never really had a problem with his mother, despite the fact that she had gone along with his father's lies… An irrational thing, but in the end, that is all love is; irrational.

She held herself with this strange, unnatural grace; so calm and collected… She was no warrior, but she was certainly no weakling, either. Her strength came from the innate power she seemed to carry with her, the power behind her gaze… I swallowed as she answered in a simple, cool voice, "Everything."

She took a few steps towards me. "Thank you, for protecting my son." Loki looked to the ground. "For everything that you have done for him."

I looked down to my wrist, studying the patterns there. She gently wrapped her fingers around my wrist, lifting it up so that she, too, could look at it. Could look at the shackle that bound me and her son together; the first physical evidence that we shared any kind of connection. I let my hand fall limp so that she could do so; her fingers, like Odin's and completely unlike Loki's, were warm.

"You do not trust yourself with such power," She said, and it was not a question. "And yet… I remember a time, when you held the power of life and death in your hands… when you could have killed Loki." I found that I could not meet her gaze as she stared at me, so scrutinizing, so focused… "I almost lost my son; that is not something that I will forget quickly."

I could imagine. Still, I did not look up to her, did not face her. She went on, "But, when you held this power… you chose instead to help him. To save him. After he had taken everything from you."

"I didn't do it for-" I started with the age-old mantra, the same excuse I gave everyone… but as I did so, my gaze went up and met hers, and I found the words dying in my throat. She kept talking as though I hadn't spoken.

"You may not trust yourself with this power, Natalie Frost," She said, her voice very clear as she clasped my hand in both of hers. "But I more than trust you; I _know _that you will not use this power against him, not unless he truly forces your hand." Her eyes stayed on mine. "And for that as well… thank you."

Thanking me for something I hadn't even done yet. I felt my cheeks burn. My eyes flickered down to my shoes, which kicked absently at the floor. "You're… uh… you're welcome… I guess." My voice got steadily quieter and quieter, until I was all but mumbling. She smiled- I could feel the gesture, rather than see it- and squeezed my hand a little tighter before releasing it and turning away; she walked out of the room, leaving me alone again.

Well… I was never 'alone'.

I swallowed carefully as I encircled my wrist with one hand, trying to cover the Key. _Loki…_

_Not a word, mortal._

Yeah. He was definitely threatened. _Loki, I'm not going to use it. You know I won't, you know this is a line I won't cross, not unless…_

_Unless what? _He asked dryly, a smile suddenly appearing on his face… but there was a strange, twisting pain in his heart. _Unless I try to escape? We both know this is futile. But what if I try to kill you? Also futile. But what if I mention April? What if I say something that you do not like? What then? Will you simply let that pass, when you have so much power in your hands?_

_I've done it before, _I protested weakly.

_Forgive me if I can not rely on your sporadic moral victories._

I winced._ Look, you're not exactly Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes, either. I've dealt with you for more than a year now: __**without **__this power. I think I can handle not using it against you __**now.**_

_Liar._

I sighed heavily. I glanced to the door at the end of the hall; where I knew Thor waited for me. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to go out there, didn't want to see him, didn't want to see the Avengers… But I knew that I must.

_Look. I can't promise anything; I'm only human, after all. _

He snorted. I went on, _But as far as I'm concerned, this is only to be used in the unlikely-if not impossible- event that you decide to run, or to go against the interests of the nine realms. I did swear, after all. _

No response. I continued, _This is a __**good **__thing, Loki. We got your father to agree; which I'm pretty surprised happened at all. And really, who would you rather have in control of this thing? The Avengers? __**Thor?**_He glared at the ground at the mention of his brother, a soft, disgusted half-sigh slipping out from him. _Exactly. Face it, Trickster; I might just be a mortal, but at least I'm working in your interests. That has to count for __**something.**_

He closed his eyes for a long moment, thinking, concentrating. This was very much a matter of pride for him; the fact that a mortal wielded enough power to control him, to perhaps make _him _kneel… it was utterly petrifying. But he knew that it was necessary; beyond that, he knew that it was _me. _It was unlikely that I would do something that would hurt him so badly, even if I did have a bit of a problem crossing lines before.

I let him think it out, let him calm down without saying a word. Finally, he nodded slowly. _It seems we have no other choice. _

I nodded back, and we let the subject drop. What else could we do, what else could we say?

I walked from the room, out to where Thor was standing beside the guard the Odin had addressed earlier; obviously the one who was going to see Loki released. Thor gave me a small smile.

"He agreed," he said; not telling me something I didn't know, not asking a question, but just running the fact by me, just in case. I nodded.

"Yup," I said softly, half-shrugging, tucking my hand halfway behind my body. I started walking forwards, trying to get away, trying to keep moving before he caught sight of the Key…

It didn't work.

I suddenly felt Thor's hand on mine, stopping me gently; but I flinched nonetheless. Slowly, guiltily, I turned back to him as he lifted my hand up, examining my wrist. The look on his face as he studied the band was… unfathomable. There was a darkness in his eyes, a deep sadness on his features that Loki refused to see.

Thor looked it over for a very long time, then his eyes flicked upwards and locked on mine. I felt my heart speed up again as he held my wrist up to our eye level, so that we could both see the band that encircled it. He didn't say anything, but his face spoke volumes, questioning the markings, the Key. My throat clogging, I looked at him imploringly.

"Don't tell the Avengers," I pleaded in a small, tinny voice. I didn't take my hand from his. I could see the muscles in his jaw clenching. He did not give me a response; but he let my hand drop, back to my side… I quickly wrapped it in my other one, trying to keep it covered, looking down, almost… ashamed.

After a moment, however, he nodded slowly, then started forwards. I followed him silently, unquestioningly; even as he led us down a path away from the Avengers, away from Loki's prison, I kept my mouth shut.

He lead me towards a separate area of the palace, then vanished into one of the rooms for a moment; I waited outside for just a heartbeat, and then he returned, holding something in his hand.

"It is rare that a Keeper's identity will be made secret," Thor said slowly, taking my hand. "But it is not unheard of."

I lifted a single eyebrow, confused- How often did things like this _happen?_- but again, I didn't question it. He slid something around my wrist; a silver-blue piece of cloth that clung tightly to my skin. The instant Thor lifted his hand off of it, it dissolved into nothingness, while at the same time dissolving into the mark, transforming into the same shade as my skin, making it look smooth and unblemished, hiding the Key completely. Loki's still remained on his wrist, but as his sleeves tended to be fairly long, I did not see this as a problem.

"It will not last forever," Thor warned me. "I would suggest you cover it the moment we arrive back on Earth."

I let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Thor." I fought the urge to hug him, thinking that Loki's pride had been damaged enough for one day. Especially seeing as the day wasn't even over yet.

"Of course," He answered, turning away. We started walking again. "I trust you to make the right decision, Natalie."

And again with the trust. I stifled a sigh as we headed back towards the Avengers. "Well, first thing's first. Before we get Loki out of there…" Thor looked to me, questioning. I ran my hand over my face. "What do we tell Fury?"

* * *

As it turned out, Fury was not the person that I needed to worry about. The Council, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter.

I stood in the darkest, most dauntingly large room of the Helicarrier, glass screens circling the wall before me, faceless figures peering at me, watching me with empty eyes and hollow features. They all seemed to be wearing suits; not that I could really know that for sure, given the way the screens were shadowed, making them into inhuman, impersonal talking heads. I tugged my jacket sleeve downwards nervously, despite how it was currently covering nothing; the Key was still hidden beneath the sleeve that Thor had given me.

Fury stood in the back of the room, wearing his usual black clothes and heavy trench coat that either screamed 'extreme Goth' or 'extreme badass'. The eye patch helped it lean towards the second one.

And then there was me. Jeans, black Pink Floyd T-shirt, ratty sneakers, and dark green jacket. Oh, yes, I looked very professional. In my defense, it was the only outfit I had at the Tower; the only one that was clean and not PJs, that is. And, even more in my defense, I had just gone to Asgard in these clothes, minus the jacket of course. I hadn't really had time to get something better after Fraye had attacked us; and I'd been wearing my pajamas when she'd done that, too. My life sucked like that some times.

But the Asgardians were used to me and my weird mortal clothes by this point; and they expected as much from _all _humans. They might not entirely understand the difference between our formal wear and our normal clothes, between suits and jeans. Just like I used to have a hard time getting the hang of their battle armor and their usual, every-day armored clothing. On Loki, it was pretty freaking obvious; especially with the helmet. But on others, it was a little more subtle.

But here… here they understood that I looked like a rag-tag mess of a college student; and not like the powerful warrior with the telepathic connection to the banished prince that the Asgardians occasionally saw me as. I tried to keep standing tall, but after all of the doubt and suspicion that had been thrown my way today, I was starting to get tired. I couldn't face down many more people.

"So what you're saying is, you wish to bring a war criminal back to this world, under the care of a group of vigilantes, in the hope that he _might _help you stop the criminal acts of a young _child._" One of them said at last. "Am I correct?"

I scowled deeply. Some people just get a kick out of making everything _difficult. _"First, they're not all vigilantes. Three of them-Clint, Natasha, and myself- are all under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s payroll; and thus working for _you._ Second, Fraye is _not _a child. And she's _dangerous. _You've seen pictures, the damage she caused outside of Stark Tower."

"Yes, after she supposedly transformed into a homicidal maniac, capable of destroying all life on this planet." Another one spoke up. "Forgive me, but it all sounds rather far-fetched."

I snorted. "Oh, yes, like our lives are all _so _normal."

"And even if this _was _the case, then why did you not prevent it?" The first speaker questioned me again. "Is that not why you were appointed? To monitor all potential threats among the Avengers?"

Ooh. He got me there. That was, after all, my 'official' duty; keep an eye on the Avengers, write psych profiles, all that crap. But I had a comeback in seconds. "Yes. I'm supposed to keep an eye on the _Avengers. _Not on some random, helpless little girl who comes looking for our help." I shook my head. "And even if I _did _keep an eye on her, Fraye played her part well. She fooled better minds than mine; she fooled _everyone. _Even all of _your _operatives. Barton, Romanov; she had all of us wrapped around her tiny little finger."

_Now_, I was lying. But they didn't seem to notice; I was still a good liar. At least, I was when I was talking to humans.

"And you went to the Asgardians and asked them to release Loki into the Avengers' custody," one of them said, sounding condescendingly disappointed; in that way that made you feel like they were really saying 'how could you do such a terrible, vile thing, you foul, loathsome little insect?' I blew this off and shrugged. He went on, "Under whose authority?"

"The Avengers'. My own. Whatever authority my link with Loki gives me." I tried to look him in the eye; a really difficult thing to do, when there was no face to give me reference. "Take your pick."

"You were not authorized to make this kind of negotiation." This was the second speaker, the woman. "You are not a representative of this world, and not qualified to speak on our behalf."

"I wasn't speaking on _your _behalf." I gave her a look. "And I'm sorry, I'm sorry, hold up. Not _qualified?_ You _really_ wanna _go _there?" Behind me, Fury cleared his throat; I looked to him, and he shot me his patented, _you-would-do-well-to-shut-up-right-now _glare. I turned back to the Council and took a moment to pull myself together again. Finally, in a voice that was hopefully a bit calmer, I continued, "I think, given the unusual circumstances of the situation, you could say that I was qualified enough to discuss the problems with Odin. And he agreed with me; that Loki's release is currently our best option."

"But we do not," the first speaker said, his voice very cold. His faceless figure towered above me, making me feel very small and helpless… I pushed it aside. I was Natalie Frost, dammit. I had an indestructible bubble. Not to mention a _loco _Jotun in my brain. I could handle whatever they threw at me. "We will not allow Loki back onto our planet without answering for his crimes." He concluded.

I looked at him for a long time; the room rang with the finality of his words. Then slowly, carefully, I gave a little smirk that would have made the Norse god of Mischief proud.

"I see," I answered slowly, adjusting my sweater sleeve again, but this time with more purpose. More intent. "Well, it seems we have a problem, here."

Loki saw where this was going. He bit his lip thoughtfully, then decided to allow it. He liked the idea of me taking these fools down a few pegs; and that more than justified the risk of what I was planning to do.

"Because, you see," I cleared my throat, looking up innocently at them all, smiling a bit blissfully. "Like I've mentioned before; _Odin _agrees with _me. _And he has already released Loki Laufeyson into _my _custody. Not the Avengers'; _mine._" I took my sleeve in my fingers and rolled it down with great care, flipping it downwards in much the same fashion that Loki had done, when he first revealed the scars on his arms to me. I ran my fingers along the skin of my arm until I felt the sleeve that Thor had given me, clinging to it tightly… I gripped it and pulled, tearing it off; it tore in half, falling loosely off of my wrist, crumbling into silver-blue dust in my hands. Underneath, the marking showed, plain as day; I ran my fingers along it, and it glowed softly.

"I am Loki's Keeper," I said in a soft voice, but my words were perfectly clear, filled with a quiet authority all my own. I found myself smiling still, a little half-smile that I had always seen on the Trickster's face. "And, well, you see… Odin has already agreed to this, has already placed Loki in my care. That's what this is," I held up my wrist, "The Key. A symbol of my role." I didn't mention its true power; they didn't need to hear about that. This would be enough. This was perfect. "To deny this, to deny Loki entry to this world… well, I'm afraid that would mean that you do not _trust _Odin's judgment; and, by extension, that you do not trust _him._" I lifted both eyebrows. Ok, I could see why Loki did this all the time; spoke with that silver tongue, twisted all logic and reason to his view… it was _way _too much fun, having an argument that no one could refute.

"Something like that… well, it borders on risking an Interplanetary Incident." I tilted my head to the side. "We went to war simply because of _one _Asgardian; I don't think it would be such a brilliant idea to upset an entire _world." _

There was a dark silence following my words. I could feel their furious, disgusted looks, and was suddenly grateful that I couldn't _see _them… but I stayed exactly the way I was nonetheless, tilting my head to one side.

"But, if this is your final decision… I guess I'll just go tell him that we don't want this, then," I said, pulling my sleeve back down over the band. I gave them each a nod in turn and said, "Thank you. For your time."

I started towards the exit; but one of their voices stopped me.

"You are not dismissed, Miss Frost."

A smile stretched across my lips; but I managed to battle it back and plaster a look of complete innocence on my face before I turned to the Council once more. "I'm not?" I asked, fake-surprised. "It seemed to me that your opinions on the matter were fairly clear."

One of them sighed; the woman. "If you have already discussed the matter with Odin, then there is nothing that we can do to stop you." There was a bleakness in her tone that would've worried me a year or so ago. Now it just ticked me off. "But this is not over, Natalie."

"With respect, ma'am, it never is."

That got me even more looks. At least, I assumed it did. "We shall discuss this later," Another confirmed, then leaned back and got ready to cut the video feed. "Let's hope you know what you're doing."

I couldn't stop the smirk. "Always," I answered as I left the room; I heard Fury's footsteps behind me as the screens went black.

"They aren't going to let you forget that," he said as he walked up next to me; neither of us stopped walking.

"Good. Something to look forward to."

"You think this is the best way to stop Fraye?"

"I do."

"Then make sure it's done _quickly_." He turned away and walked in the other direction; I smiled to myself.

_No lines crossed? _I double-checked with Loki. He frowned and did not respond. _They don't know what it is. That's the only reason I showed it to them._

_I am well aware of your reasoning, Frost. _

_Are you mad?_

_No._

_Good. Cause I still am. _I got to the stairs and headed for the docking bay. _I'm not going to let you forget that whole 'kneeling' thing._

_Something to look forward to, then._

I grinned.


	7. The Fellowship of the Freakazoids

**A/N: Okay! I wanted to thank my guest reviewer (Guest) for mentioning P!nk's (w/ Nate Ruess) 'Just Give Me a Reason' in regards to a Loki/Natalie pairing. I'm always happy when I find a song that has even one line that works with my characters; because trying to match the other lines to the characters as well can give me a lot of inspiration. (It's actually probably my main source; So I usually purposefully listen to songs and try to think of them in regards to whatever characters I'm currently working with. Even if I don't get overly inspired, it can sometimes be good for a laugh. :P) **

**I will say that a number of the lines **_**did **_**work for their relationship. I won't say which did and which didn't (spoilers!) but I did want to say thank you, because it did have some good lines; and because it introduced me to a new song, too. :) **

**I will **_**also **_**say this: as of this chapter, I'm unclear on whether or not I will be taking Natalie and Loki in the 'romantic' direction. Basically, I just put the characters in a room together and let them decide. They nudge me in the direction they want to go. So, even though I know I said I wasn't **_**planning **_**on taking them in that direction… well, they might have other ideas. **_**Might. **_

**Anyway. Just a heads up! ;)**

* * *

Well, here I was again. Back on Asgard for the second time that day, standing in front of Loki's prison doors, the Avengers at my side. I pushed the doors open, knowing that all magical barriers against Loki had been released, that he could now step out into the world around us without any interference. I heard Tony's repulsors getting ready to fire, the click of Natasha's gun, the quiet sound of Clint knocking an arrow in his bow.

Sheesh. I tugged on the sleeve of my shirt, covering the Key and looking into the darkness beyond. Inside, I knew, Loki hovered on the edge of the light, watching the darkness tentatively, as though simply by touching it, he could burn.

Steve shifted his shield on his arm. Everyone here was suited up and ready to react; everyone but me and Thor, who stood by my side, his bright blue eyes brooding as he looked into the darkness.

Everyone waited in silence for a long moment… and then the cell was flooded with light; that same pale, grey light that had illuminated that one patch for so long, now spreading to the rest of the cell, showing the path out of the dark; and suddenly, we could all see him, and he us. The darkness no longer stood as a wall in between us; I could see him as plain as day; and not just in my mind, not any longer.

Loki was free.

His eyes took everything in while his face remained immobile; I could detect just the slightest hint of fear; the same expression he had whenever he saw lightning, or heard thunder crackling in the distance… Bracing himself for just the briefest of moments, readying himself for an attack… but then, seeing that we were doing nothing, the smile came back, large and irritating as all hell. Nodding a few times, very, _very _slowly, he clasped his hands behind his back and started walking forwards, walking towards us.

I kept my own face hard, my hands clenched in fists at my sides as he stepped into the light that had just appeared; even as I felt him tense, ever-so-slightly, at the sudden thought that he might be plunged into darkness again. This flinch was not something that was noticeable to the eye, however, and to the Avengers, it merely seemed as though he was being his usual smug, irritating self. Only I knew better; Loki had fooled everyone, even his brother.

Then again, he was a smug, irritating person by nature, anyway. It wasn't such a difficult lie.

As he walked up to us, he casually glanced at the weaponry aimed at him, and at the hammer in Thor's belt. There was no longer anything to block his magical abilities; Loki was at his full power, his full strength… and we all knew it. And, even if we hadn't, he made it perfectly clear with every gesture, every glance.

His eyes met every one of the Avengers', scrutinizing and self-satisfied, before finally landing on me. I was holding the Tesseract in my hands, fitted inside of the glass device with the golden handles, our transport in and out of Asgard; he glanced to it, then met my gaze. His smirk grew as he tilted his head up slightly higher, looking down at me.

"So," he said quietly. "A team, then."

I actually _heard _jaws clench, _heard _hands tightening in fists. Clint drew his arrow back just slightly. I looked at Loki with narrowed eyes.

Carefully, I handed the device out to him. "So it would seem," I said, very coldly. Loki chuckled quietly and took the other end; the Avengers, keeping their eyes on him, each reached forwards and placed their hands on the handles; carefully, I twisted my end…

And, in a flash of blue light, a blurring of all colors… we were back on Earth.

Tony wasted no time stalking back inside the Tower. During my visit with S.H.I.E.L.D., he had informed JARVIS of our 'visitor', in an effort to make sure that the building did not attack him. The rest of us followed Stark, with Loki falling in step with me after I returned the Tesseract to Thor. I was not sure if the others noticed the way the Trickster lingered beside me, letting me lead us forwards; he was, after all, in mildly unfamiliar territory. Just because he had seen this place a thousand times in my memory did not mean that he knew everything about it, did not mean that he had been here before. Though, _technically, _he had been to the Tower before… but not like this. Not under the watch of the Avengers, not with them monitoring his every move.

Tony turned to us the instant we entered the Tower, with all of the Avengers crowded in the doorway. He looked to Loki, his eyes as hard as diamonds.

He jabbed a finger towards the Norse god of Mischief, eyes narrowed. "Top twelve floors, off limits. Floor fourteen, _completely _off limits. Anywhere else," he turned the jabbing finger towards me. "And _she's _with you at all times. And when she's _not _with you, someone else _is._ Clear?"

Loki lifted both eyebrows; with all the casual arrogance of a millionaire tossing a dime to a beggar, he answered, "Perfectly."

"And JARVIS?" Tony added, ignoring Loki's response.

"Yes, Mr. Stark?"

"You are to refer to him as 'puny god' and _nothing _else, am I clear?"

"Of course, Mr. Stark."

"Tony!" I complained.

"End of discussion, Pizza Girl," he answered me, his eyes still steely, his jaw clenched. He whirled around and stalked away, clearly intent on brooding. Loki glanced to me, noting my reaction, but said nothing. The other Avengers went past us, save Clint and Thor, who remained until I started walking again, Loki at my heels.

I suddenly whirled on all three of them, studying Loki intently. "Where the hell does he expect you to _sleep?_" I grumbled, more to myself than anything else. Loki's thoughts questioned the wisdom in reminding Clint that he did, in fact, sleep; neither of us really put it past the Hawk to cover the cameras and slit Loki's throat in the middle of the night. I sighed heavily. Well, it seemed that the two of us were going to be spending a _lot _of time around each other…

"Come on," I muttered discontentedly, gripping Loki's sleeve and dragging him along. He put up with it for only a moment before yanking his hand away and following me in a more dignified manner. Thor and Clint shadowed us for a while, until I gave them both death glares.

"I've _got _this," I hissed at them both. Clint's eyes were harder than Tony's had been, but he backed away quietly. Thor simply looked… concerned. I sighed and repeated, a little more gently, "Seriously. I've got it."

He hesitated, then nodded slowly and turned away. I walked onwards, with Loki at my side… I took him to the elevator, punching in the number; Loki seemed just the slightest shade discombobulated at the jolt it made as it started upwards, but he stood beside me with a perfectly calm face, his hands still behind his back, his long fingers encircling the marking on his wrist.

When we arrived at my intended floor, Loki continued to follow me in silence; I stalked towards my final destination, down the hallway, and into my room.

"All right, so I'm guessing this is yours now," I said as I opened the door. "I'll snag one of the others or something."

Loki looked around as I gathered together the few things that I still had littered about the place; a few books, my laptop. I'd been staying there for a long time, but as we'd been permanently on edge, waiting for the shadows to attack, I'd packed pretty lightly; as evidenced by my earlier debacle with the jeans-and-tee-shirt that I was still wearing. "I've got no idea what the hell Tony plans on doing about this whole 'someone-stays-with-you-at-all-times' thing when you're sleeping… maybe the others will take turns guarding or something."

"Miss Frost."

I ignored him for a second, kind of on a roll. "Maybe he doesn't even know that you _do _sleep." I shook my head. "Nah. I mean, Thor has his own room here. Hell, he's got his own floor. Why don't I have a floor? Oh, right. Cause I'm not an Avenger. Duh."

"Miss Frost."

I realized that I was babbling suddenly, the words pouring out of me before I could stop them. "Then again, Tony isn't exactly the most _observant _of people. Maybe he doesn't really notice that Thor actually has to _sleep._"

"_Natalie_."

I turned to him, abruptly silenced by the tone of his words. He smiled very gently.

"We did it, Natalie."

I tensed; it was a show of familiarity, an incriminating statement. _Heimdal, _I thought in a panic; but Loki's voice cut that thought off in its tracks.

"Can no longer see us," he informed me coolly.

_JARVIS? _I started again, but again he simply smiled and shook his head.

"There are no eyes that I can not fool, Miss Frost. Even ones made of metal. We are safe."

Safe? Safe from what, the Avengers? Safe from my own lies, my own deceits?

It took me a long moment to realize what he was talking about, to switch gears completely; we were safe from their suspicions, safe from the Avengers' constant stares. Safe from the act that we had been forced to perform; safe from the roles that we had been playing all day long. This past day, I hadn't had a moment's peace, hadn't had even a second to just… be myself.

It was as though a weight lifted off of my shoulders, my chest. A weight that I hadn't even noticed was there until it was gone, and I realized that I could breathe again. I sighed in relief and dropped down to the bed, my babbling dying out, my head aching. I buried my face in my hands.

"Never. Make me do that again." I said in exasperation, then groaned quietly against my fingers. He chuckled softly.

"We are far from finished." He sat down beside me, his posture so different from my relaxed, easy manner; he sat in a tight space, so measured and controlled. I peered at him through my fingers. "But we did succeed. Be grateful for the small victories; they may be all we have left."

"Isn't waxing on the philosophical supposed to be _my _job?"

He didn't answer, merely quirking an eyebrow. I leaned back a little, feeling muscles relaxing everywhere in my body; muscles I didn't even know that I was tensing. My stomach unclenched. My hands fell loose and limp. My jaw, I suddenly realized, was aching from all the times my teeth had been clenched together. I was not, in my natural state, a liar.

No. Maybe that wasn't true. Maybe I was just too used to Loki's company; Loki, whom I never had to lie to ever, whom I never _could _lie to. Shifting from that, to this endless deception… it was very disorienting.

Suddenly, I grinned. "We _did _do it, didn't we?" I laughed a little, shaking my head back and forth. "We actually got you out of there. For the love of all sanity, we _actually got you out._" I laughed again, the relief, the wonder at what we had done flooding through me, like an endless adrenaline high.

Loki smiled as well, though it was far more controlled then my own, and he looked at me with an almost patronizing amusement. Like an adult watching a child opening a Christmas present. I was so relieved, so bloody _happy, _that I almost hugged him right then and there. If he was anyone but _him, _I probably would have. No, scratch that: if he hadn't been telling me to kneel a few hours ago, then I _definitely _would have.

"There may have been a few… complications," Loki said, glancing to our hands, which rested a few inches apart from each other, the markings of the distinctive Keys on our wrists matching exactly. "But…" he hesitated, thinking for a long moment. I was still too crazy happy to notice the emotions that roiled about in him; and for a long moment, I mostly ignored them. But then he cleared his throat and tried again.

"Thank you. For your assistance." He said at last. Each word seemed to choke him, and he would not even look at me as he said it. I gave him a look, studying him for a second, before pulling my wrist closer to my body, looking at the pattern there.

"What are crazy mind-linked-mortals for?" I asked, shrugging. He rolled his eyes. I chuckled. "I'll always try to help you, Loki. That's what I've been doing from the start." I leaned back on my hands, looking up at my-and-soon-to-be-Loki's-ceiling. "I mean, I'll always put the Earth first; and Asgard… but I…" I shut up abruptly. I knew what I wanted to say, and thus _he _knew what I wanted to say… but still, I could not say it out loud. I looked to the ground, trying to force the words out. "I don't like to see you hurt," I admitted. "Or afraid. And I know it's just our connection, making me bleed for you… but I do want to help you."

I realized that he was watching me closely, with a little _too _much intent, and I shrugged it off again. "I have limits, of course," I said, too hurriedly.

"Of course," he echoed quietly, thoughtfully. I shook my head.

"Whatever. Let's just get moving before the others get suspicious, _si?_"

"Aye," he stood, walking to the other end of the room, and closed his eyes; I could feel the magic the air diminishing with every movement, our shields relinquishing, our illusions stripped away, leaving us with nothing but our act, our game, to hide us away from the rest of the world. I wasn't sure why Loki had even bothered to create that illusion in the first place, wasn't sure why he had bothered to give us both a moment to truly be ourselves… but I figured that he, the liar, would have had experience with such things before, would know that every so often, the lie had to vanish, and the true, rotten core of the person must show through…

I shoved the thought down, pushing away my anxieties, my guilt. I had lied for a reason. I was protecting my planet, protecting Loki. It was more than likely that he had given us that moment of safety from prying eyes in order to celebrate our victory; not to force me to doubt myself. I straightened, plastering a scowl on my face. The curtain was up. The show must go on.

I gathered up all of my things again, picking them up, tucking my laptop under my arm. "Ok. So this…" I looked around the room. "Is yours. You mess it up, you clean it up. Clear?" I forced myself to act irritable, as though all of this was something that I hated, something that I was being forced to do.

Loki, too, had fallen back into the act: he nodded once, solemnly, his eyes dancing again. As I stalked towards the exit, he cleared his throat.

"Miss Frost?"

I turned. He held a book out to me, still smirking. "You forgot this."

I gave him a death glare and snatched it from him; but as my arms were already full, the movement sent everything tumbling to the ground; I barely managed to snatch my laptop before the screen cracked in half. I swore breathlessly, in a long torrent, as I tried to gather it all up again. Loki stood back and watched; eventually, I looked up at him.

"You _could _help, you know," I grumbled at him.

"I could," he admitted, but he made no move to do so. Muttering something about how much I hated aliens, I managed to get all of my stuff together.

"Follow," I ordered as I walked out; I was not supposed to leave him alone, after all. Though neither of us was ever truly 'alone'; but that was not something that Tony would have recognized. Loki did as I asked, walking after me with tall, confident strides, his coat flaring out just slightly behind him, giving each footstep a dramatic sweep and a touch of power. I ignored this as I asked JARVIS to open the door of the room right next to Loki's; I keyed in my password, which Loki of course knew, and dropped all of my stuff onto the bed and started organizing. It wasn't a long job; just a few minutes of sorting through my useless crap, and Loki remained quiet throughout the entire thing. Say what you like about the Trickster, but patience is one thing that he has down to a T.

Finally, I turned to him. He lifted both eyebrows. I shuffled a little on my feet. Nervous. Edgy. It was exactly how I felt, and it was exactly how I was supposed to feel. "So the others will probably tell us about a meeting sometime later today. I'm sure they'll want whatever information you have right away." I leaned against one of the chairs in the room and added, "Which, I'm also sure, you're not going to discuss with me."

He smiled, neither affirming nor negating my statement; I sighed. "That's what I thought. Ok. Whatever." I frowned. Now that I had Loki out of his cell and in the free, untouched world, I had absolutely no idea what to do with him. After all, a majority of the time that _I _spent in the Tower was wasted away by playing video games, reading, listening to music, watching TV, writing reports… the normal, hum-drum of everyday life. That was something that I couldn't see Loki doing; anything normal, put together with him, just didn't seem to _fit_. I couldn't exactly see the Norse god of Mischief watching TV, or reading Harry Potter or something. (Actually, seeing how much _I _loved Harry Potter, Loki had given me his own view of the story through the memories in my head; he found it a rather distasteful representation of magic, filled with nothing but the drama of mortal lives to make it seem more interesting. Then again, he didn't particularly like Earth fiction, anyway. As he'd once said: "I don't care for the lives of mortals, Miss Frost. I care even less for the lives of _fictional _mortals.")

Loki noticed my dilemma as I chewed on my lip, trying to figure out what to do with him. The light smile that had not left his face since he'd arrived in the Tower now curled upwards even more. We were still in what was now _my _room, but he made himself comfortable nonetheless, lowering himself to the floor, sitting there with his legs folded. "That will be all, Miss Frost," he told me dismissively, closing his eyes. His spine straightened, his hands loose in his lap as he concentrated. This was not a rare thing for him; his favorite pastime really just seemed to be… thinking.

But right now, that was actually _not _what he was doing. I shuddered a little as power started to course through his veins, pure energy crackling inside him despite how calm he seemed on the outside. It had been a very long time since Loki had been at his full strength, since he had been in control of his power. It had taken such a blow in prison, muffled and smothered by his father's power. He had been all but stripped of his magic, all but the basest, core elements of it, and thus had been stripped of a large part of himself. He was not called a 'Master of Magic' for no reason, after all. He was the Trickster, the Illusionist; he relied on these little tricks, this uncertain energy, this ability that separated him ever further from his brother.

And now that power had been returned to him. He was, if you will, taking a little time to become reacquainted with it, with that side of himself. I turned away, feeling that raw energy buzzing through him… His mind was whirring again, his thoughts spinning as he thought and planned, as he gathered together all of his ideas, fine-tuning them into a well-written plot, a battle strategy, based on the subtle power that danced about in his heart…

I tried to block him out. It felt a little bit _too _right, to have Loki back to himself. And it was, in all honesty, seriously unnerving. Loki and I had been on opposite sides quite frequently; that was how we had been from the beginning. And seeing him like this… it reminded me of the old days, the days in which the very thought of him terrified me, in which it was _not _normal to have someone else's voice in my brain, in which I was actually scared of him. It had been a very long time since I had associated 'fear' with our relationship; he had already done his worst to me, had already destroyed me from the inside out, hollowed me out, made me a shell. And then I had beat the crap outta him.

Since then, I had rebuilt. I had pulled my life back together, had built up a life from the ashes that he left behind. I had gone on with my life by helping him, by helping my family. Had dealt with my pain by helping others deal with theirs. And my relationship with him had changed; drastically. I no longer feared him, not really. And these days… after all was said and done, I wanted to _help _him…

A thought passed through my mind that I tried to quell, but it refused to be silenced, and soon echoed in my brain a thousand times over. _Did I ever forgive him?_

I tried to push the thought away, to clear it out of my head… the obvious answer, of course, was 'no'. How could I forgive him for the things that he'd done? How could I let go of the crimes that he'd committed against me, how could I forget that he was the one who had killed April, who had twisted my father's mind, who had tried to make me into a murderer?

But, the more complicated, topsy-turvy, crazy answer was 'yes'. Of course I had forgiven him. How could I not? He was just in pain. Hurt people will hurt people. That's the nature of life; just because I had dealt with my pain by helping others didn't mean that he could do the same, that he was physically _capable _of doing the same. And, beyond that, Loki was a part of me now. He was a part of my very mind; his thoughts and mine mingled so much that we sometimes had trouble determining whose thought was whose. And how could I _not _forgive myself?

The question gave me a headache, so I picked up one of my books and buried myself in it for the next hour or so, forcing myself to concentrate on every word. I lost myself into someone else's drama for a while, someone else's life, with Loki's power-centered thoughts lingered in the back of mine all the while. The silence between us was not uncomfortable; we were used to being silent around each other, as we could not talk at all hours of the day.

After a while, however, JARVIS' voice came over the intercom of my new room, indicating the end of the Avengers' silence; and the time in which they had been ignoring us. "Miss Natalie, Mr. Stark wishes for me to inform you that the Avengers will be meeting in the conference room on floor twenty-three. He wishes for you to attend and has asked that you 'bring Blitzen with you'."

I gave the ceiling a look. That reindeer joke was not as new as Stark liked to think it was. "Tell Tin Face that we'll be up in a minute," I said as Loki's eyes opened. A very faint glow in the back of his black pupils sparked, then died down as he looked up at me, then slowly rose from his position on the ground, standing. He casually brushed himself off, falling into step beside me as I walked out the door.

We traveled via elevator again; this time, Loki did not react in the slightest to the machine's movement, merely standing beside me with a smooth expression. Anxiety had suddenly flared up in me as I realized what, exactly, this meeting would entail. The Avengers wanted information. Loki would have to give it to them; without giving away _everything. _If he told them everything, it was just possible that the Avengers might send him back off to prison, no matter our deal. My brain started whirring. I was fairly certain that, if that sort of thing _did _occur, then Thor would back me up; he would not wish to see his friends go back on a promise they made to his brother. And the Captain would probably be on my side, too; he'd agreed with this. He wasn't going to go back on his word.

I tugged my sleeve down over the Key nervously, then stopped as Loki glanced in my direction with great disapproval. If I messed with it too much, then the Avengers would _know _that something was up. I let my hand fall to my side unwillingly as the elevator doors dinged open.

I lead Loki to the conference room, and quickly realized that we were the last to arrive; or perhaps the last to be informed. That would make sense. They'd want to get everyone together _before _Loki got involved…

The whole conference room was really nothing but a big holo-table surrounded by a bunch of chairs; but though everyone was circled around it, no one was sitting down. Well, no one but Tony, who seemed to be sitting out of pure spite, his feet kicked up on the edge of the table, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded. I imagined him falling and had the sudden, inexplicable urge to actually laugh out loud. Thankfully, I kept a tight lid on that, giving them all a quick mock-salute as I entered.

"Natalie Frost, reporting for duty," I couldn't resist saying. "And oh, look. It's Blitzen. Because that joke isn't old at all."

Loki looked in my direction in that _all-mortals-must-be-like-this _way of his before turning to the others, holding his hands behind his back as he studied them all. They studied him back, and for a very long time, no one said a word. The silence hung in the air, lingering like cigarette smoke, poisonous and hostile. Tony tapped his fingers on the table. Natasha and Clint shared quiet stares, looking back to Loki. Thor ran his fingers over Mjolnir's edge.

Finally, I cleared my throat. "Well. This is sufficiently awkward." I pulled out a chair, twirling it around on one leg so that I could sit on it backwards. "Are we gonna get this meeting started, or are we just going to stare at Loki until Fraye comes and murders us all?"

Say what you like about my less-than-tactful methods, but at least they're effective. Slowly, surely, one by one, the Avengers took their seats; starting with Banner, then Steve and Thor, followed after a lingering moment by Natasha and Clint. Loki took a seat at my side, folding his hands on the table in front of him. Of everyone there, he seemed the most at ease with his surroundings; definitely a contradiction to the circumstances.

But still, no one said a word. Sheesh, was I going to have to orchestrate this whole thing? Because if so, then the world was in some serious trouble, let me tell you. Natalie Frost is not the most decent leader/organizer/whatever.

Thankfully, that did not happen. Instead, Steve took control for me; he cleared his throat, looking around to the other Avengers. "Natalie's right. We're here about Fraye." He shot a pointed glance to Loki. "And no one else."

Loki sighed through his nose. "Contrary to popular opinion, I _am _here to help you." He reminded everyone. Giving every single Avenger, and then me, a look in turn, he added, "Fraye is as much my enemy as she is yours."

Tony made a disbelieving noise in the back of his throat, but he pulled his legs off the table and sat upright, paying more attention. "So what's her deal, anyway? Who… _What _is she?"

In truth, Loki had no idea _what _Fraye was; not really, not by name, not by species… But of course, he handled things perfectly; and a lot better than I would have. He knew how to manipulate the conversation. He pressed his fingertips together, his eyes becoming a little more focused.

"Fraye is… an enigma. No one is entirely certain of her origins, nor if she is the only one of her kind in existence. However…" The little smirk had diminished, but he still held himself with a great deal of power, royalty… And I suddenly saw all eyes glued on him. One thing Loki had down; the Silver Tongue. "I know what she is capable of." He glanced around at everyone. "Shadow Manipulation is but one of her abilities. Fraye is also a telepath by nature; and, given the amount of time she spent here, it is likely that she already knows every one of your strengths and weaknesses. Both physical," his eyes turned hard. "And emotional."

I pretended to react to that, as though I wasn't already aware of everything that Loki knew, of every one of Fraye's abilities. I scowled. "Another one?" I grumbled, folding my arms over my chest, muttering to myself. "Sheesh. Can't have one freaking bad guy who _doesn't_ know your every private thought…"

Loki gave me a patronizing little smile as I kept mumbling. Clint seemed very much in agreement of me, his fingers slowly running up and down the string of his bow. He, too, knew what it was like, to have your every private moment ripped from your brain, to have your mind seriously messed with by some idiot with a power complex.

"There is, however, nothing to suggest that she can use this telepathy to control others," Loki went on, addressing everyone once again. It was pretty impressive, the way _he _was suddenly running things, the way everyone was listening… they might not have liked it, but they _were _listening. That had to count for _something._

"And even if she could," I found myself saying, my eyes darting about, as though I was linking up with Loki's thoughts, or perhaps considering my own. I shook my head slowly. "That really doesn't seem her style."

The Avengers all gave me looks; some questioning, some suspicious… I blew it off. "Don't tell me you didn't notice." I looked around, then ran a hand down my face at the sight of their blank looks. "I swear, non-shrinks will be the death of me… Ok. Just think about it. Think about the way she came to us. She acted like a helpless little girl. Which, obviously, she _isn't_." I waved my hands about. "But if she wanted to control us via telepathy, then why go through all that trouble? And then the way she attacked us, the way she laughed… This is all one big game to her. And a game is no fun if you're just playing with puppets; she doesn't _want _mind-controlled zombies. She wants people who react, who fight back."

Barton gave me a look. "You've given this a lot of thought."

Loki did not visibly stiffen, but his thoughts coiled around mine, warning me to watch what I said… but I recovered very quickly, making my eyes into flint. "She toyed with my emotions. With _everyone's _emotions. She made us love her, then turned around and stabbed us in the back." My voice was sharp as a razor's edge as I said, "I'm not going to let her get away with that."

The others seemed to accept that. They were used to me getting abnormally angry about things, and used to me plotting against the things that I got angry _with. _I cracked my knuckles.

"Besides," I added, a little more relaxed. "Criminal psychology is kinda my thing," I jabbed a thumb towards Loki as I said this, which got me a few thankfully-good-natured eye rolls. They all knew the truth of _that _one. Loki did not look offended; but merely studied me for a brief moment. I had my own way of maneuvering conversations, thank you very much.

"So how long do you think she's going to try and drag this out?" Steve asked me. I shrugged, but Loki answered.

"As long as she can," his voice was suddenly very grave, and I felt a trickle of ice run down my back, goose bumps rising down my arms. Yeah. He would know. I thought of the scars on his arms and was suddenly tempted to reach out and squeeze his hand or something… but that was not something the Avengers would take well, so I tugged my sleeve down instead. "And she is very likely to keep her attention focused on those she believes to be the planet's protectors; which, for now, includes only the people in this room." Everyone seemed uncomfortable with the fact that he was including himself in this, so I cleared my throat.

"Even if she hasn't seen Loki yet, she will," I pointed out. "And if he stands beside us, then she will view him as one of us." I frowned suddenly. "Then again…" I looked to Loki. "If she _is _telepathic, then that means she already knows about you. And you said she beat you before…" I thought for a long moment. A majority of the Avengers were looking at me, confused, but Loki, Tony and Natasha all seemed to be on the same page that I was. I ignored the others. "And if she met you before… then she knows how you think. And she might have already figured out that you would want to fight with us."

The others were still looking confused, even as Loki nodded slowly. "It is possible," he answered. "She may even try to focus majority of this fight on me; considering the nature of our agreement, not to mention our…" he hesitated, lingering over the word for a second, then smiled lightly, "History." He finished diplomatically.

That was something I hadn't thought of before. I frowned, my hand going to my face automatically, my chin resting on my thumb as my index finger rested beneath my lower lip. "Divide and conquer," I said, chewing on the inside of my cheek. "Attack the weakest link of the group… no offense, but relationship-wise, that definitely falls to you. If she can break the team apart like that, then-"

"Um, Natalie?" Steve asked suddenly, but tentatively, cutting me off-mid-sentence. I looked to him. "What, exactly, are you saying?"

My eyebrows furrowed. I thought it was pretty clear, myself; and nothing I'd said was all _that _suspicious. I ran over the words in my head… maybe the word 'team' had gotten him ticked off, particularly since I was discussing Loki as I said it… I looked to him. "Well, we _are _a team. No one likes it, but that's kinda what we have to be right now…"

"No, _literally._" Clint joined in."What the hellwere you _saying_?" He looked back and forth between me and Loki. "Not everyone here is bilingual, you two."

Now I was even more confused. "What? Whadaya mean, bilingual?"

"You were speaking Spanish," Natasha informed me casually; she didn't seem to have much of a problem with it, but then, she was fluent in, um, _everything. _Damn spy.

"What?" I repeated dumbly, looking to her. "No I wasn't."

"Yes, you were," Clint insisted.

"You both were," Steve concurred, looking from me to Loki and back again.

"I didn't even know he _spoke _Spanish," Tony muttered, more to himself than anyone else. I scowled.

"Were we?" I asked, looking to Loki. He half-shrugged mildly, but he too, looked very slightly unnerved by this sudden turn of events. I'd been known to switch to Spanish on occasion; when I thought that a Spanish word explained something better than its English equivalent, or when I couldn't think of the correct English phrase… People got annoyed at me all the time for it. And I do mean _all the time. _The only people I could do that with and get away with it was people who spoke the same languages I did; namely my mother, my father, Tony and Natasha. Even April used to have a problem with it.

But… now that I thought about it… Loki had never corrected me, had never asked me to explain. Not once. Not ever. I thought back to all of our little 'therapy' sessions, to all the hundreds of times that I must have done that over the past year… And, now that I thought about it, he'd actually replied quite a few times in Spanish as well…

"Sorry about that," I said uncomfortably, shifting sideways in my chair, subconsciously moving to its edge, as far from Loki as possible. "That… happens, I guess." I frowned. And now I was wondering; how _did _he know Spanish? I supposed he must have learned it from me; but the very fact that this has slipped not only my notice, but his as well… that was a little discombobulating.

"But what were you _saying?_" Clint prodded, looking slightly irritated. Natasha translated for us quickly.

"They were discussing the fact that Fraye met Loki before; and if she noticed that he was in Natalie's mind, then she may have already reached the conclusion that he is working with us." She said that very tonelessly, professionally… keeping her personal feelings in check. Loki and I both made note of her control over her emotions as she went on, "And if this is the case, then they feel that she may try and use our hostility towards Loki against us. Divide and conquer."

Wow. She said that even better then we did. Quicker, more succinct. To the point. That was the life of a spy, the way that an assassin spoke… And then there was me, the psychiatrist… who poked and prodded and probed at everything… and then Loki, the liar, whose sole purpose was to take every fact and cloud it with his words, to twist and turn it until it was unrecognizable, inconsolable with the truth. I shook the musings out of my mind; I was thinking too much again.

"Makes sense," Clint admitted, a bit grudgingly. "But what about her abilities, her weaknesses? What do we know about those?"

Again, as no one here actually knew anything about Fraye, all eyes turned to Loki. He thought that over for a moment.

"Her ability is very powerful; the shadow control alone is enough to break a world." The ever-present smile diminished, his lip tugging downwards for a brief second. "When the shadows strike, they become solidified; and thus they can be stopped. It is possible to defend yourself against them. But prior to this, they are… insubstantial."

"Yeah, we saw that," Clint cut him off. "Get to the point."

As Loki stiffened a little, fighting the urge to tell him to be patient, I decided to be a little less polite. "Hey, Clint?" He looked to me. "Shut up!" As all eyes focused on me, I turned to the Trickster, snapping, "Loki, continue!"

He did not acknowledge my words out loud; nor did he say anything in our minds. Instead, after a second's pause, he carried on as though no one had spoken. "As you have seen, she also works with Shadow Hounds; though no one knows whether they are another extension of herself, her shadows, or whether they are living creatures in and of themselves."

"And how does that matter?" Steve asked, not unkindly. He was actually, genuinely curious. I explained for Loki.

"If they're a part of her," I said, thinking it over and coming to my own conclusions as I spoke. "Then their fighting style will directly correlate with hers. Their actions will become more predictable. If they are not, then they will each be separate. Unique."

Loki nodded once, recognizing the truth in my words but not saying anything about them. He went on. "As for the Shadows' weaknesses… there are legends of Light occasionally injuring the Hounds, making the Shadows partially lose form… but in the time that I have known of her, I have only seen this happen once."

His gaze slid over to me; and slowly, one by one, so did the Avengers'. I lifted both eyebrows. "What, me?"

Again, he nodded. "Your 'glow'. It was… mildly effective."

"Mildly is right," I said, incredulous. "I mean, if that's all we've got to fight these things, then we've got some serious problems. It hurt one of the Hounds for what, a second? Maybe less?"

"If it was just light, then the repulsors would've had a bigger effect," Tony interjected suddenly. "They're not solely light-based, but they're pretty bright. It should have done something to her. Hell, the _sun _should have done something to her."

Loki looked to him. "Correct. And yet, it does not."

"So what you're saying is, you have nothing," Clint said, his eyes like steel. I gave him a glare, but he ignored me. "All of this… for nothing. Worthless."

Loki turned his unimpressed gaze first to the archer, and then to Bruce. "Doctor Banner?"

Bruce, like usual, had been pretty quiet throughout the meeting; but now he looked to Loki, vaguely surprised. "Yes?"

"Fraye injured you, correct?" Loki's eyes glinted, that old twinkle that I was starting to get very used to. But his face remained passive. "The wound remained when you returned to … this form?"

"Yeah," Banner answered, a bit bemused. Loki slowly rose from his seated position, crossing over to Bruce's side of the room with a few quick, succinct steps. As far as I could tell, only I noticed how he tensed very slightly as he walked up next to the other man. Loki still did not seem to know what to make of Banner; he'd once thought he'd had him pegged, but since Loki's first-and so far only- encounter with the Hulk, his opinion on the man had changed. Drastically. Now, he was no longer sure what to think.

Loki held out a hand. "May I…?" he asked, in a tone that made you believe for only a second that you had a choice in the matter. There was so much self-importance packed into those two little words… how someone asking permission to do something could still sound so freaking regal was beyond me…

Still, Bruce was never really the type of person to be intimidated by that. Or by anything. He glanced to me. My eyes narrowed a little in concentration as I looked to see where Loki was going with this… then I nodded slowly, understanding.

"It's cool, Bruce." I told him; the other Avengers, whose eyes had been locked solely on Loki and Banner, now briefly looked to me as I spoke up.

Bruce contemplated for a second, but then seemed to decide that he trusted me, if not Loki; and really, in the end, I'm pretty sure everyone at that table would have _loved _to see Loki try something. As calm and composed as ever, Bruce stood; he pulled his shirt off quickly, followed by the bandages, while Loki waited patiently beside him.

I winced as Bruce removed the white gauze that had swamped the wound; it was a little higher on his shoulder than it had been on the Hulk, and thankfully a little shorter… but it was a lot deeper than I thought it'd be, and a little too close to his neck for my liking. Bruce frowned as he looked at the gash that sliced down his shoulder and onto his chest; it looked much worse then it had earlier, the edges looking almost… burnt. As though it had been a white-hot blade, not a shadow, that had cut into him.

Around me, everyone reacted differently; but all with frowns and soft mutters, questioning looks and raised eyebrows. It had obviously not looked that bad earlier; and I could see a very faint tinge of black, lingering on the edges of the injury.

Loki, on the other hand, seemed unsurprised, and _unimpressed_. I knew why. He was a little _too _used to injuries like this. He'd seen them many times before… a flash of the scars on his arms danced before my eyes and I was forced to look away. I hated her. I truly, deeply, honestly _despised _Fraye.

The Trickster placed his fingers at the very tip of the cut, the end closest to Bruce's shoulder. He closed his eyes, focusing… I felt magic in his fingertips, a flow of energy… not like Thor's crackling, electric lightning, but more subtle, flowing like water…

For a moment, nothing seemed to happen; though I could feel it, buzzing in the base of my skull; the feeling that he was drawing something out, pulling out the poison from the wound…

And then it became visible; Banner gasped very softly in pain as a thin tendril of shadow began to remove itself from the gash. It drifted towards Loki's fingers in faint, curling wisps; like the trailing smoke of a cigarette. The shadow wrapped itself around Loki's fingers, his wrist… he pulled his hand back, away from Bruce, and held it up to his eye level, studying the smoking darkness.

I glanced to the injury; Banner was carefully prodding it, testing it… it no longer seemed to hurt him so badly, and the blackened edges had vanished. Loki turned to Clint, smirking again, and closed his fingers with a flourish; the shadow, crushed beneath them, vanished into nothingness.

"I would not say," He told Clint in an even tone, "That I have nothing, Barton. Nor that I am without worth." He took a few casual, leisurely steps back to his seat and lowered himself into the chair beside me once again.

I couldn't help myself. Following Loki's little display was a silence that I just could _not_ allow to rest. Grinning, I questioned Clint, "Well. You want some Aloe Vera for that burn?"

He gave me a look as Steve cleared his throat and looked down, hiding a tiny smile. Tony actually snorted. Natasha took Clint's hand carefully. Bruce put his shirt back on, forgoing the bandages.

"If left untreated, and if they are deep enough, then all Shadow Wounds will become infected," Loki noted, bringing us back to the conversation at hand. As usual, he did not thank me for my support. As usual, I did not expect him to. "And while this usually will not kill, it can cause crippling pain. It is a part of Fraye's power."

I shook my head slowly. "Man. Bitch is just loaded with weapons." The others gave me a look. "What? She _is_." I frowned a little. That was another thing that had been bugging me.

"And that's something else I don't get," I said, deciding in a split-second to voice my problem out loud. "Fraye is obviously extremely powerful. I mean, she fights with these crazy shadows, she's a freaking _telepath, _and if she gives you a scratch, you're in pain for the rest of your life." I shook my head out, my hair whipping against my cheeks a few times. "I don't _get _it. She has all of this crazy power… so why does she feel the need to use it in the way she does? Why does she have to destroy worlds? You'd think that something like that would be beneath her. That she wouldn't care; it'd just be wasting her time."

Natasha shrugged. "Why does anyone? All species seek destruction on occasion." I was very impressed by the way that she managed to _not _look at Loki as she said this. "Why do _they_ destroy things?"

I frowned. Well, I had a very obvious answer for that one; but no one here was going to like it. "Because they've been hurt," I responded.

Beside me, Loki sighed. Knowing full well where this was going, he buried his face in one hand. "Not this again, Frost."

I turned to him, affronted. "What? It's a legit observation."

"Fraye is not something to be _reasoned _with," He emphasized, turning to face me; the two of us were suddenly tuning out the rest of the room, focusing solely on each other. "There is no _motive _to her. She simply _is._"

_I don't believe that. _I said, barely aware that I had switched to my mental voice. Loki frowned. _Loki, she said so herself. She __**does **__have a reason for this. She is the way she is because something __**made **__her that way. _

_ She was lying to you, _he said easily; that conclusion was so natural for him.

_ I don't think she was. _

_ Honestly, Frost. This is getting ridiculous._

_ Look. __**You **__didn't do it for no reason. I've never met __**anyone **__who doesn't do the things they do without a purpose. _

_ Monsters are frequently born into this universe, Frost. And they remain monsters, regardless of their past. Fraye is no different._

_ I don't believe that. I __**refuse **__to believe that._

_ Why? _His mental voice was still very calm and aloof. _Because it means there is no hope for __**you?**_

I gave him a death glare and almost retorted, when Tony's voice cut me off. "Ok, that is even creepier when he is actually _here._ Seriously, Nat. Make it stop. Now."

I looked to him, surprised; he went on, "You know, there _are _other people here besides just you two."

I glanced to the other Avengers, who were all watching us with a variety of different expressions. My cheeks went hot; as did my ears. I slouched back in my seat, glaring daggers at Loki as I folded my arms over my chest. "Sorry," I growled. "Force of habit."

Loki gave a tired, slightly exasperated sigh and actually looked to his brother in a _how-do-you-stand-these-mortals _sort of way; until, of course, he remembered exactly who he was and glanced away in haughty disdain. Not, of course, before my Shrink Sense went wild, looking between the two of them. I was going to have a field day with _that _one later. And he knew it, too.

Thor, on the other hand, had pain in his eyes as he watched the meeting continue. For just a second, he'd had his brother back… but only for a second. And then Loki's scorn had reminded him what, exactly, the two now were to each other.

And it broke my heart.

Seriously. Looking at Thor… I didn't know how _anyone _could actually, _purposely _try to hurt him. It was like boiling a puppy; you just didn't _do _that. It took a certain kind of evil, a particular kind of malignance to do something that _depraved_… and yet, I knew Loki's reasons. I knew why he did it, I knew his every thought on the matter…

And they were all stupid. Seriously. Get a grip. And a life. And quite possibly a girlfriend. All this crap about jealousy was just… pointless. I'd have given anything to have a brother like Thor when I was younger, and that hadn't changed as I grew up. Why couldn't Loki see that his brother cared about him? Why couldn't he admit for even a second that hecared _back_?

Just hug it the frack out already.

Loki, however, ignored this line of thinking and kept his focus on the matter at hand as I continued to give him my best death glares. I was still mad at him for what he'd said in our little mental conversation, but he ignored me very pointedly. I saw Banner watching us with a faint hint of amusement; Loki and I had pretty much fluctuated between agreeing wholeheartedly with each other and wanting to rip each other's throats out throughout the entire meeting. But then, that was what we _always _did. What was normal for us was entirely new for the Avengers.

"Despite Miss Frost's persistent arguments to the contrary, I do not believe that it is worthwhile to try and understand Fraye's motives." Loki addressed the others. "Of course, you may reach your own conclusions on the subject," he added condescendingly; as though any conclusions other than his own were really not worth his time, but he was being forced to say it anyway.

I made 'blah blah blah' hand motions for a moment, then stuck my tongue out him. Because I'm very mature. "There's a purpose for everyone. Even her."

"So sayeth the shrink," Tony pronounced. A few smiles spread across the table; even Thor chuckled a little, quietly. Loki temporarily went along with their good humor, rolling his eyes, playing just slightly on his own exasperation.

The meeting carried on in this matter for a long time: with me and Loki constantly torn between arguing and agreeing… the Avengers sometimes seeming fairly at ease with the situation and at other times tensing up… Loki, sometimes being tolerable, and sometimes being downright obnoxious. But, by the time it was finished, the Avengers had a majority of what they needed; a fair knowledge of Fraye's abilities, and assurance that Loki was definitely going to do his part in this. It was decided that we'd all train the next day-something I wasn't looking forward to, considering that we'd have to give Loki a weapon to train _with-_ and we dispersed, with everyone giving the Trickster lingering, slightly anxious stares. A part of me knew that the training was necessary, that Loki would do a lot better with actually _showing _them how to fight her… but still, the others were not going to be happy if he started giving orders.

But it was a lot more urgent then the others realized, that Loki trained with them; they were all _used _to working as a team, all knew the others' battle strategies like the back of their hands… and then you throw Loki and I into the mix… not to mention, given the nature of our link and the way _we_ fought _together_… We'd never actually fought side by side, had no idea how we would react around each other… Ugh. Headache. I pushed the thought aside.

As everyone left the meeting, I noticed that most people did not say a single word to either me or Loki; though Thor placed a hand on his brother's back for a second, as though in silent communication of his pride that he was finally doing the right thing… but Loki ignored this, walking with purposeful steps back to his room; this time, I was the one following, tagging along behind him.

"Pizza Girl," Tony stopped me; I turned. "Don't let him out of your sight."

I gave a two-fingered salute and ran off.

* * *

"You realize that you'll have to tell them eventually."

Loki lay on his bed, looking up at the ceiling, his eyes finding nonexistent patterns without really thinking about it. "I see no reason for it."

I was lying down on the floor next to his bed, in his room, my eyes tracing those same patterns… an open book lay on its pages on my stomach, from where I'd set it down just moments earlier. My hands were tucked behind my head. "If you don't tell them, then you'll have to face it yourself. Work against it. Become immune."

Loki closed his eyes, his hands folded loosely over his stomach; despite the severity of what we were discussing, neither of us were speaking with much emotion; it seemed casual, as though we were discussing the weather… but, if it were truly something so flippant, then we would not currently be shielded from both JARVIS' and Heimdal's watchful eyes.

I turned to him, propping myself up on my elbow, trying to see him over the mattress that towered above me. My book slid off of my stomach and onto the floor, making me lose my page, but I didn't really care so much. "I'm serious, Loki."

"Hmm."

"Hmm? What the frick does 'hmm' mean?"

"It means that you have a rather irritating voice, even for a mortal. And yet you insist on using it."

I scowled, then allowed myself to drop back down, flat onto my back again. "Look, I'm just saying. After that stunt during her first attack, the Avengers are going to be a little on the suspicious side."

He did not need to ask what incident I was referring to; he knew _exactly _what I was talking about. The Avengers had not bothered me too badly about how I'd suddenly dropped to my knees while the Hulk and Fraye had been going at it; they knew nothing of what had happened, nothing of how Loki's fear had reached that crippling level…

"It's not the best of ideas for someone who is afraid of the dark to fight with someone who controls it. Especially if you don't want your allies to know about it."

He sighed through his nose. "And what would you suggest?" he asked coolly, his eyes still closed.

I shrugged, still looking up at the ceiling. For a long moment, neither of us said a word… then, finally, I sighed. "I'll keep it secret for as long as you want me to. But if that's the case, then you're going to have to face it. And I mean _face _it; no holds barred, turn-all-the-lights-off-and-sit-there-for-hours-at -a-time kind of facing it." I frowned. "Maybe you could try training in the dark, too. On your own, though, in case you lose it again."

"Ever the psychiatrist," he mused, though not unkindly. He raised his hand up to his head, his eyes opening again as he surveyed the thin band of Celtic knots that looped around his wrist. "And what of your fears, Miss Frost? Do you believe that you should face them as well?"

"I'm not afraid of anything but needles. And spiders." I found myself toying with the Key on my wrist as well; when my fingers passed over it, it shimmered softly, and Loki's did the same.

"And yourself."

"Well, that's kind of a given."

He chuckled softly, setting his hand back down on his chest… I could see his green eyes, distant, thoughtful… Always thinking. Always planning. How could someone do that all the time? The constant scheming, the constant lies… it must be so exhausting…

He turned his head to the side, looking down to me, lying on the floor beside him. "It does not matter what you fear, Natalie," he said after a moment; I tensed a little. It was rare that the Trickster used my first name without tacking my last one onto it as well. "Fraye will use it against you."

I looked back up at him, meeting his emerald gaze. "All the more reason to become fearless."

He smiled softly. "No one is fearless. Anyone who believes otherwise is a fool."

I threw up my hands. "Fine. We won't even try then. Let's just wait until she comes and snaps our minds, then slits our throats, I am _perfectly _ok with that."

He didn't even blink. We were way too used to each other. "I did not negate your suggestion." He turned back to the ceiling, his voice hushed. "You are correct. If the Avengers are to be kept ignorant of this, then it must be addressed." He gave me a little sideways glance and half-smile. "For once, it seems, your penchant for psychology may be of some use."

"For _once?_"

He chuckled again, closing his eyes. I glanced to the window; outside, the sun had long set, the stars high in the sky, the moon a tired disk of silver in the blackness. It was already pretty late; I found myself stifling a yawn. I didn't want to go to bed; mostly because I didn't want to have to wake up tomorrow morning with all of this stuff hanging over my head. Training, training, and more training. Fun. Battle training with the Avengers and Loki all in one room, then Loki in a room without any light, training him to face his own fears… tomorrow was going to be ugly.

I sighed heavily and pushed myself up off the ground, sitting upright and taking my book with me. "I'm gonna go grab one of the Avengers, see which one wants to stand guard tonight or whatever." I headed towards the light switch and frowned. Loki had always had that grey light in his prison; he'd never really had the option of turning it on or off. It always stayed the way it was; after all, if it really meant so much to him that he sleep in darkness, well, there was darkness all around. So really, it wouldn't have seemed like such a big deal that he slept under the light…

But here, it was a different story. I frowned. It had been a bit of a long day; and Loki's first day as a semi-free man. I doubted he'd have the strength to sit in the dark until he fell asleep, to keep himself in the shadows… but if one of the Avengers guarded him, then that was exactly what he'd have to do. If he still wanted to keep this fear secret, then he'd have to play that part.

I sighed. I felt bad for the guy, I really did, but what else could I do? We couldn't exactly give the Norse god of Mischief a night-light.

Loki did not move as I flicked off the light switch. "_Buenas noches._" I said, a little warily, heading out the door. I was getting ready to ask JARVIS to relay a message to all the Tower's occupants, asking who'd be on watch tonight, stepping out the door, when Loki's voice stopped me.

"Miss Frost…?"

I halted, turning back to him. Despite the sliver of yellow light that came from the door that I was exiting out of, Loki's face was shadowed, hidden in the gloom. "Yeah?" I asked.

He didn't answer. He didn't seem to know how to phrase his question; hell, he didn't seem to know what his question _was. _I stood there for a moment, waiting in the doorway… and then I smiled carefully. Before Loki could say a word, before he could even get his thoughts straight, I laughed softly.

"Why not," I said, not unkindly, then ducked out of the room. I headed to my own, keyed in the password quickly, yanked my blanket off the bed and looked up to the ceiling.

"JARVIS, tell the Avengers that I've got first watch on Loki tonight."

"Of course, Miss Natalie," the computer's obnoxiously accented voice answered me, always so polite. I dragged my blanket behind me as I left my room and went back into Loki's.

I spread the blanket out on the floor next to the door, sat down cross-legged, and closed my eyes. Loki was slightly confused by my actions, but he did not question me as I focused, turning my thoughts inwards, letting a single emotion take control of me…

A glow spread across my skin; very faint, at first, but soon a great deal brighter, casting dim shadows across the entire room. I grinned at Loki, whose face I could now see; he was watching me with the same amusement that people get on their face when they see a cat playing with a piece of yarn.

"Natalie Frost. Superhero Psychiatrist, Honorary Avenger, Keeper of Loki Laufeyson, and part-time Night Light," I announced. Loki continued to watch me, that condescending amusement still sparking in his eyes.

Finally, he turned away from me, onto his side. "You are strange," he noted, closing his eyes. I smiled to myself and lay down on my blanket, tucking my arm under my head. I kept my eyes open, watching him; because, after all, that was what I was supposed to be doing in the first place.

I sat in the darkness for a long time, keeping the glow flared as Loki's breathing slowly evened out… I waited as his thoughts grew less and less coherent, blurring into nonsense as sleep slowly overtook him; and, eventually, his thoughts descended into dreams.

A number of hours passed, by which time I was totally exhausted. But I stayed up, stayed awake, even though I knew that I had no reason to worry. Loki had no plans to escape; had no _need _to escape. Right now, the Avengers were his best chance for survival; why would he run away from that?

I ended up sitting up again in an effort to keep myself awake… but even then I slowly began to nod off. I think I dozed for an hour or so when the door opened again; everyone knew the key code to Loki's room, for safety reasons. I looked up, startled awake by the sudden movement in the dark, and snuffed the glow quickly. Thankfully, I could still see who it was by the light that streamed in through the hall; Thor.

I smiled at him, stood, and picked my blanket up off the floor. Tossing it over my shoulder, I ducked out into the hallway, and Thor closed the door behind me.

"He's fast asleep," I informed the Thunderer. "Passed out a few hours ago."

He nodded. "Thank you, Natalie." Unlike most everyone else on Asgard, Thor had stopped calling me 'Lady Frost' a long while back; it was a little too weird, having us refer to each other by our 'proper' titles. I should probably have called him 'Prince' or something, but really, in the end, the two of us were like family. That was mostly Loki's fault, but still.

"No probs," I answered easily, glancing back to the door. I was totally exhausted; all I wanted to do was drag my blanket into the next room and collapse on the bed. But Thor looked as though he wanted to say something, so I stayed where I was.

Thor glanced to the Key on my wrist; reflexively, I hid it behind myself… but then relaxed when I remembered who I was speaking to. Thor already knew about it. Already knew _everything _about it. "My father chose wisely. You are a great Keeper."

"So everyone says," I muttered uncomfortably. At Thor's questioning look, I sighed. "Look, I've gotta get some sleep. It's been a really long day." I looked him in the eye. "Was there something else you needed?"

He shook his head, and I turned away, walking off, relieved… but the he stopped me. "Natalie?"

I turned. Thor was not looking at me, not anymore; his eyes were glued to the door where, just beyond, Loki was fast asleep. "Yeah?"

"What did Fraye do to him?"

I stiffened; the hair on the back of my neck went straight up. "What do you mean?" I asked, feigning ignorance… but of course he saw right through me. As he turned his piercing gaze to me, I knew that could not be denied.

"I believe you know," he said, his voice lowering. Goose bumps rose up on my arms and legs. "You know my brother as well as I do; indeed, perhaps even more so." His eyes stayed on mine, unrelenting. "A simple defeat would not be enough to force him to ask sanctuary from his enemies. For him to fight beside them." His blue eyes burned with electric ice. "So what did she do to him?"

I found that I could not meet his gaze any longer; my eyes darted to the ground and stayed there, zeroing in on a particularly interesting section of the carpet. I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly. I knew the obvious answer. I knew what I wanted to say.

_She made him afraid. _

It was the worst thing that she could have done to him… and yet, I knew that I could not say a word of it. "Thor, I… I don't know what to tell you. She beat him in a fight. That was it."

He fell strangely silent; in fact, he was quiet for so long that I was forced to look up at him; and then immediately wished I hadn't. The look on his face… there was so much pain and betrayal in his eyes… I looked away again, my own eyes stinging. Dammit. Now, not only was I _exhausted_, but I was also riddled with guilt as well. Freaking wonderful.

My hands tightened in fists as Thor looked away; he turned away from me, and I lowered my head, feeling my hair fall in front of my face as I stared at the ground. "Wait," I called as he turned, stopping him before he could leave. He stopped and brought his gaze back to me, but I did not look up at him, did not glance up from the carpeting.

"I swear to you, Thor," I said slowly. "I swear that I am doing the right thing." I still couldn't look up. Still kept watching the floor. My fists grew ever tighter. "I swear that I am doing the right thing by your brother, and by you."

I finally looked up to him; my vision was a little blurred, my emotions all hectic and crazy due to the lack of sleep. "So please," I begged quietly, my voice a harsh whisper. "Please. If you truly love him, if you are truly his brother…" My mind flashed to the scars, to Fraye's sickening laughter, to the blood that dripped from her hand, that blood which was a lie, the lie that was Loki… I blinked it away.

"Then you will believe me when I say that she merely beat him. That it is only a matter of his pride." My eyes locked on him. I couldn't look away now, even if I tried… Loki's nightmares in the back of my mind were not helping things at all…

"His pride means a great deal to him, after all," I finished, barely audibly; Thor's eyes were no longer so steely, so sharp… his features softened. It was a lie. It was a lie and we both knew it. But it was a necessary lie. And it was all that I could say, all that I could permit myself to say.

I turned my gaze very pointedly to the ceiling after I said this; an indicator that JARVIS was listening. Thor seemed to understand; he nodded a few times, slowly.

"Very well, Natalie," he said after a moment. "I believe you."

I blinked away the moisture in my eyes and turned away, not bothering to say good night, to say goodbye… I simply went to my room, fell onto the bed, and curled up beneath my blanket.

But I did not fall asleep… for as I lay there, trying to surrender to sleep… it refused to claim me, and I was left, alone, in the dark.

And, after a very long time, I walked to the other end of the room, flipped on the light switch, then walked back to my bed.

* * *

**A/N: So… hmm. Stuff is happening, I guess. *shrugs* **

** Okay, like I said, this whole story is going to be **_**unforgivably **_**long. Like, think Harry Potter length. Probably longer, even. Why? I don't know, because I really wanted to get a bit more in-depth with the characters, and the progression of everyone's relationships with each other: The Avengers, Natalie, Loki, everyone. **

** BUT! There are also going to be an enormous amount of pretty Loki-centric scenes. There is a reason that I labeled him as the character in this fic, and a reason that this is called 'The Avenging of **_**Loki Laufeyson'. **_**So, yeah, if I neglect your favorite Avenger… I'm sorry, okay? **

** So why am I saying all this? Meh, I figured I should let you all know. A bit of a warning for the people who aren't as Loki-crazy as I am (LOKI. WHY DON'T YOU MAKE SENSE. MAKE SENSE FOR ME PLEASE THANK YOU). **

** And, I think that's all. K, bye! **


	8. House Arrest

**A/N: OMYGOSH LOOK AT THIS. LOOK AT THIS. IS THIS WHAT I THINK IT IS? IT IS. IT'S AN UPDATE BY SCI FI.**

** Oog. I am **_**so**_** sorry for how long this took for me to post. And that this isn't a longer chapter to make up for the wait. On the plus side, the next one will kind of hopefully be longer… maybe? I dunno, but I'm pretty sure it will be.**

** Also, recently realized that 'Romanov' is actually 'Romanoff'… heh. **_***headdesk***_** Just ignore me and my stupid spelling mistakes, please, thank you… **

* * *

_With each step you take, the bond you break, the nightmare sings as bells will ring, the darkest hour of stolen power, the battle flight of nightmare's right…_

_ These are the things that whisper in the dark… that taunt and torment… and then the crack of gunfire… the sound of someone screaming… _

_ "APRIL!" _

_ The world falls silent as the darkness screams… And she watches, the nightmare child, the Shadowed Heart… she laughs as the darkness swirls about the one who glows, whose tears mingle with the normal one's blood on the floor…_

_ "How dare you care for him?" The Shadowed One whispers into her ear. "How dare you care for Loki, after what he did to you…? April would never forgive you. Never."_

_ Battling the dark, fighting with the light… trying to keep the light alive, to keep that glow fighting, because nothing else matters now…_

Loki's green eyes snapped open, his heart racing, his hands in tight fists beside him… he stared at the ceiling for a long moment, the remnants of his dreams ringing in his ears. For a short while, he found that he could not breathe, could not think… but slowly, that faded as he studied the now-familiar patterns above him, listened to my thoughts lingering at the edge of his consciousness. I was still passed out in my room at this point, but my dreams, thankfully, were a lot more peaceful than his had been.

He closed his eyes and let out a long, heavy sigh. These constant nightmares were not something he wished to deal with for much longer… and yet, every night, they came back for him. The same dreams, the ones which had warned him of Fraye's arrival, the ones that he was certain she was placing in his mind…

He was not sure if it was a conscious choice on Fraye's part, but he did not care, either. He sat up slowly, looking at himself in the mirror. He certainly looked worse for the wear; and it was not something he wished for his brother, or any of the other Avengers, to see. He surveyed the dark circles beneath his eyes with a small frown; even now, she was taking her toll, cutting into him, breaking him apart piece by piece…

He blinked, forcing the thought aside, and ran a hand through his black hair. His fingers were pale and, he realized in disgust, still shaking; he held them in fists at his side in an attempt to hide this newest weakness. It seemed there was a great deal of weakness in his life these days; first with me enforcing our connection, and then with Fraye's sudden reappearance in his life.

He glanced around the room, reacquainting himself with the area surrounding him, and caught sight of something that had not been there when he'd fallen asleep the night previous. He walked over to the closet and pulled off the note that I had taped there during my watch.

_Clothes are in here. Tony didn't really have anything your size/ style, sorry. We'll fix that later today. Bathroom on this floor is down the hall, fourth door on the right. Wake me when you're ready. Wanna get a head start on your 'training' before we meet up with the Avengers. _

_ -Crazy Mortal Night Light_

He smiled very slightly. It seemed that my sarcastic personality simply could not rest. He crumpled the note in one hand, tossing it into the trash can before opening the closet doors. A frown tugged at his lips; well, I had not been lying about the size, nor the style. But, he supposed, it would suffice; even if the rags before him were not as formal as he was used to. Even while wearing Midguardian clothing, Loki liked to look as though he was a person with power, with respect.

He glanced through the limited selection of clothing, then stopped when he saw yet another note taped to a simple green shirt. _This one? –Frost_

He lifted his eyebrows. _Does she think to __**dress **__me, now?_ He thought, annoyed.

He crushed this note as well and threw it away, scanning the other articles of clothing… but his eyes went back to the shirt after a long moment. He sighed. Our tastes, it seemed, were starting to correlate as well. He removed the shirt from its hanger, followed by a semi-formal black jacket and a pair of black pants; none of which were his size, nor what he would wear given the choice, but at the moment, choice was exactly what he did not have.

He draped the clothes over his arm and walked to the door, taking a moment to banish all lingering traces of his dreams from his mind before he stepped out into the hallway. As he'd suspected, someone was standing guard outside; the Soldier, Steve Rogers.

He looked to Loki as the Trickster exited the room. He doubted that anyone had gone past their duty by actually checking to see if he was still inside the room; only I had spent my shift actually inside, watching him. Then again, I had a reason; the others did not.

Rogers smiled almost politely. "Still here, then," he noted. Loki looked him over; he knew what I thought of the Captain, knew that I liked him, knew that he was a good friend to me… and he knew _why _I felt that way… but personally, he did not understand it. The Soldier was an interesting mind to study, perhaps, but it was a simple mind, even when mortals were concerned. Perhaps this was due to his difference in time period, perhaps not.

Loki straightened. "Where else would I go?" He questioned quietly, smirking a little. He started walking, and Steve fell into step beside him.

"Kinda what I figured," Rogers admitted. Loki continued to smile. Steve looked to the clothing in his arms. He didn't comment on them.

Loki continued onwards, not bothering to speak. The Soldier had been polite. I had suspected as much; that some of the Avengers might act kinder to Loki then we'd originally thought, simply because of their nature, but the Trickster had no time for anyone's kindness.

The two remained silent until Loki arrived at his destination; the bathroom that I had described in my note. He turned to Steve. "If you'll excuse me…" he said, ever-so-politely, then vanished inside.

Loki glanced to the mirror. He knew I'd be a little miffed that he hadn't bothered to try and work with Steve, hadn't even made an attempt… I still held on to that foolish hope that Loki might become the 'good guy' one day, after all, that this one time of working with the Avengers may lead to greater things in the future… But he did not have time to discuss trivial matters with the Captain. He wanted to finish washing up and changing before I woke up; that was usually what we did, anyway. We tried not to change clothes or shower or whatever unless the other was asleep; and if it could not be avoided, then the two of us would throw up as many mental barriers as we could, keeping ourselves out of each other's minds. It was one of the many strange-and-slightly-irritating quirks of living with another person inside your brain space.

He glanced to himself in the mirror again and frowned. He should not look so weak. He should not look so… _feeble. _He felt stronger than ever; his magic had returned to him, he was outside of that darkened cell, he was _free… _And yet, his mirror image told a different story. He looked away. Already, Fraye was working against him, twisting his thoughts, trying to make him afraid once more.

_Fear is nothing! Fear is an illusion! It does not exist; it can not be __**allowed **__to exist!_

The words that I'd said to him… had it only been yesterday? Had Fraye only attacked the day previous?

Then why did it feel as though years had passed?

Loki banished the thoughts from his mind. It no longer mattered. All that mattered now was defeating Fraye. Ridding the universe of this monster once and for all.

He washed up quickly, then changed into the outfit that he had chosen, with the shirt that I had suggested; a dark green that matched the colors of his cape, his armor, his usual theme. He frowned slightly; it did not look as bad as he'd originally thought- the jacket certainly gave it a trace of class- but it still did not fit quite right, and would be fairly useless to fight in. Then again, he did have his battle armor, if worst came to worst… even if _I_ thought that might not be the smartest of ideas…

Once changed, he headed to my room; it seemed that the Captain had trusted him enough to leave him alone for a while, for he was no where in sight as Loki walked towards my door… he typed in the pass code with quick fingers, and it swung open slowly.

He saw me on the bed, my arms and legs splayed about haphazardly, my head lolling off the side of the mattress… how I could sleep in such a ridiculous position was beyond him, but we both knew that this was not uncommon for me. As usual, there was a book on the floor beside me, and, as usual, it did not hold Loki's interest.

He walked over to me; though he would never admit it to anyone but me- and only to me because he had no choice- he viewed the mornings as one of the few good things about our mind link; he was always intrigued by my disorientation whenever I woke up. Apparently, I had some pretty interesting thoughts when my brain was half-addled by sleep; usually things that followed abnormal dream logic. I saw the attraction; it had happened to Loki once or twice as well, and I'd found it pretty freaking hilarious, feeling his thoughts reorganizing themselves in the way they did. It was also kinda interesting; you don't always remember your own thoughts when you first wake up, much like you don't remember your own dreams. It's somewhat strange, to see someone else's.

Loki walked up next to my bed, placing a freezing hand on my shoulder, shaking it gently. "Wake up, Frost," he said quietly. My hand twitched, but otherwise, I did not move. He shook me again. "Natalie."

This time, my twitching hand reached out and slapped him away; I rolled over onto my stomach, burying my face in my pillow. "Five more minutes…" I mumbled, almost inaudibly.

Loki took a step back, frowning. He was _not _going to sit around and wait just so that I could have a few more minutes of sleep. A slow, roguish smile curled on his lips; carefully, he pulled his jacket sleeve back very slightly, brushed my hair aside, and spread a very thin layer of ice across the fingerprints of two fingers; then placed them directly on the back of my neck.

I shot upright at the speed of light, letting out a long string of random syllables that sounded suspiciously like, "Eeaglblaflig!" Whatever _that_ is. I threw myself away from his hand and almost rolled off of the bed, crashing to the floor. Thankfully, I managed to grab onto the mattress before that happened, keeping myself from tumbling down. I rolled onto my back, groaning as I ran my hand down my face, trying to clear the sleep-gunk away from my face.

"You suck," I grumbled; my eyes opened, and I saw him for the first time that morning… I looked at him for a long moment, then noted, "You know, I absolutely hate to admit this, but I have actually woken up to worse things than just your smug face in the morning."

He chuckled quietly, green eyes dancing. Slowly, painfully, I pulled myself upright… then fell back down, completely dizzy. "Oog. Headache." I closed my eyes again. "Seriously, you couldn't let me sleep for just a few more minutes?"

"You are the one who wanted me to wake you the moment that I was ready. I am ready. Therefore, you are awake." I gave him a look and he held out his hands, palms up, placating. "Simple logic."

"I actually think I hate you." I closed my eyes again. "I got what, two hours of sleep last night? First with my watch, then with everything else…" I groaned. "Seriously, go eat some breakfast or something. There's no way in hell I'm getting up and being functional right now."

"I thought that was part of your pride as a college student; being able to work with little to no sleep."

"Be warned, you are in dangerous proximity to my foot. And I have been known to kick at random."

He took a casual step back, which carried him out of range of said kick-happy foot, and he clasped his hands behind him. I closed my eyes again; the world did not seem to want to clarify itself, did not want to rearrange into the normalcy that I was used to… instead my thoughts drifted, faded… even closing my eyes for a few seconds made me want to pass out…

"Frost," Loki re-emphasized, a trace of annoyance in his tone. My eyes flicked open again.

"No," I growled, turning around again. "Ugh, give me another hour, please, I'm begging you."

He let out a little half-sigh, studying me for a moment… but as the world blurred for me once more, he recognized that it was a lost cause and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him. Standing in the hallway, he frowned. The Captain and I might trust him enough to leave him alone for a little while, but if any of the others caught him roaming the hallways alone, he did not like to think of what they would do. He had done quite a lot to secure his partial freedom; he did not wish to lose it on something so trivial as a misunderstanding.

He walked towards the elevator. He knew the Avengers' particular favorite rooms from my memories. It would not be too difficult to find one of them, to keep within their sight.

Fortunately-or perhaps _un_fortunately- one of them found him before he had that chance. The elevator door started closing just as Loki caught sight of him; he hid a sigh and held it open for the other man; Thor smiled at him and stepped inside the small room with him. Loki knew that I had ridden on countless elevators in my life before, with no trouble, and he had never really had a problem with small spaces… but when he was placed inside one of those infernal contraptions with his _brother_, the air suddenly seemed to become a little thinner.

Thor did not say anything to Loki, and Loki said not a word to Thor. He knew that I'd be even more miffed that he wasn't trying to work on his relationship with Thor, considering the two of them were _family, _after all, but he found that he would have rather swallowed glass then make any attempt to speak to Thor. Indeed, it felt like he already had.

Moments before the elevator door opened, however, Thor looked to Loki and seemed to notice the missing mortal. "Where is Natalie?"

"Still asleep," Loki answered, not looking at his brother. Thor had tried on numerous occasions to speak to him in prison… and occasionally Loki had responded… but those times were few and far between. And usually, he'd been forced to do so by yours truly, who started singing 'I know an annoying song' until he gave in.

Thor nodded slowly, as though this answer was expected. The elevator doors opened, and Loki waited for his brother to exit before following silently. Thor glanced back to him.

"She was awake very late last night," he noted. "Watching over you."

Loki made note of the way Thor had phrased that: 'Watching over you'. Not 'standing guard' or simply 'watching'. It was, perhaps, an apt description of what I had been doing; after all, I had not been protecting the Avengers from Loki by sitting in that room until two-or-three-in-the-morning; but rather, I was protecting Loki from the Avengers. They worried me sometimes, and Loki was full aware of this.

But Thor was not meant to be. He was meant to believe that I was as upset about this as everyone else, that I was still pretty suspicious and distrustful of Loki… The Trickster tucked this information away in the back of his mind, deciding to keep a closer eye on Thor from this point on… my close relationship with him could become a problem, if left unchecked… I acted more like myself when I was around him. Which, in this particular scenario, was not a good thing.

"She has been known to take her duties seriously, on occasion," Loki said smoothly, trying to brush over the conversation entirely. Thor looked back at him, smiling, as they walked through one of the many rooms of Stark Tower; Loki would have been lost already, had he not known everything about the place from my thoughts.

Loki did not like the look that Thor gave him; it was too knowing, too humorous. Thor turned away. "You are still incapable of sincerity, brother."

Loki's eyes narrowed in thought, but he allowed the matter to drop as the two of them arrived at what he supposed must be their inevitable destination; one of the many kitchens. Romanoff, Stark, and Banner were all in the room, busying themselves with their normal morning routines… but the instant that Loki entered, everyone fell silent and looked up.

He was used to everyone's eyes on him by this point, but he found that it felt slightly… unnatural, to not have me do something crass or reckless to divert everyone's attention after a few moments. He had not realized that he was so used to my continuing interference.

But he did not depend on it; he waited out their stares patiently, stood tall until they turned away, back to their normal duties, back to their conversations. Romanoff and Stark continued their discussion in quiet tones, while Banner resumed eating. Bruce gave Loki a careful look as he passed by, following Thor. Studying him. Banner smiled ever so slightly before he looked back to his food.

Had I been there, I would have pulled something out of the fridge, made myself a bowl of cereal or something, then tossed some food Loki's way and nagged him until he ate it. We'd have probably gotten into an argument about him eating pathetic mortal stuff, but I would've irritated him into submission eventually. Which, of course, I could have gotten away with; I got away with pretty much everything; doing stuff like that was in my nature, after all. The Avengers were used to me being like that.

But Loki was not me. And thus, he sat himself down instead, intent on not eating anything until I woke up and complained at him. To do anything else may not be taken the right way, after all. The Avengers seemed to forget on frequent occasions that he, too, was a person; that he needed to eat and sleep just as they did.

Thor, on the other hand, seemed to have no problem digging into whatever he could find; Loki ignored his adoptive brother's actions and kept his focus on merely blending into the background, remaining unobserved while he observed all…

"So where's Natalie?" Banner suddenly asked; Loki looked to him, mildly taken aback. It was the second time that morning that someone had asked him this question; and in both situations, the speaker seemed to be aiming towards being polite. He supposed that I was a relatively neutral subject; they all knew me, knew how I was, knew that I would not let Loki out of my sight for even a second, even if they thought it was for different reasons.

Loki turned and answered diplomatically; it was currently in his best interests to remain cordial to the Avengers, after all. "She refused to wake."

At the other end of the room, standing beside Agent Romanoff, Stark snorted loudly. Obviously, he had been listening in. Indeed, it seemed as though the entire room was listening, monitoring Loki's every word and action. "Yeah, that sounds like Nat." He leaned back on one of the counters; he had a strange manner about him, a certain flare… always so relaxed, but with a different kind of arrogance, a self-importance that was very unlike Loki's. "Did she kick you?"

Loki lifted an eyebrow. That was interesting. He was unused to knowing what the others said about me when I was not in the room, unused to their reactions, unused to the seeing the things that I did _not_ see. He smiled very lightly, still sitting tall, as though he, not Stark, owned this place. "She threatened to."

Banner's smile grew. "She'll do that," he said, a hint of subtle humor on his features, as though he were remembering something that Loki did not know about… but of course, Loki knew everything.

Still… he hadn't really thought about that particular little quirk of mine; and now he scanned through my memories, through the little things that he had dismissed… There were a lot more times then I cared to admit where I'd clocked an Avenger on the face or head for trying to wake me up too early, whether with my fist, my foot, or whatever random thing that was within arm's reach.

"Go back in an hour or so with some coffee," Stark finished, looking back to Romanoff, clearly intent on continuing his conversation. "She'll get up."

Loki also knew this; knew very well about my addiction to coffee. He'd often found himself craving the strange brown liquid, despite the fact that he had never once tried it himself. Another disconcerting fact of life that had appeared with the creation of our link.

"Actually, Loki, I've been meaning to ask you something," Banner set his fork down, wiping his mouth with a napkin. Besides Thor and I, he seemed to be the most willing to discuss things openly with the Trickster; but then, why would he not? Banner was a man without anger, _because _of his anger. He was naturally still angry with everything that Loki had done, angry that he had been let out of prison… but then, it was that anger that kept the monster inside in line. It was an intriguing concept. "It's about those injuries that Fraye causes."

Loki's eyes darted to Banner's shoulder, where he knew that a gash must still run across his chest. "Has the infection returned?" he asked, almost managing to sound as if he cared. Almost.

"Ah… no," Banner shook his head. "It's not me, actually. It's… Well, it's Jekyll. Natalie's dog? One of the Shadow Hounds got him, a few weeks back, when…" he shut up at Loki's look. "Right. You know already." He added, mildly sarcastic. Loki half-smirked.

Banner cleared his throat and went on. "But if there's something that can keep that from becoming infected… well, he saved Natalie's life. And…" he lowered his voice, his eyes on Loki's. They were strangely sharp, for someone so calm, his gaze piercing and more observant than he would have given the man credit for. "He means a lot to her."

Loki was full aware of how much Jekyll meant to me. He laced his fingers together in front of him. "Understood," he said coolly, breezily.

For the next hour and a half, Loki sat in the kitchen, keeping to himself… no one really talked to him from then on, and when they did it was of little consequence. Barton, when he came to see Romanoff, gave him a foul look, and Natasha remained coldly but studiously silent… but everyone else simply seemed content to let him stay there, to blend in… so long as they could keep their eye on him, they didn't care _what _he did.

Eventually, he stood and started towards the elevator; though not without being given a paper mug of coffee by Thor first. He accepted it without a word, without even looking at his brother.

The others, guessing his intent, did not follow him; though he suspected that Stark told JARVIS to make sure he did not try anything. The idea that the building was watching him was not as unsettling as it may have once been; after all,_ I_ was already used to it.

He pressed the button for the elevator; he was far more familiar with this place and its contraptions than perhaps he should be… he knew many things about this mortal realm; far more than he was comfortable with. Knowledge was one thing. Trivia was another entirely.

But that was _my _fault, my doing. There were days when my mind seemed to be more than just connected with his; there were days when it seemed to be… _infiltrating _it. Polluting it.

For example, this situation the day previous, where the two of us had fallen into speaking Spanish without noticing it… _Loki_ hadn't even been aware that he could do that, that he had been speaking in another language, that he understood every word that I said, no matter what tongue I said it in. But now… well, now he could not think of a word that he did not know in both languages, could tell the difference between them… and he realized that he was actually quite fluent.

Because of _me. _

_Why her? _

Of all the people on this ridiculous planet, of all the creatures on this rock, he had to choose _me. I _had to be the one whose mind he connected to. Oh, he'd felt rather clever at the time; it all seemed like rather perfect irony, taking the mind of Cameron Frost's daughter, twisting me in much the way he had twisted him. Seeing his project, come to completion, now all grown up, with results that he could have never anticipated… It had been so fun to see what I had become, to use my past against me, against the Avengers… a past that he had created…

To think, that were it not for that one choice, were he able to resist that final, cruel twist… then none of this would have ever happened. If I had been anyone else, it was conceivable that he would now rule this Earth, that the Avengers would have been obliterated and he would be king… or, at the very least, he would be back in his prison cell, his head perfectly, blissfully _silent _for once… without my constant, irritating chatter, my snide remarks and constant observations…

It sounded like a dream.

Or maybe a nightmare.

The elevator doors had long ago opened, and he was standing in the hallway… but he had frozen, standing still, unable to move forwards, past his whirring, endless thoughts. He feared losing me. He had admitted as much, had he not? The idea of that ringing, eternal silence in his head, an emptiness where my thoughts now resided… He wished that none of this had ever happened, that he had never had my mind in his, that he did not have such a vile weakness… but for now, he feared a life without me, a life where half of his mind would be stripped away, hollowed out…

He knew that I was absolutely terrified of such an occurrence, knew that I was at the point of wanting to help him, to save him from anything and everything… But he had thought that he would, perhaps, have a few more years before he felt the same. His mind was stronger than mine, was it not? Was he not an immortal? Was he not of Asgard, of Jotunheim?

Then why was his mind falling into that same pattern? Why did he never wish to see me hurt, as I never wished to see him hurt? Why were his mental shields so ineffective? Why could he not push me away?

Why did my mind seem almost as sharp as his? Why did we stand as equals? Had he been tricked? He did not see how. But this type of mental connection could only do so much to make us stand on equal footing; we would understand each other better, but it could not heighten my intelligence, my mental strength against his…

And yet… I had always been able to fight him. I had been fighting him since day one, had ripped my thoughts away from his, had battled at his mental barriers… and while his mind was more powerful than mine, I had eventually breeched all walls between us, had eventually made us into the enigma that we were now…

How was it possible, for a mind so weak to display that much power…?

Unless… unless he had been wrong.

Unless mortals truly _did _stand as his equals…

Impossible. Preposterous. He brushed the thoughts aside. He was reading far too much into this; and it would only make me happy, to see that doubt, to see that he was even considering such a thing. He pushed the thoughts away, locked them in the darkest corners of his mind, where he knew that I would not search for them. Where they would be safe, for now.

But secrecy never lasted long between us.

He started walking to the door again. I was still fast asleep and dreaming, but those dreams had taken a turn for the worst… perhaps that was what had turned his thoughts in this direction, was what had caused him to think along these somewhat darker paths. After all, I was dreaming of his death, just as he had so frequently dreamt of mine…

Fraye certainly was taking her toll…

As much as he did not wish to think of Fraye, he forced himself to do so nonetheless. She was our current enemy. The only enemy that mattered now. And she was the only reason why he was secretly happy that he had chosen me, out of all people, all that time ago… for if it had been anyone else, whether he was now a king or a prisoner, he would not be able to stand against Fraye. For he would not have me, and (unfortunately) the Avengers, at his side.

He keyed in the code to my door, then entered, his footsteps tapping out a quiet staccato on the floor. He set the coffee on the nightstand… then thought better of it and moved it aside. If I _did_ decide to throw whatever was within arm's reach, it would not be a mug of hot coffee; that much was certain.

He placed a hand on my shoulder. "Miss Frost."

I didn't react.

"Natalie."

My eyes snapped open, and I bolted upright, throwing his hand off of my shoulder and jumping back, throwing myself off the bed. I would've landed in an epic, kick-ass ninja pose if my stupid blanket hadn't gotten in the way; instead, I ended up crashing to the floor. The sudden pain, combined with the nightmare that I'd just burst out of, sent me screaming and thrashing about.

Loki was by my side in a second; he clamped a hand over my mouth quickly, desperate to keep the Avengers from hearing me screaming like a little girl; if they thought he was hurting me, all of our plans, all of my lies, would have been for nothing… I tried to bite his fingers, but he looked me directly in the eye, speaking quick, rapid reassurances.

"It was a nightmare, Frost. Nothing more. You are safe."

I looked deep into his eyes, trying to reconcile the image of them with the image that had just been flickering behind my eyelids only seconds ago; the darkness pressing in, cutting across his face, pulling him into the blackness, Fraye laughing as the shadows tore into him… Loki smiled very softly.

"I am safe," he said, very quietly, removing his hand from my mouth. I kept my lips sealed, the scream no longer threatening to burst out of me… For a moment, I felt raw and fragile, like a little kid all over again, having to be reassured by some adult that the world really was a safe place… but then I smelt something familiar, and the rest of me clicked back into place; all of those years that made me who I was slotting back into position in my head, my mind reassembling itself.

I rubbed my eyes carefully. "Izzat coffee?" I asked, glancing around for the source of the smell. Loki sighed deeply and straightened from where he crouched beside me. He held out a hand to help me up, and I took it without even thinking; in fact, neither of us noticed the gesture until, suddenly, I was standing, my hand in his… we let go quickly, and I felt a prickle of mixed irritation and embarrassment on the back of my neck. We were getting far too comfortable around each other; helping one another in anything, even the littlest of gestures, was just so freaking _natural…_

"Yes," Loki answered a little haughtily, gesturing with one vague hand to the mug on the counter. He changed subjects on me quickly, before I could thank him for the unexpected act. "You should have been awake far sooner, Miss Frost. Our time is limited."

I gripped the coffee mug in my hands; my head still felt like someone was splitting it open with a jackhammer, and my every muscle ached from the lack of sleep… but I threw back enough coffee to sufficiently singe my tongue and burn my throat, and that woke me up pretty quick. "Yeah, yeah, sorry. What can I say? I stayed up late."

"So you mentioned earlier."

Did I? I tried to think; I had a vague memory of him waking me up earlier that morning, but as I'd been half dead, it was not _much_ of a memory. I remembered his freezing fingers pretty well, though.

Whatever. I pushed that out of my head as I glanced to him, looking him up and down. The outfit he wore, despite the size difference, actually seemed to suit him quite nicely; I smiled a little as I caught sight of the green shirt beneath his black jacket. "I thought you'd like that shirt."

He glanced down at the article of clothing, a small frown tugging at his mouth. "It is not what I am accustomed to," he said slowly, "But it shall suffice for now."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't worry; I'm going shopping later today. You can come with, if the Avengers allow it."

"Doubtful."

"But possible," I shrugged. "You're not just trading one prison for another. _I'm_ your Keeper. Not the Avengers. What I say goes."

"Ah. I'll be sure to mention that you said that to them, shall I?"

My lips pressed together as a long string of profanities sounded off in my head. I'd really opened myself up for _that_ one, hadn't I?

He smiled softly, despite the foul language that was still streaming inside of my mind. He was used to my vulgarities by now; along with absolutely everything else. It was strange, how comfortable I felt having him here. How much better it was to have him beside me, as opposed to in that hole. We were so familiar with each other; a familiarity that the Avengers could not possibly hope to comprehend, as they could never be aware of the true nature of our connection… Loki was… an extension of myself. A second mind with a second heartbeat. I could feel his every breath as though it were my own… and having him next to me, well… the two of us fell into our relaxed roles, our proper places in the universe. It felt abnormally _right, _to have him here, as opposed to simply visiting him in that darkness…

I brushed the thoughts away. It was just so easy for me to be myself around him; because, really, who else could I be? So why wouldn't I react like the crazed, irritating college student I was? And why wouldn't _he _react like the usually-irritating-but-sometimes-kinda-nice-guy-ok -maybe-not-really-but-a-little-bit that _he_ really was?

Again, I pushed aside the thoughts, changing subjects as I ran my fingers along the sides of my paper mug, trying to warm them. "Anything interesting happen while I was out?"

"Mildly," he replied callously, not even bothering to shrug as I scanned the memories in his head, the newest memories of the lot, as they had most recently occurred. I encountered a few walls and skirted around them; things that Loki did not wish for me to see, and thus I did not pry. My eyebrows went up.

"Banner seemed pretty friendly. Steve, too." I started gnawing on my thumbnail. "That's not something I would have expected."

Loki turned to the window, walking towards it. I was so used to him being here only via projection, so used to the melancholy twinge in his thoughts every time he looked out of my window and knew that he had none, knew that this was his only chance to see anything of a free world… it was almost disconcerting, now that this was no longer the case. But it was a good thing; I smiled a little to myself.

He did not speak again; nor did he turn to me. He merely began to scan _my _memories, to browse through the thoughts that I'd had the night before. The smile was wiped from my face as I threw up a hasty wall, unwilling to share what had happened… he noticed and turned, curious. I was usually very open about each and every one of my memories, save the ones where I was showering or whatnot. And, considering as I had yet to do that this morning, that was obviously not the case.

I sighed deeply. "Just… don't get too mad, ok?" I said, allowing the mental barrier to dissolve. Loki lifted an inquisitive eyebrow; not threatening, not currently, just… questioning. I felt him sift through the conversation I'd had the night before, the lie that I had told his brother…

He sighed through his nose, turning away to the window again. "Inevitable," he droned dully, not a trace of emotion in the word. His hands folded behind his back, his sleeve shifting so that I could just catch sight of the Key on his wrist, creeping out from beneath it. I looked down to my own wrists; the Key on one, the flat silver bracelet on the other. The symbols of my abilities, of my power; my power over Loki, and my power over myself. Yeah. My 'power'. Or maybe my _chains_, my _shackles_… I turned my thoughts back to the matter at hand before I could get too distracted by my own philosophical musings.

"I tried not to tell him anything," I struggled to explain. "But you know how it is, Loki. He's your brother." I felt magic dancing along Loki's fingertips, felt a barrier forming between us and the rest of the world… hiding us, cloaking us from sight. I kept talking, "He's going to figure these things out eventually; no matter how hard you try to hide it."

"If he knows everything about me, Miss Frost, then why has he not yet discovered my fear of the dark? My brother is a fool and a simpleton. He is as blind to me as the man who calls himself my father." His voice did not rise, but the words grew slightly more emphatic, with an underlying current of bitterness. It lingered just beneath each syllable, like swirling clouds of grey, upturned soil beneath the surface of a still pond. "It is not my brother's keen ability to read my emotions that make him a threat; it is _your_ careless manner whenever you are in his presence."

My eyebrows shot up. "_Excuse _me?" I asked, half in disbelief, half in indignation.

He turned to me, green eyes frosted over. Loki had always been the embodiment of ice-cold, patient fury. He rarely exploded, and when he did, you knew you had to run fast and hide faster. He closed his eyes, a collage of memories flashing behind his eyes and mine; I scanned them intently, trying to see what he was getting at… they were memories we shared of the times I had with Thor, laughing with him, punching him in the arm, hugging him in that aren't-we-bad sorta way… the two of us being the way we were, relaxed and happy… like brother and sister…

I scowled as my eyes opened again. "What's your point?"

He let out a faintly disgusted sound, looking to the floor. "Had you been in that situation, discussing the nature of my defeat with anyone but _Thor, _you would have been far more capable of fabricating a decent lie."

"That's bogus!" I complained. Loki arched an eyebrow.

"Is it?" he questioned; I didn't like his tone in the slightest. It was too dangerous. I didn't understand; I knew he'd be upset, but he shouldn't be this _angry _about it… he hadn't been just a second ago… But then, that was Loki. Whenever it came to Thor… it was like flipping a switch, turning off all the lights… pity, remorse, compassion… any good emotion inside of Loki was suddenly stuffed away in the darkness, banished into the black.

Another flash of memories danced behind my consciousness. A quick collection of all the times that I thought on my feet, all of the easy lies I told, all of the things that I said to keep everyone from knowing the truth about Loki, from knowing of his weaknesses… I waited until it had finished, my teeth grinding together, tasting metal.

"You know, I did all of that for _you._ I don't _have _to do any of that; I don't have to do any of this crap! And you know, last night, I-I was _exhausted!_" I was stuttering. I rarely stuttered; only when I was truly, mortally terrified or really, royally _pissed. _Right now, it was definitely the latter.

"I was totally wiped out, I mean, Fraye _attacked _me, I'd busted you outta jail, and _then_ I stayed up until all hours of the night just to keep _you _from being afraid! I'd had a long day, and when Thor asked me about you, yeah, _maybe _I wasn't prepared, _maybe _I wasn't able to think of a lie quick enough, but _come on!_ I think one out of five bazillion is still pretty good, don't _you?! _Just because it's _Thor, _doesn't mean that I have a-a… a _soft spot _for him or some crap! Just because it's _Thor, _just because he's like my bro-" I stopped, mid-tirade, mid-word. "Oh."

Loki, who had been listening to my furious rant in brooding, vengeful silence, blinked at the sudden stop. My eyes went round.

"That's it, isn't it?" I said, looking to Loki. "He's like my brother."

Confusion took over for a split-second, and he turned away from the window in order to face me completely, perplexed.

I sighed suddenly, very, very heavily, all of my frustration and angst coming out in that one singular gesture. I brought my hand up to my face, burying it in my fingers as I tried to think of how to phrase this without triggering a very serious nerve. There wasn't one.

Carefully, oh-so-carefully, taking a deep breath to make sure I remained calm and didn't try to throw this in his face, I said, "This isn't about me having a soft spot for Thor. This is about _you _having one." I pressed my fingertips together. "As usual, you are _jealous. _Only it's not just of Thor; you're jealous of _me, _and the relationship that I have with him." I looked him dead in the eye, unable to help the grave undertone as I said, "I'm the sibling that you can never be again."

I couldn't even begin to describe the expression on his face; nor the emotion that started to freeze out his heart. There are no words to depict what went on in his mind, nothing to portray what he felt. It could not be called pain, or anger, or hate… nor could it even be called a mixture of all three… it was not bleak and cold or white-hot and fiery… there is nothing that could explain it. It simply _was._

"And because you can not have that kind of bond, because you have broken down your own relationship with Thor, because you believe that you have destroyed everything that made you brothers… because you think that a stupid little thing like _heritage _and _blood _matters… you have thus _convinced _yourself that this is a _weakness." _I pinched the bridge of my nose, shaking my head back and forth. "Because if you can't have it, no one can." I snorted in disgust. "You are such a _child._"

Ok. That pushed the wrong button. I had been fully intent on keeping my cool and saying that as _delicately_ and _tactfully _as possible. But I had my own kind of rage to contend with; and it was the exact opposite of Loki's patient, arctic ire. No, _my _fury was the fiery, explosive, get-out-of-my-way-or-die kind of hatred. Rash and impulsive; I would grow more reckless as Loki grew more calculating, fire and ice battling it out, struggling for supremacy. The separate furies of glaciers and lava, frozen wastelands and raging volcanoes. _His_ heart froze. _My_ heart turned to ash. And we both became monsters.

I swear that Loki would have killed me. He totally would have, if he'd been given the chance, if he did not have the link holding him back, if he did not have thoughts of Fraye still looming above him like a vulture. His hands did not clench in fists, but rather, he stretched out his fingers at his sides, ready to create some kind of illusion, some kind of magical trick that would distract me, that would _end _me. But nothing came to completion; he could not destroy me and he knew it. We _both _knew it.

Feeling my heart smoldering, my skin steaming from the pure fire that had to be radiating out of me, I took another deep breath, trying to cool down, to keep my head. "Ok. Ok. All right. Just… look. I'm gonna back off for a while, ok? We can't afford to fight anymore, not like this, not… _seriously_. So I'm just… I'm gonna go take a shower, get outta my PJs, get dressed… give us some time out of each other's heads for a while, all right?"

He did nothing. Merely stood there. Glaring.

"Just… thirty minutes. Half an hour, neither of us talk to each other." I looked him in the eye. "But then _this_? This _didn't happen._ Neither of us said a word. We just get on with our lives as though nothing is wrong. Okay?"

His eyes were narrowed, studying me intently, scanning my weak points, my fighting flaws… still thinking of the best way to strike. But after a very long, weighted moment, he gave me a single terse nod.

I nodded back and turned away from him, scooping my cell phone up from the counter behind me. I always tended to check my messages in the morning, as I was usually up later then most sane people, and tended to miss a few calls. Not to mention the fact that I hadn't really had the chance to look at it yesterday, either. I took it with me and walked out of the room; Loki followed, a silent wraith, shadowing my every footstep as I walked to the elevator. I planned to lead him to a room with one of the Avengers and dump him there; let him be _their _problem for a while.

But, as I walked, I glanced to the small, over-bright screen in my hand. Five missed calls, three voicemails… two from my mother- no big surprise- and one from…

From…

_April?_

I blinked a few times, glancing to the number below the contact name. No. Not April's cell number, her home number. I still had it saved under the same contact. But my fingers didn't stop trembling; because even though that wasn't April's number, even though it wasn't _her… _the only other person at that house was her mother.

Ignoring Loki behind me, pressing the elevator button, I pulled up the voicemails and held the phone up to my ear. My mother's message was first; and her voice started through the speakers just as the elevator doors swished open; I stepped inside, grimacing.

"You need to keep your phone on, Natalie, I swear. Your father got a call the other day from your boss-what's his name? Director Fury?- anyway, he set up that appointment with that doctor you wanted… he's a very nice man, you know, I don't know why you complain about him so much."

Nice, mom. She _had _to know these phones were _bugged, _right? And beyond that, who the hell was she _talking _about, 'nice man'? She totally did _not _know Fury. At all. In the slightest.

"Anyway, he said you're really busy right now, said that you were supposedly dealing with a new threat… your father seemed to think along those same lines, too… Well, I think you should go to that doctor with him, it'd mean a lot if you were there by his side…"

My stomach dropped through the elevator floor as it led us downwards. I chewed on the inside of my cheek worriedly. I'd go with my dad, I didn't have a problem with that… but still… I glanced to Loki. I doubted I could even get out of the Tower to do so…

The Trickster stared stoically at the elevator doors, waiting for them to open again, waiting to get out of this claustrophobic room. I turned away and ignored him just as determinately as he was ignoring me.

"Well, give me a call when you get this." The message ended; I pressed the delete button and held the phone up next to my ear again. Immediately following a machine female's introduction, my mother's voice came back through the speakers again.

"Is it true, Natalie?" She demanded, her voice shaking. "Did you really… I mean, is he really back?"

My throat clogged.

"Tell me it isn't true. Tell me you didn't let him back onto our planet, please, Natalie… Your father… he's going out of his mind. I mean, after what Loki did to us… tell me you didn't ask to bring him back, _please, _Natalie…"

I deleted the message before it could finish, jamming my finger onto the touch-screen-button. My hands were shaking again. So this was how the Council got me back; by ordering one of their operatives to inform my _parents _on the situation… I wondered who it was. Clint? Natasha? Fury? Maybe one of them just did it on their own. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that _someone _had spilled the beans. Spilled them _big._

I pressed the phone to my ear for the third and final time, eyes stinging. Mrs. Blackthorn never called me just to say hi. It was never for a good reason; it was always demanding something or other that April had given me over the years, old Christmas presents, birthday gifts… something. That was if she called at all…

For a long time, there was silence on the phone. A recording of nothing. But then I heard it; someone breathing, very softly, on the other end… there was a soft, choking sound, as though she had tried to say something and stopped before it could ever come out into the world… Silence again. A long silence.

Then, "I…I…"

I listened in rapt attention; the elevator doors had long ago opened, but Loki and I were still standing there, in that small room, unmoving, immobile.

There was a stifled sound, like someone covering a sob… and then a click. The message ended. I deleted it quickly, then disconnected from my voicemail, shoving my phone deep into my pocket, tucking it away, out of sight from the rest of the world. Well. This morning had been very kind to my emotions. First Loki and I coming to blows, then remembering my father's lesions, then my mother's disapproval on my choice and April's mother's pain bleeding over onto me… I'd been awake, what, half an hour? Tops?

My life _sucks._

I started to stalk out of the elevator, to stomp off down the halls, just wanting to get away from all of this, to rip my thoughts from Loki's for a while and just have a few minutes of peace… But as I left, I felt his cold hand as an unexpected, and hesitant, weight on my shoulder. I turned, whirling to face him, fire burning in my eyes once again…

He was studying me. His eyes had softened considerably; I knew that he was _trying _to hold onto his hate, that he was clinging to it desperately, trying to stay mad at me… but my pain was wearing him down, an ocean against the cliff face of a mountain, the slow and eventual crumbling… His hand stayed on my shoulder. The two of us were not so uncomfortable with physical contact; I tended to be a bit of a touchy-feely, let-me-hug-you type of person, and I had a nasty habit of enforcing that around Loki. (Well, I'd never dared to hug the guy, but still, this sort of thing wasn't uncommon.)

I hadn't realized that I was crying until I looked him face-to-face, eye-to-eye, and saw myself as he saw me, saw myself in his mind. I reached up quickly and wiped the moisture away with my fingertips. Loki removed his hand from my shoulder, his former coldness returning in a heartbeat. I gave him a curt nod, acknowledging his action; he was covering my weaknesses just as I was covering his. If the Avengers saw me crying, they wouldn't rest until they knew why. And right now, neither of us had time for that.

I started forwards again, keeping my focus on not allowing the tears to spill again as I tore down the hallway, leading Loki to one of the living rooms… the second I saw Steve in there, I stopped, leaning in through the doorway.

"Cap!" I called. He looked to me, turning away from his book. I jabbed a thumb towards Loki. "I'm taking a shower. Baby-sit the Norse god of Irritating for me, will you?"

He smiled a little and nodded, looking to Loki, who ignored him. He breezed into the room as I ran out of it, back down the halls, back to the elevator, away from the staring eyes of the Avengers, away from Loki's thoughts… as I made it back inside and the doors hissed shut behind me, I used that as a visual, closing my mind to anything and everything, blocking out the world, leaving me with nothing but _me, _my own private thoughts, my own little world.

Before I reached my floor, however, I jammed my fist into the emergency stop button. "JARVIS, don't call for help, ok? Just leave it alone."

"Understood, Miss Natalie."

I looked at the silver doors, looked at the seam between them, the line where they closed… for some reason, I had the strange urge to pry them open, to see the cold, empty shaft that they hid, to see the mechanics that we never really thought of… My mind swam on this tangent for a long time, whirling and dancing about the cables that held this metal cage aloft, threading itself in between the cogs and machinery that kept everything going…

And then suddenly, I was on my knees, my face in my hands… and I was crying again.

* * *

**A/N: Hopefully the next chapter will not take forever to update, and I **_**plan **_**for it to be absurdly long. Whether or not I'm biting off more than I can chew still remains to be seen. Thank you all for your patience and a double thank you to all of my reviewers! **


	9. Doesn't Play Well With Others

**A/N: Well… It looks like I did indeed bite off more than I could chew. -_- Fun. **

**And I know that I'm late… BUT LOOK HOW LONG THIS THING IS. OH MY GOSH. THIS TOOK FOREVER. AND NOW MY BRAIN FEELS LIKE COTTAGE CHEESE. **

**On lighter notes: wow, I got a lot of song suggestions last time. :) Thank you all so much for that. :D **

**Also, a few of you mentioned the whole transition I had where it was sort-of-almost-in-Loki's-POV-but-not-really… well, I'm glad some of you like that, because it's going to happen a lot. -_- **

**So! Hope you enjoy. :) **

* * *

I emerged from my room about forty minutes later, having cried myself out, showered, and changed into the ensemble I was now wearing; black tank top, baggy camo pants, and army green fingerless gloves, the wrist of which reached up high enough to hide the Key. My hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, not a strand out of place, but my bangs still dangled in front of my eyes. No jewelry; today was a training day. I had to keep things simple, light, with nothing holding me back, nothing that could catch or snag on something else. Black sneakers were tied extra-tight, the shoelaces bundled up in a few extra knots to keep me from tripping over them.

I pulled myself together with a few deep breaths, then dropped all of my mental walls. Loki sensed this and allowed his to vanish into smoke as well. While my pain had semi-disappeared from his mind, he had been free to brood and plot against me for my earlier words and actions… but now was not the time for that. And we both recognized it.

I, too, had quelled my anger; forced it to remain locked away in a point near my heart, to be used at a later time, to be looked at when I had the opportunity, when my fury would become necessary. But now was not that time.

I retrieved Loki from where I'd left him with the Captain before walking with him back to his room. The two of us stayed in surly silence for a while, neither of us speaking as I closed the door behind us, turning to him, arms folded as I looked him up and down.

"Right," I said, forcing myself to sound businesslike, to keep everything perfectly professional, to stop the two of us from screaming at each other. I was right, I knew I was right, and that was all that mattered. "The idea's simple. You're afraid of the dark, so you sit in the dark for a while until you get over it. Immersion therapy. Easy."

His eyes glinted. "Easy," he echoed without any feeling.

"But, there's a catch," I said, scowling a little. This was an idea I'd had last night; but if I'd known that the two of us were going to be bickering this badly, I would have completely ignored it. This wasn't going to work with the two of us arguing like this. "Simultaneously, I want us to work on our link."

His eyes narrowed; whether in thought or bloodlust, I wasn't certain. I explained, "You know that whole 'merging' bit our minds do whenever we agree on something? Where the two of us totally and completely cooperate with each other, our thoughts nigh inseparable?" He didn't bother to nod. I went on, "And that's what we always do whenever we're fighting together, right? Which means that when Fraye attacks again, _that _is going to be your likely state of mind. So you're going to have to learn how to be in the darkness, while at the same time keeping _us _from going too fear-crazy." I looked him in the eye. "We can't have a repeat of last time. If one of us goes out of commission, we both do; and Fraye takes us all down. Clear enough?"

"Crystal," he answered bleakly.

"Good." I said curtly, then flipped off the light switch. I navigated my way over to where he was in the dark, tripping over something and cursing softly before I scattered the glow across my skin. I saw his face in the gloom, watching me, the darkness shadowing his features as he glowered.

I sat down on the floor; he folded himself into a seat across from me, closing his eyes as I snuffed the glow, sending us back into darkness. I closed my own eyes as well.

"All right. There's gotta be something we agree on," I said, focusing on my words, and not on Loki's fear. "Something that we both want to accomplish."

"Destroying Fraye," Loki answered softly. I winced.

He sighed heavily, his eyes opening; he shut them quickly, pretending that he had seen nothing, imagining that he was still in a room filled with light, that the sun blazed in through the window despite the thick curtain that I had strung across it. "Do not tell me that your goals on this matter have changed."

"Well, I don't want to kill her, if that's what you mean."

"You're impossible, Frost," he said breathlessly, incensed.

"Whatever. Let's just find something else we agree on, yes?"

He scowled. "Staying alive, perhaps?" He asked dryly. "Or is that also something you no longer wish to do?"

I sighed heavily, forcing myself to be the better person and not react to that. My anger was threatening to resurge again, and I took a moment to focus it back into its pinpoint, back into a little dot that rested just behind my heartbeat. Closing my eyes so tightly that bright colors began to flare behind my eyelids, I allowed my mind to open up, allowed all walls between us to vanish, and tried to search for a thread of thought that could connect us together. There were few things that Loki and I agreed on; but when we did, we could be nigh unstoppable.

If we could just _focus _on that… focus on what made us powerful…

"We both want to _stop _Fraye, at least," I said at last, brushing aside all other thought. "We might want to do it in different ways, but there's no doubt that she's dangerous. That we'll have to fight her."

Loki considered my words, then nodded curtly; I could _feel _the gesture, though I could not see it through the dark and through my own closed eyes. "Agreed," he said softly, musingly. I kept my eyes shut, trying to focus on that, trying to force that bond that Loki and I so often forged in battle…

It was so very different, trying to make our minds flood together without the aid of adrenaline, without the help of the war singing in our veins. But slowly, tentatively, our thoughts meshed, our brains following along the same track, the same current. Walking down the same path. Working together, just like we _should _be.

I felt Loki in the darkness, felt him as though he were a part of myself, felt him in the same way I felt my arms or legs, hands and feet. He was another extension of myself, and I was an extension of him. Moving together, almost like the same person; our breathing synchronized, our heartbeats drumming to the same slow, steady beat.

Slowly, we opened our eyes.

The fear slammed into us both; originating from Loki, perhaps, but with all of our walls down, there was nothing to separate the two of us, nothing to protect me from it. We gasped as one, but I grit my teeth as Loki stared into the black, his heartbeat growing more rapid, mine joining suit.

Determination flowed in our blood; we were _not _going to let a little _darkness _make us _afraid. _Fraye had done many things to Loki; many terrible, horrible, awful things… but the worst of all was that she'd instilled fear into his heart, that she'd made him fear the darkness, he, the Trickster, the manipulator, the man who worked in the shadows, now banned from that which had once cloaked him. Which had once saved him.

And suddenly, our link grew stronger. Screw stopping Fraye; my anger came back all at once, now re-directed. _This _was what we agreed on, above everything else. Loki had been made to fear, had been given a weakness (a weakness beyond just me). We could _not _allow that to happen again, could _not _allow Fraye to have the _satisfaction _of scaring him. Of banishing him from the dark.

We had to fight back.

Fed by this agreement, our link held fast for a great deal of time. We stared into the darkness together, our minds wandering down the same paths, traveling down twisting, winding roads, creating strategies and thinking over battle tactics, imagining fights and how they would go. Some of these imaginings included Fraye; most of them did, in fact. But many others were focused on other things; the Avengers, for one. Thinking of arguments they may have for various facets of life, coming up with counterarguments, things that were cold and logical and undeniable, things that they could not refute. We thought of Asgard, of Midgard, of Jotunheim. We thought of Loki's family, thought of my own, thought of ways to deal with the various situations involved in each. On these things, our link would occasionally waver, and we would be forced to think of other things to keep it steady and strong.

Loki's fear reappeared many, many times; mostly when he was not thinking intently enough, mostly when he allowed himself to focus on the darkness. If, for even a second, he let himself think about the shadows he was sitting among, allowed himself to wonder what he would do if they suddenly sprang to life, let himself think about the probabilities of such a thing occurring… then the fear would come back again, and we would be forced to push it away, to battle it back, again and again, over and over…

We stayed this way for over an hour; then, utterly exhausted, Loki whispered, "Enough," and broke away from my thoughts. It sent a ripping, tearing sensation splitting down from my skull, all the way through the rest of my body, and I sucked in a breath through my teeth, trying not to cry out. It was very disorienting, to suddenly be 'by myself' again. Despite how his thoughts were still very much there, despite how they were lingering in the back of mine, I almost felt as if I were alone.

I took a long moment to gather myself together again, to seal the split edges together as Loki unfolded himself from the ground and stood. He flicked on the light switch, walked to his bed and lowered himself onto it, sitting down and running his hands over his face.

I pulled myself up off the floor and walked over to him, a shade more re-oriented now, but still feeling slightly queasy. I sank into a seat next to him. I, too, was completely exhausted; fear can do that to a person, and Loki had been fighting it for so long, so trapped inside of his prison cell…

"Hey," I said, my tone a lot kinder than it had been an hour ago, my earlier resentment forgotten. I was too tired to stay angry. Loki turned to me as I nudged his shoulder. "You did good. Better than I thought you would on your first go."

He turned away again, his gaze hard despite the bags that I suddenly noticed under his eyes. His hands were trembling. So were mine. "It was not enough," he answered, the barest breath of a sound, hissed through his bright white teeth. His face was impassive and cold despite the tiredness there.

"These things take time," I said gently, placing a hand on his arm. He jerked away in irritation, standing and walking to the other end of the room, where there was enough space for him to start pacing. He did so, walking back and forth with quick, agile strides.

"Time?" He asked smoothly, his voice colder than cold. "Time, Miss Frost, is one thing we are sorely lacking. Fraye may choose to attack tomorrow, or to wait for years. In either scenario, we are completely and utterly at her mercy. _Again._" The last word was snarled out, venom dripping. I quirked an eyebrow.

"Again?" I asked, leaning back a touch and folding my arms over my chest, feeling my eyes spark just slightly. In my best shrink-voice, aiming for compassion as opposed to hostility, I pointed out, "This is my first time. The Avengers' too." For a moment, I panicked, double-checking to make sure we were still shielded from JARVIS and Heimdal; but of course, we were. Loki would never make such a careless, rookie mistake.

"Then be grateful for that," he sneered. "Though it may also be your last."

My mind started buzzing. Again. Dammit.

I knew I didn't have time to talk this out with Loki, knew that I had to go out and retrieve clothes for him _before _we did our actual 'training' with the Avengers… And I was already exhausted… but still I wanted to stay here, to linger, to discuss this with him. Loki had alluded to the things that Fraye had done to him, had alluded to the tortures she had forced him to suffer through… spoken of how he had been completely helpless, powerless, under _her _command, at her mercy… But he had never spoken with me openly about it, had never told me what she had actually _done. _So far, I had been very good, very patient, letting him tell me what he could, when he could. It was the reason why April had been such a good friend to _me, _and now it was the reason why I would be such a good friend to everyone else.

But because of that, every little hint he gave me, I pounced on. Tried to dig deeper, to probe further into the mechanism, to figure him out.

However, the thing that had _really _gotten my brain working was the fact that he had included _me _in what he'd said; that _we_ were _all_ completely and utterly at her mercy _again. _It had been an interesting slip, if you could call it that.

"We can't rush this," I said, keeping my voice calm and soothing. "Fear isn't something that will go away overnight, no matter how hard you try." My gaze softened. "And it's not a weakness; it's normal. Everyone has fear."

"Not you."

I blinked, startled. There was a dark sincerity in his eyes as his gaze turned to mine, sending shivers through me. I laughed it off. "That's not true and you know it. Needles, remember? Spiders? Myself?"

His gaze pierced through mine, scanning me, searching me from the inside out. "But you do not fear death," He noted, his voice that subtle, dancing wind, a twisted current of air that weaved its way about me.

Ok, that was half-true. I was scared of death; I was terrified, actually. But I'd been faced with the idea that I would die painfully a very long time ago; back when all of this first started. There even came a point when I asked the Avengers to kill me, if necessary. No, I didn't want it, no, I wasn't suicidal, but yes, I had accepted that all things will eventually die, including me. And I lived with it.

Since then, fear of death wasn't really the issue. Fear for others, fear for my world, fear for Loki or Thor or Tony or Steve or Banner or even Natasha and Clint… those fears had replaced it. Healthier fears. Better fears, if there was ever such a thing. Fears that motivated, rather than hindered me.

But that didn't mean I was totally unafraid of dying. It's just that, when it came right down to it, so long as I went down fighting, I could live with it.

"And death is your _only_ fear," I concluded for him, realization settling in. "I do not fear it, and you fear it too much. You are petrified of the things that Fraye did to you, the things that she can do again, and thus that makes you fear the dark. You fear pain and death, which is why you're afraid of losing me. All of your fears… stem from that one thing."

In the time that I had been speaking, Loki had resumed his furious pacing. Now, I stood and walked over to him, placing my hand on him to stop him. This time, he did not try to throw me off, but rather halted, looking at me. A person with a death wish who was simultaneously afraid of death. The more I learned about Loki, the more twisted he got.

"Your fears are irrelevant to the situation," he told me. "Mine are not." He turned, giving the ground a steely glare. "And, given my connection with you, they could easily get you killed." He looked to me. "You know this. And though I have continually stopped you, _reprimanded_ you for doing things that could destroy _me, _you haven't once made mention of this fact."

My eyebrow went up again. "You can't help what you're afraid of. I can't blame you for that."

"I would have." There was no hesitation, no debate in this. He _would _have blamed me for a fear of the dark, would have berated me fiercely for it, would not have helped me. He would have mocked me. Scorned me.

"Well, that's why _I'm_ the shrink, innit?" I retorted. "Compassion is my thing, not yours."

He glanced away, looking into the mirror, studying our reflections there. I followed his gaze and realized that my hand was still on his arm. I didn't move it.

"You turned your fear of death into fear for your world, for your friends. And thus you are not afraid when you come face to face with Fraye; you can fight her, with little to no regard for yourself." His eyes met mine in the reflection, slightly perplexed. "You turned your greatest weakness into your greatest strength."

I gave him a look, staring back in the mirror. My greatest weakness, from his eyes: the Avengers. My family. The people I cared about. Him. He understood it; he had his own issues with his family, his own weaknesses involving Thor and Odin and Frigga and everyone else. But he did not have to _like _it, did not have to view it as anything _but _aflaw.

But the fact that I was using it in my favor… I smiled lightly.

"Makes you think, don't it?" I asked, nudging him playfully. All of my anger from earlier had vanished; I couldn't stay mad at him for long. Unlike Loki's icy fury, which could remain coated around his heart for a very, very long time, my fiery rage burnt itself out fairly quickly.

"Maybe caring about other people isn't a weakness at all," I pressed, wrapping my arms around his, squeezing it tightly as I looked into the mirror. I rested my head on his arm for a second; it was a little more personal than our usual contact, but not by much. Like I've said; I'm a touchy-feely kinda person, big on hugging and holding hands and all that mushy-gushy crap. Half of the Avengers were used to me hugging them and stuff; and Loki, reluctantly, was used to it as well. Even if I'd never actually 'hugged' him. Meh, whatever.

"Maybe it can be a strength," I added, as his reflected gaze flickered down to me. I smiled a little; the idea that he was even thinking along these lines was a major breakthrough in and of itself; one of those moments when all those months of therapy sessions seemed worth it. Proof that I wasn't just beating my head against a brick wall.

"Miss Frost?"

"Hmm?"

"Release my arm."

I rolled my eyes and let go of him, pushing him lightly as I walked to the other side of the room, over towards the door. "Grumpy guts," I teased, twisting the door handle. He hesitated before his reflection for a moment, then turned, following me impassively. I felt a lot better suddenly, a little more awake, a little happier. My footsteps were no longer so leaden, the endless weight on my shoulders and chest not quite so debilitating. I headed off to my room, with Loki following, and retrieved my purse from inside.

"Right!" I said, a little brighter than earlier. "I'm going to the store. Gonna fix…" I scrunched up my face and gestured to the clothes hanging limply on his frame. "_That. _Any preference on which Avenger I dump you with, or are you just unhappy with everyone?"

He arched one careful eyebrow, clasping his hands behind his back, his feet aligned perfectly with his shoulders. The magical energy that hid us from the rest of the world dissipated from around us. "It matters not," he said coolly; it was the strangest thing. Even when he was showing no emotion whatsoever, even when his features were blank and his eyes hollow… there was always such a hidden _depth _to his each and every word…

"All right, then," I said, slinging my purse over my shoulder. "I'll be back in time for training, but if I'm not, don't let them start without me, clear?"

"You believe I will have any say in what the Avengers do?"

"I believe that I'll talk through you if I have to; but they're gonna listen whether they like it or not," I answered firmly, closing my door, hearing the locks click into place. A slight frown tugged on his lips; he did not like the idea of me using _his _voice to speak, any more than I had liked the idea of him using _mine._ But before he had the chance to protest, something else happened; an unexpected pain flared through his stomach, which growled suddenly. We both froze, utterly still for a brief second, the sound lingering in the air as a hollow note. I looked at him, incredulous.

"You haven't eaten yet," I realized suddenly. I swear Loki turned red.

"The opportunity never presented itself," he countered smoothly, his voice quiet, his manner composed.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Crap. Loki, I'm so sorry, I completely forgot." In fairness, he had forgotten as well, what with the drama of the entire morning, but I still felt responsible. When I'd sifted through the memories of what he'd done this morning while I'd been asleep, I'd noted his reluctance to actually eat anything in front of the Avengers; and his conclusion to simply wait until I pushed some food his way. I'd practically agreed to go along with that, then forgotten about my end of the bargain. Brilliant, Natalie. Just Brilliant.

"Come on," I said, heading towards the elevator. I hadn't eaten either, now that I thought about it, but that wasn't so uncommon for me. I jammed my finger on the button, and the two of us went inside, Loki standing beside me as I ran through Midgardian food that would _not _make him retch in my head.

When we left the elevator and arrived in the kitchen, none of the other Avengers were there. I contemplated just ditching Loki there and leaving him to fend for himself, but decided against it; not the greatest ideas, considering what Clint or Natasha or even Tony might do if they saw him there alone.

I yanked open the fridge and cupboard doors, scanning everything. Thor, I knew, had a curious affinity for Pop Tarts; but I had a sneaky suspicion that Loki would turn his nose up at anything that his brother liked. Steve liked hot chocolate, Tony was addicted to donuts… but what the hell did Loki eat that wasn't prison food? I mean, I was pretty well acquainted with his tastes, but that was all Asgardian stuff; the best equivalent of those lavish, gourmet meals that we had here was a chicken that was stuffed into the back of the fridge; and chicken wasn't really Loki's thing, anyway. He was a bit more of a vegetarian.

Loki hovered at my shoulder as I gestured helplessly to the inside of the cupboard. "Anything you like the look of?"

He scanned the titles on the boxes and cans, the food turning cold in the fridge… And eventually just shrugged carelessly. I rolled my eyes, then cracked and just decided to make some toast. And a salad, 'cause contrary to that skinny frame, I knew this dude could have an appetite.

"Bear in mind," I told him as I pulled out the bread, "I get my cooking skills from my mother's side of the family. So don't expect anything too fancy."

He said nothing, but he knew there was truth in my words. I was a slightly better cook than my mother, but considering her rather impressive ability to set fire to everything-including ice cream- that wasn't saying a whole lot. I could skate by on making the basics, but no one could expect a full-course meal out of me.

I set off to make the toast while Loki sat down at the table. I tuned him out a bit as I worked, not really caring what he was doing: just leaving him to his own devices. When the Avengers were not around, I could leave him alone a lot more, give him a little bit more room, more space, more freedom. When they _were _around, I had to keep a super-close eye on him; because if _I _didn't, _they_ would. And they saw hostile intent everywhere, in _every_ _little action_. By keeping my eye on him all the time, I was forcing myself to be the lesser of two evils, really.

But, for now at least, I knew Loki wasn't planning anything. I knew that there was no malice, no malignance in these everyday motions and movements. He was just Loki, getting breakfast. Asgardians need to eat too, people.

Still, if one of the Avengers walked in right now, they'd probably get all freaked out. I wasn't looking directly at Loki, not anymore, my mind on other things as opposed to just him. I'd know if he chose to do something as stupid as run away-which he wouldn't-so it didn't matter, anyway.

I finished the salad as the toaster _ding_ed. Setting the bowl of greens in front of him, my nose wrinkled. I'd been eating healthier lately, due to the fact that I was sick of the pizza that Tony's Seriously Old Joke was stuffing down my throat, but even after eating a _lot _of greens, it still tasted like I was mowing a lawn with my teeth. I finished the toast and pulled out a bowl and some cereal for myself.

For a while, we ate in silence, sitting at opposite ends of the table; then I swallowed and, nudging a few cheerios around the edge of the bowl, asked, "So, anything in particular that you want, or should I just go with my instinct?"

He didn't need to ask to know that I was talking about the clothes. He contemplated that for a moment, chewing thoughtfully, but when he swallowed, he shook his head. "It does not matter. Do what you wish."

I lifted an eyebrow. A mean little smile found its way onto my face. "You're giving _me _free reign of what _you _wear?" I leaned on my elbow, a little closer to him. "And exactly how smart do you think _that_ is?"

"You chose the shirt well enough," he answered, his voice toneless as he gestured vaguely to the green shirt on his form. "There will, of course, be consequences should you fail."

"Of course," I replied with mock-sincerity. "Can't have the Trickster wearing a lovely pink, Hawaiian flower-print shirt now, can we?" I closed my eyes. "Ah, yes. That disturbing mental picture shall indeed never leave me for as long as I live."

"Agreed."

I grinned at him. He gave me a little look in return; since our fight earlier this morning, he'd gotten a lot quieter, more contemplative. His anger, too, had been quelled, had dissipated following our little 'training' session, and now he was left with nothing but his cold, calculating thoughts, his emotions no longer touching the clearer parts of his mind.

"You have your battle armor readily available, though, correct?" I inquired, though I was certain this was the case.

"Naturally."

He'd always been able to kinda magic up his armor; I was still a little rusty as to how all of that worked, despite everything. I had a pretty good idea of most magic, but being a 'mortal', I couldn't possibly understand _everything _about how it worked.

"I just don't think that's a good thing to wear while sparring," I mused after a moment, stirring my cereal, making it go round and round in a little whirlpool, barely thinking about it. "Especially with the helmet. I mean, that sucker just looks gnarly sometimes."

"It _is _a war helmet, Miss Frost," he pointed out, still very calm and composed.

I scowled. "So is everyone else's; Thor's, Odin's, Heimdal's, all the others. Yours just looks a bit more… twisted."

"Psychological warfare, as you have so frequently mentioned, and so fervently _believe_, is as much a part of battle as the sword."

Oh-ho. Little Frostbite was using my own stuff against me again. "Yes," I acknowledged, "But you're not _really _fighting with the Avengers right now, are you? No. You're working _with _them. Training _with _them. Save the psych warfare for Fraye."

He scoffed very quietly. "I highly doubt something so trivial will intimidate a destroyer of worlds."

"Touché."

The two of us fell into silence; as usual, it wasn't anywhere near uncomfortable. None of the Avengers disturbed us, which was good, because it was surreal enough to be sitting next to Loki while he ate toast _without _them; I could only begin to imagine what it would be like if they started staring as badly as I knew I was. It was just so… _odd. _Like when Thor came over to my house and sat in my living room in full medieval garb, war hammer and all, with the TV right next to him and my laptop a few feet away. See, _that_ is weird.

Well, this was a _little_ easier, seeing as Loki was in Midgardian clothes, but it was still strange. There were times when the two worlds- _my _two worlds- clashed badly. This was definitely one of those times.

I cleared up the dishes while Loki stood beside me- I'd lost another video game war with Tony and had to do the dishes anyway- and turned back to him, drying off my hands with a dish towel.

"So." I said, ticking things off on my fingers. "The plan, as it now stands: get an Avenger to baby-sit you, go shopping, come back, get you a weapon…" He gave me a look. "What?" I demanded. "You're going to need one. How else are you supposed to fight Fraye? Or, more to the point, how are you even supposed to train?"

His eyes glinted as he held his pale hand forwards, clenched in a fist; he opened it, long, thin fingers pressed together, palm up, and fire sparked into life across it, dancing and weaving, a small but ferocious light. "Must it be asked?"

I scowled. "That's not going to be enough." I gestured to the flames. "_That _is useless as an offensive weapon, and what deadly magic you have in your arsenal should probably _not _be used in close quarters, around your allies. That leaves you with nothing but your tricks and, of course, personal fighting skills; and that's not going to be so effective against certain Avengers in a sparring match."

He extinguished the flames with a flourish, lowering his loosely-clenched fist to his side. "You are aware of this, and I am aware of this, but I highly doubt that the Avengers will listen to either of us."

"Thor knows, too," I cut in. "Two of us vouching for you getting a weapon should be enough. Particularly if it's _us. _I mean, come on. We're the _picture _of innocence."

Despite the reference to his brother, a glint ran through Loki's eye. "_You?_" He questioned, the barest hint of skepticism in that single word; and yet, the incredulity bled through nonetheless.

I gave him a sharp look, re-considered, then rolled my eyes, nodding. "Fair enough." I picked my purse up from where I'd draped it over my chair and slung it over my shoulder instead. "But Thor is an Avenger. They listen to their own."

The bitterness that managed to escape my chest and latch itself onto those words did not slip Loki's notice. As the two of us left the room together, he kept his eyes on me, studying me… but then he looked forwards again. He knew my opinion on the Avengers, knew how badly I'd once wished to be one of them … knew that I'd had the right to call myself one at a point in time long ago…

And he knew that it was his fault that I never could.

It was one of the many things that I had given up to keep this link with Loki; the chance to become one of the heroes I so admired. Those words had never been spoken out loud, it had never been _said_ to me that I could not be an Avenger because of Loki, but that much was-and had always been- extraordinarily clear to me. The only time that it had been said that I'd earned the right to call myself an Avenger (according to Tony and Steve) had been _before _I'd clued them into the fact that I was keeping Loki in my head for the rest of my life. They'd never retracted the statement, but I didn't expect them to _stick _by it, either.

But it was ok. I was content with what I was; their 'shrink', their friend. An honorary Avenger, if I had to be; and I'd kick butt on Fraye with the rest of them. But I wasn't exactly… _one _of them. How could I be, if one of their greatest enemies knew my every thought, knew everything that they said to me, knew all of our battle tactics, our strategies?

How could they trust me, if they knew I was a spy?

The two of us went to the elevator; I handed custody of Loki over to the first Avenger I found- and I made certain that Avenger was Banner- before skipping off out of the room and heading to the store, already planning things in my mind, trying to match things that were closest to his usual wear. Tony tried to stop me before I made it out; he didn't want Loki planning anything without me there to warn everyone. I answered that I could still call them, and besides that, the most powerful Avengers were still in the Tower, and could kick his ass if needed. Clint joined the party, saying that this was a luxury we couldn't afford, what with Fraye out on the loose, but eventually I convinced them both that it would be best for everyone if Loki didn't have to depend on borrowing everyone else's clothes. _That_ was bound to lead to a whole mess of awkward.

As I set off on my less-than-epic quest, Loki sat in the corner of the room with Banner, his eyes closed. He was seated, as usual, on the floor; it seemed that the Trickster did not believe in such petty things as 'furniture'. Unless there was a throne involved. He definitely believed in those.

He turned his thoughts inward, trying to ignore the fatigue that was weighing heavily on his mind. He hated admitting it, but he knew from experience how utterly exhausting fear could be. And fighting it was often even more so. Quite honestly, he was tempted to simply return to his room and fall asleep until I returned; but nervous energy was in his blood, making it hard for him to remain in the perfectly still, seated position he was in. It did not matter how tired he was; there was too much at stake for him to allow himself sleep.

Instead, Loki delved into the darkest corners of his mind, searching the thoughts that he buried there. Seeing as I was no longer paying attention to him and what he was doing, and he was not paying attention to me or what _I _was doing, he had no qualms with dredging up these dark secrets, bringing them to light. I would not notice, after all; my mind was too preoccupied with other things.

But he had wanted to search those memories again, those times in which Fraye had him. He wanted to see if there was something, anything at all, that he had missed; perhaps something that he would have thought irrelevant at the time, something that would not have seemed prevalent in the days before he had met me. Something that, perhaps, _I _could use, even though he could not. Our battle tactics, after all, varied quite greatly. And while he stood by his assertion that psychological warfare was not the best way to fight Fraye- and, indeed, that it was a complete waste of time- he also knew that I would not let it rest. And he was full aware that this was how I beat my enemies; by understanding them. Even if I could not fight them from the inside out, I could still figure out other, very important things from understanding their minds. After all; I'd correctly identified Banner as the Hulk after spending only a short time with him. Granted, the options of who he could be were limited, but it was still mildly impressive.

Loki kept his eyes closed. It was another battle, to force himself to re-live the moments, to force himself to imagine himself in that place again, going through the movements, step by painful step. But it was a battle he had to face sooner or later; Fraye could come back at any time, after all.

He had no time for weakness.

He took a long, slow, deep breath through his nose, his legs folded, his hands resting on his knees Loki, being an illusionist, had always been able to turn that ability inwards, to paint pictures of things that had passed so vividly in his mind, so that he could see those details that he had once missed, so that he could hear those things that had slipped his notice once before... Imagining himself in another time, another place, the world seemed to dim and fade around him, and the memory seized hold…

_He was standing on the ashes of a ruined planet, a broken world. A place long dead, with nothing but the whispering of ghosts to stir the black and grey cinders that lay scattered across the ground. A world burnt to nothing._

_At least __**here**__, the world was burnt; far away, in a long-dead city, there had been bodies, old and bloodied, skeletal screams still ringing silently in the still air. Bodies of those who had tried to escape, those clinging to loved ones when they realized it was futile, those begging and pleading for mercy that would never come… _

_Loki had seen much of this world in his search for the Shadow Child, the one that the Jotuns so greatly feared. He had decided to abandon this search if he did not find her here; he had wasted too much time chasing shadows, pursuing a legend. But he had been so sure, so __**certain **__that she was real, that these myths were more than what they appeared to be… and if this was, indeed, her handiwork, then she would make an impressive ally… or a formidable foe. _

_But Loki was not called the Silver Tongue for nothing. When he spoke, people listened. They fell in love with his honeyed words, his sugared lies that coiled themselves around their hearts, which drew them towards him. This one would be no different, he was confident. He could convince her to work with him, if she did indeed exist. He could persuade her to seize control of Midgard, to use her powers in his favor. There had to be something that she loved, something that she wanted above all else, and he could promise her that, could give her anything she desired… if she would only be loyal long enough to take Midgard, he could promise anything…_

"_Blood, my little Laufeyson."_

_Loki, startled, whirled to the sound of the noise, disturbing the ashes of the dead, stirring up clouds which lingered at his feet in the manner of silent phantoms. Something rattled at his shoes; pebbles and stones, all black and grey with the occasional bleach-bone-white rock. All of them buried beneath the dusting of ash and cinders, the powder that coated the world. _

_He glanced up from the stones at his feet and saw the woman standing there. _

_Death clung to her; that much was obvious from the first glance. It held her tightly within its skeletal arms, cradling her in its care, clutching her possessively. She belonged to Death, walked in the land of the living through some grim flaw, some mistake that had been made. Her skin was as pale as parchment, stretched taut over sharp joints and hollow ribs, her fingers small and skeletal. A tattered black cloak poured down from her shoulders and sashayed around the ground, stirring up shadows. Her hair, similarly black, was perhaps the healthiest thing about her; full and half-shining, it framed her face perfectly; a face that was as emaciated as the rest of her. Dull, dead, pitch-black eyes stared at him without light, without warmth and without depth. There was a twisted smile on her face, the smile of one with nothing to lose, the smile of a demented mind, a mind filled with pure insanity… but those eyes held nothing. That smile did not touch them; they remained lifeless. _

_She wore a black dress that flowed down past her knees; a formal garment, for a place such as this, and in a very clearly Asgardian style. There were no shoes on her bare feet; they showed, starkly white, against the black ash. _

"_You wish to know what I want?" She went on. Her voice was high, lilting, musical. A beautiful voice for such a grim, sorry figure. "Blood, my little Laufeyson. I want blood. I want Death to reign over this universe, with Chaos its queen, Destruction its mistress." She laughed; it was a strangely happy laugh, at odds and disjointed from her words. _

_Loki scanned her up and down, studying her for a long moment. But then he smiled in turn; a cold, cruel smile. "And you would be…?" As though he did not already know. As though he was not even now planning on how best to turn that blind craving for chaos towards the Earth. _

_She flicked her hair out behind her shoulders, a gesture sharply at odds with the grave scene surrounding her. She seemed too calm, too relaxed, too pleased around the ruin and rubble. "A Jotun believes as a Jotun will; I am your 'Shadow Child', the same one you hoped to find when you came here." She smiled now again; her teeth somehow whiter than her skin, than her pale lips. "And I know why you have come."_

"_Do you now?" Loki inquired, aloof, casual, as though this could possibly matter less… but in truth, it unnerved him. She had already called him a 'Jotun'. That was not such a worry; it was said that the shadows could see through all lies, even ones that the liar himself believed to be true. He had suspected that she would guess his true nature before he told her. _

_But she had also mentioned his name, without being told. And that __**was**__ cause for concern; particularly if she also already claimed to know his plans. _

_She grinned at him, a fierce, wild grin, filled with insane, mad, hysterical joy… but her eyes were still as dead as the world on which they stood. "But of course, my little Laufeyson. You are one of those few who have just enough courage and idiocy to seek me out; who believe that they can reason with me, can use me to achieve their goals." Her head tilted to the side, almost in curiosity, like an animal observing something that had held its fancy. A fox, perhaps, studying a mouse. "But people like you simply do not understand. I don't destroy things because I want to, because I wish to. I don't do these things in the name of a reason. I do them because I must. Because the universe must scream." There was an intensity on her face now, but still nothing in her eyes. "The stars must bleed, the suns extinguished, all worlds and all life destroyed. I must see everything covered in blood." She had been walking towards him, step by careful step; Loki held his ground, meeting her gaze evenly, refusing to be intimidated. This was not difficult; the girl looked frail, pathetic. Easily dispatched should she get out of line. _

_No, this could not be the Shadow Child that the Frost Giants had so feared. This was some trick; an imposter, a mad girl who thought herself a legend. Nothing more. _

"_This is my Reason. My Reason for existing, my Reason for life itself. I live so that everything else will die. So why would I serve you, why would I serve __**your **__reason?"_

_Loki half-smiled. All right. He would play along with her little games, would play pretend that she was something more than she so clearly was. "You wish for destruction to fall in either case. Why not simply direct it towards Midgard?"_

_She laughed again; a loud, echoing sound that split the air, a melodic note that danced among the clouds and howled towards the silver moon above. As her laughter died off and his eyes stayed on her, she began to circle him slowly, carefully, predatorily. "If I did do such a thing, you would not be as happy as you have led yourself to believe." Her shining white teeth gleamed in the silver moonlight, flashing bright and sharp as she vanished behind him once more, still circling… her hands were suddenly on his shoulders, running downwards as her arms wrapped gently around his neck in an oddly affectionate gesture. One pale hand broke away from him to motion towards the ashen world surrounding them, and she whispered directly into his ear, her voice still filled with laughter. "It is impossible to rule over a dead planet," she said, her breath tickling against his skin. "Believe me. I've tried."_

_And then the pain struck; it was the first time of many. Searing, burning, horrific fire blazed on the back of his neck, and Loki cried out, dropping to his knees. The agony blinded him as the Shadow Child released him, allowing him to fall. She completed her circle, so that she now stood in front of him once more, and she dropped down in front of him, placing two fingers beneath his chin so that she could force his face up to hers. _

"_I think you need to learn something of humility," She said with a bright smile. It was such a striking contrast with her words, with the pain that was now bleeding down his spine, rolling down in trembling waves of electricity and molten rock. "You have to understand, Loki, that you came here of your own free will; but so few have the audacity to do such a thing. And that makes you very, very special." She giggled; it was such a girlish, childlike sound that it should have been impossible to seem so nightmarish… and yet, it locked Loki's muscles in place, forged his bones together, so that he could no longer move… Fear was alive within him, a foreign sensation, an emotion so often banished…_

"_It's been a while since I've had a new little plaything," She noted as the darkness started to close around his eyes. "And you show some promise." _

_A new pain stabbed through his spine, brighter and hotter than the first, a shadow lashing across his back… _

"Oh," Banner's voice startled Loki out of the memory; a shiver floated from head to toe as he was faced with the real world, a world that was safer, a world more at peace than the blackness in his mind… his eyes flicked open as Banner went on, in a tone far too kind and gentle to be addressing _him, _"Hey, you. What are _you_ doing on this floor, huh?"

Loki's eyes went to Banner, who was looking at something on the ground. Loki followed his gaze and saw Jekyll there, wrapping himself around the doctor's legs, his tail swishing back and forth, thumping against Banner a few times. Banner, obviously having been distracted from his work by the furry animal, knelt down next to him and ran his fingers under Jekyll's chin, then down his back. "Natalie feed you yet?" He asked, as though honestly expecting an answer.

Loki glanced around the room and found the open door that Jekyll must have entered through. He knew that the mutt had been spending a majority of its time at the Tower since the attack- and spending his nights wherever I was- and that he liked to travel from room to room, floor to floor, following whoever caught his interest, even into the elevator. I usually fed him later in the afternoon, sometimes having to find him in the maze of floors and rooms by asking JARVIS for help. We'd all gotten used to the animal's presence in the Tower; but it was the first time that Loki had ever seen the dog face-to-face.

A vague sense of unease prickled at the back of his neck. Jekyll's reaction to Fraye had been immediate; it was said that dogs had good intuition, and since linking with me, Loki found that he could believe it. Jekyll was typically a good judge of character. And if he reacted against Loki, then the Avengers would only become all the more suspicious.

Too late to avoid it; Jekyll noticed him at the other end of the room and abandoned Banner, padding over to him softly. Seeing as Loki was still sitting on the ground, Jekyll's gaze was perfectly even with his own; at least, until his head ducked down and he began sniffing the floor around the Trickster. After a moment, he seemed satisfied that he'd gotten all of the interesting smells from the ground and turned instead to Loki himself… the Norse god of Mischief blinked at him. It was mildly strange, that this animal had never seen him before, considering all of the times that he had seen Jekyll; the link really did screw with our heads sometimes.

Slowly, carefully, Loki reached out a hand. There was nothing for it; Jekyll would be around me for a majority of the time, regardless. The dog would have to become used to him one way or another.

Jekyll sniffed the proffered hand with a strange intensity, as though it was the most interesting thing on the earth. His ears lifted just slightly, curiosity shining in his bright eyes as he walked a little closer, still sniffing at Loki's hand.

And then his big, pink tongue swiped itself across Loki's palm; the Trickster recoiled, but Jekyll didn't seem discouraged in the slightest. Tail wagging happily, he barged right towards Loki, the dog's face less than an inch from his, sniffing him again. Loki, still sitting on the floor, pushed the mutt back a bit, but Jekyll eagerly pushed back, his tongue now lolling out, a dog-like grin on his face.

"Very well!" Loki exclaimed, exasperated, and ran his hands over Jekyll's fur. The mutt sat down, content now that someone was giving him attention, his tail still thwacking against whatever was in close proximity. Loki stroked the fur back on his head, shaking his own head back and forth slowly, though secretly he was relieved. Jekyll seemed to have taken an instant liking to him; the second Loki stopped petting him, he'd nudge the Trickster's hand until he pet him again.

Banner watched the little interaction without comment, but after a moment, his eyes went to the gash on Jekyll's side. Loki's followed a moment later, and the corner of his lip turned down. The Shadow Wound that ran along his side and curled down onto his paw was a particularly nasty one; and was indeed infected.

Loki gently pushed on Jekyll's shoulders until the animal lay down on the floor, then rolled onto his back, paws sticking up in the air. Loki scratched his stomach for a moment, then eased the animal onto his side, so that he could get a better view of the injury. He pressed his cold fingers against it; Jekyll whined quietly, but didn't move in the slightest as Loki closed his eyes, focusing the magical energy that flowed in his blood, forcing it to his fingertips. He reached out, searching for the shadows inside the wound…

Found them.

Grasping the twisting, writhing shadows carefully with his own energy, his own magic, Loki gently teased the darkness away, coaxed it out of the wound… it wrapped around his hand like a curl of smoke, drifting across his fingertips… Jekyll whined sharply as the shadow kept coming out of the scarred surface in a thin strand, a thread that seemed endless… but then the shadow curled up in Loki's palm, the strand cut and cradled against his fingertips. He crushed the darkness beneath his fingers, and it dissipated into nothing, returning into simple, harmless shade, no longer poisonous, and bound to follow the orders that light gave.

He sat back, his mouth suddenly dry, his thoughts suddenly thick and viscous, slow and sluggish. Shadow manipulation of any sort was a very difficult kind of magic; he had been quite proud of himself when he'd first learned to bend the darkness to his will, even in such small quantities. The same could be said about telepathy; a nigh impossible form of magic to master, though he'd always had an aptitude for it, as evidenced by our connection. But Fraye had both of these things mastered so completely; it was a truly terrifying thought, if he allowed himself to think it.

But for the moment, he could _not _allow himself to do such things. Loki gently smoothed out the fur on Jekyll's side, running his cold fingers over the somewhat-healed wound, and Jekyll lifted his head upright to look at him. He licked Loki's hand carefully, and despite the look of disgust that twisted his face, the Trickster scratched him carefully behind his ears.

"Good dog," he sighed the words out, as though irritated that he was forced to say them. Jekyll placed his head back on the ground, perfectly relaxed. Stupid animal. Why I was so attached to the creature, he would never know. Mortals and their pets… it was utterly ridiculous…

"He likes you," Banner noted carefully, leaning against one of the tables. Loki glanced up and realized that the doctor was still watching him. Loki sat back, sitting perfectly upright, his spine absolutely straight. He did not respond to Banner's comment, but rather continued to stroke Jekyll's side absently. Jekyll shifted positions, standing so that he could lie down closer to Loki, curling up on the floor next to him; Loki couldn't stop the ever-so-small smile that crossed his face. Well, at the very least, the animal trusted him. That was something.

He closed his eyes again, blocking out Banner, blocking out the world, his hand still resting on Jekyll. He turned his thoughts back to the memory he had just relived, back to that which he had been focusing on before this interruption. Fraye had said some things that would definitely interest me, things that Loki had mostly dismissed, abandoned when he had thrown aside all thoughts of her.

First and foremost: _'It is impossible to rule over a dead planet. Believe me. I've tried.'_

It alluded to something; what that 'something' was, he was uncertain. He re-scanned his thoughts, sifted through the memory again, picking apart the finer details…

Jekyll's cold, wet nose pressed against his wrist, pulling him out sharply. The dog's tail wagged as Loki gave him a mild glare, removing his hand from Jekyll's side. He twisted in his spot, turning around so that he was no longer facing the animal. He closed his eyes again, thinking back to the things that Fraye had said…

Fraye was a force of nature. Why should she try to rule over a planet that she had destroyed? Why would a hurricane linger over the chaos it had wreaked, why would a storm hover above the shattered remains of the city it had reduced to rubble?

Jekyll's paw was suddenly on his knee, claws digging in deep without meaning to. Loki jumped, his eyes snapping open again, then narrowing on the dumb animal. Now it was becoming a nuisance. Jekyll's tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth, lips stretched in a happy canine grin as his tail went back and forth. Banner was watching the two of them with some amusement, fighting a smile. Loki ignored him, focusing instead on the big, furry problem at hand.

Looking Jekyll in the eye, Loki snapped his long fingers, simultaneously pointing in another direction, throwing his arm out to that same direction; the other side of the room. It was _my _gesture for 'go'; and Jekyll recognized it. His ears flattened, and he whined; Loki snapped and pointed again, and Jekyll walked off, clearly reluctant.

Loki watched the animal leave, then closed his eyes again. Honestly. These creatures were more of a nuisance than they were of any use… though Jekyll had saved my life, and he supposed he should be grateful…

A warm, heavy weight plopped down behind him, pressing up against his back; Loki started, then turned to find Jekyll lying directly behind him, his big eyes staring up at the Trickster, nose high in the air as his head tilted back so that he could see Loki's face. The tip of his tail thumped the ground once. Banner was hiding laughter by now, disguising himself behind one of the screens; Loki ignored him pointedly, giving Jekyll a hard stare… Jekyll's tongue shot out, trying to lick Loki's face, but he pulled back just in time to avoid the onslaught of dog slobber.

He turned around again, sighing through his nose and closing his eyes again; he heard Jekyll yawn massively, a high-pitched whine slipping out of him as he did so, and the dog settled down even further behind him, curling up in a tight ball, remaining directly behind Loki.

Giving up on trying to shoo the mutt away, Loki closed his eyes a final time, delving back into the memories once more.

As for me… Well, I had long ago made it to the store, and was searching for trench coats by the time something interesting happened. I figured trench coats were about the closest thing Loki was going to get to Asgardian wear; though it was a daunting task to try and guess at what other clothes he might like. I might have been well acquainted with his tastes, but there was very little in this store-or any of the others that I could think of off the top of my head- that would fit with those tastes.

I sighed to myself as I draped an awesome-looking black coat into the cart. There was plenty here that _I _thought he'd look good in, but I was trying to stick with his usual green-and-black theme, and to abide by _his _preferences. Not the easiest of tasks; Loki was very picky.

"Natalie?"

I jumped, whirling around, my ponytail swishing about on my neck as I turned to the voice. Immediately, my hands clenched in fists, my eyes crackling as they scanned the area for exits, for defensible positions, for any innocent bystanders who might get hurt. But this was not Fraye's voice; nor Loki's, nor any other known enemy, and as I zeroed in on a familiar face, I realized why. The reason the voice fit no enemy was because it _was _no enemy; it was a friendly, and _not _an Avenger. A rarity in my life, but it happened on occasion.

"Benny!" I exclaimed, at the same time pleasantly surprised and completely mortified. I was glad to see him, considering I hadn't laid eyes on him since I'd been forced to drop out of my one on-campus class this semester; but I was drop-dead embarrassed that he saw me dressed the way I was, and buying men's clothes. I tugged my fingerless glove upwards, trying to keep the Key covered.

Maybe I should explain. You know that guy you see everyday in class? The one with the infectious little laugh, who you've been friends with for a while now, and who can always make you laugh when you've had a really crappy day? The one that you have had a secret crush on since you laid eyes on him, but you know that there's no way it's going to work out between you, because one of you is moving soon, or your future college plans don't correlate, or you have a crazy Asgardian in your brain and you've pretty much given up on the idea of love because of him? Well, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't know about the last one, but you get the idea.

Well, Benjamin- or as I called him, 'Benny'- was definitely _that guy. _He smiled at me, his perfectly white smile that always made my heart skip a beat. He was wearing a dark blue shirt with black pants, a very loose black tie, and a black fedora; and, I have to say, he looked great in it. The blue offset his similarly-colored eyes perfectly; those eyes that could put the Norse god of Thunder's to shame. Why everyone in my life had to look so damn beautiful, I'd never know…

He was tall, lanky, and had thick brown hair that stuck out from underneath the fedora just perfectly… I thought of how I looked, with my hair pulled back in a no-nonsense, business-style ponytail, thought of the baggy camo pants, the lack of jewelry and makeup… and then I forced myself to _stop _thinking of that. It was stupid. And it just made my face go hot.

He gave me a greeting hug, and I hugged him back. We'd been friends for ages, though we'd only recently gotten semi-close. Not that I was really 'close' to any normal person these days; it was too easy for them to get hurt, to get killed. I'd learned that lesson the hard way, but no one could say that I hadn't learnedit nonetheless.

"That's… a lot of clothes," he noted with a grin, gesturing to my cart. Oh, dear gravy.

"Ah… it's for a friend of mine," I thought quickly. "He just flew in from another country, and they lost his luggage, so he's kinda desperate for new threads."

That's right, I just thought of that at the top of my head. I was learning to lie a _lot _better these days: living la Vida Loki certainly has its perks.

"Ah, bummer," he said, still smiling. My heart was starting to melt into a puddle of goo; damn crushes. They seem fun and happy and innocent, but they can _kill. _"So what's going on with you and school, huh? You haven't been coming to class anymore." His head tilted just the slightest bit to the side, a vague sense of curiosity lingering in those sea-blue eyes. I shrugged.

"Eh. You know how it is. My job got in the way this semester. I missed too many days, had to drop out." My few school friends were well aware about how taxing and crazy my 'job' could be; many times, I'd been forced to reschedule meetings and study groups and everything else, and oftentimes at the last minute.

"Ah, yes. Your elusive 'job'." His eyes twinkled. Everyone I knew was told that I worked for the government; they weren't told exactly what I _did, _but the words 'working for the government' did permit me to put a big _'classified' _stamp on any awkward questions they might ask. On the downside, it had prompted Benny to make a guess as to what, exactly, my job might be. Every time we met, he had a new idea; each one usually crazier than the last. Of course, none of them could be so crazy as the truth. "I'll figure out what it is some day."

"If you do, your perception of the universe will never be the same," I warned him in my best mock-ominous tone.

He smirked. "I'm sure." He looked around. "So, this friend of yours, he here with you?"

Did he ever leave? I rolled my eyes, but shook my head. "Nah. He's in another store; just wanted me to pick up a few coats for him."

"He's got some pretty pricy tastes," Benjamin noted, glancing at the tags.

"Hey, it ain't _my _money," I blew it off. He grinned; crisis averted. It was probably a lie; I didn't exactly want to ask Fury to reimburse me for Loki's suits, S.H.I.E.L.D. business or not. But I had more pressing concerns than money right now, anyway; and my paycheck could cover it.

Benny looked down to his feet, shuffling a little. "Hey, listen, Natalie… now that you're here…" He bit his lip. I'll admit, I got a _teensy weensy _little tiny _itty bitty_ bit lost in the gesture. I blinked, shaking myself out of crush-mode. I was his friend first. I was his friend beyond anything else. I couldn't afford for us to be anything else; I mean, what was I going to do? Go on a date with a guy with _Loki _in my brain?

"There's something I've been meaning to ask you," he admitted, running his hand over the back of his neck. "And, you know, seeing as you skipped out this semester, I never really had the chance."

I lifted an eyebrow. "Shoot," I said easily, shifting my weight to my right foot, tugging my glove upwards.

He looked at me; a stupid little smile came on his face as he laughed nervously. "Erm… this is kinda awkward, but…" He rubbed the back of his neck again, his sea-blue eyes darting to the ground. "Would you ever want to… you know, maybe… go out for coffee sometime?"

I blinked. He shuffled again and added, "You know. Without the others? Just you and me?"

The 'others' would be the group of friends that I usually hung out with whenever I was at college; friends in the normal world, friends away from the Avengers. Friends that I could study with, friends that I could moan about homework with, friends that, in Benny's case, I could form secret crushes on. Friends that I could have girl talk with, or just chat with online. Normal friends.

Friends who were _not _superheroes.

Friends who I could never be close to.

Friends who broke way too easily.

My heart started fluttering. _Yes, _it screamed, louder and louder, slamming against my rib cage, trying to get to Benny. _Yes, yes, yes, yes, __**yes!**_

My brain, however, overrode my heart's screaming, sending out pulsing answers of its own; _no. Hell no. It won't work. Loki won't allow it. Your __**life **__won't allow it. Don't do this. Don't let yourself get hurt like that again. _

The two responses made it to my mouth and clashed, melting together and spreading a bitter taste across my tongue, making it very, very dry. I swallowed. I knew what I had to say. I hated it, but I knew.

"I can't," I answered at last. Ben's face, which had been so filled with hope just moments before, fell. The shining light in those blue eyes died off. "Sorry, Benny."

"Oh." He said, disappointment very clear. "All right. That's cool. It's just… you know…" He looked down; his face was turning beet red. I wanted to apologize again, to say that I was horribly sorry, that I didn't want to hurt him, to explain everything. But I kept my mouth shut. Another thing I'd gotten good at.

Finally, he seemed to gather his thoughts together enough to ask, "Why?"

I lifted my eyebrows. He went on, "I mean… I really thought… and Jade said…"

"_Jade?_" I snapped onto the word. _Jade _had ratted me out? "That little rat _fink!_" I couldn't stop the words from slipping out. Jade was another of 'the group'; and not the best person to tell your darkest secrets to. Fortunately, this was _not _my darkest secret. Not even close.

Benny smiled a little, put more at ease by my reaction, which so clearly indicated that 1. She had been correct, and 2. This wasn't going to make things awkward between us. I was still acting like my normal self. "So, if she was telling the truth, then… you know. Why not?" He shrugged; back to _his _normal self, too. He was always very easy-going, laid back.

I looked down, studying my shoes, my brain scrambling at a thousand miles per hour to think of a good idea. "It's just… I have…"

'I have'? I have _what? _I have a job that gets in the way? I have to take care of my parents-particularly my sick father? I have 'issues'? I have a psycho Frost Giant in my head that likes to play around with my private thoughts?

My brain spun. _I _knew what the problems were, _I _knew why we couldn't go out, _I _knew why it was a bad idea… but how the hell was I supposed to explain _Loki, _the very symbol of all things strange and psychotic, to _Benjamin, _the very symbol of all things normal and sane?

When the answer hit me, I didn't think; I just blurted it out like an idiot. "I have a boyfriend!"

…Dear Mouth,

Why do you never listen to me?

Sincerely, Brain.

Benny blinked. Twice. "Oh!" He exclaimed. A bright smile lit up his face again, and he laughed awkwardly. "Well,_ I_ look like an idiot."

My face was turning beet red, I was absolutely certain of it. It was hot enough to fry an egg on the back of my neck, and a cold sweat was breaking out down my spine. I was beyond grateful that Loki was not currently paying attention to my situation; and absolutely terrified of what he would say when I got back to the Tower.

I was doomed.

"We haven't been going out long," I spun my lie quickly, weaving thread upon thread of my newfound deceit. I was gonna have to hang myself with it eventually, anyway; might as well make the rope thick enough to be useful. "It's just, we've been friends since we were kids, you know, and he finally came back to the U.S., and…" I bit my lip. I was absolutely on fire; from head to toe, I was burning up. I must have looked like a freaking lobster. Loki was going to kill me. He would _never _let me live this down.

Somewhere amid my crippling humiliation, though, I found myself surprised at how well the story actually went along with the truth of our situation; I _had _sort-of-known Loki since I was a child. He _did _just come to the U.S. He also just came to the _planet, _but that was another matter entirely. This was just a much tamer, much more 'real' version of our story. With one massively huge exception; the term 'boyfriend' wasn't even in the picture. There wasn't a _term _for 'mortal-enemies-who-actually-can't-kill-each-other -due-to-the-link-in-their-brains.'

"Ah," Benny nodded a few times, indicating his understanding. The smile was back on his face; this really wasn't going to become awkward. "I get it. What's his name?"

Shit. Just…shit. I scrambled for a name; anything that I could use to separate the situation, to make sure that it wasn't identified with Loki. I ran the Avengers' names through my mind, wondering if any of them would be willing to cover for me if I got caught in this; if I gave one of their names, it would explain a lot about why I was hanging out with them so often. And the whole 'boyfriend' excuse would explain away a lot more than my job did, too…

I couldn't think. I couldn't think of anyone who'd be willing to cover for me, anyone who could react well under the pressure of suddenly learning about my lie… well, maybe Tony, but that was out; his relationship with Pepper was pretty much public… After a moment, I threw out the idea of using one of the Avengers and simply tried to find a random name: I could bluff my way through it later, make them up completely instead of using a real person.

"Loki," I answered.

…Dear Brain,

I do what I want.

Sincerely, Mouth.

"Ah, cool," Benjamin was still smiling. He had no idea about the mental tortures I was going through right now. I could just see Loki's face… if he didn't just kill me the second I walked through the door, then he was definitely going to use this as some serious blackmail later. My stomach twisted violently; I was suddenly very certain that I was going to retch. But I kept my manner perfectly calm and composed.

"Yeah," I said, shuffling a little, anxious. "Still friends though, right?" I double-checked.

He laughed, slinging his arm around my shoulder. "As if we could ever be anything but," He said cheerfully. "Hope it works out for you two."

"Yeah, me too." The lie tasted like acid in the back of my throat; burning and bright and painful.

"But you should still swing by campus sometime," Benny went on, releasing me from the half-hug, clearly bringing the conversation to a close. "We all miss you. We should get the group together again, go hang out at the café, or a restaurant or something."

I nodded. "Sounds great," I agreed, meaning it. "But I've been kinda… _involved _with work lately. This is the first time I've gotten out of there in like, ages." I rolled my eyes to convey my exasperation.

"Hmm…" He stroked his chin, pretending to think. "This thing really keeps you busy…" He snapped his fingers. "I know! You're an alien catcher, right? You track down ETs for the government!"

I rolled my eyes, but I was grinning. "Keep dreaming, Benny." I answered, turning back to my cart. "I'll see you later!"

He waved goodbye to me while I tried desperately tried to push the entire conversation out of my head. I was still shaking. I was dead. I was dead, I was dead, I was so freaking _dead. _

I hurried through the rest of the store, finishing my job in a rush, trying to keep my focus away from my conversation with Benjamin, though I knew it was pointless.

But Loki didn't really notice anything off for a long time; not until Steve entered the room where he, Jekyll, and Dr. Banner were all gathered with their respective tasks (or lack thereof).

The Captain's footsteps pulled him out of his introspection, and he glanced upward at him.

"Natalie back yet?" Steve's question was directed towards Bruce, but it was Loki who answered.

"Not yet," his reply was soft, nigh silent, forcing the Soldier to strain to hear. Steve glanced to him, then turned back to Banner pointedly.

"All right. When she gets back, I want everyone to suit up and meet in the training center." As Bruce nodded, Steve turned to Loki. Despite his earlier politeness, there was a razor's edge in the Soldier's words as he addressed the Trickster. "That includes you."

Loki, smiling softly, gave him a little nod; Rogers turned and stalked out of the room. Loki turned his attention to me, focusing on the whispers that lingered in the back of his mind… it did not take him long to realize how embarrassed I was, and it took even less time for him to find the cause. A slow, creeping smile threatened to take over his face.

_Not a word, _I growled the words out the instant I noticed he was there. _Not a damn __**word.**_

The smile stretched, but he said nothing. For now. He was certainly going to have some fun with that later, though. _Rogers wishes for us to meet in the training center upon your arrival. _

_Actually, his specific words were 'suit up' and meet there, _I pointed out. _More important than you'd think. _

He followed my line of thinking and nodded slowly. _Agreed. Though I fail to see how it pertains to __**you.**_

_Um… owch._ I said bitterly. I was very acutely aware that I had no suit, thank you very much; just like I was very acutely aware that I wasn't an Avenger_. Low blow there, man. _

_Merely an observation._

Loki blinked, only now noticing Banner's eyes on him once again. "Natalie will arrive in five minutes," he informed the Doctor coolly, then stood fluidly. Jekyll, disturbed by the motion, immediately got to his feet and padded after Loki, who stood and waited by the door for my arrival.

It took six minutes, not five, but it was close enough; I lugged in all of the shopping bags and met up with Loki on his floor.

On seeing me, Jekyll went absolutely berserk; which is kinda typical, for him. Overloaded as I was with shopping bags stuffed with clothing, it was kinda hard to deal with; Jekyll jumped up, placing his front paws on me, trying to lick my face, tail whipping back and forth.

"Ok, ok!" I laughed, overwhelmed, and allowed the bags to drop so that I could pet him a few times. "Sheesh, I missed you too, fuzz ball."

I gently forced him to put all four paws back on the ground, and he circled around me a few times, tripping me up as I tried to walk into the room. I looked to Banner. "I'm taking this stuff upstairs," I told him, gesturing to the plastic bags. "We'll meet you in the training center with the others, kay?"

He nodded. "Sure." While Bruce didn't technically _'train'_, he _did _watch _us _when we did. It helped the Hulk keep in touch with our fighting moves, without risking everyone's lives in the process. I wondered what Big Green would think about Loki being on our side this time around and had to hide a smile.

Jekyll ran a few more circles around me as I walked back to Loki, giving him a greeting nod. I swept up the bags as Jekyll sniffed me up and down a few times, then sniffed Loki, then sniffed me and Loki…

He got very stiff suddenly, skittering back a few steps from Loki. His ears went flat. He didn't growl, not exactly, but it was very clear from his every movement that something had him on edge, antsy, irritable. Loki noticed as well and frowned just slightly, following me out of the room. Jekyll followed, too, all but shoving Loki aside as he skipped up next to me, even more under my feet than usual.

"Chill out, would you?" I scolded him. He didn't seem to care, which was really irritating considering all of the stuff I was carrying and Loki's silent-but-blatant refusal to help.

The two of us-three, counting Jekyll- got to the elevator and went to our floor; the dog went absolutely crazy when we went into Loki's room; AKA my old room. With all of the kookiness that had happened the day before, Jekyll hadn't had a chance to realize that _my _room had been moved, that this was now _Loki's. _

He whined again as I dropped all of the bags onto Loki's bed, for him to sort through later. I turned to him. "What is your _problem, _fluff face?" He came up to me, tail still wagging, and pressed up against me, keeping his eyes locked on Loki. The Trickster studied him for a moment, mildly perplexed by the animal's behavior. I was more than _mildly _perplexed; Jekyll had been getting along so well with Loki just moments ago… what had changed?

"Crazy mutt," I grumbled, then turned to Loki, shoving aside these errant thoughts, focusing solely on the task at hand. "All right. Let's see what we can do with this."

Loki lifted a single eyebrow. He did not like how bossy I'd been getting lately. Well, _he _thought it was bossy. Personally, _I _was just aiming for 'no-nonsense', 'professional', and 'let's-get-this-out-of-the-way-before-any-other-cr ap-comes-up'.

But really, come on. I was _always _bossy.

"Please?" I tried, a little nicer. The other eyebrow arced upwards, but slowly, the air around him started to shimmer.

I always have been, and always will be impressed by the manner in which his battle armor appeared on him; the way his entire appearance seemed to change in a matter of moments, a subtle shine transforming everything about him, turning him into a warrior. It did not matter what he appeared as before- Midgardian, Asgardian, a man with power or a banished prince- whatever he was changed, it vanished in an instant, replaced by… _this._

Golden armor gleamed on his shoulders, his chest, his arms. That twisted helmet of the same color faded into existence, covering his perfectly styled black hair, framing his narrow cheekbones and bringing out something dangerous in his eyes. A deep, emerald-green cape flowed down from his shoulders, flickering briefly in a nonexistent wind.

But I wasn't here to be impressed by a few flashy effects, a fancy little party trick. I was here because I was _desperate _to make this look better. This may have been what Loki would be fighting Fraye in, but it would still be nigh impossible to train with the other Avengers while he looked… like _this._ Like the man who had tried to take over their world.

I looked him up and down, trying to think of a way to tone it down. He'd agreed to this without agreeing to it, had listened to and seen the validity in my thoughts. But now, it seemed, he was having doubts again.

"Helmet," I said immediately; he reached up and removed the twisted metal that crowned his head, tucking it under his arm. I frowned as Jekyll brushed up against my legs, whining again.

I was glancing at the golden armor on his shoulders, trying to think of how else to tone it down, when Loki gave me a cool, steady look.

"One way or another, Frost, the Avengers will not approve of me." He pointed out. "No matter how I look in reality, they shall see me as they shall see me. So why should I change? Why should I try to alter myself, knowing that it will not alter their perception of me?"

"You know why." He wouldn't have agreed to this if he didn't. We had to try. We had to make him look like less of a threat, at least to the Avengers, at least for now…

"But I also know that you should not worry about impossible things," he added, his voice soft, nigh silent, replacing the helmet back on his head. "The Avengers will see me as the Avengers see me. We can not change that."

I frowned. I knew he was right; and the fact that he'd even brought it up told me that he'd decided it best to not even bother; which meant that, no matter what I said, he wasn't going to change his appearance.

Sighing, I reached forwards, lifting my hand up to flick the golden helmet with a single fingernail. It clinked anticlimactically, the sound tiny and tinny and hollow. "Well, at least you'll be used to wearing it when the real fight comes," I muttered under my breath, trying to make myself feel better. "And you won't get more comfortable in Midgardian clothes than you are in your armor."

Loki gave me an _honestly-Frost-as-if-that-could-ever-happen _look, but he said absolutely nothing; he knew that I was just trying to console myself, more than anything else. I clapped my hands together. "Right, then!" I exclaimed. "If we can't fix that, then I think we at least need to lay down a few ground rules. Well, really, just one."

He moved his hands behind his back, long fingers encircling his wrist, fastening it there. He lifted an eyebrow, silently prodding me to continue; for some reason, I was suddenly very aware of how much taller he was than me, of how high he towered above me. I pushed that aside.

"_Be nice,_" I said firmly. _"_I_ know _that's hard, and I _know _that you're a pretentious ass by nature, but _please _oh please, for the love of all that is _sane _in the nine freaking realms, _please _just try and tone it down a bit?" I jabbed a finger into his chest; a finger I'm certain he contemplated breaking. "You are working _with _the Avengers, here. Any attempt at training is just an attempt to make you _better _at what you do, _not _a personal attack. And you have to do the same for them; constructive criticism should be _constructive. Helpful. _Not belittling, not arrogant, not irritating, not _anything but helpful._ Ok?"

He blinked; a faint little smile had appeared on his face, that eternal smirk of his, so smug and arrogant and just… ugh. Annoying as all hell. Even _I _wanted to wipe it off. But he complied. In a tone that made it very clear that he was merely going along with what I was saying because _he _wanted to, and for no other reason, he answered, "Very well."

"I'm _serious, _Loki."

"I give you my word," his eyes twinkled. I wasn't buying it. No, he wasn't lying, but he wasn't really telling the _truth, _either. Loki was going to be Loki; and if that meant that it would annoy the Avengers, too, then so be it.

This was going to be the longest training session _ever. _

But he knew the stakes. I trusted that he would pull back at least enough to keep himself on _this _side of the prison bars; at least enough to keep the Avengers from downright attacking him. He'd only be mildly prevocational; which was about as good as you could get from the Trickster.

"All right," I said, glancing down at myself. I'd dressed for training already, so there was really nothing I needed to do in terms of 'suiting up', as Loki had pointed out earlier. Remembering this, I winced as I turned away from him, heading to the door. But my voice betrayed nothing as I asked, "You coming?"

_Boyfriend?_

The word was spoken in my mind, thankfully, and not aloud; but I could still hear his amusement sparkling along it. I didn't even have to think, didn't blink, did absolutely nothing; I just whirled on him, finger pointed at his chest. My eyes crackled as I saw the smug, barely suppressed smile on his face. "_You're _the one who thinks I should lie better! That was a perfectly decent lie! One of my best, actually!"

That roguish smile grew a little. "Was it now?" He asked, turning the sharp points of my words back on me, suggesting far more than I'd intended on doing. I forced my head up high.

"Yes!" I insisted, nodding once to give my words a more decent punch. "I was caught off guard. Thrown completely off. I had to tell him _something, _and that was as good as anything!" I started ticking things off on my fingers, listing my reasons, reasons that I'd recited over and over again in my head for just this occasion. I was not unprepared, but my face was still burning hot as Loki's eyes kept twinkling, his white teeth flashing beneath a wicked grin.

"It'll keep him from asking me out again," I said quickly, going down the list of facts, numbering each pointedly on my fingers as I went. "At least for as long as I keep up the lie. It'll give me a better excuse for _all_ of my friends, not just him; I won't have to keep telling them that it's just my 'job' keeping me away." These things were true. They were cold, hard facts; they made sense. They all made perfect, resolute sense. But still embarrassment curdled in my gut, set a weight upon my chest, and pushed my gaze away from his with light, persuasive fingers. I couldn't look at him. I felt like such an _idiot._

"And if I had mentioned any of the others by name, and gotten caught in it later, they wouldn't have been able to cover for me. It's doubtful that I'll get caught in it with you, but if I _am,_ then you can cover. And you're a great liar yourself; you can sell it."

"Can I?" He asked, still smiling, still hiding laughter, still so amused by me and my childish human antics.

"I'd hope that you _would_," I said, forcing myself to look him in the eye now, to be almost accusatory, bristling dangerously. But at the sight of his smile, all of my bravado was sucked clean out of me, draining down through my toes, swirling in a black and broken whirlpool at my feet. But I forced myself to keep talking nonetheless; and to say something that I was sure he'd react positively to. "I don't trust anyone else to do it; you're the only one who's capable of it."

He knew I was stroking his ego, knew that it was an intentional thing, but he responded well to it nonetheless. He chuckled very quickly, the laughter spilling through his lips at last. "Ah. I see."

"Just… just roll with it, ok?" I asked, trying not to sound too much like I was begging as I pinched the bridge of my nose, pressing so hard on my eyes that bright flashes of color popped up in little gunshots behind them. "It'll make things easier for everyone."

His eyebrow quirked again. "And what do you plan on telling the Avengers?" He inquired, his words still twirling an intricate ballet with his desire to laugh.

"Diddly freaking squat, that's what. Just because it's a good lie doesn't mean it's not embarrassing as hell."

"On that, I believe we can agree," he noted, taking me in with appraising eyes, looking me up and down. I looked back at him, noticing him surveying me, distaste tainting the bright thoughts that he'd had just seconds ago. He couldn't even _look _at me-at _any_ mortal- that way.

Well, the feeling was pretty freaking mutual. I shuddered as a mental image popped into my brain; Loki and I, boyfriend and girlfriend, like the world would see us if I kept up with this latest deception… Arms linked together, little paper hearts littering the ground around us as we gave each other googly-eyes… I almost puked. Gross. Just… gross. Ew, ew, ew.

I fought with bile and pushed the thoughts aside, forcing myself to remain calm and logical about the whole thing. "So are we cool?" He looked to me. "We're keeping with this?" I elaborated.

He nodded once, and the smile was back again. "If necessary." I sighed in relief.

"I doubt it will be," I said quickly; too quickly. I made myself slow down, tapping a silent beat on my side and keeping my words together with its rhythm. "Just good to have a backup plan, right? I mean, I was caught without it today, and look where _that _got me."

"Indeed," he agreed quietly; but he did not walk up next to me, did not start towards the door, did not begin his journey to the training center so many floors below us. He hesitated for a long moment, uneasy, uncertain. Recognizing that this meant that he had something more to say, I waited him out patiently.

"As… different as this predicament is," he started after a moment, measuring each word out with the utmost care, being certain not to say too much or too little, to weave his web of letters and words and fairy tales… "You have fabricated a decent cover for yourself; which would not have been necessary if not for me." His words were stiffer, more formal than usual. I listened closely, trying to see what he was getting at.

"I know how you felt about this… man,"-he barely avoided saying 'boy'- "And I know that you would have agreed, were it not for our… particular circumstances." He wasn't looking at me any longer; he was instead turning towards the window, staring longingly at the world outside. As much as he was now free from his cell, he had still only traded one prison for another; he was not allowed outside, was not allowed in the sunlight, in the fresh air, in the world without chains and shackles and scars… I was his only link to freedom, his only taste of a world outside of the trembling dangers that lurked in the shadows… I blinked, clearing these thoughts away, erasing them from my mind. Focusing on what his words were saying as opposed to his actions.

"I don't believe I truly realized… what it meant to you when you swore to keep our link, all that time ago." His gaze went back to me, then flickered away, his eyes shying away from mine briefly. "You have given up on… love. For me." He chuckled softly, wry and rueful and a little bit sarcastic, like he couldn't quite believe what words were coming out of his mouth. "You recognized this, all that time ago, did you not?"

I swallowed, my gut feeling twisted and sticky, filled with tar and sour honey, gooing up my insides. I looked away from him. "Yeah. But, you know, no biggie."

He snorted, scoffing in the back of his throat and rolling his eyes. "It was your lifelong dream, Frost," he said, his words now edged with a fine razor blade. "To find someone you cared for, to love and be loved, to have children and grow old and die like every other mortal; but not to die alone."

"I have other dreams."

"Quite." He nodded once, acknowledging this. We both knew that I wasn't some sap who clung tightly to something that I could never have. "But you were right. I didn't recognize it until recently, but it is… impossible, for one of us to love someone while connected to each other."

I lifted an eyebrow. I'd _always _known that; I'd been aware of it from the very beginning, had known it from the second that I told Loki that I was never going to separate our connection, that I was going to keep us linked for the rest of our lives. But I was suddenly very curious as to how _he _had figured it out for himself… "How so?"

He gave me a look- part exasperated, part _Really-Frost, _part irritated and all Loki- before turning back to the window. "It is… uncomfortable, to know that you are beside someone whom you… have feelings for." He said, very delicately, tiptoeing around every word… it was hard to say any of this without sounding unbearably cheesy; a fact which we were both highly aware of.

I gave him a sweeping grin. "Why? You jealous?" I teased. It earned me another look, sourer than the first.

"It is not a matter of _jealousy,_" he said curtly, brusquely. I waited for him to explain, but for a long time he did not. I was almost ready to tell him to drop the whole matter and just start walking to the elevator when he spoke up again. "I am a part of you, and you are a part of me. When you are hurt, so am I. When you are angry, so am I." His face was turning red; though he would have denied it profusely if I had pointed it out. He looked at his feet. "When you have feelings for someone else…" He trailed off, leaving me to reach my own conclusions.

I blinked. Once. Twice. Surprised laughter bubbled up my throat and slipped out of my lips in a weird, hebephrenic sound. "Oh, shit," I said, then giggled again. "Ok, that…" I looked down, turning beet red myself, burying my face in my hands. "That makes a _lot _of sense."

"Quite." He said through his teeth.

"Sorry," I blurted out, suddenly realizing that this conversation-like so many of our others- was being hidden from JARVIS' and Heimdal's sight. I was very grateful for it. "Honest, I've been trying to keep the whole 'crush' thing down to a minimum… no point in falling in love with someone you can't have, right?" I was babbling by this point; what could I say? I felt bad. Our link had its share of awkwardness from time to time, putting us in some really bad situations; and this was definitely one of them. "I really have. I mean, I never would… I… don't want… I've tried to…" The babbling stream that poured from my lips suddenly ran dry. What more could I say? It wasn't like I could _help _it if I had a crush on someone…

"I am aware of your attempts to keep things… platonic," Loki said after a moment; he was studying me again. "And because of that, thankfully, it has not yet reached the point where my emotions and yours have become indeterminable from each other." He met my gaze, his eyes suddenly melting into liquid emerald, washing away his former hostility, drowning out the cold laughter, leaving him with nothing but the molten green emptiness. "But I wished for you to know that…" he trailed off, then turned suddenly and started stalking towards the door; he made it there in a few brisk strides, throwing me completely off guard. As his hand closed around the handle, he glanced over his shoulder and finished, "I understand now." He looked back to the grains of wood that marched up the door like thin, miniscule ants, falling into line in the manner of soldiers. Marching off to war.

"I know that it is impossible. I know what you gave up."

He hesitated by the door, as though wishing to say something else… but then he pushed through it and started off down the hallway, his cape flickering out behind him in forested hues.

It was the closest to a 'Thank You' that he'd given me, or would ever give me, in a very long time.

* * *

"You two sure took your sweet time," Tony griped as Loki and I entered the training center. The Trickster swept in, his cape stirring up the air behind him, his helm coming within inches of the doorframe; thankfully, the ceiling was much higher than the door itself, so this wasn't a problem for long. I tagged along behind him, lingering in his shadow until I was inside, then taking my place beside him, walking in the light.

"I actually bothered to show up on time, and what do you do?" Tony directed the question towards me, seeming content to pretend that Loki did not exist. "_You _come in _late._ There is such a thing as _class, _Bubbletastica."

I lifted my eyebrows. "Well, it's not something I'd learn from _you, _Tin Man. But you're right; maybe I should talk to _Steve_ about it."

He rolled his eyes as the Avengers gathered together in a loose formation, Loki and I hovering just outside of their little circle, a step away. I glanced around the training room; it had been a while since I'd been in here, despite everything. It was wide-open, the walls solid concrete, objects placed willy-nilly to give the illusion of terrain. Loki was scanning everything as well, his eyes roaming the walls, the ground, making note of every falsely created nook and cranny. Filing the information away for later use.

Everyone-save Loki- turned to Steve. The Captain was usually the one who organized us during these training sessions, anyway. The unspoken leader of the group, he had a way of making us fall in line, of making us jump into action, obey any order thrown our way without question or pause. And the strange part about it was, around Steve, you _wanted _to follow orders. He was such a good guy that you just naturally followed what he said; a leader born. A soldier, through and through.

He wasted absolutely no time; immediately dividing us into sparring teams. "Hand-on-Hand only," he said, turning from Thor, to me to Tony to Loki in turn as he added, "No Lightning, no Bubble, no Armor, no Magic. A clean fight, without powers."

Loki kept himself from frowning, but only barely. Now that he'd given Loki his boundaries, Steve was no longer really paying attention to him; dealing with things by not dealing with them at all. We all knew Loki was here, we all knew he was fighting on our side, and we all had to go on with our lives, anyway. There was no sense in wasting precious time on futile hostilities.

Tony didn't seem happy about the no-armor rule, either, and I was a little miffed by the exclusion of my precious bubble. But this was only the beginning; we would be fighting with our so-called 'powers' soon enough. Which meant that Loki would get his hands on a weapon again… I hid a smile. I shouldn't have been so happy about that, but I was anyway. At this point, any weapon you could use against Fraye was a good one; even if that weapon was in the hands of the Norse god of Mischief.

"I'm splitting you into three teams. No alliances allowed between two teams, understood?" A few of us nodded. Steve started to split us into our groups: "Natasha, you and Stark." An odd pairing. Natasha and Clint usually worked together; but maybe that was the point. To have them working outside of their usual comfort zones. "Thor and Barton, Natalie and Loki. Banner and I will sit this one out; I want to get a look at your fighting tactics from a different standpoint." Everyone nodded, accepting their assigned teams… but I frowned deeply. No. No, I didn't like this at all.

"Right. Five minute ceasefire to get yourselves in position."

"Last one standing gets a cookie!" I interjected, getting myself some eye rolls, but it lightened the mood a little. Loki- as always- noted my behavior with a mixed degree of apathy, bemusement, and curiosity; not many people could keep up the same attitude that I did when dealing with such heavy topics. Thor, Natasha, Clint and Tony parted ways, running off into their separate corners of the room… Loki, however, stayed where he was as I chased down after Steve, who was heading for the sectioned-off, raised platform that Bruce stood on.

"Rogers!" I called; the Captain halted and turned to me, waiting for me to come within a few feet of him.

"Yes?"

I glanced back behind me; Loki was still waiting for me. The others had scattered throughout the area, hiding; for now. I lowered my voice to a quiet hiss; I'd wanted to make my objection _before _the others left, but Steve could always call them back if worst came to worst.

"Look," I said, pulling no punches, getting straight to the point. "I'm not going to debate anything with you, Steve. And I'm not going to fight with you on this issue or anything… but I don't think it's a good idea for you to put Loki and I on a team against everyone else." I looked him dead in the eye as I said this, standing as tall as I was physically able. Not being hostile, but not backing down, either. "We're trying to _avoid _making him the 'bad guy', remember? And… well… I mean, we all know that of everyone here, I'm the most open to this." My throat clogged a little as I said the words out loud- was this giving too much away? Too little?- but I managed to get them out into the air nonetheless. "I mean, because I _know _that he's on our side right now." I tugged my glove upwards reflexively, hiding the Key beneath it.

"It's not going to be that much of a big step for everyone to start alienating and villainizing me as well, given the right circumstances." I concluded. "And this… well, it's less than ideal; you're putting us together against everyone else…"

Steve cut me off, smiling lightly. "It's all right, Natalie. I've thought of that already."

He had? I blinked. Well, I guessed it would make sense that he had- a leader has to know his soldiers, right?- but if that was the case, then why…?

He explained before I could ask. "It's just a temporary thing. But…" he concentrated, trying to think of how to phrase his words just right. "I wanted to see how you two would fight together given the… nature of your connection. The link between you could provide an… interesting advantage."

I blinked. "Oh." I said, surprised. "That… that makes sense."

Steve seemed amused by my mild shock, smiling lightly. "Go on, Natalie. You have to get into position."

I nodded once, still a little stunned. I hadn't really thought that the Avengers saw my link with Loki as anything but a hindrance, a nuisance. But of course, I should have seen that Steve would know the practical military advantages; I hid a sigh as I re-joined Loki. I hadn't been spending enough time with Soldier Boy lately; recently, my life had been pretty Loki-oriented. Not that I could really help that.

Loki was studying the area again; he had a pretty good idea of the land by now. He turned to me as I came up next to him, and I asked, _Ready?_

He half-smirked softly. _But of course_.

I closed my eyes, zeroing in on the whispering, floating voices in the back of my head, the soft buzzing that never left me; Loki did the same, the two of us searching through thread upon thread of thought, trying to find something to agree on that would bind us together, tie our minds to each other, tether us.

It was more of a feeling than an actual thought; the feeling that this, more than anything else, was a test, given to us by the Avengers; and we could not fail. Our reasons may have been different, but at their core they were essentially the same; we both had to prove our worth to the Avengers. Loki, for fear that they would send him back to his prison, back to his darkness… and me, because I was _always _proving myself to them. Proving that I was a friend, despite how I was bound to their enemy…

We allowed the feeling to ricochet through us, to echo in quiet pulses across both of our minds, our thoughts flooding together in a tidal wave. It was getting easier for us to do that on command, as opposed to simply when one or both of our lives were threatened.

Distinctions between us blurred. My eyes snapped open, as did Loki's; there was not even a nanosecond's pause between the two. It was no longer one or the other; it was both of us, the same person, two halves of one whole, working together towards the same goal.

And Steve was right to wonder about what the link did for our battle tactics; until this point, the two of us had never fought together while linked in this way and in close proximity to each other. Or, really, we hadn't fought together at all; save one time, long ago, when we have been fighting _against _each other, the link still raging in our heads, used for a purpose it was never meant for: a weapon.

But now… well, this was what we were meant to do. What we were meant to be.

A smile curled on our faces.

We did not have to say a word; not out loud, and not in our heads. We _knew _what we were supposed to do-because Loki had figured it out beforehand, and I was attuned to his every thought and strategy- and we went with it. No questions, no answers; we knew what we needed to know.

We did not hide. Hiding was pointless. Steve had forbidden the teams from working with each other, but it was obvious who they would each come for first; and if we were going to fight them, we were going to do so out in the open, where they could not surprise us, could not sneak up on us. As far as was possible, Loki had chosen the most wide-open space in the room; he and I stood back-to-back in the center of it, two pairs of eyes scanning the area. I could see everything, everything through his eyes and mine; because they were _all _my eyes, _our _eyes. Extra arms and legs and eyes and ears and noses, an entire phantom being that had never existed before; I was Loki's other half, and he was mine, each of us agreeing totally on every single movement. I could move Loki's arm as easily as I could move my own, and he could do the same; but there was no distinction between us, we each decided what we wanted to do _together. _

His eyes caught sight of Clint first, though we saw it at the same time; this was hand-on-hand, so there were no weapons involved, which meant that he would be without his bow. Loki pretended to not have seen him, scanning the area; but now he was looking for his brother. A moment later, my eyes zeroed in on the Thunderer. It seemed that the other two were nowhere to be found; not yet, anyway.

But one thing at a time.

Clint's strike came fast and direct; a distraction, aimed at the Trickster… Loki recognized the tactic and we turned, so that I was facing Clint and he was facing Thor; a better comparison of abilities. By myself, Clint could easily kick my butt six ways from Sunday; but that was by myself. Now, it was different. Now, I was another person. Now, I had Loki.

And Clint wouldn't see me coming.

It happened very quickly; Clint's blow came towards me- pulling back slightly to keep from actually doing any damage- and I dodged it, gripping his wrist as it flew past me and pulling it towards me, using his weight against him. I directed him towards Loki- like tossing something from one hand to the other- who flung the archer down to the ground. Clint was back up in a heartbeat, now beside Thor, who had come towards his brother…

I mentally swore as my eyes saw Natasha lingering in the background, watching the fight from a distance, Stark beside her. We decided to ignore them, for now; we had our hands full as it was. I went beside Loki, blocking Thor's first strike as Loki weaved around him, arriving behind Thor; Clint got in the way, and the two exchanged blows for a moment as I skidded backwards, away from Thor's strikes, wishing desperately that I could flare into the bubble… Loki and I were merged so completely, our thoughts so meshed that his jealousy for his brother was becoming mine… and I was starting to see crimson around the edges of my world, starting to feel hatred wishing the bubble to life…

We quelled that. Now was not the time for it. We needed Thor. We needed them _all._

I traded blows with Thor as I started backing further and further away from Loki; but the link had no distance limit. We were still as tightly woven together as we ever were; and Loki's battle experience was still mine. His knowledge still powered my muscles; still made me faster, stronger, better. I ducked beneath one of Thor's blows and dodged to the side, stepping around him so that Loki and I could switch places. My fighting skills were better suited against Clint; which was likely the reason why they had chosen this particular strategy.

This mock-fight went on for quite a while; Natasha and Tony eventually joined in as well, taking great care not to gang up on me and Loki; after all, Steve had told them not to ally themselves with other teams. Everyone fought everyone. That was how it worked.

Loki and I fought together far better than I ever could have expected, far better than even he anticipated. The others were forced to call out little words and hints at their battle strategies to one another, short orders such as, "Now!" or "Thor!" or "To your left!" Keeping in communication with each other at all times, keeping their eyes on each other… Loki and I didn't need to do that. We didn't need to monitor the other's movements; we _were _each other's movements. He was me and I was him and we were us. There was no distinction between his thought and my action, or vice versa. Indeed, there _was _no 'his' thought and 'my' thought, no 'his' action and 'my' action. There were _our _thoughts, _our _actions, one in the same.

And it was incredible.

It felt… _right._

Loki and I lost ourselves to the training session, to the false battle. The Avengers, working together, were like a well oiled machine; they knew each others strategies and thoughts and plans, but that was _nothing _compared to us. Loki and I were one, and we were lost inside of the battle, in the heartbeats between action and reaction, in the adrenaline that set our limbs ablaze, dulling all pain-physical and mental. We were the battle, breathing in the brawl, losing ourselves in the fight.

Tony fell first; we somewhat expected that. He was a metal man without his armor to shield him, without his glowing heart to pump vicious energy through copper-wire veins. Natalie's body got the first hit on him, but Thor was the one who finished him; he pulled out of the battle with ease and grace, conceding defeat by backing out of the sparring match. His partner, Natasha, held strong for quite a while; she and Clint locked in battle while Loki and I handled Thor; always a difficult task, and something that was so much harder for us; for we were simultaneously fighting ourselves as well. Fighting our inner desire to destroy, to battle at our fullest strength, to fight with magic and the indestructible shield…We had to stop ourselves, to keep ourselves from digging fingers into eyes and clawing and kicking and spitting and screaming…

Natalie loved Thor. We focused on that. We held onto that. Natalie loved Thor as her brother, and it kept us from resorting to dirty tricks, kept us bound in chains of honor. He was not our current enemy. And he was _never _Natalie's enemy. Fraye. Fraye was our only current foe.

We had to remember that.

Natalie was thrown out next. Or, rather… _I _was. Thor landed the right 'death blow' on me, and I was forced to back out. It was almost painful, to walk away while Loki was still on the battle field; and both of us almost cried out as we pulled away from each other, separating back into normal distinctions again. Tears burned in my eyes as I walked away, and Loki gritted his teeth against the pain; he stumbled slightly in the fight, but managed to remain upright. The two of us were completely disoriented, our minds struggling to cope with the sudden reappearance of borderlines and walls and proper pronouns. Somehow, _somehow, _Loki forced himself to keep himself fighting; though we were both wounded by the sudden separation, and I was certain that I wouldn't have been able to keep myself doing the same, if I were him. I could barely stagger away from the battle as it was, without falling down onto my hands and knees and throwing up.

It worried us both; if this was how difficult it was to simply half-separate after being bound so tightly together for so long… what would happen if we were that way during the true battle and one of us actually… _died?_

I knew the answer. Loki refused to think about it, but he knew, too. If one died in battle, so would the other. It was no longer even a question.

Despite Thor's attempts to help the archer against his usual partner, Clint soon followed me after Natasha mimed breaking his neck. I smiled a little as he sat down next to me and Tony, watching from the distance. Well, so much for teams; though all three of said teams were still in play, only one member from each was still 'alive'. I watched as Natasha, Loki, and Thor all fought each other, an intricate three-person dance with twisting, agile steps… finally, Natasha stepped wrong, and the other two dancers pounced on it; there was a spark in Loki's green eyes as he took the opportunity presented to him, as he finished off the Widow. She took a moment to back away and joined us in the loser corner; I gave her a wry smile, and she gave me a tired half-smirk in return, but it did not touch her eyes. Now it was just Thor and Loki, continuing with the sparring match, and the Trickster's eyes were gleaming just a little too brightly…

_Loki, _I suggested softly, seeing where that gleam was going and not liking it in the slightest. _Take a dive._

He ignored me for a moment, falling back to dodge a blow. He questioned my reasoning without forming an actual question, too involved in weaving about Thor's strikes to take the time to think of actual words.

_I mean it. We've proven ourselves useful. You don't need to actually __**win **__this battle. In fact, you probably __**shouldn't; **__it'll make them too nervous._ There was a pause, then I added, _you know you can't do this by yourself. You know you won't be able to stop from hurting Thor; really __**hurting**__ him. Trust me. Take a dive._

Again, he ignored me for a long moment, losing himself to blows and strikes and the dance of death… but eventually, his mind opened up a little more; listening more intently. Allowing me to convince him.

_If you __**did **__win this, _I continued with my cool rationalizations. Keeping him focused in logic; logic was all that mattered. _Which you might or might not, then you would have him at a point where you could deliver a death blow. Can you honestly say that you would not __**take **__that opportunity? _

_Can you honestly say that __**he **__will not? _He questioned in turn, finally forming actual words.

_You know him as well as I do. _I answered, brooking no nonsense, because we both knew that he was stalling. It would not do wonders for his pride to lose to his brother-and the Avengers- again. _You and I both know that you can cream this guy in your sleep. Brains win against brute strength every time. Why should it matter if you pretend to lose __**one**__ battle? _

This was, of course, a lie; or at the very least, an over-exaggeration. An ego stroke. And Loki knew it, too. But, as it had on a few occasions beforehand, it worked; because he allowed himself to believe it. At least for now. Because, really, we both knew that him allowing himself to believe this was the only way he was going to tear his thoughts away from the battle long enough to take a fall, to pretend to lose.

He blocked a few more of Thor's strikes, then allowed one to slip through. Then another, which followed up on that one, and then he was stumbling backwards. Thor's assault continued for a while, until Loki fell onto the ground; easily the end, as Thor was out of range of his feet in a heartbeat, aiming towards his throat. A mock-blow came within reach of Loki's face, but pulled back quickly. Thor straightened; the battle was over.

He held out a hand to help his brother back to his feet.

Loki ignored it, pulling himself upright as I did the same. He gave me a look from across the room, an _are-you-happy-now-Frost _glare that cut straight through me. He was angry. He was always angry. He _could _defeat Thor, one day he would, he was certain of it…

_We've gotta survive Fraye, first, _I told him pointedly; he looked to me as the Avengers gathered together loosely around Steve, who was walking to the center of the room. Loki and I fell into step beside each other, hovering once again a few feet behind them.

"That went well," Steve said, raising his eyebrows, half-joking. Everyone exchanged rueful looks; it was one of the most intense, high-strung training sessions I'd ever been through in my life. And I was sure that everyone else felt the same way, too. Loki stayed standing as tall as he could, but there was black ice frosting over his green eyes. If we had been alone, I would have put my hand on his arm, would've told him that everything was ok… but I didn't think that would go down well with anyone, considering the circumstances, so I kept myself to myself and my lips firmly zippered shut.

"Thor gets the cookie!" I said, in as bright of a voice as I could, barely managing to make it sound real. Only Loki would have guessed that it was false; everyone else rolled their eyes or chuckled softly. Tony even clapped a hand on my back. "So, are we rolling with powers now, or what?" I went on, "I wanna crack out the mighty bubble of death."

"Same here," Stark said, rubbing his shoulder, where Natasha had gotten him pretty good. "This working without the suit thing _isn't _working. At all."

"Not yet," Steve answered, and the two of us groaned in unison. "We have a few things to work on first. Weaknesses that need to be fixed." He looked to me and Loki, gesturing to us vaguely. "And I need to talk to you two about… what you did."

Loki's eyebrows went up as I asked, "What we _did?_"

"You noticed that too, huh?" Clint asked, folding his arms and falling into a semi-relaxed position.

"Noticed what?" I asked, a little worried, "What did we do?"

"You were spooky, Pizza Girl," Tony chimed in. "Never seen you like _that _before."

Not true. I'd sparred with them before while Loki and I were linked like that, when our connection became that much stronger. And I'd fought the Hounds beside them with the same thing. Why was it so different now that he was _here, _as opposed to imprisoned? The Trickster and I fought to keep from sharing a look; a show of familiarity had to be avoided for the time being.

"JARVIS, pull up the footage from that last sparring match," Tony ordered of thin air. "And keep it focused on these two." He pointed at me and Loki.

"Of course, Mr. Stark."

Loki and I turned to the holographic display hesitantly. My hand automatically tried to reach out to his, to calm my suddenly-racing heart, to keep my hands from shaking… but I kept it pinned next to my side. It was almost painful. Just moments ago, Loki and I had been the same person. You wouldn't think twice about holding your own hand, or rubbing your hand over your arm… But now we were ourselves again, and there were rules that had to be followed. Protocols to be observed.

We watched our projected selves fighting with the others; and if I do say so myself, we _were _pretty freaking incredible. Our responses to each other were exact, coordinated beyond even that of the Avengers, whom had always impressed me so much before. Our movements weren't exactly the same, but synchronized perfectly nonetheless. There were even times when one of us would help the other in performing a move; providing balance during a kick or linking arms for a brief second to help propel the other forwards… Loki and I watched in silence for a long moment, not looking at each other. Really, we had both expected as much, but there was a difference between that and _seeing _it, first hand.

"No…" Loki suddenly breathed; his thoughts, I realized abruptly, were following a very different track from mine. "No, that can not be…"

Ignoring the Avengers, not seeming to even notice that they were even there anymore, his eyes zeroed in on the mini-battle on the holo-screen. "Frost," he said after a moment.

"What?" I asked.

"What does this look like to you?" He inquired, not facing me, gesturing to the blue-washed figure of me fighting the Avengers. I frowned, studying it.

I couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. "I dunno."

He let out a half-sigh of exasperation, and pointed with one long, thin finger towards the mini-me's arms. I was still blocking blow after blow, each movement fluid and…

And…

"No," I whispered. I started shaking my head back and forth. "No, no way!" I laughed quietly, stunned.

"What, what is it?" Barton asked behind us. He was ignored.

"Do you think…?" I looked to Loki. He looked back to me in turn.

"It's possible," he answered mildly. I lifted both eyebrows.

"Only one way to find out," I said, struggling to keep back the stupid little grin that was threatening to break out on my face. I wasn't paying attention to the Avengers anymore, either; I was lost in the excitement of the moment; I could deal with them later.

Loki was in agreement with me; he took a few steps back, away from the Avengers, giving us both some room as I followed. Before the supers could get it in their head to follow us, Loki threw a sharp blow towards me; fast, furious, not holding back.

The others immediately reacted, jumping or- in Tony's case- crying out, "What the-", but I, of course, was waiting for this. My hand rose up to intercept his, a similarly fast and sharp block, throwing his strike off and keeping it away from its initial target: my face. But still I scowled.

"Nope," I said, flicking out my fingers. "Damn."

"Again," Loki ordered smoothly. "And do not think. React."

I nodded a few times and tried to obey, to turn my brain off and simply go with the flow of the movements. He threw another strike, and another, a volley of blows that I parried easily, one after the other. The Avengers watched us in silence, clearly confused by our strange behavior, but they were, again, ignored.

After a moment, I was able to lose myself in the fight; just for a second, but it was all I needed. As Loki's strike came towards me, my hands naturally reacted. My entire _body _naturally reacted; as my wrist turned a certain way and my fingers fell into position, a strange feeling bubbled up in the bottom of my stomach, an emotion unidentified curling up in my heart and spreading through my blood, down my shoulder and out my fingertips…

I gasped, stepping back away from Loki, whose eyes had narrowed on my hand. Nothing had happened, not outwardly, but we both knew the significance of what had happened _inwardly._

"_Exact,_" I breathed in shock, lifting up my hand and studying my fingers. "That was _exact _to…"

Loki was nodding slowly, joining in on my little half-conversation. "Every muscle, every nerve, everything in precisely the right place." He took my hand, examining it carefully. "No reaction, of course, but that much is to be expected… you're only human, after all…"

"Ok!" Tony exclaimed, getting really tired of us and our crap. "Explanation! _Now!_"

Loki and I looked up to him, perhaps remembering him and the others for the first time. I yanked my hand out of Loki's, then gave him a look out of the corner of my eye. He returned it; how in the hell were we supposed to explain _this_ to them?

I started picking my words very carefully, thinking of a good way to phrase it, when Thor took the job from me.

"It's magic," the Thunderer said. Everyone turned to him, and he kept his eyes on us. "Natalie's movements are like those that my brother does when he uses magic."

I nodded; Loki's eyebrows turned into a squiggle line, curious as to how his brother would know such a thing. Thor had never really paid much attention to the strange power that Loki had always found himself so fascinated with. There were many aspects of magic to which Thor had always remained oblivious; Loki had not expected his brother to know even this much. I hadn't either, but I let it go; maybe Thor paid more attention to Loki than the younger had ever thought.

"Exactly," I agreed with the Thunderer.

"And they are fairly complicated moves to master," Loki added, barely managing to keep from his tone how impressed-and slightly bitter- he was. The fact that I, a mortal, had this degree of skill and knowledge over magic because of my link with _him…_ it somewhat irked him. He had not spent all of those years mastering this power for a ridiculous _human_ to learn it from him without ever trying…

But he let this slide. Tony was looking at me with a newfound sense of worry.

"So what does this mean?" He asked. "Is Pizza Girl gonna start abracadabra-ing up energy weapons and stuff now?"

I shook my head as Loki answered, "Unlikely. She is only human."

"I'm not physically capable of manipulating magic," I explained his statement. "Humans aren't sturdy enough; more likely than not, it would rip me apart before it was of any use." I turned to the Trickster. "If I weren't…"

I threw a blow towards him; Loki blocked it in precisely the way I had, a sweep of energy flared from his fingertips, slamming into my fist, my bones making a loud, resounding _crack _as they slammed against it. I shook out my fingers, biting my lip to keep from hissing out curses. I'd known it would hurt, but that didn't stop it from being incredibly painful nonetheless. This little green shield of energy hovered for a brief moment in front of him before fading away into nonexistence.

"_That _is what would have happened," I went on, then shoved my knuckle in my mouth as it started to bleed. _Ow. _Just _ow. _

"However…" Loki said slowly, ignoring me and my knuckle pain, "There is another matter to consider."

I looked to him, head tilted to the side, curious. And then my eyebrows shot straight up as I followed his train of thought. "You think…?" I mumbled around my fist.

He nodded slowly. "Natalie already has a great deal of magic in her system." He explained to the others as I removed my hand from my mouth, saw it was still bleeding, and shoved it back in. "The machines inside of her bloodstream are a blend of both your science and Asgardian magic; and, thus far, because of this combination, that magic has not damaged her."

"But she could learn to manipulate it?" Natasha asked, catching on immediately. Her eyes darted between me and Loki and back again. "Use it as an advantage?"

"It's _possible,_" I answered, stressing the word 'possible' as much as I could. "Highly unlikely. And I'm not going to be able to do anything huge; the nanos can only do so much. But that _is _the general idea." My knuckle was _still _bleeding. I stuffed it back into my mouth irritably.

"Nonetheless, an advantage is an advantage," Loki concluded for me. "Magic certainly has its uses."

_Loki, _I warned, seeing where this conversation was heading far in advance. _Shut up._

Thor voiced the question that I had seen inevitable. "But magical energy can not be created from nothing. And what little energy is inside the machines will not be enough to be of much use."

"And if it's completely depleted, she'll die," Bruce put in. "Her system is addicted to that energy. She can't live without it for long; that's why we haven't taken the things out already."

Not true; Loki had offered to take the nanos out, once. And Bruce had figured out for himself that there would be a way to wean myself off of this addiction… but I had refused. I _liked_ my super-bubble, thank you very much. But still, for all intents and purposes, this _was _true; if I wasted away all of the energy inside of the nanobots without giving them time to replenish themselves… well, let's just say that it would be bad.

"But the death bubble takes energy, too," Tony pointed out. "The nanos are science, fueled by magic, correct? So why doesn't _that _take energy out of you?"

"It does," I said with a shrug. "Just… not as much. It was never _designed_ to sap all of the energy out of the nanos. But to use magic would take a fair degree of energy, possibly greater than that of the bubble."

"So you'd need another energy source. Like the Tess-" Bruce stopped talking abruptly.

A weighted silence fell over the entire group as Banner's unspoken word sank in. Loki's eyes flicked to the ground.

I refused to look down. Taking a single step forwards, placing myself in between the Avengers and Loki, I agreed in a clear voice, "Yes, Bruce." I lifted my head, my chin jutting out just the slightest bit. My knuckle was no longer bleeding; the nanos had finally kicked in, and the small wound was scabbing over as I spoke. "Exactly like the Tesseract."

I'd known the conversation would head here. It was the reason why I'd wanted Loki to stop talking about how this me-doing-magic thing would be an 'advantage'. I knew that was truly how he viewed it, knew that he was just trying to find any possible way to fight Fraye that he could… but why _wouldn't _the Avengers simply see another plot? Another way for Loki to get his hands on that glowing, blue, unlimited source of power?

My hands closed into fists; the movement strained against the newly-created scab and caused it to twinge painfully. I ignored this as I met every Avenger's eye individually. Some of them looked away. Some of them met my gaze. Some were looking directly at Loki.

And one was outright glaring at me.

Barton's hands were similarly in fists, trembling just slightly at his side. I could imagine what he was thinking; thinking of how many people would have to suffer what he had, should Loki retrieve the Tesseract again… thinking of the days when his eyes had turned blue, when he had been unmade, rewritten, his every core moral and standard erased and replaced. I met Clint's gaze without backing down, even and neutral as opposed to dark and hostile.

"But seeing as that isn't currently an option," I went on, "It seems we'll have to deal with what we have. Aye?"

Shit.

The 'aye' had slipped in out of nowhere. I kept my gaze even, as though it was not a slip, as though it had been intentional… and Loki did not look at me. We acted as though nothing was wrong, as though I'd _meant _to say that… and not as though it was Loki's influence on my thoughts… He had been speaking Spanish, and now I was starting to sound like an Asgardian… damn mind link really killed us both sometimes…

The others didn't react, save for a raised eyebrow or two; and when Thor answered, "Aye," everyone relaxed. Muscles no longer so tense, fingers uncurling from fists, jaws unclenching, everyone started to go on with their normal lives. The group relaxed slightly, falling back into their usual stances.

After a long moment and a few half-hearted mutters, Steve finally got us back on topic. "At any rate," he said, "I'd still like to talk a bit about what happened during that last match."

And so continued our training session; the single longest, most tedious and stress-filled training session of my life. And I'd been through quite a few since I'd first met the Avengers.

We discussed strengths and weakness, flaws and failings… we went through about two more hand-to-hand, powerless matches before we finally were allowed to bring out the big guns. I can't even begin to tell you how good it felt to stretch out the bubble, to feel it warp around me like a second skin, protecting me from the dangerous blows that were sure to come. We were meant to keep the damage down to a minimum, of course; no anti-tank missiles from Tony, no lightning from Thor, no overly-lethal magic from Loki.

It naturally made everyone uncomfortable when Loki magic'd up his spear from thin air; even after I explained that he was only able to do this now that Odin had relinquished the protective magic that had once been surrounding it; after all, Loki had been let out of his cell in order to _fight, _not to sit around defenseless and helpless while the big boys tackled the deadly shadow creature. Thor arrived as a welcome ally on my side in this matter.

"My brother has said that he will fight with us, and so he _will_ fight with us." The Thunderer had said, in a firm tone that brooked no debate, subtly shifting his weight so that he was standing beside me; and in between Loki and the Avengers. "You can not expect him to do so weaponless."

When the Avengers had eventually conceded, I'd given my 'brother' a little lopsided grin. Loki had pretended as though nothing whatsoever had happened. Life went on.

Training finally ended a while later; we were all exhausted, pushed to our limit, and Bruce was looking bored beyond belief, watching us all. Steve dismissed us all; but only after my phone started ringing in my pocket, and only after I told him that it was definitely an important call. Not that I particularly wanted to _answer _it, but it _was _important. I cut out of the room as everyone started to disperse, and Loki followed after me smoothly. I didn't protest as I quickly pressed the _'accept call' _button on my phone. It wasn't like any of the Avengers would be particularly amenable to watching over the Trickster at this point.

"Hello?" I said the word as a greeting, a question, and an accusation all at once.

"Natalie?" Cameron's voice came from the other end.

"My phone, isn't it?" I grumbled. "What do you want?"

I was irritable, I'll admit. But, considering my mother's earlier voice message about how my father was 'going insane' because of my most recent decision involving Loki… well, let's just say I didn't care so much if that hostility bled through.

Cameron didn't seem to care if his hostility showed, either. "Is it true?" He asked; there wasn't really a question in his voice. It was all accusation, all judgment. "Is Loki back on planet?"

"Sure is!" I said, with as much forced pep as I could muster. I threw that bright energy in his face as the words ripped out of me. "In fact, he's here right now." I turned on my heel, whirling to face Loki, my now-messy ponytail bouncing around on my head as I did so. "Wanna say hi?" I asked of my father, still with false cheer. Black poison was dripping in the back of my throat, and each word rubbed against it as it came out.

Loki raised an eyebrow at the question, but he said nothing, not interrupting. He was giving me his best scrutinizing gaze, studying me intently, piecing me together, figuring me out.

"There are a lot of things that I want to say to that man," My father growled in response, his voice low and guttural. "'Hi' is not the first thing that comes to mind." He sighed in heavy, harsh exasperation. "What the hell were you _thinking, _Nat? Vouching for him? Bringing him _back _here?"

"Oh, don't act like I didn't _warn _you," I growled. "I _told_ you to go! I _told _you that there was a new threat in New York!"

"A _new _threat! Not Loki! Not him, not again! That man is a _murderer, _Natalie, a _monster!_"

The word touched a nerve. An animalistic snarl curled my features in a decidedly ugly way, and my nails started digging into my palm as my free hand-the one not holding the phone- curled into a fist at my side. "Oh, _really?_" I asked, my voice soft as velvet, smooth as glass… but bleak and burning, reflecting the fire that had begun to consume my heart. "You're really going to pull the whole 'monster' thing, _dad?_ Because if I recall…"

"Frost."

I looked up, cut off mid-rant. Loki, standing on even ground with me but still a lot taller, looked down at me and shook his head slowly. I blinked, and his eyes met mine, stern and serious. Keeping me from saying something that he knew I would regret later.

I took a long, slow, deep breath and held it, keeping my eyes, unblinking, on Loki's. I debated in my head whether or not to just keep talking anyway, as the flames inside of me were urging me to do… but after a long moment, I let that breath out in an even longer sigh, forcing myself to cool down.

There was a long silence on the phone. Finally, I switched subjects; it was physically painful to force the words out of my mouth, but I managed it. Barely. "Who… who even told you about this, anyway?" It wasn't the biggest concern on my mind; but it _was _a concern. I was fairly certain that it was the Council's doing, as a little underhanded revenge for me not discussing the Loki situation with them _before _I went to Odin. Not that I really cared about the Council, but dammit, if they went at me through my family again, things were gonna die.

"One of the SHIELD agents." He answered curtly. "They've been coming over pretty frequently since you told them about the lesions." The 'lesion' thing was a low blow, a subtle reminder as to what, exactly, Loki had done to our family… but I forced myself to not comment on it. It was too subtle to be really called a 'dig' anyway.

"Which agent?" I demanded. I wanted to know who was on my side and who wasn't.

"I don't know, they're a dime a dozen, Nat." I could imagine him shaking his head out, waving an irritated hand. Using _my _gestures. After a moment, though, he came up with a name. "Burns, I think. Agent Burns."

I stiffened, every muscle locking into place. Panic flashed through me, and my eyes darted up to Loki, who had a similar shocked look on his face. My throat tight and my lips dry, I asked, "Female?" The words came out in squeaky, choppy sentences. "Black hair, black eyes? Extremely pale skin?"

He didn't seem to notice my tone; bitterness still edged its way into his words. "Yeah, that's her. Why, was she your old secret agent BFF?"

Sarcastic little jerk. He sounded way too much like me. I shoved these thoughts aside as I started running down the halls, Loki on my heels. "Cameron, listen to me," I ordered, hoping that the severity of the situation wouldn't be leeched out of my words by the phone's speakers and his own anger. "Get out of there. Wherever you are, get out of there _now. _I'm calling Fury, we're gonna get you onto the Helicarrier, ok? Where are you? Where's mom?"

Loki started ordering JARVIS to call the Avengers together at the bottom of the Tower as we made it to the elevator. My feet itched to be running, not standing around, but I made up for that by listening intensely to the conversation in my ear.

His irritation at me had _definitely _bled out the necessity in my voice. "Maybe you'd know that if you spent a bit more time around your family instead of that maniac-"

"_Cameron Frost!_" I shrieked, slamming my hand into the elevator wall; Loki stepped out of the way just in time to avoid the strike, and my open hand made the metal ring loudly. "If you do not tell me where the _hell _you are in the next _ten seconds, _you are going to _die, _do you understand me? You'll be dead! Dead as a friggin' _doornail!_ _**Clear enough? **_There is no time for this petty _**bullshit!"**_

_That _got through. "What… what do you mean? Natalie, what's going on?"

"I'll explain later!" I said in a rush. "Just tell me _where you are!_"

"I-I just got off of work, I was… I was driving home!"

"Don't go home. Don't even try. Just get to Stark Tower, ok?" I shifted from side to side quickly, willing the elevator to count down the floor numbers faster. "I'm sending a few of the Avengers your way, so don't freak out, ok? They'll cover you on the road." I was already considering who to send where; Tony and Thor were the obvious choices. They could fly, after all, and Iron Man could tag along with my father's car from above. Banner would have to stay at the Tower, take care of the SHIELD stuff, provide backup if necessary. That left Natasha, Steve and Clint with my mother; not the most powerful of all of us, not strong enough unless Loki and I tagged along… and at this point, nothing, but _nothing _could stop me.

"But your mother…" I could hear worry creeping into Cameron's tone. "Anna…"

"Don't worry about mom," I snapped quickly. "I'll take care of her, ok? Just _get to the Tower._ I'll see you after I get mom, ok?" Fear was pumping my blood too fast, and anger was making me see red. The entire world around me lit up as a brilliant glow spread across my skin, radiating from within me. I was pissed. I was _beyond _pissed. Loki recognized this and kept silent as the doors slid open; Natasha, Clint, Banner and Steve were all there. Still waiting on Thor and Tony.

Loki explained the situation to them in quick tones as I told my dad, "Just get here as quick as you can, ok?" and hung up. I was already dialing my mother's number before Loki had even finished his first sentence. My heart was pumping pure fire. Tremors radiated down my spine and sent me shaking.

"Hello?" My mother's voice was clear in the speaker. "Natalie?"

"Mom!" I shouted. "Shut up, don't say anything, just _listen. _What floor are you on?"

"I'm sorry?"

"What _floor, _mom, I know the building, but what _floor _are you on _right now?_"

"Why do you need to know?"

"MOM!" I shouted; Loki gave me a we-don't-have-time-for-this-look, and I shook my head out. "All right, whatever, just get to the bottom floor and wait for me there, ok?"

"Natalie, what on earth is going on?"

"I'll explain later! Get down there _now!_ Life and death, _madre, _just _go!_"

"Natalie-"

"_Please!_"

I could almost imagine her biting her lip. Thor arrived, and Clint re-explained everything to him; the others were all immediately falling into crisis mode, not questioning what Loki and I said, no longer seeming to resent his presence in the slightest. We were fighting a war now. There wasn't _time _to be worried about the quality of the soldiers.

"All right," My mother said at last. "All right. Fine."

I almost sang in relief. "I'll be there as soon as I can, just _stay there!"_

I hung up again. Tony arrived at last, and I immediately launched into my plan; dividing up the team to their respective duties. As I concluded with, "Banner can stay here and phone in SHIELD; they might be able to relocate my parents, get them somewhere safe," everyone turned to Steve.

"Cap?" Tony questioned. Running the plan by him before doing anything. The Soldier nodded.

"Go," he said quickly. "Clint, you drive. Loki, you're here with Banner."

"Loki comes with us," I growled, not bothering to okay it with _anyone, _gripping the Trickster by the sleeve and dragging him along. When Clint tried to protest, I turned to him. I knew that the tears which had been burning my eyes had overflowed by this point, knew that I looked like crap, knew that I looked… desperate. But that was _exactly_ how I felt; and there was no way in _hell _that I was leaving Loki, one the best fighters here _and _the only person-save me- who knew anything worth a damn about Fraye, back at the Tower.

I turned my accusing, watery eyes to Clint, to the others… "He comes with us," I repeated, my tone dark. "He knows more about Fraye than any of us combined." I was trembling, still clutching Loki's sleeve in a death grip. The silence was deafening. I choked out the words, but not for lack of determination; I simply couldn't speak. "These are my _parents. _He's _coming._"

Again, one by one, every stare turned to Steve. He contemplated for a long, weighted second, then nodded once. "We don't have time to argue. Loki's with us."

I gave him a curt-but-grateful nod and walked on. Loki allowed the slight indignity of me still clinging to his sleeve-mostly because neither of us was sure if I _could_ let go- as we all piled into the car. I watched Tony and Thor fly away, off down the main road between my father's work and Stark Tower. I'd given them a description of his car and the license number; he'd be safe soon enough.

We took one of Tony's cars; it was large enough for all five of us to sit relatively comfortably, with Loki and I in the far back. I was chewing my nails with reckless abandon, my foot tapping out a dangerous beat as I trembled in the seat. Natasha sat directly in front of us, with Clint in the driver's seat and Steve on the passenger's side. I was feeling shaky and unstable, tasting blood in my mouth as the fire that had been eating away at me began to char the air surrounding me, to deplete the oxygen in the air and turn it to ash, making it hard to breathe…

I knew that there were no real flames, knew that this fire was not real… After all, no one else could see me spontaneously combusting, and I could see myself through Loki's eyes; I looked perfectly normal to him. But I could feel each tongue of flame devouring me whole, the monster inside of me prowling around inside of its cage as the bars began to turn molten-orange, to melt. Razor-sharp, blue-hot claws slashed at the air around me, and I knew I could kill, knew that if I got my hands on Fraye for two seconds… for _two seconds, _she would be _dead…_

My hands clenched and unclenched at my sides as the drive went on with agonizing slowness. I'd released Loki's sleeve by now, but it was all I could do not to grip his hand and crush his fingers. I didn't think that the Avengers would take too kindly to me holding his hand, but we both wanted to; me, out of desperation, out of the need to be certain that there was _something _solid in the world, something permanent and real, some voice of reason amid the chaos and tumult that turned my brain to mush… And him, because he wished to _be _that permanent thing, that voice of reason. It was in our nature to help each other, after all; we _had _to…

After about half of the drive, however, he gave in; with a who-the-hell-cares-about-the-Avengers-anyway look and attitude, he took my hand, sliding his fingers around mine, and squeezed them carefully. I squeezed it in return, so tightly that I was certain I heard something crack, but if it hurt him, he did not show it. Panic was making my head light, the world spinning; part of me was floating and distant, not here, not at all… The rest of me was a great big knot of nausea and anxiety, curdled up in my stomach… Over and over again, I was hit with the sickening realization that I could lose my mother, or my father, that those short conversations on the phone could quite possibly be the last ones we ever had…

I'd never told my father 'I love you'…

I could see it, in my mind's eye, a hundred thousand different situations and scenarios… arriving too late or just in time, seeing Fraye slaughter my mother before my eyes or having her slip through my grasp at the last second, holding onto my mother's hand as she bled out on the floor, as red began to stain my hands… Or maybe she wasn't killed, maybe she was merely scarred, maybe the Shadow Wounds would cut across her skin, infected and vile and burnt and black and painful, painful for the rest of her life… I couldn't stop thinking about the scars on Loki's arm, or the cuts on Jekyll's side and Bruce's shoulder… imagining them decorating my mother and father, a macabre pattern of twisting misery…

"It's not going to come to that, Frost." Loki's voice was soft, but it caused most everyone in the car to jump nonetheless. I saw Natasha's gaze slide to us, watching out of the corner of her eye. She took in our clasped hands without a single word; and she, like the others, was largely ignored. I looked up to Loki, feeling… weak. Vulnerable.

And raw; there was a large, gaping wound that stemmed out from my chest and spread out… _everywhere. _It was raw and sore and bleeding, and the fire did not help. It only burned all the worse. Tears spilled out of my eyes as I looked back to the floor of the car, holding his hand tighter, shaking from head to toe. _You don't know that,_ I whispered in my head, too weary to speak out loud. My anger was at once both empowering me and draining me of all energy; my every limb felt like rubber, and yet the fire kept me sitting perfectly straight, kept me ready for battle.

Two of Loki's fingers-the index and the middle- tucked themselves beneath my chin, lifting it up so that I was forced to look at him, forced to meet his gaze. His emerald eyes were hard, filled with ice. His fingers were absolutely freezing, and I was surprised that they did not melt around the blazing inferno that surrounded me…

_Your parents have known of my return to Earth since this morning, _he reminded me, his mental voice a stern and steady lecture. Forcing me to hear all things reasonable and logical. _Fraye was with them __**then, **__not now. If she had wished them dead, they would be dead._

_Don't you get it? _I raged; because I knew he could take it. Because I had to direct my anger at something, and he was close. Because the monster within had slipped its leash, and I had to say something cutting and punishing and cruel, and Loki would know better than to listen to me, he never listened to me before… _Don't you __**remember? **__Back before all of this, when April was alive, when you and I weren't… __**this… **__You waited. You didn't speak to me for a whole month, you waited until I went out of the Tower before you screwed up my life again, before you became a part of my life again… because it messed with my head! Because it made me suffer! What if she's doing the same thing? After all, what would be the point in killing my parents if __**I'm **__not around to see it, to be hurt by it? Why __**wouldn't **__she wait until I knew she was there, until I tried to save them…? _

I clamped my teeth onto my lip to keep from sobbing. It didn't work; the muffled sound slipped out of me nonetheless. We were almost there. We were _almost there._

Loki recognized the truth in what I had said. He turned away. He no longer bothered to lie to me, to tell me that everything would be all right. What was the point?

As the car pulled up to the curb, I threw myself out, not even bothering to wait for it to roll to a complete stop. Natasha followed soon afterwards, and Loki and the others. I didn't even look at them as I flung myself towards the building, looking like a crazed maniac as I tore into the perfect, controlled environment where my mother worked. Thankfully, I had managed to kill the glow before I got out of the car; but that didn't make me look any less crazy as I made it inside.

"Mom?" I called out; the word echoed in the wide area. A few people looked in my direction, but if their features didn't match up with my mother's, I didn't give a damn about them. "Anna!" I tried again; I was in the professional world, after all, someone might recognize the name more than they would recognize my face… "Anna Rose!"

"Young lady," the receptionist behind the counter, wearing a red sweater buttoned over a white shirt, made complete with tacky gold earrings and a matching necklace, was obviously displeased by my appearance. "Keep your voice down," She scolded; I recognized her now, with her obviously-dyed honey hair done up in a perfect, tight bun, and her shrill voice like a cat being tortured. She used to give me the same admonishment whenever I came in with my mother when I was younger; and she gave me that admonishment now. "This is not a playground."

I wanted to choke her. If I wasn't so distracted by the urgency of Fraye, I probably would have. Or I would've asked Loki to do it for me. "Anna Rose," I said breathlessly, my hands slamming down onto her desk, scattering papers about as the Avengers entered the room behind me, slower than me for once. The receptionist raised an eyebrow and mashed her wrinkled lips into a hard, thin line, glancing at my sweat-slicked hands in highly visible disdain. I ignored this. "Have you seen Anna Rose Frost?" I demanded.

"Not today," she answered in a cool, even monotone. Her nose wrinkled as recognition finally sparked in her eyes. "You shouldn't be here, Natalie. Your mother is a very busy woman. She doesn't have time for your games anymore." She pointedly yanked out the papers from under my hands, adding in the most catty tone possible, "Honestly. You are an _adult _now, are you not?"

I _had _been turning away. I _had _been returning to my search. But the instant she said that, I whirled on her, my eyes downright ancient as I snarled, "Lady, you have no _idea _how _old _I _am._"

"Frost," Loki chided, already moving towards the other end of the room. Natasha brushed past me, placing herself between me and the receptionist. Good thing, too, because I was about to rip her wrinkled throat out.

"We need to find Anna Rose," Natasha said in a cold, clear, and obviously no-nonsense tone. But she was perhaps a little more polite than I had been. "Perhaps you could send out a general call over the intercom?"

Call. I yanked my cell phone out of my pocket, jamming the number on speed dial and holding it next to my ear. Two rings buzzed through the speakers as the Avengers dispersed, Clint following Loki as though worried that he might actually _try _something. I had more pressing concerns.

And then I heard it. The little factory jingle, the same stupid freaking ring tone that the phone came with, that almost _every _phone in New York had… so generic and bland and blech that it used to drive me insane… my eyes darted around the room, scanning everywhere; Loki's did the same. He recognized the ring tone as well as I did.

Our eyes zeroed in on the phone at the same time.

In the waiting area, sitting on the couch, not even paying attention to us, was a woman. The phone buzzed on the table in front of her, ringing and vibrating and being annoying in general. The woman turned the page of her magazine in a bored, unhurried fashion, then seemed to recognize the phone ringing in front of her.

"Oh!" She exclaimed in a girlish voice, then giggled quietly. "Well, _I'm _an airhead," she swept up the phone with hands like talons, clawing over the small device. She flicked it open, black eyes finding mine across the room, locking dead on. Lips painted blood-red by lipstick curled into a smile as they whispered the words in my mother's voice: "Hello, Natalie. It's good to see you again."

I stared. The phone dropped out of my hand, clattering to the ground. The others turned to the sound, turned to where I was facing, turned to Fraye.

_No._

She continued to smile at me as she closed the phone with one hand, her long and unpainted fingernails making small clicking noises against the plastic casing. There was no trace of the little child that we once knew in this figure; this was… a predator. Dangerous, standing tall… she wore Midguardian clothing now, as she always had in _my _memory, but not in Loki's…

But these were not the little kiddy outfits that we'd given her, or even the tattered clothes she'd been wearing when she first appeared. A black dress that only just came down to her knees, with thin straps holding it up, marking an 'X' across her back as she half-turned away from me to put the phone in a small purse beside her. Her black hair flowed in beautiful curls, and blood-red shoes matched her flawless lipstick… the dress wrapped tightly around her, clinging to her, showing the sickeningly visible arch of her spine… if she did not look so pale and unhealthy, if she did not seem so bone-thin and death white, it perhaps would have been an attractive look. As it was, she looked like a Mistress of Death.

As it was, with my fury poisoning my vision, she looked to me like a dead man walking. Rage exploded behind my heart, rocking through me with all the force of a shockwave. I didn't bother picking up my phone; I left it where it was on the ground and took a single step towards her.

"Where is she?" I demanded in a low, dangerous tone. She only smiled. _"Where is my mother, you bitch?!"_ I screamed. _  
_

She made quiet, _tsk-tsk _noises, clicking her tongue and shaking her head back and forth as she stood slowly. The black fabric sashayed around her knees, dancing and fluid as shadow. "Now, really, Natalie, what would she say about that language of yours?" She left her purse where it was on the floor, my mother's phone still inside, as she took a few steps towards me. She leaned into her walk, moving with catlike, animalistic grace. Her shoes-flat, without high heels- made loud, echoing noises throughout the entire lobby, each one like a strike. In the corner of my eye, I saw Clint heading towards the fire alarm. Natasha and Steve had fallen into position around me, and Loki…

I'd thought that Loki might be standing, petrified on the other end of the room. After all, just when you think things can't get any worse, they invariably will, right? But the Norse god of Mischief was standing directly next to me, just slightly behind, covering my back. Fear was very much alive inside of him; for us to form our bond in battle now would mean that fear would spread to me; and currently, we could not afford that. But he was still here. Still ready to fight.

Thor had been right, all that time ago. Loki was many things, but he was no coward.

"Where is she?" I repeated, shaking from head to toe. The fire alarm suddenly blared into life; Clint wanted everyone to evacuate out of the building, I was certain. Everyone in the lobby who was not completely engrossed in whatever the hell was going on with us started towards the doors; but Fraye's smile only stretched as those few standing in here left, evil honey-haired receptionist included. Shadows suddenly flicked into life beside the stairway doors, blank black walls that blocked off all exits; stairs, elevators, everything, locking us, trapping us inside the lobby…

And trapping everyone else who was still inside upstairs.

"It really is quite fun, Natalie," She purred, slinking across the room and over to me. She began circling us; all of us. Step by step. We made certain that one person had an eye on her at all times as she walked around us, surveying, studying. "Oh, all of your little friends fascinate me, it's true." I thought I saw blood dribbling out of the corner of her mouth as she took an unexpected step towards Steve; the Captain tightened his grip on his shield. "The Soldier, out of his time, all of his friends and family gone… such a challenge, to find a weakness in a man who has nothing…" she giggled, stepping back again. Her black gaze flicked between Clint and Natasha; the Hawk had drawn back an arrow, aiming it from across the room at the Shadow Child. "And then, of course, there are the spies… with so much red on their hands, I find it a wonder that they think they have _any_ place to _judge_ my favorite little plaything here…" She cooed out the last words, her hand reaching out to stroke Loki across the shoulders… the edges of the world turned absolutely pitch black as the rest of my vision turned crimson… I was so furious that I almost passed out. How dare she use that name, how dare she say those words, how dare she touch Loki, how dare she damage him again, how dare she speak to Steve like that, to Clint and Natasha, how _dare _she even _exist…?_

"And then of course, Thor and the Iron Man offer some interesting prospects as well, but _you!_" She tilted her head back and laughed, her hand not leaving Loki's shoulder. She was no longer circling, and the way her hand dug claws into Loki… it was almost… _possessive. _Loki was doing an incredible job of hiding his fear, of hiding his true, mortal terror… but I could feel it. Everything inside him was straining to flee, whilst everything inside of me was dying to fight.

"Well, you're something special, Natalie." Fraye said with a toothy smile. "It's not many people who will do what you did. Oh, I've seen my fair number of those who want to figure me out, want to figure people like _him _out." On 'him', she squeezed Loki's shoulder ever tighter. He still did not move; everyone was looking to Steve for the command to go, to fight… everyone but Loki. Loki was looking directly at me, and I at him. We weren't Avengers. We followed our own rules. Our own command.

"But not one of those people had this…" she kept up the playful grin as she considered the word, "_Connection _to someone else. The fact that _you, _of all people, bound yourself so irrevocably to _my _favorite little toy…" she chuckled, shaking her head; her black curls bounced around her features as she did so. "You have no idea what you have _done, _mortal. What you have condemned yourself to; what you have condemned _him _to."

Despite everything, despite the monster within tearing me into shreds, despite the flames devouring me whole, despite the bright vengeance that was coursing through my veins… a warning bell sounded off in the back of my head, a relic of the old days, the time before the fire and the fury, a time when sense and reason and logic _meant _something… a warning to listen, to remember this later. The shrink in me never truly died, not even when the monster had taken its place. I would almost have said that she was speaking from personal experience…

But for now, I was too angry to ask her about it, to elaborate on it. I simply watched as her nails dug even further into his shoulder; Loki was absolutely petrified. Only I, looking directly at him, could see the fear in his eyes… but it was definitely there. Flashes of memory were dancing across his mind, terrible times of darkness and blood, with the sounds of his own screams echoing in his ears…

Slowly, Fraye lowered her blood-red lips to his ear; he could feel her breath, colder than even his icy skin, as she stage-whispered, "But don't ever forget, my little giant. You may lay claim to this mortal …" Her hand released his shoulder at last, drifting down to his back, fingertips brushing across his shoulder blades… "But _you _will _always _be _mine," _she hissed; the words came through her teeth, and for the first time there was venom coating them… Loki cried out as the scars on his back-I knew they were there, he had told me so himself- reacted to her touch, the shadows that infected each wound writhing inside of his skin, craning to reach their master… They cut and burned with each renewed touch, for Shadow Scars never truly heal, never truly stop causing pain…

It was over. The bubble was out, the glow was flared, and I was launching myself at Fraye, completely lost to reason and sense and thought.

I actually landed a punch on her; not because she didn't see me coming, but because she couldn't be bothered to react quickly enough. She slid backwards with the blow, and as I raised my fist to strike again, the shadows swarmed, pushing me away… Fraye chuckled, brushing out her dress, not looking unruffled in the slightest as the shadows battled against me and I against them, trying to tear through them as they tried to tear into me… the Avengers were surrounding me in seconds, fighting the shadows, and Loki was beside me, but our minds were not as closely linked as they had been before, my pure and utter loathing keeping me from thinking long enough to do so…

"You keep your filthy paws off of him!" I screeched at her, pushing through the darkness as it tried to swallow me whole. Fraye watched, an amused half-smile on her features as I struggled and strained towards her, towards the light behind her. I burned my glow brighter, hotter, and the shadows receded a touch; I pulled myself towards Fraye, but the shadows pulled back, long, thin strands fighting against the movements. It was like moving through tar. "You keep your hands off of him, you give me back my mother, you get off of my planet and you stay _the hell away from us!" _

I was inches away from Fraye by now, but the shadows were closing around my arms, holding them behind my back, clinging onto the force field that had become my second skin… Fraye just chuckled softly.

"Oh, relax," she said flippantly, waving a careless hand. "I'd never do anything to hurt poor, sweet, mommy Frost." And then the smile flicked back onto her face. "Except, you know. Maybe this."

I kept thrashing inside of the darkness; the shadows had swallowed Natasha, and though Clint was keeping them off of him by firing arrow after arrow into each shadow that attempted to strike him, it was looking like more and more of a lost cause with each second. Steve was holding most of them off with his shield; he and Loki were working together on that front, and seemed to be better off because of it. Loki's face looked pale and ashen, sweat beading on his forehead even as he fought… everyone was a little slower than usual, after all, we'd just been training for hours beforehand already…

Fraye retrieved her purse and pulled something out from inside it; a tiny cardboard box. She shook it next to her ear; it rattled a few times, and she seemed to take delight in the sound… I expanded my bubble out to circular form, throwing off all shadows around me; but this time I had learned my lesson, and shrank it back down before the shadows could swarm inside of my weakness, placing it back in front of my mouth… it was only then that I realized that I had never before had this kind of control over the bubble… not without Loki's help, at least. But that was no more than a passing thought; I was charging at Fraye again.

She opened the little box, pulling out a single, small piece of wood with a red tip; a match. She lit it against the side of the box, and just before I could reach her, a thousand shadows converged on the flame, swamping it, putting it out, swallowed by it…

And then, suddenly, they exploded.

I was protected; I had my force field to keep the fire from burning me as they flared outwards, the flaming darkness exploding away from that small match tip… it brushed past us and caught fire to _everything, _the shadows seeping into the dark corners of the room and the fire spreading wherever they touched… Steve shielded Natasha from the black-and-orange explosion, the two of them dropping to the ground and half-hiding behind some piece of furniture… Loki would've caught a great deal of the blast if I had not thought to send my bubble outwards, a wall between him and the flames… Clint was the unluckiest of us all, managing to get behind the receptionist's desk just in time, though his sleeve and pant leg caught fire, and he cried out, rolling on the ground to put it out…

"Bottom floor, ladies and gentlemen! No other way out!" Fraye announced, throwing her arms out wide as the fire caught on the walls, the ceiling… I hadn't thought it possible for it to eat through anything so quickly, but the building was being reduced before my eyes; ash and smoke filled the air as the blackness disappeared, and only the fire remained…

"You have a choice!" She shouted, pointing one small, bony finger towards the fire exits, still clogged with shadow. "You can follow me…" She grinned. "Or you can save everyone in here. _Everyone. _Including Mrs. Anna. Rose. Frost." She broke my mother's name into four separate sentences and threw out her hands again. "Your choice!"

She started towards the door. Everything in me was screaming to follow, to destroy her… but the flames were choking everything, making it impossible to breathe… we had to get everyone _out… _

Why? Why was she giving us this choice? Why hadn't she just vanished into shadow if she wanted to disappear? Why had she even bothered to do this to us in the first place? What had been the point of this little charade, this little game?

There it was. Right there.

This was a _game._

She didn't care about the consequences. If something didn't seem to make sense, then it probably _didn't. _It was all one big joke to her, something to amuse, a little bit of fun.

I didn't allow myself to keep thinking about it. Thinking wouldn't get me anywhere. My mother was in this building. She was here, somewhere, amid this smoke and ash and flame… the fire inside of me did nothing to help things, I was sure…

Steve was already running towards the shadowed exits; the blackness dispersed around it with one touch, and he threw them open. A stampede of people, clogged inside after Clint had pulled the alarm, all started running out. I was quick to follow in this plan, throwing open the other doors and escapes, and people charged past us, not seeming to notice that half of us were in costume and the other half were freaks…

Well, _I _was the only freak, glowing as I was… but no one stopped as they caught sight of the fire, only ran towards Clint and Natasha, who started directing people out…

"Loki, with me!" I shouted above the crackling, raging inferno, heading inside as the flow of people in one of the staircases slowed to a trickle. "Steve, keep the others down here! Loki and I will take the upstairs!"

He froze; distrust burned in all eyes, brighter than the flames, but before I could scream to him that _we _were the most indestructible of the current group, that Loki could partially control fire despite his general distaste for it (he was a _Frost _Giant, after all), Rogers nodded. "Go!" He shouted, gesturing us away with a wave. "Hawkeye, Widow!" I heard his order grow dimmer as Loki and I ran inside. I felt Natasha's stare on my back, but ignored it. Now was not the time. "Get these people out of here!" Steve's final order faded to nothingness as I ran up the stairs.

There were too many floors; we were never going to make it in time. I ran to the first as Loki began examining the second, calling out for people to run… there were a few stragglers here and there, but as I made it to the third floor and he to the forth, those numbers diminished. I could smell the smoke, could imagine the floor getting weaker beneath me as I ran… dimly, somewhere in the back of my mind, Loki and I both wondered why he was even bothering to do this, why he was trying to save the lives of mortals… But we pushed that question aside and blamed me for it. My influence tended to be what got him into trouble all the time, these days.

There were way too many floors. I was getting exhausted, and the smell of smoke was following me, polluting my air. I couldn't _breathe… _but still I ran. I was desperate; what if we missed someone? What if we didn't get everyone out, what if someone died because I wasn't fast enough…?

I pushed my legs harder.

"_Natalie!" _I heard Steve's voice bark into my earpiece. I'd almost forgotten I was wearing it. _"Get out of there! The building's about to collapse!" _

I ignored him and kept running, though Loki changed course. Seeing that I was not doing the same, he asked warily, _Frost…?_

_Go,_ I told him. _I'll be fine._

He saw my plan. Didn't like it. _Even if your shield protects you from the building's collapse, you will still not have time to search every floor._

_I can try. _

He felt the tears in my eyes. He felt the stitch in my side as I made myself run faster, the sobs hitching in my throat. It was more than likely that everyone had gotten out. That they had all ran for the exits the second that the fire alarm had started. But if there was _one _casualty today, then it would be one too many.

Fraye had spilled enough blood.

He hesitated, then started towards the exit. _Let us hope you know what you are doing, Miss Frost._

I nodded curtly, knowing that he would feel this gesture if not see it, and kept searching. I hadn't expected him to stay, anyway. He wouldn't take too great of a risk on his life just for the sake of some mortals that may or may not be here. I felt him taking the stairs, felt him moving amid the fire, untouched by the nightmarish flames… but they had reached a higher floor than I'd expected… I was running out of time…

I no longer searched each floor; instead, I called out to each one and hoped for the best, hoped that anyone inside would have the sense to call back. If there was anyone, they said nothing. I had to force myself to keep moving after each one, frightened that I would miss something, that their cries might not be loud enough… I had to resist the urge to search the entire floor anyway; time, after all, was slipping through my grasp, eluding me.

"_Where's Natalie?" _I heard Steve ask of Loki, listening in to his thoughts without really processing them. Just running. Losing myself to the ache in my legs, in my lungs.

"_She stayed behind."_

"_And you __**let **__her?"_

"_Have __**you **__ever been able to control her?" _There was a bite in Loki's response. It was mild, but it was there.

"_NATALIE!" _Steve's words blared in my ear. I tore the earpiece out and threw it aside. I didn't even stop moving. _"Natalie, come in!" _His voice still continued in my head, transferred through Loki's thoughts. I didn't care. I was running. I had to save someone. I had to save everyone.

To this day, I wonder what kept me going. What kept me running. Why I didn't turn back then and there, why I was so bloody _certain _that there was _someone _else there, _someone _else left to save. There wasn't. It wasn't like there was some little kid trapped on the top floor, curled in the corner, crying out for mommy. It wasn't like there was _anyone _that needed my help. But something drew me onwards, running away as fast as I could from the flames that were beginning to catch up to me… I could feel their heat on my back, the warmth burning through my shield… the smoke was thick, impossible to see through. I couldn't breathe.

"You just don't know when to quit, do you?" A hyper, girlish giggle sounded from a few steps before me. Fraye leaned against the wall, black eyes entirely dead despite the brilliant grin on her face. "I knew it would be you. Out of everyone, I knew _you'd _be the one to do this. To make sure." She shook her head out. I didn't even slow down as I tore past her, ignoring her. "You're so…"

I didn't hear what I was… not for another two floors. And then she was in front of me again, finishing her sentence as though there hadn't been even a second's pause. "_Predictable._"

I disregarded her, pretended that her words did not exist. Something was drawing me onwards. I had the sickening feeling that it was her. There was no one left in the building. No one left to save. I was all alone in this burning inferno, all alone in the world as the ceiling began to crumble, as the entire building shook and collapsed around me…

I cried out as I fell, down, down, down the floors, colliding with the ground… I slumped against the wooden pillars and metal beams as they were crushed beneath me, my weight and the unstoppable force of my shield reducing them to splinters and squashed metal as I collapsed. Still alive. I was still alive. I looked up, seeing the shaft of light bleeding through where I had fallen. The flames were all around me; I was breathing them in…

The shadows swirled and danced, clearing the flames away from me as I choked and coughed and retched. I had to keep moving. I had to keep going up. I'd fallen a few floors, but I had to keep climbing, to get to the top…

_No!_ Loki ordered. _You are __**not **__going to get yourself __**killed**__ for this! You are not going to get __**me **__killed for this!_

His words fell on deaf ears, into deaf thoughts. Determination made me lurch forwards, stumbling towards the shadows, which led me down a tunneled path, protecting me from the blaze… I couldn't breathe… I was coughing again, but still I was climbing, climbing up, clambering over the rubble…

"You truly want to die, don't you?" Fraye asked, amusement coloring her tone as sat, perched atop a pile of rubble, legs crossing, then uncrossing, her feet kicking back and forth. They were bare now, pale white amid shadow-black and fire-orange. She seemed perfectly at home in this, the screaming chaos. Truly a creature of nightmares. "Really, Natalie, I'm surprised that you would do that to him. Kill yourself off to save someone else… I mean, what was the point? If you die, you know what will happen to him." She grinned, twirling her finger around one ear in that universal 'coo-coo' sign. "He'll lose his ever-loving mind."

"Stop talking," I growled; but it was weak, and I was coughing before I could even get both words out.

"And then he'll just go crazy again! Then he'll just start killing! Just like last time! Just like with Jotunheim!" her feet kicked back and forth even faster as I crawled on, but I was suddenly weak, exhausted… I didn't have the strength… I couldn't _breathe…_

"And then it would have all been for _nothing,_" She stressed, still in that girly, careless tone. "April's death, your attempts to 'forgive' him, your link with him… kaput! Meaningless! People will die because _you _did, because he won't be able to _live _without you! Your link was only ever a temporary solution, Natalie; did you really think it would _mean _something when your mortal lifetime ran out?"

"You don't know that!" I shouted against the smoke, clutching my chest, gasping for air. I forced myself to my feet and was moving again, feeling as though every step was bringing me closer and closer to a burning, ashen grave… "You don't _know _that's what would happen! You don't _know _that's what he'd become!"

She pursed her lips, like she'd just tasted something sour, though her eyebrows were still arranged like this was some big joke. Her eyes, however, were completely, totally, and utterly dead. Lifeless. Blank.

"Of course I do, Natalie," she said, sounding almost taken aback. "Didn't Loki tell you?"

I gave her a dark look. If Loki had told me anything, then she would know. Her games were getting old. Besides, in the back of my head, Loki seemed as perplexed by her words as I was. Well, that and mortally terrified by the fact that I was this helpless in front of her…

She shrugged, her small shoulders pointing inwards as she did so. "It's what happened to _me._"

She laughed at my stunned expression. My mind was whirling, faster than fast, to click all the pieces into place. "Oh, but where are my manners? I was supposed to save you right now, wasn't I?" She winked at me. "Can't have _you _dying just yet. The possibilities between you and my little giant are _endless!_"

The shadows suddenly wrapped around me, cradling me… I didn't have the energy to fight them off. I fell limp inside of them as Loki fought to keep from freaking out… and then I was thrown away, thrown from their grasp, launched into the air…

I collided with the wall, breaking a hole through it and was suddenly falling, falling, falling, plummeting to the earth at breakneck speeds… the shield locked me in place against it in anticipation for the inevitable collision… I landed with incredible force, digging a crater in my general shape as people screamed and ran aside… my arms, I only now realized, were raised in an 'X' above my face, protecting it, hiding it, shielding it away from the rest of the world…

I couldn't move. Every muscle felt rigid and tense and painful. But someone's hand clasped around mine-not Loki's, he was still making his way towards me- and from what the Trickster saw, it must have been Steve's. He helped me to my feet, subconsciously shifting in front of me, hiding my face, keeping people from seeing me.

"Fraye," I gasped out, still finding it impossible to breathe. I took a step forwards and stumbled, almost falling to the ground again; Steve kept me upright as Loki joined us. The Soldier handed me over to the Trickster, barking out the order, "Get her to the car," and turning to the crowd.

"No…" I protested feebly as Loki's arm locked around my waist, keeping me upright. "My mother… I have to find my mom…"

Loki firmly steered me towards the car, Natasha flanking my other side as Clint and Steve dealt with the crowd. "We can't let them see you," Natasha hissed to me. "Either of you," she added to Loki, who nodded once. It was unlikely that anyone would recognize him-his face had mostly been hidden in the chaos of what had happened in his first attack on earth- but we couldn't take chances anymore. This had escalated into a bigger emergency than we'd anticipated; and now that Fraye was gone, we could afford to be more on the cautious side when it came to our identities. But Fraye was not gone. Loki and I knew as much; she was still there, still in the building…

"No," Loki whispered; just low enough for me to be certain that Natasha could not hear it. "She is not."

He seemed confident, and I did not question him. I had more pressing concerns than the Planet-Killer. My mother was still missing. As Natasha helped Loki get me into the car and the Trickster sat in the back with me, taking shelter inside the heavily tinted windows, I struggled to get away from him. But the smoke, more than anything, had taken a lot out of me; I was coughing and hacking for a full three minutes after Natasha closed the door behind us. By the time I was finally finished, my fingers were tingling from lack of oxygen, and my lungs felt like someone had ripped them out of my chest, whacked them a few times with a baseball bat, then shoved the whole squishy mess back inside. The shield, I only now noticed, had died around me, though the glow was still alive and bright, brighter than usual. I shivered from head to toe, but no longer out of rage, and most certainly not from the cold. It was an agonizing feeling, but I couldn't quite identify the reason for it.

Loki was watching me from the seat beside me, keeping his distance, making note of the intervals between my coughs and surveying me closely. His eyebrows were pulled together, an expression almost of… irritation. But though this was what his face portrayed, it did not seem to be his true emotion. He was… _mildly _concerned, and thus irritated because of it- he hated having to care about what happened to me- but other, more troubling thoughts were clouding his mind. Specifically, what Fraye had said.

For the first time, however, I was not interested in what had made Fraye into what she was. I was still angry at her. Furious at her. All of those people… she would have burned them alive, just for her stupid little game… I wanted her dead, not fixed, and that scared me a bit. I'd forgiven Loki for some pretty grave atrocities, even before this link had made us the way we were; why could I not do the same for Fraye?

Then again, the instant Loki had touched April, the tables had turned. The instant he touched friends and family, I'd wanted him dead. Mostly. I got used to the idea after a while, gotten used to the nightmares about my family being killed… but still…

I looked out the window, suddenly wishing that I had not destroyed my earpiece. I wanted to know the _instant _that one of them found my mother. I wanted her here, I wanted her safe, I wanted this all to be over. But instead, I was waiting, alone in the car with Loki.

Alone.

Alone with _Loki._

The fact hit me, a bolt from the blue, and a welcome distraction. The Avengers- or at least Natasha and Steve- had trusted me and Loki to be here, alone, in a car. With chaos and confusion all around, where it would be ever-so-easy for the two of us to just slip away, to disappear from their sight forever, to escape them… A little bit of pride forced its way into my chest, taking the edge off of the fear and panic and rage. But it was short-lived; in seconds, the grimness in the air sapped away any kind of pride, any kind of hope.

I leaned with my elbows on my thighs, my head lowering between my knees as I strained to breathe… I was exhausted. Not _sleepy, _per say; if I was given the biggest, plushest bed in the world right now, I doubted I could _sleep. _But I _was _tired nonetheless. I wanted this to be over. I wanted my mom to be safe, I wanted to be back at the Tower with the Avengers, with my family… I didn't want to have to explain things to my father, didn't want to have to go over everything with my mother, I just wanted to go home, knowing that everyone was all right, then curl up in a ball on my bed and cry myself out. No… no, I was too tired to cry. I didn't know _what _I wanted to do.

"I did not wish to tell you," Loki's voice was quiet. I turned to him. "You were so… selectively oblivious. You believed that you could keep this… connection with me, without any consequences."

I realized that his train of thought was very different from mine and worked to put mine on the same tracks. I blinked a few times, trying to reorient as he looked away, his green eyes almost… sad.

"I had no idea that… that _this _was the reason that Fraye became what she is…" he went on, not looking at me. "But… if that is the case…" His eyes were almost- _almost- _pleading as he turned back to face me. "What is to stop one of us from doing the same, should the other die?"

I swallowed; my throat, already raw and sore from the smoke inhalation, now felt thick and gooey as well.

"And you _will _die, Frost," he went on, "That is… inevitable. You are mortal." He looked down. He was listing each fact with a dull monotone, with only the volume of his voice-or lack thereof- to indicate the fear behind each word. "If we survive this… If we survive Fraye… I will outlive you."

I flinched. Imagining it, the emptiness where his head now was… cut off from him, ripped away from him… His thoughts no longer with me, no longer hearing his sarcastic remarks, no longer seeing his green eyes, no longer feeling his feelings, no longer having his heartbeat beside my own… _I _couldn't live in a world like that. He was, perhaps, stronger than me, he, perhaps, could live without me, but why would he try? Why would he _try _to keep himself from losing his mind, from devastating worlds in _his _anger, in an attempt to fill up that void, to fix _his _pain? If this had happened to Fraye, then that was _exactly _what _she_ was doing; why wouldn't he? He'd gone on crazy rampages for less. He had _always _turned his pain into hatred for the world, had _always _blamed the world for what had happened to him…

So if I died, and he did not… then this really _would _have been for nothing. My attempts to save lives by keeping him from killing people… it would have been pointless. People would still die, whether I stayed with Loki or not. And now… well, now I was past the point of no return, now I had no _choice… _

And… and if _Loki _died… if_ I_ was left in that abyss…

What was to stop _me _from becoming exactly like Fraye?

What would keep mefrom becoming a killer, a murderer? I had the ability, didn't I? Did I not have the monster within? What was to stop _me _from being _just like her? _

The thought made me sick just thinking about it, made me feel like I was riddled with filth, like I needed a long shower to rid the grime from my skin, like I needed boiling hot water to scald out the impurities from my veins. I tried to force the worries to one side, though they remained, rattling around in the back of my brain. Loki seemed oblivious to my current state; he had worries of his own.

"I tried not to remind you of this," he said after a moment. "I tried to allow you your selective ignorance. It is bliss, after all." His eyes were out the window, unconsciously scanning the crowd in the same way mine were. Looking for the familiar features of my mother; with no success.

"But you knew," I pointed out, unable to keep the mild, _mild _sting from my words. I wasn't strong enough to be angry at him as well as everyone else. "You've been worried about this for a while now." I looked to him. "Haven't you?"

He did not look back. I sighed and glanced to the window again.

"You don't have that right. To determine which truths I should and should not know, should and should not forget about."

"She told the Norse god of Lies."

I scowled. He gave me a measured, even look, and I turned away. He had a point, I hated to admit. I allowed him as much freedom as was physically possible with our link; allowed him to keep secrets, if they weren't central to what was happening, allowed him to have his own private thoughts when he knew every one of mine… Ignorance may have been bliss, but knowledge was power, and no one knew that better than Loki. If there was something he knew that he _could _keep to himself, then he _would, _simply for the sake of having that power for himself. He thought things through, determined the importance of every little detail, before he shared _any _information with me; or pointed out information that I already knew. He was a liar, he lied all the time, and if he could not lie, then he would not tell the truth, either. It was simply his nature.

We fell silent for a very long time, my hands twisting about in my lap. It felt odd, to be sitting perfectly still inside this car, while chaos reigned all around us, people screaming and crying as the building continued to collapse, to fall inwards on itself, to be reduced to ash and rubble… and all the while, inside our little silent space, there was no sound but our quiet breathing, no screams and no smell of blood. Just us. Silent. Alone.

I leaned on my hand and looked out the window, knowing that they were tinted, that no one could see me. My every muscle ached. I was bruised all over, though as usual, my bubble had helped me escape cuts and any major injury. I was just so _tired…_

"Frost," Loki's voice was the first thing that alerted me to the Avengers walking towards the car; I hadn't even been paying attention to his thoughts anymore. We'd been linked almost all day during training; I wanted to be myself more than I wanted to be him right now.

I turned to see what he was looking at and saw them, Clint and Natasha and Steve, moving towards the car in a calm fashion, helping someone along.

"Mom!" I exclaimed, exhaling a huge sigh of relief. I jammed my hand against the unlock button and climbed over the seat so that I was in the back, as opposed to the far back, where Loki remained. He shied away from us, away from my mother's searching eyes, as though knowing that they would narrow in judgment the second she caught sight of him. Currently, however, my mind was far from Loki and anything he was doing.

I wrapped my arms around my mother; it was an awkward position in the cramped car, but neither of us seemed to care as she hugged me in return, holding me close. I could feel quiet sobs making her body tremble, could see small trails left in the grime on her face where tears had fallen down her cheeks, and I held her tighter.

"It's ok now, mom, you're gonna be ok…" I whispered to her, fighting back my own tears. "It's gonna be all right…"

"What are you doing here?" She asked, pulling back, half-hysterical. "I mean… how did you know… the building… the fire…?" She was looking around at all of the Avengers-Loki took a deep breath in preparation as her eyes touched him, but she seemed blind to his presence.

"That doesn't matter right now, mom," I answered quickly. Because Fraye had my mother's phone. It was _her _I'd talked to; not Anna Rose. But my mother didn't need to know about Fraye just yet; and so instead I placed my arm around my her shoulders. "It doesn't matter anymore," I whispered. "You're ok now. That's all that matters. We'll explain everything once we get back to the Tower."

Her eyes had still been whipping around, searching the faces of everyone inside the car. As Clint turned the key in the ignition and the engine purred into quiet life, my mother's gaze found Loki. Her eyes darted up and down his entire frame. Natasha was sitting next to him-I'd taken her earlier seat, after all- but was not looking at him; the two of them were both looking out of their respective windows, ignoring everything that was currently happening. Ignoring us.

My mother scanned the Trickster, and recognition seemed to click into place on her features. She'd never seen Loki herself before, but I'd described him a few times; the slicked-back black hair (now ever-so-slightly ruffled from both training and the latest scuffle with Fraye) the green eyes, the narrow cheekbones, the green-themed clothes…

Her eyes widened in horror. I swallowed.

"We'll explain _everything,_" I re-emphasized.

The car drove on.


	10. Bare My Skin, Count My Sins

**A/N: -_- I'm sure you all can guess what I'm going to say now. *ahem* Sorry for the late update, as usual. Blah. I tried to make it a semi-decent length, though. It's still inexcusable, I know… But look! Shiny distraction! *runs***

* * *

The joy on my parents' faces as they reunited was unparalleled. Relief made the two run together, melt into each other's arms, hold each other so closely that you were certain that they could never break apart. It was beautiful. It should have been beautiful. I wanted it to be beautiful.

Instead, I looked away in revulsion.

The Avengers and I gathered around the conference table with my parents to answer any and all questions they had. Only Thor remained absent; watching over his brother, who had been confined to his room for the duration of this particular meeting. Loki remained a silent wall in the back of my mind, his mental defenses up in full force as he stayed, sitting on the floor, his legs folded, spear in one hand as he concentrated. He had a great deal to think about, after all; and a majority of it was not things he wished for me to hear. I left him alone. I had more pressing concerns.

Each of my parent's questions was difficult; it was, after all, a very difficult subject. We explained, in the best detail we could, exactly what this new threat was, who 'Agent Burns' had really been, what the true reason was for the fire that had consumed my mother's workplace. We told them about Fraye's first appearance, about her terrible abilities, about her carefree transition from simpering, cowering child into insane, cackling adult.

And then we got to Loki.

Every question took about fifteen minutes to respond to, the answers getting more and more complicated as time went on. I tried desperately to remain polite and political about the whole thing, reverting to my usual tactics that I maintained around the S.H.I.E.L.D. council, or the Asgardians: calm face, straight spine, cool, unheated words. It didn't get easier as time went on; only harder and harder. Each of my father's questions began to hide barbs and stings, venomous strikes, until finally, _finally, _I pushed myself away from the table and removed myself from the room, sneering through my teeth, "Excuse me. It's been a long day, and I'm 'emotionally compromised'."

And then I stalked out of the exit, leaving a trail of ash behind in my footsteps, Tony's loud snort ringing in my ears.

I took a shower. A _long _shower. Loki kept his thoughts to himself as I allowed the water to wash away the day, as I scrubbed the cinders out of my skin and the scent of smoke from my hair with foamy white bubbles. As I stepped out and wrapped myself in a towel, I expected myself to smell cleaner, to feel fresher. Instead, all I could smell was blood. Blood everywhere. Staining me.

I stepped back into the shower and stayed there until the water ran cold. And then I stayed until my veins did the same.

The stench of blood still didn't vanish entirely; it was merely hidden beneath the perfumed scents of my shampoo. I hoped no one else would notice. I wished everyone would. Maybe then they'd see me as I really was.

After I got dressed again, I didn't go back into the meeting for a while. Instead, I headed for the roof until the Avengers called me back at around midnight. I was exhausted. I was so tired I could collapse. But never once did I even think about closing my eyes. Never once did I even consider lying down. It was a horrible thought.

I met up with the Avengers back in the conference room. My parents were in their own room, dealing with things in their own ways, and quite possibly already asleep. They were going to stay at the Tower for a few days until S.H.I.E.L.D. could find a suitable place for them. I called bullshit; S.H.I.E.L.D. could have them out of here in minutes. They just thought they were safer here than anywhere else, even with Loki hanging around. They were full of it. My parents were safer somewhere far, far away from us. Away from me.

Clint was pissed. It started almost the moment that I entered the conference room, and it didn't end until long into the secondary meeting. I hadn't 'followed orders'. I hadn't even waited to _listen _for orders. No one had kept a close eye on Loki. They shouldn't have brought him. I could've gotten my parents killed by bringing him. It was my fault, it was Loki's fault, it was my fault, fault, fault, fault, he didn't care, he was blaming someone. He couldn't blame Fraye. Fraye could kick his ass. He could blame me. All I could do was blame back.

Blame and fault and blame and fault and the room was spinning as my skin started glowing again, and the two of us were yelling at each other, screaming, until I lost control of everything that I was saying and started babbling, and I lost memory and sense and reason and I was sobbing, and screaming, and suddenly I was running again, running away, and tears were streaming down my face and my world was turning around and around and around…

I barely made it to the roof before I threw up.

I dropped to my hands and knees as I retched and gagged, as bile overflowed and my stomach heaved and the stars swirled about above me, little silver streaks of light, no longer pinpoints… the beautiful, golden squares of light that decorated each building were now nothing but more spinning randomness, more nausea. A carnival of lights, a Ferris Wheel moving too quickly, an unwanted rollercoaster with a motion-sick little girl sitting in the seat, already stuffed to the brim with cotton candy and kettle corn and pretzels and other junky carnival food…

_And how many people could have died today…?_

I cradled my arms over my stomach, crouched, half-kneeling, sitting on my legs. After a moment that seemed like an eternity, the vertigo stopped. After a second moment that seemed even longer, so did the nausea. I was sitting alone in the cold world, not feeling a bit of it, not feeling the icy wind, numb to the cold. I was only aware of the wind because of its soft whispering in my ears, its gentle tug on my hair. It took me a long time before I could rationally go over everything that had happened to day, before I could even give any thought to what Clint had said.

I hadn't been following orders. I'd been _giving _them. From the moment I'd gotten that call from my father, a new person had emerged, stuffing Natalie Frost aside in a corner. The monster within, of course, but this… this was something new. This wasn't my usual, exploding rage. Ok, never mind, that was _exactly _what it was like. But… I didn't give orders. That wasn't my thing. From the moment I'd met the Avengers, I was nothing more than that crazy chick in the background that might not follow _your _orders, but would never give you ones in return. The one time I'd been given control of what the Avengers were supposed to do, I'd been in my PJs. And they could've done whatever the hell they wanted. They could've listened to me, or not. I didn't care.

But this… taking control, seizing control of _everything… _this wasn't me. This was…

This was _Loki._

He stirred at the mention of his name, but was soon plunged deep into thought again. He and I were no longer paying attention to each other tonight. We had too much thinking to do.

I realized that I was gnawing on my nails, but felt no real inclination to stop. Loki was influencing me. Not intentionally, probably, but influencing me nonetheless. _He _would take control. _He _would boss people around. _He _would do the things that I had done, _he _would not accept no for an answer, _he _would have dragged his ally into the field whether the others liked it or not. His motives may have been very different from mine, but did motives really matter? The ends we wanted to achieve varied, but the means remained the same. And they, perhaps, remained unjustified.

_Was it really all that bad? _A nagging little voice whispered in the back of my head; a nagging little voice that, for once, was not Loki. A voice that was all me. _What you did today wasn't so awful. It was an emergency. At least no one __**died. **__ And yeah, you snapped at a few people and got a little bossy. But your __**parents **__were in danger. The Avengers understand. _

_**Clint **__didn't. _I growled in return, and the nagging little voice stopped. But its words still haunted me. Was I being too hard on myself? Or not hard enough? Was the monster slipping its leash, or was it still firmly chained? Was I a good guy, trying not to be bad, or a bad guy, trapped into being good?

My skull felt like it was splitting open. I needed to talk to someone; someone far removed from this nonsense, someone who could stop me from thinking too much, stop me from falling prey to my own introspection. I needed a normal friend. I needed _April. _

But with everything that was going on, I didn't dare leave the Tower, not even to visit her grave. And if I did, it would have been useless, anyway; talking things out to thin air in the hopes that she could hear me was pointless by now. It helped before, but I couldn't see it doing the same thing now. I needed to talk to someone who could talk _back. _Who could slap me in the face and snap me out of it.

I debated calling Benny, or Jade, or Adrian or one of my other school friends. But I didn't see the point. I hadn't talked to any of them-save Benny, of course- in forever, and I couldn't let myself get to close to them, anyway. Besides, it was like, two in the morning. That normally wasn't much of a problem- they were _college _students, after all- but it was best not to risk it.

Despite this, however, I _did _get my wish to talk it out with someone; and that person was the last one I'd ever expected.

It was about an hour after I'd first started to think about this, to _over _think about everything that had happened to me today. An hour since I'd even _thought _about talking to someone. Loki had since fallen asleep, and I had let him drift into dreams without saying a word. He was snoring away in the back of my head, curled in silent slumber as his dreams raged with blood and chaos and burning. I was still standing on the roof. I couldn't force myself back inside. Instead of getting more tired, I found myself waking up a little bit more and more with each passing second; sleep deprivation, I guessed. The strange hours I'd been keeping lately were taking their toll, making an effect.

I didn't hear the footsteps behind me for a very long time; not until Natasha was standing directly beside me, seeming to emerge from nowhere. I didn't jump; my survival instinct was fried from its overuse throughout the day. If something snuck up from behind and killed me, then it did. See if I cared.

"Hello, Natalie," she greeted me coolly, politely.

"Hey, Natasha."

She eyed the still-disgusting-but-long-ago-dried vomit on the ground a fair distance behind us. "Having trouble?" She asked innocently, one perfect eyebrow arching. (Damn Avengers all looked _perfect.)_

I sighed heavily and draped my arms over the railing, leaning against it for support, staring down at the city below. "My parents were almost killed, Barton screamed at me for a good hour or two, and I haven't slept right in weeks. What do _you _think?" Sarcasm mode activated. I couldn't be polite for _one second. _

She smiled very softly, leaning against the railing as well, standing next to me. "Clint sees better from a distance, Natalie." She told me slowly, each word considered with great caution. "And right now… he's too close to this to see anything clearly."

I looked to her. Well, that was one way of putting it.

But it got me thinking. Clint, of everyone, had been the most openly opposed to Loki coming here. I understood it; of everyone, Clint had perhaps suffered the most under Loki's hand. It must have burned him up inside, to see that spear back in the Trickster's grasp, knowing what it could do…

I wrestled with a sigh. Yeah, I could see Clint's point. He wasn't really angry at me for everything that had happened today; he was angry at me for bringing Loki back. He was angry at _Loki. _He was angry at this whole situation. I understood that. Hell, I was angry, too.

Maybe I'd put too much of _my _anger on _him, _too…

"And what did you see?" I asked of the Black Widow, scanning her up and down, my mind suddenly whirling at a thousand miles per hour despite my quiet tone. To see her talk about her partner this way indicated that she didn't entirely share his feelings; a rarity. The two of them tended to trust each other's instincts. If one thought something, then usually so did the other. Usually.

She didn't look at me. I wasn't sure if it was part of an act, or what. Wasn't sure if she was pulling her freaky spy crap on me, getting me to let my guard down, giving me information in the hopes of getting some in return. Not like I cared about telling her anything; save, of course, those few things which I was still forced to lie about…

Her fingers flexed out an imaginary drumbeat just once in the air; starting with her pinky and moving down the line of digits towards her thumb. A gesture of concentration. Then, finally, she seemed to find the right words. "Loki is… different around you," She admitted to me at last. "When you discovered that Fraye was after your parents, he didn't hesitate. When you ran into the fire exits to be certain that everyone got out, so did he. I've always known that you have his best interests at heart… but today proved to me that he has yours, too."

I looked to her, blinking, genuinely touched. It was, after all, what I'd been saying all along. I hadn't thought that anyone saw anything today, anything beyond my outrageous anger, my blatant disregard for the usual boundaries.

"If nothing else," She concluded, "Loki seems to care for _you._"

My eyes whipped up to hers abruptly. The words were out before I could stop them, and laced with a barely-noticeable accent; an accent identical to Loki's. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

Her eyes burned holes into me. She noticed. I cursed in my head; was it possible for Loki to not get me in trouble for like, two seconds? Even when he was _sleeping?_

I spoke quickly, before she could get suspicious. Sighing heavily, I turned away, ignoring the laser drilling that her eyes were doing in the side of my face. "Loki doesn't care _for _me." I twisted my fingers about a few times. "Maybe he cares _about _me, but he doesn't care _for_ me."

"And what's the difference?" She asked, letting my temporary slip-up pass, instead choosing to probe deeper into my words, as oppose to my actions. Trying to get a read on me, like I always tried to get a read on her. Something we had in common; we both studied people to get the answers we needed, both searched through the things that people said, the mistakes they made in conversation. We both had to figure people's minds out; for different reasons, in different ways, but that, essentially, was the same.

I gave her my most wry smirk and looked back out to the softly-shimmering skyline. "You know."

She stayed silent, waiting me out until I explained. She must have known I'd go on. Must have known that I _wanted _to go on. These words had been trapped inside of me, bubbling up, trying to clarify themselves and then shout out of my throat, to make themselves known…

"You and me and the Avengers… we'd care _about _anyone. Any random person we met on the streets. We're those kind of people; the kind that will help someone if we can, risk our lives to save civilians, all of it. If there was someone, anyone, any random person, crying in the middle of the sidewalk, and we knew how to help them, we would. We care enough _about _people to dress up in crazy-awesome outfits and risk our necks to kick ass on the surprisingly large number of aliens that have tried to invade our planet."

She smiled very softly at my take on the situation as I trailed off. After a long, weighted moment, I swallowed and went on, much quieter this time.

"To care _for _someone… Well, that's totally different. I care _for _my family, or Thor, or Steve, or…" I flushed. "Well, you. All of you. The Avengers in general. I cared _for _April. These are the people I'd jump in front of a moving bus for, and smile while doing it. The people I'd risk my life for, not because I _have _to, or out of simple kindness, but because I _want _to. Because it would rip me apart if they were gone, because they're my _friends _and _family _and I _love _them." I bit my lip, trying to think of the right way to phrase this. "The link forces Loki to care _about _me. Forces me to care _about _him. No choice involved. He wouldn't try and keep me from being hurt otherwise, wouldn't care less if I died if this wasn't the case." I tilted my head to the stars, not wanting to look at her face, not particularly wanting to know what she was thinking at that moment. I was having a hard enough time getting the words out as it was.

"But… for him to care _for _me… and vice versa… it's like any other friendship. You have to work at it. Build it up from nothing. Earn it." I shrugged. "And, considering what I'm working with, that's probably never going to happen. Loki's got ice where his heart should be." I kept my eyes on the silver, twinkling, pinpoints of light. "Not going to stop me from trying, though," I mumbled.

After she was absolutely silent for a while, I found myself turning to her. "Does that make any sense?" I asked.

Her answering expression was completely unreadable. Not emotionless, but unreadable; I couldn't tell whatshe was thinking. Slowly, _slowly, _she began to nod a few times. "Yes," she said after a moment. "Yes, that makes sense."

We fell silent again, for a very long time. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence. Not in the slightest. I realized suddenly that I actually, truly liked Natasha. Like most of the Avengers, I didn't spend enough time with her, but… I _did _consider her my 'friend', even if I knew that she likely didn't trust me enough-trust _anyone _enough- to think the same.

"Natalie?" She queried suddenly. "If I asked you a question, and asked you to be completely honest, would you lie to me?"

I turned to her, lifting both eyebrows, turning them into a questioning squiggle. "With an introduction like that? Probably, yes."

A half-smile quirked on her lips. But then she turned serious again, her eyes hard. She didn't look at me, her features expressionless, as she shattered my entire world one more time that night. "How long did Fraye have Loki prisoner?"

I blinked. Once. Twice. Natasha was relentless; she turned to face me head-on, turning her entire body towards me, her entire attention on me. "How long did she torture him?"

My heart started racing. My hands began to shake. I looked away quickly, avoiding her eyes. I hadn't promised honesty. I wasn't that stupid. So I was perfectly within my rights to lie like there was no tomorrow. "What makes you think she did?" I asked, keeping my voice surprisingly nonchalant. I'd gotten so much better at lying under pressure. And not having Loki freaking out in my head was a plus, too. It was easier to think without his panic overshadowing my own; so it was a good thing that he was currently asleep, and thus oblivious to this little interaction for now.

Natasha gave me a cold look. Her gaze was even and steady and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't keep myself from looking away, couldn't stop from staring at my hands as I started to pick at my nails. "She didn't," I told a direct lie. This one _wasn't _so good. It would have fooled anyone else, it sounded so easy and natural and smooth… but around Natasha, the false, hollow note rang out with undoubted strength. She wasn't buying it. I knew it even as I said the words, but I had to say them, anyway. "She beat him in a fight long ago. That was it."

"Natalie," she said, her tone not changing in the slightest. "How long did she torture him?"

The repeat of the question only hit harder to me how certain she was of her conclusion. I couldn't believe this. Neither Loki nor I had even begun to guess that Natasha had figured this out. _Natasha _of all people. We were so worried about Clint and Tony and the others who were so vocal in their protests that we'd underestimated one of those few people in the world who had tricked the Trickster. One of the most dangerous people alive.

How could we have been so _blind?_

Natasha spoke the language of lies as easily as Loki did. She breathed deception as well as he. It was just as much in her blood as it was in his. How could I have _missed _this?

But still, I remained obstinately defiant. "She _didn't,_" I said, forcing irritation into my words. It wasn't hard; though I was more irritated at myself than her. "She beat him in a fight. That was _it._"

_She made him afraid. She tortured him. She held him down and made him bleed, she carved those hideous scars into his skin, she laughed as he screamed. She had him for months. But it may as well have been an eternity. That's what it felt like. That's what it __**still **__feels like. She still has him. She's still torturing him. Tormenting him. Because she made him afraid. _

These words bounced around in my head, trying to force my jaw open and manipulate my tongue so that they could spill out. But I kept my teeth clamped firmly shut, kept them trapped inside of me, even as they began to beat against my throat, desperate to be heard. I'd been carrying this secret for too long. No, that wasn't it; _Loki _had been carrying this secret for too long. He needed to tell someone. Anyone. Even Natasha Romanoff. But as it was not my secret to tell, I kept my mouth firmly shut. Locked my lips together and threw away the key, threw it into the ocean, where hopefully a shark would come by and swallow it.

Natasha tried to meet my gaze for the longest time; but I was forced to look away again. Guilt was pressing heavily on my shoulders. I hated lying. I hated being good at it. I hated it.

"He knows more about her than he could learn in a passing encounter," Natasha said slowly. "He would not work with his enemies if she was not a power far greater than anything else; if she did not scare him. And then there's you." Her gaze was still on me. It burned little holes into the sides of my face, eating away at my features. "You were always furious at her; _too_ furious, too _angry,_ for what little she did to you."

My eyes whipped up to her, glad that I could meet her accusation with something at last. I could counter this one. I _could. _I'd spent too long lying not to be able to use it… "What do you mean?" I demanded harshly, spewing out the words. "She pretended to be a helpless little kid. She made me care for her. _Love _her. And then she turned around and stabbed me- stabbed _everyone- _in the back. I trusted her completely and she threw it in my face. I have every _right _to be angry at her."

Natasha waited patiently for my little rant to be over. And when it stopped, she looked me dead in the eye. "But you never _really _trusted her, did you?"

"Of course I did!" I blustered. "She was a weak little girl! Powerless, defenseless! What kind of monster _wouldn't _have trusted her?"

Natasha gave me a look; one that I had only ever seen on her, a gesture that was somehow sarcastic and very slightly accusing all at the same time, a trace of dark humor lurking behind it. "Monsters like us," was her only answer.

I shut up. My eyes went round. It was like she was landing physical blows with each and every one of her statements. In that instant, I was certain: when it came to interrogation, Natasha Romanoff was S.H.I.E.L.D.'s best, hands down, no question. I would never doubt her again, if I had _ever _doubted her before. She read _everyone _just right; knew _exactly _what to say. My brain was putty in her hands; there was no way out of this. She was going to get what she wanted out of me and there was nothing, absolutely _nothing _that I could do about it.

"I thought I trusted her," Natasha admitted to me. "I truly did. But when she turned on us… I realized that I'd known exactly what she was from the beginning. That this was inevitable." Her eyes did more than bore holes into me now; they dug out twisting paths in my eyes, reaching in through the windows of the soul and scanning everything they held. "And I believe you saw it, too. Long before I did."

I turned away, sweat beading on my forehead and trickling down my spine, despite how suddenly cold and clammy I felt. I swallowed, my throat drier than it had been whilst I was in that burning building. Spies don't play fair. At all. Ever.

"Which leads me to another question," she went on, her every word perfectly measured. "Exactly how long were you and Loki planning this?" I swallowed again, but she ignored this and added, "If you were aware of Fraye's true nature from the beginning, then you would have had plenty of time to think of a countermeasure. I assume that _he _was that countermeasure; that you believed we could stop her if we all worked together."

I was speechless. Utterly speechless. All hail the mighty Natasha, because _this_ shrink was _not _worthy of her incredible psych knowledge.

Loki was going to _kill _me when he woke up…

It was this knowledge that prompted me to try one last, desperate attempt at a lie. I laughed; it sounded very, very real. But I knew she was not fooled. "Oh, come _on, _Natasha. You can't be _serious._" I shook my head, as though in disbelief. "I mean, I was as pissed as anyone else when Loki asked to get out of jail. He made me _bow _to him, for crying out loud. Why in the _hell _would I have been… _planning _this with him?" (Not like it was my idea in the first place…) "And he wasn't _tortured. _The two fought it out and he lost. End of story!" I threw my hands up in the air, like I couldn't believe that we were still having this discussion.

"Natalie," despite the absolute smoothness of her tone, despite the gentleness of the word, it cracked in the air like a whip. Mostly because of the way it sounded… like it was… like _she _was… _broken. _

"I know the bond between torturer and tortured very well, Natalie," She whispered quietly. "I have been both. And I would recognize it anywhere. Between any_one."_

These words, above everything else, above all of her previous statements of fact, above everything she had said before, above every bleak word… it was these words that deflated me, that defeated me. These words that let out all of the hot air in my bluster, that made mockery of my false confidence and incredulous cheer. These words that broke me, that stopped the lies in their tracks, that forced the deceptions back down my throat and into my lungs, where they choked and clogged my airways. Because each and every one of these words rang with such undeniable, untouched truth that it was actually physically _painful _to hear them. I looked down again, studying the ground, staring at the roof beneath our feet. How could I be standing so high up, standing so tall… and still feel so tiny and insignificant?

Natasha seemed to sense that I had been broken, for she repeated her original question again. "So how long did she have him?"

I swallowed. There was no point in dishonesty; it wouldn't be believed. There was no point in not answering, either; then she might have told the other Avengers until one of _them _got it out of me. All I could do now was damage control. "A few months," I answered in a rasp of a whisper. I couldn't look at her. I couldn't look at her. I just _couldn't look. _

"He lost track after a while," my voice was feeble and frail and died after those few words. Natasha nodded slowly.

"And how long did you know about Fraye's true nature?"

I swallowed. Tears were threatening in my eyes. All of that work. All of those lies. All of that guilt and pain… it was for nothing. Natasha had seen right through it, seen right through _me_. "A few days after she first arrived," I confessed. "Loki was always suspicious… and eventually, I started to become that way too… It wasn't until later that we found out exactly _who _she was; she never gave Loki her name before. But it was a while before she turned on us."

"And you planned to get Loki out of prison to fight her." This one was not so much a question; just a fact that she was double-checking, though she already knew the answer.

"Yes," the word was inaudible.

"Whose idea was that?"

The question cut deeper than any of the others. If the idea was mine-which it was- then it would show that my first priority-even over the Earth- was Loki. No matter how untrue this was, that was how she would see it. If the idea was _his, _then I was the sucker that had been conned into doing Loki's dirty work. No-win. "Mine," I whispered.

Natasha seemed mildly surprised by the answer. Her eyebrow went up, but she didn't comment on it further. Not yet, anyway.

"Do you really think that this is the best way to fight Fraye? That Loki working together with us is the only way we'll defeat her?"

"We don't have a chance in hell of defeating her," I was surprised to hear myself say. It seemed that I could no longer be dishonest around Natasha; I couldn't even lie to myself. "But fighting with Loki is as close as we're _ever _going to get."

She did _not _seem surprised by _this. _Slowly, slowly she nodded; it was like I was being released from being hypnotized; the snap of the fingers, and I was a slave no longer. She looked away from me, out to the darkness, to the glowing city skyline. I was completely silent for a long time, my mouth sewn shut by my guilt and anxiety, tears rolling down my cheeks.

The two of us were utterly quiet; not a word passed between us for a good twenty minutes. And then I was pleading. Begging. "Please," I whispered in desperation. "_Please. _Don't… Don't tell the Avengers. I…" My words stuttered, and I forced myself to shut up for a moment, to pull myself together. "I don't think he can _handle _that," I said at last, looking up and meeting her eyes for perhaps the first time since this conversation had started. Honesty had broken me. Perhaps it could break her, too. Doubtful; what has already been broken beyond repair will forever remain unbreakable.

"You said you know the bond between torturer and tortured. You said you were both. But I'm your therapist, and you've never _once _talked to me about it." I looked at her. "Why?"

When she did not answer- it was such a ridiculous question, she knew that I already had my answer- I pressed, "Because you _couldn't. _Because you don't _trust _me completely. Because I'm a direct line to your worst enemy." My eyes were still wet. I wiped them off with my sleeve irritably before forcing myself to push through, to keep talking. "You're a good person, Natasha. Could you condemn someone else to being forced to relive that pain in front of _their _worst enemies? In front of _their _foes?" I shook my head out. "Loki doesn't deserve that. No matter what he has done, he doesn't deserve that. No one does."

She considered me for a long time, then looked away. "It may make them more sympathetic towards him," She told me slowly. Appealing to reason. "It may reaffirm his loyalties in this matter." Her hands gripped the railing, and she leaned against them. "It could make both of your lives a great deal easier."

"Could _you_ do it?"

She was silent.

I awaited her reply with bated breath. My lungs were about ready to explode by the time she finally sighed and nodded again.

"He doesn't deserve you," she mused, giving me the most twisted of wry smirks, then shaking her head. "I'll say nothing." There was a beat, and then, "Because… I _do _trust you, Natalie. I don't trust Loki any farther than I could throw him, but _you… _well, I trust you more than that, at least."

"That's not a good analogy for you to use," I pointed out quietly, which earned me a small smile. Well, it wasn't. She could probably throw Loki pretty damn far if she put her mind to it.

"Fair enough," and suddenly she seemed different. Not so cold. Not so dangerous. She'd gotten what she wanted from me, and now we were friends again. I hate spies.

There was another long silence -half of our conversation seemed to be comprised of these pauses- and then I whispered, "I'm sorry I lied."

Her eyes found me again. And again I couldn't look back at her. My face was burning, on fire. "I'm sorry I couldn't… couldn't tell you. But I had to get him out of that cell, don't you see? He was our best chance, and if she found him while he was in that prison, all alone… with nothing but the darkness- _her _darkness- to hide him…"

She stopped me mid-sentence. "It's all right, Natalie." She looked away as well. "You don't have to explain." Her eyes were suddenly distant. "I _am_ a spy, remember? Lying is not something that _you_ invented."

I laughed quietly. "Naw, that was Loki's job." She laughed back, and I found myself suddenly… at ease. A massive weight was off of my chest and shoulders now.

"Everyone has an agenda," She went on, almost silently. I had to strain to hear it. "And I understand you doing everything within your power to achieve yours."

Crack. Psych crack. Not even kidding, I hated the Avengers for this. Every time I thought I had them kinda-semi-puzzled-out, they threw this weird shit my way and tripped me up again. I gave up. They were crazy. Every last one of them was batshit crazy. Loopy. _Loco_. Out of their ever-loving _minds._

"And I won't tell the Avengers about _that_, either," she noted quietly. "What you did to get Loki out of prison… it'll stay secret." She promised, releasing the railing and turning around. "Good night, Natalie."

And just like that, she was gone, her red hair disappearing behind the door as she went back inside of the building. I was left, completely alone… but somehow, _somehow… _I felt… better.

Life is weird like that, sometimes. One second, you think that there's nothing you can do to get your life under control, the next, your secret agent friend has you spilling your guts and everything is fine and dandy.

Loki was still going to kill me, though.

I sighed heavily and released the railing myself, walking back inside. What the hell. Might as well be well rested when I was murdered.

I walked inside, made my way to my room and, leaving the light on, I collapsed onto my bed and was dead to the world in seconds.

* * *

_Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Why can't I be __**dead **__yet?_

_ Blood. Blood everywhere. The Shadow Child's laughter. Death in the air, in the stink around me. Her hand brushes against my back, shadows digging into the same, familiar pattern, as I knew they would… but this does not lessen the agony; it only ever gets worse and worse…_

_ "Remember," She whispers in my ear, purring the words out, honeyed and sweet. "I own you, my little Laufeyson…"_

Loki's eyes flicked open. He blinked once, staring at the ceiling. Light streamed in through the windows, but it was dull and washed out, filtered through gloomy, overcast skies. A cloudy day, with the possibility of rain on the horizon. His brother would know whether or not that was the case.

I loved grey, rainy days. Loki, on the other hand, disliked them. Intensely. The weak light they provided reminded him fiercely of the feeble light of his prison, his cell. And besides that, it was impossible to see those overcast skies without thinking of his brother.

He closed his eyes, taking a long, slow breath, then slowly rose from the bed and stood, doing a routine search of the whispers in the back of his mind, to see what I was doing. Fast asleep. I had been awake even later than he; it was best if I was allowed to stay asleep for now. Loki ran a hand down his face, trying to clear away the lingering nightmares. We had both been plagued by them in recent times; he knew that he would have to discuss them with me, would have to talk with me about the true reason for them, about the effects Fraye was having on our thoughts and dreams… but not now.

He exited the room and nodded towards his current warden, an acknowledging gesture rather than a greeting. It was Romanoff today; a rarity, seeing as she usually selected shifts that were later on at night. She gave him a strange look as he walked past, something far too knowledgeable for his taste, but he ignored this and walked with silent-but-purposeful strides towards the bathroom.

He bathed, changed clothes, and made himself ready for the day; it did not take long. He wished to delay the inevitable, but he knew that he could not. Eventually, gathering himself together with a deep but silent sigh, he forced himself to leave this place and make his way towards the kitchen, where the Avengers tended to congregate. Natasha had left him, after all-something he had not anticipated, as she usually did not trust him alone- and he was not meant to be left 'alone'. Stark would be furious; and he could not afford to make him, nor any of the other Avengers, angry. An unfortunate indignity, but necessary. It was always necessary.

After his short journey through the halls and in the elevator, Loki walked towards the kitchen. He steeled himself before entering, knowing what he would see inside, knowing precisely how his arrival would be greeted. It had been bad enough the first day, with no one but the Avengers around.

But now… well, now there were my parents to contend with as well.

They were both inside, as he'd suspected they would be, sitting directly beside each other on the other end of the kitchen. Arranged around the room were three of the Avengers: Rogers and Barton at the table beside the two humans, and Thor scanning the contents of the cupboard. On seeing Loki, Rogers and Barton both stiffened, with the latter shifting very subtly closer to Cameron and my mother. Thor, on the other hand, smiled briefly at his brother before resuming his search, seeming oddly… cheerful.

Imbecile.

Loki turned his cold gaze to my parents, then looked to the Soldier, thinking him the most likely candidate to answer his question. No, that was not true; the most _likely_ candidate was Thor. But Rogers was currently the _best _option.

"Where is Banner?" Loki inquired in a smooth, even tone; almost a whisper, but not quite. If he was forced to spend time alone with one Avenger, he knew that I would have selected Bruce. And he trusted my judgment on this matter, if nothing else. Banner was, after all, the mildest member of this particular group of misfits.

"Fourteenth floor," Rogers answered smoothly, giving Loki an almost apologetic grimace, clearly aware that this floor was 'off limits' to the Trickster. "Natalie still sleeping?" He inquired; for they all knew that Loki would not be searching for a place to be –and a person to be around- if I were awake.

Cameron shifted at the mention of my name, but his narrowed eyes did not leave Loki. My mother clutched his arm carefully, and fear was very plain in her eyes, which also stayed on Loki. She was gripping Cameron's shirt sleeve so tightly that her knuckles were turning white, and her face was pale, bloodless.

"Aye," Loki responded mildly. "I… thought it best, considering…" he trailed off, and his eyes clicked on my parents temporarily. And then he looked back to Steve. "Everything she went through yesterday."

Clint snorted in clear disbelief. Cameron's eyes narrowed even further, into thin slits. My mother, however, blinked once. Her eyes went to Loki's face at last, as opposed to watching his hands, as she had been. No longer looking to what would strike her, and instead looking to his features. Confusion crept into the back of her expression.

"Well, Stark's in the lab," Steve added, though his voice was doubtful. He didn't trust Stark, either. Loki was somewhat taken aback by the Captain's concern; but then, he knew the value of soldiers in a war. Even if they were not the men he would have chosen. "And Natasha's two floors up, in the gym." Again, his voice clearly showed his reservations.

"Perhaps it would be best if I returned to my quarters," Loki said slowly, making as if to duck out of the room. "Natalie is… nearby, if not conscious." His voice leaked uncertainty. The Avengers would not trust him on his own. But they would not trust him around my parents, either. Still… he did not wish to be around Stark or Romanoff alone.

But he saw no other option.

"Or perhaps you should join me, brother," Thor chimed in, his voice… careful. Neutral, as far as he could be. Thor was not as well practiced at hiding his emotions as Loki. "In the library?"

Library. The very word was a temptation. Books were one thing his prison was sorely lacking; and while these might be Midgardian, perhaps he may find one that suited his interests… There had been one or two that I had read that caught his eye on occasion…

Loki's eyes remained on his brother for a very long, very tense moment. And then, slowly, he nodded. He did not wish to spend any unnecessary time with his adopted sibling, but he also knew that it would make me happy if he did so nonetheless. Or, more accurately, I would make his life miserable if he did not seize this chance.

Thor smiled at him, and closed the cupboard door, Pop Tart in one hand, and an apple in the other. He pressed the latter into Loki's hands and sat down.

"Then we shall leave momentarily," Thor said; more to the two other Avengers and two humans in the room than to Loki himself. Loki glanced down to the apple that Thor had given him. I had talked with Thor about the whole 'food' situation with Loki; how uncomfortable it was for him to root around in the cupboard with all eyes on him… but Loki was not aware of that yet. He glanced to the fruit, then to Thor's eyes on him. He wanted to leave, to be away from Cameron's intense stare and his wife's silent dread… not because he particularly feared the mortals, but it _was _a nuisance.

But still… he had not eaten in a very long time, he realized. Resigning himself to this fate, he walked over to the table and sat as far from my parents as possible, keeping his face away from them. He ate quickly-he was used to a light, fast breakfast- and Thor did the same. All the while, Cameron's hard stare never left the Jotun.

Finally, Thor stood, and Loki followed, the two heading towards the exit. Tension crackled in the air as they left, thick and palpable and oddly… choking.

Loki waited. He knew the sound would come, knew what would happen next. How could it _not _happen? He knew Cameron Frost far too well to believe, for even a second, that he would simply allow Loki to leave, without ever saying a word…

A half-smile found its way onto his lips as the sound reached his ears at last, a noise from within the kitchen that he had just left. Thor seemed to have heard nothing as the two traveled down the hallway, but Loki was still listening intently.

The scrape of a chair's legs against the floor. My mother's voice, pleading quietly, begging, "Don't do this." Cameron's quiet reassurances that everything was going to be all right, that everything was ok, that he'd be back soon. Barton's soft, "Let him go," as Rogers undoubtedly opened his mouth to protest. Footsteps, running out into the hall.

Loki kept walking.

"Hey!"

Loki halted. So did Thor. His brother half-turned, then, seeing Cameron standing there, turned entirely. Loki sighed a breath of a word out through his lips.

"Inevitable."

Cameron did not seem to have heard. He looked to Thor, even as Loki stayed facing away. "Give me two minutes."

Thor's eyebrows furrowed. His bright blue eyes went from my father to Loki and back again. A frown tugged at his lips.

"Two minutes," Cameron insisted. "Two minutes alone with him."

A long, heavy pause. Then, "I think I can ask that much, after what he _did _to me."

After knowing my father for the time that I had, I would not have pegged him for a cruel man. Had I been there, I would have thought that my father meant exactly what he was saying; that he felt he was owed this much. That _Loki _owed him this much.

Loki, however, recognized the darker, more malignant undercurrent to those words; particularly seeing as they were not directed at _him, _but at _Thor. _It was a subtle hint, but it was there nonetheless; a suggestion that he could ask this much of _Thor, _because he had not been able to stop his brother's actions. For some reason, this subtle hint irritated Loki. Ridiculous mortal had no idea on what fragile ground he stood.

Thor's eyes tightened; he may not have consciously registered the subtle stab at his pride, but somewhere, deep within him, he recognized it. His face scrutinizing, he looked to Loki.

The Trickster shrugged mildly. "I shall not harm him."

He knew that this was the main concern; but he also knew that it was a ridiculous one. Even if he was not surrounded on all sides by powerful creatures who would all jump at the chance to throw him out of the window, this was my father. He had no choice but to treat him… decently.

Thor studied him for a long time, then slowly, _slowly, _nodded. He walked back into the kitchen, closing the door behind him so that their conversation would not be heard.

Loki still hadn't turned around.

For a long time, neither said a word. They merely remained in the silence. Loki was quite content to let this silence last forever; there was nothing he particularly wished to say to this mortal. He was… irrelevant.

No. No, that was not true. Loki had released Cameron Frost's mind from his influence, had allowed the man to go free… but that was before. Before he had known that I was going to make our link permanent. Before he had been made aware that any pain Cameron caused me would be Loki's pain as well. Before that action had a direct consequence for _him._

At the time, it had seemed a trivial matter. Cameron and I shared a bond that most who shared blood had… We had gotten closer than we'd expected, faster than we'd expected. I'd been willing to give him a second chance, had wanted us to be the family we were supposed to be. But it had been more than a year since that time had passed, and the two of us were more distant than we had ever been.

For a reason, Loki knew. A reason he still hadn't admitted to, for it was still only a theory…

"I won't let you take my daughter from me."

The words were said. They were in the air and they were final, strong and resolute. Loki sighed very quietly and turned to face Cameron at last.

My father's hand was clenched in a fist as he glared at Loki. The other hand was pointing an accusatory finger towards him. "You may have Natalie fooled, you may _think _that you have her wrapped around your finger… but you'll never fool me. And I won't let you take my little girl from me. Not again. _Never _again."

Did this mortal even _know _how pathetic he looked? His bluster and pride and firm reassurances… it was rather pitiable, actually.

Loki smiled, letting out a short, breath of a laugh and shaking his head back and forth slowly. "Then take her from me, _please_, I _beg _of you." He laughed again, just the barest shade louder. Cameron's eyes darkened. "Your daughter has been nothing but a bane to my existence since the moment she made our connection permanent. But nothing that you or I say will _ever _change the fact that we are now inseparable; to tear me from her and her from me would cause her a great deal of agony." A smirk danced on his lips. "Which, I'm certain, is not something that you want."

"Just because she's linked with _you _does not mean that she can _ignore __**me." **_Cameron snarled in response, his features curling in a decidedly ugly sneer. "You are taking her away from her _family. _The people who truly _matter _to her."

"_Taking _her!" Loki scoffed. "You seem to forget, Cameron, that Natalie is 'your little girl' no longer! She is not the child that you left behind; she is an adult! She can think for herself and make her own decisions, whether you or I agree with them or not!" his voice did not rise in the slightest, but there was a trace more emphasis on his words.

"I only left her behind because of what _you _did to me!" Cameron snapped in response; and his voice _did _rise. Louder and louder, a thundering crescendo. Loki rolled his eyes; he was still human. He was still weak, no matter the volume of his voice. In fact, he found it rather amusing, that a human might think that yelling would make them somehow more intimidating and stronger. Like watching an insect scream its hate to the stars.

"Perhaps," Loki admitted with a gentle shrug. "But you left her nonetheless." He smirked dangerously. "And your dear little girl, no matter the things she says, no matter what she _forgives_… well, I'm afraid that's something that she can still never _forget._"

"Only because _you _won't let her," Cameron answered tightly. His fists were clenched so tightly that they trembled. He appeared to be holding himself back, trying not to strike, trying to remind himself of how useless it would be to do so.

"She's not a puppet," Loki said, half incredulous, half disgusted. "She's not a _slave. _She remains inside of my mind but that does not mean that she sacrificed her own. _I _do not dictate what she feels for you. _She _does, as she always has."

"Then why does she still hate me?" Cameron snarled. "Why does she still shy away from me, why does she look the other way when I'm around, why can she still not _stand _me?"

Was he truly this blind? Could _any _creature be filled with this much… _folly? _Could any creature be so gullible as to swallow their _own _lies? "Because you rejected her."

"Only because you _made me!_"

Loki rolled his eyes. "Back then, yes, but no longer." He took a step forwards. "Do you not understand the nature of the connection we share? Has she not _told _you, _repeatedly, _that she and I are… the same? She made a decision to keep me as a part of her, and her as a part of me, and you…! You reject me so completely. _I _could care less for the opinions of humans- of _any _human- but Natalie? She sees it as nothing more than another rejection of her; because I _am _her. I am a part of her, she made the decision to make me _into _a part of her. And you continue to despise that decision, the _defining moment _of her past years. You act as though she is still the child you left behind, as though if you simply disagree often and loudly enough with what she has become, she'll _change_ it. You think that she's still a little girl who just wants to do anything to avoid arguing with her parents… but she no longer _can _change it. What she has done to us is _irrevocable. _No matter what you say, no matter how much you plead and argue and shout, it can _never_ change_. _And you would do well to remember it."

Cameron was staring at him with wide eyes. There was still so much hate in them, but somewhere, perhaps, it might have been registering. Perhaps. Loki was uncertain why he was still bothering to argue. He knew it wouldn't get through, and he suspected _why _it wouldn't. But he found himself unable to stop.

"'Everyone has a past'," Loki quoted, tilting his head to the side. "Is that not her mantra? She understands your past. And somewhere, in some way, she has already forgiven you for it. She may not be aware of it yet, but your _past_ is not why she still fears you, still dislikes you. It is your rejection of the person she is _now_ that makes her despise you." Loki's eyes glinted dangerously. "And _I _shall certainly never correct her for that. So if you wish for her opinion to change, I would suggest you try to do so yourse-"

Loki froze suddenly, his words cutting off abruptly as he stiffened. His spine went completely rigid.

"Natalie," he breathed.

He didn't even bother to explain. Didn't bother to finish his conversation. It didn't matter. Nothing _mattered._ Instead, he started forwards, pushing past Cameron and all but running down the hallway, calling over his shoulder, "Thor!"

When he received no immediate response, Loki continued shouting. "Thor! Rogers!"

Cameron watched him go, stunned, as the Avengers- three of them, at least- peered outside of the door; obviously, they'd been listening fairly intently to the goings-on in the hall, curious as to what my father might have to say to the Trickster. And what the Trickster might have to say in return. Seeing Loki running, disappearing down the hall, they exchanged looks before following after him. Thor was beside his brother in moments.

"What is it?" He inquired, immediately falling into a quick stride, tensed for battle.

"Fraye. Natalie's room." Loki half-explained in short, choppy sentences, his eyes turning cold. A shimmer started to take over his skin, a golden glow that soon solidified into battle armor, his spear appearing in hand. His face was hard, his features set.

Thor glanced back to the others; Rogers was already ordering JARVIS to talk to Stark; but then Stark's voice came over the intercom; the building had seen Fraye already. He and Banner were on their way.

_We're coming, Frost, _Loki promised silently, somewhere inside of our minds.

* * *

I can tell you from experience that there are a lot of really, _really _awful ways to wake up in the morning. I've been through a lot of them personally. But I think this may have been the absolute _worst._

Fraye had been sitting on the foot of my bed when I woke. She'd tilted her head and given me a quick wink before leaping lithely to the other end of the room while I scrambled to my feet. By the time the Avengers arrived, I was on one side of the room, glowing, but not yet protected by the bubble. My blood was hot, though Fraye had not yet said even a word to me, beyond that cryptic little wink. She was at the other side of the room, curled in a ball, looking… pathetic. Weak. Frail.

Looking exactly like a little kid.

She was back in her child's form, her big black eyes round and pleading as the Avengers stormed inside. She cried out softly at the noise, flinching, blood covering her arms and legs. As the Avengers-and Loki- all aimed various weaponry at her, she cringed in on herself. Her black hair was matted again, her clothes tattered and torn, covered in dirt. Her breathing was quick, rapid, her tiny fingers trembling, fear all over her features despite how dead her eyes remained.

For a moment, no one moved. I was trying to force anger to spike through me, to force my blood into fire, to mix in just the right degree of fear, so that my bubble would explode again… I felt suddenly exposed without it, powerless… Loki's mind pressed up against mine, and I allowed it inside, allowed our thoughts to converge, allowed _him_ to take control over _my _emotions. In seconds, my force field was out, and cloaked around my form, my invulnerable second skin.

Silence rang in the room as Fraye whimpered, turning those enormous, heartstring-tugging black eyes towards the Avengers, flinching away from Loki's cold stare.

"Please," she pleaded; her voice was as quiet and timid and childlike as the rest of her. "Don't let them take me away again."

Silence.

Absolute, complete, utter, _dead _silence.

The world went cold.

The words echoed in the air for the longest time, a dull, resounding note that reverberated behind my rib cage. How stupid did she think we were? She'd attacked us, what, twice now? Did she _really _think that we were going to believe her innocent, child's façade again?

Tony voiced what we were all thinking. Repulsors aimed directly at her small chest, he said, "Nice try, kid. We're not buying that again. Not after what you did."

Her lower lip trembled. Tears welled up in her eyes, pooling in the blackness and spilling down her cheeks. "Please," she begged, his voice so like a child's it was unbelievable. "Please. I'm… I'm so sorry…" She was shaking. She was actually _shaking._ She cowered against the wall, trembling from her head to her bare toes. Her eyes went to Loki. "Please," She pleaded, this time directly of him. "Don't make me… I don't want to…"

She clapped her hands over her ears suddenly, cringing, writhing against the floor, screaming at the top of her lungs, a child's scream, the scream of an innocent. She thrashed, clutching her head desperately, crying, "No, please, get him out, get him out! I don't want to be that again, please, please don't make me kill again!"

Horror filled my eyes. Loki and I exchanged a look, brief, a flash of panic spreading through us both as our thoughts mostly separated; jolted apart by the fierce surge of anger that had overtaken me. No. She wasn't doing what I thought she was doing, she _couldn't _be…

The Avengers were looking slightly wary now; or, at least, most of them were. Banner, Steve, Thor and Clint included. Tony's repulsor hand wavered. But Natasha's aim remained locked dead between Fraye's eyes, her face cold, emotionless. There was no pity in her features, not even a trace of compassion or mercy.

_I know the bond between torturer and tortured very well…_

Her words echoed in my ears, though I clamped down on them quickly. Now was _not _the time for Loki to learn about that particular conversation, thank you very much.

Fraye groaned, rocking back and forth slowly, then allowed it to fade off and die in a whimper. "I'm sorry, your majesty," she repeated in an exhausted whisper. Her eyes were still locked dead on the Trickster. "Please… I just… I can't do it anymore, please!"

"You lying little bitch." It was out before I could stop it. The tension, already thick in the air, snapped like a whip over to me, filled with the heavy weight of the Avengers' stares. "Don't… How…" Fury was rendering me speechless. Did she really think that we were so _stupid _as to believe that _Loki_ was responsible for all of this? That it was all _his _fault? That _he _was manipulating _her?_

No. She didn't think we were all that stupid.

She just knew our weaknesses.

And what we _wanted _to believe.

She turned sad, rueful eyes to me, taking a few steps forwards, suddenly clinging to my hands in pathetic desperation. She leaned her weight against me, holding onto me, as though I were the only thing keeping her upright. "You've gotta fight him, Nat'lee. You can't let him make you into a killer. I know you didn't want to do it, Nat'lee, but you've gotta be stronger than this, you've gotta-" She was cut off in another bout of hideous, tormented screaming. I was still standing stunned. Loki was watching me, fear in his eyes. Fear that could easily be interpreted as guilt and shame and the terror of being caught red-handed…

Fraye stumbled back onto the ground again, collapsing in a small heap of tiny bones and pale skin. As she quivered again, I felt certain that she would rattle. "Please," she begged of the Avengers, holding out a hand, reaching towards them. It was trembling, her tiny white fingertips quivering in pure strain and fear and exhaustion. "Get. Him. Out." Each word was broken apart into a sentence, interspersed with a desperate, fish-out-of-water type of gasp; as though she couldn't get enough air, as though she couldn't breathe… She sobbed quietly.

Tony's repulsors slowly lowered. Steve's grip on his shield slackened. Thor started watching his brother more intently.

"No!" The word came from the basest parts of me, a roar of a sound, and I found myself lurching towards Fraye, my hands ready to wrap themselves around her throat… Loki's hand whipped to my shoulder, pulling me back; that movement, more than anything else, made up the Avengers' minds. Or, at the very least, Clint's.

"Get your paws off of her!" The archer snarled, turning his aim to Loki. Immediately, Loki half-raised his hands, surrendering… but the damage had been done.

"You've got to save me," Fraye kept pleading. "I… I keep fighting him… but… I… I can't… I can't hold him back much longer…" She whimpered. "My head… it hurts so bad… I can't… can't fight… can't…" her words died off, and she sobbed, quiet little noises that sent my blood aflame. Every single word that came from her mouth was a lie. Every twisted statement, every wretched word was dipped in poisonous deceit and I wanted her gone, wanted her out of our lives, wanted the manipulation to _end…_

But I could see it. Her words were having the exact intended effect. The Avengers were bracing themselves, separating away from Fraye, yes, but from myself and Loki, too. After all, for all they knew, Fraye's newest act could be the real truth; they all wanted to believe that Loki was behind this, and here was the perfect outlet for that belief… Loki _was _a known telepath, after all; and with his connection to me, it was just possible that he could manipulate my thoughts, make me believe that he was on our side… make me into his puppet… after all, it had been our biggest worry since the very beginning, hadn't it…?

And here was this innocent little girl… pleading, begging, apologizing… so helpless and small, with the bad guy standing nearby, wearing that crazy horned helmet and holding a spear that could brainwash people… All that he was missing now was the curly moustache.

And then, of course, there was me. I'd been changing recently. I'd barked out orders yesterday. I'd been more stubborn, more fierce, angrier than ever… the monster had slipped its leash a few times in recent history, and they had seen it… how easy would it be, to blame Loki for that? To say that it was all his fault, because they did not want to blame me, because I was their friend, I was human, I could do no wrong, it was only Loki, it was only _ever _Loki…

"Damn you," I found myself growling out the words, dark and dangerous and completely unhelpful. Loki was giving me a _shut-up-Frost _look, but I was ignoring him, I was desperate to get my hands on that little girl, that little girl that was actually a nightmare… _my _nightmare, _Loki's _nightmare, the entire _world's _nightmare…

"Damn you!" I shouted. "Wasn't it enough? Will it _ever _be _enough _for you? How can you even _say _this, how _dare _you, after what _you did?!_" I was shaking, too; but not from fear. No more fear. Only rage. "After _everything you've done to him?_ Everything you've done to _me, _to my _parents?" _I was advancing now, and the Avengers were torn; help me, stop me, save me, save Fraye _from_ me…

"_When will it be __**enough**__ for you?!" _I roared, taking another step forwards. Fraye flinched into the wall, wincing away from an inevitable strike… I knew better than this, I knew this looked bad, knew this looked awful…

Why couldn't I _stop _myself?

And suddenly, Steve's arms were around me, pinning my own arms behind my back; I struggled in his hold, but he held me fast despite the bubble. "Natalie, stop!" He shouted. "We have to consider all possibilities here!"

"There is _one _possibility!" I shrieked. "_She is a liar! _She's tearing this team apart, she wants us against each other, she's attacking our weakest link, just like I said she would, just like we all _knew she would!_"

Fraye gave me another one of those rueful smiles; a kind of sick camaraderie in her eyes. One slave, giving a sad acknowledgement to the other. As though I were as imprisoned as she pretended to be. "It's ok, Nat'lee," she whispered. "I know what he made you believe. It's not your fault." The watery smile stretched, and then froze on her face, twisting abruptly into a grimace. Another cry burst from her lips, and she turned around, looking in abject terror to the shadows behind her, shadows which had begun to reach towards her, to claw and grab at her… Whispering horrible whispers, hissing vicious, undeterminable words…

"No!" She screamed, launching herself towards the Avengers; she landed against Bruce and clung to him tightly, desperately. "Please, Uncle Brucey, please, don't let them take me again, don't let me hurt you again!" Pure desperation leaked into her words as she looked up at him.

"Kill me!" She begged, dropping to her knees, clinging to him desperately. Bruce looked down at her in horror. "Shoot me, kill me, please, just don't let them take me again! Don't let me hurt you again!"

The shadows were wrapping around her ankles. I could barely hear anything; the world was crashing behind my ears, powerful waves against rocks, slowly grinding them into sand… My fury kept Loki out of my mind; it was an emotion so central to me, so distinct to _me _that it excluded everything else. This was not _Loki's _rage. This was not _his _indignity. This was all _mine._

There was the crack of bullet fire as Natasha took Fraye up on her offer; a shadow immediately flicked out in front of her, snatching the golden bullet out of thin air and flinging it to the side; the clattered to the ground, and Natasha fired again. And again. It didn't work.

"I can't control them!" Fraye screamed, holding her head… the shadows seemed to hesitate, as though she were battling them in her mind, as though she was holding them back… but then they surged forwards with renewed strength, wrapping all around her body, thin tendrils that I knew from experience were all too strong…

Bruce gripped her hands; it was unthinking, an immediate reaction, an inevitable response. See someone who needs help, help them. Cause and effect. That was what the Avengers did. As the shadows pulled her away from him, yanked her out of his grasp, Clint and Thor reached forwards, gripping at the child, trying to wrench her from the shadows grasp. Steve remained gripping my arms as I tried desperately to struggle, shouting at the top of my lungs.

"She's _lying_ to you! She's always lied to you, it's everything she is! Lies and lies and _more lies!_ That's _everything!_" I was screaming.

_Frost, stop! _Loki snapped in my mind. _You are not helping the situation!_

_Neither are __**you! **_I snapped back. _Standing around, doing nothing? Coward!_

He ignored the last comment. He knew that I did not mean it. Knew that I would say anything to provoke him into fighting, into standing up for himself… but what was the point in standing up for himself? No one would believe him. No one.

No one but me and Natasha… the spy remained watching the spectacle with a coldly neutral stare, her gaze even. Steady. Watching the child being devoured by the darkness.

The shadows swallowed her whole; for a long, terrible moment, we could all still hear her screaming from within the blackness… and then it imploded inwards on itself, and she was gone.

Everyone stared at the spot where Fraye had been just seconds before. Steve's grip slackened on my arms. Horror was in all eyes, horror and fear…

And then slowly, _slowly, _Clint's eyes turned to Loki. One by one, every one of the Avengers' stares followed.

"_You._" Clint said, his words ringing with finality. "_You _did this." His eyes grew dark. _"Again._"

* * *

"This is such bullshit_._"

I paced back and forth, back and forth, back and forth on one side of the room. Loki sat on the couch, his legs folded, his eyes closed, and his mind working. I tested the door for the thousandth time, as though that might change the fact that it was locked. Nope.

"This is _such_ _**bullshit**__,_" I repeated in a hiss, resuming my furious pacing. Loki was taking our newfound imprisonment rather well; or, at the very least, better than I was. I supposed he was used to it by now. I, on the other hand, was pissed beyond belief.

It wasn't like the locked door _meant _something. It wasn't like Loki couldn't just break right through it, if so inclined, or I couldn't flare into the bubble and break the entire door down. Hell, I could bring the entire building crumbling down if I wanted to. The lock didn't matter in the slightest; but the very fact that it was there seemed to represent just, exactly, how badly Fraye had screwed us.

Following Fraye's little show, Loki and I had been confined to the sixteenth-floor living room. There was no guard posted outside of our door; the Avengers were only one room over. We could not make it to the exit without passing through said room, and JARVIS was keeping an eye on us, so as far as anyone was concerned, we were trapped here.

But of course, Loki had already established an eyes-free zone; shielding us from Heimdal's and JARVIS' view. There was an illusion in place, should the Avengers think to check the footage whilst we were here. All they would see would be the two of us; me pacing, him sitting, and every so often exchanging a look as we 'said' something to each other.

"Like we're common criminals," I found myself muttering. "When Fraye's still out there… she's going to kill them all, and they'll just stand there 'making a decision'…" I continued grumbling for a very, very long time, pacing furiously. The contrast between myself and Loki was striking; he, too, was angered by the turn that events had taken, but he was far calmer about the situation than I. He grew more immobile as I grew more impatient, pacing faster and faster.

Finally, I huffed out a sigh and collapsed onto the couch. The Avengers had promised to retrieve us both after a 'decision' had been made. A decision on how, exactly, they were going to proceed. That was what they said, anyway. I saw it more as a decision on _who, _exactly, they were going to _believe._

At the very least, I knew there was one person was on our side; and it was the last person I would have expected a few days ago. Natasha had led us to the room we were inside now, had locked us in… but not before giving me a few words of advice.

"Tell them," She had suggested. I, of course, had known immediately what she was talking about. Loki, on the other hand, remained oblivious for the moment. "It could mean the difference in their decision. Show them the scars- he has some, right? It could mean everything."

I'd tried to explain to her that I couldn't, that it wasn't my secret to tell… but she had simply closed the door and walked away.

When I explained everything to Loki, allowing him to see the memory of the night before… I must admit, I'd actually been mortally terrified of him for the first time in a very, _very _long time. I'd even flinched. But, after a long, silent moment of deliberation, he had sighed very heavily and let it slide.

"You're not mad?" I'd asked.

"Furious," he had corrected me. "But Agent Romanoff has fooled greater minds than yours, Frost. I could not expect more out of you."

I didn't always know when he was insulting me or not; but I was pretty sure this was one of those times when he was.

Since then, we'd been fairly quiet; at the very least, we hadn't spoken to each other. I was still muttering curses under my breath, wishing painful things upon Fraye and all of her shadow-controlling crap. I resorted to my old tricks of imagining nice, pretty little visions of her being dropped into an alligator pit, or of wrapping my hands around her throat and throttling her until her tongue flopped out. But not even that could keep me from worrying for long.

Despair took hold. I curled up in a ball on my end of the couch, arranging myself at an awkward angle so that I could still see Loki's face. "What are we going to do?" I asked, in a strangely hushed voice.

His eyes opened, turning his head-but only his head- so that he could face me as well. He didn't seem to have an answer. We were quiet for a long time.

"If they decide that Fraye's telling the truth…" I bit my lip. It was too horrible to contemplate. There were very limited options as to what, exactly, we could do if this was the case. "They'll throw you back in prison, Loki. They'll send you back to Asgard." I started tracing my fingers over the Key on my wrist. "And nothing I can say will stop them."

His gaze flickered away. He still said nothing.

"I won't let you go back."

The firmness of this statement surprised us both. He looked to me again, an incredulous half-smile on his face, disbelief in his eyes; not that he doubted my sincerity, but more my ability to do _anything _to stop it.

"I mean it," I said, sitting upright, turning my entire body to face him. "We'll run. We'll run if we have to, but they're _not _taking you back."

He blinked, mildly startled by my sudden belief that this was the right thing to do, that this was what we would _have _to do. "Run where?" He inquired, his tone soft. "It will only convince them that Fraye was in the right. They will take her back, allow her back into their lives… and then they will hunt us down. They will follow us across the planet, the very _universe, _if they must." He looked away. "You know this."

I winced as he said 'allow her back into their lives'. He was right, of course. And I _did _know all of this. I scowled anyway. "Well, we have to do _something._ I'm not just going to sit around while they throw you back in jail, lock _me _up somewhere, and let Fraye…" I swallowed. Let her do what? Let her run rampant? Let her hurt them again? Let her destroy the world?

With Loki and I out of the picture, there was quite a lot that Fraye could do. I hated admitting this, but I was one of the more powerful members in our little group; the Death Bubble ensured that. Unless they got in through my weakness, then the shadows could not touch me. And Loki, well… he was pretty freaking powerful, too; it was good to have another Asgardian on the team. That was why I'd gotten him out of prison in the first place. At least with us _here, _we could all fight together. With Loki and I gone… well, divide and conquer. The Avengers wouldn't last; particularly if they no longer suspected Fraye of anything.

We were silent again. My words were looming in the air, hovering above us like vultures. Our thoughts twisted into separate directions as I worried, gnawing on my thumbnail anxiously. I'd meant it when I said that I'd run. Even if it meant that I spent my last days fleeing from those I'd called my friends, even if it meant that they'd think I was a traitor, even if it meant that Fraye would likely destroy us before I ever got to say 'I told you so.' Loki was our best option for survival. Loki knew Fraye better than any of us. Loki was all we had left. Sad, when you thought about it, but nonetheless true.

"You haven't even considered it, have you?"

Loki's words shook me out of my thoughts. I turned to him, eyebrows furrowing, confused. "What?"

He was watching me. Studying me. Trying to figure me out, just like always. "You haven't given thought to what Fraye said about you. Not once." I couldn't quite figure out his expression; it was something between bemusement and frustration. Not quite angry, not quite smiling. He shook his head slowly, laughing just quietly, a single breath of a sound that was similarly unreadable.

I thought about what Fraye had said about me. Her little charade about how I 'had to fight him'. I frowned. "Well, duh. That was for the Avengers' benefit, not mine; I'm not your puppet. I know that." I frowned. Why would I even consider that? Why would Loki expect me to?

He saw my thoughts and sighed deeply. "That was not all she said, Frost." He reminded me, and a memory flashed between the two of us; Fraye, her face innocent and rueful, telling me, "I know what he made you believe. It's not your fault."

"You haven't _once _considered that… perhaps… This is all another lie." Loki continued. "That I fabricated this tale of what Fraye did to me in order to gain your sympathy, your _trust._ That I have manipulated your mind so that you can no longer tell the difference between my truths and my lies, so that I could tell you anything, and you would hear it as nothing more or less than the absolute truth."

I bit my lip.

"It could be true," he went on. "It _could _just be possible that I twisted your mind. Those scars I showed you could have been an illusion. I could be lying to you. I could be _using _you."

"You aren't," I answered bluntly, stopping him as he picked up a head of stream.

"I _could _be."

"Yeah, but you _aren't,_" I said resolutely. There was no doubt in my mind. No hesitation in my words. Not a single pause. I didn't even have to think about it.

His eyes narrowed. Searching me. Trying to see through me. "And what makes you so certain of this fact? We both know that I am not beyond faking injury and weakness in order to get that which I want. Why are you so sure that I am not doing so again?"

"I just am, ok?" I snapped, unable to help myself, glaring at the ground and crossing my arms.

"_Why?_" He insisted.

"What do you care? I'm on your side, aren't I? Isn't that enough?"

""Are you too frightened to consider the possibility that I may have control over your mind?" he shook his head before I could even respond. "No. You do not run from unpleasant truths, do you?"

"Drop it_._"

"Perhaps you feel you have no choice?" He was relentless. "Due to our connection, you think that you _must _trust me? Beyond even the realm of what is _logical?_"

"Screw logic." I answered. "And it's not that."

"Then _why?_"

I scowled at him, then sighed very heavily; he waited me out as I gnawed on the inside of my cheek. After a long moment, in a quiet voice, (quiet, but not submissive), I told him, "At some point, _someone _is going to have to trust you. It might as well be me, and it might as well be now." I looked down. "I trust my instincts. And I trust Natasha. And they both say that you're not lying."

"Romanoff," he spoke up, latching onto the name. He nodded slowly. "Of course. That makes sense."

I gave him a dirty look. It irked me, that out of what I'd said, that was all he'd really heard. "No. Because even if Natasha didn't believe us, I still wouldn't listen to a single word that came out of that Shadow-Bitch's mouth. Not one word. Your history might call you a liar, but my instincts call _her _one. I'll listen to the present more than I'll listen to the past any day."

He blinked, watching me again. He had this look on his face, like he wasn't quite sure what I was going to do next: sprout wings, maybe? Hop onto the table and dance like a maniac? The wry glint in his eye suggested that nothing would surprise him at this point.

We fell silent. He turned away, gazing out towards the window. After a second, twisting my hands absently, I added, "I can't spend my whole life being afraid of you; being all paranoid about whether or not you're plotting against me. If you are using me, you are. But I just don't think so."

"Hmm." His chin was resting on his thumb, his index finger resting just below his lip as he concentrated. He didn't give a proper response; and the two of us didn't say anything to each other for a very, very long time.

We were usually pretty content with silence, but at this moment… my mind kept going back to a very problematic truth. I tried to keep my thoughts away from it, tried to stop myself from voicing it aloud… particularly seeing the hardening of the ice that coated Loki's heart every time that I thought about it, every time he heard it in my thoughts…

But still, it was a truth, and we had to face it. I cleared my throat, my lips dry as I attempted to say, "Maybe we shou-"

"No."

"But-"

"_No, _Frost."

I scowled. I didn't like the idea any more than he did, but he had to be _logical. _That was his thing, wasn't it? Logic and reason? Like a friggin' Vulcan. I fell silent for a moment, and he did the same, both of us brooding quietly; him at the fact that I'd even considered this, and me at the fact that he _wouldn't _even consider it.

"The scars are the only proof we have of what she did to you, Loki. And if the Avengers knew what she did, then they'd understand why-"

"_Natalie." _He growled, eyes turning icy. I shut up.

But me being quiet doesn't tend to last for long. My toe tapped a few times on the carpet, impatient, quick. My arms crossed themselves over my chest. My index finger started picking at the thumbnail of the same hand. I tried to bite my tongue. I really did. But the words wanted to come out; and they had a mind of their own.

"Are you _really _willing to lose the best chance you have, just for the sake of your pride? Are you _really _willing to go back to _prison,_ just because you were too damn _arrogant _to show a little _weakness?"_

His eyes narrowed. "It is not a matter of _pride, _Frost; _that_ has already been damaged _quite_ sufficiently."

"Then what _is _it?" I asked, partly curious, partly irritated.

He turned away and didn't answer. The 'irritated' part swelled.

"Look. They already know she beat you in a fight. They already know that she's dangerous as hell. After all, she made the Hulk_ bleed_; or did you forget that already?" His eyes slid sideways to me, watching me out of the corner of his eye, but still he said nothing. "I don't think they'll blame you, or think any _less _of you, if something that beat _him _also beat _you._" I tried to be a little more casual, more flippant, as I added, "Besides. Their opinion of you is pretty much in the toilet, anyway. This might make it a little better; and easier on _both _of us."

His jade gaze sparked dangerously. "'Easier'? This is not _easy, _Frost. But, by all means, if you have already made up your mind to tell them, then _tell _them. You know that there is nothing I can do to _stop _you, after all."

I didn't even bother to take offense at that; choosing instead to roll my eyes and sigh with heavy exasperation. "Oh, come on. That's just downright _childish." _I shook my head a few times, my still-messy hair rustling in my ears as I did so. "Your secret, not mine. I'm not gonna tattle if you don't _want _me to. I just want to know why it's so damn _important _to you that they _don't _know."

"You gave Romanoff plenty of valid reasons last night," he pointed out. "Could _you _tell this to your worst enemies?" He turned the same argument that I'd given to the spy around on me. "Could _you _show them _your_ scars?"

"Yep," I answered without hesitation; mostly because I already had. Most of my 'scars' were inner ones; and Loki had picked at them pretty ruthlessly when we'd first met. One of my eyebrows rose up in a hopefully-dignified arch. "And you showed _me, _didn't you?" The other eyebrow went up. "I always kinda thought that you considered _me _your 'worst enemy'."

"That's strange." He answered, without pause. "I thought you considered me your _friend_."

The words seemed to come from straight inside of him; bypassing his usual walls and barriers, the tight lid he kept on everything he ever said. I blinked, startled. It took me a few moments to pull myself together enough to respond, to force a careless note into my voice. Still, despite the flippancy, I couldn't look at him as I said, "Well, yeah. _I _do. But I'd be an idiot if I thought that you felt the same."

He snorted; a soft, quiet sound. We both recognized the truth in those words, and, for some reason, that sent a strange pain flaring through me. I brushed it aside. No time for that. Not anymore.

There was a brief pause in the conversation. Then, a breath of a sigh escaped through Loki's lips. "Whether or not I view you as my enemy, Frost, there is still a great difference between you and the Avengers. The first of which being the simple truth that, eventually, you are going to discover everything about me; every secret that I have."

I rolled my eyes again as irritation forced away any lingering traces of pain. "Nope. I call bullshit." He gave me a flat look, and I elaborated. "You don't believe there _is _an 'eventually' anymore, Loki. Oh, sure, maybe you plan for it, just in case… but you showed me those scars _right after _you found out that Fraye was the same woman who had tortured you. At that point, you didn't think we'd last until the end of the day, let alone long enough for me to discover your deepest darkest secrets." I slouched back on the side of the couch, my back to the armrest, my arm dangling down over the edge. "So. Next?"

He didn't quite scowl. But his eyebrows did furrow together in irritation. "You also do not ask questions."

"Also bullshit. I probe things all the time. It's my nature."

"Not like the Avengers," he whispered softly, turning away. Ok. Now we were getting somewhere. I tried not to betray my interest as he smirked ruefully at the ground.

"The… _intent _behind _your _questions, however misguided, is always… honorable. You wish to _help. _Your methods are wildly erroneous; but your intent remains the same. The Avengers… ah…"

"Not so much," I filled in. He nodded grimly.

"And thus," He continued, "You did not ask what I am certain that they _will._ Because you did not believe it was a question necessary to _help _me." His face twisted a little on the word 'help', like he couldn't believe I was wasting my time with something so ridiculous, but he was pretty much used to that by now. And I was pretty used to him being totally against it; I barely batted an eye. Some days, he accepted it, took it for what it was… some days, he'd look at me as though wondering who in the hell thought it was a good idea to give me crack.

"And what question is that?" I asked carefully, gently, tiptoeing around each word.

He looked to me and sighed deeply. "You accepted the scars here for what they were." On 'here', he gestured to the inside of his forearm, then turned away, not meeting my eyes. "You did not ask to see the rest."

I frowned. I didn't see how that would be important. Unless there was something more; something he wasn't telling me. There usually was.

"When I told you that those scars were everywhere, you took me at my word. That is something that the Avengers are not prone to doing."

Ok. Ok, he had a point there. The Avengers couldn't _afford _to trust Loki, to take him at his word on _anything. _There might be questions like that; and if Loki showed reluctance in answering any of them, then suspicion would abound. It always did, around him. We needed the Avengers to trust us completely; as completely as possible.

Still… we had a better chance of that if we _did _show them the scars on his arm and _not _whatever else it was that he was trying to hide. But the risk that they'd force him to show them… I didn't like the odds of that working out in our favor. I started chewing my index fingernail, thinking.

And, of course, trying to keep my curiosity from overwhelming me. What didn't he want to show the Avengers? What was so bad that he didn't even want _me _to see it? Me, who had seen his other form, who had seen most every bleak secret he ever had, who knew his every thought and would one day know his soul? Me, of all people…?

But I forced that thought aside. I was trying to be logical. Reasonable.

It would be a risk, to be certain, if Loki showed those scars… but perhaps he could tell them that they were the only ones visible… no, no that wouldn't work. Why would Fraye only damage his arm? Why would a painter only color one corner of their canvas?

I sighed heavily. I didn't want to have to run. I didn't want to get caught afterwards. I didn't want him thrown in prison, with me locked away while the Avengers tried to 'fix' me, to cut the puppet's strings, to destroy the chains that supposedly bound me to Loki, made me his mind-controlled slave. I didn't want them to decide against us, to believe Fraye over me and Loki… and right now, telling the truth about what she did to him was the best proof we had.

Loki laughed quietly; it was such a pained sound that I found my eyes whipping to him. He'd been following my line of thought. Attentively. "Oh, it would certainly be _more _than enough proof." He muttered, more to himself than to me. But I caught it anyway.

I just didn't know what the hell it _meant._

"Then why?" I asked him, feeling an old irritation smoldering beneath the surface of my skin. "Why won't you show them? It'll keep you out of your cell. Keep you out of the darkness. Keep you from being locked up in a cage until Fraye comes to retrieve you."

He winced; a gesture so subtle that, in the old days, I would have missed it. The very notion terrified him. But he kept his mouth shut.

I sulked. "Oh, come on. Give me _something_ more than that_._" Still nothing. I started half-rambling."One logical reason. _Any _reason. Any reason at all! I don't care! I truthfully, honestly, do not give a cra…_what_ are you doing?"

As I had been speaking, Loki had been standing up. I was about ready to roll my eyes and call him 'real mature' for 'running away from a conversation he didn't like', but he merely stood beside the couch that he had just risen from.

His long fingers quickly undid the buttons on his jacket. With swift-yet-precise movements, he slid it down off of his arms and draped it carefully over the cushion where he had just been sitting. Not for the first time in that conversation, my eyebrows shot straight up, hiding themselves beneath my matted bangs.

He wasn't looking at me any more; his back was turned to me as he gripped the hemline of his shirt and pulled it over his head.

"Ok. Probably not going to get an answer for this, but why, exactly, are you taking your shirt off?" I asked, giving him an incredulous look that he could not see with his back turned to me. He draped the shirt next to the jacket. Of course, his only reply was a cryptic one.

"You asked for a reason, Frost." He said; it was so low that I literally _could not _hear it; and had to rely on his thoughts to tell me what, exactly, he had said.

"No reason to strip, though," I grumbled, turning my face away, suddenly very aware that, though Loki was a 'part of me', he was also- _ahem- _a _**guy.**_

Loki didn't respond; to either my spoken words or to the embarrassment that was staining my cheeks a hot red. Though I was no longer looking at him, I knew his eyes closed, knew that he was focusing, bringing the magical energy in his veins towards his fingertips, letting it flow through him…

I identified the feeling, the movements; he was dropping an illusion. Allowing it to fade away. I remembered suddenly that this was what he had done to his arm- created an illusion of undamaged, unbroken skin to conceal the true horror beneath- and found myself turning to look at him, the pieces clicking into place.

I expected to see scars, to see damage, to see something beyond repair.

I didn't expect _this._

My breath caught in my throat, clogging any words that thought they might have a chance at life. My embarrassment was forgotten in an instant, because my emotions had been quelled by instinct: an instinct to protect, to help, to fix that which was broken.

I barely realized that I'd gotten up off the couch until I was standing directly behind Loki. My hand reached out for the scars that cut across his shoulder blades, fingertips quivering. It was instinctual. See wound, assess the damage, then heal it. An age-old process for an age-old fact of life; the fact that people will always be damaged somewhere.

There were scars everywhere across his back; hardly an inch of his skin remained unblemished, and that was more than enough to make me hate Fraye, more than enough to explain everything to me. But that wasn't the worst of it.

Not even close.

My fingers brushed very, _very _lightly against the scars that went horizontally across his shoulder blades; the deepest, ugliest, and clearly the most painful of them all, lash-marked into his skin. They were pure black around the edges, ugly burn marks bubbling up all around them…

But the ugliness of them did not concern Loki; the Avengers had already seen how ugly these scars could be. No, it was something worse: because engraved there, _written _there, inscribed in his misery, were three words.

They weren't written in English; they weren't even written in any type of Asgardian text; no, the four strange symbols there were very distinctly Jotun. I recognized them, of course; Loki was well versed in reading and writing in most of the languages of the nine realms; and that more than included his true home world. Thor, too, would have recognized this, should he lay eyes on it; they were the children of royalty and were educated as such.

I swallowed hard as I stared at the name in Loki's shoulders:

_Child of Shadow._

It was such a loose translation; it couldn't quite describe the true horror behind each and every one of those four symbols. Fraye had earned herself a title entirely separate in the Jotun text, a 'name' that had no real translated equal.

But, since its inscription into Loki's shoulders, and since he had learned the Shadow Child's real name, he had realized it bore a very close resemblance to another group of symbols: one whose meaning, quite simply, was _"The Red Mists in Battle." _

Or, more accurately, _"The Fray."_

Each symbol, these ones that represented her name, her every Jotun Title… they stared at me, watching me, mocking me. I made a weird noise in the back of my throat as I just barely managed to hold in my choked scream. Loki wasn't looking at me; he kept his back towards me, his gaze on the ground. He hated this. He hated showing this to me. But really, what was the point in hiding it? We were part of the same person. Two halves, one whole. Loki and Natalie, Natalie and Loki, never separate, knowing everything about each other… our names were practically interchangeable…

"Could you do it?" His words were less of a whisper and more of a rasp as he repeated the question he had posed to me earlier. The one that I had posed to Natasha the night before. My fingers finally brushed against the scarred word as he continued, "The Avengers are my enemies, Natalie, but they are _your _friends. Could _you _do it? As close as you are to them, could _you _show them this?"

I swallowed. I didn't answer. I didn't have to. If this was me, if these characters had been cut and burned and shadow-marked into my skin, then there is no way in _hell _that I could have shown _anyone. _Not even the Avengers. _Especially _not the Avengers. Even if most of them wouldn't be able to translate, there would be one who could: Thor. And he would share its true meaning with them without hesitation. No, the only person I'd even consider showing was Loki; for the same exact reason that _he _was showing _me._

"She _branded _me, Miss Frost." His voice trembled. "She _claimed _me, she-" He couldn't keep talking. He couldn't say another word. I carefully ran my hand over the scarred area; despite how his skin was usually freezing-ass cold, beneath my fingertips the damaged tissue burned with a feverish, sickly kind of heat.

I was shaking, too. Fearful and pain-filled at first, it morphed quickly into the rage that was so ever-present these days. "She marked her territory," I found the words slipping out. "Like an _animal."_ I looked at him, tearing my eyes away from the word on his back so that I could look at his face instead; as much as I could see of it, at this weird angle. "Is that why she said she 'owns' you? Because of this?"

He nodded once, mutely. I pulled my hand off of the injured tissue, and I heard him hiss in a painful breath through his teeth.

"They still _hurt?_"

"Shadow Wounds never heal," He reminded me, turning to the side, so that I was studying his profile. From this angle, I could see a few nasty scars on his chest, too, and I found myself wincing. "I can… forget it, from time to time. But they are always there." He scooped his shirt up from the couch and pulled it over his head, pulling it down firmly, closing off this weakness again. The scars still showed on his arms, though; he hadn't put up the illusion. Yet.

"And you never went to a proper Healer to get them looked at." I guessed, sighing heavily.

"Would you have?"

Nope.

"I get your point, all right?" I said, the words cracked. I blinked away the blurriness in my vision. Loki draped his jacket over his shoulders and placed his arms through the sleeves, buttoning it up with deft fingers.

I waited until he had reestablished the illusion of real, undamaged skin and sat down before I said anything more. I sat down after he did, directly beside him, my hand automatically reaching out to take his. Neither of us really noticed when our fingers intertwined.

"Loki…" I said slowly. "I'm sorry. I… I shouldn't have asked."

"You would have found out eventually," he said, but his words seemed to come from far away, some distant land that only he was aware of. He wasn't even looking directly at me.

"She… she carved her name into your skin. I just…" I ran my hand down my face, abruptly exhausted. "I just… I hate her. I hate her _guts._"

"Yes, you've made that quite apparent." Loki still seemed in shock by the fact that he'd even shown me at all. The emptiness in his eyes seemed to be created half by his rage that I now knew, and half by his bewilderment that he had told me this secret himself. His hand, I realized, was shaking just slightly in mine, despite his vacant stare.

"I can't see how anything would be that cruel," I looked at him. "To anyone." I swallowed. "Especially if they were telepathic… if they knew _exactly _what would hurt someone the worst…" I shook my head, very, very slowly. "I mean, what a _bitch_."

He seemed to fight rolling his eyes. _My _eyes kept darting to his back, as though I could still see the scarred area through his shirt; not to mention the illusion. But even though I couldn't _see _them, those scars were still burned into the back of my retinas, branded onto my mind, just as they had been on his back. Fraye had laid claim to him, had marked him as 'hers' in a way that would remain with him for the rest of his life; regardless of what we did to stop Fraye. She would always own him, even long after she was dead and buried.

I squeezed his hand a little tighter; for the first time, he noticed that we were actually… holding hands. He looked down at our interlaced fingers with a blank stare. I wasn't sure how to describe what he felt about it; mostly because _he_ wasn't sure how he felt about it. But I'm pretty sure that neither of us really cared; it was kinda… normal, by this point.

"She _doesn't_ own you, you know," I said after a quiet moment. I felt his eyes on the side of my face, but kept my own gaze on our hands. "No matter what she did to you… you're not hers." I bit my lip, trying to explain what I was thinking, trying to get my words exactly right. "You know how I view these things, right? She can do a lot of things to you, but there are some things that she just… _can't _take? Things that you have to _give _to her? Like… your dignity?"

Of course he recognized this. It was _my _constant view on most situations involving megalomaniacal bad guys. (Which was pretty depressing, that I actually had to have a view on that situation; since that situation occurred so frequently in my life.) As far as I was concerned, a person could cause you pain and take your life… but you had to _give _them your dignity. And, in some situations, you had to _let _them make you afraid. Then, and only then, could a person _possibly _own you.

But Loki merely sighed. "And look where that view has gotten you." He said, light sarcasm brushing across his words. "Willing to run away from your friends and family in service of a man whom you've always hated."

"I don't _hate _you," I corrected him swiftly. "And it sure as hell would _not _be in your service. It's for my planet."

"So you keep trying to believe."

I scowled. He was getting annoying again. Reminding myself that this was just his way of coping, I kept from biting out an acidic remark. Barely.

Instead, I told him, "That doesn't make my views any less valid. You don't have to let Fraye convince you that she owns you; because she _doesn't._"

There was a lengthy silence as Loki looked at me. For a long moment, he just sort of… stared at me. Blank, and empty, this shell of a person that had always seemed so broken to me… But then, something seemed to occur to him; something way off-topic, something that actually had him… smiling.

He suppressed it quickly, looking away. "Given… the state of things… I'm afraid I'm having a hard time taking anything you say seriously, Frost," he told me, his words broken as he tried oh-so-diplomatically to find the right words. His eyes were on the ground, away from me, and he was still smothering a half-grin.

I, on the other hand, scowled. The look on his face was highly condescending; the same look he usually had when he decided to disregard everything I was saying because, well, I was _human. _"Why?" I demanded. "Because I'm _mortal?_ Is that it?"

He shook his head, still not looking at me. "It has more to do with your… ah…" He hesitated, his eyes clicking back on me for just a fraction of a second before darting away again. "_Current _state, than your birth one."

My nose wrinkled. What the hell was _that _supposed to mean? Loki, seeing as I still wasn't getting it, kept his smile hidden as he looked back to me, pointing out, "You are still in your nightwear."

"No!" It was complete denial. I didn't even look down to check for a moment. "No, no way, it's not possible!" My eyes went down at last, and I cursed. He was right. He was absolutely freaking _right. _Mis-matched PJs, with a baby-blue, holey T-shirt that had little yellow moons and white pants with green polka dots. A laugh slipped through my lips.

And now I saw what was so funny. Once the laughter started, it didn't stop; because it was so _inevitable. _This morning alone, I had been woken up by a killer of worlds, who, in the course of three minutes, had turned almost every one of my so-called 'friends' against me. I was practically on trial for my life here; in that I would almost certainly die if the right decision wasn't made. I was locked in the same room as the Norse god of Mischief, who might have killed me when I told him about Natasha's discovery of his darkest secret -but thankfully didn't- and then he'd shown me an even _darker _one.

And I, by the simple virtue of being Natalie Freaking Frost, was still in my damn _Pajamas. _

"I am going to _die _in these things!" I exclaimed, burying my face in my hands and trying very hard to hold back the near-hysterical laughter. Loki, though he was not laughing with me, was actually smiling for the first time in a very long time; a smile that was almost -_almost- _genuine. "I am going to die just like this! That is going to be my epitaph: 'Natalie Frost: Died in her PJs. Looked Like an Idiot.' And everyone I've ever known and loved is going to just look at each other, say 'yep', and walk away." I threw my hands into the air. "I give up! I just give up, already! That is it, I am _way _too _human _for this crap!"

_That _elicited the smallest of chuckles from Loki. As my hand fell back down again, his fingers wrapped around it; instinctual, unthinking. His gaze turned away from me as I sighed deeply.

After I'd fallen quiet for a moment, he told me softly, "You have always been too human, Frost."

I didn't reply.

There was nothing to say.


	11. A Sobering Thought

**A/N: Hey! It's the-author-apologizes-for-late-chapter-update time again! YAY! **

**-_- So I made it extra long this time, mmkay? Don't be too mad, this chapter ran into a lot of problems.**

**Also, in response to my guest reviewer (Guest): I saw the Youtube video of Tom Hiddleston at Comic Con. I thought it was absolutely hilarious, fantastic, and that he had way too much fun with it. :D **

* * *

We allowed JARVIS access back into the room after a while. Loki dropped the illusion, and the two of us decided to use our time as prisoners to our advantage. Following our conversation, we did not talk; merely sat together, on the floor, our minds merging. Practicing again. I'd flicked off the light, so that Loki and I could become more used to fighting his fear of the dark whilst simultaneously having our little Battle-Forged-Bond working to our advantage. JARVIS eventually turned the light back on, claiming that it was Stark's insistence, that he wanted to be able to keep a proper eye on us. I bitched and moaned for a while, but Loki returned me to the task at hand. We had work to do. Even if they Avengers thought they had time to take off for this petty charade of a decision, we knew that we did not.

It was noon by the time Banner entered the room, carrying a tray of food. Loki and I separated, and again, it made me feel almost sick as I stumbled to my feet. Loki even pressed his fingers against his temple, trying to quell the sharp pain that came with this sudden, unnerving loss of his second half. I tried to walk as straight as possible over to Bruce, but I was certain that I went in zig-zags.

The Hulk-in-Human-Clothing held up two trays. "Lunch," he said politely, setting them down on the nearby table.

"Thanks," I said, genuinely grateful. As Bruce set down the second tray and brushed his hands off, I picked up an apple and bit down into it. I'd forgotten how much I hated apples. But I found myself eating it, anyway.

"How goes it in there?" I asked, wiping juice off of my chin with the back of my hand, wishing he'd brought a napkin.

"Well, I'm not supposed to talk to you," he told me. "So there's that."

I lifted both eyebrows. "Yeah, but you don't care." It wasn't a question.

He smiled very lightly. "Not in the slightest." he agreed. Loki still remained seated on the other end of the room, and though Banner knew very well that he was speaking to both of us no matter how loud or quiet his voice was, he still lowered it down to a whisper. "Natasha's fighting tooth and nail to make sure everyone believes you. Clint is completely opposed to letting him" –he gestured to Loki- "Stay here. Thor agrees with Natasha; as do I. But Stark and Steve aren't convinced."

Steve. Steve didn't believe me. Didn't believe _in _me.

For some reason, this stung more than anything else. I hadn't expected Clint to be on our side, or even Stark, really. Hell, I hadn't even been certain about _Thor. _But Steve… Well, like Banner, I'd assumed that it wouldn't even be a choice for him.

I guessed I was wrong. Loki winced at the other end of the room; our emotions always affected each other a lot worse after we'd been that intertwined.

"It's really Stark that we need to be worried about." Banner added. "Majority rules don't mean anything without him."

Loki frowned. "Why?"

Banner seemed unsurprised that he'd spoken. Or, at least, he didn't seem as surprised as Loki did. "His Tower, his rules." Bruce explained. "If he decides that you're out, then you're out; at least until we find a place with enough security to hold you. And the only other option seems to be the Helicarrier."

As one, Loki's and my hand fell to our wrists. I tugged down my sleeve, to ensure the Key was covered. Security, we both knew, was not an issue. "The Helicarrier's no good," I put in. "The Council will never allow it. And besides. We have to be… you know. Grounded."

Banner nodded. "Agreed. Which means that Stark _has _to agree. Or…"

"Or we're screwed," I filled in glumly.

"Pretty much, yes."

Loki and I sighed quietly together. "Thanks, Bruce," I said, genuinely grateful.

He nodded and turned away, heading for the door; again, no one seemed more surprised than Loki was when he spoke up. "Doctor Banner?"

Bruce half-turned back, looking over his shoulder. "Yes?"

"What convinced you?" Loki inquired. "Why do you believe that Natalie is not simply… my puppet?"

Bruce considered, then turned to face Loki completely, face-to-face. He raised his shoulders about an inch before letting them fall again. "Because she's not that weak."

"Neither was Barton."

Bruce smiled softly, nodding slowly. "True," he agreed. "But Natalie forgave you. Barton didn't." His white teeth showed in the wryest of smiles. "And in a lot of ways… letting go of anger… is the hardest thing you can do." He turned away. "There is more than one kind of strength. And I think you both know that."

He was out the door before either of us could think of a proper response.

There was a long, hollow silence ringing in the room as Loki and I both considered the doctor's words.

"You know," I said at last, breaking the quiet into a thousand hopeless pieces, "The Hulk is one scary dude. But when _Banner_ gets all philosophical n'shit? The man downright terrifies me."

* * *

"I don't see how this is an _issue, _Natasha!" Clint hissed, speaking directly to his partner despite the fact that the whole group was listening in.

"Clint, trust me," Natasha said, and though she was just as vehement, her voice was lower than his. "You don't have all of the information."

"And _you _do?"

She pressed her fingers against her temple. "Look, I _know _you're angry at Loki, but if you can just look past that, just _once, _you'd see it for yourself! It's _obvious _that Fraye hurt him, and you're acting so… _blind!_"

Clint slammed his hands onto the table, leaning on them. He and Natasha were both standing, face-to-face, not backing down. Around the room, the other Avengers sat with varying degrees of interest and exasperation. Steve was watching the two as their voices rose, readying himself to get between them should things come to blows. Stark looked bored, but his eyes were locked on the two of them as well. Thor seemed utterly exhausted, drained from the continuing fighting, and Banner was watching everything with a neutral expression. They all sat around the holo-table of the meeting room, and, as usual, nothing had been settled yet.

My mother and father had been allowed to stay in the room. My father's opinion had been made very clear from the beginning; he agreed with Clint. Fraye was obviously just another pawn in Loki's game; not the other way around. Once he had voiced this opinion, he and my mother had remained as silent watchers of the meeting's events, rarely-but sometimes- giving input on the situation. My mother's opinion had not been voiced, but it was assumed that she agreed with her husband.

"This isn't _about _Loki!" Clint shouted at the Black Widow. It was so rare that the two _ever _disagreed on anything, but the novelty of this new group dynamic had worn thin after the first two hours of fighting and discordance. "This is about _Natalie! _Her and that telepathic _link! _We should've seen this coming from the beginning! In fact, we _did _see this coming from the beginning!"

"He has a point, Natasha," Steve voiced quietly, trying to edge into the conversation, if only to temper it slightly. "It's always been a concern; whether or not Loki could gain control of Natalie through their mental connection."

"It is not likely," Thor put in, looking frustrated. "That connection is not an offensive type of magic. It is not meant to be used to control someone; it is meant to be used to _understand _them."

"That doesn't mean it's _impossible," _Clint pointed out. "He brainwashed _me, _didn't he? And I was perfectly _happy _to follow any one of his orders; so Natalie's emotions won't 'damage' him, because she'll be _willing_ to go along with _everything he asks!_"

"He brainwashed you with the Chitauri's spear," Banner pointed out. "Not a mental link."

"A weapon that he _now has in his possession!"_ Clint protested. "Stark, you _have _to see that he is _dangerous! _At the least, at the _very least, _that spear needs to be _removed!_"

"Natalie and Loki have been in that room for the past few hours, Barton," Natasha noted with a hostile tone. "Both of them are fully capable of escaping this Tower together, if they were so inclined. They are _both _fully armed. And they haven't even made an _attempt._"

"Because they know that they've got _you _wrapped around their fingers!" Barton snarled. "You're as much his _puppet _as _she _is!"

Natasha flinched, a barely perceptible movement. But Barton obviously saw it; and for a moment, his eyes softened. He hesitated, faltering in his argument. That one went too far and he knew it.

But Romanoff's eyes turned to steel. She looked to the Captain. "Rogers, you know Natalie better than most of us. You have to know that she is _harmless. _She's _incapable _of killing anyone; even under duress."

"Even under _brainwashing?"_ Steve shook his head. "I can't guarantee that. Barton's right; he followed Loki's orders without question. He went where he was told to go and killed anyone who he was told had to die. Why wouldn't Natalie do the same?"

"Barton _already_ had blood on his hands." Natasha answered coldly. "And right now, Natalie _doesn't._"

"What's _that _supposed to mean, _Nat?_" Clint demanded, immediately on the defensive again.

"It means the same thing for all of us, _Clint._" She responded, razors in her words. Her eyes touched those of everyone in the room, though they forwent my parents'. "There isn't a single person at this table that doesn't have blood on our hands. That hasn't been forced to kill. Now, given her line of work, I'm sure that Natalie will be faced with the same decision someday; but right now, she hasn't. And maybe that could make the difference."

"We can't rely on 'maybe'." Clint shook his head. "You saw how she was. She may not be a killer, but Natalie is _far _from perfect. She's putting Loki ahead of us, she's disregarding orders in favor of what _he _tells her… We should have seen this coming from the instant she said that she wasn't going to break the link with him. We should have seen this _then. _I mean, she just lost her best friend, for crying out loud, what _sane, __**rational **_person would then permanently graft _their_ mind onto the mind their best friend's _murderer?!" _He shook his head, a surprisingly violent gesture in his anger. "We should have seen it then, and we're _blind _if we don't see it _now._"

"You're wrong."

The words were not shouted. The voice did not rise above that of normal conversation. It was flat and toneless, and yet, everyone in the room fell silent to hear it. It came from the most unlikely of sources; after all, there wasn't a single person in that room-least of all Anna Rose herself- who had expected my mother to voice an opinion in this particular meeting.

But now, her words held a certain odd strength as she looked directly at Clint. "You're _wrong._" She repeated, standing.

"Anna!" Cameron hissed through his teeth, but she brushed him off.

"Hush, you," She growled. "I spent thirteen years with that child _alone. _And there were plenty of times before you left that you still did not see. I know my daughter. And I will _not _have anyone," her eyes darted to the Avengers, zeroing in on the Hawk, "Least of all a bunch of costumed _freaks, villainizing_ her because of _who she is._"

"Mrs. Frost," Tony spoke up; but she raised a hand, quick, and cut him off. The Power of a Mom: she's one of the few people in the world who can get Tony Stark to shut up.

"I don't know what Loki has and hasn't done to Natalie." My mother went on. "I don't know if she's been turned into his puppet, or if she is doing everything of her own free will. But I can tell you right now that her decision to make her link permanent with Loki was _hers _and no one else's."

She walked directly up to the table. No one tried to stop her; in fact, Natasha even took a few steps back so that she could take 'center stage', so to speak.

Anna Rose sighed deeply. "It was the most terrifying moment of my life, when I discovered what Natalie had been doing, and when she told me that she was never going to remove her connection to this man… but it was also the proudest." There was no doubting the sincerity in my mom's words. "And to be honest… I wasn't surprised. Not in the slightest."

There was a brief moment of silence as my mother contemplated whether or not her point had completely gotten through. She clearly decided that it had not, for she asked, "Do any of you even know how she met April in the first place?"

Confused looks swept the table. It was an odd question; and so far off topic as to be almost ridiculous. But, after a moment, a few of them shook their heads no.

"They were friends since they were in the cradle, right?" Steve asked, seeming more willing to go along with my mother's out-of-the-blue question, more willing to believe that it would conclude on a relevant topic. I talked with Steve about April more than I talked to anyone else about her, so if anyone would know, it would be him.

My mother, however, smiled softly and shook her head. "No." Steve's eyebrows furrowed, and she went on, "I'm not surprised no one knows; I don't think even Natalie herself remembers."

Anna Rose pulled up a seat at the holo-table. The Avengers did not seem surprised by this; but my father _was. _His eyes widened, as though wondering if everyone was going to turn crazy on him.

"They were in preschool. Natalie was maybe four. She had a few friends, but no one close; she wasn't old enough to have anyone she was too close to. No 'best' friends, not yet. But she played along with the other children, perfectly sociable. She shared her toys and helped others when they fell down, and the others did the same for her. She barely knew April's name.

"But she had this toy; a nice shiny little car that was her absolute favorite. Oh, she had dolls and blankets and things that she loved; but there was nothing like this car. There was no particular reason _why _it was her favorite; it just _was._ She loved it, and she never, _never _shared it with _anyone. _She'd get upset if people called her selfish for not sharing, but she just didn't want it to get damaged. It was precious to her. A child's favorite toy is always a precious thing to them.

"One day, April asked to play with it. Natalie, tired of her teachers and the other students getting upset with her for not 'sharing', handed it over. Though she did hover next to April's shoulder like a crazy person." My mother chuckled softly. "And of course, what should happen the second she turns away? The car breaks. April sent it rolling, and lost control of it. It ran right into one of the other kids, who was running nearby, and it was stepped on. Crushed. Irreparable. Damaged beyond repair.

"Natalie was heartbroken, and furious. It didn't matter how many times April said she was sorry, Natalie hated her for breaking that which was most precious to her. She tried to get a teacher to fix it. Teacher couldn't do it. She brought it home to me to fix it; _I _couldn't do it. Her _father _couldn't do it."

Vague recognition sparked in Cameron's eyes, but he shook it off after a moment. He didn't always have the clearest memories of my childhood. Not anymore.

"Natalie was… devastated. She went to school every day, and every day April would say she was sorry, and every day Natalie would say she didn't believe her. She said that it was all her fault. That she _meant _to do it." Anna Rose shook her head back and forth. "She was a little terror sometimes, I swear, but she was angry. And she thought she had a right to be.

"Now, from an adult's perspective, a _'mature'_ perspective," My mother's eyes darted to Thor and back as she said this, "It doesn't seem like anything. A broken toy is just a broken toy. Get over it. But to a child, that means _everything; _and Natalie can certainly hold a grudge, if so inclined. I tried so many times to get her to just forgive April; and, since it was her absolute favorite, we tried to get a replacement. But of course, nothing worked; it wasn't _her _toy. It was some weird plastic thing in a box. It didn't have the heart that she'd poured into her own in all those years of playing with it.

"A little while passed. Natalie was always very into the idea of heroes and villains, good guys and bad guys, and she had convinced herself that she was the good guy, and April the bad. That she had every right to hate April for what she'd done. She had _convinced _herself of this; to the extent that I thought she'd never get along with April again. I literally thought that the two of them would be at each other's throats for at least a few years, until they were adults and perhaps old enough to see past it; if then."

There was a long pause in my mother's story as she took a moment to collect herself. Everyone stayed quiet. Listening. She held a quiet authority all her own; something that they hadn't truly realized until this moment.

After a while, however, my mother continued. "A few weeks after this happened, Cameron was out of the house. It had been a particularly nasty fight, and he hadn't been home in a few days; in fact, before he left, he had called Natalie a 'Nightmare', with her in earshot." My father winced, but my mother didn't even blink. She went on, "It was not our last fight, but it still held an impact on her. She didn't speak for a very, very long time. She was very quiet.

"She started to get very interested in earning money. She did little chores around the house, earning a nickel or quarter for whatever she could do. Finally, she'd earned what she clearly thought was enough, and after school, she asked if I would take her to the store. I did, and she seemed to know what she wanted pretty immediately.

"They were the cheapest pair of friendship bracelets you'll ever see in your life; but I know for a fact that Natalie still has hers. It's so small that it'd never fit her anymore, but it's still in her room. She paid for it herself, and didn't say anything to me about it. I assumed that she'd made a good friend in her class and left it at that; I knew better than to ask too many questions from Natalie after these… disagreements with Cameron. She never answered.

"She had them in her hands during the car ride to preschool the next day. Small, plastic pinks bands; one with the word 'Best' written on it, and the other one with the word 'Friends'. I dropped her off at school and thought nothing of it when she came home wearing the 'Best' one. But after that, I saw her playing with April again. And after a while, the two were nigh inseparable.

"I didn't make the connection between the two events until I met up with a teacher, later; and she told me the whole story. That day at lunch, Natalie had sat down next to April, who had become almost afraid of Natalie after so long. It had only been an accident, after all. So she was… startled, I'm sure.

"And then Natalie shoved the 'Friends' bracelet towards April, making it very clear that the other one was on her wrist. 'Here,' she said, plain as day. 'Take it.' When April did, Natalie said, 'Now you're the good guy again. So I don't have to be mad at you any more.'"

There was silence for a beat. Then, quietly, my mother said, "She has always been this way. She has always destroyed her 'enemies' by befriending them." She took a deep breath and said, with a harder undertone, "Say what you will about her actions now. But never question that her decision to stay with Loki was her own. Because you will always be _wrong." _

Her eyes were alight as they locked on Clint; the assassin didn't look away.

"No offense, Mrs. Frost, but we're not talking about a broken toy car, here." Barton said in a dark tone. "A kid can forgive a person for breaking their toy because they've got no choice. But not something like _that. _Not for killing someone _that close _to them. You knew their relationship; the two were practically sisters! No one can forgive that! No one can simply…_forget _that, just for the sake of _helping _someone they _hate!_"

"No one can?" My mother asked, lifting one eyebrow. "Or just you?"

Ringing, echoing, _deafening _silence.

Clint's hands clenched in fists.

"And that is _exactly _what we are talking about," My mother went on. She didn't seem to notice the absolute bloodlust that had sparked in Clint's eyes. He was going to kill something. Probably Loki, but whatever was in arm's reach was good, too. Stark moved away a bit.

"And Natalie knows it. Because as far as Loki was concerned, that was all April was. Natalie's favorite toy." Thor flinched. It was an accurate description, actually. "He broke her and he didn't understand why it hurt so badly. So Natalie showed him." My mother stood. "I repeat. Whatever Natalie is doing now may or may not be under his control. But that decision is where this all started; and that decision was _hers._" She turned away. "And now the decision is _yours. _I hope you make the right one."

She took a few steps and walked right out the door.

There was a very, very, _very _long silence following her words. And then Cameron sighed very heavily; almost theatrically so.

"What?" he demanded harshly. "You didn't think Natalie got that psychology gene from _me, _did you?"

* * *

I think I passed out for almost an hour before Loki shook me awake. Well, I say 'shook'. In reality, I kinda fell asleep on his arm; and when the door opened, he didn't bother trying to wake me up before yanking said arm out from under my head roughly and standing upright, so that the upper half of my body fell onto the couch cushions. I snapped awake, then scrambled to my feet as I saw Clint entering the room.

I'd meant to shift myself in front of Loki, to keep him from being attacked if the Avengers had decided against him. But as I stood up, I realized that Loki had the exact same idea, because he was standing in front of me in a very subtly protective stance. I'll admit, even though I knew it was just because of the link, the gesture almost made me smile. On a better day, I probably would have grinned.

Clint eyed us both and scowled. Jerking a thumb over his shoulder, he said, "Conference room. Both of you. Now."

Loki and I didn't exactly share a 'look', but our minds _did _kinda nudge against each other. Double-checking the other's intentions. Making sure we both agreed to move forwards in the same way.

The two of us followed Clint out of the room. I saw it as a bad sign that they'd sent the Hawk; if he'd been so against Loki staying here, then it was unlikely that they'd send _him_ to fetch us if they were on _our_ side.

_Our _side. _Him. _I hated this sudden redefining of the boundaries, this sudden Us vs. Them that had come into play. Ugh, I swear, it was enough to make me turn into a hippie. _Why can't we be friends, why can't we be friends…_

Or maybe this: _Help! I need somebody, Help! Not just anybody, HELP!_

Yep, I was losing it. I shook my head out a little, trying to clear away the lingering sleepiness. I was surprised that Loki let me nap for even a while; but then, with my anxiety out of the way, _his _might have been a bit more manageable. I knew the feeling. I'd been there before.

We entered the conference room together, trailing just behind Clint. I immediately started reading faces, scanning them all, but Loki's eyes went straight for Thor. He was always the open book; if we'd get any information ahead of schedule, it would be from him.

The Norse god of Thunder was smiling at us tragically. That could be a good thing or a bad thing; he was on our side, so he could be sorry about what he was about to do, or just sorry that all of this had happened in the first place. My gaze clapped onto Steve, but his features were neutral. Not that I'd have gotten much from him, anyway. I still didn't know what side he was on.

I looked, instead, to Banner. But none of these faces were giving us any information. My fingers brushed against Loki's, but I pulled them back before I could hold his hand, making it look like an accident. Of course. We were in front of the Avengers. We were putting on a show for them. We were two people now. We were lies.

Stark sat at head of the conference table, the others arranged loosely around it. My parents were nowhere to be found. Tony pointed to the seats closest to the door, farthest from him.

"Sit."

Loki made as if to do so. I, on the other hand, got irritated. "Say please." I answered, folding my arms over my chest. Loki rolled his eyes and seemed ready to lead me to the seat anyway, but I kept my feet rooted and my eyes on Stark. Loki glanced between the two of us, vaguely nervous.

"Please," Stark corrected himself.

I sat down. Loki clenched his teeth and did the same.

_You're a fool, Frost._

_Quite possibly. _

The exchange lasted less than a second. Stark took a deep breath and let it out in a heavy sigh.

"All right," he announced. "The majority has decided. More importantly, _I _have decided." His eyes shifted to Loki. "You're staying. Anyone who has a problem with it can go. Anyone who tries to stop either of you can go. And anyone without a good attitude about the whole thing can _go._" He crossed his arms over his chest, half-covering the little arc reactor there. "Loki stays on his designated floors. Natalie stays with Loki." His eyes went around to everyone. "She's part of the team. And he's part of her. If we can't trust our own team, then we might as well shoot ourselves right now. Clear enough?"

I stared. Stared for a little longer. The words slowly sank in. I think I could have hugged Tony Stark right then. A proper, bone-crushing, spine-shattering, rib-reorganizing bear hug. Instead, however, I cleared my throat and, looking down, mumbled, "Thanks, Tone."

"Majority vote, Pizza Girl." He shrugged, as though it couldn't possibly matter less. "Fact is, we trust this slimy creep a lot more than we trust ol' Shadow-Breath, any day. At least _him, _we can beat up."

I still felt kinda glowy inside, despite his attempts to blow off all sentimentality. Thor clapped a giant hand on my back, and I realized that the other Avengers were trickling out of the room; and that they had been for a while. Thor's little gesture was one of farewell. I lifted an eyebrow. Tony was still looking at us both.

"Clint wants us to put double guards outside of your doors," Tony said, his voice lowering now that a large number of Avengers had dispersed. It was only him and the Cap left. "_Both _of your doors, I might add."

I exchanged a look with Loki; one of those long stares that made it _look _like we were 'talking' to each other, when in reality we were just… well, looking. Like normal people. "I'm cool with it." I said after a moment.

"Well, I'm _not._" Stark said. "We can't afford this useless, petty shit."

"Fraye managed to attack us as a very vulnerable point in time," Steve spoke up; and just like that, we were discussing strategy again. Or at least, getting up to speed on the Avengers' strategy. "When we went to retrieve your mother, we had just been training. The team was divided. We were tired and split apart and not at our best. We have to make sure that doesn't happen again." He looked at me and Loki, his gaze going back and forth between the two of us. However he had voted, he had clearly accepted Tony's rules on 'no hostilities among the team'.

"From now on, we are not all going to train at once. And we can no longer afford to keep a guard on Loki 24/7. And, given the number of times he's been left alone in the past few days, even if only for a few minutes, it's pretty clear that was never going to work, anyway." Steve pointed to me. "To the best of your abilities, however, we want you to stick to him like _glue._"

My eyes were wide. Two minutes ago, I'd been worried about Loki being thrown out of the Tower and sent back to Asgard. Now, they were giving him _more _freedom? What kind of sick punch line was about to hit me in the face?

"Clint's determined to sleep outside of your rooms, at the very least," Tony said, shaking his head slowly. "But other than that, I think you'll be left alone."

I looked down. Loki didn't seem to know _where _to look, so his eyes had phased out at a point somewhere to Stark's left.

"Training schedule will be on the fridge tomorrow morning," Tony added, walking to the exit; he stopped just beside Loki and placed a hand on his shoulder. I would've thought it a strangely friendly gesture if his fingers didn't dig into the Asgardian's shoulder so painfully.

"Welcome to the team," he said, dripping sarcasm, then left the room. Now it was only us and Steve left.

The room was quiet following Stark's exit. Subtracting Tony from the equation usually tends to make everything equal 'silence'. My mind was tumbling, trying to figure everything out. Of course, their reasons made sense and their plans were good ones; but why in the _hell _would they listen to reason _now, _directly after the single most unreasonable thing to ever happen in my life just… well, _happened?_

Steve stood slowly. "Welcome to the team," he echoed Stark's sardonic sentiment, heading towards the exit. Leaving us alone. _Trusting _us alone. It was… unreal. And all so fast, all _too fast…_

"Wait!" I called, whirling around just as he was a foot away from the door. He turned to me as I stood, almost falling out of my chair in my scramble to pull myself to my feet. "Wait," I panted, jogging those few steps up to him.

"Is this what you wanted?" I demanded, because it was suddenly very, _very _important that I know. My throat was clogged. Why was it clogged? It wasn't like I'd been _that _upset when I found out that Steve had contemplated believing Fraye, not like I couldn't live if I found out that he had decided against me…

Ok. Yes it was.

"Do you believe us? Regardless of Stark's rules? Do you believe me, Steve?"

His eyes tightened as they found mine. I looked up at him, trying to keep the pleading notes from my words. They slipped in, anyway, bleeding through the web of cracks.

After a long moment, he sighed. "The only person who voted to send him back to Asgard was Clint. The rest of us believe you, Natalie. Of course we do. We've been through too much _not _to."

And then… he just turned around and left.

* * *

Loki and I were still reeling a few hours later. The windows had gone dark, and the two of us had kept mostly to ourselves throughout the day; but not because the Avengers had ostracized us. On the contrary; they seemed to be friendlier to Loki than they had ever been (with Clint as the glaring exception). They even made eye contact with him, wonder of wonders. They were making an effort. It was not something that anyone had expected; but I'd be lying if I said that it wasn't something that I'd hoped for.

The two of us were walking back from the library together, pretending like nothing was wrong. Like nothing had happened. We had fallen into our old rhythm, (or at the very least, had _pretended _to, for JARVIS' sake) and were currently in a heated discussion about the Hunger Games. Well, _I _was in a heated discussion about it. Loki thought I was crazy, as usual.

"They're decent books, you know!" I protested as Loki shifted the large tome he'd retrieved under his arm; a collection of Shakespeare's works. The closest thing to 'tolerable' in Stark's Midgardian collection. "It wouldn't kill you to read something _outside _of Ye Olde English from time to time."

"You have read them four times, Frost. I know the basic storyline."

"What, you've never re-read a book a day in your life?"

"The characters are both mortal and _fictional. _Neither of which make them worth investing my time."

"Romeo and Juliet are mortals, too." I pointed out, jabbing a finger towards his book. "Macbeth, Cleopatra-she wasn't fictional, but you get the point- all of these people! You're still reading about them!"

He sighed heavily, exasperatedly. "Enough, Frost."

"Ok, not the Hunger Games, then, but come on! There's gotta be _something _that's more _modern _that you might _like!_"

"Nothing 'modern' holds my interest. And I do not see why you are so concerned with this."

"What if it's the last book you ever read in your life, huh? You really wanna be known as 'that dude who wouldn't even expand his horizons when a destroyer of worlds came knocking'?"

"Who will be around to call me as such?" He asked, dark humor in his eyes.

I was about to bite out a sharp remark when we passed by an open doorway; we were headed to the elevator, not this room, so we would have walked right past if it had not been for Loki, catching sight of a flash of red hair inside. He halted as I kept going, "Even so, you can't be totally blind to-"

Noticing that he had stopped, I skidded to a halt, turning to him. "Loki? What's wrong?"

He paused, considering. Recognizing his intent, my eyebrows rose, somewhat skeptic, and a little startled. I gave him a long, hard look as he debated with himself. After a moment, however, he held the book out to me, handing it over.

I didn't protest, taking it from him. "See you later, then?"

He nodded once and turned away from me. I shook my head a few times, a slow and somewhat bemused gesture, then tucked his book under my arms with my own, and headed up to deposit it in his room.

Loki stood outside of the doorway, just outside of the room's occupant's line of sight. He took a brief moment to collect his thoughts, then walked inside, silently and-above all- very, _very _carefully.

Natasha didn't seem to be doing anything. There was a file lying open in her lap and soft music was playing from the radio, but her gaze was turned to the window and was clearly far away from here. Loki knew that she was aware of his entrance into the room, but still she did not react, did not turn to him, didn't even blink.

The two didn't say anything for a while; perhaps because they didn't wish to, perhaps because they couldn't. But, in the end, it was Loki who broke the silence.

"It was not his doing."

Natasha blinked once, then turned her head to him, looking at him blankly. "Sorry?" She asked the question but did not bother to feign interest in the answer. Or perhaps she was interested and did not want him to see it. One way or another, her face was empty of emotion.

"Barton." Loki explained. "Whatever he said to you… those words were not his."

Interest finally managed to seep into her features. She crossed her legs at the ankle and sat back. "Then whose words were they?"

Loki looked down and away. "They were not mine, either, Agent Romanoff."

"I didn't say that they were."

"It is what you were thinking."

"I'm not Natalie. You don't know _what _I'm thinking."

Loki's lips curved up at the edges, a cynical smirk. "Perhaps." He admitted.

He took a few steps towards a chair near Natasha, but also facing towards her, so that the two were directly across from each other when he lowered himself into the seat. They were quiet again; Loki knew that Romanoff wished to know what he knew about Barton, but he also knew that she was incredibly patient; she knew how to illicit information from whomsoever she chose. If Loki did not speak on the subject in a timely matter, she could find a number of ways to ensure that he did so sooner or later. He chose sooner.

"Fraye has a wide variety of weaponry at her disposal," he said, his words oddly direct, for him. "But perhaps the one least noticed is her attack upon the subconscious." He paused, considering his words. "This… _influence_ on her chosen worlds has always been a subtle one. But what little information that comes from neighboring planets, or planets that were in contact with the ones she destroyed… it all points to a thin selection of options, depending on the subject in question." He hesitated, but soldiered on momentarily. "In many cases- and in the case of Miss Frost and myself- it takes shape in the form of nightmares. This is the more typical reaction; and I would not be surprised if you or the others were also afflicted by them."

Natasha said nothing. Loki went on, "However, considering Barton's… ah… _outlook _on the situation, it would seem… _logical _to assume that her influence on him has taken shape in a far different form; that of an anger even beyond what is normal for him."

Natasha's eyebrows furrowed. Loki sighed. "Perhaps that is not the best way to explain." He pressed the tips of his fingers together, thinking. After a moment, he had his wording. "Fraye, by her very _nature, _can… _exude _certain dark emotions. Her telepathy can occasionally expand into _empathy,_ in that her very presence can illicit very strong emotional reactions: acute fear, blinding pain, or, in Barton's case, uncontrollable fury."

Natasha considered that. "So he's being manipulated again. Brainwashed again."

"No. Not precisely." Loki hesitated again. "His _thoughts_ are still his own. His actions are still done of his own free will; but his fury is such that he may… forget himself, from time to time. But he will _feel _as though his actions are justified."

Natasha nodded slowly, clearly understanding. But it was a slow nod, a thoughtful one. "Why are you telling me this?" She questioned, her eyes on him, as though attempting to fit all of the pieces together.

Loki could no longer meet her gaze; his head turned to the side, staring out of the window that she had been looking out of just moments before. "Because Natalie wished for me to."

_Liar. _I chided. Because he couldn't honestly expect me _not _to listen in on this.

"Liar," Natasha echoed my sentiment. "If Natalie wanted to tell me, Natalie would have told me. She wouldn't have sent you." She folded her hands over her knee. "So why?"

Loki tried to hide the regretful smile. Natasha was very adept at gauging others' emotions; and she was learning to read him just as well as I could, even without the advantage of the link.

"Do you think Barton would believe me if I said this directly to him?" Loki queried in response. "It is unlikely that he will believe _anyone_; his emotions are too clouded, too blinding. But he would listen to you, should you decide to tell him." His head turned away again. "But I leave that decision in your hands."

"But why are you even bothering to tell us about Fraye's effect on him?" Natasha pushed. "You know that it will only make the others suspicious; that they will believe you are merely saying this in order to sow distrust among the team. To turn us against ourselves; and against Clint, your greatest enemy within the group." Her eyes narrowed just slightly. "So why bother? Why say anything?"

In my room, I bit my lip. How to explain _that _one?

But Loki knew. He didn't particularly want to say it out loud, but he knew. He tucked his hand under his chin-he had not looked to Natasha since he'd turned away- and kept his gaze distant.

"Because _you_ needed to know." He said after a long pause. "You have… kept silent about…" He trailed off; but he did not need to finish that particular sentence. There were so many secrets that Natasha now knew. He went on as though nothing was wrong, saying, "And, contrary to popular belief, I am not without honor."

His head turned, and his eyes clicked onto Natasha's. "And Fraye is not a curse that I would wish on my worst enemies. Not even you." He barely stifled a sigh. "If you are aware of her influence, even if he is not, then perhaps you can keep it from affecting you. From tearing you away from the one thing that may help destroy this nightmare; the Avengers."

He stopped talking now; not an abrupt halt, but somewhat jarring nonetheless. I blinked a few times. That meant a lot, coming from him. And it made me feel unbearably smug about the whole thing, what with Natasha seeing Loki as not-as-bad-a-guy-as-originally-suspected and Loki seeing Natasha as the genius-badass-super-spy she was, instead of a puny little mortal who managed to best him once. Loki was irritated by my smugness, but there wasn't really anything he could do about it.

Natasha studied the Trickster for a very long moment. Then, slowly, she nodded. "All right," She said. "I can understand that." Another long pause. Then, "Thank you."

Loki blinked, looking to Natasha in surprise, but she was clearly finished with the conversation. Her gaze turned downwards to the file on her lap, and she thumbed through the pages, no longer even seeming to recognize his presence. She had…_ thanked _him? For what, giving her the information she wanted?

_No, _I noted softly. _For giving it to her willingly. _

Loki stood and turned to leave, his eyes troubled as they stayed on the ground, as he listened to my explanation. _She's a spy, Loki. She's had to beat Intel out of people in a thousand different ways, from a thousand different enemies. You are her enemy, and she is yours; so it means so much more that you would tell her these things… so that she doesn't have to resort to her… usual tactics. _

Loki's eyebrows furrowed. I sighed and added, _It means that, perhaps, there will be a little less red in her ledger. _

He considered that, then shook his head and sighed. _Mortals, _he grumbled, giving up, and I smiled a little.

Without another word, Loki came up the stairs, picked up his book, and buried himself inside it.

* * *

"_You're the one who got her killed, Natalie! The least you can do… the __**very least… **__is __**talk **__to me, dammit!" _

I jammed my finger on the 'delete' button, then pressed the phone to my ear again. Another message rang soon afterwards, the same shrill voice shouting barbed accusations and cutting demands.

"_I swear, if I ever see you at that grave again… She wasn't yours, Natalie, she never was, she was __**my **__daughter, and you… you had __**no **__right to take her from me!"_

Beep. Deleted.

"_I know you have her blueprint sketchbook! I know you had it last, Natalie! You're going to give it back! You __**have **__to give it back or I'll-"_

Beep. Also deleted.

"_It was you're fault!" _The words were slurring as she got drunker and drunker. _"It has always been __**your fault!**_"

Loki sighed through his nose, the back of his hand draped over his eyes, his other hand resting on his stomach. He was lying on his back in his bedroom, and I was on the floor next to the bed in mine. They had such similar themes that, with the link, it felt almost as if we were in the same room. "Why do you still listen to those, Frost?" he asked aloud, knowing I could hear him in my mind. "There is nothing to be gained from it."

Beep. Another delete. "I'm not listening to them. I'm getting rid of them."

"By listening to them."

"You know what, that's the phone's fault, ok? There just isn't a 'delete all voicemails' button." I grumbled and jammed my finger into the delete button again. It had been a few days since the Avengers' decision, and Loki and I were… well, bored. It was odd, the extremes of emotion that still took place, even under the looming threat of Fraye-inflicted pain and death. Oh, and Clint's crazy bird-eyed stare of doom. He still hadn't forgiven us for the travesty of being pronounced innocent.

And so Loki and I were both sitting in our respective rooms, bored out of our skulls. I'd decided to listen to the voicemails that had been steadily backing up every time I skipped a call. All of them were from Mrs. Blackthorn; I was pretty certain I was about to throw my head into a wall. How April ended up being so awesome with this bitch of a mother, I'd never know…

No. I pushed that thought aside. I was just tired of it. She was just grieving. She was just a person in pain.

Loki snorted; not at what I'd said, but rather, what I'd thought. "You know that is not true," he reminded me.

"You know what would be really awesome right now?" I snapped back. "If you shut up. That would just like, make my day."

Beep. Deleted. Loki was right, of course. Even before her daughter's supposed 'suicide', April's mother had always been…

No. I couldn't let myself think it. I shook my head out. I'd never hated her before, but I was starting to borderline on it. As if I didn't hate myself enough for April's death; now _she _had to hate me, too? Ugh, it was so much BS that I thought I'd throw up.

"Perhaps if you reminded Mrs. Blackthorn of this fact…" Loki continued.

"No!" I snapped. "No, no, no and another _no. _Understood? _You _don't get to talk about April. _You_ don't get to tell me what to do, how to handle her family, how to deal with anything to do with her death. Clear?"

He half-shrugged. "As you wish," He said, but it was lofty and arrogant again. I pinched the bridge of my nose.

"Ugh, screw this," I jammed my finger into the delete button one more time before turning off my phone and chucking it at my pillow. "I'm outta here."

Loki almost rolled his eyes at me, but he didn't reply. I walked out of my room, closing the door behind me. I was frustrated. And bored. Any other day, and I'd head to the gym and start pounding on helpless punching bags. I'd gotten quite a bit stronger since I'd come here, let me tell you. I was no longer the little weakling shrimp that Loki had taunted and tormented a few years back.

But I couldn't do that today. I'd already been through my training session, and while Steve had okayed the spies to continue exercising after these sessions, he had thought that I should probably give it a rest. We didn't want anyone to be tired out if Fraye came knocking. Though the spies were pretty good judges of how long, exactly, they should be training and/or working out, _I_ have been known to pull muscles and crap by pushing my limits a teensy bit too far. Oops.

It was surprising, though, how much easier things had gotten since we'd been training in separate groups like this. At least, in terms of Loki. Everyone was actually making an effort to be polite_-_if not _nice- _to him. They were trying to get the team to work together. And it was amazingly easy; as 'easy' as any of this could get.

I swear, nothing, but _nothing, _in Stark Tower helped the Avengers and Loki get… 'closer' together than the daily training sessions. We usually had one or two a day, with separate people; and while Loki hadn't gone through his yet today, he'd done it a few other times beforehand. And it was easy. It was freaking _easy. _

What better way to bring enemies together, than to stick them in a room for a while and let them duke it out? And then to force them to critique their fighting styles, their moves, to _work together? _

It was pretty impressive, if I do say so myself. I mean, it's hard to stay mad at someone whom you've got that kind of connection with; the bond forged in battle, as Loki had once called it. Loki was used to such connections- he and Thor had one that ran very deep, after all- but it was… different for him, to have that sort of thing with a mortal. And to have it with Thor again.

I'd been really antsy about allowing Loki and Thor to spar alone together, but Steve was two steps ahead of me, as usual. The two were never in a session alone. It was definitely for the best, though it did upset Thor a little. He missed being able to trust his brother.

I sighed heavily and started towards one of the living rooms. I would challenge Tony to a video game war, but he and Steve were currently in the training room together, fighting it out. It was strange, how normal it had gotten to ignore occasional explosions coming from the Tower's basement; how none of us freaked out if the entire thing trembled just the slightest bit. But that was especially in effect if Tony, Thor, or Clint were in training.

The first living room I came across was empty; which was good, but at the same time, I didn't really want to be alone right now. I just didn't particularly want to be around _Loki _right now, either.

I kept searching, not aware that I was looking for my mother until I found her. Unfortunately, I found my father as well.

The two still hadn't gotten out of the Tower; Fury said that they were still looking for somewhere to place them. I said that he was still full of shit. He still didn't care.

Thor thought that, perhaps, they'd be safer on Asgard; though it was still being debated on whether or not we should just send them there and be done with it. I was all for that option; my parents would be safer there than they would be on Earth. _Anywhere _on Earth; even in the Tower.

As I entered the room, I forced myself to give both of my parents a wary smile. Tony had said that my mother had spoken a bit in my defense: 'sort of'. What that meant, I wasn't sure; but I knew for a fact that my father wasn't happy about it.

We'd used these past few days to get him an appointment with a S.H.I.E.L.D.- appointed doctor. I hadn't been able to go with him, which only made things worse, of course… but it had reminded everyone of the pressing worry of the lesions on his brain, reminded us all exactly why Cameron Frost hated Loki Laufeyson so damn much…

To be honest, it was starting to grate on my nerves, his inability to let things go. I understood it; not everyone could just forget things like that. Not everyone _bothered _to.

But I still didn't _like _it.

"Hey, you two," I greeted them both with false cheer. I glanced to the TV, where some show was playing. "What's on?"

"Reruns," my mother shrugged. I plopped myself down onto the couch next to her.

"Cool. Better than what I was doing." I tried to identify the characters onscreen. "Erm… Lost?"

"Yeah." My mother nodded. My father didn't say a word. His hands clenched in fists beside him, and he cleared his throat, but he didn't say anything. "Your father didn't see them all," My mother added.

"Really?" I asked. He shook his head 'no'. I'd seen the entire series twice now, and it _still _gave me a headache. Then again, I'd had a lot of free time in the past year, hanging around the Tower doing nothing. I was used to that, to having time to watch and re-watch a bunch of TV.

We were silent for a long time, watching The Island do weird shit and people all freak out about it, with dramatic music and sappy love stories to go along with it… Loki, in my head and getting bored, closed his eyes and tried to sleep. Neither of us had slept well in a while, after all; Fraye's nightmares were really bringing out the worst in us. After a while, I cleared my throat and spoke up.

"So how did your doctor's appointment go, anyway?" I asked Cameron.

He paused, then, his words cautious and deliberate, he replied, "Nothing new, really. The lesions aren't malignant." He swallowed. "The doctor was fairly confident that they were due to Loki's… _tampering._"

I tried not to react to that. I'd already known as much. "Well, we did kinda figure that," I sighed heavily.

"'We'?" my father asked darkly, as though I'd only been referring to myself and Loki. My mother nudged him carefully, a silent scolding in the small gesture.

I wanted to roll my eyes; was he honestly _trying _to pick a fight? "Yes. I thought that you'd figured that as well. Sorry if I assumed wrong." I tried to shrug, to keep the ice from my words, but it was difficult.

He snorted. I took a deep breath. It only now occurred to me that if Clint was reacting to Fraye's influence by becoming angrier, then perhaps my father was as well. There was one more reason not to get angry, one more reason to just relax and let everything slide, to pretend as though none of his words mattered.

Besides; Cameron was fairly certain that Loki had taken over my mind, had turned me into his pawn. As far as he was concerned, he was no longer talking to his daughter when he was facing me; he was talking to _Loki. _It didn't matter what he said to me. It wasn't meant _for _me.

Hopefully.

I just wished that the two of us could laugh, could have fun, could act like a father and daughter should. I mean, really, was that so hard to ask?

We sat there in awkward, tense silence for a long time, watching the TV. I kept my eyes glued on it, trying to keep from looking at my father and knowing every time that his eyes landed on me. My foot started tapping, and I began to pick at my fingernails with reckless abandon. I knew that one of us was going to crack at some point. That one of us would bring up the elephant in the room, and it would all be over. Every so often, I tried to open my mouth, to be the person who cracked… but every time I'd clamp it shut, until finally, _finally, _my father spoke. His words were seemingly out of the blue and random; but I'd known that they were coming.

"You shouldn't have brought him back, Natalie."

In spite of knowing in advance that the conversation would come up, something cold still ran down my spine. It rolled out in droplets down each of my vertebrae, seeped in through my skin and spread out across my ribs. I turned to my parents; my mother was giving Cameron a 'Shut-Up-While-Your-Ahead' glare, but he ignored her. His eyes were locked dead on me.

"Oh?" I asked, my voice suddenly lofty. Airy. Detached. Everything that I wished I could be in that second. "And why's that?"

"Natalie, stop," My mother scolded. She was again ignored.

"You have to ask _why?_" My father snapped. It was immediate, instinctual. It was a rage that had been bubbling for a long time and now… now it had boiled over. "I don't care how bad you think that this 'Fraye' character is; you shouldn't have brought _him _back to 'fight' her." I opened my mouth to say something, but he cut me off, raising two fingers. My gesture. My gesture on his hands. "Siding with the lesser of two evils is still siding with evil. And after everything he did to you, to us, to this family… I find it incredible that you could even _consider _it, let alone go _through _with all of this." His eyes turned hard. "You can't fight evil _with _evil."

I snorted. "You're really one to talk, aren't you?" My word rang with a dark undercurrent, which swirled beneath each syllable, bent and black despite the airy loftiness that I knew, somewhere, that I had adopted from Loki. "You really think that hating him all the time is _helping _anything, dad? What do you think _made _people like him? Why do you think he _is _that way? Because of his _hatred. _Because he let it fester and breed and well up inside of him." The words were coming out faster then I could stop them, faster then I could filter them, and I found myself saying, "You're no better than he is."

"Natalie!" My mother chided. Cameron's fists tightened.

"_Me?_" He laughed. It was an oddly bitter sound. I tried to imagine that laugh wasn't his. That none of these words were really meant for me. That I didn't have to respond to them. I couldn't. I couldn't even pretend. Because, even without Fraye's influence… this was everything I'd ever wanted to say to him. And obviously everything he'd ever wanted to say to me. _"Me?"_ he repeated.

"Cameron!" My mother was getting angrier. A touch more desperate. Reasoning with us both. Too late; in a matter of seconds, the two of us had been brought beyond reason. And why not? This fight hadn't been building for seconds: it had been building since Loki's arrival on Earth.

"You know what?" My father asked, his voice cutting, edged with a blade so fine as to be invisible; but nonetheless damaging and slicing. "I can't believe you. I honestly _can not _believe you. You talk about hate, you act like you're so much _better _than me, better than _us, _because of your damn Avengers, because you think that you're being a _good person _by _forgiving _Loki for what he did… but in the end, there's only one reason why you're doing that. Only _one._"

"_Cameron!_" My mother shrieked, horrified, terrible recognition in her eyes. That, more than anything, clinched it for me; convinced me that these were not Fraye's words, that these were _his. _Because why else would my mother recognize them, if he had not talked with her about it before?

"Oh, yeah?" I sneered. And I was suddenly seven years old again, watching the hate in my father's eyes… but now I didn't have to take it. Now I stood above it. Now _I _could be the one who walked away, if I could force my footsteps in the opposite direction.

Nope. I suddenly I realized that we were both standing up, that we were inches away from each other, and that I was stepping closer. "And what's that?"

"What do you _think?_" He laughed again, incensed. Wrath crackled in his eyes, hostility emanating from every feature.

"Dunno," I spat. My mother was trying to pull Cameron back, to pull him away from me… We still paid no attention to each other. "Maybe that's why I _asked._"

"You're so damn blind, Nat. You actually think that you're doing this because it's the _'right thing'." _He shook his head out furiously. His brown hair- the exact shade as mine- shifted just a little with the movement. "But in reality, you're just doing this because he's _just like you._" He threw up his hands and laughed once more; it was an oddly irate sound, somewhere cracked in the middle between a joyful and aggravated sound. "He's just another _monster!"_

My heart stopped.

"_CAMERON!" _My mother shrieked. I only barely heard her in the echoing, roaring sound of blood rushing in my ears. Dimly, somewhere in the back of my mind, her voice registered; and I noticed Loki standing from where he was lying in his room, now walking towards me in an attempt to do damage control. Because we both knew how close I was to snapping, to going completely berserk.

But for the moment, I didn't. Because I had to hear what he had to say.

"No," I growled at my mother. "No, let him finish." Electricity zapped through my veins at the speed of light, warping my blood, curdling it. "Go on, _dad. _Say your piece. Get it off your chest."

His eyes burned. He was so much like me, this man with my face and blood and fiery fury, this man with my forehead and jaw line, my gestures and quirks, my sarcasm and my temper… But, in the end, he was everything that I was not.

"I've tried so hard to convince myself that you're not like him, that you aren't just one more monster." He was glaring at the ground. Not even looking at me. Not even looking me in the eye as he ripped my heart out, that son of a bitch. "But face the facts, Nat. You ignore us, ignore your family, ignore your normal friends… for _them. _For the Avengers. For S.H.I.E.L.D. But, above all, _for him." _He shook his head again. His blue eyes were still on the ground, those blue eyes that differed from my own brown ones, those blue eyes that I had once hated, had once loathed… and now could learn to do so again. "_He killed April. _He killed _your best friend. _And you just forgot about it. Pretended like it didn't matter, told yourself it didn't, forgave him for everything so readily, so quickly, because you had to, because he was a monster, just like you… and one monster has to forgive another, has to _help _another…

"And then there was me. I'm… I'm your _father, _Natalie. Your _father. _And you can't even look me in the eye! This man tortured and tormented you for months and that doesn't matter, but _I _was forced into saying things that I did not believe, forced into seeing things that were not there… and it's _still __**my fault!**_ Even after all this time, you can't call me 'dad', you can't look at me without sneering or flinching, and you always, _always _look the other way whenever your mother and I are happy, whenever we're together… because _you can't stand it! _You can't _stand _seeing _us _happy, because we're _not like you! We're not monsters! We're __**not like him!"**_

"SAY IT AGAIN, DAD!" I was suddenly screaming. "SAY IT AGAIN!"

He obliged. "You're a _monster, _Nat! You always have been, and you _always will be!_"

"_Again!_"

"Natalie, please, stop!" My mother was pleading, begging. "Cameron, _please!_"

"_Go on, one more time!_" I shouted. "Say it again!" I was advancing towards him, and suddenly there were arms around mine, pinning them behind my back, restraining me. Keeping me from moving forwards. Keeping me from hurting my father.

"Let it go, Frost," Loki was right behind me, whispering in my ear. It was his arms that were binding mine, that were holding me back. "This isn't him."

"YES IT IS!" I screamed, struggling against him. "It's always been him! Always! Since the beginning! Since the damn _beginning!_"

"That's right, Natalie!" My father shouted, gesturing wildly to Loki standing behind me, to the Trickster whispering in my ear. "Back into his arms! You're _his puppet, _Nat! You're his _willing slave, _and you _know it! _You're _**his**__ pet __**monster**__!_"

I snarled, an inhuman shriek bursting out of me as I jabbed my elbow back into Loki's ribs. He grunted, the blow surprisingly fierce, but did not let go.

"You've no _idea _what I am, Dad!" I screamed. "I've done more for you, for this _planet, _than _anyone else _ever could have!"

"_Please, _Natalie, just stop, Cameron, _stop!_" My mother's frantic, frenetic cries remained unheard. Cameron came within a few inches of me, his nose just a breath away from mine.

"I've done _everything for you!_" I shouted into his face, twisting and writhing in Loki's grip. He struggled to keep hold of me, because we were both certain that I would hurt someone very badly if he let me go. "_Everything! _Who do you think I'm trying to _protect, _dad? Who do you think I'm trying to _save? _You think I'm just doing this because Earth is a neat place, because oh, who knows, maybe it's the only planet in the universe that has _pickles?! _Oh, and what the hell, let's save peanut butter, too!" I was switching back and forth between languages with rapid intensity; half of my conversation was in Spanish, with a few intermingled Danish words as well. _"__**NO! **__I'm doing this for you! _For _you _and _mom _and even Mrs. Freaking _Blackthorn! _I'm doing this for _April _and her _grave, _for the _Avengers, _for _Benny_ and _Jade _and _Adrian, _and every single one of my friends, my _family_! I'm doing this for the people I haven't even _met! And I'm doing this for __**YOU!"**_ I was shaking from head to toe now, trembling. I wasn't crying. I was too furious to cry.

No, that's not true.

I was too _damaged _to cry.

I was all but in shock. There were no tears. I had no more tears left. Life had been throwing shit my way for weeks now, had been tearing me down and trying to rebuild me, had been ripping me apart and throwing so much pain and agony my way that I was just _done _with it. I was literally _done _with pain. I doubted I could have felt pain if I _wanted _to. Because I was _exhausted _by this, by this endless doubt and anger, fear and hate, by all of these dark emotions, these shadowed days with so little light to dispel my endless darkness…

"_I do __**everything for you!**__" _And then the words were out. They were out and gone and in the air and they were never going to come back, they were never going to lock themselves away again, never going to tuck themselves back behind my heart where they belonged. The truth beyond all other truths… "Dammit, dad, everything I've ever done in my life has been _for you! _Do you really think that _stopped_ because suddenly you were _here!? _Because you were suddenly a _part of my life? _Do you really think I've stopped trying to_ prove myself to you!? Do you really think I've stopped trying to prove that I __**deserve**__ to have a __**father? **__That I __**deserve to be **__**happy!?**__**"**_

My father took a step back.

"Do you _really_ _think _that a _single one _of _my actions _has been _anything _but a _desperate _attempt to prove to you that I-I-I…" I stammered and stuttered, my words breaking apart. My hair drifted in front of my face as I looked down, abruptly ceasing in my struggle in Loki's arms. "That I am _worthy _to be _your_ _**daughter?" **_

Silence rang in the air following this statement.

Slowly, carefully, Loki's arms relaxed from mine, releasing me. He said nothing to me, but he did not need to. It was a pain familiar to us both. Our fathers always knew that we were monsters, from the very beginnings of our lives, and no matter how hard we tried… we could never prove them wrong.

I allowed my arms to fall back to my sides limply, hair still trailing in front of my eyes as I stared at the ground, studying the carpet. And then I was laughing. I don't know why. I was breaking too badly to laugh.

"But apparently I _did _prove myself. I _did _prove everything I needed to prove. To you. To myself. To everyone." I looked up to Cameron, giving him a single, tight nod. "Thank you, dad. For your _honesty._"

It was the first time that I'd called him 'dad' for almost an entire conversation. Strange, considering how it seemed to be our _last _conversation. I turned away, to the side, and started walking…

Cameron was too close; when he reached out, his hand actually touched me. It caught my shoulder. "Natalie-" he growled.

I didn't think. I didn't breathe or pause or hesitate or consider or anything. To be honest, I _couldn't _think. Because it wasn't my father's hand that I felt on my shoulder at that time; it was an enemy's hand. And the only enemy I had was Fraye. And there was so much fear instilled inside of me from her, from Loki, from all the time that he had spent with her, that in that second, I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't pause, couldn't hesitate, couldn't consider anything. Instead, I just unleashed myself.

But what made that second so powerful, so devastating to my very core, was that in that second, I recognized that I was not unleashing the monster within. There _was _no monster 'within'. I had been fooling myself all along, pretending that there was. Pretending that I could even hide myself behind a shell of a good person. But the monster was everywhere. The monster was me, and it had a name, and that name was Natalie, Natalie Frost, and it was all I had ever been.

I whirled on him, my hand wrapping around his wrist, pulling him towards me, throwing him off balance. My other hand whirled around, and my palm heel went straight towards him with blinding speed. I barely managed to recognize that it was my father- not Fraye- in my hands, and managed to pull back. But only slightly; the blow struck him in the chest, hard enough to send him back a step when I released his hand.

He stumbled, almost falling, almost regaining his balance… and then fell completely to the ground. I looked down at him coldly, with dead eyes. It might have been an accident, I might not have known that it was him in that split-second… but nothing in the world could make this unleashed monster regret what it had just done. I was not sorry. I was, in fact, disgusted by just how _weak _this man, whom I'd looked up to for my whole life, who had defined my every action, truly was.

"_Cameron!" _My mother exclaimed, dropping down beside him, immediately falling to take care of him. Loki, on the other hand, was immediately beside me, pulling me away gently. Coaxing me away from the scene. With careful hands on my shoulders, he turned me to face him, looking me up and down searchingly. I looked blankly back at him.

For a long moment, our eyes were locked. His thoughts brushed up beside mine, our emotions synchronizing as he tried to determine the best course of action. Then, he sighed heavily, dropping his arms to his sides. "Go," he whispered. A dismissal. Giving me his permission. As though I needed it.

I didn't even blink. Shuffling out in silence, bleeding pure apathy, I walked out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the Tower entirely.

* * *

How many times had Tony Stark, genius billionaire playboy philanthropist, offered me a drink that I had refused? How many times had he tried to stuff alcohol down my throat, claiming that I had not lived because I refused to drink anything for the rest of my life? How many times had I lied to them about the reason, first blaming my age, then, when it became legal, just saying that I simply didn't _want _to? How many times had I hidden the fact that I hated alcohol with a terrible passion? How many times had I hidden the real reason?

How many times had April snuck out of her house to come to mine, after one of her mother's little drinking fits, just to hang out there, because she didn't like what her mother became whenever she drank? Even if Mrs. Blackthorn didn't have a 'problem', per se, how many times had April and I sworn together that we didn't want to become that, and so determined that we never would? That we wouldn't _touch _the stuff, because what if we became addicted, what if our addiction was worse, what if the things we said were _worse? _What if we could not _stop? _What if the alcohol showed the world what I really was inside?

So why was I here, in a _bar, _of all freaking places in the universe?

Maybe it was like Loki said: _"She's breaking all of her rules."_

It was the only explanation that he had given to the Avengers concerning my whereabouts. Once I'd made certain of that, I had tuned him out in my head, throwing up walls. Not blocking him out, but not particularly letting either of us _listen, _either. I'd ordered a fruity, fancy-pants drink, the name of which I allowed myself to forget, because I didn't care. I just knew that I probably couldn't handle much stronger, given the fact that I'd never drunk anything in my entire life.

It took me a while to down that first glass. It didn't take so long to down the next. Or the next. It wasn't early in the day, not anymore, but it wasn't late at night, either, so the bartender wasn't worried that I wasn't going to leave, that I'd drink myself to death, or that I'd stumble out of here at two in the morning, shuffling like a zombie towards the brains of the living, because I would sorely need a brain of my own by the time this alcohol was done with me.

The next drink was stronger. What the hell. You don't break rules by being cautious, after all. My head started to float, my thoughts getting… swirled. My throat burned every time that I swallowed back the stuff, and that heat spread out to the rest of me, warm and drifting and odd. I had been determined not to see the attraction of the stuff. I realized too late that I really did.

Maybe rules were meant to be broken, after all…

I don't know how long I was there for before it happened; only that the sky outside was getting much darker, that the stars were peering in through the window, and the lights of the city were becoming the new sun of the night. My hand stayed on the glass, my eyes stayed on the counter, and my heart stayed in my toes.

I don't know how I recognized her, how I _knew, _beyond all reasonable doubt, that it _was _her. I didn't turn to look when I heard the door open, didn't swivel around on my bar stool to check her face. Maybe it was her walk, those silent footsteps that breezed across the ground with only the softest of noise. Maybe it was the way she sat down directly next to me. Maybe it was her voice as she ordered a vodka, maybe it was her hand as she reached forwards to take the glass. Maybe it was the alcohol, making me think crazy things that amazingly turned out to be true.

Is it strange to say that I was not scared? That there was no terror in me, that I was more exasperated than anything else? That I wasn't even angry or upset, just… _annoyed? _Is it strange to say that I felt nothing, that I didn't… _care?_

Because I didn't. Not in the slightest.

Fraye threw back a great deal of her vodka. She didn't turn to face me. I returned the favor. "You know, you're not the first species in the universe to think of using chemical substances to escape your reality. But I think your planet has the most." She set the glass down. Ice clinked against polished glass, and glass _thunk_ed quietly against wood. "Humans are odd creatures, I'll give you that much."

"You never wanted to escape anything?" I asked in turn, my voice surprisingly hoarse. My tongue didn't seem to want to obey me, so my words blurred together as they came out, my voice slurring. My lips felt numb.

"Perhaps I did." She said slowly, swirling the clear liquid about in the glass. "Perhaps I still do. But I couldn't, not back then."

"Back then?"

"Back when I was alive."

I looked to her then, a slow movement of my head turning me to face her. She glanced to me, a cool, even, steady gaze. Her face was still full of expression and life, but her eyes were, as usual, dead as doornails. Empty. Everything inside of Fraye had been poured out and burned, and now we were left with this shell of a person, a mocking imitation of life. She was a puppet, a wooden doll, pulled along by the strings of her shadows. Her shadows commanded that they be released, and she obeyed, for what was there to stop her? No heart lay inside of her, no soul weighed her down and held her back. She was a creature driven by her power and darkness. What else could she be, if she had broken a connection as deep as the one I shared with Loki?

Of course she wasn't 'alive' now. How could anyone live past that?

I nodded slowly and turned back to my own drink. It was getting dangerously low. "And why couldn't you, back then?"

She shrugged carelessly; I saw the movement in the corner of my eye, the ripple of black fabric. I heard its quiet rustle against her bone-white skin. "Even if there was a substance strong enough… Well, you'll find out for yourself soon enough. It's not a pleasant experience for your 'other half'."

I tried to think about that. To think about how this would affect Loki. I imagined that it _wouldn't _be pleasant for him, to have my thoughts convoluted and meshed and off-balance, while his were crystal clear. But, to be honest, I didn't want to think about Loki. That would be unselfish of me, that would be kind, that would be good, to think about someone else before myself. I wanted to be selfish. I wanted to do what _I _wanted to do for once in my damn life. I wanted to worry about _me _instead of everyone else, to be frightened for _my _life instead of my world's.

And why the hell shouldn't I? If I was a monster, then it didn't matter, anyway. If I was a monster, then I shouldn't have to care about anyone. What had this planet done for me, anyway? What had _humanity _done for _me? _What had my _father _ever done for _me?_

Fraye giggled very quietly. "Aw, Natalie," she said in a girlish voice. Reacting to my thoughts. "Are you really giving me the go-ahead to wipe this place out?" Excited. Joyous.

"Thinking about it," I grumbled, throwing back the last of my drink and waving the bartender down for another. She squealed with laughter for a moment… and for some reason, the sound seemed wrong. It was very her, it was so exact to _Fraye _that it wasn't even a question. That was the laugh that she'd had when she had tortured Loki, that was the laugh she'd had when she attacked the Avengers, the laugh she'd had when she burned my mother's workplace to the ground. But right now, for the first time, it truly seemed false. It had never seemed like a lie before; but now, I could hear it, so hollow and untrue, such a sad little deception, this lie of a laugh and laugh of a lie…

The two of us fell silent for a while. Enemies, sharing a drink together. Mortal foes with one thing in common; just as it had been for me in the old days, with Loki and I, and now just as it seemed it would always be. I would always have something in common with my worst foes.

Monsters always did.

I sighed deeply. I didn't want to think of it right now. I was done. I was too tired of it, I was too exhausted, I was _done _with pain and anger, done with self-pity and self-loathing… and yet it was all I could seem to do…

"I'm tired, Natalie."

The words were filled with emotion, despite her dead eyes. I looked to her, and she slumped over on the counter, lying her head down on her folded arms. "I'm just so tired," her voice sounded genuine. But with her, you could never tell.

Still. It was unlikely that she was being honest. She hardly ever was, after all.

Nonetheless, I decided to humor her. I turned to her, took a quick sip of my drink, and asked, "Tired of what?"

She turned those dead eyes to me; my alcohol-addled brain somehow dragged up an image of her child form, drudging it out of all the other images I had of her. Her innocent face, the childish eyes of such a cruel mind… and for just a second- just _one- _I found myself pitying Fraye. I found my hand reaching forwards to comfort her. I found my heart reaching out to her.

But then I remembered what I was. And that all vanished in a heartbeat.

"This," She answered quietly. "All of it. Every last second of it." Her hand came up to her chest, over her heart, and she curled it into a loose fist, gripping part of her shirt. Her face twisted, as though in pain. "I don't get it. I've told it to stop. I've told my heart to stop a thousand times over and it _won't, _it just… _won't."_

I snorted. "Give me time. I'm sure I can find a lot of people in this universe who can remedy that situation. They'll smile while they do it, too."

"You think so?" Her voice was tiny and soft and broken. "Is that what you really think, Nat'lee?" She laughed quietly, shaking her head. "Because I've been trying for thousands of years, and I haven't found one yet." She turned to her vodka and drained what was left in one gulp, until only the ice was left. It clinked against the glass again.

Maybe if I hadn't been where I was right now. Maybe if I wasn't drunk, if I hadn't had that fight with my father, if I wasn't feeling so self-destructive, if I wasn't feeling like a monster… maybe I would have been happy to hear this. Maybe I would have been interested. Maybe I would have been picking apart her every word and figuring out what it all meant. Maybe the shrink in me would have been dancing around like a lunatic.

But, instead, I didn't care.

"Is that it?" I demanded of her, turning around on my stool. A trace of blurred anger managed to creep into my numb voice. "You're suicidal? Well get the hell in line, sweetheart, cause half the team's got a death wish. Half the damn _planet _has one. You're not new. You're not special. And you're not excused from what you do because you're _in pain._" I looked back to my drink, losing myself inside of the bronze liquid, the glistening droplets of condensation draining down the sides. "The rest of us aren't," I added, moving the glass from hand to hand slowly. "So why should _you _be?"

Fraye looked at me, her head tilting to the side. I ignored her, leaning my head on one hand, trying to stop the numbness that was still creeping in behind my eyes by pressing my palm heel against my temple.

"I'm so sick of you," I went on after a moment. I looked to her, finding her eyes, twin black holes that devoured all light around them. "I'm so _sick_ of you. With your little games and your little girly laugh, and what you've done and what you're doing and I just… I'm _sick _of it! What do you want, Fraye, do you want my pity? Of course not! You said that I'm not the first to try and figure you out, not the first who was curious, not the first who wanted to help you… well, obviously, you didn't _want _help! If you didn't want it from them, then you don't want it from _me!_ All you want is to torment me, to make me think that I might have a chance of saving you, well it _worked _ok? I don't want you dead! Are you happy? I wanna beat the crap outta you, but what the hell, I wouldn't kill you, even if I could! You've broken me, all right, so do me a favor and just pester someone else for once!"

I slammed my head onto the counter for effect and left it there. It was too heavy to keep up on my neck, anyway; because someone had been stuffing boulders into my feather-light skull for the past few hours. I groaned quietly.

I felt a small hand on my shoulder; bony and cold, it was a touch I most absolutely recognized. The touch that had beaten Loki. The touch that had carved those symbols into his skin, marked him with her name, branded him forever… Residual fear made me want to flinch away from that touch. Not-so-residual alcohol ensured that I could've cared less.

"Don't you get it yet, Natalie?" Fraye asked, her words surprisingly gentle. "It's not about trying to die. It's not about you. It's not even about Loki. It's about blood, Natalie Frost. Their blood all over me." She closed her eyes. "Do you know what the stench of Fear is? That rank, vile _reek _of Death? Do you know what it is to breathe in the ashes of that which was once alive and flourishing, to feel the cinders of entire planets under your feet? Do you know what it is, to have the people you love and care about and would do anything for just ripped right out of your head? To experience their death? To feel their heart, always shadowing yours, just suddenly stop? Do you know what it is to run while everything burns, to feel the flames on your skin and know that there is _nothing _you can do to escape it, that there is no way for you to die? Do you know what that emptiness is? Do you know what it is to burn and burn and burn, the heart and center of a white inferno, breathing in the charred scent of your home and everything you love… and never die?"

I looked up at her. I think there should have been tears in my eyes. There weren't.

She laughed a little, this quiet, mocking laugh, this little girly squeal of such unparalleled joy. "I do. And do you know the best part of it, Natalie, do you know what is really, truly _amazing _about it?" Another giggle. "I _love _it. I love it so much. I love the scent of death, I love the feel of blood all over my hands, I love to hear everyone screaming. Because everything I loved burned to a crisp as I felt every second of it, over and over again, and if I had to feel it, Natalie, if it had to happen to _me, _then why shouldn't the whole universe feel it? Why shouldn't the entire galaxy smell the stench of blood?" She ran her fingers through my hair, looking down at me in much the way a parent would to their little lost child. Consoling. Comforting. Wise.

"And those that survive, if any…" she purred slowly, still running gentle, pale, ice-cold fingers through my brown hair. Tucking it behind my ear. "Then they will see it. They will see what it means to burn. What it means to love the blood, to love the death, to love the chaos. It's beautiful, Natalie. It is so beautiful." She smiled a crooked smile, laughed a crooked laugh, and watched me with dead eyes.

"And maybe, _maybe _one day… I'll get to do what all of those others do. Maybe one day, I'll get to die. But until then, I'll listen to the Song of Chaos, the Melody of Ruin." She chuckled and ruffled my hair, setting a few bills on the counter as she turned away from me, pretending to pack up her small black handbag. I don't know why she paid. Maybe she didn't want to make a scene. Who really cared? She shouldered her bag and turned back to me.

"I chose my name well, don't you think?" She gave another squeaky laugh. "It's odd to me, that you feel you must have two names… but I think mine fits very well." She smiled with every last one of her white teeth, which seemed somehow… sharper, than usual. It may have been the alcohol. It may have been the die-hard truth. "_Burns._" She reminded me. That blissful smile made her face so bright and beautiful and so terribly hideous all at once. "Fraye Burns. Because I always burn, Natalie." Her head lowered, but her gaze remained on me, so that she was looking up at me, a death stare. "And so I will burn _everything._"

And without another word, she was gone.

I watched her leave without comment. It was only after she had left the room, and there had been sufficient time for her to walk away and/or shadow-vanish completely, that I allowed myself to question in a grumble about how many more psychotic aliens I would have to endure before I gave up on it all. Turning back to the bartender, I flagged him down and ordered another drink.

* * *

Since my dramatic exit from the Tower, Loki had refused to say a word about my whereabouts, save for that one line: "She's breaking all of her rules."

The Avengers, naturally, had started out suspicious. Particularly Tony and Clint, but the others had their reservations, too. But after they learned about what happened between me and my father, most of them cooled down and backed off, despite Clint's blustering threats that if anything happened, Loki was getting his ass tossed into the darkest hole he could find. Loki hadn't bothered to reply.

He had, however, placed himself as strategically as possible; with the collected works of Shakespeare in hand, he sat down in the living room where Bruce, Steve, Thor and Tony were all congregated. It was the most occupied room in the Tower, and thus the perfect place for them to keep an eye on him. Though he was no longer required to do this, he found that it put the Avengers more at ease when they could keep him

within their line of sight.

He'd started the evening perfectly civilly, his eyes scanning the pages, taking in the words… but, over time, it became harder and harder for him to think. His thoughts grew clouded, a steady aching starting up in the base of his skull. The whispers in the back of his mind, the place where _my _mind resided, steadily became numb and vague. With half of his brain put completely out of commission by my drinking, he found it nigh impossible to keep reading, and was thus forced to snap his book closed.

The Avengers noticed the lapse in concentration, but instead of explaining it, Loki merely closed his eyes and forced himself to focus. He was forced to tune me out as completely as possible- which was the main reason why he did not notice and/or react to Fraye- as he tried to bring his thoughts together, to separate them from mine. It helped; for perhaps five minutes, he was not in pain. But then the headache returned with a vengeance.

He hissed in a breath through his teeth as his head throbbed; he felt the Avengers stares on him once again, but paid them no heed. While a problem, they were currently not the most pressing one.

_Pressing. _That was a good term for it. He felt as though his skull was being crushed in a vise, his brain squeezed through a toothpaste tube. We hadn't really known about this unfortunate side effect to drinking while linked; there hadn't exactly been an opportunity to find out. There were few chances to get drunk in a prison cell, for one, and I, of course, had never touched the stuff a day in my life. This was something he had not anticipated. The books he'd read on the subject, the tomes he'd studied in order to master this form of magic… well, they sometimes glossed over some of the 'minor' details.

He pressed his fingers to his forehead, as though hoping that his ice-cold fingertips may do something to quell the fire-hot pain that was lancing through him. It was almost like a death in and of itself; as though my thoughts were so numbed and swirled that I wasn't here, that I was gone, dead and buried… and yet, the painful emotions remained, my grief and hate remaining behind to plague him. The back of his throat felt dry, his insides hollow. It was never like this when I slept, when I dreamed; he was almost amazed to see that it was this way when I was _drunk. _He'd thought that the two states might be similar. Apparently, he'd been wrong.

An abrupt weight on his knee made his eyes flicker open, made his heart skip, made him jump… the weight remained, heavy and warm… Loki glanced to the problem and saw Jekyll looking back up at him, his eyes almost sad as he sighed through his long nose. His head rested on Loki's knee, a prompt for attention and a comforting gesture, all in one.

Loki blinked at the creature, surprisingly grateful for the distraction from the thick wall of pain in the back of his mind. He was surprised that Jekyll was even paying attention to him at all, really; since his first encounter with the animal, Jekyll had seemed oddly… standoffish towards Loki. Particularly when I was around; he would push himself between Loki and I, would walk directly up to me without even looking at him, would occasionally even growl at the Trickster…

But Loki had a theory to explain the animal's actions (for he had a theory on everything). He suspected that, in his own way, Jekyll was jealous of the attention I gave Loki. Jealous of the way that Loki seemed so prevalent in my life. He must have sensed that something was different between us, that we had a connection that most humans did not… and, if Loki ignored the idea of dogs 'sensing' things that people couldn't, then surely he'd be confused by the smell of things. For example: Loki had moved into my old room. It was a place that must still smell like me, and yet Loki had taken over. And of course, the more time we spent around each other… well, Jekyll would know.

And, as far as Jekyll was concerned, I was _his _Natalie, not Loki's. It must have frustrated him.

Loki did not smile at the canine, but he did reach out and stroke back the fur on the top of his head. The feeling of soft fuzz between his fingers was oddly… relaxing. He carefully scratched the animal behind the ears, and Jekyll immediately appeared to be in seventh heaven. Whenever I was not around, he tended to be friendlier to Loki; which did seem to confirm his theory.

As Loki set his hand back on the armrest, Jekyll placed a cold, wet nose against it, pushing it off of the armrest and burrowing beneath it so that it rested on his head instead. Loki fought the urge to roll his eyes and gave up, giving Jekyll the attention he craved, steadily stroking his head as he stared off into space, trying to ignore the throbbing at the base of his skull. Ugh, everything _ached. _

Jekyll eventually jumped up onto the couch next to Loki-which amused those Avengers that were present- and settled down with his nose beneath his fluffy tail. Loki continued to stroke him absentmindedly; for some reason, it partly alleviated the dull pain, despite doing nothing for his pride. Still, he was not going to complain; anything to be rid of this intense, still-building pressure.

Perhaps worse than that, however, was the pure _intent _behind each and every swig of alcohol that I downed. I was destroying myself-destroying _him- _from the inside out, and I didn't _care. _I was drowning myself in bronze liquid, burying myself in amber, trying to swallow my own thoughts back beneath gulp upon gulp, swig upon swig, until there was nothing left but me and the emptiness of the burning alcohol…

As time wore on, Loki grew more and more irritated, his anger adding itself to my own self-hatred… his eyes grew dark and brooding. If he had been quiet, uncooperative and moody before, it was nothing compared to now. His hand continued to run along Jekyll's uninjured side, but it was an empty gesture. There was no thought behind it, only mere reflex.

It was almost midnight when I finally stumbled home.

Though Clint had occasionally come into this room to make certain that Loki was still here, he had eventually left to keep watch on other things. Good thing, too, considering what happened; had he been in there at the time, I don't think he would have let Loki live.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I swayed drunkenly into the room; Loki had barely even blinked when I had entered the Tower, had not told the others that I had arrived… everyone jumped, or looked to me, or both, as I staggered inside the living room, leaning against the doorframe for support.

"Oh, hey, guys," I slurred. "What are you doing here?" I stumbled a step and righted myself quickly. "Shouldn't you be with my parents or something? Protecting my dad from the big bad monster?" I grinned wolfishly, a sneering, mocking look on my supposedly-innocent face.

"Natalie?" Banner was on his feet and over to me in seconds; the others were slowly rising, following after him. Even Jekyll bounced off the couch to greet me, his tail wagging so hard that his butt, and the lower half of his body, went with it.

Loki did not move.

"Where were you?" Banner continued. "What happened?"

I rolled my red-rimmed eyes. I hadn't cried yet, so my eyes shouldn't have stung so badly, shouldn't have hurt, shouldn't have been red. They were anyway; the white bloodshot around my brown irises. "Well, frankly, Bruce-Man, I was out deciding that I don't give a shit." I giggled, a hebephrenic sound, and it twisted my gut, made me clutch it tightly. The back of my throat was oddly parched; I found myself wanting another drink.

Tony caught on first, smelling the booze on my breath, hearing the slur in my words. "Are you…" His eyes popped. "Are you _drunk?_"

"Friggin' wasted," I confirmed in a hoarse voice. "Does it matter?" I tried to make my way over to the chair; but it was a lot further away than I thought it was, and I ended up sitting down on thin air. Thor caught me before I could fall, his large hands gripping me by the arms and holding me upright. I threw him off quickly. "We're all dead anyway. What the hell, right?" I peered at them all blearily, pointing a drifting finger at Tony. My tone implying that I was imparting great wisdom, I told him, "And all you can do… all you can _ever _do… is make sure that Fraye doesn't change you before you go. Make sure that you don't change, that you don't become the bad guy, that you die as yourself." I hiccup-laughed, and it hurt me, hurt my chest and stomach and my pounding head. "Guess I screwed that one up pretty decently, huh?" I laughed again. "Oh, _wait,_" I bubbled, with all of the sweet, girlish-voiced glee of an anime character, at contrast with the words I was saying. "No. No, I _didn't. _Because I _will _die as myself now. I'll die as the damn monster that I am."

The others were exchanging worried looks. "Natalie…" Bruce said slowly. Consolingly. His hand rested on my arm for a brief second, but I threw it off violently. His touch irritated my skin; a clean hand against a muddied arm, my skin diseased, infected. His touch made me feel as though I would contaminate him. The very air I breathed polluted the room.

"You know we don't believe that," Bruce said, not seeming too hurt by my action, instead lowering his hands. He still kept them out, kept them pleading, open… but he did not try to touch me again. "You know we don't think that you're a bad person. None of us do."

I laughed bitterly. "Frankly? I don't give a crap what _you_ think, Brucey. My father's what matters. He's all that ever mattered." I slouched against the wall, grateful that my depth perception hadn't thrown me off so badly that I missed this as well. "He's defined me since day one."

These were bitter truths that came from me, hated facts that burned my throat worse than the dehydrated sting of alcohol. Worse than the lingering scent of cigarette smoke that had clouded the entire bar and now clung to me, drying out my mouth and burning a hole in the back of my nose and throat.

"No one defines you but _you,_" Tony insisted. I didn't want to hear it.

"Everyone has a past, _Stark,_" I rasped, my throat still burning. "Everyone is _made up _of their past. My father is my past. He-"

That was when I was cut off.

I hadn't even really been paying attention to Loki. I hadn't been ignoring him, but I hadn't really been listening in, either. So I hadn't noticed him standing from his seat. I hadn't seen him crossing the room, hadn't felt his footsteps as he made his way over to me. By the time I caught sight of him, it was too late to react; even if I hadn't been as drunk as I was.

So I only noticed him about a nanosecond before he slapped me across the face.

It was a very well planned blow; his hand open, not closed in a fist. The sound it made-that unmistakable, ringing sound of skin smacking against skin- was probably a lot worse than it actually felt. Though it definitely, absolutely stung, I knew immediately that this was not a blow against me; it was more of a strike against my pride-my dignity- than an intent to do any actual, lasting damage.

That didn't stop the Avengers from freaking out, though.

"The hell-?!" Tony exclaimed as Steve immediately lurched forwards, gripping Loki's arms and pulling them behind his back, wrestling him away from me. Loki was anything but compliant, struggling like mad in the Soldier's grasp, snarling out accusations at me.

"You _dare?"_ He demanded of me, a question and yet not the _full_ question. I stared at him, in total shock. My face stung, began to throb. In my drunken state, I was certain that I already had red marks of his handprint across my cheek, though if I were sober, I would have easily been able to tell that it was not a hard enough blow for that.

"You _dare?" _He repeated, writhing in Steve's grip, trying to get to me. "You _dare_ to show your face in this state? You _dare _allow yourself to become this _weak?_" Thor was already helping Steve, gripping his brother's arms as Loki managed to slip out of Steve's, squirming away, as slippery as an eel. His voice was serpentine and poisonous as he continued to shout at me.

"You are a _monster, _are you not?" He said the word as though it were something to be proud of, something I was supposed to achieve. "Are you not?" He prodded again. I think Thor tried to cover his mouth; I know that Tony was shouting for him to shut up. But I wasn't paying attention to the Avengers; their words did not pierce the haze that hovered around my head. Loki's did. And he managed to keep talking as I blinked a few times, trying to recover. If my head was clear, I might have been able to do so a lot faster. As it was, I just stared. Like an idiot.

Loki met my eyes, seeming to search them for a second as he half-hunched over, his face moving closer to the ground as the Avengers tried to force him away, to his knees, to the floor, anywhere that would get him to shut up. He looked as though he found what he was looking for inside of my eyes, because he laughed once. "No," he sneered. "No, obviously you're not. Obviously, I overestimated you. Obviously, you truly _are _this _weak._"

For some reason, the word 'weak' stung. Like a second slap to the face, right on the same place where his first had landed, making it twitch and throb and hurt. I flinched.

He laughed, somehow managing to escape from Thor's arms and evade Steve's attempt to regain his grip on the Trickster. Banner was not involved in the skirmish, but rather standing beside me, arms crossed over his chest, his feet planted protectively.

"You're _pathetic, _Frost," Loki's venomous words continued. They twisted around in the air and burrowed deep into my brain, cutting and slicing as they went. They hurt. Why did they _hurt? _Why _this bad?_

"You are utterly _pathetic! _How can you _possibly _be so _useless, _so _childish, _as to allow the words of one man, _one man, _to _cripple _you?"

"He's my father," I found myself blurting out, the rationalization spilling from me. Why did I feel the need to justify myself against this? Why did I feel as though I had to prove him wrong? And for the love of all that was sane, why did his words _hurt_ so much?

If I'd thought that _my_ words would have any effect, I was wrong. Loki just barked out a laugh; a single laugh, pitiless and fierce. His thoughts were currently half-blocked from mine, so I could not see the full extent of his disappointed hatred of me, but that laugh was enough to paint the picture for me perfectly.

"That is _feeble, _Frost," He growled. Why hadn't the Avengers managed to shut him up yet? Why was he fighting so hard to say this to me? Why was I listening? "He is still only _one man._ Do not excuse your weakness, do not hide behind your family ties! The fact remains that you have allowed yourself to be _broken _by _his words._ You are _weak _and _frail _and you are going to get us all _killed _because of _your __**failures!**_ _Me! You! _Your _planet! _The _Avengers! Asgard! Jotunheim! _All of the _nine realms, _gone, because _you _can not stand and fight Fraye, because _you _allowed her actions to _break you!_ This is the _only_ chance we have, and you are letting it slip through your fingers because you are _too __**weak **_to hold onto it!"

I don't know when the pain turned to anger. I don't know when I snapped. I only know that I ended up charging towards him, my skin glowing, soft gold light emanating from just beneath the surface.

The Avengers released Loki just as I slammed into him.

There was no shield; it didn't matter how angry I was at him, I was not terrified enough for the bubble to make an appearance. At the moment, however, that hardly mattered to me. I threw a fist towards his face, which he dodged; but the other fist soon followed. I was stumbling and dizzy and I'm sure that each blow was fairly easy to evade, but Loki did catch one or two of them nonetheless.

"_You?!" _I screamed; the word ripped out of my very core, a screech not unlike the sound of a dying eagle's. "_You're _calling _me _weak?" I shoved him backwards; he stumbled back a few steps, bringing the two of us even further away from the Avengers. They stood, watching us, staring at us, entranced by the spectacle. "_You _tried to take over a whole _planet _because of _your _'daddy issues'! Because papa didn't _love _you enough! _You _killed my best friend because you were having a _temper tantrum!" _I was trembling; I wasn't sure if that was the alcohol or my anger, but I suspect it was a mixture of both. My punches couldn't have been very strong, but Loki flinched away from them anyway. I barely noticed that he was not striking back, despite his desperate, feral struggle against the Avengers just moments earlier.

"I am _not weak!_" I screamed; _again_ with the dying-eagle screech. "I am _not frail! _And I am not _a __**child!" **_My hands gripped his collar and pulled him closer, suddenly unable to let go. I couldn't unlock my fingers from their grip, couldn't pull back to throw another punch. I could only spit the words into his face, fueled on by the reek of spirits, hopefully creeping up his nose and into that little peanut he called a brain.

"No one _else_ would have helped you!" I shouted as loud as I could with my sore throat and burning eyes and the world swaying around me. "No one _else _would have stayed with you! No one _else _would have tried to _forgive _you! No one _else _was strong enough to stay with _your _sorry ass!" I released him with a push, throwing up my hands as my fingers finally pried themselves open. "So _screw _you!" I jabbed my index finger towards his chest. "Screw you, screw Cameron's opinion, screw _weakness!" _I took a step forwards, forcing him to move back. But there was no where left to move; we'd successfully crossed over to the other end of the room, and he was now pressed against the wall with no escape, no retreat.

"I'm stronger than _you!" _I kept shouting. As though raising the volume of my voice would make my point truer. "I'm stronger than _him! _I tried to forgive you, tried to forgive him, I tried to forgive everyone and that makes me _stronger than you!" _I slammed my fists into his chest, moving closer to him, striking him with each sentence. "Stronger than _him!_" Another blow. "Stronger than _anyone!_" A final blow, fiercer. And then my forehead pressed against his chest, my eyes squeezing tightly shut as I screamed, _**"STRONGER THAN ANYONE, DAMMIT!"**_

I was panting, my breathing heavy, my throat burning worse than ever. My heart was thudding a crazy rhythm in my chest, unused to the harsh treatment it had been getting; not just with the pain, but also the alcohol, and the sudden strange fight while under the influence of said alcohol. I think I was still trembling. My hands, I know, were still clenched in fists, resting against Loki's chest as I stayed there, shaking. I still couldn't cry. I felt wounded and raw, an animal that just chewed its leg off to escape a trap, but I was still too angry for actual _tears._

Two cold fingers- the index and the middle of the right hand- found themselves just beneath my ear as I shivered where I stood. Slowly, carefully, they traced down my jaw line- leaving icy trails where they touched- and then tucked themselves underneath my chin. They lifted upright firmly, forcing my face upwards, forcing me to look up at him.

As I obeyed, I saw that Loki was smiling down at me. Of everything in the world he could do, he was freaking _smiling. _I was suddenly trapped by his green eyes, unable to look away from them, held in chains by the absolute certainty in his gaze.

His voice was just a whisper as he ordered, "And you are _never _to forget that."

My mother had a phrase: 'When the dam breaks, it's a flood.' It has never been truer for me than it was at that moment; because, just then, the floodgates opened, and the tears were pouring out of me. Absolute rivers flowed down my cheeks, and the sobs that choked their way out of my cracked throat were downright inhuman. I couldn't stop myself. I had literally no control over my body.

And that loss of control went double for when I threw my arms around Loki's waist, sobbing horribly into his shirt.

I held him close, held him tight, knowing that I'd never hugged him before, knowing that the Avengers were still watching, knowing that this was a breech in our usual protocol but not currently caring, not currently _able _to care. I was crying too hard to care. Somewhere, in the farthest corner of the darkest part of the back of my head, I sensed his awkwardness, his tension… I sensed him stiffening, uncomfortable with a mortal being so close… somewhere, I even sensed Jekyll trying to push his way between us and, finding that a failure, pawing my leg instead.

Somewhere, I knew that the Avengers were looking at us with a wide range of different emotions; from pity to compassion to absolute disgust. Loki was holding his breath, trying to figure out what to do…

Finally, he let it out in a sigh and draped one arm over my shoulders; just enough to pat my back twice. Then he dropped it back to his side. I just held him tighter; because I needed him, this anchor in sanity, this glacial heart that fought against my fiery, explosive, rash one…

After a moment, he pried me off of him. I wiped my nose with the back of my hand, feeling pathetic. Feeling just like the child he'd named me as just moments before. But if that's what I looked like, no one commented on it. I was still swaying on my feet; and it was worse now that I no longer had Loki steadying me. Carefully, he took my arm.

"Come along, Frost," he said in a sigh. He was being surprisingly gentle, for him. "You should rest."

I nodded numbly, allowing him to lead me along, feeling drained and hollow, even though I was still crying, even though the tears still wouldn't stop. His arm remained in mine, keeping me from stumbling, keeping me standing and walking long enough to get me into the elevator. The Avengers let us pass without a word, let us go into the hallway, let us go to the elevator, let Loki push the button without saying anything.

Once the elevator arrived on our floor, Loki continued to lead me onwards. He directed me towards my bedroom, and then to my bed, as I kept trying to knuckle the never-ending flow of salty tears from my eyes. I ended up stumbling just as I reached the bed, and half-fell onto the thing, my feet dangling over the edge. I was abruptly too tired to really care about that, though.

_Close enough, _I thought to myself. I hadn't meant for Loki to hear it, but maybe he did so anyway, because he didn't try and fix it. I felt him pull a blanket over my shoulders, but felt little else as, almost immediately, I sank deep into sleep.

* * *

Loki waited until I was passed out before he walked back to the living room where the four Avengers still congregated. He hadn't been entirely certain that would work. He shouldn't have doubted himself; he'd said everything precisely right. He knew how I thought. He knew what to say, how to push exactly the right buttons.

He had to admit, it was better now that I was asleep. The headache, at the very least, had diminished. My thoughts were now entirely incoherent, as opposed to skirting the borderline between lucidity and insanity.

The Avengers looked up at him as he entered the room. "She's asleep," he informed them all in a smooth, even tone. He had been rather concerned for a moment, there, that something might have gone wrong and the Avengers might have succeeded in apprehending him before his words had been spoken. Had Thor not hesitated once or twice, it might have been far more difficult to evade them. He could have simply placed the words in my mind, he supposed, but they tended to have more effect when spoken aloud.

And now the Avengers were looking at him, mostly shell-shocked. He didn't know why they were so surprised; it wasn't exactly an uncommon way of dealing with a situation.

Perhaps they did not like that he had struck me. He did not particularly like it, either. Slapping one's own face is not usually the most intelligent of behaviors; but in this instance, he had found it necessary. He clasped his hands behind his back, waiting for one of them to react, to say something.

For a long time, it seemed that they would not. That was perfectly fine by him; he did not particularly care what the Avengers thought of his actions. He saw their eyes dart away or focus on him, turn distant or zero in like lasers. It did not matter to him in either scenario.

He walked towards them, walked past them, and retrieved his book from where he had left it. Just as he was turning back, just as he was walking out of the room once more, Rogers' hand caught his upper arm, holding him firmly.

Loki halted. Steve was staring at the ground, his eyes surprisingly cold.

"Thank you," he said brusquely. "She needed an enemy. You gave it to her." His eyes turned to Loki, and his voice turned darker. "But if you ever hit her again…" he let the threat trail off; his dangerous tone more than filled in enough ideas for future pain and punishment against such a crime.

Loki only smirked. He was used to threats; _very _used to them, as it happened. "Understood," he responded, wrenching his arm out of Rogers' grip. "_Captain."_

He turned away and walked out of the room. It seemed that Steve had spoken for everyone with those words, for no one else followed him. He was left alone as he made his way to the other room; and, eventually, to the roof.

He had been wary of coming up here; particularly alone. It was too wide open a space, too filled with memories of a long-ago past that was best left forgotten; or, at the very least, forgotten by the Avengers. It would have made them too anxious, for him to be with that many memories and that much wide-open space…

Well. It may have been wide open, but where, exactly, was he supposed to go? Was he simply supposed to _fly _off of the roof?

He sighed softly to himself as he clasped his hands in front of him, draping them over the railing, staring down from the edge. He was not frightened by the death-defying drop to the ground below; in fact, it made him feel… alive. He had been locked away in the Tower for too long; and in his prison for far longer. He was tired of these cramped spaces, of walls that bound him and windows that alluded to a freedom that did not exist… he was tired of the stale air, recycled through the building's air conditioning. He was tired of staying inside. He was tired of not being able to see the sky above his head…

He looked upwards, up to that sky. I loved it up here, on this roof. It was my favorite place in the entire Tower, the place I went to think, to breathe, the place I went to when I needed to run from everything. Because, the instant I was outside, in that not-so-fresh air, standing so high up, looking up at my limitless sky and down at my towering city… it did not matter that I was only a few feet and a door away from the other Avengers. As far as I was concerned, I was alone.

And now, Loki could most certainly see the attraction. He stared at the stars, watching those silver lights in the sky… It was nothing like the skies of Asgard, with its nebulous colors, but the Midgardian sky held a… _simplistic_ beauty, nonetheless.

It was strange, to be here, to know what he knew, and yet to know that he was looking up at foreign worlds, other planets. It should not seem so monumental to him, considering that he had stood upon the surface of many worlds besides this one, considering that he was, indeed, from another planet himself… and yet, there was something strangely breathtaking in the recognition that he was staring at another system's star, another world's sun, perhaps even other planets…

He wasn't entirely sure if this was by my influence or not. He supposed it must be; after all, my favorite places among every planet I'd ever been to seemed to include the open sky. The roof of Stark Tower on Earth. The edge of the Bifrost on Asgard (despite its… past). All of these places, where I could see other universes, could see the swirling lights of other worlds…

Yes, yes it must have been my influence.

But it was nonetheless magnificent, now that he truly allowed himself to look.

"You don't really believe any of that crap, do you?"

Loki was not surprised by Stark's words. He had, in fact, heard him arrive almost five minutes ago. But he had allowed the Iron Man to speak first. It seemed only 'polite'.

"About her being 'stronger' than everyone because she 'forgave' you. Forgave everyone." Stark elaborated, walking up next to Loki. He, too, draped his arms over the edge, leaning on the railing. His manner was far more relaxed than the Trickster's, but there was a faint tension behind the casual stance. Loki was not fooled by Stark's apparent flippancy; he knew that, should the opportunity present itself, Stark could strike very quickly against any threat that Loki posed.

Loki gave the man a quick, appraising half-glance before surveying the edge of the world one more time. "Of course not." He confirmed in a soft voice.

Tony turned around, so that he could slouch against the rails, spine pressed against the metal as he faced Loki as best as was possible with such a stance. His arms folded over his chest, and his legs kicked out, one foot over the other. "But you want _her _to believe it," Stark went on.

"Aye," Loki said, still quiet. He did not look at the heartless man (he had proven for himself that this was the case, after all; there whas no heart left in the man's chest. Only a circle of light that played pretend at being alive).

"Why?" Tony asked, as open and up-front as ever. Despite how Stark and I had frequent disagreements, Loki knew that he was one of my closest friends among the Avengers; mostly due to this openness, this cavalier attitude. Stark did not know-and Loki would not tell- that I secretly envied him this casual air, this ability to look at things as though he did not care for them… but I did not envy him his arrogance. That was one thing I'd never really had a problem with (as far as I could tell) and it was not something that I wanted to assimilate by hanging around him.

"You don't believe it," Stark went on. "You think she's dead wrong."

"It does not matter what I believe," Loki said, his gaze sliding over to the other man. "It never has." His hands clasped together in front of him. "Why would it? She and I disagree on beliefs that are rooted within our very core. She believes that all creatures are equal; I do not. She believes that no creature should bow before another. Clearly, I do not." He looked away again, watching the city of mortals below. An intricate anthill; but an anthill nonetheless.

"It does not matter what I believe," he repeated, again in a soft tone. "All that matters is that _she _believes it."

"Why?" Stark prodded again. His voice held the slightest-just the _slightest- _trace of a sneer. "Don't you want her to 'see the error of her ways'? Don't you want her to believe as you do? I mean, wouldn't that make everything _easier?_"

The corner of Loki's lip twitched downwards. That was slightly more difficult to explain. He wondered why he bothered; but he nonetheless found himself answering.

"Because her beliefs are the only thing keeping her alive." Loki took a step back, so that he could see the entirety of Stark's face. Stark did not move, still leaning with his back against the railing. "Those were not her father's words today. She knew this, and she elected to ignore it; because she believed that she was defined by his opinion of her. This, of course, is utterly ludicrous: Natalie defines _herself_, as she always has. But because she believed this, she allowed herself to fall apart; as you saw. Her refusal to touch alcohol was more than distaste; it was a law unbroken, a promise she'd sworn to keep. And, of course, the way she felt following this, her self-loathing…" Loki chuckled once, a breath of a sound. "Well, as you can imagine, it was not a pleasant experience for either of us." He half-turned away, looking up to the stars, which winked at him from distances unknown.

"I may not approve of Natalie's beliefs, but they keep her focused. They keep her sane. And above all, they keep her alive." He shrugged carefully. "However unfortunate it is that I am now forced to protect this mortal from herself, it is still something that I must do."

"And that's it?" Stark asked; as Loki found his eyes gravitating towards the man once more, he was disturbed by the knowing look on Tony's face. "That's the _only _reason why you did this? The _only _reason you helped her?"

"What other reason would there be?"

Tony shrugged, an apathetic gesture from an apathetic man. "Well, it seems to me, the last time Natalie had some big crisis concerning her father, she had someone _else_ to go to. Someone _else _who helped her solve it."

Loki's eyebrows furrowed, confused. He took a step back, his head tilting ever-so-slightly to the left.

Stark explained. "When she found out what you did to her father, ages back? When she first found out everything? Someone else pulled her out of it. Someone _else _reminded her that she defined _herself; _that her father had nothing to do with it."

Loki found his mouth going strangely dry. He looked away from Stark; not a glance to the ground, not a surrender, but a subtle shift of the gaze, so that it now aimed towards the black buildings, with their little gold squares of light.

Yes. He remembered who that was. He remembered who had restored my mind to sanity (just to have him attempt to shatter it all over again). He remembered who had always been at my side, before Loki had removed her forever.

He remembered April Blackthorn.

"You can't replace her, you know," Stark said; he pushed himself off the rails, so that he lurched upright in a fluid, oddly graceful movement. There was a hostility in his eyes that Loki hadn't expected from someone so laid-back. "I don't know if you ever feel sorry for what you did to her. Frankly, I don't care. The point stands that you killed her, and you can't fix that. You can't take her place in Natalie's mind. You can't say the things that she would have said and think you got away with it." Stark laughed once; it was a bitter sound. He started towards the Tower, heading back inside, and threw the final comment over his shoulder as he went. "Maybe Nat's right. Maybe she's the strong one, to forgive you. But April was a good kid that you got killed in your stupid, pathetic dream." He made it to the door and turned back just long enough to say one last thing. "And _I'm _not strong enough to forget that."

The sound of the door slamming shut rang through the air. Loki watched Stark go with a mixture of intense apathy, mild curiosity, and vague irritation. He had no intention of 'replacing' April. He knew full well what he had done to me by killing her. And even if I may have let it go, the lingering pain in the back of my heart reminded him of this with every passing day.

But it seemed odd to him, that Stark would be so upset over some 'disgrace' to April's memory. The two had not known each other for long; perhaps a month or two…

Loki snorted. Then again, his brother had known his particular favorite mortal for perhaps three days before becoming infatuated with her. Oh, he had no doubt that any relation between Stark and Blackthorn had been entirely platonic; it was very clear to whom his affections were directed. And one would not refer to a person they had feelings for as 'a good _kid'._ But that did not mean that whatever bond of friendship that had been formed between them was meaningless, easily discarded. I had not known how often April and Tony talked; so Loki was, of course, ignorant of this fact as well. It was possible that they were closer than we'd suspected; he still had her phone number programmed into JARVIS' systems, after all…

Loki found himself sighing heavily. These people, mortals and his brother alike, could all find friendship and love so easily… he would never have suspected that Stark would have been in any way 'close' with April; for he could never have thought, could not understand that _anyone _could become close so quickly… because _he _could not do it. _He _was incapable of loving anyone, particularly in such a brief amount of time. He was a Jotun, after all; with a heart of ice, as I had so frequently noted…

He buried these thoughts as they came to him. What use were they? What use was such detailed introspection, with such erroneous conclusions? Perhaps he was a Jotun, perhaps his heart truly was made of ice, perhaps he was a monster, but at least ice was strong, at least it would not crack, so long as it did not melt…

So why did he feel so _weak? _

Because the ice was melting. Of course it was. Because it was attached to me, and I was fire; and I was making him soft. Fire and ice don't mix. Alone, they are destructive forces, capable of devouring life and sense and reason… but together, they are nothing. They only destroy each other, in the end…

He shook his head out in an attempt to clear his thoughts. This was pointless. Entirely pointless. There was no use in wishing that things were different, if there was nothing he could do to change it. He had learned this lesson many times, after all.

Loki stayed where he was for a very long time; long enough for the city's lights to become brighter and its skies to become darker, for the night to turn to pitch. It was past three in the morning when he smiled lightly to himself, turning his head down. A sly glint shone in his eye.

"I know that you are there, brother."

He heard Thor shift behind him, a slow sigh slipping from his lips as, caught, he walked forwards. Loki turned around to face him, the smirk that he always wore now making its appearance again.

"I was that obvious to you?" the Thunderer asked, looking very mildly sheepish. Loki lifted an eyebrow.

"Stealth has never been your…_strongest _attribute." He reminded his adopted brother, almost gently. But there was steel behind every word, and black ice in his gestures as he turned away again, coat flaring out behind him in the snap of wind that the movement made. "What is it that you want?"

Thor walked up beside him. His movements were almost hesitant, which was… odd. There was rarely such a thing as a tentative Thunder. "Are we so far distanced from each other that I can no longer even speak with you? That you and I can not simply… talk, as we used to?" His bright blue eyes hid a quiet pain as he looked at Loki. His voice lowered. "Are we not still… brothers?"

Imbecile.

Loki's eyes turned to Thor's, narrowing just slightly. But then they returned to the city skyline. He did not bother to answer Thor's question; it was an utterly ridiculous query.

There was hurt weighing down Thor's shoulders as he, too, turned away. "I know you worry for her." He said slowly. His tone was soft and uncertain. "And I know that you are… frightened, of what Fraye will do to you. To you both." His thick hands gripped the railing, the action showing in every one of his arm's muscles. Thor the Strong, Thor the Powerful, Thor the _Perfect. _A bitter taste flooded Loki's mouth as his jaw clenched.

"I had hoped," The Norse god of Thunder went on, "That regardless of what has been said and done… you and I could still speak when we… needed each other."

"I need no one," Loki replied, his green eyes frosting over. Icicles dripped down from every frozen word. Thor winced.

"You are afraid, Loki." As Loki opened his mouth to respond, Thor cut him off, his words growing a shade more intense. "Do not deny it! I may not know you as Natalie does, but you are still my _brother! _I still hear you waking at night, I still know of your _nightmares!_" Thor had turned to face Loki by now, and turned his brother around by his shoulders, his fingers digging into his arms tightly.

"I am _not _your _brother,_" Loki found his own voice rising. Of course it would be _Thor, _who made him forget his arctic vengeance, his patience, who made him forget that his ire was slow-moving but inescapable. Only Thor could make him forget himself, could make his temper flare so violently, so quickly. He brushed Thor's arms off of him, throwing his grip away. The words hissed out of him, deadly, vile, and cruel. _"I_ _never was."_

He had said this before; why had Thor not heard then? Why could he not understand? Why could he not get it through his thick, oversized skull? Why was he still so determined to believe that they were _family?_

Dark pleasure rang through Loki's chest as Thor took a step back, pained. A bitter smile found its way onto the Trickster's lips, curling the edges upwards. This was as they were meant to be. Jotuns and Asgardians warred with one another, despised one another. It was their rightful place in the universe.

He turned away from his so-called 'brother' once again, walking away, intending on returning inside of the Tower. And then Thor's voice sounded behind him again, ringing in the starry night, clear and firm and unyielding.

"You may not be my brother, Loki," he shouted his futile words against the biting wind that had picked up just moments ago, the wind that Loki had not noticed, for he could not feel the cold… Thor's words were echoing with painful clarity as he announced, "But _I_ will always be _yours!"_

Loki's footsteps, which had been carrying him forwards, suddenly halted without his permission. His spine stiffened. All air inside of his lungs vanished, and his eyes closed.

_No. No, stop it. Stop. _

Thor was still talking. And now that Loki was no longer moving away from him, his words were not so loud, were not so desperate. But still each one cracked like a whip against the raw, open wound that resided inside of Loki's chest, pretended to beat, and called itself a 'heart'. "I will always be your brother, Loki." Though Loki could not see it, Thor's head lowered, his gaze on the ground. "I am not ashamed of you for what you are; nor for what you've done."

_Stop it. Stop it now, stop talking, stop saying those things, stop doing this._

"I am not ashamed to admit that you are my _family." _Thor continued despite Loki's silent protests. "I am… disappointed, that you would think that I could ever hate you for what you are. That you believe I could _ever _hate you. I am your _brother, _Loki, no matter what you say to the contrary."

_Stop it. Make him stop. I have to say something, anything… _

"Stop it." Loki breathed; the words slipped through his lips like a sigh, but they were so gentle and quiet that, even if Thor heard, it would have been easy for him to brush them aside.

The Thunderer did _not _stop. He went on, as though Loki had not spoken, "And I want to help you. We may not be what we once were… but can we not… _try?"_

_Please stop. _

"Stop it," Loki said, and this time the words were louder, but these ones, too, were ignored. His hands clenched in fists.

"I know that we have both wronged each other. But…" Thor hesitated. "Can I not _try _to repair what damage I have done to you?"

_Damn you. _

Loki turned to face his brother so quickly, the movement so fierce, that Thor's next words choked off and died in his throat. "What damage _you_ have done to _me?_" Loki hissed, a snake, coiled to strike. Fangs gleaming with poison, dripping black venom. "_This _is your concern? What _you _have done?"

Loki took a staggering step backwards, dark humor spilling out of his lips in the form of a half-deranged laugh. "You _can't _stop, can you? You are physically _incapable _of it." Another laugh, filled with so much pain that it must have been bleeding. "It does not matter what I do to you! No matter the things that I say, no matter the things that I do, you are always… always…" He was fighting the words; he did not want to say them, he did not want to voice them aloud. He did not want to speak this crimson truth. Too late: he already had.

"You are always _better than me!"_

There. Now it had been said. Now the words could not be taken back. They rang in the back of Thor's electric blue eyes as those same eyes widened, as shock wiped away all other emotion from his features, as a bewildered innocence crossed his face. Why was he surprised? He'd always known as such. He'd always known that Loki was his _lesser._ But perhaps he hadn't realized that Loki was aware of it himself, that Loki knew that _this _is what made Thor better then Loki. Not the throne or his bloodline: his ability to forgive, to trust, to think of others as his equals when clearly they were not.

Thor stared at his brother for a moment, still with that innocent shock. "Loki…" he said slowly, reaching out a hand to his brother. Loki pulled back and looked away, his face twisting in anger. Another acrid laugh found its way out of his mouth and into the night air.

"Do you not remember, brother, that I sent the Destroyer to kill you? That I sent it to the town and the planet that you loved?" Loki shook his head and, unable to meet Thor's gaze, turned once again to the skyline. This was such a hollow world, with its hollow people living hollow lives… how could anyone love such a city, where a person could vanish inside of it, swallowed whole by the sheer numbers of the people around you, the vibrant colors, the stinking air, and always the intense _noise; _traffic and talking and celebrations and love and pain and joy and false hopes and dreams dying inside the crushed asphalt…

"And still you…" Loki's vision was blurring. Tears were burning in the corners of his world. He hated this weakness, and he made certain that Thor could not see it, made certain that his face was turned away from his 'brother'. "You said that you were sorry, for whatever _you_ had done to wrong _me_. And then you…you offered up your _life."_ Loki tilted his head back to the moon and stars above, trying to smile, but the gesture was so twisted that it became more of a grimace. "After I tried to _kill _you, you _apologized." _

Thor said nothing -what _could_ be said?- and, after a brief pause, Loki continued.

"I told you, did I not?" Loki asked quietly. "That the throne means nothing to me? That all I have ever wanted… was to be your equal?" He continued staring up at the stars, suddenly certain that they were staring back, that the black abyss that housed every planet and sun and moon was reaching deep inside of him and pulling these secrets out. "I was a king. I was a _king, _and still… Still I was less than you." His eyes closed; would that keep the stars from ripping these secrets out from behind his ribs? Would that keep the blackness from tearing these truths out from inside of his bones?

Apparently not. "I had everything, Thor. I sat on Asgard's golden throne, I was the rightful heir, I was everything that you were not… and still you stood taller, still father approved of what _you _had done, and not what _I _had…"

And now, what words were these? The ones that lingered behind his tongue, with their cloying and sickly taste, what were they? These were not things that he had ever thought of before, and yet, he found himself saying them, found that they were beyond truth, that they were _beyond _honesty, that they were… _everything_. That they were what had defined him for so long, without him ever realizing it…

"So if I could not be you… then why could you not be me?"

He dared not look at his brother as he said this out loud, as he realized what he was and what he had been for a number of years, since he had fallen from the Bifrost. As he realized what his true goal had been, the goal behind the lies, the goal behind the façade of the throne, the goal behind everything…

"If_ I_ could not rise to _your_ level, how could I become your equal… unless I brought _you_ down to _mine_?"

Why did these words _hurt? _Why was he _breaking? _The ice had cracked and was now splintering, thousands of glitter-sharp shards that shattered and cut and sliced… blue and red blood on white ice and bleeding, bleeding everywhere, how did the ice break, how did it melt, how did the monster become reduced to a man, how…?

And why was he laughing again? How could he laugh, when he was breaking?

No, he knew the answer to that one; he was laughing because these words were true, they were true and they were pure pain and anguish, and he could not tell truth, he could not reveal pain, and so he had to hide it, he had to pretend that it was funny, because the entire universe was so damn _funny, _playing its little jokes. And Loki Laufeyson was the biggest joke of all, the universe's cruel game…

The half-mad chuckle lingered in the air even as Loki went on, "And _nothing _I did!" His voice rose to a shout, "_Nothing _I have _ever done! Nothing _can make you break, can make you forget yourself, not even for a _second… _You are always Thor the Great, the Magnificent, the _Golden Child, _and everything that your father ever wanted! Congratulations, _**Odin**__son, _you have proved yourself the worthy son!" His voice was even louder now, and harsher, abandoning his cold control, abandoning sense and reason, allowing himself to slip into the black abyss of the stars that had been calling to him since the day he escaped it. The abyss that had called to him since he had let go, since he had allowed himself to fall from the Bifrost. "_You_ are the worthy one, because _you_ are _everything _that _I _am _not!" _

As the world became silent, as the blackness swallowed him whole, Loki found himself wondering why he had not hidden this conversation from Heimdal's sight; an errant thought, but suddenly so prevalent in his mind. Because now he realized that he _wanted _his father to hear this. He realized that he was _hoping _that Heimdal _was _watching, that he _was _hearing every last word… he _wanted _his father to know that he had figured it out, that he had puzzled the pieces together at long last… that he had realized his father's sick joke, and was Odin proud of him now, proud that Loki had finally managed to understand him, proud that he had finally discovered the full truth, proud that he had become the darkness that better contrasted Thor's brilliant light?

"I am not your brother," Loki found himself repeating in a whisper. "And you are not mine."

Another silence wrapped the two of them in silver, carrying them away on their thoughts, sending them to other times and places; happier times and places, perhaps, as their minds wandered, as they thought of all that could be said, of anything that could follow such bloodied, crimson-and-sapphire-soaked truths. There could be nothing, naturally.

But, of course, Thor did as he had always done; what Loki could not. He found words in this blackness.

"I could have killed you."

Loki turned to face Thor at last, his mild, watered-down curiosity getting the better of him. But now Thor was looking the other way, his hands once again on the metal railing, his blue eyes on New York, watching the city from above, as he had watched this planet for so many years. As they _both_ had, for so long…

"When you threatened Jane. When you called her 'that woman', when you said that…" Thor swallowed; Loki could see the action in his throat, could see the repulsed shiver that ran through him, could see the tightening of his hands on the railing. He did not finish, and Loki did not need him to; he recalled his own words quite clearly. "I could have killed you, brother," Thor repeated in the barest breath of sound. "I knew that I could have. I… I nearly _did_."

Silence.

But it seemed that Thor was not finished with his convoluted confessions, so far from the conversation… He went on, "And when Natalie…" Thor swallowed convulsively. "When she fought you… when she defeated you…" His eyes closed and tightened, as though the words were painful for him to admit, as though they were blades coming up through his throat. "There was a time when I thought that she would kill you. When I wondered if… _perhaps… _it would be better if she _did." _He did not open his eyes, but Loki could see the faintest shine of moisture in their corners.

Another, shorter silence, then, horrified, Thor went on, "You have always been my _brother. _I… how could I _ever _have thought…?"

Again, he choked, could not finish his sentence. It took him a long moment and a few slow, deep breaths before he could even speak at all. "I may not be like you in blood. And I may not have done the things that you have. But I declared a war that I could not have won. I started a battle with Jotunheim. I slaughtered the Frost Giants as though they were nothing, as if they did not matter." He turned at last to Loki, his eyes still watery, clouded, stormy. "They may not have been of Asgard, but they were _people, _Loki. People with families and lives and hearts that could stop, and thus could break." He looked down again. His voice was even quieter as he said, "The blood on my hands may not be red, but it is blood nonetheless."

Loki's mouth was suddenly dry. His hands were shaking and, despite everything, despite what he was, he felt… cold. A frozen sweat was beading on the back of his neck, his forehead, and down his backbone.

"And you… you tried to stop me." Thor smiled very lightly, very sadly. "Do you remember that? Do you remember the days before all of this death?" Loki swallowed, and Thor continued, "You tried to stop me from declaring war. Tried to save me from my own rash actions." His words grew softer again, quiet things that seemed as though they could blow away on the ever-increasing winds… "I had always believed… even if I were to inherit the throne… that you would always be by my side. That you would…. Help me. That you would give reason to my decisions when I could not, that you would stop me when I went too far, as you always have."

Loki couldn't tear his gaze away from Thor's broken face, from his cracked eyes. This was not true. This was wrong. Thor was a fool; he did not think, did not rely on anyone but himself. He did not realize what his friends would do for him, did not realize the leadership he possessed, the natural air that surrounded him, that made everyone want to serve him. He thought that his accomplishments were his own. Thor was oblivious to outside help, oblivious to the deeds of those who did everything to assist him… Oblivious to the deeds that _Loki_ had done to assist him, over and over again…

"And now that you are not there… now that all of this has happened, now that I am sentenced to ruling alone, chained to the throne without you by my side… I do not know what to do."

What were these words coming from Thor's mouth? Were they lies? Were they truths, as bitter and bloodied as the ones that Loki had been forced to utter? Could Thor truly need him? Did Loki truly care?

No. No, he did not care, for he was heartless, merciless. There was ice in his veins, his blue blood frozen, his nerves frosted over. He was a Jotun and he was a monster and he did not care, he did not care if Thor needed him…

But I was a monster, too. A monster of fire and a monster of ice, bound and gagged together, keeping each other silent, reducing each other into nothingness. The ice forced fire to remain calm, and the fire forced the ice to feel, and now he felt everything, felt as though he was hearing the most impossible, most perfect of truths, and all he wanted to do was agree, all he wanted to do was stay beside Thor and help him become the greatest of Kings…

Loki blinked, forcing the treacherous thoughts away, burying them deep in the arctic soil, concealing them beneath the permafrost.

"Did you know that Father has offered the throne to me again?" Thor asked, and now he laughed, a quiet sound, pained. "He has been offering to make me King, Loki. He has been planning my coronation. But every time, I refuse. I know that it is pointless to wait, I know that it is futile to believe that you will return, that you will be there to help me, that you can even be free of your prison to do so… but I can not help but believe it nonetheless."

Loki stared at his adopted sibling. It had been too many years since his previous, disastrous 'coronation', and Loki had wondered when he would become king, had wondered how long his father had intended to drag out his final years as the ruler of Asgard… But he had not suspected, for even a _second, _that it was _Thor's _doing that kept him off of the throne, that kept the crown off of his head…

"Do you want to know that I am broken?" Thor asked slowly. "It is already true, already before your eyes. Do you wish to see that I am weak? You see it with every day that passes, with every day that I came to see you inside of your cell, and knew that I had put you there, knew what had been done, knew what had passed between us. Do you want to believe that I am afraid? I am terrified. I fear for my life just as you do, I fear what this creature shall do, and I, too, have nightmares." Thor advanced a few steps, and Loki's feet remained planted, rooted where they were, turned to stone and immobile, immovable. Thor was still speaking, "To be afraid, to feel weakness, to feel brokenness… that is not what separates men from monsters, Loki. It never has been."

His hand rested on Loki's shoulder. And as much as the touch burned, as much as venom began to scorch out the inside of his chest, to rise into his mouth, the Trickster found that he could not throw it aside.

"So if you want to know that you are my equal?" Thor said quietly, trying to meet Loki's eye. But Loki could not face him any longer, for these words sounded so like truths that they burned, that they wrapped chains around him and held him in place, forced him to hear them, but they could not force him to look at his brother, could not force him to believe them, no matter how they tried…

"Then know that it was never even a question." Thor said firmly. "Not then. Not now. Not ever."

_Natalie is never going to let me forget this one._

It was strange, that this was all that Loki could seem to think. Because he could not face these words, these lies that tried to be truths and truths that danced beside lies. He could not look at them, could not hear them, did not _want _to hear them.

"Because, no matter what you are, and no matter what you have done… I am your _brother."_ Thor's grip on Loki's shoulder tightened, and if Loki was mortal it would surely have bruised. And suddenly he had pulled Loki closer, and his arms were around Loki's shoulders, and he was holding him close, he was embracing him as though they were family…

And Loki was _letting _him…

"And because of that… because I am your _brother_… no matter how much you hate me… you can never _stop _me from loving you."

_Why am I crying? _

Loki's arms were pinned to his sides by Thor's embrace, keeping him from wiping away the treacherous tears that trailed down his narrow cheekbones. He felt nothing. He felt nothing but the cold, and he was not hurting, not anymore. Now he was numb. He was empty and lifeless and unfeeling and so very, very cold. So why, of all things, was he crying? Why were the tears there, if he could feel nothing?

Why were his arms straining so hard to hug his brother in return?

_You are a fool, _he wanted to say. _You are an imbecile. You trust me. How can you __**trust **__me, after everything that I have done? How can you call me 'brother', how can you __**hug **__me, how can you wish anything but death upon me? I hate you. I hate everything about you. _

And then something else entered his mind, something that I frequently said, something that I fervently believed, as I believed everything so fervently: _The opposite of love is not hatred. It is indifference. _

_I hate you so much… _Loki's thoughts gathered themselves together. _That I just might love you. _

_ Damn you. _

As Thor released him, Loki turned aside, moving with quick strides, hiding away the tears, hiding away the weakness. Lies. Every last word was a lie. It had to be a lie, because lies were all that Loki could speak, and all that he could hear, and all that could be told to him.

He did not bother to say another word. What was the point in wasting his words? They would no longer be heard. Thor was a fool who still believed in the brother he thought that he had. Nothing more.

And just like that… Loki walked off of the roof, back into the Tower. His eyes remained blank and hollow as he strode to the elevator. His features remained empty as he took the short trip downwards inside of the metal container, his metal shell. He did not react as the doors _ding_ed open, did not react to the sight of Clint, who was camping out in the hallway between our two doors, keeping an eye out for any suspicious activity. He did not say a word as Barton stirred in his sleep, woke, and shot death glares towards him. He only walked to his room, typed in the pass code, and went inside.

Only when he was in the sanctuary of his room, with its four walls that hid him away and its light fixture that banished the darkness. Only when he had shielded himself from Heimdal's and JARVIS' piercing gazes. Only when he had checked my mind to be absolutely and utterly certain that I was asleep.

Only then did he allow himself to sit down, bury his face in his hands, and silently weep.

* * *

**A/N: … Yep.**

** Anyway, like I said, this chapter had a lot of hiccups. A double apology for how long it took, and hopefully the next one will be up soon. **

** Please Review! For the Brothers! **


	12. All My Monsters Singing

**A/N: So… this officially reached one hundred reviews as of last chapter. :D Which means that you are all officially the greatest people ever. Thank you so very, very much. **

The morning following my big, alcohol-induced freak-out, I was awake for maybe ten seconds before I tore towards the bathroom and puked into the toilet.

Feeling like absolute crap, I crouched over the toilet bowl and groaned loudly. And that was where I remained for a very long time; how long, I'm not sure. But my head was pounding, and a searing agony lanced behind my eyes, a drill putting holes through my suddenly-fragile skull. My stomach twisted and roiled, and I felt shaky, cold, and frail.

Loki woke a short while after I did, but he was the first one able to pull himself together enough to seem semi-presentable to the rest of the world. As he headed out of his room, he hesitated in front of the bathroom where I was puking my guts out. Peering inside, he said, with much muted exasperation, "This is ridiculous, Frost."

"Oh, shaddup." I grumbled, clutching the porcelain with shaky hands, as though my very life depended on it. Loki crossed the room, over to where I crouched, and looked me over without saying a word; or doing anything to help or hinder me. Groaning quietly, I fell back against the wall that was right next to the toilet, feeling ill and gross. I pushed my hair back behind my ears for the bajillionth time, keeping it out of my eyes so that I could study him without interference. His face was pale, with a sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. Dark circles shadowed his green eyes, though whether it was from lack of sleep or the hangover that was now plaguing us both, I wasn't sure.

"You ok?" I asked. Loki gave me a pained half-smile; the very fact that I was asking about _his _health while currently dealing with my own issues was enough to prove to him that I was back to normal. "Fraye said that this wouldn't be a 'pleasant experience'." I tried to do finger quotes, by my arms felt weak and rubbery.

"It is not," He affirmed, pressing his fingertips to his forehead, trying to quell the headache that I could feel pounding behind both of our eyes. "But perhaps this is better than last night."

I scanned his memories half-heartedly, getting through perhaps half of them before I found myself crouched in front of the toilet bowl again, my stomach heaving violently, my insides thrashing about. I coughed and spat into the bowl before falling back again, draping a hand over my forehead, and cursing vehemently.

"I hate alcohol," I announced in a moan, leaning my head back and closing my eyes. The bright florescent lights made my eyes and head hurt all the worse, but I didn't think I had the strength to stand and turn them off. Loki saw me gauging the distance and, as he was still standing, he flicked the light switch down for me, plunging me into sweet semi-darkness.

I finished my scan of his memories as I sat there, trying to pull myself together. Yes, this definitely _was _better for him now than it had been yesterday. I might have been in pain, and he might have _shared _that, but at least my thoughts weren't… numb. Gone. Empty. There was no word to really describe it.

Still searching, I found a wall; something he didn't want me to see. Usually, I skipped past these things. He often had memories he did not want me to know about; at the very least, not immediately. We knew it was pointless to try and keep it hidden forever, but I typically tried to give him his privacy, as best I could. But this wall was different. It was weak, wavering, on the fragile precipice of shattering. This was something that he was torn on, something he wasn't sure if he wanted me to see or not.

I lifted an eyebrow as I looked to him; the movement made my head pound even worse. How was that freaking _possible? _How could this _get _any _worse?_

Loki looked away. The wall's trembling grew more pronounced. I heard a thought buzz through his mind; something about how it would be the only good thing of that conversation, if it stopped me from irritating him, from pestering him…

_And it is not as though Thor will not tell her. _

That one was crystal clear. The other eyebrow joined the first, and my head clashed out a symphonic orchestra of drumming pain. I shivered on the tile, getting woozy. But if Thor was involved in whatever memory Loki was trying to hide from me, then it was definitely something that I wanted to know about.

I didn't fight against the wall, but I did give it a gentle nudge. Neither of us really had the strength to fight each other today, but if it came to that, I'd have probably be at a sore disadvantage, given the gnarly hangover I was nursing.

Thankfully, though, that little push was enough. Loki, not looking at me, sighed deeply and allowed the wall to disintegrate. Curious, I peered in at the memory, losing myself inside it for the briefest of moments, only to return to my own sweat-slicked skin and burning insides, to my own empty bones that were barely keeping this shell of a person intact.

_Now that, _I thought to myself as I finished, _is interesting. _

Despite all the pain, a stupid little grin crossed my face. "Well how about that?" I asked with a weary laugh. "Took you two long enough."

Loki gave me his best, long-suffering look, exhausted by my enthusiasm; or what little I could muster. "This means nothing, Frost."

"It means everything and you know it, Laufeyson." I wasn't putting up with his crap. Not today. I was in too much pain to do that today.

Still, the way he winced… I pulled back a bit, dialed down on the triumph. He may have heard his brother say those things, and he may have wished them to be true with everything that he was (without realizing that this was what he wished), but right now, he could not believe Thor. Couldn't believe _in _Thor. And I understood that. I didn't _like_ it, but I understood it.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the wall once more, letting the subject drop despite how desperate I was to examine every detail of that memory, to scan it over and over again until I had every answer I could possibly leech out of it. The two of us were quiet for a while.

After a moment, however, I spoke again, changing the subject. "Thanks."

He turned to me, his jade gaze even despite how his world was just as jagged around the edges as mine was. "For what?" He inquired.

"You know what. For yesterday. For snapping me out of it." I tilted my pounding, throbbing head to the side. "Though I hardly think it was necessary for you to slap me in the face."

"No…" Loki agreed slowly. "But it was entertaining."

I tried to smile at the half-hearted attempt at a joke. I think I succeeded, but my world was rocking back and forth too badly to be sure. My stomach twisted again, and the only reason I didn't toss my cookies once again was because there were no more metaphorical 'cookies' to toss. Again, we were quiet, and I closed my eyes, leaning my head against my shoulder, letting the world drift away as I came pretty near to sleep…

"Miss Frost?"

My eyes opened, then trained on Loki. "Yeah?"

At first he was not facing me. He was looking at the cabinet beside him-I only now noticed that he had sat down across from me- but he was not seeing it. He saw nothing, his gaze too distant, lost to faraway, nonexistent worlds… but then he pulled his sight out of his inner world and into the outer one, his eyes clicking on me.

"What happened yesterday…" he said carefully, saying it just right, being certain of every syllable before he spoke. It had the effect he was looking for; without even needing him to go on, I knew that he was not speaking only of the alcohol, not speaking only of the excessive drinking that had first caused him pain and was now making us both miserable. No, he was also speaking of the dark place that I had gone to, the black corners of my heart made real, speaking of my self-loathing and utter hatred for any and all things related to Natalie Frost.

"Yeah?" I repeated, a little slower and gentler this time.

His eyes hardened. "You are _never _to do that again."

This was nothing more or less than an absolute, direct order, spoken from a king to his subject. It was a command, the strictest of decrees. The kind of thing that was punishable by death if broken. Normally, that kind of thing would piss me off, and I'd tell him exactly where he could shove his 'orders'. Then, I'd figure out the fastest way to disobey before the day was over.

Today, however, I let out a little sigh- I couldn't sigh too deeply. Couldn't do anything- and tapped two fingers to my forehead in a mock-salute. "Yessir." I said, half joking. Half not.

It was an order I could agree with. It seemed that I had not been kicking my own butt hard enough to keep me from breaking down into hysterics; might as well let Loki do it for me instead, since he seemed so eager for the job.

The Trickster seemed braced for an argument; so when I agreed, he was left floundering. I smiled lightly and took advantage of the silence to ask a question that had been nagging at the back of my mind almost all morning, keeping time with the throbbing pain in my head.

"Just making sure, but…" I looked him in the eye. "You don't believe any of that stuff you told me last night, right? About how I'm stronger than anyone because I stayed with you, tried to forgive you?"

He met my red-rimmed gaze steadily. For a moment, he seemed to gauge the question, to consider it. Not considering his answer: just considering the very fact that I had asked it in the first place. After a few seconds, he replied in a level tone, "_I _did not tell you anything, Frost. Those words were your own."

"But you think it's total BS, right?"

"Of course."

I grinned and tilted my head back again, closing my eyes once more. "Just double checking." I allowed a teasing note to slip into my crackled voice as I added, "You seemed pretty sincere last night, though."

"When one is under the influence of alcohol-particularly one with your level of intolerance- things often appear different from what they are."

I kept smiling, even though the darkness behind my eyelids was beginning to swirl. "Whatever you need to tell yourself," I quipped. He scowled- I felt the features shift on his face, even if I couldn't see the gesture- and I changed the subject quickly, abruptly. "So. Clint slept outside of our rooms, huh?"

Loki hesitated. But he kept up with my change of topic well enough. We occasionally ran through a number of things in the morning like this, anyway; this wasn't so uncommon. "I believe he's making it a permanent situation."

I sighed deeply. "You know, it might not be his fault, but that archer is becoming a real pain in my backside."

Loki didn't respond; mostly because the words 'may not be his fault' had triggered an altogether different emotion inside of me. One that was not connected to Clint, but rather, to my father.

I found myself reliving the conversation in my mind, the one that had driven me to the brink of madness, driven me to that bar… None of that had been Cameron's fault. He was being manipulated again, I'd known that, and still I let myself react to it, still I abandoned all sense of reason and turned instead to my own anger. I swallowed, and Loki looked away.

"I should apologize."

Loki's gaze flicked back to me, and I sighed, still not opening my eyes. Even the half-darkness of the bathroom was too much light for my poor, aching brain to handle. "He may have been in control of his actions, but he wasn't in control of his anger. I should have known better than to let it get to me; I mean, really, _me _of all people… _I _should know what it's like, when your anger is uncontrollable, and you'll do or say _anything…_"

Even as these words came out of me, there was tar in my stomach, my chest. Black and gooey and gross, half the product of my hangover, and half the product of my own inability to say that I was sorry for the things that my father had said. But I'd said bad things too. I'd egged him on. I'd shouted and screamed.

I could apologize for _that _part, at least…

"What good will it do?" Loki asked, studying my features, my pale skin and tangled hair and shaking hands. "Cameron is still under Fraye's influence. No matter the things that you do to repair what has happened, he will not change. Not until her influence is gone from his life."

I frowned. "So… what?" I asked, eyes flicking open at last. "You think that I should just… wait to talk to him? Wait until after we defeat Fraye?"

He didn't respond, and I took his silence to be an affirmative. I looked to the tiled floor, running my eyes along the patterned lines and squares. "You know why I can't do that," I whispered. "We're not going to defeat Fraye. I don't want to die with my dad and I still fighting."

There was silence for a long time. This time, it was Loki who changed the subject; because there was no way to resolve it. But still, he stayed mostly on topic, at least.

"Perhaps we should send your parents to Asgard today." He advised. "I'm certain that Thor will not be adverse, if you suggested it." He looked to the side again. "He has been considering it already, after all."

I thought that over. It was true, Thor _had _been thinking about sending my parents to Asgard. Keeping them off-world was probably the best way to keep them _safe_. And it would get them out of our hair, too; at least for now.

I nodded slowly, swallowing thickly against the bitter taste in the back of my throat. "All right," I agreed. "All right, sure. I'll ask him. Good plan."

"Very well." He straightened a little, then stood up off of the ground. "Shall I inform the Avengers of your… current predicament?"

"Ugh," I grunted, not sure whether it was a positive or a negative. Loki took it as a 'yes' and cut out of the room, backing out with an ease and grace that I wouldn't have thought he could manage, with my head being the way it was. I crouched over the toilet bowl again and waited to vomit.

The day was actually pretty normal, after that. I felt too sick to dissect Thor and Loki's conversation from the night before, so I pretty much kept away from it for a majority of the time. Loki didn't fare much better, even if the headache didn't originate directly from him. Thor worried for him; Loki hadn't suffered through such terrible hangovers since they were both much younger. His tolerance for alcohol was higher than mine; he was _used _to the stuff. But, as Loki eventually pointed out in a bleak, arctic tone, I was _not _used to it. And _his _tolerance did not necessarily dampen _my _pain.

Tony, on the other hand, got a kick out of the idea that Loki had a hangover. For almost the entire day, he went out of his way to make as much noise as possible around the Norse god of Mischief; until I literally begged Steve to throw him out of the window for me. Steve, unfortunately, did not comply, though he admitted to being tempted. For some reason, Stark didn't seem to want to get it into his thick skull that I heard every single one of those loud noises, too; even if it wasn't so bad through my mental hearing.

Eventually, _thankfully, _I ended up passing out again. Steve took pity on me and let me sleep through my training regiment for the day, shifting the schedule around so that I'd make up for it later. Not that I would've been much use in training, anyway. So I was allowed to sleep as late as I possibly could; and when I woke up for a second time that day, it was about seven o'clock at night.

Oh, well. Not like my sleeping cycles weren't severely messed up, anyway. And at least now I felt a lot better.

Still. Loki was going to be awake for a few more hours, though not much more-I could feel a creeping weariness beginning to settle in at the back of his thoughts, making them fuzzy and indistinct- so I couldn't do what I _wanted _to do and start probing the heck out of that conversation he'd had with his brother the night before. So instead, I went to watch the last training session of the day; a mock-battle between Steve and Natasha.

As I entered the room, I saw Thor had come to watch as well. For a brief second, I debated stepping out of the room again, in order to spare Loki's feelings, but it was too late. The Thunderer had caught sight of me, and he waved me over with a smile.

I smiled blearily back and sat down beside him, watching Natasha perform a few kick-ass ninja movies on the Captain, who barely managed to avoid being thrown to the ground in a spectacular fashion. The Captain didn't have many weaknesses, but he had a few preferred moves; and preference meant predictability, which Natasha used to her advantage.

"Are you feeling better?" Thor asked me after a moment. I nodded.

"Yeah. Passed out on the couch for a few hours; really helped things out."

He nodded slowly. "And my brother? He is… well?"

There was a hesitation in his words that immediately clued me in to what he really wanted to ask. I played along for a moment, though. "Yep. He's a bit tired, though."

Thor nodded again, his eyes returning to the Captain and Natasha, making note of her swift kick, his immediate retaliation, their synchronized, graceful battle. I could see Thor's fingers flexing, clenching and unclenching on his seat, which he sat on the edge of, his eyes clearly showing his inner debate. I found myself smiling almost patronizingly; Loki was right about one thing. When it came to lying and deception, Thor was- to put it nicely- a complete amateur. To put it not-so-nicely, he was an utter buffoon.

But he was not the type of man who needed to resort to lying and trickery as often as Loki and I were prone to. He understood the necessity of lying in order to protect someone else, and it was for this reason that he hesitated, that he was trying to act as though nothing was wrong, as though nothing had occurred between himself and Loki the night before. But he wasn't very good at it, the poor thing.

"Did he…?" Thor cleared his throat and tried again. "Is there anything else that he… that I should know?" He pieced the sentences together with choppy unreliability, his words failing him. I grinned softly and decided to take pity on him.

"You mean: did he say anything to me about last night?" I said, scooting a little closer to him, keeping my words friendly. Gratitude made the worry melt from his eyes and off of his shoulders, a sigh allowing the weight on his chest to escape.

"He told you," Thor said; not exactly a question, but more of a fact that he wanted to run by me for confirmation.

I nodded. "Every last word." I nudged him with my elbow. "You did good, big guy."

He gave me a weak smile and looked back to where Natasha was now evading a blow from the Captain's shield. "When he left," Thor informed me, "I thought, perhaps, that he was… angry with me."

"Oh, he was pissed." I confirmed flippantly. Thor looked at me, and I half-grinned. "But, you know. He'll get over it." I placed my hand on Thor's wrist, catching his gaze and holding it there firmly, so that there could be no denial of my next words, no doubt that this was what I believed. "And he'll be a lot better for it. You did the right thing, Thor. Don't ever think you didn't."

He smiled. It was an oddly rueful gesture. "I know that it was right. I know that it was what needed to be said." He sighed deeply and shook his head, his blonde hair somehow remaining perfectly in place. "I only wish that it felt as such. That he did not hate me so much for loving him."

"Yeah, well, he's a stubborn bitch." I rolled my eyes. "With the emotional self-indulgence of a teenage girl. Trust me, _I _would know."

Thor barked out a guilty laugh. "Were you anyone else, Natalie Frost," He told me, "I would be insulted for my brother's pride."

I laughed, too. Because the things I said, however true, didn't usually hold any kind of hostile weight. It was just how I normally behaved. "Were I anyone else, you'd have to be."

He grinned softly, and, after a moment of quiet chuckles, we fell into a comfortable silence. I watched the two Avengers below without really seeing them. They had stopped sparring by now, and Natasha was showing Steve one of the moves that she'd pulled on him, showing him how to avoid it, to keep it from happening to him again.

"He pretends he has it under control," I spoke up after a moment; Thor glanced to me, indicating that he was listening, and did not say a word. "He pretends that he's… distanced. That nothing hurts him, that he has no weakness, that he does not… _feel _things. And he's pretended this for so long that he's starting to believe it himself." I sighed heavily, curling in on myself; it felt oddly natural, when Thor put his arm over my shoulders, and I propped myself up against him. But then, in so many ways, he was _my_ brother, too.

"He's got a heart of ice, Thor," I said, and even I was surprised by how weary the words sounded. "It won't break or crack. It just freezes. Becomes harder and harder, impenetrable, untouchable. And then he pretends that makes him strong, pretends that it doesn't hurt to have ice shards driving themselves in your innards all the time. His emotions are so tightly under control, boiling under the ice, and he thinks that if he lets them go, he'll lose himself to the pain that he's tried so hard to bury."

I could feel Thor's eyes on me as I stared off into space. Loki was just one of a million problems on my mind right now, but I'd be lying if I said he wasn't one of the biggest. My priorities were kinda skewed, but that didn't matter so much to me.

"The problem with ice, Thor?" I said, looking up to him. His blue gaze was positively electric as he looked back down at me, as he studied me. "It preserves everything. Locks you in one state, and traps you there. He's not destroying the pain, or getting rid of it. He's just making sure that it'll stay with him forever."

I sighed deeply, a gesture that Thor repeated a moment later. The two of us were quiet again, watching Steve trying (and failing) to do the move that Natasha had shown him. But then I shook my head out, laughing quietly.

"Ah, whatever," I said amicably. "I should know better than to think too much; nothing good ever comes outta me getting philosophical. Or poetic, for that matter." I gave him a quick grin, which he returned as an automatic reflex. "He'll get better eventually. We just have to give him time."

Thor nodded slowly. Neither of us said what we were both thinking:

Time wasn't exactly on our side anymore.

* * *

We didn't get to move my parents to Asgard that day; but Thor promised that they'd be able to go first thing tomorrow morning.

This left me with a lot of time to try and find hiding places within the Tower. Areas where they-hopefully- wouldn't come and find me.

The trick to these hiding places was to hide in plain sight. My father didn't exactly _want _to talk to me; so as long as it was immediately obvious, even before they entered the room, where I was, then they could back away and act as though they never saw me. And I could do the same.

Eventually, I ended up taking shelter in my usual refuge: the roof. I'd pulled up a chair and a few books and was wasting time by ignoring the rest of the world. The closest I'd gotten to giving an apology all day was when I entered the room, looked my dad in the eye, and said, "I overreacted. I'm sorry."

But I cut out of the room again before he could reply; mostly because the vein in his forehead had already started throbbing, and he was already opening his mouth to shout.

My mother had tried to apologize for my father's behavior; and to berate me for mine. I listened to neither lecture; my father was not himself, and I was pushed to my brink. We had our problems, and as much as I loved my mother, this really wasn't her fight.

I felt awful that she had to get involved, though. It was murder, being torn between two people that you loved while they were fighting. I knew that from experience.

But, after all of that, I retreated to the roof and, so far, it seemed to be working out for me.

I should've known it was too good to last. That my sanctuary would become my enclosure.

I noticed him a little while before he decided to talk to me. I'd been getting surprisingly good at noticing when other people were there, even when they didn't want me to. And the fact that I had noticed a _spy _when he didn't want me to said a lot. Then again, he wasn't trying his hardest, I'm sure; he was used to me being blind, ignorant little human Frost. All skills I had apparently came from the man pulling my strings.

I swallowed hard as Clint pulled up a chair and sat down next to me. He didn't say a word for a moment, and I reached down and took a swig from the water bottle that I'd placed beside me. I screwed the cap back on and set it down again before speaking. My voice was quiet, but sure. "I miss you, Clint."

He glanced over to me, sighed deeply, and seemed to deflate a little as he turned away again. "Yeah. I miss you too, Natalie."

I couldn't bring myself to smile, no matter how ironic and rueful it might have been. "You think we'll ever be friends again?" I asked, because what was the point in mincing words? I was talking to a spy. He was used to being blunt. He probably even _preferred_ it.

"We were ever friends to begin with?" He didn't waste words, either, didn't bother to hide them behind prettier, softer ones. "For all I know, you were his from the beginning. Everything you've ever said… those could all be _his_ words."

Would it have hurt less if it wasn't true? Or would it have hurt worse? "I know."

There was no point in denying it. Clint was right. That _could _all be true. Even if it wasn't, it _could _be.

There was a pause in the conversation. I took another sip of water. Clint slung his bow off of his shoulder and set it on the ground beside him.

"I saw Fraye yesterday."

I looked to him. Should I have been shocked? I dunno, I was mildly startled. I'd thought that the others would freak out and report _every little thing _that Fraye did if she ever visited them one-on-one. But then again, if she was popping by _me_ to try and freak me out, why wouldn't she do the same to the others?

So I didn't miss a beat. My tone still flat and even, I asked, "What did she say?"

Maybe this would be seen as confirmation. If Fraye was just another puppet in Loki's game, then of course I wouldn't be surprised that she had visited Clint. I would have already known about it, would have already heard the order direct from Loki. But if this is what Clint was thinking, it's not what he said.

"The usual," Clint answered, picking up a stone from the ground and running his fingers over it. It was a bumpy, grainy-looking thing; a leftover hunk of concrete from who-knew-where. "Begged me to help her. Said that I was the only one who wanted to. That she was scared."

I turned away from him, nodding slowly; though that was a very different 'usual' from mine. A breath of a sigh slipped out of my nose, making a strand of hair that I hadn't even realized was out of place move up and into my vision. I tucked it aside, pushed it behind my ear.

"I believe her, Natalie." He tossed the rock a few inches in the air, straight up to the sky.

"I know you do, Clint." The rock fell back into his palm.

"Do you know why?"

"Of course I do."

Because of course I did. I had known for a very long time now. Because Loki couldn't keep secrets from me; even secrets that were not his to begin with.

"He made me do things I would never have done. He made me tell him things I thought I could never tell." Clint tossed the rock again. Again, it fell right back down into his palm, as though they were magnetically attracted. "He made me tell him everything. Even…" He stopped talking, and his throw went off just a little; the rock spun at a weird, wobbly angle for just a heartbeat, then landed on his hand again. It hadn't gone very far into the air this time.

I blinked, my face still expressionless. I didn't look to him, but rather sighed deeply and looked at the ground, with its light dusting of gravel. "Even everything about Natasha," I concluded for him. "Everything that she had done. Everything about how you felt about her." I wanted to roll my eyes. As if that wasn't obvious. As if the only people blind to their relationship weren't Clint and Natasha themselves.

But still. A person has a right to hide that away. They might be stupid to do it, but they shouldn't be forced to talk about it. I'd gotten mad at Loki for this, too, but, to him, it had mostly been a test of loyalty more than anything else. And, anyway, among spies… love was for children.

Clint didn't seem altogether upset that I knew. Maybe because he'd already known. Maybe because he'd already made his peace with it. He tossed the rock again; he wasn't even looking at it, was doing all of this with an unconscious ease. "If he can do that to me, Natalie… then why couldn't he do it to you?"

Because it was more complicated than that. Because our link did weird things to our brains. Because I was helping him willingly, anyway. Because none of this would have made sense to you, Clint, because he didn't _need _to brainwash me, because he wasn't _trying _to take over the world, because if he was really, _truly _working with Fraye, then he wouldn't even need me or the Avengers. Earth would be his already. But these were things that I could not say to Clint, things that he would not believe. And so I said nothing at all, because if I could not tell the truth, then why would I lie?

He seemed to be waiting for a response. When I gave none, he sighed again and threw the rock all the way across the roof, sent it skittering to the edge, where it stopped without falling. It balanced on the brink, not quite tipping over, not quite intending to.

There was another lengthy pause. There was no longer any stone to distract us, so we simply stared into space, lost in thought.

Finally, I swallowed and asked, "So what did you do?"

He turned to look at me, his eyes on me, and meeting mine when I turned to face him. "When you saw Fraye. What did you do?"

His eyes flicked away; not out of shame or embarrassment, but just because he was thinking. And then he stood, picking his bow off the ground, throwing it over his shoulder once again. "I shot her," he answered easily, lifting his quiver. "It didn't take, obviously. She got away." For the first time, my face showed emotion: one of my eyebrows pulled up, skeptic and surprised. Clint shrugged. "The Avengers are still my team. They might be dead wrong about you, and one day they'll realize that, but they made a choice. And we're all on the same side."

"Doesn't sound like the Barton I know," I pointed out. "Going along with something because everyone else believes it."

He snorted, putting his quiver on his shoulder next to his bow. He leaned down so that he was at eye level with me again, half-crouching. "Well, apparently, you don't know me as well as you like to think, Loki."

And with that, he turned on his heel and walked away.

I didn't try to stop him, nor to correct him. I merely sighed deeply, and tried to go back to my book. When it became apparent that this was an impossible task, I tried instead to at least pretend to read; but that soon proved just as unattainable a goal. My hands felt heavy under the weight of the book, and so they fell limply into my lap, my eyes hollow as I stared at nothing.

A few minutes later, a shadow draped across me; not a living one, nor one intent on my demise. The shadow of a friend, who walked beside me and sat down in what was formerly Clint's chair.

Loki did not speak as he lowered himself into the seat. He didn't offer condolences or expect me to talk about it, or really, anything at all. He didn't say that Barton was a fool, for what he believed, didn't tell me that everything would be all right. He didn't put a hand on my shoulder, or try to hold my hand or comfort me at all. That wasn't Loki's style.

Instead, he just sat there. And together, we watched the sun bleed red into the building-lined, jagged horizon, before slipping down and succumbing to the darkness.

* * *

A number of uninteresting days later, and Tony groaned theatrically, entering the room with me beside him. He rolled his head around his neck; there was a small white towel wrapped around his neck, resting on his shoulders. As per usual with a majority of Tony's entrances, this one got a few eyes to look his way; some furtive glances, some longer stares, and a raised eyebrow or two.

He gripped the back of a chair with both hands and leaned his weight on it. "Damn, Frost," he said, a little breathlessly. His grey T-shirt was covered in sweat from his neck down to the little blue circle on his chest. "I knew my tech was good," he panted. "But I didn't think it was _that _good."

Loki's lip twitched upwards as he looked back to his book. The others still looked confused for a moment; until I rolled my eyes and shot back, "Oh, get a grip, Tone. Your _tech _had nothing to do with it. You're just mad that a girl managed to knock you flat on your as-" I stopped myself as I realized that Steve was in the room and corrected swiftly, "Backside."

Immediate understanding passed through the room, earning us a few good-natured chuckles and even a smile from Soldier Boy. Tony and I had just finished our training session for the day; and I'm pretty sure it's clear who the winner was.

Stark slugged me in the arm as I rubbed my own white towel across my face. I felt sweaty, tired and gross, but alive. I didn't know why, but our training matches tended to do that to me. As the Asgardians would say: 'The battle sang in my blood'. I felt _good _whenever I was fighting.

Stark pointed an accusatory finger at Loki, who didn't even look up; merely turned his page with a disinterested flourish. "I still say you helped her in there."

"Of course not." A flat tone, accompanied by another flick of the page. Loki didn't tend to actually 'read' when there were others speaking to-or around- him; instead scanning lines at random, before going back to them later. It helped him to keep an eye on everything when people thought that his attention was otherwise occupied.

Despite everything, and despite how Clint was now glowering at Stark's still-accusing finger, a majority of the room took the exchange between the two quite well. I guess that's the thing about Tony; he might not be as friendly as I am, but you don't question it when he suddenly decides to act like he is. Mostly because, if you spend enough time around him, you get used to those kind of weird mood swings. And yes, he was _definitely _being friendly, and it was most _definitely _weird.

"That reminds me," Steve piped up, moving out of the room. He came back a moment later with a piece of paper in hand. "The new training schedules. I was going to post it on the fridge, but…" He handed it over to Stark, who was the only one who had been reaching out his hand. Natasha now looked up with mild interest, as did Thor; Banner wasn't in the room. In fact, it was rare that we got this many Avengers in one place at any given time; perhaps that was why Steve wanted to show the new schedule now.

Stark placed the paper on the coffee table in the center of the room, and the others gathered loosely around it, most out of pure boredom. Tony hunched over it for a moment, then grinned wickedly.

"Looks like I'll be able to get you back for it this Tuesday, Blitzen," he called to Loki, who had not stood, but was turning the pages back in an attempt to find his original spot. I'd already decided to look at the schedule, anyway; what was the point in _him _doing so as well?

"Looking forward to it," Loki returned with a droning ease. A little smile found itself on my face as Natasha moved away from the paper, and I stepped up. As my eyes ran over the times, weekdays, and names, the smile disappeared. I bit my lip, fighting a grimace.

"Um, Stevey?" I spoke up. "A word?"

He seemed to be expecting as much; his eyes were on me, and he was already standing at a bit of a distance away from the others. As the Avengers exchanged trash talk and spoke of who was going to thrash whom, Steve and I moved to the side of the room, where I lowered my voice to a whisper. I admit, it came out in more of a hiss than I intended for it to.

"Thor and Loki?" I demanded. "You really think it's _wise _to put those two in a sparring match together? _Alone?_"

Steve met my gaze-and my mild irritation- with a steady look. His feet planted themselves in the rug. He wasn't going to budge on this one. "I know why you're worried, Natalie. Let's face it, I'm worried too. But the fact of the matter stands that Loki's going to have to fight side by side with Thor one way or another. They have to be certain that they'll have each other's backs. Training is the only way I can think of to make sure of that."

My frown deepened, a worried line creasing my forehead as I stopped biting my lip and started actually _chewing _it. "I get that," I said after a moment. Loki, though he was most definitely listening in, had not commented on our little conversation. He was, in fact, keeping himself as emotionally removed from it as possible.

"I _totally _get that," I re-emphasized. "But there's a difference between depending on each other in a life-or-death situation on the field, and a sparring match in a safe, secluded environment. And there's a _huge _difference between fighting _together_, and fighting _each other._"

"You and Tony were just fighting each other. Obviously, you had him at a point where you could deliver a death strike. He fights with you like this because he trusts you not to do that. He trusts you with his _life_." Steve's words were calm, collected, and filled with a pesky little thing that the world has dubbed 'logic'. I freaking _hate _logic.

"The Tin Can had his shot ages ago," I said, waving an irritated hand, as though his words were a fly that I could simply shoo away. "And we've _always _been on the same side. There's a difference, and you know it."

"I also know that the world is under threat of a shadow-controlling sadist with an insane streak." Steve's eyes held mine firmly, a piercing gaze. "Thor has to know that Loki will be able to stop himself from seriously hurting him if the opportunity presents itself."

I made my gaze just as rock-steady and unyielding as his. "That's the thing, Steve," I said firmly. My eyes flicked to Loki-still sitting and reading- and back. "What if he _can't?_"

I think Loki flinched. He hid it very well; it was such a subtle thing that I wasn't even certain that _I _caught it. And I caught almost every single one of his gestures. But his eyes still walked along the path of text inside of his book, and when Tony burst into laughter after Natasha's latest mocking threat, he gave them his usual _foolish-mortals _glare, suggesting that he didn't care about the rest of his surroundings-or my conversation with Steve- in the slightest. But I knew he did. Even if he wasn't sure that he cared about what happened to Thor, I knew, beyond a doubt, that he did.

"Then the team falls apart," the Captain didn't hesitate with this answer. "And we all die."

I winced; I didn't hide it as well as Loki had. I turned away, my eyes on the ground. Absently, I wiped some of the remaining sweat off of the back of my neck, and the two of us fell silent for a second, contemplating that future.

Then Steve sighed. In a softer tone, his voice lowering, he said, "Look. I wouldn't do this if I wasn't _certain _that it was worth the risk. And, as of late… that risk has gone down considerably."

I looked to him, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Steve gave me a look. "Don't tell me you haven't seen it, Natalie. I won't believe you." His eyes traveled to where Thor was laughing boisterously, boasting of a battle he'd fought in ages long past. It was a story that I'd heard many times, and Loki had heard even more frequently.

"They've been doing better, haven't they?" Steve said, watching me out of the corner of his eye as I found myself enraptured by the scene before me. The Avengers were all so close together, undeterred by the usual bubbles of personal space. Most of them were laughing, and every one of them was at least smiling. Even Clint, who had been staring daggers at everyone for the past few minutes, had joined in the jumbled, tangled knot of friends. His hand was resting lightly on Natasha's shoulder. Her hand was gently pushing Tony back, a gesture against an outrageous lie he'd obviously just told. Tony's face was a little red, and Thor was pulling him into a hug that was more like a headlock, laughing aloud.

"Loki hasn't been glaring so often when Thor is nearby," Steve was going on, "They move more easily around each other. Loki doesn't leave the room when he finds himself alone with his brother. I swear they even had a civil conversation the other day."

The picture before my eyes was so perfect, I thought I might cry. Such a flawless snapshot of the life of friends, companions, _amigos, _so beautiful and blissful that it seemed to actually radiate light. A real Kodak moment, where you literally wished that you had a camera to document it forever, to tuck it away behind a glass-and-mahogany frame…

And there, just along the edges of that frame, the green, black and gold figure of Loki, pretending to ignore them and pretending to be ignored. Alone, distanced away from the others.

So close that he could touch them. So far away that they might as well have been worlds apart.

I blinked as Steve kept talking. He, too, was worlds apart from what I was thinking. "I think he can do this," he concluded. "And if he can't… then you'd better tell me now." His eyes went hard again, little shards of ice. As though Steve knew _anything _about _that _kind of ice. As though his soft, gentle, incredible heart could ever know anything that dark, could ever be frozen over.

"Because we can't have anyone on our team that we don't trust."

An evil sentence tried to force its way out of my throat as I turned away from that picturesque scene. '_Clint's still here, isn't he?'_

Fortunately, I managed to swallow that. Not so fortunately, something else took its place.

"Then why am _I _still here?"

Even as I allowed the words to be said, I regretted them. Steve looked genuinely shocked as he looked to me, his eyes getting a little wider, his jaw going slack. His immediate reaction was to lean forwards, to carefully rest his hand on my arm, to console me; because neither of us had realized just how much _ouch _was packed into that sentence before it was said out loud.

But suddenly, no amount of regret could stop me from going on. "Don't tell me _you _haven't seen it," I said, and my words were surprisingly cold. I also seemed to have switched accents with Loki; I reigned that part in before I went on, "Face it, Steve. We all work together, we trust each other as much as we can… but things haven't been the same between the Avengers and I since Loki came to Earth. And I'm as much to blame for that as everyone else; because, truth be told, I don't trust any of you as much as I should, either." I sighed quietly, shaking my head out, as though trying to dislodge the painful thought that was sticking in my brain like a thorn. "I'm always looking behind my back. Waiting for one of you to turn around and decide that you believe Fraye's story more than you believe mine."

Before Steve could say 'that won't happen', I sighed again and turned to face him completely, gently navigating him by his shoulders so that he did the same. I left my hands on his arms as I gave him an intense look. "You know that only one person has really talked to me about any of their problems since this whole mess started?" And that one person was a spy who was only saying that to get information out of _me. _I didn't mention that, though. "Even with all of this fear and anger going around… do you know that they haven't said a word? Do you realize that everyone's just… _abandoned _the idea that I'm their _shrink? _Whatever else I am- monster, puppet, hero, villain, friend or foe- I'm still your _therapist. _And S.H.I.E.L.D., no matter how severe this lockdown is, still expects reports from me. Reports that are getting harder and harder to bullshi- I mean… _fake _my way through." I released his arms and turned back to the other Avengers, tugging on my fingerless gloves, pulling them higher up my wrist, ensuring that the Key remained hidden.

"As your therapist who's being boycotted, that's a nuisance that I can live with," I said slowly. "As your friend who's being avoided… that's a heartbreak that I _can't._"

The two of us fell silent for a moment. Thor, Natasha, Clint and Tony seemed to have found a slightly more serious topic to discuss, for their tones were no longer quite so rambunctious. Loki contemplated saying something to me, but decided against it and tried to immerse himself in his book instead. In moments, he was able to forget about the world around him, becoming blind to its faults and failings.

Right now, I really wished that I could escape like that.

"When people are at their strongest, they are weak. When people are at their weakest, they are strong."

I looked back to Steve again, turning my head without really turning the rest of my body. It was almost a quote, the type of words spoken by an old wartime soldier that you would meet in a bar. You would have a few drinks with him, and he would recollect the old days with you, and you would not listen until you had enough drinks to see those explosions before your own eyes. You wouldn't hear a word he said, until you were intoxicated enough feel the flames on your back, hear the shouting of those who were charging towards their own deaths, feel the bravery of your fellow man in between the beats behind your ribcage.

"We're all scared, Natalie," he went on. "I mean, I can't be certain about everyone else, but I've been having nightmares that would terrify the hell out of anybody, and I don't care _who_ they are. Fraye… there's a darkness inside of her that no one is used to seeing; on _this_ world, or _any_ others." He paused for just a second. "Right now, we're all weak."

And then his words clicked, the pieces slotting into place on a jigsaw, the clockwork cogs finding their partners and beginning their dance, turning around and around, the seconds ticking away in time to their movements. "And when people are at their weakest, they are strong," I filled in, speaking in what was almost a whisper, almost a rasp. "Because the greatest of weakness is the hardest to show. And so they hide it. They hide it because to show it would be cowardly, and they are beyond brave."

I turned my gaze to him; my head turning on my neck though the rest of my body did not follow, turning to the side so that I could study his profile, until he turned to look back. "But you see, Steve," I said without emotion, and now no longer censoring my words. "That's bullshit." I looked back to the Avengers again. "When people act 'strong' by hiding what they really feel, that isn't _brave. _A _brave _man _admits _what he feels. Because if you hide it, _that's _when you make it a weakness. Because if it was so important that you had to keep it secret, so important that you had to hide it away, then why shouldn't it be important enough to use against you?" I laughed then, bitterly, and was surprised by it. "And if that's the Avengers' excuse- if they think that they're being _'strong'- _then they're full of it."

Steve didn't say anything for a moment. He didn't seem offended by the words, as I thought he might be. He actually seemed to be seriously considering them. And, after a moment, he had a response.

"You wanna know what else the Avengers are?" He asked me. I looked to him out of the corner of my eye and lifted an eyebrow. "Human," he finished. "Just like me, just like you."

_You're not human, Steve, _I thought. _And neither is Thor. _

But I didn't bother to voice it. It seemed irrelevant to his point.

"Think about it," he said, and his words were surprisingly light, easy. There was no anger, despite how I'd just called his teammates idiots and, (horror of horrors) cussed in front of him. There was even a little smile on his face. "Everything you just said; you _know _that. You know it for a fact, you completely believe it." I think he was tempted to wink as he asked, "So have _you _told everyone here _every one _of _your _weaknesses?"

I blinked. Blinked again. And then my cheeks went pink. "That's not-"_ fair, half of my weaknesses aren't my own, and the other half are… complicated. _

But Steve cut me off before I could finish that sentence. "We're all human, Natalie, or close enough. And that means that we're not perfect. So we might be prone to a little emotional idiocy once in a while."

_Did he just out-shrink me? _

This time, he actually _did _wink. "I'm sure you can forgive that. That's what friends are for, right? To be there for you when you do stupid things?"

_He just freaking out-shrinked me!_

First Natasha, now Steve. My therapist pride had been taking a major beating the past few weeks.

"And no matter how stupid, or _stubborn-"_ he shot a meaningful glance to Clint as he said that, "We might get… we're still your _friends, _Natalie." His hand found my shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. "And we'll be there for you; just like we know you're there for us."

_Y'know, this entire freaking conversation started because I didn't want Loki and Thor training alone together. Nice diversion, 'Stevey'._

Another quick shoulder-squeeze, and then he started towards the other Avengers. Walking backwards for a moment, he said, "Us stupid humans gotta stick together, right?"

And then he turned around and joined the other Avengers, who caught him up on their conversation quickly. I blinked, staring blankly after him. My second family, I love them so.

After a moment, I found myself shuffling numbly over to the one person that I could safely say that I _had _shown all of my weaknesses to. I almost fell down on the couch next to him, pulling him out of his book, and he looked at me as, groaning quietly, I turned my head to him and rested my forehead against his arm, burying my face there.

_You know what? _I told him, switching to my mental voice as he looked at me, giving me his typical Loki-look. The one with the bemused eyebrow rising and the strange half-smirk on his face. _You're right, _I said._ You're absolutely right. Humans are freaking nuts._

And you know, as the Avengers talked and smiled together as the greatest of friends, with Loki and I sitting by ourselves to the side, sitting right by the frame of their picture-perfect moment… Loki actually laughed.

* * *

Just because we wanted Thor and Loki to train alone together, didn't mean that anyone actually trusted them to do so.

On the day in question, almost every one of the Avengers was there to watch. Or, in Steve's case, to 'supervise'. The brothers were used to having people watching them train, used to putting on a show; that was the way it was in Asgard, after all. So they didn't have much of a problem with it.

I, on the other hand, was wound tighter than a snare drum. Loki and Thor and deadly weapons all in the same room was not a good mix, allies or no. I sat on the edge of my seat, steadily gnawing on my fingernails, working my way from pinky to thumb of first the right hand, then the left. I'd already gotten to the middle finger of the right hand by the time they actually started _training. _

My foot tapped out a very frantic beat as the two clashed on the battlefield. Though Loki and I did not merge our minds together in combat unless we were actually fighting together (whether by ourselves or with another Avenger involved), I did keep watch over his every single thought as he moved. I could give everyone maybe a nanosecond of extra time to react if this went south. Loki allowed me to do this; he was a little worried it would go south, too.

That was the problem with fighting. As fun as it was, you could get into it if you let yourself go too much. And if you got _really _into it… you could hurt someone. Particularly if that someone was the brother that you'd always secretly hated… or at the very least, envied.

Hellooo, index fingernail. Meet teeth.

To keep myself a little distracted, I used what available brain space that was _not _intently focused on the battle to survey my surroundings instead. More accurately, to pinpoint the location of the Avengers. There were a few observation platforms, some higher than others. Of course, the Hawk was perched at the highest one, watching in a crouch, bow in hand, quiver ready. Steve was beside him, tolerating this behavior for reasons unknown to me. Tony wasn't there, and neither was Bruce, but Natasha was sitting on my platform, the lowest one down, looking mildly bored. But I knew that she was still coiled tighter than I was, ready to spring should things go wrong.

As it turned out, we didn't need to worry. The brothers soon got into the flow as they always did, and the sparring match passed without a hitch. I let out a massive sigh of relief and looked to the one fingernail that I had _not _chewed ragged or bloody. I sighed quietly; I used to have manicure-perfect nails. Then I met the Avengers.

Story of my life.

The two started perfecting moves; routine drills. Easy stuff. The danger was gone, he'd passed the test, and Thor was safe for one more day.

None of us moved. Least of all me.

We watched the mind-numbing routine of Loki and Thor performing the same move over and over and over again, their bodies adapting to it, so that it became reflex, as natural as breathing. But still no one left, or even _shifted _in their seats. I was probably sweating worse than either Loki or Thor; even though they were the ones who were actually moving. Goodbye thumbnail that I had worked so hard to preserve.

It took another hour and one more quick sparring match, but finally, _finally, _it ended. A collective, silent sigh was released from those watching in the stands, though Clint almost looked disappointed. As we all came down from our respective platforms- with Clint rappelling down from the ceiling like a badass- Thor and Loki put their weapons away. Mjolnir went back in Thor's belt, and Loki's spear- which was still carrying the hated nickname 'Glow Stick of Destiny'- was waved away with the graceful carelessness that seemed typical of magic.

Natasha was out of the room in a matter of moments, leaving Steve, Clint and I with the two brothers. As usual, Thor was grinning like an idiot as he started to cross the room and make his way towards us. Unlike usual, Loki fell in step with him after only a second. It seemed an unconscious thing, which only made me feel all the more smug.

Clint and Steve gathered a little closer to the door, still watching as they waited for the adopted siblings to exit the room, while I slouched by the wall, trying to calm my still-jittery nerves. Now that the danger had passed, I was starting to manage it.

There seemed to be something in Loki's face that, perhaps, the rest of us didn't see, but Thor certainly did, for he laughed and clapped a large hand on Loki's back. "Just like old times, eh brother?"

Loki winced and rolled his shoulder, rubbing the area where Thor had struck. He gave Thor an itty bitty glare in response to the almost-injury, but turned away after a moment and considered what he had said.

Old times…

"No…" he said slowly, still thinking. Thor looked to him, hurt stabbing through those crystal-clear, rain-blue eyes of his. But before he could voice this hurt, or truly feel the full brunt of his brother's rejection, Loki's foot shot out in front of Thor, tripping him up.

Steve gasped behind me. I heard Clint whipping an arrow out of his quiver, clearly having anticipated this. Because of course Loki would strike _after _the battle, of _course _he would trick everyone. That was what he _did._

Thor tumbled to the ground and Loki danced lithely to the side, still towering above his brother, still in the perfect position to strike. Thor turned onto his back as quickly as he could, so that he could attempt to fend Loki off. Not that he could, even with the advantage of being able to see Loki, of having his hands raised to defend himself. Loki had moved quickly and unexpectedly, reducing him into this helpless state in seconds. And he could finish this off even faster, with the simple wave of the hand, the flash of a golden spear, and it would all be over…

The moment where he had his brother at the mercy of _his _deathblow. Of course it would be _after _Thor had learned to trust him again…

Still slouching against the wall, I hid a little smile. No matter how tightly I'd been wound just moments ago, no matter the fear that had pulsed through me, I was now perfectly relaxed. Unlike the three Avengers who were in the room with me.

As Thor looked to his brother, as actual _fear _flashed across his features… Loki smirked down at him.

And then he bent over at the waist, one arm behind his back, extending a hand. "_Now,_" he said in a clear voice. "It is 'just like old times'."

My grin stopped trying to hide and got a lot bigger. Thor's grin, however, surpassed even mine. White teeth gleamed in the artificial lighting, and he laughed aloud. "Aye!" He agreed with his usual Thor-ish flare, accepting the hand offered to him. Loki helped his adopted brother to his feet, and Thor laughed again. The younger sibling smiled, too, though it was that arrogant, sociopathic grin that occasionally crept into my nightmares.

"You can put the arrow away now, Clint," I said, not looking at the archer, as I walked forwards to join the two. I was giving Loki my best, biggest, and brightest _haha-I-was-right-and-you-were-not _grin.

Loki tried not to roll his eyes. His voice whispered in my head: _Oh, be silent. _

_Never. _

"Great job out there, you guys," I said, pride swelling my chest. I looked to Loki. "I knew you could do it," I added, elbowing him as I fell into step between them. It was odd; I was in between them both, but it wasn't like I was _blocking _them from each other. If anything, when I was around, they seemed… closer. Like I was the crazy glue that kept them together. Natalie Frost: weird glue girl.

Well, it wasn't my weirdest title.

"Is that why you have no fingernails left?" Loki inquired with his usual airiness, still looking down at me. It didn't help that he was a heckuva lot taller than me. "Yes, it seems perfectly logical that they fell off out of your sheer confidence."

"Bite me."

Thor was still grinning, and our little exchange only seemed to-impossibly- lighten his mood even further. He chuckled quietly. He understood, perhaps better than anyone, my weird way of showing affection, and Loki's weird way of _reacting_ to it, if not actually showing it in return.

I gave Steve and Clint a smug look as the three of us exited the room together, and then Thor broke away to do whatever it was he had intended to do. After the Thunderer, Steve, and Clint all went to their respective tasks, Loki allowed himself to relax a little, walking to an empty living room and sitting down to examine his leg, where Thor had once smacked him harder than he'd let on. He prodded it carefully and winced; that was most certainly going to bruise.

I sat down next to him. It was kind of funny. In the old days, he only allowed himself to relax, to examine wounds, to show slight injury when he was alone. Now, even with me in the room, he still counted it as being 'alone'. He didn't even say anything when I went behind him, moved his hair aside and pulled his collar down a bit to examine a would-be bruise on the back of his neck.

"Nothing broken," I pronounced cheerily. You know that feeling you get, when everything seems to be going right, and you start to kinda float? That's how I felt right then. I plopped down on the couch next to him as he gave me a long-suffering-but-still-somewhat-bemused stare.

"But training's not over yet," I reminded him, giving him a pointed stare in return. The two of us had planned to spend an hour or so on our own 'training' today; working on both our mental link and his still-prevalent fear of the dark. The long-suffering side of his own stare intensified.

"Do you truly think that is wise?" He inquired, allowing a little bit more of his exhaustion than was strictly necessary to creep into his voice. "Considering… events of late?"

I frowned. Of course, I knew what he was referring to.

We hadn't really noticed it, at first. It was such an innocent, unintentional thing; and because we always knew what the other meant when they spoke, no matter what they actually said _out loud, _we could have been doing this for years without realizing it. Kind of like how we didn't know that Loki spoke Spanish; someone _else _had to point it out to us before we could be made consciously aware of it.

For a while, the Avengers had been giving us odd looks at random times; after I'd speak, or after Loki would speak. It usually happened during training, when we were describing moves or battle tactics. And, eventually, Tony corrected us.

At the time, I'd been talking about how Loki would circle around behind a target while Stark 'distracted' it from the front. JARVIS had been ever-so-helpful in giving us a holographic enemy to fight. I'd been deep into my own planning when Stark had said, "Wait a minute. Do you mean that _Loki _would circle around and take it out from behind?"

My eyebrows had furrowed. "That's what I said."

"No. It's not. You said you would do it."

I'd looked to him in confusion, and, using finger quotes, he said in a high-pitched, terrible impression of my voice, "'I'll circle around the back and take the thing out from behind'. Those were your exact words."

This switching of pronouns wasn't exactly new to us; Loki and I had frequently interchanged our names without really noticing it, or referred to an action that one had done as though _we _were the ones who had done it. Particularly where memories were concerned; if I was reliving one of Loki's past moments, I would sometimes talk as though it was _my _memory. Because, in a way, it was. We shared pasts, we shared histories, we shared lives.

But, despite how this wasn't completely new, we hadn't realized how _common _it was until we started spending time together, in the same place, while the Avengers were present. Because they noticed. They noticed it _every time. _And every time, they would point it out to us. Even Thor, with whom I talked about Loki all the time, started to mention it; _and _he added that we'd both done it quite frequently before Loki came to Earth, too. He just hadn't pointed it out; he'd understood what we meant, so he hadn't seen the point in mentioning it to us. (This, to me, was further proof that Thor really was the most accepting of our link; and the person who understood it the best. This, and the fact that he never harbored me any ill will for the things that I said under Loki's influence; nor for any of the quirks that I shared with Loki. Though I think it was easier for him to do so; seeing as, despite Loki's past, he harbored his brother no ill will to begin with.)

But the reason that Loki was bringing up this little pronoun-switching quirk of ours right now was immediately obvious to me: because it tended to get a whole lot worse as our link grew stronger. And, since we had been working on the link, since we had been merging our minds together more frequently, it _had _been getting stronger. Exponentially so.

And the closer our minds got together, the more our thoughts intertwined… the harder it was for us to separate every little thing we did. These strange, awkward side effects of our link were only ever getting worse. And while Thor never seemed to mind, and though I couldn't really care less… it annoyed Loki. And it freaked the Avengers out big time.

"We can't let that stop us," I told the Trickster. "I don't like it, either, but…" I trailed off as he looked away, his jade eyes turning to the window and staring out of it, out to the dismal skies outside. It was another grey day. Weather I loved. Weather he hated.

He sighed very quietly, resting his elbow on the armrest and his chin on the back of his hand. I bit my lip, fighting against the sudden surge of tiredness that had taken him over. It wasn't just physical exhaustion; in fact, that was only a very, very small part of it. It was a mental, emotional weariness, one that made it immediately plain that any attempt to work on either his fears or our link would be pointless. He'd already been dealing with his emotions quite enough today.

And suddenly, I could see that. Loki wasn't used to this; he wasn't used to working with his brother, wasn't used to suppressing his jealousy, he wasn't used to having his pride damaged almost constantly, and he certainly wasn't used to _allowing_ me to pick around inside of his brain. He'd been a little more open in the past days, and, in all honesty, that amount of effort was taking more out of him than I'd realized. Even if, slowly, it _was _making him happier (something that he still wasn't seeing).

"Okay," I held up my hands in surrender. "Ok, no more training today." I dropped my hands back down. "But I don't think we should just sit here twiddling our thumbs." I thought for a moment, then smiled a little, knowing exactly how my next suggestion would go over. "How 'bout the library?"

As usual, the word perked Loki up immediately; even if there was no actual reaction on his face. Particularly because, when _I _said it, I wasn't talking about the dinky little mortal thing that Tony kept on the tenth floor.

It had taken a while for me to decide to ask Thor about Loki and I returning to Asgard in order to research Fraye's legends; that was, after all, how Loki learned about her in the first place. We wanted to make certain that there was nothing he missed.

Thor had been all for it; but he had refused to let me ask Odin about bringing Loki back into Asgard whilst he still remained 'free'.

"My father appointed you as his Keeper," Thor had reminded me. "Any decision of where my brother is and is not allowed to be- on Earth _or _Asgard- has been left entirely in your hands."

That was a statement that didn't go down well with either of us, but it was nonetheless true. So we'd been heading to the library almost every day (I still felt guilty about not asking Odin, but Frigga saw us there once and smiled, so I was pretty sure it was no big deal).

But he was always a little better in the library; for a number of reasons. First, the change in scenery; he'd been stuck in the Tower-and before that, his cell- for far too long. Second, it was a slight return to normalcy; Asgardian texts were far different from human ones. And third… the man like, lived off of books. It was incredible.

Loki looked to me for a moment, acting as though he actually needed to consider his response. After a moment, however, he nodded once. I gave him a bright smile.

"Cool," I said, standing. I glanced down at myself to double check-yep, PJs- and said, "So… we'll leave in an hour?"

It wouldn't really take me that long to get dressed, but Loki had just been training for the past few hours, and we both figured he could use a break. He nodded again, and I gave a quick, two-fingered mock-salute before skipping out of the room.

It didn't take me long to get ready, throwing on a t-shirt, sweater, and jeans. I also pulled on a pair of fingerless gloves, despite how the sweater would cover the Key for me. I didn't want to have to take off the sweater and then leave it uncovered. Especially not in Asgard; after all, unlike the Avengers, most Asgardians would know _exactly _what it was and what it meant.

Maybe I should have left it uncovered. Maybe it might reduce the number of stink eyes that we got whenever Loki and I went to Asgard. But I could handle people not liking me. And Loki _couldn't _handle one more blow to his already tattered pride.

I went to the living room and watched a mindless TV show for the next hour: two half-hour long sitcoms that reduced my brain to ooze for a little while. It gave my aching head a break from all the stress and worry that it had been through that morning. Loki came for me at the appointed time, not as patiently as usual, with Thor by his side.

I smiled a little to myself. Loki would only rarely talk to Thor, and it was even rarer that he voluntarily went into the same room as his brother. Usually, if he needed something from Thor, _I _was the one sent to retrieve him. I'd never complained about it, I liked the guy, but it was good to see Loki's hatred diminishing in these little ways. He was never going to change everything about himself all at once. It was the little things that were slowly eating away at the ice around his heart, the tiny little fractures that would one day, hopefully, bring the whole glacier crumbling down in a cascade of sparkling shards.

Thor held out the Tesseract device without a word. As usual, he'd be returning to the Tower after he dropped us off, and would come back for us in a few hours or so. You'd think that Loki would be annoyed at having to depend on Thor's word that he would be returned to the battle (particularly seeing as Thor was an Avenger, and many of his teammates would probably abandon him somewhere else on their first opportunity, now that they had practically everything they wanted from him). But Loki knew- probably better than anyone- exactly what Thor's word meant to him, and how far he'd go to keep it.

In fact, if anyone got freaked by the idea of relying on Thor to come back for us, it was _me_. Not that I didn't trust Thunder Boy. I just didn't like the idea of waiting and waiting forever if something happened to him. Waiting, I knew from experience, was the worst kind of hell.

Loki and I took our end of the Tesseract device, our hands brushing against each other as we held on. Yeesh, his hand was so _cold _all of the time…

Thor twisted his side of the device, and the world disappeared into a flash of blue.

* * *

I swear, Loki was never more alive than when he was inside of that library.

The transformation wasn't always immediate, but it would always happen within the hour. The weight of what he was would be lifted off of his shoulders, so that it was no longer a struggle for him to stand tall. His movements, impossibly, became easier, more fluid. It was as though the smell of parchment and ink in the air was like some kind of wonder drug; for just a few short, sweet hours, Loki could forget. He could forget that he was a monster. He could forget his brother, his father. He could forget the blood on his hands (which he _did _care about, no matter _what_ that stubborn little Smurf said).

He easily fell into his research, losing himself into the separate books and pages. He seemed to naturally know where everything was, where to find exactly what he was looking for, and when he didn't know, well, that made it all the more fun. Every book and every word was an intellectual challenge, and on that, Loki thrived.

But perhaps the most curious transition was the complete drop of hostilities. His cold bitterness, his harsh demeanor… it all disappeared into nothingness, banished from his mind without any conscious effort. He was too distracted by his research, thinking too hard and too fiercely to keep up his outward appearances. He barely paid attention to the world around him. And so I became just another helping hand in his endless searching, another set of eyes, another pair of hands to carry the endless stacks of thick tomes over to the table where we worked. There was no longer the disgust that a mortal was sitting beside him, no longer the constant irritation at who-and _what-_ I was, and what I had done. He started calling me 'Natalie', instead of 'Miss Frost'. He stopped calling me 'mortal'; or, when he did, there was no longer any disrespect behind the word. It was just another title in a long list of titles and it didn't matter anymore, because he was too focused for _anything _outside of what was happening inside of his mind to matter.

He even said 'please' once, to my amazement, and it wasn't in that irritating, arrogant way that suggested that you didn't have a choice one way or another. It was… incredible.

And it didn't take long for him to fall back into that pattern today. I quickly let myself get lost into the research, too; I always loved Greek mythology as a kid, and reading legends and fables from other planets (namely Jotunheim) was a lot like the same thing. Trying to isolate Fraye inside of each and every one of these legends, and sort out the truth from the fiction, however, was another thing entirely.

It was always hard to tell what was fact and what was fictionalized. These legends were so old, passed down so many times that things could easily have been lost. And sometimes, you couldn't even be certain that they were talking about Fraye. There were a large number of shadow creatures inside of these legends, and not all of them were the so-named 'Shadow Child'. Then there was the translation issue; there were so many poor translations from the Jotun text to the Asgardian one that it was often difficult to read. I found it a lot easier to stick with the Jotun ones; but, unfortunately, there weren't as many direct Jotun texts. Why would there be? This was Asgard, not Jotunheim.

And then there was the issue of many of the stories being changed to indicate a moral and whatnot; most of the time, that was the Asgardians' fault. Twisting old Jotun legends so that they indicated clearly right from wrong, then told to children as a way of teaching them. The Jotuns didn't do that; change a tale just so that a child could learn certain morals. Children could learn in other ways; because these were more than legends, as Loki and I knew far too well. These were history. These were fact. And if Fraye let someone go because they had a 'pure heart' or whatnot, then why would you fear her? These were not tales to teach children to be good; they were histories told so that they would not be repeated, so that when you saw the Shadow Child, you knew to run, to run as fast as you could and never, _never _look back.

That was why the direct Jotun text was so much more reliable. I scanned a page, my eyes flicking along the words as easily as I would have read English or Spanish. I'd learnt the stuff from Loki, but if we had separated after I'd learnt what he knew, then learned on our own… well, I'm fairly certain that I would have been better at reading it than he was by now. I actually _worked _at becoming better, while he just knew it from when he was educated as a younger child.

"Loki?" I spoke up, then bit my lip. He looked up from his book, eyebrow rising, his mind struggling to re-orient itself to the real world.

His thoughts synced up with mine, and as he realized my question, he frowned. "Unlikely," he replied before I asked, turning his gaze back to the page. He was currently immersed in a third translation of the same tale; a story about a monster with black fur and teeth. We believed it was about the Shadow Hounds, but couldn't be certain, as Fraye herself never seemed to make an appearance in any of the versions that we'd read.

"But it _is _possible," I insisted. Fear was making my spine quake. Pain was stabbing through my heart. If I was right- and I was fairly certain I was- then it was no wonder that Fraye became what she was. How could she not?

I looked down to the story and read aloud- translating as I went, and partially paraphrasing- to prove my point. "'Are you alone?' the Traveler asked. 'I'm always alone', replied the Child. 'Defenseless, in this winter?' the Traveler noted her dead eyes and _blah blah blah…" _There was a long, lengthy description of how empty her eyes were; something that neither of us really needed to be reminded of, and I found the line that I was looking for. "'You should return home'… _blah blah blah…" _Another lengthy description of her sick smile, and then, "The Child replied, 'I have none'."

Loki looked away. "It… It is a fairy tale. A legend." He saw my doubt and tried to put more belief into his own words, "And even if those _were _her exact words, the entire tale involves her deception of the Traveler. Every one of those words could be a lie."

I was already shaking my head, pulling another book on top of the first and turning through pages quickly, until I found what I was looking for. "_Here._" I said at last, pointing to a line. This one was translated into Asgardian text, but the legend had been the same two times over. And her words had been the same in both versions. "'You will see your home perish, as I have seen mine.'"

"That does not…" Loki's voice faltered as I snatched another book- this one from the pile on _his _side of the ornate table- and flipped through the pages again, a little more fiercely. It wasn't that I was angry. It's that I was trying to hide how badly I was shaking.

_That poor girl…_

"'I'm always alone'," I quoted again, from a different translation, then flipped through pages again. "'They died, and I felt them burn.'" Another quote, another flip of the pages. "'A child, alone, lost in the dark'."

"She _did _say that she had a telepathic connection like ours with someone who died," Loki reminded me, a little more forceful this time. "Of course she is 'alone'. Either of _us_ would be."

Another quote from me. Another thing that she had said. But this time, it wasn't quoted from any book or text. It was from memory.

Loki's memory.

"It's impossible to rule over a dead planet. Believe me. I've tried."

He fell silent.

For a long moment, the air rang with my words- Fraye's words- and the implication they held. Because why would she try to rule over a planet that was dead, a planet that she had destroyed? Why would she even remain with any world that she had killed?

Unless she hadn't killed it. Unless it was something else that had destroyed it.

Unless that world was her own.

Loki swallowed. His mouth had gone oddly dry. He had once tried to kill his home world, his _true _home world, and it had meant nothing to him… but imagining Asgard, wiped from the skies… the shining cities, gone. The golden palace, gone. The places where he had played and hid and laughed as a child, gone. Everyone he had ever known-Thor, Odin, Frigga, Sif, the Warriors Three, everyone- _gone. _Friends and family from an older age, from a simpler time… The halls, this library, this beautiful place, _everything_ burnt to ash and dust.

What kind of hollow place would the universe be, with that large of a hole ripped out of it? What would _he _be, with that large of a hole ripped out of _him?_

I swallowed, too. I had known for a while now what Fraye's intention for my world was, had known what she had been planning to do… but suddenly, it hit home for me. Because before, I had always assumed that I would die with it (and I probably still would). But what would it be like, to live after your planet had perished?

No more home. No more Stark Tower, no more Anna Rose and Cameron Frost, no more Tony or Steve or Banner or Natasha or Clint. No more Benny or Adrian or Jade. No more April; even her grave would be wiped away. No more skyscrapers, no more of the view from the roof of the Tower. No more human music or artwork, no more human culture, no more human languages, no more… anything.

What would a life like that be?

How many lives were lived on Fraye's world? How many bodies were buried in its soil? How many people lived and loved and died there? How many songs were wiped from existence, how many languages, how much music and laughter was erased from the universe forever?

"And which one was she connected to…?" Loki wondered aloud, very quietly. "Of all those on her world, who would she share such a powerful telepathic bond with…?"

"Her lover, perhaps?" I theorized. "She _is _a telepath. If the rest of her race was like her, then perhaps it was a normal thing, a custom, even…" But then I trailed off as a new thought, and entirely separate intellectual leap, occurred to me. Loki's eyes widened just slightly, and I suddenly felt sick.

"You don't think…?" I breathed. Tears immediately started prickling at my eyes. Because it was too horrible. It was a fate I wouldn't wish on anyone. A fate that even the monster inside of me recoiled from, a hideous, grim, terrible fate that no one, not even Fraye, deserved…

"Of course not," Loki's response was immediate, even if he did not believe it himself. "Trauma like that… nothing could survive." But he wasn't meeting my eyes, and we both knew that he was no where near certain of these words. Because the monster inside of me was tame compared to the one inside of Loki; and even it cringed away from this terrible, blood-soaked thought.

After a moment, knowing that neither of us believed him, Loki stood and started towards an entirely different section of the library. I stayed sitting numbly in my chair as he returned with a tome that we were both very familiar with, a text that was taller than it was thick, with pages that were well-worn by many hands, but never more worn than they were by Loki's.

He had most every one of these pages memorized by now. It was such a selective text; dedicated solely and entirely to a single magical subject. A subject he excelled in: telepathy.

He found the page he wanted with the expert skill of one who has done so many times before, and his eyes scanned the words quickly. The sick feeling in my stomach intensified with every single word that he read and, after a moment, he snapped the book shut. His eyes were glassy; not really for Fraye's sake, but neither of us could help but imagine what it would be like, if we were the ones to undergo such an experience.

And suddenly he was by my side, and I had clutched his hand so tightly that I'm certain that every single one of his fingers would bruise, because we had to be certain, in that moment, that we were both there, that we were both alive, even though we had the other's thoughts in our minds, we had to _touch _them, we had to be _certain _that nothing was wrong, that neither of us would disappear. I was shaking from head to toe as Loki lowered himself into the seat next to me, watching me carefully.

"It can't be true," I protested weakly. "It can't be."

But of course it could, because Loki had just made certain, because he had confirmed it with those few moments of reading. He would have looked away, but neither of us could look away from each other at that point. At every second we had to make sure- are you still there? Are you still alive? Am _I_ still alive?- and so we stayed as we were, with his hand limp in my crushing grasp, and his eyes studying my face.

"With telepathy as powerful as hers, it is _possible, _at least." Loki said at last, very quietly.

"But two immortals can't link together!" I protested. "It's not physically possible! Their magical capabilities battle against each other, that's why you couldn't… I mean, that's why you and I…" I broke off as Loki sighed quietly.

"If she was born into that kind of mental collective… then the others' abilities would have shaped themselves around her. Or, her entire race had precisely the same magical capability. In either case… it is possible."

"But her entire planet?" I breathed, looking at him with wide eyes. "Linked with an _entire planet?_ And then to have them all… them all…" I choked, and finally the tears spilled, tiny little teardrops that tickled down my cheeks.

"_Do you know what that emptiness is? Do you know what it is to burn and burn and burn, the heart and center of a white inferno, breathing in the charred scent of your home and everything you love… and never die?"_

These were the things that Fraye had said to me, the things that I had mostly ignored, had mostly forgotten… but now… The pieces were clicking together, the facts falling in line, and my stomach was twisting violently. Because I couldn't even begin to think about losing Loki, and he was just _one _person, he was just _one _voice inside of my head, just _one _mind…

And if she was linked with an entire world, then she would have had _billions…_

"I think I'm gonna throw up," I moaned quietly, curling in on myself, my eyes finally breaking away from Loki's face but my hand still holding his in a death grip.

"It is possible that we are wrong," he said in a gentle tone, and I let him say it, but we both knew that it wasn't true. Because this made sense.

"_Because I always burn, Natalie. And so I will burn __**everything."**_

My eyes squeezed shut, closed tightly against the world, as though that could block this awful truth, could keep it away from me, could stop it from tormenting me, from tormenting Fraye… it was no wonder that she was the way she was. I don't think _anyone_ could become something different from that.

Because if you learned to love the pain… if you fell in love with death… then it couldn't hurt you anymore.

Loki's chair was closer to me than I'd thought; but that was perfect, because suddenly, I was reaching forwards, and my arms were wrapped around him. We sat at an awkward sideways angle, but I didn't care that my arms were bent in a weird way, I just wanted to make sure he was there, he was alive, I wanted to press my head against his chest and hear the heartbeat that shadowed mine, because it was my second heartbeat, and I couldn't live without it, couldn't survive without my other half, without my second heart…

"Don't you ever die on me," I growled; the words were surprisingly like an order. "D'you hear me?" I demanded, holding him tighter. Surprisingly, he hadn't stiffened, and was not overly freaked out by the strange mortal barnacle that had suddenly attached itself to him. In fact, he was just… still. Not a cold kind of stillness, not like stone, but a numb, empty stillness. His eyes were hollow, and he was staring at something far away, something far above my head, which rested against his chest. He was staring at nothing, feeling nothing. What _could _he feel?

"Don't you ever die on me," I repeated dangerously. If he was human, I might have broken his spine by now. Or, you know, at least given him a bruise. "If we die, we die _together, _understood?" I tried unsuccessfully to shake my head. "I'm not living without you. I'm not becoming that. I'm not. I'm not. I'm _not._"

_And, as stupid and cheesy as it sounds, _I thought, though I did not say it out loud, and tried very hard to keep him from hearing it. _I can't live without you. _

"I'm not…" I repeated this denial, this phrase, over and over again, hearing my second heartbeat in my ears, keeping in perfect time with the one that shadowed mine. Loki still stared blankly at nothing. I think, if someone else had been there, if we were not completely alone at the time, he might have reacted. He might have pushed me off of him. But, right now, it didn't matter. No one could see us. We could act like we should; act like our link always wanted us to do.

And, after a very long, very slow moment, still with the unconscious movement of one who isn't really all there at the moment, Loki's hand rose up to my upper back, in between my shoulder blades, and his arm carefully wrapped itself around me. It was such an empty gesture, because _he _was empty… and yet, somehow, it made me feel… better.

"You would never become that," I heard him whisper very quietly. But there was a firm undertone to it; a certainty previously unparalleled. And suddenly I realized that his vision was blurring, and I pulled back quickly, but gently, and his hand slid back to accommodate that movement, so that it was on my arm instead. I looked at him, my eyes round, and he smiled down at me. It was the most vacant, most watery smile I had ever seen on his face, and for some reason, it almost scared me.

"But I would," he said. Again, it was quiet. But again, it was beyond certain. "And if we do not die together, if Fraye does not kill us both… then I am going to outlive you." His fingers carefully tucked themselves under my chin, lifting it up so that I was forced to face him, and he tried to smile, and he tried to make it arrogant, to act like he was actually happy to say this. He tried to act like he used to, to act like my actions of the past year had not taken their toll, and he was still the man who had stood before a crowd of mortals and commanded that they kneel before him… as though he was still the man who had tried to destroy Jotunheim…. As though he was still the _exact same man _who had killed April before my very eyes… Because that man would smile at these next few words, but this one, this one in front of me, he would not, because he _could _not, because my pain would not allow it, and my pain was his…

But still he tried. He tried to smile. To act arrogant. To act as though he was pleased when he said, "And when I do, I am going to become just like her. And what will stop me from destroying everything, Natalie, from taking your world once and for all? What will stop me, when you are gone? Your memory?" he laughed; the sound was so grating and _wrong _that I actually, physically recoiled from it. "You will no longer exist. And you see, it does not matter what separates men from monsters; because you would not become that, and you are _just like me._ There are no _'men', _Natalie Frost. There are only monsters; and monsters who are even greater than those."

"You wouldn't," I blurted, and suddenly I was nineteen years old again. I was nineteen and clueless, the pizza girl who was blind to the superhero world around her… I was the girl who only now discovered that there was true evil in the world, and true pain. The girl who had only just learned about Loki Laufeyson, the man who was threatening my world, the man who would destroy my home and everything that I loved if I did not stop him. And that is how nineteen-year-old Natalie would respond, because she wouldn't believe that after all this time, and after all we'd done, that Loki could still even _think _about destroying Midgard, about becoming a monster, about just waiting until after I died…

"But you know that I would," he said, and his eyes were sparking with an age-old danger that hadn't been on his face in so long, that I hadn't seen in his eyes since the days of long ago… "And all that you have done, all that you have _ever _done, is made things worse for your planet… for if I lost you, if my wits snapped in the way you know they will, then what is to _stop _me from becoming just like _her?_"

Just like her. Because right now, Loki wasn't anywhere near as bad as she was. He might kill you. He might have even cut out a dude's eye. But he wouldn't hold you prisoner for months at a time, wouldn't torture you for _months,_ wouldn't carve his name into your skin,wouldn't kill off your friends and family just to see the pain on _your _face…

And nineteen-year-old Natalie might not have had an answer to that question. She might have cowered away in fear. She might have worried and fretted, or blustered and threatened to hide the terror. But twenty-one-year-old Natalie had seen some shit in her lifetime, and you'd better believe that she had an answer.

I gripped his wrist suddenly, pulling his hand closer to myself and yanking his sleeve upright. It was the wrist with the Key, but that didn't matter to me. That wasn't what I was showing him. "Take it off," I growled dangerously, gesturing to the inside of his forearm. He knew that I was talking about the illusion on his skin, but he did not obey; merely looked down at me with a cold expression, because we were both pretending that we were still the same people we were in the old days, pretending that he was still the same old asshole and I was still the same blind, immature pizza girl.

"Fine," I snarled, and my pain, my hurt for Fraye, it all solidified into anger, and I was sneering at him. Because how dare he do this to me now, how dare he let himself slip back into what he _thought _he wanted to be, when we both knew that this wasn't true, we _both _knew that there was no point in the throne, no point in the crown, because it wasn't like he ever really _wanted_ it in the first place… "You know what I'm talking about, anyway." I turned his arm around, held it in front of his face, as though the illusion had been removed regardless of his refusal to do so.

"You want to know what will stop you, Loki, well take a look!" I snapped. "Because no matter how hard you try to pretend that you're a monster, you know what it is to have this _done _to you! You _already _know what it is to be in pain, and you're a_ hell _of a lot more empathetic than you know! Take a look at your _scars, _Loki! Could you _ever _do that to _anyone?"_

And you know what? He flinched. He actually flinched. But I was relentless, because now I was _pissed. _With that one question, he had negated a year's worth of talking, of pleading, of asking him hard questions and trying to be his friend, had negated everything that I had ever done for him, had told me that I really _was _beating my head against a brick wall all along, had told me that he could never change… and it was _bullshit. _

I found my hand gripping his collar tightly, my fingers shaking. Was I hurt? I don't know, I think I was more angry than anything else. I was done putting up with this crap, done with his crazy mood swings, done with him feeling like he was doomed to repeat this endless cycle of hate, like he was doomed to be a monster no matter where he turned, because it was in his blood, and one day he would be alone and he must become this, must become just like her… well, Fraye had more link than one. She had a _reason. _He _didn't, _and he _wouldn't, _no matter _what _happened to me.

"And if that's how you feel, you son of a bitch, then why don't you just _kill me now?_" I gripped his collar tighter and twisted it in my grasp, pulling him just a little closer to me, my face in his. His eyes went wide, wondering where that had come from, wondering if I could possibly be serious…

"We're alone! You've got a weapon, you've got all your magic, I won't freaking stop you, go ahead! You go _right ahead _and _kill me _you _bastard, _because I'm _done _with this!" I was still holding onto his collar in a tight fist, like I wished it was his neck. "I'm _done _with you and your _crap! _If I'm the only thing that's stopping you from being the 'bad guy', from running away from this planet and going off to who-knows-where and hoping that Fraye doesn't find you, then _go ahead!_ If I am the _only thing _standing in the way of _you _and _everything you ever wanted_, then go ahead and _end this!" _I released his collar, pushing him back, and his eyes grew even wider. A strange, unearthly innocence lingered in the back of his startled gaze.

"Go on!" I shouted. "Because it's only ever going to get worse! You and I are only ever going to get _closer, _so what the hell, go ahead and _finish this! _I'm not breaking out the shield, I'm defenseless, so do it! Kill me and run away, just like the _coward you think you are!_"

He swallowed; I could see the action in his pale throat. He actually stuttered on the word, "I-I-I…"

He couldn't get the sentence out, but I could hear it in his head: a rationalization, a reason. _I don't have a way to leave the planet. The Bifrost is gone. The Tesseract is guarded. _

"That's bull_shit!" _I screeched at him. If the library were not so huge and so empty, I would have worried that someone would hear me. "There are ways in and out of the nine realms that even _Heimdal_ is blind to! Ways that _you _know like the back of your hand!" He'd gotten the Frost Giants in without Heimdal noticing, after all… it was a fact that I'd been smudging for a long time now, but it was something that Loki and I both knew. Something that Thor and Odin knew as well, but had thought irrelevant, as the Key on our wrists would stop him from leaving the planet, so long as I was alive and so long as I could think to stop him.

"So go on, you _coward! _Kill me now, spare yourself a worse pain later, take your chances out there in the universe, running from _her! GO ON!" _I pushed my chair back, standing up and opening my arms out wide, a bigger target, more easily dealt with. "If that's _all you are, _then _do it!"_

Loki stood as well, an almost unconscious thing. His eyes were wide, questioning, pleading… not even I could identify all of the emotional tumult inside of them, inside of _him. _His heart was speeding up and doing strange things to mine, which was bleeding all over the place, bleeding for this fool, just as it had always done. Because he was such an _idiot_ that I couldn't do anything but _help _him, but _fix _him, but he was so bloody stubborn that he _refused _to be fixed… And every so often you had to emotionally slap him in the face to get him to wake up and realize what, exactly, he was doing to himself…

Just as he had done the other day, when I had been drunk…

"That's _monstrous _enough for you, isn't it?" I snarled at him, striking my fist against my heart. "Go on. Kill me. Finish this once and for all. You've got blood on your hands already, does it even _matter _if any _more _gets on there?"

His mouth was dry. I was shaking. Fear or fury or what, I don't know, but something was making me tremble from head to toe as I kept my eyes dead on his, as I kept my feet planted, as I stood my ground. "Even if it's _mine?_"

Behind the word 'mine' was a thousand others. Because I wasn't just 'me' anymore. I was part of him. And that meant that my blood was his, and he would be killing a part of himself, he would be ripping me out of his head with his own two hands, and any pain that followed would be _his _doing, because all he ever did was cause himself pain, because he loved it, he loved it almost as much as Fraye did…

Because if you fall in love with pain and death, it can no longer hurt you. And this was a lesson he'd learned so long ago…

"Stop," he suddenly blurted. "Stop this. This… This is madness."

"Madness?" I hissed through my teeth. "No, _madness _is trying to give _you _a second chance that you think you don't deserve! _Madness _is trying to save you from yourself time and time again, when you _won't hear it! Madness _is me trying to prove all the time that _you _are not the monster that you are _so convinced you are!_"

"Natalie…" He seemed almost… speechless. His eyes were still wide, still questioning, still pleading. Even if he could have spoken, I would have been deaf to his words. I was picking up a real head of steam.

"If you're really _that sick _of second chances… then go ahead. Make it official." I took another step back, standing taller, arms spreading wider. Opening myself to the attack. Preparing for it. "Claim yourself, son of Laufey. Declare who you are and on what side you stand!"

"Natalie!" His voice was suddenly a thousand times sharper, louder, harder. I didn't flinch away from it, or from the hands that fell on my shoulders, though I half expected them to slide upwards and wrap themselves around my neck. He shook me just slightly, his face even paler than it usually was. "_Shut up!"_

And then… then…

Then his arms were around me. And he was shaking just as badly as I was, whispering in my ear. "Just be silent, you… you _imbecile_."

I stiffened, frozen into place by this sudden and uncharacteristic display of… _affection? _… The _hell? _

_Do you not understand, you fool? _His voice was in my mind suddenly as he pulled me closer. My cheek pressed against his chest. _Do you not understand that, as much as I may hate what has been done… I can no longer survive without you, either? _

I was stunned into immobility; but my arms seemed to have a will of their own, because they wrapped themselves around his waist without my permission, and they _stayed_ there. And suddenly we were holding onto each other again, making sure that we were still here, still alive… because we would be empty without this second part of our minds, we would be so alone without the other's heartbeat always shadowing our own… because we might not become Fraye, but we would certainly be monsters without each other, because we were monsters before we had each other, and that pain would invite that side of us forwards, would cause it to take control, and we would be lost in what we thought we were…

But for now… for now we were not monsters, because we held each other back. Because we were together.

And then I was quivering like a leaf. _What in the hell was I thinking? He couldn't do that. He wouldn't do that. He'd never do that. He can't. Like I can't. _

My hands linked together behind his back and we did not move.

_I thought I would have longer. _I'm not sure that Loki meant for me to hear these thoughts, these ones that were now swirling about inside of his head like insanity, but whether it was his intent or not, I still heard them. _I thought it would take longer for me to need you as a part of my mind. I thought it would take longer before my happiness became dependant on yours. Oh, damn you, Natalie Frost, why did you have to be right? Why could you not have been wrong, just this once… Why are mortals' minds so similar to immortals? Why are they so close, so alike, when we are so different? Why are they so near… equal? _

_ Why couldn't you have been __**wrong **__about your rightful place in the universe? _

His head swam on this tangent for quite some time, and I let it flow off into background noise. It was funny, how in this kinda awkward, odd emotional moment… he was sounding just a little bit more like me. He'd certainly never said 'shut up' before; it was too much of a mortal phrase. And everything else, too… It was like he was letting go; letting my influence corrupt him for just a moment, as it had been trying to do for so long, and he was speaking in the way the link insisted he speak, because who around here would care if he sounded different? Who around here would think less of him if he began to adopt mortal speech patterns, or even took it further and spoke in Spanish? _I _could hardly think less of him for something that was similarly happening to _me…_

There was a noise from outside of the door, just a short distance away from us; the sound of the Tesseract, of someone being transported to this location. Loki and I split apart quickly, tearing out of our hug almost guiltily. My face went red as I tried to adopt a normal act; though, in all truth, 'normal' was pretty much exactly what I had been doing before. But it was not the 'accepted' normal, and so I quickly readjusted my thinking.

Loki, too, straightened swiftly; and not even the smell of books in the air, or the thought of being in this library right here and now, could keep the coldness from returning to his features.

_He's early, _I noted, exchanging a glance with Loki. Our eyes touched for maybe half a second before we both looked away, my face burning hotter than ever. Why was this so _embarrassing? _It shouldn't be. I'd hugged him once before. I'd been drop-dead drunk, but still… and I'd hugged him just moments ago, too, before this… and _that _hadn't been embarrassing. Why was _this? _

Loki seemed just as mystified as I was, and he cleared his throat, trying to banish the thoughts from his mind. "Shall we?" he suggested, trying to sound civil and controlled… but his voice was very slightly strained. He cleared his throat again.

I retrieved my bag from where the stacks of books were. I felt guilty leaving them messy like that, but I knew that it was a normal thing on Asgard. Most of the time, when we came back, they'd still be there. A project this important was not to be messed with.

I nodded at Loki, and the two of us headed towards the exit. Thor didn't usually come inside of the library to retrieve us, preferring to wait outside for a few minutes, just in case we were deep into a subject and didn't want to be disturbed. So this wasn't unusual.

But he was never early. Not _this _early, at least; it had only been two hours since he'd dropped us off here. A worried feeling gnawed at my gut; and it was only intensified when we opened the door and saw him standing there. Because it wasn't Thor who was holding the Tesseract.

It was Steve.

"Cap?" I asked, confused. Loki immediately stiffened, on high alert. The look on the Soldier's face quickly had me doing the same. "What is it?" I asked, a little too softly. "What's wrong?"

Steve swallowed. The action looked almost painful. "It… It's Thor," he said after a moment. He held out his hand- the one holding the Tesseract device- to us. "We need you back home, Natalie. Now."

* * *

Steve hadn't been wrong when he said that it was 'Thor'. But then, he hadn't been altogether clear on what- or, more specifically, _who- _the problem was.

There are few things worse than walking into a hospital room without knowing exactly who is inside it. I couldn't be sure that it was not Thor; but most indications suggested that it wasn't. He wouldn't have been in a hospital in the first place; we would have treated him at the Tower, in the Helicarrier, or -more likely- on Asgard.

I knew it wasn't Loki; he was right next to me, his hand in mine as I crushed the life out of his fingers for the billionth time that day. But I was at a loss as to who else it could be until I actually stepped into the room.

Thor was sitting next to the bed, his large hand wrapped around a much smaller, thinner, more feminine one. He turned around to face us as Loki and I entered the room (the visitor limit had reached its maximum with us, and so Steve and Banner, who had joined us, had both been forced to remain in the waiting room). Thor might have been trying to give us a weak smile, but the corners of his lip did little more than twitch upwards, and he turned back to the bed after only a moment. Brown hair was splayed out on a pillow, and white gauze had been taped up around the occupant's cheek and the side of her neck.

_Oh, no… _I found myself thinking. _Oh, __**please **__no… not her… not Jane…_

For it was indeed Jane Foster lying on the bed. She was out cold, completely dead to the world. A heart monitor registered a steady, even beating, a constant reminder that she was still here, still living, a mechanical sound representing a very alive heartbeat. But her face showed no signs of life, and her skin was very pale.

I had met Jane a few times before (she was in a relationship with Loki's brother. _My _brother. It was inevitable) but not very frequently. I liked her well enough; she was clever, with a bright attitude, a scientist's mind. Relatively speaking, we got along pretty well. But Thor… Thor loved her. We all knew it; I was sure even Jane had been made aware of it by this point. Thor loved her so much, and Fraye had done what Fraye does best, and she had taken that love away from him…

The hand that was not currently holding Loki's curled into a fist. If I hadn't chewed up my nails so badly earlier in the day, I'm sure that they would have drawn blood.

_I hate you, Fraye Burns. _I tasted metal. _You wanna die, bitch? Well I'm happy to oblige. _

Loki ignored this and walked forwards, his hand gently tugging itself out of mine as he did so. I let it go without resisting, let it slip through my grasp, let my arm fall limply back down to my side. Then I let that hand curl into a fist, too. There had been so much pain in Thor's eyes… you'd think that someone like Fraye would be sick of pain, that she'd be sick of death, but no, she had learned to love it… and maybe it was understandable.

But it was still unforgivable.

Loki, on the other hand, seemed to be ignoring any kind of emotion that Fraye's latest act was stirring in his chest. He was examining Jane carefully, removing the gauze with light, gentle fingers so that he could look at the wounds. He frowned; he was no Healer, but he had seen his fair share of Shadow Wounds (perhaps more than his fair share) and he swiftly identified that this was, indeed, what had happened to her.

"Where are the rest?" he inquired of Thor, gesturing to the gauze on her neck. Because we all knew that there were more.

Thor didn't seem capable of speech. He merely buried his face in his hands, which were still holding Jane's between them, and shook his head back and forth silently.

_Useless, brainless… _Loki tried to be irritable, but it wasn't really working out. These terms were more sadly affectionate than anything else. He turned to me. _Frost?_

I was still staring at the tiled ground, hair trailing in front of my eyes. I was wondering what color Fraye's blood was. Was it red, like mine, like a human's or an Asgardians? Was it blue, like Loki's? Or was it another color, separate to her? I thought it might be black. Black blood would fit her quite nicely.

I wondered what it would look like when I smeared it all over the Tower floor…

_Frost, _Loki insisted, and I blinked, looking up at him. That was new. I was usually the one pulling _him _out of homicidal rages. _A little assistance? _He asked with a brush of sarcasm.

I swallowed and nodded, stepping forwards. Thor was still holding onto Jane's hand like a lifeline; I'd never seen the big guy so… _crippled _before. I pushed the thought back before it could take over my entire mind again. No good would come from me going psycho at the moment.

I gestured for Loki to step back as I pulled Jane's blanket back. She didn't stir. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

There were bandages on her ankles, and one on her calf. A lot more littered her arm, but the more worrisome one was the one that, we only now realized, just _started _at her neck. It traveled down from there all the way across her collarbone, curling around above her other shoulder, disappearing behind her back. Loki and I exchanged a look. Who knew what damage was on her back.

_There's nothing you can do, _my mental tone was oddly flat as I said this. Loki nodded in silent agreement.

"This is beyond my capabilities, brother," he told Thor in a quiet whisper. "And it is far beyond mortal science. She needs a Healer."

Thor didn't even move. The poor guy was so far out of it that he was in space. I knew how he felt. But something was keeping me rooted to the spot; a slowly building, deep, echoing crackle of flame that was resounding off of my insides. A shifting of magma at my core.

Someone was going to die soon, and I was going to make damn sure that it wasn't Jane.

Suddenly, Jane's breathing changed. It grew abruptly raspy, harsh, a strange rattling noise in the back of her throat… she started thrashing about, practically seizing… Loki's eyes went huge as the beeping grew more intense, as the sound of doctors and nurses rushing to the rescue started behind the closed door. Loki's head ducked down to Jane, his ear next to her lips, as he listened closely to her breathing, narrowly avoiding her flailing limbs.

"Not this…" I thought I heard him say. And then his head whipped to his brother. The door flew open. "How long has this been happening?" Loki demanded of Thor as the doctors rushed in, started bustling us out. Even Thor was forced out of the room- he didn't even fight it. _Now _I was getting worried about him, because he must have fought this before, must have fought to stay beside her so many times that he had eventually realized how pointless it was, and that he would only make things worse- and, once we had been shoved outside with the door closed behind us, Loki took his shoulders. "How _long, _brother?"

Thor looked to him numbly. My heart screamed. No, no, those weren't his eyes, his eyes were alive and bright, full of cheer and joy and laughter… what are these eyes? Who do they belong to? Who could possibly have eyes so dead as these, if they did not belong to Fraye herself, she with the most hollow of hollow gazes…?

"Since she came here," Thor managed to speak at last. His words were slow. Pained. "She… she can not _breathe, _Loki. She… She can not… breathe…" Those dead eyes became glassy. Don't. Don't cry. You are the Thunderer, the Prince of Asgard, and you will _not cry, _dammit, because if you do… if you do…

Loki took a step back, releasing Thor's shoulders. A sigh slipped out of his chest as he looked down and away, his eyes closing. A heavy weight settled over his shoulders, and mine.

"Get her to a Healer," Loki ordered. "_Now._"

Thor looked up to him. Maybe the urgency in Loki's tone bled through to him, because he spoke again. "Why?"

He sounded like such a child. Fraye had reduced this strong, brave man into a little kid in mere seconds. The childlike side of Thor Odinson had been revealed; along with the darker side of his childishness. Loki looked away in pained disgust. "Just _do _it!" He snarled, but his voice cracked. He looked down, his eyes screwing up tightly. "I… I…"

He stopped. Because Thor had always protected Loki from those who would cause him physical harm. But Loki would always protect Thor from those who would take advantage of him for his power, who would take advantage of his slow wit and blustering arrogance. And now here again… he had failed. He had failed to protect Thor from the harsher truths of life, and why did that hurt…?

Not meeting Thor's dead eyes, he whispered, "I'm sorry, brother," and turned away.

He started off down the hall. I would have stayed with Thor, but something told me that wherever Loki was headed was likely more attuned to my plans, so I followed him instead.

_What's happening to her? _I asked, my mental voice flat and slightly demanding. I wanted an answer. I would _get _an answer.

Loki didn't reply for a long time. A _very _long time. The two of us navigated through the hallways with the expert ease of those who were used to such places, though we were not. Loki wouldn't look at me. I wouldn't look at Loki.

_What's __**happening **__to her? _I repeated, the two of us moving in tandem to avoid a few nurses in scrubs, talking about something that was making them smile and laugh.

_It… _Loki closed his eyes, counting on mine to help him navigate his way through the halls. He did not wish to speak of it; which immediately clued me in to the fact that, whatever this was, it was something that had happened to _him _as well.

_I'm going to rip her limb from limb one way or another, _I told him, elbowing my way past two men who looked very similar in facial structure. Brothers, in all likelihood. _You might as well give me a proper reason._

It wasn't something that Loki wished to remember, nor to relive, but I was not going to let it go. He sighed through his nose and opened his eyes again, moving with a sudden stiffness.

_There is a great deal of darkness inside of a human body, _he said with frostbitten words. _Which means that there are a great number of shadows inside of a person at all times. In this instance… Fraye is manipulating the darkness inside of her lungs. _

My eyes became flint. _That's what I figured, _I growled. My fists were clenched so tight that my wrists began to ache, but you couldn't have pried my fingers open with a crowbar. _Cutting her up from the inside?_

_ Not cutting, I suspect, _Loki answered, with the wearied knowledge of one who truly knew about such things. _Not yet. But blocking her airways. Stopping her from breathing. Poisoning them, perhaps. _

_ Can the Healers stop it? _

_ For a while. Whether it stops permanently… that is entirely under Fraye's control._

_ And if we kill Fraye?_

He gave me an even look. _You know that is impossible. _

_ But what if we __**do?**_

_ Then it stops. But it can not be done. Not by us. _

_ I'm not talking about just us. _

He stopped in his tracks, halting very suddenly. But I halted at the same time, knowing that he would do so in advance. I lifted an eyebrow, daring him to challenge me, to question me, to _stop _me. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed and, after a long moment, began walking again.

_Do you truly believe that they will help?_ He inquired carefully.

_ We can ask, _I answered, falling into step beside him.

_They will not stand against her. _

_ I don't expect them to. But something killed off her planet. Something managed to wipe out an entire race of these things. I wanna know what that something was. And they just might be able to tell us._

He nodded slowly. Without thinking about it, with no prior planning or conscious decision, the two of us had arrived at the elevator. I pressed the button as Loki clasped his hands behind his back.

_You know that the Avengers will not approve. And it's even more unlikely that my father will allow it. _

_ Look at me, Loki. Do I __**really**__ look like the kind of person who actually __**gives**__ a shit right now? _

Tony and Steve were in the waiting room, Thor was with Jane, and the others were at the Tower. It would be a while before anyone noticed that we were missing; hopefully, with all of the commotion of getting Jane out of the hospital and into Asgard, we would be able to slip back into the Tower or wherever and pretend like we were never gone.

_If we are caught, _Loki said slowly, _there could be… consequences. _

_There could be consequences if Fraye wipes us all out, too. _

He hesitated. _Perhaps… __**I **__should be the one to…_

_Nope._ I cut him off._ Even if they don't know your true nature, then you're still an 'Asgardian' to them. That makes you the enemy. Ergo, you're not going. _I took a deep breath as the elevator doors dinged open, allowing us out. _It has to be me. They have no relations with Midgard, good or bad. Not anymore, anyway. _

He was quiet for a moment as we made our way towards the exit. I was so wrapped up in my own determination that I didn't notice the way he was looking at me until we were outside again. _What? _I demanded irritably.

He half-smiled wryly. _It is nothing. _He said quietly. _But… _

_**What? **_I repeated.

_You remind me of my brother. _

I blinked. It wasn't the first time he'd said that to me. I was like Thor in a lot of ways; even _if _I did have more in common with Loki than I did him (and more than was probably healthy). But it was the first time that these words were not directed as an insult.

_You are both fools, _He said, turning away from me. _But you are brave__fools._ He looked forwards again. _It seems that you can not have one trait without the other. _

Maybe if there weren't shadows in my blood, as dark and deadly as the ones now tormenting Jane, I might have smiled. As it was, I just kept walking onwards. I didn't even say anything in response.

We actually made it outside of the hospital before we were caught; but not by the Avengers.

By Fraye.

She was sitting on a nearby stone bench, her legs crossed, her arms spread out on the back of said bench, a little smile on her lips. She was back in that black dress again, with that blood-red lipstick and high heels that would break a lesser woman's ankle. Her black hair was once again pouring down in ringlets. It was a look very unfitting to her; it seemed every hollow bone and sharp joint had been highlighted by that black dress. But then, that was probably the point.

I saw her the instant I walked out of the hospital, of course. I just didn't care. I stalked past her with angry strides; I'd suspected that she might come to gloat, and here she was, gloating smile at the ready. And here I was, not caring in the slightest. It didn't matter what had made her into what she was. She was still a threat. And that threat had to be neutralized, one way or another.

"You're not even going to say hello?" Fraye asked, her lower lip jutting out as she pouted. Her voice was cutesy and filled with sugar, sweet and cooing.

Loki had gone cold, but he followed my lead and ignored her. Of course, Fraye didn't accept that. She loved her audience. She loved the reaction. She loved to pick people apart just like I did; my core opposite, the Shrink of Death.

Her head tilted to the side as we passed her; a moment later, white-hot fire lanced through Loki's back in a very familiar, age-old pattern. He cried out as the shadows that still lurked inside of the scars on his back (the ones that remained where her name had been inscribed) began to twist and thrash about, poisoning his blood… I tasted metal as I whirled on her, my hair lashing across my face, whipping into my eye and making it sting. I barely noticed.

"_Enough!_" I snarled. "I'm_ done _with you! I'm not waiting around here to listen to you _monologue _about your recent _victory! _You've played your hand, you've moved the chess piece, and now the game falls to me! I get it!" My foot slammed down into the concrete as, in spite of all of Loki's fears, I found myself less than half an inch away from her face. And, for the first time, I realized that she was shorter than me.

"This is me," I growled at her. "Making my move." My eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. "Try and _stop _me."

Her head tilted to the side, and she smiled, her blood-red lips curling up just around the edges, her perfectly white teeth gleaming in the sunlight. "Now why would I do that?" She bubbled.

Not taking her eyes off of me, she began to circle me with slow, predatory steps. I didn't stand still and let her observe me this time, though. I kept my eyes on _her, _too, turning around and around, each of my steps compensating for hers, her languid, relaxed movements that were still somehow… dangerous. The hair on the back of my neck and arms was standing upright; my natural instincts were all screaming at me. The desperate need to survive wanted to propel my footsteps away. To stand against her, this creature which stood far above the human race on the universal food chain, was to go against my very nature, to go against my very blood.

"You have a very interesting way of thinking, Natalie Frost," she told me in a leisurely purr. "And not just because of your next move- though I'm curious as to how that will work out." A little girlish giggle trickled out of her painted lips. She took a step behind me, and I turned with it. Step by step, move by move, doing our little fighting dance without landing a single blow… electricity seemed to crackle in the air around me, to spark at the meeting point between our stares, and the heat that was pumping through me… it was not fire. It was hotter than fire, more alive, and it was burning straight through my charred skin… but it was also transforming me at my core, magma shifting and resettling beneath the surface.

"It was an interesting deal you made," she said, the wind picking up, blowing her black hair across her pale face, her dress around her legs. The wind was blowing across me, too, getting my hair in my eyes, tugging on the pull strings of my hoodie, but I ignored it, because I could not feel it, because it didn't even affect me enough to fan these flames inside of me…

"An interesting _choice, _that you gave him," she added, her eyes flicking to Loki and back again. We were both currently ignoring the Trickster, acting as though he was not there, as though he was not hearing every word.

"You would have allowed him to kill you," she purred, and immediately I knew what she was talking about. Our conversation in the library. What I'd told him to do. "You would have let him kill you and run away, just like that…" She chuckled, shaking her head back and forth. "Oh, Natalie, you know him so well, but you don't know him well _enough!_"

And suddenly she was right next to me again, her hands on my shoulders, her lips next to my ears, holding me in a half-hug, embracing me like an old friend, a sight undoubtedly not uncommon in front of a hospital… my hair hid her lips and thus her words from any unwanted attention, intended only for me and Loki…

"For you to die, just so that he could run away… it's all so pointless, isn't it? And all so _permanent._" She giggled again. "He would never accept such an offer, if he did not have some way to… _retract _it." Her voice lowered, like she was telling me a great secret. I was just thinking about the fastest way to remove her hands from the ends of her wrists. "Because that's why he's my favorite, don't you see? Because he _loves _it. He _loves _the mental anguish, _loves _to have his own past decisions _torment _him. He's _so close _to hearing it, Natalie, just like you are _so close… _He'll hear it one day, I swear it. He'll hear the Song of Oblivion. My Melody of Ruin."

I finally pushed her back, unable to take her touch on my shoulders anymore. I couldn't actually harm her, but she stumbled back as though wounded, and pouted again. Her lower lip trembled. "Aw, don't be like that, Nat'lee. You know it's true."

I pointed a finger at her, jabbing it in her face. "I'm _done _with you, Fraye. Do you hear me? I'm _done." _I turned away. "You keep your little psycho bullshit to yourself. You're not scaring me anymore." I tried to stalk up to Loki, throwing the words over my shoulder with unnecessary venom, "I won't be _afraid of you _anymore!"

She laughed; and despite how I'd said just seconds ago that I was done, despite how I believed that I was finished with listening to her, despite absolutely everything, the sound made me freeze. Because it wasn't one of her girly giggles. There was no charm oozing from the sound, no sugar fluff and cotton candy to make it sickly sweet, no syrup pouring into my ears. This was different. It was sarcastic. Cruel, yes, beyond cruel, it was a rough and grating sound, the sound of one pushed to the brink and no longer just staring back at the abyss…

This was the sound that the abyss itself made.

This was the sound of one who has been torn apart.

This was a single note from the Song of Oblivion.

"Afraid!" She choked on her laughter. "Oh, Natalie dear, you're terrified!" It wasn't the childish, candy-coated tone anymore. This was… eternal. It echoed in time and in the scream of the stars… this was the laugh of an ageless child who danced with death…

"You're scared out of your wits! Don't you get it yet? Don't you get _any _of it?" She laughed again. I didn't turn around to her. My eyes were on Loki, who was watching me in return. The two of us were waiting. Waiting for one of us to decide how we should react. Because we weren't sure. Because this wasn't Fraye. And yet, it was more Fraye than Fraye herself had ever been.

"Of course you're _afraid, _and that's the point, my dear Natalie, because you were wrong!" She laughed again, that bitter, salted laugh that rubbed itself into wounds that I hadn't even realized existed before that moment. "You've said it before, haven't you, that the opposite of love isn't hatred? You said it was _indifference. _But you're wrong, Natalie. You're so wrong."

Where the hell was _this _coming from? I wasn't sure I cared that much. I _was _done with Fraye. Even if she changed everything, even if she tried to trip me up… I was _done _being her puppet.

"The opposite of love is _fear. _And I _am _fear. And so I'm going to take the ones you love apart, piece by fragile piece.

It's starting right now, don't you see?" She laughed again. "It started long ago; with Barton, and Romanoff. They were the easiest; poor little blind creatures, so lost without each other that they don't even realize they're in love. But now each is afraid of what the other will do, what the other will say, and so they're staying away from each other."

My joints froze, my muscles stiffening, locking my bones in place. _As if I need any more reason to kill you right now. _

"And then your parents, always fighting about you, about what you are and what you've done… mommy is ever so loyal to her daughter… And daddy is ever so frightened…"

My hands were in fists again. I was biting my tongue so hard that there was blood in my mouth, and it was starting to spill out of my lips. I couldn't feel the pain.

"And not even the dead are saved from fear, Natalie Frost," she was closer to cooing now, though she was not quite there yet. "I'm sure April would turn in her grave, if she could see what I've done to her mother."

My vision was tunneling. Everything that was not going black was turning a bright crimson, coated in red mist. _Walk away. Walk away, Natalie. You can't fight her here. You can't stop her now. Fight later. Fight when you __**can**__ fight. Walk away. Walk away. _

_And __**what **__did she do to Mrs. Blackthorn?_

"And now Thor is losing his precious little mortal… And all of these things, all of these pieces that I'm chipping away, they're all pieces of _you, _Natalie. They're all pieces of my little plaything, because it always comes back to Loki in the end. Because he's so close, and he needs to _hear _it, I need you to _hear it, _my little giant. Because you're so very afraid…"

I tried to move my feet even an inch away. Half an inch. A _quarter _of an inch. I had to move away, but I was rigid, I was stone, I was a statue, and I started to hear it in my head, a haunting tune that made me see, smell, taste, hear and feel _blood…_ all around me, there was blood…

"And you thought you might 'learn to _love _him again'," She sneered, and the words were still directed at Loki. "You thought you might _love _your brother, but look at him! Does it not hurt you worse, now, my little giant, to see him so weak? To see him broken? He is held hostage by his love of that mortal, and you are falling into that same pattern! Held hostage by the fact that you care for _him! _So tell me, do you truly want to _be_ him? Or do you want to be _better _than him?"

"_**YOU!**__"_

The word was so abrupt and unexpected that it almost shocked me out of my anger. My eyes whipped up to Loki, who was staring at the ground. He was shaking. I hadn't even realized that he was shaking, and far worse than I was. He hands, too, were clenched, and his nails were longer than my own chewed-ragged ones, and so they were drawing blood… and though that blood was red as it trailed down his pale fingers, there were blue splashes on the floor, dark blue droplets seeping into the stone. I looked at him as his teeth clenched, as his bones ached with the pure strain of holding his muscles back, of keeping himself so perfectly rooted in one place.

"_You." _He repeated, the words hissing from between his teeth, serpentine and filled with snake venom. _"Are not allowed to __**speak **__of my __**brother.**_"

I stared at him. "Loki…" I found myself breathing, stunned. But why was I surprised? I'd known this all along. He was angry, and of course he was angry for Thor, because Thor was _Thor. _He was the big brute who had been tied to Loki since they were children, the imbecile that Loki had been forced to protect from himself, time and time again, until it became as natural as breathing. He was the dumb golden retriever that had tagged along at his heels since the beginning, the idiot who would always laugh at his pranks and tricks, and was frequently the subject of them. The brother he got into trouble all the time. But he always got him out of it.

And, dammit, if anyone was going to torment, torture, and eventually kill Thor, it was going to be _Loki. _That was _his _right. As his _brother. _

Through the anger, through the pain, through the blood… I found myself smiling at that. Those two had the weirdest, sickest, most adorable sibling relationship in the history of _ever. _

Fraye's lips still remained curled in a defiant smile, despite Loki's words. The Trickster turned away, his coat snapping in the quick gust of wind that the movement made. "Frost." He ordered.

I obeyed, giving Fraye a final, foul glare before falling in line beside him, the two of us walking away. Even now, even with all of his anger… he still found it nigh impossible to turn his back on her. He was still so terrified of her…

Fraye's words were slow and quiet. But they somehow made their way over to us, anyway. "Do you think that you will ever stop fearing me, Loki?" She asked quietly. "I _am _Fear." There was a moment of silence, in which neither of us spoke as we continued walking away from her, his hand still bleeding, though the rolling droplets had slowed down considerably.

"The opposite of fear is love and vice versa; that is why your mortal is spared from it, for now." She giggled. The girly, hebephrenic stuff was back. "Because she is already in love. That much was obvious from the start. But you… _you_ will _never_ be saved from Fear!"

"Do you know what she is talking about?" Loki asked with a trace of exasperation.

"No freaking clue," I answered bluntly, with clear hostility. And I may or may not have actually said 'freaking'.

We did not turn back to see if Fraye had vanished. We did not see if this was any kind of victory, nor did we allow ourselves to view it as a defeat. We just kept walking away from her, from her words, from her poisonous effects, from the shadows themselves.

And you know… I had done this before. I had walked away from an enemy far more powerful than me, had turned my back on someone making threats… but now I was doing it again, together _with_ that enemy… and, not for the first time, I realized just exactly how pointless those threatening words were, when they were said to someone who truly didn't care.

I linked my arm in Loki's automatically. "Come on," I said slowly. "We've got work to do."

And we did.

Because there was a lot that we had to do, before we could go to Jotunheim.

**A/N: Okay! So I'm going on vacation sometime soon, for two weeks. This means that I may or may not be able to update until at least a few days after I come back. So the next update will probably be extraordinarily, supremely late. :/ Unless I can update before I leave or figure out a way to update once I'm there. Just a head's up! **

**A big thank you once again to all of my readers, all of my followers, all of my favoriters, and all of my reviewers! You are all so awesome! **


	13. Jotunheim 101

**A/N: Hmm… Lotsa things to say… hmm… **

**Okay, first: there will be a fair number of OCs from now on, which I'm pretty sure you'll be okay with, because this was a pretty OC-centric story to begin with. :/ But, in my defense, as far as I could tell, there was only one Frost Giant in the actual 'Thor' movie (besides Loki), and that was Laufey. Who, well… died. So that leaves me with a whole planet to fill up with peoples. **

**Second: I wanted to thank my Guest reviewer (Guest) for suggesting those songs for Natalie and Loki. :) As I've said before, I'm always happy whenever people suggest songs for my characters. That's pretty much how I listen to music, anyway; trying to figure out if any of the lyrics fit with my characters. :P **

**And finally! I wanted to say that, yes, this probably **_**will **_**be the last update I can post for a while. For at **_**least **_**two weeks, I will probably be unable to update. There may be a way, but it's not likely. :( So! I made sure this chapter was long and filled with stuffs. Hope you like it, and please review! :D **

* * *

As it turned out, we couldn't actually implement our little 'plan' until the next day. There were Avengers crawling all over the place, and, when we made it to Asgard, there were sentries in the areas where the Avengers were not. The tension was thick in the air, and in such a state of high alert, our absence would have been noted. But it was surprisingly better this way; it gave us time to think. To plan things out properly.

I changed into the thousandth outfit of the day, hoping against all hope that this one would pass Loki's seriously impossible examination. His knowledge of the each worlds' separate 'fashion' had been too good of a teasing opportunity for me to miss out on, but I had to admit that he was more well-informed in what was and was not acceptable in places like Jotunheim. And what was and was not _practical, _considering the cold.

Loki stood just outside of my room. The two of us had been talking through the door- he was staying out of my head as much as physically possible, so we had to resort to speaking out loud to get anything across- about the plan. We didn't have to hide from JARVIS anymore, since we were in Asgard, but the conversation was still shielded, so that Heimdal wouldn't see.

"We'll have to go to one of the lower levels of the palace," He told me as I tied a cloak around my shoulders. At least the clothing was one part of said plan that had gone relatively easily; it hadn't been too difficult to sneak in the room where the spares were stored for those who trained in the palace, and the arena outside. "There is less of a chance that we will be seen."

"What about Odin?" I asked, fiddling with the ties of an armband. It would be fairly useless to me in a fight, given the fact that I'd be fighting with a bubble and wouldn't really need it, but it did look tough, and 'fighting' wasn't the original idea in the first place. The idea _was _to hide the Key on my wrist. That wouldn't go down well if it was seen, I was certain. "Security's been pretty tight since you landed yourself in prison. If you open this wormhole-thingy, he might notice the power flux. He might actually _recognize _it this time."

"It is a risk." He agreed. He didn't try to tell me that the reward would be greater, though. He was still of half a mind to convince me out of doing this. At this point, we _both _thought that I was insane.

I checked myself in the mirror, then pushed through the door, into the room where the Trickster waited. He stepped aside so that he could see me, taking in the outfit with appraising eyes; and then he sniffed haughtily.

"The armor will win you no favors," He said with disdain, taking in the metal breastplate that I wore. "It is too clearly Asgardian."

"Too clearly Asgardian. Right." I rolled my eyes. "News Flash, smart one, this stuff _is _Asgardian."

I admit, I was getting a little tired of this. I was antsy. I wanted to be moving. I wanted to get this _over _with.

"But not all of it is _obvious._" He frowned at me. "Have you even _considered _what you are going to say to them?"

"Well, 'hi' seems like a good start." I answered, pulling off the breastplate to reveal the black shirt beneath. He was already shaking his head before I got the irritating thing off.

He sighed through his nose. "Different shirt," he suggested, "And warmer shoes. This is a _Jotun _winter, not a Midgardian one."

"Not like I can feel the cold, anyway," I grumbled.

"And when you lose your feet to frostbite? Do you think you will feel it then?" He was a little irritated, too. Nothing helps a bad mood like spreading it around, after all.

I muttered under my breath about pushy blue fashionistas as I went back into the other room. In truth, I was grateful for his help; another set of eyes always made things a little clearer. And image was a lot more important than you'd think. I'd met more than one important figure in my lifetime while wearing pajamas, or just jeans and a tee. This would _not _be a repeat of those times.

And it had to be _exactly _right. It had to say 'mortal', 'I can kick your butt', 'not affiliated in any way with Asgard' and 'I come in peace', all at the same time. Not an easy task, as you can imagine.

I scanned the available clothes for a better shirt as Loki went on, "And, even if everything goes according to plan, you are still about to meet with the ruler of an entire world. You could _try _and act as though that _meant _something to you."

"It meant nothing to _you,_" I pointed out. "And they accepted you pretty quickly."

"Yes, but I _acted _as though it did_._ You boast of being a liar; so _lie._"

I scowled as I pulled on another shirt; this one long-sleeved and dark blue. How was it possible for a voice that perfectly beautiful to be so freaking _annoying?_ "Look, whether you believe it or not, this _does _mean something to me. And probably more than it means to you. So you know, you shutting up right now would be just brilliant."

Loki must have felt the way my heart skipped a beat as I said that, must have felt the mild fear stirring inside of me, because he _did_ shut up. I couldn't let myself think about it for too long; because, I'll admit, I was nervous. I mean, you'd think this would be no sweat for the person who acts as the therapist to a bunch of superheroes, but it was a surprisingly big deal. It wouldn't be the first ruler of a world that I had met, but a lot rested on me being the polite, political Natalie Frost that I had never really been. Because, really, when it comes to tact, I'm clueless. Loki was the Silver Tongue, not me.

As I finished pulling on a pair of sturdy boots, I walked out. "Well?"

He scrutinized me again, then sighed and shook his head. "It will do."

"Perfect," I said sarcastically, pulling my cloak up from where I had set it and tying it around my shoulders. I knew I would be glad for the warmth, but I was still somewhat worried that it might snag on something. I fastened the ties in an easily-undone knot, so that I could drop it if this came to a fight: which _was _pretty likely. I was about to meet with a bunch of alien Spartans, after all.

I pulled my hair into a ponytail, then cleaned up the clothes and stuff that I had strewn about all over the room. Once finished, Loki and I started heading towards the lower levels of the castle, keeping our eyes open for anyone who might notice us as we went. But we avoided the sentries- and anyone else who might be prying- rather expertly. It was a little easier, with Loki there; after all, he had been sneaking around in this palace since he was very young. He knew this place, and all of its secrets.

The two of us made it to the lower levels without problems. So far, so good. My heart was pounding by this point; I was nervous. I'd been less afraid of Fraye than I was of this.

Loki met my eyes, scanning them, searching them. I think he was trying to see if I had the nerve. Well, right now, I had nerves of steel. I could do anything and everything. After all: my planet was at risk.

At last, Loki seemed to come to his conclusion. He took a single backwards step, moving away from me. "Do try not to get yourself killed," he suggested with light hauteur.

"Will do!" I answered, in the brightest tone that I could manage. Loki gave me one last dubious look, then closed his eyes and focused his concentration.

Power began to surge down his arms, rippling and radiating out of his chest, a power alive with the strength of a black ocean, the sea at midnight. Waves of magical energy crested at his fingertips, then flowed out into the world, bright blue-green, magnificent and, well… gorgeous. For some unknown reason, the thought of its beauty made me blush.

The magic tested the air around it, began to poke and prod at the fabric of the universe. Then, once it had a fair hold on said universal fabric, it began to tear, to rip it in half. Darkness opened up, a pathway between worlds, a hollow corridor. The way into Jotunheim. I thought I could just see it on the farthest end; the faintest sheen of blue-white.

"Good luck," Loki said, dripping cynicism.

"Won't need it!" I lied, turning to him so that I could give him an enormous grin. He was sweating a little; something of this magnitude did take a fair amount of energy to produce. Still giving him my best and most plastic of smiles, I stepped backwards, into the portal, leaving him behind on Asgard.

Think… corridor. Think pitch-black hallway at night, with the only light coming from a few speckled stars to either side of you. Think long, dark, empty train tunnel that, somehow, you can cross in just three steps. That's what the place looked like.

It was freezing cold from the moment I stepped through it; I could see my breath, misting in front of my face, could hear it echoing hollowly in my ears. There was a pressure against my temples, my eardrums. Moving through this corridor, my footsteps were sluggish and slow, almost as though I was underwater. The feeling in my stomach was like… like walking up the stairs in the dark. You think that there's one more step, and for just a second, your whole world jolts as you fall forwards a little further than you had thought, than you had intended. Walking through the portal was exactly like feeling that jolt: only for longer than half a second. More like twenty seconds, just… in free fall.

And then, with those three sluggish steps, I was through it, and on the other side.

I was in Jotunheim.

The portal flickered and diminished behind me, vanishing into nothingness, cutting me off from Asgard, from the Avengers, and-for the most part- from Loki. Though, as usual when I traversed across planets, this did nothing to affect the mental connection in my head; I could still feel Loki's thoughts pressed against mine, crowding out my skull. It was an oddly comforting thing to remember that, even now, in the barest, most icy of wastelands, I wasn't alone.

But that bare and icy wasteland took my breath away. For a moment, I was forced to stop moving and just… stare at it. It was so empty, so lifeless, so… so _cold. _And it wasn't the shivers-up-your-spine, goosebumps-on-your-arm kind of cold. This was the kind of cold that took root in your bones, that froze your marrow and seized hold of every nerve. To stand on Jotunheim was to breathe in icicles, to feel the arctic chill down in your very center. It was the kind of cold that bred hearts the same temperature, for it buried itself deep inside of you, a pinpoint of ice that grew and spread from a point inside your chest. It radiated out to the rest of you, and if you were born in such a place, what else could you be, but ice?

But Jotunheim's temperature wasn't its only feature. There was also the waste. The emptiness. For some reason, as I looked out at the world laid to ruin, I felt an odd kind of ache for the place. Ice and snow, I knew from experience, could be so beautiful. Why would a place carved entirely from such things be forced to lay in a desolate ruin?

Even if I had not known of the Casket of Ancient Winters, even if I had not known about that source of the Jotun's power, I'm certain that I would have recognized that something was missing here. It was as though the planet's very heart had been ripped out, and those who lived on its surface were forced to scrape and scrounge for scraps of a beauty and life that once was.

No wonder they hated Odin.

Still, being a human who knew very well what would have happened to us if Odin had _not _interceded, I could see _his _side of the story as well. But I think it's been established that my defining trait is being able to see _all _sides of most any story.

Through my eyes, Loki surveyed the empty landscape as well. His true home. The planet he would have destroyed. He still wasn't certain he was wrong to try and do so.

But…

_You have to wonder, _he mused, staring out at the empty fields of snow. _If Laufey knew who I was. If he knew that it was his own son who ended his life. _A painful little smile found its way onto his face. _Perhaps that is why he trusted me so easily. Because he believed it inevitable that I return to him. _

_We don't know, and we never will, _I said curtly, pulling my cloak tighter around my shoulders, letting out a clouded breath. _There's a time and a place for introspection, Loki, and as glad as I am that you're finally managing to do so, now is __**not **__that time or place. _

The smile stretched just a little, and I started marching forwards. My footsteps crunched in the snow and slipped in the ice; I knew my way to the 'city' by now, knew it from Loki's memory. They would not be hiding, not like they had when the others had arrived here all those years ago. They wouldn't even know that I was coming.

I took a deep breath in an attempt to keep control over my emotions. If things went south, I'd need the Death Bubble out _fast_. There could be no delay.

But the place _was _surprisingly empty as I made my way towards it. Then again, they would have seen me coming from a long way off; but why would they hide from a mortal? I wasn't a threat; if anything, I suspected that they might just try and kill me for the sport of it.

_Because you are a mortal who wields magic. This is what they will sense of you. You are an enigma to them, Natalie Frost. _

_And everywhere else, _I answered, but I was frowning. _And I don't wield magic. I mean, I know we thought that it might be possible for me to do a few little things here and there, but I'm not…_

_Your shield is. A blend of science and magic, if you recall. _

I thought about that. Obviously, Frost Giants had the ability to do magic as well- Loki was more than proof of that- and so they probably _would _sense that on me…

My crunching footsteps seemed to grow a lot louder, and a _lot _more ominous. But I made my way towards where I knew Laufey had once sat on the throne, picking my steps with great care. I supposed I didn't entirely _look _like a mortal, either; it wasn't like I was in all-mortal clothing. And mortals couldn't even really _get _to Jotunheim without help. I guess I _was _an enigma. Ah, well, that was nothing new to me.

I was inside of the city before long; and immediately suspected that I was surrounded. Heavy footsteps behind and to the side of me confirmed that theory. But they were watching. Waiting. Seeing what I would do.

I looked up to where a shadow, the shape of a man, sat on the half-hidden throne. My eyes widened, and I fought the urge to whistle. _Woah. That sucker is big. _

Loki was not amused. _He __**is **__a giant, Frost._

_Don't you mean a Frost Giant? _I teased, trying to keep my mental tone light. It was the only way I could cope with the anxiety that was threatening to cripple me. My stomach was twisting into a thousand knots, and I felt like I should have been sweating, but the cold did not allow that.

I swallowed; my mouth and throat were both completely dry. I cleared my throat and spoke, in the loudest, clearest voice I possibly could, "My name is Natalie Frost!"

I called the words up to the shape on the throne, still half-hidden by the gloomy, icy shadows. I tried to pinpoint the place where the apparent King's eyes would be. I thought I could see them; twin flashes of bright red in the gloom. "I am here on behalf of the son of Laufey!" I added.

Loki had been wary about me using this name. As far as we knew, Loki was Laufey's only child; his true blood heir, if Laufey hadn't tried to kill him. Or if Loki hadn't killed Laufey. Ugh, royals.

But if Laufey had no other kids, then who knew where the throne went. Loki hadn't really cared enough to find out, truth be told. But whoever it was might be threatened by the idea that a true blood heir of the crown might be alive, might challenge his rule. But I thought that the benefit outweighed the risk; if they thought that I was a messenger from one of their own, I might seem less of a threat, an immediate ally. You know, maybe.

I heard the scraping of ice against ice. The strange sound of a weapon being formed sounded off behind me, an ice knife or mace or club finding its way into the hand of some Frost Giant soldier. I reigned in tight control over my emotions.

A dark, powerful voice sounded from the throne. It was a deep tone, with the barest edge of a rasp. "Laufey had no son."

"Not one that was meant to survive," I admitted. And then a smile crossed my face; a smile that was more of a smirk. "But he's… harder to kill than you'd think. Believe me. I've tried."

Far away in Asgard, Loki snorted.

I looked up at the Jotun King, wondering what his name was and deciding to call him 'Big Boss Man' in my head for now. "We have no interest in Jotunheim or its throne. I only wish to speak with its king."

I saw the shadow of Big Boss Man standing up from the throne. There was a weighted silence as I kept staring up at him. I could feel all eyes on him, on me. His next words would decide it. His next words would make everything final.

"Kill her."

Ok, screw finality. I didn't like that answer.

I heard more weapons coming into existence, ice trickling down from the arms and fingertips of a hundred hidden Jotun guards. I sighed theatrically. "Yes, that does seem to be your immediate answer to everything, doesn't it?"

_Frost… _Loki said warningly. He was warring for control over my emotions, but I wasn't letting him have it. I had another plan. Maybe a riskier one, but possibly a better one.

Footsteps crashed around me. A battle cry charged in the air. I did not turn my eyes away from Big Boss Man, but merely smirked up at him, smirked with all of the wickedness that I had seen in my two worlds. Smirked with all of the darkness that I had seen in Fraye, and all the bleak hatred that I had seen in Loki.

And then, as the Jotun sentries came towards me, I shouted a single word towards the King, in a loud, echoing, resounding note. A word with the power to stop armies. A word with the power to instill the greatest of fear. A word that would have come from his legends and nightmares, a word so little spoken that it was a wonder it was not lost.

That word was "Fraye."

The effect, as I suspected it would be, was immediate. The Jotuns truly did fear her above all things; and why would they not? She was the Shadow Child, the Daughter of Darkness, the creeping death that came for you in the night.

They did not skid to a halt; there was nothing so ungraceful about their stop in movement. But they _did _stop; they froze, became ice itself, and even their King seemed to stiffen, up on his throne, staring down at us all.

And then his hand was up, keeping the soldiers from advancing again. I lifted my head up to him and held myself as tall and strong as I could manage. I saw red eyes scanning me; I was little more than a child myself, in their eyes, and for all they knew, I could be referring to myself. Announcing my return as the Child of Shadows. But that fear would vanish from their minds soon enough. I looked nothing like her, after all.

And then the King whirled on me. I could see parts of his face now, leering out of the gloom. "You dare say that name aloud?" he demanded of me, his voice radiating power. What _was _it about royals? They just all seemed to ooze power, to drip with it. It was getting on my nerves; I always fought so hard to maintain whatever illusion I had of being strong and dignified and powerful and great. Why was it so _easy _for everyone else?

"You dare to speak it _here?_" The King demanded again.

"I dare!" I agreed, advancing a step forwards. I could see all eyes on me now, the mortal who had said the name of their greatest foe, their worst nightmare. I could see it in their eyes, what they had been told since they were children: to fear her, fear her above all else, because she is the vile poison that creeps inside of your throat and blackens you from the inside out, she is the creature that creeps in between stars, she is the thing which swallows suns whole.

"I _dare!_" I repeated, turning around in a circle to meet every eye. Some looked away. Some tried to stare me down. And some were wide-eyed in their horror. "I dare, _your majesty," _I had turned back to him by now, and was pointing an accusatory finger towards him. "Because she is already here!"

There were no uneasy mummers, no quiet muttering. But the sense of fear in the air was palpable. I could taste it on my tongue, this terror of the shadows.

"Fraye is very close to your borders!" I announced. "I know what she intends, for you and your world, because for now, she resides on _mine!_ Resides upon _my _world!"

It couldn't be true. There was no fear in any eyes-they stood tall, dangerous, still armed- but it was in the air. This could not be true, Fraye was a myth, a legend. Legends can't harm you. They are tired tales, hidden away in dusty books and inscribed on old stones. They are not truths.

Denial was everywhere. Even the king reeked of it. "And what proof have you of this?" He demanded. "What evidence can attest to her presence on your world?"

"How about the fact that I'm _here?_" I suggested, lifting an eyebrow. Loki buried his face in one hand.

_Tact. Composure. __**Diplomacy. **__Do these words mean nothing to you, Frost?_

"You see, it doesn't matter to me if you believe me or not!" I shouted, while silently affirming Loki's assertion that, yeah, those words didn't mean much. Because, for once… I wasn't scared anymore. Maybe I was doing this wrong, maybe I wasn't good with politics, but I was more used to having big powerful people in my life than I kept letting myself think. And sometimes, slapping people in the face was the best way to get their attention; because it said that you were desperate enough not to _care _anymore.

"I'm not asking you to fight against her. I'm not _asking _you to stand with us, or anything else!" I looked Big Boss Man right in the ruby eyes. "I'm giving you a warning! Fraye is here, and when she is finished with my planet, she will move onto Asgard, and after that, she _will _come _here!_" I spread my hands out. "She has been on my world for a very long time now. I know her intent for my realm, and all I can do is try and warn others. All I can do is fight to protect my world with my dying breath." I watched him coldly. "And I will protect Midgard with my life. It is my blood in that soil! My friends are buried beneath that rock and dirt, my life has been led and my battles fought and my blood bled into _that soil, _and I will _die _before I allow her to take it from me!"

I took another step forwards. "And I am here, now, because I _can't_ fight her; not unless I know everything! Not unless I know _everything _about her, and you are the ones who know the most! She has been in your legends since the beginning of your world, and will likely remain in them after the death of mine! So on the behalf of the Son of Laufey, on the behalf of my world, on the behalf of all those who have fought and died on Midgard… I am here to ask for your help. For any knowledge you might have of her. Of any way to stop her.

"I'm not going to ask you to fight beside us. I'm not going to ask you to bleed and die for my planet. But one way or another, whether you assist me or not, there will come a day soon, in which _you _will have to bleed for _yours._ She will stain this ice blue as she stains my earth red, and she will burn and boil your cities to nothing." Where had all of this come from? Why was I getting so into it? Why did it feel surprisingly… right?

Natalie Frost: Motivational Speaker. Who knew?

"But we can stand against her," there was a firmness in my voice. It was a lie. Wasn't it? "We have grown in the years since your last battle with us. We have changed. Become stronger."

And now I allowed my anger to bleed across my skin, allowed the glow to spread across my entirety. I think someone stepped back. All eyes stared at me, the mortal with this hint of magic. This mortal who exuded light.

What better way to fight the darkness than with the light?

"And we _can _stop her," I announced as loudly as I could. "We can or we will die trying! And if you _help_ us, then she need never to even set eyes upon your world again!" I took one final step towards the King, standing tall.

"Tell me what I want to know," I promised, "And you may never need to fear the shadows again."

The world rang with the finality of my words. Loki lifted one eyebrow, curious as to how this would play out. _An interesting tactic, _he admitted.

_Not what you would have done._

_No. _His calculating eyes watched everything, even from an entire realm away. Like he had watched since the very beginning. His mind was working quickly, seeing various outcomes, planning for separate events. If things went right, if things went wrong, if my unconventional methods were taken well or poorly… in any scenario, Loki would be ready. Because fish swim, birds eat, and Loki schemes. The nature of the universe.

I waited for a response in silence, forcing my breathing to stay even and slow. My heartbeat was turning rapid again. It was a struggle to keep my eyes from darting about to the Giant soldiers who surrounded me, to keep my gaze solely on the Jotun King.

And then he laughed.

"Brave words," he announced, stepping out of the shadows at last. I looked him up and down quickly, appraising him. He was tall, even for a Giant, and had a strength to his movements that would not be noticed by most, that would be seen by few. If I were not so well acquainted with many different types of strength, I myself might have missed it. But I could see it with the way he moved, the way he breathed, muscles moving in a sinewy dance along his arms. Snap judgment; he was likely the type of king who was challenged often. His decisions questioned. But any opponents in his way were not tolerated for long and frequently never heard from again.

Not good. Guys who thought more with their muscles than brains, I could work with a lot easier. This guy was going to take a bit of convincing.

"But bravery alone is not enough to stand against the Shadow Child," he said. "And it is often considered a fool's trait."

Now where had I heard _that _one before? But the King was stepping down from his throne, icy stair step by icy stair step, down to the world where I stood. I'd gotten his attention. That was good. Now I just had to keep it.

"I'm not counting on just _bravery,_" I assured him, running my fingers along the silver bracelet on my wrist. "_Believe _me."

"A world of mortals, against the Daughter of Darkness," he said slowly, his eyes narrowing on me. He had an oddly intense stare, for a giant. Then I realized that my opinion of Frost Giants was pretty biased, as I'd learned a majority of the stuff I knew from Loki; and he did not think much of them. But Loki had a pretty freaking intense stare of his own; and _he _was one of them. I shifted my view; I wasn't talking to someone like Thor (or like he _would_ be, if he had a single mean bone in his body). I was talking with someone like _Loki _now.

"I see one clear victor," he warned me. He did not lean over to stare at my eye level, but rather kept my gaze while still standing tall. It was starting to hurt my neck, looking up at him all the time, but I held that intense stare, anyway, despite his words, despite his ominous manner, despite his dark tones.

"Can you guess who that victor is, little mortal?"

Little, huh? Meh, I let that one slide. And the 'mortal' thing wasn't the insult it used to be, not to me. To be honest, I was way too used to it by now.

I tilted my head to the side, scanning his red eyes intently. I didn't take my eyes off of his, but in my peripheral vision, I could see something… odd. He was getting stiffer beneath my stare, trying to stand taller… yes, he was used to challenges, I could tell. He was trying to be more intimidating. He was handling this like an old pro, his fingertips flexing just slightly, ice beginning to trickle down inside of them, to form some kind of weapon…

And yet, there was the oddest look on his face. Like he couldn't quite believe that his most recent challenger was… well, _me. _A little itty bitty mortal female. I might have had a weird glow and a sense of magic about me, but it would have been weak, faint. They would think me relatively powerless.

He must have thought I was suicidal. But there was respect on his face nonetheless, no matter how he hid it. I kept my head tilted, then took a single, small step forwards. It took me within close range of the King; he could stab me at any moment. If I was armed, I could have done the same.

My voice was oddly, serenely, unnervingly quiet as I said, "You say that you see one clear victor." I kept my hands limp at my sides, not clenched in fists. I kept my muscles relaxed, despite how survival instinct was screaming at me to be prepared for a fight. The one thing that I _did _keep a tight lid on was the one thing that he could not see; my emotions. If this went south, I wanted to have the shield ready and armed _immediately. _

"But you have not seen everything," I promised. "How long has it been since you were last on Midgard, your majesty? A thousand years? You may live long enough lives to remember it, but those who battled with you on my world are long since dead. Generations have passed. And humanity has grown."

I took a step back this time, a contemplative gesture, though I did not take my eyes off of him. The strange respect that I seemed to have earned had not diminished from his face.

"In the case of a small number," I said in a measured tone, "It has grown beyond what you could have ever imagined. Grown, to the point, that each man-or woman- would be tantamount to what you consider to be one of our armies."

"And if you wish to see that we stand a chance- a slim chance, perhaps, but a chance- against Fraye…" I thought I saw one of the Giants flinch in my peripheral vision as I spoke her name once more. "Then you need look no further."

I didn't close my eyes, but I took a deep breath, focusing. Fear and anger, mixing and swirling about inside of me. It was just that simple. But this time I had to think on it, to _concentrate. _Because this time, it wasn't about having an invisible shield to fight against physical enemies. It was about having a very _visible _one, to combat against any doubt in their minds.

It was difficult to maintain the image of my shield, and in spite of the ice and snow around me, I felt sweat breaking out on the back of my neck, beading in tiny droplets on my forehead. But it was totally worth it; as the bubble flared away from me, it remained in its Tesseract-blue state, a shimmering field of energy that I soon wrapped around myself, so that it shielded me from head to toe, clinging to me, just the barest centimeter above my skin. I allowed it to fade from sight, wincing just slightly as it vanished into invisibility, though it was still very much present.

All eyes were on me again; and some had gone wide. This was a magic foreign to them; foreign to anyone. It was new. It was different. And it might just be powerful enough to stop a destroyer of worlds. If we were all very lucky.

"I may just be a mortal," I concluded. "But I am not powerless. And the very fact that I know of her, the very fact that I am standing against her… is that not enough? Do we not have the same foe? Am I not the enemy of your enemy?"

The Jotun King studied me for a very, very long time. The silence was deafening, echoing and reverberating through my ear drums, loud and crashing and terrible. The kind of silence that exists between stars, that lingers in the abyss of space. I could feel his guards, his soldiers, preparing for another strike. Preparing to fight that which was unknown.

But Big Boss Man was no idiot. I might have just been another mortal, but I was a mortal who knew about Fraye. A mortal who knew about their greatest fear. And so he turned away and ordered, "You will come with me." He paused. Then, looking over his shoulder, he added, "I will give you the knowledge you seek."

I gave him a slow, deep nod; so low that it was almost a bow. "Thank you, your majesty."

Who says I'm not good with politics? I can be the perfect little Pizza Ambassador.

The two of us walked in silence as the Jotuns dispersed slowly. I didn't look back at them as I went, and the King did not look back at me, did not see if I was following; whether it was because he could hear my footsteps in the snow or because he really didn't actually care if I followed or not was a mystery; but it was of no consequence.

Our journey towards wherever we were going ended up taking far longer than I'd anticipated; you'd think that we'd be out of the city, but I could still see Giants everywhere; and the occasional Giantess; something I'd never seen before. Like the men, the women were surprisingly… magnificent. They held themselves with the same regality Asgardians did, the same inherent strength. I guessed it was an immortal thing; not specifically localized to any planet, or to royal families.

For the most part, we were silent as we walked. I started to wonder if the King having his back on me meant something else, too; and Loki was quick to remind me that it was.

_To have a warrior turn their back on you suggests that they do not fear you. In many cases, it is an insult. In yours… I am not certain. _

I frowned, looking at the Frost Giant's back. It didn't _feel _like an insult. 'More like an I-dare-you-to-try-something'.

"You said that the son of Laufey sent you," Big Boss Man spoke up after a long time; he'd been silent for so long, and I'd been concentrating so hard, that when he spoke I actually jumped.

"Huh? Oh, yes." I composed myself quickly. "He and I are…"

Um… awkward. What the heck _were _we? How to describe it in a single word that the Jotuns would understand?

"Allies," I said after a moment, then paused. "He was not keen on returning to Jotunheim," I added carefully. There. Get the worry that Loki wanted the throne out of the picture. "And as it was not _his _planet that was under siege, but mine, he thought it more fitting for me to be the one to ask for assistance." There. Smudging the truth a little bit, but it was close enough.

"And why is he interested in the affairs of Midgard?" The King looked to me at last; I took it as a cue that I was now allowed the honor of walking beside him and did so quickly, so that the two of us could look at each other if necessary. I kept my eyes off of him, allowing him to study me. Though the bubble was still active-invisible, but active- I had arrived unarmed, and was even now relaxed and at ease. There would be no signs of attack from me.

"If he has no interest in Jotunheim, then why would he be interested in a planet of mortals?" He was putting pieces together, trying to figure out what didn't fit. Because _something _didn't. But then, nothing ever 'fit' when it came to Loki.

"He isn't," I answered. Because I could _make _everything fit if I had to. I was giving him no reason to doubt me. "His only concern is stopping Fraye. And as she currently resides on Earth, so does he. No other reason."

There was silence. And then the real questions began.

"And the Shadow Child… do you fear her?"

I blinked. Okay. I knew this was a test. I didn't know _how _I knew, but I knew. Those questions about Loki, they were nothing. They were just to make me used to answering his questions on command. This was the real test.

I swallowed and phrased my words carefully. "I can not afford to," I answered. "Fraye has declared herself on the side of fear. All those who are afraid, serve her. Whether they will it or not." My eyes became flint. "I will not serve that nightmare."

We seemed to have reached the heart of the city when the King finally halted. His eyes scanned me again; but if it _was _a test, then it seemed I had passed. He gestured with one slow sweep of the hand towards a large building, carved out of ice and rock. Well, I say 'building'. 'Cave' is probably a more accurate term; a little curved arch, tucked away in the smallest corner of shining ice and dull grey stone. A gaping hole of a mouth lay in complete darkness beyond that archway.

I followed the King's commands, and he walked beside me again. Interesting. So he was allowed to turn his back on me, but I was not allowed to turn mine on _him._ I tucked the information away in my head and made sure to adjust my movements accordingly.

I glanced at the Jotun King out of the corner of my eye as the two of us stepped inside. The gloom almost immediately overtook his face, swallowing his features whole; all that was visible was that which was shown by my glow, which he gestured for me to extinguish. Hesitantly, I obeyed; we were both in the dark now, but I suspected that he could see better than I could. He could probably off me right now, if so inclined. Maybe he knew that. Maybe he knew that _I _knew that.

"You speak her name very freely," his voice in the black emptiness made me jump again. I was getting a little more skittish now that I was in the dark. Why would information on a shadow-loving creature be surrounded by such darkness? Would it not be easier for her to destroy such information, if it was indeed here? "For one who claims to have met her," his words were measured, even, calculating. The hair on the back of my neck was standing up, and Loki's mind was whirring very quickly, flickering through strategies at blinding speeds. Something felt wrong.

"I won't fear a name," I responded after a moment of thought. "Even hers."

"There is a difference between bravery and recklessness." His words had gotten darker. More dangerous. I was suddenly very certain that he was still considering whether or not to kill me; but I suspected that he wanted information from me as much as I wanted it from him.

"If you do not fear her," He concluded, "Then you underestimate her."

"Do you still doubt me, your majesty?" It seemed that the cold of Jotunheim was permeating my voice. In frosted, sparkling tones, my words poured out of me, joining the air with the sound of my echoing footsteps. "Do you doubt that I have seen her? Do you think that I am taking her presence on my world lightly?" I could feel my heart hardening, my usual flaming anger cooling down, so that the molten magma could solidify into stone.

"Before she came to my world I had a father who loved me. I had a brother who always smiled." I closed my eyes, the memory of Thor's dead eyes creeping into my head, as they did every time I allowed my eyes to shut. "I had a friend who…" I trailed off. I didn't even want to think about Clint. But the words were coming out of me anyway. "Who would have protected me with his very life. Who protected me from my greatest danger: myself. Now, I have a father who despises me, a brother who lives half a life, and a man who would kill me without a second thought. Fraye has not even begun her slaughter, but blood is already in all eyes." My voice seemed to have dropped an octave. Despite the all-consuming darkness, I could see my breath in front of my face. "I do not underestimate her. But I do not fear her." My fists clenched. "I _despise _her."

"I remember that tale."

The sound of a third voice made both Loki and I jump; particularly as it was a female's voice, light and airy, and we were already made nervous by the darkness. I'd expected Fraye to jump out of every shadowed corner; and while I was insistent that I didn't fear her, my survival instincts were still jammed on red alert.

But this voice wasn't like Fraye's. It was less sugary and more… ethereal. In a spooky, haunting, just-came-out-of-the-pitch-black-darkness sort of way.

Another figure appeared in the gloom. I could barely make out a feminine form; but any identifying features were blurred and indistinct. The king stopped in his tracks, and I followed his lead, halting.

"The screaming of the one who lost her son… and the man who once loved her, now with only scorn in his eyes… these are the things that Fraye has done, the same tired tale in your bones…"

The figure took a step forwards. I didn't take my eyes off of it, though I was tempted to glance towards Big Boss Man to see if this was what he had expected. But, as he wasn't saying anything, I guessed that it was.

And then I felt it. In my head; cold fingers that reached inside of my mind and started to flick through my thoughts. Telepathy. Immediately, reflexively, Loki and I converged together, forming a tight, unbreakable barrier; black, fiery walls that could not be touched.

It was an odd sort of telepathy that tested our walls; clunky, unwieldy. The mental warfare of one who is unused to having a true telepathic opponent. It was not like Fraye's unnoticed touch, where you did not realize that she was in your mind until it was far too late, and she knew all about you. Nor was it like Loki's; these were both very intense, very powerful forms of telepathy. Whatever this Giantess-I assumed, by her stature and where I was, that she _was _a Giantess- had… it was far more primitive.

But now she had opened the door; our minds were brushed against each other- not linked, not like Loki's and mine were, but temporarily touching- and I could sense her. Feel her in my head, and reach out and search through hers. We had each others' names and intentions before she had the sense to pull her telepathic touch away from me, before the walls scalded and burned her out of my skull.

She gave a little, quiet gasp. Clearly, she wasn't used to having people sense her when she got in their heads. Well, even unwieldy telepathy wouldn't be detected by most until it was too late. Loki and I were just… an odd exception. Our link made us very powerful in the telepathy area; though I couldn't read other people's minds, woe to anyone who tried to read _ours. _

"The mortal, Natalie Frost," she whispered very quietly. "And the son of Laufey." She turned away. "You have come here in the hope of saving Midgard."

I nodded once, slowly. It was an acknowledgement; this was what she knew of me, now she was probing to see what I had learned of _her _during her momentary lapse. "Iecera, Keeper of Legends." My next nod was so low that it was almost a bow; I wasn't sure how well that would be received by Big, Blue, and Kingly beside me, but in that brief moment of telepathic contact, my respect had been earned. This Giantess deserved more respect than the entire planet combined probably did.

After all, she remembered.

"And the son of Laufey is not currently with me," I pointed out gently. Not that she would have been able to tell. She was blind, after all; relying on other's minds to paint the world around her into clarity. I had deprived her of her senses by forcing her out of my head like that. But I couldn't afford for the Frost Giants to find out who the son of Laufey really was; and what he had done to their world. Or, you know. Tried to do.

Iecera's head tilted to the side; I could see the movement, but only barely. It was no wonder she lived in the darkness. What use would she have of light? "And yet," she said slowly, "He never leaves you."

I smiled, a quirky little gesture. "Also true," I admitted. The king had all but been forgotten. The king knew nothing of power; because there was power in the pure, raw survival that lingered in this Giantess' blue blood. There was no power in the throne, not when compared to the power behind seeing Fraye and living to tell the tale. And of course, telling that tale, over and over again.

"You know of her?" Big Boss Man seemed surprised as he asked me this. I shook my head no.

"I know when someone is in my thoughts," I corrected. "It's… difficult to explain."

Before he could respond, Iecera turned to the king and gave him a low, sweeping bow. "I know of what you wish, your majesty." She said, again in her cold, ethereal voice. "If I may speak with the mortal alone…?"

He nodded curtly; the gesture was violent enough to see in the dark. He turned to me. "You will return when you have finished," he ordered. Yep, it _was _an order. I let it slide; he didn't have to be polite and political to _me. _I was a good, civil little human. I wasn't going to take offense at anything. Mostly because I'd heard a lot worse in my lifetime. "We have much to discuss."

"Of course," I agreed easily, giving him a half-bow. I hated bowing to people, I really did, but it was better than a full-fledged kneel or some crap. He turned around, dismissing me easily. I wasn't that important. And yet I was. Ever the enigma.

Then, suddenly, he halted. He turned back to me. I could partially see his ruby eyes. "If you truly mean to stand against her," he said after a brief second's contemplation. "Then perhaps you are worthy of your name, Child of Frost."

The words sent a little chill through me as he turned and walked away again. Child of Frost. I could get used to that one. A stupid little grin crossed my face; but it was soon wiped away by the grimness in the shadows around me.

Iecera and I waited until the King's footsteps had receded down the dark, ice-and-stone hall before we spoke again. The sounds had long stopped echoing against the walls when I spoke up again.

"My greatest condolences," I said genuinely, turning to her. "For your eyes; and for your son."

In those few seconds that I'd been pressed against her thoughts, I'd learned far more about her than she had about me. But it was still limited; I knew that she had been alive during Fraye's last attack. I knew that she had lost her son-and her eyesight- in the battle. I knew that she was the only one left alive, and the only one left telling the stories. She was countless thousands of years old; and, generation after generation, she had been pouring her story into the minds of those children sent to her, forced to listen, to hear this history so that it need never be repeated. Or, if it was, than at least these children would know to run.

And she had learned a little of my link with Loki. She knew that I had most definitely seen Fraye- the creature from her past, the nightmare that had slaughtered her son in cold blood. And she knew exactly what I wanted to know.

"Your search has been in vain, Natalie Frost," she did not waste words. When you're that old, I suspect you don't have many to waste. Nor reasons to waste them. "You seek a way to destroy Fraye."

My ears pricked. So Iecera referred to her by her real name. That was interesting; the one who had the greatest to fear from her was the one who feared her least. But then, the same could be said about _me_.

"It can not be done by mortal hands," she went on. "Nor by any magic or weapon known to Jotunheim, nor any realm known. You have wasted your time."

What happened to Mrs. Polite? You know, the Giantess who had been here moments ago? Her words now were blunt and near hostile. I stood my ground. "It's my time to waste. There has to be _something._ Anything. Anything that you can tell me."

When she did not respond, I prodded, "How did you get her off of Jotunheim in the first place? You defeated her once; and we can do it again!"

Iecera looked away. I could see it better now; my eyes were adjusting very well to the dark. "We did not defeat her."

"Then why aren't you _all _dead?" I demanded, surprised by how harsh my voice had become suddenly. "If Fraye was not defeated all those years ago… then why does Jotunheim still live?"

There was a very, very long silence. It was one of those ringing silences, those, _some-serious-shit-is-about-to-go-down _kind of silences, filled with impending doom… I swallowed painfully. Something was wrong. I don't know how I knew that, but there was something very wrong with whatever it was that Iecera was not telling me.

"Has she offered you her 'deal' yet?" Iecera asked, her voice suddenly very, very quiet. "Her pact, her promise?"

My eyebrows furrowed. "What…? No. No, I don't… don't think so." I was taken aback, trying to remember. Fraye _had _said something to me about a deal the day before; but it was about the deal that I had made with Loki; or the one that I had suggested. Iecera smiled sadly.

"You would remember," she assured me. There was quiet for a very long moment. "She offered to spare our world. To leave Jotunheim. But her offer came with… conditions."

Her tone immediately had my spine stiffening, locking into place. "What 'conditions'?" I asked warily.

She studied me for a long moment; even though I knew that she could not see me, I felt her fractured red gaze on me at all times. Then, slowly, she turned around, turned away from me. She gestured for me to follow with one hand, and I did so with extreme caution. Something wasn't right. Something was _very _not right. My heart was pounding in my throat and my stomach was tied in knots somewhere down by my feet, but I managed to force those feet forwards somehow, managed to move forwards, to follow the Giantess into the gloom.

Iecera led me deeper into the cave; it was a longer walk than I'd anticipated. My fingers flexed, in and out of loose fists. I did not fear an attack, not even from this Giantess; my bubble was still very much flared, ready and anticipating any type of assault. But I _did _fear her words, and what she could tell me.

I was right to fear them.

The two of us walked deeper into the cave, with Loki watching through my eyes. As we descended into the darkness, I noticed something… odd. In simple terms; the 'darkness' that we were descending into was not 'dark' at all. In fact, as we went on, the entire cave seemed to be getting lighter and lighter.

I swallowed painfully as I kept moving, my feet like lead. My mind was buzzing; Fraye had offered a deal to the Jotuns to save their planet. It had to be something awful and, given the way that Iecera had looked at me almost guiltily, I had to assume it involved me in some way. Well, not _me _personally, but humanity in general.

We finally emerged in what I assumed was our final destination; an extension of the cave-which was really more like a tunnel- that took my breath away. The entire place had been carved out of the rock, chipped away piece by piece by Jotun hands. I was certain it was not a natural formation; it was far too symmetrical for that. But that wasn't the impressive part.

Because now I saw where the light had come from.

The symbols were everywhere; line upon carefully written line of Jotun text, words of another language set aglow by some substance I couldn't name. There was definitely magic about it; but it seemed to be a magic that was deeply ingrained inside of whatever this substance- I suspected it was a type of metal- was. The glow was soft, a light blue-green. The color was as pale as the Tesseract's, but with a hue that was just slightly more teal. My eyes darted along the words, catching the symbols that had been carved onto Loki's back again and again, seeing them written a thousand times over on these walls. The Child of Shadow; her name, surrounded on all sides by her stories.

And there, beneath our feet, a single symbol, large enough to cover the entirety of the cave floor. It would have no other equal, but from what I could piece together of it, its meaning came off pretty clearly. This was Fraye's name, as it would be written down in Jotun text, if the Jotuns ever dared to write it out. I suspected that not many would; particularly with how greatly they feared even saying the word aloud.

This was the place that Iecera protected, as the Keeper of Legends. For this was a place filled with such legends. Fraye's every last tale, written directly after they had happened, once it had been realized what she was, so that she would never be forgotten…

And now I saw Iecera herself; I fought the quiet gasp that tried to slip out of my lips. She was very clearly old; older than a majority of Jotuns, I assumed, what with them being such an aggressive, war-loving species _(But then, _I thought, so that Loki wouldn't take that too harshly, _that's how the Asgardians are, too). _Her face had a number of wrinkles and her hair was a paler white than the snow outside; an odd-yet-interesting contrast with her dark blue skin. Her red eyes were almost pink, they were so clouded and pale, the color leeched from them by her sightlessness. Her line of sight hovered just a fraction of an inch above my shoulder.

But this had been expected. I knew that she was thousands of years old. I knew that she was blind.

I hadn't known about all of the scars, though.

They were immediately identifiable; I had seen a great number of Shadow Scars in the days since I had first met Fraye, so that even with her blue skin and blood, I recognized them. The darker scabs, the blackness beneath the skin, the bubbling, burnt-looking edges, all ravaging her face that I'm certain was once very beautiful. But Fraye had marred that beauty, as Fraye will mar all beauty; all light and life and reason and love and anything that any world will hold dear, Fraye would destroy. I needed no more proof of that; she had already destroyed the heart of a man whom I knew had more light in him than I could ever hope to achieve.

I kept the shock bottled away and hidden. Why was I surprised? She had seen Fraye. Just as Loki had; and Loki had certainly not made it away unscathed. Why would anyone else?

Iecera gestured with one careful hand towards a very specific legend on the wall. How, exactly, she knew where it was… well, that was a mystery to me. But I assumed that it was because it was such familiar territory. I glanced to her for a moment, my eyes flicking up and down her entirety before I stepped up to said legend; the tail end of a thousand others, the final one inscribed on the walls.

It did not take me long to read it through. It took me longer to read through the second time, to be certain that I was correct. And even longer to go through it the third and final time; this time, because I was struggling so hard to blink away the tears.

_Of course she did. _

_Of. Freaking. Course. _

Because she was Fraye. And she was a sadistic bitch from another world, intent on making everyone just as crazy and sadistic as she was; and if she could not do that, then everyone just had to die, instead. So why did this deal surprise me? Why had I underestimated her intense, infinite ability to make me sick?

I stepped back, away from the legend inscribed in light on the wall of stone. Loki was completely silent. He was not quite stunned, not like I was… but his usual weapons of retaliation-words- seemed to have failed him entirely. Hell, he didn't even have a single coherent _thought_ with which he could respond to such a revelation.

My eyes closed, and I swallowed as salt water caught in my eyelashes. _Why else would the Jotuns attack Earth? _I asked him. _Why else would you step on an anthill, and risk that your foot get bitten and stung?_

Loki synced up with my thoughts, his own beginning to weave and dance around mine, our minds buzzing along, a unified chorus. _Why else would they risk war with Earth's protectors? _He agreed with me. _Why else would they battle so fiercely with Asgard, just for control over such a small world?_

And then we were thinking together: _Unless their world's very survival depended on the destruction of another? _

This was the deal that Fraye had made. This was the promise that she had given. If Jotunheim declared war on- and eventually destroyed- Earth, then it would be spared. If it committed pure and absolute genocide against the human race, if the Jotuns spilled red across the stars themselves, then they would be spared. They would be allowed their lives.

And if not… then she would be free to return. And it was not just their lives that she would seek, would hunt. It was everything that gave life any meaning; joy, love, laughter, all that cheesy goodness that made life worth something. That made it worth _fighting _for.

I swallowed again, fighting against the dry lump in my throat. "When did the deadline pass?" I asked in a quiet voice; for they would not fear her so greatly if it had not. They would think that they were safe, for now.

"Two centuries ago," Iecera answered in her quiet, ethereal voice. "Fraye swore that she would return some time after that, if Midgard had not been vanquished."

A weight settled itself on my shoulders and chest, pressing all of the air out of my lungs, forcing it out in a deep, heavy sigh. I ran my hands down my face, trying with intense difficulty to keep the frustrated, enraged scream bottled up inside of my lungs.

"So you see, mortal," Iecera said in a quiet voice, "We did not defeat her. We delayed her; and it was not by our doing." She looked away, blind eyes staring at the symbol on the floor. Fraye's name, her true name, the name that was surrounded by fear, the name of the murderer and nightmare that came for you in the dark. The creeping disease that had been swallowing our universe for millennia without our knowledge, and would continue to do so if we did not stop her here and now.

"You have come here for nothing," she finished. "If she has come to your world, then there is nothing that can be done to stop her. We are all going to die." She said this with the flat affect of a person who has long ago stopped giving a crap about life and death. A person who has long ago _lost_ all of those wonderful, cheesy things that made life worth something. A person who has lost love. Who has forgotten joy. Who no longer knows how to laugh.

My head lowered. My jaw clenched.

And then I stepped forward and began to scan the legends once again. Began reading. Searching.

Iecera must have heard the movement. Must have realized what I was doing. "It is pointless, daughter of Midgard." She told me. "There is nothing that you can do." Her hand fell on my shoulder. "Return home. Be with the ones you love."

I froze beneath her grip. I took a deep breath in through my nose, letting it out in a slow cloud from my mouth, watching it mist over in the chilled air. My hand rested against the light-infused metal of the walls, the words that had been written there.

"Tell me, Iecera, Keeper of Legends," I said; and my words were so dark that I had a hard time believing that they were coming out of my mouth. Fire had met ice once more; and I would melt the entire world around me before I would ever let _anyone _tell me to _give up. _

"Do you really think that your son died, just so that you could live a few more years?" I demanded. Iecera's blind eyes widened. "Do you think that your husband fell in battle, just so that you could give up on your world a few thousand years later? 'Oh, well, we've had a good run, time to pack up our stuff and die quietly!'"

She took a step back. I turned to her slowly, every movement sending painful sparks through my joints.

"They are _buried _in this ice," I _felt _the words resounding in the cave around me, echoes that reverberated deep inside of me, echoes that originated from me and returned to me, over and over again. "They are buried _beneath _this world, and by all that is _right _and _just _in the nine realms, it is your _duty _as the one who has survived them to make certain that they _stay _buried beneath it!" I took a step towards her. She took another step back.

"Or do you truly believe that you have recited these stories- these, the worst of your memories- again and again, for _no reason?" _I demanded. "If that is the case, then you have lived a very sad and empty life, Iecera; and for that, I _pity _you."

This was, perhaps, the greatest strike, the most painful blow against her pride. Jotuns were not meant to be pitied by mortals. They were Giants; and they stood far above humanity. Even above its greatest, they stood.

"I, on the other hand," I said, turning back to the writing on the wall, "Will not rest until I can be certain that everyone I love, and everyone I have _ever _loved, is safe. Alive or dead, I will make them safe. Or I will _die trying." _I glanced to her over my shoulder. "Because if I _am _going to die, then I will not do it lying down and whimpering like a coward!"

_Nor I, _Loki agreed with me softly, though his words would not be heard here. It didn't matter. _I _heard them.

For a moment, Iecera seemed unable to respond. I kept reading. I was done. As much as I was tip-toeing around politeness, I was _done _with giving up, I was _done _with being afraid, I was _done _with all of this. I hadn't realized how much crap I'd been putting up with back at home until that moment; what with my parents doubting my decision to bring Loki to Earth, and the Avengers constantly flip-flopping between thinking I was their friend and their foe, and Clint… Well, Clint just hated me. And I was sick of it. Sick of _putting up _with _crap._ That was it. It was over. The end.

Maybe it would get me killed. Maybe the Jotuns would take it out on humanity. But it wasn't like we weren't at war already; and with a foe far more powerful than any of them.

"You have a sharp tongue, for a mortal," Iercera growled; there was a dark, dangerous venom in her words. From what I'd learned from her mind, I knew better than to underestimate her. She'd earned my respect before she had lost it. But I didn't even turn to her, didn't even look away from the stories that she had painstakingly inscribed on these walls, to be remembered even long after she had died.

"And you have a weak will," I snapped in response. "For a _Giantess._"

"Do you think yourself brave?" Iecera demanded of me. "You are a _fool. _You can not stand against her! The longer you try, the worse it will become for you! She takes her pleasure in breaking a spirit; you, of all people, should know this!"

"You know what, maybe I am a fool! But at least I didn't _let _her break my spirit! I didn't _let _her win!"

"You know not of what you speak, mortal!" She cried, ice trickling down her fingertips, forming into a spiked weapon; some type of mace, I guessed. See if I cared. "I lost _everything _to her!"

"Then why aren't you _taking it back in her __**blood? **_Why aren't you _avenging them?_"

"Because she can not be killed! The only thing strong enough to destroy her is-"

I smirked as she cut herself off. For a long moment, she stayed in stunned silence; how had I done that? How had I gotten the words from her, words which she had so clearly not been intending to speak?

"Is…?" I prodded, a little bit smug. Something I'd learned from Natasha (or rather, something that _Loki _had learned from her): people tended to lose control of their tongues, if you got them emotionally ranting. She'd done it to Loki in his glass cage, years ago. And now I was using the tactic. It was amazingly effective; even when I hadn't really been aware that I was using it.

Iecera seemed… bewildered. She blinked. And then, as the shock began to wear away, she sighed heavily.

"Fraye spoke many times of the war that took her world," she said in a quiet voice. "But more often, she called it a 'plague'. I believe that, on her world, the two were one in the same. A disease took hold of her planet. A disease which made her, and all others of her kind, lose control of that which made them more powerful than any other creature."

"Their shadow ability," I guessed in a soft tone. She nodded in a sad, almost pathetic way. In that moment, I felt sorry for her. In many ways, I was lucky; I hadn't yet 'lost' anyone to Fraye, not in the way she had. The damage that had been done could- mostly- be reversed. There would be a few scars- emotional or physical, they would be there- but it could be healed. My life could be fixed. Hers couldn't.

"I… I _believe _that they lost control of the shadows. That the darkness swallowed her world; and that she was the only survivor."

For a long moment, I allowed myself to imagine that. Fraye, standing amid her world as it burned, as everyone- all of these people who loved each other, who were _forced _to care about each other, who knew everyone's thoughts and feelings and memories just as intimately as I knew Loki's- screamed, as they were forced to take the lives of those they cared about, because they had lost control over the shadows, and now those shadows were descending… Darkness falling as a planet burned, until there was only one left, a woman-or a child- alone in the night, alone in the universe…

If my power killed Loki, or his killed me… how would we feel?

And the entire planet had fallen to this disease… Was Fraye immune to it? Had it run its course? She seemed to have control over her powers now, at least…

"The only thing powerful enough to kill the Shadow Child is Fraye herself," Iecera finished; her voice had returned to its gentle, unearthly tones. There was no more anger in it, no more rage. It was just… empty. Sad. Ethereal.

"Shadow control is just another type of magic," I objected, surprised by how weak the protest was. "You are capable of this; the _Asgardians _are capable of-"

_Not to this magnitude, _Loki cut me off. I fell silent; Iecera seemed to take it to mean that I had realized the stupidity of my words. _No where near it. _

I looked down. _So it is hopeless. _

_Will that stop you?_

_Has it ever stopped me before?_

He smiled carefully. I looked up to Iecera.

"Thank you," I said; and I meant it. "For your time. And for everything else."

She nodded once. I straightened and headed towards the exit. "But now… I must speak with your king."

* * *

What little I had left to discuss with the Jotun King was pure politics; nothing of any consequence. Mostly reassurances from both me and Iecera that, yes, Fraye had indeed come to Midgard, and they had to be prepared. After a while, Loki suggested that I fade into the background, and I had obeyed, vanishing into the shadows as the King was barking out commands, preparing his world's defenses. He would not allow his planet to fall. Not so long as he could fight.

He was an interesting person, the Jotun King. Very like Laufey in some respects; but more like Loki in others. He was smart. Smarter than I'd expected. And he was not quite so interested in old wars; though Jotunheim still remained locked in battle with Asgard, he had at least forgotten humanity, eliminated them as any kind of hostile from his mind. But then, what was the point in destroying Earth now? The deadline for Fraye's deal had passed. And while they had enjoyed their safety for two centuries, and perhaps thought that the danger was over… well, now she had returned. And why would they hold onto petty grudges with an even pettier people? There was no reason for it.

Despite everything, despite everything that I had learned today… I realized that I had actually accomplished quite a bit with this little visit. First: I'd learned what had killed off Fraye's planet; and that it was most certainly dead. Second: I'd learned why Fraye had left Jotunheim alive. And while none of these things currently seemed overly helpful, it was still a hell of a lot more than I'd had a few hours ago.

_And, _I reflected to myself as I walked across the frozen waste, _we now know that Fraye would had returned to Jotunheim one way or another. Which means…_

Loki looked away; it seemed such a reflexive gesture, even though I was not in front of him, even though he was looking away from nothing. He knew what that meant. It meant that he was not the only thing that led Fraye to our worlds.

_Feel better about it? _I asked Loki.

_No. _

I half-smiled sadly as I made it to the place where I had arrived. "Well," I announced to the frozen cold; I was all alone now, with no one but Loki, still inside my head. "Beam me up, Scotty."

The corner of Loki's lip twitched upwards, and he held out his hands. Energy wrapped itself around them, twisting and bright and alive and beautiful. It spilled down from his fingertips and ripped open the world, tearing at the fabric of space and time. In front of me, a portal opened; I grinned and stepped through.

Three sluggish steps later, and I was back in Asgard. The portal closed behind me as I clapped eyes on Loki once again. My glow-and my bubble- had both died off, and I could see from his eyes that I looked a little worse for the wear, that my journey had not left me without a few markers. My hair had been mussed by the wind, my boots and the bottoms of my pants were sopping wet, and the smile on my face was more tired than I'd expected.

But despite all of this… I was walking on air. I'd done it. And I'd made it back to Asgard. And no one was the wiser; I'd gone to Jotunheim and gotten away with it.

The enormity of this hit me the instant I laid eyes on Loki, a helium balloon exploding in my chest. A stupid grin took over my face.

"We did it."

He gave me his typical bemused smile. "We did," he agreed.

And then I laughed; it was high-pitched and embarrassingly girlish, a laugh that came back from the days when I was a kid and April and I had just gotten out of a close call with a teacher. Unable to help myself, I wrapped my arms around Loki's waist and squeezed. "We did it!" I squeaked, then laughed again. "We did it, we did it, we did it!"

A dozen conflicting thoughts ran through Loki's mind. Most of them were on the lines of: _Honestly, you are a grown woman, stop behaving like such a child. _But one or two fell along the pattern of: _We did. We truly did. _

After a moment, I released him, still grinning like an absolute idiot. No, we hadn't learned everything we needed to know. No, our worlds' problems had not been solved. But we were further than we had been. And we'd gotten away with it. As much as I hated lying and going behind people's backs, I had to admit, it was an extreme rush when you realized that you'd slipped through the fingers of the law.

After a moment, however, my smile died down. Loki caught on to my train of thought and watched me with careful, oddly melancholic eyes.

_You think they missed us? _I asked, releasing him and trying to shake the weight off of my shoulders by rolling them around a few times. _You think Thor…? _

Loki blinked and turned away. _It has been a number of hours, _he noted slowly. _Perhaps they have. It certainly does not seem characteristic of you, to leave Thor alone while he is… as he is. _

_In pain? _He nodded once at my assessment, and I sighed deeply. _I guess you're right. I don't leave my friends alone. _

He considered. _We can say that we were in the library. I highly doubt we will be contradicted. _

I nodded once. If we were caught in the lie, there could be trouble; that's why I hated lying about things that I didn't know the full situation on. Such as: was there anyone in the library who could attest to the fact that we _weren't _there at the time?

But I couldn't think of a better one, so I nodded, and the two of us walked out of the door.

It turns out, my worries were for naught. And so was my celebration; because the second we walked out of that room, we were greeted by a number of fairly-heavily-armed soldiers, wielding Asgardian weaponry and wearing serious expressions. They had clearly been waiting there for a while; but the instant we exited the room, everyone snapped to attention. One man stepped forwards, and Loki very gently, very subtly directed me behind him, sweeping forwards with his usual, pompous, royal magnificence. I glanced around warily, barely aware of the way that Loki was positioning me, as the man who had separated himself from the line of guards announced, "Odin requires your presence."

And, for the second time that day, Loki and I had the same exact thought at the same exact time:

_Damn._

* * *

"What, exactly, were you thinking, Miss Frost?"

I stood perfectly still as the tirade washed over me. Beside me, Loki did the same. Neither of us spoke a word.

Quite frankly, we were both surprised at where we were; and that Loki hadn't been thrown back in prison (yet). Though Odin had been the one to request our presence, it turned out that he wasn't the one appointed to deal with us and our little excursion on the borderlines of the law. (Or, you know. Whatever you wanted to call the unspoken 'rules' that seemed to follow Loki and I around.) While he was certainly capable of handling us and our insubordinate behavior, Odin hadn't even said a word to us since we'd been busted. Instead, he'd simply handed us back to Earth; and to S.H.I.E.L.D.

Thus, it was currently the _Council, _not Odin, that was chewing us out. An unexpected turn of events, but hey, better than the alternative. Neither Loki nor I was even remotely frightened of the Council; which was more than could be said about his father. While I didn't fear the guy, I _did _have a certain amount of healthy respect for him. Mostly because his power didn't come solely from his position; it came from _what _he was as opposed to just _who _he was. And he was a badass Asgardian King who could probably fry half the people in this room without much thought. Bubble or no, the guy was a force to contend with.

The Council on the other hand… not so much.

One of the shadowed faces began ticking off my list of crimes. "You went into Jotunheim, a planet filled with _hostiles, _without any reinforcements. You discussed matters with their king, _without _any ambassadorial authority. You went behind the backs of not only S.H.I.E.L.D., the organization you serve, but also _Odin, _and _your team."_

"Beyond this, you left out crucial information in the matter of Loki's freedom," a second voice chimed in; a female's. I kept my face blank. Smooth. Neutral. I have no thoughts, no emotions, nothing to say. I am Neutral Natalie.

"We were assured- your _team _was assured- that he could not leave the planet without the aid of the Tesseract," The woman went on. "And yet, clearly, this is not the case."

I felt my eyebrow struggling to lift. _You'd think that would make them more confident that you __**won't **__try and leave, _I said to Loki. _You haven't yet, after all._

_Humans are rather dull creatures, _The Trickster droned. I fought a scowl.

_Not cool, man._

_Present company excluded, of course, _he amended swiftly; in what could or could not have been a lie. Neither of us was really sure.

The Council- and Fury, hovering like a one-eyed vulture in the back of the room- remained ignorant to our exchange. "Well?" One of the men asked. "Do you have _anything _to say for your actions?"

I wanted to shoot a glance towards Loki. I resisted. Any show of familiarity would be taken very badly. Right now, we were co-conspirators. Partners in crime. "I was gathering intelligence," I said smoothly. "Being an _intelligence organization, _I'm certain that you can see the necessity in that."

"You should have come directly to us. There are others more capable of handling-"

"Who?"

Loki's eyes slid onto me, a warning smoldering behind them. I caught his gaze and forced myself to cool off, taking a deep breath and a step back.

"You had no authority. You do not speak on Earth's behalf."

"I didn't try to. I had a meeting with the king on what Fraye is. I barely even talked to the guy; mostly to Iecera." On seeing their blank faces (well, I assumed they were like that, as their faces were blank all of the time), I elaborated, "The Keeper of Legends. She was there the last time Fraye was on Jotunheim."

One of them men gave an exasperated sigh as the woman spoke irritably, "Regardless; there was a great opportunity for an interplanetary incident. You insist on saying that we are at war with this 'Fraye'. And yet you risked starting another with Jotunheim."

For some reason, I found the way she phrased that oddly intriguing. The Council seemed to seldom ask questions: it was always 'you _did _this'. I most definitely _risked _starting war. I _insisted _that we were at war with Fraye. No verifying of information; they believed it had happened this way, they thought that I _risked _and _insisted _and so they would hear no other alternative. An interesting tactic. It was also a very annoying, hostile way of speaking and was kinda grating on my nerves a little bit.

"There was a great possibility that we could gather information on Fraye-who we _are _at war with, whether you believe it or not."

"But that was not your risk to take."

Okay, _now _I bristled. I opened my mouth, very much ready to say, _Oh, really? Pardon me, but __**who **__in this room ordered a nuclear strike against a civilian population? Was it __**your **__risk to take, to sacrifice all of those lives?_

Fortunately for the Council, I was stopped. Loki very gently, very carefully, but very quickly wrapped his hand around my wrist, his cold touch shocking me down to earth as I made as if to advance towards the council, breathing fire. I didn't look to him- that would be too visible- but the gesture held me back. Tugged on the monster's leash and kept it in line.

I took another deep, calming breath, trying to think of soothing things. Relaxing beaches. Stuff like that. After a few moments, I had a calmer, more articulate, more _political _response.

"I did not announce myself as an ambassador. I spoke only for myself and the Son of Laufey." I indicated my head towards Loki as I referred to him by his father's name. "I did not speak for Earth; I did not even mention the Avengers by name. And while there may have been a possibility that the Jotuns would take offense to my words or actions, and taken that out on our world, I believed that the benefits far outweighed the risks. Loki agreed."

"_Loki _agreed?" One of the men latched onto the word. "You seem to forget, Natalie." Using my first name. No longer 'Miss Frost'. When Loki said that, it was a sign that he was trying to be more personal. When this dude did that, it was a sign that I was his lesser; that I was, quite frankly, a child.

"You do not _answer _to Loki," the man continued. "You answer to _us._"

Even standing a few feet away, Loki actually _heard _my jaw clench. _Okay… _I thought. _Now you've pressed my 'Make-Natalie-A-Bitch' button._

Loki gave me another glance, then carefully, _carefully, _took a single step to the side. No more trying to restrain the monster. It was too late. The leash had snapped.

"I," a single step forward accented the word, "Answer to," another step landed at the same time the last syllable did, "_No one._" The third and final step had taken me much closer to the screens than they were probably designed to be viewed. I was directly in the Council member's blacked-out face by now. I had to tilt my head back pretty far to keep my eyes on where his would be, but at the moment, I didn't exactly _care. _

"I am not your _puppet,_" I said each sentence with a quiet, but resounding strength; one that echoed and danced around me just as powerfully as my words had inside of Iecera's legend-filled cave."I am not your _slave. _I am not your _bitch." _Loki's eyebrows shot straight up. It had been a while since he'd seen me this mad. At humans, anyway.

"You think that you can pull my strings and make me dance?" These words were low in volume, but snarled out, purely animal. Purely monstrous. "I write your reports, I monitor the Avengers, but if you think for one _second _that you own my _mind, _then you've got another think _coming, _pal. _My _decisions are _my own." _I took another step towards the screen, my legs brushing up against the computer console. I could go no further. My eyes were burning.

"And really, what are you going to _do _to me?" I demanded in a hiss. "_Fire _me? _Arrest _me? _**Kill **_me? Go ahead. I dare you. Kill me before Fraye beats you to it." My eyes flashed. "I did what was best for _my planet. _For _my world. _For _your _world, for that matter!" My voice was still mostly quiet. But my words were still dangerous. "And I'm gonna do what is best, over and over again, until you get it through your thick skulls that I don't give a _shit _what _**you**__ think. _I will do _anything _and_ everything _in my power to stop Fraye, to save the Earth, and if that means defying _you, _then _so be it._"

For a second, I remained there, staring up at them with wild eyes. I could actually _taste _my own anger.

And then Loki's hand fell on my shoulder, gently tugging me backwards. I allowed him to do so, giving the Council one final glare as I took my place beside him once more. The monster was still burning bright and alive, but the rant had allowed some of that heat to slip away; enough so that Loki's actions could put an icy collar around the creature once again, keep it in line. I took a few shaky breaths, trying to retain an illusion of calm once more. I'd kept from shouting, kept myself from saying a lot worse… but only barely. And my eyes were still shooting sparks when one of the Council Members found his voice again.

His tone was very dangerous; but to me, it sounded pathetic. This was a man who saw lives as numbers, who had filed the whole world into categories and shuffled it away with the paperwork. He was a grey man with a grey life. He was empty and hollow, and saw lines of text coming from the mouth of a paper girl. He did not see life and color; he saw words and lines. He was not dangerous. He knew _nothing _of danger. He merely gave the orders that got other people killed. But those orders did not touch him.

"You may not believe that you answer to us, Natalie." Again, reducing my name. My title.

"Miss Frost," I corrected him in a chilly tone.

I was ignored. "But _he," _the man gestured to Loki as he said this; they had not addressed the Trickster directly even once. Maybe they were too proud. Maybe they were too furious. Or maybe they were too _afraid. _"Answers to his father."

"His father's dead," I said flatly. Even Loki winced at that one. "So he answers to a dead man, does he?"

I was again ignored. Perhaps they were afraid of me, too.

The woman finished the man's sentence. I wondered how they communicated their decisions to each other; but it was a far-away fancy, not even a full-fledged thought. "We are handing jurisdiction over your case to Odin. His decision, whatever it may be, will be final for you both."

In other words: 'You're Asgard's problem now'.

"And Natalie," one of the men- one who hadn't really spoken until this point- talked directly to me. "You're fired."

"Really?" I lifted my eyebrows. "Good. Then I can-"

Loki shook his head. I scowled and forced myself to swallow the words 'do this'. I pinned my arm to my side and clenched it in a fist to keep me from raising the one-fingered salute.

_It would be in rather poor taste, _he reminded me in his usual logic-y way. I mimicked him in my head childishly, a high-pitched mockery: _It would be in rather poor taste._

He looked down his nose at me as the screens turned black. Fury stepped up next to us, a hand falling on my shoulder. His grip was unnecessarily tight.

"Tell me it was worth it," he ordered me. No muss, no fuss. Right to the point.

"Define 'worth it'."

He gave me a one-eyed glare. "Do you know how to stop her, or not?"

Loki and I exchanged a look. "We know more than we did," I responded after a moment. "And maybe that's enough."

His gaze was oddly intense as he said, "I hope you're right."

* * *

"I shall give you both one opportunity to explain your actions."

It was the first thing that Odin said to us. The moment we entered the room, these were his first words. There was anger on his face, it's true… but there was a heavy disappointment in his eye that made my heart sank, my stomach twist. It was like being a kid all over again; getting caught with your hand stuck in the cookie jar, dragged before your parents and told to say you were sorry.

And it was a thousand times worse for Loki.

I can not even begin to describe to you how painful it was for him to stand here, before his father, like this. He had, of course, been in this position before; the day that Thor had taken him back to Asgard, after his invasion of Manhattan. He had been brought here as a prisoner and a failure, bound in chains, that hideous metal gag in his mouth. And while this was certainly a watered-down repeat of that event… it still stirred up some very dark memories.

When Odin said this, Loki and I looked to each other. Our thoughts brushed against each other; we didn't quite have a 'conversation', per se, but in that instant, a thousand different responses flashed through our minds, a million considerations as to what, exactly, our decision was and _who, _exactly, was to blame.

I had been the one to suggest the whole thing. But then again, Loki hadn't exactly fought me on the idea; he'd thought it was a decent plan. And better than what we'd had before. I had been the one to do things blindly, recklessly, spurred on by my anger, by the look on Thor's face…

But then, Loki had been the one to open the portal; something he wasn't supposed to do, and (according to most human sources) something he wasn't supposed to be _able _to do. He had helped me along. He had shielded me from Heimdal. He was a willing accomplice; one could even go so far as to pin the blame on him. It would certainly be easier for everyone.

The bitterness that filled him as he thought that hurt me worse than I thought it would. Being around his father really brought out the worst in him. That was something I hadn't noticed that much before; mostly because, unlike Thor, Odin did not visit Loki quite so often in prison. And when he did, I now remembered, it always made for a very difficult session the next time I came by. But then, Odin was the king. His time was limited; he had duties to perform.

He also had a damn _son _to take care of.

But I forced these thoughts aside, out of _both _of our heads. They would do us no good. Loki and I looked back to the old king as one, then Loki lifted his head. He took a step forwards, the words building inside of his throat; coated in arrogance, so that it would appear as though he was proud of what he was about to say, proud of the wrong that he was claiming the guilt for.

Before it could come out of his mouth, however, I took _two _steps forwards, surpassing him. "It was my idea," I announced firmly. "I knew that Fraye was a Jotun legend. I suggested that we go to Jotunheim. I convinced Loki to open the portal, and to shield me from Heimdal. He was completely against the idea." I forced myself to meet Odin's stare as I said, "I take sole responsibility for everything."

I felt Loki's eyes boring holes on the side of my face; after a moment, he turned back to Odin; who had turned his accusatory stare towards Loki. The Trickster did not say a word to contradict me.

"Is this true?" Odin asked of his adopted son.

I wasn't sure why he asked Loki this. Loki believed that he was a lie; and he never believed it more firmly than when he was in his father's presence. So did he honestly expect the _truth _to come from a lie's lips? Loki was his greatest deceit; a living, breathing deception. And so of course he responded in the only way he knew how; though not before he double-checked my posture, my stance. He knew how to read my gestures better than anyone; and even if he did not have this link in my head, he would have known that I was beyond certain of what I was doing.

"Aye," Loki answered his adoptive father. What was one more deception? Even if this one could get me thrown in the very prison that he'd been forced into…

Still. Odin tended to have more mercy on mortals. Perhaps I would not be imprisoned. Perhaps Loki still would be, for allowing me to 'talk him into it'. It would no longer surprise him.

The black, bubbling, tar-like hatred was very much like a sickness inside of him. It ate away at his insides, gnawed at him relentlessly. It was the worst kind of hatred; the most painful kind, the kind that shot out in all directions and stabbed you worst in yourself. And I knew that; because I _was _him.

Odin studied us. I didn't take my eyes off of him, did not flinch or waver or hesitate. But in spite of my pure determination, my knees were shaking. My hands trembled at my sides. Odin was not like the Council. No matter the resources that S.H.I.E.L.D. had, there was no prison on Earth that could hold me; but I doubted the same could be said for Asgard. By this point, my one and only goal was to stay free until Fraye was killed (which, oddly, was Loki's one goal as well). And if that meant that I'd have to take out armies to do it…

So be it.

Loki was taken aback by my determination in this. Before now, I hadn't even considered defying S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers, let alone _Odin. _Before now, I hadn't needed to.

But I was still not going to let Loki take the fall for this. (Though, as far as I was concerned, there was no 'fall' to take. We had done the right thing. Even if it had been pronounced 'wrong'.) Loki didn't _deserve _the fall for this.

He didn't deserve to be punished the first time that he did the _right thing. _

After a long moment in which I held my ground against Odin's penetrating stare, the Asgardian King finally spoke up again.

"And were you successful?"

Part of me felt relieved. Part of me was way too suspicious for that. But somewhere between the warring of these two halves of myself, a response came out. "In a manner of speaking."

Odin's face remained stern. He did not ask me to elaborate, but I felt the necessity to do so anyway. "We learned more of Fraye's world. Learned about what might have happened to it. About what might have destroyed her species. And…" I hesitated. We'd learned far more than that; but I suspected that the Jotuns would not take too kindly to an Asgardian learning about the 'deal' that they had made; and then failed to follow through on because of those same Asgardians.

I looked back to Loki. He looked back to me. Our minds touched and flooded together, trying to come to a conclusion.

"We learned what, exactly, she's capable of," I compromised, my words swimming in shadows. "And to what lengths she will go." As if we _needed _to learn that. As if the always-painful scars on Loki's back would ever let him _forget_ what Fraye was capable of.

There was a long moment of silence. Odin watched me. Intently.

"And did the Jotuns protest your presence? Did they take offense to what you said?"

"No. In fact, as far as I could tell, they were grateful that _someone _decided to warn them about the imminent threat to their world." I tried to stare him down. At the same time, I tried not to. "They were readying their planet's defenses."

"Preparing for war," he said in a tone that was almost like an assumption, and almost an accusation. My lip twitched downwards.

"In essence. But not against either of our worlds."

Odin's eye narrowed on me. "And how can you be certain of this?"

I tilted my head to the side, pieces falling into place, the jigsaw coming together, forming a picture. I could see the pattern on the chessboard; the King had made a move, one that I had thought insignificant and thus had almost missed…

The corner of my lip now turned upwards into almost a half-smirk. "I am as certain as you were," I answered in a slow, measured tone, "When you decided to let us go through with it."

If Loki was surprised, he masked it; as did Odin. Loki's thoughts slipped along mine, following in my mental footsteps, and after a brief second, he, too, saw the pattern. The move that had been made.

Because the guards had been waiting for us _outside _of the room where we had been, where Loki had created the portal. They had been _waiting _for us to come out. If they truly wanted to _stop _us, they could have just come in and arrested Loki then and there; forced him to recall me back to Asgard, forced me back on-planet.

Oh, Odin was very clever. He played this game very well; but then, he'd been playing it for a very long time. And why _wouldn't _he want Midgard and Jotunheim to have a good relationship? Would that not, in turn, ease the strain between Jotunheim and Asgard? Would that not make things easier for _everyone? _Did it not fit _Odin's _goals?

I could have applauded.

Despite how neither of her family members had reacted to my statement, Frigga, sitting beside Odin, smiled very softly. I may have been new to the game, but I was learning to see when and where the pieces were being played. Even if I was one of those pieces.

_Ever the pawn in someone else's game… _One of us mused, but which one, we weren't certain.

Odin watched me closely for another long, tense moment. I stood my ground, the weight and blame of the world settling upon my shoulders. Regardless of whether or not he had allowed us to go through with my little journey to Jotunheim, I had still gone against what was required of me. I had still gone off-world unsupervised. I had still risked interplanetary war. I had still allowed Loki to open a portal to another planet. There was still blame on me. I had put it there. I had accepted and claimed it.

Finally, Odin announced, "This will not happen again."

But there was a friendlier spark in his eye (one that I saw and Loki did not) when he added, "Unless the matter has been discussed with myself or Thor beforehand."

I gave him a wry half-smile. The Pawn smiling to the King. "Aye, sir," I said, but my tone indicated, _no promises, dude. _

He turned away. "You are dismissed."

I backed away, half-bowing, and Loki followed moments later. His eyes were on me, watching out of the corner of his vision, as I walked out of the throne room, out into the main body of the palace. My heart was pounding and my knees felt like jelly, but for a second, I felt… alive.

As soon as we were out of the sentries' line of sight, and their range of hearing, I slouched against a wall and let out a heavy, relieved sigh. "Okay," I panted, my fingers shaking. "That went well."

Loki's green eyes turned scrutinizing, scanning me very, very carefully. I was shaking, in a cold sweat. Today had been a long one. His eyes flicked away from me, looking down the hallway, ignoring me as I took a few deep breaths in an effort to calm my suddenly-racing heart. His heartbeat, shadowing mine, was still very slow and even. He was always so freaking calm. It bugged me.

I ran my hands down my face as Loki's thoughts grew distant. I ignored them, allowing my mind to focus on other things. The Avengers, for one: they were going to be royally pissed when we met up with them. And Thor, for another. I felt kinda bad; he shouldn't have had to go through this whole 'Jane' thing alone. I mean, he had the Avengers, but still… I should have been there with him. I should be there with him _right now. _

"You did not have to do that," Loki's voice pulled me out of my thoughts. It was gentle and cool and quiet, a winter's mummer. I blinked, looking to him.

"Do what?"

He gave me a sharp look. Okay, so it was something obvious. I thought for a moment, then rolled my eyes.

"Oh, take the blame?" I shrugged. "Of course I did." I pushed myself up off the wall. And of course I had to. Loki didn't deserve to be punished for doing something that even his father recognized was the right thing.

I turned around and started walking down the hall, heading towards the Healing Room, where I knew Thor and the other Avengers would be waiting. Loki did not move. For a moment, he stared at the ground. A frozen statue, an ice sculpture, immobile and filled with an artist's thoughts and time and care.

After a moment, as I was still walking, he half-whispered, half-mouthed, "Thank you."

I halted in the middle of a step, almost falling but not quite. After my foot landed, I took a moment to pull myself together, straightening, then turned to him. For a long moment, his face was turned downwards; and then his eyes- and _only _his eyes- flicked up to look at me. It was not the first time that the words had been said, but… well, they were a rarity.

And, as big a deal as they were to him… I knew it frustrated him that they were. And so instead of freaking out and making it into a big deal in turn, I just slugged him in the arm. "No biggie. Us monsters gotta stick together, right?"

He didn't react. Instead, he turned away from me. There was no window on the other end of the hall, but as distant as his gaze went, there might as well have been. He might as well have been staring out across the city, across space, across the universe itself. "You know what he would have done," his tone was oddly flat. "If he had believed that I was the one at fault."

I looked away. Because I did know. At the very least, I knew what was likely; if Odin hadn't been on our side from the beginning. "Don't think about it," I suggested, trying to turn away.

"It is _all _I think about." His voice stopped me from doing so, and I flinched at his sincerity.

"It didn't happen, Loki," I said, looking to him, trying to meet his eyes. "Forget about it."

"How can I?" he breathed. "When I know that it is the only thing that lies ahead for me?" His eyes closed. "Of what use and worth is my life, if that is all that lies at the end of defending it? If we succeed, I will be of no more value. I will be returned to the darkness."

I bit my lip. Because what could I say? It was true. As hard as he was trying to save his own skin, he was finding that life was becoming worthless to him. For what was the point in living, if he was forced to live _there?_ There, in that prison, in that darkness, that _hole._

And there was nothing I could do to stop it; Loki had to answer for his crimes. He had tried to destroy one planet and take over another (twice). He had killed countless. He had killed April.

_He deserves it. _

It was something that I occasionally found myself wanting to believe. A thought that, no matter how I tried, I could _not _believe. Because, no matter how unapologetic Loki was for these past mistakes, that was still all they were: mistakes. And slowly, _slowly, _he was recognizing this. I _knew _he was. I could quite literally _feel _it.

And no one, but _no one, _deserved to be trapped with their greatest fear. Not like that. And he'd been hiding it for so long.

How exhausted he must be…

I sighed, taking a step closer to him, realizing too late that it kinda breeched both of our personal bubbles. Loki didn't seem to have a problem with it, but suddenly I felt a bit… awkward. Still, I persisted.

"One thing at a time, okay?" I asked, catching his gaze and holding it firmly. "We'll figure everything out. We just gotta survive Fraye, first. That's all that matters." At his still-doubtful look, I placed a hand on him carefully, reassuringly. "We can't let her get away with this. Revenge ain't the best thing to live for; but it's still something." He tried to look away. I made sure he couldn't. "We'll figure it out, I swear."

His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he looked at me, as he watched me. After a moment, though he seemed almost… _perplexed, _he nodded. I turned, and the two of us continued to head for the Healing Room, standing a few feet apart, so that we would not seem 'close' when we encountered the Avengers.

But, in spite of what I knew lay ahead, in spite of knowing what would be done and said… my mind was far away from the Avengers and their ire. I was too busy thinking on what it meant to be a prisoner; and what it meant to be free.

By the time I reached the Healing Room, my only conclusion was this: so long as Fraye was out there, causing damage and killing people… so long as darkness existed… Loki would never be free.

* * *

"You said that he could not leave the planet without the Tesseract!" Clint shouted. I stayed where I was, leaning against the wall, arms crossed and face blank, and gave exactly no shits.

"Gee, it looks like I lied." I batted my eyelashes a few times. "Would it help if I said I was _vewy vewy _sowwy?"

"This isn't a _game, _Natalie!" Steve was almost as mad as Clint was. No, scratch that, he was pissed, too. "We have to be able to trust you, trust him, to watch our backs!"

"And we _can't _trust him, if he can just magic himself away the instant things get too rough!" Tony cut in. My eyebrow went up, unimpressed, though it _was _rare to see Tony and Steve agreeing on something. Under other circumstances, that might have been a nice change of pace.

"And we can't trust _you _if you keep _lying to us!" _Clint chimed in. It seemed odd to me, that Loki wasn't even the target of their latest barrage. He was sitting in the other end of the room (the Asgardian equivalent of the waiting room in a doctor's office; only Thor was currently inside of the actual 'Healing Room' with Jane) and was being left completely alone. I, on the other hand, had been cornered against the wall from the instant that I'd walked inside.

"Oh, puh-_leeze._" I rolled my eyes, waving a flippant hand. I placed my palms flat against the wall and pushed myself upright. "Tell me, would you have believed me if I told you that he _could _leave the planet, but he _wouldn't?_"

"Of course not!" That was Clint.

I smirked. For a brilliant super spy, Big Bird walked right into that one in a very _stupid_ way. "So one way or another, you _wouldn't _have trusted me." I gave my head a quick little tilt to the side- another one of Loki's gestures that I seemed to have adopted- and took a step forwards. "At least _this _way, you got to see for yourself that he's not going anywhere. If he really _was _able to escape, he could've done it a long time ago."

"_If?_" Tony asked. "It seems pretty clear to me that he _can _escape, any time he wants."

"Not without her."

Loki's voice was very quiet, but it carried all the way over to us. The three Avengers who were attacking me whirled on him. Natasha stood beside the Norse god of Mischief, leaning against the wall in the same bored way that I had been only moments ago. I admit to looking a little bit _too _smug at that point.

"Precisely," I said with a callous shrug. "And I'm not going anywhere."

"Forgive me if I can't rely on that," Clint said bitterly.

"Well I will, since you asked nicely," I responded airily. "But if you ask me, this is all rather pointless. Loki can leave the planet, big deal. Why _would _he? Fraye can track him down across universes, and then he'd end up facing her alone." Loki concealed a wince. "At least with us, he has a fighting chance."

Banner, who had been sitting a short distance away from Loki and Natasha, leaning over in a thoughtful position with his hands folded, now looked at those hands and asked, "Loki, how long did she have you prisoner?"

The entire room froze.

You know those moments in a movie, where the soundtrack stops playing, and the world goes white? Or in an anime, where suddenly the entire screen flashes into a photo negative? And there's absolutely no sound, no movement; just a single screen with one character in a background of nothing…?

You wouldn't think those moments could happen in real life. But believe me, they do.

At the sound of our silence, Banner looked up, then straightened in his seat. "It's fairly obvious," he informed us in a calm voice. He looked to Natasha. "And _you_ knew, didn't you?"

Natasha blinked at him. Loki looked away as Banner's gaze turned to him.

"Before or after the Chitauri incident?" Banner questioned. Loki's eyes stayed on the wall.

"Before," someone with a strong voice answered, and though I was currently numb, I realized it was me.

"And she tortured him?"

Another flash of white, a swapping into the negative, because everything was reversed and wrong, because the Avengers did not know this, they could not be _told _this… They could _never _know this…

Loki blinked. It was as much an affirmative as anyone was ever going to get from him. I think I nodded, but I wasn't sure.

"H-How…?" Tony attempted to inquire, looking to Bruce. Though he never formed an actual question, we all knew what he was asking.

"Because I paid attention," there was just the lightest of chastisements in Bruce's tone as he pointed his words in Tony's direction, then turned his gaze- and the mild blame- onto Steve and Clint. "I may not particularly like Loki, but that doesn't mean that I'm blind to whatever humanity he _does _have."

He gave me a little understanding look as he said this. I could only give him a blank one in response.

"So she… she _did _torture him?" Steve turned to me for confirmation. I looked to Loki for permission to answer. This wasn't my secret being revealed. We might have been the same person, but certain things still belonged to us as individuals; and this secret belonged irrevocably to _him. _

He didn't look at me. But his eyes closed and he gave the mental equivalent of a half-nod. He was too drained to actually perform the action in reality, and thus left it to me. Still, I found gravity suddenly taking a toll on my gaze, forcing it downwards, to the floor.

"Yeah," I breathed, wrapping one arm around myself and rubbing my other arm with my hand. "Yeah, she did."

I couldn't look up for a moment, but when I did, it was to steal a glance at Clint. I don't think I've ever seen anyone look so… I don't even know how to explain it. There is no one word to describe everything in his expression at that moment. There was anger, because he was always holding onto it so desperately, because Fraye was always silently urging him to do so. There was the desperate need for some kind of justification, for some way to keep Loki as the villain, the bad guy, the boogeyman. There was betrayal, because Natasha, his partner, his closest friend, the woman he secretly loved, had hid such crucial information from him. And somewhere amid that, there was the faintest trace of guilt, dusted over the words, _how did I not see this? _

Because Clint had been there before, I was certain. Just like Natasha had.

Torturer and Tortured.

Natasha gently nudged Loki's shoulder. "Show them," she suggested lightly. It was a suggestion she'd given to us before. She had not seen Loki's scars with her own eyes, but she had known that he would have them. We all had scars, after all, and these, the ones of torture, would be the most visible of all…

Loki's eyes stayed on the wall for a long moment before flicking to me. For a moment, it was almost as though he was now asking _me _for permission. But then I realized that it was deeper than that. He was asking me if he was capable of doing this. Because I would know better than he would.

The Avengers saw the interchange of glances and looked between the two of us, some eyes on him, some on me. One pair-Clint's- on Natasha. Amid all of these glances and gazes and stares, Loki and I did not turn away from each other. I took a few steps towards him as Natasha put her hand on his shoulder; for some reason, the gesture was oddly comforting in a way that I could not be. I think it was the blood on her hands that made it that way, the experience of what those hands had done and been through, things that I had not. Natasha understood in a way that I couldn't. No matter our connection, I was still currently a secondhand observer to Loki's pain in so many ways…

I crouched down next to him so that I was at eye level of where he sat, scanning his jade eyes, trying to determine an answer to his unspoken question. After a moment, I nodded. He could do this. He could do this.

Loki blinked and looked down. With a quick hand gesture, he removed the illusion beneath his sleeve; he disguised the magical movement, making it look as though he was simply moving his hand closer to his sleeve. If he dropped the illusion in the sight of the Avengers, they may have believed that he was creating one, not removing it, and that those scars were no more real than they believed any of his other words and actions to be.

As he undid the clasp of his sleeve with deft fingers, my hand suddenly shot out, wrapping around his wrist. My eyes, like all others in the room, were locked on his arm. Loki stopped moving, stopped trying to undo and roll down his jacket sleeve.

"Swear to me," I said, and I was surprised by the venom that dripped along my teeth and coated my tongue. My eyes flicked up to the Avengers and skewered each of them in turn. "Swear to me that this does not leave this room." With my free hand- the one that was not gripping Loki's wrist like a vise- I gestured between myself and the Trickster. "_We _tell Thor. And _no one _else _ever _finds out."

Banner nodded once; it was immediate. He understood. As did Natasha, but the others were more hesitant. My hand trembled and a single tiny droplet of spittle flew from my lips as I shouted, "Swear it!"

There was another immobile moment. Then, starting with Steve and moving on to Tony and Clint, the others nodded. With difficulty, I released Loki's arm, my fingers splaying out before clenching into a fist by my side. He gave me another glance to double-check before he continued. I nodded again, tightly, and he continued to roll his sleeve down with careful hands. It was the wrist without the Key, but there were still so many secrets carved into his skin that it was not really necessary-or really even possible- for him to reveal another.

Loki's eyes were hollow as he displayed the inside, then the out, of his forearm, slowly rotating it so that every one of the scars would catch the light. From the small white ones that were tally-marked on the side of his wrist, to the long, curving red swoops that trailed with burnt edges towards the crook of his elbow. The entire room was one person, holding their breath, as Loki gave the most twisted of smirks and demanded in what was not quite powerful enough to be called a snarl, "Satisfied?"

He was trying to be his usual dark, arrogant, evil self. Even as he showed us the cracks inside of him, the fractures that web-lined through him. Tony's and Steve's jaws went slack as Clint's clenched.

Banner took a step forwards, holding his hands out. "May I…?" he asked delicately. Loki studied him for a second, then seemed to decide that it was pointless to try and protect whatever scrap of dignity he had left. Turning away, he allowed Banner to take his arm in his hands and scan the wounds.

After a moment, Banner said in a quiet voice, "And the pain doesn't stop?" It was a question directed at Loki, but a reminder directed at the Avengers. "Ever?"

"It's not intended to, no," I answered for him bitterly. "He's repaired them as best he could but… he's not a Healer." I looked away. "And even if he were… I doubt that there's anything more that could be done."

"Where are the rest?"

The words were tight and said through gritted teeth, the words of someone clinging to their anger so tightly that their fingers are turning numb. Clint's words. Natasha closed her eyes, sighing out a warning in the form of his name. "Clint…"

"Where are the rest?" Clint demanded again, taking a dangerous step towards Loki. I rolled my eyes to him and snapped in an exhausted way, "_Enough, _Fraye_."_

For a brief second, Clint didn't seem to recognize what I'd called him; he took another step forwards before freezing in a _wait-what _kind of way. But before he could react, Loki spoke.

"No."

I looked to him. His eyes were on the ground. A little smile drifted across his face, showing his teeth. For a brief second, those teeth looked almost like fangs.

"No, you're right, Barton." He laughed- it sounded like twisted, shattered glass, grating against my ears- and looked to Clint. "Of course there are others." His eyes flicked to Bruce. "And to answer your question, Doctor Banner, she had me for a number of months." Eyes back to Clint. "So why would she stop here?" he gestured to his arm.

"Loki…" I said slowly. "Loki, it's okay. You don't have to do this."

"Of course I do, Miss Frost." His eyes held a darkness black as pitch even as he smiled lethally. Even as he acted as though none of this mattered. It was a darkness straight from the eyes of Fraye Burns herself. "Why else would I be believed, if they do not know everything?" He had already removed the remainder of the illusion; and was now shrugging out of his jacket. The scars on the other arm came into visibility, and I saw eyes darting across them, scanning them. He reached for the hem of his shirt, but before he could take it, I gripped his hands and yanked them away forcefully.

"You're not ready for this," I hissed at him, throwing his hands down and away. My mental voice soon joined in a chorus with my real one. _What are you trying to do, throw the scars in their faces? The only ones who can be convinced have already seen everything they need to. Clint won't hear it. Fraye's making sure that he __**can't **__hear it. _

He took both of my hands in his, then collected them in one of his own, binding my wrists with his fingers, keeping me from stopping him again. _Regardless. This will be said. _

I frowned, but when he released my hands, I did not try to stop him again. He removed his shirt swiftly, the scars that mattered still hidden by the fact that he had not yet turned his back to the Avengers. I heard Tony make some kind of noise; it was almost a gasp, but it was choked off and stifled. Even I bit my lip. I'd never really seen all of the scars like this; though I'd seen the ones on his back, had them branded into my mind with a white-hot poker, written there for the rest of time. And I'd caught a glimpse of the ones on his chest and stomach, but… well, as usual, it was still a lot worse to be confronted with them in their entirety. Regardless of whether or not I knew everything about his scars, I never liked seeing them. It was always painful to look at.

He was still smiling in his usual arrogant, wicked way as he turned to drape his shirt over the chair. Steve's eyes immediately zeroed in on the symbols between Loki's shoulder blades. The others' soon followed; even if they were not English, they were so symmetrical, so _intentional, _that they naturally drew the eye to them.

Loki straightened, standing upright. A single note of a laugh all but choked off in the back of his throat, and he smiled as he felt all eyes on him, on his back. I hadn't realized that I was reaching out to hold his hand until his fingers wrapped around mine. A deafening silence rang through the air.

And then… "Go on, Frost," Loki prodded, his voice languid and relaxed despite its sharp edge. "Tell them what they mean."

I closed my eyes. Swallowed. Loki was acting very flippant and casual. He was laughing and smiling and pretending like this was just another play in his long game, but his hand was clutching mine so tightly that I was having a hard time keeping myself from crying out in pain. I was certain that my fingers must have been breaking, but I spoke anyway.

"It's… Jotun text," I said, looking away as the Avengers stared. "It means 'Child of Shadow'." I paused, then, seeing their mildly confused looks, clarified, "It's their term for Fraye. They don't say her name out loud."

Loki, still smiling his twisted, bent, crooked smile, turned around to Barton. His hand slipped out of mine so that he could turn, but, moments later, his other hand took its place. The movement was so natural and reflexive that the Avengers didn't really notice it. Their eyes were on the scars that cut across the Trickster's entirety. "So you see, Barto-"

He meant to question Clint on why he would run from Fraye. Meant to ask if Clint had ever run from one of _his _torturers, or if he had done everything in his power to make certain that said torturers did not live to see the next sunrise. But he stopped talking abruptly, his words choking off in his throat. His eyes widened. His heartbeat froze.

Confused, I followed his gaze, turning to the thing that had made his words die off. The door on the other end of the room-the one that lead into the Healing Room- was open.

Thor was standing in the doorframe.

Staring at Loki's scars.

One by one, the other Avengers turned to see what had stopped the flow of Loki's words. I couldn't tell you what they were thinking as they caught sight of Thor- their expressions ranged from sympathy to unexplained guilt- and I could barely tell you what _I _was thinking. Swallowing, I took a step forwards, hand slipping out of Loki's, so that I could open it pleadingly towards the Thunderer. "Thor…"

Thor's hand clutched the doorframe so tightly that the wood splintered with a _crack! _

Everyone flinched as the wood broke in half, small, crumbling splinters raining down off of the sides. His blue eyes, already bloodshot and rimmed with red, did not leave the scars, roaming about and taking in every last one of them. Arms, chest, stomach… the scars were everywhere, lash-lines and curls, thin and thick, black and white and red and burnt and ugly and ruining, ruining everything, ruining his brother, ruining Loki outside and in. Just as Jane had been ruined inside and out.

I had learned the true meaning of the expression 'murder in his eyes' a year ago, back when I had first met Loki. Before then, I had thought it was nothing more than an expression, a clever turn of words used to explain something away. But even though I now knew that it was nothing more or less than a blood-stained truth, I was still taken aback by the murder in Thor's eyes now.

He moved very quickly; none of us had any time to react before he had made it across the room, taking three or four quick, snapping strides and forcefully gripping his brother by the shoulders, turning him around again. Loki, similarly taken aback by the pure bloodlust on Thor's features (and quite honestly a great deal frightened by it, fearing for only a single disoriented moment that it was directed at him) allowed himself to be turned, so that Thor could see the Jotun symbols that had been engraved into his skin.

I both saw and heard Thor's teeth clench. His hands began to tremble; I heard the rumbling of the sky somewhere far above our heads, and the light outside of the window began to darken. Blue sparks danced and crackled in the back of his eyes.

"When."

It was too dark, too blunt, and too filled with utter loathing to be a question; or to be Thor's words. It was an order from a King, and the answer slipped out of my mouth without my permission.

"Before the Chitauri Incident."

Thor's lightning eyes turned to me. I could see his hand straining not to reach for the war hammer in his belt. "You knew."

Again, not a question. But not an order, either. An accusation. One of the first I'd ever heard from Thor's lips. I turned my head away and used the gesture to nod at the same time. I could not stand to look at the betrayal in his eyes. Nor the hate that might as well have been directed at me, though I knew, somewhere, that it never could be.

Loki's shoulders were released, and he was allowed to turn to face Thor again. He did so quickly, but he still did not seem able to look at his brother. His eyes stayed on the floor, his features filled with shame, humiliation, disgrace. And of course, the ever-present sheen of dark, smothered fury.

Thor's thick hands clenched into fists at his sides, still trembling. And then, abruptly, he turned away from us all, Mjolnir flying into his hand. It did not need much urging; in seconds, the hammer was in his palm and Thor was striding towards the Healing Room, back to Jane. Unable to help myself, I followed him, calling, "Thor, wait! Please… Thor!"

But I was cut off by the sound of another voice; and the sight of another figure inside of the Healing Room.

"I told you that you wouldn't like what you saw," Fraye purred, tilting back on two legs of her chair, legs crossed and sharp, unpainted fingernails tapping her lower lip gently. She shrugged in an _oh-well _way and lowered the front two legs of her chair back to the ground. "Why does no one ever listen to me?" Her pale hand gently stroked Jane's hair, arranging it on the pillow, white fingers interlacing with chocolate brown strands.

Mjolnir was coming to electric life inside of Thor's hands, brilliant and bright and dangerous. "You have named your terms," he said in a very low, very dangerous, and strangely regal tone. I realized then that Loki was next to me again, having followed after he realized that Fraye was here. The Avengers were gathering behind us.

"And now I shall name _mine," _Thor concluded. I blinked. Naming terms. Making deals. Iecera had warned that Fraye made deals, had told me of the pact that she had made with the Jotuns. It seemed she had offered Thor one, too. From the looks of things, I'd say she was being rejected.

"Run." Thor ordered, as the sky outside grew ever darker and the world around us began to crackle with lightning. The distant Thunder was ever-growing in strength and volume, growling and rumbling and snarling like an animal, the entire breath of the world turning cold and overcast and stormy. Thor spoke through his clenched jaw, and yet every word was crystal clear.

"You can _run_, and you can _hide_, like the _vile __**wretch **_that you are_._ But it matters not, and it never_ shall. _I will follow you to the edges of the nine realms, I will follow you beyond them, no matter how you hide, no matter how _far you go, _I will _find you. _And I swear," he began to tremble even more violently, pent-up power exploding through his nerves and muscles and veins, his heart alight with electric blue-white flames. "_I swear, _that you will _pay _for _everything you have done, __**creature!"**_

"'Creature,' now," Fraye exclaimed, mock-injured, holding her hand against her heart as though wounded. "Oh, my dear, I do still have a _name, _you know." She jutted out her lower lip. "I may be a monster, but I have a heart," She winked at Loki. "Sound familiar, my little toy?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Avengers- in the room now, behind us- react to that. Natasha's face remained passive. She knew how Fraye referred to Loki, she had recognized it before any of the others had. But Steve and Tony were very clearly seeing it in a new light, and even Bruce's eyes grew darker.

But the words took no greater hold in anyone than they seemed to in Clint. He actually stumbled back half a step, eyes widening in horror as he mouthed, _no. _Over and over again, I saw him whispering the denial, as though it could change everything. As though that would change the things he'd said. As though that could suck away and take back all of the hate. Maybe he didn't care about what hatred he had for Loki, but he knew me. And why _wouldn't _I help Loki, if he had been tortured? He knew how I was.

I wasn't Loki's puppet after all…

I could almost see the wheels of the archer's head turning, thinking back to what I had called him, thinking back to the fact that I had named him 'Fraye'… seeing the manipulation for what it was at last…

"But why should I run?" Fraye asked, stepping away from Jane and turning back to Thor. "When you can exact your petty little revenge right now?" She smiled with all of her perfect white teeth. "I'm not going to stop you. In fact…" She winked. "Why don't we do this the easy way?"

That was when the shadows struck.

They rose up off of the ground to meet us, wraiths of darkness, black ghosts that swarmed around us and swallowed us whole, devoured us. Startled, I tried to cry out, to scream, but I found any and all sound snatched away from me as the shadows cocooned each of us separately.

I felt the rush of cold air blowing around me, a feeling of movement and motion making my stomach lurch, and I knew that we were traveling somewhere. But where, I did not know; nor did I even know if the others were beside me, or if they were being sent in opposite directions. The blackness was absolute, swallowing all senses except that of flying through the void, through the nothingness.

_Loki! _I cried out in my head, for it was the only place where my voice was heard, but he was fine, I could feel that he was fine, but though he was standing beside me only moments ago, I could not find him there. My hand reached out in the darkness, trying to grasp hold of him, of Thor, who had also been standing close, trying to reach for any of the others…

And then we were plunged into light again. I pitched forwards and fell on the ground, landing painfully in the dirt. I collapsed, coughing, trying to push myself upright with my palms. My fingers dug easily into the ground beneath me, which was so fine as to be called sand… no, finer, and paler than sand, of a grimmer hue…

Not sand.

Ash.

I was on my hands and knees in a field of ash.

I immediately scrabbled upright, spitting grey globs out of my mouth, surprised at how much soot and cinder that I'd inhaled in such a short time. I heard coughing beside me and whirled to it; Tony. And beside him, Steve. I scrabbled to see someone, _any_one else, looking through both my own eyes and Loki's. I was just as (if not more) relieved as he was when he caught sight of me; I turned to the angle his viewpoint suggested and saw him there, similarly spitting out ash and soot. Thor appeared moments later, materializing out of the shadows, falling to his hands and knees in front of Tony, Natasha tumbling out of the darkness soon afterwards. She was on her feet in a heartbeat, and already the skies began to darken beneath Thor's influence.

Immediately, we all went into action; the Avengers, Loki and I, all trying to clarify the battlefield in our minds, searching for advantages, for disadvantages. Stark's suitcase appeared after a second, directly beside him- this had to be a fun game for Fraye, she had to have challenges, so why would she not give it to him?- and he immediately started to suit up. The others fell into a battle pattern, falling in step beside each other, circling each other. Banner- who had come through next to Loki and pulled himself up soon afterwards- was immediately surrounded on all sides by the other Avengers, who turned their backs to him, and to each other, standing in a circle so that they had eyes on all angles.

But perhaps it was even more curious that, as the Avengers fell instinctively into line around each other, Loki and I fell in to line as well; but not with them.

With each other.

Back to back, eyes everywhere, Loki's armor glimmering into existence, covering his now-soot-stained scars and skin, my glow beginning to spread across my form as I prepped the Death Bubble for action. The Avengers stood beside us and we stood outside of the Avengers; because that is what they were, and it is what we were not. We weren't Avengers. We weren't with the team. Hell, we weren't even our own team. We were just enemies made into allies, forged together by what our link had made us into. We fought together on the basis of _what _we were, as opposed to _who _we were. Because if we fought by _who _we were… we'd be in very different positions now, wouldn't we?

Fraye emerged from the shadows like an old pro; with none of the indignities that we had suffered, none of the falling into the dirt. The Avengers were all tense and geared for war, weapons out, but Loki and I were still separated, and my bubble still hadn't appeared. We were thinking, not fighting, not yet. Strategy first.

First thought to be addressed: _where are we?_

Not Earth. Not any of the planets that Loki knew. An empty place, filled with ash and dust. Nothing living here, not for millennia. Not on this part of the planet, at least. There was bound to be some kind of growth or plant or animal life _somewhere. _

We had already arrived at a conclusion by the time Fraye drifted down out of the air, her bare feet making small grey clouds where they landed. "Home sweet home," Fraye bubbled and chirped and laughed like it was all so beautiful. She took a deep breath through her nose, in the way someone would after complimenting the fresh air in a place. "It took so many _years _for the air to be breathable again… oh, it's so _good _to be back, it's been a while…"

Loki and I did not need to exchange even a look. In that second, we both knew; this was going to become a battle. A bloodbath. Because this place was utterly abandoned; there were no civilian distractions, no buildings, nothing but her and us in between an empty ash sky. The perfect place for a slaughter.

I flared my force field; it snapped away in its spherical shape before molding itself to my form. Our minds meshed together, thoughts interweaving and interlacing. We had gotten much better at doing that in a short time, and in seconds, our thoughts had become one current, a wave and a riptide, flowing along the same path. Boundaries were erased, borders shattered into oblivion. Natalie and Loki ceased to be; there was no more 'I' or 'him' or 'her'. There was only 'we' and 'us'. One mind in control of two separate bodies, with control over four hands and arms and legs, four eyes and ears, two hearts and one desperate desire for the bleakest of all goals: revenge.

I'd like to say that Fraye struck first, and that all other blows were in complete self-defense… ( well, regardless of who struck first, it was still self-defense) but it was definitely our side that threw the first blow. More specifically, it was Thor, Mjolnir still alive with white lightning as the skies grew ever darker. Fraye laughed as the hammer struck against shadow, light and dark clashing in an explosion worthy of a ballad all its own, a history all its own. Thor was relentless, throwing strike after strike as Tony threw himself into the air beside him.

We turned Natalie's body towards Bruce and spoke through her lips, knowing that her voice would be more readily listened to. "Banner! We need big green! NOW!"

Now, because this could be it. Fraye was having a blast with Thor's continuing strikes, laughing like a person who had just escaped an asylum. She would have no qualms with killing one of us, it was true; but now she had brought us here, with no distractions, no buildings, no civilians.

In short, nothing to hold us back.

This could be the end of any of us.

Clint was already firing arrows (as if he would have left his bow at home when he went to Asgard. Yeah right) and Natasha, too, was firing bullets. We didn't know where she had concealed her weaponry, but she suddenly seemed to have a lot of it. Steve removed his backpack and pulled out the shield (I was wondering where that was) and, suddenly, though we hadn't all properly 'suited up'… we were fighting.

You wouldn't think that those of us who were on the ground would have much to do, given the mostly-flat field (though there were a few small rises in the ground) but Fraye soon took care of that. As she flung herself backwards, away from Thor's most recent strike, she laughed hysterically and threw out her hands. Shadows swarmed at her fingertips and spilled down to the ground, strands of darkness unwinding as they poured themselves onto the ash and rebuilt themselves into dark figures, wraiths of night, with their canine faces and forms, their fur like candlelight shadows.

_Shadow Hounds. _

It wasn't a thought, not anymore. It was an action, a _reaction. _We were charging towards the Hounds in a heartbeat as the corner of Loki's eye caught sight of Banner, rippling, changing. Even as more hounds grew out of the darkness, Natalie charged one as Loki took on another, and we saw, heard, and felt everything through all of these eyes and limbs, and we slashed out with Loki's spear and created sharp edges in Natalie's force field, and the fight became a blur, accented by the sounds of Thor's and Fraye's battle above us, as well as the Hulk's occasional shattering roar.

A swift move to the left in one body, a fast jab with a fist in the other. Striking and dodging and weaving, the two of us fell into our dance as one. The training, it became immediately apparent, had paid off, strained though it always was. The Avengers fought beside us- _both _of us- without complaint, without even the barest heartbeat of hesitation. And Thor was bellowing war cries every three seconds in defense of his brother, and of the woman he loved.

"Aw, you're so _cute _when you're angry!" Fraye gushed, a scythe of shadow interfering with Thor's most recent blow. Lightning and shadow, light and dark, split the skies into beauty and horror. The Thunderer did not seem to hear her; Natalie eyes went to him and saw the warrior madness raging in his features.

_That idiot is going to get himself killed, _we thought, as Loki's arm linked with Natalie's, pulling her towards him and propelling her behind him. Her force field grew into a sharpened edge, which cut across a Shadow Hound's front legs, bringing it to the ground. Seconds later, we drove Loki's spear through its head, and the creature vanished in a cloud of darkness.

We knew it was only temporary. Even now, the shadows were gathering together again, swirling around at our feet and building themselves up once again. But it still gave us a second to think. We half-separated in an effort to think straight, a majority of our thoughts still interlocked.

_We have to get into the air. _This was Natalie's thought. And then we were lost into each other's minds again, scanning with all eyes and listening with all ears, dodging and weaving. It was a long, endless few moments before we managed another temporary victory, driving a spear into the heart of an unfortunate Shadow Hound. It yelped and vanished into nothingness, only to swirl back into being reformed. It didn't even need the added benefit of spontaneous regeneration; not even the Hulk seemed capable of plowing through these numbers. Okay, maybe the Hulk.

It was amazing, how many of these creatures Fraye had under her control. Natasha screamed Natalie's name in an effort to warn her of an impending claw ready to rain on her back; but Loki's eyes had already seen it, and Natalie turned in time to throw the sharpest point of her force field directly into the creature's massive paw. An arrow streaked through the sky and struck the Hound closest to Natalie; she skipped backwards and was pressed against Loki's back by the time the arrowhead exploded, tearing a large, gaping wound in the side of the monstrous creature. It was agreed that one of us would need the aerial advantage, and of course immediately decided that Natalie was the best candidate. A fall from such heights would not damage her.

Shadows drove themselves into the ashen earth in obsidian shards, sharp edges that rained down from the sky with every flash of lightning, every echoing rumble of thunder. Fraye and Thor were still going for each other's throats, with Tony trying to get in a few hits as well, continually twisting and weaving, narrowly avoiding being struck by the shadows- or the lightning- that were still scorching the skies.

Whereas Clint and Natasha, old partners in the battlefield, might have communicated what needed to be done in a single look or mild gesture, Loki and I needed no such communication. Do you need to talk to yourself before making a decision?

And so the second we saw our opportunity, the decision was made. Action, reaction. See something, react to it. No middleman. Loki's hand whipped out in a claw, driving itself deep inside one of the shadow shards, keeping it solidified, keeping it from dissolving. Taming the shadows, so that this particular one now obeyed only him. Natalie skipped up along the edges that had suddenly formed, finding handholds and footholds out of the darkness that undulated and shifted in Loki's shaky control. Shadow control was a very dangerous and difficult ability to master, and Loki was no where near as gifted with it as Fraye was. But he didn't need to be; by the time he lost his hold on it, sweat beading on his forehead, Natalie was already launching herself towards the slice of shadow that Fraye was throwing in her direction. Dancing and jumping from shadow to shadow, she managed to stay in the air.

If I was me- solely, completely and _only _me- I might have felt like the ultimate badass. As it was, Loki's battle reflexes were keeping Natalie's elation in check. Reality, right now, was very cold; and that was how I was forced to see it: through the cold, unfeeling eyes of a Frost Giant. I didn't mind; whatever kept us both alive was just fine with me.

Thor and Tony both adapted quickly to having me in the air, helping me along whenever there was no shadow to leap to. Loki and I were now in the air and on the ground, seeing both sides of the battle, acting and reacting on all sides of the field, all at the same time. And Fraye… well, Fraye seemed only too happy to fight me, Thor and Tony all at once; and indeed, I suspect she rather helped me along with my shadow-steps. Just a little. She wanted to see what I was capable of.

Using Natalie's abilities, we manipulated the shield into the perfect weapon; though it could not move away from her body, it could stretch and warp into a thousand different shapes, from points to flat walls and onwards. Jab after pointed jab was thrown, blocked by Fraye's shadows, as the blackness beneath Natalie's feet continually dropped away and forced her to find another temporary refuge. Mjolnir crackled with each blow, and we struck together, again and again, with the same battle formations that Loki and Thor had memorized as children. This body might have been Natalie's, but a majority of its strategies were all Loki.

And down below, Natalie's reflexes helped Loki to dodge a Shadow Hound's snapping black teeth. It was very odd, to have two parts of yourself in different places, and yet still be in total control of them. The distance did not mar that control, nor our abilities.

Repulsor blasts came in Natalie's direction; we used them, allowed them to strike the shield and aimed them in a laser pinpoint towards Fraye, carving her shadows apart. But they were only ever replaced by more. If we could just get our hands on her… if we could get past the shadows… we might have a chance… we might _all _have a chance…

The world was flashes of light and explosions and gunfire, lightning and thunder, the next sweep and blow and dodge. We lost ourselves in the battle again, and not just in each other. We no longer thought. We only reacted. Dodge now, strike next, drop to the ground, kick and hit and retreat and regroup. Natasha was next to us, and so was Thor, and Clint's most recent explosion was made a thousand times larger by a blue blast from our spear, and it was all convoluted and crazy and yet our hearts were pounding at the same tempo, and through our exhaustion we felt a thousand times more alive…

Shadows split and cracked in half as Thor cried out at the top of his lungs, an enraged roar that rivaled the Hulk's below us. Mjolnir shattered through the darkness with violent bursts of light, slamming into Fraye's fragile-looking form and sending her plummeting to the ground, crying out as she crash-landed in the ash, sending up clouds of gray. Natalie's support was dropped from beneath her feet as a majority of the shadows in the air fell apart into smoky wisps, but Tony gripped her arms and lowered her to the ground. It was unnecessary, but it was better this way, for moments later, Fraye was laughing again; and the shadows swirled in a vile tornado around her and Thor, a black twister that sent Natalie and Tony- who were both on its edge, while Fraye and Thor were safe inside of its eye- flying backwards and around. Each of the shadow gusts sharpened into a million needle points, sharp and stabbing, and intensely lethal.

"Stark!" Loki's words, Natalie's mouth, Loki's reflexes, Natalie's arms pushing Tony out of the way as these points drove themselves towards him with enough force to penetrate even his metal skin. Shadows shattering around the bubble. Stark's repulsors firing again, trying to carve out an entrance into the eye of the Shadow Storm, even as true clouds and rain and lightning began to boil around it, a merging of two of the most powerful forces in nature: Darkness and Thunder. The two clashed together in a display of raw power and magnificence, storm clouds merging with shadow clouds, lightning and inky darkness converging into one and all battling, all struggling for supremacy. White flashes could still be seen inside of the storm's heart as the two occupants inside of the storm still fought. It was utterly beautiful, the darkness intermingling with the crackling blue, the grey clouds and pouring rain suddenly seeming more defined by the shadow's black outlining, the two forces battling and becoming completely… gorgeous.

It was also scary as hell.

And amid all this, the battle we were still fighting, descending into chaos, defined only by picture-flashes of images and sounds in our memory. Loki by Natalie's side. The twister rising ever-higher to the skies, accompanied by the sound of Fraye's sickening laughter. Thor's ferocious battle cries, demanding blood. Natalie and Stark fighting the Hound that had reached towards them, ignoring the sounds inside the cyclone.

Together, we fought, and all the while, we planned. Tried to determine our next course of action and, at last, found it.

It did not matter if they were Loki's or Natalie's words that called the Hulk's name, for we were the same person and we were both shouting through Loki's mouth. It was his long, pale finger that gestured to the ever-raging twister as we all fought to get away from it, from its raging winds and powerful darkness. Both of which were trying to suck us in and bring us high above the clouds. _"Destroy it!_" We… suggested. (One does not order a Hulk around.)

The Hulk saw a new thing to Smash. Ripping open the jaws of the Shadow Hound in his grasp, the thing that was once Banner made it to the cyclone in a single, awe-inspiring bound. Again, ballads could be written about that. Big Green had style. Or rather, an extreme lack of it: he was all brute force, no subtlety. It was a sight to behold.

Rain was making the ash beneath our feet slick, and we slid and stumbled away as the Hulk threw himself amid the tornado, holding his position there and roaring through his gargantuan teeth, blocking the shadows and the wind, catching a great deal of lightning as well.

Inside the now-partially-torn-open-storm, we saw Thor and Fraye fighting. We had never seen Thor so… frenzied. Not when Loki had threatened Jane's life. Not when the brothers had been battling on Stark Tower. Never. Fraye had hit Thor precisely where he lived, draining his heart of any defenses by taking Jane out of the equation, then displaying her many-year-old artwork on Loki's skin to Thor following this. Too much pressure; Thor had cracked. Big time.

You don't want to see the Norse god of Thunder _crack. _

We threw ourselves through the opening- one of us was ahead of the other, we weren't sure which- and Stark did the same, as the Hulk was forced out of the shadow twister and back into the fight with the Hounds; there were precious few people keeping those suckers off of us now, and Loki's eyes had seen Steve taking a very nasty hit a while back, making it even less.

It was us, Stark, and Thor against Fraye, but it seemed that Thunder-Boy didn't want to let us at her. His fury had reached its ultimate climax. He was still shouting, and I was certain that he was seeing and tasting blood. As we charged towards Fraye, however, the shadows converged on Thor. Most were blocked by repulsors, and by blasts from Loki's spear. But one pierced his upper arm even as Natalie threw herself in front of the rest, and another bypassed her, turning into smoke and flowing around her, driving itself deep into his armor, into his side.

We saw this through Loki's eyes, and we both cried out as one: _"THOR!"_

Thor grunted in pain, staggering backwards, but the pure bloodlust in his eyes kept him advancing on Fraye.

Until another shadow struck him in the back of the head.

"_NO!" _

It did not matter whose cry that was, nor which one of us voiced it; there was no variance in our vengeance. We both wanted Fraye dead the instant that sight reached our eyes and we were both charging towards her as Thor pitched forwards. He was alive- the shadow did not have a point and it took a lot more than that to kill Thor off, we knew from experience- but he was clearly injured. Badly. The storm almost immediately began dying down, and Fraye wiped blood from her lip as she waved a hand, forcing the shadows to retreat from the twister as the lightning faded, pulling the darkness around her and flinging it about, the shadows becoming whips in her hand.

But we were not scared. We were too fascinated to be scared, staring at the dribbling liquid on the corner of her lip.

_So she __**does **__bleed black._

_Let's see how that looks when it is smeared in the ashes of her dead world! _

Natalie's shield expanded to form a sharp point as she used Loki's push for momentum. Fraye dodged this point, but smirked; the weakness, the gap in the bubble, was now away from Natalie's mouth, and closer to Fraye herself. She used this to her advantage, shadows pouring in through the gap and underneath the bubble, inside of Natalie's second skin, infecting it, riddling it with its foul disease. And then the shadows were everywhere, cutting off Natalie's sight, but Loki's eyes were still uncovered, and so we could still see…

And then…

Then pain.

There was nothing but pain.

It was everywhere, splitting, utter, sheer agony. The shadows receded away from us, but we barely noticed; we were crying out, hunching over, clutching our stomach and side. The sheer, crippling anguish sent shockwaves of horrific pain through us, our nerves raw and frayed and torn to shreds. Fraye smirked as she stepped back, and we were trembling as we realized that Thor had fallen completely, that he was bleeding into the ashen ground… but then, so were we.

The pain was so intense that the bubble flickered out of existence, rage no longer present enough inside of Natalie to keep it alive. We were screaming; but which one of us was in pain? Which one of us had been injured? As interlocked and intermingled as we were, we could not tell…

We staggered and limped and crawled towards each other, trying to wrench our thoughts apart, to distinguish boundaries and barriers when everything was twisted and confused by agony. Tony was shouting something that none of our ears could hear, because we were so far away from this battle field, because one of us was dying, and we did not know _who…_

We made it to each other and clutched each other's arms, but whose arm was whose, whose hand belonged to what thought and was this memory mine or yours, and who's _pain _is this, this hideous, all-consuming _agony _that _will not stop… _

We saw blood. It was red blood, but that meant nothing, we both bled red. At least while Loki was in this form, we did. We tried to put pressure on the wounds, but had lost control of our hands-whose were they? Whose eyes were staring back at me? Green eyes were… whose?- we couldn't think, the boundaries shattered.

It took a great deal of concentration- a nigh impossible task with such intense, crippling pain- but slowly, _slowly, _the borders between our minds began to reestablish themselves. Somewhere, dimly, we recognized that the battle was still going on, that the Hulk and Fraye had once again locked in one-on-one combat, with Tony and the others protecting us and Thor from the still-advancing Hounds. But these battles were nothing compared to the one we were so desperately fighting inside of our minds, trying to assert ourselves again.

For a second, I snapped back into Natalie's body, and one of us whispered through her lips, "It's you." But we couldn't tell who had said it. It hurt so badly… there were tears rolling down both of our cheeks, involuntary, barely noticed.

We stared at the hand reaching for the wound and willed it to make sense… slowly, _slowly, _we remembered the difference between us, and realized that it was Natalie's- I mean _my- _hand. After all, it was small, feminine, and the nails chewed from prolonged exposure to superheroes. But was I reaching towards Loki's side, or my own?

Another long reassertion of ourselves later, and the world began to ring in my ears- _my _ears, not _ours, _not anymore- as, blood pooling between my fingers, I put pressure on the wound.

Loki's wound.

Loki's pain.

There was so much of Loki's blood….

"It's you," I repeated, shaking from head to toe. The pain was diminished in my head, but not by a great deal. Loki was trying to breathe, but it was becoming very difficult, nigh impossible. His left side, from lower chest to his leg, was soaked with blood. His armor was cracked in half and his clothes in that area had been torn to shreds. The wounds were like claw marks- we could not tell how deep- and already becoming infested by smoking darkness.

I swore, jammed my fists in my eyes to clear the tears, and looked around quickly. Fraye and the Hulk were fighting it out, with Fraye still laughing and dancing and acting like she was just a freaking happy little pixie in a cotton candy utopia. The Hulk kept getting close, but never actually hitting her as she threw slices of shadow in his direction, black blades that did not quite cut through his thick green hide. Yet. She'd made him bleed once before.

I was still in crippling agony, on my knees beside Loki. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, but I had to say something, and so the words started pouring out. "Loki, Loki, listen to me, you're going to be okay, we're gonna get you outta here, you're gonna be fine…"

He winced. "You never… _could _lie to me, Frost," he managed to wheeze, hunching over the injury, pale and losing blood fast. He grunted in pain and tried to keep from collapsing to the ground. He was getting dizzy; the pain was pushing him to the edge of passing out.

"I can lie to anybody," I babbled. "But I don't have to right now, okay, 'cause we're gonna get you out, we're gonna…" My eyes flashed around the battle field again. Stark and the agents were being overrun by Hounds. Steve was unconscious; and the spies were being forced to protect him, as they were protecting us.

We'd taken a beating this time. A bad one. My breathing came in quick, fast gasps as my double-heartbeat (mine and Loki's) echoed in my ears, swift and rapid, going three times faster than was probably healthy. My gaze was whipping back and forth, gauging the situation.

I turned to Loki, pressing my forehead against his so that his eyes were forced to look at me. Our heads knocked lightly together and that little burst of pain between his eyes kept him from fading, from passing out. "Listen to me, _listen! _We have to retreat! We need a way out, _now!_"

He looked at me like: _have-you-lost-your-mortal-mind? _"There's no way I can…" He started to fade. I slapped him across the face, pulling him out of unconsciousness. It wasn't the blood loss doing this to him, not yet. It was the agony. Agony that was transferring itself to me in a very nasty, ugly way, and I was fighting a scream, and I was still crying, but we had to get out of here, we had to get everyone _out… _

"You're the _only _one who can!" I shrieked, allowing his agony to slip out in my words. We didn't have the Tesseract. We didn't have another way out. Unless Fraye showed mercy (HA!) then Loki was our one and only chance. My head was on fire. I wanted Loki to pass out, too; it would ease the pain inside of my skull. I'd be able to think better.

No. No, that wasn't true. Because it wasn't the pain that I couldn't think around.

It was the pure, utter _terror. _

_This is my nightmare. Loki is going to bleed out in my arms and I'm going to be left without him. I'm going to be alone and this is my worst nightmare and I can't live without you, I can't, I can't, I can't, please don't make me, I won't, you're gonna be okay, please, __**please, **__I'm begging you, be okay…_

These were the thoughts that I had to force back, to swallow down, over and over again. I gripped his shirt collar. There was no way, with this terror, that I'd be able to bring the bubble back out. There wasn't enough anger left in me for that. No more vengeance. I was no longer a fury-fueled superhero, hell-bent on revenge. I was a powerless, scared little girl on the battlefield, and there was nothing that I could do. I was weak, defenseless, and completely helpless.

I started shaking him. "Please, Loki! You've got to _try! _Get us to Asgard, we'll be safe there!"

"We weren't before!" He shouted, then screamed aloud, collapsing onto his hands and knees. His skin was pale and sweaty, his always-perfect hair a complete mess, and he was shaking, bile rising in his throat. "Magic requires-"

"Energy and pure concentration, I know!" I shouted. "But we are all going to _die _if you don't do it!"

I gripped his shoulders, holding him off the ground. _You're going to die! _I shouted in my head, in _his _head, loud and echoing, reverberating through our bones. _You're going to die and I won't see that, you can't make me live through that, I will __**never **__let you die, do you hear me?! Please, __**please, **__I know you can do this, I know you can, you've got to __**try…**_

His green eyes searched my brown ones. I stared back in pure desperation.

Then, he closed his eyes and concentrated. _You, _he warned me as magic began to flow down his fingertips, _are going to be the death of me, mortal._

_Not if I can help it, _I answered, standing. Though I was quivering from head to toe and I had absolutely nothing in the way of powers, I was heading back into the battlefield. _I'll buy you time. _

He was focusing too hard to protest. "Tony!" I shouted. Stark looked down. His armor's paint was scratched and scuffed beyond repair, and one of the lights in his eyes had been busted. I could only hope that the eye itself was okay. "I'm heading for Steve, cover me!"

He must have seen that my force field was gone; it could be picked up by cameras; in fact, that was all that cameras would see; a shimmering blue shape, in whatever form I had chosen to contort the field into. So the armor would have been able to detect it, I was sure. Stark nodded and cleared a path with a blast of light; I raced towards Steve, fighting to do the impossible and forget Loki's pain, to ignore it…

It took a few moments of running and dodging, but after a fast sprint through the battlefield_, _I made it to Rogers' limp body. He was still breathing; the Hounds had left him alone when he'd fallen. Bigger fish, I suppose. I took his shield in both hands- it was lighter than I thought it'd be- and threw it over my shoulders like a backpack. I'd seen the captain do the same, and if it fit his bulky shoulders, it would most certainly fit mine…

Yep. It covered my back decently. But, more importantly, I was getting it out of there. Natasha joined me, Clint covering her back-quickly running out of arrows and sporting a lovely flesh wound on his lower thigh- as I started to drag him back towards where Loki was beginning to rip open a portal.

"Plan?" She demanded, helping me to move Steve's limp, heavy and rather uncooperative body.

"Loki, portal, retreating," I kept the explanation simple.

"Thor?" Clint asked.

"With Loki." I gestured in that direction quickly with my head before looking back to the Hulk. "Banner?"

We all fell silent. None of us knew how to get the Jolly Green Giant to retreat.

"One bridge at a time," Clint finally answered, firing an arrow right into a Shadow Hound's ear. It whined sharply, trying to dislodge the arrow by running its claws across its ears, opening large, black-bleeding gashes on its black fur. Seconds later, a bullet to the forehead from Natasha ended its struggle.

I spat blood onto the ashen ground. I hadn't even realized that I was bleeding until that point. But now I saw red drizzling down from above my eye, and there was a great deal of the stuff in my mouth. How the hell did that happen? Why the hell did I care?

Pain exploded in a crimson starburst behind my eyes, and I knew that Loki had gotten the portal open. But it was shaky and weak and ready to close at any second. "Stark!" I shouted. He turned, saw where I pointed, and nodded, charging towards the portal. In seconds, he was helping Thor through. I dropped Steve as Clint and Natasha made it to our destination. The Hounds were converging on the green shape in the distance. There was no way in hell that we could get to him. Still, I shouted.

"HULK!" I screamed. He didn't even turn. "BRUCE, PLEASE! WE HAVE TO GO!"

"Leaving so soon?" Fraye purred, hovering high enough to stroke Hulk's hair and narrowly avoiding a nasty blow to the face when she did so. She wasn't so lucky the second time, catching a strike to her side that sent her in a spin. She landed on the ground, spitting black. Everything that had been done to us… and she was still getting up with barely a dent. She was completely fine. Bleeding a little, maybe, but otherwise fine.

"Natasha!" I shouted as Loki collapsed to the ground, too tired to move but not yet passed out. I pointed to him. "Take care of him!"

"NO!" Clint shouted as I started charging towards the Hulk. He gripped my shirt and yanked me back, so that his arm could wrap around my neck and shoulders, holding me in place. "There isn't time, Natalie!"

Natasha agreed. "He's right, Natalie, we have to go! _Now!_"

"I'm _not leaving him!_"

Natasha pitched Steve through the portal in an undignified way before coming back to my side, taking my shoulders so that Clint could help Loki to his feet (wait, _what?). _The Trickster looked ashen. His eyes were dead and hollow and I had to keep up every last barrier we had in order to keep his pain from crippling me.

"We can't help him right now!" Natasha shouted. I hadn't realized until this point that she hadn't gotten through unscathed, either. Long claw marks had cut across her shoulder and down her arm, bleeding onto me. She seemed to not be paying attention to the injuries. "There's nothing you can do!"

I struggled against her grip. "He needs us!"

"He can take care of himself!" Natasha shouted, turning me around forcefully, pointing me in the direction of Loki. "_He _needs you, Natalie! You're not helping _anyone _by getting yourself, and _him, _killed! Understood?"

Tears were burning my eyes. Loki didn't have the strength to look at me. He couldn't even think anything properly; he was slipping into unconsciousness. More than that, he was fading into delirium. That portal wasn't going to last much longer. Already, it was flickering.

I looked back to the Hulk. The Hounds were still advancing; Natasha shot one between the eyes, but it kept coming. And far across all of that shadowed fur and black teeth, Big Green was still fighting as though there were no tomorrow.

"We're coming back," I growled, not even looking at Natasha as I flung myself through the portal. She followed soon afterwards; Clint and Loki had already gone through.

We arrived on the other side unscathed. The portal was still open; shadows seeped through it, and Clint fired his last arrow through; it exploded somewhere, either on the other side or in the middle of the portal, but either way Loki passed out and it closed. He slumped to the ground, and we all fell down or leaned against walls, and I was already by Loki's side and holding him close, trying to put pressure on the wound…

An Asgardian sentry looked at us, startled. I glanced around and, somewhere amidst the pain, the fear, the fury and the fight that had been drained out of me, an insane, disjointed laugh managed to find its way out of my lips.

Because of course, Loki had taken us right back into the safest place he knew: the library.


End file.

Avengers, Adventure, Sci-Fi