Avengers 1. Prologue

**Hello, dear hearts! Thank you to all of you who reviewed, and favourite/followed _The Uninvited._ It proved to be very inspiring!**

**Here we are, then. This will carry on 18 months after the events of _The Uninvited__, _but the following chapters will be flashbacks. It may only be a prologue, but the mysterious vampire gets a name, and...well, I'll let you read on, shall I? **

**Hope you enjoy it!**

**LookAliveSunshine03**

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from _Avengers Assemble. _They are property of Marvel Studios and Walt Disney Studios. The character you do not recognise, however, is my property. Thanks.

Italics: Recorded speech

* * *

An Unorthodox Hero

An _Avengers Assemble _fanfiction

Prologue

I'm being taken into what can only be described as a black box – or perhaps a cell would be more appropriate? It's disappointingly sparse when compared to all the impressive technology they're confident in thinking they're keeping secret. Perhaps New York didn't teach them anything after all.

Inside the cell, there's a table, three chairs and what appears to be a recording device.

This is going to be fun.

I come quietly, even stumble a little to let them lull themselves into a false sense of control. Then they push me into the chair on the left, and snatch the redundant bag off my head. I pretend to squint and demand where I am.

They can't tell me that, one of them says. It's Classified. Of course it is. _Everything_ about SHIELD is; people like Stark wouldn't have the urge to sniff around it, otherwise. I'm tempted to tell them that any information they want out of me is Classified, but don't, because there's a folder on the desk with my name on it.

Beneath that are two words: _NEW YORK._

I knew it. My chest suddenly feels that little bit too tight. Is this what they call a heart attack?

The one on the right switches on the Dictaphone. His name is Frederickson, I learn. He has bright, laughing eyes and a busted-up nose, yet he's suspiciously jovial. I spot the ring on his finger. An ex-spy, then, who has probably taken up a more office-based role. He's happy with that. His wife knows he's safe, what with the baby on the way.

His side-kick, on the other hand, is disquietly silent. I can't read him so easily. He's called Agent Magnus, apparently. He's built like a rhino, wearing a shirt that is struggling to cope with that much muscle, especially with his arms folded like that. I don't like his blank expression. It's the look of a soldier. Is there such a thing as a good or bad soldier?

Yes, there is; I know there is.

Frederickson tells the speaker that it's the 5th September. The time is 18.25. Can I confirm my name? They already know that, so there's no point in lying. My name is Grace. Grace what? Grace Taylor.

A very sweet and unassuming title for a woman such as me.

What was I doing on the 22nd August in 2012 at 20:34? No empty pleasantries, that's a relief. I can't help but ask why they want to inquire about something they already know.

It's a statement. They want it on record. Magnus' eyes flicker when my gaze drops to the table. Perhaps it is time I told my story…just not with all the details.

"_Alright. __I was on holiday in Stuttgart. There was an event going on at one of their museums, so I decided to have a look."_ I shrug, because it's true.

"_Without an invitation?"_

I look up. How on earth do they know that? _"Yes."_

"_Why?"_

"_Because I could." _My expression doesn't change.

"_Because you could!" _Frederickson's tone says it all. I'm a bad girl.

"_You wanted the truth, Agent Frederickson."_

"_Did you know Loki would be there?"_

"_No. I did not know who he was." _I knew he wasn't human, and I knew I wanted to kill him. I lick my lips, forgetting myself. _"__Not until he dragged the humans out into the square."_

All that fear…the air had been sick with it, laced with the alien sweetness of his magic.

"_You tried to kill him?"_

"_Tried and…failed."_

"_A woman with abilities like yours…and you couldn't kill him?"_ Magnus has finally spoken. He's gruffly dubious. He doubts me. It is as if he wants me to show him what I'm capable of. I suppose it will make this interrogation that little more interesting.

"_I've only ever fed from humans, Agent Magnus. To kill a man simply because he unnerves me doesn't seem like a good enough excuse –"_

"_He killed eighty people in two days."_

I didn't know this. I've only managed ten people in two days, and that was because I hadn't fed in a while. _"Well, if I had known that, I might have been more…motivated."_

"_Do you not care about humans?"_

"_If I didn't…well, you would be too busy being dead to ask such a broad question."_

His gaze flickers. _"Are you threatening me?"_

"_No, Agent Magnus, I was stating a fact."_ I sigh. _"Loki was unlike anyone I'd ever met before. You understand, don't you? Under all that fear, anger, and horror, you must have been as curious as I was. What limitations could a – a god possibly have?"_ A massive, green rage monster, for instance? _"I suppose I would have succeeded that very night, but the Captain got in my way."_

Frederickson is flicking through my file. _"You were taken aboard the Helicarrier."_

Ah, yes. The flying metal death-trap. _"Romanoff was instructed to bring me there, after my part in Loki's capture." _My accidental part, more like. My voice freezes over. _"Apparently Fury needed as many freaks as he could get to bring the guy down." _

One bite and it would have all been over. I keep telling myself that, even now.

If only it had been that easy.

* * *

**It was so fun to write this chapter! Let me know what you think :D**


	2. Chapter 1

**Hello, again! After watching 'Avengers Assemble' again over Christmas (I've lost count of how many times I've seen it now!), I was inspired to finish this chapter!**

**Enjoy!**

**LookAliveSunshine03**

**Disclaimer:**** I only own Grace Taylor. The rest of the characters belong to Marvel.**

_Italics within speech marks - _**recorded speech**

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**Chapter 1**

Let's go to the museum, I said. It'll be fun, I said. It was so typical; on the one night I decided to be that _little_ bit impetuous, it all ended in tears.

No, scratch that. It all ended in tranquilizer dart - with the strength to knock out a herd of buffalo.

_"__Miss Taylor," _Frederickson is speaking again, briskly. His heart rate gives him away, however. He's excited to hear what I have to say. _"__For the record, can you describe to us what happened after Loki revealed his true identity?"_

I play for time, amused. _"__You mean in Stuttgart?"_

Magnus makes a quiet noise of impatience. _"__Yes."_

I take a breath, measuring how much to tell them. _"__Picture the scene: humans, scattering like cockroaches to get as far as possible from a lunatic in golden horns. And all it took was the murder of one innocent man._ _That was before _they _arrived to save the day." _I grin. _"__I don't need to tell you who _they_were, do I?"_

Neither Frederickson nor Magnus answer me. Maybe they thought I was being rhetorical?

_"__Romanoff ordered him to stand down. He didn't, and so the Captain – Captain America – had to intervene."_

_"__You tried to kill him," _Magnus said bluntly.

_"__No," _I reply too quickly. _"__Not exactly. I had chosen my time to attack and…the Captain got in my way. That is all." _It was his fault, not mine.

Magnus doesn't believe me. _"__Did you know who he was?"_

_"__Who, Captain America? Yes." _Does he think I am that stupid? _"__He had his shield and his uniform on. You couldn't miss him."_

_"__What about Stark? Where was he?" _Frederickson presses. I see he is a fan. How cute.

_"__He was there, too. He tried to blast me, but I dodged him." _He wouldn't forget that, either. _"__It was not him who knocked me unconscious."_

_"__Do you know who did?"_

_"__No." _I grind my teeth. _"__Do you?"_

_"__No." _Damn.

_"__What happened after that?"_ Magnus asks.

_"__I woke on-board the Helicarrier," _I reply, and the memory falls over my vision.

* * *

_Eighteen months earlier..._

I'm lying flat on my back and cannot move. That's a first.

I came around about two minutes ago to the hum of large engines, and the clipped footsteps of soldiers. So I've been kidnapped by the military – the _American _military, if their accents are anything to go by. Hm.

They have put me in a metal cell, cold and clinical; a sick bay, perhaps. Piercing fluorescent light stings my vision. I feel stiff and there's a strange weight across my torso.

Oh and there's a pair of cameras staring at me, one in the top-right and the other in the left-hand corner of my cell. They're doubtless watching me right now, laughing at me.

I look down – and groan. Okay, so I am strapped down to a medical bed with special restraints. I'd call that incredibly suggestive if they weren't so uncomfortable.

There's three all together: across my collar bone and arms, under and around my legs, and another one across my bust. They stretch and bend with my struggles, like black elastic, so I'm soon panting and sweating from my efforts. My arm hurts. Ugh. Whatever material they're made from, it must have taken years to perfect.

They did a very good job, but why use them on me? I'm quite docile, really.

I roll my head to the side, and – ouch. The left side of my neck is tender. What could have possibly…?

Oh, I remember. Because I tried to tear Stars n' Stripes' arm off. It was his fault; he got in my way. I also remember something very small and sharp nipping at my neck, before the world went for a spin around me.

I force myself to relax in spite of the growing anger in my chest. I don't recall falling down, but the look on the Captain's face as I went to wrench that shield out of his grip…it was obvious he had never seen such phenomenal strength in such a little woman. Poor man. As if he hasn't got enough drama on his plate.

Shame he had to intervene with _my _hunt for _my _prey.

Loki, he called himself. Loki, like the God? I'd thought. Okey dokey. That was before he made up that poetically communistic monologue of his. Well, after all he had done, one could only accept that as the truth.

I would have thought it all absurd a year ago (says the blood-thirsty she-demon). But who could forget all those online videos? The grainy camera-phone footage of a fourteen-foot, silver warrior, laying waste to that town in New Mexico; oh, and lest we forget that guy in the red cape and hammer?

The sci-fi forums had gone into meltdown, naturally. It was a hoax, some said. Absolutely not, others said. How could a hoax contain over twenty videos of the same footage? And if a millionaire can build a flying suit, or a frozen super-soldier from the 1940s can be defrosted and _survive_, who's to say something like this can't happen?!

Very true, says the vampire (though she loathes the name). Very true, indeed. Humans are such fun to observe; any hint of conspiracy or supernatural oddness, and their heads and internet explode.

Yet _somehow _the woman in the helicopter knew I was a threat, otherwise the Captain would have tried to fight me himself. I wonder who would have won _that_ battle.

Except…if he and his men (and woman) have kidnapped me, you could say it's a bit of a worry. Tony Stark wants to parade around in a metal suit, and be the centre of attention? That's fine. Me? No. Because I am in that category of supernatural oddness. And everyone knows what humans do when they get their hands on something like that.

I may not know exactly where I am, but I know one thing: I'm in trouble.

But I can't escape; I've already tried that, so I suppose all I can do is…wait and see who my kidnappers are.

"Whoever you are," I turn my gaze directly to the cameras, silently hoping they can hear me. "I would like to know who is in charge, and I would like to know where I am."

There is no reply. Why am I not surprised?

"Is the Captain alright? I'm sorry for what happened." I pause. "That man, that – _Loki _– I was going for him, and he got in my way."

* * *

_"__You have already said that, Miss Taylor," _Magnus says impatiently, knocking me out of my reverie.

_"__Well, it is true," _I insist, blinking. This is getting boring fast.

_"__What happened after that, Miss Taylor?" _Frederickson asks.

_"__I was paid a visit," _I murmur. _"__By Director Fury."_

* * *

There's something unnerving about a man in black leather. Particularly a man in black leather, wearing a matching _eye-patch. _How did he earn that?

I'm going to be interrogated by a pirate. No, be serious, Grace. Be serious like him, like the bald man on the screen that just appeared like a hologram before me.

Did he steal that tech off Stark?

He has the face of a man with the world on his shoulders. Stern lines crease the skin around his grim mouth, and a jagged scar pokes out from under the patch that covers his bad eye. The good one glares at me.

"Hello. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?" I ask as politely as I can. He looks like someone who is good at barking orders.

His name is Fury. _Director _Nicholas Fury. It suits him, I think. He demands to know who I am, and his tone suggests no argument. Something tells me that if I lie, he'll know.

"Good evening, Director Fury. My name is Grace Taylor. May I ask where I am?"

Straight and to the point. Was he expecting me to beg to be let go? That isn't my style, and that seems to impress him. Although it's tough to tell with a face like that. He must be an incredible poker player.

He tells me I'm on-board something called the Helicarrier, which sounds like something he just made up…but then he steps back, revealing a sprawling hive of agents on either side of him, all swarming around numerous computer screens.

But it's the wide, gaping expanse of blue sky beyond them that I'm concerned about most of all.

"Oh. Are we in the air?" My voice is quite calm, unlike the rest of me. Exactly how long have I been out? "Where are we going?"

Fury doesn't tell me – however he _does_ tell me that Loki has been captured, and he's willing to let me go, if I promise to be good and to not attack anyone.

"Is that why I'm here?" I try to wiggle to demonstrate, but I cannot.

"After the stunt you pulled on Rogers –"

"I meant no harm to him." I hope he is nearby to hear this. "Your people are safe."

I want to know where they're keeping Loki. I want to pay him a little visit.

But Fury raises a sceptical eyebrow that says _I'll be the judge of that. _Oh, very good. He's no idiot, and…rather intimidating, in a prickly way. I admire that.

"If you think I am a threat, why not kill me? That's what you people do, isn't it?" I ask quite reasonably.

I don't even know who _they_ are, but I've seen enough 'I Am America' films to know what the American military do with threats like me. Seek and destroy. Ask questions later.

* * *

_"__And that was when he asked me to join his little band," _I say, leaning back in my chair. _"__I thought he was joking…" _Till I learnt Fury hasn't got much of a sense of humour at all, not in the face of certain war and human destruction anyway. But I wouldn't find that out until later.

_"__So why did you decide to join?" _Magnus demands.

I smirk. _"__It's quite simple, Agent Magnus," _I say. _"__I wanted to kill Loki."_

_"__But you didn't." _Oh, he has been waiting to say that the whole time, hasn't he?

I blink at him. That throbbing jugular of his looks rather tempting. _"__The Thunder God would not allow it. You cannot argue with a guy with a hammer that size."_

Frederickson grins but doesn't laugh. Very professional._"__You said before, about your arm hurting. Can you tell us why that was?" _

I didn't realise he had been listening so intensely.

_"__Oh. Yes. They had taken a sample of my blood."_ I say it too casually, and that makes them frown.

_"__With your consent?"_

I smile dangerously. _"What do you think? __No, Agent Frederickson. My consent was the least of their worries."_

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**So...thoughts? Please review! :D**


	3. Chapter 2

**Hello, again! I realise it has been a while since I last updated with this, so here we are!**

_Italics: _**recorded speech**

**Enjoy!**

**LookAliveSunshine03**

**Disclaimer: any character you don't recognise within this story is mine. All others belong to Marvel.**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Did I not say I was in big trouble? Because this is precisely why I said it.

I feel sick. Violated. A purple bruise is already blooming on the soft skin of my inner arm. I want to find whoever had the gall to stick that needle in me, and tear their throat out.

They. Took. My. Blood. It was his orders that led to this. _He _made them do it.

I discover this after three burly men release me from my cage. I realise with a jolt that Fury is with them, watching me warily, curious to see me in person. He is as tall as I imagined, at least a foot taller than I am.

I want to see what they're going to do. As it is, my muscles are cramping and stiff, but it takes them and his threat of knocking me out again to stop me from taking out his other, good eye.

He doesn't appear at all fazed that I just attempted to kill him…although the gun in his hand looks awfully bothered by it. He whipped it out so fast, I didn't see it. Now _that_ is impressive.

* * *

_"__Do you know why they took your blood?" _Frederickson asks.

Foolish question. Maybe he's just curious.

_"__Yes," _I reply as patiently as I can. _"__They wanted to know what they were up against."_

_"__What did they find out?"_ Magnus is dying to know.

That is something he doesn't need to know, though, so I carry on like I haven't heard him. Let him stew, and drive himself mad with the possibilities.

* * *

Fury starts to recount what I already know, but I stop him. I don't trust these men to keep it secret. They've probably got more muscle than grey matter.

I spit at him. "You don't need to tell me what I am, Fury. What I want to know is what you want _me_ to do."

The men surrounding me tense up, but Fury pacifies them with a look. "Our world is about to go to war, Miss Taylor. I'm asking you to join the fight to save it."

I just raise my eyebrows at him. He has accepted that I could slaughter him in a second, yet now he's asking me to _help _him. He must be desperate, and I'm beginning to understand why.

"Loki means to rule. He has an army; one not of this earth." The sentence is clipped, yet _gushing _scorn. I like that. The feeling is mutual.

I sit back on my bed, eyeing him. "You mean like…aliens?"

He doesn't answer my question, instead he asks me again. I could quite easily say no. All humans are born to die, so being obliterated (as insane as it may sound) seems inevitable.

Doing something like this would draw terrifying attention to myself, anyway. I shouldn't. That future is full of dread for me. If this works out, and I'm not killed, I will be hunted. Attacks of this magnitude _cannot_ go unnoticed by human media.

What if I say no to Fury? What will he do? Shoot me with that stealthy little gun of his, probably.

Then I remember that I live on this planet too. Okay, so I may not be entirely human anymore, but I sure as hell am not ready to bend the knee to someone who thinks, just because he is a _God_, he has any kind of entitlement to rule over us.

That's right, I said us.

"I accept, Director." My fate is about to be sealed, if not already.

He doesn't smile. I wonder what it could take to make him show any kind of emotion. Rescuing the world from tyranny? I guess we'll have to see.

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**Oooooh. Grace will be meeting the Avengers in the next chapter! Excited? I know I am!**


	4. Chapter 3

**Hi! Surprise! Bet you thought I'd forgotten about this, eh? I've been busy with _The Immortal Saga_, of course****, and the inspiration for this just got a bit dry.**

**Here we are then! Grace is now about to meet the Avengers...**

**Enjoy!**

**LookAliveSunshine03**

**DISCLAIMER: Anything you recognise belongs to _Marvel. _Everything else belongs to me.**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Walking between two of the three security guards (let's call them Rock and Hard-Place), I am being led down an endless amount of corridors that are all frustratingly identical.

This ship _stinks_. It's overrun with scared humans scurrying about, tense and important-like. I do catch some of them staring at me, though that could just be because I'm still wearing my evening gown. A beautiful plum bargain, I'm wearing black shorts underneath. When you're me, you never know when you might need to run or fight, and it is best to do it without the worry of showing off your underwear.

* * *

Magnus looks marginally uncomfortable. _"Miss Taylor, you were telling us about –"_

_"__Meeting the Avengers, I know," _I reply coolly. _"I was getting to that."_

* * *

You can smell the testosterone a mile away. I can't see them just yet, but I count four men, and one woman. She has to be the one who called me in. The Black Widow. Her heartbeat is steady and strong. There's hairspray in her hair and her perfume is faint, but exotic.

I smell expensive cologne and engine oil. That must be Stark, because his heart works harder out of any of them.

Mr. Stars and Stripes has a pleasingly clean scent beneath the memory of his costume.

There are two others I haven't met before. One of them…stinks of something I really don't want to consider. His heartbeat is normal enough, but the sour-bitter tang of _something_ in his blood makes me very uneasy indeed.

We turn a corner, and I see them all together for the first time. The Helicarrier is a bustling mass of activity around them, but the gang seem utterly impervious to it all. I recognise the Black Widow from the helicopter cockpit in Stuttgart. She has gone off to look at a computer screen, crouching down on a step and casually swiping through images of a man. Maybe that's her lover? That must be an interesting role to play.

But my eyes are drawn to the God. I almost gasp. I feel like I need to step back to take him all in. Thor, with arms like iron in _that_ red cape. How surreal, to be in the presence of the one who turned New Mexico into a crater.

His scent makes my pulse quicken. Electric, and_ Otherness._ Like Loki's, only warmer. If I try and bite this one…no, I couldn't. One swipe of that hammer and I'll be dead.

Where's he parked it, anyway?

I am in the presence of greatness. So what does that make me? A pretty, mutated mess in a dress.

They all look to Fury's coming…and to me. They all freeze.

"So Dracula's bride is still alive after all." Stark is the first to speak; as if he would have it _any_ other way.

It's Rogers who is all action. The man with the plan always is. He gets to his feet so fast he knocks his chair to the floor.

I lift my hands up in surrender. "Hey –"

"What the hell are you playing at?" he growls at Fury, glaring at me with such loathing I'm half-anticipating him to pull out his shield from somewhere.

"Who is this?" the man in the purple shirt is asking. The one with the crazy stink.

Meanwhile Thor frowns, clueless. "Dracula's bride? I do not know that name."

Adorable. I want to keep him.

"Miss Taylor has agreed to fight with us," Fury explains. He pushes me forward. "She, too, wanted to stop Loki. Isn't that right, Miss Taylor?"

That's not entirely true, and he knows it. I wanted to _kill_ Loki. There's a difference. But if I need to prove I'm on their side, this is a damned good way to start.

I meet all their eyes. Purple Shirt is the first to look away. Why is he so familiar? "I did not know who Loki was, but he killed an innocent civilian, I knew I had to do something. My name's Grace, by the way. If you were wondering."

* * *

I don't tell my favourite interrogators the part about what Bruce Banner said next. About how he knew my father, Doctor David Taylor, the haematologist, driven desperate by heartache.

He's dead, now, just as I should be.

_"__So…they accepted you?" _Magnus' disbelief is affecting his professional stance.

_"__Mh-hm. They were wary of me, but they weren't trying to _kill_ me, so things were looking up." _I grin. It was only till after the battle in New York that the Captain believed I wasn't going to tear his throat out. How could I? I wasn't a monster. A throat that pretty shouldn't be torn out.

Frederickson does the right thing and changes the subject. _"Where were you on the Helicarrier when Dr. Banner…" _he pauses, suddenly unsure of how to word it.

I decide to help. _"When Banner let the Other Guy out?" _I smile._ "__I was watching Loki."_

* * *

After watching the Black Widow's little performance for him on the monitor, I admit I'm impressed by her. She even had _me_ fooled for a second.

Now Loki is back to prowling his cell; I can almost see his mind working away, now that his plan is out in the open.

Dr. Banner is the Hulk. The Hulk is Dr. Banner. His unnerving smell is justified tenfold. I kind of want to see the one who broke Harlem unleashed, because this meek and mild manifestation is boring to watch.

As an act of good will, I have been supplied with a change of clothes. They won't tell me what they're going to do with my dress. I'm afraid I shall miss it. Their uniform is so _dull_, and it smells of dry-cleaning.

The good news is that Rock and Hard-Place have been dismissed. Hallelujah. Unfortunately I am now under the watchful eye of the Avengers. They have already taken me down once; Fury helpfully reasoned when I questioned this (not without a note of suspicion, I might add); they can do it again if I'm dumb enough to try anything.

Good thing I'm not dumb. But…my throat is dust-dry. I keep clearing it, to no effect. I need something to moisten it, and water just won't cut it. Not for a moment.

How can Loki look so calm? I want him to see me. I want him to _know_ that I am near, and fear it. I stare at him on the surveillance screen, _willing _him to look this way.

* * *

"_That was when the bomb went off_," I say with a shrug. "_Or whatever it was. It proved to be a very nice distraction._"

* * *

What the hell has happened? The hive is in turmoil, and people are running around in a panic. The world has taken on a very slanted view. An engine must have blown.

So…are we going to fall out of the air? The idea makes me angry. If I am to die, it will not be with an empty stomach, or in the wreckage of some military airship.

Then I hear the guttural roar, far away, and I know I am not alone in my anger at all, which is rather exciting. I don't doubt the Other Guy will keep everyone busy, because this may be my only chance to…chat with my supper.

The lights are flickering in panic as I make my merry way towards him and that delectable scent of his. I blend in very well in this new uniform, and no one tries to stop me. They can feel and hear a lot of banging and crashing about beneath us as well as I can. I wonder: how much damage has the Other Guy done? How many millions of dollars has he smashed beneath those dainty green fists?

I hope he's enjoying himself.

* * *

Magnus jumps on that like a wild cat. _"What makes you say that_, _Miss Taylor?"_

I shrug with a roguish smile. _"You humans are so frightened of your own destruction_, _yet you are so willing to blow each other up to stop it. It strikes me as very…hypocritical."_

_"__Says the woman who must kill innocent people to live_,_" _Frederickson mumbles. We've been at this for hours now. He's drunk four cups of coffee. No wonder he's forgetting himself.

_"__Would you be saying this now if I didn't? _

* * *

Well. I am bitterly disappointed that Loki isn't alone. His brother is with him, trying to reason with him.

Of course he is behind all this.

The door to the cell is opening, and for a stupid moment I am confused and panicked. How did Loki do that without pressing any buttons?

Thor has the same idea. "No!" He heroically leaps to stop him, and Loki braces himself in the doorway.

And disappears in a flash of golden light. Thor slams insides inside the cell, and the door slides smoothly shut.

Oh. So that's how it's going to be.

"Are you ever_ not_ going to fall for that?"

My mouth has gone dry. Loki stands at the console, pressing buttons.

He looks at me.

* * *

**Heehee I couldn't resist the cliff-hanger...**


	5. Chapter 4

**Yeah! Another update! Sadly it features the death of Coulson *sob***

**Enjoy!**

**LookAliveSunshine03**

**DISCLAIMER: Anything you recognise belongs to _Marvel. _I'm just using it for funsies**, **NOT for profit. Grace Taylor belongs to me!**

* * *

Chapter 4

Thor is pounding against the glass of the cell with his hammer, bellowing. The capsule trembles with the impact.

"_Stop_," I growl. The glass has already got a spider web crack in it. If he keeps doing that he'll surely fall.

Outside his cell, Loki is still watching me. Assessing me. He doesn't look afraid; in fact he appears to be enjoying himself. I could probably tear his throat out right now…but that sceptre is quite deterring.

"The humans believe we are immortal," he taunts, and I don't know if he is just talking to his brother now. "Should we test that?"

"I wouldn't," I say, taking a step forward, as the floor drops away beneath the capsule. I stiffen. "Don't." With all the adrenalin running through me, my teeth are starting to poke against my lips, thick and needle-sharp, breaking the skin. _Damn. _

If I jump at him now, Loki will push another button, and Thor will plummet to the world below. What can I do? What are the chances Thor will survive the fall?

I have to keep him talking. It worked with Romanoff, but the taste of blood in my mouth is making it hard to focus.

"What would killing your brother achieve?" I ask. It's a good question, if I do say so myself. "Don't you…want him to witness your victory?"

Oh, I've got him there. Loki actually looks surprised, while Thor howls out a guttural noise of rage. He pounds the glass again. Whoops. Adorable idiot. I give him a look, hoping he gets the message.

_I'll catch him off guard…get him away from the console. Shut up and be good._

Loki narrows his eyes at me. "As I recall, _creature_, you attempted an attack on my life."

If I had a pulse, it would be buzzing in my ears. I fake a laugh. "It's not everyday I meet a fellow predator." I force myself to take a step forward. "You can't blame a girl for getting, shall we say, a… _little_ territorial."

He smells magnificent. Raising an eyebrow at me, he opens his mouth to say –

"Move away, please."

I gasp at the new intrusion. It's…a _human_. In a _suit_. I vaguely know him. He's Coulson…or is it Callaghan? Apparently he's a big fan of the Cap, and right-hand man of Fury. He gave me the uniform I'm wearing.

He's carrying an absurd weapon that looks like something out of _Battlestar Galactica_. Yes. I watched that show.

* * *

Magnus stops me there. _"You saw Agent Coulson die?"_

_"__Yes. I did. It happened so fast." _I shake my head. _"One second he was talking and then –"_

* * *

"NO!" Thor roars, as the smell of blood bursts into the air. I stagger back, bewildered and thirsty. The sceptre's razor-edge is suddenly protruding from Coulson's chest…because Loki can teleport, apparently.

Coulson crumples to the floor, and I catch him, sit him down. The gun is in his lap. Oh hell. I don't know what to do. His blood is everywhere. He's _dying_…but Loki needs to be stopped. I have to _do _something.

* * *

_"__You could have killed Loki then_,_" _Magnus spits.

_"__And you could have saved Coulson_," Frederickson murmurs.

_"__So sure of that_, _are you?_" I sneer, because replaying his death still hurts. I mean, he was willing to shoot Loki. One human with only a gun, against a _God_. A gun that, as it transpired, could have done the job. The look of fury and surprise on Loki's face as he flew through the air when the gun went off has been imprinted in my mind. It cheers me up on a bad day.

_"__Fury asked me to help Coulson_, _but I didn't. He knew Coulson was a brave and good man way better than I did. But Coulson was braver than I was. You're right. Maybe I _should _have killed Loki then_, _but the gun went off before I could do anything._" I pause. _"Let me tell you what I told Fury, because __I want you to understand something. I want you to know that the life I live is no life at all._ _Killing people to survive? After his sacrifice Coulson didn't deserve that._"

"_What about Loki?_" Magnus asks. "_Did _he _deserve it?_"

I grin. "_No_," I say. "_For killing another innocent human_ _in such a way_, _he deserved far worse._ _Now I know what you're thinking_," I go on, when it looks like Magnus is somewhat dissatisfied with that answer. "_I am no better than him_, _murdering people to live. But that's just it. At least _I_have reason to. Loki just wanted to kill Coulson – not just because Coulson was going to shoot him – but because he _felt obliged _to._ He was a cockroach beneath Loki's boot. _So_, _te__ll me_, _gentlemen_," I say with a saccharin smile. "_Who is the better person in this scenario? The demon trying to live_, _or the vengeful boot that wants to squash everything?"_

Their stunned silence is satisfyingly deafening.


End file.

Avengers, Hurt-Comfort, Supernatural