Loki (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
throneenvy) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fossilised2016-02-12 05:26 pm
throneenvy) wrote in fossilised2016-02-12 05:26 pm
Entry tags:
For Darcy
No, Loki.
Those words still rang in his ears even hours after they had been said, as though a bell tolling for his execution. He saw Odin's face with every blink of his eyes, disappointed and dispassionate, as though he cared nothing for the suffering of his younger son. No-- No, not son. He had made that mistake too many times, he was no Odinson, and to believe otherwise was to perpetuate the lie told to him his entire life. He would not be so foolish as to pin hope on those words said before the sleep took the All-Father, where he said he still saw Loki as his son, where the lies had been designed to protect him.
His actions since proved those false. Lies worthy of being told by the Silver-tongue himself.
Despite all Loki had done. Despite upholding his decision regarding Thor, despite proving the elder son had no right to the throne in his arrogance and stupidity, despite saving the sleeping king's life from a mortal enemy and slaughtering his own birth father for his sake, despite acting as a true ruler to destroy a realm that had declared war... still he was seen as wanting. His actions deemed as unworthy, even criminal. And Thor returned to the fold as worthy heir.
He had thought to die when he fell to the Void. He had hoped for once brief, brilliant moment that Odin or Thor would catch him. But they did not. They watched him fall as though they had tossed him to the abyss himself. But he had not died, he had somehow fallen through the gaps in shadow and landed in another realm. He knew at once that it was Midgard. It stank of the mortals, the air had that distinct sharpness that was only found here.
This was where Thor had become worthy once more.
Perhaps that was a sign. Perhaps he could reforge himself once more here on Midgard, perhaps-- or perhaps those were false hopes brought out by a shattered mind. He no longer knew himself if he were insane, and he found he did not care. He only wished to be alone and hidden until he thought through what he should do, until he found a place for himself once more. It was a matter of instinct to cloak himself from Heimdall's gaze, though he had little energy left and exhaustion tugged at his bones even with that small use of his magic.
He did not even have the energy to find one of the cities the mortals had built, scarce enough to even find one of their roads and sit beside him. He used the last of his magic to change his clothing into garb less likely to draw attention, simple black trousers and a neat shirt, before he sat in the dust and dirt and waited for one of their vehicles to pass by.
Loki required transportation, food, and rest. Then perhaps he could begin to make sense of what had happened and plan his next moves.
Those words still rang in his ears even hours after they had been said, as though a bell tolling for his execution. He saw Odin's face with every blink of his eyes, disappointed and dispassionate, as though he cared nothing for the suffering of his younger son. No-- No, not son. He had made that mistake too many times, he was no Odinson, and to believe otherwise was to perpetuate the lie told to him his entire life. He would not be so foolish as to pin hope on those words said before the sleep took the All-Father, where he said he still saw Loki as his son, where the lies had been designed to protect him.
His actions since proved those false. Lies worthy of being told by the Silver-tongue himself.
Despite all Loki had done. Despite upholding his decision regarding Thor, despite proving the elder son had no right to the throne in his arrogance and stupidity, despite saving the sleeping king's life from a mortal enemy and slaughtering his own birth father for his sake, despite acting as a true ruler to destroy a realm that had declared war... still he was seen as wanting. His actions deemed as unworthy, even criminal. And Thor returned to the fold as worthy heir.
He had thought to die when he fell to the Void. He had hoped for once brief, brilliant moment that Odin or Thor would catch him. But they did not. They watched him fall as though they had tossed him to the abyss himself. But he had not died, he had somehow fallen through the gaps in shadow and landed in another realm. He knew at once that it was Midgard. It stank of the mortals, the air had that distinct sharpness that was only found here.
This was where Thor had become worthy once more.
Perhaps that was a sign. Perhaps he could reforge himself once more here on Midgard, perhaps-- or perhaps those were false hopes brought out by a shattered mind. He no longer knew himself if he were insane, and he found he did not care. He only wished to be alone and hidden until he thought through what he should do, until he found a place for himself once more. It was a matter of instinct to cloak himself from Heimdall's gaze, though he had little energy left and exhaustion tugged at his bones even with that small use of his magic.
He did not even have the energy to find one of the cities the mortals had built, scarce enough to even find one of their roads and sit beside him. He used the last of his magic to change his clothing into garb less likely to draw attention, simple black trousers and a neat shirt, before he sat in the dust and dirt and waited for one of their vehicles to pass by.
Loki required transportation, food, and rest. Then perhaps he could begin to make sense of what had happened and plan his next moves.
no subject
He had not expected the sharp ache to his chest when Thor was mentioned, even if not specifically by name. Guilt clawed through him like a living thing the longer that Jane spoke, with interjections from Darcy. Though her story focused more on the theories of the Bifrost and the way it was used to connect the realms, some bleed of the other circumstances surrounding the last few days could not be helped. And to hear of the destruction caused from this perspective, from the people who had now shown him such kindness and trust, it made him feel as if he had ashes on his tongue.
"Unusual, I shall grant you."
Only long practise in keeping his emotion hidden allowed him to answer smoothly, allowed him to keep the facade going. Revealing himself would do no good, for they would have every right to hate and persecute him. Something he may well deserve, but that he had no intention of subjecting himself to. He may feel guilty and wish to pay recompense, but he was also still a selfish creature at heart.
"My research prior to our meeting was also primarily based in replicating this mode of transportation, and I believe that I will be able to assist you with your calculations."
Her particular research was alien to him, nor had he heard of an Einstein-Rosen bridge, but he did understand the Bifrost. He had to in order to make his own secret ways between realms. He just had to figure out how to present his magic as their brand of science.
"Unfortunately it was all lost during my-- termination from the organisation." From what he had seen of SHIELD, he could imagine they would do this. "It may take some time to replicate. I should not like to take you from your personal notes, however, so perhaps Miss Lewis could assist me?"
no subject
Hadn't she just recently told him all about how stupid she was at anything science?
"I need more coffee first," she said before stamping away, absently turning on two computer terminals on her way to the kitchen area. She'd assumed he would be mesmerized by Jane's beauty and intelligence, as everyone was, and since he spoke the same language, fall into her theories smooth as butter. She couldn't think of any reason an attractive guy would choose her company over Jane's.
Well. She glanced down, noting that she wasn't showing any cleavage.
Perhaps he was simply more comfortable around her, since they'd shared more time together. Her paranoia really was beginning to get the best of her. She huffed at the slow coffee maker, not feeling any better until she had another steaming mug in her hands.
"Coffee?" she called out.
Jane knew this song and dance. "Not right now!"
"How about food? Did you eat?"
The conversation still took place with each girl shouting. "Not hungry!"
"Liar," she muttered. Filling another mug, simply assuming Leita would want one, she tucked a few packages of granola bars into one hand as well and carefully carried everything back, pausing to set the two mugs down by the computers. She tossed the granola bars, save for two, at Jane, winging them violently and missing by a few inches.
She pointed at Leita, then at one of the computers.
no subject
To look at her was to risk madness.
Not that he admitted as much even to himself. He fell back on the other reasons, all perfectly valid, in order to justify his decisions. Darcy was less competent in the sciences, such she had already told him, and thus would be less likely to notice when his equations strayed closer to magic than astrophysics. It was a simple matter of maintaining his disguise, and that would be easier with her observing his work than Jane Foster.
Loki listened to the exchange and watched the flying packages with interest and bemusement. Was this a morning ritual? It had the well-rehearsed manner of something done every day.
"Thank you, I assume this is to be my work space?" He slipped gracefully into the seat before the lit up screen. It was of a different shape than the device he had investigated last night, but it seemed to be of a similar function.
He began to move a pile of papers away from the mechanised writing tray so that he could begin. A book slid out from the middle, well worn and battered. It was open on a stylised depiction of a man holding a hammer aloft and the name writ clear at the top was THOR: GOD OF THUNDER. A library book borrowed to research the Norse deities and forgotten, swept up by SHIELD along with their work and returned the same way.
Loki dropped it as if he had touched a live snake, face paling beyond his control to hide.
no subject
Due to her proximity, she couldn’t miss his reaction to the book. However, she assumed he’d gotten a papercut, the same way she sometimes ended the day covered in band-aids of varying sizes and colors and shapes because she happened to reach for a pile of papers wrong. She saw no immediate welling of blood, but that didn’t mean much.
“Are you all right?” she asked, quickly kneeling down to scoop up the book and set it aside. “Did you cut yourself? Papercuts are the worst. I have no idea how something so small can hurt so damn bad, but trust me, we have tons of band-aids. Hell, I think we even have some liquid bandage stuff somewhere. I tried that once. It was cool as hell, but dear god did it sting.”
During her monologue, she sat down in her own chair and stretched out her legs, logging into her own system. Her Windows background was an image of a beautiful snowy backdrop, on regular rotation with other similar images. It helped her feel slightly less prone to melting on the days when their air conditioning unit went on vacation and the temperature outside soared above 100 degrees Fahrenheit. One of the many things she despised about being in the desert, but six credits was six credits, and if she decided that politics wasn’t for her, she could probably make a killing by becoming an author and writing a creative account of everything she’d just experienced.
Assuming SHIELD didn’t find out about it first and have her assassinated. How dramatic.
She immediately loaded up her music playlist, keeping the volume low. Usually she’d just use headphones, but since she’d need to assist Leita, she doubted he would appreciate her ignoring all of his questions.
no subject
Loki's heart beat an unsteady rhythm in his chest and his eyes seemed locked on the fallen book until it was effectively spirited away by Darcy Lewis. The pages closed to him once more, obscuring the stylised drawing of his brother in shining helm with hammer held high.
He could picture the day so clearly, the exact one where the Midgardians must have seen this image of him to capture so well. They had been so young, Loki young enough not to have even earned his own helm, and Thor had just been gifted Mjolnir to carry by his side. He had been so boisterously excited and determined to find a fight at once, 'worthy' of being killed by his new toy. The more dangerous realms were still closed to them, but Heimdall agreed to let them go to Midgard. They had searched (Thor had searched while Loki demanded they return home) for fierce beasts for a month before Thor had lost his temper at finding none. A roar of frustration, the hammer held to the sky to summon the clouds, and all mortals in the surrounding villages had seen.
Though the book was closed to him now, and such was a relief, Loki half wanted to open it once more and trace the lines with his fingers. To remember a happier time before he knew that he had no right to call Thor brother, before he knew his life had been a lie.
"Ah--" It was a small noise as he was pulled from his reverie to find Darcy already at her computer and babbling about being cut by papers. How was that possible? Was mortal flesh so very fragile that even the soft edge of paper could tear into their skin?
Apparently so. Pathetic.
It was a ready-made explanation for his reaction, however, so he nodded his head at once. He spread his fingers up in her direction, long and elegant, as if to display the non-existent damage done. "There is no need for aid or bandages, the wound has already closed and the pain has passed."
With that, he turned to his personal monitor and began to work. Slowly at first, for the technology was still new to him and he did not know precisely how their primitive science worked, but with increasing speed.
And so it continued for the next five weeks.
Loki settled into his role as Leita and threw himself bodily into the attempt at reparation. For the longer he spent with these mortals, so plucky and determined even in the face of all their failings and weaknesses, the more the guilt for his actions took hold and the madness at learning the truth of his origins faded. To think of Asgard was still to feel pain. Pain of loss, of sorrow, and the tinge of betrayed anger that could not quite disappear.
But that was not his home now, had never really been his home in truth, so he tried to think of it little.
He spent most of his time with Darcy Lewis. Though he passed polite conversation with Jane Foster, for she was indeed brilliant and amenable company, she reminded him too much of Thor. Erik was one he tried to avoid completely, for the tang of his accent was too bittersweet, and he feared being discovered by one who knew the old stories much better than most now living on this realm. And so Miss Lewis became his companion in work and leisure, and she proved surprisingly interesting company.
Through long practise at observing others and finding their weaknesses and vulnerabilities, it was not difficult for Loki to watch the occasional moment where she would look saddened at not understanding, or cover up her inadequacies with jest. He noted all of those moments and filed them. She was an able assistant, and he did make an effort to explain some of his calculations to her in careful language, to test if she would notice they were not science as Midgard knew it.
He remained unfailingly polite to all of them, though he remained evasive and vague on his history. He still did not sleep well. Nor did he eat, for the food tasted of ashes on his tongue and rest was plagued with memories of falling to the Void and all the preceded it. He grew thinner and paler, but his smile remained wide, and his dressed impeccably. He made a show of going out to buy new outfits, but really his closet remained bare and he dressed himself each morning in magic. Tailored suits and smart shirts, clothes that befit the prince he no longer was.
Loki avoided that book of Norse tales since that first morning, right up until this morning near six weeks later. Jane had gone to the lab and Erik was with her, and Darcy had developed a Midgardian infection they rather bizarrely referred to as a 'cold'. Believing that she would remain in her rooms to continue the sneezing and coughing that had come over her, he finally gave in once more to curiosity and dug the book out from where he had hidden it after the first day had been over.
Thus if any mortal should happen to stumble out wrapped in a blanket and in search of comfort food, she would find Loki staring at an open book with rare tears trickling down his face.
no subject
Any and all attempts to coax him into casual wear had been met with a flat stare and no success. She’d even taken to leaving little gifts in his room – a dark green Henley, a sweatshirt bearing the name of her favorite NFL team, even a plain t-shirt with the words ‘Mad Science’ emblazoned across the chest – but as far as she knew, he could have been tossing them in the trash. She never ventured into his room for longer than it took to drop the shopping bag on his bed and leave.
With the bulk of his time, both personal and professional, spent in her company, Darcy suspected briefly that he had developed a crush on her. Paying slightly closer attention to him for the following week proved that she was imagining things, but also allowed her to track his weight loss, note his lack of appetite. Amusement and a developing mutual interest were replaced by concern, and her presents came in the form of various snacks and treats. PopTarts, to see if he enjoyed them as much as Thor; chocolate covered caramels to determine if he shared her passion for them. Leita was slim to begin with; he could ill afford to lose additional weight.
It continued long enough that she vowed she’d confront him, though she wasn’t entirely sure how to go about it. Eating disorders were common enough in women, and Jane herself often forgot to eat if Darcy didn’t follow her around shoving food under her nose, but she had no idea how prevalent it was in men, or what the cause might be. He was attractive, even with the weight loss, so it was possible there was a medical issue he had yet to reveal.
Or there was something else going on. Regardless, she was determined to solve the mystery and keep him from turning sideways and disappearing. Her nerves would be unable to handle it.
If she ever sat down and examined her feelings, she’d note that she was swiftly growing attached to Leita. He took her far more seriously than either Jane or Erik, patiently explaining the methodology behind his calculations, and even passing a few of the simpler ones over to her to puzzle out. He went about it a vastly different way than Jane, one that seemed somehow more intuitive even to one with no scientific background. Beyond being flattered to receive attention from an attractive guy, Darcy was thrilled to be offered the chance to learn, to prove herself.
None of that was at the forefront of her mind, aside from how she’d run into Leita, fresh from the shower, the prior morning. The image of him with wet hair was engraved in her mind in a way that embarrassed her no matter how she’d gossiped about it to Jane. The man could have been a model. Regardless, her focus was on a week’s worth of mail piled on her bed, a couple of papercuts already stinging her fingers. One letter in particular with SHIELD’s letterhead and logo had her attention.
“Holy shit,” she breathed, scrambling off the bed and flinging her door open. She called out, “Jane! Oh my god, come here, you need to see this. Jane?”
Silence. She knocked on Jane’s door, then opened it to peer inside. Nothing. Had Jane returned home last night, or had she retreated to her trailer for privacy? Uncertain, Darcy padded into the living room, eyes bright with excitement. “Hey, Leita, have you seen Jane? You’re not going to…” Her words trailed off as she noticed the expression on his face, tears glistening, familiar concern returning. She took a few extra steps towards the couch, hesitant, rarely having been faced with a guy crying and finding herself at a total loss.
“…are you all right?”
no subject
Really?
Mortals would believe anything.
But some parts of it were more accurate, bits that tugged at everything inside him and filled him with a bittersweet longing, with flares of anger that burned white hot and then dimmed into loss. He had turned the page unsuspecting and been hit with tales of Frigga, Odin's wife, and just the sight of her name brought forth all the worst of what had happened. He missed her so dearly, and he detested himself for missing her. She had known the lie also, she had perpetuated it, why then did he miss her so?
"I believe I may be sickening with your cold." He had noticed streaming eyes were a symptom sometimes, perhaps she would believe such a lie. "It is nothing."
Loki shifted on the couch to make room for her to take a seat if she wanted to. He took the opportunity of his own movement to subtly wipe his eyes and take fierce control of himself, so that his expression could be managed into something more acceptable to be seen.
"What is it you have received? Good news, I trust?"
no subject
Instead of bullying him into confessing what made him cry – for all she knew, he’d read a story in a magazine about someone’s beloved cat needing to be put to sleep; that was one reason she’d stopped reading Cat Fancy at work – she narrowed her eyes, sitting down beside him.
“Hey, don’t blame that on me. I stayed well away from everyone.” She jabbed a finger at him. “If you caught a cold, you got it from someplace else, buddy.” There was barely a heartbeat before she continued talking. “There’s stuff in the medicine cabinet if you can’t suffer through it on your own. Some of it will knock you right out though, so be careful, unless you don’t mind snoozing for the next twenty hours.”
He certainly could use the sleep. If Darcy had fewer scruples, she’d consider drugging his coffee one morning, but even she would never go that far.
Leita brought her attention back to the letter and she immediately brightened again. “SHIELD is offering funding for Jane’s research. As in, enough funding to purchase new equipment, travel, hire employees…” That last part was what had her extra super duper excited. After all, her internship was unpaid, and she had only so much in her savings account to tide her over. She was grateful for those terrible years spent waitressing, no matter how many times her mouth had gotten her reprimanded.
Now, though, was the possibility of actually getting paid to help Jane. However, she had yet to see any official contract, only the letter with the offer and a phone number for Jane to call. There would be caveats – this was SHIELD they were dealing with – but Jane was intelligent and crafty. She wouldn’t let them make any demands she was unwilling to meet.
“This is big. I mean, look at this,” she said, shoving the letter into his hands. “From what Erik has told me, SHIELD controls a lot of money. If this pans out, I’ll be a paid intern instead of an unpaid one! Jane will finally be able to buy actual doodads instead of trying to make her own out of plastic, duct tape, and spit.”
Darcy watched carefully for his reaction. The letter from SHIELD had brought a few suspicions back to the forefront, and while she was almost entirely certain the shady organization had not planted him as a spy, she was still curious whether this would come as a surprise or if he had known this would happen.
And, being Darcy, she started snickering. “I feel bad for their Director though, with that name?”
no subject
"I... see."
He did not even bother to hide the concern that spread across his face with her words. Though it was because he feared for his disguise, as they had no record of any employee such as himself, he knew it would still be a valid reaction for Leita to display. After all, this was the company who had supposedly terminated his employment and then abandoned him in the middle of the desert.
"Do you believe that Jane will accept their offer?" He glanced down at the paper that had been pushed into his hands and scanned it quickly. It seemed generous from what he had learned of monetary issues in this realm, and he did not doubt that Jane Foster would do almost anything to find a way to return to his brother's embrace. And why shouldn't she? In Loki's long experience, Thor seemed to have that effect on everyone. His very presence was like the sun, and everyone gravitated towards him.
Loki's brows drew together as concern grew ever more in his chest. He would be forced to leave should his disguise be compromised and that would make it impossible for him to assist in the repair of the Bifrost. As foolish as it was, it felt as though by fixing this one thing, a thing he had caused the breaking of, he could somehow make repair to everything else.
A small part of him whispered that it was also because he didn't want to leave these mortals. Somehow he had grown used to their company and the strange generosity they had shown a stranger in need.
"It is a generous offer, I grant, but I fear it would not be without complications. SHIELD is not to be trusted."
no subject
“No shit, Sherlock,” she said eloquently, snatching the letter back and reading it over again. “They’ll try to sink their hooks into Jane, maybe even take ownership of some of her research. But if it provides her with the necessary funding and recognition…Jane’s been doing this a long time, Leita, and the rest of the scientific community thinks she’s bonkers. She’s been turned down for grant after grant after grant. This could lead to a breakthrough.”
Not to mention legitimizing Jane’s theories, which might very well hold more sway than all the money in the world. She might decide it’s all worth it just for those two magic words: You’re right.
“And dude, we’d both get paid. Technically by Jane, not SHIELD, I think, but I don’t exactly know how these things work.” She eyed him thoughtfully. “And I think I’m clever enough to manipulate the books so we can pay you without revealing you’re with us, if that is what you’re concerned with. They might find out anyway because they’re crafty buggers, but at least in an official capacity, you won’t exist.”
Two fingers tapped against her lips in a silent rhythm as she thought it over. There were all sorts of expenses she could write off, such as a brand new iPod to replace the one SHIELD stole, and new computers. She’d just need to categorize it properly and get friendly with someone in their accounting department. The latter shouldn’t be difficult; Darcy was social by nature, and considered herself to be easy to get along with.
“But I think we’re pulling the cart before the horse, or however that stupid saying goes. This is just the initial offer. We haven’t even heard their terms, or seen a contract or anything. Hell, I haven’t even told Jane. Did she come home last night?”
no subject
This felt like the sort of offer others made to Thor. The golden prince had always inspired such loyalty and devotion from his friends, Loki had not. To have it now from humans who did not even know his true identity was both achingly wonderful and sickening. For he knew that if they ever did find out, he would lose this in an instant for all he had done before.
This could not last.
He would assist with the reconstruction of the Bifrost and slip away before Thor could use it and reunite with these mortals. They belonged to him, after all, just like everything else of worth. It was a bitter thought, angry and savage, though it only lasted a moment.
"No, she must have retired to her portable home to slumber." He forced himself to focus on what had been said again, not to fixate on that generous offer made by an ignorant friend. For they were friends now, as foolhardy as that may be. "I believe she will be awake, however, you could reach her on her cellular telephone."
Something he had so far disdained getting. Mostly because he had no idea how to use it and did not want to embarrass himself trying.
"There will be no need for her to find funds to pay me, however, nor for you to conceal my presence as a legitimised worker. I shall merely continue to volunteer my assistance as an interested, but ultimately uninvolved, partner."
no subject
“You must be incredibly fucking wealthy,” she said before she could stop herself. “Also, it’s just called a cell phone. Seriously, dude, how rich are you?” It sort of fit with the image he’d been projecting, yet at the same time, something wasn’t right. He’d been so bedraggled on the side of the road, with absolutely no possessions.
Her mind backed up a few paces. Being rich didn’t automatically mean he’d run around with tons of cash and electronics on his person, and she had no idea what SHIELD might have taken from him. They were thieves, after all. But why would someone that rich – and admittedly eccentric; he wouldn’t hang out with them otherwise – bother with this type of research? Couldn’t he single-handedly fund his own? It was almost like Tony Stark deciding to drop by, say hello, and then stay for just this side of forever simply because he was fascinated by Jane’s work.
Which would be pretty awesome, she had to admit, but she kept getting sidetracked. She needed coffee, but the kitchen refused to move to accommodate her laziness and no matter how hard she stared, the coffee maker didn’t magically turn on.
Coming to the conclusion that it didn’t matter one whit why Leita chose to do what he did, as long as it didn’t end up getting them into trouble, Darcy stood up abruptly, calling over her shoulder as she headed back to her room, “I’m calling Jane. She’s going to be super psyched.”
And she was. In fact, Darcy was certain she heard Jane laughing like she’d just lost her mind, but she could have been imagining things.
“Darcy, do you know what this means?”
“More or less, yeah.”
“I’ll bring Erik with me when I meet with SHIELD. What is the number again?”
A brief flicker of annoyance attacked her. Darcy brushed it aside. Why would Jane bring her to a contract negotiation? Instead of sulking, she rattled off the number, already mentally tallying all the components she would need to build them faster computers. Jane breathlessly thanked her for the news and then hung up, probably to indulge in some more villainous laughter.
Darcy, on the other hand, simply set the letter aside and went into the kitchen to brew coffee because damn it, she needed caffeine.
“Jane was pretty happy,” she informed Leita as she passed by again.
no subject
They, therefore, were of little threat to Loki's disguise. They had accepted him for what he claimed to be, Jane enthusiastically and Erik with more reservation, and that was the end of their interest. If he did not wish to talk about his past, then they did not force the issue.
Darcy, on the other hand, was far more of a threat. She picked up on his inconsistencies, she rarely forgot when he slipped in speech or mannerism from the norm of this society, and she had an insatiable curiosity. A man who apparently had no past before the day he was left in the desert was obviously something she questioned, and he had learned to be wary of that even while he appreciated her perceptive nature. She had proven, surprisingly, someone he considered a friend even after only these scant few weeks.
He turned the discussion away from SHIELD when she returned with her coffee and, for the next few hours, he took her through some of his base calculations for the new equations he was currently transcribing into Midgardian scientific terms. No matter what Jane Foster may believe, he had found Darcy a worthy student and did not shirk or shy from explaining things to her.
Thus the evening passed until quite late when Darcy's phone rang. Jane's number. Sadly, nobody had warned her not to tell SHIELD about Leita, and Erik had been insistent on getting a full background now that they were about to become official consultants (SHIELD wanted a way to contact Thor again as soon as possible as well) and were in a position to do so. That had, obviously, led to a shocking and unpleasant discovery.
"Darcy, listen to me." Jane's voice was tense and quiet. "I need you to get out of the apartment and go some place safe. Leita isn't who he said he was, SHIELD have never heard of him. I don't know who he is."
All sorts of terrible things were racing through her mind. He had only seemed to help so far, but why lie? And how had he known about the hammer? Whatever the answers, they clearly didn't add up to her wanting to leave her friend anywhere near someone potentially dangerous and definitely a liar.
no subject
She'd been completely wrong. Not once had she even considered the possibility that some stranger would throw around SHIELD's name in order to work his way into their circle. SHIELD wasn't exactly one of the better known letter agencies, and he'd had intimate knowledge of Mjölnir. How could he have possibly learned all of that without a connection with SHIELD?
Her initial distrust, at least, had been well placed.
"Holy shit," was her eloquent response, even as she was busily getting dressed. Sneaking out of the flat would be easy if Leita was barricaded in his room like he often was so late at night, but if it was one of those occasions where he lingered in front of the television set or was sprawled out on the couch reading, she would need an excuse.
One that would not raise his suspicions.
Where could she go? The first destination that popped into her mind was Jane's trailer, but Leita knew where that was, which immediately awakened a fresh pang of anxiety. "Jane, where are you? He knows where your trailer is. We could both go to the lab, he doesn't have a key."
But so many open windows just begging to have a brick thrown through them.
Not such a great idea.
She bit her lower lip. The closest hotel she knew about was run down and quite possibly infested with a whole slew of vermin. She hated the idea of leaving town entirely, all because of one person, but now that he was in SHIELD's sights, they would dig up all the information they could on him and take care of the problem.
Wouldn't they?
She was getting ahead of herself, making everything more complicated than it needed to be. Taking a deep breath, she thought rapidly.
"Okay. Okay. I got this. Once I'm on the road, I'll call you, and we can figure out where to go from there."
"Don't do anything stupid, Darce."
"I promise I won't make a citizen's arrest. Scout's honor."
"You were never a Girl Scout."
"It's the thought that counts." A soft intake of breath. "Be safe, Jane. Call Erik. He knows, like, everyone in the world. He probably has a place we can crash at."
"Got it. Talk to you soon."
Darcy ended the call and slipped her phone into her bag, slowly slipping it over her shoulder. She didn't bother with packing clothing or toiletries; the important thing was getting out of there without raising suspicion. She could always stop by WalMart.
Trying to calm her nerves, she crept out of her room and made a beeline for the door.
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He was ostensibly watching the television, though in actuality he was deep in thought. He had come to quite like this Midgardian invention, it was a convenient way of achieving the stories of feasts and celebration days at any time. Though many of the 'shows' that he had been introduced to were less palatable than the invention itself. Midgardians watched a lot of trite nonsense.
The show on at the moment had started with a blare of noise and flashing words stamped at diagonal angles, and had then devolved into several overweight mortals discussing their marital issues while the assembled audience vented their displeasure loudly. He had paid attention long enough to realise he thought this the worst sort of banal triviality, before he had descended into his own thoughts.
Mostly about Darcy Lewis, though to a lesser extent also Jane and Erik, and even the mortals on the street.
They had all been so kind to him, so open and genuinely pleasant. For the first time in his life he was not stood in Thor's shadow and nobody's attention came second-place and only out of deference to his brother. Here he was liked, or seemed to be, and even had a friend in Miss Lewis if the frequent gifts of unsuitable clothing and odd-smelling pastries left in his room were any indication.
He knew he could not stay and that it could not last. But even through the guilt and the locked away tumult of emotion over what had happened before, he was... happy.
Loki tilted his head when Darcy crept into his peripheral vision and offered her a surprisingly warm smile, though curiosity sparked in his eyes only moments later. She looked tense, why should that be? Where was she going so late at night?
"I hope it is not the raucous revelry of Mr. Springer that drives you from the apartment so late?"
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She glanced at the television set, surprised that Jerry Springer was still on television and irked that she hadn't known about it before. She clearly had a number of episodes to catch up on. Few shows were trashy enough to keep her attention through a Saturday morning hangover.
"Dude, you should try Maury. So many paternity tests, so much white trash. It's glorious."
Darcy hoped she didn't sound nervous, because she sure as hell felt it. She was in the flat with a complete, total stranger who had willfully lied to them about his name, his past, his association with SHIELD. Everything. And to what end? If he intended to rob them, he would have noticed almost immediately that they didn't have much that was worth the effort. If it was to rip off Jane's work, how had he learned about it in the first place? And why help?
Nothing made sense. It didn't help that she did not feel threatened around Leita, or whatever his name was. Not once had he ever laid an inappropriate hand on her. It almost felt silly to be running away from such an unassuming gentleman, but better safe than sorry.
The lie slipped out easily. "A friend called and needs to see me. Nothing too major, but, you know." She shrugged one shoulder. "Drama. I'll be back later."
Without waiting for his response, she turned and headed for the door, keys in hand.
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He could attribute it to the drama of this unknown friend, but something still seemed to be unusual. Darcy would normally explain the situation volubly, possibly complaining about said friend or whoever had offended said friend at great length. Additionally, he did not think she had many friends in this little town, not other than their small working group.
Loki unfurled himself from the sofa and turned off the television. His suit, despite being sat around in, fell immaculately without a single crease as if it had just been put on that moment.
"Allow me to accompany you, I am too wakeful this evening for sleep and to escort you will be a much more pleasant distraction than the television can provide."
He followed her to the door without waiting for an assent, close enough to touch her though without actually doing so. Merely a position he had stood in many times over the past few weeks, but he was not to know that now he had shifted to being a person of great suspicion and distrust.
"I hope the situation is not too dire, though it cannot be good to pull you out so late at night."
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"Uh, I don't think she'd appreciate some random dude showing up. No offense or anything, but she doesn't know you." She gestured towards the living room with her chin, absently fiddling with her keys.
She could make a run for it, but Leita had long legs, and would probably catch her before she could make it out the door. Slipping out a window wasn't an option unless a broken leg was on her short list of things she really wanted to experience. Damn, how could it be so hard to sneak out of her own damn flat?
She should have waited. It was her own damn fault.
Deceit never sat well with her. Darcy simply wasn't the type to lie, not like this. Her pulse beat rapidly against her skin, adrenaline coursing through her limbs, coaxing her into movement when she needed stealth. A voice in her head sneered that her lies were paper thin, transparent.
Surely Leita would believe her, right?
"I won't be gone long."
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It had not escaped his notice that she had only tensed when he stepped closer and offered to come with her. Was she afraid of him? No, he would have noticed before this night if she had feared him.
So why?
His brow furrowed and he took another step towards her to reach out and place a hand on her shoulder, aiming to effectively halt her progress away from him. It may be nothing, but he could not take that chance. There were few reasons she may have to suddenly fear him, but none led to any good situation. If she knew who he was, or if she suspected, then he would have to deal with it.
"Why are you attempting to flee my presence?"
He did not dance around the subject. There were times for subtlety, but there were also times to be direct. A blunt appraisal of a situation could shock the other person into revealing more than they meant to through surprise or panic.
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He saw right through her. More lies would only further muddy the waters.
"I know you were never with SHIELD," she blurted out, wishing she didn't feel so cornered. Taking a deep breath, she faced him, raising her chin up in a challenge. "SHIELD has no idea who you are. Jane just called and told me."
She studied his face closely, hoping to gain some insight as to how he would respond. If with violence, well, she was pretty much screwed. Maybe she should have tried going out the window after all.
Or she should have shown some patience for once in her damn life. Leita would have eventually gone to bed, and then she'd be free as a kite.
No, that was high as a kite.
"Who are you?" she demanded after a moment, trying to bully her mind back on track.
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The moment that those words left Darcy's lips, Loki's mind began to run on overdrive. There had to be a way to salvage this situation. It was with a mild sense of shame at his own idiocy for getting attached, that Loki realised that contemplating an end to these comfortable weeks of kindness and work made cold knots form in his stomach.
"Is that what you believe?"
He could not tell her the truth.
He could not tell any of them the truth. They would turn on him at once, and justifiably so from their perspective, as he would be the monster who had attacked their town and tried to kill his own brother. They loved Thor, Jane much more literally than the others, and they would doubtlessly take his side. Everyone always took his side.
"SHIELD make a business from secrets and lies, why should they not deny me? They would not want a terminated employee working alongside their newest allies, so what better way than to discredit me?"
Loki made his expression sorrowful; a subtle downturn of his lips, a clench to his jaw, and widening of his eyes. All calculated to make this performance as convincing as he possibly could.
"I suppose I should not be surprised you believe them over me. I am, after all, still merely a stranger. Though I had hoped us to have become friends."
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Potentially dangerous.
Especially right now.
"We're not allies, we're business partners. SHIELD has no reason to lie about past associations. They have nothing to gain from it." She jabbed a finger in his direction, growing more bold, more reckless. "I thought we were friends too, but apparently you've been lying. And now you're trying to make me question SHIELD instead of you, which is exactly what a liar would do.
SHIELD wants this research to succeed, so any attempts to discredit someone who can assist makes absolutely no sense. According to Jane, not a single person in the room showed any recognition when they mentioned you, and she was there when they looked up the files. Jane's not about to just blindly trust them either."
Darcy paused for breath, her cheeks flushed. This was all too much. Everything from the moment Thor had crashed to earth had been a roller coaster of danger and insanity that left her questioning whether or not she should have ever applied for this damn position in the first place. Was six credit really worth nearly getting incinerated by a giant robot? Or having her home infiltrated by a crazy person?
She noticed that she was trembling, and quickly clasped her arms together, trying to hide that fact from Leita. She was frightened, discouraged, tired, and nearly overwhelmed, all things a predator might detect and use to his advantage.
Oh god, why was she thinking as if she was in the middle of a Discovery Channel special?
"Look, Leita, or whoever you are...just...come clean, dude."
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His lie had shattered and now lay in pieces around his feet that could not be salvaged no matter how hard he tried to do so. Jane Foster had been clever in her questioning of SHIELD, making sure to double check the information for herself before she acted on it. But of course she had, she was a scientist and a brilliant one by Midgardian standards.
Loki's eyes widened for a moment, hurt and fear and anger all flashing quickly through before he managed to shutter himself down to a level of control once more.
"I have never been a member of the organisation SHIELD."
His confirmation of what she already knew was quiet. He noted her trembling, the way her body seemed caught between fight and flight, and yet her words and expression were so defiant. He found himself impressed by her courage and fortitude, which only made it worse that he would be losing her. All of this, all of them.
But he could not tell her the truth. It stuck in his throat like a physical obstruction and refused to leave his tongue. Not just for how she would view him, but because he had coped thus far by pushing down what had happened and not thinking too closely on it. If he had to speak of it, relive it, he may well crack beyond repair.
"I chose a lie that I believed would let me help you in your research, for that is all I wanted to do. I have never wished you ill and would not harm you, that you must believe." He took a step back from her as if to prove he would give her the space she needed to run if necessary. "I am a man who has made-- mistakes, ones which left me without home or family to return to. I saw a way to pay some small recompense when you came upon me, I wished only to fix something which had been broken."
This story was full of holes, such as how he knew about their research or that the Bifrost had been broken at all. But it held as much truth as he could manage, and it was all he could offer her.
"I am sorry." Hard words to say, ones he rarely allowed past his lips. "I shall leave, you need not flee from me."
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Where did his knowledge stem from? Who was he? What had he done to isolate himself so terribly, and was it something he might repeat and, in the process, hurt Darcy and Jane?
Mind traveling in circles, Darcy kept returning to the quiet moments they’d shared together. Leita had provided something she was hungry for without her consciously realizing it: legitimate respect. He spoke to her as an equal, listening to her input, taking it into consideration, never dismissing her out of hand no matter how ridiculous she got.
Logic insisted she was an idiot, and she had nothing but instinct to go on, but Darcy trusted him still. Damage had been done to that trust, perhaps irreparably, but Darcy of all people understood what it was like to be a fuck up.
She would also find no answers should she run, or if he left. There was a story he was not telling, and she wanted to hear it.
“Wait,” she said, impulsive as always. One hand clenched in a fist and then relaxed as she fought with herself, battling those terribly inconsistent parts of her that told her to do ten different things at once. Should she offer him a second chance?
Had anyone else ever bothered to do so?
Projecting her own issues onto Leita was a problem, but Darcy did so nonetheless, able to count on one hand how often she’d been given the opportunity. Being wronged in the past was no reason to forgive another person, but she had yet to forgive.
Sighing, Darcy dropped her keys on a side table and set her bag beside it. Leita had never harmed them, even when given ample opportunity. Why would he choose to do so now?
“Wait,” she repeated, wringing her hands together before forcing herself to stop. She tried to channel Jane, to be calm and collected and know all the right questions to ask, but her nerves got in the way. Finally, she fell back on the simplest.
“What is your real name?”
She was offering him a chance. Hopefully he would take it.
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But he could not.
She may never understand why not, but he could not do it. He could not tell her the truth. She would turn from him at once, accusations and anger would follow, and he would be once more adrift. Worse, if he had to confront what happened to him, and his fall through the Void, he may not be the same man he was now when it all seeped out of him. He could feel an anger burn deep within, a bitterness over the lies told to him, and he dare not confront it.
"I am Leita."
His shoulders slumped just slightly and he moved to the side as if to step around her, as if to leave. He could not stay here now, he had blown his chance.
"Whoever I was before, I am that man no longer. His name is not mine to bear and may never be again, I asked only the opportunity to assist. Perhaps one day I shall have that opportunity again."
He swallowed, voice lower when he forced himself to continue.
"I cannot answer your questions, I am sorry."
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