Release, 1/5. NC-17.
Title: Release
Series: #18 in Ready For The Siege
(#1 - Look Over Your Shoulder, #2 - Armed Up To The Teeth, #3 - Misery Inspires, #4 - Broken Underneath, #5 - Change Is Coming Soon, #6 - Lick Your Wounds, #7 - Bitter Sparks, #8 - Father's Will, #9 - To Feel Safe Again, #10 - Hit Your Prime, #11 - Open Your Eyes, #12 - Can't Be Ignored, #13 - Make You Ill, #14 - Aim Straight, #15 - Not The First Time, #16 - Friendly Fire, #17 - Relieved)
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Loki/Natasha, Natasha/Bucky, Steve/Sif
Disclaimer: Not mine! Some comic backstory is incorporated into characterizations, but this is still primarily movieverse.
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-Avengers, AU to the rest of MCU. Alludes to events in prior stories and outright references others. References for Red Room mindfuckery, PTSD, violence.
Title and series title from "The Royal We" by Silversun Pickups.
Summary: Everyone was see-sawing into some kind of equilibrium. Sometimes, it didn't even get traumatic.
One - Pride
Pride was an odd thing.
Loki knew all about pride, of course. He knew he could choke on it if he let himself, he could swallow it down and let it burn beneath his skin. He also knew that sometimes, it was pleasant, that he could do right, he could be appreciated, and that all of his pain could actually hold some kind of meaning.
Much like he couldn't appreciate it years ago, Natasha would never like it if he told her that she was broken. And she wasn't broken, exactly. She was grieving. She was in pain. She was too caught up in herself and her history and her misery. She was too busy grinding herself down with the thousand what ifs that would surely drive her mad.
James obviously loved her back, and wasn't the soulless machine that Steve feared he would be and Loki had wanted to see. If he was a machine, he shouldn't matter. But there was a soul in there somewhere, buried beneath the programming, hints of a person that perhaps Natasha truly could love. Even Loki could see it, as much as he didn't want to. But this definitely complicated things, meant that the alternate reality where he was married to Natasha could never become a reality here. They weren't SHIELD agents, they weren't in love, they didn't have a child and a family and everyone's regard. His title of trickster was derogatory here, not a treasured name that was appreciated.
Rage licked the recesses of his mind, and if it was succumb to rage or self pity, there truly was no contest as far as Loki was concerned.
So rage it was. He wasn't angry at Natasha. Not even James. No, it was the circumstances that had led them all here, the embattled, bitter and twisted journey that left them all tangled and frustrated, aching and empty at the end of the day.
Loki stomped around his suite like a tantruming child, and pursed his lips as he stalked into his office looking for something to do.
Maria Hill's attaché case taunted him from its place on his desk.
Well, then. If he couldn't be helpful to Natasha while angry, doing a little work on her behalf should burn it right out of him.
***
The door slid open noiselessly, which turned out to be a much better idea than smashing it open with a blast of green flame.
Children. Rows of beds, as Natasha had described the Red Room facilities, as he had seen in photographs of old fashioned orphanages from Steve's childhood. Most were empty, but a few were rumpled as if hastily made. There was still the faint trace of their powers, some of them with the familiar taste of magic in the air.
Children. Loki thought he was going to choke on his anger, and he moved from the dormitory into the recreation area. Two were in the corner, playing with blocks, stacking them without touching them. They looked so solemn, as if this wasn't merely play but practice for a test, as if failing this would lead to punishment.
And he remembered that little girls didn't always survive punishment in the Red Room. And that this place was modeled on the Red Room.
They were experimenting on helpless children, twisting them and changing everything about who they were supposed to be.
Rage simmered white hot in his veins, and he found himself instantly teleporting to Baron von Strucker's side. An older pair of children were with him, folders scattered across the desk. It was impossible to tell if he was looking at the children's files or was about to instruct them on their next target to murder. Loki couldn't stand it, and nearly missed the thread of magic present in the girl standing at full attention. But no, he caught the whiff of magic, saw the red glow begin to form in her palms as she raised her hands.
So he stopped time, then grasped the Baron's arm to pull him into the small bubble outside of active time. The Baron was confused, and fell to his feet when Loki struck him across the face, not even using his full force.
"You have experimented on children," Loki snarled.
"They are resilient," Baron von Strucker replied stiffly, getting to his feet. Loki was glad that he wasn't even going to bother hiding what he was doing. It would save him a lot of tedious questioning and torture
"Resilient," Loki echoed dubiously.
"The stone carries such power, and adults were turned inside out," the Baron told him, a pleading edge to his voice. "Too many good men died."
"So you took children." Loki pushed a thread of magic into the man's mind, sparking his terror and ratcheting it up a thousandfold. "Give me everything about your project."
The Baron quailed before Loki, but he took no pleasure out of this. Children. Human children, malleable and vulnerable, forced to take in cosmic power, their spá irrevocably changed. He didn't stop to think of why it was so untenable, why his rage flowed fast and free as it hadn't in quite some time.
Power flowed through him, and it lifted the Baron off his feet, nearly choking him. "St-stop!"
"How many?" Loki raged. "How many?!"
"What? How many died? How many lived?" the Baron stammered, quaking.
Hearing that made Loki almost inarticulate with rage. He snarled, power coming off of him in waves, making the Baron choke on his fear.
"We have thirty one children now. Those two are the oldest, the only two that survived the first wave of experiments fourteen years ago."
"Fourteen years of this."
"We had no choice. With the Red Room gone, we needed operatives. Our agents couldn't be everywhere, couldn't break cover-"
"I want that list of agents, too," Loki purred, thinking of SHIELD. They would want that list.
"I can't-"
"Now, Baron," Loki murmured with quiet menace, making him shiver in fear. He smiled, knowing the effect that it had on others. Sharp teeth, glittering eyes, menace oozing out of every pore. "Can't is an ugly word I don't like to hear."
"You're going to kill me."
"Of course. It's simply a question of whether or not you suffer greatly before I do."
"They were nobodies. Nothing. Throwaway children. Nobody wanted them, and we turned them into miracles!"
Throwaway children. Unwanted. Nobody wanted them.
Loki roared in anger, making the Baron flinch. He suddenly understood why Natasha would devote her professional life for taking down organizations like this. She had been violated cruelly since childhood by them, and she wanted to put a stop to it. Loki could feel his irrational anger spike again, didn't bother to try to figure out the why of it the way Natasha would likely have wanted him to. It didn't matter why he was so angry, but the rage fueled his magic, made it sharper, stronger, crueler.
The Baron bowed and scraped to give him the files and information he wanted, loading everything onto a tablet, the plans and lists and schematics. The stone he had referenced wasn't in his possession, but Loki could easily find it. Humans shouldn't have such a powerful item in their hands, not if this was what they did with it.
No more reshaping children. No more altering them beyond reason. No more killing thousands of the Roma and homeless and mentally challenged and others deemed unfit in Hydra's eyes, the children they thought worth killing if they didn't survive the transformation.
No more.
Once the Baron gave him whatever he wanted, Loki turned his body inside out. The girl with the magic powers was about to let out a burst of brilliant red energy, which was child's play for him to contain. She and the boy beside her were the oldest ones, from the first wave of experiments, and the Baron had mentioned their names. Wanda and Pietro Maximoff, a pair of Romani twins that they had abducted from their mother as children. They had been ten, told that no one else wanted them because of the power they contained, and fourteen years later believed everything the Baron told them.
Well, it was a good thing there was a locked apartment in the lab floors.
It didn't take Loki very long to repair the damage done by Natasha to the locking mechanism and remove the glass walled cell in the living space. A simple set of spells did that as he collected the thirty one children. Though in the case of the Maximoff twins, children was a bit of a misnomer. Hydra treated them all like idiot children, however, and the twins raged at him. Pietro tried to run faster than Loki's spells, and Wanda tried to repulse his magic with her own. She had baby's magic in comparison to his skill, and she bared her teeth as she screamed at him in fury. "I will kill you for this insult!"
Loki merely rolled his eyes and corralled the children through a portal into the empty apartment space. "None of you truly know how to use the potential you were given," he sneered at her. "The Baron isn't the kind benefactor he wanted you to believe." He smiled thinly at all of the children, then dropped a copy of the progress reports that the Baron had been about to peruse before Loki's arrival. Each of the children was called a subject and a number, discussed in entirely clinical terms and whether or not Hydra could use their skills in some manner. Wanda herself was described in less than flattering terms, and her skills were dismissed as insignificant to their schemes because she couldn't take them any further. The other children were younger, with even less defined skills than hers. A few didn't even seem to have discernible power at all, and the recommendation on those progress reports was to expose them again for a longer period of time, even at the risk of death, to try to trigger some kind of change.
"What is this?" Pietro asked.
The former portal was gone, and Loki opened a new one behind him. It led to a bland, featureless hallway not too far from Maria Hill's office.
"That is what the Baron really thought of all of you," Loki said, voice dripping with charm and sarcasm in equal measure. "What you do with that knowledge is up to you."
And with that pronouncement, he stepped backward, away from the children, and then let the portal seal shut in front of him.
Time to report to Maria Hill, as distasteful as that sounded.
She was on the computer with a stack of documents in front of her that she was frowning at, and looked up with a near snarl at being interrupted. "Thomas, I said I wasn't-" She cut herself off when she looked up and saw Loki. "You should make an appointment. Or contact me via usual channels when you have something to say."
"And deny myself the chance to see you in your usual environs?" Loki sneered. "I think not." He entered and shut the door behind him, sealing it with magic in case she changed her mind and had security called. They couldn't do serious damage, but he wasn't in the mood to be interrupted by low ranking agents. Anger still simmered in his veins. Children. Helpless abandoned children, or children stolen from their parents and lied to.
"What do you want?"
She didn't sound afraid of him at all. That really wouldn't do. But he didn't want her dead and didn't want her sounding some kind of alarm or having SHIELD agents hunting him. That was an annoyance he could live without.
"You did request my help with the late Baron von Strucker."
"Wait. Late?"
Depositing all of the Baron's information on her desk, Loki sat down imperiously in front of her and even put his feet up on her desk. Flashing her an insouciant grin, Loki folded his hands over his stomach. "Hardly a challenge. His power was in commanding and manipulating others, not in his own personal skill set."
Maria bit her tongue and perused the contents of what Loki gave her. Her brows furrowed as she went through the files, and she tapped her finger on the tablet and array of flash drives. "What's this, then?"
"Personnel files, records, that kind of thing. I don't care, but it may be useful to you."
"He could have had more information-"
"He was killing children," Loki told her icily. The temperature in the room actually dropped about ten degrees. "Natasha would have had her leeway, would she not?"
Silent for a moment, Maria contemplated him. "Then I suppose we know where your sensitive point would be," she mused.
Dammit.
"Natasha could never forgive those that brainwashed their agents. Apparently you don't approve of child murder." Well, put that way, Loki could definitely agree. "So you're not such a heartless egomaniac after all."
"I wouldn't go that far, Agent Hill," Loki said smoothly. The temperature around them slowly returned to normal.
"Thank you," she said quietly. She paused a moment. "We never discussed recompense."
Now Loki grinned at her, a death's head grin. "The pleasure was all mine on this one."
"The children referenced here-"
"Will need some sort of training and observation. None of your staff will do."
She blinked at his presumption. "Doctor Strange can be contacted-"
"If he deigns to respond. From what I gathered two years ago, his specialty was interdimensional travel and hunting demons. These children are definitely not demons."
"Are you proposing that you teach them magic?"
Loki nearly winced. He hadn't thought that far ahead, to be perfectly honest, but he knew he couldn't leave them with SHIELD. The agency might have their best interests at heart, but the children would still have their abilities used for SHIELD's benefit and not necessarily their own. It rankled, though the children meant nothing to him, and he would rather they have enough control over their magic to dictate their own terms.
"I am hardly inexperienced," he said instead. "But if the idea of that influence troubles you-"
"Of course it does!"
"-then perhaps Queen Frigga of Asgard would be more amenable a teacher for your delicate sensibilities. She is quite well versed in all manner of magicks, even those thought lost on most realms of existence."
Maria seemed to relax a little. "Yes, actually. I think that's a wonderful idea."
"You have no need to answer to Director Fury on that?"
"I'm Deputy Director," Maria told him with a thin smile. "My decision making capacity is not insignificant. As well you know already."
"Perhaps," Loki allowed. He answered her smile with one of his own. "So did this meet your expectations when you offered me this job?"
"Exceeded them, actually." He managed not to visibly preen, though the grudgingly given praise swelled his pride indeed. Maria was not one to give unwarranted, effusive or excessive praise, just like Natasha was not. If she said someone did a good job, they truly had gone above and beyond her expectations.
"So perhaps this was not as ill-advised as you first thought it would be."
She gave a wry smile. "Not at all from where I'm sitting. I can't believe I'm saying this, but thank you, Loki. You really helped us with this. Maybe we can continue the consulting?"
Loki gave her a genuine smile. "I can see the appeal. It would be acceptable to continue."
"I'll get everything processed through HR. I guess this makes me your handler as well."
Rising to his feet, Loki gave her a formal bow. "I certainly look forward to it."
***
Natasha didn't see Loki for nearly three days after he spanked her on a sawhorse as discipline for thinking too much. It wasn't for her grief, she knew that much about what he was trying to do. It was for being too far into her own pessimistic thoughts, for not reaching out to the others, for being nearly catatonic. It was a fine distinction, but one she was starting to realize in his absence. No one knew where he went, but didn't seem terribly concerned about it. "If he's not stalking off in a snit," Clint had reasoned, "I figure at this point he's not going to blow something up. He wants to stay on your good side, remember? Killing and maiming and brainwashing are not going to keep him there. He's good at following rules when it suits him."
I'll follow the rules while they still suit me, she always used to say. It had been a joke between her and Clint for years after she first transitioned to SHIELD. The first time she had said it, she had truly meant it. She hadn't been sure she could stay on the straight path, hadn't seen much point in using her skills to save people as Clint had suggested.
"I'm a firm believer that people are put on this Earth for a reason," he had said on the other side of her cell. "We all have a purpose, if we could just figure out what it is. I don't think you would have destroyed the people that hurt you just so you could hurt other people."
She had pretended not to listen, had pretended to ignore the chance he was offering. But inside, she had been considering, weighing, testing.
And it had clicked.
Perhaps it was finally starting to click for Loki.
The floaty feeling she had gotten from the spanking had surprised her. She didn't think she could ever let go enough to reach subspace, let alone so quickly. So either the entire situation with Yelena had stripped her down past her defenses and layers, or she had been aching so badly to let go of everything and it had been the perfect timing. Maybe it had been both.
James had worried a little bit when she explained what had happened the following morning. "I wouldn't be able to do that for you," he said quietly. "I don't want any of the old programming to come out."
"We'll need to make sure someone goes in there to strip them out."
"You might trust SHIELD," he told her, "but I don't. I agreed with Yelena on that count."
"But I can't do this for you."
"Then we should find someone who can."
This was something Natasha could do. This was something she could throw herself into, body and soul, and use to deflect any unpleasant memories resurfacing. Clint had liked the doctor that Tony hired on as permanent ancillary staff in the tower, even if they didn't battle anyone on a consistent basis. The doctor apparently was bankrolled by Stark Industries, with the understanding that she might be called on to address Avengers business. An internist wasn't a psychiatrist or therapist, but she might have referrals in mind.
Dr. Georgia Calderon had short straight black hair, olive skin, bright brown eyes ringed with kohl, a no nonsense demeanor. Natasha liked that immediately. She was dressed in business casual wear with a white lab coat embroidered with her name and the SI logo, and had sensible shoes on her feet instead of high heels. It didn't surprise Natasha at all that Dr. Calderon had a medical file on her already, but she appreciated being told that it was derived from her SHIELD record. "Tony Stark 'liberated' it in the off chance that I might be the first responder on the scene to attend your wounds." There was a faint accent to her voice, and Natasha thought perhaps she was Peruvian.
"And knowing him, I'm sure you memorized it."
"Only the pertinent aspects," the doctor replied crisply.
The physical didn't reveal much, just as Natasha knew it wouldn't. Dr. Calderon took her notes, kept her opinion to herself, didn't order any unnecessary tests. She liked that part; sometimes it had seemed like SHIELD techs simply wanted to update the biometric data they had on file and didn't bother to inform her of that.
"So how can I really help you?" Dr. Calderon said, leaning against the counter of the exam room. "You are in peak physical health, the scars noted on SHELD records are gone, and you certainly had no need to come in to see me."
"Friends died," Natasha said abruptly. Might as well just lay it out at once. Tony was paying for her silence, for all intents and purposes. "Others didn't, but I thought they did."
Dr. Calderon gave her a thoughtful look. "And you need someone trustworthy to talk to about all of it. Isn't there anyone at SHIELD you trust in that capacity?"
Natasha managed not to wince. "I'm not sure anymore. The pertinent parts of my file that you read," she began, a little uncertainly.
"I'm aware that memory modification, abuse, and drugs featured heavily in your early development, if that's what you're asking about."
"Sort of. I need to talk to someone familiar with that kind of thing."
"It was repeated, wasn't it?" Dr. Calderon asked, voice a little quieter. "And you don't want them to know about it."
Natasha looked up sharply, her face an unreadable mask. She didn't say anything, actually surprised by her guess.
"You're the last one to visit me, and the others all mentioned getting injured. Mr. Barton apparently saw the SHIELD medical team as well as myself. I suppose as a way to gauge for himself how trustworthy I am. Most of the others were very hesitant about speaking of the actual mission, though Thor mentioned bringing a comrade in arms back to the tower."
James. It had to be, because Thor hadn't been in Atlanta.
Remaining silent a little longer, Natasha contemplated her options. She probably did need to speak with someone about the memories that Yelena had dragged to the surface when she had thought them buried. The SHIELD therapist from years ago hadn't done as thorough a job as they all had thought, so that was out as an option. And she could also use this as an opportunity to vet any candidates to treat James.
"Trust is difficult," Natasha said finally. "So is admitting weakness."
"With what you do for a living?" Dr. Calderon replied, shaking her head. "Needing a therapist isn't weakness. It's probably the sanest thing in this entire outfit."
"Why is that?"
"I think the average person would think that dressing up in spandex and fighting crime is something only for comic books and movies. Yet there you all are, doing it. It's difficult, strenuous and traumatizing work. You're not going to be able to take care of everyone else if you don't take care of yourself first."
The words resonated with her, and Natasha watched as Dr. Calderon took out her Starkphone to scroll through the contacts. "I've heard good things about these therapists, but you'll have to contact them and see who you feel like you click with." She wrote down four names and numbers, all based in Manhattan. "They've worked with Stark Industries before, and I'm sure the confidentiality clauses would all be similar."
Natasha took the slip of paper and looked at it for a long moment. She was hesitant, not just for herself, but for James. Her trust was hard won, his even more so. "I don't know-"
"If they're not helpful, let me know. I don't want to refer people to them if they're full of shit," the doctor said with a slight smile.
Giving her a sliver of a smile in return, Natasha nodded. "I'll do that, then."
***
Loki sat in his office, surrounded by scrolls. It was easy to send a message to Frigga, telling her of the children in need of instruction. That was certainly something that would appeal to her, as she always used to complain that she didn't have enough students interested in the seidr. He wouldn't have to see her necessarily, but if he did...
Well, that was neither here nor there. It didn't matter what he thought of the matter, did it?
He was startled by a knock on his office door. Turning, he saw it was Natasha, dressed in a black tank top and jeans that fit like a second skin. Her feet were bare, and she stepped into his office as soon as he saw her.
"Thank you," she murmured. "For the other day."
Loki didn't know what prompted her to track him down, and he nodded at her. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he rose to his feet and wrapped her up in his arms. "You seem better," he murmured. When her arms encircled him, he shut his eyes and dropped his chin on top of her head, contentment washing over him.
"Settled, maybe," she replied. "I don't know if I can ever say I'm better."
Understanding the feeling, Loki stroked her back gently. "Then I am glad I could assist you in getting settled." Finally succumbing to impulse, Loki dropped a kiss onto the top of her head. "I am pleased that there is trust enough between us for such things."
Natasha laughed a little, tinged in bitterness. "Especially given how things started."
"Yes, precisely."
"And you're much more settled now than before," she observed.
Now that unsettled him, because he still had the Baron's children in mind. Settled? When there was still such unspeakable atrocities being perpetrated on innocent children? He might not be interested in the unnamable and unknowable innocents, but children he could bring himself to care for. Loki didn't bother to question the impulse.
"Are we still going to set up a sparring schedule with Barton? Steve would be useful to train with, if you're not still angry with him."
"And James will benefit," she replied.
Loki blew out a breath. "Because you love him."
"Because he was used as a weapon against his will," Natasha corrected, a tired note in her voice. Loki wondered why he could hear it now. Did she not care? Or had he gotten to know her so well that he could hear it?
"As you were."
"As I was. As sometimes I still am."
He stepped back and took in her sad expression. "No, Natasha. You are more than that."
"Sometimes it doesn't feel that way."
"Which is why it helped the other night."
Natasha licked her lips, appearing nervous, then she nodded. "I can't let go of my control often, you understand that. But... it's good to. To not have to worry about everyone's secrets, to not have to rein everything in so tightly."
Loki grasped her by the waist and lifted her so that he could mash his mouth against hers. "Of all the people here, I understand this. I know that moment of which you speak. You brought me to that kind of peace yourself. The other night, I think I finally understood how to help you achieve it."
"I don't think James can do that for me," she said quietly. He got the feeling that she was unhappy to be admitting that to him. "I think he'd be too afraid of hurting me."
"And you know I would never truly hurt you."
"You proved it."
Ha. Something he could do that her precious Winter Soldier couldn't. Loki wanted to puff up his chest in pride, as inappropriate it might be.
Moving to her tip toes, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I may need that again. Most likely, really. I've learned to cope over the years by suppression and now that's mostly gone. I'm even considering therapy."
"Stark mentioned such a thing."
"It might be good for me," she murmured. "You help me lose control safely, and a good therapist can help teach me other ways to deal with things."
Loki trailed his fingers across the curve of her cheek. "How far would you wish to take it? Tools, as you introduced them to me?"
Natasha smiled, a wry quirk of her lips. "It doesn't always have to be about sex, you know."
"But where's the fun in that?" he sneered.
Now she laughed outright. "I guess we'll have to see."
***
***
To Chapter Two - Connections
Series: #18 in Ready For The Siege
(#1 - Look Over Your Shoulder, #2 - Armed Up To The Teeth, #3 - Misery Inspires, #4 - Broken Underneath, #5 - Change Is Coming Soon, #6 - Lick Your Wounds, #7 - Bitter Sparks, #8 - Father's Will, #9 - To Feel Safe Again, #10 - Hit Your Prime, #11 - Open Your Eyes, #12 - Can't Be Ignored, #13 - Make You Ill, #14 - Aim Straight, #15 - Not The First Time, #16 - Friendly Fire, #17 - Relieved)
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Loki/Natasha, Natasha/Bucky, Steve/Sif
Disclaimer: Not mine! Some comic backstory is incorporated into characterizations, but this is still primarily movieverse.
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-Avengers, AU to the rest of MCU. Alludes to events in prior stories and outright references others. References for Red Room mindfuckery, PTSD, violence.
Title and series title from "The Royal We" by Silversun Pickups.
Summary: Everyone was see-sawing into some kind of equilibrium. Sometimes, it didn't even get traumatic.
One - Pride
Pride was an odd thing.
Loki knew all about pride, of course. He knew he could choke on it if he let himself, he could swallow it down and let it burn beneath his skin. He also knew that sometimes, it was pleasant, that he could do right, he could be appreciated, and that all of his pain could actually hold some kind of meaning.
Much like he couldn't appreciate it years ago, Natasha would never like it if he told her that she was broken. And she wasn't broken, exactly. She was grieving. She was in pain. She was too caught up in herself and her history and her misery. She was too busy grinding herself down with the thousand what ifs that would surely drive her mad.
James obviously loved her back, and wasn't the soulless machine that Steve feared he would be and Loki had wanted to see. If he was a machine, he shouldn't matter. But there was a soul in there somewhere, buried beneath the programming, hints of a person that perhaps Natasha truly could love. Even Loki could see it, as much as he didn't want to. But this definitely complicated things, meant that the alternate reality where he was married to Natasha could never become a reality here. They weren't SHIELD agents, they weren't in love, they didn't have a child and a family and everyone's regard. His title of trickster was derogatory here, not a treasured name that was appreciated.
Rage licked the recesses of his mind, and if it was succumb to rage or self pity, there truly was no contest as far as Loki was concerned.
So rage it was. He wasn't angry at Natasha. Not even James. No, it was the circumstances that had led them all here, the embattled, bitter and twisted journey that left them all tangled and frustrated, aching and empty at the end of the day.
Loki stomped around his suite like a tantruming child, and pursed his lips as he stalked into his office looking for something to do.
Maria Hill's attaché case taunted him from its place on his desk.
Well, then. If he couldn't be helpful to Natasha while angry, doing a little work on her behalf should burn it right out of him.
***
The door slid open noiselessly, which turned out to be a much better idea than smashing it open with a blast of green flame.
Children. Rows of beds, as Natasha had described the Red Room facilities, as he had seen in photographs of old fashioned orphanages from Steve's childhood. Most were empty, but a few were rumpled as if hastily made. There was still the faint trace of their powers, some of them with the familiar taste of magic in the air.
Children. Loki thought he was going to choke on his anger, and he moved from the dormitory into the recreation area. Two were in the corner, playing with blocks, stacking them without touching them. They looked so solemn, as if this wasn't merely play but practice for a test, as if failing this would lead to punishment.
And he remembered that little girls didn't always survive punishment in the Red Room. And that this place was modeled on the Red Room.
They were experimenting on helpless children, twisting them and changing everything about who they were supposed to be.
Rage simmered white hot in his veins, and he found himself instantly teleporting to Baron von Strucker's side. An older pair of children were with him, folders scattered across the desk. It was impossible to tell if he was looking at the children's files or was about to instruct them on their next target to murder. Loki couldn't stand it, and nearly missed the thread of magic present in the girl standing at full attention. But no, he caught the whiff of magic, saw the red glow begin to form in her palms as she raised her hands.
So he stopped time, then grasped the Baron's arm to pull him into the small bubble outside of active time. The Baron was confused, and fell to his feet when Loki struck him across the face, not even using his full force.
"You have experimented on children," Loki snarled.
"They are resilient," Baron von Strucker replied stiffly, getting to his feet. Loki was glad that he wasn't even going to bother hiding what he was doing. It would save him a lot of tedious questioning and torture
"Resilient," Loki echoed dubiously.
"The stone carries such power, and adults were turned inside out," the Baron told him, a pleading edge to his voice. "Too many good men died."
"So you took children." Loki pushed a thread of magic into the man's mind, sparking his terror and ratcheting it up a thousandfold. "Give me everything about your project."
The Baron quailed before Loki, but he took no pleasure out of this. Children. Human children, malleable and vulnerable, forced to take in cosmic power, their spá irrevocably changed. He didn't stop to think of why it was so untenable, why his rage flowed fast and free as it hadn't in quite some time.
Power flowed through him, and it lifted the Baron off his feet, nearly choking him. "St-stop!"
"How many?" Loki raged. "How many?!"
"What? How many died? How many lived?" the Baron stammered, quaking.
Hearing that made Loki almost inarticulate with rage. He snarled, power coming off of him in waves, making the Baron choke on his fear.
"We have thirty one children now. Those two are the oldest, the only two that survived the first wave of experiments fourteen years ago."
"Fourteen years of this."
"We had no choice. With the Red Room gone, we needed operatives. Our agents couldn't be everywhere, couldn't break cover-"
"I want that list of agents, too," Loki purred, thinking of SHIELD. They would want that list.
"I can't-"
"Now, Baron," Loki murmured with quiet menace, making him shiver in fear. He smiled, knowing the effect that it had on others. Sharp teeth, glittering eyes, menace oozing out of every pore. "Can't is an ugly word I don't like to hear."
"You're going to kill me."
"Of course. It's simply a question of whether or not you suffer greatly before I do."
"They were nobodies. Nothing. Throwaway children. Nobody wanted them, and we turned them into miracles!"
Throwaway children. Unwanted. Nobody wanted them.
Loki roared in anger, making the Baron flinch. He suddenly understood why Natasha would devote her professional life for taking down organizations like this. She had been violated cruelly since childhood by them, and she wanted to put a stop to it. Loki could feel his irrational anger spike again, didn't bother to try to figure out the why of it the way Natasha would likely have wanted him to. It didn't matter why he was so angry, but the rage fueled his magic, made it sharper, stronger, crueler.
The Baron bowed and scraped to give him the files and information he wanted, loading everything onto a tablet, the plans and lists and schematics. The stone he had referenced wasn't in his possession, but Loki could easily find it. Humans shouldn't have such a powerful item in their hands, not if this was what they did with it.
No more reshaping children. No more altering them beyond reason. No more killing thousands of the Roma and homeless and mentally challenged and others deemed unfit in Hydra's eyes, the children they thought worth killing if they didn't survive the transformation.
No more.
Once the Baron gave him whatever he wanted, Loki turned his body inside out. The girl with the magic powers was about to let out a burst of brilliant red energy, which was child's play for him to contain. She and the boy beside her were the oldest ones, from the first wave of experiments, and the Baron had mentioned their names. Wanda and Pietro Maximoff, a pair of Romani twins that they had abducted from their mother as children. They had been ten, told that no one else wanted them because of the power they contained, and fourteen years later believed everything the Baron told them.
Well, it was a good thing there was a locked apartment in the lab floors.
It didn't take Loki very long to repair the damage done by Natasha to the locking mechanism and remove the glass walled cell in the living space. A simple set of spells did that as he collected the thirty one children. Though in the case of the Maximoff twins, children was a bit of a misnomer. Hydra treated them all like idiot children, however, and the twins raged at him. Pietro tried to run faster than Loki's spells, and Wanda tried to repulse his magic with her own. She had baby's magic in comparison to his skill, and she bared her teeth as she screamed at him in fury. "I will kill you for this insult!"
Loki merely rolled his eyes and corralled the children through a portal into the empty apartment space. "None of you truly know how to use the potential you were given," he sneered at her. "The Baron isn't the kind benefactor he wanted you to believe." He smiled thinly at all of the children, then dropped a copy of the progress reports that the Baron had been about to peruse before Loki's arrival. Each of the children was called a subject and a number, discussed in entirely clinical terms and whether or not Hydra could use their skills in some manner. Wanda herself was described in less than flattering terms, and her skills were dismissed as insignificant to their schemes because she couldn't take them any further. The other children were younger, with even less defined skills than hers. A few didn't even seem to have discernible power at all, and the recommendation on those progress reports was to expose them again for a longer period of time, even at the risk of death, to try to trigger some kind of change.
"What is this?" Pietro asked.
The former portal was gone, and Loki opened a new one behind him. It led to a bland, featureless hallway not too far from Maria Hill's office.
"That is what the Baron really thought of all of you," Loki said, voice dripping with charm and sarcasm in equal measure. "What you do with that knowledge is up to you."
And with that pronouncement, he stepped backward, away from the children, and then let the portal seal shut in front of him.
Time to report to Maria Hill, as distasteful as that sounded.
She was on the computer with a stack of documents in front of her that she was frowning at, and looked up with a near snarl at being interrupted. "Thomas, I said I wasn't-" She cut herself off when she looked up and saw Loki. "You should make an appointment. Or contact me via usual channels when you have something to say."
"And deny myself the chance to see you in your usual environs?" Loki sneered. "I think not." He entered and shut the door behind him, sealing it with magic in case she changed her mind and had security called. They couldn't do serious damage, but he wasn't in the mood to be interrupted by low ranking agents. Anger still simmered in his veins. Children. Helpless abandoned children, or children stolen from their parents and lied to.
"What do you want?"
She didn't sound afraid of him at all. That really wouldn't do. But he didn't want her dead and didn't want her sounding some kind of alarm or having SHIELD agents hunting him. That was an annoyance he could live without.
"You did request my help with the late Baron von Strucker."
"Wait. Late?"
Depositing all of the Baron's information on her desk, Loki sat down imperiously in front of her and even put his feet up on her desk. Flashing her an insouciant grin, Loki folded his hands over his stomach. "Hardly a challenge. His power was in commanding and manipulating others, not in his own personal skill set."
Maria bit her tongue and perused the contents of what Loki gave her. Her brows furrowed as she went through the files, and she tapped her finger on the tablet and array of flash drives. "What's this, then?"
"Personnel files, records, that kind of thing. I don't care, but it may be useful to you."
"He could have had more information-"
"He was killing children," Loki told her icily. The temperature in the room actually dropped about ten degrees. "Natasha would have had her leeway, would she not?"
Silent for a moment, Maria contemplated him. "Then I suppose we know where your sensitive point would be," she mused.
Dammit.
"Natasha could never forgive those that brainwashed their agents. Apparently you don't approve of child murder." Well, put that way, Loki could definitely agree. "So you're not such a heartless egomaniac after all."
"I wouldn't go that far, Agent Hill," Loki said smoothly. The temperature around them slowly returned to normal.
"Thank you," she said quietly. She paused a moment. "We never discussed recompense."
Now Loki grinned at her, a death's head grin. "The pleasure was all mine on this one."
"The children referenced here-"
"Will need some sort of training and observation. None of your staff will do."
She blinked at his presumption. "Doctor Strange can be contacted-"
"If he deigns to respond. From what I gathered two years ago, his specialty was interdimensional travel and hunting demons. These children are definitely not demons."
"Are you proposing that you teach them magic?"
Loki nearly winced. He hadn't thought that far ahead, to be perfectly honest, but he knew he couldn't leave them with SHIELD. The agency might have their best interests at heart, but the children would still have their abilities used for SHIELD's benefit and not necessarily their own. It rankled, though the children meant nothing to him, and he would rather they have enough control over their magic to dictate their own terms.
"I am hardly inexperienced," he said instead. "But if the idea of that influence troubles you-"
"Of course it does!"
"-then perhaps Queen Frigga of Asgard would be more amenable a teacher for your delicate sensibilities. She is quite well versed in all manner of magicks, even those thought lost on most realms of existence."
Maria seemed to relax a little. "Yes, actually. I think that's a wonderful idea."
"You have no need to answer to Director Fury on that?"
"I'm Deputy Director," Maria told him with a thin smile. "My decision making capacity is not insignificant. As well you know already."
"Perhaps," Loki allowed. He answered her smile with one of his own. "So did this meet your expectations when you offered me this job?"
"Exceeded them, actually." He managed not to visibly preen, though the grudgingly given praise swelled his pride indeed. Maria was not one to give unwarranted, effusive or excessive praise, just like Natasha was not. If she said someone did a good job, they truly had gone above and beyond her expectations.
"So perhaps this was not as ill-advised as you first thought it would be."
She gave a wry smile. "Not at all from where I'm sitting. I can't believe I'm saying this, but thank you, Loki. You really helped us with this. Maybe we can continue the consulting?"
Loki gave her a genuine smile. "I can see the appeal. It would be acceptable to continue."
"I'll get everything processed through HR. I guess this makes me your handler as well."
Rising to his feet, Loki gave her a formal bow. "I certainly look forward to it."
***
Natasha didn't see Loki for nearly three days after he spanked her on a sawhorse as discipline for thinking too much. It wasn't for her grief, she knew that much about what he was trying to do. It was for being too far into her own pessimistic thoughts, for not reaching out to the others, for being nearly catatonic. It was a fine distinction, but one she was starting to realize in his absence. No one knew where he went, but didn't seem terribly concerned about it. "If he's not stalking off in a snit," Clint had reasoned, "I figure at this point he's not going to blow something up. He wants to stay on your good side, remember? Killing and maiming and brainwashing are not going to keep him there. He's good at following rules when it suits him."
I'll follow the rules while they still suit me, she always used to say. It had been a joke between her and Clint for years after she first transitioned to SHIELD. The first time she had said it, she had truly meant it. She hadn't been sure she could stay on the straight path, hadn't seen much point in using her skills to save people as Clint had suggested.
"I'm a firm believer that people are put on this Earth for a reason," he had said on the other side of her cell. "We all have a purpose, if we could just figure out what it is. I don't think you would have destroyed the people that hurt you just so you could hurt other people."
She had pretended not to listen, had pretended to ignore the chance he was offering. But inside, she had been considering, weighing, testing.
And it had clicked.
Perhaps it was finally starting to click for Loki.
The floaty feeling she had gotten from the spanking had surprised her. She didn't think she could ever let go enough to reach subspace, let alone so quickly. So either the entire situation with Yelena had stripped her down past her defenses and layers, or she had been aching so badly to let go of everything and it had been the perfect timing. Maybe it had been both.
James had worried a little bit when she explained what had happened the following morning. "I wouldn't be able to do that for you," he said quietly. "I don't want any of the old programming to come out."
"We'll need to make sure someone goes in there to strip them out."
"You might trust SHIELD," he told her, "but I don't. I agreed with Yelena on that count."
"But I can't do this for you."
"Then we should find someone who can."
This was something Natasha could do. This was something she could throw herself into, body and soul, and use to deflect any unpleasant memories resurfacing. Clint had liked the doctor that Tony hired on as permanent ancillary staff in the tower, even if they didn't battle anyone on a consistent basis. The doctor apparently was bankrolled by Stark Industries, with the understanding that she might be called on to address Avengers business. An internist wasn't a psychiatrist or therapist, but she might have referrals in mind.
Dr. Georgia Calderon had short straight black hair, olive skin, bright brown eyes ringed with kohl, a no nonsense demeanor. Natasha liked that immediately. She was dressed in business casual wear with a white lab coat embroidered with her name and the SI logo, and had sensible shoes on her feet instead of high heels. It didn't surprise Natasha at all that Dr. Calderon had a medical file on her already, but she appreciated being told that it was derived from her SHIELD record. "Tony Stark 'liberated' it in the off chance that I might be the first responder on the scene to attend your wounds." There was a faint accent to her voice, and Natasha thought perhaps she was Peruvian.
"And knowing him, I'm sure you memorized it."
"Only the pertinent aspects," the doctor replied crisply.
The physical didn't reveal much, just as Natasha knew it wouldn't. Dr. Calderon took her notes, kept her opinion to herself, didn't order any unnecessary tests. She liked that part; sometimes it had seemed like SHIELD techs simply wanted to update the biometric data they had on file and didn't bother to inform her of that.
"So how can I really help you?" Dr. Calderon said, leaning against the counter of the exam room. "You are in peak physical health, the scars noted on SHELD records are gone, and you certainly had no need to come in to see me."
"Friends died," Natasha said abruptly. Might as well just lay it out at once. Tony was paying for her silence, for all intents and purposes. "Others didn't, but I thought they did."
Dr. Calderon gave her a thoughtful look. "And you need someone trustworthy to talk to about all of it. Isn't there anyone at SHIELD you trust in that capacity?"
Natasha managed not to wince. "I'm not sure anymore. The pertinent parts of my file that you read," she began, a little uncertainly.
"I'm aware that memory modification, abuse, and drugs featured heavily in your early development, if that's what you're asking about."
"Sort of. I need to talk to someone familiar with that kind of thing."
"It was repeated, wasn't it?" Dr. Calderon asked, voice a little quieter. "And you don't want them to know about it."
Natasha looked up sharply, her face an unreadable mask. She didn't say anything, actually surprised by her guess.
"You're the last one to visit me, and the others all mentioned getting injured. Mr. Barton apparently saw the SHIELD medical team as well as myself. I suppose as a way to gauge for himself how trustworthy I am. Most of the others were very hesitant about speaking of the actual mission, though Thor mentioned bringing a comrade in arms back to the tower."
James. It had to be, because Thor hadn't been in Atlanta.
Remaining silent a little longer, Natasha contemplated her options. She probably did need to speak with someone about the memories that Yelena had dragged to the surface when she had thought them buried. The SHIELD therapist from years ago hadn't done as thorough a job as they all had thought, so that was out as an option. And she could also use this as an opportunity to vet any candidates to treat James.
"Trust is difficult," Natasha said finally. "So is admitting weakness."
"With what you do for a living?" Dr. Calderon replied, shaking her head. "Needing a therapist isn't weakness. It's probably the sanest thing in this entire outfit."
"Why is that?"
"I think the average person would think that dressing up in spandex and fighting crime is something only for comic books and movies. Yet there you all are, doing it. It's difficult, strenuous and traumatizing work. You're not going to be able to take care of everyone else if you don't take care of yourself first."
The words resonated with her, and Natasha watched as Dr. Calderon took out her Starkphone to scroll through the contacts. "I've heard good things about these therapists, but you'll have to contact them and see who you feel like you click with." She wrote down four names and numbers, all based in Manhattan. "They've worked with Stark Industries before, and I'm sure the confidentiality clauses would all be similar."
Natasha took the slip of paper and looked at it for a long moment. She was hesitant, not just for herself, but for James. Her trust was hard won, his even more so. "I don't know-"
"If they're not helpful, let me know. I don't want to refer people to them if they're full of shit," the doctor said with a slight smile.
Giving her a sliver of a smile in return, Natasha nodded. "I'll do that, then."
***
Loki sat in his office, surrounded by scrolls. It was easy to send a message to Frigga, telling her of the children in need of instruction. That was certainly something that would appeal to her, as she always used to complain that she didn't have enough students interested in the seidr. He wouldn't have to see her necessarily, but if he did...
Well, that was neither here nor there. It didn't matter what he thought of the matter, did it?
He was startled by a knock on his office door. Turning, he saw it was Natasha, dressed in a black tank top and jeans that fit like a second skin. Her feet were bare, and she stepped into his office as soon as he saw her.
"Thank you," she murmured. "For the other day."
Loki didn't know what prompted her to track him down, and he nodded at her. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he rose to his feet and wrapped her up in his arms. "You seem better," he murmured. When her arms encircled him, he shut his eyes and dropped his chin on top of her head, contentment washing over him.
"Settled, maybe," she replied. "I don't know if I can ever say I'm better."
Understanding the feeling, Loki stroked her back gently. "Then I am glad I could assist you in getting settled." Finally succumbing to impulse, Loki dropped a kiss onto the top of her head. "I am pleased that there is trust enough between us for such things."
Natasha laughed a little, tinged in bitterness. "Especially given how things started."
"Yes, precisely."
"And you're much more settled now than before," she observed.
Now that unsettled him, because he still had the Baron's children in mind. Settled? When there was still such unspeakable atrocities being perpetrated on innocent children? He might not be interested in the unnamable and unknowable innocents, but children he could bring himself to care for. Loki didn't bother to question the impulse.
"Are we still going to set up a sparring schedule with Barton? Steve would be useful to train with, if you're not still angry with him."
"And James will benefit," she replied.
Loki blew out a breath. "Because you love him."
"Because he was used as a weapon against his will," Natasha corrected, a tired note in her voice. Loki wondered why he could hear it now. Did she not care? Or had he gotten to know her so well that he could hear it?
"As you were."
"As I was. As sometimes I still am."
He stepped back and took in her sad expression. "No, Natasha. You are more than that."
"Sometimes it doesn't feel that way."
"Which is why it helped the other night."
Natasha licked her lips, appearing nervous, then she nodded. "I can't let go of my control often, you understand that. But... it's good to. To not have to worry about everyone's secrets, to not have to rein everything in so tightly."
Loki grasped her by the waist and lifted her so that he could mash his mouth against hers. "Of all the people here, I understand this. I know that moment of which you speak. You brought me to that kind of peace yourself. The other night, I think I finally understood how to help you achieve it."
"I don't think James can do that for me," she said quietly. He got the feeling that she was unhappy to be admitting that to him. "I think he'd be too afraid of hurting me."
"And you know I would never truly hurt you."
"You proved it."
Ha. Something he could do that her precious Winter Soldier couldn't. Loki wanted to puff up his chest in pride, as inappropriate it might be.
Moving to her tip toes, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I may need that again. Most likely, really. I've learned to cope over the years by suppression and now that's mostly gone. I'm even considering therapy."
"Stark mentioned such a thing."
"It might be good for me," she murmured. "You help me lose control safely, and a good therapist can help teach me other ways to deal with things."
Loki trailed his fingers across the curve of her cheek. "How far would you wish to take it? Tools, as you introduced them to me?"
Natasha smiled, a wry quirk of her lips. "It doesn't always have to be about sex, you know."
"But where's the fun in that?" he sneered.
Now she laughed outright. "I guess we'll have to see."
***
***
To Chapter Two - Connections