Of Alien Invasions and Possible Defenestrations
“Mom?”
Elena neatly spun the car down into the bunker, just as a muddled Ava began to stir in her seat.
“This isn't the farm. Where are we?”
Elena smiled at her daughter.
“We’re safe. Come on my darling, the others are inside.”
“Others? Aunt Tasha?” Ava stirred further, rubbing her eyes. She felt… off. Like there was something at the back of her mind she couldn’t quite place.
“Not Natasha. Our friends. Come on sweetie, we need to be fast.”
Ava pulled back instinctively as Elena reached for her, the back of her neck prickling.
“I don’t want to.”
For a split second, she could’ve sworn her mother’s face changed, features smoothing out to a blank slate, before rippling back in.
“It’s okay baby, I know you’re scared, but you don’t have to be. You don’t ever have to be scared again.”
The feeling came back, stronger this time. Something was wrong. Instinctively, she reached up to grab onto her necklace, fingers clinging against the stone, reassuring in its familiar shape despite the coldness inside, so different from how it used to be.
Internally, alarm bells rung, her seidr screaming at her to move.
Mind still frozen with fear, her body moved on instinct, opening the car door from the other side and darting out. She didn’t know where she was going, only that she had to leave. Before it was too late.
Ignoring the startled cry of her mother - no, not her mother, the person in her mother’s body - she immediately sprinted down the street, air whistling past her ear as she narrowly avoided being snatched backwards. The street was unfamiliar, but she followed the sound of people. Only moments later, she burst onto a street, rife with people and noise. Disappearing into the crowd, she weaved effortlessly between bodies, with the aid of a little magic. After her awakening, she’d found that her magic was as tired as her body, and needed to be built up much in the same way. Which meant that in addition to the training exercises she was doing to rebuild her body, she was exercising her mind as well. While her current levels were nowhere near as high as they had been pre-coma, especially with the loss of her necklace, she still had enough to hide herself from any watching eyes.
Her Notice-Me-Not charm was one of her favourites, especially for games of hide and seek, and worked rather like the perception filter in Doctor Who, not turning her invisible, but camouflaging her in with the scenery.
Briefly hopping onto a ledge, she scanned the crowd behind her, picking out the agents spread through the pavement, forming a net of people. Not waiting to see if they spotted her, she jumped back down, crossing the road in the midst of a group of tourists. Hanging onto the edges of the group, she let the sea of people wash her down the sidewalk. A peek at the watch of a well-dressed gentleman told her the time was a little past 9am - 9am! They couldn’t have left the house much later than 6, with the dawn barely breaking.
She didn’t stop walking on until she could no longer feel the prickle of eyes on the back of her neck.
Finally, when they did, she sat down on a nearby wall, swinging her legs innocently. Her mind reeled. What the Hel was going on? Whatever had happened to her mother, one thing was clear - SHIELD was compromised. So heading to the headquarters wasn’t the best idea. But if she couldn’t go there, where could she go? Presumably Auntie Nat was still active, as Elena hadn't included her in the ‘friends’ inside the building. Which meant that she had to find her… or did she? Logically, if Elena was off grid, then the remaining agents must’ve realised something was wrong, and were probably already taking measures to find her. She just had to find somewhere to lie low for a while, until it was safe to reveal her locat - ahhh!
Pain rippled through her, muscles spasming.
Her head felt like it might explode.
But not with her own pain. With someone else's. The sensation passed as fast as it came, leaving her shaking where she sat.
No. No. Nononononono!
She recognised the feeling all too well. The torture that had plagued her for a year straight. But… it couldn’t be! Loki was… Loki was gone. She had felt him go. Didn’t she?
Hardly daring to hope, gingerly the girl reached her hand up to her and clasped onto the stone hanging there. It was warm. Barely, but warm nonetheless, as if a split second heatwave had crashed through it, momentarily bringing it to life, before leaving it to slowly cool again. Tears sprung to her eyes at the remnants of the seidr slowly draining out. A pattern of green and gold as familiar as her own, and one that she hadn't seen for far too long. Loki.
He was alive. But, if her head had been any indicator, not for long.
But how could she find him? He could be anywhere in the world, anywhere in the universe, and…
She sighed, as the crowds began to scream, people being mowed down as they moved to escape.
Aliens? Really? Welp… at least she knew where Loki was. And he called her a drama queen.
—--------------------
“So,” drawled Tony from his headset, “Who are we blaming for this one? Personally I think Stevie’s a little fishy. Though that might just be the seawater.”
“Focus Stark,” shot back Natasha, “We’ve got a job to do. Clint, you got eyes on Loki?”
“Yup, top floor of Stark tower.”
“Status?”
“He seems… confused. His body language keeps changing, going from our guy to the other one.”
“Think he’s breaking out of whatever it is?”
“Maybe, but I don’t want to risk it. I still say we whack him on the head until his eyes go green again. Safer all - STARK! NO!”
Tony rolled his eyes, but pulled back from where he was trying to sneak off. Damn archers and their stupidly good eyesight.
“Tony,” scolded Natasha, “Didn’t I literally just tell you to not engage?”
“Yeah but that was over three minutes ago now and I’m bored. Why can’t i go flyt with him for a bit?”
“...Because he’s currently a mentally-unstable sociopathic murderer?”
“And? Ever been to a board meeting? At least let me go offer him a drink.”
“Stark. No.”
“Stark Yes.”
Steve sighed, unmuting himself. “Tony, Natasha’s right, no.”
“...Stark yes.”
“Anthony Edward Stark. You are absolutely NOT going to engage with a highly dangerous criminal for the sake of your own amusement. It won't be nearly as funny when he defenestrates you and I have to replace a window.”
“WHAT THE FUCK RUSHMAN! I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS! YOU CAN’T CALL PEPPER ON ME!”
“Tony, firstly, calm down,” stated Pepper, “Secondly, Nat didn’t call me, I’ve been listening the whole time. I’m with Phil right now, he’s stable, but I’m trying to pull some strings to get some extra help. Helen Cho’s already agreed to fly in, she’s on a flight now.”
“Show off,” grumbled Tony, “And I am far too intelligent to ever get thrown out of a window.”
“Uh huh,” hummed Pepper noncommittally.
Tony sighed dramatically, internally dying of boredom.
“So, are we planning on just watching him prance around my tower or… oh.”
“Stark? What - oh.”
Yeah. Oh.
“Come join the avengers, they said. It’ll be fun, they said. Free alien invasion every day, they said.”
—---------------
Voices.
Round his head.
Round and round and round.
Round like the cage he stood in.
Was it him?
Who was he?
He couldn’t think straight.
There was a woman.
Red.
His mouth moved, but the words were not his.
Power thrummed beneath his skin, writhing for release.
Green pushing back against an endless dark.
Pushing through his defences, moving his limbs.
Invading his very cells.
Violation of the deepest kind.
There was only one place left untouched.
A sanctuary, deep in his mind.
Where he hid, cocooned in darkness of his own making.
Darkness that cloaked the most precious thing he had.
His family.
His memory of them, their weakness, their strengths.
Their love. His love.
A tiny pocket left pure.
Deemed unimportant, left alone.
Where he protected the secrets that could ruin a planet.
Chemical warfare. Biological weapons. Nuclear codes.
All stored in a bubble of pure power.
And Ava.
He remained within his self-made cell.
Watching.
Sometimes he pushed out, travelled silently through his own brain, trying to break through.
Sometimes it worked, just for a moment.
Sometimes the voices pushed him back, down into the dark.
A different voice.
Velvet-wrapped obsidian.
Words used as weapons.
But not towards him.
Towards it. The Other.
Flecks of memory pushed him out of the darkness.
He grasped the threads for an endless moment, trying to break through.
Seidr pulsed a message, sliding through the labyrinth of neurons and synapses.
Then he sunk again.
Had the message sent?
Did they know?
Know that it wasn’t him?
Know that he was still alive?
Blood coated his - its - hands.
Blue eyes stared up. Blinked. Smiled.
There was forgiveness within them. And love.
They knew.
They had to know.
He just had to hold on.
Before there was no him to hold on with.