Catch Your Death
You were plagued by vague dreams as you slept, all of them blurring together to the point you couldn’t distinguish memories relived from new storylines explored. Waking up was a gruelling process, the bright lights above you and the stark white ceiling blaring against your tired eyes as you grew gradually accustomed to your surroundings and tried to remember what had happened before you’d fell unconscious.
Nick Fury, ever so thoughtful, had cuffed your wrists and ankles to the hospital bed you lay on. He should’ve known better, though, as it only took a second’s concentration before the outline of your skin surrounding the cuffs turned smoky and you pulled your now ghost-like limbs upwards, passing through the metal with ease before returning to solid flesh and bone. It was a move you’d perfected over the years, and one of the many you’d kept secret from Fury when you met him the first time.
The room you were in was completely white, like a hospital room. Three of the walls were plain, but the fourth was a glass sliding door, allowing you a glimpse out into the rest of whatever building you were in. All you could see was a series of unoccupied rooms, most of them looking more like medical labs than rooms used to keep patients in.
You glanced down at the IV in your hand. You weren’t sure what it was putting in your bloodstream, but you were overcome with the sudden urge to get it out. Something about this place didn’t seem right, and you didn’t want to stay there for another second. There wasn’t much you could do about the crinkly hospital gown, but the catheter could go.
Carefully, you peeled the tape up, closing the roller clamp on the IV and carefully removing the catheter. It hurt a bit, blood trickling out slightly, but you waved your other hand over it and the skin returned to normal. It was at that moment, when you dropped the used supplies on the ground, that the door slid open, admitting the very man you wished to avoid.
“You’re awake,” Fury stated plainly, a far more timid-looking man following him into the room.
“No thanks to you,” you grumbled, crossing your arms and leaning back on your bed defiantly. “You kidnapped me.”
“It’s my job to keep an eye on people like you and make sure that you don’t get into trouble.”
“And I was staying out of trouble! At least until you showed up.”
“Illegal fighting matches? Does that sound like staying out of trouble?”
“I wasn’t fighting, I was just training people. It was as far away from trouble as it gets for me. What does it matter to you?”
“Dr. Banner, check her out.” Nick Fury spoke to the other man, tilting his head towards you. Dr. Banner cautiously approached you, eyes scanning you for any sort of threat.
“Isn’t she supposed to be restrained?” He asked, voice wavering slightly. You couldn’t tell if it was from fear of you or just his natural fluctuation.
“I suspect she has a resourceful way of getting out of it,” Fury huffed, glaring at you like this was somehow your fault. “Which is why we need to convince her to stay, because we won’t be able to hold her.”
“Finally growing a brain, are we?” You scowled at him as Dr. Banner conducted his visual check-up from a solid metre away. “Maybe next time you’ll realize it’s not good to put me and the Hulk in the same room as one another.” You flipped off the side of the bed, reaching out for Dr. Banner with an outstretched hand, ready to unleash the beast you knew was lurking just beneath the surface but, just as you made contact, something jabbed you in the arm. Clearly, you thought as the clear liquid ran in and your eyelids grew heavy, you hadn’t taken the doctor by surprise.
This time when you woke up, you were in a lavish bed, almost sinking beneath the mounds of pillows and blankets. Once again, Nick Fury was waiting for you, looking at you in displeasure as you sat up.
“You’re a difficult person to work with, y/n.”
“So sorry,” you deadpanned. “Unfortunately, it seems anytime the conversation doesn’t go your way, I get knocked out.”
“Welcome to Avengers tower,” Fury said, ignoring your last comment, watching you carefully as you walked over to the glass wall nearest to your bed, one that overlooked New York City.
“You realize that as soon as you’re gone, I’m leaving, right?”
“You’ve already been here three weeks. Granted, you were unconscious and under observation for all of them, but it gave us some time to figure out how to keep you here.”
“And what did you come up with?”
“Dr. Banner developed some nanites. Nanites that, once injected into your bloodstream, last for three months. And while they are in there, if you so much as attempt to leave this building, you will experience debilitating pain. Since we’ve already figured out that you’re sensitive to electric shock.”
“What the hell?” You spun around to face him. “First you kidnap me, now you’re holding me captive in a place that I don’t want to be in and surely doesn’t want me to be here. What is it that you’re hoping to accomplish?”
“The other Avengers think you would be a valuable asset to the team.”
“Can’t really be a valuable asset to the team if I’m stuck inside the building, now can I?”
“That’s only for three months. We can dissolve the nanites earlier than that if we need to, but for now you’ll be part of our assimilation program.”
“Your what?”
Nick Fury sighed, adjusting his stance. “Our assimilation program is designed to take those with…hostilities towards the Avengers and make them a part of the team-”
“I don’t have anything against the Avengers, just you,” you interrupted.
“-because their powers are too dangerous to be left unchecked in the wild.”
“It’s been five years. Why get me now?” You didn’t dispute the threat your powers posed. Fury had made it very clear in the past that you were nothing more than a walking stick of dynamite to him, heading straight for an open flame.
“Because now you’re not the only member of the program.” Fury tilted his head towards you, eye glinting in promise that he had some diabolical plan up his sleeve.
“Who else stayed off your radar long enough to escape being hauled in here with me?” You marched past him, over to a gold bowl of fruit sitting on top of a dresser, grabbing a pear and biting into it.
“Have you been acquainted with Loki Laufeyson yet?” Fury said, his tone mocking. “I think you’ll get along great.”
You choked on the pear, coughing before you could speak again. “Sorry, you want to pair me with a war criminal to become members of your little pet project? Please explain to me how you see this ending well.”
“Loki is a god. In order to make him a part of the Avengers, he needs to be paired up with someone who he can see as equal in terms of power. And like it or not, you’re as close to that equal as it gets. I won’t lie and say I hope I find out more about your power while you’re here, but in all honesty, this is about Loki.”
“So you decided to bring in the ghost girl?”
“Don’t insult my intelligence. We both know you can do more than that. I may not know the specifics, but I know that there is so much more to you than what you let on.”
You stared him down for a moment, daring him to retract any of his statements, searching for any sign of a lie. As far as you could tell, Nick Fury was telling the truth. And you were pretty good at figuring out when someone was lying.
“I’m glad you agree,” Fury continued after the long pause, taking your silence as assent. “You and Loki will train together, I trust you’re well acquainted with that sort of thing. We want the end result to be the both of you willingly joining the team, so keep that in mind. Be nice to him, get him to warm up to you. Do a good job, and I’ll have Dr. Banner dissolve the nanites. Do we have a deal, y/n?”
“This is Tony Stark’s tower, isn’t it?”
“Yes?”
“Give me access to his suit designing materials. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do this right.” You headed over to the door of your room, throwing Fury a sly grin over your shoulder, a plan of action already forming in your head. You were still infuriated with him, but since he was here and being annoying, you might as well make use of him. He wouldn’t stick around for long.
“What does ‘doing it right’ entail, exactly?”
“Well, it wouldn’t be right for Anubis to return without a proper suit, would it?”
“Last time I met you, Anubis’s suit was a hoodie and ski mask,” Fury grumbled, but you knew he’d give in. He always did.
This was going to be interesting.
Tony Stark was slightly more apprehensive than Fury about letting you use his precious machines.
“Who are you?” He asked, affronted, when you burst into his lab, Fury in tow, taking in your hospital gown and lingering scent of antiseptic. When you didn’t answer, he turned to Fury. “Who is she?”
“Newest member,” Fury replied curtly. “She needs to design her suit.”
“You can’t just barge in here, this is sensitive equipment. Do you even know what you’re doing?”
You nodded in a non-committal way as you headed over to the nearest 3D printer. It had an array of various textures it could make, and you bent down, inspecting all the options on the screen. “What’s the coldest temperature the Nitinol alloy on this thing can withstand?”
“Negative one hundred degrees Celsius,” Tony frowned at you, uncertain of whether to look at you or Fury. “What’s she doing here?”
Satisfied with your inputs, you turned away from the machine as it began to print off your new suit. “I’m y/n. Latest unwilling participant in the Avengers Initiative.”
“She’s going to help us with our other problem.”
“What, Reindeer Games?” He twirled a wrench over his knuckles, scrutinizing you. “Yeah, unless you’re a god, good luck with that. He’s a crafty one, with powers and strength to match.”
“Stark.” Fury called Tony’s attention back to him. “She’s Anubis.”
“Anubis? As in the British politician incident?”
“Oh, so you know about that, huh?” You shifted awkwardly, almost wishing you could get on to meeting Loki. A homicidal god was sounding better and better the longer they got into delving into your past. “It was an accident, I swear. I’ve had time to learn how to control myself.”
“You almost assassinated one of the most highly guarded politicians in Europe on accident?” Tony raised an eyebrow. “Know what? You might actually be fine with His Royal Highness out there.”
“His Royal Highness?” You quirked an eyebrow at Fury.
“How about you go have a shower while your suit is made, and I’ll go get you Loki’s file,” the stern director suggested. “It’s always best to know thy enemy.”
An hour later you were clothed, fed, washed, and working your way through the last few pages of Loki’s file. It had been no short summary, rather, the pages had been filled in detail with his exploits, almost all of them falling within the short window of time he’d been in New York. A previously unknown variable, Loki had made himself a formidable enemy almost overnight. Knowing Nick Fury, you could see why he would want Loki on his side. Unfortunately for him, it didn’t really seem like Loki did ‘sides’.
A knock came at the door and you shut the file quickly, as though you had been caught looking at something you shouldn’t have, rather than your required reading. You opened the oak door expectantly, surprised to see the blond man with the cape standing behind it, holding what looked like your finished suit.
“Asgardian tranquilizer,” you nodded at him, allowing him entry. “Nice to see you again.”
Now that you were fully conscious, you recognized Thor Odinson, the God of Thunder. He was his adopted brother’s opposite; buff, blond, and smiley.
“Y/n!” He boomed. “Welcome! Sorry about the lightning thing earlier. Fury insisted and you know how he is.”
“Yeah, I do know.” You laughed, taking your suit from him. “Did he leave already?”
“He had someone speaking to him over his little ear box and had to leave,” Thor said, sitting in a spare chair. You weren’t quite used to how big your room was just yet – there was a table and two chairs (one of which Thor was now occupying), a fireplace with two armchairs, a dresser and closet already filled with clothes, a massive bathroom en suite, and the gigantic bed built for a king. Thor must’ve been right at home with the lavish lifestyle, if he was raised as a prince on Asgard, you mused.
“I’m surprised he managed to hang around this long, to be honest.” You examined the breastplate you’d made. It was perfect, made of brown metal, a golden ankh pressed into the centre. The mask you’d made had turned out perfectly too, the multicoloured metals segmenting the jackal snout that overtook more than half your face as you pulled it on. Only your eyes and part of your forehead remained visible. Other than the metal additions, the rest of your uniform remained similar to how it had been in the past. A black, high necked shirt with long sleeves would go on underneath a dark brown robe. Navy pants would be tucked into brown combat boots, whenever you got around to suiting up.
“Are you the Egyptian god?” Thor asked, watching you curiously as you removed the mask, placing it on top of the rest of the clothes as you dumped them on the bed.
“I’m not actually Anubis,” you clarified. “That would be cool if I were, though.”
“You had some impregnable powers at that farm, and something about you does not feel mortal. Are you sure you do not have any divine blood?” Thor seemed incredulous. You really didn’t feel like explaining the origins of your powers. It was a long, painful story.
“Can you take me to your brother?” You asked, tying your hair back. “I’m to train with him, and I’d like to get started on that as soon as possible.”
“He is confined to his room,” Thor said earnestly. “I will get the handcuffs so you can transport him.”
“Just bring him to the training room,” you suggested. “I’ll wait for him.”
“Best of luck, Anubis.” He bowed his head. “He has not been allowed out of his room since we brought him here.”
“So he’ll have a lot of energy, got it.” You snapped your fingers into a thumbs-up.
Thor gave you one last look of curiosity before he left to go acquire his brother.
You hopped around, dressed in a black sports bra and matching leggings, getting warmed up while you waited for Loki and Thor to reappear in one of the many training rooms. The tower was insanely big, and you had a feeling there would still be some rooms left unexplored when your three months of house arrest were up.
“So you are the insolent mortal they brought in to spar me.” You hadn’t heard Thor or Loki enter the room, but as you spun around, there stood Loki, cuffs binding his hands in front of him, Thor nowhere in sight.
“I’m y/n,” you said, sizing him up from a distance. “And I was forced here, same as you.” You attempted to find some middle ground, something the two of you could relate to.
“Then where are your restraints?” Loki asked, voice smooth as silk as you carefully approached him. He was dressed in full Asgardian leather, raven black hair slicked back and shorter than it had been when he’d attacked New York. It wasn’t an unattractive look for him, though. The news coverage you had seen hadn’t gotten any proper shots of him; you’d been entirely unprepared to see how…handsome he was in real life. A sort of dangerous beauty, the sort only a god could offer.
“I guess I’m simply not as powerful as you are,” you said challengingly, tapping his cuffs. “Are you going to spar in full gear?”
“I refuse to demean myself by dressing in those dreadful cotton polyester blends you humans are so fond of.”
You had to look up quite a bit to look him in the eye. He was taller than you’d anticipated. Even so, you stepped back, footsteps light and easy against the rubber mats that coated the floor. The room was empty other than the two of you and a mirror along one wall. It was perfect.
Keeping a watchful eye on him, you tapped the cuffs lightly, watching them become smoky and float downwards off Loki’s wrists. As soon as they cleared his arms, you grabbed them again and they turned solid.
“A sorceress. How quaint,” Loki said, circling you as you threw the cuffs to a corner of the room.
“I doubt I’m the sort of sorceress you’re expecting,” you shot back, moving as he did, the two of you locked in a careful circle.
With a flick of his wrists, knives appeared in his hands. You saw him watching you, waiting for a reaction, but you were unconcerned.
“Don’t you want a weapon, at least?” He asked through narrowed eyes, tossing the blades into the air and catching them effortlessly.
“Don’t need one.” You gave a come-hither motion with your hands and Loki took the bait after a second, leaping forwards with his knives poised to rip you to shreds.
However, the second he made contact with your body, he passed straight through, like you weren’t even there, stumbling slightly on the other side.
“Interesting,” he said, watching as you re-solidified. “Nothing more than a glorified party trick, yet you think it is enough to beat me, the God of Mischief. You’ll have to try harder than that.”
Loki thumbed his knife for a second before flinging it at you with devastating force. Getting a feel for his fighting style, you ducked, anticipating the second knife. He didn’t disappoint, throwing the second one with as much bravado as its predecessor. Now was as good a time as any to introduce him to who you really were.
A ghost solidified in front of you, taking the knife silently – as the phantoms you summoned always were – before fading away, Loki’s knife dropping to the floor.
You weren’t watching this, however, you were watching Loki’s reaction. You’d seen the reaction to your powers many times; always the same disgust, the same fear, and they’d inevitably never look at you the same way again. With Loki, though, something was different.
He watched the ghost disintegrate in front of you with an odd look, something halfway between a smile and a sneer. His eyes were calculating as his knife clattered against the mats, watching you with a newfound interest.
“Y/n, right?” He asked, as if to double check now that you had his undivided attention.
You nodded, uncertain whether to be happy or unsettled that he wasn’t repelled by the on-call army of the dead you had.
“The pleasure,” he said, stepping forwards. “Is all mine.” With those sugar-coated words, he swung at you, ready to continue the match with his fists alone.
More than happy to comply, you blocked him, allowing the wrestling match to ensue.
It was over an hour before you called the session. Loki was a good fighter, that much you’d anticipated, and he had clearly been pleasantly surprised by your own abilities, as he’d talked your ear off. Most of it was mocking chatter, but you hadn’t minded retaliating in good fun.
“Would you like to do this again tomorrow?” You asked him as you reached for the cuffs in the corner of the room.
Instantly distrustful, he narrowed his eyes at you. “Why?”
“To stay in shape?” You tilted your head. “What do you mean, ‘why’?”
“The other Avengers keep their distance from me, hence the fact that I’ve been confined to my room.” He didn’t sound upset by the truth in his statement, merely factual. You got the impression he really didn’t mind it. But, if Nick Fury wanted you all to work as a team, he’d have to learn to like the Avenger’s company, just as much as they’d have to learn to like him. Or tolerate, at least.
A plan brewing in your mind, you gave him the brightest smile you could manage.
“Good thing I’m not an Avenger yet.”
You spent the remainder of the day waltzing around the Avenger’s tower, introducing yourself. Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Thor, and Bruce Banner all appeared to live there. Clint Barton had already been called away on a SHIELD mission of sorts.
Bruce was surprisingly chill about your attempt to bring out the Hulk while you had been in the medical labs. He hadn’t approved of Fury’s recruitment methods, but apparently your blood had just been ‘so interesting’ he couldn’t pass up a chance to examine you. You were uncertain if that was supposed to be a compliment or merely unsettling.
Loki’s presence was a sore topic, you discovered, when you made your way to the kitchen around six in the evening. Apparently it was Steve’s (or Cap, as most of them called him) turn to cook, or he had been designated the ‘best’ cook out of all of them, and was attempting to make a good first impression on you. Unfortunately, it appeared that he was way in over his head trying to cook for you all, and you took pity on him, stepping in to help.
“I take it Loki doesn’t eat with you guys?” You asked as you tossed the salad.
“Nope. He’s supposed to stay in his room,” was the short answer you received. Pausing your preparation and cocking an eyebrow nudged slightly more of an explanation out of him. “Thor takes him his dinner every night. Loki doesn’t want to eat with us and we don’t want to eat with him.”
“I’ll take him his dinner tonight,” you said, turning your attention back to the salad. “It must be exhausting having your brother baby you all the time.”
You got the sense you weren’t as personally offended by Loki’s existence as the rest of them. He’d never attacked you personally, nor had he been outright unpleasant during your workout session. He seemed to like to talk, and there wasn’t really anyone to talk to in his room besides himself. The others didn’t trust him, for good reason, but so far he’d been cooperative with you. You didn’t discount the fact that he may be using you to further some agenda, but for now you had an apprehensive trust in him.
So, as soon as dinner was ready, you carefully plated the spaghetti and salad, filling a glass with Cabernet Sauvignon you’d swiped from the extensive liquor cabinet.
“What are you doing?” Steve asked, watching your preparation.
“Preparing a proper meal?” You frowned at him, uncertain of why he was confused. “Wine that doesn’t account for the sauce’s acidity will taste bland.”
“We don’t usually give Loki alcohol.”
“Come on, he must be bored stiff, plus we were training today. He deserves to relax.” You ignored Steve’s protests, carefully laying the plate across your arm and lifting the wine glass. “I’ll be back momentarily.”
It took you a moment to find Loki’s room, as you had to double check when you realized it was right next to yours. A blue seal surrounded the door, one that you assumed prevented him from escaping. You had no trouble bypassing it, however.
You knocked on Loki’s door when you reached it, waiting patiently for his exasperated “yes?”.
Backing into the room, you spun around to reveal the food to him. He was, obviously, not as enthralled as you were with your own charity. In fact, he didn’t even look up from the book he was reading. You couldn’t see the cover from where you stood.
“Leave it on the table,” he said, disinterested. Alrighty then. You placed the dish on the table, arranging it nicely before taking your leave. Loki hadn’t even moved a hair’s breadth when you exited.
You flounced back down the stairs to join the rest of the Avengers, not letting on to how Loki had snubbed you, although you were sure they could all guess. In all honesty, you were convincing yourself it didn’t matter. It may have been too early to tell, but you already thought you and Loki were more alike than either of you would ever care to admit. There was time to get him to warm up to you.
That being said, you were determined to complete Nick Fury’s mission for you. Not just so you could go outside again, but also because you’d seen something in Loki during training. He wasn’t a crazed psychopath like the media had made him out to be. Sure, he was a god, but there was something so human beneath his rough exterior. You still couldn’t get away from the way he hadn’t shied away when you’d revealed your powers to him. That was a first.
Whatever had made him accept you – and he probably didn’t even realize he was the first to ever do so – was something special. Something you’d sure like to see more of. The other Avengers hadn’t seen your power in full force yet, so none of them were walking on eggshells around you, but you were certain the day would come.
So what was different about Loki?