Your Favourite Boy

The morning was brisk when you awoke, the early December chill having seized the city. There was to be no training with Loki this morning; you, Thor, and Cap were going over the blueprints for the warehouse before you left on your mission closer to nightfall.

You quickly learned, however, that Thor was not one for blueprints and battle plans, while Steve most definitely was, and the god’s patience was dwindling along with your own.

“Are you sure you don’t want to just wait on the plane?” Cap asked for the fourth time, and you were beginning to think if he didn’t stop talking soon, you were going to put his head through a wall.

“You said stealth was essential to this mission, right? Taking them by surprise and all that?” You groaned, lifting your head from where you’d been burying it in your hands in a desperate attempt not to rip your hair out.

“Yes, but-”

“Then you need me,” you said.

“I’m plenty stealthy,” Cap rebutted, but you jerked your head in Thor’s direction, where he was swinging his hammer around, hitting invisible enemies and making charming impressions of bashing brains.

“He’s not. And that’s where I can help you.” You kicked your boots up onto the coffee table, ignoring Cap’s disapproving noise.

“Speaking of which, I don’t really…not to be rude or anything, but I just don’t know what it is that you…do?” Cap said hesitantly, looking to Thor for some sort of backup.

Thor swung his hammer and pointed it at you. “She’s a scary one! A witch like my brother.”

“Hey!” You said indignantly. “I’m not a witch! Neither is Loki! And there’s a disparity between our various aptitudes that I think you’re discrediting.”

“Are you a god too?” Cap was still confused. “Because you kinda talk like them.”

“Please, I’m not nearly that grandiloquent.”

“See you say that, and then you say it like that and that sort of makes me think that maybe…I don’t know.” Cap shook his head, voice trailing off.

“You’ve been spending an exorbitant amount of time with my brother,” Thor said loudly. “You’re beginning to sound like him.”

“This was how I sounded first!” You huffed, standing up. “I’m going to go suit up.”

“We don’t leave for another…” Cap checked his watch. “…three hours.”

“Let me make this explicitly clear: I am making an excuse so that I can leave this conversation.”

You left the room, ignoring Cap’s sounds of protest, and strolled up the stairs, knocking on the closed door to Loki’s room. After a moment, the door swung open, revealing Loki laying on his bed, reading a thick book.

“Come in,” he said, not looking up from the text.

“Whatcha reading?” You asked.

“Anna Karenina.” He touched his finger to his tongue before flipping the page, quirking an eyebrow ever so slightly.

“Enjoying it?”

“It’s one of my favourites.”

“Really?” You grabbed one of the armchairs, turning it to face the bed before settling down in it. “I would never have associated you with that book.”

“That is because you have yet to overcome the borders of your own mind,” Loki said cryptically, turning a page. “I’ll have you know I enjoy the way Tolstoy paints fatalism.”

“He shows fatalism as a choice,” you agreed, picking at a loose thread on the armchair. “Anna Karenina doomed herself, intentionally.”

“Through her narcissism, maybe. Either way, she ensured there was no other way her story could end,” Loki snorted, shutting the book and turning his eyes to you. “What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t stand another moment with those anserine men,” you sighed, rubbing the back of your neck.

“I didn’t know they were still using that word,” Loki said in a mocking imitation of yourself. You glared at him.

“Don’t you start being annoying now too,” you snipped and crossed your arms across your chest, sinking back into the contours of the chair.

“Please, madame, I cannot think of anyone more amiable than myself.”

“That’s a stretch.”

“Speaking of stretching,” he said, “aren’t you supposed to be leaving soon?”

You checked the time. “I’ve got like, two and a half hours. Want to go to Chipotle?”

“What does that even mean?”

Twenty minutes later, you were standing at the payment counter at Chipotle, waiting for Loki to finish ordering his burrito, doing your best not to burst out cackling. He was dressed in his typical Asgardian leather and attracting quite a lot of stares as he loudly instructed the employee not to put beans in it.

“Is it to your satisfaction, my king?” You said sarcastically when he finally joined you.

“We’ll see.” He watched the employees bag the burritos with a distrustful eye as you handed over your credit card.

You were barely outside the restaurant before Loki was digging through the paper bag, attempting to figure out which burrito was his. Once he’d figured out what the acronyms on the foil wrapper meant, he opened one of them up, taking a massive bite.

“You do realize that we could’ve waited until we were back at the tower?” You asked, raising an eyebrow as he took another ginormous bite.

“Why didn’t you show me this sooner?” Loki managed, despite the fact his mouth was stuffed full.

“Show you Chipotle?” You stepped out into the street, making sure that Loki was following.

“I’ve been eating that awful oatmeal Captain Steve Rogers eats and for what? This, now this is spice! This is an excellent combination of flavours. I didn’t expect this from you mortals. You’ve truly outdone yourselves.”

“Man, it’s a burrito. I don’t even think it’s authentic Mexican.” Grabbing his wrist as a car swerved to avoid him, you yanked Loki onto the sidewalk. “You think you could focus on something else other than your food for a second?”

“No,” he said, using a flash of green magic to wipe the juices that had begin to dribble down his chin from his fervent devouring. “Once you try yours, you’ll see. It’s simply delectable.”

“Believe it or not, I have actually had Chipotle before.” You held the door of the tower open for him so he wouldn’t get his sauce-covered hands all over it. “It didn’t make me see the pearly gates of heaven or the hallowed halls of Valhalla or whatever.”

“Then you didn’t do it right,” Loki said as the two of you entered the dining room. You grabbed two plates, turning back to face him only to find he’d already polished off his whole burrito.

“Are you kidding me?” You said, pulling your own burrito out of the bag. “That was barely a ten minute walk.”

He watched you take your first bite with interest and, to your credit, you played it up a little bit, making a little ‘mm’ noise when you bit into it, but Loki seemed to call your bluff. Without waiting for an invitation, he leaned forwards and took another one of his huge bites out of your burrito.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing!”

“See,” Loki said once he’d swallowed, avoiding your attempts to swat at him, “you got chicken in yours. I got pork in mine. The keys to paradise must be stored in the pork.”

“You’re proper insane,” you huffed, holding your burrito far out of his reach. “A true madman.”

“I tried to take over your planet and yet the first time you question my sanity is when I eat your food?”

“Sounds about right.” You quickly finished, if only to stave off Loki’s attempts to eat it. Mentally comparing him to his brother and his insatiable appetite, you put your dishes away.

“Okay, now I really am going to go suit up,” you said, glancing out the window at the gradually fading light. “We’re going to be leaving soon.”

You hadn’t even realized you were shivering until Loki laid a gentle hand on your shoulder, fingers fluttering like he might pull away at any moment.

“Nervous?” He asked, voice quieter than usual.

“Not of the mission itself. Only of what will come after.” You couldn’t bring yourself to elaborate.

He removed his hand as Cap and Thor strolled into the room, clasping it behind his back and stepping away from you.

“Ready to go, y/n?” Cap asked. “Plane leaves in twenty minutes.”

“Just gotta get dressed,” you said, shooting Loki an imploring look before quickly running off to get changed.

The second you pulled your mask on, feeling it meld perfectly to your face, the filter stored in the snout of the jackal helping you fill your lungs with fresh oxygen, you felt an overwhelming sense of peace. Once you pulled up your hood, you were unrecognizable. You slid on your fingerless leather gloves, flexing your hands into a fist once before deeming your outfit as passable. Some of the other Avengers had the flashiest outfits imaginable, but you didn’t need to overcompensate in that department. In fact, you relied on being underestimated.

Once you’d returned to Cap and Thor, you saw that Loki had answered your silent plea. He was standing with them in silence, but turned to you as you approached. The others hadn’t even heard you. For a moment, you watched him take in your whole appearance, eyes dropping to the ankh on your breastplate before sliding back up to your mask.

“Y/n,” he said, causing the other two to turn to look at you.

“Anubis, actually,” you corrected, letting your hands disappear inside your massive sleeves. “At least, as long as I’m wearing the snout.”

“Anubis, Egyptian god of the dead,” Cap said slowly. “A man with the head of a jackal.”

“A whole jackal head was just impractical, but I like this one. Hides my eyebrows. You can never tell what expression I’m making.” To prove your point, you cycled through a selection of expressions. Thor watched you gleefully.

“I can see your eyes move!” He exclaimed.

“No duh,” you said. “But that won’t be much of an issue once we actually get into it.”

“We can talk more on the jet,” Steve said pointedly, grabbing his shield. “Right now we have to go.”

The jet was parked out on the circular landing pad, ready to go. You gave Loki a nod, and although he didn’t return the gesture as you walked out the glass doors, his eyes softened just a tiny bit.

“Arkansas here we come,” Thor cheered as the three of you walked up the ramp and into the jet. The design was sleek and futuristic, and you headed to the cockpit, inputting the coordinates Steve recited to you. Within seconds, the jet was up and running and shooting off into the setting sun.

“Don’t you need a weapon?” Cap asked about an hour into the journey. “We are going to be taking on weapons dealers, after all.”

“My weapons aren’t exactly portable,” you said, avoiding turning to face him, instead glueing your eyes to the horizon.

“That doesn’t really do a lot to ease my conscious.”

You bit your lip before reaching out with your mind, picturing the blades you’d wielded, once upon a time, before you’d locked them in a world beyond worlds. Making an x behind your head by touching the backs of your shoulders, you pulled upwards, uncrossing your arms, feeling the gentle weight of your katanas attach themselves to your back.

“What are those?” Steve said and you stood up, finally looking him in the eye. The blades were longer than your standard katana swords, reaching past the back of your knees. The handles were crafted from a shiny blue jadeite, one you knew from experience could sound like a bell if hit just right.

“I call them Ma’at and Ammit,” you said with a grin, pulling them out, careful not to accidentally wreck the ship in the process. You really did love your mythology references.

“They don’t look very practical,” Thor chimed in.

“They’re perfectly balanced,” you said, holding one out straight in front of you, the sharp point just a few millimetres from Thor’s chest. “I crafted them myself.” In a fluid movement, you flipped it over your head and back into its spot.

“As long as you can fight with them,” Cap said, looking concerned about the future of their ‘stealth’ mission. He needn’t have worried, however. You were a professional.

The plane landed a ways away from the warehouse you were to infiltrate, and Thor assured you he could fly both you and Cap directly to the destination.

“I’ve got my own mode of transportation, but thank you,” you said, wrapping your cloak a little tighter around you as the three of you stepped off the jet. The impending winter brought cold fog curling across the empty field, the warehouse only a speck in the distance. “I’ll see you guys there.”

You reached for the fog, feeling yourself dissolve as it wrapped around you, and you concentrated on exactly where you wanted to be. Within a second you felt yourself re-solidify, directly next to the wall of the building, the shadows assisting in your cover. Thor and Cap weren’t far behind, Thor setting Cap down and sweeping his long blond hair back in one swift move.

“That wasn’t very quiet,” you hissed as you the nearest garage door to you opened. Cap raised his shield to attack, but you held out a hand to stop him.

A group of eight, heavily armed men came out to greet you, guns pointing directly at your group. As soon as they laid eyes on your little trio, one grabbed at the edge of his bulletproof vest, probably about to relay the information about the intruders to whomever was in charge, but you didn’t give him the chance. Pressing a finger to the front of your mask in a ‘shh’ motion, you pushed the air in front of you away, towards the group. And for a moment nothing happened, they all just stared at you, and then they started opening and closing their mouths, attempting to speak but finding their voices worthless.

One of them opened fire and the rest followed in suit, their bullets silent as they pinged off Cap’s shield, passed through you, and bounced off Thor. You walked forwards, your cloak billowing out behind you in the night wind as you reached for the nearest armed guard. The second you made contact he dropped to the ground, dead as a doornail. Despite the fact the armed mob couldn’t make any noise whatsoever, you heard the dead guard’s last breath escape him, and with it, his soul.

It could’ve been the loudest battle ever, and you still would’ve heard it. You heard it every time you used that power. The sound of a thousand last breaths, forever etched in your soul.

But you’d come too far to turn back now. Even as you felt the eyes of Cap and Thor behind you, you reached out, grabbing onto the rest of the group in quick succession, all of them dropping, every last breath reaching your ears.

“How long do we have until they wake up?” Cap asked you as you all snuck in the way the guard had come from.

“They won’t wake up,” you said quietly. “They’re dead.”

You had known how he’d react. Even so, watching the blood drain from his face and his jaw fall slack open, you wished you could take it back. It was macabre, your power, and he realized it. He was properly realizing that every single time he bumped into you, it was a brush with death. Sometimes your power made you feel strong. At times like these, it made you feel like a monster, especially since you’d already begun to think of Steve as family.

“That’s why they call you Anubis.” It wasn’t a question.

“They call me Anubis because I’m the embodiment of the grim reaper. They’re all terrified of me, and I know you are too.” You did your best to keep your chin up, turning and striding into the dark warehouse, even as tears threatened to fall. Rejection you were used to. The sting it brought was new every time.

It appeared deserted on the inside, the machines had all been put on emergency lockdown, all personnel either having evacuated or lying in wait. You didn’t bother with stealth now; they obviously knew you were here. Unlike Cap and Thor who hung back, attempting to scout the area, you walked out, unafraid of anything they might try and hit you with.

Sure enough, once you were in the centre, the two boys following you like very precarious shadows, a ring of men in full riot gear stepped out of the dark, holding up guns that glowed with some sort of blue energy. As soon as they locked their guns on you, they opened fire.

You heard Thor exclaim somewhere behind you and swing his hammer into battle, Cap jumping out not far behind, but there was easily thirty men doing their very best to kill you.

Levelling your stare on the nearest man, you grinned menacingly, the snout of your mask coming to life and baring its teeth, and you saw a flash of fear through his goggles. Already, fog was pouring out from your feet, the temperature of the warehouse dropping drastically. The corners of your vision lit up with a warm orange glow, a sure sign your eyes were glowing as you raised your phantom army.

The dead you called upon launched into battle immediately, opening fire upon the enemy as you stood, still no more than a ghost yourself lest you be hit by a stray bullet. Within seconds, the adversaries had been completely defeated and the ghosts disappeared, back to wherever they came from, waiting for the next time you called upon them.

Throwing your head back, you laughed, your mask turning it into a jackal’s call; a high-pitched, short howl that permeated all the senses, the sort that seemed to wake you up when you were already awake. You knew that the two men you were with were afraid of you, and you knew there was no coming back from that. And so you laughed harder, as if the more you laughed, the deeper you could bury their rejection. You laughed until you scared even yourself, and then you stopped, resting your hands on your knees as tears pricked your eyes once more. Nothing was funny.

“Grab some sample tech for Tony and Bruce to study, then we need to burn this place to the ground,” Steve said, looking directly at Thor as he spoke, as though looking at you would condemn him to the same fate as the men now lying on the floor. As Thor went about his business, Cap turned slightly towards you, still averting his eyes. “You were right. You don’t need a weapon to kill someone.”

“Unfortunately, I am the weapon,” you said, taking a shuddering breath. “And I’m not Medusa, you can look me in the eye.”

Cap took a deep breath of his own, slowly turning to you, just as one of the men on the floor twitched and suddenly threw a knife, embedding it in Captain America’s torso. In one swift move, you grabbed one of the blades off your back and sliced the man’s head clean off.

“Captain!” Thor called, running back over with an armful of weapons, ones you quickly grabbed off of him and turned to smoke, sending them off to the same dimension you’d stored your swords in.

“I can get him to the jet and heal him if you can set this place ablaze,” you said to the god over the sound of Cap’s laboured breathing.

“I’m fine,” he insisted, attempting to move forward but groaning as he did so. You knew he just didn’t want to be left alone with you.

“You’re not. You may be a super soldier, but a stab wound to the gut is a stab wound to the gut.” You called upon the fog again, wrapping an arm around Cap’s shoulders and willing the two of you to dissolve, feeling the temperature freeze before the two of you could be carried away from that place.

The booming of thunder as Thor brought a lightning storm down upon the building could be heard as you carefully laid Cap down on the ground of the jet, his eyes closed, possibly from fear, pain, or as a side effect of travelling through the fog. Maybe all three. Either way, you wrapped your hand around the handle of the knife and pulled it out, ignoring the little gurgle of blood that came up with it.

Healing others was always harder than healing yourself. Even so, you ripped off your mask and placed your fingers on either side of the wound, willing Steve’s body to repair itself. Maybe this way you could redeem yourself, even if only a little bit.

A flash of yellow-orange, like the purest of flames, rose out from the wound, bathing your face in the light. The wound sealed up, leaving only the faintest of scars and after one quick pass of your hand, that was gone too.

“The warehouse is on fire,” Thor said, landing in the jet so heavily the whole thing bounced. “We should go now.”

“I’m getting there,” you grumbled, leaving Cap to wake up on his own as you made your way back to the cockpit, easily maneuvering the plane off the ground and into the night sky.

“What happened?” You heard Cap groan from behind you and you turned your chair around to watch Thor help him up.

“You got stabbed, but it appears you’re okay now,” Thor said, peering at the rip in Steve’s uniform. “Y/n has healing magic.”

“That’s not all she has,” Cap said, instinctively pressing a hand to where the wound had been previously. “What was all that? Where are the weapons?”

Wordlessly, you stretched out a hand, pulling the weapons from their magical storage space, allowing them to unceremoniously drop to the floor.

“See? Like that. Does Nick Fury know you can do all this? How old are you anyways, twenty something? And you’re out here with the ability to kill someone through a simple touch?”

“Nick Fury knows that I am capable of far more than what you just saw,” you said, your voice sounding foreign to your own ears. “And you knew that I controlled death, yet you still told Fury you were willing to work with me. It is not my fault that this is who I am, and this is how you ask me to use my powers. I am sorry they are not up to your standards of what a hero is.”

“Heroes don’t usually just kill someone like that!”

“You would rather I kill them with a sword? Or with a shield like yours? When I touch them, they do not suffer, unlike the pain you would have me subject them to.”

“It doesn’t seem fair!” Steve yelled, and it seemed like the jet fell quiet. All you could hear was his breathing as he attempted to regain control of his own emotions.

“Captain Steve Rogers, life is not fair. War is not fair. The timing and manner of death may be unfair also, but death is indiscriminate, unlike the others. If you do not approve of my methods, tell me what you would have me do.”

He stared at you, dead silent, and you gave him a deadened expression before swinging back around in your chair.

“That’s what I thought.”

The rest of the ride back was silent, Cap and Thor remaining in the back, even as you touched down on the tower’s landing pad. Despite being in the cockpit, y0u were the first off the jet, hooking your discarded mask over your foot as you passed it and flicking it up to your hands to catch it. The boys must’ve sent some sort of message back in advance, because the other Avengers were standing there, including Loki. You ignored them, walking into the building and straight up to your room.

Hushed voices could be heard through the floor, and you headed into the shower, hoping somehow you could wash away your sins with the rest of the night’s grime accumulated. You’d seen this sort of thing play out before when it came to your powers. You knew the way this story ended. And so you took your time washing your hair.

By the time you were done, the bathroom was filled with steam and your eyes were red from tears that mingled with the rest of the droplets on your face. Wrapping your bathrobe around you, you stepped out of the bathroom, beelining for your bed. To your annoyance, Loki was already sitting there, his feet stretched out in front of him.

“No shoes on the bed,” you grumbled, climbing up next to him, sliding your legs under the covers and leaning back against the wall of pillows that headed the bed.

“They’re clean.”

“I don’t care, I don’t like it.”

Surprisingly, Loki didn’t argue as he slid his dress shoes off, dropping them beside the bed. You sniffled, swiping at your nose furiously.

“Why are you here?” You said, doing your best to sound indifferent and annoyed, despite the waver in your voice.

“I’m afraid I’m a rather unwelcome presence with the group at the moment. See, I punched Captain America in the face.”

“You what?” You turned towards him, expecting him to be joking, but he looked dead serious.

“He was not being very polite about you.”

“Since when are you the sort to defend my honour?”

“Since I could relate.” He looked you in the eye earnestly, his blue eyes dark in your room with only the light on the bedside table to light it. Sometimes the shadows of the night made him look sinister, shrouded in mystery, but this time he only looked sincere. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Loki, I…” You scrunched up your face as fresh tears slipped out your eyes. Comprehensive words failed to form as you leaned towards him, pressing your face into his chest. You heard him let out a little breath, then strong arms wrapped themselves around you, holding you there. Had you been slightly more lucid, you would’ve realized how out of character this was for him, but right now you didn’t care.

“What am I going to do?” You finally managed. “They’re going to kick me out, and I don’t have anywhere to go anymore.”

“You know Fury won’t let that happen. He sees you as too valuable an asset to lose.”

“That doesn’t exactly make me feel any better, Loki.”

He sighed, and you felt his chest rise and fall with it, an oddly calming sensation. “I can’t promise you that all the Avengers are going to come around to the whole idea of Anubis, but I can promise you that no matter what happens, they’ll eventually be able to separate you from who you are in the suit. Just like they do with Banner and the Hulk.”

“Okay, but that’s a bit different, see, Banner isn’t in control of the Hulk, and he can’t prevent the Hulk from doing awful things. I’m in full control here.”

“The way I see it, you’re just using the powers you’ve been given. Sure, are they a little different than the concept of powers? Yes! Does that make you any less of a hero? That’s up to you. You can’t help the tools you’re given, but what you can do is decide how you use them.”

“That’s…weirdly insightful.” You pulled back from his chest to look him in the eye. “Loki, are you sure you’re okay?”

“You’re not the only one the Avengers see as an enemy,” he said wistfully. “But I am starting to gain control of my mind again, being able to force out the thoughts that weren’t my own.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked, peering at him.

“The sceptre that allowed me to control Barton and the others, it controlled me too. Now that I am free of it, I am beginning to ransom my soul from all that has bound it.”

“Do the others know this?” You mind was whirring with all you thought you had known about Loki. If the atrocities he’d committed during his attempt to become god-king hadn’t been his own doing, then what were you to make of him now? Who was he, in the eyes of the Avengers, beyond his actions of the months past?

“No, and I don’t think I shall ever tell them. Some rocks do not need looking under.”

“But they’ll never know you’re not…”

“A villain? There are other ways of overcoming one’s past, y/n. Their opinions of me mean nothing, and I have doubt they’d even believe me. Besides, it was not too far a stretch of my character. Maybe I’m not all tooth and nail, but I’m far from one they’d willingly interact with.”

“I guess we’re both just misunderstood then, huh?” You laid back on the bed, your eyes growing heavy.

“‘Speak what you think now in hard words, and to-morrow speak what to-morrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradict every thing you said to-day. —‘Ah, so you shall be sure to be misunderstood.’—Is it so bad, then, to be misunderstood? Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be great is to be misunderstood.’” Loki recited, his voice the same idyllic quality it took on every time he quoted something.

“That sounds familiar,” you breathed, sleep edging the corners of your conscious.

“Ralph Waldo Emerson, his eighteen forty-one essay titled ‘Self-Reliance’.”

“I love it when you do that.” You yawned wide, now completely incapable of preventing yourself from nodding off. “That quote thingy.”

“I know,” you heard him whisper before you drifted off to sleep.