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Chapter Text

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Loki's Legend: Falling (Book 1)

Part 1 of 2

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Prologue

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Green eyes gaze past the golden shield of his cell, one that keeps him from escaping and was enforced that he wouldn't use any of his seidr to escape. He sees the cold dark dungeons and the other cells, filled with prisoners. Guards march past him without a thought, and he mentally lets out a bitter chuckle.

It is rather ironic. Asgard has finally had the second Prince of Asgard to his rightful place—the dungeons. The looks of delight at the sight of him going to the dungeons and the hate looks people sent him.

"Serves him right after everything he has done."

"I knew he should never be trusted."

"He has killed hundreds, and then attempted to rule that realm?"

"How could he?"

It should have been glorious. The plan had been perfect. His mind had calculated every angle and variable, analyzing any possible flaws to it. Perhaps maybe he should have thought more thoroughly, but he had done it quickly and had maybe underestimated them. Those fools had ruined it. He had imagined after it went as it should be (what he wanted), it would end with cheers and joy from people. He would have seen the looks of admiration and respect he deserved and earned. But most of all, he would finally felt accepted. He would have no longer felt living in the shadows. And it had angered and frustrated him that not everything went according to what he planned.

Then an image of Thor comes to his mind. He remembers Thor dragging him down the dungeons and putting him in this cell. His brother's face is grim with anger and the look of betrayal. Loki scoffs, his mind ignoring the words Thor left on his mouth. He doesn't need to know what Thor had felt. But the last word he had spoken before he left, his mind could not ignore it.

"You are not my brother. I do not know you anymore." With one last look of hate, Thor turned away and left before Loki could reply.

Loki gaped before his jaws tensed. The burning rage and frustration he felt crawled up to him. Never had he wanted more than anything but to strangle his oafish brother. How idiotic and foolish? How he hated him? He cannot believe this.

Yet at this moment, he feels content. He would have pondered why he would feel content at this moment and after everything that has happened. He should have screamed and yelled. Maybe he should be panicking. He should have cursed with bitterness, hurt, rage, and betrayal he had felt but he was not letting anyone have the satisfaction of him in this rotten cell, not when he still holds the pride and dignity he has left.

Right now, he doesn't care. After given time to think, and something about now—perhaps it is this cell, maybe it is the fabric of the tunic he is wearing—makes him recall a brief yet distant memory from his childhood. It holds something of importance, yet cannot comprehend why. It has a lingering feeling of wonder and content back when he was a child.

He had wanted to go out to the market, outside of the palace to see what people were like. He wanted to see what people sell and the colorful items he had heard. Once the doors of his bedroom shut, he had quickly pulled off his covers, snatching his favorite black cloak with a hood as he sneaked outside the palace with the routes planned on his head.

He had grimaced when he reached the market that was filled with stalls of delectable fruits and clothing, and the feeling of awe and wonder quickly died as people bumped into him while he made sure the hood still stayed covering his face. The noises had irritated him. Voices of people shouting and music so loud, he couldn't hear clearly.

Then his eyes had caught a small trinket in one of the stalls, and just the sight of it made him feel curious yet drawn to it. He knew he wanted to purchase it and have it in his room and examine it. Excitement filled up with eagerness, knowing that he would enjoy exploring this place.

He had never felt much free than this. And much more content as he allowed himself to smell the fresh air, and he caught the smell of bread and sweets like any other child would want.

His thoughts are cut off, snapping him into the present. Familiar footsteps heading his way, and he looks up as the person comes to view.

His eye narrows, jaw clenching, and then says. "You."

Chapter Text

Falling

…

Culver University – Part 1

…

"Legends tells us one thing, History, another. But every now and then, we find something that belongs to both."

-Nick Fury

…

January 3, 2012

"River stop it." Lucas muttered, eyeing at the artefact with great detail. He can hear River moving behind him with the huff on her tone.

"You've been staring that for hours," She whined. "It's already lunch."

Lucas stopped the urge to roll his eyes. Finally, he took his eyes off the object to look at her. "I have my own lunch. There are things worse than a cafeteria meal."

River wrinkled her nose. "That trash. Ew. I was talking about Carl's Box."

"No thanks," Now it was his turn to wrinkle his nose, turning back to the artefact. "I'll just stay."

River huffed before she took her things and left.

Lucas sighed. There was nothing special about this one except it was of Egyptian origin. Taking a mental to contact the AHA and the FBI later, he moved to another crate.

"Item 11," He said to the recorder. "Found in Nageswara Swamy Temple at Perumallapadu within India's eastern state of Andhra Pradesh. Time Period: Most likely around the First Intermediate." The artefact was old, with the runes carved on the reddish stone side. Simply one of the mortal's languages, Hindu. Maybe?

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Removing one of his gloves, he answered without taking a look at the caller. "What?"

"Hey, D.B. Cooper, River mentioned that you stayed behind," Aaron remarked.

Lucas rolled his eyes, seeing where his roommate was going with this. He turned his back on his work, almost leaning against the table. "Your proposal for a drink again? You think everything is worth a drink. If only I have gold for every drink you mentioned, I would be a rich man in no time."

He could hear Aaron chuckling. "You don't need to be filthy rich when you can take advantage of me."

"Lovely." Lucas dryly replied. "Your main purpose of your existence."

"Anyway, as your dear friend," Aaron tried to pull off that horrible accent that had Lucas chuckling. "I need to remind you that you are overworking yourself."

"So you say." Deadpanned.

"You're right, that's not really me. When are you going to realize that River has been crushing on you for so long?" He said that so cheerfully that Lucas can sense an incoming migraine forming.

"No thanks to you," Lucas said, tiredly. "How many times must I relentlessly tell you? River is just a colleague. What I cannot comprehend is why do you feel the need to 'set me up' with someone?"

"Since when is the last time you dated?"

"Since when have I shown interest to do so?!"

"Well, I am not going to apologize for that, Lukes." Aaron said with that nickname he despised. "You haven't been getting out a lot more, your head is stuck on a book. And Christ, haven't you really look at River?"

"What makes you think I am interested in her?"

"She's hot, that's what! What's wrong with her?"

"I have no interest in pursuing a woman, nor any others, Aaron." Lucas reminded him firmly. Then he added, "And she's too young for my taste."

"That's what you said the last time when I got you hook on a date with Raven! Actually, you said that about every woman."

"Don't resume this," Lucas said, putting the magnifying glass down. With his mood destroyed, he decided to head to his office. He can come back for that examination later. "I never interfere with your love affairs, don't I?" Not that he really cared, except if Aaron's courting involved contamination of their apartment. He shuddered when he walked into the kitchen and found Aaron and his lover fondling by the counter. "So help me, I will be forced to retaliate of your pathetic attempts with Kate. She's not the worst, I believe." Lucas mused, with a touch of amusement.

"Dude, she studies therapy!" Aaron sounded horrified.

Lucas's mouth twitched upwards. "Well, I hope she remedies you."

Now he can imagine Aaron with the deadpanned look.

"It's not the first time you dated a doctor. You liked the last one I believe." Lucas muttered. Ignoring the hitch on Aaron's voice, he finally made it to his office. His colleague often joked how his place looked more like a Victorian era. His shelves were packed with small souvenirs and pictures of artifacts he collected in one of his expeditions nearly worldwide. He only turned on his desk lamp before he threw himself onto his seat. It was cruel, Lucas thought. But he didn't find it amusing for his roommate to bring up the fact any more than the other times he tried to get involved with his project.

"I just want to help," Aaron said quietly.

Lucas ignored the twinge of guilt in his chest. The words "I apologize" should be said. Yet what came out of his mouth were, "Is that all?" Almost wearily.

He can hear Aaron sighing. "I checked the soil samples you sent me."

It took awhile for Lucas to remember what he was referring to.

Work. That he can manage. "And?"

There was a sound of paper shuffling. "It's in Norway. Specifically, Lofoten islands."

Lucas froze. Damn. Barely able to believe what he heard, he ended the call.

"Norway," He whispered. Coincidence. Gradually, his eyes were drawn at the large crates left in the corner of the room. He remembered the reports he had heard. He didn't dare to hope at that time. But – it confirmed what he suspected.

His work had been based on the ancient runes, symbolic equivalent of cultural remaining – ancient documents and historical hearsay. He had the advantage of knowing better than these mortals.

The implications were terrifying but also thrilling. He gazed absently through the bay window. The Midgardian sun sifting through the trees, but it seemed as if the Norns shed light upon him. As an odd combination of fear and exhilaration settled over him, Lucas knew that he didn't really have a choice on this matter.

A choice.

…

Thousands of miles away, near the busy European Streets, two men were meeting in secret. Yet in plain sight among the crowd. One of them was seated on the park bench, his large coat and fedora covering his identity and build.

"Har du det?" The man in charge said. Do you have it?

"Ja," The other man handed him the folder that contained classified documents, not meant for others to know.

The one in charge opened the folder. There were pictures of hidden temples in Norway, with runes not familiar to them written on the entrance. The third-party source believed it has a certain distinction of Old Norse, but perhaps around the Iron Age. Like Etruscan, the Italian peninsula.

"Kjenner du oversettelsen?"

"Nei."

"Vi er nær å finne det." His fingers tapped on the pages. "Phase two will begin."

…

There was nothing he hated more than paperwork.

Lucas sighed. He needed a break from this, and possibly, a drink if work like this continued. Perhaps Aaron might be able to sway him for a night, especially under these circumstances.

It wasn't that he hated Anthropology, nor its specific field, Archaeology. He thought it was a good idea, at first. What better way to study this realm was to infiltrate and study the human society through its histories? More of an intergalactic cultural exchange, except one-sided. It served his purpose and allowed the better cover to blend in with them. Within few months of studying this realm, Lucas can safely say no one would be able to look twice at him by maneuvering himself into power through subtlety instead.

But forcing himself to be condemned with this sort of matters such as handling the department's paperwork, was another. It had taken great care and time to cultivate himself to the Head's grace and favor, from doing its tiresome chores and to be a willing addition to some of its expedition and take some of their burdens off with himself when it came to identifying some of the artefacts. It's…technically illegal. But he understood better the reins of power in this place and insinuated himself at their helm, playing through the shadows with the help of his connections until all the paths of commands led back to him. It was more of a failsafe in case something went wrong, and he wanted something solid and his to keep his sanity in check.

Midgard lacked some finesse. Though he was unfamiliar with some of its historical periods (except Viking Age and Proto-norse period), nor was he born of theirs, there was something to admire about their stubborn determination for technological advances despite their short life-span.

"Loki…"

The voice sent shivers down his spine. A name he hadn't use for a long time. A name that shouldn't have power over him, yet it called to him. Lucas' eyes narrowed, trying to place where it came from.

"Loki…"

He snapped his head towards the mirror placed next to the two large crates sent from the department for further examination. He slowly crept towards it, trying to get a sense of what it could possibly hold.

But only his reflection stared at him.

If only he had—

His mobile phone rang. Too exhausted to be annoyed, he checked his phone.

From River, 6:01pm

'Lucas, u done with the preliminary report for the expedition?'

'Have the Field Party Chief and whoever is the Physical Science Aid do their parts.' Lucas replied.

From Aaron, 10:38pm

'You up for a drink?'

He spoke too soon. He quickly called Aaron and was answered on the first ring.

"Aaron, need I remind you to be sober for the rest of the week?" Lucas said. Not that he particularly cared to keep his friend sober despite Aaron's attempts to join him for a drink. He can imagine Aaron rolling his eyes.

"Bastard," Aaron said gleefully. "You are going to regret it after what this mother fucker had finally done!"

"Which is?"

"It's complete."

He froze in surprise. "It is?" He gripped the armrest.

"Well, only testing phase. It should start tomorrow. Speaking of which, I'm inviting you to come." Then Aaron paused, and Lucas got a sense he knew this was about Aaron's self-esteem issues. The need to prove he was capable yet hiding it. "I don't know why you don't want to help. With your brains, this could have been finished a month ago."

Lucas sighed. "That's why I recommended Shane to you. He's the Astrophysicist. You don't need an Anthropologist."

A few months ago, Aaron had approached him of the hypothetical interstellar travel device that can bring NASA's projects into shame. Aaron hoped for him to be recruited into the project, but Lucas refused to be involved directly.

We cannot get involved in the realms' affairs any longer. That suspiciously sounded like Odin.

There was no stopping Aaron. Not for this. Not for anything. "Tell me, is it for her or for him?" Those words that he never thought would be uttered again. And that lays the bitterness of the situation. How the Norns were cruel to him.

Silence.

"For myself mostly," Aaron admitted. Lucas can tell that wasn't the full truth, suspecting it was the former and a bit of the latter. It's almost disgusting, but then he didn't know which of the two choices were worst.

Wearily, he ignored the ring of his fax machine. He stood in the dim light of his study. He checked the pile of letters he set aside. The first one was about the expedition that would eventually be set in Norway. Hopefully. Next was the documents from the WVAS that needed to be signed. The next one was a brochure from the Virginia Anthropology Society. Another one was a note from the FBI who want further details of the crates they sent to him. The last one made him paused. His mentor reminded him of the dissertation that he was supposed to pass in a few months as his independent study.

Reminded by Aaron's findings. But it can wait, can it?

He has been used to this realm for a long while now. There was no need to rush just to confirm his suspicions. Even if there was a part of him that demanded to travel to Norway all by himself, yet another part that told him - he can't bring himself to really abandon the life he created here. Why does he always come back to the remaining of his past when he wished otherwise?

Why indeed?

…

Lucas hated Midgardian's sun. He was told that happened at this particular time and setting, something about the hemisphere. But it only just annoyed him. He supposed it was bearable compared to the dry land he experienced. After a nice nap from his apartment, he got ready for today.

His satchel bounced on his waist as he walked down the wide hallway of Hewitt's private research facility while holding two coffees that he bought on the way. It's been a long while since he had been here. The hallways seemed countless, branching off the main atrium. High surveillance and security, but with Aaron's blessing, he had full clearance to the building.

Now there was a sense of deep rumbling up ahead.

He slammed the arch-shaped set of metal doors with his foot that led to the building's center. The noise was more pronounced with every step, reverberating through the walls. The room was filled with equipment, machines that were hooked—all connected to the main one right in the middle, where Aaron was rushing back and forth.

Overhead, the bluish glass roof shimmered in the afternoon sun, casting rays of geometric patterns in the air and giving the room a sense of grandeur. No doubt Aaron's style, Lucas thought. Angular shadows fell like veins across the white-tiled walls and down to the marble floors. The air smelled clean, sterile. On the lower levels, he can see the floor was a mesh grid. Visible beneath the grid was the metallic blur connecting to the main console at the center. A handful of mortal scientists moved briskly about, their footsteps nearly echoing in this space.

And Lucas couldn't help but feel amazed at the progress.

"Dramatic much?" A dry voice said behind him. Lucas gave Shane a tired look, who had been leaning near the front doors. It was a shame the doors didn't hit his face.

He wasn't really in a mood for this.

"Lucas!" Aaron beamed before ducking out a beam that nearly knocked his head off. "You brought coffee!" His voice was lamentably enthusiastic that had Lucas regret coming here.

Upon closer look at Aaron's face, Lucas raised his eyebrow in concern. "You look terrible." He nodded at the dark eye bags.

"I suppose you are lucky," Shane muttered, joining with them.

"You didn't catch some sleep?" Lucas turned his questioning gaze at Shane, handing the coffee to Aaron.

"And you didn't buy me some?" Shane grumbled.

Lucas shrugged as he leaned against the railing, his left leg crossed. It's not as if Shane asked for it. "So..." He nodded the equipment.

"It is almost finished! Today's the day, D.B Cooper!" Aaron said excitedly. He rushed to one of the nearest monitors. "I check the readings. It is ready and complete. I'm sure this is going to work!"

"Did you know he started naming this project TARDIS?" Shane muttered to Lucas, preventing Aaron from hearing them.

"A what?" Lucas' face wrinkled at the thought.

"Time and Relative Dimension in Space." From the tone of Shane's voice, Lucas has a feeling it has something to do with some 'pop culture reference' Aaron had gleefully explained whenever some phrases were thrown at his vicinity. Shane noticed his blank look, "You're a brit, how can you not know?"

Lucas didn't answer.

Aaron was bouncing around the room, eyes wide with enthusiasm. Lucas shared a look with Shane, understanding Aaron's…hyper personality can do. It was no wonder how they can barely keep up with him, Lucas thought.

"This is your fault," Shane muttered to him. But underneath the gruff tone, there was fondness. "He's been like this for the past 22 hours. And I have to miss it."

"I can hit you," Lucas offered in jest.

Shane gave him a glare before he muttered something about getting himself coffee as he left the room.

With a small glance at the glass dome, he was in, Lucas wondered if it would work. Relentless mortals, maybe, but most of the time, he underestimated their ability. Contrary to what Aaron believed, it had nothing to do with Aaron's intelligence. Rather it had to do what he was. A Midgardian. Though he kept that thought to himself, knowing Aaron would not be pleased.

In fact, if there was a mortal capable of building interstellar travel, it would be Aaron. He had the nasty luck of proving him wrong. And, if Lucas was honest to himself, he sincerely hoped Aaron will succeed. Mostly for his roommate's sake.

It's funny how far Lucas came to this realm. Here he was, watching the mortals progress further. If someone told him that he would be living in this backwater realm, he would laugh and ask if they had been drinking mead. Ever since he fell to this place, quite literally, his mind never came to rest in those early days.

He remembered those thoughts. At first, it was fear mixed with concern. Eventually, the emotions twisted to the sense of betrayal. How he wanted to hurl at them in rage. Break them. And maybe even kill them. Those blue eyes of the brother that never was haunted him as Lucas tried to adapt to this realm. His chest hurt at the image while he scrambled for the nearest population. While he was down, the mortals were there to pick him up, even though he hadn't done anything to deserve such kindness.

The Dark Prince was dead. Had been for a long time. Loki Odinson had ceased to exist.

And Lucas was born. An identity that was his. A choice. The truth instead of a lie.

And nobody can take that away from him.

Even if there was a possibility, Aaron's device worked. Even if it meant that this realm would be recognized among the stars as a worthy land to visit.

And even if it means calling someone's attention. A dark corner of his mind whispered. Lucas pushed that voice down. There was no reason if it came to that point. It has been hundreds of years since this realm was left alone. His presence shouldn't change that, as long as Lucas played his cards right.

Stay in the shadows. Adapt. Blend in. Observe.

The whole equipment started to beep, bringing back Lucas' attention. Aaron stood at the bottom floor, his hands pressed together like a prayer.

Lucas watched, detached, his mind churning circles like the blades, wondering if a full night's sleep would make his current disorientation any clearer. Somehow, he doubted it.

A sense of foreboding came over him. One of the monitors was blinking red.

"Start it, in 5...4...3...2..." Aaron said.

Then suddenly, the whole room shook. Scientists rushed around in a panic, looking at the monitors and checking the equipment. Lucas' eyes flicker around the room before he saw a bright light that nearly blinded him. And then, something pushed him right across the room, his head knocking against the wall that nearly took him out of breath. His vision turned black as people screamed around him.

…

Sharon couldn't help but inwardly curse at her past self's stupidity. Anyone wouldn't mind this assignment, but Agent Coulson trusted her for this. Keep a lookout. Blend in. For the past two months, she had been living in this apartment, keeping an eye out for Aaron Hewitt, her neighbor. Who also happened to be the heir to Hewitt's corporation and the CEO's only child.

According to their intel, Jack Monroe should be here in West Virginia.

She looked out the peephole, waiting to see if Aaron would return. A few minutes ago, she had intentionally bumped into Aaron's roommate, who managed to catch her laundry basket from falling off her hands.

She profusely apologized. She said, with the right sheepish smile, "Hey, Lucas, laundry day, eh?"

"You need liquid detergent again, Kate?" Lucas' eyebrow quirked up, almost amused. His eye bags were a bit prominent. Yet he dressed neatly with his white button-down shirt and black slacks. His brown satchel hanging on his shoulder.

"You know me." She grinned, keeping her body language relaxed and almost eager. She peered at his front door, "Say, where's Aaron?"

He eyed at her for a few moments before shrugging, as if her motives were not worth his time. Probably assuming she has a crush on his roommate. "One of his project. I'm actually on the way there. Just need to pick up his coffee."

"Errand boy," Sharon giggled. And it wasn't even fake. Lucas was a bit easy to interact with compared to Aaron, who was more heavy-focused than usual in his work. She sometimes got a feeling Aaron saw through her. Or perhaps it was just her undercover persona that bothered him.

She followed Lucas inside his place. "I was hoping to talk to him."

"Hmm," He said thoughtfully as he stepped into a small room.

Sharon took a moment to examine the place. She has rarely been invited in, despite being on good terms with the two men. Though, she suspected they rarely spend long periods here.

She located Aaron's laptop by the dining table. Tempted as she was to take it, she knew Lucas would notice. Not only that, but Aaron was overly paranoid about his work to the point that not even SHIELD can hack into his laptop. It seemed only Aaron and possibly Lucas knew the password. Though the latter probably didn't know the depth of his work and remained indifferent to his roommate's situation.

SHIELD wanted to know what was Aaron's top-secret project if a man like Monroe was interested. Normally, they had a warrant to investigate these matters. To keep people from reaching beyond that they're not ready for, but Aaron happened to be Nard Hewitt's son. And they can't risk his father from finding out they're keeping a close eye on his son, no matter how good they were.

She suspected that his son was capable of hacking into their RSA implementation if he ever suspected she was a SHIELD Agent.

"Here," Lucas called out, handing her the detergent. "Anything else?"

He looked tired, Sharon noted. It was a shame because he was handsome in a classical sense. Not her type, though, because she always pictured historian-related were more librarian and had a dusty home edged. And Sharon was more into…free-spirited ones. He had the English 'erudite' appeal – wisps of curls in his short black hair, pale skin, probing green eyes, and with the arrestingly smooth voice. He was polite and held people in certain arms-length, with a few exceptions.

Privately, she thought he was a bit of an enigma – a man caught between centuries. Just the perfect stereotypical Anthropologist, except younger and handsome than those shows she used to watch.

"Naah, thanks for helping out your friendly neighbor." She smiled at him while Lucas nodded distractedly.

Her phone rang, pulling her attention away to the present. Without looking, she answered, "Yes?"

"Agent 13, there's been a development." Coulson said. Her eyes narrowed, recognizing her supervisor's tone. She picked up her M&P and placed it on the holster that was hidden underneath her denim jacket. "They've pinned down the location of the package. We need to abort."

"For what?" She muttered, exiting her apartment. If she remembered correctly, based on the tracker she placed on Aaron, the facility should be two blocks from here. "Ouch! Watch it" She snapped at the man she bumped into, "We're so close now."

She can hear Coulson sighed. "Agent 13, I have requisitioned your mobile command unit, to which you are assigned. You need backup now."

"For what?

"We've got possible hostiles in your vicinity."

Her body tensed. "Numbers?"

"Possibly three." Then he paused. "It seemed to be heading towards Aaron's location."

"Damn." Now she was on the run.

If she can get there before they target him—

The research facility was right in front of her now—a rectangular, ultramodern structure of glass and steel with a dome right in the center.

Before she was ready to leap across the bushes, the building exploded. She was thrown from the blast and landed on the mown. Her eyes stared at the building in horror.

No.

…

Lucas' eyes flutter open. The world seemed to be fuzzy, and his head was pounding. He let out a small groan. His body was aching. His world felt like his internal organs screaming at him to move.

Why can't he breathe?

Why can't he—

Few lights danced behind his eyelids. It felt like there was no air but rather ash that made him choke to the point it hurts. He could feel the tension growing inside of his head; the stress and anxiety were occluding his entire being, with his fingers pressed against his chest that felt like his air supply were cut off.

When his vision cleared, he could see fire raining down on him.

What—

He jumped when the sound of the ceiling crashed far across the room. With instinct, he covered his head with his arms, his eyes tearing from the burnt smoke.

Nothing.

Nothing except the sounds of wires making sparks.

What happened?

When he looked up, it took a while for him to notice that his legs were stuck by some cinder blocks and heavy equipment.

Why can't he-

Then a memory came to him. The facility. Aaron. Explosion. Something went wrong. It was almost too difficult to even get enough air in his lungs at the thought.

But—

He pushed himself up, but his body couldn't handle it at the moment that had him cry out.

Lucas took a shuddering breath as he was forced to push out the equipment that was chaining his legs. If he was human, he would have had a lot worse damage than a burnt leg. It might take a few minutes before his body can heal the damage.

Well, he spitefully thought. He wasn't Asgardian anyway. What could fire do to him?

His right side of the pants was burnt off. His wound was slowly ameliorating. His eyes searched for his surrounding, trying to pick up any survivors. But he doubted it. Not with their physiology, even if something twisted inside of him. He can only hope.

"—Ambulance—"

"—Calm down—"

It sounded distant but—

He laughed.

The irony of the Norns.

His laugh hurt. It turned to gasps. And then a dry sob escaped him, shaky fingers were clutching his stomach, nails almost scratching his skin painfully.

This here felt like it. The moments of falling downwards to the abyss again that was more than happy to accept him back and devour him. The sounds of branches of Yggdrasil singing in his ears to the point he can't hear anything else. Lucas didn't want to go back there; he was doing better. Tremors ran through his body. His forehead glistening with sweat, and his eyes were pinched together tightly, tears leaking out of them.

Nobody can see him anyway.

Nobody can.

He can't—

Lucas took a shuddering breath. The temptation was there—

To let it burn.

Let it all burn.

He gripped his arms this time. His thoughts drowning him while another part of him, his self-preservation, was screaming at him to get up and continue—

It wasn't fire that rain down on him. It was darkness that hugged him as the ceiling collapsed further.

…

SHIELD Headquarters. Specific Location: Unknown.

Agent Coulson looked away from the street cameras that showed the building on fire. Agent Hill's lips were pursed while Agent May gazed back at him with that stoic look on her face.

"Agent May, get the bus ready." He commanded.

Created: 7/24/2015
Finished: 1/3/2021 – 1:30PM

NOTES & REFERENCES:

• I just don’t know what to call this chapter. So I just named it Culver University. It does exist in the MCU-canon and can be found in the film The Incredible Hulk. It’s ironic because Loki here is an Anthropologist and in my other fanfic, Nothing More, he’s a physicist. Two distinct fields.

• Yes, there were two Doctor Who references. River is a nod to the character River Song, who happened to be an Archaeologist. And then there’s the TARDIS.
  
  
• In the first scene, the room Loki was in when he was examining the artifacts look something like this:

• I’m definitely not an expert in Anthropology and Archaeology. But there are few mentions that I had to research. Nageswara Swamy Temple at Perumallapadu within India’s eastern state of Andhra Pradesh was founded in 2020, yet they manage to uncover here in this fic few years earlier. West Virginia Archaeological Society (WVAS) and Virginia Anthropology Society does exist.
  
  
• Yes, there's a Loki (Disney+) reference here too. Hehehehehe. D.B. Cooper ;)
  
  
• I imagine Loki's office closely resembles this:

• In one scene, the two mysterious men were speaking Norwegian.
  

  Ja - Yes

  Kjenner du oversettelsen? - Do you know the translation?

  Nei - No

  Vi er nær å finne det - We're close to finding it

• I imagine Aaron to look like Colten Haynes.

• And Shane to look like Evan Peters.

• Canon-wise, I am confused of the MCU-timeline. According to the timeline, the Battle of Culver University happened at the same time New Mexico happened. How did Selvig know about this information? So I pretty much changed a bit of the timeline to a year apart between the two events.
  
  
• Yes, there are some spy elements, a bit of crime thriller (I’ll blame that on the Loki TV series even though it hasn’t been premiered yet), The Night Manager elements (now THAT’s Tom Hiddleston’s fault), Dan Brown’s works, and Agents of SHIELD. I swear I had a notebook when I watched 3 seasons of that show, yet I lost it. If you squint, you might recognize some lines that came from AoS S01, Episode 1. Overall, the story will mainly focus on Loki’s identity crisis than the spy stuff.
  
  
• I didn't want to use Original Characters (OCs)  because I want familiar Marvel characters unless it is relevant to the plot, so I ended up using Agent Sharon Carter (Agent 13).
  
  
• This is the closest I can find that looks like Aaron’s research facility.   

• Where Sharon, Loki, and Aaron’s apartment look like on the outside:

• I imagine Loki and Aaron’s apartment inside to look something like this:

• To me, Loki looks like this nowadays. He’s SO precious huhuhu. I love you Tom Hiddleston:

Chapter Text

Falling

…

Culver University – Part 2

…

“There was nothing inside,
The memories left abandoned
There was nowhere to hide,
The ashes fell like snow
And the ground caved in,
Between where we were standing
And your voice was all I heard,
That I get what I deserved.

-New Divide by Linkin Park

…

January 4 2012, 2:14pm

Jack Monroe rolled up the sleeves of his black turtleneck. The shadows of the trees eased his tense muscles as he stood across the disaster in front of him, using the roof shed as cover. The itch in his eyes was irritating him as if the burnt smoke burned his eyes, even though he's a few distances away from the scene, drowning the sounds of firetrucks sirens speeding off several kilometers away.

The sound of cries and screams.

The glass ceiling breaks that made the fire burst through the roof.

He peered down the group of people arriving. There was a blonde woman on the ground that had held his attention, which he couldn't get a clear sight in this distance but she held a distant familiarity. She wasn't ordinary, for she sprinted into the scene before the explosion happened, probably one of those government agents sent after him, no doubt. She was too distracted by whoever she was speaking to in her comms.

The men hiding in the shadows, Jack noted, took note of the scene. No guns or weapons, but he learned better that doesn't make them less dangerous than it seemed. They were good at blending at daylight, but Jack knew better. Their long shadow cast over one of the building walls and another shadow was hiding under the bridge. So the third one must be in plain sight, which Jack couldn't find with a crowd watching the fire burning the facility.

The first shadow took off, followed by the second.

Perfect.

Jack used the rooftops to pursue both men. He melted into the cover of the shadows and used his lean body to maneuver around the obstacles quickly. Confident and controlled, he skillfully leaped across each rooftop and then landed on his feet with an expert barrel roll, shifting his center of gravity to his shoulder and pulled into a stand.

He was prepared to run to the next ledge but froze near the edge. The hairs of the back of the neck rose, his instincts screaming at him.

Trusting his instincts, he instantly dropped into a crouch, applying more pressure to his heel, and nimbly lifted his legs to cover more ground and reduce the sound of his steps, even if it seemed unlikely.

When he neared the ledge, Jack craned his neck over and looked down.

He smirked.

Bingo.

…

No one spotted Lucas as he masterfully used his stealth to the best of his ability. Getting out of this building? Easy. Avoiding the mortals? It was a child's play. He ignored the sounds of sirens bursting in his advanced hearing no matter how far his footsteps he had taken away from the site.

Even if he got stopped over by one of those "firemen", he didn't doubt he can talk his way out of that before they are obligated to send him to a healer's wings. Their healers would be alarmed at his physiology.

With a quick look behind him, he quickly crouched behind the bush as one of the few spectators moved past him.

After fleeting his gaze around the area, he safely moved to the alley. It smelled foul, but Lucas couldn't really complain. His priority right now was to flee from the eyes.

He can't take the risk of attention, even if it was no fault of his.

But that doesn't mean he can rest.

Before he can step further out of the alley, he caught a shadow looming above him.

Without a thought, he sidestepped his assailant. Lucas' eyes narrowed further, taking a second time to observe his opponent. Not a mugger for sure.

His dark brown eyes swept him before he started throwing punches.

But Lucas had centuries of training. His reflexes kicking in as he jerked to the left when one punched right. But he underestimated him as his assailant used his right leg to wrap around his waist. With the right controlled momentum, his assailant twisted around him, blocking Lucas' swipes despite the mortal's feeble strength.

So Lucas wasted no time by doing a roll, bringing the mortal down with him. His heel quickly came into the contact of the mortal's jaw, who cried out in pain.

The mortal tried to wrap his leg, but Lucas just used his other leg for a flawless hook kick that sent the mortal flying against the wall.

Then the sounds of sirens seemed to be coming closer in his direction.

Lucas gritted her teeth, his blood almost ringing in delight at the sight of the mortal looking so pathetically weak by his hand. It's been a very long while since he had engaged in this manner. As much as he wanted to question this man, he's not sure he wanted to risk THAT much attention. There were no dumpsters to hide the two. And with the state of this mortal, since he didn't seem to be carrying a weapon, using the mugger story for the police wouldn't work.

With seconds left, Lucas just slammed the mortal's head against the wall, knocking him unconscious. And then he quickly left the scene, just as the sounds of sirens stopped.

…

Sharon gritted her teeth and exhaled sharply. Guilt eating her as she watched the awaiting paramedics. Firefighters climbed inside the burning building once the fire was slowly dealt with.

Agent Coulson had told her to stay put in the scene and keep her eyes around her. She couldn't detect the hostiles he mentioned earlier, and when she tried to ask Coulson, he said they had left, but HQ would be keeping an eye on them since he was heading on his way there.

This shouldn't happen.

…

Jemma Simmons stared at the charred remains of the laboratory facility with fascination. Even though she was a biochemist, completely different from Hewitt's Geological Science and Engineering, she can appreciate his work from what she heard of Fitz's babbles, who apparently was star-struck when he heard their assignment meant they might cross paths with the famous Hewitt.

But…

Staring at the charred body of Aaron Hewitt, Jemma could only sigh as Fitz started ranting about how much potential Aaron could have brought to the world. The only reason they manage to identify this one, despite its damaged look, was that some of his clothing was familiar to Agent 13 enough. His ID also helped as a final confirmation, which had the Agent cursing to herself outside the lab while Agent Coulson, her field supervisor, remained outside observing.

"This is unfair!" Fitz pouted. "I mean; this guy gets killed just by some sabotage!"

"So, this explosion was a sabotage?" Jemma heard Agent May spoke up, who stared at the scene passively. "Was it meant for him?"

Jemma didn't want to admit that Agent May reminded her professor in Ionic Equilibrium class back at SHIELD Academy, who intimidated the hell out of her. It was a good thing that she wouldn't be seeing her professor for the next two weeks, at least, assuming she and Fitz finished this required practicum field within that time span.

She pulled those thoughts away when she noted the body's texture upon closer look.

"I wouldn't be surprised they used Ammonium Nitrate based explosives," Jemma said thoughtfully. That answered their question. "Look at his skin, you would have thought he died from the burns, but it was the gas that killed him first."

"Gas?" Agent May inquired.

"Ladies," Fitz called out. The two women looked behind and saw Fitz holding a tablet. A familiar whirring sound had Jemma chuckled in fondness, watching their quad-copter robotic little drone, DWARF, examining the scene.

She and Fitz shared a small grin, almost recalling their fond memories of their science experiment together. The drone emitted a laser grid to map the room.

"Best project in Holographic Engineering," Fitz said, almost cheerfully. As if he has completely forgotten that he had ranted about Aaron's passing.

Jemma noticed Agent May's look and explained, "See, we designed each with their own capabilities, so, um, some recording the dimensions and texture of the rooms and then some are testing the matter density, radiation. I mean, one is basically just smelling."

"Ladies!" Fitz called out again, who was looking down at his tablet with a frown on his face, "Whoa, whoa, whoa. I've got something in something. Surveillance cameras."

"I thought they were deep fried and even if there is a backup system, it would be hard to crack it down with Hewitt's system." Agent May said.

Jemma nearly groaned when she saw the delighted look on her friend's face, so she just took the tablet away from him.

"Well, I'm a genius." Fitz remarked, "It would take a while but I could sync that data from the motion detectors and, with a little luck, get some images from before the blast. And by luck, I mean unappreciated genius."

Jemma just ignored those two as she moved closer to the center console, detecting the emit of radiation, mild enough at least for them to handle. "What kind of geological engineer would need fusion energy for?" she wondered.

"And what is fusion energy for?" Agent May asked.

"Unless Aaron was studying the plate tectonics or environmentalist matters like environment and safety protection systems," Fitz said. "IFE?"

A possibility, Jemma thought. "But why would Monroe be interested in this?"

"Maybe it wasn't about the project," Agent May said grimly.

…

He stood motionless, deprived of orientation.

Now he loathed the dark.

Willing himself into a calmer state, Lucas sat to attention on what felt like a horseback ride and strove all his might to make an order of his life till now, the last tidying before he died: the choices he made to benefit himself, the improvements he had wrought upon his lie, these mortals who plucked him into their lives with no ulterior motive.

One of the few, Aaron, was dead. Aaron had seen him when he was drenched in the pouring rain on the streets. Lucas shivered. Looking at himself how he might, he saw nothing but half-measures, failures, and undignified withdrawals, and Aaron was the monument to all of them. At that time, Lucas had endured to this realm day and night, unsure how to blend in with the mortals. With Aaron's promising words, he began to cloak himself as Lucas Clark, a mortal who has a debt to the man who he once considered a friend.

As a friend, roommate, colleague, and anthropologist, his record was quite as thin; sometimes with a burst of lapses, followed by years of indifference.

It dawned on him that his life had consisted of a run of rehearsals for a play that he failed to take part in. Refuse to take part in. Lucas was nothing more but a selfish man. He had told himself that he has no longer fallen to his role as chaos; his morbid quest was for order as long as it was his. It felt like a substitute for happiness.

He was Lucas.

He wanted to succeed.

He wanted to be more than the Norns weaved for him.

Lucas' thoughts were pulled away into the present when he heard "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST MAN!" from Shane, who had his chest clutched, eyes wide. What does Midgardians' Christianity have to do with this situation? Lucas did not know.

"It's not my fault you lack the attention-span," Lucas said dryly.

"Hmmm," Shane shook his head as he shut the door. But underneath the tone, Lucas can detect relief in his tone, if he was not mistaken. "To think the coffee break saved my life."

Then he paused and said quietly, "I saw what happened…He was the best of us, you know."

Lucas did not need the implications to be said. The downfall of humanity for their short life span. To him, it was a blink of an eye. And he was only one of the few. Nothing more.

Perhaps what bothered him was even though their Midgardian lives were inevitable, he wasn't prepared to face this day now. And him, of all people...

There was no point in dwelling.

Lucas was used to it. He was a thousand years old. How could he not encounter death?

It's only a heartbeat.

With practiced apathy, Lucas can move past that. It was short, tedious, but inevitable. This was nothing compared to years of pain and betrayal. His past experiences taught him to control these thought processes, to keep it from being wrenched from these emotional responses. It's a visceral and appalling notion.

Sentiments were what killed him.

That was the hard lesson Lucas learned long ago. Self-pity and angst weren't what he needed.

His regret was that he never got a chance to repay that debt.

He swallowed. "What went wrong?"

"They were saying it was an accident, according to those men in black," Shane said, who joined him right across the table. "But…I know it can't be. I checked everything, Lucas. The testing phase shouldn't have gone like that, not with those settings we set. That kind of raw energy is not enough to set the whole building in fire."

It answered Lucas' suspicion. Shane was intelligent and arrogant. It meant that he was less likely to be wrong in this, not if he was so sure. It was sabotage.

"Those men in black…" He began. Shane sent him a questioning look. "You said that. Firefighters and 'doctors', I can understand in that incident, but what do those men in black have to gain in that scene?" He thought back to the mortal he left in the alley, targeted him specifically.

Why?

There was no doubt the intention of the sabotage meant. Lucas wouldn't really mean a difference if their target was Hewitt, considering that Lucas wasn't directly involved in the project. Competition, maybe? But it was top secret, purely funded from Hewitt's saving and not related to his family company. This narrowed his suspicions.

Unless Aaron wasn't the target…

That was a small possibility, one that had his heart clench. But Lucas reminded himself firmly no one would take a second look at him beyond the superficial records.

These mortals wouldn't, couldn't, know his past. Lucas Clark was what he chose to be. Who he chose to be. It may start out as a fabrication, but it was more than truth. It's a fact in his life now.

He was more than the fabricated lie.

His scowl smoothed over, hiding the number of breaths from Shane. He can't afford to show weakness.

"I think," Shane's voice interrupted his thoughts. "They know something fishy going on about this. This ain't an accident, we know that, Lucas."

"Have they talked to you?" Lucas tried to hide the alarmed look on his face.

"Well, one of them briefly. She looks familiar, now that I think about it." Then he paused, the kind that had Lucas on edge, "How did you escape from the paramedics? Even if you don't have any…fatal injuries, you would have been questioned like I did."

Lucas grimaced. He did not want to explain his enhanced healing abilities. But Shane was observant, especially with the burnt clothing discarded in the corner. Lucas had borrowed one of Shane's clothing while waiting. "I wasn't in the room when that happened."

"What happened?" Shane narrowed his eyes. Oh, Lucas was familiar with this routine that almost made him smirk. But it's not really the time and he needed to shut down this inquiry.

"Bathroom," Lucas lied. The story he weaved should explain his reasons, hopefully. He knew mortals were fragile, but he wasn't sure how much they could sustain and not when he placed himself in the bathroom, which was right near the building entrance and the furthest away from the laboratory. "The blast took me outside the building. I was probably by the ambulance when they were questioning you."

"Hmmm."

Lucas can almost detect the suspicion in Shane's tone. Either because of his story, or Shane found it odd of Lucas' peculiar timing before the blast. This should irritate or amuse him, but it just left Lucas indifferent. It's not as if he cared about Shane's judgment of him in this.

"And you're here because?"

"Your place is near," Lucas was all he had to say. Convenience. He wasn't going to mention someone was attempting to assassinate him. "I need your laptop."

Shane handed it to him. "Why? You didn't want to be involved, remember?"

"I have more important things at that time. And Interstellar travel?" Why would he when he can walk through the hidden paths?

"It's more complex than that. Aaron figured out dimensional travel."

Lucas frowned, not seeing the difference in that context.

"Travelling from different planes of existence or travel across various forms of realities, Lucas. Give it a few years and Aaron might have figured out time travel."

Lucas blinked in surprise, unsure how to react to the human's rapid progress. Perhaps he underestimated Aaron after all. "I'm starting to see a reason why this happened."

Shane suddenly gasped. "Oh. This is a secret government trying to shut us down. The conspiracy was RIGHT!"

"I'm sorry?"

"There was a conspiracy theory, the Montauk Project, where the United States government/military experiments in fields such as time travel, teleportation, mind control, contact with alien life. What is this, UNIT?"

Somehow, he doubted humans were capable of that yet. But this was Shane. It was…rather odd of him to mention because Lucas didn't think Shane cared about this. But what did Lucas know about the weight of information if he were to believe these conspiracies?

How do you separate your version of the truth from facts in that regard? Between the pathologizing analyses (in Midgardian standards) based on positivist presumptions regarding "truth" and naïve attempts to maintain epistemic neutrality? Don't they serve as a hegemonic device, delegitimizing alternative discourses based on Lucas' understanding of Anthropology?

Knowing a lie was probably his specialty, Lucas grumbled. It's the truth that's hard to bare.

A concept that mortals always denied. It's baffling. Lucas can't really rely on Allspeak. Context was different in here. Social Norms. Histories. And different interpretations…Conspiracy theories were always surrounded by all manner of speculation and rumors.

He's not stupid to disregard it, though. Lucas had been reading up anything that was…alien to humans and have a better chance of puzzling it. He knew, in some way, the power of words can influence societies. It's naïve to even dismiss conspiracies as illusory and paranoia of human minds.

Oh Norns, he's getting a headache from this.

"Teleportation, mind control, and aliens?" Lucas said dryly. If you don't count Frost Giants waging war in your realm centuries ago, but you weren't exactly alive to tell the tale.

Shane only rolled his eyes. Typical, but Lucas couldn't help but feel a bit amused.

"The blueprints were destroyed," He muttered as he navigated through the 'file browser'. He still needed to get used to this Apple laptop, which Lucas found Windows much preferable alternative.

"And?"

"I can't take any chances."

And with that, he deleted every single hint of Aaron's work and involvement.

"Really?" Shane shot him an annoyed look, standing behind him now.

Lucas was not sure where his thoughts were going. But Aaron was the only mortal he can fully trust with this interstellar travel technology. If there was a chance that this sabotage intent was for the device, Lucas's full intention was to keep this away from the enemy.

You have no idea what you are dealing with, a dark voice whispered in Lucas' ear. Whoever did this ill will, they have no idea who Lucas really was.

Yet another part of him said he was relieved that there would be no device for these Midgardians to use. Perhaps they would have built it in a century, which left Lucas less chance of being found.

"I can't take any chances – Physical copies and anything else." He gave the mortal a hard look, who did not look pleased but nodded. Shane left the room while Lucas was left to contemplate his situation.

He didn't see these "men in black" when he fled from the scene, but perhaps he missed them or wasn't really paying attention as much as he thought when his main priority was to avoid the ones truly in charge of the scene.

Lucas noted at the pile of paper roasting in the fireplace. "Is that everything?"

"Sure, take away probably the first successful breakthrough of interstellar travel for an astrophysicist, why not?" Shane grumbled. Lucas narrowed his eyes.

"You seemed to be taking this decision rather well." Flat tone.

"Don't give me that look. I told Aaron this was a bad idea. Ughh," Shane threw himself on the couch. "This is all for the greater good, isn't it?"

But Lucas can tell Shane didn't truly believe it, judging by the conflicting look on his face. "What if I get killed next just for this, Lucas?"

Self-preservation, Lucas can believe that.

"—And I trust you."

Lucas blinked. Sometimes, he forgot they respect one another. If Aaron radiates that positive child-like energy, Shane was the calm force who puts his foot down on what matters. Ignoring the small warmth spread on his chest, he looked back at the laptop.

For sure, no one can access Aaron's laptop. Not with the "firewall" Aaron taught him months ago.

What did the sabotage mean? Lucas furiously tried to recall all those mutterings and babbles Aaron made about his work for these past few months. He's not foolish to think Aaron didn't have enemies, not with his upbringing and intelligence. There were multiple projects that he handled with discreet, but all in passing that Lucas held no interest much. Aaron's most recent project was what Lucas remembered the most, but maybe because the only reason he remembered was that the risk and attention the project can bring.

They had fought about the project when Aaron proposed his idea. Selfishly, Lucas was more concerned about the implications and attention these humans can bring. And if they were ready for this kind of power…

And Lucas wasn't proud that he did consider sabotaging the device. He can't really bring himself to harm Aaron, not with the debt, but he could have silenced him by other means.

In the end, Lucas just decided to keep an eye on it. But no direct involvement.

Sentiments were what killed him.

Now onto the physical copies Shane had destroyed, Lucas got up.

And that was when gunshots started raining down on them.

…

(Flashback)

Loki was walking down the golden halls with a determined pace.

He knew that Thor was busy because he was training to be a King which will come in a few moons.

It made Loki rather relieved since he knew he didn't want the responsibility of the throne, but the bitterness was still there lingering at the thought that not many people acknowledged him or even thought he was capable of the throne. Sure, Thor was the firstborn, and it's not like he was jealous of that specifically. He wondered if his father had ever thought of his second son capable of the throne…or probably that he didn't exist.

It made him wonder of his role once the throne passed over to his brother.

Loki bumped with the Warriors Three, who were muttering something that didn't hold his interest. He just strode past them, nearing his destination.

He can feel someone's eyes burned behind him, but he didn't know which of the Warriors Three. Perhaps it was because he had avoided them for a couple of weeks now, but it wasn't really a surprise to everyone that Loki preferred solitude by staying in the library.

This time, he wasn't going to the library.

He reached to the high part of the tower. Only one small window showed Loki a glimpse of his homeland. It was a good thing Thor wasn’t here. His brother had been unbearable after the announcement of his upcoming coronation. And Loki was briefly worried how his rash brother would handle the throne, since he didn’t possess particular qualifications and traits needed for diplomatic matters.

He sighed when the breeze brushed his face.

Finally, some peace.

He closed his eyes, using his seidr to expand the whole area, getting a feel for the room first. There were some risks, according to the scrolls and old books he had founded in the depths of the library. Technically dark magic. In this area, where he can find peace and not risk any interruption.

"—My Prince?"

Loki growled. Thor wasn't here to dare disrupt his peace and now this? How did they manage to find him? The messenger fidget under his glare.

"What is it?"

"The King summons you." The messenger said nervously. Probably he had heard of his reputation that had Loki internally grinning. "There has been a breach in the Vaults."

What? Loki stormed past the messenger and moved in the direction of the Vaults. How? It's impossible to breach into the Vaults and live to tell the tale with the Destroyer set there.

When he reached the entrance, the guards on stand-by salute and opened it for him.

Loki kept his face composed. It was uncommon for Father to summon him without Thor there, not that he was complaining. Unless Father discovered the troubles I hid. He grimaced. He didn’t want that incident found out.

With a mental catalog, the valuable golden treasures and artifacts were still there that the royal family had collected, even some that were terrifyingly dangerous. He rarely come to this area, but mostly because of that hushed, dampened feeling he can sense from these massive stone walls that were reinforced with layers upon layers of defensive seidr. Nothing amiss, except the burnt flesh of intruders near the Casket of Ancient Winters.

The clues begin to fall in around him when he saw the color of the flesh a hint of blue: Frost Giants.

"Father?" He called out.

"It seems the Frost Giants attempted to capture the Casket," His father said thoughtfully at the Casket. "I don't think they would have gotten here through the Bifrost."

"The Convergence wouldn't be here for another three years," Loki said. That meant the dimensional boundaries between the realms were thinner than he thought. Using his seidr, he can sense a small breach in-between the boundaries here. "You want me to examine the boundaries?"

He had explored some of the realms with the hidden paths, but Jotunheim?

Loki couldn't help but feel excited. Not just a chance to study this more without the worry of Heimdall watching his move, but also to prove Father what his second son was truly capable of.

"No."

And that sent his heart racing nervously. Because if that's not what Odin wanted from him, then what does he want?

Loki dutifully stayed quiet, sensing his father examining him before he reached out to clasp him firmly on the shoulder, as if he needed some firm assurance. Not that he was complaining at the rare physical touches Father has given him.

But then, something the way his father was looking at him made the uneasiness started in the pit of his stomach. In times like this, it was like father can pierce through his bare soul and vulnerability. Do you see me? Do you watch me as I watch you?

This silence hung between them like an endless moment. Father looked pensive now, as if internally debating something before he grimaced.

"I think it's time." His father finally spoke up.

It sounded like regret. Interesting. But time for what? Loki wondered, but something about that tone dreaded him.

"My son, there's something you must know."

Created: 7/24/2015
Finished: 1/22/2021

Chapter Text

Falling

…

Culver University – Part 3

…

"It Hurts, Doesn't It? Being Lied to; Being Told You're One Thing, And Then Learning It's All Fiction."

-Loki, Thor: Ragnarok

...

A mortal would have not noticed the sound of those primitive weapons firing. But luckily, Lucas Clark wasn’t like them, even though the legal paper says otherwise.

He caught the sound of a high whistle and the crack of breaking glass. In that split second, he kicked the table enough to prevent the bullets from landing on Shane, who had shrieked. Fortunately, his friend had the sense to duck while Lucas quickly went behind a brick wall.

“FUCK!”

“Get out of here!” Lucas shouted. His ears picked up the sound of shoes scuffing the floor downstairs, and he internally cursed before he moved to the kitchen, ducking from the bullets before grabbing all the knives he can carry. “Shane, stop!”

But Shane opened the door and too late, a few of those men were already within view. Lucas snatched him away from the rain of bullets and dragged him behind the cover. Broken picture frames sounded above his head, vibrations ricocheting through the walls near his head.

This was preferable because Lucas could fight in close quarters

One of the men surged in his direction, gun aiming for his chest. Lucas moved forward, knowing they would not expect that move, snatched their forearm, and twisted it, forcing the shot into the ceiling. The man gasped in pain at the inhuman strength he carried. He snatched the gun, almost bending the object, and deliver an elbow to the face that knocked the mortal out.

His companion moved to help, but Lucas quickly disarmed him by throwing a knife into his wrist, then took a hold of his arm and forced him as a shield against the other men. Using the mortal’s shoulder, Lucas delivered a round kick that knocked few of their guns, and landed on another mortal’s shoulder and stabbed the knife deep into his throat. He spun away from the incoming bullets, and expertly jabbed the other knife into the fourth man’s guts.

The man grunted and Lucas smirked at the sight of the mortal’s rage rising.

Another mortal dared to body slam him, but Lucas only wrapped his arm around the mortal’s neck and used the wall as momentum to twist his body, forcing the mortal knocked to the ground. There was something satisfying at the sound of a squelching pop, no doubt breaking their bones easily.

When one man left slowly picked himself up, Lucas lunged towards Shane and dragged him outside.

“Is there a backdoor to this place?” Lucas shouted.

“The garage. I have a motorcycle there.” Shane’s voice shook, the sound of bullets was still ongoing as they quickly ran down the stairs and headed toward the back.

“I’m driving then.”

“WHAT?”

“Keys. Now.” Lucas demanded as he slammed the door open with his shoulder. Shane only hesitantly give him the keys, tearing his gaze away as if he couldn’t stand the sight of him while Lucas marched towards the only motorcycle. His lips curled, almost amused at the kind of quality Shane had picked.

“What are you standing there for? Open the door and get in!”

Shane only sent him a dirty look before following his order. “You sure you know what to do?” It almost sounded bitter, as if he blamed him for this.

“I know better,” Lucas growled before he lifted his foot back onto the bike. And then he switched the gear, letting go of both brakes, and he pulled back on the right throttle and they tore off.

Shane gripped his shoulders tightly. “I’m not happy, just so you know.”

Lucas just drove the bike in the opposite direction from their assailants, heading toward the other end of the short alley whilst twisting slightly between the tight spaces of the mortals’ moving vehicles.

Boom!

Damn it, Lucas inwardly cursed as he twisted his head over his shoulder. There was one man leaning over the steel railing, his gun pointed at them. There’s another sniper on the roof just above them, which Lucas managed to avoid.

Shane started cursing, which was almost breaking Lucas’ concentration on his field.

“Great, I’m going to die!” Shane moaned.

“Shut up!” Maybe he should have let Shane drive, but he arrogantly thought he can maneuver them into a position where they can lose them. If he hadn’t, then he could theoretically throw the knives at them, but Lucas wasn’t sure how many men were after them.

When they reached the end of the alley, he took a very sharp left.

“How many?!” Lucas yelled as he griped over the sound of the engine and managed to avoid an oncoming truck.

“Um…Maybe four or five. I DON’T KNOW—”

Boom!

“—JESUS CHRIST!”

“What’s happening?” Lucas snapped. Gunshots were taking a bit off his focus as the wind rushed over his face.

“They’re…one is doing parkour across the roofs, that’s...” Shane sounded speechless, which had Lucas inwardly groaning.

“Persistent mortals,” He growled under his breath. When they reached the end of the street, he jerked the bike to the left.

“OH FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! He’s spinning around and flipping down one of those apartments,” Shane breathed.

Curious, Lucas glanced behind. Their assailant was moving between the gaps in the apartments with great leaps between both walls. And then he did a roll onto the ground before he sprinted towards one of the mortal’s motorcycles that were parked near them.

They want a chase. I can give them a chase, Lucas thought. He has the advantage of knowing these streets better after years of living here. He shot his eyes glaringly around, making mental assessments. He needed to cut down at least 3 of the men before he can safely move them into hiding since they might have communication devices to update one another.

They can’t go with the busy streets; it would be difficult to blend in with their state even if Lucas abandon the bike.

There was a shady part of this area, which would give Lucas free rein to knock some of the men off without any worry of collateral damage, especially the civilians. The con of the situation though was that it meant they have a clear shot.

“How did they know where to find us? We deleted everything!” Shane cried. Another gunshot rang that had the mortal gripping him around the waist, “Oh Christ, we’re going to die.”

“Not if I have any say about that,” Lucas growled. They had come into his life, destroying a semblance of his life that they had built. Whatever fight they want, then they would have it. Any control Lucas had left in fear of being found now left when it was clear their lives were at risk. He wrapped his fingers anxiously over the handlebar as the air blew his tidied hair, giving away his curls no doubt.

“What have we got ourselves into?” Shane yelled.

Lucas only just swerved out of the incoming car.

“DAMN IT LUCAS!”

“I got a plan,” Lucas called over the wind.

“Which is?”

“Well this is going to irritate you but blood would be involved.”

“Oh, Christ.” Lucas didn’t need to look back to know his friend’s face was green.

“There’s a knife in my sleeve. If they come close, I want you to stab it on the wheels. Defend us if possible.” It was a stretch to hand that task to Shane, but Lucas had no choice as Shane shakenly searched for his sleeves for the knife. 

He felt the motorcycle jerking tightly through several more vehicles showing up at the end of the street which had Lucas gritting his teeth before moving to the left, nearly clipping a car.

Gunshots rang again and Lucas felt Shane jump.

“He’s behind us!”

He can see that with the side mirror.

Turning the bike sharply to the left when the street ended, Lucas snarled. When the slope went upward, he pulled the left throttle and switched the gear quickly into a second before tearing up the incline. This area had more moderate morning traffic, and as Lucas pulled back on the right throttle more fervently, he and Shane moved further away from the busy parts and into relatively safer districts.

Lucas drove like war was coming for him. It was a rush compared to galloping through the battlefield. His adrenaline was high as the wind rushed over them, but he had more control over his ride than his horse. More speed and he wondered briefly when was the last time he had this kind of free experience when it was not paperwork.

A loud screech of tires was heard down behind them. There was a flash of their assailants zipping through several cars with motorcycles when Lucas glanced in the mirror.

Three more of them now. Lucas frowned as he moved sharply to the right to avoid gunshots, ignoring drivers angrily honking at the unfairness.

This…

Boom!

Lucas only raised an eyebrow when a gunshot hit the screen of the car in front of them rather than at hysterical Shane. So he pulled an 87-degree merge into the second lane before following with a sharp twist onto a partially empty sidewalk. The horns and traffic brakes went off in a frenzy.

Shane yelped as they went over the curb with a loud bang and they were whizzing down the side street. Lucas sped way ahead now of the traffic, now they have control over how to step up their game against their assailants now.

He clenched his teeth behind his closed jaw as he kept his control as unpredictable as possible to avoid a behind shot.

“INCOMING CITIZEN!”

Without a thought, Lucas jerked to the right swiftly into the sidewalk, avoiding an innocent bystander. Oh for the love of Norns. He revved the engine and drove it up as gunshots continued to fly past them in loud bangs the truck with a ramp leveled against its trunk in front of them had Shane cursing.

When they landed on the roof of a parked car, Lucas rode down the front of its shield and merged into the road. By the next red light they got, he turned right at its corner and tore down a new slope.

“Well done, Shane!” Lucas yelled over the winds. The Midgardian sun was hot against their backs as he squeezed the right-hand brake.

“I was frozen! Give me a goddamn break!”

Boom!

They slow down the front wheel as the slope grew more narrow.

Lucas mentally mapped out the area. They might need to move over the main overpass that would drive them west across the main downtown district, at least near its lakes. 

Down far ahead was the downtown area, stretched out across the western horizon of West Virginia. To his left, another road began to start and make a ramp that lead to the higher platforms of this area. He could take the one underneath to reach the highway entrance.

“LOOK OUT!”

Lucas took an instinctive turn to the right. A crack of bullets hit the window of the car that they passed by. A small glance from the mirror showed one of the assailants driving up the ramp before he turned the vehicle slightly and crashed it through a barrier and fell over the ledge behind them.

The reminder of his companion’s tight grip on his waist had Lucas squeeze the motorcycle into the left lane and hid them behind a giant bus. Shane jumped in his seat when bullets were heard hitting the bus rather than them.

Lucas eyed the highway carefully, almost as if he couldn’t care less about the bullets hitting them while Shane looked ready to throttle him to death. The highway was too risky and would get a clean shot at the wheels or his companion, depriving him of escape.

Gritting his teeth at the sound of a loud boom on the other side of the bus, hating the fact this situation sounded more like a liability, otherwise, he could have lost them ages ago.

“What do we do, Lucas?” Shane breathed, almost eyes wide.

If they were smart enough, they should know better than to drive close to them otherwise Lucas would just either knife the tire or knock them out of their seat. With only a few second before the assailant got a perfect view of them, Lucas pulled the throttle and just moved forward and maneuvered to the other side of the bus, just as the assailant moved to where they were earlier.

Lucas slow down to get behind the bus again and pulled out another knife. His eyes narrowed as the assailant looked around, confused about their whereabouts. He expertly threw the knife into the assailant’s neck.

“Wohoo!” Shane cheered as the mortal lost his grip from the sudden bleeding in his neck.

Lucas only ignored him as he weaved in and out from the moving vehicles. They might expect them to pass by the highway’s entrance ramp, but with a glance at the fuel meter, he knew they would have caught onto them in no time. He knew from the sounds of it, they don’t have full sight of them, but it’s not exactly hard to miss a full-speed motorcycle in this traffic.

“We need to hide, don’t we?” Shane yelled over the roaring wind.

Lucas shot a disdainful look as if it was obvious.

He expertly steered, and narrowly wove between a few vehicles and trucks in front of them.

One glance at the mirror and Lucas spot a few of the assailants weaving with their transportation through the traffic but since they were entering into a wide road usually meant for a multi-wheeled truck. An area that consists mostly of shipping and manufacturing, predominantly filled with delivery trucks, their motorcycles traveling at high speeds would take a few seconds before they caught up with them.

Lucas quickly accelerated, darting forward as a small opening came up between the two trucks, but their assailants easily kept pace. Another darted ahead of him and looked like they wanted to ram them, but Lucas was able to wrest back the bike under control by pulling up, hitting the brakes, and making a sharp left, leaving the ones behind him crashing into one of their allies.

“B-but, w-what the…” Shane stuttered, sounding flabbergasted as they moved into another narrow gap. His heart pounding heavily from being forced to lean sideways to accommodate the move.

“I’m trying to get us out here alive!”

“And I appreciate it,” he nervously chuckled. “Just didn’t expect the moves. Didn’t think you had it in ya.”

Lucas just gritted his teeth as they nearly got sideswiped in the merging lanes.

The sound of the tires skidding as they came across the breakdown lane, escaping the urban area. They bumped into another assailant, but one kick had them crashing down the road incapacitated. He can almost sense Shane gaping behind him, once again as he pulled the motorcycle back onto the asphalt.

“Is that the last one?” Lucas yelled.

“Um….well, I see one more left.” Shane hesitantly replied.

Lucas was getting visibly frustrated and desperate at this point judging by the fuel meter. They were getting closer to the overpass and it seemed like there was a checkpoint station ahead.

Boom!

He took a quick swerved to avoid enemy fire as Shane screamed.

“Why!” his friend moaned. “Why is this happening to me?”

“SHUT UP! YOU ARE NOT HELPING HERE!” Lucas shouted as they neared the midpoint of the bridge.

“Oh fuck, Lucas…” There’s fear in the voice now.

“Just hold on tight!”

“But we’re not stopping!”

No. They were not.

Without slowing down as they were about to reach the checkpoint, Lucas caught a glimpse of their assailant having a direct shot. At the last second, he hopped the motorcycle over the fence of the bridge. They sailed through the air as the round of bullets missed them over their shoulders.

“EEEEEEEEP!”

Lucas leaned forward to force themselves to land on the roof of the delivery truck as Shane’s grip on him tightened, nearly knocking them off their seats. But he pushed through as he darted the bike down the truck screen, leaving broken glass and tire marks behind.

“The hell?” One of the drivers said.

“Is he still there?” Lucas shouted over his shoulder, eyeing the oncoming traffic ahead of him.

“No, he’s just…watching us.” Shane shakenly said.

Lucas nodded.

“What the fuck, man?”

He didn’t answer as they eventually had to go through the underpass.

…

“Sir, we lost target.”

“Hmmm. Keep the eye on them. We’ll catch them by cams.”

…

Lucas made the choice not to take the one side road he’d come across or either of the two driveway entrances that had zipped by on his left, figuring the assassins would not have a backup in that direction since they didn’t expect a pursuit, maybe before finally settling in over a dark alley that they had passed by before, merging into the shadows.

He mentally assessed whether or not they should be separated if this chase kept on, and Shane was the only reason why he has been forced to limit his abilities. He looked at his friend, only to find him pale and green as if he wanted to vomit.

“Please do not vomit.” Lucas grimaced.

Shane’s head snapped towards him as if he was the insane one there. “Are you fucking with me?”

“No. I am not ‘fucking’ with you.” Lucas deadpanned.

Shane only shook his head, looking almost hysterical. “Yeah, an explosion happened, we’ve nearly died by some assassins, out chased them with my bike, and we’re here.” He laughed. “You should have all listened to my theories! I TOLD YOU THE GOVERNMENT IS OUT TO GET US!”

With his ‘conspiracies’? Lucas thought. Then he frowned when he caught the sight of blood on Shane’s pants. “You’re bleeding?”

The idiot seemed to only just notice, and with only a confused “Oh?”, he immediately collapsed with Lucas scrambling to catch him.

“You’re losing a lot of blood,” Lucas noted. Of course, their fragility.

“Geez, thanks!” Shane gave him a sarcastic grin. “I haven’t noticed!”

“Well, you didn’t.” He murmured as he tore a piece of clothing from Shane’s shirt, putting pressure on the wound. “The bullet didn’t escape?”

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock!”

With great patience, Lucas could only press it deeper, resulting in Shane cursing in his ears. He could see that Shane was nearly ready to be knocked unconscious. “Don’t sleep!” he snapped.

“So, what’s the plan?” Shane drowsily said.

“You have somewhere you can hide after the hospital, right?”

“Yeah.”

“We should split up.”

“But Lucas…” Shane murmured, his hand reaching out to him. But Lucas only pushed it away.

“It’s for the best of us.”

“B-but I don’t think…” He closed his eyes. Lucas shook him, but no amount of shaking or shouting could keep Shane awake.

Lucas picked up the unconscious Shane and placed him in the corner of the room where his head could rest. He brushed his finger over his friend’s forehead, bringing a cold sensation over him before moving his finger down the hairline. His mind brushed Shane’s, slowly catching glimpse of the memory that happened today. Shane shivered but stayed unconscious. Lucas sighed, feeling slight pity for the man who was going to wake up confused with no answer to his question, but it was better this way. He already made a call for an ambulance, and with no memory, it would keep Shane safe.

This was the least he can do before he left.

“Goodbye, Shane…” he whispered before he disappeared, leaving the life he created behind him.

…

Agent Phil Coulson studied the scene with calm detachment. He noted the few traffic cams that caught probably Monroe’s men after the two friends of Aaron’s. It had taken a while to convince the WVPD that they would handle this matter and drop charges of speeding and in violation of traffic safety.

When he heard footsteps behind him, Coulson turned his head and spoke quietly to Carter as she paused in the doorway. “He’s eliminating every associate.”

“I didn’t think Lucas had it in him to drive like that,” Sharon noted in surprise.

“I’m not. Only desperate ones would.” He shook his head. Especially when cornered. “What have you got? You captured all of them?”

“Except one,” She made her displeasure known. Monroe. “They’re not willing to talk.”

“They’re just goons, following orders. Let the public defender handle this.”

“What I still don’t get is why the sabotage? I thought Monroe was interested in the project. And now he wants to kill two of them? There’s no connection anyway for Shane and Lucas.”

Coulson had an idea why though.

“Monroe is not stupid.

“Sir, Aaron’s father is calling?”

Sharon cursed, as if the idea of talking to Nard Hewitt was hell for her. Coulson couldn’t blame her, he had enough billionaires to deal with. Amused, he said, “He’s still demanding who’s responsible?”

“How the hell did he figure out SHIELD is investigating this?”

“It’s Mr. Hewitt,” he shrugged. “Now have you located our two lovely friends?”

…

Lucas crept silently through the storage facility with no internal lights except for the faint Midgardian sun shining through the windows up the ceiling. Bare, grey walls and cold concrete floor.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Clark.” A voice spoke up. “My name is Jasper Sitwell. And I’m here to alleviate your guilt.”

Lucas raised his eyebrow. Guilt? Of course, these species believed that his guiding principle and emotion would be guilt after these particular circumstances. As if. But that’s the façade Lucas chose to wear. He was an unknown variable in their schemes. 

“You had a perfectly normal life. You are on the way to a once-in-a-lifetime expedition, so I heard. A few were selected and you were one of them. If it weren’t for SHIELD, your friend Aaron would still be alive today.”

His eyes narrowed. So that’s the outline they were going with. As if he would be swayed by sentiments. He was entertaining his options to simply kill him. But his interest slightly peaked at the offer, carefully schooling his features.

Sentiments bring inconsistency in decisions. It was a gamble only humans would make. But predictable.

 “—I’m sorry. Now, God knows how you bare it, and I-I don’t think I could.” His focus returned to the present.

Do you think you can fool me with your sympathies? Lucas almost replied. But his guard was up, so he gave the man a blank look and said, “How so?”

“Listen, I’m on your side. We play it straight and we keep our promises, okay? But I need your help.”

A price. They need him more than he needs them. What was so promising that they would risk it?

 “What exactly can I offer you when I have no clue as to why these men were after me?”

“It’s what your deceased friend can bring. Or nearly brought.” The mortal offered. “You are the only survivor after the explosion and closest association to Mr. Hewitt.” They believed Shane to be dead? “If anyone can bring back the project, it would be you. Besides, I have heard you happen to be his roommate.”

“You want his blueprints?” Lucas nearly scoffed. Him? He wasn’t even technically part of the project, more as a consultant. But they did not know that. The closest maybe was Shane, but they did not need to know that.

“No, I am pointing out the risks SHIELD is willing to bring…especially when it comes to otherworldly matters.”

Lucas froze at the implications.

Not sure if the mortal was hinting at what he thought. Did they know? Did they suspect what he was? They couldn’t. Lucas made sure of that. It implied a lot of things, and Lucas couldn’t risk the chance of exposing that he was not one of them.

“Ah yes,” the mortal grinned. “What I am offering is not just revenge, Mr. Clark. What I am offering is access to information.”

“You’re gambling on the fact that I could bring the project into fruition, to your heart’s desire, but it is not my specialty nor would I even know to do so.” He tried to brush it off. “Otherworldly matters? Do you mean aliens? Is this a game to you?”

“I think you are an intelligent man to know that it is not a joking matter.”

It took Lucas a second to understand the mortal’s reasoning and the hidden threat behind it. As much as he wanted to believe that he can just disable the human and leave, something told him there was a move in play that could backfire on Lucas. The mortal was far too sure of himself, far too smug. This wasn’t simply arrogance nor overconfidence with the demands. It meant they have a plan to keep even Lucas contained.

“SHIELD is a bigger threat than you believe, Lucas. They have the resources. Who do you think has the manpower with what happened to your friend? And considering your expertise, I have no doubt that they would soon take an interest in you to the organization.”

Lucas eyed him. It wasn’t just greed the mortal was portraying. Surprisingly, it was fear hidden behind those lenses if Lucas knew what to look for. A fear so secret that seemed to follow this mortal to his grave as if it demanded his reckoning.

“Go on. I’m listening.”

Sitwell grinned, looking pleased.