SHIELD Headquarters, Washington, D.C.
August 2003
Natasha clenched her fists.
It was the last test before she could be operational for SHIELD. Before she could get back to doing what she did best. Before she could continue her search for her Soldier, this time with the considerable access and financial resources provided her by the most widespread intelligence agency the world had ever seen.
It helped that SHIELD, at least, was actively trying to help people. Unlike her old handlers.
"Strobe."
"Nineteen."
"Telephone."
"Recorded."
She controlled the flinches. Resisted the neural programming that roared up at the first syllable of "nineteen" and tried to take over, to wipe her away, to turn her into their weapon.
She was her own weapon now. Not SHEILD's, not anyone's.
"Citation."
"Silicon."
The urge was strong. She fought it, ignored it, as she'd been practicing for three years of SHIELD therapy. They couldn't use her until she was safe. She had to prove herself.
"Bookshelf."
"Grief."
"Ruble."
"Upholstered
I. Am. Natasha. Romanova.
"Soldier. Ready to comply?"
She stood in one fluid movement. "No."
"Soldier. Ready to comply."
The SHIELD psychologist looked caught between nervousness and relief. "No. I am Natasha Romanova, the Black Widow, and I've passed your test."
A voice crackled over the loudspeakers. "She's clean."
The psychologist looked up. "Sir-"
"I said , she's clean."
A door hissed open across the lab, and a tall man in an eye patch stalked through. He nodded sharply to Natasha, speaking now in person rather than through the microphone still clipped to his collar. "Agent Romanoff. Welcome to Shield."
She nodded once, accustomed by now to the Americanized version of her name. "Appreciated."
"Come with me. You'll be partnered with Agent Barton. He's waiting in the atrium."
Natasha followed her new handler out of the lab.
"Our bargain holds?" she asked.
He raised an eyebrow. "I'm not stupid enough to cross you."
She grinned. It still felt odd, but here, with these people… it was the first time since her Soldier that she had met anyone she even wanted to relax with.
Not completely. Slight relaxation. Enough to smile, on occasion.
"Just checking."
"Yes, you'll operate on my orders alone. Yes, you'll work by yourself or with Barton. Yes, we will disavow all knowledge of you if you're ever caught. Satisfied?"
"Yes." No. She didn't trust him. But that was because she didn't trust anyone.
They entered the atrium, which was less a proper atrium and more a dingy lobby with skylights - SHIELD liked to keep a low-profile. "Atrium" was more a joke than anything else.
Barton waited across the room, leaning on the wall and tapping away at his phone. He grinned when he saw them. "Passed your test, I see."
Natasha smiled tightly. "KGB brainwashing has been overridden. I am now operational."
"Congratulations."
The man had grown up a lot in the two years since they'd met. She knew he had done his fair share of operations while she'd been cooped up with the scientists, carefully picking apart the neural programming that had left her to the mercy, once, of anyone who knew the words. He seemed quieter, now, and older, as if his body had aged only half as much as his mind. But he still had a smile for her.
"Agents," Fury said, "here is your first assignment." He handed a manila folder to Barton. "Don't forget to burn it. You're my secret weapon, you two. Don't make me regret it."
Barton laughed. "Bet you didn't see this coming when you put her on the kill list, sir."
Fury raised his one visible eyebrow at the younger agent. "Let's just say it was no accident I sent a volatile young agent with a history of deviance after our friend the Widow here." He nodded at her and clapped a hand on Barton's shoulder. "Prove me right, Agents."
The tall man marched away, the ever-present black duster snapping around his calves.
"There's not even any wind," Barton complained. "How does he make that stupid coat do that?"
Natasha's lips twitched. "Even the fabric is afraid of him."
Bartons snorted. "Oh, look, you do have a sense of humor. Who would have guessed."
"Keep it up, Barton, and you'll see how funny I am."
He looked at her oddly. "Barton?"
Natasha blinked, and was instantly annoyed with herself; she knew Barton was sharp enough to pick up on the physical tell. She was getting sloppy. "It's your name."
"Nah." He grinned, arms out to the sides, manila folder dangling from his fingers as he walked backwards toward the front doors. "I'm Michael Jackson, remember?"
"You can't sing," she reminded him.
He waved a hand. "Semantics."
Natasha shook her head and pushed out the doors ahead of him, wondering how exactly this agent, more than forty years her junior, had managed to get past her defenses so easily.
Maybe it was because he trusted her.
She still couldn't figure out why he had decided to do so with such ease.
"Seriously, though. We're partners now. Call me Clint or this is going to be awkwardly formal."
"Is that a usual thing? Among SHIELD?"
"It's a usual thing for friends."
She glanced over. He hid his sudden insecurity well, but she played roles for a living. In comparison, he was still an amateur. "Is that what we are? Friends?"
"I sure hope so, or I'm going to be embarrassed," he muttered, and she knew that tactic too: deflection through flippancy.
"I've not had many friends," she admitted, and unbidden, a face shoved into her mind: cold eyes, brown hair, strong jaw. Her Soldier. The rage pulsed and howled against the years of barriers that held it down. She blinked and kept it shoved away. Locked up.
It was not a healthy psychological tactic, she knew that, but she didn't care.
Barton - Clint - smirked. "I figured. So are we friends?"
"I do not think I know how."
"That's okay, you'll sort it out."
She examined his trusting blue-gray eyes. Remembered, unbidden, how he had lowered his bow in that room in Budapest, and the stubbornness with which he had defended himself when he arrived back at the headquarters with a world-famous ex-KGB assassin in tow, and how he was willing to work with her and offer her this hand of companionship even after he'd seen her ledger and the red pouring from its pages.
"Friends, then," she said.
The smile that split his face was blinding.
Asgard
July 2009, Midgardian calendar
He stared up at his brother and his father and a thousand emotions boiled inside his mind until he thought he would explode.
"I could have done it, Father!" he screamed. "I could have done it for you! For all of us!"
If he could just make them understand . If he could just make them see that he'd been trying to fix the world so they would all see the truth as he did, see how they'd marginalized and disrespected him for centuries until even a prince of Asgard could be mocked by a servant. He had to make them see that he'd never meant for Thor to go to Jotunheim, or be exiled, or to die; he'd just adapted when his plans to prove himself a good son and a good ruler spiraled wildly out of control.
And then Loki had found out that he was a Jotun, and there was the other half of his turmoil. Betrayal; grief; loss; fear; shame; and all of it was overshadowed by a vast and unending rage.
It was the first time in centuries that he let all of this show on his face, the wild emotions mixing into a volatile cocktail of desperation.
"No, Loki," Odin said, as unmovable as Yggdrasil.
The false prince loosened his fingers.
Thor's scream followed Loki down into the abyss.
Deep Space
Not Long After
Loki didn't know how far he'd fallen, only that it had seemed an eternity compressed into a heartbeat then expanded to fill the universe. As if time ceased to be.
And now here he was, coughing up blood as he lay on his back on some barren rock in a corner of the universe, somewhere in the dark spaces between the realms, where even Asgard rarely ventured.
"Impressive. They really do make them strong on Asgard. Or should I say Jotunheim?" The words were accompanied by a cruel, gravelly laugh.
Loki forced himself to sit up, turn, and stand. His head spun. He wasn't dead - how in the Nine Realms had that happened?
But he was nothing if not good at improvising, and he was heir to two thrones. He would meet this twist in the Norns' design with dignity, as befitted a prince.
Or a king.
The creature who looked back at him was nothing Loki had ever seen. Humanoid, with pitted purplish skin and fiery, luminous eyes. It wasn't a good light, though. The gleam in the thing's irises as he peered out from behind an ornate gold helm was one of pure, undiluted madness.
"Give me your name," Loki demanded, drawing himself upright. His entire body was screaming but he ignored it. He'd definitely been in worse shape before in his immortal life, although he couldn't remember exactly when at the moment.
The creature snorted. "Look at the little princeling, thinking to give me orders."
"I am Loki Laufeyson of Jotunheim," Loki snarled, "heir to the thrones of both the Frost Giants and the Aesir. You will give me your name, and the respect owed to a king."
"Oh, the arrogance! How it betrays you, son of Laufey." The creature stood, and a dark, perverted power rolled through across the bitter surface of whatever odd half-realm they inhabited. It wasn't anything but an asteroid, really, and it spun: Loki could see the stars wheeling by in the distance, constellations unknown. Yet there was atmosphere, and gravity.
He'd read something about this phenomenon, once…
"I am Thanos." The creature descended from his floating throne and glared into Loki's eyes. "And I will give you no such courtesy. You see…"
He spun and threw out an arm as the asteroid's rotation slowly brought their surroundings into view.
Loki fought to keep his breath even. It was an army , of creatures such as he'd only hear of: the Chitauri, cannibalistic humanoids with a connected neural system, and it was massive.
"I also hold a throne," Thanos finished, sneering. That strange power surged, pulsed, and reached for the prince's mind.
Loki threw every scrap of his seidr into a barrier. He was one of the most powerful seidr masters in the Nine Realms; he could match this foul thing -
But he was weak from his battle with Thor, and from his fall through the worlds, and in the end, it was not enough.
New York
December 2010
Darcy had to admit that she wasn't a huge fan of Jane's extraterrestrial boyfriend.
Sure, he was cut, but she just could not get past the condescension. Oh, little mortals, let me protect you! I love Midgard! My brother sucks!
Blech.
So while she enjoyed checking out his shoulders and his butt, she couldn't exactly say she was sad to see him go.
Mostly she was just sad that Jane was sad, and that only made her want to exact a little revenge from the realm-ditching boyfriend.
"Jane. Hey. Hey . Enough working, come on, we're going out for sushi."
"No, I… this data… needs… process…" Jane said absently, and pinned another paper to a corkboard already covered with them.
"Jane. It's nine o'clock on a Friday night. The data will still be there tomorrow morning. We are going out for sushi or so help me God I am going to hack your computer and start closing windows."
Jane looked horrified. "No!"
Darcy looked at her phone. "I want it turned off in thirty seconds."
Jane's fingers flew with increased desperation, her keyboard rattling.
"Ten… nine… eight… seven…" Darcy tapped her own keyboard menacingly.
"Okay! Okay, I'm done!" Jane closed the laptop and powered off the network of computers that ringed her lab.
Darcy smirked. "Excellent."
She considered it a victory when Jane only shot one longing glance back at the lab before they climbed into the elevators.
Truth be told, Darcy was glad of the excuse to get out as well. They both had rooms in the brand-new energy-neutral Stark Tower; after Puente Antiguo, SHIELD had put Jane in contact with Tony Stark. He'd brought Jane on at Stark Industries since he was a SHIELD consultant as well, and boom, now Darcy, one-time political science major, was now an assistant to one of the world's most brilliant astrophysicists at one of the world's most valuable and successful tech companies in the world. She still couldn't figure out exactly how that had happened, but she liked it. The pay was good, the health benefits were better, and she got hazard pay whenever she had to drive Jane into a storm zone, which definitely hadn't happened in the internship days. Not to mention Tony Stark himself. The dude was old enough to be her father, but he snarked right back at Darcy on a regular basis, which was a nice change after a year working for a woman who definitely did not appreciate the nuances of sarcasm and witty comebacks.
So yeah, life was good. Darcy was getting off an elevator from the eighty-ninth floor of Stark Tower, she had an awesome flat in New York, and she was going out for sushi with her best (only) friend.
Which meant, of course, that the universe just had to throw a wrench at her face.
With her history, she really should've expected it.
This wrench (it was just the latest of a veritable pile of them that littered Darcy's whole life story) came in the form of a certain cocky-ass alien with a god complex who landed on the Stark Tower landing pad with a clap of thunder and dramatic swirling storm clouds.
Jane shrieked when she heard it, bolted right back into the elevator, and slammed the button for 94.
" Fuck it all," Darcy hissed, and jumped in right before the doors closed.
New York
December 2010
Jane's heart was in her throat as she hurtled out of the elevator.
Stark was across the room. It was his top floor, which a few people had access to, although the unspoken rule was that you left Stark's space to Tony Stark and Pepper Potts unless invited. It was also the level with access to the balcony and Stark's landing pad, which was why Jane was breaking all the rules and running as fast as she could across the common room, ignoring Stark as she did so. Darcy was behind her. Darcy would handle the egocentric billionaire. That was-
Thor.
Jane paused on the balcony, heart full to bursting. He was right there. Tall and blond and cloak snapping in the wind, Mjolnir in his hand. Exactly as she remembered.
She strode toward him and he toward her.
Crack.
Thor raised a hand to his cheek and stared at her.
" Where have you been ?" she shouted, and slapped him again. "It's been a year and a half , Thor! And you couldn't be bothered to, I don't know, drop in and leave a message? "Hey, Jane, I'm alive"?"
"Jane, I am sorry," Thor said, seizing both of her wrists and staring beseechingly at her. "It is just that…" He sighed. "Loki's actions have caused chaos throughout the Nine Realms. Many have seen it as a sign of Asgardian weakness and rebelled against peaceful civilizations; I have been struggling for much of this time to restore peace and order."
"Oh," she said, and found her anger somewhat deflated. "Well. As far as excuses go, it's… not terrible …"
Thor smiled, but there was something off about it.
"Is something wrong?" Jane asked, reaching for him, this time wanting nothing but the comfort of touching him, knowing that he was real and here. But he resisted, and she let her hand drop. He released the gentle hold he'd taken of her wrists. They fell limply to her sides.
That was when Jane knew something was very, very wrong.
She was a scientist. She processed data for a living. Everything about this encounter was screaming wrong, wrong, wrong to her mind.
"Jane?"
Darcy's voice came from behind her. Jane was suddenly very grateful for her friend, because she could tell from that one word that Darcy was ready to go toe-to-toe with a god (kind of) for her.
"It's fine," Jane said without turning. "Um… just… give us a moment, okay?"
"Yeah, sure," Darcy said, and Jane heard the balcony door hiss closed a few seconds later.
Thor took a breath. "Jane-"
"Spit it out," she said. She hated when people danced around truth. "Just - say it."
"My father has ordered us apart," Thor said.
Jane blinked. "What?"
Thor held up his free hand in surrender. "I am the Crown Prince; there is little I can do in this instance. The order has been given. You are Midgardian; I am Aesir. It would never work."
"So Aesir cannot marry with humans?" Jane snapped. "What are we, livestock?"
"Aesir can marry those of Midgard," Thor said slowly. "The Apples of Idunn make it possible. But I am the Crown Prince. It would not be… seemly."
Jane gritted her teeth. White-hot anger dripped down her spine, turning it to steel. She glared at Thor. "So because I'm a human, I'm inferior , is that it? Not worthy of your love?"
Thor's brows furrowed. "We spoke no vows of love."
"Oh, you bastard ," Jane breathed. She wanted to slap him again, but she knew he'd catch her wrist this time, the element of surprise gone. So she lashed at him with her words instead. "You bigoted idiotic arrogant rot-brained coward !"
Thor drew himself up, blue eyes flashing. She couldn't believe she'd once found them kind. "I am not a coward."
"Yes you are," she snarled, poking him in the chest. It probably hurt her finger more than it did him. "You're a coward , Thor Odinson, rolling over like a dog because your father commands it! You're just following orders , is that it? Such a good and noble little soldier!"
"I cannot disobey my king," Thor said tightly. "It would be high treason."
"This is why monarchies suck ass."
Jane twisted around and saw Darcy, who'd emerged once again, and stood fifteen feet away, scowling. She'd never been more glad to hear her friend's sarcastic voice.
"Lady Darcy," Thor greeted, always polite.
"Asshole," Darcy said pleasantly. "I think it's time for you to go."
"I-" Thor paused. "Have you any of those pastries… pip-tarts?"
"Oh for God's sake," Darcy snapped, and Tasered him.
The Aesir convulsed and collapsed, Mjolnir falling with a boom to the balcony.
"You okay?" Darcy asked, stepping closely to Jane's side. Jane saw Stark, for once exercising tact and waiting just inside the glass.
"Yeah," she said, and then looked down. "Wait. No. No, I am not okay."
Thor moaned, opened his eyes, and slowly climbed to his feet. "Huh," Darcy said, "guess this little guy is less effective when you've got your shocky hammer back. It's time for you to leave now, big guy."
"Jane," Thor said. "I am sorry."
"I don't want your apology," Jane said angrily. "Go back to your palace, Prince." She could see that her words were hurting him and couldn't help enjoying it, even though she knew she'd probably regret it later, when the anger drained away. "Go home and drink ale. Maybe Sif will make you a seemly wife."
She turned away.
She and Darcy were almost inside when the roar of the Bifrost sounded. Jane whipped around and saw the Einstein-Rosen Bridge disappear into the sky.
"Did I leave the instruments on?" she asked.
Darcy choked. "Only you, Janey. Let's get inside."
The doors hissed open, and the two young women stepped out of the chill evening air.
"Everything good?" Stark said, and now Jane knew where his tact had come from; Ms Potts was standing behind him. "What did Point Break want this time? And did you ask about his psychotic baby brother?"
"No," Darcy snapped, "we were too busy dealing with him dumping Jane after a year of no contact."
Jane closed her eyes. She could feel herself tearing up.
Stark opened his mouth. Ms Potts promptly covered it with her slim hand and looked at the scientist and the assistant. "You are both excused from work today," she said.
"Thanks, ginger," Darcy said. Any other time, Jane would've reprimanded her, but right now…
She just walked silently to the elevator. Darcy followed.
Jane forced herself to wait until they found their guest rooms before she let the tears fall.