"And how do you know I won't just kill you?" He asked.
"Because you need me. Without my survival skills and knowledge, you won't last a week in the Alaskan Bush. Once summer rolls around we can retrieve your precious stone and I'll let you leave, a...
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The fighting continued
Loki and I took care of the elves wreaking havock on Montreux while Thor fought Malekith. By now, round portals had begun to appear in the sky, and we were trying desperately to hold them off until the convergence passed.
Jane, turnes out, was able to help too. She used the huge, spike-sensor things to manipulate the weak spots between worlds and make elves disappear at will. Where they went? I didn't know. But at that point they weren't my problem anymore.
We fought and fought. Our arms grew heavy and they were getting harder and harder to swing. My knuckles were bloody, and ached to be done for the day. I should've thought to bring some brass knuckles or something, but seeing as how I didn't really get a chance to prepare, I guess I didn't blame myself. My Asgardian armor kept me pretty well protected, save for the fact I didn't have a helmet. I had a small graze on my shoulder that just wouldn't stop bleeding, and a pounding headache from taking a blow to the temple.
Luckily for us, the police finally showed up. They got the pedestrians out of the way, and tried to contain the fight. Those poor souls, bless them. They had no idea what was going on, or what to do about it.
As a brand new mass of seven or eight elves came rushing towards me, I never wished for my old Hydra weapons more. An assault rifle would've been nice, or even a nine milometer rifle. Heck, I would've taken the revolver I carried around with me in Alaska, the one I shot the bear with. Man, those were simpler times.
I reached my hand out towards the sky like I had so many times before, and converted enough energy in my body to electrocute the oncoming group.
They stood there frozen for a moment, and then fell to the ground. I took a few labored breaths and looked around for Loki. When I found him, he was several yards away from me, fighting yet another elf. I could tell he was tired from here, and that he was having a really hard time fighting off the elf before him. In the begining, he could've taken on six elves at once. Not now.
I ran.
He saw me coming and we locked eyes. He tossed me a dagger from the opposite side of the elf. I caught the handle in my hand and sank it into the elf's neck without so much as a falter. I had killed so many elves by that point that it didn't faze me. They all looked the same, sounded the same, fought the same. They could've been clones for all I knew.
He made some caughing and sputtering sounds before he sunk to his knees, and fell on his face. Dead.
Loki was on the ground at that point. Whether the elf pushed him down during the millisecond that he threw me the dagger, or whether he collapsed from exhaustion, I didn't know. I didn't ask either. I just offered him my hand, and used my body weight to pull him to his feet. He was panting and out of breath. I locked eyes his him. Even his eyes looked exhausted. "You holding up alright?" I asked.
