Still Holding On

Chapter 55

Loki doesn't know how long he's been sitting in this stupid chair. Nobody's told him what's going to happen next. Nobody's said a word to him since he got here. He's just sitting here in this dull gray room, handcuffed to a table like a dog chained to a pole.

He's just so bored. He can't even take a walk — or take a nap. He'd be fine with either; anything but sitting here in silence.

Until finally, that silence comes to an end. The door opens, and Loki watches with intrigue as three men step into the room, closing the door behind them. Two of them are police officers, but the third, he's not so sure. He's not wearing any kind of uniform — just jeans, a t-shirt, and a flannel, not all that different from what Tony would wear on a normal day. He really just looks... normal.

Loki cocks an eyebrow, watching him silently. They wouldn't bring an ordinary person here. He's almost certain of it. He must be somebody special.

"You remember me?" the man asks.

"I don't," Loki says cautiously, "but the fact that you thought to ask makes me think you knew that."

"I've heard rumors," he replies.

"Rumors from whom?"

"Nicholas Fury."

Loki nods slowly. That's... wonderful. So SHIELD sent someone after him. This is going to be a nightmare. Maybe he should have run from the cops after all.

"My name's Steve Rogers," the man says. "I'm here on behalf of SHIELD. Now, if I get you out of here, are you going to cooperate?"

"That depends on what you expect me to do," Loki replies.

"Keep your hands to yourself and don't run off, and you'll be just fine."

Loki ponders this for a few moments. That sounds simple enough, but then, depending on what SHIELD wants from him, running off might be his only chance at peace.

Still, it's a risk he's interested in taking, more out of curiosity than anything, so he nods. "Alright."

Steve glances at one of the two officers accompanying him, and one of them walks up to Loki — watching him suspiciously all the while — and uncuffs one of his hands, only to cuff it back up again, no longer caught under the table.

Steve leads him through the police station, an officer in front and an officer behind the whole time. When the doors to the outside open, he's greeted with at least a dozen cameras, but when the other men don't acknowledge them or the yelling that accompanies them, neither does Loki.

Steve opens the passenger side door, and, though he's a little surprised that he's allowed in the front, he takes a seat anyway, clasping his cuffed hands in his lap. Steve closes the door, says a brief word to the officers that walked out with them, then loops around to the other side of the car, sliding into the driver's seat.

And then they're off.

Aside from the occasional glance in Steve's direction, Loki's gaze mostly remains out the side window, watching the world go by. As the time drags on, so does the silence, and what can only be a few minutes feels like hours.

Until finally, Steve says, "If the cuffs are bothering you, I can take them off. They gave me the key."

Loki cocks his head to the side. "I don't need to wear them?"

"It was more for show than anything," Steve says. "My understanding is that you're not quite the murderous psychopath I met last time, but that would be pretty hard to explain to the cops or the news."

"Oh." Loki looks down at his hands. So Steve doesn't mind if he's free. There's some level of trust there. It's kind of the bare minimum, but for a formerly "murderous psychopath," it's more than he would have hoped for.

Loki pulls his hands apart, and the chain linking the cuffs together snaps in two. He rips each metal cuff off his wrists and rests the pieces in his lap. He rolls out his hands, letting his wrists enjoy their newfound freedom. This is marginally better. He still wouldn't say he's comfortable here, but it's better.

Steve glances at him out of the corner of his eye. "You could've done that this whole time?"

Loki shrugs sheepishly. "I thought it would be easier to play along."

Steve cocks an eyebrow, but he doesn't question it.

It grows quiet again, the silence broken only by the music playing softly on the radio. Loki rests his head against the passenger side window and lets his eyes glaze over, hardly registering anything that happens outside as they pass by it. He could fall asleep like this. The gentle bumping of the car on the pavement – though hardly moving in this New York traffic – is oddly comforting. He could easily just close his eyes and fall asleep until they get to...

Somewhere.

Wherever they're going.

... Where are they going?

Loki looks over at him. "Where are you taking me?"

"That's kind of up to you," Steve says. "I can take you back to Stark Tower–"

"No."

Steve huffs at that. "Okay, then I can take you back to SHIELD headquarters and we can figure out what to do with you there."

Loki frowns. That would probably be for the best. It's an organization full of people who know who he is, what he did, and what little he remembers about it. If he has to make a home somewhere, those are probably the people he wants to do that with: people who understand, to some extent, what happened and that he's not an irredeemable monster – nor is he a child who needs coddling, like Thor and Tony seem to think he is.

But, at the same time, the few people he's met from SHIELD haven't been all that friendly. Clint was alright, but Natasha? Fury? This could be a nightmare in the making, and then what does he do?

Steve must recognize his hesitation, because he says, "Or we can skip that part and I'll give you the offer Fury was going to give you when you got there: I can drop you off somewhere, you can pretend to be someone totally different, and try to start a life here. SHIELD can make you a fake identity – they can send you halfway around the world, if you want – and you can start over with a new name and a new face."

Admittedly, this has been his plan since he found himself on the streets. This is better than his plan, even – SHIELD could help him get started, and he really could try to have a normal life. But the more he thinks of it, the worse it sounds. He'd live here for dozens of generations, just doing the same thing over and over and over. At least the other realms are designed for people to live for thousands of years, but everything on Earth will move so fast. Every friend he makes will die and every building he goes to will one day be torn down and every store he likes will one day close and he'll have to make new friends and go to new buildings and find new stores and everything will change but everything will stay exactly the same. That just sounds miserable.

Loki sighs and rests his head against the window again. No matter what he does, it's going to become boring and repetitive and one day fall apart. He has a very bleak future ahead of him, doesn't he?

"You don't have to decide now," Steve tells him. "I can take you to SHIELD HQ and you can make up your mind there about what you want to do – or, if you don't want to go there yet, we can get a hotel, get some room service, and you can have the night to think it over."

Loki's movie-watching has prepared him for hotels, but he's not entirely sure what "room service" means. Something fun, he hopes – something relaxing. That would be nice: relaxation. And he's definitely not going to be able to relax at SHIELD headquarters, so maybe...

"I would appreciate that," Loki says finally. He just needs time to think. He needs time to sort out what he wants to do now. With the way everything's fallen apart over the last few months, from his so-called family in Asgard to the only relationship that mattered on Earth, he just needs a break to figure out what to do now.