A Nightmare Come True

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Loki sat up in bed with a jolt, squeezing the life out of his mattress. His right hand automatically moved to where his dagger usually hung, at his side, but it wasn't there. It took him a few moments to come to his senses, and he had to blink several times before his eyes adjusted to the dark. He could see the silhouette of his dagger, still pinned onto Sherlock's bedside table, and Sherlock himself, sitting up straight in his own bed across the room in what seemed like a meditating position.

"Nightmare?" Sherlock guessed without opening his eyes.

Loki nodded slowly. Slowly the memories came back to him in a haze — this random world, the stranger at his cell, and Sherlock. He remembered Sif ordering him to put on a green shirt and black pants which was apparently his 'pyjamas'. He really didn't see why he couldn't just sleep in his leather armour. He'd feel a lot safer, and probably sleep better. Chances were he wouldn't have any pesky nightmares either.

"Yes."

"If you want to talk about it, go ahead," Sherlock advised, "I probably won't hear a word you say, but Mycroft might."

Loki glanced sideways at the empty bed.

"Minecraft isn't here."

"Oh, but he's watching us all right. He probably has MI6 stuff planted all over this room."

At that moment a static crackle interrupted their conversation, and Sherlock grinned.

"Told you."

Loki sighed.

"I guess we'll have to do this the hard way."

-

"What just happened?" Mycroft demanded when Loki and Sherlock seemed to disappear into thin air.

"No idea, sir," one of the other relatively young assistants, Miss Smallwood, replied.

Mycroft stared at the screen in semi confusion. How could two boys just... disappear? Into thin air? Was is green-screening? Some optical illusion? A pre-recorded video that was hacking into their system?

"They've just..." she muttered, "it's like they turned invisible."

"Stick to the facts, Elizabeth," Mycroft ordered, "that's not possible."

"Nor is a giant green Gamma-radiation mutant," Miss Smallwood reasoned.

"The Hulk was a hoax, Elizabeth, nothing more," Mycroft claimed.

Miss Smallwood sighed.

"I suppose we'll have to report this?"

"Report this? And let those in charge know I've been using some of their equipment to keep an eye on my brothers? Hah, I'd rather die."

"You might die, if they find out," Elizabeth Smallwood pointed out, "after all, they can't exactly fire someone who knows so many British secrets already..."

"They won't fire me," Mycroft replied, sounding more confident than he felt.

"Just be careful," Miss Smallwood muttered under her breath, "I don't want to lose you."

Mycroft took one more look at the screen.

"Loki..." he muttered, "whatever trick this is, I know it's you."

He thought back to what he'd seen earlier that evening. He still didn't know how the boy (in his eyes, Loki was still no more than a boy) had done it, but there was no magic to it.

Magic is just science that hasn't been explained yet, right?

-

"What do you mean, 'the hard way?'" Sherlock enquired.

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