Winter's Hearts

Chapter 38

You raised your hands in surrender and turned toward the computer monitors. You kept Loki in your sight, but you were outmaneuvered right this moment. You needed to buy some time and figure out how to get the gun off of Loki's head and the electrical lines off of both of you. Especially Loki. Your Loki was afraid of storms, afraid of lightning. He couldn't stand being electrocuted. He couldn't move as the gun was pressed to the side of his head.

You had to play along. For now. To keep your charge safe.

Your life ever before his.

You would do whatever you had to to get your husband out of here safely.

Anything.

"What do you want from me?" you demanded of the male voice that had come from the computer monitor as you slowly lowered your hands. There were still electrodes attached to you too, you weren't getting out of this easily without doing what they wanted. So you had to see what they wanted.

And you knew it wouldn't be good. Not if they were going to such lengths to get you to cooperate. Threatening your husband was going to far and you were going to kill them all as soon as you got the opportunity.

You just needed an opportunity.

Loki didn't dare move, remaining kneeling on the floor with the gun against his head, though you could see the pleading in his eyes for you to flee, to leave him here. You were never going to do that. Ever.

"You, my dear, are going to bring someone back from the dead for us," the man's voice said from the computer monitors.

Shit. Fuck. Damn.

"I can't do that," you told him. You really couldn't do that. You had been lucky to be able to bring Nat back. It had to be someone newly dead, like killed in front of you dead. You knew instinctively that that wasn't the case in this situation.

You jumped when they shocked Loki again and he cried out in pain.

"No! Stop! I really can't!" you pleaded with tears in your eyes. You charge, your Loki, you husband was in pain and there was nothing you could do to stop it. "Please!" you begged. The electricity stopped and Loki panted as he tried to breathe through the pain.

"You have brought people back before," the voice told you.

"Yes, I have. But only those newly dead," you protested. "Only those who have died before my eyes,"

"Very well, if you refuse... kill him!"

"NO!" you shrieked as the gun cocked, as electricity flowed through your Loki. As he cried out in pain. "I'll do it! I'll do it!" you gave in. You had to give in. You had to save him.

No matter the price.

You had to save him.

You had to.

You had to!

"I knew you would see reason," the voice from the computers said as they stopped torturing your Loki again. He whimpered in pain and you could see how hard he was breathing. His form was shimmering. He was in so much pain and with so many electrical burns that he was having trouble holding on to his Aesir form. "Bring in the body," the voice ordered.

A casket was rolled in while you are helpless to move or risk hurting Loki. All you wanted to do was run over to him and heal his wounds. Instead, you were dragged over to the casket, though you turned so you could keep Loki in your line of sight.

"Kyrie! No!" Loki yelled as the casket was opened. He yelped when he was hit with the butt of a gun. "You can't! You'll die!" he protested, ignoring the men around him. He knew your limits as well as you did.

"My life ever before yours," you told him softly before you looked into the casket. That shut him up, but only would for a while. You could practically hear the gears in his head turning trying to figure out a way out of this for both of you before you had to do something that would kill you. The problem was, there wasn't time. They would kill him if you didn't hurry and get to bringing this person back from the dead.

The body was old, the man was obviously not entirely human, but the body was perfectly preserved. Someone had gone through a lot of effort to keep him preserved without decay. You recognized him, too. It was hard not to when his skin was entirely red and he had no nose. You didn't remember his real name at the moment. It wasn't important. You did know his alias. It was Red Skull, effectively the creator of Hydra, and he'd been dead since before Cap went into the ice. He'd been dead for 70 years. He was also evil. But more importantly he'd been dead for 70 years.

They wanted you to bring back someone who had been dead for 70 years.

You couldn't bring back someone who'd been dead a day.

You could barely bring back someone who'd been dead an hour.

You had no choice.

"I need my sword," you told the agents. "I can't bring him back without it," you weren't entirely sure you could bring him back withit, but you had to try for Loki's sake. One of the men handed you your dragonfang blade back. You looked up from the body and locked eyes with Loki. "I'm sorry, my prince, my husband, my charge, my best friend, my Loki. I'm sorry, but there's no choice," you told him softly.

"Kyrie! NO! Don't! You can't! You'll die!" Loki protested, ignoring the guards shaking him and telling him to be quiet.

"My life ever before yours, my husband. I love you," there were tears in your eyes at Loki's roar of anguish at what you were willing to give up to save him. A single tear fell before you turned your attention to the task at hand. There was no choice.

So you placed a hand on the corpse and dove into the land of the dead on your quest to find him to return him to the land of the living. If you succeeded, you could always kill him again. If you didn't die in the process of finding him or shoving him back in his body.

You were fucked.

You don't know how long you searched for his soul. It felt like eternity. It felt like no time at all.

You finally found him in the halls of Valhalla. Despite that he had been evil, he had died in glorious battle against Cap, which had technically granted him access to Valhalla. Even if he was a piece of dirt. The rules only stated that it was warriors and those who died fighting in battle who were allowed.

He was drinking in the hall and thankfully Odin wasn't there to yell at you for stealing him out of Valhalla. "You're coming with me," you told him while he looked at you stupidly.

"But... I'm dead," he protested.

You rolled your eyes. "Yes. You are. And while I agree that you should remain dead, unfortunately your moronic followers are insisting that you become alive again. And since my husband's life is on the line, that means you need to come with me. Now," you told him firmly and grabbed his arm to drag him back to his body.

He protested, of course he did, but he finally allowed himself to be led to his body and shoved back into it. It took every drop of power you could muster. It took all of your strength, all of your skill, and all of your centuries of training to manage it.

It was a struggle and there weren't words to describe the pressure your mind and magic were under to shove his soul back into a body that had been dead for seventy years. The pressure built and built as you were stretched so thin. You pulled on every reserve you had, every trick you'd learned over the centuries.

You managed it.

Just as something snapped within you.

You opened your eyes on the real world and found yourself looking into a pair of bright green eyes set in a thin pale face, framed with raven black hair.

"Darling? Love? Are you alright?" he asked as he helped you into a sitting position.

You just looked up at him confused.

It took you a minute to find the words. You were so tired and drained.

Why were you tired and drained? You couldn't remember.

You looked up at the man and asked him the question you needed to know:

"Who... are you?"