Choices With Consequences

Chapter 2

"What the fuck?"

Plates crashed. Ceramic.

So fragile.

Just like an ego.

Or sanity.

"What... the fuck!"

In times of crisis or shock, eloquence tends to leave even the most profound and well-spoken.

Loki feels as if he is overanalyzing everything in this situation, and perhaps he is.

A coping mechanism. An attempt to overflow the brain with information as to forget why exactly he is so anxious. Scared.

Red lights, blaring alarms, an alert.

There will be no easy out for Loki this time.

So he didn't. Didn't fight. Didn't argue. He just stood patiently and waited.

There weren't as many as he remembered, yet so many new faces. Is this the new face of the Avengers? Diverse, he supposed.

A black man, the Man of Iron, Black Widow, a synthetic android, and a child.

The android had the Mind Stone.

What a grave mistake.

What a grave mistake both teams are making.

"Avengers... I have a propo--"

"Take him down."

It appears they aren't in a chatty mood. A shame. He doesn't wish to fight. So he doesn't.

Loki allows the Widow to take out his knees, allows her to manhandle his arms behind his back. Allows her to dominate him.

He surrenders.

For the time being.

He needs this plan to work. He can't give them any reason to not trust him. As much as it hurts, as much as it shatters his fragile ego, he needs them.

...

Locked away in the green beast's cage. How eerily fitting.

The new Avengers were clearly on edge, they didn't trust his subjugation. They didn't trust him.

For good reason.

He is what people would call unpredictable.

But his plan will never work if the Avengers won't even stand in the same room as him.

He huffed angrily, he doesn't want to jeopardize his chances of help by breaking out or shocking them again, but at this rate New Asgard is doomed.

He spoke to nobody in particular, but he knows that they are listening.

"I understand this may come as a shock, however..." He pauses, the physical pain it brings him to utter his next words is quite honestly pathetic, "I need your help."

Men.

Women.

Both or neither.

Nobody likes to grovel to their enemies for help.

Tragically, some choices come with sacrifices.

He waited.

He waited for so long.

Please.

Please help.

...

They never did come for him.

So, he gave up on waiting. Loki couldn't play prisoner-and-guard when he had a civilization to save.

He also couldn't return empty handed. He's failed his people too many times, he refuses to add more failures to that list. A prince lives for his people. He cherishes them, cares for them, protects them. No matter the cost.

He knows that now.

...

"No..."

Horror, remembrance, trauma.

All evident within his eyes.

Hurt, suffering, anger.

Adorned his sleeve.

It happened so fast. One moment standing tall and proud, the next he's been thrown to the ground. Two calloused hands wrapped tightly around his throat.

It doesn't hurt. The man isn't strong enough to hurt Loki. He doesn't fight it.

Allows his victim to lash out, to vent his anger and hatred, to feel in control.

Loki understands what it means to lose all autonomy, to feel powerless, to be someone's servant or slave. A possession.

He understands.

"You took everything from me, you bastard!" The archer ground out through gritted teeth. A vein was bulging from his forehead and he was red in the face.

Loki hurts everybody.

He hurt this man.

It was only fair that this man, Clint Barton, hurt Loki in return.

All choices have consequences.

The attempted strangling lasted for no longer than a few minutes.

Hawkeye was phoning in backup.

Loki just hoped this team would listen to him.

...

This half of the new Avengers was lead by the ever righteous Captain America himself.

For once, Loki was listened to.

"So, basically, you need the Avengers to team up again so we can speak on behalf of Asgard? That way you can live in Norway? And you'd be totally willing to be our prisoner after we help?" The Captain clearly didn't buy it, but for once in Loki's miserable life, he was telling the truth.

"I know you have zero reason to believe me, but it is the truth. If you want I could even bring Thor to attest to our predicament, but I beg of you..." He inhaled sharply, "at the very least, consider my proposition."

If he were any weaker he would cry. But he's grown, he's matured, he doesn't cry as easily as he once did.

Or he thought.

The tears threatened to spill, but Loki wouldn't allow that. He wouldn't cry for his enemies.

The Captain saw right through him, he saw the child that he really was.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled harshly, "I'll consider it."

The dam collapsed under the pressure and his tears spilled in waves. Cascading down his cheeks like overflowing rivers after a storm. He couldn't help it. He felt so small, so pathetic, so relieved.

His knees buckled underneath him and he let gravity take him. By the Norns he was disgusting. Nothing but a pathetic child.

The Avengers watched in shock and for some disgust as Loki wept. Nobody daring to come near. He loved them for that.