"I won't be your master's little servant boy any longer."

"He is willing to forgive you if you bring back what you were given along with the Tesseract," The Other hissed, "an offer I think is merciful."

"You think too much for a disgusting creature like yourself. How does he draw the strength to look at you, I do wonder," Loki said with a mischievous grin.

It was the second time that The Other decided to pay him a visit, but he was no more interested in speaking to him than he was to Willow although he was sure she was much more of a present threat due to the violent accounts of which she'd promised to strangle him several different ways before she fell asleep.

"If you refuse this, there is nowhere in the universe you can hide. He will find and kill you!"

The god of mischief did not respond, merely closing his eyes before opening them and spitting at The Other's feet.

"Run back to your master and tell him to find another mindless puppet to play his games for him."

"Perhaps I have not been convincing enough."

The Other turned to look at Willow's sleeping figure and Loki slowly straightened as he followed his gaze.

"The girl...she will make a fine slave," he said stiffly.

"Leave her out of this," Loki growled, "she has nothing to do with you."

"Nor you. She is not yours to claim—"

"She is not anyone's to claim." He glowered at him and The Other paused, looking back at the god of mischief.

Willow didn't understand what she was hearing as Loki's voice drifted into her dreams, causing her to stir.

He was speaking to someone, she could tell that much, but as she slowly opened her eyes, there was no one there. He was still sitting near the mouth of the tunnel, but he was glaring up at the ceiling as if someone stood above him, his mouth twisted into a snarl. What she could not see was the being that plagued his mind and leaned down with a foul breath that made his insides twist.

"Are you growing fond of the one you keep as your prisoner?"

"Fond is overdoing it."

"Either way, he will have what is his. Whether it be what he gave to you...," The Other glanced in Willow's direction before sneering at Loki, "or what you took."

"You will not touch her."

Loki's voice was soft, a dangerous tone that accompanied the dark expression on his face as he looked up at The Other.

"Choose wisely."

"Who are you talking to?" The girl interrupted and Loki's head whipped around to look at her.

Before he could say anything, the mark on his chest burned with incredible pain and he fell to the floor with a shout, clutching at his coat as his body trembled and tried to ease his suffering. He was struggling to breathe, but his throat would not allow him to and he lay on his back gasping for air like a fish out of water. Willow watched him writhe about in agony for a few seconds when he suddenly stopped moving. His hand was on his chest, the other flat on the ground, and the god of mischief was motionless, still and out of breath. After a few beats of silence, the young woman shifted to her knees and leaned forward cautiously.

"Loki? Loki?" She shouted.

He did not respond.

"Oh...this is great. This is just great," she fell back against the wall with a grunt, "Thor's gonna be so pissed. And I didn't even touch him yet—"

"Yet? I take it...that's an invitation for the near future?"

Loki groaned as he slowly sat up and turned to face her as Willow glared at him.

"You miserable rat. I though you were dead," she muttered.

"Would you have missed me?" He asked with a faint smirk.

"Only the opportunity to be the one to bury you."

She eyed him suspiciously as he leaned against the wall, inhaling deeply as if something had exhausted him of all his strength. Upon closer inspection, she realized that his face was much less pale than before yet he did not look any better and there was something in his eyes as he glanced at her...she didn't know if it was fear or if the lack of food and water was making her see things.

"Who were you talking to?"

His exhausted nature disappeared as he sat up straight at her question.

"You heard me." It was a statement rather than a question and she nodded. "You weren't supposed to."

"Well, I did. So, you gonna tell me?"

"No."

"You were talking about someone. I heard you."

"You heard nothing. Now go back to sleep, you're giving me a headache."

Loki closed his eyes.

"When you tell me to do something, do you actually expect me to do it or is that your superiority complex talking?"

He didn't answer her and she narrowed her eyes before sitting up in a pointed manner. There was something going on with him that she couldn't understand, from the headaches that he would get and the strange behavior as if he was trying to keep something at bay and now talking to...to what? To who? The Loki she had spoken to on the Helicarrier and battled against in the Tower was a very stark contrast to the Loki that sat in front of her—she'd find out one way or another what was going on because it seemed they either had all the time in the world or none at all.

There was only one thing bothering her.

How do you approach someone struggling with themself when you:

A. Hate their guts?
B. Have told said person you hate their guts?
C. Tried to kill this person because you hate their guts?

Willow didn't know what angle to come from and after a few minutes of playing tug-of-war with herself, she looked at him and decided to ask a simple question.

"How did you know?"

The fact that he absolutely knew what she was asking coupled with the way she was looking at him piqued his interest in the subject at hand, but he was hesitant to share how he had come across such knowledge. It hadn't been a pleasant experience for the person involved, after all.

"I have my ways," was his answer.

When he said nothing else, Willow looked away and began to play with the chains around her wrists. The slight rattling sound didn't scratch at his ears anymore as he'd gotten used to her doing it for the sheer purpose of annoying him. This time was a little different, his eyes wandering over the angry red marks that were a result of her rubbing her skin against the cuffs.

"Was it on purpose?"

Her head snapped up and she scowled at him.

"So you're allowed to ask questions and I'm not?"

"You are my prisoner," he said with a slight shrug.

"How about," she shifted so she was cross-legged and facing him, "I ask you something and you can choose to answer it or say pass. Same for me—I can answer or pass. Deal?"

"I gain nothing of value from this."

"Don't be such a snob."

"...fine. I'll go—"

"I'll go first," she snapped.

Willow made a point to move around before saying anything, her chains clattering loudly against each other as she took a few minutes to settle into a comfortable position while Loki glared at her.

"For Odin's sake—"

"Besides the glaringly apparent fact that you failed, why did you attack Earth?" She interrupted him.

"Pass," he said flatly.

"Oh, come on. That's literally the most major issue we have to talk about and you're passing?"

"You seem to have covered all the bases in the very abrupt and coarse conversations we've had earlier."

"Only what Thor told us."

"Oh? And what did he tell you?"

"That you wanted to become a king—"

"I am a king," Loki interrupted roughly, "and my idiot brother knows nothing of my intentions, nothing of what I had to give up and suffer to get here because of him!"

He was shouting at this point and the sound bounced and echoed throughout the tunnels, his own words being thrown back at him as he lowered his head and clenched his trembling fists in his lap. The young woman had frozen halfway through his outburst and settled for watching the god compose himself for a few minutes before looking up at her.

"You seem to know a bit through that oaf and you've formed your own opinion on account of the insults you so enjoy throwing at me when you have the energy."

"To be fair, you tried to kill me...twice."

"I've moved on from that and you should, too. Obsession is ugly."

"Did you just call me ugly?"

He tilted his head in a thoughtful manner.

"I suppose I did."

"I'm so gonna kill you now," she growled.

"Let me propose another deal. We will continue to ask each other questions, but you will tell me your story and I will tell you mines."

"Your story?"

"You want to know why I attacked Earth and I want to know the tale of a trodden down soldier," Loki explained as if it were as simple as that.

"I thought you knew."

"The devil is in the details and I am intrigued. In return, I will give you the answers you so wish to receive."

She scoffed.

"Of what, your villain origin story? I'm curious as to how you think you could possibly justify your actions."

"I will admit that I cannot, but I can tell you the truth."

"Why?"

"Because you're the only one willing to listen," he murmured softly.

Loki tilted his head, his eyes boring into her own with a deep intensity that only lasted for a few seconds before Willow tore her gaze from his.

She couldn't deny that she was interested in learning more about him. There was nothing that he had done to gain her trust and she had no reason to believe him at all, but how could she say no? Here he was, an entire being from another planet sitting before her with the intent to answer her questions about why'd he gone on a murderous rampage. Thor had his own speculations and he had been right, but surely he couldn't have known the whole truth.

The other trouble was her own story—Willow's past had its dark moments and it had left her feeling like nothing more than a broken weapon in the hands of the United States Army, so much so that she hadn't even spoken to Steve about it since they were rescued from the ice.

"How do I know if you're telling the truth?"

"Well, where's the fun in knowing?" Loki raised an eyebrow at her and she gave him a wary look.

"Okay," she finally said after a moment of thinking it over, "but we have to do something first."

She gestured for him to move closer.

"What?" He said, irritated.

"Will you come over here?" Willow snapped.

"No."

"I don't bite!"

"You say that now..."

"Just get over here, will you?"

Loki slowly rose to his feet, cautious of the young woman as he moved to sit near her although not within arm's reach.

"Closer," she said flatly.

"One day, you'll regret saying that," Loki mumbled to himself and scooted so that he was right next to her.

A sudden movement made him quickly lean back, freezing in place at the sight of Willow holding out her hand to him.

"What are you doing?"

"You don't know what this is?" She waved around her hand which was curled into a fist save her pinky that was sticking out.

"We lock our pinkies to signify that we both trust each other to tell the truth about everything. It's called a pinky promise and you can't break it," she told him in a firm voice.

At first, he thought it was some kind of joke. She was trying to make him—the god of mischief—enter into some sort of mundane and apparently unbreakable agreement through the locking of pinkies?

"You're joking."

"Do I look like I'm joking? Besides, if you lie and go back on our promise, I get to break your pinky," she grinned triumphantly, "so it's a win-win either way."

"Is this a common practice among peasant folk such as yourself?" He questioned.

"Call me a peasant again and it's more than your pinky I'll break."

He sighed and reached out to lock his own pinky with hers, their eyes locking as well and they both stared at each other in defiance before Willow withdrew against the wall.

"Alright. You already know a little about what happened, so what is it that you want to know now?"

"Was it on purpose?" He asked, using his previous question to start things off.

Willow clenched her jaw before answering with a solemn "yes."

He nodded his head for her to continue and she took a deep breath to steady her nerves.

Thinking about it was anxious enough, but having to talk about it was a whole different matter.

"Steve had taken a smaller company to another part of the border we were working to push past that day," she began slowly, "and he let the Comman...he let the main group assist me. I was put in charge. I didn't have the same status as him and he knew that, but he still had me lead them."

Willow paused, thinking for a moment before shaking her head.

"I always think about what would have happened if I had said no...,"

Loki watched her intently as she lowered her chin and began to fidget with her cuffs once more.

"You're going to tear all the skin off of your wrists if you continue like that," he pointed out.

Surprisingly, she didn't respond and dropped her hands.

"What happened that day...it was all my fault. I made the call and it was the wrong one. And Steve—"

Her voice cracked and Willow coughed loudly, looking away as tears suddenly began to sting at the corners of her eyes. As quickly as she could, she reached up to swipe them away before coming back to look at Loki whose expression was as blank as he could keep it.

"I didn't know how to handle not being needed. Especially when it came to my brother. He always needed me and when he didn't, I just...became a tag-along. That's what people saw. That's what I thought."

When she didn't say anything else, Loki speculated that she was waiting for him to ask another question, but he didn't feel like asking one anymore—not after the way she had tried to fight back her tears. He didn't like crying nor did he especially enjoy when those around him cried.

After a few minutes of silence, he cleared his throat.

"You don't consider it a mistake?"

"I only realized how much of a mistake it was afterwards," she said abruptly, "and there was no point in pretending like it was an accident because I had the chance to make sure. I didn't. So, no."

"And your alias," he asked with sudden inspiration, "what does it mean?"

She glanced at him in mild amusement.

"I was given the name Moonshadow by the men that I fought with because you could never see me coming." Willow smiled to herself at the memories of them trying to find her a name, rolling a pebble between her fingers to give her something to focus on. "I was very fast and as I fought mainly under the cover of dark, almost invisible—a shadow. Nothing special, but that's what they gave me and it stuck."

"Hm," he shifted to sit against the wall, "that's actually quite boring."

Willow scowled.

"Fine, snake, I think it's my turn. Now you have to tell me who you were talking to earlier."

Loki, who had been gloating over the fact that he'd been able to insult her just a second ago, cursed quietly under his breath.

He'd forgotten about that conversation and wasn't happy about being reminded of it, but there was nothing he could do. He'd entered an arrangement of trust with the Midgardian, no matter how idiotic it seemed, and although there was no chance of her trusting him anyways, he still had time to tell someone the truth.

Plus, he was very fond of having all ten of his fingers.

"A being not from this world nor mines called The Other," he stated, hesitant to share anything more.

She wiggled her pinky meaningfully and the god sighed.

"He is the servant of one that bears much power."

"And...I'm sorry, I'm missing the connection here," Willow said in a dry tone.

"You could say in a way, that this powerful being is—or was—my employer...of a sort," he finished, drifting off at her surprised expression.

"Wait, wait," she shook her hands at him, "you're telling me that you work for someone? Someone bigger and badder than you? Someone we actually have to worry about?"

"Must you abuse me so?"

"You attacked Earth for someone else?" She pressed, leaning forward.

"No. I did that for me," he said matter-of-factly.

At his words, her face closed off and she folded her arms, leaning back and away from him.

"I won't apologize—it is the truth, nasty as it may be."

"I didn't expect anything less."

Once again, her words were left hanging in the air and the super soldier and god slightly turned away, both feeling the resistance they had towards each other. Coupled with the amount of trust and vulnerability they had shown, there was an awkward yet curious energy that surrounded them, prompting Willow to try and start up something she did not consider finished.

"Why? Why did you do it?" She asked in a quiet voice.

Loki glanced at her and finally, for the first time, she didn't look away.

"I—"

RUMBLE, RUMBLE!

Both of them turned their faces up to the ceiling and Willow scrambled to her feet, eyes darting over the solid stone as if she were trying to pinpoint where the sound was suddenly coming from. Loki slowly stood up and neither of them said a word as they listened hard for anything else.

After a few minutes of dead silence, Willow sighed and was just about to sit back down when another huge boom echoed throughout the bunker.

"What the hell—"

Without warning, huge cracks quickly began to split the ceiling apart as something from above furiously slammed into the stone and Willow whipped her head around to see the tunnels were caving in, large pieces of concrete breaking off and crashing to the floor.

She turned back to Loki and he was shouting at her but she could hardly hear him nor could she think with the deafening sounds of the bunker falling apart when a large craaacck! split right above her head.

Willow blinked and in that second alone, a pair of hands landed on her back and shoved her, the young woman flying forward and slamming into the cold and dusty ground with a breathless gasp.

She quickly put her hands over her head as debris began to rain down on her, prickling pain shooting across her body wherever it landed.

After what felt like an eternity of laying there, she slowly dragged her hands along the floor, struggling to get to her knees when a rush of vertigo caused her to fall on her side. Multiple lights began to sweep across the bunker and she rolled onto her back, a dark figure suddenly looming above her while muffled voices called out to each other.

She recoiled as the light flashed in her face, blood pounding in her ears and the taste of dust and grime strong in her mouth when the figure moved to sit her up.

"Are—okay? Can—hear me? Agent Rogers—"

It was a man's voice, unfamiliar but urgent and she glanced at him, her eyes running over the S.H.I.E.L.D. patch on his shoulder.

Willow shook her head, slowly regaining her hearing as her eyes adjusted to the bright light pouring through the enormous hole in the ceiling.

"Agent Rogers. Are you alright?"

She froze and every little single twinge of pain disappeared at the sight just inches away from her.

Under an enormous piece of concrete, Loki lay face down with his arms spread out above his head and her chain, still attached to the floor, was completely obscured as was the lower half of his body.

"Loki," she breathed.

The super soldier broke away and scrambled to kneel in front of the unconscious man, her hands shaking as she pushed against the concrete. It didn't budge, not the first nor the second nor the third time as she continued to shove herself against the piece of debris when someone pulled her away, her limbs too exhausted to flail in protest.

"Get off," she growled, pushing at the person.

"You're injured, ma'am, please—"

"Get the fuck off!"

"Agent Rogers," the person said firmly and she reluctantly gave up struggling.

More agents had appeared on the scene and they were surveying the area, some going to surround Loki and one cutting the chains off of her.

"Where's Steve? Where's my brother?"

"He was right behind us," a man walked into her view, one that Willow had seen only twice before as the agent spoke to her, "they should be making their descent soon."

The man stopped in front of her and crouched so he was on her level.

"Cap...we found her. She's alive," he said into his earpiece.

She blinked in confusion.

"Agent Rumlow?"

——————
☀︎ celine's corner ☀︎

phew, this one was a little long but rightfully so and
i regret nothing. hope you enjoyed this one!