Okay, so first of all, Thanks for giving this story a look! Also, I own nothing; save for my OC. Everything else belongs to Marvel. Lastly, I'm basing this story off what we've seen in the Marvel movies, not so much the comics. And I will be putting my own twist onto things. But I hope you enjoy! The title for this story comes from the Florence + The Machine song, "Seven Devils".
Even in Athens, the streets were in chaos. News of what was going on in New York City was being broadcasted on every station, and it seemed that the world was nearing its end. Everywhere there were women weeping, men praying and children crying.
None of that mattered. Vanessa Brown didn't care about the fact that she had completely abandoned her post. Her cover would most likely be compromised, if not completely blown. She ran through the streets of Athens, turning down dark alleys until she made it to her flat. Her sandals slapped against the cobblestones and then against the floor as she raced up to her room. Vanessa fumbled with the keys for a moment before she was able to slide the appropriate one into the lock. With a click, she was in.
Vanessa frantically flipped on the TV and sure enough, frottage from the invasion in New York was unfolding before her. She caught a flash of green from the Hulk before dashing to her room, in search of the phone she kept safely hidden at all times. Had anyone gotten their hands on that phone, the entire mission would've been blown ages ago. Once she had her hands on it, Vanessa unlocked the phone entering a series of passcodes until she had access to her contact list. She found the name she wanted and immediately hit the call button, pacing frantically. No answer.
"God damn it, Phil!" she shouted in frustration. "What the hell is happening? Call me back when you can." Vanessa hung up and sat herself down in front of the TV, wringing her hands.
Her hometown was under fire, and Vanessa was stuck, deep under cover in Greece. She waited in vain for the call from her mentor, Phil Coulson, unaware that hours before, the god who had help orchestrate the madness had killed him. She was kept in the dark until almost a day after New York had been taken back by the Avengers. Her phone rang again, and Vanessa jumped before looking at who was calling.
Director Fury. Not Phil.
"Director," she answered, trying to sound collected.
"Agent Brown," came Fury's voice. "We're going to need you to come in. Abandon your post, we're sending in someone else to take your place."
"Everything will be explained to you in full when you land on American soil. But we need you back here as soon as possible. Leave no trace of yourself behind."
There was a click and the line went dead.
Life as a spy had taught Vanessa to live on as little as possible and how to pack everything she owned in an hour. She wiped the place so nobody could pick up any DNA, then hacked her landlord's computer and deleted any and all files that contained anything to do with Vanessa.
Then, she was gone.
When she landed in New York, hours later, Vanessa was greeted with the news of Phil's death.
Two Years Later-London, England. MI6 Headquarters.
She pulled out her ID badge and gave it a swipe. The light flashed green and Vanessa yanked open the underground door and rushed inside MI6. The door slammed shut and Vanessa leaned against the wall, gasping for air. Right now, headquarters were the only safe place for her. At least, not until she shed her cover.
Picking herself up, Vanessa started walking down the dimly lit hallway in search of a bathroom, a black rucksack slung over one shoulder. After five minutes of walking, Vanessa turned a corner and found one. She eagerly stepped inside and was startled by her reflection in the mirror.
After a year and a half of doing deep undercover work for SHIELD in England, Vanessa still hadn't gotten used to her appearance. One of her specialties was to alter her appearance in subtle ways that made her unrecognizable. But Vanessa had been working in Downing Street, with the Prime Minister and she had been required to change more about herself.
She wore colored contacts that changed her hazel eyes to a very piercing blue, sewn into her head was a very, very black wig that looked almost blue, with bangs. She wore bright red lipstick and hidden expertly under makeup was a nosepiece. Her real nose was more on the button side but the one she had taken on was sharper. She looked exotic.
Her clothes were singed and blackened, there was blood running down Vanessa's right ankle. About an hour ago, a few blocks from Downing Street, a bomb had gone off. Vanessa was luck to escape from it, relatively undamaged. The only thing she left behind was her ID badge with her cover name, Elizabeth Horsley, on it, in hopes that t might be recovered and her cover thought dead. Then she had ran. There were few in MI6 who knew the nature of Vanessa's case and now it was the only place she could go.
A week ago the Prime Minister was found dead. Apparently, he had hung himself. Vanessa's mission had been to work as the Prime Minister's secretary. She was to find out all he had known about contact with alien life. And kill him, if need be. SHIELD was very concerned with anyone getting their hands on anything extra terrestrial since the "Incident" two years ago and the new Prime Minister had been a cause for worry.
But there was more to the story. Vanessa had a feeling that the dead Prime Minister hadn't really killed himself. Someone else must have and painted it to look like a suicide. But Vanessa hadn't seen any evidence to prove her theory. Sewn into her bra were two flash drives. One contained everything the Prime Minister had on extra terrestrial tech and in other, contained frottage from the areas in and around his office. She hadn't been able to look at either yet. But she was guarding them with her life, until someone from SHIELD came to get her.
"Best get to work, Brown," Vanessa muttered to herself.
She began cleaning out her cut on her ankle, picking out shards of glass and moping up the blood. Once it was clean, she wrapped it up in the bandages provided in the bathroom. Then she stood up and started pulling out things from her rucksack, scissors, makeup remover, contact lens case, and fresh clothes. Vanessa popped out her blue contacts and put fresh, clear ones in, reveling her hazel eyes. The she started wiping away the makeup. Bit by bit, the real Vanessa Brown started to show. Her cheekbones became not as defined, her lips from vivid red to a lovely, much softer shade. Her freckles on her nose came out. Next, Vanessa picked up the scissors and started cutting off the wig. The work was slow and painstaking, but finally it came off her head. Vanessa removed the cap that had been hiding her chestnut colored hair for so long. She shook it free and her hair fell just below her breasts.
Finally, Vanessa stripped off her office clothes and put everything that had to do with Elizabeth Horsley and threw them into the trash where it was all incinerated. She then changed into a fresh pair of dark jeans, a blue V-neck shirt and black boots. Under her shirt she strapped on a belt that carried a gun and a machete. Vanessa picked up her rucksack and exited the bathroom. She needed to get to the most secure part of the building so she could attempt to make contact with SHIELD. They needed to know that she was still very much alive.
As she walked deeper into MI6 Vanessa began to feel uneasy. "Always, above all else, trust your instincts." That's what Phil had told Vanessa during all those years of training. And her instincts had never been wrong. They were telling Vanessa that she was being watched. But they were making an effort to go undetected. So, Vanessa carried on her pace, pretending to be ignorant of the fact that she was being watched. But she kept her guard up.
Finally, her stalker made a heavy footfall, confirming Vanessa's suspicion. She still feigned ignorance, but she was readying her strike. When her stalker was almost upon her, Vanessa whipped around, swinging her leg up and kicked her attacker, a woman, in the head. Instantly, the fight broke out. There were hits, grunts of pain, and kicks. Bother were trained assassins, clearly. Vanessa was fighting for the upper hand, trying to get a good look at the woman who had been following her.
Finally, Vanessa was free to grab her gun. She yanked it off the belt and hit the woman in the head with it. She fell to the ground with a grunt of pain. Vanessa put a foot on the woman's chest, removed the safety on the gun and pointed it at the woman's head.
"Jesus, Brown!" the woman panted. Vanessa knew that voice, but she didn't lower her gun.
"Agent Romanoff," she said curtly. "You should know better than to sneak up on a spy."
"Didn't recognize you," Natasha panted. "Haven't seen you in two years. But thank God I found you."
"What is it?" Vanessa put the safety back on and secured her gun back into her belt, then she stepped off the Black Widow.
"Making the Prime Minister's death look like a suicide was a bold move. Fury wants to know everything you found out."
"I didn't kill him. Either Tudor killed himself or someone else did." Vanessa helped Natasha to her feet and started walking again. "I've been off the grid as much as possible stealing everything the Prime Minister had on alien tech before Scotland Yard came fishing. They started catching on though. Lucky the bomb went off. Elizabeth Horsley is dead."
Natasha nodded and the two agents traveled deeper into MI6 until they found a secure office. Vanessa swiped her card and entered the room. She then began picking at the thread in her bra until the two flash drives came loose. She flipped the switch on the computer and waited as it booted up.
"The E.T. stuff is going directly to Fury. But I want to take a look at the security cameras."
She stuck the flash drive with the footage on into the slot and started sifting through everything as Natasha made contact with SHIELD.
"This is Agent Romanoff. Put Director Fury on the line. Yes, Director, I've got her. She had the files. We'll be on our way back as soon as possible. Her cover is dead. Yes, I'll tell her. Goodbye." Natasha hung up the phone and went to sit on the computer desk. "Fury want's a detailed report when we land."
"I already sent him my report. It's in code, so no one but him can read it."
"Codes can be broken."
"I invented it myself. Fury doesn't even know all of it. He should have fun cracking it though."
"Why do you enjoy making the Director's life as difficult as possible?"
"I am allowed few pleasures in life, Agent Romanoff, thanks to him. I can respect him, but I don't have to like him. Director Fury took the closet thing I ever had to a father from me." Vanessa said all this in a flat voice, her eyes never leaving the computer screen.
"Loki killed Agent Coulson, not Fury," Natasha said gently.
"Fury as good as killed him. He mad no real effort to save Phil. He used Phil as a pawn in the Avengers Initiative the same way he used you, Barton, Banner, Stark, and Rodgers. It didn't matter who died."
"So you're holding Fury accountable even though Loki is the one who murdered Coulson in cold blood."
"I blame both of them." Said Vanessa curtly. "But Loki is more like you and I. He kills, he lies, he cheats and he steals. And he was working for a much stronger force. The only difference between us and Loki is that he picked the losing side and killed the wrong person. I'm sure Asgard is punishing him appropriately for his crimes. So I'm fine with not thinking about him."
"But what about what—"
Vanessa held up a hand to silence Natasha. Mouth agape she rewound the final footage the camera in the Prime Minister's office had picked up. A half hour before his death. A dark, imposing figure appeared in the office, then the camera turned to static. But there was no mistaking what Vanessa saw, and it sent chills down her spine.
"…What is it?" Natasha asked.
"Call Fury. Have him bring Jane Foster and Erik Selvig in. This is bigger than I thought."
It was impossible for Loki to figure out time in his god-forsaken prison cell. Upon his return to Asgard, he had been sentenced and stripped of his magic. Here, in prison, Loki was unable to talk.
His only visitors were Thor and occasionally Frigga. They would talk to him, but as Loki had lost all powers of speech, it was always one-sided. So mostly, Loki was trapped in silence and his own mind. There were times when he felt on the brink of madness. Then, someone would slide food through a slot or Thor would come down for a visit, however brief.
But his imprisonment had left Loki to his own thoughts. He was left to think over some of his actions. Did he regret his choice to join with the Chitari, yes? But Loki was still angry. Not once had Odin ever paid him a visit. The Allfather hadn't even graced Loki with a look during his sentencing.
It was so lonely and infuriating sitting in the cell all day, every day. More often than not, Loki wished that someone would come down and slay him. Surly death would be better than this prison?
He lay on his back, staring up at the white ceiling, trying in vain to summon some bit of magic. But nothing stirred inside of Loki. His attempts at magic were useless, but what else did Loki have to do with his time? Reaching a new level of crazy, Loki lifted on arm then slowly let it drop to the ground. He repeated the action for hours while singing some tragically awful song in his head that he had picked up on Midgard.
"Brother, are you listing to me at all?"
Loki stopped dropping his hand and turned his head in the direction of Thor's voice. He raised his eyebrows, surprised to see him. The door to Loki's prison was wide open behind the god of thunder and Thor was standing in the doorway, arms crossed, looking annoyed. Loki turned back to looking at the ceiling, not wanting to deal with his brother at the moment.
"Now is not the time for games, Loki. Get up," Thor said impatiently. "If you want to continue sitting in this cell fine."
Thor made to leave, but Loki stood up quickly. Was he really being allowed to leave? He looked at Thor, puzzled. His brother responded for something that could almost pass for a smile and gestured to the door. Loki walked hesitantly out the door. How long had it been since he had seen the outside of his cell? There was a sort of whooshing that went through Loki, making him sputter and cough. He gasped and held the wall. Loki's voice had been returned to him.
"Were are we going?" he asked, voice raspy from lack of use.
"To Midgard, brother."
Loke felt a tremor of fear run through him. "I have no desire to go into the useless realm."
"You do not really have a choice."
"Am I going there to continue punishment for my crimes?"
"No, you've more than served your time," Thor shook his head. He looked troubled.
"What is it that has you so worried?"
Thor and Loki continued their trek upwards towards the outside, to fresh air. Thor was silent for several minutes, a sort of frown on his face, as thought he didn't really know for sure what was going on.
"Heimdall saw something on Midgard that troubles him, concerning Jane and my other friends down there. He suggested I go down and see if there is anyway I can help."
"So why am I going?"
"You need to make amends, Loki."
Loki let out a bark of laughter. "I do not see how that is possible, Thor. It is an impossible dream."
"Nothing is impossible. Jane is willing to give you a chance."
"I don't even know that woman. What should I care if she wants to get friendly with me?" Thor gave Loki an annoyed look, but said nothing. "Wait." Loki threw an arm out. "We're not going to see the Allfather?"
"I have already seen him," Thor responded stiffly. "It is to the Bifrost we're going."
"Do you not remember me telling you that it had been repaired?"
"I have learned to tune you out when I do not want to deal with you. I must not have been listening when you delivered that bit of news."
If Thor was offended, he did not show it. Instead he rolled his eyes at Loki and pounded him on the back. As they made their way to the Bifrost, Loki tried his best to ignore the angry looks cast his way by the Asgardians. Instead, he tried to appreciate being outside for the first time in ages. And he tried to keep his anger at bay.
So, his father still would not even grace Loki with a meeting? Even after his imprisonment, the Allfather could not bear to look at the monster he had stolen and raised.
It does not matter. He never cared for you, Loki. Put Odin out of your head. You have bigger issues facing you on Midgard.
This was true. Loki had not forgotten the conversation he had with Tony Stark. He had made a lot of people angry. And he had killed a very valuable agent. What was his name, Phil? He had not even really meant to do it? One moment he was trying to escape and then he was angry, so angry. Without really even thinking about it, Loki had killed a man. He had killed many men during his time on Midgard. He had hurt so many people. And for what? The throne of a realm he did not even care much for? It had been a pointless dream with such drastic results. No, the trip to Midgard would not be one that was enjoyable in the slightest.
SHIELD Headquarters-New York, New York
Thor and Jane Foster were walking on either side of Loki, escorting him inside the impressive building. Since returning to Midgard, Loki was slowly regaining his magic. He could feel it stirring inside of him. It had made him want to flee, but Thor seemed to have sensed that, and was keeping an eye on his little brother.
As they entered SHIELD most people didn't even glance twice at the trio. But two people in a glass conference room directly in front of Loki froze. One was the scientist Loki had taken control of the last time he was here. The other was a woman he had never seen before with long brown hair. They had papers spread out on a table and had obviously been peering at them intently. That is, until two demi-gods casually walked in.
The woman grabbed a black object off the table and spoke into it. She then slipped it at her side and exited the conference room. She walked directly to Loki, Thor and Jane, stopping any sort of emotion from coming across her face. She was beautiful, not very tall, but she possessed very long, toned legs. Her was a kind one and she carried herself like a god. Or, perhaps, like a spy.
"Ms. Foster, good to have you back," the woman's tone was light.
"Agent Brown," Jane replied. So she was a spy. "Have you made any progress on the files and frottage?"
"Couldn't you make a trip back to London and see if you can gather any more information?"
"Well I could, but my cover is supposed to be dead. I would raise too many red flags going in as myself. I'm positive I got everything though. I know how to do my job."
"Agent Brown, you needed assistance?" a voice rang out across the hall. Loki found the face that belonged to the voice and swallowed. It was not someone he was eager to see, ever.
"Yes, Doctor Banner, could you please join Selvig in the conference room? I will be back with you shortly."
"Yes—" Banner caught sight of Thor and Loki. He froze before clenching his fists and rushing into the room.
"Excellent," the woman, Agent Brown, turned to face the trio. "Now, if you'll—"
"What the hell is he doing here?" a voice roared. Everyone in the area jumped, alarmed. Loki barley had time to react to the arrow soaring through the air straight towards him.
So that's the first chapter! I hope you enjoyed it! : )
Pretty please leave a review? It would be very much appreciated!