Didn't Know I Was Lost, 2/8. NC-17
Title: Didn't Know I Was Lost
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Loki/Natasha
Disclaimer: Not mine! Some comic backstory is incorporated into characterizations, but this is still primarily movieverse.
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-Avengers, AU to Thor 2.
This is the fault of phoenixrising06/
romanovasledger during all of our characterization discussions. Still, not sorry for this. :)
Summary: Natasha and Loki had a thing, no emotions or strings attached. Until they accidentally created one.
Prior chapter:
One - Accidents
Two - Decisions
Natasha knocked on the door to Clint's suite. The archer was lounging on the couch of his sitting room, playing a video game. She was amused to see that it was Assassin's Creed, and came in at his grunt of acknowledgement. Usually he played his games in the common room, but if he wanted to stay alone and not be social, he played in his own suite. Natasha was generally an exception to his "I don't want to talk to people" kind of mood, but this conversation might strike her name from that very short exception list.
"'Sup?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the screen.
She quietly shut the door and sat on the couch near him. Letting out a quiet breath, she decided it would be better to simply dive in and tell him. "I'm pregnant."
Clint was so startled, he fumbled the controller and dropped it. He ignored Altaïr falling and dying on the screen, gaping at Natasha. "Wait. I thought that wasn't even possible."
He knew everything about what the Red Room had done in gross terms, not needing details regarding training. Natasha had merely explained that steps were taken to ensure that no Widow was ever "lost" to pregnancy or nursing, wasting the valuable resources of the Red Room. Clint had never needed to know how she felt about it, as he could glean some of her feelings in just how she had explained it: matter-of-fact, a part of her history she couldn't erase and simply had to deal with. There was no point in having an opinion or emotions about it, because she couldn't change it.
But now things were different.
"It wasn't until Loki healed me with that spell. It reset everything in my body."
Blinking, he thought furiously. "That's why you were in so much pain. That's why even Loki couldn't explain what happened." Natasha nodded, somewhat unhappily. "How do you feel about that?" Clint asked carefully.
"I don't know."
"Tash..." Clint wheedled, shifting closer on the couch.
Natasha let her eyes shut and she sighed deeply. "I really don't know. I'm... I'm scared," she admitted finally, opening her eyes. "This wasn't supposed to be a possibility. I didn't even mourn it, you know. It was just another part of me, just some other fact to tell them when you brought me in." She couldn't quite keep her lips from trembling. "But now it's real. It's happening, and I don't know what to do about it."
"Meaning?" Clint asked, brows furrowed.
"I should abort it," Natasha said in a rush, hands clasped tightly in her lap. "I wouldn't be able to function on the team. I couldn't fight with you or Steve. I wouldn't be able to infiltrate places. I'd be useless, dead weight. And I'd be sick, uncomfortable, moody and off my game. And that's just if it's a normal pregnancy. As much as the spell should have reset my body, what if it didn't? What if something goes wrong and this kills me? Even in normal pregnancies, women can suffer."
Clint placed both of his hands over hers. "But," he began slowly, sensing that this wasn't all of her thoughts on the matter. "It's still your child, still part of you. And if you did that, would you be any better than the Red Room, pruning out the girls that couldn't make the cut?" He watched as Natasha bit her lip and nodded. "And this might be a way to show you're not as bad as you think you are."
"I couldn't be a mother. Not with the hours I keep, the job I want to have. How could I do that to a baby? Leave it somewhere, die, and then it's alone. How could I teach anyone the right way to be?"
"Because you're living it. Because you're even struggling with this decision." Clint's hands tightened over hers. "You're trying to consider all your options, not just getting rid of it without thinking about what would be best for everyone. That's what a parent does, Tash. Trust me, that kid is going to love you no matter what you do."
Natasha let out a choked sound and leaned forward until their foreheads touched. "You told me about..." Her voice trailed off. "I wouldn't do that, I know I wouldn't. But if anyone knew, and then decided to use it against me-"
"Who's the father?" Clint asked gently.
The choked sound now was more like a bark of laughter. "Loki."
Clint was very still. "What?"
"I was horny and I fucked him. A lot." The noise she made next was suspiciously like the kind of hiccup used to choke back a sob. "I don't even like him most of the time, but he was pretty damn good in bed."
"I really didn't need to hear that," Clint said dryly.
Now she laughed a little, but there was a bitter, lost edge to the sound. "He wants it."
"You told him."
"Right before I came here. I was so angry, I thought he did it on purpose. But that makes no sense, not if I really think about it." Now she didn't hide her sob. "I don't know what to do, Clint. I don't want it. But I want it. It's not any kind of practical, I shouldn't have it, I'd be a terrible role model..."
"Now hold it right there," Clint said firmly. "Choice of fuck buddy aside, you're an awesome role model. You made the decision to leave the life the Red Room trained you for, and that's hard as hell. The mercenary thing wasn't because you wanted to be that way, it's because they made you that way. And when you made your own decisions, really made them, you struggled to do the right thing. You're working to save lives, to keep people like Hydra or AIM or whatever else from hurting people. It's not because you have to, but because you want to. Because it's the right thing to do. Because you know exactly what they're capable of, and you want to stop it. That's pretty fucking heroic, Tasha, don't ever think it isn't. It's not an easy path you're on, but you do it without complaining."
"I have to balance my ledger."
"Yeah, but you are the one that gave you the ledger. It wasn't us."
Natasha shut her eyes tight and nodded. "But if I did keep it..."
"Do you think I'd let you do this alone if you wanted to keep it? Even if it's Loki's kid? Or Steve? Even Tony would help. Pepper and Rhodey would be all over this, you know. And good God, Thor. He'd be fucking ecstatic, like it's going to change Loki or some shit like that. Don't tell me it's not true."
She barked out her laughter and opened her eyes. "Maybe."
"Oh, fuck that," Clint huffed. "You know how they'll react to this. You know it better than I do." He pulled her into a tight hug. "It's okay if you're afraid, Natasha. You're only human. I'm fucking terrified for you right now."
"You are?"
"Yeah. That poor kid... A bunch of superheroes as its family. The entire world better treat it right or we'll bring 'em all to their knees."
Natasha laughed, body sagging against his in relief as she hugged him back tightly. "You're not mad at me?"
Clint sighed but didn't let go. "Honestly? Loki? The fuck were you thinking, Tash? If you wanted a baby daddy, I'd be the first to volunteer, you know." She smacked his arm and he yelped in pain. "What? It was fun, what we had. How come you didn't even ask this time around?"
She pulled out of his embrace and shrugged a little. "He was lonely and broken and I liked the look of those edges."
Sighing again, Clint shook his head. "This poor kid. You're not giving it the talk, okay?" At her blank look, he laughed. "The sex talk. Let's not warp the thing and having it look for the sorriest loser it can bang. That's just asking for trouble, really."
Natasha smacked him again, and he playfully yelped. "Shut up."
He grinned unrepentantly at her. After a moment, he sobered. "I know better than to ask if he hurt you, because I know he'd be dead right now. But... He didn't mess with your head, did he?" He relaxed when she shook her head. "Okay. I don't have to try to slit his throat, then."
"Are you sure you're okay with this?"
"Hell, no. But mostly because I figured that I'd be a loser of a father if I ever had a kid anyway. With my dad and Barney as role models?" Clint shook his head. "Some things just aren't worth the risk. But that's for planning it, you know. That doesn't mean I wouldn't try now."
"You're not the father," Natasha reminded him.
"Well, you're making me godfather, right? Even if you didn't do it officially, I'm not letting that kid out of my sight. With Loki as a baby daddy, we'd all want to make sure it's not fucked up."
Her lips wavered a bit, but she steeled herself not to cry. "What if I don't make it? Loki's not human. What if this doesn't even work and I'm worrying for nothing?"
"We'd still be here for you, Tash." Clint pulled her into a hug again and kissed the top of her head when she sniffled. "Whatever happens, whatever you decide."
She held onto him tightly. "Thank you." She sniffled and looked up at him with an almost plaintive expression. "I'd never want to lose you."
"No matter what you do, Tash, you never could."
***
Clint walked into the gym and saw Loki there going through stretches and forms that looked similar and different to tai chi or yoga. He pursed his lips, thought for about two seconds, then walked up to Loki and punched him with a strong right cross before the god could even open his mouth to ask what Clint was doing there. He looked down at Loki's sprawled form, the surprise bleeding into anger on his face. "That's for knocking up my best friend," he growled. "If anything happens to upset her, I've got arrows with your name on it, just waiting to fuck you up."
Loki touched his jaw and worked it a little, then stood. The anger still simmered in his eyes. "She was hardly innocent of those encounters."
"I'm aware," Clint said tightly. "Frankly, you make me sick, and I have no goddamn clue what she sees in you." He looked Loki up and down in disgust. "For the record, I think you'd be a terrible father."
"It's likely a moot point if she decides not to keep the child," Loki replied acidly. Clint could hear the pain in his voice, and decided to squelch any sympathy he might have on that front. Loki was a sociopathic killer. He still wasn't sorry for the deaths in Stuttgart or New York, and certainly had never cared for the Chitauri he had led. It was all about his own wants and needs. Even asking Natasha to keep the baby was because he wanted the child, not because she necessarily did.
"You're damn right, it's her decision. Can she even carry it to term? What's going to happen to a half human, half Jotun child? Is that even going to work?"
There was a tightening around Loki's lips that Clint had been looking for. So he had been worrying about that as well. Good. Clint hoped it kept him up at night. The bastard had to learn to consider others' needs sometime, and he sure as hell had to care about his own child. There were enough terrible fathers out there in the world.
"I would help with the child," Loki told him stiffly. "I will not abandon it, and I will not lie about its origins."
Ah, the sticking point. Clint had gotten the story piecemeal from Thor and his friends when they were ridiculously drunk on mead once. Add to that the vague bits he could remember while being possessed by Loki, and he had his own picture of what drove him to try to take over Earth. Still, it didn't excuse his actions, not by a long shot. He had wanted it made clear on every single SHIELD document that Loki was still a killer, still responsible for the thousands that were dead. Just because he helped the Avengers on missions out of duress didn't mean he was absolved of guilt.
"So is it going to be pale like Tash or blue?" Clint asked flatly.
Loki, already fairly pale, now looked downright sickly. "I'm not sure," he said slowly, as if the words were foreign to him. "I was born Jotun, but spells were placed upon my form as an infant." Each syllable was dragged out of him with great difficulty. "Then in the Void, much was changed or lost."
"Meaning?" Clint prompted when he fell silent.
"Meaning I know not if I count as Jotnar or Aesir."
Clint threw up his hands in frustration. "Great. Uber mutt, then. Tash is assuming the pregnancy would be as long as a human one. What is it for them?"
"An Aesir confinement can last between two or three of your years," Loki told him quietly. "I don't know what it would be for Jotnar, and most of them are destroyed."
"Destroyed," Clint echoed blankly.
"Their people were decimated before my arrival on this realm," Loki said dryly, though he couldn't meet Clint's eyes. Oh, great. More death at his hands?
"Awesome," Clint replied sarcastically. "So we don't have any idea what she'll be going through with this."
"No." Loki at least sounded appropriately concerned for Natasha.
There was no point in threatening him again if something happened. "Who would?"
"My mo-Frigga would possibly know," Loki said, catching himself before he called her mother. Really? Clint would have loved to have someone that supportive to call his own, but Loki was a contrary bastard. "I do not believe she would come to my aid."
"Well, she wouldn't be helping you," Clint snapped. "Whatever issues you've got with her, I don't give a shit. I only care what happens to Natasha."
Loki's eyes snapped to his, and Clint was surprised at the intensity of emotion there. "On that point, we are in agreement."
"So?"
"If Natasha decides she will carry the child, I will try to contact Frigga. I do not believe she will reply, but I will try."
Clint took in the stiff posture and nodded. "Okay, then."
Loki called out as he left the gym. "Did she tell you what she decided?"
Was that fear in his voice? Did he actually look about to cry?
No, couldn't be. Clint shook his head. "She's not sure. There's a little time yet before she has to decide, if it's like a human pregnancy."
He nodded stiffly at Clint, then turned away. The slope of his shoulders was one of defeat, however. That Clint could tell very clearly. He really did want this child, really did care what happened to Natasha and the baby.
Maybe he wouldn't completely suck as a father after all.
Though Clint thought of the distant way he had treated the mercenaries, the manic laughter and the sickly cast to his movements. He was still a selfish bastard. And maybe being a good dad was still a selfish thing, Clint didn't know. But then, not every good dad was a good person.
Loki didn't say anything else, and merely stood there with his back to Clint and his head and shoulders bowed. Without anything else to say, Clint left the room.
***
Natasha at first thought she would be one of those women that didn't get morning sickness. That was a misnomer, though. It was more like "any time of day but especially when it was really damn inconvenient" sickness. She had to push past the nausea to fight, but sometimes that was hard to do. She was already too dizzy to perform her usual spinning maneuvers, and the nausea felt like insult added to injury. It was everything she was afraid of happening, and beating on her opponent barely took the edge off of her anger. Ending it would allow her to fight again.
But she wanted it. And didn't want it. And wanted it.
The others saw how she was not up to her usual standard. Loki remained silent, watching her like a large-eyed shadow, silently beseeching her to keep it. Clint was as steady as ever beside her, never saying a word in public without her say-so. Steve questioned her with his eyes and the occasional offers to take a break. Tony and Thor outright asked if she was ill.
"I'm not sick," she finally said after a few days. Her stomach roiled, but she opened her mouth anyway. Fear had never been tolerated in the Red Room, and she regularly pushed herself past her fear; that was called bravery in some, but she considered it her natural state of being. "I'm pregnant."
A stunned hush fell over the group, until Tony muted the TV in the common room. "Wait," he said, frowning a little. "Did you just say...?"
"I'm pregnant," she repeated, now wishing she had remained silent. Her disgruntled expression would have forbade a lesser man from asking the usual follow up for that kind of announcement in a single, unattached woman.
But this was Tony Stark. He regularly ignored the rules of propriety, sometimes just to prove that he could. "Wait, wait. So who's the father?"
All eyes swiveled toward Natasha, a situation she was not comfortable with at all. What kind of spy drew attention to herself, after all? She lifted her chin and glared at Tony, which had made the skins of lesser men crawl. Even he was not immune, but it didn't curb his curiosity at all.
"That would only matter if I decide to keep it."
The hush took on a different quality now, the shock a little more tinged in doubt and dismay. "But why wouldn't you?" Tony asked, confused. He was the only one that seemed willing to voice the question. "Do you hate the father that much?"
"Hate has nothing to do with it," she replied darkly. "Not everything in the world is about a man and his dick, Tony."
He blinked in surprise at the venom in her voice and leaned back, away from her. The move gratified her a little. "What? What are we talking about here?"
"If I choose to keep the baby, it will have nothing to do with who the father is," she said, the venom still present. "It will have everything to do with whether or not I can still contribute to this team and if I can still function as the Black Widow."
"But how do you suppose you would not contribute?" Thor asked, cutting off Tony. He had been quiet until now, though she could see that her mention of aborting a child disturbed him. He didn't speak of Asgardian children much, so she had no idea what their culture thought of them. Unless she took Loki's longing into account, and she was sure that had more to do with his own perception of not having a family.
"A pregnancy will slow me down. I'll be out of commission. I can't back you all up on the field. It'll be worse than my performance now, and that's bad enough."
"You single handedly knocked out five of those goons four days ago," Steve supplied helpfully. He shrugged at her glare, as if to say Well, you did.
"It should have been eight to ten," Natasha replied tightly. "I was too slow, and I'm only going to slow down even more. I won't be able to do the maneuvers we're used to me doing, and I've already had some trouble with my take downs because I get too dizzy to make it useful. I'm not going to be able to run as fast as before, I won't be flexible as before. You're going to have to leave me behind because I can't contribute to the team and be out in the field."
"That's not your only worth, you know," Steve told her, voice soft.
Clint nodded at him gratefully, no doubt thinking I've been telling her that for years! He didn't say anything, however.
Loki looked at Natasha, a pained cast to his expression. He kept silent, however, not about to say anything that might anger her. He was standing in the back, apart from others, and it occurred to her that he looked very small somehow. Despite his height, his lanky form seemed to shrink and diminish as she stared at him. Not literally, though that would have made her life easier. It was as if she could see past the bluster far more easily now, that the layers of braided leather and gold armor and his aloof demeanor were merely thin shells she could peel apart.
She knew him now, for better or for worse. It was too easy to tell when he was upset, when his rage was ready to choke him, when he wanted to tear the world apart with his bare hands if only his magic could be let loose.
"I can't leave you hanging," she murmured. "Your expectation-"
"Is that you take care of yourself," Steve said, cutting her off. "You're too busy worrying about us, what we need. What do you need?"
That was the part that frightened her, really. She shouldn't need. She shouldn't want. That way led to pain and ruin, that way led to weakness. She couldn't be weak. She couldn't allow others to get the drop on her. Weakness wasn't allowed, was ruthlessly rooted out of the Red Room. Even the tiniest tendril could take root if left alone long enough, and the Red Room couldn't afford affection for anyone outside of the department.
It was only the tiniest flutter of her lips, the blink of an eye. Steve was on his feet in an instant, sweeping her up into a tight embrace. He was always too forgiving, too ready to think the best of her. Even Clint should know better, and there he was beside her. Tony held back, though the concern on his face told her how close he was to forgiving her for being Natalie Rushman. Bruce had warmed up to her, and was a friendly colleague who respected her skill and opinion. Thor thought her a shieldmaiden, a fellow warrior and friend, and no doubt would have crushed her in a hug if Steve hadn't gotten there first. Other friends of the team would have been there in an instant, too.
Pain blossomed in her chest, sharp and ugly, tearing down her resolve to remain aloof in front of them. They loved her, each in their own way, even though they should have known better.
And she loved them, too, though she would never say the words aloud. Somehow they had become important to her, a family she never thought she deserved.
"I shouldn't want," she managed to choke out. "I shouldn't need."
"Oh, Tasha," Steve murmured, sounding almost disappointed. Not in her, never in her, but that it had been drilled into her so mercilessly. It was the same way he couldn't ever get rid of his frugality or the way he looked to be sure that the others ate before he did, because he had been raised in a time of want.
"If you could have anything you wanted," Clint murmured softly, head bent to hers.
Natasha took a steadying breath and disengaged herself from their embraces. Her eyes met Loki's, and she saw his attempt to remain stoic. The others had all forgotten about him in their efforts to comfort her, and there was a fierce jealous note in his eyes. She wouldn't turn to him the way she could turn to Clint or Steve, he had to realize that, but emotions weren't rational things. He wanted fiercely, and that same skin hunger and desperation for companionship that she had capitalized on was still in place. Natasha doubted it was love in any sense of the word, but a need he didn't know how to fill with anyone else. The two of them were alike in many ways, and he would never be able to feel comfortable unless with someone similar. It would be a struggle, a sparring match where they were likely evenly matched, but that was the only way to win his respect and continuing affection.
She wasn't sure if she wanted his affection.
"If I could wish, if it mattered..."
She had her decision, she realized suddenly. She knew exactly what she wanted, if she could have it, and had been too afraid of the others' reactions. Seeing how they felt around her now dissolved the last of her hesitancy.
They wouldn't hate her, wouldn't think she was being selfish and cruel, wouldn't think she was leaving them behind, wouldn't think she was a horrible teammate.
"...I'd keep it," Natasha whispered. "I'd be horrible at it, but I'd like to try."
Relief in Loki's eyes was painful to look at. What was she doing, tying herself to him for the rest of her life? What was she thinking?
She wanted the feel of a kick inside her belly, the flutter of anticipation at meeting a child born of her body, the pain and agony and discontent of it all. She wanted what the Red Room had stolen from her when she hadn't realized what it could be worth. Having a child didn't make her special, didn't make her a woman, didn't make her more than or less than. It was simply something her body couldn't do before, but now it could. This was her choice, to experience this, to open herself to vulnerability and potential ruin, the madness of worry and sleepless nights, to feel the push and pull of humanity closer than she was used to having it.
This was her choice, hers alone. Natasha wanted, a frightening enough concept, and possibly could even get it.
Everyone crowded close, and she let them, just this once.
Natasha wanted. The Red Room would be so displeased with her if they still existed, and that sensation alone was enough to make this a triumph.
***
Loki stood outside of Natasha's suite, feeling lost and out of sorts. Natasha hadn't acknowledged him as the father, and had pushed off the others' questions about the baby's parentage. She even brushed off questions about her prenatal care, which he found most troubling. The conversation the entire group had about the baby hadn't been avoided, exactly, but he could tell that she wasn't entirely comfortable with their interest. That alone let him know exactly how out of sorts she was; she was too much a consummate liar to be unable to hide her responses. Everything was usually scripted and deliberate, as her behavior toward him on the helicarrier and her seduction had been. Yet now, her emotions were plain to see, she was vulnerable, and even he could see it. Loki doubted that he was a trusted ally as the others were. They had earned her trust. He had only earned a place in her bed.
Natasha opened the door and crashed bodily into him. Her eyes were wide and startled, lips parted. He wanted to kiss them, and his body responded to her proximity. It had been almost two weeks since they had last slept together, and he ached to touch her skin and inhale her scent. Was this love? Or simply desire that couldn't be met elsewhere? Could he even tell the difference? Could she?
"What are you doing here?"
"I came to inquire about your welfare."
"You don't have to."
"Is our association at an end, then?" he asked, emotion choking him.
She lofted an eyebrow at him. "I'm keeping it. Isn't that what you wanted?"
Yes. But with her as well, even if he couldn't find the words to tell her without making him sound like a mewling girl.
It must have been evident on his face, because she tilted her head to the side to contemplate him. "You want more. A relationship."
Loki had his hands sliding down her back before he could think about what he was doing or how to put a different spin to it. "Are you opposed to such a thing?"
There was no point about asking about forging a union. The term was archaic on this realm and she would likely say no anyway. She was too fiercely independent, and would likely see it as shackles tying her to an unwanted companion. The thought galled him, but Loki would have to accept that. Using magic to cloud her judgment of him, even if his magic wasn't curtailed, would be cheating. It would sour any relationship they might have had, and he would always know he couldn't have a real response.
"What are you looking for?" she asked instead.
He would have to say something, he realized. She didn't know Asgardian expectations, and the two of them had certainly never discussed any long term propositions.
"You are the mother of my child," he began slowly, painfully. "I would like to continue to call on you. To speak of its care. To..." He choked a little, but swallowed painfully and lifted his chin. "I would like it if you did not lie about its origins."
"Do you think I'd keep you from it?"
"You and your organization hold the terms of my contract." Was that bitterness in his tone? Damn, he hadn't been able to calm himself down. "I have few rights in this realm for the duration."
Natasha met his gaze, appearing to be just as uncomfortable as he felt. "I won't keep you from it," she said finally. "You've been upholding your end of the bargain with SHIELD, and you've been fair with me so far."
Loki wouldn't let her move away, his hands on her hips. "What do you want of this, Natasha?" he asked, her name rolling off of his tongue with a sensual lilt. "Are we never to touch again? Is that what happens on this realm?"
"What happens on Asgard?"
He frowned slightly. "Confinement lasts two to three of your years, depending on the health of the child. Ladies of the realm content themselves with that, don't go into society or concern themselves with the needs of men."
"Or is that their excuse to go look elsewhere for physical needs?" she asked archly.
"Most unions on Asgard are for political or financial gain, to maintain status or to join different Houses."
"So there's no emotional connection."
"Often, there is none." Loki paused, then licked his lips before speaking. "I don't think I'm incorrect in my belief that you can at least tolerate my presence."
"Considering I'm pregnant, yes, that's a safe assumption," she replied dryly.
"I would not go so far as to say there is affection," he continued, pretending she hadn't spoken. This was hard enough to say without her smart mouth. That smart mouth was rather how they got into this situation. "But I would like there to be something more than duty between us. I would be there for the child."
"You've said that before."
"It's not simply to coerce you to keep it," Loki insisted, staring at her earnestly. For someone that had been nicknamed Silvertongue, he was having remarkable trouble putting his ideas into words. "I would be there to aid you and comfort you, if you would allow it. If you want something more than cordial interactions."
"Is that your way of asking me if I still want to fuck you?"
"I would not put it in such a crass manner." At her amused smirk, he bristled. "I am treating you with the respect due to a member of a royal or noble House, a high jarl. It is an honor few outside Asgard receive. You will not belittle me over common courtesy!"
Natasha slid her hands across his chest. "Speak plainly, Loki. You've been here long enough to know that I don't like bullshit."
Loki kept himself stiff and tried to slip the aloof mask back on his face, but it didn't feel quite right anymore. His lips parted when Natasha reached up to touch his jaw gently, her eyes never leaving his. He wondered what he was to her, if he was nothing more than an inconvenience of he might mean something more. Not that it mattered. But it would be nice to mean something to somebody.
"I have only ever been an inconvenience to you. A monster to slip a halter upon. Is that not so? And now not only have you bedded the walking nightmare," he hissed, hand sliding down to cup her ass and pull her closer, "but my seed took root in your newly formed womb. A fact that you would have liked to erase if you could." His lips hovered an inch above hers. "That is truth enough, is it not?
"Sometimes, you are such a self-serving bastard," Natasha murmured. She hooked her leg around his and tilted her hips up to grind against his groin. Loki made a strangled sound, his hands tightening on her ass. He wanted to thrust into her, wanted to feel her tighten around his cock and hear her cry out in ecstasy. They got along then, no need for words, no battle for supremacy.
"Yet you cling to me."
"Or I'm just using you."
"There are simpler ways to get your physical satisfaction."
"Maybe they aren't satisfying."
With a groan, Loki seized her mouth in a kiss. It was wrong, he shouldn't want her, shouldn't dream of the way she had sounded and felt, the taste of her on his tongue when he woke. But he wanted her fiercely, needed to feel her body against his. It was a beautifully crafted weapon, one he longed to keep close.
"Holy shit. What am I seeing?"
Neither bothered to answer Tony, and after a moment, his mind whirred to the obvious conclusion. "Jesus, Natasha. You picked him to be the baby daddy? That poor kid. And I thought I was fucked up."
Loki was glad he didn't ask outright if he had manipulated her or found a way to work around the spelled cuffs. It was likely due to their faith in her manipulative skills, but that also meant he didn't have a fight on his hands.
He would rather keep them occupied with Natasha's luscious anatomy.
But after a moment she pulled away to snarl at him to mind his own business. Tony was not one to leave well enough alone, however, so Natasha ultimately detangled herself from Loki's arms to caution him away. It wasn't until Tony mentioned something about making horrible life decisions that Loki paid attention, anger rising beneath his skin. He suddenly wanted so much to get back at him for all the snide remarks he had ever made, the intimation he was less of a man, that he was horrid and useless and wanting in so many ways he could never measure up to.
And Tony was insulting Natasha. Loki might doubt whether or not he could trust the spy, but others insulting her would not be tolerated.
Forgetting about the cuffs, Loki started to sling a spell at Tony. It fizzled, then backfired, sending him flying down the hall away from them. He only stopped when his head hit the wall and then through it a ways; reinforced drywall was still drywall, and now he was stuck in it. He was also dizzy and nauseous from the aftereffects of a failed casting, and would have wobbled and fallen if he had been on his feet.
"What the hell was that about?" Natasha asked him later, when Bruce declared he had already recovered from his minor concussion and Thor had lectured him for hours on the proper way to deal with Midgardians.
"He insulted you," Loki said, dimly aware that he was sulking.
"So? You've insulted me, too."
True, but not his current intent at all. "He made me angry."
"So?" she prodded.
"I didn't like seeing him make fun of you," Loki snapped, eyes flashing in anger. Why did she keep picking at him like this? Why did it matter? The casting failed, the spell backfired, he was the one that got hurt.
"Loki..."
"I didn't think he would physically harm you," Loki huffed, turning away from her painful gaze, "if that was what you thought I was concerned about. But words are weapons as well. You of all people should know that."
"Of all the weapons ever made, the most powerful by far is compassion. But you have to have compassion for yourself before you can have it for anyone else."
Loki didn't say anything more, and let her leave the room. This entire situation was a tangled mess he wanted out of. It was easier when it was a simple fuck to take the edge off, when there weren't feelings or unwieldy remorse trying to break through his behavior patterns.
Besides, he knew she didn't have enough compassion for herself either.
***
***
To chapter Three - Bindings
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Loki/Natasha
Disclaimer: Not mine! Some comic backstory is incorporated into characterizations, but this is still primarily movieverse.
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-Avengers, AU to Thor 2.
This is the fault of phoenixrising06/
romanovasledger during all of our characterization discussions. Still, not sorry for this. :)
Summary: Natasha and Loki had a thing, no emotions or strings attached. Until they accidentally created one.
Prior chapter:
One - Accidents
Two - Decisions
Natasha knocked on the door to Clint's suite. The archer was lounging on the couch of his sitting room, playing a video game. She was amused to see that it was Assassin's Creed, and came in at his grunt of acknowledgement. Usually he played his games in the common room, but if he wanted to stay alone and not be social, he played in his own suite. Natasha was generally an exception to his "I don't want to talk to people" kind of mood, but this conversation might strike her name from that very short exception list.
"'Sup?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the screen.
She quietly shut the door and sat on the couch near him. Letting out a quiet breath, she decided it would be better to simply dive in and tell him. "I'm pregnant."
Clint was so startled, he fumbled the controller and dropped it. He ignored Altaïr falling and dying on the screen, gaping at Natasha. "Wait. I thought that wasn't even possible."
He knew everything about what the Red Room had done in gross terms, not needing details regarding training. Natasha had merely explained that steps were taken to ensure that no Widow was ever "lost" to pregnancy or nursing, wasting the valuable resources of the Red Room. Clint had never needed to know how she felt about it, as he could glean some of her feelings in just how she had explained it: matter-of-fact, a part of her history she couldn't erase and simply had to deal with. There was no point in having an opinion or emotions about it, because she couldn't change it.
But now things were different.
"It wasn't until Loki healed me with that spell. It reset everything in my body."
Blinking, he thought furiously. "That's why you were in so much pain. That's why even Loki couldn't explain what happened." Natasha nodded, somewhat unhappily. "How do you feel about that?" Clint asked carefully.
"I don't know."
"Tash..." Clint wheedled, shifting closer on the couch.
Natasha let her eyes shut and she sighed deeply. "I really don't know. I'm... I'm scared," she admitted finally, opening her eyes. "This wasn't supposed to be a possibility. I didn't even mourn it, you know. It was just another part of me, just some other fact to tell them when you brought me in." She couldn't quite keep her lips from trembling. "But now it's real. It's happening, and I don't know what to do about it."
"Meaning?" Clint asked, brows furrowed.
"I should abort it," Natasha said in a rush, hands clasped tightly in her lap. "I wouldn't be able to function on the team. I couldn't fight with you or Steve. I wouldn't be able to infiltrate places. I'd be useless, dead weight. And I'd be sick, uncomfortable, moody and off my game. And that's just if it's a normal pregnancy. As much as the spell should have reset my body, what if it didn't? What if something goes wrong and this kills me? Even in normal pregnancies, women can suffer."
Clint placed both of his hands over hers. "But," he began slowly, sensing that this wasn't all of her thoughts on the matter. "It's still your child, still part of you. And if you did that, would you be any better than the Red Room, pruning out the girls that couldn't make the cut?" He watched as Natasha bit her lip and nodded. "And this might be a way to show you're not as bad as you think you are."
"I couldn't be a mother. Not with the hours I keep, the job I want to have. How could I do that to a baby? Leave it somewhere, die, and then it's alone. How could I teach anyone the right way to be?"
"Because you're living it. Because you're even struggling with this decision." Clint's hands tightened over hers. "You're trying to consider all your options, not just getting rid of it without thinking about what would be best for everyone. That's what a parent does, Tash. Trust me, that kid is going to love you no matter what you do."
Natasha let out a choked sound and leaned forward until their foreheads touched. "You told me about..." Her voice trailed off. "I wouldn't do that, I know I wouldn't. But if anyone knew, and then decided to use it against me-"
"Who's the father?" Clint asked gently.
The choked sound now was more like a bark of laughter. "Loki."
Clint was very still. "What?"
"I was horny and I fucked him. A lot." The noise she made next was suspiciously like the kind of hiccup used to choke back a sob. "I don't even like him most of the time, but he was pretty damn good in bed."
"I really didn't need to hear that," Clint said dryly.
Now she laughed a little, but there was a bitter, lost edge to the sound. "He wants it."
"You told him."
"Right before I came here. I was so angry, I thought he did it on purpose. But that makes no sense, not if I really think about it." Now she didn't hide her sob. "I don't know what to do, Clint. I don't want it. But I want it. It's not any kind of practical, I shouldn't have it, I'd be a terrible role model..."
"Now hold it right there," Clint said firmly. "Choice of fuck buddy aside, you're an awesome role model. You made the decision to leave the life the Red Room trained you for, and that's hard as hell. The mercenary thing wasn't because you wanted to be that way, it's because they made you that way. And when you made your own decisions, really made them, you struggled to do the right thing. You're working to save lives, to keep people like Hydra or AIM or whatever else from hurting people. It's not because you have to, but because you want to. Because it's the right thing to do. Because you know exactly what they're capable of, and you want to stop it. That's pretty fucking heroic, Tasha, don't ever think it isn't. It's not an easy path you're on, but you do it without complaining."
"I have to balance my ledger."
"Yeah, but you are the one that gave you the ledger. It wasn't us."
Natasha shut her eyes tight and nodded. "But if I did keep it..."
"Do you think I'd let you do this alone if you wanted to keep it? Even if it's Loki's kid? Or Steve? Even Tony would help. Pepper and Rhodey would be all over this, you know. And good God, Thor. He'd be fucking ecstatic, like it's going to change Loki or some shit like that. Don't tell me it's not true."
She barked out her laughter and opened her eyes. "Maybe."
"Oh, fuck that," Clint huffed. "You know how they'll react to this. You know it better than I do." He pulled her into a tight hug. "It's okay if you're afraid, Natasha. You're only human. I'm fucking terrified for you right now."
"You are?"
"Yeah. That poor kid... A bunch of superheroes as its family. The entire world better treat it right or we'll bring 'em all to their knees."
Natasha laughed, body sagging against his in relief as she hugged him back tightly. "You're not mad at me?"
Clint sighed but didn't let go. "Honestly? Loki? The fuck were you thinking, Tash? If you wanted a baby daddy, I'd be the first to volunteer, you know." She smacked his arm and he yelped in pain. "What? It was fun, what we had. How come you didn't even ask this time around?"
She pulled out of his embrace and shrugged a little. "He was lonely and broken and I liked the look of those edges."
Sighing again, Clint shook his head. "This poor kid. You're not giving it the talk, okay?" At her blank look, he laughed. "The sex talk. Let's not warp the thing and having it look for the sorriest loser it can bang. That's just asking for trouble, really."
Natasha smacked him again, and he playfully yelped. "Shut up."
He grinned unrepentantly at her. After a moment, he sobered. "I know better than to ask if he hurt you, because I know he'd be dead right now. But... He didn't mess with your head, did he?" He relaxed when she shook her head. "Okay. I don't have to try to slit his throat, then."
"Are you sure you're okay with this?"
"Hell, no. But mostly because I figured that I'd be a loser of a father if I ever had a kid anyway. With my dad and Barney as role models?" Clint shook his head. "Some things just aren't worth the risk. But that's for planning it, you know. That doesn't mean I wouldn't try now."
"You're not the father," Natasha reminded him.
"Well, you're making me godfather, right? Even if you didn't do it officially, I'm not letting that kid out of my sight. With Loki as a baby daddy, we'd all want to make sure it's not fucked up."
Her lips wavered a bit, but she steeled herself not to cry. "What if I don't make it? Loki's not human. What if this doesn't even work and I'm worrying for nothing?"
"We'd still be here for you, Tash." Clint pulled her into a hug again and kissed the top of her head when she sniffled. "Whatever happens, whatever you decide."
She held onto him tightly. "Thank you." She sniffled and looked up at him with an almost plaintive expression. "I'd never want to lose you."
"No matter what you do, Tash, you never could."
***
Clint walked into the gym and saw Loki there going through stretches and forms that looked similar and different to tai chi or yoga. He pursed his lips, thought for about two seconds, then walked up to Loki and punched him with a strong right cross before the god could even open his mouth to ask what Clint was doing there. He looked down at Loki's sprawled form, the surprise bleeding into anger on his face. "That's for knocking up my best friend," he growled. "If anything happens to upset her, I've got arrows with your name on it, just waiting to fuck you up."
Loki touched his jaw and worked it a little, then stood. The anger still simmered in his eyes. "She was hardly innocent of those encounters."
"I'm aware," Clint said tightly. "Frankly, you make me sick, and I have no goddamn clue what she sees in you." He looked Loki up and down in disgust. "For the record, I think you'd be a terrible father."
"It's likely a moot point if she decides not to keep the child," Loki replied acidly. Clint could hear the pain in his voice, and decided to squelch any sympathy he might have on that front. Loki was a sociopathic killer. He still wasn't sorry for the deaths in Stuttgart or New York, and certainly had never cared for the Chitauri he had led. It was all about his own wants and needs. Even asking Natasha to keep the baby was because he wanted the child, not because she necessarily did.
"You're damn right, it's her decision. Can she even carry it to term? What's going to happen to a half human, half Jotun child? Is that even going to work?"
There was a tightening around Loki's lips that Clint had been looking for. So he had been worrying about that as well. Good. Clint hoped it kept him up at night. The bastard had to learn to consider others' needs sometime, and he sure as hell had to care about his own child. There were enough terrible fathers out there in the world.
"I would help with the child," Loki told him stiffly. "I will not abandon it, and I will not lie about its origins."
Ah, the sticking point. Clint had gotten the story piecemeal from Thor and his friends when they were ridiculously drunk on mead once. Add to that the vague bits he could remember while being possessed by Loki, and he had his own picture of what drove him to try to take over Earth. Still, it didn't excuse his actions, not by a long shot. He had wanted it made clear on every single SHIELD document that Loki was still a killer, still responsible for the thousands that were dead. Just because he helped the Avengers on missions out of duress didn't mean he was absolved of guilt.
"So is it going to be pale like Tash or blue?" Clint asked flatly.
Loki, already fairly pale, now looked downright sickly. "I'm not sure," he said slowly, as if the words were foreign to him. "I was born Jotun, but spells were placed upon my form as an infant." Each syllable was dragged out of him with great difficulty. "Then in the Void, much was changed or lost."
"Meaning?" Clint prompted when he fell silent.
"Meaning I know not if I count as Jotnar or Aesir."
Clint threw up his hands in frustration. "Great. Uber mutt, then. Tash is assuming the pregnancy would be as long as a human one. What is it for them?"
"An Aesir confinement can last between two or three of your years," Loki told him quietly. "I don't know what it would be for Jotnar, and most of them are destroyed."
"Destroyed," Clint echoed blankly.
"Their people were decimated before my arrival on this realm," Loki said dryly, though he couldn't meet Clint's eyes. Oh, great. More death at his hands?
"Awesome," Clint replied sarcastically. "So we don't have any idea what she'll be going through with this."
"No." Loki at least sounded appropriately concerned for Natasha.
There was no point in threatening him again if something happened. "Who would?"
"My mo-Frigga would possibly know," Loki said, catching himself before he called her mother. Really? Clint would have loved to have someone that supportive to call his own, but Loki was a contrary bastard. "I do not believe she would come to my aid."
"Well, she wouldn't be helping you," Clint snapped. "Whatever issues you've got with her, I don't give a shit. I only care what happens to Natasha."
Loki's eyes snapped to his, and Clint was surprised at the intensity of emotion there. "On that point, we are in agreement."
"So?"
"If Natasha decides she will carry the child, I will try to contact Frigga. I do not believe she will reply, but I will try."
Clint took in the stiff posture and nodded. "Okay, then."
Loki called out as he left the gym. "Did she tell you what she decided?"
Was that fear in his voice? Did he actually look about to cry?
No, couldn't be. Clint shook his head. "She's not sure. There's a little time yet before she has to decide, if it's like a human pregnancy."
He nodded stiffly at Clint, then turned away. The slope of his shoulders was one of defeat, however. That Clint could tell very clearly. He really did want this child, really did care what happened to Natasha and the baby.
Maybe he wouldn't completely suck as a father after all.
Though Clint thought of the distant way he had treated the mercenaries, the manic laughter and the sickly cast to his movements. He was still a selfish bastard. And maybe being a good dad was still a selfish thing, Clint didn't know. But then, not every good dad was a good person.
Loki didn't say anything else, and merely stood there with his back to Clint and his head and shoulders bowed. Without anything else to say, Clint left the room.
***
Natasha at first thought she would be one of those women that didn't get morning sickness. That was a misnomer, though. It was more like "any time of day but especially when it was really damn inconvenient" sickness. She had to push past the nausea to fight, but sometimes that was hard to do. She was already too dizzy to perform her usual spinning maneuvers, and the nausea felt like insult added to injury. It was everything she was afraid of happening, and beating on her opponent barely took the edge off of her anger. Ending it would allow her to fight again.
But she wanted it. And didn't want it. And wanted it.
The others saw how she was not up to her usual standard. Loki remained silent, watching her like a large-eyed shadow, silently beseeching her to keep it. Clint was as steady as ever beside her, never saying a word in public without her say-so. Steve questioned her with his eyes and the occasional offers to take a break. Tony and Thor outright asked if she was ill.
"I'm not sick," she finally said after a few days. Her stomach roiled, but she opened her mouth anyway. Fear had never been tolerated in the Red Room, and she regularly pushed herself past her fear; that was called bravery in some, but she considered it her natural state of being. "I'm pregnant."
A stunned hush fell over the group, until Tony muted the TV in the common room. "Wait," he said, frowning a little. "Did you just say...?"
"I'm pregnant," she repeated, now wishing she had remained silent. Her disgruntled expression would have forbade a lesser man from asking the usual follow up for that kind of announcement in a single, unattached woman.
But this was Tony Stark. He regularly ignored the rules of propriety, sometimes just to prove that he could. "Wait, wait. So who's the father?"
All eyes swiveled toward Natasha, a situation she was not comfortable with at all. What kind of spy drew attention to herself, after all? She lifted her chin and glared at Tony, which had made the skins of lesser men crawl. Even he was not immune, but it didn't curb his curiosity at all.
"That would only matter if I decide to keep it."
The hush took on a different quality now, the shock a little more tinged in doubt and dismay. "But why wouldn't you?" Tony asked, confused. He was the only one that seemed willing to voice the question. "Do you hate the father that much?"
"Hate has nothing to do with it," she replied darkly. "Not everything in the world is about a man and his dick, Tony."
He blinked in surprise at the venom in her voice and leaned back, away from her. The move gratified her a little. "What? What are we talking about here?"
"If I choose to keep the baby, it will have nothing to do with who the father is," she said, the venom still present. "It will have everything to do with whether or not I can still contribute to this team and if I can still function as the Black Widow."
"But how do you suppose you would not contribute?" Thor asked, cutting off Tony. He had been quiet until now, though she could see that her mention of aborting a child disturbed him. He didn't speak of Asgardian children much, so she had no idea what their culture thought of them. Unless she took Loki's longing into account, and she was sure that had more to do with his own perception of not having a family.
"A pregnancy will slow me down. I'll be out of commission. I can't back you all up on the field. It'll be worse than my performance now, and that's bad enough."
"You single handedly knocked out five of those goons four days ago," Steve supplied helpfully. He shrugged at her glare, as if to say Well, you did.
"It should have been eight to ten," Natasha replied tightly. "I was too slow, and I'm only going to slow down even more. I won't be able to do the maneuvers we're used to me doing, and I've already had some trouble with my take downs because I get too dizzy to make it useful. I'm not going to be able to run as fast as before, I won't be flexible as before. You're going to have to leave me behind because I can't contribute to the team and be out in the field."
"That's not your only worth, you know," Steve told her, voice soft.
Clint nodded at him gratefully, no doubt thinking I've been telling her that for years! He didn't say anything, however.
Loki looked at Natasha, a pained cast to his expression. He kept silent, however, not about to say anything that might anger her. He was standing in the back, apart from others, and it occurred to her that he looked very small somehow. Despite his height, his lanky form seemed to shrink and diminish as she stared at him. Not literally, though that would have made her life easier. It was as if she could see past the bluster far more easily now, that the layers of braided leather and gold armor and his aloof demeanor were merely thin shells she could peel apart.
She knew him now, for better or for worse. It was too easy to tell when he was upset, when his rage was ready to choke him, when he wanted to tear the world apart with his bare hands if only his magic could be let loose.
"I can't leave you hanging," she murmured. "Your expectation-"
"Is that you take care of yourself," Steve said, cutting her off. "You're too busy worrying about us, what we need. What do you need?"
That was the part that frightened her, really. She shouldn't need. She shouldn't want. That way led to pain and ruin, that way led to weakness. She couldn't be weak. She couldn't allow others to get the drop on her. Weakness wasn't allowed, was ruthlessly rooted out of the Red Room. Even the tiniest tendril could take root if left alone long enough, and the Red Room couldn't afford affection for anyone outside of the department.
It was only the tiniest flutter of her lips, the blink of an eye. Steve was on his feet in an instant, sweeping her up into a tight embrace. He was always too forgiving, too ready to think the best of her. Even Clint should know better, and there he was beside her. Tony held back, though the concern on his face told her how close he was to forgiving her for being Natalie Rushman. Bruce had warmed up to her, and was a friendly colleague who respected her skill and opinion. Thor thought her a shieldmaiden, a fellow warrior and friend, and no doubt would have crushed her in a hug if Steve hadn't gotten there first. Other friends of the team would have been there in an instant, too.
Pain blossomed in her chest, sharp and ugly, tearing down her resolve to remain aloof in front of them. They loved her, each in their own way, even though they should have known better.
And she loved them, too, though she would never say the words aloud. Somehow they had become important to her, a family she never thought she deserved.
"I shouldn't want," she managed to choke out. "I shouldn't need."
"Oh, Tasha," Steve murmured, sounding almost disappointed. Not in her, never in her, but that it had been drilled into her so mercilessly. It was the same way he couldn't ever get rid of his frugality or the way he looked to be sure that the others ate before he did, because he had been raised in a time of want.
"If you could have anything you wanted," Clint murmured softly, head bent to hers.
Natasha took a steadying breath and disengaged herself from their embraces. Her eyes met Loki's, and she saw his attempt to remain stoic. The others had all forgotten about him in their efforts to comfort her, and there was a fierce jealous note in his eyes. She wouldn't turn to him the way she could turn to Clint or Steve, he had to realize that, but emotions weren't rational things. He wanted fiercely, and that same skin hunger and desperation for companionship that she had capitalized on was still in place. Natasha doubted it was love in any sense of the word, but a need he didn't know how to fill with anyone else. The two of them were alike in many ways, and he would never be able to feel comfortable unless with someone similar. It would be a struggle, a sparring match where they were likely evenly matched, but that was the only way to win his respect and continuing affection.
She wasn't sure if she wanted his affection.
"If I could wish, if it mattered..."
She had her decision, she realized suddenly. She knew exactly what she wanted, if she could have it, and had been too afraid of the others' reactions. Seeing how they felt around her now dissolved the last of her hesitancy.
They wouldn't hate her, wouldn't think she was being selfish and cruel, wouldn't think she was leaving them behind, wouldn't think she was a horrible teammate.
"...I'd keep it," Natasha whispered. "I'd be horrible at it, but I'd like to try."
Relief in Loki's eyes was painful to look at. What was she doing, tying herself to him for the rest of her life? What was she thinking?
She wanted the feel of a kick inside her belly, the flutter of anticipation at meeting a child born of her body, the pain and agony and discontent of it all. She wanted what the Red Room had stolen from her when she hadn't realized what it could be worth. Having a child didn't make her special, didn't make her a woman, didn't make her more than or less than. It was simply something her body couldn't do before, but now it could. This was her choice, to experience this, to open herself to vulnerability and potential ruin, the madness of worry and sleepless nights, to feel the push and pull of humanity closer than she was used to having it.
This was her choice, hers alone. Natasha wanted, a frightening enough concept, and possibly could even get it.
Everyone crowded close, and she let them, just this once.
Natasha wanted. The Red Room would be so displeased with her if they still existed, and that sensation alone was enough to make this a triumph.
***
Loki stood outside of Natasha's suite, feeling lost and out of sorts. Natasha hadn't acknowledged him as the father, and had pushed off the others' questions about the baby's parentage. She even brushed off questions about her prenatal care, which he found most troubling. The conversation the entire group had about the baby hadn't been avoided, exactly, but he could tell that she wasn't entirely comfortable with their interest. That alone let him know exactly how out of sorts she was; she was too much a consummate liar to be unable to hide her responses. Everything was usually scripted and deliberate, as her behavior toward him on the helicarrier and her seduction had been. Yet now, her emotions were plain to see, she was vulnerable, and even he could see it. Loki doubted that he was a trusted ally as the others were. They had earned her trust. He had only earned a place in her bed.
Natasha opened the door and crashed bodily into him. Her eyes were wide and startled, lips parted. He wanted to kiss them, and his body responded to her proximity. It had been almost two weeks since they had last slept together, and he ached to touch her skin and inhale her scent. Was this love? Or simply desire that couldn't be met elsewhere? Could he even tell the difference? Could she?
"What are you doing here?"
"I came to inquire about your welfare."
"You don't have to."
"Is our association at an end, then?" he asked, emotion choking him.
She lofted an eyebrow at him. "I'm keeping it. Isn't that what you wanted?"
Yes. But with her as well, even if he couldn't find the words to tell her without making him sound like a mewling girl.
It must have been evident on his face, because she tilted her head to the side to contemplate him. "You want more. A relationship."
Loki had his hands sliding down her back before he could think about what he was doing or how to put a different spin to it. "Are you opposed to such a thing?"
There was no point about asking about forging a union. The term was archaic on this realm and she would likely say no anyway. She was too fiercely independent, and would likely see it as shackles tying her to an unwanted companion. The thought galled him, but Loki would have to accept that. Using magic to cloud her judgment of him, even if his magic wasn't curtailed, would be cheating. It would sour any relationship they might have had, and he would always know he couldn't have a real response.
"What are you looking for?" she asked instead.
He would have to say something, he realized. She didn't know Asgardian expectations, and the two of them had certainly never discussed any long term propositions.
"You are the mother of my child," he began slowly, painfully. "I would like to continue to call on you. To speak of its care. To..." He choked a little, but swallowed painfully and lifted his chin. "I would like it if you did not lie about its origins."
"Do you think I'd keep you from it?"
"You and your organization hold the terms of my contract." Was that bitterness in his tone? Damn, he hadn't been able to calm himself down. "I have few rights in this realm for the duration."
Natasha met his gaze, appearing to be just as uncomfortable as he felt. "I won't keep you from it," she said finally. "You've been upholding your end of the bargain with SHIELD, and you've been fair with me so far."
Loki wouldn't let her move away, his hands on her hips. "What do you want of this, Natasha?" he asked, her name rolling off of his tongue with a sensual lilt. "Are we never to touch again? Is that what happens on this realm?"
"What happens on Asgard?"
He frowned slightly. "Confinement lasts two to three of your years, depending on the health of the child. Ladies of the realm content themselves with that, don't go into society or concern themselves with the needs of men."
"Or is that their excuse to go look elsewhere for physical needs?" she asked archly.
"Most unions on Asgard are for political or financial gain, to maintain status or to join different Houses."
"So there's no emotional connection."
"Often, there is none." Loki paused, then licked his lips before speaking. "I don't think I'm incorrect in my belief that you can at least tolerate my presence."
"Considering I'm pregnant, yes, that's a safe assumption," she replied dryly.
"I would not go so far as to say there is affection," he continued, pretending she hadn't spoken. This was hard enough to say without her smart mouth. That smart mouth was rather how they got into this situation. "But I would like there to be something more than duty between us. I would be there for the child."
"You've said that before."
"It's not simply to coerce you to keep it," Loki insisted, staring at her earnestly. For someone that had been nicknamed Silvertongue, he was having remarkable trouble putting his ideas into words. "I would be there to aid you and comfort you, if you would allow it. If you want something more than cordial interactions."
"Is that your way of asking me if I still want to fuck you?"
"I would not put it in such a crass manner." At her amused smirk, he bristled. "I am treating you with the respect due to a member of a royal or noble House, a high jarl. It is an honor few outside Asgard receive. You will not belittle me over common courtesy!"
Natasha slid her hands across his chest. "Speak plainly, Loki. You've been here long enough to know that I don't like bullshit."
Loki kept himself stiff and tried to slip the aloof mask back on his face, but it didn't feel quite right anymore. His lips parted when Natasha reached up to touch his jaw gently, her eyes never leaving his. He wondered what he was to her, if he was nothing more than an inconvenience of he might mean something more. Not that it mattered. But it would be nice to mean something to somebody.
"I have only ever been an inconvenience to you. A monster to slip a halter upon. Is that not so? And now not only have you bedded the walking nightmare," he hissed, hand sliding down to cup her ass and pull her closer, "but my seed took root in your newly formed womb. A fact that you would have liked to erase if you could." His lips hovered an inch above hers. "That is truth enough, is it not?
"Sometimes, you are such a self-serving bastard," Natasha murmured. She hooked her leg around his and tilted her hips up to grind against his groin. Loki made a strangled sound, his hands tightening on her ass. He wanted to thrust into her, wanted to feel her tighten around his cock and hear her cry out in ecstasy. They got along then, no need for words, no battle for supremacy.
"Yet you cling to me."
"Or I'm just using you."
"There are simpler ways to get your physical satisfaction."
"Maybe they aren't satisfying."
With a groan, Loki seized her mouth in a kiss. It was wrong, he shouldn't want her, shouldn't dream of the way she had sounded and felt, the taste of her on his tongue when he woke. But he wanted her fiercely, needed to feel her body against his. It was a beautifully crafted weapon, one he longed to keep close.
"Holy shit. What am I seeing?"
Neither bothered to answer Tony, and after a moment, his mind whirred to the obvious conclusion. "Jesus, Natasha. You picked him to be the baby daddy? That poor kid. And I thought I was fucked up."
Loki was glad he didn't ask outright if he had manipulated her or found a way to work around the spelled cuffs. It was likely due to their faith in her manipulative skills, but that also meant he didn't have a fight on his hands.
He would rather keep them occupied with Natasha's luscious anatomy.
But after a moment she pulled away to snarl at him to mind his own business. Tony was not one to leave well enough alone, however, so Natasha ultimately detangled herself from Loki's arms to caution him away. It wasn't until Tony mentioned something about making horrible life decisions that Loki paid attention, anger rising beneath his skin. He suddenly wanted so much to get back at him for all the snide remarks he had ever made, the intimation he was less of a man, that he was horrid and useless and wanting in so many ways he could never measure up to.
And Tony was insulting Natasha. Loki might doubt whether or not he could trust the spy, but others insulting her would not be tolerated.
Forgetting about the cuffs, Loki started to sling a spell at Tony. It fizzled, then backfired, sending him flying down the hall away from them. He only stopped when his head hit the wall and then through it a ways; reinforced drywall was still drywall, and now he was stuck in it. He was also dizzy and nauseous from the aftereffects of a failed casting, and would have wobbled and fallen if he had been on his feet.
"What the hell was that about?" Natasha asked him later, when Bruce declared he had already recovered from his minor concussion and Thor had lectured him for hours on the proper way to deal with Midgardians.
"He insulted you," Loki said, dimly aware that he was sulking.
"So? You've insulted me, too."
True, but not his current intent at all. "He made me angry."
"So?" she prodded.
"I didn't like seeing him make fun of you," Loki snapped, eyes flashing in anger. Why did she keep picking at him like this? Why did it matter? The casting failed, the spell backfired, he was the one that got hurt.
"Loki..."
"I didn't think he would physically harm you," Loki huffed, turning away from her painful gaze, "if that was what you thought I was concerned about. But words are weapons as well. You of all people should know that."
"Of all the weapons ever made, the most powerful by far is compassion. But you have to have compassion for yourself before you can have it for anyone else."
Loki didn't say anything more, and let her leave the room. This entire situation was a tangled mess he wanted out of. It was easier when it was a simple fuck to take the edge off, when there weren't feelings or unwieldy remorse trying to break through his behavior patterns.
Besides, he knew she didn't have enough compassion for herself either.
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To chapter Three - Bindings