#my roommate says that my superpower is pouring and downing drinks without anyone noticing

[jonathanrook]

being an adult is so good i just went to my roommate's family's memorial day party so i could get drunk for free

[hopelessromanticspoonie]

To Keep You Safe

Title: You committed, I’m your crime

Chapter: 4/?

Author: hopeless_romantic_spoonie

Summary: Life as the assistant to Tony Stark was busy, but boring. All of that changed when I touched something I shouldn’t have and woke up with strange new abilities. If I thought that trying to figure out my new place in life as an Avenger was tough, I had no idea what was in store for me once I ran into the frustrating God of Mischief, Loki. 

Rating: E (later on)

Notes: Reminder that this is un-Beta’d, so please excuse any typos or grammatical errors I no doubt missed upon my revisions!

Also on Ao3 here :)

Warnings for this chapter: Language, blood, injury, destruction

~~~

After my little stunt on the roof, Tony decided my superpower training with Wanda needed to begin immediately. Waiting until I fully healed wasn’t an option if I was going to destroy the Compound with a–totally justified–mood swing.

Wanda did her very best in trying to help me figure this whole geokinesis thing out. She was patient and didn’t give up on me even when I gathered my hair in my hands and shrieked in frustration. She ignored any bellyaching or whining I sent her way and remained the ever-supportive tutor. Through our combined perseverance, I slowly became aware of the constant thrumming inside me, like a thousand bees buzzing just beneath my skin that got really pissed off when I was surrounded by nature or experienced heightened emotions. We worked for hours outside each day, her coaching me to harness my emotions and funnel them outward properly–AKA not mindless destruction of expensive property and killing of houseplants. It was frustratingly easy for her. She’d been working on her powers for years, while I’d had less than a week.

It was exhausting work, and I hadn’t even started fight training with Nat yet. That woman was going to kick my ass six ways to Sunday, and to say I was dreading it was an understatement of epic proportions. I collapsed into bed each night and passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow, often forgetting to shower or eat until I woke up disgusting and ravenous the next morning. It was easy to understand some of my new roommates’ preference for protein drinks. I chugged them down on my way to the lawn in the middle of the Compound each morning, forcing myself to get something in my system before we began.

Half of the time I just looked constipated as I stared at leaves or small rocks, willing them to do what I commanded and getting discouraged as the wind proved more effective. Then something would move, but not how I wanted, and we’d have to try again but harder or differently. It wasn’t a very satisfying process, to say the least.

I even had some meetings with Bruce. He knew more than anyone how important it was to keep a handle on strong emotions and, since that seemed to be a huge trigger for me and I refused to let Tony hire an actual professional about it, offered to help me out as best as he could.

“Jen, what seems to set off your anger the most?” Bruce asked kindly during one of our ‘sessions’. Sitting in his office of neutral warm beige and soft lighting, He might as well be my therapist. With him perched across from me in a tasteful armchair and me cross-legged on a plush couch, we at least looked the part. All he was missing was a clipboard and look of feigned interest. But if it meant less destructive outbursts and my eventual freedom I’d pour my guts out to him all day long.

“Loki.” The answer came without hesitation. That Asgardian serpent knew how to get under my skin like nothing else, and always took advantage of that fact at the worst time. Although to be fair, he did make everything worse when he deemed us worthy of his presence, so it wasn’t just me.

“Why does he bother you so much? He can’t hurt you, not here. He’s stuck on base so we can keep an eye on him, so he has to play nice. And you’re getting better at controlling your powers, so you can fight back. He only has the power to hurt you because you let him.”

The truthful answer immediately sprang to mind, but I hesitated, sucking my bottom lip between my teeth and staring at the floor. I didn’t talk about my past. Bruce was a great guy, and he wouldn’t judge me, but talking about it meant feeling it again, and I wasn’t so great with that feeling thing people were supposed to do. Much easier to work myself to death and pass out to some fun nightmares, then repeat. But to make him explain the deeply rooted loathing that I harbored for Loki, I’d have to give him some sort of explanation.

When I looked up to him, hoping that he would just let it go, the curious concern on his face appeared well and truly settled onto his worn features. He even sank further into the cushioned chair, as if he could wait all day for me to reply. “He’s an annoying little shit,” I tried, internally crossing my fingers that he’d believe my easy and obvious answer.

“We all know that. But he also doesn’t make us angry enough that we break an entire wall of windows or kill a tree just by walking by it.”

Oops.

“His face is just really punchable?” I tried again. Going by the unchanged expression on his face, it didn’t work.

Damn. Guess it was honesty time.

“He destroyed my life years ago. Seeing his smirking face every day just rubs it in. He shouldn’t be free to roam around after what he did,” I mumbled quickly, staring down at my hands twisting in my lap. I had taken to carrying a palm-sized pointed stone in my pocket at all times. It gave me something to practice with when I was idle, and the paranoid side of me knew that I might one day need some sort of weapon I could manipulate while surrounded by man-made materials. I fiddled with it now, turning it over in my fingers and rubbing one side absentmindedly with my thumb. Anything to avoid looking at Bruce as he peeled away my protective layers to reveal my soft, gooey insides.

“The Battle of New York? Tony told me you worked at Stark Tower when it happened. But you’re here. You’re safe. He didn’t hurt you, and if he did, it wasn’t permanent,” Bruce soothed, his voice laced with sincere compassion.

“He didn’t hurt me, no.”

“I know that trauma can linger for years after-”

“I don’t have PTSD. Tony paid for me to see a therapist after the attack, and I worked though the trauma of the situation. I’m not afraid of that happening again,” I muttered, clenching the rock tightly as I looked up to him. Anger was simmering just beneath my skin, mixing unpleasantly with deep grief that I did my best to keep safely stored away at the back of my mind at all times.

“If you don’t have lingering trauma, and you aren’t permanently injured, how did Loki destroy your life?” Bruce prodded, digging deeper and deeper. “Without getting to the root of this issue, it’s never going to get better.”

“He took it from me.”

“I don’t understa-”

“He took it from me!,” I snapped and stood up, my anger boiling over as my free hand reached into my grey sweater and pulled out the golden necklace always around my neck. I stepped closer so that Bruce could see the small circular pendant. Etched into the gold were the shaky whorls of a thumbprint. My other hand gripped the stone so tightly that the edges drew blood from my palm, but I didn’t care. All I could feel were the tears pricking my eyes and the swarm of bees searching for release from beneath my skin.

“He took them from me. My mom. My dad. Michael, my twin brother. I see his face every day in the mirror and feel him around my neck, and I see their mangled bodies that I was forced to identify every time I look at his smug, arrogant asshole face! And he just gets to walk free around this place like he didn’t kill hundreds of people that day, and wreck the lives of those left behind! He feels nothing for what he did,” I shouted, my rapid-fire words tearing from my throat in an impressive shriek.

I turned away from Bruce to avoid the pity I knew I would see. It would be the same look that I got whenever I told anybody the story, which is exactly why I didn’t mention it. Ever. I stared up at the ceiling and blinked back the tears that threatened to spill down my face. Without waiting for his response I stormed from the room, leaving a stunned Dr. Banner in my wake.

Outside his office I jogged up the stairs, my eyes downcast as I focused on just getting away from that room. From the words I hadn’t spoken out loud in years to anyone. Speaking it made it real again, and that ache ripping my heart to shreds was one I wanted to avoid if at all possible. So preoccupied with my retreat and holding myself together, I didn’t notice the wall of pure muscle coming down the stairs until I ran straight into it.

“Milady! How are yo-what is wrong?” Thor went from surprised and happy to worry in an instant as I stumbled against him. His hands gripped my upper arms to steady me as he stooped down to take in my red blotchy face, the tears that had slipped down my cheeks, and the blood slowly dripping from my hand. “What happened?”

I lifted my bloodshot eyes to his, searching for pity and coming up empty. Only careful regard and fierce protectiveness furrowed his brow. Rubbing the back of my injured hand against my cheeks, I shook my head harshly. “Ask your brother,” I croaked, pulling away from him and rushing up the stairs.

“Loki!” The booming voice of Thor shook the art upon the walls like the thunder he commanded as he stormed away in the opposite direction. Good. Maybe he could knock that shit-eating grin off his face. If anyone could handle Loki, it was his brother.

I paid no attention to the assembled Avengers in the kitchen, even after Steve and Vision called after me. I needed to get to a safe place, one without rocks or plants or anything else my powers could use as a projectile. I barged inside my room without uttering a word. After my incident on the roof with the windows, I’d come back to find all of the decorative plants removed from my room. At first, I’d been insulted, but critical thinking made me realize it was for the best. The only weapon in my bedroom was the rock clutched in my hand and my body wasn’t going to fight itself for it.

I hadn’t even taken three steps into the room before I heard banging on my door.

“Pebbles, let’s talk, kid. Why is Thor trying to rearrange Loki’s face?” Tony’s frustrated voice projected into my room through F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s speakers installed in the ceiling. Our rooms weren’t fully soundproof, but regular shouting was barely audible through the thick walls and heavy door. The blood rushing through my ears didn’t help matters, either.

I stared up at the nearest speaker in silence, focusing on tamping down the roaring in my ears and itching beneath my skin. I wasn’t going to open that door until I had myself under control, and a chat with Tony wasn’t going to suddenly undo all of the hurt that I fought daily to keep bottled away inside.

“Pebbles?,” I called out, picking up on the new nickname and ignoring his question purposefully.

“Pebbles. You can throw tiny rocks around. It’s cute.” I picked up on the smirk in his voice followed a couple of heavy bangs on the door. “Now open the door and let’s hash this out, Pebbles.”

“I’m good.” I threw myself dramatically down onto my bed. I was not in the mood to deal with Tony right now. I just needed to sit and stew and maybe break a few things. Then it’d all be fine and I could go on my merry way of stunted emotions and repressed thoughts.

“No can do. Gotta be a grown-up and talk it out,” his firm, no-nonsense voice grated on my agitated nerves.

Talk it out? No thanks.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. Leave. Me. Alone,” I replied, directing my words and a pillow at the continuous banging on the door. As soon as the pillow thumped uselessly against it, the echoing knocks stopped.

“But I do, Jen,” came Wanda’s soft voice through the speaker. Bruce must have gotten her.

“Ugh.” I stood up, wiping away the last of my tears from my face as I went to the door. Taking a deep breath and blowing it out through my mouth, I opened the door. Thankfully, only Wanda and Tony stood on the other side. The rest of the gang must have gone to watch the spectacle I’m sure Thor and Loki were making. The disappointment on Tony’s face cut me to my core, so I averted my gaze to Wanda. She offered me a sympathetic smile, cocking her head toward the room behind me. I stepped aside and let her through with a flourish of my hand.

I groaned in defeat and looked up at a frowning Tony. “Tell Thor to back off. I’m sure he’s done enough damage as it is,” I muttered, dropping my chin to my chest and closing the door on him.

I turned around to find Wanda sitting on the couch, her elbows on her knees and her hands clasped in front of her. It was still surreal to have The Scarlet Witch just hanging out in my bedroom, even after daily training sessions for over a week.

“You know that I had a brother. Pietro,” she spoke softly, her eyes trained on me as I crossed over to sit beside her. “I also lost him because of another’s hatred. And it is a knife in my chest that never goes away. Sometimes I forget that it’s there, but then it comes back sharper and more painful than ever. But I can’t let that control me.”

I walked over and plopped down beside her with a thoughtful frown. I could feel my slick blood on the stone’s surface as I worried it, but the stinging in my hand was inconsequential to the turmoil inside. It could be taken care of later. “That’s easier said than done,” I muttered.

Wanda raised a hand covered in red light, twisting it. My bathroom door opened, and then I heard my medicine cabinet open and close. The first aid kit found in each bathroom of the Compound, because Tony knows his guests and their occupational hazards, levitated out and into her waiting hand. She gently took the rock from me and set it on the coffee table in front of us so she could tend to my injury with gentle touches as she spoke.

“It is. And I also thought that getting revenge for his loss would make me feel better. I ripped out the heart of Ultron. I watched him die, and the pain didn’t lessen. I still woke up reaching for him each morning and looking for him first when I needed to talk. It doesn’t fix the pain, Jen,” she murmured, dabbing at the small but plentiful cuts on my hand with a cleansing wipe.

“I have to see him every day. He gets to be free around this base without any issue,” I spat, clenching my teeth against the sting of the antibacterial solution.

“Being trapped isn’t without its downsides. Besides, I know for a fact that Thor is giving him a sound lesson as we speak. He has tried to atone for his mistakes,” she pushed, unwrapping a set of bandages and slowly rewrapping them around my hand.

She was at least right about one thing. From the crashes of thunder and darkening sky, the anger a certain God of Thunder currently held for Loki was made clear.

“It’s not enough,” I replied, my extreme emotions slowly fading to leave me feeling drained more than anything else. My usual state after the Battle, to be honest.

“Would you see him dead? If given the opportunity, would you take this rock and drive it through his heart? Honestly?” She finished up the dressing with a piece of medical tape to hold everything in place. Undeterred by my drying blood on the rock, she picked it up and held it out to me.

“I… don’t know,” I whispered, taking the heavy stone from her slowly and staring at it to avoid her knowing gaze.

“I don’t think you’re a murderer, Jen. And I’ve met several of them,” Wanda offered and stood up with a heavy sigh. “I’m not telling you that you’re not allowed to feel this. But you won’t like the person that you turn into if it’s all that you feel.” She squeezed my shoulder before leaving me alone with my conflicted thoughts.

I gathered the bloodied medical supplies and took them to the trash before walking to stand before the floor-to-ceiling windows of my room. Thor must have found Loki outside, as there were scorch marks on the ground and twisted remnants of metal benches scattered around the open green lawn.

I wasn’t a murderer. That I knew deep down inside. If Loki was powerless before me right now and I had a gun to his temple, I wouldn’t be able to pull the trigger. I couldn’t have that blood on my conscience. Did I want him to know my pain? Yeah, for sure. He showed no remorse for his actions. He sauntered around like he owned the place, as if the feelings of others were inconsequential and insignificant.

But he didn’t deserve to die. If anything, he deserved to grapple with the guilt of the lives he ruined for the rest of his immortal life. And maybe an occasional beating from his incredibly strong brother. But if he was going to learn from his mistakes, he at least needed to know what he did wrong first.

“Shit, I have to talk to Loki,” I groaned, dropping my forehead against the cool glass in front of me.

~~~

I stayed in my room for the rest of the day. Wanda must have told everyone to give me some space as no one came to bother me. During that time, I practiced. I sat on my bed, staring at my blood-stained rock and forcing it to move around the room, to do what I wanted it to and not lose control. Hours passed with my fighting the weariness of my mind and body until the natural light outside my room disappeared and was replaced with cool blue moonlight.

If there was any time to find Loki, it was now. His displeasure for the company of the Avengers wasn’t exactly a secret, leaving him to do the majority of his skulking around after hours. After his fight earlier with Thor, I knew he’d want to confront me. He wasn’t one to just take something lying down. All I needed to do was leave the sanctuary of my room.

After I stowed my rock inside my pocket, I threw on a pair of black tennis shoes and put my disheveled dark hair into a ponytail. The hum of electricity and fan of the heating system were the only sounds in the Compound other than my steps ringing firmly on the stairs as I jogged up to the roof. It was one of my favorite places and I was banking on that being common knowledge. I settled onto a large boulder in the middle of the garden, my back to the roof access door, and waited. He’d come.

“I should drive this knife through your throat right now,” Loki’s low silken voice was in my ear the second I felt two lean arms constrict around me, one around my shoulders to yank me against his rigid chest, and the other holding said knife to the soft skin of my neck. 

That didn’t take long.

“Why don’t you?” I ground out, stretching my head back against his shoulder to keep the blade from nicking my skin. I was engulfed by his presence. From the feeling of his taut body against my back to the heady scent of leather and spice, to his breath blowing across my ear, I was surrounded.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he hissed, the dagger around my neck disappearing as if it had never existed. His hands went to my shoulders and roughly spun me around before one went to my throat. He squeezed, not enough to cut off my air, but enough to let me know that he was the one in control of the situation. I swallowed and felt his hand shift over the nervous movement of my neck.

In the softly lit garden, I could just make out the damage Thor had done to him. The rolled-up sleeves of his dark button-down did little to hide the bruising blows that must have gotten through his armor, and his strikingly handsome face looked dreadful. Cuts marred his sharp cheekbones, and a large black eye only served to highlight the malice in his piercing emerald eyes.

Handsome? Nope, I didn’t just think that about the man threatening to strangle me.

Still, I couldn’t appear too weak. Calling upon the energy pulsing beneath my skin, I beckoned the sharpened, blood-stained rock from my pocket and put it to his own throat. My hours of practice that I had put myself through earlier showed in the slight tremor it gave in the air, but I dug deep to maintain it’s threatening position against his pulse. I would never do more, press it any harder, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Why did you send my brother to fight me?” he asked, glancing at my makeshift weapon with no concern before shifting his manic eyes back to mine.

Best get to the point before he strangled it out of me. 

“You killed my family,” I choked out around his grip, wrapping both of my hands around his wrist. For all my tugging at his arm, I was rewarded with his grip on my airway tightening ever-so-slightly but not budging besides that. It was enough of a message to still my hands but they remained on his oddly cold skin.

His steely gaze met mine, filled with fury. With a smirk, he grabbed the rock I held to his throat and it disappeared from his grip just like his dagger had. Well, shit. “And now what? You want to fight me? Or, rather, send Thor to fight your battles since you are too weak and irrational to take me on? You wouldn’t stand a chance,” he smirked, stepping closer until he had to look down his nose to see into my eyes.

“Try me, God of Mischief,” I replied through gritted teeth, my eyes flicking over to a tree behind him. With great effort, I directed the buzzing of power inside of me to find the weakest point in the tree. Locating it, my bandaged hand let go of Loki, clenched into a fist, and broke off a bare, dead branch. It flew over at the beckoning of my curled fingers, poised against his throat.

His sadistic smile grew at the thin limb pressing into his jugular. Without moving a muscle, Loki wrenched it from my control and soared across the Compound away from us. I was fighting a losing battle, but it didn’t stop me from trying.

“Learned a new trick, mortal? How quaint. But you won’t win against me,” he whispered, pulling my body flush against his by the hand at my throat, his breath cool against my ear. After one last demonstrative squeeze, he released me, pushing me away from him.

I fell to my knees as soon as I was free, taking deep gulps of sweet, sweet air. His icy touch sent goosebumps down my spine and lingered on my skin for far too long after it was gone. A weariness from manipulating my abilities for so long also tugged on my limbs, urging me to rest and recuperate from the strain. I remained kneeling, gathering my strength, as I scowled at him. “You ruined everything. You deserved it.”

“Get in line, darling. It’s hardly unusual behavior for me,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest with a shrug.

“You should pay for what you did!” I hissed, standing up and advancing on him.

He stood his ground, looking down at me with all the fear a panther holds for a mouse. “You know nothing of my recompenses. I know full well what I did on that day,” he seethed, the terrifying anger that radiated off of him made all the more imposing by his tall frame as he towered over me.

I flinched; I couldn’t help it. I was provoking a god, and the tension in his body and rage in his eyes spoke of power much stronger than my own. He had held his own against Thor earlier, only receiving a few bruises and scrapes for his troubles. What did I expect to be able to do if he decided to fully unleash the barely-contained ire that poured off of him? I bluffed that he wouldn’t be able to hurt me, but how far did the protection of his brother and Tony really reach? Besides the threat of another beating and possible imprisonment, there wasn’t anything stopping him from ending my life here and now and then disposing of me just like the throwing knives he so easily manipulated into and out of existence.

“I am not the same god that ravaged that city.” His harsh breath blew across my face as he advanced towards me, forcing me to back up until my body hit the cold glass windows behind me. I desperately clung to any iota of control I had over my powers as they bubbled beneath the surface seeking an outlet for the heightened response his closeness instilled in me. Craning my neck to meet the piercing eyes of the fair-skinned man crowding me, I saw no difference to the same villain that invaded New York City years ago, and I voiced that opinion.

“My actions on that day were not done with my full consent,” he admitted, some of the fury that furrowed his brow escaping with his strangled sigh. I could’ve sworn that he looked haunted for a moment, but I must have been mistaken because the cold gleam shining once again in his eyes was so intense that it appeared etched into his features. “No matter, as I have suffered the consequences either way.”

“Then add this to your list of consequences,” I whispered, reaching between us to pull my necklace from beneath my clothing. I shoved it into his face. “His name was Michael Thompson. My twin was murdered sitting in a cab with my parents from your Chitauri army. And every time I look at your stupid face, at my face, I’m reminded of it. I can never escape it, and you shouldn’t be able to either,” I said, my voice shaking with too many emotions that I wouldn’t name and fought desperately to stifle. I was not going to lose control, not after digging up the courage to face him.

Loki’s eyes quickly glanced down at the necklace before coming back to me, searching them quizzically. His jaw clenched as he took in my expression, and a look I could only describe as pain cracked the harsh veneer he usually maintained.

“I do know what it’s like to lose those I hold dear. This I promise you,” he breathed, his words drifting across my face in a mint-scented cloud before he turned and quickly left the rooftop. Leaving me standing there alone, shaking from an overload of emotions and struggling to catch my breath.

Free from his intensity, I leaned forward and put my hands on my knees, trying to quiet my ragged breath so I could listen to see if he returned to finish what he had barely begun. I had done what I had set out to accomplish. I made him face the harsh realities of his selfish actions years ago, literally shoved the evidence in his face, and forced him to listen to me. For all the good that it did. He had lived for centuries. What was the plight of a woman who was but a blip on the timeline of his life going to change anything?

The first bit of the conversation that I truly didn’t understand was the conclusion. ’I do know what it’s like to lose those I hold dear.’ Who had this heartless man lost? To have lost means that he must have loved someone, and who would he deem worthy of his affections? He made it abundantly clear that everyone was beneath him, dull creatures compared to the superiority of his godliness.

Had Loki had a heart at one point in his life? Was he born with the black shriveled-up stone that he most definitely possessed now? He must have been a little boy at some point in his life. Although, to be honest, I wasn’t actually sure if Asgardians just came into existence fully grown and, in his case, ready to piss off the world or, in his brother’s case, ready to save it. Could there really be a reason for the loathing that he harbored for the world?

Nope. Not going to try to humanize the murdering bastard.

The second thought that nagged at my overworked mind was that he claimed to have not been fully in control of himself during the invasion. Was that a lie? Recalling the haunted expression that had flashed in his dark eyes for the briefest of moments, it was doubtful. That had been the face of someone who had known true pain. Was the God of Lies that good of an actor? This new tidbit of information hadn’t been brought to my attention before, but I also hadn’t lifted my nose from the grindstone to really pay attention to much since I lost my family.

If it was true, then what in the hell had been strong enough to make him do something he didn’t want to do? Loki was a thousand-year-old god with incredible amounts of will, strength, and power. He didn’t just bend his knee and listen to anyone who could manage to get a word in edgewise. No, his cooperation would have had to been taken from him, as there seemed to be no one who he would freely give it to. I was under no illusion that he was playing along with his captivity now, perhaps having nothing else better to do than to hang around until a more enjoyable opportunity came along. 

Did Loki actually fear something and have a weakness like us pathetic mortals?

Obviously I needed to get some sleep if I was starting to go down that road. I was delusional with exhaustion.

Yep. That’s it.