Special Agent 2: The Dark Soldier

Chapter 68

The autopsy table was hard and unyielding, but Loki had never slept better.

The entire group crashed at NCIS headquarters following the battle. Loki had instantly headed down to autopsy to sleep, too drained to do anything else after escorting Bishop to her desk, which she fell asleep behind. Gibbs also slept on the other autopsy table, tucking a roll of paper towels under his head.

When he woke, sometime later, Loki had trouble placing where he was for a moment. Then he sighed, his shoulders slumping. They'd defeated HYDRA and the Dark Elves. For now, NCIS was safe.

Sitting up, he slid off the table and stretched. Gibbs was already gone, and Loki headed out of autopsy and took the elevator up to the main floor. Blankets were scattered about the squad room, DiNozzo curled up behind his desk, McGee behind his, Bishop behind hers, Thor slumped over on Loki's. Hailstohm was reclining back in Gibbs' chair, boots up on his desk. Kate lay curled up between McGee's and DiNozzo's desks. Gibbs was standing by his desk, looking down at Hailstohm with an impassive expression, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand.

"Hey!" Gibbs snapped. "Get out of my chair!"

Hailstohm opened her eyes and focused on Gibbs. "Good morning, Agent Gibbs." She took her boots off his desk and stood up, getting out of Gibbs' way as he sat down.

Slowly, the other agents began to wake up, and the others all congregated in the squad room. Loki headed over to Bishop's desk and crouched down beside her, gently touching her shoulder. "Morning, darling."

Bishop opened her eyes and blinked at him for a moment, before a tired smile spread across her face. "Morning, Loki," she said, sitting up and wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed him. Loki smiled into the kiss, grateful she was alive, grateful they all were. The Aether's power had been too much, too corrosive. He could feel the dull ache inside him from where it had burned him, tempting him to change reality to fit what he wanted, trying to steal everything else. But it had constantly scared him with the thought of losing Bishop, and after hearing Drax's story of his wife's death, seeing the effect of his mother's death on Odin, and watching Thor watch Jane die, the reality of his own loved one being torn away from him struck home too closely.

Soon the squad room was crowded. Rogers, Carter, Hill, and Wilson had all picked up coffee and breakfast for everyone, which was quickly wolfed down. Tekahionwake and Mordo were speaking quietly with Rogers and Gibbs, leaving shortly after without another word. But Loki heard Tekahionwake telling them to call her if her aid was ever needed. Then their orange portals cut through the squad room and whisked the sorcerers away.

Torres and Romanoff returned, after leaving Pierce and Carpenter in the NCIS holding cells. Fury was nowhere to be seen, which seemed to be exactly how he wanted this now. Loki remembered the advantages that came with everyone thinking you dead, and wondered how Fury would use his newfound advantage.

At some point, Kate and Loki ended up standing together, by the windows. Loki had realized, since entering the squad room that morning, that he had an odd perception of her, like a sixth sense that alerted him to where she was. It was barely perceptible, but flared up when in her proximity.

When he asked her about it, turned out she had the same thing. A leftover vestige of the Aether, it seemed, binding them together.

****

The next several days passed swiftly and were full of chaos. Pierce and Carpenter were both safely in prison and awaiting trial. Thor, Darcy, and Selvig were busy arranging a funeral for Jane, and Romanoff was involved in hearings before the Senate to discuss the whole SHIELD/HYDRA business.

Peter Quill, Gamora, Rocket, Groot, and Drax left, flying back up to outer space with the Power Stone to bring to Xandar and the Nova Corp. They said they'd keep in touch with the Asgardians, but Loki had his doubts. The so-called Guardians of the Galaxy didn't seem like the type to keep in touch with authorial figures. Or listen to them, for that matter.