Between the Lines

Persuasion

"Get up. Get up now." She woke to a light shining in her face and some extremely bad breath in her nose. "Get up, or I'll shoot you where you lie you bitch."

"Just shoot me then, I don't fucking care." She retorted without much feeling. Kathy had lost the will to live. Over the last week, she hadn't seen Loki again. Other than the piece of work with the SHIELD badge, she had seen no one.

As it turned out, Rumlow, too, was a Hydra agent and came with all the toys a good interrogator should have. Day or night, it made no odds.  She had been beaten, tortured, injected with God only knew what and subjected to every kind of physical violation the sick minds at Hydra could think of. All to no avail. She hadn't told them a thing. What they failed to grasp was that she knew nothing TO tell them.

The guard ignored her and grabbed her by the hair, dragging her out of the bed and onto the floor. A swift kick to the stomach made her scream and gag. She spat in his face as he bent to drag her to her feet.

"BITCH!" he roared and back handed her across the cheek, his signet ring adding to her collection of cuts and bruises. She winced but said nothing.
He was about to bring his rifle down on her head when the door opened and a voice boomed out.

"Touch her again and I will rip you apart. Slowly, painfully, in every way you fear."

"Loki" she mumbled, suddenly overcome with relief. "Loki is that you?" Her vision, blurred by the onslaught, could still make out the tall figure in leather and metal.

"Yes, Kathy. It's me. Now stand up, Pet. Let me see what they did to you." There was an edge to his voice. Something cold she'd never noticed before. Slowly, he helped her up. Her swollen eye half shut, she could still see the bruising and semi-healed cuts on him from the accident. Other than that, though, he seemed ok.

"Are you ok?" She whispered softly as he sat her on a chair and proceeded to walk around her, assessing her injuries.

"How did you get free? Why are they listening to you?" It pained her to speak, but as always, her mind was relentless in its pursuit of the truth.

"Still my little Rotweiler, eh?" Loki smiled at her, stroking her bruised cheek softly. It was Loki but it wasn't - there was something dead in his stare. She swallowed. There was something she wasn't altogether sure she wanted to hear, present in his voice.  It sounded, well, it sounded like compliance.

"All in good time, little one." He walked over and knelt next to her. "You, my darling, are more of a treasure than the tesseract you know that?" He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.  "What you are worth is far more than these mortals will ever realise." 

Her stomach churned. His voice was Loki's, his face was Loki's, what she was sickened by was the fear that the intention was really Loki's. Had he been engineering this all along? He seemed cool, calm, and collected.

"Loki? What's going on?" She managed to whisper hoarsely.  "You're scaring me."

He placed a long elegantly pale finger to her lips

"shhhhh." He stroked a lock of blood matted hair off her face.  She almost winced at his touch.

"Oh my darling little Pet," his tone was smooth and icy cold. His use of 'darling' and 'pet' sounding uncharacteristically threatening. Something made her look into his eyes, and she saw absolutely nothing. No desire, no affection, no interest, not even any anger or hate.  Was he drugged? Could he even be drugged?  She had a sudden thought.

"Loki, I need you to hold me. Im scared Loki. You said I would never be scared.  Help me understand?" She held out her hands, and he leered at her, his face covered in a sheen of sweat, his eyes sunken and dark.

He held her hand, and she held her breath.  "Better my little Midgardian?" He asked almost pleasantly.  She nodded. She was far from better. His hands - and the rest of him - remained resolutely pale.  Not a flicker of blue, anywhere. This was not the Loki she had gotten into the car with.

"Thank you." She swallowed, nausea rising.

"Good.  Now, I have arranged to have you moved to better quarters, and there will be no more of this absurd torture.  Do I make myself clear?" He turned to the guards.  "She gets hurt, I will hurt you. In every way imaginable.  She is a valuable commodity if we are to defeat them."

"Yes, sir," the guards stood to attention.

"Now, let me take you to your room. There you can bathe and change.  We will eat later." He smiled coldly.  "I want you looking your best if you are to represent us well in your broadcast."

"My - my broadcast?" She looked at him, shocked.

"Yes, darling. Once we have eaten and I have explained everything to you, you will see the benefits our organisation can offer. We want you to convince everyone else.  You are a skilled communicator, are you not?  Who better?"  He shrugged, and she almost vomited on the spot. Our organisation? Hydra was HIS organisation? She couldn't bring herself to believe it.  He couldn't. He wouldn't, surely not?

As they walked to her new room, she began to feel faint and staggered against the wall. "Come on, up you come." He scooped her into his arms and carried her. For a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of something cross his face, and then it was gone again.

As he opened the door to her new gilded cage, she knew she was trapped. Unless she could break whatever hold they had on him, he was lost. She had to tread carefully.

"Thank you,  Sir," she said quietly, and he smiled, pleased with her apparent compliance.

"Oh my dearest Pet, never call me Sir.  You are special,  Little One. You will always be remembered as special." He looked at her. "Even after you are gone."

As he closed the door, she sat on the bed with a thump. After she was gone? She prayed that didn't mean in the same way as Sitwell had gone.