Clandestine {Loki Fanfic}

Eleven

Loki tried his best to push Megan from his mind, and failed. The image of her burning herself, her green eyes now dull in front of him, her sunken features and thin, weakened body, were all that he could see. What bothered him most though was the mental scream he had felt rather than heard from her. Since that initial glimpse in to her mind he had experienced a few similar occurrences when she lost concentration, and they were becoming more frequent. What he had seen that morning was almost animalistic, it wasn't a ploy for him to release her, to take pity and send her home, she truly was so tortured she wanted to die.

This had never been his intention.

Yes, she was supposed to suffer, but not to this extreme. He called down to the cells for her to be given extra food, clothing and blankets, hoping that it would ease the heavy lump of guilt in the pit of his stomach.

It didn't.

His feelings toward her had been true and real, unexpected and inconvenient, but pure nonetheless. In the beginning he had wanted nothing more than to break her into pieces and see how she worked on the inside, now that he had achieved his goal he was utterly unimpressed with his own work. Perhaps he would send her back, heal her, wipe her memory and send her back to Coulson. Perhaps he would send her back just as she was, as a macabre gift for Phil, a reminder of what he was capable of.

Loki looked up when he heard footsteps and saw Fandral standing in the doorway. "You realise barging in like this is a punishable offence, you disrespectful imbecile?"

"With all undue respect my king, I care not. I am unable to visit Thor, or Megan, but the guards told me what you did. She is dying, Loki. Her skull is fractured and the entire front of her body is burned, and thanks to your torture, the suffering you have forced upon her these few weeks, she has no fight remaining. Both her body and mind have given in. If you want to gloat, do it later. If you want her to have the peaceful and dignified death that you know she deserves, you will release her before it is too late."

"Would you care to join them? Perhaps you and Thor could serenade her and give her the dignity she deserves. Which is nothing, by the way. She is a spy, a traitor, a deceitful whore who earned my trust and a place at my side purely on lies. The only way I got any truth out of her was by fucking her until she mewled like the cheap wench that she is, made her cunt contract and spill her secrets. Unless you want to be in the cell with them permanently, get out!"

Fandral turned and left, shaking his head in despair. He feared if he said any more he would be locked up with them, or killed, and that wouldn't help their cause.

Loki forced his clenched fists open and picked up the pieces of furniture that had overturned when he could no longer reign in his devastation at the news Fandral had brought him. Every molecule in his body screamed. He wanted desperately to go to her, sweep her up and heal her, take care of her and nurse her back to the strong unshakeable woman he had met only weeks ago.

She must be taught a lesson. They all must be taught a lesson. If you try to deceive your king you will be punished. I did not kill her, she did this to herself.

Didn't she?

What if her feelings were real? Would that change your view, would you show her more leniency if she had true feelings for you, not ones she had put on to help her gain your trust? Will you always wonder? If you let her die, you'll never know, and you have the perfect leverage for her to open up to you know, she isn't strong enough to stop you.

He stopped at the doors to the dungeon. How did I get here? As though his body were no longer his own, he strode toward her cell and ordered the force field taken down.

"Megan," Thor said in a low rumble. "I am sorry. I should never have asked this of you and I am sorry." No longer able to move or speak, Megan was barely able to make out the words. The pain that scorched over her face, hands, arms and torso was excruciating, as though she were still pressed against a fire, unmoving, while it consumed her body and burned her spirit to ash. Her head throbbed, a dull background ache in comparison, but she could almost feel the crack in her skull grating on her brain, sending her slowly insane. She was dying, and she knew it with absolute certainty, the only thing keeping her from screaming was her refusal to fight, she would welcome the release of death and the peace it brought with it. More than once a tiny spark from the far reaches of her mind had tried to remind her of the old Megan, the one who refused to give in, who never backed down from a fight no matter the odds or injuries, the one who had welcomed the challenge of an undercover assignment in another realm far from home. But between hunger, exhaustion, the cold and the pain that spark was always quickly extinguished, like a burning ember landing in a swimming pool.

She suddenly felt herself being lifted, and she barely stifled a scream, not that she had the energy to make much sound. To her own ears she sounded more like a small wounded animal. A voice she didn't recognise spoke harshly into her ear. "Do not mistake this as forgiveness. You will be punished on my terms, and you will die if and how I choose, not by your own reckless stupidity."

The agony as the crust that had begun to form on her burns was ripped open overcame her, she expected at any moment to lose consciousness. When she did there was a sensation of being carried somewhere, and she felt as though she was sinking into a thick black liquid, drowning in it. Allowing herself to succumb and welcoming it, encouraging death to take her.

"Nooooooooooooo!" Loki screamed. "You are healers, you are supposed to do your job! I leave for an hour and return to find she is dead?"

"I am so very sorry, my king." Brinda said. "We all did everything we could, but even with the healing you had already done it was too much. She had no fight left."

"Where is she now? I want to see her!"

"She was a servant, she was cremated immediately. That is standard practice, my king."

Loki went immediately to Heimdall, refusing to believe the healer that Megan was indeed gone. "Can you see her? She's back in Midgard, she must be. She has to be."

"Who?"

"Megan! WHERE IS SHE? I know you can see her. Bring her back."

"Loki, I am sorry. I can not see her at all."

Silently he stormed to his chambers and sat down on the floor in the dark. This had never been his intention, he had only ever meant to bring her to the brink, to teach her a lesson and then pull her back. Stripped of her will to fight him she would have loved him openly, as he did her, and there would not have been any need for secrets or lies. Obviously she had been weaker than he thought.

In the following five days he returned to Heimdall at least twenty times, making absolutely sure he could not see her in Midgard, and returning more furious each time. He had beaten Fandral to within an inch of his life, insisting he admit where she was, that he had sent her somewhere to hide, and still he had no other answer. He would have to accept that she was gone, and he was responsible. Not only had he broken her, he had actually taken the last step and effectively murdered her, putting the idea in her head about the force field and repeatedly poking and prodding at her mind until she couldn't take any more.