Madness of the Serpent

Aperture

The spirit remained completely stationary, even after its knees had begun to ache from the constant pressure of skin and bone against the hard ground, its battered suit offering minimal padding.

One pale hand remained against the Jotun-Asgardian's chest, confirming that it still rose and fell with even precision. But the blank, slightly shocked look on his face remained, various injuries marking his features.

Loki did not stir, and the battle outside was growing more frantic and violent. Black smoke covered more regions of the metropolis, and despite its hopes the humans had found a way to seal the portal, it assumed they had failed to do so.

"Jarvis?" it inquired to the air, hoping to hear a response from the disembodied entity which had attempted to guide the spirit earlier.

"I am here, Ms. Frost," he responded cheerfully despite the battle that had taken place within the tower and the wanton destruction beyond its walls.

"Is there anything here that will help... help Loki recover?" the spirit asked, wondering if the creation of Loki's enemy would deny him aid and allow him to suffer. Or worse, call on the human warriors to end his life.

"I have informed Mr. Stark of the criminal's status, but I am afraid he and the others are preoccupied by the Asgardian's invasion forces." Jarvis' voice remained polite, but it sensed a hint of disapproval. "I am sure they will arrive when they are able."

"And then? What will they do to him?" the spirit prodded, wanting to make certain that he would not be further harmed by the humans Loki had referred to as Avengers.

"They will take him into SHIELD custody, most likely. From there, I cannot say, but I imagine he will stand trial for his crimes."

The spirit stared down at Loki's prone figure, dissatisfied with the answer. Its eyes roamed toward the sceptre, and it felt the temptation stir in its thoughts. It could take possession of the golden apparatus and drag Loki away before the human warriors arrived...

But of course, that left the portal wide open, allowing the Chitauri to pour through onto the populace below. And if it could somehow awaken Loki, there was no guarantee he would know how to close the portal, or if he would even be willing to do so. The spirit had no inkling how deep his dislike for the humans ran, or if it was solely a product of his corrupted will.

Its other option was to attempt to close the portal on its own, which was also without guarantee of success.

You must try. You promised the humans you would.

Pressing its lips together, the spirit removed its hand from Loki's chest as it slowly climbed to its feet, swaying precariously as the blood rushed from its head. It took a steadying breath and took one final look down at the Jotun-Asgardian.

I made a promise to you as well, and I intend to keep it.

"Jarvis?" it questioned again as it turned from where Loki lay, beginning its slow, limping journey towards the back portion of the tower.

"Yes, Ms. Frost?" answered the pleasant voice from the air.

"You witnessed the events that took place between Loki and I, correct?" As it spoke, it checked its shoulder wound to find if it was still weeping (it was), and it walked in a curving line towards the back exit to the main room, struggling to move in a straight path.

"Of course."

"Must you speak of it to the others?" it inquired, thinking back to the vicious battle between the spirit and the deranged Loki, along with the murderous threats, disturbing taunts, and violent brutality.