Loving Him loki's daughter fic sequel to Agent Hel

My Father

I awoke with a splitting headache and ringing in my ears. My eyes shot open as I replayed what had happened. The arguing. The explosion. Black.

I has only been out for a matter of seconds. Looking around, I could tell I was in part of the Engine Room. I began to stand up, but a large pillar had fallen in front of me, trapping me into a small corner of the room. The round column was too tall for me to easily scale, and much to circular. I tried concentrating, to channel my magic, but my frantic heart kept my concentration levels low, especially as I heard a roar I registered as the Hulk's.

Groaning,  I took a deep breath, trying to channel my energy to get me out of my little cage. It only took me a minute to pool all my energy into transporting myself out from behind the fallen stone barrier once I had concentrated hard enough.

Opening my eyes, I found myself out from the trap, and in plain sight of where the Hulk was chasing Nat towards me. He roared, and I scampered out of the way, running up a ladder. Nat's footsteps followed me, as did a loud clash,  which I supposed was the hulk taking out the stairwell.

After running frantically through the base, I managed to ditch the green rage monster with a few tricks. I slipped invisible and began to creep towards the cage I knew my father resided in. This was a planned attack, and I knew it. Everything was to week thought out, to well executed. It was my father's doing, carried out by his mindless henchmen. Clint had shot the helicarrier and angered the hulk, and now it was all too easy for my father to escape.

I raced down the narrow halls, dodging frantically scrambling agents and jumping over debris. I fingered my throwing knives lightly as I ran, memorizing the shape of the handle and how it melded to my hand. But I knew my knives were a last resort, as I doubted my ability to harm my father. Most likely he would try to turn me on my friends, to take me with him. Get me to rule the world at his side, such cliche notions that never work out.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door silently and slipped inside, clutching my knife for support.

"Hello father."