25-06-2012, 11:36 PM
Chapter 1 – License to Jail
And Loki falls from Asgard, from immortality and from the grace of his father. He falls for what seems an eternity, thousands of deserted planets appearing before his eyes only to disappear a millisecond after, hundreds of suns blinding him with their light before he leaves them behind and continues his hopeless journey to the unknown.
After a while he realizes he is going to die in the middle of nowhere, surrounded only by star dust and unknown planets and his weak, human heart beats so hard it hurts. He opens his mouth, but no scream passes over his lips. In the infinity of the space he can't scream, can't move, can't escape death. He feels, however, every fiber and every nerve of his body awakening, crying for salvation, protesting against the imminent perdition. And this time, there is no one to save him and no future lies ahead. No one will find his lifeless body; no one will mourn his loss.
'And now... now what? Will you let my soul be lost in this frozen vastness of nothingness? No forgiveness for me, no last good bye? Nothing? You are the heartless one, you, who saved me and made me curse my own blood! I grew up with your stories and your enemies were my enemies, your monsters were my monsters. Why didn't you tell me I was a monster for you? You caged my soul with your lies and now you cast me out and let me fall!'
'Oh, Father! You, who are the greatest lie of my life, say you will pray for my hopeless soul, say you will mourn over my lifeless body!'
The slow pulse of his breathing is the only sound that fills the deafening silence and Loki focuses on its steady rhythm. He refuses to think of his father, but his thoughts keep drifting back to him, even as he tries so hard to shut him out. For his sons, Odin has always been a God and a hero, and Loki knows he can hate him all he wants, curse him all he pleases but he will never cease to admire him. Until the end of time, he is cursed to crave for his approval.
It was love, all along, that made him do what he did. That, and an enormous, burning need to prove himself worthy of his father's throne, despite being a Frost Giant and an outcast.
Strangely, he can barely remember living all those things and feeling all that love. As he falls, Loki hates Odin – truly hates him, almost as much as he hates himself.
The hatred, hot and fiery, thunders through his veins and devours his soul until nothing else remains. Finally, death doesn't seem like such a bad idea and it starts looking like salvation. Loki embraces it and a strange peace befalls him.
At that precise moment, after making peace with himself, he finally hits the earth.
\\\~+~/
The force of the impact shatters his thoughts to pieces and an excruciating pain explodes through his body, blinding him for a moment. Eyes wide open, Loki fights for breathing and cries as the first gulp of air fills his lungs with hot acid that spreads through his veins like a wildfire. Never in his life had he felt such an intense, soul-consuming pain. Not when Thor beat him to a pulp, not when he got his lips sewn together for seducing a certain maiden and not even when the Hulk crushed his bones to the ground. It's like his whole body has been instantly torn to dust and he is allowed to live only to feel that blinding, fierce pain, drilling mercilessly through his entire self.
It takes him two hours to move without going insane with pain and another two to start walking, staggering like a drunken man, but, in the end, he feels rather proud of himself. If Odin had intended to kill him, he should have done it on the spot. By letting him live after humiliating him like that, the old man had made the biggest mistake of his life.
One step on the road and Loki starts to concoct a new plan.
"I shall find a way to contact the Chitauri."
Another step.
"I shall convince them to lend me an army to invade Asgard."
The next step is followed by an incredibly intense pain that races mercilessly through his shoulder. It hurts like hell, but at least it kind of helps him clear his head.
The Chitauri are not his friends anymore. In fact, he will be in serious trouble if they find him in his current state.
"Or maybe I shall not contact them," he decides, forcing himself to move on.
The salvation, when it finally comes, has the shape of an old Ford, parked outside a gas station with the keys still in the ignition. It looks all dusty and rusted and doesn't quite fit his tastes, but Loki does not intend to turn down the gift. Assuming he is on Midgard, he has to get to the place called "hospital", and he has to get there fast.
Turning the car on, Loki wishes he would have paid more attention to driving during his last visit on Midgard, but he was pretty busy that time, trying to use the Chitauri to take over the world while planning to cheat the dumb beasts and keep the Tesseract for himself. A hectic schedule even for someone used to pulling the strings of the Universe like himself.
However, he is on a primitive planet, how difficult can it be?
As the car moves forward, he feels rather confident, so he pushes the acceleration as far as it can go, ignoring the revolted screams of the owner, who walks out of the gas station just in time to see his car being stolen.
After a few miles, Loki is so proud of himself he doesn't even bother to notice a little man, all dressed in blue and black, waiving his hand at him. A few more miles and a white, very noisy car overtakes his old Ford and stops in the middle of the road, forcing Loki to discover the brakes.
Anger boiling in his chest, he gets out of the car and sees a little bald man coming his way. He stares for a moment at the man's weapon and quickly decides against any attempt to snatch it – he is so weak that even a child can knock him down.
"May I see your driver's license?" the man asks, measuring him from head to toe like he is some kind of an alien. Well, technically speaking he is one, but he is quite positive he looks humanoid enough to pass for a Midgardian.
That, of course, in case Odin didn't suddenly discover his sense of humor and made him look like a bilge-snipe. He fights against the sudden urge to touch his head in search for horns and smiles instead.
"But of course you can," he answers, trying to talk his way out of the incident. "However, I am not familiar with that term. Would you mind explaining to me what a driver's license might be?"
The police officer - a middle-aged man with very thick eyebrows that seem to compensate for his baldness - sneers at him and starts writing something in his notebook.
"You think you're funny, huh?" he asks.
What an impertinent bug. Were Loki able to use his magic, the man would have been instantly vaporized. As he isn't, he forces himself a faint smile and tries to keep his composure.
"No, I do not think of myself as being particularly funny. You see, I am not from here-"
"Right. Listen, son. I might have been born at night, but it wasn't last night.* And you're not the first punk I've seen smoking shit, stealing cars and trying to fool the ol' man. But I ain't no fool, boy! And, unless you can show me some ID, you are coming with me."
"No, I am not," Loki refuses, too outraged to find a better line. "And you should consider yourself lucky for-"
"If I were lucky, I wouldn't have to work my ass off for eight dollars per hour, risking my fucking life to protect punks like you from being killed on the streets!" the man cuts him short, obviously losing his temper.
On the other hand, Loki's patience starts to run thin as well. "As a matter of fact-"
"As a matter of fact, get in the fucking car!"
Grabbing his shoulder, the man pushes him toward the police car. Wincing at the sharp ache that shoots through his shoulder, Loki yanks his shoulder free and hisses in pain.
"Get your hands off me!"
The police officer stops abruptly and turns to him, finally noticing his condition. However, the sight of his wounds doesn't have the effect Loki was hoping for.
"Oh, so you like fighting as well! You make your parents really proud, now, don't cha!"
Surprisingly enough, the reference to his family renders him speechless and Loki quietly follows the policeman to his car.
'I failed to make you proud, Father, but the same goes for you now. My fall... is your fall. '
\\\~+~/
P.S. To everybody who read and / or rated my story, thank you. I'm waiting for your suggestions, impressions and, why not, criticism.
* The line "I might have been born at night, but it wasn't last night." doesn't belong to me. It was said by Bobby Singer, one of the characters from the Supernatural series and I take no credit for it.