Chapter Text
Natasha was the only one with a poker face when they mentioned that Loki was back, found broken and drastically injured in a desert in New Mexico.
Her blank exterior contrasted with the rest of the Avengers who looked either very displeased or shocked to hear about that psycho after 18 months without hearing his name. SHIELD wasn't impressed either.
Nick was ready to send him into a glass cage the very moment he was taken in. He was even considering giving the bastard an execution the second he was told by a saddened Thor that Odin had banished him here on Earth to make up for the damage he'd done.
It was a delicious treat for her after a weary week of mission after mission, and dealing with the childishness of her new teammates - she was going to have to depart from the boy-band very soon.
The news of the fallen god was quite entertaining that she couldn't stay away.
"Karma's a bitch, right?" She dryly commented with a smirk when she stepped into the secured room where Loki was held captive in a glass cage.
He was slumping his back against the surface behind him. She saw him grin. Though weakened, he still sat like a King with his long legs spread apart. Very arrogant of him.
He grunted as he straightened to look at her properly. "You," he spoke with a deep, painful voice.
She smiled at him. "Happy to see me?"
There were deep cuts across his face, a swelling dark purple bruise over his half closed eye.
She didn't feel sorry for him. He damn well deserved whatever happened to his sorry ass.
"Oh no." He chuckled, then coughed painfully. She lifted an amused eyebrow. "A displeasure seeing you, as I've already endured enough pain, as you can see. But after all I've been through, I am led right back here, right back to you."
"Poetic, isn't it?"
He made a quiet scoff. "Poetic, you say?"
"Remember when I was a pain in your neck? I discovered your plan of escape. It all happened right here. I stood where I'm standing now. You were in that glass cage, where you are now. But this time, you're over."
His face started to contort into a scowl.
"What goes around comes back around," she said with a relaxed face.
"Don't you think that's too easy of a conclusion? Does it have to be that predictable?" He frowned.
She blankly stared at him for a very long, quiet moment.
She shrugged, before crossing her arms over her chest. "I believe in a lot of laws of the universe. Like karma. It's how it works, right?"
"Is that so?" Despite the pain he was going through, he still didn't lose his rough touch. "Talking from experience, are you, Agent Romanov? Was your karma ever worse than receiving a beating for destroying an entire city?" He chuckled again which was cut off by a fit of coughs.
"You find destruction funny," she said with disgust.
"Oh, I do. Sorry to disappoint you," he said with contempt, his exterior turning icy.
"I'm not surprised."
"And what have you been contributing to before your precious Barton," he spat that name, "showed up? Was it not destruction as well? I believe that you have killed more than I have."
"As inaccurate as that sounds, I'm not going to fall into discussing body counts with you," she snapped.
He smiled. "We don't have to." He stood up with a groan, holding his side, and he walked closer, "I know enough of your macabre past deeds to know you were just a puppet for another false system. Well, you still are."
"I'm not pathetic like you, though. A once pampered prince with daddy issues, spending centuries trying to remove himself from his brother's shadow. His jealousy so consuming that he's driven to obsession and absolute insanity. You call yourself a god but you're nothing more than a weakling. I've dealt with bastards like you. Look at you. You've totally ran out of excuses. Everyone knows what you are." Now, she made the final blow, "Don't think I don't know about your heritage. You really are a monster."
She watched the expressions on his face in pleasure, her words having gotten to him.
He hated her.
He slammed his fist against the glass, a replay on the last time they met, but she wasn't startled this time. She was motionless, a small smile on her face.
"You impudent bitch!"
"Oh that's new," she quipped.
"I swear I will break out of this incarceration and disintegrate you to soot!"
"Soot?" She mocked. "You lost your touch."
He glowered at her.
"What?" She blinked innocently.
"When I get out of here you'll be the first one I'll kill!" He growled like an animal, shaking like one too.
She deeply chuckled, infuriating him even more. "Yeah, I've heard that one before, mostly from men in your situation."
He punched the glass again. And she merely quirked an eyebrow, trying not to laugh.
"You are no one to judge me! By all that you have done," he snarled. "Despite our backgrounds, we are of the same nature. You are arrogant, you love power. You crave for the upper hand. Even now you feel as if you sit on a throne of power, knowing you are the only mortal - the only soul alive - to best the Trickster. And even then, you enjoyed every kill as a young girl, loving the attention and praise it brought you from your Red Room superiors. You like watching the life fade from the eyes of your enemies. Does Fury know? Does he know that you are still a possible threat? You think separating yourself from me, from people like you & I, takes away all that you have done? For every jab you strike me with, Agent Romanov, you end up striking yourself. I am your mirror, after all."
"You & I are nothing alike," she responded coolly, her face tight with a scowl.
"Deny it all you want but we are cut from the same cloth."
Her heart was thumping in unhealthy speed. But she wasn't going to let him win.
She snorted. A sort of laugh that made him even more angry. "You are pathetic, Loki. Don't drag me into the same category as you. Don't you ever compare yourself to me. You're reaching real fucking hard, and you know you're not making any sense anymore. Because you've lost. You've lost everything and I'm rubbing it in your face. And you hate it." She gave a callous grin in the end.
If looks could kill, Natasha would be dead.
He gave the most intimidating death stare and all she wanted to do was continue playing with him. Maybe he was right. She did like power; the power she had over him. She hit him in the right spot, his eyes even more red and teary.
"I'm done talking to your sorry ass now." She couldn't be here another second. "Being here and watching you like this might just make me cry," she quipped.
"I don't need your sympathy," he spat.
"You have it, though. I pity you. I really, really do," she lied. She felt something else. Something far worse.
She pleasantly smiled at his raging appearance before turning to leave. She twitched in surprise when he made a taunting chuckle which followed her as she left.
"Freak," she murmured.
That creep had gotten under her skin. She had walked in that room very confident only to leave feeling disgustingly insecure, daring to question some of his vile words at her. She hated insecurity. She was not going to be made weak by him of all people, definitely not by that psycho. She was not going to allow it.
"Natasha?"
She stopped and turned around. Steve.
"Captain Rogers," she professionally greeted.
"Are you alright?" He frowned and stepped closer.
"I'm fine." She brushed it off. "Something you wanna say?"
He noticed how pale she looked, the anger flaming in her green eyes. He sighed. "You gave Loki a visit, didn't you?"
She raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, I did. My mistake. Walked into the lion's den, you could say," she drawled, "Dumb, am I right?"
"Did he do something to you? What happened?"
He was getting a little protective, which kind of irked her.
"I could deal with that jackass just fine." She didn't mean to snap at him, but she hated that Loki made Steve feel concerned about her. To her, it gave him some kind of power over all of them. And she hated that. She despised him with every fiber of her body. Which she realized was a problem. Even if it was hate, it was still an attachment. That could compromise her.
Loki was the first enemy she'd ever felt anything for, and that scared her.
She quickly walked away before Steve could further display his worry for her. She wasn't interested. She just wanted time alone to think about her dialogue with Loki.