#inure

[grimmscythe]

I’ve become so fucking inured to this feeling

[hprro]

inure | 2

-rewritten @zi-deactive​ work-

summary - To some, The Spectre is a serial killer. To some, a hero. But to everyone, you were entirely a mystery. You had no history, just a list of victims a mile long. No matter how many people searched your name, they couldn't find anything. If only they had the spelling right. Now, you’ve come across some unfortunate information that drives you out of your usual shadows and into the path of the Avengers. Including two of the more reclusive members of the team. And it’s hard to pick only one of them.

(t/w): this series contains violence and alcohol abuse

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                 Why Are You Only Friends With Villains?

"Howard, this isn't a good idea. SPCTR isn't ready to show to the public, much less reporters itching to make up a million stories about how the US government plans to use this," You argued. You sat at one of the many work desks in your lab, looking over Project SPCTR's blueprints.

Howard sat across from you, a half-smoked cigarette hanging from his mouth. Thankfully you were nowhere near your actual machine and had a few windows open. Sadly, that meant you could hear the rest of the fort clear as day.

Howard sighed, standing up from his seat. He walked to the edge of the table, placing both hands and leaning on it. "Well, we gotta show 'em something! I'm not saying we have to keep it running, just enough to show the people we've got something real on our hands."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have bragged about it to any media outlet that would listen. You told them about SPCTR, now you have to tell them it's not ready." You didn't look up at him, marking down small repairs that needed to be made with your machine. "It's that simple."

He groaned and turned away from the table, running a hand across his face before facing you again. "C'mon! Just one test, Doc. We don't have to go through everything, just turn it on and off, basic settings! We just gotta show that it works!" He insisted.

"But it doesn't work."

"They don't have to know that!"

Stark, just the same as always.

"I just gotta show them something. Just a few seconds and they'll be going nuts for the next month!" You were tempted to say yes. Howard was a good salesman, after all. But without all the parts complete, there's no telling what turning it on would do.

Well actually, you had your guesses. And none of them were good. If it weren't for those dangers, he would've had you convinced by now.

"Turning it on now could endanger lives. Not just ours but anyone we take down to see it. It's a hole in the ground surrounded by glass, people might get stuck down there if it goes ballistic and actually implodes. We need to stay safe about this."

He sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes, slumping against the table. He hated your many safety rules, all of which had been created because he'd run around the lab lighting things on fire and blowing shit up if they didn't exist.

"Look, I get it!" You argued, finally looking up from the blueprints. "I'm excited about this too! This is life-changing stuff! Once we get it to work, if we can find a way to mass-produce these things we'll cut casualties so low they'll be in the single digits. We could send people home to their families again when they had no hope. That's something to look forward to," You offered. It truly was an amazing invention. Assuming you could get it to work. "But let's save the bragging and showing off until we know this will change lives. I don't want to give an entire nation false hope."

You stood up from the desk, walking over to another one with a large metal part on it. It was a piece of the control panel, one that you'd been trying to fix for about a day now. You unscrewed a panel, glancing back to the blueprints you'd just marked.

You'd missed the sour glare on Howard's face.

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Your eyes snapped open only to be met with the dark ceiling of your temporary bedroom.

Most of your dreams consisted of memories, though some were more favorable than others. You lived for the nights you dreamed about your childhood or the days you'd go out with Peggy before the war started. She was your closest friend.

You'd kept in contact with her, once you'd gotten back. Though you were pissed to hear that Howard had died before you got to kill him yourself, you were pretty happy to know Peggy was still alive. You'd spent the last years of her life visiting regularly. Watching the movies you'd missed and talking about times before the war tore the world apart.

You'd lived between England and the US your whole life, given that your mother was English. It meant you and Peggy met when you were rather young. The Carters were family friends and were thrilled to hear that your family had a daughter about the same age as Peggy.

You'd gotten along swimmingly.

You sighed, looking over to the side table Tony had given you, noticing something that you knew hadn't been there before.

It was an old photo with a dark frame, the new wood neatly painted a deep black. In it was an old picture, you and Peggy standing next to each other, one of your arms around Peggy's waist, and one of hers around your neck. The both of you were laughing, smiles wide and eyes scrunched.

You both wore nice dresses, your makeup and hair done much nicer than anything you would've worn at the fort.

It was before the war. In fact, you remembered the image well.

It had been Peggy's birthday, and you'd taken her out for dinner and dancing. Given your title as a Doctor and inventor and hers as an up-and-coming female military leader, the two of you didn't have much time to relax.

That picture was the hardest you'd laughed in a long time.

You placed it back on the nightstand, knowing Captain America or the Winter Soldier were the most likely suspects for who placed it there. They were the only ones who had any chance of knowing Peggy personally, after all.

You pushed yourself out of bed, taking a moment to admire the nice room. It was much better than the dingy hideouts you were used to. Leave it to a Stark to make things look expensive. Actually, knowing Stark, they probably were expensive.

There was a small living room and kitchen attached, stocked with some minor essentials. You'd have to travel down to the actual kitchen if you wanted any real food.

You walked into the small kitchen area, grabbing an electric kettle to make tea.

"What time is it?" You wondered allowed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "I need to tell that Captain more about SPCTR. Maybe the team will stop discussing whether or not they think I'm lying all the time if they know a little more. Or at least gossip in a more private setting."

You grumbled, grabbing a kettle and rinsing it out before filling it up with fresh water.

"It's 3:44 am, and I can remind you, if you'd like," A feminine voice offered. The sound of another person made you jump, especially since you didn't sense anyone. The kettle fell into the sink, spilling out the water you'd been filling it with. You knew no one was there, you would've felt a presence. Your senses were flawless... yet this person went unnoticed?

"Hello?" You questioned loudly, keeping your voice stern and strong.

"Hello!" The voice said again, cheerfully responding. You stepped toward the exit of your kitchen area. Even though you could see into the small living room-like area from the kitchen, it was better to look around yourself. But still, there was no one in sight.

"Who are you?" You asked, hoping the voice would continue to respond.

"I'm FRIDAY, Mr. Stark's AI system. It's nice to meet you." You almost laughed. Of course he had an AI.

Now you were less scared and more curious. Was she a full-blown AI? Had she passed the Turing Test? How had he made her completely functional and responsive? She sounded so human too. Was it only in certain rooms? If so, how was she built-in?

There were quite a few questions running through your head, and the scientist in you was completely willing to ignore the fact that Tony was Howard's son if it meant you got to quiz him on his inventions.

What could you say? After all these years, inventing was still a hobby of yours. Not that you shared it with anyone anymore.

"FRIDAY, huh? And how do you work?" You asked, kind of hoping you could just ask her instead of Stark. Admittedly, it was weird talking to the air. But it was even weirder to have the air respond.

"I was implemented to help Mr. Stark after he lost his previous AI. I'm a network of different systems that Mr. Stark has created. I'm not allowed to share all the details, though I'm sure Boss wouldn't mind showing you."

Of course she called Tony 'Boss'. Just like Stark to put themselves on a pedestal.

"Well," You began, "Thank you FRIDAY. I can remember to talk to Captain Rogers though, I don't exactly have much else to do."

“Alright, Miss.”

“Just call me Spectre,” you told her, smiling at the ceiling.

“No problem, Spectre.”

You walked back to the sink, turning the kettle right side up, and filling it again, setting it down on the counter to boil.

You looked around the area again, admiring it.

It felt strange to have a home.

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Coming downstairs and having breakfast was one of the most awkward experiences of your life.

You'd come down a bit late, hoping the Avengers would've already eaten. Though it did seem like some of them had finished, they were still at the table, chatting or finishing whatever breakfast they had left. Honestly, it was like they were waiting for you.

When you entered the room, book in hand, their conversation immediately hushed as they all turned toward you. They were awful at pretending not to stare.

"So, um, Spectre." The Captain was the first to speak up, his voice unwavering even as you came closer to the group. You settled at the kitchen's island next to him, facing him and nodding at him to continue. "Please, grab a plate and join us. We'd like to get to know you."

He offered one from the stack on the island, gesturing to the food piled on plates on the island. Most of it was gone, though there was plenty left for a few people. The sentiment was sweet, though you had a feeling you knew what he was doing. If they befriended you, then they might have a permanent ally. Maybe even stop your 'crime spree'. Or maybe they wanted to justify working with you. Thinking that if you weren't a bad person all the time, maybe they'd feel better about themselves. Or maybe they just wanted to find a way to take you down. They wanted to know just what makes you tick so they could disarm you later. Just in case you got too hot to handle. Not that they'd get anything from you.

"Not to be blunt, Captain, but you don't want to talk to me." You took a step closer to him, noting how he had to put in an effort not to step backward. "I'm a possible threat in your house. You want to learn whatever you can about me for your own safety."

He looked a bit guilty at that, which was the biggest sign that you'd gotten it right. "It's fine, I understand. I'd do the same."

You looked around the rest of the room, seeing similar guilty looks on a few of their faces. Some didn't seem affected or surprised, namely Tony. The rest were avoiding your eye, most likely because of getting caught, not the actual embarrassment.

You didn't have anything against them really. But you weren't here to become best friends. You were here to stop a threat and go back to life as you knew it, just with less running from the police. Of course, the city papers would have a field day, but it hardly mattered. There wouldn't be any legal record of your past or future crimes.

The Captain stayed silent, not seeming sure how to act. He opened his mouth to speak, but you did first.

"Don't bother 'justifying', Captain. As I said, you don't really want to talk to me." You started to place food on your plate, hoping it would help you get out of there faster. "Just don't pretend you do. It's rude."

You didn't hear a response, so you assumed that would be it for the conversation.

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The team went back to their hushed conversation and you scanned the room. It was rather large, as was expected, so you settled for a seat on the far side of the room. You grabbed a cup of coffee from the freshly brewed pot and walked over to a seat. The only other person there didn't seem too keen on stay with the team either, so you didn't mind being near him.

He was buried in a book, completely ignoring the team's conversation. You didn't mind the lack of conversation, though his book choice was interesting. Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. An interesting choice, though not something most people read on a Tuesday morning.

You broke open a book of your own, scanning over the page while half paying attention. Your eyes wandered down the page, though you knew you were retaining a single word.

"The team has deemed you a villain as well, hm?" He said, not looking up from the book. He hadn't flipped the page since you'd sat down. In fairness, neither had you.

"You're getting the same treatment, I assume."

You recognized, though not well. He was Loki, Thor's brother and the god of lies and mischief. He had attacked New York a while back, landing himself about 100 casualties. A low number, thanks to the Avengers and the police.

The Avengers had captured him soon after, though it seemed he was being given a second chance. In all honesty, he was teetering on the edge of your list. Honestly, most of the Avengers had been on your list at some point or another. Though at the time they were doing more good than harm, so you let them be. Not that you were afraid to put them right back the second they messed up.

"It is to be expected. After my transgressions, they still do not trust me. Not that I blame them." He finally looked up, meeting your eyes. They were a sparkling blue, though it was much duller than all the pictures you'd seen of him.

"I see," You responded, analyzing the man in front of you. He wore green and black with a touch of gold, a strange mix of Asgardian and Earth attire. A combination of dark jeans and a green t-shirt along with a rather medieval-looking coat, which you assumed was something Asgardians would commonly wear.

"They're the goody heroic type. I suppose I can see why they wouldn't like me either," You lamented. Loki nodded, though he kept a straight face. It looked practiced, as if he was wearing a mask so you couldn't guess what he was thinking. But you knew that look in his eyes. The one that asked if you could possibly relate to him. Maybe you could be outcasts together.

You weren't sure if you liked that idea. At the moment, being alone was much more favorable.

"I'm not exactly clear on what you've done." Loki finally closed his book, keeping a finger between the pages and setting it on his lap. You could see a few team members glance over at you, as if they didn't like you two getting along.

"I kill for a living. Sort of. It's not the best gig but the pay is good. The hero types don't tend to like serial killers, though." You shrugged.

"Do you simply kill anyone?" He questioned, trying to make some sense of why you were here to help the Avengers at all. You smirked.

"Not exactly. My victims are the scum of the Earth. Sons of bitches who managed to escape justice. Maybe they got away with murder, maybe the court isn't moving fast enough. Or maybe they're protected behind a wall of connections, money, and way too many bodyguards." You sipped your coffee. "It doesn't matter. I don't miss a target."

You were proud of that. Not a single bastard you'd gone after had gotten away. They've tried. Some have even gotten further than you expected. But no one had gotten away. That was a streak you didn't plan on breaking any time soon.

"And the Avengers feel you are doing the world a disservice by ridding the world of criminals?" He seemed confused by the concept.

"They just don't like the whole 'murder' part. Well, the torture and murder part. They think we should bring 'em in and let the system handle it. As if the system isn't a pile of shit that's been burning for the last two decades." You took another sip of coffee, enjoying the feeling of the warm liquid sliding down your throat. "So, here I am."

"And if the authorities catch you? Wouldn't they put you to death?" You looked off to the side, thinking. They probably would, depending on the state at least. You hadn't really looked up what consequences you'd face. Not that you cared. You only gave him a low-effort shrug, downing a good portion of your coffee.

"You do not seem scared," Loki noted.

You laughed, swirling the coffee in your cup. "Death is an old friend."

He hummed. A moment passed before you both opened your books once again, resuming reading in comfortable silence. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than any time you'd spent with the team so far.

When you finished your food and coffee you stood up, placing the now empty cup in the sink and washing it, placing it on the small drying rack nearby.

A few team members were near the kitchen area, though most were in the living room like area, though they were conne0cted.

Like your other senses, your hearing was advanced, and you could barely hear anything from them. Whatever they were talking about, they were being very careful about it.

You grabbed a few granola bars from a box in a cabinet and grabbed a bottle of whiskey from below the kitchen island. You reached for a tall glass, pouring it nearly to the brim without even looking at the label.

The team glanced toward you, their conversations slowing.

"I like a good drink myself, but, uh, that's a full-size glass and it's 10 in the morning," Tony said, looking concerned for your health.

You only scoffed at him. "I'm starting later than usual, then." You drink a good portion of the glass before filling it back up and heading toward their training room, bottle still in your hand.

Tony sighed from the living room. "I mean, just drink from the bottle at that point."

You didn't respond, stepping in the elevator and heading down to the training room.

In all honesty, the drink wouldn't do much. Your heart stopped after you died. Everything had. Sadly that meant alcohol could barely make it through the blackened sludge that was your self-healing blood, so it diluted faster than you wanted. You'd have to drink enough to kill a grown man if you wanted to feel so much as a buzz. As far as you knew, you were a walking talking corpse. You only had to breathe so you could talk, and you were certain you could outdrink Thor. And now that you lived under the same roof as the guy, you were tempted to try it.

Since all the loud members of the team were at breakfast, you decided to take this time to get some exercise. Unsurprisingly, the room was huge. Leave it to a Stark to go big.

Though even from the entry way, you could hear another person in the room. You inwardly groaned at the thought of human interaction. Living with a bunch of do-good superheroes wasn't enough, now you had to actually talk to them.

You walked in anyway, hoping it was one of the kinder, quieter members, like Vision. But you doubted a flying android would ever need to work out.

Instead, it was the solider, Steve's friend, Bucky Barnes. You knew him as the Winter Soldier. He ended up on your list after looking into Howard's death. You weren't able to get a real identity on him until years later though.

Although you'd only met Steve once before (not that he remembered), but you'd heard a lot about him and Bucky from Peggy. You knew a bit about their life in the army, mostly about how Bucky had gone missing somewhat early on.

You tried not to make eye contact while you walked over to the weights. He was practicing knife throwing against a wall of human-android targets. How Stark-like.

"You created that machine, right?"

His voice rang out before you reached the machine across the room from him. You refrained from sighing or rolling your eyes at the fact that you had to talk to him.

You turned around, meeting his eye. He picked up a knife, spinning it around and offering the handle to you. You finally gave in, sighing and downing the entire glass of whiskey on your way over. Bucky looked a bit worried by the time you finished, but it hardly mattered. You placed the bottle on the floor, grabbing the knife from the man next to you.

You took it, looking over it carefully and resigning yourself to questioning.

"Me and a friend of mine. We thought it could do good, or at least I did, but it was never finished." You threw the knife at the target, landing it solidly in the dummy's neck. Throwing knives weren't your specialty, but you certainly weren't terrible.

Bucky looked impressed, picking up a knife of his own. "It was meant to heal people, right?" You nodded as he threw the knife, hitting the left side of the dummy's chest. It looked like he was making a 'X' pattern on it for fun. "So how's it gonna hurt anyone?" He asked.

You had considered that. But, since the machine malfunctioned as badly as it did... well, there was no doubt it could harm just as well as heal. "Trust me, it can kill without problem." You said, picking up a knife and tossing it with more aggression. This time it landed in it's forehead, lodged in so far part of the hilt was wedged into the droid.

"I don't think you’re a threat, if that's what you're worried about." H picked up another knife, though he only looked at you without throwing it. You scoffed and looked to him as well, narrowing your eyes.

"And what makes you think I'm worried?" You questioned, your tone icy.

He made a quiet 'i don't know' hum. "I know I would be if I were you."

Your head twisted slightly, trying to analyze him for any sign of lying. You find none. "So why are you talking to me, then?"

He shrugged, tossing his knife into the dead-center of the 'X', completing the pattern.

"You seemed lonely."

[zi-deactive]

If I were to write the rest of Inure on Quotev, (or publish it through @arandompostarchive) would you read it?

(HERE: CMZ)

(Inure tags: @the-writers-reader, @thefallenbibliophilequote)

[arandompostarchive]

Inure Ch. 5

SAVED WORK

Summary: To some, The Specter is a serial killer. To some, a hero. But to everyone, you were entirely a mystery. You had no history, just a list of victims a mile long. No matter how many people searched your name, they could find anything. If only they had the spelling right. Now, you’ve come across some unfortunate information that drives you out of your usual shadows and into the path of the Avengers. Including two of the more reclusive members of the team. And it’s hard to pick only one of them.

***

Since Loki was not allowed to return to Asgard, he had to send Thor to get any books on telepathy. Thor wasn’t the best at that though and hadn’t returned with much of anything. So, with his limited resources he relied on you for help. Which wasn’t going well.

Tony was busy trying to tell Hastings’ blood apart from a normal person, though you doubt he was having any luck. Most likely, he and Bruce were doing more research on the skin and blood samples you gave them. You hadn’t had a proper lab to research yourself in, so you weren’t complaining.

You and Loki decided to meet in your room instead of downstairs. Neither of you wanted to have the entire team staring at you.

He made good company. He was on the more quiet side, even when you were alone. Not that you minded. Sometimes reading in each other’s company was exactly what you needed. But now you were attempting to teach him telepathy. Key word ‘attempting’.

“It’s fairly simple. You just focus on someone and sort of… let yourself into their head.” You were doing your best to explain, but you’d never really had to teach someone before. “The more willing they are, the easier it gets. Or if they don’t know, that’ makes it easy too.” Loki was doing his best to listen, but you could tell you weren’t helping much.

“Sorry, I’m not used to teaching someone else. I’m not used to ‘magic’ either.”

He laughed a bit. “I understand. But you’ve clearly been using magic for a long time, just look at your eyes.”

You were confused for a moment. Was he joking? Maybe you were supposed to laugh… “I’ve never used magic in my life.”

He seemed confused at your statement. “What do you mean? You read minds and there is clearly an illusion over your eyes.”

You understood a bit more now. Since you died, your eyes seemed to be the one thing that didn’t come back properly. To be honest, you hadn’t looked at them in years, so you didn’t remember much. You just knew it wasn’t a pretty picture, but they still worked just fine so you didn’t care. You hadn’t even realized you were using an illusion.

“There is? Are you sure it’s magic?”

Loki seemed to consider your words. “Well, I suppose not, but I’ve never seen a non-magic user cast illusions.”

“Well, my eyes are less than pretty. And I have used illusions to camouflage myself before. I just didn’t realize I was doing it subconsciously.”

Loki and you had come to an unspoken agreement to be friends. You had seen him around the tower. When he attacked New York, he earned a status as the villain, and he hadn’t yet broken out of it. You and him were in similar situations. It started with reading the same books and talking about it, then watching TV together in silence. Neither of you understood the references or some of the jokes, but it was more about being in the presence of another person. A judgement free zone. Both of you had pasts you’d rather not talking about, and being together was a silent agreement to not speak about it. You were thankful to have someone accepting.

Your mind drifted to Bucky. Another accepting person in the tower. He was a bit of a different story. He was once a ‘villain’, yes, but that wasn’t really him. You on the other hand have made all of your own decisions since the beginning. He did seem to understand your reasoning and neither of you talked about the fact that you’re probably on several FBI lists, which was exactly the way you liked it. You didn’t have to talk about all the blood and death.

“I’m sure your eyes look beautiful.” The small compliment made you smile. Loki didn’t seem to notice how kind he was being to you, or he probably would’ve dialed it down a bit. But you weren’t complaining about seeing Loki’s softer side. From what you knew about him, it was a side he hadn’t shown in years.

He was probably just happy that you weren’t eager to show up on any hero’s radar, so he was likely never to see you again after all this had calmed down. He could say whatever he liked and could be certain no one would ever hear anything about it. Who were you going to tell? The rats living in your old apartment?

He was still focused on your eyes and whatever subconscious illusion you had projected over them. When you died, they looked like gray, rotten messes. It was the one part of you that hadn’t completely regenerated. Maybe you needed a few more years in the ground.

“They make me look weird. Not exactly disgusting, but just… off-putting. I haven’t thought about it in a while, really. I never met someone who could see through my illusions.”

Loki pressed his hand to your cheek in a comforting manner. It had been a good 70 years since you’d had any normal human contact besides a handshake or the occasional victim grabbing at you in an attempt to ask for mercy. Normally, you’d shy away from any human contact, but the feeling of his cool skin against your cheek was calming.

If you really focused, you could see a blue tint to his skin. It looked odd, like some sort of false projection. It made you wonder if he was using an illusion too. So, you took a shot in the dark.

“You’re using one too, right?” You were hoping you were right, otherwise you were in for an awkward explanation.

“What?” He said, pulling his arm down. You inwardly frowned at the loss of contact. His cold skin was cooling down your face. It was an odd sensation that you somewhat enjoyed.

“Illusions. You’re using one too, right?” You asked again. You could see him stiffen a bit. To most people, it looked like a simple flinch. But you had been dealing with liars and criminals for decades, you knew how to spot mannerisms. “I’m right then.” You said.

“Yes, you are.”

He seemed to have pulled back. You hit some kind of nerve. His stance stiffened and he seemed more guarded. Not that you blamed him. You decided to shift the topic a bit, maybe distract him from whatever thoughts he was having.

“Well, I say I’d actually teach you. Might as well give it another go.” He quietly agreed and went to sit down on your couch. You joined him and faced him, ready to give teaching another go. You walked toward the couch, crossing your legs and waiting for Loki to join you. He walked over and did the same, facing you.

“Alright, let’s try again. It’s sort of like creating a doorway into someone’s mind and then letting yourself in. I’m not really sure how else to explain.” You tried to think of ways to make this easier, but nothing was coming up. You had learned when you were young. It was a skill that had come naturally, no one had ever taught you.

“Perhaps a demonstration?” He asked, looking toward you.

“On who?” You responded. He didn’t seem like the type to want you rooting around in his head.

“Me. Trial by fire, I suppose.”

You nodded, closing your eyes to focus. It wasn’t difficult to read Loki’s mind, especially since he was willing to let you. “Like this” You said, hoping it would help. You opened your eyes to see Loki nodding before you backed out of his head. You hadn’t seen anything and you expected that he’d want to keep it that way.

“It’s a lot easier with a willing subject, so go ahead.” He took a breath before closing his eyes.

A minute or two passed before you felt anything. A small tingling sensation at the back of your head. Was this what it was like for everyone when you read their minds? Weird. Suddenly, you felt your surroundings change. You inhaled deeply, confused by your new surroundings.

It was dark. You swore you could feel mud beneath your shoes and the rain on your skin. Looking around, you recognized the place. A graveyard. More specifically, your graveyard.

You could see yourself a little ways away. Lifting three men up over a grave. You could barely hear one of them say, “Your eyes. What the hell happened to your eyes?” You took a few steps closer, hoping to see yourself. Once you got a better view, you could see them for yourself.

You got closer to the group. You could see the pile of bodies next to them and you could spot your grave just behind them.

Your eyes looked gray, almost like they were rotting out of your head. The sight repulsed you. It looked disgusting and you couldn’t focus on the conversation Old You was having with the murderers.

“Where are we?” You heard a voice from beside you and you flinched, forgetting about Loki and training. Right. Training.

“My mind, I assume.” You sounded distracted. “Looks like you went in too far. I think it’s time to get out of my head.” You said quickly, hoping to leave before Loki would witness you murder people 20 years ago. The list of weird things happening to you just seems to get longer by the day.

“Right, I’m just not certain how to,” Loki said. You turned to look at him. The rain had plastered his hair to his forehead, the shoulder-length locks blocking his vision. Every so often he’d have to move the hair aside to see. There was something sweet about the image. If you weren’t stuck in your memories about to witness your first triple murder, you might’ve cared more.

Your own hair was getting in your eyes as the rain poured down hard. You didn’t remember it raining this much. “Okay, take a deep breath and do the same thing you did before, but now you’re leaving. It’s just exiting through that door you made.” You were anxious to leave as you could see your conversation wrapping up. You inwardly cursed when you saw Loki looking too.

Then, you heard gurgled screaming and choking, the sound of you killing the men. Shit. You thought, hoping Loki might not understand what just happened. Old You straightened out the women’s bodies before walking away. The blood almost reached the two of you as it was slowly washed away by the rain. You tried to step away with Loki. The rain turned the nice black dress Old You was wearing into a darker shade.

“What was that?” Loki asked, seeming surprised. Admittedly, you expected a stronger reaction than the one you were getting, but if it meant he’d forget this ever happened, you’d go with it.

“We need to leave. Close your eyes and take a breath, then walk out through the door.” Loki looked back over to Old You who was now walking toward the two of you, staring straight ahead. He allowed the subject to change and closed his eyes. The room once again changed and you both were back on the couch, legs crossed and eyes closed.

“Well, not bad.” You started, feeling a bit dizzy from the sudden invasion. “You might not want to dig that far, though. People don’t tend to appreciate when others go through their thoughts.” You were slightly frustrated. He had gone looking through things he had no business seeing. But on the other hand, he was new at this and you said you were alright with being his subject. He didn’t mean to go through your head. Hopefully.

“I apologize. I need to work on this. But…” He paused for a second. “What was that?”

“A memory. You know what I do to criminals. Those were criminals.” You weren’t ashamed of what you did, though the heroes would find it disgusting. You didn’t want your temporary friend to see you murder people. He would find it a lot less admirable than you would.

Loki nodded. “All criminals?” He asked. You heard the unspoken question. You considered yourself a good judge of character. After all, it became your job to know people. You understood how they worked and you knew bad people. In the time you spent with Loki, he didn’t act the same as them.

“I wouldn’t kill you, if that’s what you’re asking.” You said, your expression calm. He nodded again, accepting your answer. “Let’s try again. This time, try a little more restraint.” You said jokingly, closing your eyes once again.

By the end of your training session, Loki had improved. He was hardly an expert and even Wanda’s abilities were far more advanced than his. He’d get better with time, but that was something you didn’t have. And you certainly weren’t the best teacher out there.

***

Unfortunately for Fury and the Avengers, they forgot to make you promise not to find targets during your stay and the tower and you had managed to find a new one in New York. You were fully expecting the Captain to send someone over once they realized you were missing, but you could finish off a target before then. It was a fairly straightforward one. A low-level criminal who had been responsible for a string of murders.

You had heard about him from the news. The police weren’t recognizing it as a serial killer to keep the public from panicking, but you decided to do your own research. It was easy to connect him to all of them and find some evidence that he was guilty. Sadly, you had gotten all of this information illegally, so you decided to take care of him yourself. Just because you were sleeping somewhere else didn’t mean you’d let someone get away with murder.

It also helped that he had connections to your last target. In your (illegal) research, you had found one of the SPECTR files in his house. Though you were sure he wasn’t your shapeshifting mastermind, he might’ve known something, making him a perfect target.

***

“Yeah, she’s here.” Bucky said through the com. He heard Steve sigh on the other side.

“Well, try to stop her, but don’t anger her too badly. Without her helping, I don’t know if we’re going to find our guy.” Bucky nodded, though Steve wasn’t able to see him. Loki responded for him.

“The Sergeant is nodding. May I ask, why exactly are you sending us?” Loki was well aware that the team viewed him as untrustworthy, and he understood why. That, and he was still technically on ‘house arrest’ in Midgard, so the team rarely let him out of the tower.

In all fairness, they had sent both Bucky and Natasha with him, so he was still heavily guarded. Over time, he had come to respect the power each team member held, though he was certain he could beat most of them in hand to hand combat.

“She’s actually become friends with you three. If we were to send Tony in there, it’d be a whole different story.” Steve said. A faint “hey!” was heard in the background, but the small team paid no mind to it.

“We’ll be back out soon.” Natasha said.

“The car is ready when you are.” Steve said. He stopped talking and the group walked into the rundown apartment. It certainly wasn’t the cleanest of places and it looked like the perfect hideout for a serial killer. Eventually, they came to a long hall that branched out in different ways.

“Split up. If anyone finds her, don’t piss her off, it won’t go well. I’m pretty sure that woman can take a shot to the head, so she won’t care what weapons you have. She’s essential to saving who knows how many people so don’t get her mad.” The two men nodded before taking a different way and separating.

Loki traveled further down the hallway, doing his best to find you. Then, a thought crossed his mind. He had spent a good few hours in your mind, it couldn’t be that hard to find you, right?

He tried reopening the same door from earlier. He wasn’t a fan of learning analogies, but it seemed to be working so he didn’t question it.

“Spectr?”

He tried to find you in the building. He heard a sigh echo in his head, “This way.” You said, and he started walking forward. He wasn’t entirely certain where he was going, but he assumed you were leading him.

Soon enough, he ended up in one of the rooms. It was dusty and he could see how cobwebs coated the corners of the room. There was one dim light on the other side of the room. It was barely enough to see and the long shadows it cast across the room weren’t helping.

“We can go now anyway. I’m done.” You said, wiping a small knife on something below you. As he got closer, he could see it was the body of a… man? At least he thought it was. There wasn’t much to go off of since almost everything looked mangled. He was completely silent.

He had killed in his life. Plenty of times, actually. He’d fought beside his brother and his friends for hundreds of years and had destroyed a good part of New York not too long ago. But this felt different. And despite the mangled dead body right in front of him, he couldn’t help but wonder if you were okay.

“If you think this is bad, you should see his victims. Poor girls can’t even be identified with teeth.” You mistook his silence for disgust. Not to say he wasn’t unsettled.

“Are you alright?” He asked slowly, trying to spot any wounds on you. It was hard in the light, but you caught the glimpse of a gun in the dead man’s hands, so he was worried.

You stared at him. “You’re worried about me?” Loki nodded. In all honesty, he didn’t know why either. He hadn’t met you all that long ago and most of your time was spent silently reading books. But that’s what was fun. There were so few people who would sit and enjoy their time with him. Most people only put up with him, or spent the entire time trying to drag him out of his room. With you, it was quiet. But the good kind of quiet.

The kind of quiet that two friends can enjoy together. And it was that moment where he felt the tiniest spark. A small voice in the back of his mind that said “can we be more than that?”

And he wasn’t really sure what to think. Love had never gone well for him. On Asgard, he was an outcast. Anyone he fell for found him off-putting. And the people who did spend time with him only did so because they were friends with Thor or because he was royalty. He wasn’t sure he’d ever had a real friend. And now, he’d known you for barely two weeks and he only wanted to spend more time with you.

He wouldn’t call it love. Not yet. Even if it was, he was far from ready for something like that. This was more of a deep admiration. And a need to find out how soft your lips were.

So, he stared at you. There was blood on your chin. Only a small amount. You were standing over a corpse holding a knife and looking a bit malicious. But he didn’t care much.

“Well, the bastard got a few shots in, that’s for sure. You guys have a medical wing, right? I’m gonna need some tools. My wounds are already healing and I’m pretty sure there’s a few bullets still stuck.” You laughed. He reached up to his com, alerting the others that he had found you before escorting you outside.

You were more than uncomfortable. You were certain you had a few bullets in your arm, or maybe your stomach. You knew he hit you, but you weren’t really certain where.

“Spectr, you can’t do that.” Steve said from inside the car. Bucky was driving the group back with Loki in the front seat. Tony and Natasha had taken a different car.

“Actually, you never made me promise not to. And to be honest, even if I had promised, I still would’ve done it. He killed people Steve. Eight people actually. Only two have been identified. That’s how bad he left them.” You said, trying to get him to understand. “I’m letting someone like that walk free.” He didn’t say anything the rest of the ride.

He wasn’t happy with you. And he definitely wasn’t happy that a man was dead. But he knew the kind of people you targeted. However low-level, these weren’t good people.

Before you went to the medical wing, escorted by Bucky, you shoved a folder in his hand. He didn’t immediately recognize the language on the front, but upon opening it he saw pictures of you and Peggy. He smiled, tracing the image. They were old pictures. She looked the same as when he met her, and judging by the dates scribbled under some of the images, it was only a month or two before then. There were a few pictures of Howard there as well. One of the pictures was in a lab-like area and he could spot a few different shields in the background. It almost made him laugh. He was so close to meeting you and he never even knew you existed. Life was funny that way.

He read over the few pages that were in English. Whatever language it was, he certainly didn’t speak it. He’d have to ask Friday to translate. He didn’t notice something pop up repeatedly, even on the foreign pages. It looked like a signature, “Alter”.

With you in the medical wing, he figured it’d be best if he asked Tony about it first. He didn’t recognize the name at all, and Bucky was with you in the medical wing. He doubted Bucky would knew either.

“Friday?” He called.

“Yes, Captain Rogers?”

“Call a team meeting. Don’t Bucky and Spectr though, the sooner she finishes up with her wounds the better.”

“They’re on their way now.”

He nodded and began walking toward the meeting room. He passed by the medical ward quickly, just to make sure you weren’t severely hurt. He could see you stitching up your own wounds and he cringed a bit, not liking the thought of doing that for himself. He concluded that you were fine with Bucky.

The two of you were laughing actually. He headed back up to the briefing room, leaving Bucky to look after you instead.

***

[w-l-ink]

Word Prompt #39:

Write between one to three paragraphs (or more, if you’d like!) on the prompt given.

“Inure”– to accustom to accept something undesirable; to become of advantage (Merriam-Webster)

Let me know what you write!

[beautiful-words]

[iamthecrime]

[studyevenmore]

SAT Vocab 31: Inure

verb become accustomed to something unpleasant or unwelcome

“Morning, father,” you greet Snape, as you walk in the kitchen in the morning, your head messy enough to get lost there.

“Wash your face,” he murmurs, rolling the sleeves down to hide the old Mark that is left on his hand despite the war being long over.

“You know I can easily inure to the Mark, right?” you ask him quietly, and Snape freezes. “I mean, I will get used to it without even trying.”

“I don’t think you have to accustom or harder, Y/N,” he rolls the sleeves down and return to making breakfast. “Wash your face before the breakfast is ready.”

“I do love you no matter what happened before,” you shrug your shoulders, heading out of the kitchen. “And I think you should feel safe enough around your child to not hide your own hands.”

“I appreciate that,” you hear him answer quietly, and you know he won’t roll those sleeves up. Maybe one day.