Warnings/Notes: WIP, Crossover/AU. This is probably set after The Avengers, but trying to avoid getting totally Jossed, so I'll withhold a firm decision till May. This takes place after my story, The House of Keebler.
Character(s): Methos, Loki, Nick Fury, Duncan MacLeod, Phil Coulson, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov, Charlotte Sparrow
Summary: Methos doesn't believe in fairy tales – or gods.
Methos practically ran to Fury's office when he was told that Thor had returned, eager to know if he had discovered anything on Asgard, despite believing that the nothing would come of his journey. But he was unable to wholly remove hope; he desperately wanted to be wrong. Pushing open the door, his heart fell; it only took one look at the faces of those assembled to tell him that the news was not good. It was clear that Coulson and Fury already knew what Thor had learned.
"Sit down, Doctor," Fury told him.
Nodding, he sank into a black leather chair, waiting for Thor to speak. The Asgardian stood by the far window, his stance radiating defeat. "Just tell me," he demanded.
Thor took a step towards Methos. "I spoke to Bragi, who is chief amongst the healers of my realm. You were correct, it is a poison – Svefn af Snærr, the Snow Sleep, the art of its making long thought lost. It seems that Loki delved deep into the arts of the Frost Giants, rediscovering that which would be better off forever forgotten."
"There is no antidote," Methos stated. Thor shook his head. Of course there wasn't. Loki wouldn't have gone to all this trouble if Thor could just drop by the Asgardian Walgreens and make it all better.
"Not one of our making, no. The cure, like the poison, is tied to the essence of its maker, what you call DNA."
"Assuming Loki made an antidote," Coulson said sourly
Methos shook his head. "No, I refuse to believe that! He has to have one if he wants me to cooperate. I need to know that Charlotte will be well when all this is over before I will do anything he wants."
"Loki will keep his word, if it is given." Thor seemed certain of that.
"As long as I avoid any loopholes."
"Indeed," Thor agreed.
"He'll be contacting you soon," Coulson said. "He's just been waiting until you knew there were no options left."
Methos got out of the chair, standing up. "Well then, gentlemen, it's time I made myself available."
After Methos left, Coulson looked at his boss. "So that's the plan? He wanders the streets waiting for Loki to make contact?
"More or less." A thoughtful expression settled over his face. "I sure as hell would like to know just what Loki finds so fascinating about Adamson. If all he wanted was an Immortal to play with, he could have snatched a random one with none the wiser. But he goes to all this trouble to get the good doctor. Why?"
Thor shrugged slightly. "My brother has always been partial to creating mischief. Perhaps his choice of the ancient one, and the means by which he's done so, is merely a desire for drama."
"Maybe." Fury didn't look like he believed it.
"It might not just be about Adamson," Coulson offered.
"What do you mean?" Fury asked.
"He knows a lot about us, sir. Knows a lot about you. Maybe Adamson is just the door prize, and targeting Miss Sparrow is aimed at you. Playing on your past together in the SSI – she was a part of your team, someone you have a bond with, emotional ties to. It would keep you off balance, distracted." Fury raised an eyebrow at that. Coulson cleared his throat. "Sir."
"Killing two birds with one stone? It's definitely convoluted enough for the bastard." Then he shook his head. "Get Barton in here."
"Not good news then," Duncan MacLeod said as Methos entered Charlotte's room.
"No." He looked at Charlotte, sighing tiredly. Then he turned to Duncan. "I'm glad you're here," he said, squeezing Duncan's shoulder gratefully. He'd got the clearance for the Highlander to be here not long after Charlotte had been brought in.
"I wouldn't be anywhere else, you know that." Duncan reached up, putting his hand over Methos' reassuringly.
"Yeah, I do." Then he asked, "Where's Ezra?" The younger Immortal had flown in from China as soon as he'd been informed of what had happened, and hadn't left her side since he'd arrived. Ezra hadn't needed Methos to get access to SHIELD HQ; he, along with Charlotte, and his late wife, Molly Tanner, had served with Nick Fury during World War Two. When it had been time for the two Immortals to move on, Fury had made sure that they had ironclad new identities. Fury meant it when he said SHIELD looked out for its own.
"I made him go get something to eat." Duncan stood up. "He needed a break."
"You're more convincing than I am, apparently."
Duncan chuckled. "I can't take all the credit; Agent Romanov helped to persuade him. She's one very determined woman, and a little scary too."
Methos cracked a smile at that, before turning serious once more. "I have to go, Mac, play out this hand so I can get an antidote for the poison. I need you to take care of Charlotte for me if anything happens…I don't come back… I need to know you'll watch out for her." He was assuming nothing when it came to Loki. What worried him was that the God of Mischief reminded him all too much of himself when he'd been not much younger. Full of anger at the universe, raging at the cosmos, demanding retribution for injuries both imagined and very real.
"I will." He nodded sharply. "You don't need to worry; I'll watch over her till you come back." There was no doubt in his voice that his friend would return, and it gave Methos a sense of certainty he hadn't felt since Charlotte had fallen at his feet on a bed of rose petals.
Walking to the bed, Methos leaned down, kissing Charlotte's cold lips. "I will do whatever it takes to bring you back, dearest Charlotte. If you can hear me, wherever it might be that your spirit wanders, remember our love, and know that I always do."
The wind moaned, as if in grief, stripping all hope from any that might hear its desperate wail. The cloaked woman, pressing on through the drifting snow, was the only being in the forest to hear; neither fox nor squirrel stirred under the snow laden boughs. Wrapping her arms around herself, trying to ward off the sense of doom that the wind brought with it, she halted. She had walked and walked, though for how long, she did not know. The sky neither lightened nor darkened; all was perpetual gloom. Excruciating cold had settled deep into her bones, her blood, leeching away the will to carry on. Hopeless. Closing her eyes, she sank down into the snow, her grey cloak billowing around her like a storm cloud as it settled around her. She would let the wind carry the news of her death to whomever there might be that had known her. As she fell into unconsciousness, words of comfort drifted past her, and her last thought was that someone had loved her, once upon a time.
Arms lifted her, a beautiful voice whispering reassurance at her ear. She tried to open her eyes, but the voice said no, told her to sleep, that he would take care of her now that he had found her again. It was if she had no will of her own, and obeying the soft command, she fell down into a dreamless sleep.
My Fic Announce Journal here: ithildin_wood