Half of a man
Chapter One – Homeless
The last of the raindrops fell upon the window as she opened it to make her escape into the night. It had been one of the easiest missions ever, a game really if not anything. All she had to do was dress into a low cut dress, enter the reception and steal a list. Taking a lollipop from a child never seemed harder before.
She walked the streets for a while reaching the agency’s van to hand down the token.
“Easier than a walk, agent Romanoff?” they asked her and she smirked. She changed into a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a jacket so she would not draw attention when exiting the van a few minutes afterwards. Normally they would go to the headquarters but she declared the mission not worthy losing her sleep and demanded to be dropped near her apartment. After a small argument with Fury her wish was granted.
They dropped her off at Central park, her apartment being a good half an hour by foot. She sighed and started walking through the park. The smell of the damp earth and wet trees overwhelmed her. It was a good change, this air of freshness, in a city that lived in the fumes. She walked slowly, like making a joy trip in the park never letting her guard down. As wonderful as it may be Central Park hid many dangers at night.
It didn’t take her long to detect a rather vicious group of voices cursing and screaming. Her instinct kicked in and followed the sounds to identify the problem. She leaned over a bush carefully looking at the horrific sight. There were five men, well build, kicking and beating a poor man.
“Ain’t so tough now, are ya, princess?” one of them said kicking the poor man’s stomach. With a nod the rest of the gang took out their knives and got ready. He bent down and whispered something at his victim’s ear. Natasha couldn’t listen but she had had enough.
They never saw it coming; she was a shadow. A well taught super skilled shadow that knocked them down in a matter of seconds. She disposed their unconscious bodies and returned for the poor man they had tortured. The lights were dim and barely enough to make out his skinny form rapped in rags.
A homeless man.
Her anger took the better of her. Oh, how brutal, how manly they must have felt beating up a weak, homeless man. She kneeled next to him to check him out further. To her surprise he was still, somewhat conscious, breathing rapidly, his eyes shut tightly. She got her sleeve up to reveal her bracelet, a small gift from goofy Stark. She pushed a button and a small light came out of it.
Her eyes went wider than it was possible.
His hair were long past his shoulders, his face, scarred, dirty, hidden behind a thick bear but it was him none the less.
“Loki?” she said before she could hold it.
He stirred in her voice and his eyes went wide open with an emotion she would never picture in them.
She thought she saw a hint of recognition but it turned to shame as fast as it came.
He closed his eyes again and let his head fall along with a sigh; his breath barely audible at all.