Hey, guys. Not sure if any of you are still keeping an eye on this story. Damn, it's been a while. I've had a lot to go through in the past couple of years. I lost of lot of people that were really important to me. This story just sort of got forgotten in all the mess. I still plan to finish this off, though. There aren't many more chapters left, I don't think, and I want to do this the justice of finishing strong. Anyway, enjoy, and as always, let me know what you think. :-)

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The city was silent.

A gentle breeze carried ash and dust down the streets, between the twisted carcasses of skyscrapers and the charred skeletons of abandoned vehicles. A place that had been humming with life a few hours earlier was now eerily still. Among the rubble were bodies. Men in crimson business suits lay crumpled on the sidewalks, hands still clutching their briefcases. Women were draped over the hoods of cars, faces to the sun, hair glittering as it moved in the soft wind. Small children lay on their sides, knees drawn up to their chests, eyes open as they stared blankly down the quiet streets.

High above the city, on the pinnacle of Stark Tower, a lone figure knelt, gazing down on the destruction below like a god gazing down from the heavens. Her head was bowed and her eyes stared, unblinking, from below the curtain of her lashes. She appeared motionless, but for the movement of her hair in the wind, and the slight tremble in her fingers, and the tears that slowly trailed down her cheeks and dripped off her chin onto the ground at her feet.

A man's voice spoke behind her.

"Charlotte Foster, you are being taken in for questioning. You are now in the custody of S.H.I.E.L.D. Please do not make any attempts to resist."

Rough, warm hands twisted her arms behind her and she felt the cool touch of metal restraints on her wrists. She was unceremoniously pulled to her feet and led from the building. Everything around her seemed distant, as if she was lost in a dream from which she couldn't wake. Sights and sounds blurred together in a kaleidoscope of sensations that made her head spin.

She soon found herself in a cell. The walls were white, the floor was white, the cot was white, the lights on the ceiling were white. The brightness burned her eyes. She collapsed onto the floor and drew her knees up to her chest. Squeezing her eyes shut, she listened as the hum in her mind grew louder and louder until she couldn't stand it anymore.

And then, everything went mercifully dark.

It could have been hours, it could have been days. When Lottie's eyes slowly opened again, she felt completely disoriented. But her mind was clear and her hands were steady, so she cautiously pushed herself up off the floor and to her feet. She was in a small cubicle. It contained only a bed, a sink, a toilet, and a mirror hanging on the wall. As she scanned the room, she briefly caught her reflection in the polished glass. Her hair was tangled and greasy. Her eyes were consumed by the cavernous black circles beneath them. Her face was streaked with ash and splattered with blood. She felt her stomach turn and she dove for the toilet, heaving as she wretched up blood and clear fluid. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she sat heavily beside the toilet and leaned her head against the cool ceramic. Closing her eyes, she exhaled slowly and resigned herself to whatever came next. What was done, was done. She had done it all for him. If she could go back and do it differently, she knew she would still choose him.

Minutes crept by and became hours. At some point, she dragged herself over to the cot and flung herself upon it in a restless sleep. Dreams flitted around the edge of her awareness like creatures hiding in a dark forest, always present but never fully seen.

The sound of her name being spoken from strange lips was what roused her again. Her eyes slowly focused on the figure standing just inside her cell door. It was a woman. She had short, red hair, a lusciously proportioned body, and the sort of face that silently promises to either make you ecstatic or make you suffer. Lottie slowly swung her feet down to the floor and stood, every muscle in her body tense with uncertainty.

"Come on," the woman said. Her voice was husky and impatient. She turned to go, beckoning for Lottie to follow.

In spite of Lottie's superior height and longer legs, she had to nearly jog to keep up with the other woman. They wove through stark white hallways, up cold metal stairs, and past soaring doorways into unseen rooms. Finally, they passed through a final set of doors and out into the daylight.

They were in a large parking lot, surrounded by a clearing in the middle of a forest. The sun was just at its peak overhead, and a group of men stood a few yards ahead. Lottie squinted to make out the figures. She instantly recognized Thor; broad-shouldered and blonde-headed. Beside him was a tall man in dark sunglasses, with a glowing blue sphere at the center of his shirt. There was a short man with glasses and curly hair, and several others behind him, but Lottie didn't bother to look any closer, for her gaze was now fixed on one man. Loki.

He stood behind Thor, eyes cold, skin pale, posture rigid. A metal gag covered the lower half of his face, like a muzzled dog in a cage. Shackles and chains hung heavily from his wrists and ankles and trailed on the ground behind him. His eyes met Lottie's for a split second before he once again directed his gaze staunchly toward an unseen point on the horizon. He had closed himself off. She could feel it.

Thor stepped toward her. "Charlotte Foster," he said, the note of sadness in his voice unmistakable, "you have become an enemy of this Earth and are hereby considered a war criminal. You have joined your actions to those of my brother, Loki, and in doing so you have shared in his shame and wickedness. Were you to remain here, upon Earth, you would certainly be put to death. However, we have agreed that your fate will not be decided by the people of Earth. Instead, you will return to Asgard, where your punishment will be determined by the Allfather. He alone will know how best to handle your treason."

Hands gripped Lottie's elbows and affixed shackles to her wrists. She was led toward Loki, who refused to acknowledge her. A thick, short chain was used to bind her wrists to his.

Thor withdrew the Tesseract from a case. It had been sheathed in metal, and handles had been attached to either end, but the unmistakable blue glow and the hum of energy remained.

"The Tesseract will remain safe upon Asgard. It will no longer be used to wreak havoc upon the people of Earth," said Thor.

He extended one of the handles toward Loki, who silently wrapped his fingers around the metal. Thor, holding firmly to the opposite end, turned his gaze toward the sun.

"Take us home," he murmured.