Hello, readers! Thank you for clicking on this story. Before we start, a few notes...

One: I obviously don't own any of the Marvel characters, which are owned by, well, Marvel - though I wish I did own Loki, because he's just so interesting. I do however own my OC, and anything pertaining to her, and any other OCs that may pop up in later chapters.

Two: This fiction is based on the Thor MOVIE. I haven't ever read the comics (though I would like to), so if there is anything that wasn't in the movie that was in them (which I'm sure there is) I'm sorry.

Three: This fiction takes place post-Thor, pre-Avengers. More on that later...

Enjoy!

The Science of Mystery

Chapter One: Old and Worn Memories

Austin didn't know what she was expecting as she pulled up to the small, white trailer, located in a small little town in New Mexico, USA.

Maybe she'd been expecting to see her father, Erik Selvig, scientist who spent too much time on his work, there waiting for her. Or maybe she'd been expecting the trailer to be bigger, more luxurious – or for her father to live in a house, where they wouldn't be cramped for space. Or maybe she'd even been expecting the town where her father lived to be a bit bigger, a bit more exciting and lively.

Maybe she'd been hoping that her father would meet her and say that he was okay, that she could go home, that she didn't need to stay.

But, whatever Austin had been hoping, somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she certainly didn't get it as she parked the black Jeep she'd rented in front of the small little place, feeling her heart sink even further in her chest as she thought about what she was up against.

"Not even here," Austin muttered as she turned the Jeep off and took the keys from the ignition, glad that it was still light out, since the banged-up trailer didn't seem to have a porch-light attached to it – not that she'd been expecting one. "Not even present. I can't believe he forgot," Austin sighed heavily as she looked into the Jeep's mirror, seeing blue eyes stare back at her, wanting to start tearing.

Truthfully, she could believe it. She'd known it was coming, had known that her father would forget that he was supposed to meet her, since most of the time, he seemed to forget she even existed.

Not that it was entirely his fault.

Austin felt another sigh leave her as she wiped away the tears she refused to shed, brushing her curly, auburn bangs from her face. She reached for the phone lying in her purse as she pushed the Jeep's door open and clambered out, suppressing a shiver as the cold air hit her.

She didn't know why she'd been expecting it to be hot in New Mexico, near the desert – it wasn't like anything else during her trip had gone according to plan.

Ride to the airport: traffic. Checking in for her flight: unexpected fees. Searching for her flight: layover and plane switch. Said airplane flight: cramped, smelling, and sitting next to a guy who looked like he'd had one too many beers. Arrival in New Mexico: nearly a day late, with all but her carry-on bag missing, lost somewhere in flight transition. Car rental: much too expensive.

Arrival at her father's "home": he had forgotten her again.

Austin held the phone to her ear with one hand and grabbed her purse and carry-on bag with another as she inspected the trailer with frowning glances. The thing her father called home was maybe the size of three Jeep's, with slightly peeling paint, and drawn curtains. On one end she suspected there was a kitchen – probably small and cramped as well – and on the other end, she could see something that looked like it might be a bedroom.

Austin silently prayed that her father had had the decency to clear the bedroom out for her use as the phone rang in her ear– he was obviously never home, and he'd always slept on the couch, anyway.

The phone rang a few more times, and then went to voicemail, her father's voice reciting a curt "leave me a message" before the phone beeped in her ear again. Austin fought the urge to swear at him, both annoyed and angry that he wasn't picking up, as well, though she didn't want to admit it, slightly hurt.

"Hey, dad, I'm..." she chewed on her lip as she glanced at the trailer, trying to think of what to say. She didn't want to yell at him – not now, when she'd just arrived; she'd didn't want to start another argument, since they seemed to have so many. "I'm in front of your trail – er, house. You were supposed to meet me, remember?" Austin let out yet another sigh as she looked at the sky, which was slowly darkening.

"My flight came in late, so I figured you'd already be here. I guess you forgot," Austin had to fight to keep the contempt out of her voice on that note. "Anyway, call me back, alright? I'll be waiting out front," Austin paused a moment as she looked down from the sky to the dusty ground, before reciting the farewell she had always given him. "P.S, dad, this is Austin...and I still love you," the call was ended as soon as the words left her mouth, and Austin walked over to the front steps of the trailer and sat down, setting her purse and carry-on bag beside her.

Austin could scarcely remember the last time she'd actually seen her dad in the flesh, but as her goodbye echoed in her mind, she thought back, remembering the happier times the two of them had had. The goodbye itself was an echo from a Country song, the "main character" of which was a girl who was also named Austin.

As Austin closed her eyes, she could see it – the time before her father had been insanely busy, when he'd still been convinced that she needed him. It had been before her parent's divorce, before her father had delved himself head-on into his work, before any of the chaos in her life had started. Back then, she'd had a real family, and though her dad had never liked it, they'd even listened to Country, laughing when the song containing her name played on the radio.

But things weren't like that anymore. Her mother had moved on, her father had found something else to love, and though she still spoke to them, Austin couldn't help but feel like her life had been put on pause, caught somewhere in the middle of things...

Austin traded her sighs for tears as she tucked her legs close to her chest and tipped her head, one lonely sob echoing as her forehead found her knees.

Scientist Erik Selvig felt shaky yet elated as he opened the door to his SUV, hurrying to slide into the driver's seat and close the door behind him before he lost his balance, footing, or ability to breathe.

He couldn't believe it, the thing he had just seen. It was still pulling at the edges of his mind, still fascinating him, though it was now gone from his vision. As he hurriedly closed his eyes, pulling in a shaky breath, he could see it floating in his mind's eye – glowing, dangerous yet alluring, a secret to which he was privy to, a secret that he knew.

The Cube.

He truthfully didn't know what else to call it, because as sure as he knew, it didn't actually have a name. But considering what it was, he didn't feel like it needed one, either. It was an object that could exist without being called something, that may have been too powerful to be termed with a simple word.

But still, he would call it the Cube...for identification purposes only.

Erik fought to control his erratic breathing as he started his SUV and put it in drive, pulling slowing out of the car garage's parking spot. He still found it a wonder that there even was a car garage in his little town, but he guessed with S.H.E.I.L.D. around, he shouldn't have been surprised. The strange, secret government agency didn't seem to be limited on funds or on property, considering they'd been able to set up a base in his town almost immediately after the...incident that had occurred there recently.

Erik was almost back to his normal self as he headed towards the exit of the parking garage, glad to see some sunlight at last, though images of the strange, glowing Cube still flickered through his mind. He reached forward to turn up the radio, wanting to wish the thoughts away until he could get home, focus on them, but his fingers had barely brushed the dial when suddenly the SUV exited the parking garage, sunlight bathing it immediately.

And as soon as there was sunlight, he appeared, sitting in the passenger's seat, as if he'd been conjured straight from the darkness.

"Well, you seem to be quite taken with the new development," he said in a sentence of perfect articulation, a small, smug smile on his pale face.

Erik didn't turn to look at him, fought again to control his breathing – and every other signal he was giving off, anything that might have told Loki about his uneasiness, his anxiety, his fear, or his glee over the new "development".

He was having to do a lot of that these days – try and control his emotions, his body language. Because though he had agreed to side with Loki, Norse god of mischief, freely, sometimes he saw his decision as more of a mistake.

But how could he not? He was more than willing to admit to himself that he didn't fully trust Loki. And how could he be expected to trust him, when Loki always seemed to be watching, waiting, searching for some advantage he might have, for some mistake that was made, for something that he could use to his advantage?

He'd done that, since the moment they had met.

Guess it's really more of my fault, then. Erik thought as he internally sighed, wanting to stop and rub his temples, his head starting to hurt from the turmoil that lay in him. Guess I should have never agreed to this...

But, when he thought about what he had agreed to, his worry seemed to drift away. After all, a life without problems sounded like a nice thing. Critical acclaim over a science he himself had proven sounded like a nice thing. And if he were rich and famous, he wasn't going to complain. Maybe if things worked the way they were supposed to, he'd finally catch up to his ex-wife...

Erik really did sigh then, cutting a turn too hard, after which he received a pointed glance from Loki. Just as he'd fought with his breathing and fought with his emotions, he then fought with his reasoning.

He couldn't be doing this. He couldn't be rethinking things. It wasn't like he could back out of the deal, suddenly decide that he wasn't willing to side with the god of mischief. That would most likely mean death, and he'd lose the possibility of all of the things he'd been dreaming of.

No, he couldn't afford to back down. This time, his life depended on it.

"Yeah, well, like you said, I think it could use some looking into – the Cube," Erik finally found his voice as the SUV moved through the town, and he winced ever so slightly as he saw it: the remains of buildings, the blackness from the fires, the people rebuilding what had once been successfully flourishing.

The fight. He remembered it. He remembered how it had played out, how Thor had saved them all, and he regretted his decision yet again.

What was he doing?

Recognition. Erik reminded himself as he stole a glance at Loki, who was now looking out the window at the chaos he himself had created with the Destroyer, another smug, nearly dangerous smile playing on his lips. But then the smile turned into an ugly frown, and he looked away, glancing at Erik again sharply, as if realizing his mistake.

And Erik was sure he knew what the mischief god had been thinking about. He was sure that his thoughts had roamed towards his brother, Thor, who was still alive, who had beaten him (or so Erik liked to think, since Loki would only say that he had decided to leave Asgard to incite revenge on his brother, who had thoroughly wronged him, making all the mortals believe that he was the one who had been wronged in turn, when he'd actually been banished – and for good reason).

But Erik was glad that Thor was still alive – if for no one else but Jane, who had been both a walking shadow and a fiercely working scientist since he'd disappeared.

Erik found himself wishing then that everyone would win – that Loki would somehow get his revenge without killing his brother, that Thor would come back, and that he would get his recognition. Then he immediately abandoned this hope, knowing that it would never happen, not in the real, physical world.

"I assume your study is to be conducted immediately," Loki's words almost made Erik jump, his SUV drifting quickly to the edge of the road before he righted it. He didn't miss the acidic tone in Loki's voice, showing his disdain for any "study" that mortals may have conducted.

Erik shook his head and smiled good-naturedly. He wasn't about to argue and make Loki angry. He already knew that the Asgardians were advanced well beyond the "mortals" like him, and that some of them (a.k.a. Loki) didn't have qualms about stating it.

"Yes, the study should be started soon. Probably," Erik saw Loki's green eyes drift to him sharply when he said the word "probably", no doubt measuring the truth of his statement. "Fury said that Jane will be debriefed after she accepts the assignment – if she accepts it, which I'm sure she will," he turned another turn on that note, frowning.

He was more than sure that Jane would accept, probably seeing the Cube as another step towards finding and/or reaching Thor.

"Jane," the name dripped off of Loki's silver tongue placidly, and Erik felt something inside of him shrink. "You are referring to my brother's Jane, am I correct?" he looked stonily thoughtful as he directed the question at Erik, expression like a simple mask.

Erik swallowed once before nodding. He didn't like to say much about Jane, afraid that if he did, Loki may do something to her – not that he could stop the god if that was what he'd decided to do, anyway; after all, how could he possibly go up against someone who was magic?

Erik suspected Loki was about to say more on the subject, perhaps deftly pick his brain for more information, when suddenly an annoying beep rang out through the SUV, Erik's phone signaling that he was being called. Erik glanced down at his phone, ignoring Loki's slightly annoyed look at the sound of the mortal technology, puzzled that anyone would be calling him.

Jane was no doubt working late at the lab, as she always did, and wouldn't call him until late that night, when she decided that she'd had enough, and was going to drift off to sleep – that or she would call him if there were an emergency, or if she found some amazing new discovery, both of which Erik highly doubted would occur. Darcy never called him at all, unless she brainlessly pressed the wrong name on her contact list, and he had just left the presence of S.H.I.E.L.D., so he doubted that they would be calling him...

Erik felt his throat nearly close in on him as he saw the name listed.

Austin.

His mind traveled miles away in an instant, to his trailer, where his daughter would now be, waiting on him. He'd completely forgotten about her visiting him, staying with him for a few months. He'd completely forgotten that she existed that day, in fact, so wrapped up in his life's recent events.

And he felt horrible for it – terribly, awfully horrible.

It wasn't like he'd meant to forget about Austin. He loved his daughter dearly, still saw her as his little girl, though she was now almost twenty-one. And though he rarely had time to spare, he always tried to make time to talk to her at least, wanting to know how her life was going.

He'd been excited about the prospect of her coming to stay with him, in the beginning, sometimes around Thor's arrival. He'd prepared things for them to do – what could be done in his small, little town. He'd even planned on showing her his research, knowing that, though she wasn't a scientist like he'd wanted her to be, she would no doubt be interested.

But all of that had washed down the drain the moment that Loki had appeared before him, with that small, mischievous smile of his. All he'd been worried about was his new life, his new plans, the things that he had to keep straight.

His research. His work. S.H.I.E.L.D. Jane. The Cube.

And Loki.

Most definitely Loki - who he was both awed by, and terrified of.

Erik was about to say something to Loki, try and give him some excuse as to why he should leave him alone for the night and not bother him with any more questions, wanting to finding a quick, safe way to send Austin home before the dangerous god found out about her, when suddenly, he heard it – a voice, coming from his phone.

His voicemail was playing.

"I do believe you have a message," Loki told Erik in an almost innocent voice then, as if he were doing Erik a favor by pressing the voicemail's button.

Since coming to Earth (or Midgard, if you wanted to be technical about it), Loki had learned more than a few things about technology from Erik, who now regretted teaching him how to access his phone's voicemail.

Erik tried to think of a way to cut off the message as he looked down at his phone, feeling fear creep into him. He didn't want to simply end the call – that would have seemed suspicious – but then again, he didn't want Loki knowing about Austin, either. It was a miracle she had stayed a secret from him for this long.

Erik could come up with no plan, however, and so Austin's deflated voice rang out through the SUV.

"Hey, dad, I'm..." Erik felt sick when he heard her voice, though a small part of him was glad. "I'm in front of your trail – er, house. You were supposed to meet me this afternoon, remember?" Erik snuck a glance at Loki as the message played on, seeing the dark-haired god staring at his phone intently, as if lost in thought. "My flight came in late, so I figured you'd already be here. I guess you forgot. Anyway, call me back, alright? I'll be waiting out front," Erik let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding when Austin's voice disappeared, glad that she hadn't recited her goodbye as normal, then –

"P.S, dad, this is Austin, and – "

Austin's voice disappeared quickly as Erik stopped in the middle of traffic and reached down, pressing the "end call" button on his phone, finding that he was panting.

No. No. No. No. No.

No!

This was awful! How could he have let this happen? How could he have let Loki find out about Austin? How could he have been so stupid? Why hadn't he tried to act differently, tried not to panic?

He couldn't believe that he'd put his daughter in danger like this.

"You have a daughter," Loki said the words in an off-hand tone, though Erik could sense the malice underneath. "You failed to tell me that."

Erik laughed as the car behind him honked, and he rolled down the window, waving an apology, before he began to drive again. "Yeah," he said, trying to be nonchalant about it, as if it didn't matter to him, trying to downplay the panic attack he had just had. "I forgot she was coming. She's only staying for the weekend. I'll be glad when she's gone," he even added an extra sigh at the end, trying to make his farce believable.

But one look in Loki's direction told him that he hadn't succeeded, because the god was staring at him, a small look of triumph on his normally calm face.

"The weekend, you say?" he asked, as if he hadn't heard Erik right. "Sad she won't be with you longer," Erik was sure he was going to be sick as he stopped at a light, turning to look Loki full in the face.

Erik had to admit that, sometimes, Loki looked almost inhuman – too pale, with hair too dark, with features too finely chopped. Sometimes, Erik didn't even think he looked Asgardian, didn't look anything like Thor, his brother, even though they were related. All in all, he really thought Loki looked more like a statue – handsome and real in a cold, unmoving sort of way.

Erik swallowed the lump that had risen in his throat, completely ignoring the light as it turned green – the interfering god's seemingly favorite color – finding himself blurting out: "She can't know who you are!"

He didn't know why this was the first thing he said in Austin's defense, but it was. Perhaps he said it because he knew that, no matter how much he begged, there was no way that Loki would stay completely away from Austin – not when she might prove to be a handhold over Erik, might prove to be useful, or at the least, entertaining. But he knew that, if he could keep the truth of who Loki really was away from Austin then...maybe she'd be safer?

At least, she wouldn't go looking for any trouble that way.

"Why ever not?" Loki's smile curved at the tips as he challenged Erik, who suddenly doubted he would win, the cars that wanted to move honking behind him, earning him more bad driver points. "I informed you of who I was from the start, and our relationship has been sound so far."

Erik wracked his brain, then said: "B-Because, you're not human," he saw Loki raise one thin, black eyebrow, obviously not satisfied with that, and he tried again, finally moving forward on the road. His nerves were getting the best of him, and he knew it. "Because, it's one more person knowing that you're here, one more person that could lead S.H.I.E.L.D. to you," Erik turned his eyes back to the read, not wanting to see Loki's green, unsettling gaze, hoping that this information worked.

Truth be told, he wasn't sure whether Loki was afraid of S.H.I.E.L.D. or not – though he sincerely doubted it. He knew that the organization was looking for the god, and he knew that for now, Loki was hiding himself from them, but he had no evidence to state whether or not he cared whether he was found.

Erik didn't think it would be long before Loki revealed himself to S.H.I.E.L.D., though – though he was sure that he'd disappear right after. He didn't seem afraid or anything. Maybe it was because without Thor there, on Earth, there was really no one to challenge him, which made him powerful – and he knew it. That, and, Erik had realized, Loki seemed to have a complex about being noticed...

Despite his want to not look in Loki's direction, Erik found himself glancing that way, catching Loki's slightly amused look as he did. "When I find a problem, Doctor, I erase it," the mischief-maker said in a tone that was almost condescending, almost a warning. "However, you may actually be right in this case. So for now...I believe I will play your little game. It may even be amusing," Erik felt an anger bubble stir in him when he heard that, but clamped it down, opting for an accepting smile instead.

At least Loki was being cooperative, though he was sure it had a more sinister ring than simply "amusing". Erik knew he was in too deep for "amusing".

In fact, he was just in too deep, and now he had dragged Austin in with him – Austin, who had her whole life ahead of her...or maybe not, if Loki had anything to do with it, since he didn't seem to be particularly fond of "mortals".

Erik made a pact with himself as he turned down another rode, the one leading to his home. He would do everything in his power to keep Austin safe – would, in two days, by the end of the weekend, send her home, where Loki would still be able to reach her, but where she would at least be further away. He would do everything he could to give Austin something he had been depriving her of for a long time – hope.

He would give her hope, even if all he did was keep her alive.

"So," Erik asked as he turned down his last street, this one bumpy and gravely, his trailer resting only a half a mile ahead. He turned his gaze towards Loki, who minutely raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you think of the name Steve?"

Erik saw Loki shoot him a small glare and an ugly frown before he suddenly vanished, and Erik turned his head back to the road, seeing his trailer almost immediately.

Austin took a deep breath as she reached for the latch to her father's trailer's door, pulling it...grimacing as the door suddenly opened, swinging towards her creakily.

Of course. She didn't know why she hadn't thought of it before. If her father was nothing else, he was always absentminded – at least, he was when it came to things that didn't involve science, like remembering to pay his bills, remembering to meet his daughter the day she arrived in town, and locking the door to his small excuse for a home.

Austin took another deep breath as she turned and grabbed her bags, before throwing them over her shoulder and entering the little abode, closing the heavy metal door behind her, smelling something distinctly stale. It had been perhaps ten minutes since she had called her dad, though to her, it honestly seemed like it had been an eternity. Austin set her bags down by the small couch as she took a look around, feeling her heart sink with every new glance.

"Mom was right," Austin said to herself as she took in the trailer's contents – a mess of things that were scattered, broken, wrinkled, old, or just plain dirty. She bypassed a stack of trash, falling out of its bag, as she made her way over to the kitchenette, hoping she could rummage around for a drink. "I guess it is a good thing that I decided to come..." she bit her lip on that note as she opened up the trailer's mini-fridge, finding too-old takeout bins, a disgusting selection of beers, and a few water bottles, one of which she grabbed.

Her mother had been overly insistent that she come visit her father, spend some quality time with him, and now Austin new why.

There was obviously something wrong with him, though she had no idea what. Busy or not, forgetful or not, his place shouldn't have been such a mess, and he shouldn't have been forgetting the important things – like coming to meet her at his "house".

Austin shook her head as she glance around another time, trying to decide where to begin. She unscrewed the top of the water bottle she held and nearly downed the whole thing before she turned, deciding to start with the closest space – the "kitchen".

In the "kitchen" Austin found all sorts of things – too-old food, too many dishes that were beyond her ability to scrub clean, and more than a few dead and alive bugs. And once the "kitchen" was clean, she moved onto the "living room", finding things that needed to be put away, laundry that needed to be stuffed into a hamper and taken to the laundry mat, and rearranging what she assumed her father considered his "desk" (though honestly it was a small, booth-like table located near the kitchen's entryway). Austin made her way into the bedroom last, pulling her bags along and depositing them there, but found, with astonishment, that the achingly small bedroom wasn't even dirty – in fact, it didn't look as if her father had ever touched it.

Does he sleep on the couch? Austin wondered as she sat her bags down on the bed, which all but engulfed the tiny little room, finding a minute little laptop space sitting next to the room's window, which put a smile on her face. He must come home and crash...

But that wasn't normal, was it? She knew he was an important scientist, and that he had amazing, life-altering work that he dealt with, but...surely he had to have had a life on top of all of that?

Though, if Austin thought back through the past ten years, she realized something – he didn't have a life, probably hadn't had one since that horrible day, when her parents had finally ended things.

And though she could hope that her father's overly-focused schedule was simply a way to cope with the loss of his family, she highly doubted it. He still spoke to her mom, and he scorned the profession she had chosen to place herself in – she didn't think he even missed them.

At least, not enough. Otherwise, he would have been at the airport to pick her up, or at least had the decency to meet her, or call her back...

Austin nearly jumped as her pocket vibrated suddenly, her phone ringing, signaling that someone was calling, wanting to talk to her. Her pulse racing, she pulled the phone from her pocket, a small smile wanting to stretch across her face, but when she looked down, she found herself disappointed.

It wasn't her father. Not by a long shot.

Austin huffed as she made her way to the trailer's old-fashioned, checkered couch, pushing aside a stack of thick, hardcover books, the only thing she hadn't put away yet. She let herself relax as she sank into the cushions, pressing the "accept" button on her phone, adjusting her zip-up jacket so that her arms were free.

Austin took a breath to answer, but a voice, smirking and smiling, responded from the other end before she could even speak.

"So, sold a million copies of that book yet?" a slightly snarky, male voice asked, and despite her disappointment at her father not calling, Austin couldn't help but smile at the question.

"No, I haven't, Tony," she replied as she began to twirl a lock of her hair, noticing a few split ends. She then rolled her eyes. "I haven't even finished the book, let alone released it."

Austin felt her smile spread as she imagined the face of her friend, and the grin that would no doubt be on it. She then wondered why he hadn't used his phone-cam, why she wasn't seeing his face. Maybe he was on the phone when he shouldn't have been? It certainly wouldn't have been the first time he'd been reckless...

"Really? Slacking is not a good trait to have – trust me, I should know," Austin laughed as Tony continued on, refusing to let her off the hook just yet. In the background, she could hear a strange sort of rustling, whooshing, maybe something moving. "By my account, you should already be even more famous than me," he said in a tone that suggested he was both happy and a little affronted by the idea.

Austin's laugh picked up its pace as she tried to imagine this, finding that she couldn't.

"I don't know anyone who could be more famous than the Iron Man," Austin quieted her laugh to say seriously, finding that she meant it.

Most people were shocked when they learned that Austin knew and talked with Tony Stark, a.k.a. Iron Man, but to her, the idea felt normal – comforting, even. She had known Tony for nearly ten years now, and though he was a bit of a sadist, was sarcastic, and sometimes gave her more trouble than what he was worth, he was also the best friend that she had – maybe even the only friend.

"Alright, so tell me the truth, how have you been?" Austin felt her muscles tense ever so slightly as Tony's voice turned uncharacteristically serious, like a lead weight had just been dropped into her chest cavity. "Your father, have you seen him yet?" Austin noticed that Tony's voice was strangely cold when he mentioned her father, though he was obviously trying to hide it.

Austin's throat felt thick as she adjusted the phone in her hand, barely managing to reply with a dead-weight: "No".

"Really," the answer wasn't a question, but a statement, and then even Tony sighed into the phone. "You know, I still can't seem to figure out why your parents divorced in the first place. I understand the idea that marriage is a cage," Austin felt her lips crack into a smile as the snide remark, though her eyes were again starting to tear up. "but from what I hear, your mother talks to him nearly every day. Am I just naïve, or is that normal for an un-married, divorced, supposed to be I-can't-stand-you relationship?"

Despite herself, Austin let out a small laugh, though it sounded more like a cough and a choke than a laugh because of her closed throat, and the tears that were welling.

Truth be told, she didn't know why her parents were divorced, either, because Tony was right – they talked to each other nearly every day, they always knew what was going on in their ex-spouse's life, and though her mother would never admit it, Austin knew that she still cared for her dad.

Which was why she had sent Austin to go see him when his phone calls had begun to sound...strange, when he had begun to sound a little bit too nervous, too excited, and then, suddenly, almost like he was secretly terrified.

"You know, if you get sick of that guy you call 'dad', there's always a free bunk at my place," Austin managed to laugh for real this time as she wiped the just-shed tears from her eyes, feeling pitiful that she was crying.

She knew that, despite who the invitation was coming from, that Tony was serious.

Her parents had been divorced for ten years, suddenly deciding, as if overnight, that they were not suited for one another, and that they couldn't stand being married. When the divorce papers had gone through, Austin had been almost eleven, and her mother had been given custody over her. And then, four and a half months after the divorce had been finalized, her mother had remarried again.

This man, however, had not been a scientist. He had, instead, been an insanely rich man, who her mother had somehow managed to hook – probably from her stunning, insane, nearly super-model good looks (none of which she had passed onto Austin, who felt she was rather plain, just like her father). Despite being the slippery type, her mother's new husband had wanted a wife and a kid – even if only for publicity purposes.

The two had been married, and the man had survived maybe a year before he'd suddenly been shot, leaving his "poor" widow and adopted child behind – with enough riches to last them for the rest of their lives, and probably even a few lives after that.

Austin's mother had done the right thing by the business world once she'd gotten her hands on her late husband's money. She'd gone to high-end functions and demonstrations, and there she had met Tony Stark, self-certified (and self-centered) genius and playboy, and had decided to devote a good sum of her money into his company. The two had formed a business alliance at first, and then had become good, if not strange, friends, which had led to Tony becoming one of Austin's friends as well.

And Tony had changed over the years, just as Austin had – especially after he'd become the Iron Man, which had given his life a fast, quick, spinning U-turn. And though he was still a bit of a playboy, Austin knew that he truly cared, and that if she asked, he would do everything he could to help her, even if it meant putting up with her for weeks, or months, or years if he had to.

"Thanks for the invite, Mr. Hero, but I think I'll pass," Austin turned back to smiling and away from crying as she looked around the small little trailer again, glad that it was cleaner now. "This isn't exactly where I want to be right now, but I think my dad actually needs me this time," the words felt good rolling off of her tongue, and she tried to believe them.

After all, her dad loved her – she knew that – but their relationship had been so shaky as of late, she had begun to think that he'd never need her again, never want her around, never want anything more than to talk to her on the phone, and only then because he had to (or her mother would kill him).

But this time, it really did seem like he needed her there, to help him. And even if he didn't, she was worried. There was something strange going on...

Though she had no idea what, still.

"Fine, it's your self-induced funeral," Tony relented as the noise echoing in the background of his phone became louder, and he sighed in an almost put-out sort of way. "Well, Austin, you know I would love chat longer, but unfortunately, I have to punch in my time again. Don't be slacking on that book – when it comes out next week, I want to read it, and con everyone I know into buying one – which is a lot of people, so you should be quickly famous, as I said. And maybe next time, you could write about something better than aliens and space and time-warps...you know, something modest, maybe to do with the Iron Man..." he laughed at that, and Austin cracked another smile.

Obviously, Tony was headed somewhere as Iron Man, and was calling her from the "road". It must have been nice to lift off into the air and fly wherever you wanted, to travel almost instantly...

"I'll talk to you again soon, Tony, and I'll work on the book – though I can't promise any metal superheros in it," Austin relented, pulling the phone from her ear as Tony hung up, leaving her stranded, alone at her father's trailer.

She knew that Tony (and her mother) were excited about the book she was going to publish, but she hardly wanted to think about it. She'd wanted to be a writer all her life, and now that self-publishing was getting big, she'd decided to try that route to literary fame, not wanting to mooch off of her mother's money forever (even if her mother didn't mind, and pretty much insisted). And she'd had a plot in place, and characters, and even a title, but then...

She didn't know what, but something had happened. It had been after a conversation with her father, who was expressly against her becoming a fiction author, who had always wanted her to become a real, living, breathing scientist, like him. He'd all but yelled at her when he'd found out that she was "wasting her life and talent" on a silly thing like writing science-fiction, and since then, she hadn't been able to pen a single page.

Not that she had to have her father's approval – though she did want it. She was an adult now, though no one seemed to want to treat her like one, all of them still thinking of her as that poor, young child who had seen her parents split, her mother marry another man, and who had been thrust into a life of fortune, which, despite its many luxuries, was sometimes the ugliest of things. If she wanted to be a writer – which she did – then she was going to do it, but it would have been nice for her father to see it as a profession, and not just a silly, worthless way to make money.

Austin set her phone down on the tiny table in front of her as she switched her view from the window opposite her to the stack of books beside her, trying to hide some of her insecurities behind a tired mask – though she was actually tired, anyway. She found it almost funny how, though her father didn't approve of writing (unless one was writing a thesis, or a theorem, or some sort of term paper that was useful instead of useless, like fiction), he seemed to have a lot of books lying around, out in the open, as if he had recently used all of them. Finding herself curious, Austin reached forward, and grabbed one of the books, flipping it open.

What she saw almost made her laugh, though, again, it also took her back.

The book she had picked up was a children's book, designed as an introduction to ancient myths, the myths it contained all relating to Norse mythology. As Austin flipped through the book she felt a quirky smile turn up her lips, remembering how her father had, back when she was little, read to her from a book very similar to the one she now held in her hands. As the pages turned, she found herself remembering different gods and goddesses, even chuckling at the cartoonish sketches of them.

Austin had perhaps flipped through ten pages when she noticed that, about halfway through the book sat a sticky note, attached to the top of one of the pages. Curiosity gripping her again, Austin flipped to the sticky note's page, finding her smile quirking.

The sticky note was attached to the page telling about the mischief god Loki, who had, beyond all reason, always been her favorite. As a young child, she'd found it interesting that while all the other gods had sought fame and glory through battle or other means, Loki had spent his time tricking others, which had been almost easier in a way.

Austin stared at the page for a moment before she sat the book down, turning back to the stack for the next tome, glancing at the cover to see what it was. To her astonishment, the next book was also about Norse mythology, and when she flipped it open, finding another sticky note, the page(s, in that book) were also the ones pertaining to Loki.

Austin felt her eyebrows furrow as she closed the new book and leaned over towards the stack again, viewing their covers with confused blue eyes. Strangely, all of the books in the stack, which was probably at least ten books high, were on Norse mythology – and they all had sticky notes sticking out of their tops. Austin felt her insides shrink in slight panic as she reached for another book, opened it, and found the same name staring back at her from the pages.

Loki.

Now feeling as sense of dread, as well as a sense of alarm, Austin began hurriedly flipping through all the books, finding that they all had sticky notes in the same place, that they all were marked where they read about Loki. And by the time Austin had flipped through the last book, confirming her suspicions, her chest began to feel heavy, her heartbeat pulsing in her ears.

If she had been in someone else's trailer, and not her dad's, she may not have found this development strange – after all, wasn't mythology a popular subject, and everyone had their favorite story or fictional deity. But the fact was, she was in her father's trailer, and this behavior wasn't like him at all – he should have had a stack of scientific material on his couch, books pertaining to Einstein's theories or quantum physics, not books on mythology, all marked in the same place.

And what was he doing studying Loki, anyway (if you wanted to call it studying, since it looked to Austin more like obsession than anything)? The stories contained in the books were just that – stories, nothing else. They weren't real, and her father was a man who was based on facts, so...it didn't make sense.

It just didn't make sense.

Austin found she felt almost ill as she stood from the couch, picked up the books, and headed towards the bedroom to stuff them away. When she'd arrived in New Mexico, she had thought that her journey had been in vain, her father not even remembering to come and meet her at his "house" – but the more that she saw, the more she was beginning to think her mother was right, that there was something strange going on.

Her father was hiding something, was obsessed with something, was devoting to it all his time, and though she doubted he would simply come out and say what it was that had changed, Austin made a pact with herself to find out the truth – even if she had to dig for it.

Austin was asleep when Erik finally did get home, even though it wasn't quite dark yet, lying on her side on the bed located in the bedroom he had never even used. And though he wanted to talk to her, to see her smile at least, he decided to leave her alone, knowing that she must have had a long flight, and that she probably was suffering from jet-lag.

Besides... He reasoned, sitting down on the trailer's small, little couch. You still have work to do.

He had to stay up, was still anxiously waiting a call from Jane, who he was sure that Fury had seen already – unless the head of S.H.I.E.L.D. had sent an agent instead, which he kind of doubted, considering the gravity of the situation. Erik knew that when Jane accepted the assignment that Erik had already been tasked with, she would want to talk – she might even come over, babbling and overflowing with new information.

And Erik was anxious to see what she had to say, to see if Fury would show the Cube to her in person, as he'd done to Erik earlier that day. He couldn't get the image of the glowing, strange square out of his mind, the way he had felt almost pulled towards it.

But then again, he couldn't get the interested, intense look that had been in Loki's strange eyes when Austin's voicemail message had been played in the car out of his head, either – and out of the two, Erik had a feeling that that look was even more dangerous than the Cube.

Erik shook his head and rubbed his temples as he sat back on the couch, and then leaned forward, hand reaching for one of his books, for the Norse mythology research he had been doing. It seemed like a most of the tales in the books that he'd achingly searched for weren't true, but they were the only sources he had that could even possibly begin to tell him more about Loki, and so he kept researching through them, searching for clues.

Erik nearly jumped when his hand met thin air, looking up to find his trailer clean.

Oh. Clean. He hadn't even noticed. He'd walked in the door and searched for Austin, but he'd bypassed all her work, all the things that she had put away, or thrown away, or rearranged. Erik found himself smiling slightly as he noted how she'd managed to clear his trailer of all its mess, but his smile was swallowed whole a moment later as he looked around, and found no trace of his books.

Erik felt his heart sink, landing in the bottom of his chest, as his eyes roamed towards the doorway to the bedroom, which was now closed. Since his books were nowhere to be found, there was only one place they could be, only one space in which his daughter, Austin, could have put them.

Erik ground his teeth as he sat back down on the couch, hating himself and the mess that he had placed himself – and Austin – in. And though he wasn't knowing for praying, he muttered a prayer then, hoping and pleading that Austin hadn't seen what he was researching, and that, in the short time that he would keep her there, she didn't begin to suspect the things that he was hiding from her and the rest of the world.

The wind whipping through the small New Mexico town was cold that night, despite the fact that it was near the would-be hot desert, as the shadowy figure named Loki stood outside of Erik's trailer, watching as the inside lights remained on near the kitchen, signaling that the scientist would be awake for another long night.

The events from that day still circled in his mind, moving rapidly as he analyzed them. And Loki had to admit that, though they had been unexpected, fate had brought about a good turn of events.

Well, a good turn of events for him, at least.

"Very interesting, indeed," Loki murmured to no one as he took one last look at the scientist's trailer, before a small smile curled on his thin lips, and he suddenly vanished into the night.

Hello, again, everyone, and thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of my new story. I didn't intend for it to be so freakishly long, but somehow...it ended up happening. This chapter was really more of a background chapter, so I can't guarantee the others chapters will be this long (which, if they are, my fingers might just fall off).

Anyway, this story came to me the moment I left the movie theater after seeing Thor (which I loved, and which gave me a slight obsession with Loki), but I didn't have the courage to pen it until now. The fiction, as I said earlier, takes place post-Thor and pre-Avengers. Since I don't know exactly what they're doing in the Avengers, I'm going to try and shy away from that as much as I can. I've gotten the general gist from the preview after Captain America that Loki seems to go a little bit insane (which makes me sad...), but like I said, I'm not sure what they're doing, so I'm going to try and stay away from it. The story itself is more of a redemption fiction than a romance...though the latter will be included, don't worry. If you're new to my fictions, I usually try to keep things more on the realistic side, and I love dealing with heavy emotions.

I haven't really read any Norse mythology, but for this story, I'm doing some research. If I got anything wrong at all, please let me know so I can fix it, or if you have tips, I'd greatly appreciate it. ;)

In case anyone was wondering what the name of the song containing Austin's name is, it's called "P.S. this is Austin" and it's by Blake Shelton.

Anyway, please review and let me know what you think! Reviews are greatly appreciated as I concoct the plot for the next chapter of this fiction.

~Cross