A/N: This is the very last part to this story. I hope I did not disappoint too badly!

"Steve, is that you? Are you alright?" Loki did not care about what Morita and Phillips thought when he took over the radio control. He had to know then and there if Steve was well.

"Peggy! Schmidt's dead." Not what he wanted to hear, but it was still a relief to hear Steve come through the radio loud and clear.

"What about the plane?"

"That's a little bit tough to explain..." Loki did not like that answer. The sense of dread he'd been nursing before Steve radioed in returned.

"Give me your coordinates, I'll find you a safe landing site," his voice broke slightly, which hadn't happened in centuries. But at that moment, he didn't care if the mortals noted it. Time was short and he had to focus.

"There's not going to be a safe landing, but I can try to force it down."

"I'll get Howard on the line, he'll know what to do." Loki didn't intend to do any such thing. While it would be a strain on his recovering magic, it was not beyond his means then to aide Steve in landing safely.

"There's not enough time. This thing's moving too fast and it's heading to New York." No, you fool! Loki wanted to scream. I can help! Believe me, you will land safely!

"I gotta put her in the water."

"Please, don't do this. We have time. We can work it out." He was already gathering his magic as he spoke. It was fortunate that Phillips and Morita had vacated the room. He could do this, he could—

"Right now I'm in the middle of nowhere. If I wait any longer, a lot of people are gonna die. Peggy, this is my choice." The magic at his fingertips fizzled out. He did not want to be saved.

/

Loki laughs. He laughs as the Captain slams him against a still-standing wall. He continues laughing when the mortal's strong fingers wrap around his neck. There are bright spots in his vision and that makes the whole situation all more the funnier. All the more sickening.

He laughs until tears start streaming down his face and that is as close as Loki can get to truly crying.

/

He could force his hand. He could still save Steve, but if Loki did, then what would happen? Steve was no fool. He would realise that Loki was not Peggy Carter, or at least not what he seemed to be. Then what? Would Steve still admire him? Would he still...?

"Peggy?" Loki closed his eyes, willing the tears to go away.

"I'm here."

"I'm gonna need a rain check on that dance." He opened his eyes, but nothing seemed to be in focus.

"Alright. A week, next Saturday at the Stork Club." A tear slid down his cheek as he spoke, knowing that he was only humouring Steve in his last moments.

/

The Captain's aim is not to break his neck, but to render him unconscious. As those fingers start to tighten around his throat, Loki's laughter is reduced to quiet chuckles as he blinks away tears from his hazel eyes.

/

"You know, I still don't know how to dance."

"I'll show you how. Just be there." Please, please change your mind, Steve, was what Loki truly wanted to say. Please, trust me and let me help you. Don't leave me!

"You'll have the band play somethin' slow. I'd hate to step on your—" Loki's heart tightened.

"Steve? Steve...?"

/

"Steve?" His voice is hoarse, but it is not the voice he expects.

He feels the Captain's grip slacken, his eyes widen in alarm. Loki focuses and sees himself reflected in those blue, blue eyes and understands.

His clothing feels heavy, almost unbearably so. The sleeves are too long and hide his small hands. His trousers are baggy. It feels odd to be so much smaller than the Captain again, but he does not dwell on it—he cannot when he notices the shock in the mortal slowly turn into anger and disgust.

Loki's heart shatters.

He feels cold. He can feel himself growing again, his fingers slipping snugly back into his gauntlets, his feet touching the ground once more.

The Captain flinches and withdraws his hand in alarm. His glove was already frosted over.

"Do you believe me now?" Loki tries to smile again, but it is crude, as if carved out of ice by inexpert hands.

His spear returns to his side and hums loudly as he slams the end of it against the asphalt, sending a ripple of power across the ruined streets. The Captain has no time to run, no shield to protect him.

In the distance, a clock chimes eight as the Captain crashes and skids across the street.

All is still and Loki walks silently over to where the man has fallen. The Captain does not stir.

He kneels next to the unconscious man and bends forward, his blue nose almost touching the other's mask. Red eyes flutter close as he inhales the scent of blood, but not of death.

Loki closes the distance, placing his icy, scarred lips over the Captain's and for that moment he almost forgets that he is a monster.

A second later, he withdraws and Steve Rogers's lips are black. At that moment, Loki remembers he is a monster and that all he ever had with the unconscious man before was a lie. A pretty little lie in the form of a pretty little woman.

Loki rises stiffly and turns away, taking the long route through the ruins of Manhattan as rain begins to fall.