Blind

Freyja hurtled down the staircase of the building, skipping two or three steps with every stride. At the landing of the fourth floor, she leaned against the wall and inhaled deeply. Her blue eyes closed, hands sweeping the blonde locks of hair from her face. Once she’d caught her breath, she continued making her way down to the ground floor.

She’d assumed that Kennedy was involved with something relatively bad. Without anything to really go on, it had been easy to figure that out. She just hadn’t expected Loki. She couldn’t believe that Kennedy was involved with Loki.

And Kennedy was just going along with Loki. She wasn’t trying to resist him, she didn’t look uncomfortable with him around. She was content with herself. Kennedy was okay with working with Loki and that terrified Freyja.

She tried to rationalize Kennedy’s partnership with Loki as she exited the stairwell. Kennedy had to not know Loki’s entire plan. That was the only plausible reason. Kennedy didn’t know what he was really up to.

Of course, Freyja didn’t know what Loki was up to. The story she’d gotten from Thor was what he knew. But Thor had been banished to Earth while Loki was still in Asgard. He only knew what others could tell him. From what Thor had told her, Freyja knew that Loki wasn’t here for good reason.

And Thor himself didn’t know exactly what Loki was up to either. He just knew that Loki was up to something. And while everyone in Asgard thought Loki dead, Thor didn’t. Freyja trusted Thor’s gut feelings more than anyone’s when it came down to Loki.

She unlocked her phone as she crossed the lobby, blue eyes scanning the names listed into her contacts until she reached the C’s. Her thumb hovered over the number, hesitating at calling.

After Thor had left and shortly before she left her apartment, she had had a visitor at Freyja’s apartment. With how much time she’d spent here, Freyja recognized a government goon when she saw one. And having one knocking at her door wasn’t something that she was entirely thrilled with.

“Freyja Cross?”

“Who’s asking?”

Her blue eyes narrowed as she took in the balding man in her doorway. He was wearing a black suit, a nice suit at that, and looked pleasant enough. Everything about him just reeked of government agent. And Freyja didn’t like government agents.

“I’m Agent Coulson of S.H.I.E.L.D. You probably haven’t heard of us. I’m here because of a visitor you had earlier,” the agent said, looking at her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her tone became flinty, blue eyes hardening into a glare.

She moved to shut the door only to have the agent stop her. Freyja glared at him but didn't try to shove the door shut. It would have been easy for her to slam the door on him but she didn’t want that attention.

“I’m afraid that attempting to avoid me is not an option, Miss Cross. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t of importance.”

Gritting her teeth, Freyja begrudgingly opened the door and let him inside. He stepped inside neatly, as if nothing had happened. She closed the door, turning to regard him with cold blue eyes. She hated government agents.

“I want to see a badge,” Freyja said as she looked at him.

Coulson pulled a wallet of his jacket and passed it to her. She flipped it open so that she could examine the badge there. It looked official enough. Her eyes glanced down at the I.D., taking in the information there. Phil Coulson, 44. He looked extremely dull, his address even sounded dull.

“Miss Cross, I’m here because you had a visitor here earlier today,” Coulson said, watching her.

“And I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” she shot back.

“It is when your visitor is Thor of Asgard,” Coulson replied, ignoring her tone. “That is who you had here earlier, is it not?”

Freyja looked up at him, her eyes narrowing. She passed the wallet back, blue eyes never leaving the agent. The hairs on her arms were standing up and every muscle in her body was tensed.

“Miss Cross, can you explain to me how you know Thor?”

“It’s a long story that I’m not really interested in exchanging. I want to know why you’re here and what you want with Thor, Agent Coulson.”

Coulson looked at her for several seconds, as if judging whether or not to push her. Her arms folded across her chest, jaw locking and chin lifting in a dare. Freyja didn’t play chicken and she wasn’t going to be bullied.

“I’m going to leave my number with you, Miss Cross, and if anything strange happens, I would like for you to call.”

Freyja was fairly certain this qualified as strange. Bringing her phone to her ear as it dialed Coulson’s number, she continued watched Kennedy’s building across the street. There was no sign of Loki, Kennedy or the other man in her studio.

“Miss Cross, I had a feeling that you would be calling soon.”

“Cut the pleasantries, Agent,” Freyja replied, still watching the building. “I’m fairly sure this qualifies as strange.”

“I’m listening, Miss Cross.”

“Does the name Loki mean anything to you?”

“Miss Cross, where are you?”

Across the street, the building doors opened and out came the man from Kennedy’s studio. Kennedy came next, carrying a decent-sized duffle bag across her body. Behind her came Loki, no longer dressed in his leathers. Freyja’s throat worked as she stared there, watching them.

“I’m in New York but I’m leaving soon,” Freyja said, exiting the store.

Kennedy was climbing into a van, her hand cradling her ribcage as she did so. She didn’t even notice Freyja. For a moment, Freyja didn’t think that Loki had noticed her either. But then his head lifted and their gazes met across the street. A thin smile split his lips before he lowered himself into the black van.

“Miss Cross? Miss Cross!”

Freyja blinked, her attention returning to the conversation she’d been having. “Sorry, I…I have to go.”

She hung up before darting across the street. Once back inside the building, she took the stairwell back up. Her legs stretched, taking the steps two at a time in her hurry. For a moment she hesitated outside Kennedy’s door before getting her key out and opening the doors.

Kennedy’s Rottweiler growled at her as she came in before letting it die off. At least he wasn’t attacking her. She looked around for a moment before crossing to the couch. Lowering herself to her knees, she felt under the couch for a moment before pulling the digital recorder out from under the couch.

While looking around Kennedy’s studio for food, Freyja had come across the digital recorder in a drawer. For whatever reason, her gut had told her to leave it recording when she left to go shopping earlier. If luck was on her side, maybe someone would have said where they were going.

She hooked the recorder up to Kennedy’s laptop and turned the volume all the way up. Hitting play, she crossed the studio to where her bags were and reached inside. After a few minutes of digging, she carried the items she’d pulled out into the bathroom and began undressing.

Her skin crawled as Loki’s voice came in. The fact that Kennedy was conversing with him so easily bothered her. She was being herself, snappy, snarky, and borderline rude at times. Kennedy only did that when she was comfortable with the people she was talking to.

The word Germany caught her attention. She left the bathroom and backed the audio up several seconds before listening again. What did Loki need iridium for? And how badly did he need it that he was willing to go to Germany for it?

Frowning, Freyja continued to listen as she went back to dressing and reapplying her make-up. She was sitting on the couch and pulling her boots on when she finally got a city. Stuttgart, Germany. That was mentioned after Loki had left.

“Looks like I’m going to Germany,” she sighed.

Freyja closed the computer and turned off the recorder before tossing it into her bag. As she turned to pick up the rest of her things, her blue eyes landed on a picture that was sitting on Kennedy’s nightstand. It was a picture of them from their graduation of high school.

Crossing the room, she picked up the metal frame. She remembered that day. That was only a week before Kennedy had moved to the opposite end of the country. It was also one of the last times that they were all together as a family.

“How the hell did this happen?” Freyja sighed.

Freyja rubbed her temples as she stared at the picture. Easily, she could remember passing Kennedy’s room that afternoon. The door had been open for once and she’d glanced in. Kennedy had been applying a mixture of several concealers to her face in an attempt to hide the massive bruise covering the right side of her face. It had worked in the end.

“Kennedy, what have you gotten yourself into? What did I let you get into?”

Without a doubt she knew that Kennedy would never trust her again. Freyja was well aware of that. She just hoped that she could convince Kennedy to get the hell away from Loki. If she could get Kennedy to realize what was going on, then she was happy. But that was already shaping to be a monumental task.

Her phone began ringing, causing her to jump. She dropped the picture frame, the glass remaining intact. Freyja didn’t bother to scoop it up as she was busy picking up her phone. It was Coulson.

Freyja rejected the call before putting her phone away. She didn’t want to deal with Coulson. He couldn’t, or wouldn’t, get her to Stuttgart. There were people that owed her favors. And one of them could get her to Stuttgart. She’d make the call soon.

“Heimdall? I know you can see everything. You always see everything,” Freyja said, her blue eyes closing. “Loki’s going to be in Stuttgart, Germany soon. I need you to tell Thor. He’s the only person who can control Loki, or at least I hope so. Things have changed apparently…”

Rubbing her face, Freyja opened her eyes. She felt absolutely idiotic when she was talking to Heimdall sometimes. She couldn’t see him, couldn’t know if he was listening. And even thought Heimdall heard and saw everything, it was a little hard to believe that he could hear and see everything here on Midgard even.

It was a little like the times when the parents she and Kennedy shared would take them to church. They never went on a regular basis, only for Easter and Christmas anyways. And she never got the point of praying. There was never any proof that anyone was listening. It was like talking to yourself.

But she did understand why people believed in it. It was easier to dump all your thoughts, all your problems on someone who was all powerful. He would take care of problems, help you when necessary and so on. They had faith that someone was listening. Freyja just had to have faith that Heimdall was always listening.

“Please, Heimdall,” she murmured before getting up.

Freyja dialed a number and brought the phone to her ear as she picked up her duffle bag. She made sure to lock the door as she left, still waiting for the line on the other end to open. Once it did, she was on her way down the stairwell once more.