The Shapeshifter | Loki Fanfic

Part 2

The smell. The perfect way to be woken up—by the smell of fresh pizza. Her mouth practically watered as she opened her eyes to see a stack of a dozen pizza boxes on the table.

Steve, also known as Captain America, looked down to her when she slowly walked over to the table, "Do you want some?" When she nodded, he took out a slice—that cheese pull—and set it on the floor on a napkin.

As Cassie followed him, she noticed that, besides the Avengers she had seen before, there was a man with red skin with no food. An alien possibly?

Absolutely devouring the delicacy she hadn't seen in far too long, she listened in on the conversation going on around her.

"Fury is sending us back to the abandoned building," the red haired lady said.

"Isn't he the one that said we're only for emergencies?" Steve asked. "It's odd that he keeps sending us to this place."

"Our lives would be so boring if we had no Fury sending us on useless missions, though, wouldn't it?" Tony laughed.

"I think we would survive," Bruce muttered.

Looking up, she accidentally made eye contact with Tony who asked the group, "What should we do with her?"

"Leave her here," the red-skinned possible alien suggested. "She can't escape. How much damage could she do here?"

"She could destroy my billion dollar building," Tony muttered with an eye-roll. "But fine."

"Is he sending us all?" A different red-haired lady sitting next to the red-skinned man asked.

"No, Wanda, he's just letting you two love birds take up space in my building for no reason." His voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Of course you and Vision have to go. Why? Who the hell knows anymore." Tony gestured to Loki—who she hadn't noticed before—still brooding in a corner. "And Fury wants him there too."

Everyone started to argue and protest immediately.

"We can't trust him!" Bruce said at a level that was almost yelling.

"He'll kill us all!" Steve added.

"All of you shut up!" Tony pounded his fist on the table. "I am no more happy than you are about this but Fury specifically asked for him and his magic-y shtick."

There were more grumbles but no one vocally protested.

Bored of the conversation, Cassie went to sit on the couch overlooking the city as they discussed specifics of their plan.

~~•~~

"My bar is off-limits," Tony called out and boarded the plane, the rest trailing after him.

The moment they left, she was itching to transform out of her wolf form. She had been stuck as this dog for far too long. But she was sure she was being watched and didn't need to let them know what she could do.

Until she could find out just what kind of security measures she had trained on her, her charade must continue.

She needed to escape. If not from her skin, then the room.

It was too small.

Getting smaller.

Suffocating her.

She needed to get out. Out.

The only opening was the balcony that led to the helicopter's area. With a closed door that likely needed specialized access. Good thing she didn't care about breaking her way through the glass, which is exactly what she did, shattering glass all over the floor.

She was sure her fur was littered with glass, staining her white fur red, but she couldn't care less when the wind washed through her, taking the panic along with it.

The pressure was still there, deep down, but she wasn't about to do something she'd regret again anymore.

Finally—finally—the fatigue she had waited for appeared. The exhaustion that let her energy return, instead of making her sleep through the drainage.

Her eyes slowly closed and, for once, she didn't fight it. She let sleep take her, regardless of the fact that she was in a foreign place on a balcony hundreds of feet above the ground.

~~•~~

"Cassie! Cassie!" She was jolted out of the most pleasant sleep to Tony shaking her.

Jeez, couldn't anyone take a nap anymore? She stood up, shaking her fur out. And then remembered why they were so panicked when glass shards flew off.

"Oh thank god." It seemed everyone had come back from the mission. "Fury would have killed me."

Oh, god. The blood had bled through her fur, making it look like she was more injured than she actually was. It was mostly dry but, at first glance, it could have looked like she was dead.

"My door!" Looked like Tony's feelings of relief for her being alive were long gone. "She shattered my door!"

Someone snorted—actually snorted—and Tony whipped his head around to the source. "Think this is funny?"

"Tony..." Steve stepped in, making his role as the peacemaker pretty clear.

"No!" Tony stomped his foot like a toddler having a tantrum. "Loki doesn't get to just—"

"Tony." At the sound of an unfamiliar lady, he paused. "Deep breath."

A new ginger-haired woman gently rested her hands on Tony's shoulder and his shoulders relaxed. She whispered to him and led him away quietly.

"Looks like you have a dog to bathe," Loki sneered while Steve picked out shards of glass out of her fur.

He turned to walk back into the building but the red-haired lady that seemed attached to Bruce held her hand out to stop him. "For that comment, you get to bathe her."

He paused and then laughed. "You're kidding." She wasn't kidding. "I am a prince. I will not stoop to wash that runt."

Harsh. While she had heard worse, hearing it from a fellow captive almost hurt more.

"You and I both know who here is keeping Bruce calm. Take that out of the equation and, well, you get a big green monster that despises you."

His pale skin whitened even more, if possible. She didn't bother to give a smile, instead walking away with Bruce.

"Rodgers," he said as Steve stood up to go inside.

Steve just shrugged but she could have sworn there was a smirk there. "Natasha doesn't kid."

Natasha—that was the lady's name.

This was ridiculous. She didn't need anyone to clean her off. She was perfectly capable of washing herself. She was almost tempted to let him do it just because he seemed to hate the idea of it, but she didn't need someone who disliked her to wash her down like an animal—even if she looked like one.

Normally, she wouldn't have bothered cleaning off but the glass was surprisingly itchy and she did not need an infection. Pesky ailments that used to be beneath her but she didn't have the energy to fight anymore.

Standing up and accidentally shaking glass on his feet, she left in search of a place to clean herself without a pretentious so-called-prince grumbling over her shoulder.

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I am really going to try to do a slow love but, I'll be honest, I'm not great at it. Awful really.

Anyway enjoy another chapter as I make up Cassie's backstory along the way