The Call [Loki x Siren Fanfiction]

Chapter 8

I somehow managed to survive my first week aboard what I learned is called a ‘Helicarrier.’ It is a mobile base for something called S.H.I.E.L.D, and is now also my home. After my meeting, Nat took me to a small room, a little bit smaller than my apartment, but it has three rooms and so far everything has fit, so it’s nice. I wake up at 0700, because that is when the ship-wide alarm goes off for every agent who somehow slept through the one in their room. I may have lost mine. I take a shower and get dressed before either returning to my couch or going to the mess hall for breakfast. 

I spend most of my day by myself or in my personal ‘training’ room. Usually it is less for training and more for observation, but I still enjoy having the space to exercise my powers. After the first day when I made anyone in the observation room go into a stupor because they had not listened to me and left the speakers on, Fury made the executive decision to entirely soundproof the room and prevent any audio recordings from being listened to by anyone other than myself. He chose not to get rid of them entirely because he felt it would ‘weed out’ those who would not recognize his rules. 

I got Tony to go to the coast for me and collect a room’s worth of ocean water, and it has been heavenly. I get to spend my day with my ocean water and various coral that I helped move. Normally, it would be very harmful to coral to be moved, but I did it myself so it was not too bad. Loki comes frequently to watch me as I play in the water in my man-made beach. Most days he actually comes in and asks before he camps out in the observation room, others I just glance over and notice him there. He still seems very confused about being enchanted. I get the feeling he’s been on both sides of that kind of thing before, partially because he seems so confused about how it feels, and sometimes because he almost has a panic attack when I laugh or talk a lot and he feels it trying to infiltrate his mind. 

The first few days, I had to figure out the effects of my voice on humans and asgardians and everything in between. And I had to do it quick. So far, Fury is the only one who seems to have any control over it. With Bruce, who I have learned is also the Hulk, the effects seem to be more of the peaceful variety. Mostly things like giving him the urge to be in contact with water in any form, and occasionally he will lose consciousness. Now, he won’t be completely unconscious, but he is not conscious of his body or anything outside of it. 

I almost killed a couple of agents when I was humming a song on my way to lunch. I had seen a human movie the night before, and I could not get that song to leave my thoughts. And after what I almost did… I don’t think those agents can either. I apologized many many times, and one of them, I believe her name is Sharon, was very forgiving and told me that it wasn’t a problem as long as I didn’t do it again. I was so embarrassed. I could kill someone if I sing a song. I leave people dazed after a conversation. I could convince someone to jump off the ship into the ocean if I wanted to. 

It gets lonely. It always has been. For almost two centuries I haven’t consistently had contact with anyone other than whoever I happened to be cleaning for at the time. Now I have all these people… and I have begun to care about them. I can’t care for people, and I shouldn’t be here much longer. I need to go home. To go back to the ocean and her care. I have left her vulnerable long enough. 

Should I go at the end of the week? No. That would be too long. Tomorrow? A lot can happen in one night. No, I go now. 

I stand up from the floor next to my bed and go to leave, before I reconsider. Do I need to pack? Pack what? What is there that I would need? Nothing. So that’s what I grab as I stride out of the room. Once in the hallway, I find my way to the piloting room where Fury usually is. I am creeping around the edges of the room, trying to find him when a male voice startles me. I whirl around, pulling my knife from my pocket. I learned quickly enough that human men do not keep their hands to theirself. Once I have a knife at his throat, I stop to process who spoke to me.