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Chapter Text

Life, thought Loki, considering Midgardian slang, sucked.

He trudged behind Thor, shuffling his feet until he realized that he probably looked like a disobedient child following his parent for a punishment. Immediately, Loki straightened up, shoulders back as he walked in a loose, easy stride.

Everything had seemed to go well, Loki recollected bitterly. Even when the spider had tricked him into revealing his plan, everything had turned out all right. If it hadn't been for the Hulk and the 'nuke'….

He had underestimated the humans…what did they call themselves? Revengers? Avengers? Ah, that was it.

But he wasn't going to underestimate them again.

"Loki!" called Thor in exasperation. Loki narrowed his eyes. Please, don't ask me anything….

"Can you go any faster?!"

Oh, no.

The All-Father, after Loki's humiliating defeat, had stripped Loki of all his magic fully, and then Odin had cast a spell on him so that every mortal he harmed, even pinched, Loki would feel exactly what the human felt. But he hadn't stopped there. Odin had then gone on to unarm him of his greatest weapon - his lies. Now, Loki could only speak the truth.

No, Loki willed himself to say. But that was not what came out. "Yes," replied Loki reluctantly, clenching his teeth. The moment he got out of his punishment, Loki was going to rip out Thor's head and shove it down his throat.

"Then please do hurry, brother," replied Thor. "We don't have all day."

"What kind of genius idea is this, Thor?" asked Loki, finally, ignoring his statement. "Supposedly sheltering me on the realm I just tried to conquer, and in the home of the people who just conquered me."

"We cannot leave you on Asgard with the guard so limited, since they are defending the city against the Chitauri," answered Thor, "And what place is better to house you than the home of those who conquered you?"

Loki was forced to reply Thor's last rhetorical question because of the All-Father's enchantment. "None," mumbled Loki sulkily. Thor looked guilty, and opened his mouth to apologize, but Loki cut him off.

"There is the Man of Iron's house," he said quickly, unwilling to suffer through an angst-ridden Thor apologizing profusely. "You had better have planned well for this, Thor."

"I have," said Thor unconvincingly, uneasy for the first time.

Loki smirked.

—————

"Sir, Mr. Odinson appears to be outside, with Mr. Laufeyson," said Jarvis' automated voice, jerking Tony's head up abruptly.

"Ah, Point Break's come to join the party!" said Tony, taking a huge bite of his pizza. "Jarvis, stack up some for Pop Tarts, will you?"

"Thor must be back," said Bruce looking up, dark eyes blinking behind his glasses. "Jarvis, who is Laufeyson? I don't remember him. Is he Asgardian?"

Jarvis almost sounded confused. "I beg your pardon, Dr. Banner, but I'm quite certain you have encountered Laufeyson, both in your present form and as the Hulk. Though not quite pleasantly, I regret to say."

"Not quite pleasantly?" echoed Bruce, an uneasy feeling tightening his stomach. Tony, being Tony, wasn't listening.

"Rudolph's scepter is powerful," Tony muttered, reaching over for his computer. "It's like it is its own thinking, living thing."

"Tony," interrupted Bruce, getting to his feet. "I think the owner of that scepter is coming here."

Tony tensed, looking up. "Laufeyson?" he said, frowning. "Jarvis, is the man with Thor, Loki?"

"Yes."

"Loki?!" yelped Tony, leaping from his seat. It may have been comical, but the direness of the situation kept Bruce from laughing. "What the hell is that bastard doing on Earth? I thought Thor said he was never coming back!"

"Don't ask me," said Bruce tiredly. Just when he thought things were settling down.

—

"Greetings, friends!" Thor's voice boomed. Somebody must have notified Clint and Natasha. Tony was glad.
He quickly glanced at Thor's eyes. They were a brilliant blue like always, but not the unnatural sheen that had covered Clint's eyes. So Thor was not mind-controlled.

Bleary-eyed, Rogers walked in quickly onto the scene, dressed for home but with his shield easily held against one arm. Jarvis must have alerted him, and mentally Tony gave him brownie points for that.

"Hello Thor," Bruce answered cautiously, shifting uneasily from foot to foot. "We're glad to see you, but why…" He never got to finish, because from behind Thor, in stepped…..Loki.

Tony cursed vehemently, wishing he had the sense to come in his suit. But Natasha got him covered, she had a gun out, pointing it at Loki. In the blink of an eye, Clint had an arrow notched in his bow, aimed directly into Loki's face.

Loki did not look afraid in the least, on the other hand, he seemed comfortable, judging by his posture. He had a faintly amused air about him, lifting a sardonic eyebrow in greeting. He did not look in the slightest like a supervillain. The bastard.

"Brother!" cried Thor in alarm, turning to him after a look at the attacking Avengers. "You were only to appear after I finished talking, we had an agreement!"

Tony stepped forward. "So did we, Thor," he interrupted. "You said you would take Loki back to Asgard to face Asgardian justice."

Thor exhaled slowly. "It is a long tale," he said finally. "To shorten a lengthy story, the Chitauri attacked Asgard. We know not why, it is a foolish move on their part. Our warriors are more than a match for them, but we cannot have many guards watching over Loki. The All-Father ordered him sent here."

Tony was infuriated. "What the hell are you saying?" he asked, stepping forward. He paid no attention to the fact he was speaking to someone probably a thousand years older than him, and a great deal taller too.

"Tony," said Bruce's warning voice, but Tony ignored it. "Are we the alien drop-off spot now? Disobedient son, oh, I'll banish him to Earth. Traitor to Asgard? Just send him off to that little planet over there, I've heard the weather is lovely there this time of year. And…"

"Tony!" interjected Bruce sharply. "Let Thor finish."

Tony was still pretty pissed. I mean, who wouldn't? You can't just bring a supervillain into anybody's house, uninvited. What about Pepper? Damn it, Loki would only get to her over his dead body.

"Thank you, son of Banner," said Thor gratefully. "As I was saying, the All-Father is not foolish. He placed an enchantment on Loki, so for every mortal he hurts, Loki himself will suffer the same effects. And when Loki speaks, he cannot speak a lie. Only truth."

Only truth, eh?

Bruce looked at him. "I know that look, Tony," he said, soft so the Asgardian visitors could not pick it up. "What's up?"

Tony grinned. "Maybe Loki being here might not be such a bad thing after all."

—————————

Loki was helpless.

He'd stood against some of the greatest evil in all the Nine Realms, yet he, Loki, was unarmed and helpless before mortals. He shouldn't be, he knew. Yet he was.

If he had his magic, even against all the Avengers, he would have had a decent chance. Even with a knife. But no, the only thing he had for a defender was his dupe of a brother-no, Thor was not his brother.

Loki quickly scanned the room. If he was fast enough, Loki could grab the dagger strapped to Thor's belt. He would throw it at Stark-he was not in his metal armor and virtually defenseless. The captain would pose a problem, and so would the hawk with his arrows. But he didn't need to fight them, he could jump out the window. It would undoubtedly be painful-no, his plan was foolish, Thor was there with his hammer. But what if he...

"That would work!" Thor's voice interjected crudely into his thoughts. "Loki, what do you think?"

Loki could have quickly changed his thoughts if he'd known what was coming, but he didn't know the All-Father's enchantment would force him to say exactly what he was thinking.

"Strategies on how to steal that dagger from your belt and use it to kill Stark, then jump out the window," Loki blurted out before he could stop himself. He clenched his fists at his side once he realized what he'd said, and scowled fiercely.

Thor hastily removed his dagger and held it firmly in his hand, away from Loki's grasp. Loki sighed, watching him glumly as his plan was literally ripped to shreds.

Stark was staring at him dumbly. "Holy crap, you really do have to tell the truth." He flashed a sudden grin at Loki. Idiot. "Loki, have you ever been in love?"

No, thought Loki frantically. No, I haven't. But the words that demanded to be let out were, Yes.
Very well, then. Loki cannot tell a lie, but he doesn't have to volunteer information. "Yes," he said begrudgingly. The foolish mortal beamed at him. "Can you tell me who?"

Stark had phrased the question incorrectly, and Loki mentally breathed a sigh of relief. "Yes."

Stark frowned, face scrunching up as he tried to frame a question that would get him an accurate answer. "Ok then, who was…"

"Tony!" said Banner sharply. Stark gave him a cheeky look. "Why? I've wondered that, actually. Wouldn't he be all…"

"Tony," interrupted the Captain tiredly. "We have more important things to do." Thor nodded, a slightly confused look on his face. "Yes," he said. "What say you?"

"Let me get this straight," said Barton, speaking for the first time as he glared daggers at Loki. "You want us to house Loki, the super villain who fucking took over my mind, for God's sake?" Thor blinked at him. "Yes," he answered, sounding faintly bewildered, "Did I not explain it clearly?"

Thor, you ham-fisted oaf, thought Loki, mentally slapping his palm to his forehead. There was a reason Loki had always been the diplomat, while Thor stuck with smashing everything in sight. Clint opened his mouth to speak again, but Romanoff interjected him.

"This could actually work," admitted Romanoff, shooting Barton an unreadable glance that Loki could not decipher. It seemed to do the trick, however, and Barton subsided, with a seething look still on his face.

"This may be the best place for Loki to be," Romanoff went on. "I mean, we already defeated him once, powers and all. We have Bruce, and the Hulk beat Loki before as well. He'll know better than to try anything, and there is also Jarvis, and we can have him monitoring Loki."

"But where are we going to house him?" asked Bruce practically. "Just wandering about? What about your house, Tony? Will it be safe?”

"Billionaire, baby."

"We can restrict him to a couple of floors," answered Romanoff. "And SHIELD will have to be notified, of course."

"To hell with SHIELD," countered Stark. "They're going to have security cameras all over, with the agents running all over the place, if Fury will even let us keep him. But I don't trust their cells, and I won't allow it. My house, my rules."

"You want the two of us to keep this from SHIELD?"

Loki's mind wandered off at this point, thought a part of his mind carefully monitored the conversation. The Avengers seemed to be leaning towards the option of having him there, but Loki could not figure out if that was a bad thing or a good thing.

True, they were the ones who had conquered him, much as he liked to avoid the topic. But then, this tower was not warded against magic like the cells in Asgard had been. Stark seemed intent on torturing him by asking personal questions, but Loki could avoid him.

But how was he going to get out of this ridiculously embarrassing situation? Whatever.

He was Loki.

He'd think of something.

Chapter Text

They had Natasha Romanoff show him to his room. Or rather, his floor.

Loki walked next to her, not attempting to walk ahead of her, but not bothering to match her pace. "So," Romanoff said, voice devoid of emotion as always. "You've heard the rules. You get this one floor, and Jarvis will be monitoring you. You so as much step out of your little bubble, we find you and throw you in a cell."

Loki did not say anything in reply, but his dark green eyes slid over his lodgings as he idly wondered who Jarvis was. His little hallway was small and not as lavishly furnished as the rest of Stark's household, but then, he wasn't really what one would consider the honored guest.

There was a kitchen, complete with a large refrigerator, oven, microwave and stove. Loki sincerely hoped that Stark had the decency to stock up some food for him. His bedroom, after a quick glance, proved to be simple and lightly furnished. But Loki could live with it, he had lived in worse conditions. Much worse. Frankly, he was surprised they hadn't thrown him into a cell.

The fact that the All-Father's punishment was to have Loki locked up for the rest of his life seemed to soften the Avengers' hearts, for whatever reason. Especially after Thor informed them that Loki may very well stay there for a thousand years. Loki didn't understand their sudden sympathies, in fact, Loki had a 40% chance of being executed. Most traitors to Asgard were executed; the fact that Loki had once been a prince may have given him grace.

But of course, he'd never really been a prince. He had been nothing more than the All-Father's tool, something that could unite the Frost Giants with Asgard. Of course, he had in that failed that, too.

No, Loki.

It had always been that. Loki had never been able to live up to Odin's expectations, no matter how hard he tried. His fighting skills were developed after long, hard hours of valiantly training in an attempt to make Odin proud, but that had failed. Loki had wondered, even sobbed, over why Odin had never seemed to love him as much as Thor. Now he knew.

He turned sharply, accidentally jostling his elbow into Romanoff's ribs. It was sudden, and the Widow was unable to hide her sudden wince. Loki may as well be polite and get into the mortals' good graces so they can underestimate him.

He opened his mouth to form the words, I'm sorry, but they wouldn't come out. A lie, Loki realized. Loki truly wasn't sorry at all, in fact, the only regret he had was that it hadn't been a knife that had poked her ribs.

Romanoff seemed to understand what he was about to say, and she smirked lightly. Loki clamped down on the rage that flared up, at how he was being made fun of by mortals. He racked his brain, thinking of all the things that Clint Barton had told him about her when Barton was mind-controlled by Loki's scepter.

He looked her straight in the eye, and Loki knew the same words were echoing in their minds.

I've got red in my ledger. I'd like to wipe it out.

But can you wipe out so much red?

The Black Widow had been clever, and Loki gave credit where credit was due. It was true, she had managed to squeeze out his plans of using Banner. But his words had not completely unaffected her, either. The widow was a good liar, but nowhere as good as Loki, who had a thousand years of experience behind him.

It was her eyes that gave her away. Churning sea-green depths, betraying her as they revealed a myriad of confused, tangled, guilty emotions. He knew what went on in her head, a film of nameless people she had heartlessly murdered. He knew.

Because Loki had went through that, too.

It had been a phase. When he was younger, Loki had felt so guilty after every single killing, each face never leaving him as he tossed and turned at night. When he had looked into the mirror, the guilty, haunted jade eyes had perfectly mirrored Romanoff's. Until he learned to ignore it, to push it aside.

Until Thanos had taught him.

—————

Your ledger is dripping. It's gushing red. And you think saving a man no virtuous than yourself will change anything? This is the basest sentimentality. This is a child at prayer. Pathetic! You lie and kill in the service of liars and pretend to be separate, to have your own code. Something that makes up for the horrors.

But they are a part of you.

And they will never go away.

Natasha stiffened, spine erect as she tensed. Why, oh why did Loki's words affect her so much? She was stronger than this. She had put on a show; even Loki seemed to think she didn't care. Yet back on the Helicarrier, he'd seem to know which words would wound her the most, for the words he'd spoken were nearly the same words whispered in her nightmares.

Cold, cruel words that dug in deep, stinging and aching as old hurts reopened. Having him in the same house would be torture, his burning words echoing in her mind every time she looked into those mocking green eyes that seemed to search her soul.

No one touches Barton until I make him kill you, slowly, intimately, in every way he knows you fear. Then he'll wake just long enough to see his good work. And when he screams, I'll split his skull.

This is my bargain, you mewling quim.

"Tasha, you okay?"

Natasha relaxed her stiff posture, feeling her pulse throb erratically as she tried to calm herself. Breath, Natasha.
"Yes," she answered, forcing a smile. "Just a light headache, that's all."

That seemed to satisfy Tony, who leaned back in his chair again. Thor looked too distracted to pay much attention to her, and the same went for Bruce and Steve. But Clint gave her a knowing look, that clearly read, No, you're not.

When Natasha turned her head, her phone vibrated. Natasha directly avoided his gaze, but felt her lips twitch upwards involuntarily. Clint had always been persistent. She did not bother to read the text, but arched an eyebrow in the archer's direction.

"Are you two finished, now?" asked Tony's sharp, impatient voice. "Save your romantic moments for a date."
Is this love, Agent Romanoff? Loki had asked, a smirk on his features. Love is for children, came the cool, calculated reply. I owe him a debt.

That had been a partial lie. Natasha did owe Clint a debt for sparing her life on that mission, and for getting her straight. And she was not in love with Clint, despite Tony's constant teasing. Clint had told her about his wife Laura and his kids, knowledge known only to a scarce few. Clint and Natasha were friends, very good friends, it was true, but not soulmates.

But the part about love being for children had been a lie. Natasha longed to find the right person, the perfect someone who understood, who cared about her, somebody she just clicked with. Clint was not that person, their faults were the same, both contained the same stubborn streak. It would never work, because Clint did not complete her.

She longed to be loved, to be cared about. To be in a family.

Maybe the Avengers could be that family.

Maybe.

——————
"Jarvis, update me on Reindeer Games."

"He is currently in the bathroom, sir."

Tony made a face. "Please don't tell me he's in the shower," he said. "I honestly have no desire to see the god of lies in all his naked glory." Bruce snorted.

"He is shaving, sir. And appears to be cutting his hair. I'll update you if anything new comes up."

Tony waved it off. "He needs the haircut," he said dismissively. "Thanks, old buddy."

Jarvis did not reply, and Tony did not expect him to. He leaned back in his chair, rolling it around as he opened his mouth to speak. But he was cut off abruptly by Jarvis speaking.

"Sir, Miss Potts is entering the building, and I believe she is stopping by at floor 12, sir." Tony made an impatient noise. "Yes, yes, tell Pep I'm here."

"It's not that, sir," said Jarvis almost apologetically. "It's just that….level 12 is where Loki is being held."

Tony froze, then he clattered to his feet, heart raging against his ribs. Oh God, if he hurts her….

Then he felt someone's hand holding him back, and Tony scowled, attempting to wrench free as he looked down. It was Bruce. "Bruce, what the hell are you doing?" Tony snapped, voice laced with tension, fear and anger. "That's my Pepper we're talking about."

"Listen, and think this over rationally, Tony," said Bruce, his voice aggravatingly calm. "Even as we speak, Jarvis has darts that will drift Loki off to Dreamland aimed at him. He cannot harm Pepper anyway, because he will harm himself if he does. If Loki does not do anything to her, then we can rest easy. If Loki does and Jarvis uses the dart on him, then we have a good excuse to throw Loki's ass in a cell."

Tony was still fuming, but he no longer resisted Bruce's hold. "Tony," urged Bruce, "Think of this as a test. There is no way Loki can do anything to Pepper, anyway."

Tony exhaled, tension draining out of his body as his shoulders slumped. "Fine, Bruce," he acquiesced, but his voice was tight. "Jarvis, get me a live feed of Pepper. Now."

—————

Loki was bored.

He lay on his back on the neatly made, queen-sized bed in his bedroom. He wished there was a library on this floor —Midgardian books weren't all bad. But Loki had searched the whole place top and bottom; there just wasn't anything to read.

"Jarvis, where did Tony put that old painting of the sunset after he replaced it with his Iron Man portrait?" asked a sudden clear, female voice that sounded highly impatient. Loki's gaze swiveled to the door, raising an eyebrow lightly as he racked his brains, trying to figure out where he had heard that voice before.

That voice struck a faint, distant bell, and Loki's brow furrowed in concentration. Then it hit him.

After going through slides of Margaret Carter, Betty Ross and Jane Foster (curse her), Barton pulled up another video of a young, red-haired woman speaking at a press conference. "That's Potts," Barton said, staring at Loki out of the unnatural sheen of vibrant blue that covered his eyes. "Virginia Potts. People call her Pepper. She once was Stark's secretary, but she basically does everything for him, being the lazy, arrogant rich bastard he is."

"Stark gave her responsibility of Stark Industries, and now they're dating. She's Stark's girlfriend now, I believe, and he's crazy about her." Loki was only half-listening, he was still deep in thought about Jane Foster. Carter was already dead, Betty Ross would be hard to track down though Loki could do it. But he did not have any personal grudge against Banner. Thor, on the other hand… "tell me more about Thor's lover."

That was her, Loki was sure of it. A plan began to formulate itself in his mind, threaten her and force the Avengers to do whatever he demands. True, if he kills Potts he kills himself, but then Loki could say he didn't mind killing himself, and Thor knew only too well after the incident at the Bifrost.

But something was wrong, out of place. Things were far too easy for him. There were security cameras everywhere, Loki had noticed. And if Stark cared for Potts as much as Barton had said, well then, the Iron Man would be rushing in full speed. The lack of angry mortals confused him.

This was a test, Loki realized. They would have reinforcements, otherwise the Avengers, being the caring humans they were, would not risk it.

So he'd put on a show, Loki decided. He would be play nice and let the Avengers underestimate him.

Recalling all the information Loki could remember about Potts, he gracefully and noiselessly swung his legs to the floor. He rose, walking over to the open door as he slipped out, coming face-to-face with the woman Barton had shown him on the screen so long ago.

Stark's girlfriend and secretary was exceptionally pretty by Midgardian standards, but beautiful would be pushing the limit. Her reddish-gold hair was swept behind her in a half-ponytail, secured in place was an expensive-looking clip. Her face, smattered with dozens of red freckles, had an impatient look on it as she bit her lip.

When Virginia Potts saw Loki, she froze, but did not recognize him immediately. "Um, hello…" said Virginia, after a moment's pause. She was no fool, however, and addressed her next statement to the mystical, invisible butler of Stark. "Jarvis, does Tony know this man is here?"

"Yes."

Most definitely a trap, mused Loki. Otherwise, Jarvis would have immediately warned Potts. Now, time to turn the charm on.

Potts' face visibly relaxed, face breaking into a polite but warm smile that enhanced her sharp features. "Sorry," she apologized. "I'm a little paranoid with all this business about New York and stuff going on. Anyway, who are you, again?"

This is going to be fun.

"Loki Laufeyson," he said, dipping his head in acknowledgement of her, while inwardly he was grinning widely in anticipation of her reaction. He could not add, at your service, because he wasn't really at her service.

Virginia cocked her head sideways at him, but her eyes widened at this revelation. "Loki?" she breathed, understanding dawning on her face as horror sank in. "Oh my god, oh my god," she cried as she scrambled away from him. Loki, mentally reveling in that feeling of power as the mortal attempted to flee, caught her wrists as gently as he could. Apparently, it wasn't very gentle judging by the slight soreness that caught his own wrists.

"Jarvis!" shrieked Virginia, bringing her knee forward in an attempt to knee him in the groin. Loki's lips twitched in faint amusement. That was a foolish move on her part - if Loki hadn't been under restrictions, he could easily break her leg.

But Loki was not eager to suffer from a broken leg himself, so he stepped back quickly, and raised his hands in surrender.

"Listen, Virginia," Loki said, hoping the use of her first name would calm her down. "Listen. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm under certain…restrictions by my father. Basically, he set enchantments on me."

"Enchantments?" asked Virginia, curiosity on her face despite her predicament. There was resignation, also. Loki grimaced, but he knew that in this situation honesty would be the best choice. Not that he had much of an alternative, anyway.

"I can't harm you," replied Loki truthfully, smirking lightly at the thought of Loki and truth in the same sentence. "If I do, I'll feel whatever pain you do. But that's not all."

"What else?" ventured Potts, a look of horrified fascination etched on her attractive features. Loki was resigned. "I have to tell the truth," he answered. "No matter what."

Ms. Potts stared at him. "But where's Tony, then?" Loki shrugged. "Watching us, most likely. Out of that security camera." He gestured carelessly to the camera pointed at them. Virginia's jaw dropped. "Oh my god, oh my god," she said, sounding more indignant and annoyed than anything else. "Are you telling me he's been watching us the entire damn time?"

Loki resisted the urge to grin, having the feeling that a certain Tony Stark was about to get into serious trouble. "Yes."

Virginia turned and glared at the camera, hands on her hips. "Tony," she snapped. "Did you find it necessary to mention that there is a certain super villain in my house?"

Naturally, the security camera did not reply.

—
Clint hadn't been in the room when Tony and Bruce decided not to warn Pepper but to test Loki, but in the aftermath of the events that followed, Clint would soon wish that he had been.

He was in the elevator, pacing back and forth. "Jarvis," he said. "Pepper took my black shirt and she said she'd get it cleaned - where is she? Can you take me to her?"

Jarvis' reply was short and to the point. "I will, and Miss Potts is currently on Floor 12." Clint nodded absently, but then jerked his head up as the words sank in. "Floor 12," he breathed. "That's where Loki is."

"Sir," said Jarvis' ever patient voice. "I don't think it is advisable for you…" Clint ignored him. "I knew this would happen," he mumbled, pulling out his bow and quickly notching an arrow. "Tony's going to owe me."

"But what are you going to do, sir?" asked Jarvis, and one could say his voice sounded panicky. Clint looked up, a grim determination written on his face.

"I'm going to save Pepper."

Chapter Text

Clint walked quickly down the hallway, stepping sideways into the open kitchen.

There, standing in front of him, was Pepper and Loki, a couch —plain compared to Tony's regular lavish design—separated them.

Pepper did not see him at first, but Loki turned and looked over at him coolly. Then, as if Clint was just another insignificant insect, Loki glanced away uninterestedly and focused his attention on Pepper again. "Your chauffeur is here to escort you," Loki told her, and Pepper too, turned and looked at him.

"Hello, Clint," she said, looking slightly relieved. "What…"

Maybe it was his long day, maybe it was his rage at Loki being in the same building, or maybe it was the cold, mocking look on Loki's face. A look that clearly said, My little hawk. Did you miss having me in your head? Come back for more?

Either way, Clint saw red.

Clint flipped himself over the couch between him and Loki with ease, closing in the the distance in a moment. Perhaps if Loki had shown some sort of fear, just maybe Clint may have backed down.

In reality, Loki was very much afraid. He felt sure the Avengers were watching through the security cameras, but they would probably enjoy him being beaten at the hands of the archer. Thor, with his over-protectiveness, would surely come (though Loki didn't want him in the least bit), but maybe even Thor wouldn't understand the gravity of the situation.

Loki couldn't fight back. Well, he could, but punching Clint would only result in punching himself, and that was pretty much useless.

But even at his vulnerability, Loki had far too much pride to show fear that might stir sympathy in Barton. He, like Thor, was stubborn, probably even more. But it didn't show much, because Loki's will went in all sort of directions.
But Loki's biggest flaw was probably his pride. If it didn't suit his purposes, Loki never begged. Maybe to Frigga he could lower himself to invoke sympathy from her, maybe even to Thor if he really needed to. But Odin was a big no. Mortals, too, were a huge limit.

So Loki just smirked at the furious Clint, who drew closer. Now, Barton had an arrow notched, string taut as he aimed it at him. "How dare you come back?" Barton hissed. "How dare you, after everything?" Loki did not mention that it was not of his own will that he was here, in truth, he would much rather be in a cell on Asgard instead of suffering indignity after indignity at the hands of these mortal heroes.

Instead, he grinned at Clint. "What is this, Agent Barton? Mutiny? A slave rebelling against his master?"

"Stop it, the two of you!" cried Pepper, gesturing widely with her hands. The two of them ignored her. "This is a hero," growled Clint, "killing a monster."

~Monster.~

~You're a monster.~

~Useless, worthless….~

With a howling battlecry, Clint charged at Loki, who mockingly sidestepped away neatly, hands neatly folded behind his back. "You fucking son of a bitch."

Clint, raged as he was, had his own code of honor and did not shoot Loki, because he was unarmed. But he forgot that Loki couldn't harm him without harming himself, and Clint aimed a kick at Loki's stomach. Loki danced away, calling out derisively to him. "Come on, little hawk," urged Loki. "Surely you can do better than that."

~I'll show you better.~

Clint went into full battle mode, punching Loki hard in the jaw, quick so the trickster could not dodge it. After the punch landed, however, Clint realized what a mistake that was. It left his ribs open, unprotected from Loki's fists. Clint felt a twinge of surprise when he did not feel pain there, instead, Loki locked his legs around his own, sending the two of them crashing to the ground.

What resulted was a sort of tussle, Clint wrestling, punching and kicking Loki in a blind rush of rage and fury. Loki landed a few punches every now and then, but Hawkeye was too furious to note the look of pain on Loki's face after each blow.

To an outsider, it would seem like a slightly comical dance, Clint charging like an angry bull and Loki blithely gliding away. The god of lies was no longer laughing now, instead, his full attention was on darting away.

"Clint!" wailed Pepper. "Stop it! Can't you see? He can't fight back!" Once again, neither paid any attention to her.

"Jarvis," Pepper said, turning her attention to the AI, "Get Tony down here, right this minute."

"He is already on his way," replied Jarvis. "Along with the rest of the Avengers." Pepper looked worried, unsure of what to do.

That's when Clint fired the arrow.

It had not been a fierce, deadly, accurate shot as he always shot it. If Loki could catch one of those, then he could easily dodge this arrow.

However, Clint had forgotten that Pepper had been right behind Loki.

Loki hastily sidestepped it, then froze as the arrow headed towards a dumbstruck Pepper. He wasn't doing this for anyone. He was doing this for himself, to gain the Avengers' favor.

On full speed, Loki rushed towards Pepper, shielding her with his body as he barreled into her side as the two of them smashed into the floor. But Loki hadn't been fast enough—the arrow embedded itself into his side, burying deep as Loki bit back a cry of agony.

Everything was fading now, Loki was aware of a panicked Virginia shrieking, "Tony, get over here!" Someone was muttering, "Oh shit, oh shit, shit, shit," and Loki was dimly conscious of someone saying, "Get Banner!"

Then everything faded to black.

—
"What happened?!" cried Thor, rushing full speed into the room. Clint glanced his way, unable to suppress the huge ball of guilt in his stomach as he looked down at Loki, gasping for breath with an arrow buried in his side.

Clint's arrow.

Tony didn't even look at him, instead, he brushed by him as though Clint wasn't even there as he walked over to a panicked Pepper. "Bruce?"

Bruce glanced soberly over at Thor for a moment. "He's not dead," he said, and Clint mentally let out a sigh of relief. He wasn't sure what was the punishment for killing a prince of Asgard, but he wasn't particularly eager to find out. But the next words that Bruce uttered tightened Clint's frame again. "But he's clinging on to life—only barely. We need to hurry if we want to save him."

Thor looked sorrowfully at Clint, as if to say, why? Clint couldn't handle that. He could handle angry words, even fists, but that look of sadness Loki's brother gave him….it was too much. It was wood, wood that fueled the burning fiery ball of guilt in Clint's stomach.

"Oh my god," Pepper was hyperventilating. "Tony…he saved my life." If it hadn't been for Loki, Clint realized, It would be Pepper lying there, except this time, the arrow would be sticking straight out of her heart.

Clint felt sick.

-----

"I didn't know you were a healer," said Loki wryly, allowing a touch of irony to escape through. Bruce Banner, the Hulk, the destroyer of cities, was a doctor. 

Bruce looked up at him, unruffled. "I didn't know you would take an arrow for someone you've never met before today," he countered calmly.

Loki didn't want to elaborate on his selfish reasons on saving Virginia Potts, so he just shrugged.

He was in a healing room, painted a pale yellow in color, and Banner was tending to his injury. In reality, it was Loki who was doing most of the healing. The All-Father had not removed his magic—he had merely suppressed it. Yet not all of it was bound, a little bit was free in his body.

It wasn't enough to do anything of importance. He could cast illusions that could only last for a handful of seconds, and do light healing on himself. If the All-Father was aware of it, Loki did not know, but he wasn't arguing.

But there was a slight illusion that Loki had cast before he slipped into unconsciousness, not anything big. Just a little glamor to touch up his face, so Loki didn't have to hide the pain flashing across his face. It hadn't been a big deal, instinctive, because after every injury he had obtained Loki had too much pride to let his real emotions play across his face.

"I'm going to let you rest for a little while," said Banner finally. "Thankfully, your bones and muscles seem to be stronger than most, so you'll mend." Loki nodded his head in acknowledgment as he lay back on the pillows. Banner flashed him an unreadable look, before nodding slightly to himself and slipping out the door.

Loki didn't really need rest, he knew. His magic was already working to mend his wound, not as quickly as if he'd had all his energy with him, but it was working good enough. He was just about to see if Jarvis was in the room when the door opened and Anthony Stark hesitantly stepped in.

Ah, thought Loki in amusement. Here comes the thanks.

Stark glanced at him as he walked in, closing the door behind him as he uncomfortably shifted from foot to foot. "So," he began weakly in an attempt to start a conversation, "You're getting better, now?" Loki watched him carefully.

"Your Bruce Banner has been treating me well," he replied quietly.

"Um, good," said Stark awkwardly. "Yes, that's—that's very good." Loki didn't answer, but his eyes did not leave Stark's.

"Was there a purpose in coming here?" inquired Loki bluntly. "Or did you come here just to attempt to make a conversation?"

Stark blinked. "Right," he said, getting to the point. "I don't like it, but I guess I have to thank you, Loki. If it hadn't been for you, Pepper would've been dead right now."

Loki resisted the urge to smile at the blow to Stark's mountainous ego. "I ever-so-graciously accept your thanks."

Stark nodded, fidgeting aimlessly as the awkwardness began to settle again. "I'll get going now," he said, and quickly he darted out of the room.

—
Don't sleep, don't sleep…

Those were the hollow words that echoed numbly and meaninglessly around Loki's mind repetitively as he began to nod. He hadn't gone to sleep for who knows how long, to keep himself of revisiting those old nightmares that haunted him, a shadow that trailed him no longer how hard he tried to shake it.

Loki immediately scorned himself. He, Loki, was being scared by a few childish nightmares. He could face them, if he stopped acting like a child.

Leaning back on his pillows, he closed his eyes as sleep blessedly washed over him. But it wasn't long before old memories were stirred.

---FLASHBACK-----

"Does Asgard's king require anything else?"

Loki was too weak to speak, so he didn't waste breath replying. Instead, he focused on merely breathing, concentrating on inhaling and exhaling slowly as he tried to ignore the pain everywhere.

His wrists were bound securely at his sides, but they served no purpose, for there was no way that Loki could walk, let alone escape. He leaned his head against the pillar behind him, bracing himself for the next drop of snake venom.

It came slowly, dropping onto his shoulder where a raw, bloody wound lay open. Loki would've screamed, if he had any breath left to. His bloody fingernails aimlessly scratched the ground pain was sharp, flaring and burning as Loki hissed, biting his lip so hard that his mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood.

In the beginning it had been better. The great serpent had dripped his poison on him, and when the first drop fell, Loki screamed like he'd never screamed before, writhing as he cursed Thanos and the Chitauri in all the languages he could think of. His magic had worked instantly, knitting the wound together until all that remained was a light scar that would've disappeared in time. But the snake wasn't done. The next drop fell only moments later, and it went on and on, until the snake went to rest at night.

The next day was filled with screams, pain and agony as well, except Loki's magic wasn't working as fast. By the end of the long, timeless week, Loki's magic could no longer work so fast. When the night fell, his magic would heal him completely.

In a month's time, Loki's magic couldn't heal fully at the nighttime. So the next morning, burning, poisonous venom spilled onto open, bleeding wounds. It didn't flare up and die away, either. It was consistent and painful, each burn reminding Loki it was there.

He'd screamed in the beginning, until venom spilled into his mouth and Loki could only look around with wild green eyes, filmed over with pure agony.

It had went on for who knows how long, years, decades, centuries? Loki had screamed for help, every scrap of dignity deserting him as he screamed for Thor, for Frigga, for Odin, of all people. But no one came, and all he had was the filthy murmuring of the Chitauri, mocking and cruel.

But Thanos had the Chitauri bring Loki before him, and Loki went, to weak to resist. Not that he wanted to resist, anyway. Anything but sitting under that cursed serpent.

Thanos had sat before him, leering. Loki could barely stand, and the Chitauri had to drag him along. "So," Thanos mused mockingly. "This is Loki, the Prince of Asgard. I'd expected more than this."

What did you expect then, you brute, thought Loki, after torturing me for god knows how long?

Thanos' lips quirked upwards, as if he knew what Loki was thinking. "I have a proposition for you, little prince," said Thanos. "Something to get you out of here. For good. You just have to do one, little favor for me, unless, of course, you do not wish to leave our hospitality."

Loki was done. He could only imagine what horrors Thanos and the Chitauri could come up with for him. "I'll do it," Loki rasped, voice hoarse from not speaking for so long. Just screams. Thanos' lips stretched into a cruel smile.

"There's something I need," said Thanos. "A Tesseract. On Midgard." Loki would've nodded, if he could. "I need you to command my army."

Loki opened his mouth to assure Thanos he would, of course he would. But Thanos needed more.

The trickster's eyes widened at the pressure in his mind. "No," Loki pleaded, knowing what was coming. This was worse, ten times worse than what he'd been through. Thanos was entering his mind, and Loki could only imagine the tortures one could conduct in another's mind.

Thanos just smiled again. "Ready, my little prince?" Loki was not aware that he was crying, he never cried. "No, I swear, please!" begged Loki. But it was to no avail.

With full force, Thanos slammed into Loki's mind.

----END FLASHBACK----

Green eyes opening, Loki screamed.

—

"What the bloody hell is that?"

Thor gripped Mjolnir tightly, glancing over at Tony Stark. He looked tired, blinking blearily. All the Avengers were there, and Clint already had an arrow notched. Steve looked slightly embarrassed, cheeks reddened as he averted his eyes from the low neckline of Natasha's tank top, displaying a generous portion of her cleavage. Bruce looked as calm and placid as ever.

"I know not," admitted Thor, unable to stamp out the unusual twinge of recognition. Natasha was frowning, but her eyes looked vaguely amused at Steve's embarrassment. "Surely it's not a person," she said. "It sounds like an animal. God, what is that? That sound is forever going to haunt me."

"As much as your neckline is going to haunt Steve," added Clint.

Steve chose to ignore that. "Jarvis, what is that sound?"

"I believe that is Loki, sir," replied Jarvis. Tony blinked. "What?" he interjected. "Jarvis, bring up the security cams for Loki's bedroom."

Jarvis did so, and Thor caught his breath. "Fuck," muttered Clint as he stared at the screen.

Loki was writhing on the sheets, screaming wildly as his fingers dug into his hair. Thor felt his heart twist. "Loki!" he cried. Steve looked dazed. "Thor, does your brother usually do this?"

Thor felt gratified when Steve said, 'your brother,' but he answered the question. "He has nightmares," Thor replied, "But none like this, I'm sure. He's never acted this way before." Bruce sighed wearily. "What do we do then, guys?" he asked, looking over at Steve.

Steve was watching Thor, who was staring numbly at the screen. "Thor," he said cautiously, "can you, can you handle your brother? I don't think we can do much now."

"Yes, yes," muttered Thor incoherently, mind racing. What could make Loki, his calm, dignified brother, scream like that?

Whatever it was, Thor was about to find out.

Chapter Text

Thor slammed into Loki's room, fingers tightening its grip around the handle of Mjolnir.

Loki was still screaming wildly, kicking against the sheets as his fingers tore through his hair in an agony. Thor's heart twisted painfully, while he still had doubts. Loki was a master at performing, he thought hesitantly. But all doubts were washed away as Loki cried out again. Not even Loki could fake that.

Thor rushed over to Loki, unsure of what to do. "Loki," he began, but Loki did not even look at him. Gingerly, Thor reached out and touched Loki's shoulder, opening his mouth to speak again.

The response was instant. Loki tensed as if he'd been shot under Thor's fingers, and hastily Thor withdrew his hand. But the damage, whatever it was, had been done.

Loki turned to him, vivid green eyes wild with a slightly manic look in them. Thor stepped back involuntarily.

"Brother…"

With a snarl, Loki charged him.

Thor gripped Mjolnir tightly, prepared to use it but not really wanting to. He knew Stark and the others were watching him through the odd little cameras installed in nearly every room, so he was not very worried. His worry was more for Loki.

But Loki's attack was poor and not at all his style. Instead of the sharp, precisely-calculated jabs that Loki would always use, all that landed were wild, fierce punches—more Thor's style. Yet these strikes did not have the power and force behind them as they did with Thor, as though Loki was not fighting to win.

When Thor realized this, another look into Loki's eyes confirmed his theory that Loki was not really awake yet. Unwilling to hurt his brother, Thor hurriedly stepped away. Loki attempted another blow, but Thor gently yet firmly caught the trickster's wrists, glancing up at the camera.

"I can handle this," Thor reassured the Avengers. "I'm sure this—"

Loki rammed his head against Thor's, and Thor lost his balance and tripped over a chair, sending the two of them crashing to the ground. Loki grabbed Thor's neck in a poor attempt to choke him, but Thor rolled over easily.

They were both on their feet quickly. "Loki," Thor ventured again. But Loki, ignoring him, tried to slam into him, but Thor held him in a solid grip. Enough of this, thought Thor.

Forcing Loki back, Thor pinned him effectively against the wall. Loki was glaring at him. "Lo-ki," said Thor, dark blue eyes locking onto Loki's unnatural, brilliant jaded ones. "Listen to me. I'm Thor, and you aren't dreaming anymore. Wake up, Loki."

Loki blinked, and as his eyes fluttered open, the deranged, mad light flickered out of them. "Oh, Thor," said Loki weakly, no longer struggling under his iron grip. "It's you." His shoulders relaxed from its erect, tensed posture as Loki wearily leaned his head back.

Thor, after looking him over for a few seconds, released him and stepped back. Loki stumbled forward, head bowed as his eyes stared at the floor—not in guilt or shame, but as though he were reflecting on something. "Loki, what was that?" demanded Thor, impatience rising up when Loki did not rise his head or reply immediately.

But Odin's enchantment did not allow Loki to remain silent. "'Twas nothing," replied Loki after a moment's pause. "Merely a dream…a nightmare," Loki added reluctantly after a prodding from the enchantment. "Just old memories."

Thor gripped Loki's sides firmly, not noting Loki's sharp intake of breath, in his anger. "Memories?" asked Thor, bile rising in his throat. "Who did that? What happened to you, brother, that could make you scream so?"

Loki avoided eye contact. "I misspoke," said Loki, seeming to realize his mistake in saying that the nightmare was a memory. "Look, Thor, it is my own problem. Let it be."

Thor clutched Loki tighter, missing the way his brother's face paled. "Tell me," growled Thor. Outside, the sky began to darken. Thanks to the All-Father, Loki had no choice.

"Thanos and the Chitauri," the answer forced itself out of Loki's mouth. "I met them after I fell off the Bifrost.

They—they were not kind hosts, I fear."

Thor gripped Loki even more roughly, giving him a harsh shake. Loki forced back a cry. "What do you mean?"

"Thor," murmured Loki, voice too soft to be his. But Thor was in too blind a rage. "You mean after the Bifrost you were being tortured?"

"Thor," said Loki again, louder this time, his voice suppressed and eerily calm. Thor just held Loki tighter, trying to swamp down on his anger. Though who he was angry at, precisely, Thor didn't know. Thanos and the Chitauri, for dare harming his brother? Loki, for being such a fool to let go on the Bifrost in the first place? Or was this guilt, and was Thor angry at himself for not being there for Loki?

"Thor!" gasped Loki finally in a choked, strangled cry. Now, Thor knew something was wrong as he looked at Loki. His brother's face was dangerously grey. "Thor, you doofus," managed Loki, face an unnatural, sickly shade of white. "L—let go, you fool!"

Instantly, Thor withdrew his hands, still on alert. But something didn't seem right. Thor glanced down at his hands, sucking in his breath sharply at the sight of them. They were drenched with warm, sticky red blood. "By the Norns," breathed Thor in horror. The whole time, the entire damned time, Thor had been grabbing and shaking up Loki's wound.

"Bruce!" cried Thor in a panic, face turning to the camera. Loki's face was ashen, breath erratic and coming out in harsh gasps. "Please, help me!"

Loki's legs were wobbling dangerously, and they could no longer hold up his weight. His knees buckled underneath him, and only Thor's quick reflexes kept Loki from crumbling to the ground.

Loki, still conscious, looked humiliated at being carried in his brother's arms despite his predicament. "Put me down, you idiot," Loki began, voice starting off as a sharp retort and eventually fading into a weak murmur.

"Thor!" said Bruce, slipping quickly into the small room, dark eyes calm behind his glasses. Thor felt a sigh of relief escape involuntarily from his lips at the sight of the doctor. "Here," ordered Bruce, bustling around as he immediately took charge of the situation.

Loki felt so light in Thor's arms, as though he were only a a delicate feather or a fragile piece of glass, ready to fall apart at the slightest breath of air. He may have done much evil, thought Thor, but Loki was still Thor's brother. And whoever had done this to Loki, Thor vowed, would suffer the consequences.

—

"I thought I'd find you here."

Thor did not turn or acknowledge the presence behind him, but Natasha went and sat down next to him anyway, sliding to the floor and resting her back on the wall. She exaggerated a shiver. "Brr, it's cold," she said, wrapping her sweater around herself tighter.

"Good evening, Lady Natasha," Thor said finally. Natasha arched an eyebrow. "I've told you," she said, sounding more amused than anything, "No need for formalities. Just Natasha."

Thor nodded, throwing her a sideways glance. "Where are the others?"

Natasha was staring out, gazing at the brilliant lights of New York, standing out sharply against the blanket of darkness behind it. "Doing their own thing," she answered, purposely misinterpreting it as if Thor meant, Find someone else and leave me alone. But Thor wasn't sure if Natasha was exactly misinterpreting it.

After a heavy silence hung between them for a moment, Natasha elaborated. "Pepper accidentally watched the recorded footage, of, you know, Loki and everything," she told him. "She got freaked out, and she can't handle blood very well. So after…Loki's injury got a little shaken up," Natasha added carefully, "She practically lost it, and I think everything with the Chitauri attack and Tony almost dying finally got to her. Pepper's in hysterics, and Tony's comforting her."

Once another silence passed, Natasha spoke again. "Bruce is with Loki," she said. "Clint just left to his room afterwards and wouldn't let anybody in. I asked Steve if he wanted a drink, but,"—Natasha laughed lightly, "he looked as though he'd seen a ghost. I told him I'd change my shirt, but he seemed even more embarrassed after. Steve excused himself real quick after."

Though it wasn't all that funny, Thor let out a sharp bark of laughter, the pang of nostalgia stinging him painfully. That was how Loki had always been, he thought. Thor had been very liberal with the ladies, taking a different one to bed nearly every night. Loki had always blushed and looked mortified when a scantily clad girl—naked except for one of Thor's old cloaks draped over her shoulders—had slipped out of Thor's bedroom, hair disheveled.

Thor had thought it highly amusing, and teased Loki to no end over this, who was definitely not amused. Loki had always been different from Thor and his friends, he realized. Thor liked gallivanting off on daring adventures with Sif and the Warriors Three, but Loki preferred spending the day in the library, head bent over a heavy, thick volume as he practiced the more 'womanly' arts of magic.

What had happened? thought Thor sorrowfully. When they were younger, Loki always tagged behind Thor faithfully. Thor never worried over Loki because his little brother was always at his heels. Loki and Thor had been inseparable. Loki told Thor everything, and Thor told Loki everything.

But something had happened. Thor had begun to tease Loki more with his friends, until after a while Loki had just closed up. Thor realized he'd never really known Loki. He knew Loki's little quirks, his habits, his fighting style, what food he liked, how he hated the way short hair felt around his ears, and how he preferred the rich shade of oak green to the royal colors of red and purple. Yet what was underneath that, Thor wasn't entirely sure.

"So," said Natasha abruptly, "I came to see how you're holding up." Thor blinked, shaken out of his deep thoughts as he opened his mouth, attempting to think of a reply.

Natasha smiled suddenly, a warm, seemingly-genuine, sympathetic smile full of pity and understanding. "And you don't seem to be holding up too well," finished Natasha softly, her gentle murmur laced with consolation and empathy. Her blue-green eyes were compassionate, inviting him to share and confide in her.

Yet Thor knew better then to fully believe her act. She was a trained assassin, skilled in lying and acting. Thor was a horrible liar, as Loki had so often told him in their younger years. Yet Thor had grown up with the god of lies in his house, and he had become well accustomed to discerning a lie from a truth.

It was simple, really. Natasha was so closed off, face drawn and expressionless during their discussions, that all the warmth and understanding on her face could only be an act. There were two things that could be going on. Either Natasha felt no emotion what-so-ever and was faking it all, or she actually felt something, yet instead of disguising it as she usually would, she allowed it to slip through her mask for the sake of gaining information. Thor sincerely hoped the latter was correct.

Yet there was no need for this facade, Thor knew. He would have told Natasha everything anyway. Well, not everything, but all the important bits she and the Avengers needed to know to save their realm.

"Loki was tortured," he said, cutting straight to the chase. Natasha's eyes flickered briefly with surprise when she realized he saw her facade, but she clamped it out and nodded wordlessly. Thor did not call her out on it, but went on. "He was tortured by the Chitauri and Thanos," he said, voice emotionless because he could not fake emotions, and wasn't ready for Natasha to easily read his real ones.

A light of understanding dawned in her eyes. "Are you saying Loki didn't initiate the attack of his own free will?" asked Natasha. Her voice sounded understanding, as though she understood what Loki had gone through, but Thor couldn't be sure if it was feigned or real. That was the curse of a liar, reflected Thor. Nobody ever knew if you told the truth her not.

After looking at her expectant gaze, Thor considered the question. He frowned, torn between lying and wringing sympathy from her, gaining an ally for Loki, and the fact that he lied to his friends. He went with the latter.

"I do not entirely believe so," Thor admitted reluctantly. "He brought the Frost Giants over to Asgard on my coronation and attacked a city here with the Destroyer, and he was sane then." After considering his words, Thor went back and amended them. "Well, I'm not sure if he was entirely sane," said Thor thoughtfully. "But he was not being mind-controlled then, for sure."

"Ah," nodded Natasha. There was nothing more to be said.

"Speaking of Puente Antiguo, the city Loki attacked,"—Natasha added after Thor's confused look—"Tony wanted to know if you'd like Jane flying over here. It was meant to be a surprise for you, we had it all planned out beautifully," she said, the perfect touch of regret lacing her voice. "But we weren't sure if you wanted her over now, with the Loki situation and all," she said, gesturing vaguely with her hands.

At Thor's brow furrow, Natasha felt obliged to explain. "You told us last visit you were coming soon, within in the next couple of weeks," she informed him. "We just told Jane to get everything ready to leave after a moment's notice. Stark was going to get one of his jets to fly her in."

Thor was touched. "Thank you," he said sincerely, warmed by the consideration of his friends. "But I'm not entirely sure if I can have her over. I need to think it over, may I tell you tomorrow for certain?"

Natasha agreed. "Of course," she told him. "There's no rush." After a moment of thought, Natasha added a bit at the end. "Unless if you're leaving for Asgard."

"No," Thor hastened to assure her. "I will stay here as long as Loki is here, to keep an eye on him. I would not leave you with such a burden." Although it was not clearly seen on her face, Thor got the impression that she was greatly relieved.

"Shall we go inside now?" asked Natasha, getting to her feet gracefully. "I'm getting a little chilly, and I need to see how Clint is." Thor gestured to her. "Of course, if you need to leave," he said, "You may leave. Don't let me keep you."

Natasha nodded. "Good night then, Thor," she said. "Good night," Thor answered. Natasha turned to leave, hand pausing above the doorknob. "By the way," she said, voice devoid of expression, "just remember if you need somebody to talk to, I'm there."

Thor wasn't sure if that was another lie, or a truth.

But it was nice to think it was true.

Chapter Text

Who the hell is calling at two in the goddamn morning?

Groaning, Natasha fumbled blindly for the phone, frowning at the unknown number. But she accepted it anyway. "Hello?" she inquired politely enough, but allowed a note of Calling people at two in the morning is not a courteous thing to do to escape through her voice.

"Natasha?" asked a familiar, confused voice. "Thor?" questioned Natasha, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her lips in spite of the earliness of the hour. "Did you need anything?"

"I have decided," said Thor. "I'd like to have Jane over."

Natasha's smile only grew. "Yeah, that's great, Thor," she said hazily, blearily blinking her eyes. "But couldn't this wait until the morning?"

Thor's voice immediately switched to a contrite tone. "I am sorry," he apologized profusely, "Have I waken you?"

"Yes, you have," said Natasha, "But don't worry, it's fine. So, about Jane, are you absolutely certain you want her over? With Loki and everything?"

"Yes," said Thor confidently. "I have given the matter much thought, but I do not believe, if we are careful, that Loki would even know she is here. He is restricted to only one floor, no?"

"No. I mean yes," answered Natasha, becoming slightly muddled. "But yeah, I guess if we're really careful, everything will go smoothly. But next time, call after the sun rises."

"My apologies, Lady Natasha," said Thor gentlemanly. "Tony just told me that it would take her five hours to fly over, and I wished to enjoy the pleasure of her company today itself." Natasha pulled a dry look on her face, not sure what enjoy the pleasure of her company really meant, and to be honest, the Black Widow didn't think she really wanted to know.

"I'll call Stark, then," she said, grinning in the dark at the thought of Tony's annoyed voice.

"You won't disturb him, right?" asked Thor anxiously.

Natasha grinned again. "Oh, no," she assured him. "No, not at all. After all, everyone knows that playboy, genius billionaires adore being waken up at two in the morning."

—

Loki stirred, opening his eyes as he took in his surroundings. He was staring at a familiar broad back, with familiar, muscled arms hanging at the sides and a familiar hammer was being twirled between skilled fingers. Immediately, Loki closed his eyes again.

"Tell me when he awakens," said Thor's voice. "I will come immediately." Lucky me.

"Sure, Thor," Bruce reassured him. Thor strode easily out of the small room, and Loki felt relieved. Not for long, however.

"He's gone now," said a dryly amused voice. "You can open your eyes." Loki, caught out, was torn between feigning unconsciousness, or getting up and resigning himself to the fact that he couldn't outwit the mortal doctor. He opted for the latter.

Grudgingly he opened his eyes, scowling as he slid up in his seat and leaned comfortably on the pillows. Banner opened his mouth to speak, but Thor briskly walked back into the room, brilliantly blue eyes lighting up as they fell upon his brother. "Loki!" he exclaimed in delight.

Bruce smiled lightly. "I'll leave you to it," he murmured, quietly sliding out of the room. Loki glared at his retreating back, then turned resignedly to Thor.

There was something unusual about Thor, though Loki couldn't put his finger on it. His sharp green eyes ran over Thor's body. Something irked him, but what?

It was the way he was dressed, Loki realized. Thor was dressed more formally than usual, and his blue eyes were dancing as though contemplating some unseen joy. His blond locks were tied back loosely, and Thor struggled to keep his face from breaking into a broad smile.

"Why are you so happy?" demanded Loki at once. Normally, Thor would've looked confused, but now, a guilty, uncomfortable look flashed over his face. "Why—why, just to see you, Loki!" exclaimed Thor with false cheer. Loki's green eyes narrowed in suspicion as his mind worked overtime, having an inkling that there was something very big linked to Thor's happiness, but what?

"I am not your brother," Loki said absently as he tried to fit the puzzle pieces together. But the pieces didn't want to be fit together. It could be a coincidence….but is the universe ever so lazy?

There was that dreamy look in Thor's eyes again as he gazed hazily at Loki. Loki was just about to sardonically comment, Take a picture, it lasts longer, when it all suddenly clicked.

Thor was lovestruck.

Thor was only in love with one person, as far as he knew. And that person was…Jane Foster.

Loki wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. How lucky he was, the mortal woman delivered into his waiting jaws, and how stupid were the Avengers to let her come while he was there. He'd researched nearly everything there was to know about her, carefully planning an attack on her. He just never got around to it, however.

Now, maybe he'd get the chance.

—

"Nice dress, Pepper," commented Tony as he walked with her, Pepper sliding her arm into his. Pepper smiled appreciatively.

"Yes, isn't it pretty?" she asked eagerly. But Tony wasn't done.

"They'd look better on my bedroom floor, though" he said charmingly, offering her a snarky grin as Pepper frowned at what Tony was implying.

"They'd look even better rammed down your sorry throat," returned Pepper.

Tony's grin grew wider."As long as they're off, I'm good."

In a huff, Pepper rustled past him. Tony looked amused, but his pleased expression was wiped away as Natasha walked over. "Where's the sorry bastard?" he demanded, voice low enough so Pepper couldn't catch it.

If Natasha was displeased at his address of her partner, she didn't show it. "Gone," she replied. "I'm not sure where he is now." Tony was sure that was a lie, because Natasha knew everything there was to know about the archer.

"Listen, Tasha," said Tony, voice serious. "He shot at my girl. Avenger or not, he's not getting away with this without consequences. I'm fucking pissed off right now, and if you knew where he is, you'd better spill."

Natasha did not reply, face impassive but Tony knew she was deep in thought. Finally, she replied.

"I would," she answered hesitantly. "I would tell you, Tony, but it's confidential. Clint trusted me with the location of this place, but I can assure you he cannot stay there long. It's too much for him…emotionally." Tony just frowned, but he supposed it could wait.

"Whatever," he mumbled, changing the subject. "Tell Thor that I completely closed off all the entrances to Loki, so Jane will be safe enough. She doesn't know he's there, right?"

"No," Natasha replied. "I'll tell him."

—

Jane was nervous.

Why would the Avengers, of all people, ask to see her? Tony had here flown over here in almost no time at all, but Jane had not enjoyed the luxurious ride at all, racking her brains as to why they wanted her.

Jane had watched footage of what happened in New York, and frankly, she'd been furious that Thor hadn't visited her. Sure, he was busy saving New York from being annihilated by his crazed younger brother, and that wasn't bad as far as excuses went. But still….he might've dropped by before flying off to Asgard.

Jane wished Thor was with the Avengers; she really wanted to lay eyes on him one more time, to make sure he was all right. To hug him, to kiss him, or just to have him hold her.

Her dark eyes clouded over at the memories of him, bringing a sharp ache to her stomach. When would she see him again? Had he forgotten her—a little grubby mortal tucked away in the vast reaches of the galaxy—and found a more beautiful Asgardian lady back at his home?

Jane sighed, wrapping her light sweater around her tighter. There was no way to know for sure.

It wasn't long before the elevator rolled to a stop, and the queasiness filled her stomach again as the grey door slid open easily.

The first person she saw was Tony, standing awkwardly with hands jammed in his pockets. He had never met her personally, nor she him. They had conversed on the phone many times, discussing theories and having heart-to-heart scientific conversations.

With her heart in her mouth, Jane realized all the Avengers were there. She just expected Tony to give her a light welcome, then to tell her why he called her over. But what…

"Um, hello, Mr. Stark," began Jane, unsure of how to address him. He just grinned, breaking the ice. "Just Tony," he told her, then enveloped her into a sudden hug. After he released her, the pretty redhead—the Black Widow—smiled at her, and Jane remembered her from the videos too. Then Tony stepped back, allowing her a clear view behind him.

Jane glanced over his shoulder, but her features froze into an expression of shock as she saw who was standing there, out of his armor but casually dressed in regular clothing.

Time seemed to freeze as Jane gaped at him, falling in love all over again. She took a step forward, then another as her liquid brown eyes locked onto his electric blue ones. Then she began to walk, pace slowing increasing as she ran as fast as she could, throwing herself onto him, laughing and crying.

Thor caught her easily, sweeping her off her feet as he spun her around. Then he laid her gently on her feet. "Jane," he started, but Jane didn't let him finish.

She stood on the tips of her toes to lock her arms around his neck, entwining her fingers into Thor's dark blond hair as she forced him forward. Thor didn't hesitate as he bent over, encircling his arm around her slender waist, drawing her in as his lips crushed against hers in a passionate embrace.

They were oblivious to everything—the knowing smile on Natasha's face, the way Steve ducked his head bashfully as he shuffled his feet, the way Tony pretended to fiddle with the buttons on his jacket—they knew nothing. There was nobody in the world but them, kissing and kissing as though it were their last.

They probably would have stayed like that for a bit longer, but the sudden ringing of Natasha's phone jerked them back to reality from their blissful dreaming.

Natasha smiled apologetically. "I've got to take this," she excused herself, ducking out of the room. Jane didn't turn her head, but stepped back lightly, looking up at Thor's face as though she couldn't get enough of him.

"You've got a lot of explaining to do," she said, attempting to make herself sound angry, but it only came out as giddy and excited. Thor just emailed. "Then let us talk it over in my room," he said, and the two of them slipped off.

—

"Hello?" asked Natasha, slightly impatiently. It better not be a stupid advertisement.

"Mrs. Romanoff?" came the confused reply. "What device is this?" Loki tried not to smile. He knew what a phone was—he just wanted proof that Jane Foster was indeed there.

An exasperated sigh came from the line. "This is a phone, Loki," said the widow. But Loki was not paying attention to her voice, instead his concentration was on the background voices. There was Thor—and a female voice. He'd know that voice anywhere.

It was Jane.

Leaning back in his pillows, he gave a sigh of content. "Never mind," he said into the speaker. He flipped the phone off, then dropped it on the bed.

His mind worked at top rate, piecing together a plan, leaving almost no loopholes for failure. If all went well, Loki would be out of this dump by tomorrow.

Life was finally going his way again. He'd been dull and listless before, without a plan and enslaved to mortals.

But now he had a purpose.

Oh, and it was glorious.

Chapter Text

Loki inhaled deeply, then exhaled just as slowly. What was going to happen needed all of his strength.

He relaxed his body, draining the tension that tensed his limbs as his mind drifted off freely. He did not restrict anything—no longer did he firmly push away fond childhood memories of Frigga, Thor and Odin. He let himself think of whatever he wanted.

It was a loosening, stress-free exercise that Loki had practiced dutifully. It gave him a feeling of peace, yet there was an uneasy, unnerving feeling of not being in control. Yet all sorcerers had to master this.

He let his senses wander, until he could feel the presence of every object in the little room. But Loki did not restrain himself to merely there, but his senses drifted until he could feel every living being two floors above him—the floor of the Avengers.

Loki forced himself to stay calm and stress-free, and picked up on each of the Avengers' presence. Stark was in bed with Pepper, and both were in a deep sleep. That was good, because every night that Loki had checked, it was usually Stark who was awake from a nightmare of his time in Afghanistan, and Pepper murmured comforting words to him and rubbed his back soothingly. In fact, Loki was astonished at how little the Avengers slept.

Next was Agent Romanoff. She, too, was often awake, due to nightmares as well. She slept lightly, and Loki knew that could be a problem. He needed her for something important—knives. He draped a heavy blanket of drowsiness over her, and Natasha Romanoff was immediately out cold.

Clint Barton, his former minion, had finally fallen asleep, but he kept tossing and muttering incoherently in his sleep. Loki felt his anxiety and fretfulness. Steve Rogers, the Captain, did not sleep lightly nor heavily, but he did not seem to be dreaming, and he wasn't worrying either. So no problem there. Bruce slept sparingly, but he was farther from the other Avengers. After a quick glance into his confused, jumbled-up mind, Loki concluded that he was not in the middle of a nightmare either.

Finally, Thor's room. Loki gritted his teeth, but directed his consciousness over to the familiar presence of

his broth—Thor.

Thor had always been a heavy sleeper, and now was no exception. He had sunk into a deep, dreamless sleep, and Loki exhaled in relief. Jane was lying next to him, chest rising and falling as she took slow, steady breaths. Loki smiled to himself. Now was the perfect time to execute his plan.

—

Jane blinked open her eyes suddenly, unsure of why she was awake in the first place. Before she could close her eyes and fall asleep again, she felt a prick at the back of her consciousness.

Jane frowned, attempting to fall asleep again, when suddenly a waterfall of feelings washed over her. She gasped, almost giddy.

Elation.

That was what she felt. Jane felt as though she were a young child and it was Christmas all over again, except this time that joy was multiplied a hundred times. Jane could do anything, climb any mountain, face any giant. Her head was in clouds, and Jane was out of this world, flying past the silver, glowing moon on feathery white wings, soaring past brilliant galaxies and running tirelessly through an endless green field dotted with brilliantly-colored flowers.

Floor 12.

She needed to go there…why? You will come to Floor 12, purred a voice in her head. I will go to Floor 12, Jane thought resolutely. A rush of pleasure engulfed her—something delightful was waiting for her there.

Jane kicked her feet out of the mattress, hastily growing silent when the voice urgently whispered to her, Silence!

"Jane?" murmured Thor sleepily, rolling over and blinking his dark blue eyes. "Where are you going?" Jane was about to tell him, about the amazing surprise on Floor 12, when the voice softly uttered, Let it be a surprise, and tell him you're going to the bathroom. Thor loves surprises, right? Yes, Jane thought. Thor loves surprises. I'll surprise him.

"I need to go to the bathroom," Jane told him. Normally Jane was a horrible liar, but now she confidently looked him in the eye with honesty written all over her.

Thor looked worried. "Shall I come with you?"

He can't come to the restroom with you, silly! "You can't come to the restroom with me, silly!" half-giggled Jane, almost drunkenly. But Thor noticed nothing amiss. He mumbled something drowsily into the pillow, and rolled over and fell asleep again. Silently, Jane slipped out of the room.

Natasha's room.

There was something there, something important for the thing in Floor 12. What? It doesn't matter, it's a surprise, remember? Oh, right. A surprise, Jane remembered. She opened the door as quietly as she could. Natasha was still fast asleep.

Grab the bundle under her bed. Jane did so. It was average sized, slightly heavy but not too much. She padded quietly out of the room. I'm going to teleport you to Floor 12—get ready. How? wondered Jane dreamily. But it didn't matter. In a flash, she blinked, and Jane was standing on Floor 12.

—

Loki was pleased to say that went surprisingly easy.

Mind-controlling was a delicate art. Too much of a person's will forcing another could drive the person insane. Not enough would result in the victim breaking out, and severe mental damage would be cast on the mind-controller.

Loki's scepter had done the work with ease, suppressing the parts of someone's will rebellious to being controlled. The mind—to the scepter—was a lump of clay to be reshaped and formed as the user wished. Yet even without the scepter, Loki could control minds.

The trick to mind-controlling, Loki had learned a while ago, was not to force the will of a person, but to change it completely. The victim was not fighting against having his will forced, but his will itself was gone. The unfortunate person did not even know he was being controlled, instead, all he would feel was pure elation and a strong desire to follow his own will—while in actuality, it wasn't his own will at all. There was no struggle at all, and it was rather easier.

That was exactly what Loki did to Jane Foster.

Asgardians' wills—after being forged for centuries—were stubborn in most cases, and difficult to twist. But mortals' wills, ah, well, that was an entirely different story. They were much easier to bend in all sorts of directions.

Jane held out the black bundle, and Loki's eyes gleamed. There should be a gun in there, and there was.

Smiling in satisfaction, Loki made Jane turn around again to face him. Then, he released her mind, lips twitching at the thought of her reaction. He effortlessly threw the gun up and caught it again carelessly.

Jane blinked, as though someone who has been walking in the fog and was suddenly standing among clear air. Then realization dawned on her, and her dark eyes filled with unsuppressed fear as they fixed upon Loki's green ones, as brilliant and venomous as a deadly serpent. "Oh my god," she breathed. "Oh god."

"Did you call for me?" Loki asked politely, but allowed a trace of mocking to escape through his voice. Jane was gasping for breath, hand on her heart as she stared with wild eyes. She opened her mouth to scream, but with a flick of his wrist Loki stopped her easily. Jane attempted to strike him before poising to flee.

Stupid move, Loki observed calmly. He caught her wrist quickly, then twisted it sharply, eliciting a sharp cry from Thor's lover. "Damn you," cried Jane as tears of pain sprang to her eyes. "Damn you to the darkest corner of hell." Loki raised an eyebrow, observing her coolly.

He relaxed his fierce grip on her arm, but not before pulling her forward and wrapping his arms around her in a cruel embrace, her back pressed against his chest. Loki pressed the gun quickly to her forehead, and Jane whimpered, not bothering to escape. "What do you want with me?" she said softly, going limp as she faced in inevitable. "Just kill me now, and get it over with."

Loki chuckled. "Don't worry, pretty one," he told her. "I'm only killing you if Thor refuses to follow my demands…but I have a strong feeling he isn't going to watch his mortal woman's brains being blown out by his younger brother."

When Jane didn't reply, Loki continued in a nonchalant voice. "At least you got to understand what your friend Erik went through. It wasn't so bad, wasn't it?" His voice started off conversational, but it dropped until it was frosty and low. "Deep down inside," he hissed, "Isn't it what all you mortals want? To be dominated? The human race was made to be ruled. Why do you fight it? Why do you run from your destiny?"

"You're sick," Jane whispered vehemently in reply. Loki was taken aback at the spite and hatred in her voice. "So I've been told," he answered softly, gaze fogging over as distant memories were recalled.

He shook his head abruptly, voice clearing. "I wonder when your lover is coming?" he asked carelessly. Jane's body went rigid.

—

"Jeez, man," mumbled Tony hazily. "She's probably on her period or something. Just leave her be for a moment, Thor, and don't be so overprotective. Girls don't like that, you know?"

But Thor was adamant. "Just check for me, please, Son of Stark?" he pleaded. "Otherwise I will search every corner in this tower until I find her. She is not in the restroom, Tony, and she left half-an-hour ago!" Tony sighed, ruffling up his hair the wrong way, tousling it so it was as messy as possible.

"Whatever," he replied. "For you, Point Break."

"Thank you," said Thor, undoubtedly relieved, then jumped at the sound of someone standing behind him.

"Hey, Tasha," said Tony distractedly. "Goldilocks here wants to check on Jane."

Much to Thor's surprise, Natasha agreed with his decision. "There's something that doesn't feel right," she said uneasily, shifting anxiously from foot to foot. "I always sleep light, and the littlest sound wakes me up. And I always sleep with the door shut, and it creaks when it opens. But I woke up feeling slightly sick, and my door was wide open."

Tony frowned, now wide awake. "Are you saying someone drugged you?" he inquired, slightly annoyed. It was his home, after all, and his food that fed the Avengers.

Natasha shrugged noncommittally. "I'm not implying anything, Stark," she replied, face placid as it nearly always was. "I'm merely stating the facts. I'll leave you to make your assumptions." Tony's brow furrowed, but Thor softly tapped him on the shoulder. "The security cameras?" he prompted gently. Tony blinked.

"Right, right," he said, bustling past the two of them. He had Jarvis pull up the cameras all over Stark Tower. There was motion detected on Floor 12, and at the mention of that floor the trio stilled.

"Jarvis," said Tony in a strangled sort of voice, "Please pull up all the footage with motion detected from Level 12."

"Very well, sir," replied Jarvis, obediently flipping on to the live feed of Floor 12. At the sight of it, Tony punched the table fiercely, and Natasha fluently cursed in a mixture of English and Russian. But Thor—Thor didn't move at all. He just stood there blankly, staring at the screen that tore his world apart. He was falling, falling through an empty void that went on forever.

His brother leered at him through the camera, pressing a gun to Jane's forehead.

Chapter Text

"I want you all to give me free passage outside this tower," drawled Loki mockingly, green eyes alight with humor. It was the same look in his eyes he gave Thor when he would play one of his never-ending pranks on him. Yet this was much more deadly, and not at all like his brother. "I'll give you twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes to make your silly little plans before you eventually realize there's no way to escape out of your amusing predicament," Loki smirked lazily. "I know I'll kill myself if I kill this worthless mortal, but Thor, do you honestly think I care if I die?"

His long, slender fingers reached out and derisively stroked Jane's long, chocolate tresses. Jane froze, eyes large and frightened in her tight, drawn face. Thor's heart ached as he leaned over to the loudspeaker. "Loki," he tried. "What harm has she done you? Leave her be. Is giving up your life worth revenge?"

Loki smiled. "Oh," he replied smoothly without missing a beat, "Oh, but I don't think so, Thor. Will you really, will you really let me kill her, even if it is to save other lives from being killed by me?"

Loki knows me too well, though Thor bitterly. He'd always had a soft heart under all his arrogance and boisterous nature, and whenever Loki'd been the slightest bit injured, Thor would always go easy on him when they sparred. This went to Loki's advantage, who used it mercilessly and feigned pain at the lightest of Thor's punches. Deep down inside, Thor knew he would never allow Jane to be murdered, even if it meant standing up against the other Avengers.

Apparently Tony knew this too. He let out a sting of profanities, all of them directed at a greatly humored Loki. "I've called the other Avengers," he said dully, turning off the speaker as he faced Natasha and Thor. Natasha looked pale.

It wasn't long before the other Avengers trooped in, looking exhausted. Clint hung near the back, not meeting Tony's eyes, seemingly fascinated by an invisible spot on the floor. Tony must have sent the emergency signal, otherwise Thor doubted Clint would come. But Tony ignored him. "Tony, is something wrong?" asked Steve, rubbing at his eyes. "If it's because the new Sherlock episodes came on Netflix…"

Tony did not reply, but flipped up the recording of Loki's earlier statements, holding the gun to an unfortunate Jane's forehead. As Thor expected, more curses tumbled around them as the clip finished.

"Goddamn it!" swore Clint, forgetting his earlier pretense of acting invisible. Bruce was looking at Thor, a sorrowful, understanding look on his face. "What the hell are we going to do?" demanded Tony.

Thor had a feeling he knew what Natasha would say next, and he was right. Natasha hesitantly directed her next statement at him. "Thor," she began haltingly, "You know we can't let him go. He'll kill even more people if Loki's running around, loose. I vote to—to not let Loki go."

Thor just nodded in respect to Natasha's vote. "You, Tony?" he asked, addressing his question to Tony, knowing he'd be the easiest to convince.

As Tony looking into Thor's melting blue eyes, large and pleading like a puppy's, he felt his resolve begin to fade. "I—I," mumbled Tony. "I need to figure it out, ask Steve. He's the leader." But Thor wasn't willing to let this opportunity pass.

"What if it was Pepper, Tony?" he pleaded. "What if it was Pepper there?" At that moment, Tony knew Thor had him. It was one of his greatest flaws. Tony would sacrifice the world to save his friends, and he knew he just couldn't let Jane die there. If Pepper died…Tony would be ruined. Forever. But Thor would live longer than his own meager 80 years, and he would keep on living in grief, grasping at what little memories he'd made with Jane.

"I'm sorry, Tasha," Tony said, feeling his eyes fill. "I'm really sorry, but I can't." He squared his shoulders, meeting Thor in the eye. "I vote to let Loki go." Thor nodded slightly, thankfulness etched over his features. "Steve?" Thor asked gently, not pushing but letting the Captain make his own decision.

Steve didn't answer for a moment. "I'm selfish, Thor," he said finally. "I don't know Jane all that well, and most of me wants to let Loki just kill himself, with Jane along with him. But I think—I just think, if that was Peggy out there, I wouldn't hesitate. I never got much time with her, and I won't deny you time with Jane, too." His composure was beginning to crumble, and his voice grew choked. "I vote to let Loki go."

"Bruce?" Thor prompted. The doctor wouldn't meet Thor's eyes. "I'm sorry, Thor," he said softly. "But I've seen what Loki can do. It took the Other Guy and a nuke to finally overpower him and his army. I vote to not let Loki go. Even if it were Betty…I'm sorry, Thor, I just can't let innocent people get killed for some guy's amusement." Thor's gaze saddened, but he nodded.

Tony did the math. Thor, Steve and himself voted for letting Loki have his way, and Natasha and Bruce voted for allowing Loki to kill himself and Jane along with him. If Clint voted with Natasha and Bruce…it'll be a tie. What happens then? wondered Tony. But he said nothing.

Clint looked torn. "Innocents will be killed," he started half-heartedly, then after a look at Thor's puppy-dog face, he swore. "Damn it, Thor!" he said, turning to Tony. "I owe you one," he told Tony. "I owe Pepper one, and goddamnit, I even owe Loki one." He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "I don't want to owe you one either, Thor," he admitted. "I was almost responsible for killing Pepper. I don't want to kill Jane, either."

"Anyway," Clint added as if to make up for his meaningful words earlier, "It's either a dead Loki, a dead Jane, and a depressed Thor, or an alive Loki, an alive Jane, and a happy Thor. Thor can pretty much handle Loki, I'm sure, and so can we if he doesn't have an army to back him up. We may as well pick the second of the crappy doors of death."

Before he could finish speaking, however, Thor enveloped him in a bear hug. Clint patted him awkwardly on the back, before swearing for the third time as a brilliant flash of light filled the room.

"Greetings, heroes," said a gentle, female voice. "I apologize if I have intruded, yet I am here to help you stop Loki."

Chapter Text

"It's probably a crazed fangirl come to steal my boxers," Tony said dismissively. "Although I can't say that's the first—holy shit." Bruce snorted softly despite the anxiety in his dark eyes. "Some fangirl," he muttered under his breath.

A tall, magnificent-looking lady with a tall, majestic posture stood gracefully before them. She was remarkably beautiful, dressed in an extravagant blue dress fit for a queen. Her rich, honey-gold hair, streaked with warm, reddish hues, was gathered up in an elaborate hairdo. Dewy blue eyes were sparkling in the light, yet the attractive lady did not seem on the offensive. Despite this fact, Natasha was already fondling the handle of her gun.

Tony narrowed his eyes. There was something about her…Tony felt as though he knew her from another lifetime, as if he'd seen her, yet Tony felt sure he would remember crossing paths with this regal lady.

"Excuse me, ma'am," asked Steve, allowing a trace of politeness mingled to escape through his voice, yet evenly mingled with thinly veiled threat. "But I must ask you what you're doing here."

But the lady wasn't even sparing him a glance. Her deep, sapphire-blue eyes were locked onto something, or someone, else. Tony swiveled his head slightly in order to see the object of her interest, yet not too much so as to take his eyes off of the newcomer.

She was staring at Thor…and Thor was staring back. Tony studied his reaction. Thor seemed surprised, but undoubtedly very delighted and pleased. An Asgardian? Tony guessed, raising an eyebrow at Steve to show he was just as confused as the Captain was.

"Mother?" Thor ventured. Tony froze. Mother?

But Tony could see it now—the same vibrant, blue eyes, same rich, gold hair, and the same strong jaw with the same proud posture. Yet it was hard to think of the mighty Thor as a son, and even harder to realize he had a mother, one who loved him and read stories to him before bedtime and comforted him when he got nightmares. Did Thor even get nightmares?

Thor took a step forward, but his mother was already, gracefully sweeping across the room and gathering up all of Thor in a warm embrace. Thor returned it gladly, but they soon stepped back. Tony cleared his throat.

"So, I'm guessing you've met," Tony said wryly, and Thor hastened to explain. "Avengers, this is my mother, Queen Frigga of Asgard. Mother, these are the mortal who helped protect New York from Lo—The Chitauri," Thor amended hastily, and with a jolt, Tony realized that this lady, Lady Frigga, was Loki's mother too. Hard as it was to imagine Thor as a young child, it was far more difficult to imagine the cold, caustic Loki as as a boy, just as in need of comfort and love as anybody else.

Frigga's gaze became dark with sorrow. "I apologize for any distress Loki may have caused you," she said. Tony almost snorted at the word 'distress.' Well, that was a huge understatement. Frigga went on. "I am here because Heimdall, out gatekeeper, informed me of the situation here."

"Do you know how to stop Loki?" asked Steve, stepping forward. Frigga looked him squarely in the eye. "Yes," she replied. "He is my son." Steve nodded, and before further conversation can go on, Frigga turned and left the room, skirts whirling behind her.

Thor did not follow her, on the other hand, he seemed very relaxed. "Mother will know what to do," he said confidently. "She works magic, and most of what Loki knows has been taught by her." Tony shook his head in disbelief. "Does she even know where Loki is?"

"A mother knows all, Stark," said Natasha, fingers flying over the keypad as she busily pulled up the security tabs on Floor 12. "Come on now, let's watch the show. We'll interfere if things get messy."

—

"I'm surprised Thor hasn't come to save his darling damsel in distress," Loki mocked. Jane didn't reply, but her dark eyes kept searching for any hope of escape. Her ears perked up as the sound of footsteps. Loki laughed out loud.

"Ah, so the mortal heroes have sent their ambassador," he called out derisively. "Is it the spider, come to make me stumble over me words again? Thank you for your cooperation, yes, Agent Romanoff, I still remember. Or will it be the Man of Iron? I quote your words back to you, Stark. You may not be able to save this little mortal, but how are you planning to avenge her? Or is it the Doctor, with your green beast?"

"No," replied a cool, fresh voice. "It is I, Frigga of Asgard."

Loki froze, green eyes beginning to widen before he hastily pulled on his mask of indifference. "Oh yes, the Queen of Asgard," he purred vehemently. "I nearly forgot about Heimdall's golden eyeballs, and of course you'd come rushing to the rescue."

"Loki," answered Frigga. "Drop the weapon, child. Are you really going to fight me? Your mother?"

Loki laughed without humor. "Sentiment," he hissed, and Jane shuddered. "The same thing that nearly got your precious, golden son killed."

Frigga calmly arched an eyebrow. "Well, thank heavens you're all right now, Loki."

Loki's smile vanished, and he scowled at her. "So, even now, when I have betrayed all of Asgard, you would still call me son?" he spat out, green eyes bright with fury. "When I have slaughtered mortals, and even though I am not even of your blood, I am still your son?"

"Blood matters little, Loki," Frigga said evenly, answering with her own series of questions. "Did I not raise you as a helpless babe? Did I not care for you, and teach you? Did you not run to my bed in the middle of the night after a bad dream? Did you not—"

"Enough!" roared Loki suddenly, and Jane let out a shriek of terror, knees buckling underneath her. Loki jerked her back up roughly, digging the gun tightly into her head. Frigga smiled wearily at him.

"I am here, Loki," she said, rich blue eyes filled with grief. "I am here before you, defenseless. Kill me now, Loki."

"And I very well will!" screamed Loki in a rage. "Do you expect sentiment? Do you expect to to run sobbing to your feet and hide my face in your skirts?" Frigga smiled faintly again. "Why do you not kill me, Loki?" she asked tiredly. "The most logical decision for you right now is to take that gun, kill me, and then teleport yourself somewhere else. Why do you not do this?"

Face flushed with rage, Loki slid the knife hidden up his sleeve, and aimed it directly at Frigga. Although he was shaking everywhere else, Loki's grip on the knife was steady.

Then he threw it.

The knife sliced through the air easily, expertly sailing across the room. Jane shrieked in fear.

Yet the knife did not touch the Queen of Asgard. It skimmed lightly against her ear, barely missing it as the knife forcefully embedded itself into the wall beside her. Frigga did not flinch. "You were lucky this time…" Loki began, but Frigga's form flickered, as did Jane's.

Suddenly, it was Frigga standing next to him, and Jane was nowhere to be seen. The gun was nowhere to be seen. Loki let out an exclamation of alarm. "I know my son's skills," Frigga murmured. "And he does not miss easily."

"You—" But Frigga interrupted yet again. "You knew, Loki," she said softly but firmly. "You knew that was only a projection of me standing in front of the wall. You knew that I had Jane ready to teleport at the slightest millisecond. You knew I was next to you, too."

"You know nothing!" cried Loki furiously.

"You could have escaped, and easily," said Frigga, more forcefully this time. "You could have killed me. I am not a mortal, therefore you would have been spared. You have enough energy to teleport somewhere far. But you couldn't, could you Loki? You couldn't kill me, your mother."

"Shut the hell up!" hollered Loki, yet he did not strike. Frigga's eyes looked fatigued. "Why does this bother you so much, Loki?" she asked gently. "You are a liar, Loki. It is not lies that liars mind, is it? It's the truth that's hard to face. Liars can handle lies. But truth…that is a different matter."

Loki was shaking feverishly now. "No," he repeated over to himself. "No, no, no…" Frigga waved a hand lightly. "Sleep, my son," she whispered. "Sleep."

His green eyes widened momentarily, then he stumbled. Frigga caught him, and Loki exhaled slowly, eyes closing as he drifted off in slumber.

Chapter Text

"Where's my science buddy?" demanded Tony, twirling around in his chair. He needed somebody, anybody, for God's sake, to talk to. Because talking would stop him from drifting into deeper thoughts. Tony tried to push away thoughts of the video clip he'd just watched, of Loki and Frigga, yet he couldn't.

This was the last thing Tony wanted, to end up feeling sorry for Loki. Or to understand him, even.

Frigga had left a while earlier, after she'd waited for Loki to wake up. But when he remained asleep, Frigga had paced around the room, before reluctantly declaring she had to leave. Steve had asked why Loki had magic on his person in the first place. "I know not," Frigga had replied. "I believe it was my husband's doing, for such a thing would not have escaped his notice. No, I cannot remove remove Loki's unbound magic. I cannot even tamper with it. My husband is more powerful than I, and only he can."

In response to the next, anticipated question by Steve, the Queen had said, "My husband would remove it, I believe. Yet currently he has fallen into the Odin-sleep, much like a coma in your Midgardian terms. The burden of the throne has fallen to me, and I know not when he will wake." She had turned to Thor.

"Thor," she had said, "I would have you return to Asgard to attend to your duties as the Crown Prince, but I want you here to keep an eye on your brother." Instantaneously, several voices had chimed in indignantly. "Surely he isn't staying?" Natasha had asked in disbelief. Frigga had serenely requested, and much to the Avengers' shame, even begged them to keep Loki. "The Chitauri forces are still strong," she'd admitted. "Do you not have a cell, of some sort to hold him?"

After further conversation, Frigga had left. Then it was the Avengers' turn to argue. Tony still had refused to notify SHIELD, and they all negotiated on keeping him in a strong, cell-like room in Tony's basement. He had promised to install security cameras everywhere, and the whole area was incased in solid, thick, bullet-proof glass-like material, clear yet strong.

Then they'd argued on when they should put them there. Bruce didn't want him there immediately, yet when confronted on why, he'd closed up, saying it was merely a doctor's concern for the patient. Though Thor had defended him, the two of them were overruled, and after a few more minutes of Bruce checking up on him, Loki had been moved.

Tony remembered all this in a flash, then was shaken out of his thoughts by Jarvis. "He is currently in a room with Thor, and the two of them are in a conversation. Shall I pull up the security footage?" inquired Jarvis. Tony waved a hand. Anything to distract him.

"Sure, sure," the billionaire said tiredly. He'll see if this was a conversation he could intrude on and ask Bruce to come over.

—

"You wanted to see me?" Thor asked formally, stepping into the small, enclosed room. Bruce was already there, standing in the middle of the room, yet he couldn't look Thor in the eye.

"Bruce?" Thor prompted gently, and the doctor blinked suddenly. "Oh, right," he said, shaking his head lightly. "I have…something to tell you," Bruce finished lamely. He exhaled suddenly. "This is the part I hate about being a doctor," he mumbled. Thor frowned. "What do you hate about being a doctor?" he inquired.

Bruce finally looked up, meeting Thor straight in the eye. "Breaking the bad news to the relatives," he said, not bothering to hide the truth. Thor tensed. "Is—is it about—Loki?" he said finally. Bruce grimaced.

"I really didn't want to tell this to you at all," replied Bruce, feeling ashamed as he looked at Thor's large, vibrant blue eyes. "But you have the right to know. I'm not sure if you'd like everyone else to know, so I'll leave that up to you."

"Do not spare me, Bruce," Thor said. "Tell me everything."

So, swallowing his guilt, Bruce did.

"Loki has been assaulted," said Bruce as quickly as possible. As though it would take the sting of the words away. But painfully, Thor didn't get it. "I know he has," said Thor acutely, but Bruce shook his head. "You don't understand," said Bruce, wishing he was anywhere but where he was now. "Not physically….sexually."

Thor just stared at Bruce in slight confusion, before the truth sunk it and the horror gleamed in Thor's eyes. "You mean," Thor strangled out, "You mean, he was been…"

"Yes," said Bruce as compassionately as possible. It was a horrible thing, a terrible thing for a person to experience. Thor was just staring at the ground, a mixture of emotions so tumultuous on his face it was impossible to read. Damnit Thor, say something, just speak!

"You are certain?" said Thor after an eternity's pause. "Yes," said Bruce yet again, the look on Thor's face breaking his heart. "There are…signs, and from things he's been muttering in his sleep, I pieced it together." He sighed wearily. "But that's not everything. I—I've been examining Loki very closely, Thor."

The mighty god of thunder stood mutely before Bruce, blue eyes wide and beseeching. "Please tell me, Bruce," he insisted. "I must know."

Bruce ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. "From what I got out of your mom," he said, "Loki's magic heals him, correct?" Thor nodded.

"But now that it's bound," Bruce went on reluctantly, "It doesn't heal him all that much, except for that little part that's free. But because he was using it so carelessly before, now there's barely anything healing him." He swallowed. "Clint's arrow hit him at an old injury, and from what I can decipher, the old wound must have been poisoned. It wasn't that big for him, because his magic was working at it just fine. But now he has barely any left, and the poison is in his system."

"What are you saying?" Thor said after a moment hopelessly, as though he knew what was coming and was readying himself for the blow.

Bruce closed his eyes and pressed the palm of his hand to his forehead. "Loki's dying, Thor," he said, after a moment. "The poison's slow-working, so I'll say he's got a couple of months. But he's going to die. And the only way to save him is to get him his magic back."

—

Tony stared numbly at the screen, mind not processing what he was hearing as conflicting emotions surged across his face.

Loki was going to die.

Tony didn't know why he cared so much. This was the guy who mercilessly killed eighty people in two days—but he was also the guy who took an arrow for someone he'd never met before. True, it may be for selfish reasons, yet it was the reason why he was dying now. Loki had basically been handed a Get Out Of Jail Free card when he could kill his mother and escape, yet he hadn't taken it. Not killing your mom wasn't something to boast about, but rules were different when it came to super villains.

He didn't even like Loki. Tony hated Loki, in fact, he almost detested him. Somehow, that made the news all the worse. It would certainly save the Avengers a huge amount of trouble with him dead…but Thor. Loki and Thor were brothers. They'd grown up together, learned together, and fought together. The bonds of brotherhood were hard to break.

And he'd been fucking raped. It was difficult to see Loki at the mercy of another, yet Tony understood being tortured after his time in Afghanistan. Yet it was probably worse for Loki, though, Tony realized. His magic and strength made him able to endure more.

Tony wasn't sure what he was going to do. Talk to Loki, maybe? Talk to Thor? Talk to Pepper? Pepper always was sympathetic, a good listener, and she understood him. Maybe she'd help get rid of the huge ball of guilt pooling in his stomach.

But she was at a meeting—he'd have to wait. Sighing, he pulled up the security footage of Loki's new room. He raised an eyebrow in surprise as he realized Loki was no longer asleep.

—

Loki blinked blearily. He was no longer in the room he was in before, and that was no surprise. He was lying in a cot, in the middle of a room encased in glass. He was still in Stark Tower, he guessed.

He planned to gracefully throw his feet onto the ground and land lightly, yet his wounded arm rubbed painfully against the sheets. Loki's face screwed up in a wince, cursing fluently in Elvish at the ribbons of pain exploding everywhere. He bit back a cry of pain, fingernails digging into the sheet as he hissed through his teeth.

He realized instantly that whoever was on the camera was watching, and no doubt enjoying, his moment of weakness. Scowling at the camera pointed at him, he pulled up a touch of glamor over his face, and over all of him.

Loki finally decided that it was far too much work to attempt getting out of bed, and he just stayed in his bed. Loki wasn't entirely sure what to do, so he called out to Stark's invisible servant.

"Jarvis?" he tried, as he'd seen the other Avengers. There was a moment's pause, then a hesitant reply. "Yes, sir?" said the automated voice. Loki was sure Stark was watching him and monitoring what Jarvis was saying, and the trickster knew there was no point in asking Jarvis for information.

"Do you have movies?" Loki asked finally. He could almost sense Jarvis' surprise, and his lips' twitched. He had heard of these movies before, and it was worth a try. It seemed better than sitting around doing nothing, anyway.

"Yes," answered Jarvis hesitantly. "What would you like to watch?" Loki waved him off with just a touch of arrogance, thankful that the glamor over his face hid the painful wince. "Anything interesting," he ordered.

Another pause. Then, Jarvis pulled up something that he announced was called Sherlock, and turned on the first episode, A Study in Pink.

Much to Loki's surprise, it wasn't half bad. He admired the cold yet intelligent Sherlock Holmes and his sarcastic remarks. His remarkable brilliance seemed slightly difficult to believe, yet Loki found him a complex, interesting character. The plot wasn't amazing, however—it was fairly obvious the cab-driver was the serial killer. To him, at least.

Loki watched the entire, 88 minute episode in one shot, and without comment Jarvis played the second episode. He wasn't disappointed…Loki was impressed and slightly envious of the way Sherlock easily deduced information about each person. Although he thought long and hard, Loki couldn't decipher everything Sherlock could. Though he ran pretty damn close.

The third episode, Loki declared to himself, was pure genius. Each intricate, complicated mystery was amazing, and because he simply couldn't leave them standing by the pool with the plot hanging, he had the next one played. The fourth was decent enough, but Loki felt himself dislike Irene Adler, and felt a twinge of mean gladness when Sherlock outsmarted her at the end.

He was about to start the fifth one when he felt somebody come down the stairs that led to his little room. Or more accurately, his cell. Instantly, Loki was out of bed as gracefully as he could. He wasn't going to seem like an invalid when speaking to someone.

That was when he realized what he was wearing—Iron Man pjs, complete with thick Hulk socks. Cursing the stupidity of mortals, and Stark in particular, Loki wracked his brain on what to do. After further examination, he figured out the visitor was Virginia Potts.

Loki wanted to pull on an illusion of himself in full armor, helmet and all, but decided against it. Not willing to appear in the humiliating garb he was dressed in, Loki passed another illusion over himself, dressing himself in a simple, oak-green tunic bound with a black leather belt, complete with black pants and comfortable leather boots. He arranged his hair neatly, before pulling up a chair and sitting down by the wall, waiting for Pepper Potts.

—

Pepper wasn't entirely sure why she was coming down here. To offer thanks, maybe? He'd saved her life, and though it were likely for selfish reasons, that did not fade out the cold, hard truth. If it hadn't been for Loki, Pepper wouldn't be standing here right now.

She'd listened with mixed emotions as Tony told her Loki was dying. It was clear Loki himself was unaware, and Tony wanted her to keep it that way. Somehow, Pepper had felt guilty too. If it hadn't been for Loki running in front of the arrow headed towards her, Loki wouldn't be dying now. Clint's arrow messed up the old injury. Just like Tony had said, the fact that she despised Loki only fueled her guilt.

He was already waiting for her, but how he knew, she did not know. Pepper didn't ponder it, instead, she just pulled out a chair that was pushed into a little desk, seating herself comfortably on it before turning to Loki.

He was not dressed in the ridiculous pjs that he'd been in before, now, Loki was wearing a dark green tunic with black pants. Most likely an illusion, Pepper guessed, because the style was unlike any fashion she'd ever seen before.

Without his helmet and thick layers of metal and leather, Loki looked astonishingly small. He was very tall, yes, but he was also remarkably slender of frame, with a graceful, agileness in his movements. Pepper had never bothered to study his face during their last meeting out of fear and shock—but now she did.

His features were sharp, yet had a boyish softness to them that made Pepper feel as though she were standing before somebody else, not Loki. Yet Loki he was. Pepper was not blind, and she could see he was handsome, yet not in the bold, sunny way Thor was. His raven-black hair, smoothed back, contrasted sharply with the pale pallor of his skin, and his vivid green eyes glowed with an unnatural gleam.

"Potts," Loki said finally, eyes scanning her thoroughly. But Pepper waved him off. "Pepper, or Virginia, if you must," she said. "Don't call me Potts though, nobody's called me that since college."

"Pepper, then," said the trickster slightly reluctantly. Pepper met his emerald gaze and nodded her head in affirmative. "That's me," she agreed. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, unsure of what to say.

"How were the Sherlock episodes?" she inquired after an awkward moment's pause. Loki shrugged, swirling green eyes not leaving hers. "They were surprisingly good," he admitted. "I rather liked them." Pepper smiled half-fondly. "Tony loves those," she told him. "But he has no patience at all for the stories. I've read a couple, myself. They were actually pretty good."

Loki did not react, but Pepper got the impression he felt curious about them. She made a mental note to order them. Another heavy silence followed.

"How did you sleep?" she asked in a vain attempt to start conversation. What does one say to a mass murderer, though?

Loki eyed her warily in response. "Laying down."

Pepper snorted. "I'm guess you don't want me to ask in that direction," she said dryly, but she began to think. Pepper had forgotten that Loki could only speak the truth, and she could only imagine how awful that must be. Even more so for the god of lies.

"How did you like the new, er, room?" Pepper tried again. Loki narrowed his eyes. "The sheets are scratchy," he answered finally. Pepper frowned slightly. "Uh, other than the scratchy sheets?" she asked. Loki shot her a glare that may have meant to be intimidating, but Pepper was only mildly amused. "It is not bad," said Loki flatly.

"How are you feeling?" she asked. Loki just kept staring. "Hungry," he answered promptly. "Your Midgardian fare is nothing compared to the food back on Asgard."

"Oh?" asked Pepper politely. "What do you want to eat, then?"

"Potatoes," answered Loki firmly. "Good, mashed potatoes. With toast. And jam. And good meat." Pepper nodded. Another silence.

"Why are you here?" asked Loki. What does Pepper say? "I'm not entirely sure," she answered honestly. "Maybe obligation." She sighed. "I have a meeting now, anyway."

Loki shrugged. "Goodbye."

Pepper rose, turning to leave. "Bye," she replied. And then she was gone.

—

The next morning, Loki woke drowsily. He sat up gingerly, careful not to disturb his injured arm. Then, he arched an eyebrow.

Next to his bed, on a silver cart, was a steaming plate of hot, buttered toast with a pot of jelly, a bowl of some sort of meat drenched in gravy, and fluffy mashed potatoes. His gaze went down to a new, folded set of warm, royal blue comforters. Despite himself, Loki smiled.

Yet that was not all. There was a brown, cardboard box by him, too. Curiously, Loki pried it open.

There was a thick novel on the top, entitled with The Complete, Illustrated Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. Underneath it was a set of clothes, perfectly identical to the ones he'd illusion-ed over himself.

On the top was a sticky note, sprawled with From, Pepper.

Chapter Text

What was that sound?

Clint frowned, slowing in his tracks. Then unease sank in as he realized what the sound was.

It was the sound of crying. Or more specifically, a female crying.

If there was one thing Clint Barton could not handle, it was sobbing females. That was one thing he liked so much about Natasha—she scarcely cried, and when she was in distress, Clint knew exactly how to handle her. On the rare occasion she did cry, all Clint had to do was to sit next to her and just be there for her, the two of them in companionable silence.

Yet Clint's conscience wouldn't allow him to leave the unfortunate girl crying. It wasn't Natasha for sure, so that left Jane or Pepper.

He paused outside the room the crying seemed loudest from. The door was closed, and his hand paused hesitantly above the doorknob. To do, or not to do? Clint almost snorted. You know you were confused when you started spouting out Shakespeare.

If he thought about it too much, Clint knew he would talk himself out of entering the room. So before he could give the matter much consideration, he turned the knob and stepped resolutely into the room, bracing himself.

It was Jane.

Her eyes were red-rimmed and glistening with unshed tears, the faint light in the room reflecting the old tear tracks on her cheeks that she hadn't bothered to wipe away. Jane hadn't seemed to notice him, and Clint thanked God for that.

Why was she crying? If it was some trouble with her love life with Thor, then Clint had no help to offer. He'd best better duck out of the room. But on the other hand, Thor had seemed perfectly normal with her earlier, so scratch that option.

The most likely option was that Jane was still traumatized over the experience with Loki. Clint was about to disappear, because he certainly wasn't in the mood for rubbing circles into Jane's back and sympathizing with her. What she'd gone through had been nothing compared to him. He'd had his fucking mind taken over.

But how had Loki managed to get her over to where he was? Clint had naturally assumed he'd teleported her, but what if there had been something more to the story?

Anyway, it was too late to turn to his heels and flee. Jane had sensed someone behind her, and had turned her head slightly. She jerked slightly in surprise when she saw him. Clint felt guilty, although he wasn't sure why.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, twisting his hands awkwardly, "I—uh, didn't mean to intrude. I just heard crying and…are you all right?"

"It's all right," Jane said, wiping her face with the back of her hands. "It's just that..you were the exact person I wanted to talk to."

Clint was taken aback. He'd never spoken much to Jane, aside from a few courteous words of greeting. "Uh, how so?" he asked weakly.

Jane looked him straight in the eye, then gestured to the seat next to her. After hesitating for a moment, Clint cautiously settled himself next to her.

"It may be kind of silly," Jane admitted. "But Thor doesn't really understand what I've gone through, and I thought maybe you would. You were mind-controlled by him too, right?" Clint froze, blinking at her. She brought up the most agonizing time period in his life so flippantly, but then, as Clint considered her words, he frowned at the word too.

"What do you mean?" he asked, staring at her. "You mean you were too?" Jane nodded, looking slightly surprised. "I thought everyone knew," she said. "But yeah, I guess I was." Clint just kept staring at her stupidly, a bewildered look on his face.

"But his scepter…" his voice trailed off, but Jane interjected. "He did it with his own mind, apparently," she explained, dabbing at her eyes with a crumpled tissue in her hands. "I honestly don't care how he did it. Thor's sweet and all, but you know, he just doesn't understand the feeling of having your mind being remade. Do you know what I mean?"

Clint was at a loss for words. "Yes," he managed, forcing back the distant, haunting memories from his mind. "Better than you think I know."

Silence reigned for a few minutes, before Jane spoke again. "It's a horrible feeling," she said. Her frame was small and petite, and she had to crane her neck to look at him. Absently, Clint wondered how hard it'd be to reach Thor—he was practically a giant. Jane was quiet for a moment. "It's a horrible feeling," she repeated. "You can't even fight it. It's like you're yourself, you want to follow your own will, except…"

"…your will has changed," Clint completed dully. He exhaled. "I killed people," he sighed. "I'd even spoken with a few of them. I knew those people, Jane."

The silent, deadly arrow, freed with uncanny accuracy, cut through the air with ease. The moment the arrow was released, Clint knew it would hit true. The man turned slightly, confusion etched over his features. But he was too late. The arrow landed with a soft thump directly at his heart.

He moaned softly, digging his hands into his scalp. Jane was gazing at him out of large, dark eyes. "I'm sorry," she said hastily. "You don't have to…"

Clint shook his head. "You don't know how good it feels to get it out," he said. After spending hours of murmuring his troubles to Laura and Natasha, he got the impression they were tired of repeating, It's not your fault, Clint. You had no control.

His eyes began to sting. "Everyone says it's not my fault," he said, words stumbling over each other. "They say I didn't know what I was doing, but I did, Jane. It was all me in there. I was doing what I wanted to do."

Jane's hand was on his arm comfortingly. "No, Clint," she said quietly. "You were doing what Loki wanted. I see that now. Yet deep down, it is you doing what Loki wants, that's what makes it so terrible. If you knew that you could at least fight it, it makes everything different. But you can't."

Her voice came out faster. "If he told me to kill Thor right then and there," she said, voice shaking slightly, "I believe I would have. Without hesitation. And it scares me, because what if—what if he'd told me to do that…I'd never be able to live with myself."

"I fought Natasha," said Clint. "She got the better of me, though," he laughed wryly, "And boy, that's probably the first time I'm glad she did. But if she'd made the smallest mistake…she wouldn't be here right now. And I don't think I would either."

Jane wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but she chose to ignore it. Instead, she squeezed his arm. "But she is, Clint," she murmured. "And so is Thor. If we keep worrying about what if, then we'd never worry about what will."

"I know," said Clint, blinking away the sudden pricking in his eyes, and Jane reached over and embraced him.

—

The moment he opened his eyes, Loki knew he was dreaming. Well, not precisely a dream, more of a message. From the last person he wanted a message from.

Thanos.

"Greetings, my little general," boomed the all-too familiar voice that sent shivers up Loki's spine. He tensed, but Thanos was nowhere to be seen. Everything was blurry, and though Loki could feel the solid ground underneath him, he could not see it.

"Thanos," he answered coolly, not allowing a trace of fear to escape through his voice. He was stronger than this. He was Loki, for God's sake! He shouldn't be trembling before anybody.

"So here's where you are hiding," rumbled the Titan's voice. He scoffed. "Behind mortals, of all people! Laufeyson, I thought you were better than this."

Loki stiffened at the name of his real surname. He felt the urge to say, "I'm not hiding!" in protest, but banished those words from his mind. Why did he always go on defensive when speaking to Thanos? Because he felt like a child before the Titan, that's why. Memories resurfaced of what Thanos had done to him, and Loki banished them as well.

"Well, they're keeping you out, at any rate," Loki said mockingly. Yet he had no upper hand with Thanos. Thanos had seen him at his worst, screaming and begging for mercy as he was nearly torn apart from the inside out, as his burned raw, bloody back rubbed the ground, writhing in pain while the Titan had pushed all of him into…

Loki cursed as he felt himself being drawn back to the past, every little detail appearing far too vividly in his mind. The Chitauri cheering, Thanos laughing, and the screaming, so much screaming….

Thanos. Thanos was doing this to him, forcing him to recall past memories. Loki gritted his teeth as he drew to mind the only images that expelled these horrible flashbacks, memories of Frigga, honey-gold hair falling behind her in a shower of ringlets, frame outlined in a halo of light.

Thanos laughed at him. "Do you think they will keep me out for long?" he gloated. "The only way the puny mortals will survive is if they hand you over to me."

He hasn't given up on me, thought Loki in horror. He still wants me.

Loki would rather die than be back with Thanos. for Hela would at the very least leave him be and he doubted she would conduct fearsome tortures for him as she did to others.. Yet Thanos would make every living moment pure hell, until Loki would curse the very day he was every born. Thanos would never allow him to be killed, however. "

I doubt Thor will give up his precious little brother to be handed over to you," Loki said lightly, despite how the very idea filled him with horror.

"Then I will come," said Thanos. "And when I come, I will come with destruction and death. I will slaughter the mortals, everything living on the cursed realm. Everything but you, Laufeyson. Oh, I have something very special planned for my favorite little general."

Then everything faded to black, and Loki woke up.

—

Loki forced himself to relax, calming his throbbing pulse and the frantic beating of his heart hammering against his ribcage. There was no way the mortals would sacrifice him for the lives of everyone on their planet, Loki realized in horror. They would turn him over, and gladly. He needed to keep Thanos from contacting them, he thought.

His glass room was lit up with the electrical lights, and Loki guessed it was daytime. He slipped out of bed. The previous day, the day after Pepper's visit, had been ordinary enough. This morning, he found another change of the same green tunic outfit, and Loki hastily changed.

After smoothing it out and eating the light breakfast that someone had put by his bedside, Loki stood up and stretched. Then he flopped onto the bed again, with nothing better to do. The Sherlock Holmes mysteries were surprisingly interesting as well, and so were the episodes. Yet one got tired of reading and watching television all day.

He lay on his bad, staring up at the ceiling as he relaxed, closing his eyes. Loki let his senses wander as he'd done before, until he could feel the presence of nearly all the Avengers. Could I listen in on their conversations? wondered Loki. If he could, that would be….very good.

He couldn't listen to all the conversations going on, Loki discovered, much to his disappointment. But if he pinpointed on a small group, and if they weren't speaking in whispers, Loki could discover what they were saying. A mischievous smile touched his lips.

Who should he listen on? Thor and Jane were in a room, doing whatever lovers do. Loki wasn't exactly anxious to know what was going on there, so he drifted his attention over to other placed. Pepper and Tony were in deep conversation, and he was about to ignore them as well, until he heard his name.

He directed his full concentration on them, curiosity effectively kindled. "I still can't believe it," Pepper was saying. "Are you sure there's no way to save him?" Tony seemed to be shaking his head. "I know how you feel, Pep," he said, sighing. "I feel like I owe the guy, but now he's dying."

"It's not your fault," said Pepper, rubbing his arm. Loki tensed. Dying?

"And he's been raped, too," Tony said. "It just keeps nagging me, and I want to feel proud, 'cause damnit, we won!" his voice grew louder. "I just don't know, Pepper."

Pepper said something in reply, but Loki wasn't listening. He suddenly couldn't breathe anymore, as though somebody cut off his air supply.

How did they know? Loki thought furiously, fingers curling into the sheets under him. He racked his brain, until he remembered the looks Dr. Banner had given him after he had checked him up. What would the doctor do? He frantically thought. He was kindly, from what Loki made out of him. He wouldn't announce everything to the other mortals.

Thor! Loki realized. Of course Bruce would tell Thor. And Stark must have listened in somehow, it was his security cameras all over the place. And he would have told Pepper.

Though he didn't want to admit it, Loki knew the second fact they knew about him wasn't going to hurt him all that much physically, it was just a terrible blow to his pride. Yet the fact that he was dying needed far more attention.

He now concentrated on himself, his inner organs, his heart, and every part of his body. He pinpointed in attention on the arrow wound, and hissed at what he discovered.

His magic wasn't working very well, Loki discovered in horror. The glancing injury he'd gotten by a poisoned Chitauri blade hadn't bothered him that much, because his full magic worked at top speed to heal it. Yet the cursed arrow of Barton's had slashed right at that spot, reopening the wound. He'd known that, yet all that magic-using hadn't been good for it.

The mortals were right, thought Loki with a dull sort of acceptance. I'm dying, and there's no way to stop it. Unless, of course, I get my magic back. Yet Loki knew his chances of that were slim.

Loki didn't know how he felt about that. Back on the Bifrost, he knew he was going to die the moment he began taunting Thor. When he'd let go, did he know he would survive? No. Loki was sure he was heading to his death. Was he suicidal? Loki had no idea.

He didn't let go due to fear of his punishment—Loki could handle whatever tortures Odin could conjure up. Perhaps it was to show them all he wasn't just that dark-haired, quiet, studious prince lingering in Thor's shadow, who did not revel in the glory of battle as most Asgardian men did but preferred devouring books in the library. Or maybe it was because he was just tired of living. Loki never feared death as others did.

There was no way he was getting into Valhalla, he knew with a bitter smile. He was going to die, yet before he did Loki had every intent to make as much mischief as possible.

—

"You got this, Natasha," Steve said comfortingly, clapping a hand to her shoulder. "I mean, you interrogated him when he could say whatever he wanted, and now, Loki can only speak the truth. How hard can it be?"

Harder than you think, thought Natasha, forcing a smile to her face. "Thanks, Steve," she said warmly, wrapping her large jacket tighter around herself. "I'd best get going now."

Steve nodded, stepping back. "Good luck, Natasha," he said. "I'll be watching, okay?"

"Sure," answered Natasha.

—

Ah, so they're sending the Widow to interrogate me. Loki was humored, wondering what tactic she'd use. Well, he'd better make himself presentable.

He smoothed his hair back neatly, before dusting off his tunic lightly. She was getting closer.

"I can't expect to sneak up on you a second time," said a cool, female voice behind him. Loki turned halfway, smirking slightly. "Well, one can always hope."

He turned fully to eye her, arching an eyebrow at the sight of her. Agent Romanoff was standing up, facing him. She was wearing tight clothes that showed off her curvaceous, hour-glass figure—a white shirt that seemed too low to be decent, a black leather jacket, with black pants and long boots that were almost knee-high.

Loki wondered with amusement if Romanoff was going to try and seduce him. Well, two can play at this game.

"Ah, Agent Romanoff," Loki purred enticingly, dark green eyes sliding lazily over seductive curves. "Did you come here to make a point, or to squeeze information out me again?"

She cocked her hips at an insolent angle. "Well, maybe both. Though I have a feeling you'll be far more cooperative this time."

Argh, another painful reminder of the enchantment Loki was under. He'd almost forgotten about it—or at least he did not think about it in great detail anymore. "I can barely contain myself," said Loki dryly. "Do go on, I'm quite thrilled to be interrogated."

Natasha smiled without any real humor. "Who sent you to Earth?" she asked suddenly, voice sharp and straight to the point. Loki knew exactly what to say to that—Nobody sent me, I work for no one. Yet that was not accurate, and the enchantment probed, urging him to speak. Loki gritted his teeth. If he was going to be forced to tell the truth, then at least he was going to do it gracefully.

"Thanos," he supplied unhelpfully. Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Who is Thanos?"

Loki sighed. "He is a Titan, some call him a madman," he said. "The Dark Lord, the Mad Titan, call him what you will. He has control of the Chitauri army—or what's left of it anyway—" He added under his breath. "He is obsessed with finding the…Infinity Stones, they're called. He destroys entire worlds, and wreaks havoc and destruction wherever he turns."

Silence for a few minutes. "Sounds like a fun guy," Natasha said finally. "Why'd he hire you to attack Earth? And what are the Infinity Stones, and where are they now?"

Loki glared daggers out of his eyes, as green and brilliant as poison. But Natasha remained undaunted, and Loki was forced to speak. "He wanted the Tesseract," he said sourly. "I should think that was fairly obvious, anyhow. He cares nothing for Earth." He bit his lip.

"The Infinity Stones are powerful gems, gems that tie reality together. He gave me the Mind Gem in the scepter, and I know not where my scepter is. The Tesseract, I believe, is back on Asgard. The Aether is with Malkeith, a Dark Elf. I do not know where the others are, except the Power Stone, which was supposed to be retrieved by Ronan the Accuser, another Thanos forged a deal with. Thanos supplied us both with an army to help us in our campaigns against Earth and Xandar, which in exchange we gave him a different Infinity Stone. But we both failed—Ronan is dead, and the Power Stone is lost." Loki's lips twisted into a bitter smirk. "And here am I."

"And here you are," Natasha repeated. Her lips twitched. "How was your time with Thanos?" she asked wryly. "I bet you had the time of your life, crazy, deranged murderer to another crazy, deranged murderer?"

She may have meant it lightly, to act humorous or something, Loki felt sure, yet there was no question he'd rather answer less. He felt frantic, trapped, a mouse pushed into a corner with a cat. He tried not to answer, pressing his lips together, but the enchantment pushed and prodded until Loki hissed in pain. "By the Norns," he gasped, knees almost buckling.

Natasha was frowning as she wracked her brain, trying to figure out why Loki was so reluctant to reply. But it could be a danger to Earth, and she wasn't doing this for Loki's comfort, anyway. "What did you do with Thanos during your time with him?" she repeated slowly, blue eyes narrowing as Loki's fingers dug into his tunic.

But the enchantment was too strong for Loki to resist. "Horrible," it came out in a rush, Loki almost strangling himself in his reluctance to reply. "I was tied up under a serpent for a thousand eternities, burning acid venom dripped on me and burned through my back, I was beaten, Thanos tortured me, the Chitauri tortured me, Thanos took me and fucked me until I begged for mercy…"

Loki's eyes were large and feverish in his face, and Natasha felt her heart nearly stop as she listened to what he said with a dawning horror. "Oh God," she couldn't help saying, the impassive mask on her face cracking as a thousand emotions showed on her face. "Oh Christ, just stop it!"

Loki did, but Natasha couldn't look at him anymore. Turning around, she walked as fast as she could away, shaking hands grabbing the knob of the door as she almost ran out of that terrible, terrible room.

Chapter Text

"What do you mean the Chitauri are here?"

Loki paced back and forth on the ground, glaring heatedly at the security camera pointed at him. Jarvis' reply was apologetic.

"I'm sorry," said Jarvis, not sounding sorry at all. "But I'm afraid that's all that Mr. Stark told me. There is a mild Chitauri attack up north, and the Avengers have left to stop it. Mrs. Potts is at a meeting, so it's just Jane and you."

Loki's mind worked frantically. How would the Chitauri have gotten here, anyway? "So it's like the last attack, then?" asked Loki thoughtfully. Jarvis hastened to correct him. "There is no portal this time, and the number of Chitauri has increased considerably." he said. "And you are not there, too. I wouldn't worry about the Avengers, sir."

Loki frowned. "I'm not worrying about the Avengers!" he was able to indignantly say, honestly enough, because he wasn't at all worried for the Avengers' welfare. They could all get killed for all Loki cared. No, it was for his own well-being that Loki was concerned about, because a weakened and completely truthful god would be a golden medal for some mortals.

Then he frowned again, sinking into deep thoughts. "You say the attack isn't severe, Jarvis?" he asked. "Yes," replied the AI. "It is a good amount for all the Avengers to have a well-matched battle, but it isn't anything to worry about."

Loki was slightly frantic. Right now, how the Chitauri had managed to get to Earth without a portal was the least of his worries. Because whether he liked it or not, Loki knew that with Thor in the house, and the other Avengers, the Chitauri had a very slim chance of attacking Stark Tower and capturing Loki.

Yet Thor was gone. Loki didn't want to admit it, but he wanted Thor in the Tower now, because he had a strong feeling that the Chitauri attack was just a diversion.

Loki could stand his ground usually against Chitauri, for they were foolish fighters. Yet he had no weapon, was locked in a cage, was wounded, and literally had no magic at all—against a group of Chitauri, well armed and well-prepared. Those were not good odds.

But the Chitauri weren't shape-shifters, Loki comforted himself. Surely a group of the ugly creatures would attract mortal attention, and there was Jarvis with his security cameras.

Yet Thanos was uncannily clever, and wouldn't foolishly send a group of Chitauri in plain sight. He always had a plan.

"There is nobody different coming in the front, right Jarvis?" Loki inquired. Jarvis was silent for a few minutes, and if he was a human being Loki felt sure the AI would be looking suspiciously at him. "Yes," came the answer hesitantly. But Loki wasn't satisfied.

He flopped ungracefully onto the bed, closing his eyes as he stretched his awareness. Jane was up in her room, reading a book. Nobody else seemed to be in there…wait.

Loki froze, as he felt a vague presence inside the Tower. It was unfamiliar—yet they were unmistakably human. "Jarvis…" Loki said, turning hesitantly to the camera.

Jarvis was clearly confused, and seemed to be in a dilemma. "Loki!" said Jarvis, as surprised and alarmed as an AI could get. Loki's eyes narrowed, and he was up at once. "What?" he demanded, impatiently and unconsciously bouncing on the tips of his toes.

"They're shutting me down!" came the panicked voice of Jarvis. Loki's heart sank. Jarvis was the one protection he had in this damned cage the mortals had locked him into. "Who?" asked Loki quickly. The answer came painfully slow.

"A group of masked men," said Jarvis, voice coming in a rush. "They are fully armed. Four are heading towards Ms. Foster, and ten are coming your way."

Loki cursed fluently. "Let me out of here!" he ordered Jarvis. "I cannot lie, you must know that already. Believe me when I say that I don't want to do anything that would harm the Avengers. I cannot even properly defend myself against humans."

Jarvis seemed torn. "I'm shutting down in ten," he said. "I will notify Mr. Stark of the situation."

"They won't come fast enough!" Loki almost screamed. "Thanos has planned this too well, can't you see it? I cannot harm mortals without harming myself, so they are the perfect people to come capture me!"

The ten seconds were almost up. "Very well," said Jarvis' reluctant voice. The door hissed open, and Loki ran out…

….only to fall down as a dart hit him straight in the arm.

—

Loki stretched, opening his eyes. He sat up sharply as the events that happened previously clicked into place. Yet there wasn't much to see.

The room was pitch black, and Loki could barely see. He put out his hands in front of him, only to touch warm flesh.

He yelled in surprise, and someone else yelled too. Or more accurately, screamed.

"Ms. Foster?" Loki ventured. The person—now known as Jane Foster—yelped again. "Loki?" she asked in disbelief. "What the damned hell is going on?"

"I'm quite afraid I don't know, Ms. Foster," said Loki with as much politeness as he could muster. "Did you get a look at your attackers? Were they humans?"

Jane wasn't answering any questions, however. "Fuck off, you bastard," she snapped irritably. "What sort of horrible trap have you dropped me into this time?"

Loki forced his voice to be patient. "I have no trap planned, Ms. Foster," he said long-sufferingly. "As you know, I can't lie, and I can sincerely state that nothing that happened was connected with me in any way, and I know nothing of any sort about what's going to happen to us."

A silence. "Well, I still don't—" But she couldn't finish, because a block of light poured into the dark room, and four men, silhouetted, stepped in. Loki wasn't going to be dragged anywhere, and he was gracefully on his feet, masking his features so the wince on his face from the sudden light wouldn't show.

He opened his mouth to speak, but a masked men pulled out a gun, and poked him. "Don't say anything," growled a low voice. Another man had gone and dragged up a protesting Jane, and the two of them were prodded out the door.

Before Loki could take notice of his surroundings, he was shoved into another room with more of the glaringly bright tube lights.

The room was simple enough, white tiled floor, walls painted white. The only thing out of the ordinary was the large chair in the middle, leaning back. Like a chair you'd find in one of those mortal 'doctor' offices. The seat of the patient.

Yet there was someone in the middle. It was a middle-aged woman, looking in her mid-thirties. But her dark hair was streaked with silver, and her eyes were a dark golden-brown. Her face was impassive and her eyes were cold and calculating.

"And who's company do I have the pleasure of meeting?" inquired Loki. The woman arched an eyebrow. "Well, well, don't we have a Mr. Pretty-Words?" she said, amused. "I'm called Francesca Ransom." Before Loki could speak, however, she interrupted.

"Oh, I know who you are," she dismissed easily. "Loki, God of Lies, Prince of Asgard, yada, yada, yada." Loki cocked his head to one side. "I can see you know more about me than I you," he admitted, curiously green eyes studying her.

"I do," Ransom answered without shame. "And I've also found out that a certain god of lies can't lie."

Loki almost stiffened, but relaxed his posture as quickly as possible. "Fascinating," he said, without breaking his rhythm, yet his mind was working at top rate. How she found out was not important now. He needed to figure out how to worm out of this situation.

But it was clear Jane just got thrown into a big mess she wanted no part in. The All-Father had wanted him to do a good deed, and saving Thor's lover might do the trick. Saving Foster would erase nearly all hope he had of escaping..but whatever. At least Thor will feel eternally guilty if Loki dies.

Sighing, he stretched out his awareness until he felt only Jane, her life pulsating within her. Then he gently touched her conscience.

Don't look over at me, thought Loki frantically. It's me, Loki. I'm going to get you out of here.

When Jane only slightly flinched, Loki considered it progress.

He lightly camouflaged her, until the colors on her—her skin, hair, and clothing—blended in nicely with the background behind her. Loki felt a little weak at the knees when so much energy was sapped from him.

Walk back, Loki urged her. Find an exit. Get out of here.

What about you? Jane tried to think back. She concentrated far too hard, and Loki got the message easily. He raised an eyebrow. The message was clear, Why do you care about me?

Jane seemed to have a little confusion answering the question, so she just sent him one last look before slipping out the door, behind one of the masked men.

Much to his relief, Francesca Ransom didn't seem to notice anything. She had her eyes on him, and so did the men. They were probably expecting him to try to escape, but Loki knew when there was no point in trying.

She flipped out a board almost irritably, amber eyes sliding over its contents. "How to get into Asgard and escape notice, weakest part of Asgard's defense, location of secret tunnel into the castle…" she read lazily. Loki stiffened. Thanos, of course it was Thanos. The real question to be asking was when was it not Thanos.

Loki felt the now-familiar pressure in him, urging him to answer the questions. Loki knew the answers, obviously. He knew nearly all the secret entrances and exits out of Asgard, and from many of the other realms, too. But thankfully, Ransom didn't seem to need the answers.

"Can you believe these alien bastards?" she asked no one in particular. "We're the ones who captured the damned god. The assholes didn't even lift a finger to help."

Yet it wasn't all the mortals, Loki knew. If it hadn't been for the Chitauri attack, the Avengers would never have left. And these men were no match for the Avengers.

"No, I have something much better planned for our little god," said Ransom in a voice Loki did not like. She tipped her head sideways at him. "How would you like to be cloned?"

Loki stared at her. He had a vague idea of what cloning was, and it did not comfort him. Could mortals clone Aesir….no, he wasn't one, anyway. He was of Jotunheim.

"Think of what we could do, boys," purred Francesca. "With a thousand of him on our side, we'll be unstoppable. The world would be at our fingertips, ready for the plucking."

This really was getting tiring. Loki hoped that Jane would go fetch him some help, but then, she didn't really have to. Sighing, he was about to speak and attempt to talk his way out of this, when a presence outside the window twerked his mind. Loki's green eyes slid over to the window.

His survival instincts screamed at him, and Loki darted out of the way of the window, and just in time. Thousands of shards of glass spilled over the ground in a rainfall, as a golden beam hit Francesca Ransom straight in the chest. She staggered back, swearing.

In that moment, all hell broke loose as two hundred pounds of fiery red and gold burst into the room. "Tut, tut, Reindeer Games," said an all-too-familiar voice. "Finding trouble again?"

Loki allowed the smallest smile to escape onto his face. "Took you long enough, Stark."

Chapter Text

Loki quickly stepped out of the way, jaded eyes sharply noting everything. Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton had stormed in through the door, firing rapidly. Loki had the sense to remain in the corner, watching everything.

Then in came Thor, swinging Mjolnir in a rapid silver blur. "For God's sake," muttered Loki under his breath. They mustn't have found Jane, otherwise Loki doubted they'd come at all. Definitely not Thor. Or the Man of Iron. Or the Widow. Or Barton. In fact, for the life of him Loki had no idea why they didn't just leave him and run after Jane Captain wasn't there, Loki noted. Was he looking for Jane? But wouldn't Thor want to do that?

"Miss me?" asked Stark.

Loki wanted to answer with a witty reply, but he was forced to answer with the truth. "Yes," he answered before he could reply with some twisted truth. He honestly had missed the Avengers, and he'd wanted them to rescue him before he was cloned. Quickly, he said his next words, as if they'd cover up the raw truth he'd just spoken. "Did you find Jane?"

Stark punched a man in the chest before replying. "Yes," he said. "She told us what happened, and we came to get our favorite Lokster." Then his tone of voice changed. "Aw," he teased. "Aw, is Loki in love? Is my very own little Rudolph in love with Jane?"

Loki sighed, gritting his teeth. "Do not mock me, Stark," he said threateningly. Yet that only seemed to amuse Stark all the more.

"What a love triangle!" Stark sang on, kicking away a man standing behind him. "Who will Jane pick, the handsome, golden Thor, or the not-so-handsome, annoying Loki?"

Loki tried to take a different route. "I didn't know you considered Thor handsome," he said. Stark's ready wit had a reply, unfortunately. "Anybody's handsome compared to you," said Stark. Unable to think of a retort that wasn't a lie, Loki changed the subject.

"Then why did you all come here?" Loki inquired. Stark waved him off. "Just to enjoy the presence of your company," he said sarcastically. "Why do you think? To save your sorry ass, of course."

Loki managed to not stare dumbly at Stark. Thor came to his rescue? To change the subject yet again, Loki scowled suddenly at Stark. "I am not a damsel in distress, for you to come and rescue me," he said irritably. "I was handling myself perfectly—." but the enchantment wouldn't let him finish.

"Hang on," said Stark, whirling around. Before Loki could think, the Iron Man had his metal arms wrapped around him, and his repulsers lifted the two of them up. Loki kicked his way out, masking his burning cheeks, feeling mortified. "Let me go, you insolent mortal! What the hell…"

As Loki turned, Stark reached out and shot back a man who'd been standing Loki. The god of mischief stood, mute for a second time. How had he not noticed?

"This insolent mortal is listening," said Stark mockingly. "What were you saying again, my darling damsel?"

—

Natasha spun around, heart thumping as her senses went on high alert. She sharply wrestled a man to the ground, enjoying the thrill and the pumping of her heart, with the blood rushing past her ears and the adrenaline.

There was something that didn't seem right, however. Why weren't there any bullets fired? Not that she was complaining, of course. But when the enemy seemed to do things your way, there almost always was a trap.

But Natasha couldn't exactly figure out the problem at this moment, so she focused her attention on the masked men in front of her, kicking and punching at every available bit of flesh. She executed a perfect scissor kick, feeling a sense of accomplishment as she landed perfectly on the ground, on one knee with fists planted into the ground beside her.

Her mind worked at top rate, planning out her next moves like a map, when she felt it.

At the moment, Natasha didn't know what the it was, precisely. All she felt was a strange, sinking sensation in her stomach, as though she were in an elevator that was dropping too fast to be safe. She only felt it for the briefest of moments, for a fraction of a second, and if it hadn't been so strong and distance Natasha would've though she'd imagined it.

But then she blinked ever-so-slightly, and then Natasha froze, for she was on the other side of the room. Where she'd been standing was completely empty…no, it wasn't. A knife was streaking by, embedding itself in the wall behind. How had she not seen?

She turned her gaze over to Loki, who wasn't looking at her. The demigod was leaning against the wall, face slightly pale and brilliant green eyes narrowed in intense concentration. Natasha looked to see the object of his attention, and was surprised to see it was Clint.

Clint was fighting three guys at once, and behind him was another man, firing bullets rapidly. Yet they never hit him. Loki's forehead was creased at he flicked his wrist over and over again, splitting bullets in half before they reached a foot within Clint.

The guy firing looked confused, but then noticed Loki deflecting the bullets. He scowled, and turned towards Loki, aiming the gun at him.

Oh no, you don't.

Natasha slid a knife hidden up her sleeve out, and hurled it at the gun. She hadn't bothered to be terribly accurate, so the knife scraped his hands, and the man howled in pain.

She looked over at Loki again, who now returned her stare. His green eyes were mocking, yet not in a cruel way, but in a teasingly playful way. He nudged his head slightly next to her, and Natasha turned halfway. Her mouth formed a round O of surprise as she saw the attacker, poised midway between charging her.

A knife was cupped in his fist, a scowl on his face. Yet he couldn't move, and he was frozen, unable to move. Natasha didn't hesitate, but kicked him hard in the groin. Whatever spell Loki cast on him vanished, and the man flew backwards, landing hard on the ground.

Her fighter instincts tingled, and she whirled around, ducking at a fist that went flying above her. Natasha's eyes scanned the scene—three guys, all attacking. She glanced up to see if there was a lamp or a fan, and she was pleased to see it was a chandelier.

Hands stretched upwards, Natasha jumped up, seizing the lamp tightly and swinging forward, feet in front of her. She smashed into the chest of the first man, sending him sprawling. She landed on him, punched him hard in the jaw. His eyes went wide, then they blacked over and he slumped, unconscious.

Then she quickly threw her feet upward, locking her long legs around the next attacker's neck. Natasha wrestled him to the ground easily enough, then held out her wrist to the last man. A dart shot out, and stabbed the man in the arm. Long tendrils of blue-white electricity tackled him, and he fell to the ground, screaming.

"Done fooling around boys?" she asked, cocking her hips as her sea-green eyes scanned the room. All the men were lying on the ground, groaning or unconscious.

Thor was absently twirling his hammer, and all you could see of it was a silver blur. Tony was saying something to Loki, who looked decidedly displeased and irritated as he responded. Clint was looking around the room like her, and his gaze fell on Natasha. "More are coming," he said suddenly, and the attention of everyone in the room was directed to him. Tony and Loki fell silent.

"One of them called for reinforcements on his walkie-talkie," Clint elaborated. Natasha stiffened, but it was Thor who responded.

"Then let us leave," he said authoritatively. "I do not wish to harm any more of these mortals."

"I'm with Point Break," said Tony, his suit hissing as his face mask slid upwards, revealing his face. "I really could use some coffee. And talking with Lokes here has left me quite tired out."

Loki scowled darkly. "Do not call me that."

"Whatever you say, Lokster," Tony said dismissively. "We'd better hurry up if we want to leave before the other masked dudes come along." He frowned at Loki. "What did they want with you, anyway?"

Loki shrugged dismissively. "I believe they wished to clone me—into an army," he said. "Does that not mean to make duplicates of me using DNA or something of that kind?"

Tony's jaw dropped. "That'd definitely be the end of the world," he said wryly. "An army of Lokis? That woman must be out of her mind."

Loki looked self-satisfied. "On second thoughts," he said smugly, "I might as well have let her continue her operations, for multiple Lokis would have made this mortal world a far better place."

Tony stared at Loki. "Please tell me you're joking," he said. "But on the other hand, a couple more Tonies would definitely bring about world happiness. I mean, look at this pure handsomeness. The only problem with me is that there isn't enough of me."

Loki's jaw dropped. "Stark," he said. "I officially declare you out of your mind."

"Enough," said Thor sharply. "Brother, we have more important matters to attend to."

"I volunteer to carry Loki," said Tony promptly. Loki whirled around.

"I absolutely refuse to be carried by you, Stark," growled Loki, glaring out of narrowed, green eyes. As Thor opened his mouth to speak, Loki interrupted him, answering the anticipated question. "And I refuse to be carried by Odinson," he snapped. "I am not being carried by anyone."

"I'm sure I can handle it," said Tony sweetly. "Although you may be a little weighty…" If looks could kill, then Tony would be lying dead on the ground.

Black Widow leaned against the wall, closing her eyes. "Shut up, Stark," she said. "Guys, I guess we're going to walk."

Loki exhaled slowly, then held out his wrists to Thor, who was standing near him. Thor stood and looked over at him blankly.

"Are you going to make me stand here like a doofus?" growled Loki. "Just hurry up and put them on already." Thor's brow furrowed, then his brow cleared. Handcuffs. Loki was expecting Thor to put handcuffs on him. Thor obviously hadn't thought on that far ahead.

Loki slapped his palm to his forehead. "Then how did you expect me to get me out?!" demanded Loki. "I doubt the people of New York will appreciate me being paraded around unbound. Nor will your SHIELD."

"Shit," said Clint, running a hand through his brown hair. "Shit. What the hell are we expected to do now?"

"I think we should just tell SHIELD," said Natasha. "They'll just figure it out eventually, anyway."

Stark stepped forward. "We're not telling SHIELD shit."

"Tony," said Clint irritably. "How do you plan to get Loki back without anyone noticing? Of course, Loki can just pull off any stunt he wants, too. There's a ton of people around."

Loki inhaled sharply. "Mortals," he muttered under his breath. Then he screwed his eyes in intense concentration.

Thor turned slightly, then frowned as he saw what Loki was doing. "Loki," he said warningly, stepping forward. He knew what Loki was doing—he was preparing to teleport. After years of watching Loki do it, Thor knew how his younger brother looked before teleporting.

But he was too late. The Avengers—minus Steve and Bruce—blinked, and suddenly they were all standing in the middle of Stark Tower.

All eyes turned to Loki, who was looking dangerously pale. His knees buckled, and Loki fell face-down. Clint was near Loki, yet he did not bother to catch the demigod.

Thor yelled an overly-dramatic cry, and ran forward, sliding to his knees as he rolled Loki over. Loki mumbled something incoherent, then his eyes fluttered open.

Loki opened his mouth to speak, then was stopped abruptly. He closed his eyes, stilling so suddenly that Natasha suddenly feared he'd died. Her eyes darted over to his chest, which was not rising. Surely he wasn't…dead? Apparently Thor was thinking the same thing.

"Oh, no, no," said Thor frantically, a bubble of panic rising in his throat. He fumbled around Loki's body, trying to feel for a pulse while the other Avengers stood there, unsure of what to do. "Loki! Don't—"

To their immense surprise, Loki's green eyes popped open and he scowled ferociously at Thor. "I'm not dead, moron!" Loki snapped. "You oaf, get your ham-fisted hands off of me!" Loki struggled wildly, and Thor stepped back quickly.

Natasha sighed. "You boys can deal with all this crap," she said, turning to leave. "I'm going to get some shut-eye."

A/N - I'm sorry, that was such a crappy ending! I can't think of a better ending, though. If anyone has another ending that doesn't suck like mine, I'd love to hear it, and I may even change my ending.

Many thanks to redstarsarc for giving me the idea of an army of Lokis! I didn't think of it that way, I just visualized it as a bunch of advanced super-soldiers with Loki's DNA, or whatever Norse people have. But the idea of a bunch of Lokis is much better.

Anyway, stay tuned for the next chapter, and don't forget to review your thoughts!

Chapter Text

Loki sat up sharply in bed, the horror of the dream/memory still clinging to him. A cold sweat had broken over him, and his forehead was drenched.

Breathe, Loki. Calm down.

So Loki did, inhaling deeply and then exhaling slowly, closing his eyes and then opening them. His gaze darted over the little room, relaxing in the ordinariness and the familiarity of the room.

The Avengers had decided to have mercy on him, and they'd moved him yet again. But he didn't have the extravagant, one-floor living quarters as he'd had last time—now, he was in a decidedly smaller room, right next to Thor's. That was terribly unfortunate, as Jane was in there as well, and when Thor and Jane got, er, intimate, Loki had nothing to drown out the sounds, and he was left praying to the Norns that it would soon be over.

But the pair had finally gone to sleep, and Loki, despite what he'd done to keep himself awake, had fallen asleep. The moment he'd drifted off, an all-too familiar memory, horribly vivid and clear, had replayed in his mind. Thanos, thought Loki grimly.

He was beginning to panic again, so he turned his thoughts to the room. It was prettily done, set in blue and white. It had a bookshelf, and someone—most likely Pepper—had thoughtfully filled with it with Sherlock Holmes mysteries, and other novels that Loki found intriguing, such as The Three Musketeers, a couple of law books, yet best of all, the entire Harry Potter series. Loki had been in the middle of the Goblet of Fire when he'd fell asleep.

There was a little door that opened to a small bathroom, complete with soft, white towels and a shower. There was a chest-of-drawers in the room. The first drawer was filled with Iron Man pajamas and Hulk Smash socks with Captain America pants, and worst of all, there was a Thor sweatshirt. Most likely Stark. To show him exactly what Loki thought of his choice of clothing, the god of mischief had glared pointedly at the security camera, then crumbled up the entire pile and tossed them in the wastebasket.

Thankfully, a much more thoughtful person—probably Pepper again—had filled the last two cupboards up with simple Midgardian clothing in his signature colors, green and black. The walls themselves had far too many pictures on them for Loki's liking. They were, as expected, all pictures of Stark. There were a couple pictures of the Hulk, too. Loki had broken most of them, but a couple he'd changed into more bearable pictures of landscapes.

Yet no matter how much Loki thought, he still kept coming back to Thanos and the dream. He pressed a palm weakly to his forehead.

Thor. Suddenly, Loki was overcome with a longing to go to Thor, to get into his bed and whisper his nightmare to him. To have Thor fiercely promise that if anyone wanted to get to Loki, he'd have to go through his older brother, first. Like he did when he was younger. Loki just wanted Thor, to embrace him, to feel Thor's strength and to take comfort in it. Loki had never been afraid when Thor was around to protect him.

Instantly, Loki forced himself to snap out of it. Don't be a child, Loki snapped at himself. Thor cannot save you. He turned his attention to his books, unsuccessfully keeping Thor from preying on his mind.

Loki was debating mentally whether fetching a book was worth the trouble of getting up out of the warm bed, when a sudden, quick knock on the door jerked him out of his thoughts. I'm really getting slow, thought Loki. He reached out with his mind, and was pleased—then annoyed with himself for feeling pleased—to figure out it was Thor.

He glanced at the clock hanging up in the corner of the wall. It had once been an Avengers clock, before Loki had instantly changed it. Loki frowned. The time was 2:03.

What would Thor want at 2 in the morning? pondered Loki. He turned his attention to Thor, who's knocking had now become frantic and much more powerful.

"Loki, if you're awake," said Thor warningly, "You'd better open this door, or I swear that I would break it down."

As entertaining as that would be, Loki liked his room, and didn't want to be moved into another one while Stark had repairs done. So he flicked his wrist, and the door unlocked automatically. Loki winced at the effort it cost him. Thanks to Stark's idiotic choice of pictures, and Loki's pride, his magic was almost depleted.

"Come in already!" he said impatiently. "The door is unlocked."

Thor barged in, hammer held tightly in his hand. What did I do now? wondered Loki. He didn't really want Thor angry at him.

Yet Thor didn't seem angry at him. "Are you all right, brother?" he asked quickly. The concern in his brilliantly blue eyes was too much, and Loki had to hastily throw on a mask of glamor over his face to keep Thor from seeing his crumbling composure.

Loki was prepared this time, for he didn't want to say the truth. No, he wasn't all right. But compared to the times when he was actually being tortured by Thanos, then yes, he was all right.

"Yes," said Loki. "Now can you leave and let me get a moment's rest?"

But Thor was frowning. "You called for me, Loki," he said. "You—" his face flushed awkwardly, and Thor ducked his head. "You—you screamed for me. To come help you."

Loki stilled. Damnit, damnit! Why hadn't he silenced the room? Of course he'd screamed for Thor, nearly every night with Thanos he'd screamed for Thor to come. Why wouldn't he in his dreams?

"It is nothing of your concern," answered Loki far too quickly. Yet Thor sat down on the edge of Loki's bed, ocean-blue eyes filmed over with sympathy. "What do you want, Loki?" Thor asked quietly.

Loki froze. He hadn't been expecting this. I want you, Thor, his thoughts said. To hug you, to have you comfort me. To have you chase the monsters away.

Of course Loki couldn't say that. What else did he want? "I want to go outside," Loki said, unexpectedly. "I'm tired to staying in here. I want to be out in the fresh air."

Thor was studying Loki's face, and Loki felt grateful when Thor didn't press on the matter. Although he could have, and Thor would've gotten the truth if he'd pressed hard enough.

"Then very well, brother," said Thor, just as unexpectedly. "I will see what I can do."

Loki blinked stupidly at Thor. "What—uh, all right, then, Thor," he said, finding his tongue at last. Then his green eyes twinkled suddenly. "Will you and Jane keep it down?" he asked mischievously. "You've been keeping me awake."

Thor had the grace to flush. Mumbling something inaudible under his breath, the god of thunder slipped out the room, closing the door behind him.

—

The moment Loki closed his eyes, he knew he was in a dream.

Yet Loki was prepared, this time. After Thor had left the room, Loki had formulated a plan. It was a crazy, half-cocked plan that only Loki himself could've thought up of. But it could work, and if everything went according to the plan, then Loki would be out of here.

"Ah, my favorite little Laufeyson," rumbled Thanos' deep voice. "You said you had a message for me?"

"Yes," replied Loki, forcing his heart rate not to accelerate so sharply. Then he stepped forward. "I bring a gift, Thanos. And in return, I require my ability to lie and my magic back."

Thanos laughed, and Loki just managed not to shudder. He expected argument, mocking, and questioning. Maybe even cross-examining. And Loki was sure Thanos was going to use his brutal, mind-entering techniques. Hopefully, Loki had planned well.

But he was not prepared for what happened next. Thanos flicked his great wrist at Loki, and the demigod gasped as he felt the barriers blocking his magic dissolve. His entire energy source flooded within him, and Loki inhaled deeply, like a fish being thrown back in the water.

His magic began to work at the arrow wound Barton had given him, and at the poison working in his system. And Loki knew then that he was no longer dying.

His tongue was loosened, too. He felt it somehow, the pressure of speaking the truth was no long weighing down on him. He blinked at Thanos out of surprised, yet suspicious, green eyes. What was the catch?

"What are you going to give me in return, little Prince?" asked Thanos. "The Tesseract? An Infinity Gem?"

Loki smiled. "Oh, it's something nearly as good," he answered. "I'll bring you the ones who stopped me from bringing you the Tesseract. I'll bring you the ones who defeated your Chitauri forces.

I'll bring you Earth's Mightiest Heroes.

I'll bring you the Avengers."

Chapter Text

"Are you gay?"

Tony prepared himself for anything—this was Loki he was asking, after all.

Tony had made a bet with Bruce, who was firmly convinced that Loki was straight. Tony had bet Bruce twenty dollars that Loki was gay. Of course, Tony was a billionaire, and twenty dollars was nothing. But Tony Stark wasn't going to let twenty dollars go without a fight.

Loki blinked in surprise. "Happy?" he echoed in surprise. "No, Stark, I am not very happy right now. I would be much more gay if you let me go, however."

Great, thought Tony. How was he supposed to explain this to Loki? He grinned sheepishly. "No, that's not what I meant," he said. "I mean, uh, have you ever found men, well, attractive?" Loki looked bewildered.

"You could say I found Thor attractive," he said, finally. Tony spluttered out the long sip of coffee he'd taken. "Holy—oh my God, what?"

But Loki was still speaking. "Not now, of course," he amended. "I suppose all younger brothers find their older brothers attractive, although that is not the word I'd use. I would follow him around a great deal, and I often considered him the greatest warrior that ever lived."

Loki was scowling now. "But I know better now," he said ferociously. "Thor is not even my brother, and he is nothing but a blundering, foolish oaf." Then he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Why do you wish to know all this?"

Tony was greatly relieved, to be honest. But he still wanted his answer, and now the billionaire decided to use a different tactic.

"Have you ever fallen in love with a girl?" he questioned. Loki seemed more confused than ever. "Yeess," he dragged out reluctantly. His brow furrowed. "And of course it was a female," he said. Then he laughed to himself. "Why, did you think it'd be a male?"

Loki obviously considered that too far-fetched for even Tony, and the playboy decided to let him think that way. Loki wasn't finished, however.

"I kissed Thor, once," Loki said, grinning stupidly. Tony coughed as he choked on his coffee once again. Loki's eyes held a faraway look in them. "Well, it was really Thor who kissed me," he corrected himself.

"Uh, what?" asked Tony in disbelief. "Is there a story behind that?"

Loki smirked playfully. "Yes, there is, Stark," he said. "And since it is one that Thor does not appreciate very much, I will be honored to tell you."

"Story time!" said Tony, mock-gleefully. He leaned back in his chair, resisting the urge to grin at the irony of everything. Loki—the guy who'd thrown Tony out of a window—was going to tell him a story. If that wasn't hilariously weird, then tell him what was.

"It started when—" began Loki, but Tony interrupted. "Once upon a time," he said. "Every good story begins with Once Upon a Time."

Loki grinned suddenly, and it held no malice. It was just a playful, teasing smile, and Tony had never seen such a smile on Loki's face before. "Very well, Stark," he said.

Loki sighed as his green eyes unfocused. "Once upon a time," he said, throwing Tony a glance. "There was a handsome, strong prince named Loki." Tony stifled a snort, biting down on a sarcastic remark. Loki went on. "The beautiful, well-loved…"

"…reindeer," Tony supplied helpfully. Loki frowned at him.

"…prince of Asgard," Loki said, sending Tony a firm glare, "went out to a forbidden part of the garden." Tony smirked. "Why am I not surprised?" he muttered.

Loki rolled his eyes. "You know what, let's start over," he said. "It'll make all this much faster." Then he started over.

"Like I said before," said Loki, "I went out to a part of the garden that the All-Father had forbidden." He drummed his long, slender fingers on the table. "But a couple of the palace guards were coming my way," he said. "They'd seen my shadow, and there was no point in me teleporting away. So I did the only sensible thing I could've done."

"That's a first," mumbled Tony, but Loki's next words stopped him cold.

"I turned into a girl," said Loki casually.

For the third time, Tony choked on his coffee. More of this is coming out than going in at this rate, thought Tony dismally. Then he turned his attention back to the startling statement made by the god of mischief.

"Holy—oh God, holy shit!" exclaimed Tony, coughing helplessly. Loki was watching him idly, but there was a twinkly in his green eyes. He's enjoying this, the little bastard, thought Tony.

"You can turn into things?!" Tony demanded. Loki smiled slightly at his surprise. "Yes, son of Stark," he said, not bothering to hide his amusement. Then he answered Tony's next unasked question. "And no, I cannot tell you how," he said. "It is far too complicated for your, er, mortal mind to comprehend."

Tony chose to ignore that, eager to get along with the somewhat odd story. "Why not a fly, or something?" he asked.

"I couldn't," Loki explained simply. "They'd already seen my shadow, and since I'm nearly the only person in the palace who can teleport so quickly, Odin would know it was me. Now may I get along with the story?"

"One question," Tony said, holding up a finger. "How did you look? As a girl, I mean," he added.

Loki raised an eyebrow. "Pretty," he said noncommittally. "Black hair, blue eyes, white skin, red lips. I made myself seem very innocent, with a long white gown and a soft voice." He gave Tony a knowing look. "Men like that sort of thing."

"So anyways," continued Loki. "I was a pretty girl. I made up some sob story, and the soft-hearted guards let me go on my way. I couldn't change back into my regular form until I was beyond their vision. I was prepared to after turning a bend…but you can guess who I ran into."

"Thor," said Tony, having a feeling he knew where the story was going. Loki nodded.

"Yes," he said. "And if you knew Thor before Odin cast him to Midgard, he was practically a magnet attracted to every beautiful girl." His lips twitched. "And I was rather fine-looking, if I do say so myself."

"Frankly, I was horrified," said Loki, jade eyes dancing. "But Thor would never let me here the end of it if I changed myself back, so I was pretty much stuck with the determined god of thunder."

Tony could imagine that situation all too well, and he burst out laughing. Thankfully, his cup of coffee was nowhere near. Loki looked pleased.

"But I thought how hilarious it'd be to tease Thor afterwards," went on Loki. "So I went along with it. He flirted with me," he grinned, "and I flirted shamelessly back. It was terribly amusing, and I had to resist the urge to burst out laughing. I was remarking something about how golden his beard was…" Tony snorted, "…when he, er, kissed me."

Loki had pulled up a look of mock disgust on his face, and Tony felt himself laugh all the more. "He was stronger than me," Loki admitted, "and I couldn't squirm away. It only lasted a few seconds, but I managed to wiggle away. Thor looked hurt, and I assured him that it wasn't him, it was just that I'd never kissed anyone before or something like that. I just wanted to get out of there at that moment."

"Well, we went back to flirting," said Loki. "I tried to excuse myself, but you've seen how thick-skinned Thor is. He doesn't take a hint. I was barely paying attention to what Thor was doing, and before I knew it, Thor was rubbing my shoulders and tugging at my sleeves."

Loki's face screwed up again, and Tony couldn't keep the smile off his face. "What next?" he prompted. Loki pulled up a wry expression.

"Obviously I didn't last much longer," he said. "In a fright I changed back at once." Loki smirked. "But the look on his face was absolutely worth it. Thor just stared at me, before hurriedly walking away. The next day he threatened me, and told me to never tell anyone what had happened." Loki shrugged. "And I guess I broke that promise." But he didn't look at all sorry.

"Turn into the girl now," said Tony. Loki pursed his lips. "What, now?"

"Yes," persisted Tony. Loki looked displeased. "If Thor sees me…"

"He won't," Tony assured him. "Just for a moment?"

"It'll be hard," said Loki. "And I can only hold it for about five minutes." Tony shrugged. "I don't care," he said insistently. Loki sighed resignedly.

"As you wish, Stark," he said. Before Tony could reply, streaks of light covered Loki. Tony sucked in his breath sharply as he curiously reached out and touched the green sparkles.

But the emerald light soon faded, and Tony's jaw dropped. For standing in front of him was no longer Loki….but a very hot girl.

Her skin was lily-white, her eyes were a sparking, clear blue, her hair was long and silky, and her red lips were full and generous. "Oh my God," breathed Tony, brown eyes wide. Surely it wasn't Loki?

Then a familiar smirk twisted her lips. "Satisfied, Stark?" she asked, but it was no longer Loki's smooth, faultless voice. The girl's voice was low, clear, and had a pleasant, musical lilt to it.

"Jeez," muttered Tony. He didn't blame Thor at all—in fact, Tony probably would have done the same thing in his position. "Wow, Lokietta. How'd you do it?"

Loki scowled ferociously, an annoyed look that did not fit her gentle features. "Don't call me that," she said. "My name is, uh, Amora. And no, I doubt you'd understand, anyway. It's magic."

Tony was absolutely fascinated, and Loki was looking the tiniest bit pleased with the impression she made on Tony. The genius opened his mouth to speak, but the opening of a door cut him off.

"To-ny!" protested a familiar voice. "The board of directors isn't going to accept the fact that another long-lost uncle came from the Bermuda Triangle! What am I…oh." Pepper's voice trailed off as her eyes scanned Loki-Corinne.

Pepper smiled, but it wasn't the warm smile she often gave Tony, or even the formal smile she gave the press. It was a tight smile that clearly said to Tony, What the hell is going on here?

"Pepper…" Tony began, but Loki/Amora cut him off. "Virginia!" she said brightly. "Tony's told me all about you…you're his janitor, right?"

Pepper's smile was now 100% forced now. "No," she said coldly. "I'm his girlfriend."

Loki/Amora was now beaming brighter than ever. "Oh Tony," she giggled. "You never told me you were dating your janitor!" Amora had the audacity to wink at Pepper. "Our Tony keeps a lot of secrets, doesn't he?" she whispered loudly, giggling again.

Tony was officially dead. He covered up his face as he cracked up again, having a feeling that he was going to be getting it from Pepper later.

He looked up, eyes bright with laughter, as Thor walked in behind Pepper. The demigod stopped dead at the sight of his brother….or was it his sister?

"Loki," he rumbled, glaring at the girl. Mjolnir flew to his hand, and Tony winced at the crashing sounds coming from the room behind. "Kindly stop changing your gender."

Amora ducked her head, then looked up at Thor through long, thick lashes. "Hello…Thor," she said seductively, but Thor was having none of it. He hurled his hammer across at Loki/Amora, who teleported away to the other end of the room.

His disguise had fallen off, and Tony was relieved to see that it was Loki staring back at him. Pepper looked ready to faint. "I—uh, I gotta go now, Pep," said Tony hastily, after glaring at Loki. "Catch you later?"

"Anthony Stark!" Pepper screeched behind him as Tony ducked quickly out of the room.

"Hey, Bruce," he called out. "Did you meet Lokietta yet?"

—

"Where are we going?"

Loki walked alongside Thor gracefully, his booted feet barely touching the ground. His elegant, agile stride contrasted sharply with Thor's heavier, stronger tread. That was how Loki'd always walked—lightly, but proudly with a touch of dignity, his head held up with green eyes glittering.

"I do not know," Thor admitted. "What would you prefer, brother?"

When Loki didn't mumble, 'I'm not your brother,' Thor knew Loki was in a good mood. "Somewhere sweet," said Loki at last. Thor allowed himself a fond smile. Loki had always had a sweet tooth.

"Natasha took me to this place called Sara's Cafe," said Thor. "It is just down the block, so let us try it."

"Fine," answered Loki calmly.

Thor couldn't remember the directions, so he asked a gawking group of girls for directions politely enough. They were very nice girls who asked to take a picture with Thor—and how could he refuse? Loki merely muttered something unflattering about Thor before walking ahead.

Thor glanced worriedly at Loki, before apologizing and taking his leave. He kissed the hand of the blushing, giggling girl in front, then hastily strode up to catch up to his younger brother.

They walked in silence for a few moments, and Thor watched Loki take in the bustling, busy streets full of life. You would've destroyed all this, thought Thor sadly, without a single thought of remorse. What happened to my gentle, younger brother?

Loki seemed to know what Thor was thinking, and he looked sideways at him. Loki's expression was almost sad, yet it wasn't remorse, Thor knew. Maybe Loki might've felt a slight pricking of his conscience—if he even had a conscience. But the look Loki was giving him wasn't regret for his actions.

But what was it? Finally, Loki spoke. "Don't trust me, Thor," he said, and his voice was soft and quiet. His moistened his lips with his tongue, before raising his head to look Thor in the eye. "You should never trust me."

Thor didn't understand why Loki was telling him this, but the trickster always had a reason for everything he did. Was he trying to manipulate Thor, somehow? Thor couldn't figure it out, and he didn't try to. Loki had always been far cleverer than him.

"I know," answered Thor with regret in his voice. "But I want to, Loki. I really want to, more than you know."

"Mm," was all Loki could say in reply. His green eyes were now fixed on the road ahead of them, and the two of them walking in uncomfortable silence.

Sara's Cafe wasn't far, and Thor stopped at it. Loki stopped too, quietly observing the little shop. Thor turned to Loki. He dreaded doing this, for he knew how much Loki hated being forced to speak the truth. But it needed to be done.

"Loki," he said gently, and judging by the look on Loki's face, he knew it was coming. But his younger brother didn't fight it, instead he looked resigned.

"Yes?" he asked, voice low. Thor just sighed.

"Loki, are you planning anything that may harm any mortals here, me, or anyone in general?" Thor asked, bracing himself for the worst. "Or are you planning to escape?"

Loki did not move his head, nor did he look at Thor. "No, I am not planning anything," he said. Thor did not bother looking at his face for confirmation. If Loki was lying, Thor knew he could lie with his face and eyes just as well as with his tongue and body language.

Thor felt relieved as he stepped into the Cafe, Loki at his heels. A young serving girl with a round face, large golden curls with big brown eyes blinked at them, large eyes growing even larger at the sight of them.

"Good morning, ma'am," said Thor respectively. The serving girl just kept goggling at the two of them, so Thor politely excused himself and slipped into a table in the corner. Loki sat opposite him.

"I'm not particularly hungry now," said Thor to the serving girl who waited for their orders. "And Lo—my brother would like a cup of your chocolate that is hot."

"I would?" asked Loki sarcastically. "What if I'm not hungry, either?"

"He would like a cup of chocolate that is hot," Thor interrupted. Loki was just trying to be difficult. The girl frowned. "Hot chocolate?" she asked meekly.

"Yes, that," answered Thor. The girl jotted down something hastily, before scurrying off like a frightened rabbit.

Thor turned to Loki. His younger brother probably expected an appeal to his humanity, or some sentiment from Thor as Loki so fondly put it. Thor probably would end up pleading with Loki by the end of the conversation, but for now, Thor was here on a mission. He needed information.

"What is Thanos planning, brother?" he asked sharply, cutting to the chase.

Loki looked slightly surprised, but whatever expressions showed on his face, Thor knew that Loki allowed it to be there. So he paid it no attention.

Loki was forced to respond, and not use his favorite tactic of answering a question with another, complicated question. Loki eyed Thor as he most likely figured out how to phrase his answer.

"He is planning something," Loki answered finally. "Something big. From what I can gather, I believe he is preparing to wage war on Midgard."

Thor tensed. "Why?" he asked, with a sinking feeling in his stomach. "Is there any way to stop him?"

Loki frowned. "He is in love with Death," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "And the more people he kills, the more pleased Death is. And mortals are remarkably fragile." Loki bit his lip, a habit that Thor remembered. "And Thanos loves a challenge," added Loki. "Taking on the mortal heroes that defeated his top general would certainly be amusing enough to the Titan."

"Is there any way to stop him?" went on Loki. "Maybe the Avengers could, if you help them. But Thanos would most likely have slaughtered hundreds of the humans by then. Even if Thanos is defeated, Earth would never be the same."

Thor knew the tone of voice Loki was using. It was the tone Loki used when he had a suggestion, but was merely waiting for someone to ask, Do you have an idea? Thor had grown used to 'The Tone', as he'd referred to it as, and had remained silent just to annoy Loki. But now he had better things to worry about than fretting over fueling Loki's already mountainous ego.

"Do you have an idea?" asked Thor desperately. "Something that will not result in disaster for Midgard or the Avengers?"

Loki made a show of scratching his chin and thinking hard. It took all of Thor's self-control to not brain Loki with Mjolnir.

"Weeelll," dragged out Loki, "Yes, there is a way I believe you can stop Thanos." He looked meaningfully at Thor. "When you know there's going to be a battle," said Loki, "You don't wait for the other to attack you, you attack them."

"What are you suggesting?" demanded Thor, tired of this dancing around the question.

Loki looked Thor straight in the eye. "Strike Thanos where he is," he said. "I will teleport you and the Avengers to Thanos' homeworld. If you kill him off there itself, the Chitauri army will be leaderless."

"Unless you take control of them," contradicted Thor.

"I assure you, Thor," said Loki, "I have no intention of wreaking havoc and war on any of the Nine Realms."

"Then why are you helping us?"

"Do not consider me incapable of helping you," said Loki quietly. "You know I have no reason to be fond of Thanos. I'd like to see him destroyed. Utterly."

Before Thor could speak, Loki cut him off. "But do not think I am helping you for the sake of it," he said. "I am helping you to help me. Don't expect me to be tagging behind you like a little shadow like before."

"I never considered you a shadow, or any less than me," said Thor heavily. It hurt his heart to hear Loki so flippantly mentioning their youth, and so flippantly disregarding Thor's love for him. "I thought the world of you, Loki. I considered you my equal."

Loki let an ironic, mirthless smile slid on his face. "You say so," he said bitterly, with a touch of regret in his voice. "But do the people of Asgard?"

Without lying, Thor could not answer that. He decided to change the subject.

"I will tell the Avengers what you told me about Thanos," he sighed, gazing out the window. "We will discuss it." Loki just shrugged loosely, snapping his head up as the serving girl walked over with a cup filled with the creamy, rich, brown goodness that Thor had loved.

Jane had made the hot chocolate for him, once. It had been slightly too sweet for Thor, and automatically he'd thought of Loki. Loki loved sweet things more than he'd admit.

"Thank you," said Loki, all quietness and sobriety from earlier draining off his face as he offered the girl a winning, charming smile. The girl ducked her head, blushing as she excused herself. Once again, the sting of nostalgia struck. Loki knew how to charm ladies very well.

Loki took a small sip of the chocolate, and his green eyes lit up. "This—this is surprisingly good," he admitted, looking up at Thor.

Thor had a sudden feeling of uneasiness. What if Loki could lie? he thought. Horror sank in. Whatever Loki would say would automatically be accepted as truth. But Odin himself had said Loki was unable to lie….

Well, if Loki was lying, all Thor could say was that they were in for a loadful of trouble.

Chapter Text

—

"Let me get this straight," said Natasha, blue-green eyes narrowed as she frowned at Thor. "A great, crazy, almost indestructible purple Titan with serious love-issues is coming to Earth? Not to take over the world, but to just, destroy it?"

"When you put it that way," admitted Thor, "it sounds a whole lot worse." A very brief silence endured.

"Can someone tell me why the hell he's here?" demanded Clint suddenly, waving his hand towards Loki. The said god raised his bowed head in slight surprise at the mention of his name, amused green eyes regarding Clint quietly. Loki didn't say anything in defense, but settled for a slight quirk of his brow.

That was enough to antagonize Clint, for there is nothing that annoys an angry, passionate person more than mocking and no reaction.

Natasha saw the fierce glint in his eye, so she hastened to the rescue. "We may need to question him," she answered before a huge debate could be started over that.

"We already questioned him," pointed out Clint. He scowled suspiciously at Loki. "What if he's working his fucking magic stuff on us?"

That just seemed to amuse Loki even more, who ducked his dark head to hide a smile. Then he raised his head, twisting his hands in an exaggerated flourish as green sparks danced out of his hand. An illusion of a butterfly danced from his outstretched palm, fluttering its delicate wings as it flew gently above Loki's head.

Natasha had to force a mask of calm on her face to hid the surprise and curiosity she felt. She had a sudden childlike urge to run and try to catch the sparkling butterfly, but the SHIELD agent stamped down ruthlessly on the feeling.

Clint, however, felt differently about the butterfly. In a swift motion, an arrow was pointing at Loki, who looked unperturbed.

"Brother, stop antagonizing him," ordered Thor. Loki did not answer, but turned wide, innocent green eyes onto Thor, as if to say, How can I antagonize him if I'm not saying anything?

Bruce's fist collided with a table, causing the little vase on it to rattle dangerously. "Shut up, everyone!" he hollered loudly. Immediately, silence followed. Bruce rarely showed his anger (except when he turns into the Hulk) but whenever he did, everybody knew to take him seriously.

"We have better things to worry about," he snapped in a most unlike-Bruce manner. "Thor, get your brother out of the room. Clint, he wasn't doing anything. You'd think him making little green butterflies was a sign of deadly intentions."

Wanting to say more but not daring to as he saw a tinge of green in Bruce's arm, Clint silenced, chastened. Loki quietly exited the room with Thor behind him, and everyone remained silent until the god of thunder entered the room again.

Tony immediately took the floor. "Guys, I think we're overreacting a little," he said, pacing with his hands shoved in his pockets. "We defeated Loki easily enough. This is pretty much the same thing."

Natasha snorted, letting the dry contempt escape through her voice. "That's your definition of easily enough?"

"Yes," said Tony, turning to face her. "Steve and I together could've handled him. Thor could've handled him too, and the Hulk got him pretty bad. I'm sure you two could too. It was just his army that was destroying everything."

Steve shook his head. "We're dealing with a whole new level here, guys," he said. "And there's a difference between Loki and Thanos, here. Loki wants to rule, and in order to rule there needs to be something to rule. Thanos here doesn't want Earth intact. He just wants Earth…"

"…destroyed," finished Thor. He looked around at the Avengers, who all had their eyes glued on him. "To let Thanos even near Earth would be folly. What he unleashed here in New York with Loki was only a portion of his army, Loki tells me."

Someone cursed. "What choice do we have?" asked Tony. "The magical rainbow bridge has been destroyed, and life's not like Star Wars. We can't exactly blast off in the Millennium Falcon to face Thanos somewhere off Earth."

Thor raised an eyebrow, as he jerked his hand towards the door. "We can't," he said. "But he can."

Silence reigned again as everyone digested this, mainly wondering if Thor had the audacity to suggest what they thought he was suggesting.

"You mean…Loki?" asked Clint incredulously. "That crazy, son of a—" he caught the dangerous gleam in Thor's eye and hastily amended his statement. "—nice lady," he finished lamely.

Natasha was watching Thor with a knowing look on her face. "Loki put you up to this, didn't he?"

Thor had a guilty look on his face. "Well…he may have mentioned something of the sort," he answered sheepishly.

"What if he's been mind-controlling you this whole time?" asked Tony, narrowing his eyes. Thor shook his head hastily.

"I can assure you, son of Stark," he reassured him, "I am not being mind-controlled."

"His eyes aren't blue," said Clint helpfully, then frowned as he thought his words over. "Well, his eyes are blue," he said, studying Thor's eyes so intently that the demigod began to feel uncomfortable. "Jesus, Thor, you have the bluest eyes I've ever seen. They don't look like they're being mind-controlled, but…ah, to hell with it."

"I never thought I'd see the day when we trust Loki more than Thor," mumbled Tony, "but we need to ask Loki if he's mind-controlling Thor. Then, we need the details of the new mission."

Then, raising his voice, Tony hollered, "Oy! Bambi!"

Despite the dire predicament, Thor smiled. "He never liked it when we used to call him nicknames," he said bittersweetly. "I doubt he'd come if you call him like that."

Tony shrugged. "I have nicknames for everyone."

"Not for me," Bruce pointed out. "Or Natasha."

Tony frowned. "Really?" he questioned. Then he waved an arm vaguely up at the air. "JARVIS, schedule 1-2 for next Thursday—I need it to get new nicknames."

"God, why did I have to point it out?" moaned Bruce. Clint raised an eyebrow.

"You don't have a nickname for me," he said.

"I do," Tony contradicted. "It's Legolas. Or Katniss."

Before Clint and Tony could ramble on for ages—as the rest of the Avengers knew all too well that they could—Loki slipped into the room. All eyes snapped on him.

"Is Thor mind-controlled?" asked Steve, cutting straight to the chase. Loki didn't seem in the mood for beating about the bush, either.

"No, Thor is not mind-controlled" he replied, sending Thor an unreadable, quick glance. "Do you wish to know about my plan to stop Thanos? Other than that, I have no other plans that involve me escaping, or anything that you or the other Avengers would dislike."

"Tell us your plan," said Natasha, and so Loki did.

"You want to keep Thanos from killing anyone," said Loki. "The best way to do that is to not have him here at all. I can teleport you there—straight to Thanos—and I believe all of you, together, can stop the Titan."

"Why are you helping us?" asked Bruce calmly, staring at Loki out of his glasses.

Loki neatly folded his hands behind his back. "I'm sure you can answer that yourselves," he said. "I am not overly fond of Thanos at this moment, and that would be an understatement. Don't think I'm having a sudden change of heart—it'll just be far more convenient for me if Thanos is dead."

It took a quite a bit of persuasion, but the Avengers were finally convinced that Loki's plan could actually work. It took another hour for them to straighten out the little details, and by the end of it everyone's voice was sore and every head was throbbing. But in the end they had the perfect, revised plan of attack, approved by all the Avengers.

"All right, guys," said Steve at last, rubbing his fist against his forehead. "You got a suit? Then suit up."

—

"I can't believe you're just leaving!"

Pepper was pacing, face flushed with eyes glittering. It was her 'panic' mode, the mood that Tony fondly referred to as a 'Peppery Pepper Mode'.

"I mean, what if you're killed?" ranted on Pepper. She shook his shoulders hard to show how serious she was. "Billions of miles away, out in space…oh god, why did I agree to this?"

"Because I have to," said Tony gently, taking her trembling hands in his. He squeezed her delicate hands once, then reached up and cupped her face. "I need to make this world a safer place—for you, Pep."

"I know," said Pepper shakily, a sob catching in her throat. Her eyes were red, but she knew Tony had to go. The redhead entwined her fingers into his tangled dark hair, leaning him over as she crushed her lips against his. She ran her fingers over the red-gold of his suit, smiling tearfully as Tony's faceplate hissed, sliding over his face.

Meanwhile, Jane and Thor were also sharing tearful goodbyes, speckled by kisses that were far too passionate for Loki's liking, who was forced to stand right beside Thor.

That pretty much left everyone else standing there awkwardly, averting their eyes from the sobbing lovers and uncomfortable shifting from foot to foot. Finally, Tony and Pepper, and Thor and Jane, separated.

Pepper and Jane hugged Natasha, after formally smiling tearfully or shaking hands with the other Avengers. When they arrived at Loki, however, Pepper settled on a handshake, and in an unexpected show of gallantry, Loki kissed Jane's hand. Jane just flushed and murmured something inaudible under her breath.

"Shall we go now, then?" asked Steve. The Avengers had been prepping for a week, and now they all stood assembled on the balcony of Stark Tower, dressed and fully armed.

Why Loki was there in the first place no one could say for sure. Loki had insisted he wouldn't teleport the Avengers unless Loki himself came along. And anyway, he could come whether they wanted him or not he'd come either way, so they decided it'll better to keep him near them so as to keep an eye on him.

The issue of whether or not he could have a weapon had caused a controversy. Of course, he needed to defend himself…but Loki hadn't earned the title of god of trickery for nothing. He repeatedly said he had no intentions of escaping—but no one could tell if he was twisting his words or not. So the Avengers just told him to stick close to Thor and hope that he wasn't attacked, which probably didn't comfort Loki much. Yet the green-eyed god insisted he was coming.

"I'm ready when you are," answered Tony, glancing at the facial expressions of his teammates. Clint's head was ducked, Natasha's face was drawn tight and impassive, Steve and Bruce wore identical looks of worry on their face, and Thor had a solemn, noble look that probably would make any girl swoon.

The Avengers looked at Loki, who nodded tightly. "Three," he said. "Two…One."

Tony gasped sharply, and he had an uncomfortable, sinking feeling in his stomach. He blinked, and he was no longer standing on his Tower.

He was standing on a barren piece of land that was charred black, with odd formations of rocks and a dry, musty smell in the air. He looked over at Thor for confirmation that this was the spot.

Thor was nodding slowly. "Good job, Loki," he said, sounding slightly impressed, then he froze.

Two sharp, twin knives were forming in each of Loki's hands, each as long as his arm. "Loki…" he began warningly, gripping Mjolnir tightly. But Loki did not look at him, instead, his eyes were fixed on the object in front of him.

It was a Chitauri.

Tony held out the palm of his hand, but Loki was too fast. His knives were a silver blur as they effectively slit the Chitauri's throat. Tony gaped at him.

"I thought we decided you weren't to have a weapon," said Steve grimly. Loki turned back to look at him. "You can't expect me to allow myself to be completely defenseless," was all the reply.

There was nothing they could really do about it, because Loki could just make another one. Just to be safe, Clint trained his arrow on Loki's back. Loki didn't seem to be worried.

"Thanos is this way," he said, and the Avengers followed him warily. They met with a couple of Chitauri on the way, but Loki put them out of action, and Natasha took a several down too.

The walk wasn't particularly long—just a couple of minutes or so. Tony hovered slightly above the others, flinching slightly at every little sound.

Far in the distance, Tony could make out a small, dark blob. "Is that.." he began, but Loki had already anticipated his question.

"Yes," he responded. "It's Thanos. On his stone chair."

Then Loki muttered something under his breath, and before Tony could say anything, he got the same, uncomfortable sensation he'd got when Loki had teleported them. He blinked, and suddenly he was standing somewhere else.

He was still on the same planet, Tony noted, but now….he was standing in front of the dark blob Loki'd declared was Thanos. Except Thanos was anything but a dark blob now.

He was purplish-blue and heavily muscular, dressed in golden armor as he sneered down at them all. Tony glanced around, and was relieved to see it wasn't just him in front of Thanos, for apparently Loki had teleported the other Avengers too.

Speaking of the god of mischief….where was he?

Tony scanned the area, and frowned as he saw Loki stand in front of them all, facing Thanos so his back was to them.

Yet he wasn't Loki with the dark green tunic on. Now, emerald light rippled over his as his outfit changed into his battle garb—his signature golden, horned helmet, with all fifty pounds of leather and gold armor and dark green cloth.

Warning bells went off in Tony's head. Loki shouldn't have this much magic, he'd just teleported all the Avengers. Twice. And he'd made weapons for himself too…Tony was no expert in magic, but something seemed a little wrong here.

He was about to comment in a low voice to Thor, who was standing next to him, when a sword appeared in Loki's hands, forming seemingly out of thin air.

Yet Loki didn't use the weapon to attack. To Tony's alarm, Loki looked up at Thanos. "Loki—" Tony began, but Loki cut him off again.

"Thanos," Loki called out loudly, voice echoing as he looked up at the Titan.

"I told you I will keep my bargain," Loki yelled up at Thanos, somewhat smugly.

"I see," rumbled Thanos' deep voice, causing shivers up Tony's spine. He smiled grotesquely at the heroes of Earth. "What have we here?"

Loki grinned wickedly. "I brought you the Avengers," he said. "Just as I promised."

—

Chapter Text

Crap.

Tony stared stupidly at Loki, the horrible realization sinking onto him. Loki had betrayed them.

It wasn't much of a surprise, and it shouldn't be, because Loki wasn't Tony's best friend. He wasn't even human, and Tony was an idiot for ever trusting Loki. He may not admit it to himself, but Tony had warmed a little towards Loki—despite the fact that the demigod had killed dozens of people.

And look where that landed them all.

Loki faded away until he was gone completely, teleporting himself to a little rock that jutted upwards, almost reaching Thanos. Were all those times Loki mentioned being tortured by Thanos just ploys, just fakes to earn the Avengers' sympathy?

Thor let out a howl of rage and fury, throwing the hammer with all his might at a smirking Loki who sneered down at them all. Loki barely moved, but Thanos flicked Mjolnir away almost carelessly. Tony's eyes got even bigger.

However this was going to end, Tony doubted it would end well.

—

"Attack," rumbled Thanos' voice.

Natasha whirled around, her short crop of ruby hair spinning. Her eyes widened as she cursed, staring at the dozens of Chitauri sneaking up on them, clambering over the rocks and swarming like ants.

"We're in a tough spot, guys," said Steve, and Natasha almost snorted. Well, that was the biggest understatement of the century.

"But we have the Hulk," he said, voice growing louder with conviction. Steve turned halfway. "Bruce, we need the Hulk to face Thanos. The rest of us need to hold of the Chitauri for a bit."

Natasha didn't bother watching the fascinating transformation of Bruce to the Hulk. She gritted her teeth, glaring at the Chitauri with determination.

"This reminds of me of Budapest," said Clint wryly.

—

Thanos watched idly as the Hulk charged. The Other Guy was somewhat smaller than Thanos, who obviously considered the whole ordeal hilarious.

A green fist swung towards Thanos' face, but the Titan caught the fist easily. "I thought you'd be stronger," commented Thanos. "But I'd say you disappointed me."

Thor watched through clenched teeth. He would go up to fight…yet his cursed hammer wouldn't respond to his call. Where the hell had Thanos thrown it?

Thor punched another Chitauri, hurling it towards a large jagged rock, a sickening crack sounding as the alien's neck snapped.

He whirled out a sword that he'd slipped into his boots. Loki had always demanded he should wear spare weapons no matter Thor went—even after Thor had gotten Mjolnir. Thor had scoffed at him, How would I ever lose Mjolnir? but had kept the sword just to humor his younger brother. After centuries of doing so, Thor had melted into the practice of keeping a spare, even if Loki wasn't there. As Loki had said, it never hurts to be prepared.

And being prepared had certainly done much good to him now.

But Thor couldn't turn his eyes from the battle between Thanos and Banner. It was a ferocious battle, and Thor wished he could help. But with a sinking heart, Thor realized that the Hulk was losing.

The Hulk was losing.

Things weren't looking too good for the Avengers.

—

Loki watched with mixed emotions as Thanos flung the Hulk against the ground over and over again.

On the plus side, Loki felt pleased at the revenge extracted out on the beast. It had been the Hulk who had defeated Loki, after all.

But on the minus side, the Hulk had been Loki's Plan B.

And unfortunately, he didn't have a Plan C.

His Plan A was rather simple. It was basically Loki defeating Thanos with his most complicated and deadly spells. Loki had thought it through quite thoroughly—because the first time Loki and Thanos met, Loki had just been chained up with acidic venom all over his back. His magic had been depleted by a great deal.

But Loki was the greatest sorcerer on Asgard, save Odin himself, and Loki would probably make the top five in all of the Nine Realms. If anyone should have a decent chance at defeated Thanos, it would be him.

Yet the slightest brush against Thanos' being had well-informed Loki that he had no chance of defeating the Titan. His adversary's body was far too strong for that. So Loki had done the only thing he could've done at the moment, which was seemingly flip sides.

But Loki would rather work with the Avengers than with Thanos, for every time Thanos looked at him memories that Loki would've rather stayed hidden were recalled.

Even if it killed him, Loki would destroy Thanos.

And fortunately, Loki had had a Plan B. The Hulk. But that plan seemed to be going downhill.

Thanos now had the Hulk under his foot and Loki watched, forcing his face to be impassive while inwardly his heart sank. There was no way the Hulk could win—and Loki had a feeling he knew what Thanos was asking him to do.

Loki didn't have much of a choice, really. Fluttering his eyes shut, Loki concentrated on the Hulk's rather simple but furious mind, and executed the same thing he'd done on Jane's mind.

By the look in the Hulk's eye, he was feeling the same elated, jubilant emotions as Ms. Foster. And the Hulk couldn't stay the Hulk if he wasn't angry. The green tinge to his skin faded, and his massive, muscular bulk shrunk to the smaller frame of the doctor.

Thanos had no mercy. He reached out a large fist and punched Banner straight in the chest, sending him flying across the rough terrain and smashing into a large rock. Banner landed with a sickening crunch as he slumped against the rock, unconscious. Maybe even dead.

"Bruce!" screamed Stark frantically, a blur of red and gold streaking by as the Iron Man flew over to the scientist. But Thanos wasn't willing to let him get there. The Titan punched him mid-flight, and though the Iron Man attempted to duck, the fist was too quick.

Stark went flying and crashed into an overcropping of rocks. Loki felt slightly guilty when Stark didn't rise, yet forced a mask of serene, exasperating calm over his face.

Then Loki reached out with his senses. Stark wasn't dead, but he was unconscious. The Iron Man suit had protected him from the brunt of the fall, but there were still injuries. After glancing quickly at Thanos, Loki slipped a small portion of his magic into Stark. There was no danger for the Iron Man anymore—Loki's magic would take care of the worst of the injuries. Loki knew the magic would return to him once it had done all it could do, so he turned his attention to Bruce.

The doctor was alive and unconscious as well. Well, alive wasn't really the word for it…more like clinging on to the last thread of life. Loki put a greater amount of magic into Banner because he needed it far more.

Then Loki turned over to what remained of the Avengers. He replenished Barton's arrow supply quickly, then glanced over at Thor. Thor was handling himself nicely with his spare sword, and anyway, Loki wasn't going to help him.

Romanoff was in a touch spot, surrounded on all sides by Chitauri. She was doing surprisingly well, whirling and kicking and punching and firing out of the guns in her hands and flinging knives at every chink in their armor. But she needed desperate help.

Loki couldn't help outrightly, because Thanos was sure to notice. So he murmured a powerful spell under his breath, one that would slow down everything around the object of the spell. Loki had cast it on himself many a time whenever he was surrounded. Basically, it moved everything around Loki in slow motion, so Loki could finish off his enemies quickly.

Romanoff started in slight surprise before taking advantage, and in a few moments a dozen Chitauri lay dead around her.

There were many Chitauri, but the Avengers were remarkable capable, even without the Hulk or Iron Man. It wasn't long before all the Chitauri had either fled or were lying helpless on the ground.

The Avengers looked defiantly at Thanos, no doubt planning their next attack. But instead of Thanos being angry, the Titan laughed.

"Not bad," his voice rumbled. The Titan tipped his head. "But I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill you…but I can't be bothered to kill such insignificant creatures." Thanos turned to Loki, and with a start, Loki understood what he had to do.

He had to kill the Avengers.

Loki's mind began to work instantly. Barton and Romanoff wouldn't be very hard to deal with, and the battle with the Captain offered a 70% chance of Loki winning. If he managed to defeat Rogers….Thor would be the biggest problem.

What would Thanos do if Thor overpowers me? wondered Loki, and the answer came instantaneously.

Of course.

Loki's mind worked at top rate, and it didn't take long for him to piece together some sort of plan. Some of it was just go with the flow and improvise, but most of it was mapped out. Well, there was his Plan C.

Thanos teleported Loki beside the Avengers, and before the furious mortal heroes could attack, Thanos fixated a golden force-field barrier around Rogers, Thor, and Barton. The three of them were trapped.

Leaving Natasha and Loki right next to each other.

Loki didn't bother waiting. He took the first attack, slashing at her with his knives. The Black Widow rolled blithely out of the way, and scarcely got to her feet before Loki struck again.

It was almost like a deadly dance, and Loki grudgingly admitted she was rather good. But she had no chance against Loki. Using his magic, Loki easily knocked her unconscious, and Romanoff slumped to the ground. She was out of the game.

Next Thanos released Barton, who charged him like an angry bull. The second battle went pretty much the same way as the fight with Romanoff, and Barton joined Natasha on the ground.

Mockingly crossing over their bodies, Loki met Steve head-on, whom Thanos had just released.

This fight was far more intense. Loki felt himself begin to lose the upper hand, and he wasn't going to agree to that. He was going to have to use his magic to help him out here. Loki couldn't knock Rogers out because his magic was strained after his liberal use earlier, so he tried a different tactic.

When Steve slashed ferociously at him, Loki retreated instead of attacking, stepping back to get some time to transform.

Loki felt the transformation take place—his body shrank, waist tightened, chest grew, hips widened, and he was dressed in a neat, white dress. His hair was still the same length, but it was softer and fluffier.

Loki was gone. In his place, stood Margaret Carter.

Steve staggered at the sight of her. Only Stark and Thor knew about his transforming abilities, and the Captain was caught off-guard. Rogers stumbled, and that slight falter in his pattern was what Loki was looking for.

Loki knocked the blade with all his force against the side of Rogers' head, and the Captain fell to the ground. "That was surprisingly satisfying," muttered Loki, straightening up.

Thor was now out of the cage that Thanos had set up. The god of thunder stood hesitantly, eyeing Loki with ferocity yet slight confusion at what to do.

Oh, Thor, thought Loki with a tinge of fondness. Even though Loki had knocked out his entire team, Thor still hesitated to attack him. What an absurdly Thor-ish thing to do.

But Loki needed Thor to attack him for his confused plan to work. "Damn you, Thor," he said under his breath, before hurling a hidden knife at Thor.

Thor dodged it, but leapt away, not wanting to fight. Loki wasn't going to let him go. Loki went on the offensive, forcing Thor to go on the defensive as the two brothers' knives flashed in a blur of silver.

"Why?" demanded Thor, ducking his head as he barely missed having a huge chunk of his nose taken out. "Loki, why…"

"Please don't," said Loki, voice breathy and coming in short gasps. "I'm really not in the mood to listen to the call to do the right thing."

Thor let out a dry bark of laughter. "Then what are you in the mood for? Killing me?"

Loki didn't bother replying, focusing his attention on Thor's sword. He needed Thor to defeat him, but he definitely didn't need Thor killing him, intentionally or non-intentionally.

But Thor seemed off his game today. After a quick examination, Loki realized with sinking dismay that Thor was wounded, on his right side. How the hell was Thor going to convincingly defeat him now?

Loki got an idea. There was a sword-move that Odin had taught the two of them, a clever move that required experience, agility and finesse. It was basically a feint to the left, but then the attacker executed a complicated pattern that disarmed his opponent's weapon.

Thor was undoubtedly impressed, but lacked the dedication to actually practice it. But Loki was a different story. After years of being beaten by Thor in sparring, Loki had studied and eventually, after months of practicing, had perfectly mastered the skill. It had filled Loki with pure satisfaction when for the first time in months, Loki had pinned Thor down in a matter of seconds.

But Thor could be determined when he wanted to, and Thor soon mastered the defense technique against that play, then went on to master the play itself. Loki learned the defense technique, and now that sword-play was a dead play, one that Thor and Loki scarcely used on each other, because they knew the defense techniques too well.

Yet what if Loki performed that play now? Not on Thor's right side—he was wounded there—but if Loki slashed at Thor's left, Thor would be sure to disarm Loki and the battle would be over.

So Loki did so. He feinted at Thor's right, then whirled around and attacked Thor's left. Thor easily deflected it, and Loki was left defenseless with a stinging palm. Warm, wet blood dripped from his hand at the shallow but fiercely bleeding cut.

Thor had Loki pinned down in a matter of seconds after that. Loki felt a tinge of irony as he stared up at Thor's face, remembering all those times he'd been pinned underneath Thor. Thor had been grinning then, and sometimes Loki would be too. But now, the look on Thor's face was far from a smile.

To Loki's surprise, Thor didn't demand Why? and How could you?. Instead, Thor searched Loki's green eyes desperately, giving him a harsh shake on his shoulders. "What?" Thor asked urgently.

Loki blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

Thor shook him again, voice low. "Don't play games with me now," he said, voice low and dangerous. "I know you wanted me to pin you down. What do you have planned?"

Loki felt a faint smile flicker over his face. Of course Thor would notice. "Thanos has sharp ears," he said softly, so quiet he barely heard himself. "I cannot tell you know…but just go with the flow."

Thor looked as though he wanted to ask far more questions, but he just nodded. Loki felt surprised yet again.

But Thanos was speaking now. "So you've defeated him, Odinson," boomed the Great Titan's voice. "But I always knew Laufeyson was weak."

Loki felt Thor stiffen, the thunder god's fingers digging painfully into Loki's shoulders. Yet it wasn't anger at Loki, it was anger at Thanos. So Thor had never truly lost that overprotective, elder-brotherly feelings for him. That realization made Loki feel slightly annoyed and embarrassed, but it also made him feel slightly warm and fuzzy inside.

Shaking off the conflicting feelings, Loki strained his ears to pick what Thanos was saying. "If you cannot defeat Odinson," said Thanos, "I guess I'll have to do it myself."

Loki sucked in his breath sharply, waiting for the feelings he knew would come. Gasping suddenly, Loki's lithe body shuddered, eyes fluttering shut.

He couldn't feel, couldn't breathe, couldn't think….

Someone was saying his name over and over again, calling him brother? Loki moaned, pressing a hand to either side of his forehead as a burning, hot-white pain exploded.

Oh god, it was too much. The pain, the nausea, it was tearing him apart from the inside out. Someone was grabbing his shoulders shaking him….by the Nine, oh stop the pain it was too much, ohgod ohgod ohgod….

Loki bit his tongue fiercely, forcing back a scream as he writhed in pain…..

Then stillness.

And when Loki opened his eyes, they were cerulean blue.

—

Thor scrambled to his feet, pulse rocketing at an alarming rate. Those unnatural blue eyes—yet they weren't the vivid blue that filmed Barton's eyes when Loki mind-controlled him….it was a different set of eyes altogether.

They were the eyes of Thanos.

This wasn't mind-control. It was something far more deadly, something only one practiced in the Dark Arts could master. It wasn't changing someone's will, this was entering someone else's body and moving through it, while the real owner of the body watched helplessly.

"Loki?" Thor tried half-heartedly. Even Loki could be reasoned with, but Thanos? That was different.

When all he got was a growl in response, Thor accepted the fact that though his creature may have Loki's bearing, it wasn't Loki.

Two, long knives flashed in the false Loki's hands. Thor attacked with his sword, but Thanos deflected it with casual grace.

The fight that followed held a terrible sort of beauty to it. Thanos seemed to know all of Thor's weaknesses and strengths, and he mercilessly abused his advantage of Thor's wound.

But it was only a matter of time before Thor was pinned down, his turn to be staring up at Loki. No, not Loki, Thor corrected himself. Thanos.

As the blade hovered over the delicate skin of Thor's neck, Thor could only stare at Thanos/Loki helplessly. "If you're still in there, Loki," Thor said, at an attempt at lighthearted humor, though he felt anything but, "I'd just like to let you know that this is an absolutely terrible plan."

Thanos just stared unfeelingly back at Thor. But Thor knew that Loki could hear what was going on, and see it, too. Loki had found this technique fascinating, and had spent hours gabbling on about it to Thor after thoroughly reading ever book about it. Although Thor just thought the whole thing was funny at the time, at least some of it had gotten into Thor's head.

Thor had always dismissed Loki so easily. Though he didn't want to admit it, Thor knew that Loki's words after Thor had snatched him from the Helicarrier had held some truth. Thor had felt that Loki was in his shadow in his youth unconsciously.

Thor had loved Loki with all his heart, that much was true. But Thor had never taken Loki very seriously. Thor never had to look hard for Loki because Loki was always there, in tagging behind Thor. Thor had underestimated Loki severely, and look where that had gotten him.

"Loki," Thor breathed softly, knowing Loki would catch every word. "If you're listening…I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry. Sorry for not—not being the older brother I should've been." Thor's voice choked. "Maybe if I get another chance, maybe I could do better." Thor fixated his eyes onto Thanos, imagining that the same, familiar, teasing green eyes were looking back at him.

"I just want you to know, Loki," said Thor, proud of how clear and unwavering his voice was. "No matter what….Never doubt that I love you."

Thanos stilled suddenly, and his eyes closed, though the knife remained steadily at Thor's neck. A strangled sound escaped Thanos/Loki's throat. Thor watched as he hissed in pain, muscles going rigid.

"By the Norns," gasped a familiar voice, and the eyes flickered open.

And they were a vivid green again.

"Loki!" exclaimed Thor, but Loki ignored him. His younger brother rolled himself off of Thor, and in an elegant motion Loki was off Thor, standing up with the knife that had been pressed against Thor's neck in his hands.

Now Loki looked at Thor again with a strange look on his face. It was faint amusement, mingled with regret and sadness. It was followed by a well-remembered quirk of his brow, and Thor got up as well, facing Loki.

Then Loki winced again, hand reaching up and grabbing the side of his head. "I haven't much time," said Loki, voice slightly breathless. "Thanos is coming back. I must hurry."

"Hurry and do what, brother?" demanded Thor uneasily.

Loki smiled faintly. He lifted the delicate, silver knife in his hands, eyeing it in the light. "Such a beautiful work of art," he murmured quietly. "At least it'll do the job nicely."

Thor shifted from one foot to another, his warning senses tingling. "What is going on, Loki?" he said.

Loki locked eyes with Thor, then whirled the blade around.

And placed it directly over his heart.

"No, Loki!" cried out Thor, but Loki closed his eyes, gripping the knife with serene calmness. "It's the only way," said Loki softly. "If I drive his knife into my chest…Thanos will be vanquished."

"But there must be some other way," ranted Thor frantically, reaching out form some bit of hope to cling on to. "What about your plan? You said you had a plan!"

Loki smiled again. "This was the plan," he answered simply, and then he drove the blade home.

Chapter Text

"Tony? You're alive!" exclaimed Bruce's delighted voice as he blearily opened his eyes.

Then the doctor frowned. "Or…we're both dead."

Bruce's eyes blinked up at Tony, who grinned despite himself. "Nope, buddy," he said cheerfully, heart light. "You can't get rid of me that easily. I'm very much alive."

"I can tell," Bruce mumbled, closing his eyes. A pause. "Did we win?" Bruce asked carefully.

"Thor's account was kind of jumbled up," admitted Tony, "and Thor was the only person conscious for the whole thing. Basically Loki double-crossed us…"

"…yeah, I sort of noticed," added Bruce dryly.

Tony went on. "…but it turns out he actually didn't double cross us, apparently he was triple-crossing Thanos," said Tony, scratching his beard in slight confusion. "Or whatever. Anyway, Thanos sort of possessed Loki for a moment, then Loki stabbed himself and Loki pretty much killed Thanos."

Bruce sat up sharply in bed, then winced as his injuries protested. "Do you mean Loki is dead?" Bruce asked.

Tony felt a twinge as he heard that. He and Loki had some twisted sort of relationship going—first Loki throws Tony out a window, then Loki takes an arrow for Pepper, then Loki tries to use Jane as a hostage to escape, and then Loki saves Jane. And then Loki knocks out half of the Avengers, and then Loki saves the entire world from destruction and peril.

Tony was pretty much done trying to figure out who owed who at this point.

Leaving all that aside, Tony found that he sort of liked Loki. Loki was fun to banter with, at least, and he wasn't a complete dick like some of those other super villains were.

Bruce was still waiting for an answer, so Tony hastily began to answer. "From what Thor said, yeah," said Tony, watching Bruce for a reaction. He sighed slowly. "Loki did a pretty good thing out there."

"I'll say he did," answered Bruce. "But what—" his head perked up. "Hey, Natasha."

The curly-haired redhead was standing behind Tony, grey-green eyes serious. "Come on, boys," she said. "You wouldn't want to miss this."

Tony was thrown off by the solemnity in her voice. "Did something happen?" he asked, but Natasha waved it aside.

"No," she replied. "Just something you might find interesting."

"But Bruce…" Tony began, voice trailing off. Yet before Natasha could reply, Bruce was already up, dark eyes bright. "I'm coming," he said, determination written all over him. Tony exhaled, but grudgingly gave his assent.

"What is it?" Tony asked, keeping in step with the scarlet-haired assassin.

Natasha glanced at him. "It's a letter," she said coolly. "But it's not the contents of the letter that much…it is mainly who it's from."

"Who?" asked Bruce curiously, but they were already in one of the many living rooms.

Natasha arched an eyebrow. "I'd best leave you two to read it and figure out," she remarked, before sweeping gracefully out of the room, hips swaying.

There was a crumbled up piece of paper on the low ottoman, and Tony walked over and picked it up, smoothing it out on his lap. The writing was very good, in long, flowing script.

"I left my glasses," said Bruce. "Read it aloud, Tony." And so Tony did.

Dear Heroes of Midgard,

Guess who it is? It's me! Loki! Oh my gosh, Loki? Gasp! Scream! Faint in shock!

Very well, forget the first line. I honestly had no idea how to start it off, and I don't have the little pink things that you Midgardians use to erase things. On to more important matters.

Yes, I'm alive. Are you all surprised? How did I do it? Well, I can't tell you how—it's too much for your puny mortal minds to comprehend. The important thing is that I'm alive.

I am writing this to inform you that I am no longer interested in your planet. Maybe you'll be reassured? Maybe you'll be wise and not believe the words that come from the God of Lies?

The point is, you won't be able to find me, anyway. Stark knows how I can shape shift. I could literally be the cashier at one of the little shop things here, and you wouldn't know. I'm basically telling you that if you leave me alone I'll leave you alone. Call this note an olive branch? A peace offering? I have no idea.

I guess you're waiting for an apology. A sorry, maybe? I have far too much pride for that, maybe only Stark's ego can rival mine. But I guess this is the best I can do: Maybe all mortals aren't a complete waste of space.

One more thing to say: Ice cream is the only useful invention made on Midgard.

There, I'm done. Hopefully, if fate has mercy on my sanity, I'll never cross paths with you again.

Signed,

The God of Mischief

Tony gaped at the letter. Bruce was in no better condition as they stared stupidly at the letter.

"I thought he was dead?" asked Bruce heavily.

Tony just stared at the letter. "I can't be sure it is actually him," he said, after a moment, "but it sure sounds like him."

"Did we still win, then?" asked Bruce, watching Tony.

Tony shrugged. "I still think it's a win-win situation, no matter how you look at it," he said firmly. "Earth has Thanos dead, Loki is alive—so Thor's happy—and all the other worlds out there are pretty happy too. So everyone's happy."

"Except Thanos," said Bruce.

Tony grinned. "Oh, yeah. Except for him."

—-

"Loki?"

Thor looked around hesitantly, gripping Mjolnir tightly.

Right after Thor had seen the letter, he'd recognized the handwriting instantly as Loki's. He'd returned to his room, only to feel the tug of a teleportation.

Now, Thor stood in the middle of a forest, alone. "Loki?" Thor called out again, voice growing louder in intensity. His eyes scanned the area. There were tall trees, and the ground was covered with moss, dead leaves, and grass. No one was in sight.

Now Thor was getting frustrated. "LOKI!" He hollered with all of his might. If this would've been a movie, birds would've fluttered out a tree.

"What the hell, Thor?" exclaimed a voice right next to him. "Kindly stop yelling in my ear, please."

Thor whirled around, elbow knocking into something soft and warm. "And it would be much appreciated if you didn't stab your elbow into my side," said a sardonic voice. Thor's heart leapt as his eyes locked on to a pair of familiar green ones.

"I knew you weren't dead!" he cried triumphantly.

"I just can't seem to stay dead, can I?" asked Loki rhetorically. He sighed. "I brought you here, Thor," he said, "just to let you know I'm alive. After reading that letter I sent, I've no doubt that you set your heart on searching everywhere to find me. Well, here I am—alive."

Loki turned and walked over to a tree, then leaned against the thick, sturdy trunk before sliding to the ground.

Thor watched Loki uncertainly, bursting with questions but unsure how to ask them. Should he go sit down with Loki?

Loki turned amused, teasing jade eyes to him, sensing Thor's dilemma and mocking him for it. What will you do? Loki's eyes questioned.

Thor didn't bother to ponder it, because there was no way he could find out what Loki himself wanted. So Thor walked over to Loki and slid down next to him.

Thor hadn't meant to sit so close, but years of sliding down next to Loki took over, and Thor bumped against Loki rather harshly. Their shoulders knocked together, Thor's broad, muscular one with Loki's narrow one.

Thor didn't pull away from the close contact, but waited for Loki to do so. But Loki didn't. Gingerly, Loki leaned closer, resting his weight on Thor's shoulder, slowly at first, then relaxing into the familiar movement. Thor stilled, but didn't comment.

"Do you want water?" asked Loki abruptly. Thor just shrugged, and watched with fascination as green light danced to form a mug filled with clear, cold water.

"Here," said Loki, handing it to Thor. Thor took a few small sips, then found out he wasn't that thirsty. Thor handed it back to Loki, who downed all of it in a few gulps.

Silence. Thor looked at Loki, who was staring out into the woods, a wicked smirk playing at his lips. "I suppose you want to know why I'm not dead," Loki said finally. "It was quite simple, actually. After I stabbed myself, I teleported you and your mortal friends back. Then, I teleported myself off here. I was almost dead, barely alive, you know."

"I don't know how it worked," Loki confessed, fingers twisting around several blades of grass. "But magic attracts magic, so I'm assuming some of Thanos' magic remained with me. That was what healed me, I'm guessing...well anyhow, I'm here now."

"You're here now," Thor repeated, as if saying it again would make the fact resolute. The two of them sat in silence, with Thor desperately trying to ignore the herd of elephants tramping around them.

"Your letter to the Avengers wasn't exactly apologetic," Thor stated wryly, throwing Loki a sideways glance. Loki smiled faintly.

"No, it wasn't," he admitted. "I wasn't feeling very apologetic at the time." He ran a hand through his tangled black hair. "But what I said about not wanting to conquer anymore is true."

Thor knew he was treading on very delicate ground here. "Is that so?" He asked, as nonchalantly as possible.

Loki still didn't look at him, but another amused smile was playing at his lips, as though he knew what Thor was trying to do. "Don't try to trick the God of Tricks," Loki said.

"You want to know why I'm not interested in conquering?" asked Loki when Thor said nothing. Loki wasn't expecting an answer, so Thor didn't comment, but waited for the reply.

"The ruling thing, it is terribly tedious," remarked Loki after a pause. "Everybody wants your help, and you have to juggle dozens of things on your plate. I hadn't imagined it to be like that." Thor remained silent, knowing without asking that Loki was referring to the period when Thor was banished to Midgard.

Loki snorted suddenly. "To be honest," he said, "I just thought someone would be feeding me grapes."

Thor grinned. "I could feed you grapes, if you'd like."

Loki mock-shuddered. "I'll pass, thanks."

Silence reigned for another few moments, before Loki broke it. "Besides," he said, "ruling a planet that does not want to be ruled is even harder. Juggling the rebellions, you in all your righteous, noble, annoying fury, and that stupid sword organization..."

"...SHIELD," Thor corrected absently.

"Whatever," dismissed Loki. "The point is, I don't want to conquer Midgard anymore. Or any other realm, for that matter."

"That...is good," answered Thor, unable to think of something better to say.

Loki sighed. "You'd best be going now, Thor," said Loki, leaning forward so he was no longer resting on Thor, so that Loki faced Thor for the first time. Loki's gaze was cool and calculating, not hostile, but it wasn't warm and opening, either.

Thor felt his heart sink. But he was a fool-he couldn't expect Loki to stick around with him forever.

"I have a little while," he answered lightly, hoping Loki got the hint. Thor wanted to stay here, with Loki. To pretend that nothing was wrong between them, that it was just another day for the two brothers.

Loki searched his face, and what he found there must have satisfied him, for Loki leaned back again onto Thor. "Very well then, brother," said Loki, and Thor felt his heart skip a beat when Loki called him brother again.

"What are you doing after this?" said Loki, and Thor realized this was his attempt at small talk.

Thor shrugged. "I'm a little hungry," he said, "and I'll probably go grab a bite to eat."

Loki smirked. "'Grab a bit to eat', Thor?" Loki mimicked. "I'd be surprised if there's a loaf of bread left on this realm after you're done eating."

"I'd be surprised if there's a sweet left on Midgard with your sweet tooth," retorted Thor, realizing too late that Loki had just goaded him into a verbal sparring match, where Loki usually was victorious.

Loki grinned. He was clearly enjoying this. "Well, I'd be surprised if..." That was how far he got before Thor covered Loki's mouth with his hand, preventing Loki from speaking. Sometimes, that was the only way Thor could beat Loki in a verbal bashing.

Automatically, Loki licked Thor's hand, a pure little-brother reflex that made both of them freeze.

But the spell of silence didn't last for long. Thor broke out into hearty peals of loud laughter, while Loki screwed his face up in disgust. "Ugh, who knows where that's been," mumbled Loki, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Thor's laughter faded away, and there was quiet once again.

But then Loki was up on his feet again, looking down at Thor who got up as well, but not so gracefully or agilely.

"I suppose I must go," said Thor somewhat reluctantly. Loki nodded slightly, watching Thor.

"You will keep in touch?" Thor tried. Loki nodded slowly. "Perhaps," Loki replied, but Thor knew that was a lie.

"Wait," said Thor suddenly. "Before you send me away..." His voice trailed off, a faintly sheepish look on his face. "...give me a hug," Thor said before he could stop himself. He just really wanted to hug Loki, one last time.

Loki blinked. "A hug, Thor?" Loki asked disbelievingly.

Thor shrugged. "It's the least you can do," he pointed out. "I probably won't see you for a while, anyway."

Thor had been expecting Loki to scoff him off, but great was his surprise when Loki complied. "Fine, brother," acquiesced Loki reluctantly.

Thor needed no further invitation. He gathered all one hundred and seventy pounds of Loki into his arms quickly, before he could rethink anything. Loki was stiff, muscles rigid and tense, but warmed into the embrace gradually.

It felt so comfortable, with Loki's head resting against Thor's chest, arms wrapped around each other. Thor didn't want to move.

"You know, Thor," murmured Loki softly, "this is never going to be real. It's a dream, a fantasy. It's not reality."

Loki tried to pull away, but Thor held him all the more tighter. "Follow your dreams," quoted Thor.

Loki blanched. "That was...terrible, Thor."

"I know. I felt myself gag."

Loki's voice turned more serious. "I'm not joking anymore, Thor," said Loki, struggling to escape so he could meet Thor's eyes. But Thor's grip was steel-like and firm, forcing Loki's head to remain on Thor's chest.

Thor closed his eyes, resting his own head on Loki's black-haired head. He didn't want to hear what Loki was going to say. Maybe if he closed his eyes hard enough, Loki would stop speaking. Maybe.

But Loki could be insistent when he wanted to. The younger brother had resigned himself to the fact that he couldn't escape Thor's grip, but he kept speaking anyway.

"Thor," Loki said, firmly but gently, "I want you to know this. Things will never be the way they were before, no matter what you do." Loki sighed. "Thor, you big, stubborn oaf. Look at me."

Thor knew that if he didn't, Loki would just teleport himself out of his reach, so Thor relaxed his grip on Loki. Thor eyed Loki almost defiantly, while Loki watched him with quiet sadness in his eyes. Loki was tall, but he'd never been quite as tall as Thor, so he had to look up a little.

"I have no home, Thor," said Loki, almost pleadingly, needing Thor to understand. "Earth is no place for me to be. In Asgard, I will be bound with chains in the deepest dungeon they have...and besides, Asgard will never accept me-she never had in the first place." He laughed without humor. "They would never accept a Frost Giant runt."

Thor's grip on Loki's shoulders tightened. "Take care how you speak, brother," he said, voice tense and low. "Loki, you are not a runt."

"Let's not go into this now," dismissed Loki. "But I know of what I say."

"What about Earth?" Thor attempted. "You just saved their entire world, Loki. Surely you're over-exaggerating the situation."

Loki shook his head. "You don't understand really, do you?" he said, not expecting an answer. "Oh well, let me put it to you this way." Loki locked eyes with Thor. "Do you love me?" he asked abruptly.

Thor frowned in surprise. Well, that question had an easy answer. "Yes," Thor replied honestly. "Of course I do."

"How would you feel if someone killed me in cold blood, without giving me any chance to fight back, and for no reason at all except for his amusement?" Loki questioned.

Thor didn't want to answer that, having the uneasy feeling that all of Loki's questions would lead to an inevitable outcome that Loki desired. But Thor wasn't going to lie, and anyway, Loki would probably know if Thor was lying. "Furious," said Thor truthfully.

"And what if my murderer supposedly saved Asgard?" Loki pursued relentlessly. "There is no evidence, just the words of some-and what if the murderer comes by, and can't even remember my name or what I look like? Would you forgive him?"

Thor was shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Noooo," Thor dragged out reluctantly. Loki looked triumphant, having proved his point.

"Saving the entire world doesn't make up for the murder of one innocent life," said Loki, and Thor looked away from Loki's intense, vivid green eyes, unable to hold their direct gaze.

"Then I'll come with you," Thor declared stoutly, but Loki just laughed dryly.

"And abandoned your duties as the Crown Prince?" asked Loki. "No, brother. I know you better than that."

Thor sighed wearily. "The Avengers will wonder where I've gone," he said at last.

Loki nodded, gaze fixated on Thor. "I'll send you on your way," he said. "Any last words?"

Thor, for the life of him, had no idea what to say. Something meaningful? Something funny?

"I love you," said Thor finally. "I know it may not seem like it at times, for our relationship has been through some...trying times, but I love you, Loki."

Loki smiled faintly. "I know."

And as Thor felt the gentle tug of a teleportation, maybe it was wishful thinking, maybe it was the wind, but Thor swore he heard Loki murmur back softly, "I love you too, Thor."

)()()()()()()(

Loki took a great big spoonful of the mint chip ice cream, straight out of the carton. He was settled comfortably in the branches of a tree in the forest he'd brought Thor into, swallowing spoonful after spoonful of the cold, creamy, sweet goodness of mint chocolate chip ice cream.

There was a dull ache where he'd stabbed himself. It was almost completely healed, but Thor's tight, fierce hugging had caused a throbbing pain. Loki had had far too much pride to ask Thor to be a bit gentler.

Loki swallowed another spoonful of ice cream, mind straying. Thor had so readily been willing to forgive him...was it all really that simple?

It made Loki wonder, what exactly was he? A hero, or a villain?

Heroes and villains were terribly complicated. You can't have one without the other, like you can't have good without evil, light without the dark, kindness without cruelty, or love without hate.

Heroes were noble, brave, and selfless. They had a fair sense of right and wrong, and usually chose the right thing to do. Thor was a hero. Captain America was a hero. And hell, even Stark was a hero. Loki was selfish, lied, cheated, and tricked. Heroes didn't do that. Heroes didn't kill dozens of people and try to take over worlds, so scratch that. Loki definitely wasn't a hero.

Was he a villain, then? Villains were cruel, merciless, and usually didn't feel love. Villains didn't needlessly take an arrow for the lover of their enemy, they didn't self-sacrifice themselves to save a world, and they definitely didn't love their brother the way Loki did.

Loki wasn't a hero, or a villain. What was he, then? He was Loki, which pretty much meant if he was on his own side. If his side lined up with the heroes' side, then well and good. If his side lined up with the villains' side, then Loki couldn't do anything about that.

But Loki knew he would never be the heroes you read about in fairytales. He would never be Thor, or the noble King of Asgard he'd always wanted to be.

The God of Mischief. The Liesmith. That was all he'd ever be, no matter how hard he tried to change that.

And at that moment, Loki decided he didn't really care.

THE END

—