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Chapter Text

Disclaimer: The Avengers and all its characters are not mine, were never mine, and will never be mine.

...

The Path To Hell and Redemption: Part One – Return to Earth

...

The river flowed sluggishly towards the mouth of the bay. The sun was bright in the sky, and a strong wind sent leaves skipping down the banks. High above the river on a bridge, seven people gathered together, five standing in a loose formation, the other two facing them.

Loki's bright green eyes narrowed in anger. His black-and-green leather garments were hot in the sun, and the wind ruffled his hair. His lips twisted into a hateful sneer as the idiots who called themselves the Avengers stared at him, with expressions ranging from incredulous to amused. Thor stood next to him, dressed in his usual conspicuous armor, a heavy hand on his shoulder that Loki would have liked to shrug off; he knew, however, that Thor would just put it back, to make sure he didn't try to run.

"And Odin thought it was a good idea to keep him here?" Rogers asked, one of those who looked incredulous.

"I will remain to ensure his cooperation in this matter," Thor replied, apparently thinking that Loki's behavior was what prompted the question.

"Oh, come on! How much trouble can he get into like that?" Stark giggled. Obviously, he was one of the amused.

Loki glowered at him, but didn't say anything. He silently vowed that he would show the Iron Man just how much trouble he could be.

Thor glanced down at Loki, as if guessing his thoughts. Loki deliberately avoided his gaze, instead gauging the Avengers before him. The Captain looked uncertain but understanding – follows orders; sickeningly honorable – and glanced at his colleagues in silence. Standing next to him was Stark – reckless, sarcastic, smart – giggling madly. Then was Romanoff –watch out for tricks – her arms folded, her gaze boring into his, her face expressionless. Barton was beside her –use his hatred as a weapon – standing entirely too still for a normal human being. And last was Banner – do not provoke – bouncing nervously on his toes as he looked at Thor and Loki.

"I don't like it," Romanoff said, her gaze never moving from Loki's face.

Rogers glanced at her. "We did get orders from Fury."

And you always follow orders, Loki thought, but decided against speaking at this time.

"Still don't like it," Romanoff replied.

"My friends, I know that this is difficult, and that I ask too much from you, but-"

Thor took a step forward, taking his hand off of Loki's shoulder. Loki saw his chance. A well-aimed kick to the back of Thor's knee sent the god of thunder sprawling. Loki ran towards the edge of the bridge; if he could get into the river, perhaps he could disappear into Midgard and find a way off...

He heard feet pound the pavement behind him, and soon two thick arms wrapped around his chest, rising him bodily from the ground. Loki kicked his feet and started to scream in anger but stopped when he heard how squeaky it was.

"Whoa there, little fellow!" Rogers exclaimed as Loki nearly wriggled out of his grasp.

Little fellow!? The Captain would be the first to die. After Thor, of course.

"Loki!" Thor thundered warningly, joining them.

"You can hardly expect me not to try," Loki spat, finally freeing himself of Rogers only to have his arm caught in the vice of Thor's grip. The rest of the Avengers gathered around.

"Oh yeah, this is going to work well." Banner shook his head, trailing after the rest of them. "Let me see if I've got this straight; Odin has put a spell on Loki so that he gets younger every time he uses magic?"

"And didn't tell me," Loki muttered under his breath.

"Yes." Thor nodded, apparently not hearing Loki's complaint. "As you can see, it does work."

"Yeah, I can see that. He looks what? Ten? But it doesn't prevent him from using his magic," Romanoff said, stepping forward. "What's to keep him from wrecking havoc?"

Loki bared his teeth and grinned at her.

"Magic is a powerful part of our beings," Thor replied to her, frowning at Loki's grin. "While the spell does not keep him from regaining the magic he spends, it will not rejuvenate as quickly, leaving him vulnerable. That and as a child he is more susceptible to even your weapons."

The grin disappeared from Loki's face. Barton hadn't said a word, but at Thor's last statement a cold smile spread across his face. Loki knew he was thinking of all the ways he could get his revenge for being in the demigods employ. Strange, that a man who could kill so coldly let his emotions on his face so easily.

"Which is another reason I will be staying," Thor continued, and this time there was a trace of warning in his voice. "I will be keeping Loki from causing trouble on your world, but I will also allow no harm to come to him. He is still my brother."

Loki rolled his eyes, letting them all know what he thought of that statement, but noted with a little relief that Barton's grin had slipped. Loki let the assassin know that he had noticed by raising his eyebrows in a challenging manner.

"This isn't the best place to be having this discussion," Rogers said, glancing at a jogger who ran by, staring openly. "We had better get back to Stark Tower."

"Whoa, who said anything about my tower?" Stark protested, frowning. "The top floor is still all bashed in from the last time he was there!"

Loki winced as the memory came back to him.

"I said I was sorry," Banner muttered to Stark.

"Fury gave us instructions that we are all so stay at the tower for the time being," Rogers replied. "Didn't you read-"

"Eh, it was boring," Stark replied with a nonchalant shrug. "Besides, I was too eager to see Little Loki. He's kind of cute, isn't he?"

"I am not cute!" Loki exploded. Forget the captain. Stark would be the first to die. Before Thor. Stark snickered, and the rest of the Avengers all got small smiles on their faces as well, some amused, some mocking.

"Let's go," Rogers ordered, turning away quickly. The rest followed suit. Thor dragged Loki along with him. The group got into two vehicles with blacked-out windows and headed for Stark Tower.

Chapter Text

As soon as the Avengers reached Stark Tower, Romanoff and Barton headed to the gym, while the others escorted Loki to what would be his room, at least temporarily. As Tony locked the door and told Jarvis to keep an eye (and every other type of surveillance he was programmed with) on the demigod, he thought about how he could increase security. The last thing he wanted was for Loki to get his little hands on an Iron Man suit.

Once Loki was safely locked away, Tony led Thor, Rogers and Banner to the guest kitchen. It was ordinary looking with the typical pale tile floor, granite countertops, buffet table and, of course, the big screen TV hanging on the wall. Rogers sat at the table, slinging his duffle bag onto the floor next to his feet.

"So, how long is this going to last?" Tony asked Thor, grabbing four glasses and a bottle of scotch.

"I do not know," Thor replied glumly, remaining standing while the others sat. He strode to the windows that looked out at New York city. His huge shoulders slumped forward. "This is only containment while my father debates with the council what Loki's punishment should be. To be fully truthful with you, my friends, we did not return to earth only to keep Loki from attempting escape. It is also for his protection. Many people of Asgard are crying out for his blood."

He turned back to them, and Tony saw the hurt in Thor's eyes. Quickly, he busied himself pouring drinks and handing them out. Rogers took his, though he didn't drink it. Just as well, Tony thought, given that the man couldn't actually enjoy it. Banner likewise didn't drink.

"I don't get it," Rogers said after a moment of silent contemplating. "Why would the Asgardians care what Loki did here?"

Thor downed his drink in a single gulp. "They do not," he replied bitterly. "Earth has become the center of their cry but in truth I do not believe that any of them truly care what Loki did to your realm. But he did try to kill me, the warriors three and the Lady Sif when he... when I was banished and Father was sleeping. And there is more."

"More?" Banner frowned.

"The people are not just angry with Loki's actions; they hate his being."

Tony poured Thor another drink, frowning. "What do you mean by that?"

Thor was clearly reluctant to reply, downing his drink again. Tony wondered whether he should have Pepper pick up some extra cases of alcohol before she came home... He winced. Pepper. Hopefully Fury had told her that Loki was coming for a brief visit...

"Loki was raised as their prince, as the son of their king and queen," Thor said quietly. "But he was not born to them; he is of Jötunn blood. Hatred of the Jötunns runs deep among my people, and they feel betrayed to have served and loved one in the guise of a prince. Loki's punishment is not simply a punishment for his actions, but a punishment for what he is; and a punishment on my parents for bringing a Jötunn into their family. They have forgotten the wars Loki fought and the deeds he did in defense of Asgard."

Silence ensued. Thor stood still, holding his empty cup and staring at the floor. Tony felt a twinge of sympathy; he couldn't imagine what it would be like to fight alongside a brother for thousands of years only to have that brother suddenly start trying to kill you. Still, he had no sympathy for Loki. He had made his own choices and dug his own pit. Tony glanced at Rogers and Banner to find them both staring down into their drinks as if something very important was in them.

"I do not expect you to show compassion or kindness to my brother," Thor said, breaking the silence. "But I do ask that you treat him with civility."

"I think I'll be avoiding him," Banner replied with a wry smile. "The 'other guy' got pretty agitated just seeing him. It's probably best if I stay away."

Thor nodded once, and continued to stare at the floor. Tony took a long draft of his drink, and shrugged.

"As long as he's in the tower he won't go hungry. Somebody probably better have a good talk with the assassins though. I doubt that Barton is capable of being civil towards Loki right now," he said casually. "But let's get to the important stuff; rooming arrangements!"

"Rooming arrangements?" Rogers repeated, a small, long-suffering grin on his face.

"I've got to have someplace to put you lot," Tony replied. "Obviously, Banner has his room, and Thor you can take the room across from Loki's. Cap, you can have the room to the left and Barton and Romanof... they can take the rooms on the far end of the floor."

"What rooms would those be?"

Tony jumped a foot into the air and turned. He hadn't heard Romanoff enter the kitchen. She stood with her arms crossed, gazing with impunity at the men.

"The ones farthest away from Loki's," Tony told her.

"I don't think that's such a good idea." Romanoff walked behind the counter and got herself a glass, which she held out to Tony for a drink. "We're supposed to be keeping an eye on Loki. How can we do that if we're on the other side of the floor?"

Tony shifted nervously, uncertain how to proceed. "I was just thinking that... you know..."

Romanoff rolled her eyes. "We're not going to try to kill him, Stark. Like I said, we're supposed to keep an eye on him. That's all we'll do, I assure you."

"Thank you," Thor said softly, and by the relief in his voice Tony could tell that even with his earlier warning he had been concerned about the assassins. "I know that this is difficult to ask all of you, but especially-"

"As to the matter of food," Romanoff interrupted. "How is that going to be arranged?"

"Pepper likes to have everyone in the house eat together," Tony said. "We can figure out a schedule that works for everybody. Jarvis is a great cook, so you can just let him know whatever dietary requirements you have."

"And what about Loki?" Rogers asked.

"He can get served in his room."

"Which brings me to another point," Romanoff said, and she sat down at the table next to Banner. "How good is your security?"

"It's the best that I can come up with. Although it really is more designed to keep people out, so I'll have to make a few adjustments to keep Loki in."

Romanoff nodded once.

"Any other questions?" Tony looked around, and when none were forth coming he nodded in satisfaction. "All right, the gym is two floors down, the theatre is right above us, but there's a TV room for less formal viewing down the hall and to the left. Obviously, this is the kitchen. Each room has a private bathroom suite, and there is a laundry room somewhere."

"It's just past the Rec room that way," Banner gestured.

"There's a Rec room on this floor?" Tony asked in surprise.

Banner rolled his eyes. "With a pool table and a dart board and a bar."

"Pepper does the decorating," Stark muttered as everybody gave him amused looks. "Which reminds me... Jarvis?"

-Yes, sir?-

"When is Pepper due to come home?"

-She is pulling in now, sir.-

"Right," Tony grimaced. "I'd better go talk to her and make sure she knows what's going on."

"And I'd better go tell Barton the arrangements," Romanoff said, standing. She left her drink on the table.

"Oh, Cap, I almost forgot. Do you need a ride anywhere to pick up your stuff?" Tony asked.

"Nope," Rogers replied, gesturing to the duffle bag. "I've got everything I need."

Tony frowned at the duffle bag. It was impossibly tiny to contain everything that a man could need. He shrugged, turning away and heading out to face Pepper. He very sincerely hoped that Fury had told her that Loki was going to be their houseguest but somehow he doubted it... the director still hadn't forgiven him for hacking into his files.

#

Pepper had been in many a bad situation. Missed deadlines, bad publicity, people trying to kill her... She had worked for Tony Stark for years, after all, and was now dating him. If that didn't make her a glutton for punishment, she wasn't sure what would

Maybe this, she thought with a wry shake of her head. She silently stood beside Tony as the elevator swiftly whirled upwards to the guest floor. Tony had spent three hours explaining to her what had happened in the eight hours she had been at Stark industries, and then she had spent another two wrapping her head around it. Then she had told Jarvis to assemble everybody in the guest kitchen – Loki included – and headed up.

"Is everyone gathered, Jarvis?" she asked as the elevator stopped.

-They have assembled, Miss Potts.-

"Thank you."

"Pep, are you sure about this?" Tony asked. "Couldn't you at least tell me what you're thinking?"

Pepper smiled reassuringly, but didn't speak. Just before she stepped into the kitchen she took a deep breath to steel herself.

The Avengers sat quietly around the table, carefully not glaring at Loki, except for Bruce, who was standing a little apart. Loki was seated beside Thor. Pepper was surprised. Tony had told her that he looked like "a ten-year-old who wants to cut us open and watch us die slowly while being absolutely adorable" but she hadn't completely believed it. But there he stood, a scowl on his face looking every bit like a normal scowling ten-year-old –albeit not wearing normal clothing. Pepper wasn't sure what to think.

"Thank you all for gathering," she stared. "Tony has informed me of the situation. Since we will all be living under one roof, I have decided to lay down some rules that everybody will be expected to follow."

She held the gaze of each other the Avengers, making certain that especially Tony and Loki were paying attention. Tony gave her an innocent look. Loki looked intrigued despite himself. He opened his mouth, but Pepper raised her hand, cutting him off.

"Nobody is to say anything until I am finished. And when I am, I will allow each of you to voice your concerns. Understood?"

Pepper looked around again, waiting for each of them to nod before starting.

"Rule one: meals will be eaten together. Breakfast is at eight, lunch at noon, and supper is at five. If you are not here, you don't eat, except for circumstances that take you out of the tower." Pepper gauged the reactions her first rule had caused. With the exception of Barton and Loki they all looked bemused. The two aforementioned looked slightly hostile.

"Rule two; no weapons at the table. Rule three: everybody's room is private. You do not enter them without previous permission. Rule four: no fighting except in the gym and under controlled conditions."

Pepper paused again, this time because Tony had raised his hand. She contemplated her options for a moment, before fixing her gaze on her boyfriend. "Yes?"

"I understand the rules and everything, but why is he here?" Tony asked, pointing to Loki.

Pepper clasped her hands, readying herself for the storm that was sure to follow her next words. "Because these are rules that I expect him to follow as well. Loki will be given free access to everything on this floor."

Silence.

"What?" Barton and Loki demanded in unison. They briefly glared at each other before turning their gazes back to Pepper.

Pepper responded with what she liked to think of as her trademark calm smile. All of the Avengers (plus one Little Loki) were staring at her as if she had lost her mind. Some part in the back of her head, she was staring at herself like that as well.

"Access will be limited to this floor exclusively, but there isn't any point in keeping him locked up in a single room, as I imagine he'd be able to get out just as easily as stay in."

Loki shrugged, somehow looking both sour and pleased.

"Pep-" Tony started, but Pepper didn't let him.

"The six of you are grown adults-"

"I am an adult as well!" Loki protested.

"And this is my house-"

"Our house," Tony muttered.

"And as such what I say goes, and I say that Loki is free to live on this floor – so long as he doesn't go into anybody else's private rooms, or breaks things, or tries to escape. Understood?"

Pepper met the gazes directed at her. Barton was furious, Natasha's brows were furrowed, Tony looked confused, Rogers likewise, Thor was both uncertain and grateful, Loki looked slightly murderous, and Banner was the only one who looked as though he didn't disagree with Pepper. That's not to say that he looked like he agreed, but he looked thoughtful.

"Which reminds me. We'll have to get the two of you," here she frowned at both Thor and Loki, "some clothes that won't make you stand out. All right. Now. Back to the rules."

Chapter Text

Loki lay down on his bed, fingers laced behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. Stark's woman had surprised him when she announced that he would have free range over the floor. He couldn't understand her motivation. Was she deliberately giving him a route to attempt escape so that the humans could punish him severely when he did?

He had to admit that the woman had him stumped. He couldn't believe that she had done this out of kindness. She seemed too intelligent for that. Of course, looks could be deceiving.

"What are you up to, Miss Potts?" he whispered aloud. He stared at the ceiling for a while longer, but no answers came to mind.

He pushed himself up and gazed around his room. It was large and comfortable enough – again not the cage he had expected. The bed was far too big for him in his current state, flanked by oak nightstands with a matching bureau on the opposite end of the room. One wall was a large wardrobe that had a full-length mirror on the door. The color scheme was neutral and fairly soothing. He hadn't gone into the bathroom yet, but he imagined it would be just as nice.

Perhaps it was not blatantly less security that had caused Potts to order him access to the whole floor. Loki frowned as he walked to the door. If he had been confined to one room, then the Avengers would have been slightly more relaxed. But now, he was certain that at least one person would be posted outside his room at all time.

He nodded, satisfied with that answer. They will be more wary, and my escape will be less easily achieved.

Pleased at his conclusion, Loki returned to the bed and reached inside his jacket for the one thing he had been permitted to bring from Asgard. It was a book, black leather bound with gold filigree tracing the edges. He ran his fingers over the smooth, worn surface and allowed himself to forget everything that had happened in his life and simply exist with the book in his hands.

Sighing, Loki returned the book to its place next to his heart. He was uncertain what he should do now. Of course, escape was necessary, but not yet. He would have to observe the Avengers, pry open their weaknesses and choose his time wisely.

But for now, why not have a bit of harmless fun?

#

Steve examined the Rec room, impressed despite himself. The sun was almost set, and the electric lighting in the Rec room was slightly yellowed, reminding him of the days of his youth. The pool table was more elaborate than any he had seen before, and the dart board looked like it had never been used, and he wasn't certain how to use the air hockey table, but it was nice all the same. The bar was empty (something Stark promised he would rectify the next day) but that didn't bother Steve.

He was playing pool by himself, mulling over the events earlier in the day (seriously, what was Miss Potts thinking?) when he heard footsteps approaching. Loki, shadowed by Romanoff, entered the room. He glanced over the games for a moment before sauntering over to the dartboard. Steve felt awkward in the silence, but had nothing to say and so went back to his game.

"Are these for throwing?" Loki asked, reaching for the darts.

Romanoff strode forward, and snatched the darts out of his grasp. "Not by you."

"But Miss Potts said that I was allowed-"

"Miss Potts isn't as smart as I thought she was."

Loki laughed. "Are you afraid of letting me have sharp pointy objects, Agent Romanoff?"

Romanoff stared down at him and didn't reply. She folded her arms across her chest, her black leather jacket hugging her frame loosely.

Loki shrugged and turned away. He clasped his hands behind his back and meandered through the room, inspecting everything closely. He seemed to be immune to the poisonous look from Romanoff. Steve tried to ignore the demigod, but it grew increasingly difficult when Loki stopped to watch him.

"What is the purpose of this?"

Steve glanced up briefly. "To get the balls in the pockets."

"Why?"

"Because that's the rules of the game."

"Why?"

Steve didn't reply. He sighted down the cue and was about to take the shot when Loki reached onto the table and picked up the ball that Steve had been trying to get. He inspected it as if it was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen.

"Put that back."

"Why?"

"Because it belongs there."

"Why?"

Steve glanced at Romanoff with a silent plea for help. She stepped up behind Loki and plucked the ball from his hand, setting it back down on the felt. Loki, grinning, picked it back up. Romanoff once again took it from him and set it down. He picked it up again. Romanoff grabbed his wrist and twisted it sharply, forcing Loki to release the pool ball.

Loki grunted in pain. Steve stepped forward to intervene, but Romanoff had already picked the demigod up by the collar of his jacket. She all but threw him onto a stool next to the bar. Loki straightened his clothes, giving Romanoff a look that was half-smug, half-annoyed.

"You don't have to be so rough," Steve muttered to Romanoff, walking around the pool table.

"Why not?" she replied.

Steve gave her a look that he hoped conveyed his meaning. When she didn't respond to it, he gestured in the vague downwards position of the gym. "Thor."

Romanoff contemplated Steve for a moment, and then slightly inclined her head. Steve took that as a 'you're probably right' type of nod. She stepped back and gave Loki a withering look. For his part, the demigod was looking positively delighted and so self-satisfied that Steve's solider instincts immediately started tingling.

"What are you so happy about?" he demanded.

Loki looked up at him and grinned. "Oh, I just had a dead mouse that I didn't know what to do with. So I put it in your jacket pocket."

Steve's reaction was instinctual, feeling his pocket. He didn't believe Loki, but as he touched his pocket he felt a lump. A lump that was the exact size that a dead mouse would be. With a strangled yelp, Steve tore off his jacket and tossed it away. A wadded up ball of tissue paper tumbled out of the pocket.

Loki laughed, and Steve glared at him.

"That's not funny," the captain said sternly.

"Yes it is," Loki countered. "That is very funny."

Steve snatched his jacket up off the floor and slung it over the counter, shaking his head at how easily he had been tricked. "Where would you get a dead mouse anyway?" he muttered to himself, snatching up his pool cue.

"On the bridge."

"Yeah," Steve muttered. "Right."

"I put it in your pocket, actually," Loki continued, smiling up at Romanoff.

Romanoff stared back at him coldly and didn't react. He continued to grin, and it unnerved Steve. It was sinking in just how bad of an idea it was to have Loki in the same building as the Avengers to beginning, let alone letting him have free reign to do as he pleased. It was all going to end in tears, if not blood.

"Aren't you going to check your pocket?" Loki asked Romanoff, looking for all the world an innocent ten-year-old.

"You can't play that trick twice in a row," Steve told him.

Romanoff glanced over at Steve, a strange look coming over her face. Moving very deliberately, she reached into her pocket... and pulled out a dead mouse.

Loki was overcome by a fit of laughter. Romanoff stood very still, holding the dead mouse by its tail. A muscle in her jaw twitched. Steve looked on in horror.

"If you'll excuse me," Romanoff said, overly calm as she looked at Steve. "I need to go wash my hands."

She left the room, still holding the dead mouse. Loki laughed as she walked out, and then settled back onto the stool, folding his hands in his lap and looking very pleased with himself. Steve shook his head, and wondered if it was wise to try to reason with Thor's brother. It can't hurt to try, he thought. We're all going to be stuck together for a while. Might as well try to get along.

"Look-" he started.

"Am I going to get a lecture, captain?" Loki asked innocently. "Something like: We're all stuck here together for an undetermined length of time. I might as well try to make the best of it, and to start off with I should probably not antagonise you and your allies... it would be best for us all if we all at least pretended to try to get along."

Steve hated to admit that it was pretty much exactly what he had planned to say.

"Well? How did I do?" Loki asked, smiling broadly. "Would I make a good Captain America?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because you're- never mind."

"Why?

"I need a new life," Steve muttered under his breath.

Loki heard him. "Why?"

"Just shut up."

"Why?"

"This is a bad idea."

"Why?"

Chapter Text

Everybody assembled for breakfast the next morning. Clint sat opposite the windows, keeping an eye both of the room and what was going on down below. Jarvis had made pancakes. An old man just got his pocket picked. Thor was gorging himself on the pancakes. The pickpocket got his pocket picked by the old man.

Natasha bumped him with her elbow, and Clint turned his attention fully to the room. Loki was sitting on the left of Thor, giving his brother disgusted looks and eating his own pancakes with the decorum of a Victorian housewife. He was sitting as far as he could from Thor. Clint was happy to see the evil demigod was less than pleased with seating arrangements.

"All right, today Tony and I are going to go get some earth clothes for Thor and Loki," Potts began, breaking the silence. "I understand that using magic... 'deages' you," she continued, looking at Loki. "But by not using it do you get older again?"

Loki viciously speared a pancake, belying the smile on his face. "This spell was not explained to me."

"Thor?"

Thor frowned at the question. "I do not know. I did not think to ask my father."

"Of course you didn't," Loki muttered, "because that would be the intelligent thing to do."

Clint could have grinned as Thor glanced sadly to his left. Loki antagonising Thor would only give Clint more of an advantage when he found a reason to kill him. It was only a matter of time before he found that reason, and if Thor wasn't feeling particularly inclined to vengeance that would be okay.

Natasha frowned at Clint, and he guessed that she could read his thoughts, as she so often did. She held his gaze for a moment. Don't push it, Clint, it warned. It's going to take a lot more than petty insults to turn Thor from Loki.

"Loki, that was unnecessary and rude," Potts said, fixing the demigod with a calm, strict gaze. "Apologise to Thor."

Loki looked affronted. "All I did was speak the truth."

"Apologise."

Loki snickered. "I will not."

"Then return to your room."

Clint suppressed a chuckle as Loki's eyebrows shot straight up. He was getting grounded! The demigod stared at Potts as if he didn't quite understand what was happening. Potts returned the gaze with impunity. It was obviously something that Loki didn't like, because his young, arrogant face twisted in a sneer.

"And here I thought that I was to have free access to the facilities on this floor."

"I never said that it was unconditional. Now either apologise to Thor or go to your room."

Loki studied her for a moment. Clint wasn't sure what he was looking for, but Potts returned the look with an expression of infinite patience. Eventually, Loki pushed back from the table and headed out of the room. As he walked past Clint, the demigod slowed for just a moment and gave him a wide grin, the likes that meant that this was never going to end.

"That was easy," Banner said suspiciously after Loki was out of the kitchen.

"Yes," Thor agreed. "I will make sure he actually goes to his room..."

Clint decided against offering his opinion to the group as what they should do with Loki. Getting his head smashed in by Mjölnir wasn't something he was anxious to experience.

There was silence among the remaining team left at the table until Stark prodded Potts in the ribs and grinned at her. "See?"

"You're right," Potts replied with a small laugh. "He is cute when he pouts."

Clint scowled fiercely. Were they forgetting everything that Loki had done? He had killed countless people – he had killed Phil Coulson! He had planned on taking over the world. If it weren't the for Avengers, he would have destroyed the whole planet with his army in order to subdue it. And they were giggling because they thought he was cute?

Natasha flicked his hand to get him to look at her. In her expression he saw everything that he was feeling; anger, torment, disgust. He knew that she, at least, sided with him. But even she couldn't know everything... to be completely helpless to the voice in your head, to lay every weakness you fear bare to a man who would use it without remorse...

She put her hand over his as he glared down at his pancakes, struggling to contain his rage. Didn't any of them realise how torturous it was to be in the same building, the same room, as that man and not be able to do a thing about it?

"Clint," Natasha said softly, and he looked up at her. He tried to offer a small smile to show her that he could deal with it, but he knew that she knew him too well for that. "Want to spar after breakfast?"

Clint smiled dryly. It seemed as though all he had done since the imprisonment at Stark tower had begun was spar. If not with Natasha than with Rogers (not bad; his super soldier balanced out his relative inexperience) or Stark (hopeless without the suit. Hopeless.) and even Thor (ouch), but it didn't do much good other than to exhaust him so much that when he laid awake at night he was only semi-conscious. And it had been less than one full day.

"Well," Potts said, her voice bringing everybody back to the business of the day. "Is anything the rest of you need Tony and I to get while we're out?"

"I'm almost out of hairspray," Natasha offered.

"What brand do you use?" Potts asked as she stood up, glass in hand.

"I'll get you the can. It's pretty specific."

Potts nodded. She walked over to the sink to pour herself a glass of water. When she turned on the tap, water came spraying out of the side nozzle all over her. With a shriek, she turned the tap off again and whirled on Stark. Her blouse was soaked through and water dripped from her nose. The calm that had defined her when she had stared down Loki was gone.

"Tony, how many times do I have to tell you-"

"Whoa, whoa! It wasn't me!" Stark protested.

"Who else would put a rubber band-"

"I didn't do it!" Stark stood up. "Pep, you've been with me all morning. When would I have the time?"

Potts glared at him.

Rogers nervously cleared his throat. "Uh, actually that's my fault. Loki was doing something over there earlier and I didn't check to see what... I'm sorry."

What Clint wanted to do and what he actually did was to very different things. He wanted to remind his teammates exactly who they were dealing with, since it seemed as though they had all forgotten. He wanted to remind them exactly what Loki had done – to the city, to the planet, to him. He wanted to get his bow and do a little target practice on Loki's head. But what he did instead was push back from the table and slip on a mask of indifference.

"This is exactly why he should be locked up," he said. "Loki is a dangerous criminal. He'd be lucky to get locked up for the rest of his life, and we're letting him wander around playing tricks on us?"

Potts sighed. "I know that this is difficult, but-"

"No. No 'buts'," Clint replied harshly, finding it difficult to contain his anger. "He would kill each one of us without a second thought and we're having breakfast with him. What are you thinking? Do you think that we can save his soul? A man like that doesn't have a soul to save."

"Clint," Natasha said warningly, and that was when Clint became aware that Thor had just re-entered the room.

Clint winced, but he didn't retract or apologise for his statements. It was true, as far as he was concerned. There was a long, awkward silence as everybody waited for Thor to say something, but they waited a long time.

Potts was the one who broke the tension. "The moment Loki displays threatening behavior – not these little pranks that Tony would do –" here Stark grimaced, "then he will be locked up. Until then, I would like to think that we can aren't so merciless as to keep him in a cage."

"I agree with Pepper," Banner said, speaking his opinion of the matter for the first time.

"What?" Clint asked. "I thought that you, of all people-"

"I know what's it's like being locked up. It doesn't help."

"So we are trying to help him? He killed Phil."

"My brother was not always like this," Thor said softly, and the pain in his voice was evident no matter how hard he tried to hide it. "And while I cannot say that I agree with Miss Potts's arrangement, I would like to think that someday Loki will remember who he is."

"I'm sorry Thor," Clint responded. "All I know is that he made me kill people I worked with, my friends, and nearly destroyed my home. I can't- It's hard to live with. I'll go along with whatever everyone else agrees with, but I'm never going to be happy knowing that Loki is... free in the same building as I am."

Thor nodded his understanding. Clint wondered if he understood what was not said. I'm never going to be happy knowing that Loki is alive.

"You know what?" Natasha said softly to Potts. "Don't bother with the hairspray. I think I'll get it myself. Clint and I could use some time out of the tower. As long as the rest of you are okay with watching Loki yourselves."

Nobody was going to argue with her. Clint glanced at Thor, Banner and Rogers, who exchanged their own glances and nodded. Clint let loose a breath that he didn't know he had been holding. He wasn't certain that leaving for a few hours would change anything, but removing him from Loki was a wise move on Natasha's part.

"We'll be back for dinner," Natasha continued, looking to Clint for confirmation that it was acceptable to him. He nodded.

"All right. Is there anything that you three want?" Potts asked the Avengers that would be remaining. One by one they all shook their heads.

The rest of breakfast went quickly and quietly, and nobody made eye contact. Clint had taken to staring out the window again, but he wasn't paying attention to what he was seeing. After breakfast was done and Jarvis had the dishwasher working, Natasha and Clint went to the garage and got into one of Stark's expensive cars.

"Where do you want to go?" Clint asked Natasha as he started the engine.

"Somewhere without 'controlled conditions'."

Chapter Text

Thor stood brooding in front of Loki's door. His brother had not come out since Miss Potts had banished him there at the morning meal. Thor had volunteered to stand watch, if only to avoid having to speak with the others, and he had haunted the corridor for three hours waiting for Loki to emerge. Several times he had been on the verge of breaking down the door and forcing Loki to listen to him, but knowing he would be met with scorn and hate stopped him.

What happened to you, brother? he thought. How could I be so blind as to not see what you were becoming?

Thor doubted that he would ever know the answer.

The door was wrenched open. Loki glared up at him. If it wasn't for the murder in his eyes, he would have looked exactly as he did when he and Thor were young brothers and for one reason or another had gotten into trouble.

"Is there a reason you are standing outside my door like an ape or has this corridor taxed your wits to their end?"

Thor willed himself not to grow angry at the petty insults. "Miss Potts has returned and wishes to give us our earth garb."

"Then she can send them to me."

"Loki," Thor said warningly, "Miss Potts has shown you a kindness and you will respond in like manner."

Loki laughed. "Kindness? Like Odin's kindness in sending me here? Like your kindness in coming as well? All of you have motives, but not one is driven by kindness."

Thor seized Loki's shoulders and shook him. "Are you so blinded by your anger, brother, that-"

"I am not your brother!"

Thor released Loki. The words still cut through his heart more painful than any physical weapon. Thor struggled not to show how much it hurt. He stared down at Loki, whose gaze held nothing but contempt and anger. For a long time they were locked in a battled without movement or words, testing the other's will.

"You are my brother, Loki," Thor said eventually, and he masked his hurt with anger. "You will always be my brother."

Something indecipherable – uncertainty maybe? – flickered through Loki's eyes. Then he dropped his gaze and pushed past Thor. He stalked towards the kitchen.

"You are a fool, Odinson," he spat over his shoulder. "I was never your brother."

Thor clenched his fists, wishing that the human constructions were not so flimsy. He needed some way to release his anger, but was mindful that his friends would not appreciate him breaking their dwelling to do so.

Breathing deeply to calm himself, Thor headed back to the kitchen. Miss Potts was handing Loki two plastic bags while Stark watched from near the fridge, grazing on a bunch of grapes. He raised his eyebrows at Thor, and the demigod wondered how much the humans had heard of his and Loki's discussion.

"Thor," Miss Potts greeted warmly. "I hope that these will fit you."

Thor accepted the three large bags from her. "Thank you."

"No problem."

"What is this?" Loki snarled, looking in the bags he had been handed. He pulled out a yellow and red shirt.

"That was my idea," Stark said proudly. "Because, you know, I'm awesome."

Loki glowered at him, holding the shirt out at arm's length. Thor inspected it silently from where he stood. It was clearly made in the design to look like Stark's metal armour. Despite knowing that it would only serve to antagonize Loki even more, Thor couldn't suppress a chuckle.

At the sound, Loki threw down the shirt as if it had burned him. His expression was beyond murderous and Thor surreptitiously moved closer to the mortals just in case his brother decided to lash out. Loki pushed the bags of clothing away, breathing heavily as he attempted to control his anger. His bright green eyes burned.

"I do not see the point of these earth rags," he spat. "Seeing as I will not be leaving the tower, I have no need to avoid 'standing out.' This is nothing more than a useless attempt to humiliate me!"

"Loki," Thor warned.

Loki sneered at him.

"Bit of a temper problem," Stark muttered.

"Tony," Miss Potts scolded sharply. She frowned at Loki, but not in an angry or upset manner. Thor was reminded of his mother when she was trying to figure out why her sons were mad at each other. It seemed as though Loki was also reminded of Frigga, because he suddenly dropped his gaze and folded the Iron Man shirt back into the bag.

"Are we finished here?" Loki asked quietly, but the anger was still there.

"I would like to show the two of you how to use the laundry machines," Miss Potts replied. "But we can do that later."

"That would be preferable," Loki replied. "I will not be joining you for lunch."

Miss Potts nodded. Loki gathered his bags and marched stiff-backed out of the kitchen. Thor sighed after Loki left, sinking down into a chair. He rested his head in his hands, angry with Loki and himself and yet even more than angry, he was sorrowful.

"What was that all about?" Stark asked. "He sort of overacted. And to the Iron Man pyjamas... I thought if anything he'd freak out about the dress."

"I told you that a bad idea," Miss Potts snapped, turning angrily on Stark.

Stark backed away, raising his hands in a defensive gesture. "It was only a joke! If he can put a dead mouse in Romanoff's pocket he can handle clothes!"

"Tony, I-" Miss Potts cut off. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply before turning to Thor. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," Thor lied. The warrior in him told him to straighten his spine and to stand, not letting emotion show. This he did. "Thank you for procuring the garb for my brother and me. I know that he will appreciate it, no matter how much he wishes not to."

Miss Potts smiled kindly. "Maybe you'd like to see how the laundry works now?"

Thor hesitated a moment and then nodded. "Thank you."

"Tony?" Miss Potts turned to Stark and despite still clearly being upset with him, reached out to touch his arm. "Do you want to come too? It's about time you learned how to use a washing machine."

#

"Four males, non responsive," Natasha said coldly into her phone to a spluttering emergency hotline worker. "You might want to send an ambulance and a cop or two. These are wanted men. Hurry up, the tide is coming in."

She glanced over her shoulder as she ended the call. Clint was putting the finishing touches on the last of the men in the form of a rabbit punch to the forehead. The man slumped unconscious to the ground. Clint kicked him once and then walked back to the car where Natasha waited. His lip was split and a bruise was forming on his cheek.

"You could have let me have some fun, too," she complained as Clint slid into the passenger seat.

"There were only four little ones. Hardly enough to go around," Clint replied briskly. He winced as he buckled up. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"Knowing what I needed."

Natasha navigated the car out of the old warehouse. She kept her gaze on the road. "You don't have to thank me."

"I know."

It had been good to get out of Stark tower and take a few drug dealers, violent gang leaders, and some other various criminals down a few notches. Natasha wasn't usually one for the outright violence that this sort of thing called for. In this case, however, it was nice to have a release from the stress that living in the same building as Loki had caused.

"Not to mention Potts insisting that he be allowed freedom."

Natasha glanced briefly at Clint. He was staring out the window. "I was thinking on my face again?"

"Yeah. You've been doing that a lot lately."

"So have you."

"I know."

They rode in silence for a while longer. Natasha twisted through the alleys at high speeds until she came to a more populated street, where she slowed down to match the paces of the other vehicles on the roads.

"Do we have time for another fight before dinner?" Clint asked.

"Not if we don't want Pepper to get mad at us for not washing before eating."

"Really? You're concerned about Potts getting mad?"

Natasha kept her gaze on the road. "I don't like Loki getting free reign any more than you do, Clint. But it is confusing Loki even more than us. That's our advantage. Those pranks that he's playing will keep the others from growing complacent, so that's also to our advantage. All we have to do is keep him contained until Odin decides what to do with him. And from what Thor's said Asgardian justice is a far better vengeance than whatever punishments you and I could come up with."

"I've come up with some pretty decent punishments."

"Clint, I know why you're angry. If it was me, I know I couldn't think this clearly. But you've got to listen to me, okay? We have to play along."

"Play along," Clint repeated softly. "This isn't a game, Tasha."

"Then we turn it into one."

"How do we do that?"

Natasha's lips twitched into a wry smile. "I don't know. But we'll think of something. You and me. Like we always do."

Clint looked at her fully for the first time since they had gotten into the car. He grinned at her, and reached over to put his hand on her shoulder to show her how much he appreciated it. She returned the favour by relaxing under his touch. Clint squeezed gently, and then brought his hand back to his side and looked back out the window again.

Chapter Text

Nobody commented on Loki's conspicuous absence at dinner, or any of the meals the next day, or the day after that. They had left food outside of the door all day and all night for the past forty-eight hours, but the plates hadn't been touched. And when Thor had tried to persuade Loki to eat, it had ended in a shouting match and Thor breaking Tony's brand-new treadmill. The god of thunder claimed it was an accident. After that, he was fairly melancholy, eating with much less of his usual gusto, and spending most of his time in the gym trying to figure out how to not hurt people who were brave enough to spar with him.

Tony felt guilty that he hadn't noticed how much of a strain it was on Pepper to play referee for the Avengers as well as take the slack for giving Loki his relative freedom. He didn't understand what was going through Pepper's head, but he trusted her and hadn't shown that trust enough over the past few days. So he had vowed to support her with whatever she asked of him.

But this was ridiculous. Tony stood outside of Loki's door, a cheese sandwich and a piece of chocolate cake on the plate he was holding. He knocked on the door, silently hoping that the demigod would just ignore him.

It was not to be. Loki opened the door and stared up at Tony with irritation. "Can I help you?"

"Pepper's concerned that you're not eating."

"Good for her."

Tony tried to give him the plate, but Loki just stared at it and didn't move. Tony rolled his eyes. "Here."

"I don't want it."

Tony surveyed Loki for a moment. The little demigod was being an adorable ten-year-old again (I'm really glad Pep didn't bring him the food. She'd start to want one) glaring up at Tony in a manner that reminded Iron Man a little of himself. Tony pushed past Loki.

"I thought one of the rules was that we weren't allowed to enter each other's chambers without permission."

"Yeah, well, it's my house," Stark replied, settling down at the writing desk. It was a nice desk. How come he didn't have one like it? "And besides that, Pepper said I'm not allowed to come back until the food is gone and I'm not going to stand in the hallway waiting for you to eat."

Loki laughed derisively. "I already said I don't want it. I'm not hungry."

At that moment, the loud growl of a hungry Loki stomach decided to tell Tony that the demigod was lying. Loki looked annoyed at his body's betrayal but nevertheless didn't make a move to take the food. Instead he sat down on his bed and slid a leather-bound book into his jacket. It wasn't one that Tony recognised, so he didn't really care if Loki stole it or not.

"Suit yourself," he shrugged, picking up the cake and taking a big bite out of it.

Loki frowned. "I thought you were to persuade me to eat."

Tony made a dismissive noise in his throat. "Pepper just said the plate had to be clean. Plus it's cake."

"And that changes everything."

"Yeah. It's cake," Tony repeated, just in case Loki hadn't understood the first time. He enjoyed the chocolate cake so much that he decided to move on to the sandwich. "Hey, there's something that I've been wanting to know for a while but I'm too scared of Thor to ask him."

Loki's interest was clearly piqued.

"In our Norse mythology about the two of you, there's this one story where Mjölnir get stolen by a giant who wants to marry one of the goddesses, but you dressed Thor up like the bride-"

Tony cut off. Loki's face had lit up with the memory and he laughed, a surprised genuine laugh. Tony was shocked. He hadn't realized the Loki was capable of anything genuine, except perhaps genuine ridicule. But here he was, chuckling in the lighthearted manner of a boy who had just pulled the ultimate prank on his big brother.

"That made it here?" Loki asked. His chuckling subsided somewhat. "That was the best day ever. Thor made such a lovely bride I'm surprised that every eligible bachelor in the nine realms didn't clamour for his hand in marriage."

Tony snorted. "So it really happened? I would have loved to see that. But I thought that only Thor could lift Mjölnir."

"That's a relatively recent development," Loki replied, and the happy glow on his face disappeared. "It was a long time ago."

Tony was intrigued by the look that had come over Loki's face. Was it nostalgia? Or something else, something deeper? But the look vanished and Loki's face became hard and arrogant again.

"Are you done yet?"

"Hey, I just ate. Give me a minute," Tony responded. "You want this half?"

"I already said-"

"I'll leave faster if you did."

Loki studied Tony suspiciously for a long time, and then took the proffered half sandwich. "Will you leave now?"

"Pepper said that I have to make sure all the food is gone."

"And do you always do as Pepper tells you?"

Tony narrowed his eyes slightly, not liking the tone Loki took with Pepper's name. "Only when she's mad at me."

Loki nibbled on his sandwich, eyes narrowed, but didn't say anything.

"By the way," Tony said casually, "those pyjamas were a joke. You totally overacted. So you can start eating again."

Loki snorted and looked away. "You think that I would deny myself subsistence over your petty revenge?"

Tony shrugged. "Petty is the key word in that, and you completely flipped out. I mean, I thought that you'd go crazy over the dress."

"Why?" Loki asked, and it seemed that he was genuinely puzzled. "What's wrong with blue?"

Tony studied him. "It's a dress. For girls."

Loki shook his head and laughed. "You humans have such strange notions."

"Yeah, well, you're the one who wanted to rule us. You wouldn't have survived two weeks... you know, you would have had better luck making a cheesy chickflick. Fangirls are far scarier than Chitauri." Tony paused a moment, thinking about his own experience with the more fanatical of fangirls and shuddered. "Far scarier."

"Fangirls?"

Tony nodded, polishing off the rest of his half of sandwich. "Anyway, I thought that the god of mischief would be able to take a harmless joke instead of freaking out."

Loki frowned, chewing his sandwich slowly. "So what you're saying it that you played a prank on me with those... pyjamas as you call them?"

If Thor had been there, he would have warned Tony not to reply in any way, and instead run for the nearest exit. But Thor wasn't there, and Tony was just happy that he'd be able to go back and tell Pepper that Loki was over the pyjamas and there was no need for her to banish him (Tony) to the sofa that night. Again.

"Yeah." Tony nodded.

Loki grinned broadly. "Challenge accepted, Mr Stark."

The demigod shoved the rest of the sandwich into his mouth, and Tony suddenly got the feeling that he had made a mistake. A great big mistake.

Chapter Text

"Well, isn't it nice to have the whole family together again," Loki beamed at breakfast the next morning.

He looked so delighted that everybody else was on edge, nervously picking at their oatmeal, all except Thor, who was on his third bowl already and still eyeing the pan in the middle of the table. Pepper was happy to see that he had embraced wearing the clothes she had bought for him the previous day, although Loki still wore his Asgardian garments. Not that she blamed him, after Tony's stunt, but she had carefully selected clothing that she thought would suit him and was hoping that he would accept the attempt to build a truce. That didn't look like it was going to happen.

While Pepper was sort of glad that whatever Tony had talked with Loki the previous night had caused the demigod come out of his room (in her opinion 'out of sight, out of mind' just didn't work), she was terrified of that grin, and she wasn't sure how much more of the stress she could put up with.

Between Barton and Natasha coming home bruised and bleeding, Steve's extreme seriousness, Bruce locking himself in the labs, and Thor's disastrous attempts at doing his own laundry, the only thing keeping her sane was the fact that Tony had given her a neck rub the previous night and swore on everything he held dear that he would back her up 110% in all her decisions concerning Loki from then on. Now she was doubting whether she could back herself up.

Tony sensed her tension and patted her hand. She smiled at him gratefully. And then she caught a glimpse of a smirk that passed over Loki's face and all her stress redoubled.

"So I was thinking, – and captain, you don't have to listen, you've heard this already," the demigod started innocently. "Since we're all stuck here together for an undetermined length of time, we might as well try to make the best of it. To start off with, it would be best for us all if we at least pretended to try to get along."

"What's your point?" Barton demanded.

Loki smiled in a very patronizing way. "That doesn't sound like you're trying to get along, Clint."

Pepper was certain that the situation could very quickly escalate into blood, so she intervened. "Did you have something in mind?"

"Well, I was reading on your – what is it called? – internet this morning, and I found a game called Candyland-"

"Whoa!" Rogers bolted upright in his chair. "You were on the internet?"

Loki gave him an innocent look. "That is what I just said. It is remarkably easy, isn't it? Oh, have you not got the hang of it yet? I'd be happy to help you."

"How did you get on a computer?" Tony demanded.

"You left your laptop on the table last night."

"You did not use my laptop."

Loki couldn't stop a smug grin, and shrugged as if the whole thing had just been a random conversation. "Then I guess somebody else left their patented Stark laptop out here... in the open... waiting to be used. You should find out who it is, because there were some very interesting pictures on it of Miss Potts wearing... ah..." here Loki cleared his throat, as if embarrassed.

Pepper flushed red. "Tony?"

"My laptop is password protected," he responded quickly, looking a little afraid.

"Then it couldn't have been Mr. Stark's laptop, Miss Potts," Loki said with another devilish grin. "This password was ridiculously easy to guess. Not protection at all, really... "iron man is cool" with a dollar sign instead of a 's', a number 1 instead of a 'i' and zeros instead of 'o's."

"Stark, you let Loki break into your laptop?" Natasha snarled.

"I didn't let him."

"But you left it lying around?" Barton demanded.

"I-"

Pepper interrupted. "What pictures are on there?"

"None!" Tony responded, panic coming to his brown eyes. He looked around the table, and saw only glares directed at him, except Loki who was chuckling into his oatmeal. "There are pictures of us at that last charity ball, but nothing-"

Natasha threw down her spoon. "I think a more pressing issue here is the fact that Loki was able to just stroll through the internet-"

"It's called "surfing", actually Agent Romanoff."

"I don't give a-"

"Language, agent! There are children present."

"Hey, you're the only child here," Tony spat at Loki.

Loki put on an expression of false offense. "I am far older than you, Mr. Stark. If I'm a child, what does that make you?"

"I-" Tony cut off and suddenly started laughing. Pepper stared at him. He had lost it. It shouldn't have come as a surprise, given that he was Tony Stark, but why now of all times? She was mad at him! She didn't have the fortitude to work up the appropriate pity.

"This is because of the pyjamas, isn't it?" Tony asked.

Loki laughed as well, and the two shared their chuckles like a pair of old friends who wanted to kill each other.

"Don't be absurd, Mr. Stark. I haven't even started on the pyjamas."

Thor seemed slightly alarmed. "What are you speaking of? What are pyjamas?"

"Do not fret," Loki responded, still grinning at Tony. "Mr Stark just pulled a little prank on me."

Thor groaned and thunked his head against the table. He muttered something in a language that Pepper didn't recognise. Loki broke eye contact with Tony to look at Thor with raised eyebrows. He said something in the same language. Thor looked up glaring and replied. Loki flushed. With a definite bite to his voice, he let off a rather long stream of words – some of which Pepper understood, which were not exactly polite.

Thor jumped to his feet, knocking against the table. The milk carton tipped over. Milk gushed over the table, soaking through the tablecloth and spilling over the edge into Loki's lap. The dark-haired demigod pushed away from the table with a disgusted cry.

"Do you have to be as clumsy as you are stupid?" he snapped at Thor.

"Loki," Pepper said, her head pounding with a tension headache that was creeping up her neck. She heard the stress in her voice and attempted to breathe calmly. It didn't help. Not in the slightest.

"What now?" Loki turned to her, the mischievous glint in his eye replaced by anger.

"Apologise to Thor."

"No."

"Then go to your room."

Loki narrowed his eyes at her, but stood up. He gave his brother a disgusted look, and then headed out of the room. At the doorway he stopped and glanced back. "Does this mean we're not going to play candyland?"

#

Bruce looked up as somebody entered the lab. Tony walked in, carrying the same laptop that Loki had hacked into. The billionaire looked irate, and practically threw the computer down in front of Bruce and then began pacing in wild circles.

"Should I be worried about you turning into a giant green rage monster?" the scientist asked mildly.

"Loki!" Tony spat out in reply. "He changed the password on my laptop."

"Can't Jarvis hack into it?"

Tony stopped pacing and laughed manically. "Oh, yeah. Jarvis can. And Jarvis did. But guess what I found? Go on, guess!"

Bruce decided that guessing probably wasn't going to be the best course of action. "Tony, you need to calm down. This is exactly the kind of reaction that Loki was looking for."

"Yeah, it is!" Tony replied. "That's why I'm here reacting instead of there reacting. He changed the desktop! I can't find anything. I can't even change the password again! This is my laptop and Loki has managed to completely screw it up in ways that I can't fix! I'm the genius who built it! And he's just-"

Bruce couldn't help but smile a little at Tony's wild anger. Loki had known exactly where to strike. "Loki is from Asgard which is more advanced than earth in ways we don't understand. It makes sense that he would be able to figure out our technology, even your laptop, quickly. He's not stupid."

"And yet Thor still has trouble with the washing machine. Even I know you don't put a full bottle of laundry soap in one load," Tony muttered, sitting down on a nearby chair.

Bruce shrugged. "You'll be able to figure it out. Give yourself time."

Tony breathed deeply. "You're right. Thanks, Bruce. I guess I just needed to let off some steam. I'm all right now."

The laptop made a small dinging noise. Bruce looked at the little bubble that had popped up on the screen, and his face went white. As Tony reached for the computer, Bruce snatched it and backed away. Tony raised his eyebrows.

"Trust me, you don't want to see this right now," Bruce told him.

"Why?"

"Just remember how calm and relaxed you are-"

"Bruce?" Tony was advancing on the doctor with a slightly crazy gleam in his eye. "Hand over the laptop."

Bruce hesitated for a long time. With a sigh, he reluctantly handed the computer over and waited in silence. Tony looked at the screen. His eyebrows shot up, and then narrowed in confusion. Slowly, all emotion drained from his face. For a long time he stood like that, staring at the computer screen.

"I have to go have a chat with Loki."

"Don't get yourself hurt," Bruce replied, as Tony left the lab.

#

Loki didn't look up from his book as the door to his room flew open and an irate Tony Stark barged in. The demigod smirked as he turned the page. "I'm disappointed, Mr Stark. I thought that you were going to get back into your laptop hours ago. Are you sure you are the one who built that reactor in your chest?"

"Yeah, yeah, very funny," Stark replied shortly. "You bought flowers this morning?"

Loki casually marked his place with a ribbon. "I was only trying to help with your and Miss Potts's relationship."

Stark's eyes narrowed.

"You told me yesterday that she was mad at you. I have an understanding that earth women like flowers when they are mad with their lovers, and so I took the liberty of sending Miss Potts some at her office for you."

"Five thousand dollars worth!" Stark snapped. "Of my money."

"You've got plenty." Loki could have laughed at how red Stark's face was. The Iron Man was trembling with his anger.

"That's not the point-"

"It's just a joke."

Stark opened his mouth to reply, but at that time his phone started ringing. Loki smirked. Stark glared, and looked at the phone. He blanched, and Loki guessed that Potts was on the other end. The ringing was loud in the room, and Loki's smug grin widened. Stark took a deep breath, and then answered.

"Hey, Pepper!" Loki watched Stark's face as it went from slightly afraid to confused. "It's nothing, really... I'm just glad that you like them... It's not too much? That's great. That's really, really great." Stark glared at Loki as the demigod started to giggle. "Yeah. See you tonight. Love you too."

Loki looked back at his book. "You're welcome."

"Nicely played," Stark said, with somewhat of a begrudging, admiring tone. "Nicely played."

"Just wait until she gets the diamonds."

"Diamonds?"

"Oh, and you will probably be getting a phone call from PETA shortly to thank you for your substantial donation to their truly wonderful cause."

Loki looked up from his book again to grin widely at Stark's flabbergasted face. The billionaire (who was down a few million dollars but what kind of difference did that make?) was so shocked that all he could do was stand stock-still and gape like a fish out of water. Loki was very satisfied with himself. Now this was a prank.

"I would just like to say, Mr. Stark, that you are truly a shining example of heroics in these troubled times," Loki continued, rubbing salt into the raw wound. "You should be commended for your generosity."

Stark took a deep breath and shook his head. "This is all revenge because I bought you a pair of Iron Man pyjamas?"

"Revenge?" Loki said as if he was offended. He stood up and placed his hand over his heart, as though wounded or swearing an oath. "This is not revenge. You played a prank upon me and I merely repaid you in kind. This is reciprocity."

"Reciprocity?" Stark repeated, and he managed to calm himself enough to plaster a false smile over his face. "But that would mean that I now owe you another prank."

"Well yes, it does." Loki smiled again, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I look forward to it."

Chapter Text

Thor opened the door to the Rec room gingerly, checking the frame for any sort of trickery and then looking up to make sure there wasn't a bucket of water propped over the door. Finding nothing, he cautiously went through. He sighed in relief when nothing happened. It had been two weeks since Stark had prodded Loki into starting a trickster war. While the brunt of Loki's pranks focused on Stark, and all of Stark's pranks had focused on Loki, there had been... accidents.

Banner was in the Rec room with Rogers, "shooting pool" as they said, although there was no actual shooting or water involved. Thor walked over to join them. Humans had the strangest names for such things. The surface that they played the game upon was a "pool table", which he understood, and yet the sticks they used were "cues", which he did not.

"You got the pink out of your hair," Banner noted.

Thor ruefully touched his blond locks. "Miss Potts was kind enough to dye my hair back to its original color. We have kept an extra box just in case something happens again."

Rogers smirked. "I'm just glad that I wasn't the one to step through that door."

"This is kind of getting ridiculous," Banner sighed, sighting down his cue. From what Thor knew of the pool game, the doctor was losing big time. "Not that I mind Loki using his... talents for pranks instead of trying to take over the world again, but... you know."

"What are you complaining about?" Rogers teased lightly. "He hasn't pranked you at all."

"Well, I guess I can turn green without help," Banner replied slyly, and Rogers winced.

"I already asked you not to talk about that."

"It would end if Stark would admit defeat. I think." Thor sighed, settling himself on a nearby stool. "My brother does not give up when his title of trickster is challenged. I remember one time when we were children, our friend Sif made the mistake of putting a live frog on his plate. The whole hall laughed when it startled him. That night he crept into her bedchambers and cut off all her hair."

"Charming," Rogers muttered. "What happened next?"

"She broke his nose. And then he gave her a wig made from the hair he cut... after casting a spell on it to make her skin turn purple whenever she wore it," Thor laughed fondly at the memories of how furious Sif was. "I couldn't leave him alone for a month for fear that she would take her vengeance and he would respond with something even more terrible."

Rogers shook his head ruefully. "I don't see Stark giving up any time soon."

"Me either. Tony's not the kind to back down," Banner agreed. "When I talked to him this morning he was giggling like a madman over his latest plot. I actually think he's enjoying this."

"Did he inform you as to what his plans were so that we may avoid catastrophe?" Thor asked hopefully.

Banner shook his head.

"Too bad," Rogers said.

Thor was silent for a moment as the two humans played their game. A heavy frown was on his face, almost as dark as the weight on his heart. "Banner, there has been something that you said that I have been struggling with."

"What's that?"

"When Barton was arguing to keep Loki imprisoned in his room, you said that you agreed with Miss Potts in allowing him free access to this floor."

Banner looked up and frowned. "I said that weeks ago."

"Why?"

"I was wondering about that, too," Rogers piped up. He leaned on his cue and looked at Banner expectantly.

Banner shrugged. "I don't know. I've gotten pretty good at reading stressful situations, and it just seems to be even more stressful when he's not in sight. Besides, like Pepper said, he would escape just as easily from that room as if he had access to the whole floor. And he's been staying in his room most of the time, anyway, except to set up his pranks."

Thor nodded. He hesitated a moment before speaking. His own emotions were confusing, and he hardly expected Banner to share his. "You spoke as if you wanted to help him."

Banner shrugged again, looking very uncomfortable. "I don't know," he said again. "Maybe it's because Tony's right. Loki's too darn cute when he pouts."

Rogers laughed. "He is that."

Thor smiled as his friends laughed, but his heart was heavy. They could joke about it, laugh at Loki's youth, but looking at the face that had once looked up to him with love and adoration was painful to Thor. So many memories crowded around him, and each and every smile that they brought to Thor's face died as he looked into his brother's bright green eyes that held none of the light they used to.

Was redemption possible?

"Are you all right?" Rogers asked suddenly, and Thor became aware that he had let too much emotion slip onto his face. The demigod was about to brush off the captain's concern brusquely, but he hesitated.

"I miss my brother," he said after a while. "I fear what the future holds for him... and yet I know justice demands punishment. His crimes... are unforgiveable."

Banner and Rogers were solemn, and neither looked at Thor. The demigod sat silently, the weight on him almost too heavy for him to bear. Look at you! The mighty Thor! With all your strength... and what good does it to you now, huh? Did you hear me, brother? There's nothing you can do!

"I don't know about that, Thor," Banner said softly. "I think forgiveness is possible as long as you are willing to give it. Whether Loki will ever accept it or not is another story, but you can't control his actions. Just your own. I know that this isn't really going to help, but... In some ways, I actually think forgiveness is the worse punishment that we could give him."

Thor's brows knit together. "I don't understand."

"You're the only one he gets angry at. And I know a thing or two about anger," Banner chuckled wryly, and spread his hands in an ironic gesture. "I'm just a scientist, but it seems to me that it's because you make him feel vulnerable. And not physically. We all know that I could smash him a lot easier than you."

A ghost of a smile twitched over Thor's lips, but he didn't know how to respond. "Loki hates me," he said eventually.

Banner nodded and left it at that.

Rogers walked over to Thor and slapped his shoulder. "You want to join in?"

"I am afraid of breaking something," Thor replied ruefully. "This games requires a finesse that I am not used to."

"Well, you know what they say. Practice makes perfect," Banner replied with a grin and got another cue to hand to Thor. "I used to break a lot of stuff, too."

"And how will this work?" Thor asked, knowing only a little about the game.

"You can be on my team. Together we might be able to beat Captain America over there," Banner laughed. "Just try to get the stripped balls into the pockets, okay?"

Thor obliged, and his first shot sent the white ball careening off the table, bouncing over the bar, smashing several bottles of Stark's favourite drink, before it rebounded and hit Rogers square between the eyes. The captain collapsed with a surprised "Oh!" and then sat on the floor, blinking and looking dazed.

Thor winced and hurried over to see how badly he had hurt his friend. As he crouched down to Rodger's level, he thought he saw something in the corner of his eye but when he turned to look nothing was there.

#

Loki had been intent on setting up his next prank (replacing Stark's favourite drinks in the bar with things such as salt water and mouthwash) when Banner and Rogers had come into the Rec room, forcing Loki to hide in a cupboard behind the bar. It was cramped and smelled slightly of over fermented whiskey.

Interesting. Perhaps escape will be easier than I thought, Loki noted to himself when the two men started playing a game of pool (really, what did it have to do with water?) and were completely oblivious to his presence.

After about half an hour of being in the cupboard, Loki was about ready to burst out and let the two Avengers know that he had been there the whole time, but then Thor joined them.

I miss my brother.

Loki hadn't been able to get out of that room fast enough, though he had been very careful to make sure that none of them noticed that he had even been in there to begin with. He went back to his room, where he laid down on his bed, lacing his fingers behind his head and tried to think up something particularly cruel to do to Stark. The whole switching-drinks thing didn't seem to be quite enough anymore.

You make him feel vulnerable.

"Stop it," Loki dug his palms into his eyes, trying to banish the overheard conversation from his mind. It was madness to keep dwelling on the musings of fools. Instead he tried to think on his anger at being called cute again. Cute was the most undigified word in the universe. He was not cute, nor would he ever be cute!

Loki hates me.

He took his book out from his jacket, fighting against the memories that it brought back. After a moment of tracing the gold filigree with his fingers, Loki stuffed the book under his pillow and breathed deeply.

Suddenly he swung off the bed. There was no point in lying around with his thoughts chasing around his head. He would at least be able to get some fun in while he had the chance. Marching out of his room, he found the first room with occupants in it (that didn't include Thor). It was the theatre. Potts and Stark looked up from the sofa where they curled against each other.

"What are you watching?" Loki asked mildly, settling in his favourite chair, frowning at the TV screen as the drawn images of lions fought each other.

"The Lion King," Potts replied.

Loki observed Stark and Potts for a moment, noting the way that he touched her arm as they cuddled close together, murmuring in low tone. Stark's had a playful banter to it, and Potts a playful annoyance. They grinned at each other in a way that made Loki feel nauseated and he decided to stop the sickening show of affection.

"So, Miss Potts, how much does Mr. Stark pay you for your services?" he asked mildly, layering the last word with unmistakable undertones.

Stark and Potts looked at him. The twinkle was gone from both of their eyes. Loki grinned back at them, and gave Potts a knowing, deliberate wink.

"Go to your room," Stark ordered, anger clear in his voice.

"What, without even an option of an apology?"

"Go to your room."

"Make me," Loki scoffed.

Stark turned off the TV.

"Tony," Potts started in mild protest, but he ignored her.

"Thor!" Stark shouted.

So much for having fun. Loki stood up. "Fine. I'm going."

He left the theatre, bumping into Thor on his way out and giving the older demigod a hateful sneer. You don't have a brother. You never did.

Loki couldn't resist slamming the door of his room when he entered. He paced around the room like a caged beast, not knowing what his next move should be. He should have spent more time researching and less time playing on the internet that morning that Stark had left his laptop out for any fool to hack into. He just hadn't been able to resist the prank; he regretted not finding some whisper of a way off this infernal planet while he had the chance.

He stopped and stared in the full-length mirror. He hated the face he saw there, looking back at him. Those childish features, the big green eyes, the dark hair against his pale skin. He had never liked being in sunlight long enough to achieve the tan that was so desirable on Asgard. He didn't like heat. Because I'm Jötunn. I never belonged on Asgard.

He hadn't worn his earth garb since it had been brought, and his green-and-black clothing from his childhood was beginning to scuff and stain. Not to mention that it smelled a little of curdled milk. It was also getting snug. Loki estimated that he had grown half an inch since he had arrived on earth and abstained from using any magic. It was a relief that he was regaining his age. If he kept aging at this rate, then he should be rid of this child's face and be back at adulthood in... ten months?

I will have to escape before then, he thought. The older I am, the more wary the Avengers will be.

And he would escape. He would escape, exact vengeance, and be rid of this world, once and for all!

Chapter Text

It was kind of immature, Tony knew. But then, really, wasn't that the whole point of pranks? Weren't they all supposed to be immature and self-centered, taking pleasure in the humiliation and/or pain of another person? Plus Loki had insulted Pepper, and that was one thing that Tony would not stand for.

He felt like throughout the whole 'war' he had been engaged in with Loki, he had always been on the losing side. Even though his pranks usually went off without a hitch (minus the whole pink-haired Thor incident, but really that was Rodger's fault), Loki's pranks had a certain elegance to them that even when paint was dripping off Tony's nose he had to admire the skill behind their execution.

"But not today!" Tony muttered gleefully to himself. He had warned all of his fellows about this one, so that none of them could ruin it.

With one more check over the contraption he had set up, Tony grabbed a newspaper and sat down at the head of the table in the kitchen, watching and waiting. It was almost time for breakfast; he'd be arriving soon...

Tony didn't have long to wait. Loki, dressed in his typical Asgardian leather, entered the kitchen shortly. He was rubbing his eyes, but the dark circles under them made it look like the demigod hadn't slept at all. He stopped in the doorway, looking around at the almost-empty kitchen suspiciously. Tony glowered at him, hoping to distract him from the prank.

"Where is-" Loki started, taking a step forward.

Above Loki's head, the bucket overturned. Down came three gallons of maple syrup, landing square on his head and splattering around all over him. He stopped dead, a surprised look coming over his face. He looked up, and the second bucket overturned. Flour poofed down. Within seconds, Loki looked like a little snowman.

Tony sat chuckling at the table. Loki gave him an adorable, murderous glare and he just laughed harder. The billionaire stood up and walked over to Loki, who still hadn't moved. The syrup and flour were mixing into an amber mash that looked pretty well disgusting.

"Looks like you're ready to bake," Tony said, and then leaned down so that he was eye level to the demigod. "Don't insult Pepper. Ever."

Loki looked down at himself and then back up at Tony. He forced a smile on his face, and without a word turned away.

#

It took Loki half an hour and a whole bottle of shampoo to get the syrup-flour mixture out of his hair, but his clothes were ruined. He had no choice but to wear the earth garb that Potts had bought him. He scowled fiercely for not seeing the prank coming. Stark hadn't done anything so cleverly simple, and so Loki hadn't even thought about looking up when entering the suspicious room.

But that wasn't the end of it. Loki hissed in annoyance when he looked for earth garb that would not be too stupid looking (those jeans that Thor wore – preposterous!) and found that somehow all the clothing had mysteriously disappeared. All except the Iron Man pyjamas that Stark had been so pleased about buying. Even the blue dress was gone!

Loki stared down at the red-and-gold outfit, wondering if it would be better just to go to breakfast naked. Or perhaps skip it all together. His grumbling stomach told him the latter was a bad idea. Loki cursed under his breath as he dressed in the ridiculous costume. He was once the king of Asgard and now he was dressing in children's superhero pyjamas!

"No doubt the other earth garb will not be returned until I make an appearance," he grumbled to himself.

Ah well. It was actually a good prank, and reciprocity demanded one in turn. Loki hated to admit it, but he was enjoying his little war with Tony Stark. In another lifetime, they could have been great allies. No realm would be safe from their combined trickster ways...

"What am I thinking?" he asked aloud, slapping himself across the face. "I've been among them too long."

Once dressed, Loki sat on his bed and took deep, calming breaths. He would need all his self discipline when faced with whatever mocking the Avengers threw at him for his attire. Every time he lost his temper, it was a victory for them. It was so much harder to keep a reign on his emotions within the child's body. Different chemical makeup, he supposed. Was this really what it had been like as a child? It was so long ago that he couldn't properly remember.

-Breakfast is almost ready.-

Loki scowled up at the ceiling as Stark's all-knowing false intelligence spoke. It was like having Heimdall always peering over his shoulder. Except he knew how to trick Heimdall. He didn't know how to trick the virtual butler.

With one final calming breath, Loki headed out to the kitchen. He was more cautious entering this time, but found no further tricks and so he walked to his spot next to Thor. He was well aware that the Avengers and Potts were staring at him and Stark was giggling as if it was the funniest thing he had ever seen.

"Is he wearing-?" Banner began to mutter to Romanoff, and she nodded.

"Tony-" Potts snarled under her breath.

Loki ignored them, schooling his features into a passive boredom. Barton wasn't at the table, but Loki didn't dwell on that thought.

Various robots and contraptions began whirling around, serving each person a bowl of fruit and a plate with fried eggs and toast. Thor got almost three times as much as everyone else. They certainly ate well at Stark tower, Loki had to admit, even though he did long for a good old-fashioned flagon of ale. Apparently, he wasn't allowed to touch Stark's alcohol "Because you're too young." Of course, he couldn't afford to risk the drink anyway, so the point was moot.

Barton came in then. His expression was peculiarly blank. Loki frowned, watching the assassin, who didn't give him a second glance. Something was up. Loki felt a small shiver go down his spine, although he tried to ignore it. Barton wouldn't be so foolish as to tempt the wrath of Thor, but there were other ways than death to exact revenge.

Potts's phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and frowned at it.

"Rule twenty, Pep," Tony reminded her, but she gave him an exasperated look and shook her head.

"It's the office. Excuse me." Potts stood up from the table and walked out.

Loki poked at his eggs with his fork, and wrinkled his nose as the yellow yolk dribbled over the plate. Pushing it away, he concentrated on the bowl of fruit. It was sweet and juicy, and gone far too quickly. Loki eyed the bowl that had been served Thor; the oaf was munching happily on his eggs and toast, ignoring the fruit entirely. After a moment's hesitation, Loki switched his plate for Thor's bowl and dug into the fruit with gusto. They did not have peaches like this on Asgard. They didn't have any peaches, for that matter.

Thor paused in his eating when Loki swapped their foods, carefully not looking at the younger demigod. Loki tensed for a moment, but when Thor continued to eat as if he hadn't noticed anything, he relaxed again. If anybody else had noticed the exchange, they ignored it.

Potts returned, wearing a long-suffering look on his face. "Steve?"

Rogers looked up.

"I have to go to the office. Are you going to be able to keep order here?"

"Whoa, wait a minute!" Stark protested. "This is my house. Why does Rogers get to babysit?"

"Because it's you," Potts teased lightly.

Rogers snorted. "Everything will be fine."

"I'm sorry, but I have to run," Potts said regretfully. "Try not to break anything while I'm gone."

"Pepper, I have a meeting with Fury, could I catch a ride?" Romanoff asked.

"Sure," Potts replied. Loki wondered if he was the only one at the table who realised that they were lying.

Loki finished eating shortly after the women left. He sat in his spot for a moment, observing how all five of the remaining men were very careful to watch him without looking at him. Shrugging, he put his dishes in the dishwasher (and yet the high-heeled shoes that Potts favoured were called pumps - humans and their names!). Turning back to the room, he saw that there was a wrinkle in the rug near Stark's chair. Perfect.

Walking casually, he 'accidently' tripped over that winkle. His head hit the table with a loud crack, and his face collided with the table leg. Blood spurted out of his nose; and at the same time, he threw out his hands to catch himself. One of them just happened to stealthily take Stark's phone out from his pocket and slip it up the sleeve of his Iron Man pyjamas.

"Are you all right?" Banner asked, helping him to his feet.

Loki was so shocked by the genuine concern in the doctor's voice that he forgot to respond. He pressed his hand against his bleeding nose and stared at Banner as if he was growing another head.

"Loki, are you-" Thor started, looking concerned, and Loki regained the use of his tongue.

"I am fully capable of caring for myself," he snapped.

He turned away, cradling his sore face. He felt his magic tingling in his nose as he headed to his private bathroom to clean himself up. By the time he was done, the bleeding was finished and the only trace of injury was a slight redness in his normally pale skin tones.

Finished, Loki left his room. They would find him too quickly there. Avoiding the humans (and Thor, who was still eating) he made his way into the rec room and squirmed his way into the little cupboard beneath the bar.

It took Loki only five minutes to figure out how to use the phone's text messaging abilities. He settled back in the cupboard, the grin on his face making the Iron Man pyjamas worth it. He selected a blind carbon copy for all of Stark's contacts and began to type out a message.

"Well, Mr. Stark, let's see you repay this one."

#

"To be honest, I have no idea what I'm doing," Pepper sighed, leaning back in the spa's chair while relaxing music played in the background, the avacodo mask cooling on her face. She had lied about going to the office. Instead, she and Natasha were at a spa. It was very nice to get out of the house. "I feel like I've launched myself into the middle of a battle without knowing which side I'm on."

Natasha, her face covered in a cooling green mint mask, gave her a sympathetic look. "I understand what you mean. The more time I spend around Loki, the more ambiguous his motives seem to be. I mean, just look at these pranks he's pulled on Tony. Masterful. Like Da Vinci. He's brilliant, as much as I hate to say it."

"I know," Pepper groaned. "And he's so annoyingly cute! If I'm not careful, Tony's going to start wanting one."

"A son or a mini Loki?"

Pepper snorted. "Both. He's loving this, you know."

"I do know."

"Sorry, I interrupted. What were you saying about Loki's brilliance?"

Natasha hesitated for a long while. She blew out her breath and shook her head. "Well, he puts a lot of planning into these schemes and they are good plans. And then you look at his attempt to take over the world, and it's kind of like holding up a blank piece of paper and saying 'Hey, look, it's a polar bear in the middle of a snow storm.' It lacks his... elegance."

Pepper frowned. "So?"

"I don't know. It was probably just because he had an army to back him up then, and only has his wits now... and can't be too evil." Natasha leaned back on her chair and closed her eyes. "I'm really worried about what he's up to. I keep expecting to wake up getting burnt to a crisp while he laughs at how stupid we all were for letting him roam free."

"I've had a few nightmares, too," Pepper admitted. "I keep wondering if he cast a spell on me or something, so that I keep insisting that he be allowed some freedom. But if he had, would I be even wondering about it?"

"Don't ask me, I don't know how magic works," Natasha replied. Her phone dinged, announcing a text message. With a groan, she reached over to check it. "If those guys have gotten into some trouble- whoa!"

"What?"

Natasha looked sick, throwing the phone down as though it had burned her. "Tony just sent me a message that is clearly meant for you."

Frowning nervously, Pepper reached for the phone. She read the message and her face went red under the green mask. "I am so sorry. I don't even know what to say to that."

As she handed the phone back, it dinged again.

"Oh, that is just wrong!" Natasha exclaimed as she read it. "That is so wrong! Does he actually do that?"

Pepper, feeling even more embarrassed and worried, took another look at the text message. Her face froze in horror. She made a choking, spluttering noise. She thought she might be sick. "Tony would never say that!" she exclaimed, hoping that she was right.

"Then wh-" Natasha groaned. "Loki."

"Loki?" Pepper repeated. She looked at the phone as if it were dangerous. "He has a sick, sick mind."

The phone dinged again.

Chapter Text

Three hours after Loki began texting people with Stark's phone, the door of the cupboard was ripped off. Loki managed to hide the phone up his sleeve before Thor seized him by the collar and dragged him out. Just as well. He was running out of ideas and some people had begun to reply. Humans had very dirty minds.

"You have gone too far, brother!" Thor growled, dragging him along behind him.

"With what?" Loki spat, wrapping his two small hands around Thor's thick forearm to spare his neck from the jerking. He could hardly keep up with Thor's long strides.

Thor dragged him into the kitchen and threw him into a chair. Loki straightened his shirt. Thor stepped back, joining his fellows who stood in a threatening semicircle around the chair.

Thor looked furious, but not as angry as Stark. Banner stood as keystone of the group, stern-faced. Next was Rogers, trying to look like he was in control. Barton was last, looking slightly pleased. Loki gazed back at them impassively. Were they finally going to lock him up and torture him? It would explain Barton's expression.

"Give me my phone," Stark demanded, holding out his hand.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Loki lied coolly.

"Loki, you have caused enough trouble," Thor thundered. "You will end these schemes now!"

Loki stood and returned Thor's glare. "Will I?"

"Give me back my phone!"

"What makes you think-"

Banner suddenly strode forward, pushing aside Barton and Rogers. He slammed his fist into the table. "GIVE IT BACK!"

Loki reacted instantly. He threw the phone at Stark, hitting him square in the nose. The demigod backed away from Banner, nearly tripping over the chair behind him. It clattered to the floor. Banner walked forward – Loki found himself edging closer to Thor for protection – and righted the chair. The calm expression on his face showed that his anger had been an act. Loki straightened his clothing, as if that would help him get over the fact that a) he had been scared and b) he had been tricked.

"Right," Banner said, looking between Stark and Loki. "I'm getting sick and tired of this childishness. It ends now. Understood?"

Stark reluctantly nodded. Loki folded his arms and attempted to stare down Banner, but the memory of getting swung through the air and smashed into a stone floor made him think better of it.

"You may want to change your ringtone again," he said archly to Stark. "Unless you enjoy Rebecca Black."

Stark glared at him.

"Now, if all of you will excuse me," Loki continued, "I'm sure you would love some privacy to discuss my punishment."

None of them made a move to stop him, although he could feel their glares drilling into the back of his head. He heard Barton following behind him, but didn't give an indication that he had. Going to his room, Loki smirked to see that his earth garb had mysteriously reappeared in a heap on the floor. He found a pair of black trousers and a dark green sweater to replace Iron Man, and sat on his bed.

The fun was over. Now all he could do was wait for whatever the Avengers decided was punishment enough for these latest pranks. He could try to escape, he supposed, but he wasn't prepared for it. An attempt at this time would end in failure and make them increase security, making another attempt all but impossible. He would just have to wait out the punishment, and hope that it wouldn't take too much magic to heal from it. Would Captain America condone boiling oil?

Whatever they decided to do, Loki silently determined that he would laugh at all of them through it. It was only a matter of time before Odin decided to have him executed to appease the people of Asgard, anyway. What difference would the little tortures that these idiots could concoct make in the end?

An unexpected pang shot through him when he wondered if Thor would be the one to hold him down. As much as the oaf claimed to still love him, claimed to still view him as a brother, he had always loved himself more. How could that have changed? Loki angrily dug his fists into his eyes, trying to erase the emotions that swirled in his mind.

I've looked forward to this day as long as you have. You're my brother and my friend. Sometimes I'm envious, but never doubt that I love you.

Loki blew out his breath, forcing the memories from his mind. He reached under the pillow for his book. It wasn't there. Frowning, he lifted the pillow and threw it to the floor, and then the other one. His book was nowhere to be seen. Jumping up, he tore the blankets back, shaking them all out, and then rooted through the pile of clothing on the floor. His heart hammered against his chest, and he fought at the despair that clawed at his throat. Where was it?

Suddenly he stopped. Barton.

#

Steve sat down at the kitchen table, rubbing his eyes. The weight of leadership was heavy on his shoulders, but at the same time he realised that this wasn't the typical situation he was used to dealing with. Loki didn't belong to this world, and as the only representative from Asgard, as well as Loki's brother, Thor had a significant say in what went on.

But then there was Barton, who was clearly furious that Loki was allowed any freedom at all, and Miss Potts, who insisted that he be allowed that freedom, and Banner who spoke up lightly in support of Miss Potts, Romanoff who didn't say what she thought one way or another, and of course Stark, who joked so much about the whole matter that Steve didn't know what he thought.

"All right," Steve said, trying to bring order to a silence that was strife with opposing thoughts. "Obviously Loki is more resourceful than we thought-"

"'We'?" Barton repeated.

Steve glared at him.

"Sorry." The assassin was decent enough to look apologetic.

"And we're all stressed out, but we have really got to work together and solve this problem. Thor, do you have any idea what's going on in Asgard?"

The demigod shook his head. He was the only one who wasn't sitting. He paced back and forth, clearly still furious. "I have no means of communicating with my father, unless perhaps Heimdall is watching, which I cannot tell if he is. Even then, I cannot know what is happening there, they only know what is happening here."

Steve nodded in understanding. "We have got to come up with a system that keeps everybody happy. Most importantly, we have to make sure that we keep things calm-"

Just then, Loki appeared in the doorway. His child's body trembled with fury and he didn't even try to hide that. His bright green eyes narrowed in on Barton.

"Give it back," he hissed.

Barton stared back at him impassively. "Give what back?"

Without a word, Loki flung his hand forward, twisting it sharply as though he was throwing a football. A long, vivid green snake materialised in the air, shooting towards Barton with mouth open wide. It's fangs glistened. The assassin flung himself to one side, and the snake burst into a shower of golden sparks as it hit the chair where Barton had been.

"Give it back!" Loki screamed, launching himself forward.

Steve jumped to his feet to try to intervene, but Barton got to Loki first. He caught the demigod midair and tossed him away. Even as he fell to the floor, Loki whipped his hand around and a cloud of sharp-beaked crows materialised, swarming around Barton. Another flick of the wrist and a large wolf crouched growling on the floor.

"Loki!" Thor roared, seizing his brother and pinning his arms to his side. "Stop this now!"

Steve jumped between Barton and the wolf, grabbing a chair to fend it off. It dissolved as he thrust the chair at it, only to reappear behind him.

"GIVE IT BACK!"

"Give what back?" Stark shouted above the pandemonium as yet more creatures appeared.

"He took my book!" Loki screamed.

"Barton, what's he talking about?" Steve demanded, swinging at the wolf just to have it disappear again and pounce at the assassin, who was busy swiping at the birds attacking him.

Thor gave out a cry of pain as Loki kicked his shins and bit his arm. Steve spared only a glance to see another wolf appear to attack the blond demigod. Loki slipped from his grasp. Dodging between the creatures that he had conjured, Loki grabbed a chair and swung it at Barton with far more strength than a normal kid that age would have been able to do.

Barton grunted as the impact sent him to the floor. The wolf dodged in, but Steve swung at it and it dissolved again. He tried to step in between Loki and Barton, but he was too late. The assassin sprang back to his feet, and swung at the demigod. But at that exact moment, Banner stepped forward to avoid a crow dive-bombing his head. Barton's fist sunk into his stomach. A look of surpise came to the scientist's face, an oof of pain sounding loud in the room.

The conjured creature all disappeared in a poof of sparks. Absolute silence fell. Every eye in the room was on Banner, who bent double with pain. He let out a soft groan. Barton and Stark backed away. Thor tensed, readying to throw himself into the fray should Banner transform.

"Dr Banner?" Steve said cautiously, stepping forward.

"I'm all right. I'm good," Banner replied, slightly out of breath, straightening. He rubbed his stomach and gave a reproachful look at Barton. "Clint, that hurt."

Thor strode forward and seized Loki. Stark cautiously went over to Banner to make sure the doctor wasn't going to hulk out. Steve set down the chair he'd been using, watching Loki, who still glared murder at Barton, and whose returning glare was equally murderous. So much for trying to keep things calm.

"Barton," Steve said, holding out his hand. "The book."

Barton glared defiantly at the captain for a moment before reaching into his vest and pulling out a leather-bound book with delicate gold trimmings. Loki strode forward, Thor's hand still latched on his arm, and snatched the book out of Steve's hand before it was fully in it. Steve noticed how badly Loki's hands shook as he looked through the book, inspecting each page. It was as though he had forgotten about the five Avengers still staring at him.

"You kept it?" Thor asked quietly, his voice mystified.

The sound of his voice seemed to rouse Loki out of whatever place he had gone while checking over the book. He looked up at his brother for a long moment before roughly pulling himself from Thor's grasp and backing away. His knuckles were white as he clutched the book, and he looked at the five Avengers with a gleam in his eye that looked slightly hateful, slightly panicked. His chest rose and fell rapidly.

And then, as if he hadn't just been fighting all five of them for it, Loki strode over to the garbage and threw the book in with a definitive thud. Steve saw Thor tense.

It was then that Romanoff and Miss Potts returned. The women stopped in the doorway, looking around at the scene of destruction. Two chairs were overturned, Barton was scratched and bleeding, Banner was still rubbing his stomach, and in the middle of it all Loki stood, his green eyes glittering with challenge.

"What happened?" Miss Potts asked, the expression on her face wondering if she even wanted to know.

"I'll explain later, Pep," Stark muttered to her.

"Everybody just needs to stay calm, okay?" Steve stared at his teammates and then at Loki. The demigod sneered but didn't move or speak. "Look, Loki, we've been trying to play nice-"

"So have I," Loki interrupted.

Steve raised his eyebrows. Did this guy forget what was just happening two seconds ago? "You have?"

Loki gave him a chilling grin. "I haven't killed any of you yet, have I?" He laughed at the Avengers as they stared at him with expressions of varying degrees of disbelief. "You are all so pathetic! Did you think that anything would change just because we all share our meals like a great big happy family? This is laughable-"

"That is enough!" Thor roared.

"Is it?" Loki shouted back, his voice raising shrilly to match Thor's. "It will never be enough!"

"Enough for what?" Romanoff interrupted. She moved into the room, staring hard at Loki.

Loki glared at her, but didn't speak.

"Romanoff, will you take Loki back to his room so that we can decide what to do now?" Steve requested quietly.

Loki hissed between his teeth, but as Romanoff stepped towards him, he offered no resistance. Once they were gone, Miss Potts walked over to Stark with question in her eyes. He sighed and shrugged, sitting down. She put her hand on his shoulder, and he responded by wrapping his arms around her waist. The silence was heavy in the room, and Steve didn't even know where to begin. His team was falling apart. He couldn't deny that. He rubbed his eyes. What could Odin have possibly been thinking, sending Loki back to earth?

"What's with the book?" Banner asked Thor.

Steve looked up to watch Thor's reaction. The demigod was still staring at the garbage bin, and he hardly moved when Banner repeated the question.

"It..." Thor started, and then stopped. He didn't look at his teammates. "I gave him that book when we were children. Our mother taught him to read with it."

Steve glanced quickly at Barton. The assassin was holding his head in his hands, and didn't so much as stir.

"Leave it," Thor said suddenly, and Steve looked back to see that Banner had stepped towards the garbage bin. Thor spun towards the door and as much as Steve would have liked to have let him just walk out, this wasn't a matter that could be ignored.

"Thor, we need to talk about what just happened."

"I understand, captain. Now you please understand that I must cool my head so that I can talk."

Steve didn't argue. He looked at the remaining members of the team, and with a slightly apologetic look Stark took Miss Potts's hand and they, too left. Moments later Romanoff returned and without a word Barton stood and joined her. They didn't stay, leaving just Steve and Banner. Outside, the previously sunny day was darkening with black clouds and thunder began drumming ominously.

"Well, this is a mess," Steve sighed.

Banner nodded, and then walked over to the garbage bin and pulled out the leather-bound book. He wiped it off with a paper towel and then walked back over to the table and sat down.

"You sure you're okay?" Steve asked him.

"I'm fine. It was a bit touch-and-go there for a minute but I think the other guy is starting to realise that accidents happen." Banner sighed, and set the book down on the table. "All that over this."

"I don't get it. Was he just looking for an excuse to attack us?"

"Steve, do you really think that he needs an excuse?" Banner asked intently. "He was angry that Barton took it. Really angry."

"Yeah, but he threw it out."

Banner opened the book and flipped through the pages. "Because it became a weakness that we could exploit."

Steve frowned. "It doesn't matter. Odin's spell isn't enough to keep him from using magic, and Thor couldn't keep him in line. What are we going to do about him, Banner? We can't keep letting him roam free, he's causing too much trouble."

Banner smiled wryly. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened. "That's what a lot of people say about me."

"That's not the same," Steve countered.

"When it comes down to what he can do, and what I can do, who is the more dangerous?"

"He is," Steve said firmly. "Because you never wanted to hurt people. He does. He killed people just because he could. You're not like that."

Banner inclined his head slightly. "If we lock him up, he's just going to get angrier, and more dangerous. Trust me, I know. As crazy as it is, a part of me still thinks that locking him away in any manner will be a grave mistake. But," he sighed, "you're right. He is causing too much trouble and if today is any indication he could escape at any time. Once he's calmed down he will realise that, too."

Steve nodded. "So what are we going to do?"

Chapter Text

Clint ducked the swing Natasha sent at his face, but couldn't dodge the knee she dug into his stomach or the following double fists that flew at his head. He collapsed to the floor, groaning in pain. It was the mutually agreed-upon way to admit defeat, and Natasha backed away, panting. She grabbed a towel and began mopping the sweat off her arms and neck.

"So I take it you're not too happy about leaving the spa early?" Clint asked in a cautiously optimistic attempt at humour.

Natasha's response was to twirl the towel up and whip his bare arm with it.

Clint got to his feet, rubbing his sore solar plexus. "Why are you so mad at me? You're the one who said that we should turn it into a game."

"We, Clint," Natasha barked at him. "I said 'we'. Not 'you'. If you had let me in on this, it would never have escalated to such gigantically bad proportions. Now not only does Loki know that he can still use that much magic against us, but you have everybody mad at you. The divide is just going to get wider, which is exactly what Loki needs to bring us all down."

Clint grimaced. "I just... I hate him. It's killing me that I have to sit at the same table and eat, that I have to walk the same halls, that he gets to breathe the same air as I do and there isn't a thing I can do about it because everybody else thinks that just because he's in a child's body that means he isn't dangerous."

"Don't you think that I already know that?"

Clint looked away. "I know you do."

Natasha sighed, and sat on the gym floor. Clint sat beside her, and they were silent for a long while.

"I've been compromised," Clint said eventually, his voice low. "I let my hate get the best of me. I'm sorry."

"I know."

"I know you do."

"I know."

Clint nudged Natasha with his shoulder and she returned the gesture with a small smile. "What now?"

Natasha shrugged. "I would say apologise to the team for causing a ruckus, but that would kind of be absolving Loki of all blame. So maybe a half-apology, admitting that you didn't think things through etc, and then a private apology to Thor. You know, so he doesn't smite you."

"No smiting sounds good," Clint agreed. "But I don't think I did anything wrong... Well, I certainly didn't do nearly as much as Loki and Stark did during their trickster wars, and neither of them have to apologise. Why should I have to?"

"For the team, Clint. We're breaking apart. Cap's going to have a coronary trying to placate us all. Thor is furious with Loki and himself and you, but he's torn between the devotion to his family and the demands of justice. Stark is trying to deny it all by turning it into a joke – that's what he does best. Banner is afraid that Loki will use the Hulk against us. Pepper didn't get what was going on, not really, but now that this has happened she's going to be killing herself with guilt. You haven't slept since we got here and quite frankly I was looking forward to a day at the spa and some girl talk."

Clint didn't have to ask her how she knew all of that. "All right. I'll apologise. But-"

Natasha was silent, waiting for him to continue.

"There is something that I don't get, Tasha. If he could do all that with magic, why hasn't he escaped all ready? Why is he still here? Is he biding his time, waiting for an opportunity to kill us all before launching another attack on the planet? What is his play?" Natasha frowned. Clint knew that face. She had a theory. "What is it?"

"Not much right now. I need more data. He's hard to read."

"Can I get a hint?"

Natasha rolled her eyes. "If I'm right, then things are going to get a lot more complicated, but easier to manage. If I'm wrong, then things will be simpler but harder to keep from exploding."

"Wow. That's clear as mud."

Natasha shoved him with her shoulder. "I don't want to say much about it right now. We've got a bigger problem. When Rogers calls our meeting – because he will call a meeting – what are we going to argue for?"

"I don't understand." Clint frowned, and then stared incredulously. "You think he should still be allowed to run around? Natasha, that's crazy!"

"I know. I know it's beyond insane, but I just have a feeling that it could be worse, Clint, a lot worse, if we cage him up."

"And you feel this way because...?"

"I don't know. My head tells me this is crazy, but my gut says that we should show Loki... kindness."

Clint stood up. He breathed deeply to keep tabs on the anger that was rising in him again. "He doesn't deserve it."

"I know." Natasha hesitated for a long time. "But I didn't, either."

#

"He isn't nearly as cute when he's conjuring up magic wolves and angry birds to attack you," Tony grumbled as Pepper pressed an icepack against his bruised temple. He groaned, milking it a little more than it was worth.

Pepper settled beside him, her face pale. "This is all my fault."

"Pepper, you can't blame yourself."

"I'm the one who insisted that he be allowed to have some freedom. Even after all the pranks he pulled. What kind of idiot am I?"

"You're not an idiot. You're a beautiful, kind, wonderful person with a loving heart. You have to be, in order to put up with me." Tony kissed her lightly. "All of this, this is Loki's fault. The kid needs to take anger management classes to help with these temper tantrums."

Pepper tried to smile at his attempted humour, but it didn't quite work. "At least nobody got hurt. Too badly, that is."

She grimaced as Tony flinched when she adjusted the ice pack. He flashed her his trademark cheeky grin. "Kiss it better?"

"Tony, this isn't funny."

"I know," Tony's smile disappeared. "And the captain is going to remind us all about it very soon, so... can we have calm before the storm? Please? Just let me laugh once more before everything ends up in the sewer system, okay?"

Pepper sighed. "I don't know if I can laugh right now."

Tony pulled Pepper into his embrace. "It's okay, Pep. It's all going to be okay."

"Is it?"

"Yes. You were right, you know. About not locking him up. He only snapped because Barton took his book... his connection to his past," Tony said slowly, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face. He shrugged and shook his head. "Doesn't matter now. But I promised that I would support you, and I still support you, Pep."

Pepper tried to smile at him, but it didn't quite work.

#

It was several hours before Thor returned to Stark tower. He had resolved himself to support whatever decision his teammates had agreed upon for Loki's punishment, so long as it wasn't too extreme. He would not allow his brother to be injured, but he wasn't certain what the humans would do. Earth was so different from Asgard he didn't know what to expect.

Thor dropped off Mjölnir in his room, noting the quiet of the tower. A brief concern passed through his mind that Loki had escaped, or that the Avengers had already begun his punishment, but when he entered the kitchen, he saw that all the humans were assembled around the table. It was a tense atmosphere as Thor went to his usual place and waited in silence to be told what had been decided.

"Thor, good timing," Rogers said with a nod at the demigod. "We were about to start the meeting without you."

Thor's brows knitted. Start the meeting? He had expected that they had spent the whole time he had been gone discussing what punishment would be appropriate for what Loki had done. He leaned back in his chair, glancing quickly over the other humans. They were all grim-faced, but calm. Had they spent the whole time cooling their heads as well?

"Right, so we all know why we're here," Rogers began, looking around at the group. "What are we going to do about Loki?"

Thor could sense all the gazes turn to him. He didn't speak, having resolved that he wouldn't until he heard the words that the others had to say first.

-If nobody else is going to speak, perhaps I could share my opinion?-

Thor looked up at the ceiling in surprise, as did all the humans.

"All right, Jarvis," Rogers said, sounding a little perplexed. "Go ahead."

-Since I have heard what all of you have to say to each other, except Thor because he did not stay- did Jarvis sound a little bit scolding? -I compiled each of your arguments and have come to the conclusion that you are all in more or less agreement. However, I do not wish to overstep my bounds so I have prepared this chart with each of your thoughts on the matter. Except Thor, of course, because he was not here-

Yes, the AI was definitely scolding. Thor sat straighter in the chair as the chart appeared in a virtual screen above the table, letting everyone see it. The assemble was silent as they scanned over the information presented to them.

-Please inform me if I have made any mistakes or omissions-

Thor was surprised that none of the others said a word. He reread the chart, to make sure he had understood it properly. He couldn't believe it. They were going to still let Loki roam free? His brows knit together and he subtly prodded Banner, who sat next to him, to make sure that this wasn't a trick of Loki's. The man was very solid, so it seemed as though this was real.

"Are you all in accord with this?" Thor asked in bewilderment.

"More or less," Romanoff replied.

"Some of us less than more," Barton was quick to add. He continued somewhat haltingly. "But I did provoke Loki, and I realise that I have not been acting as a member of the team lately. I apologise for that, and whatever everybody else decides on, I will agree with."

"Well, that was a lot easier than I anticipated," Rogers said, sounding surprised. "We won't keep Loki locked up. But we still can't let him get away with what he has done, so we do need some sort of punishment, and letting him do what he wants obviously doesn't work. So. Suggestions?"

"I think that, for the meantime at least, he should be forced to interact with us more," Romanoff suggested slowly. "Instead of locking him in his room, maybe locking him out of his room. We don't know what he's doing when he's not in sight so we might as well keep a closer eye on him."

"I'm not too crazy about the idea of hanging out with Loki," Banner objected mildly.

"Oh, please, you're the only one of us that he's actually scared of. And while I'm not too fond of the idea myself, I suppose it's better than putting him in a Jolly Jumper and stringing him up to the ceiling," Stark responded.

"Jolly jumper?" Thor repeated, the description of the torturous device not mashing with the name.

"They're for babies who are learning how to stand but can't yet without support," Pepper explained. "It hangs from the ceiling and you put the baby in it and they can jump up and down and have fun."

"Jolly jumper." Thor nodded. More of Stark's humour.

"Yeah, I don't think that's going to work," Rogers agreed. "All right. We can give Romanoff's plan a try for a few days at least and then reconvene for a... status update, I guess. Now, I've been thinking that we, as the Avengers – and Miss Potts - need to be doing more things together. We've been splintering off into groups and it's showing Loki that we can be divided."

"What kind of activities do you mean?" Barton asked, looking slightly apprehensive. "Like slumber parties and doing each other's nails?"

Rogers looked completely perplexed. "No. Why would even think that?"

Barton shrugged.

"I was actually thinking more like movie nights and games – like pool and darts, and-"

"And other such manly activities," Stark interrupted, nodding approvingly. "Like Dungeons and Dragons, or Snakes and Ladders."

"Wii sports," Romanoff added.

"That archery game is nothing like the real thing," Barton muttered under his breath.

Thor sat back as the team began chatting about various activities that they could all participate in together. For a moment he was transported back to memories in Asgard, when he, the Warriors Three, Sif and Loki would mill around the palace, doing whatever they felt like – and quite often getting into trouble because of something Loki did, only to get out of that trouble by the same route.

-If I can make a suggestion?-

"Yeah, Jarvis, what is it?" Stark said, looking to the ceiling.

-Might you adjourn the meeting so that Dr. Banner can return to his lab? He left the Bunsen burner on and I'm afraid that the drapes are about to catch fire.-

Chapter Text

Natasha knocked on Loki's door, and when she received no reply she opened it anyway. Loki was sitting at the desk, facing the door. Using magic had clearly cost him; he had shrunk at least nine inches, leaving him looking about five years old. His clothing was baggy around him. Natasha noticed with some amusement that even though his body had shrunk, his hair hadn't shortened to match his new proportions and hung down below his shoulders. He could have passed for a little girl.

He looked at her unblinking when she came in, with blank eyes and lips that were relaxed over grinding teeth. She recognised the expression on his face. She had seen it many times, and had worn it as well. It was the look of one resigned, waiting for torture and death. It wasn't right on a child's face. Natasha reminded herself that Loki wasn't a child and that they weren't even going to torture him.

"Can I sit?" she asked him, gesturing towards the bed.

"Do whatever you want."

Natasha frowned as she sat, studying Loki. He stared back at her.

"Why are you here, Agent Romanoff?"

Natasha half-smiled. "I drew the short straw. I'm here to tell you what we've decided to do."

Loki blinked, and a petulant glint came to his eye. "I didn't think that warning your prisoners what they were going to go through was quite your style."

As he spoke, his shoulders relaxed and he clasped his hands lightly in his lap. Natasha tried to hide her start of surprise. She was wrong. Loki wasn't just waiting for torture. He wanted it. Did he realise that he had given himself away? Did he even realise his own wishes?

"We've decided," Natasha said slowly, "that you will no longer be allowed to stay in your room throughout the day." A cloud of confusion crossed over Loki's face. Natasha allowed herself to enjoy that confusion as she continued. "From now on, you will always be in the company of at least one of the Avengers except at night. You will participate in our activities and – well, basically, you'll never be alone."

Loki folded his arms and leaned back in the chair. "You expect me to believe that?"

"No."

"Then why bother?"

"Because it's true." Natasha couldn't help but allow a smug smile as Loki stared at her suspiciously. The demigod studied her, trying to work out the truth that she wasn't speaking. He would be searching for a while, because there wasn't anything else to find. Natasha stood up. "Come on. It's time for dinner."

Loki didn't move. "I'm not hungry."

"Too bad. You have to come anyway."

"I won't eat."

"You have to come anyway."

Loki slowly stood. He had to hold his pants to keep them from falling down, they were so big on his tiny frame. Natasha saw that he had rolled up the legs, but he still looked like he was in danger of tripping over them. Natasha stood by the door and let him walk in front of her. Loki struggled to walk smoothly in his oversized clothing.

Going to the kitchen, Natasha went to her usual spot between Clint and Banner. Both men were finding whatever was going on in the street far more interesting than what was happening in the room. Loki walked slowly to sit beside Thor, who determinedly didn't look at his brother. Natasha shared a glance with Rogers, who looked resolute to keep a lid on things.

"I guess I have to go shopping again tomorrow," Pepper muttered, glancing quickly at Loki's baggy clothes.

"Need help?" Stark asked.

Pepper gave him a look meant to make him shut up. It worked. The silence returned awkwardly as Jarvis began serving them all lasagna. It smelled divine and Natasha suddenly became aware that she hadn't eaten since breakfast, and that had been cut short. Her mouth watered. Even though she had trained her body so that she could go for days without eating didn't mean she liked it.

"So what should we watch tonight?" Stark asked with a false brightness as he dug into his lasagna.

"Something light and funny," Pepper suggested, but she wasn't enthusiastic about it. She stared down at her plate and didn't look at anybody.

"James Bond," Natasha and Clint offered at the same time.

"James Bond isn't funny," Banner said, giving the two of them a strange look.

"Sure he is," Natasha replied. "He's a spy who tells everybody exactly who he is. He wouldn't last five minutes in the real world. That's what makes it funny."

"James Bond isn't funny."

A playful banter started between teammates, but Natasha noticed the stress in everybody's voice. Every time Loki moved, there was a miniscule pause in the conversation. For his part, Loki sat his with eyes downcast, hardly moving at all. Beside him, Thor picked at his food; that more than anything else showed the real tension in the room, despite the joking around the table.

When the lasagna was almost all eaten (true to his word, Loki hadn't taken a bite out of his), the team quickly cleaned up and filed into the theatre room. After a bit more discussion, it was decided that they would watch The Princess Bride. Everybody settled down onto the sofas and chairs, each of them well aware that not one of them was going to be able to enjoy themself.

-Shall I prepare drinks while you start your film?- Jarvis asked.

"Scotch for me," Stark replied instantly. Natasha frowned at him. Alcohol probably wasn't the best beverage for the billionaire to consume at the moment, but she'd let Pepper deal with that.

"Me, too, please Jarvis," Pepper said.

Ah well. Natasha glanced to her right where Clint sat. They had a quick silent conversation.

Clint rolled his eyes. Guilt, is it?

Yep.

Good.

Natasha frowned. Be nice.

I said I'd support the group. I didn't say I'd like it.

Thor would kill us if we killed Loki.

He'd be surprised what he can live through.

I doubt it.

Clint frowned, and Natasha could see that he didn't quite get the last meaning she had tried to send. She turned away. Her partner wasn't ready for her latest revelation concerning Loki. To be truthful, she wasn't entirely certain herself if she had read the situation properly. Why would somebody as arrogant and angry as Loki want the torture he had expected? It didn't make sense. Unless there was more going on than Natasha had been able to work out yet.

"I'll have water," Natasha said to Jarvis after Banner and Rogers both ordered soda.

"Same," Clint said.

"I would like that drink you call a milkshake with the bananas," Thor said to the ceiling, looking awkward as he always did when speaking to Jarvis.

-And for you?- Jarvis asked Loki after a moment, with just a trace of sarcasm in his cool automated British accent.

"Not thirsty."

Natasha observed Loki for a movement. He sunk low in an overstuffed armchair, his legs dangling over the edge without touching the floor. There was a fierce scowl on his little five-year-old face, but his eyes kept darting around the room at the Avengers, as if he was waiting for the other shoe to drop and to be hauled off for torture.

You'll have a long time to wait, Natasha thought at him as the movie started. He caught her glance for a brief second before focusing his gaze on the TV screen. But it hadn't been so quick that she couldn't see the question in his eyes.

Why?

#

Loki stood before the council of Asgard. His hands were chained before him, and the muzzle was painfully tight over his mouth. Outside he heard cries from the people, and though he couldn't understand their words, the calls for his death were unmistakable.

Before him was a great stepped dais where stood Odin, looking down with an expression of disgust. Beside Odin was Frigga, unusual abhorrence in her eyes. Standing just a little below them was Thor, whose face likewise echoed the hate of his parents. Loki gazed steadily ahead as though the hatred of those he once loved as family meant nothing to him. As though it wasn't like a spear to his soul.

"Loki," Odin began, "your crimes deserve no mercy, and yet I will grant you one."

Thor came forward then, and Loki knew what was going to happen, but he didn't move. He gazed back into Thor's eyes as the god of thunder raised his hammer. There was no pity or regret in them.

"You were never worthy to be called my son," Odin continued. "Never worthy to be given life in this realm. My mercy to you is this; your death will be quick."

Thor brought the hammer down.

Loki gasped for breath as he bolted upright in bed, the image of Mjölnir still swinging before his gaze. Sweat coated his skin and he trembled with the cold. Taking deep breaths to calm himself, Loki closed his eyes against the darkness and tried to reassure himself that had been merely a nightmare. The knowledge gave him no comfort.

"Odin should have left me to die in the ice," he murmured to himself. He licked his dry lips and tasted salt; were there tears mixed with the sweat on his face?

You are our son, Loki, and we your family. You must know that.

He wiped his face and tried to tear his mind from the dream. He had not been awakened by dreams since he was a small child- the same age as the body he now possessed, he realised. He tried not to think of his childhood, when Frigga would comfort him after a bad dream. She had been his mother then. She could be that no longer.

Loki lay back down, feeling the familiar burning in his eyes. All the lies and secrets his life had been crowded in his mind. He pressed his hands against his temples trying not to think, or at least think about things that did not leave a gaping hole in his chest, slowly killing him.

What were the Avengers playing at? He turned his mind to his current predicament. How long would it be before they showed their true colours? Would it be when he began to relax in their presence, began to trust them? If so, they would be waiting for a long, long time. They would get bored with their trick, and then the pain would come. But why were they playing the game to begin with?

And why was the bed so wet?

Horror filled every inch of Loki's small body. He hurriedly threw back the blankets and leapt out of bed. The too-big pyjamas fell from around his waist with the weight of the wetness they were soaked with. Loki felt his face flush red, even as he stood shivering half-naked in the cold.

Curse this child's body!

Chapter Text

-Dr Banner, please wake up.-

Bruce rolled over and covered his head with the blankets.

-Dr Banner. Dr Banner!-

Bruce groaned and sat up, bleary-eyed. "Jarvis? What do you want? It's the middle of the night. I didn't leave any Bunsen burners on, did I?"

-No, sir, but I require your assistance. There is an incident in the laundry room involving Loki.-

Bruce frowned and stretched. He swung out of bed and pulled a housecoat on over his flannel pyjamas. "Why wake me up? Why not Thor?"

-It seems as though Mr. Thor's title of 'god of thunder' is due to his tremendous snores while sleeping. I could not rouse him.- There was a pause. -Please hurry, doctor.-

Bruce dug his knuckles into his eyes as he made his way to the laundry room. As he approached, he thought he heard something that resembled a giant burping. Wide awake, he rushed down the hall. He slammed the door open, imagining scenes of all sorts of destruction. What he actually saw brought him up short.

Loki was kneeling on the lid of the washing machine, wearing nothing but a pair of underwear knotted at his waist. He smacked his hand against the dials, covered in detergent suds. His hair, which Pepper had trimmed earlier in the day, spiked wildly in all directions. As Bruce stared, the lid bucked, jerking Loki into the air as it spewed large amounts of suds and water into the air. It slammed back down with Loki clinging to it for dear life as he continuously hit the dials.

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" he shouted.

Bruce wasn't sure if he should intervene or laugh, it was such a comical sight. Then the machine bucked again – rather more violently this time – and he decided on intervention. Rushing forward, he snatched Loki off the lid of the machine and opened it to expel a surging mass of bubbles. It spewed into the air and roiled out of the machine like a volcano, spreading quickly over the floor. The machine shuddered and grew still.

"If you wouldn't mind putting me down?" Loki demanded archly, wiggling in Bruce's grasp. He was slippery with soap and Bruce set him down to avoid dropping him.

"What are you doing?" Bruce demanded of the little demigod, glaring down at him.

Loki glared back, although Bruce noticed that he was subtly moving towards the door. "I was bored."

"So you decided to wreck the laundry room?" Bruce looked around at the mess and then leaned over the washing machine to take a better look at its contents. "You were washing your sheets?"

Loki's face became even more petulant and he raised a sneering lip. "I am used to laundered bedding."

"And you decided to wash them in the middle of the-" Bruce cut off. He turned back to the god in the five-year-old boy, understanding what had happened. "Oh. Oh."

Loki flushed angrily. "It seems as though my night's adventures are at an end. I shall retire to my chambers now."

He turned on his heel to go.

"Oh, no you don't." Bruce strode quickly to stand between Loki and the door. "You are cleaning up this mess."

Loki's eyes narrowed. "Why would I do that?"

"Really?" Bruce asked incredulously. "I think I've got some pretty good blackmail material here, don't you think? Look, there's a drain in the floor over there, and there's a mop. Just get the water down the drain for right now while I fix the machine, okay?"

"While you fix the machine?"

Bruce didn't know why Loki sounded so doubtful and suspicious. But to be frank he wasn't all that interested in having a conversation with the demigod and so he just turned back to the washing machine and set it to drain. Behind him, he heard Loki splashing through the suds on the floor towards the mop.

"Did you use a whole bottle of detergent?" Bruce asked, spying an empty bottle (which he was pretty sure had been full that morning) lying on the floor.

"Am I supposed to intrinsically know how to use your technology?" Loki replied, wielding the mop awkwardly as he tried to direct the water down the drain.

Bruce suppressed a chuckle. "Thor did this, too," he offered.

"Well, I'd expect disaster from him," Loki muttered.

Bruce frowned. He hadn't noticed how much Loki was shivering. It wasn't particularly cool in the room, but then Bruce realised that he wasn't the one who was near-naked and covered in soap suds. He walked over and held out his hand for the mop. Loki hesitated a moment, and then handed it over. Bruce's frown deepened. Despite the nearly-impassive look on the demigod's face, he thought he saw something akin to anxiety.

"Why don't you go get dried off and dressed and then come back?" Bruce suggested.

Loki backed away, his eyes narrowing. He didn't turn his back, and his gaze flickered briefly to the mop.

"Do you think I'm going to hit you with this?" Bruce asked incredulously.

"Why wouldn't you?"

Bruce stared down at Loki, not following the demigod's logic. Did they beat children in Asgard? He's not a child, he just looks like one. Still, Bruce shook his head in amazement that Loki would immediately assume he was going to get beaten. The scientist rubbed his eyes, wondering how to reply to the question.

"I'm a doctor," he said eventually.

"And surely that is reason enough," Loki replied sarcastically.

"It is for me, yeah."

Bruce began working. He was slightly unnerved, but tried to ignore how intensely Loki was watching him. Eventually, the demigod left the laundry room, allowing Bruce to breathe out a sigh he hadn't realised that he had been holding. He shook his head and continued to clean up the mess, half expecting that Loki wouldn't return.

But Loki did return. He brought an armful of towels and without a word began to wipe down the washing and drying machines. The two worked in silence. When the machine was drained, Bruce set it on a full cycle to make sure all the detergent was rinsed from the sheets before going back to mopping.

After several hours the laundry room was relatively clean and dry, the wet towels were in the wash, Loki's sheets were drying (Bruce had decided to put them through a few more cycles of rinsing as they felt soapy still), Bruce had mixed up a baking soda cleaning agent for Loki's mattress, and there wasn't anything left to do but wait for the laundry to get done.

"What time is it?" Bruce muttered, glancing at the clock. It was three in the morning.

"How am I supposed to know?" Loki snapped back, rubbing his eyes. The little demigod stifled a yawn.

"It was a rhetorical question."

"Oh." Loki muttered, looking around. "So do we just stand here waiting now?"

"No, we don't have to. Come on, I want to go to the library and I'm pretty sure that you're not allowed to wander around on your own. How did you even get out of your room?" Bruce asked as he headed out.

"It wasn't locked," Loki replied as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. "There is a library here?"

Bruce nodded, deciding to ask Tony in the morning why Loki's door hadn't been locked. He went through the rec room and took a left to the library. It was just as elaborate as the rest of Stark tower, although Bruce was sure that the books were selected on basis of prestige and popularity rather than any that Tony had actually read. Loki stepped through the door, his face lighting up as he looked around.

"It's not as big as the one in the palace at Asgard," the demigod said, but failed to keep the delight out of his voice as he walked past the shelves, trailing his fingers along the spines.

"Do you read English?" Bruce asked as Loki pulled War and Peace from the shelf to study it more carefully. He could hardly heft it.

"Doctor, I read everything," Loki replied. With some effort, he put the massive tome back and walked down the shelf some more. "These books do not appear to be in any type of order."

"They're arranged by genre," Bruce replied, selecting a few biology books that Pepper had added to the library after he had moved into Stark tower. "And by author within the genre."

"Fascinating," Loki murmured. "And these ones here are what genre?"

Bruce walked over. "This section is fantasy, I believe."

"What does that mean?"

"Fantasy is... huh. How do I describe this? It deals with stuff like dragons and wizards. Magic. But it's all made up."

"Obviously. You humans know nothing about magic," Loki retorted distractedly. "Have you read any of these?"

Bruce was surprised by the question. "Um... I read Lord of the Rings when I was younger, but I'm not really into fantasy. I was always more of a sci-fi geek."

"Sci-fi?"

"Science fiction."

Loki glanced up at him and pointed to the books he held. "Are those books science fiction?"

Bruce glanced down at his selection. "No. These are actual science books."

Loki scoffed. "Boring. You humans know nothing of science," he declared.

"Nothing? Then why did you need Eric Selvig to turn on the tesseract?"

"I didn't need him," Loki replied in a mutter. "I gave him the plans, but it was my own design. Other than the off switch... but I only chose him because..."

"Because he's Thor's friend."

Loki shrugged. "And he isn't as stupid as most humans."

"You mean like me?" Bruce asked, genuinly interested in how Loki would reply.

"You said it, not me," Loki shot back, and continued his search.

The demigod was so filled with a child-like delight over the selections and titles that Bruce found it difficult to reconcile the image with the man who had tried to take over the world. Thor had said that his brother hadn't always been the evil egomaniac that they had all come to know and hate. As Bruce watched Loki, he wondered what he had been like as a child, and what had snapped inside of him to turn him against the brother who still loved him so much.

"You like reading?" Bruce offered hesitantly.

Loki nodded. "My mother used to read to me every night when I-" He cut off abruptly, his fingers tracing the spine of a thin book. He stood very still for a while and when he turned back to Bruce his eyes were clouded with mistrust. "Why did you bring me here?"

"Because I needed these books and we have to wait for your laundry anyway."

Loki's hand dropped from the books. "You aren't trying to help me."

Bruce raised his eyebrows. "With your laundry?"

"With anything!" Loki hissed. "What are you really up to?"

"Really?" Bruce set his books aside and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I needed books, and so I came to the library. It's not a trick."

"Isn't it? Thor knows how much I enjoy reading." Loki inched away, towards the door. "Are you trying to win my trust so that whatever tortures you devise are even more painful?"

Bruce stared incredulously at the demigod. He didn't even know how to respond to that. Although, he had to admit that he himself had been faced with so many tricks to win his trust that he understood where Loki was coming from. As far as Loki was concerned, they were all his enemies. And enemies did not show kindness to enemies.

"We're not going to torture you."

Loki rolled his eyes in disbelief.

"This is the mop all over again." Bruce shook his head. "Think whatever you want. I'm going to read."

And with that, he snatched up his books again, walked to one of the three overstuffed chairs and sat. Loki stood where he was for a long time before selecting The Epic of Gilgamesh, and going to the chair farthest from Bruce. He opened the book, and then looked up. He seemed to be on the brink of saying something, but when Bruce looked at him, he looked back down at his book and remained silent.

Chapter Text

Thor was sitting down to a yummy snack of poptarts when Banner sat across from him. The scientist looked troubled, and stared at Thor intently. The demigod munched on his poptart, wondering what he had done to earn such a glance. It made him slightly nervous, remembering being thrown around in the helicarrier by the Hulk. Not that he hadn't enjoyed the challenge, but there had been a lot of damage and Stark had been mad enough about the broken treadmill. And the coffe pot. And the table. And the door...

"Thor, were you and Loki beaten as children?"

Thor choked on his poptart. He spat it back out and stared incredulously at Banner, coughing. "What?"

"Were you and Loki beaten as children?"

"No!" Thor cried, offended by the question. "Why would you even ask that?"

"Last night, I woke up in the middle of the night and I headed to the kitchen, and I heard that Loki was awake as well so I decided that I might as well take him with me," Banner replied. "You know, so that he couldn't start a fire or something. Anyway, I dropped a jug of apple juice and it broke. When I got the mop to clean it up, Loki looked like he expected me to start beating him with it."

"What? Why?"

"I don't know. And later I took him to the library-"

"There's a library here?"

Banner looked exasperated. "Yes. It's right beside the rec room. Is that really more important than your brother?"

Thor slouched. "I apologise. I am just very confused."

Banner relented a little. "Okay. Anyway, I took him to the library and he thought that it was a trick so that we could... I don't know. Torture him more effectively."

Thor's jaw tightened. "He thinks we're going to torture him?"

"Yes. And I can't think of any reason why he would just automatically assume that's what we were going to do unless-"

"Hitting a child is a grave offense in Asgard," Thor interrupted. His forehead creased. "As is the wanton torture of prisoners."

"'Wanton' torture?"

"Anything other than what is necessary to get information."

Banner studied Thor carefully. "Is it possible that you haven't been aware of everything that's been going on in Asgard?"

Thor's automatic response was denial, but he paused and thought. He would have noticed something, wouldn't he? "Our father would never permit Loki to be tortured."

"Is is possible that he isn't aware of everything that goes on in Asgard?"

"To disobey the king is treason."

Banner frowned. "And is there anybody who would be willing to risk that charge?"

Thor opened his mouth to respond, but stopped. A thought crossed his mind and he pushed himself violently from the table. There just may. "I need to speak with Loki," he mumbled, and quickly found where Stark, Rogers and Romanoff were playing some sort of televised dancing game. Loki was with them, half-heartedly joining in. He stopped when he saw Thor, and glanced quickly at the humans before his gaze focused on the older demigod.

"I need to speak with my brother alone," Thor said, clapping a hand on Loki's small shoulder.

Loki pushed his hand off, but allowed himself to be led out of the room. Thor headed into the elevator, waiting while Loki raised an eyebrow and gazed suspiciously at him before stepping into the machine as well. They headed towards the rooftop. Thor wanted to make sure that they were completely alone for their discussion. As they walked on onto the roof, Loki raised his face to the sun and took a few deep breaths.

"You gonna push me off?" Loki asked, mimicking Stark's accent.

Thor walked around Loki until they were face-to-face. "Did Njord have to tortured?"

Loki looked caught off guard. His brow furrowed. "Excuse me?"

"Did Njord have you tortured?" Thor demanded, louder, angry at the mere thought of it. He grabbed Loki's shoulders. "Loki, whatever he may have done was explicitly against Father's orders-"

"He didn't do anything to me." Loki pushed away his hands. "What are you babbling on about? Did you drink all of Stark's store of alcohol?"

Thor searched Loki's face before he breathed out a sigh of relief, convinced that his brother was telling the truth. But that didn't mean the conversation was over. "Why do you think we are going to torture you?"

Loki's brow furrowed deeper. "What?"

"Dr Banner asked me if we were beaten as children."

Loki's expression turned incredulous. "What?" he demanded, in much the same way Thor had. "Why would he think that?"

Thor looked down at Loki with a creased brow. He should have been asking himself so many questions that he had not. "He could think of no explanation to justify your expectations."

"Oh, so just because they are barbarians must mean that Asgard is just as barbaric?" Loki shook his head, and then frowned. "You brought me all the way up here just to share that oh so interesting little tidbit of information, Thor? What is it that you really want?"

"Why do you expect us to torture you?" Thor asked, his shoulders sagging. "What have we done to make you think that we will act in such a manner?"

"You have no reason not to," Loki said flatly after a moment of silence.

Thor stepped towards him. Loki stepped back. Thor stopped, shocked at the flicker of fear he saw in his brother's eyes. They were real, these fears. He truly did believe that they would torture him. Thor took a step back, unable to wrap his mind around it. What had he done to warrent such fear? "You are a prisoner, Loki. There is no reason to-"

"No reason? Just look at this city, Thor," Loki spat, flinging his arm out in a broad, sweeping gesture. "You don't think they want revenge for that? Torture is the least people like them think that people like me deserve."

"Even if that were so, which it is not, I would not allow it!"

Loki laughed at him, turning away. "So I shouldn't expect you to hold me down while they break my fingers then?"

As irrational as it was, Thor felt betrayed by the lack of this most basic trust in his brother. He stared at Loki, perplexed. "What have I ever done to make you think that I would permit such actions, Loki? What have I done to make you think that I would do it myself?"

"Are you pretending that you didn't kick me through a window, or has it slipped your mind? And in Asgard on the rainbow bridge when-"

"That was different, and you know it," Thor argued, his stomach knotting in on itself. "You forced my hand. In order to defend-"

"Oh, I see." Loki turned again, furious. "So in battle you can kill me, but now you will not let these people lift a finger against me?"

Thor's brow knit. He was at a loss for words. Was that really what Loki thought, or was it more of his silver tongue, twisting things to make Thor feel guilty, and perhaps lower his guard? If the former, it was working. Thor felt sick. "Brother, I would never have killed you."

Loki stared at him, perplexed, and then laughed. Bitterly, angrily, hatefully. "You are the worst of hypocrites."

"I would not!"

"Then you are a bigger fool then I thought." Loki glowered. "I would not extend the same courtesy to you. If it were in my power, I would kill you right now." Thor saw the truth of Loki's words burning in his eyes. Loki walked to the edge of the building. "And if your friends really are sincere in their pledge not to harm me, then they are fools as well. Were our places reversed, I would do to them everything that they claim they will not do to me."

"Then we are all fools." Thor stepped forward. The sun felt too hot on his head. "What happened to you, Loki? What happened after you fell from Asgard to make you think that torture and death is all that you can expect?"

Loki spun around, fire in his eyes. "After I fell?"

The consuming anger in Loki's voice made Thor stop again. He didn't understand what Loki meant. Had something happened before he had let go of Gungnir to fall into the abyss? "What happened in Asgard, then? When were you tortured in the palace? When did a single person raise their hand to you?"

Loki stared incredulously at him, laughed bitterly and turned around again. He looked down at the street below and Thor suddenly felt a deep fear seize him. He tried to soften his tone. "You know how prisoners are treated. They are not beaten like stray dogs."

"So you admit that you beat stray dogs, helpless animals that have done no wrong and cannot defend themselves," Loki spat.

"Why must you always twist everything to feed your anger?"

"You are the one who is angry now."

"Brother-"

"I am not your brother!"

"YES YOU ARE!"

"Shut up," Loki seethed. "Shut up, you insufferable fool! I was never your brother, never Odin's son, never of Asgard!"

"Why will you not see the truth?" Thor pleaded.

"There is no truth to see."

Thor stepped forward, wondering if he should grab Loki and drag him back from the edge. His brother was still staring down into the street. "Loki-"

Loki turned and raised his eyebrows at Thor's tone. He gestured to the far below street. "What, you think I'm going to take the coward's way out? Do you think that I will kill myself and save Odin from doing it, save your conscience, whatever it may be, from guilt? No, Thor, I am not prepared to that that leap yet."

Yet. The word made Thor's fear deepen. Loki must have seen it, because his brow furrowed as he stared back at the god of thunder.

"Are you so convinced that I hate you? Loki, I would gladly lay down my life if it meant that you would remember who you are."

Loki glared at him coldly. "You will have to. Now I'm sure you human friends are just dying to play that stupid dancing game."

He marched towards the door. Thor stood still for some time before following.

Chapter Text

Thor wanted Bruce tell everybody else about the mop incident, and he tried to make his version of the tale believable. Everybody was taken aback by Loki's expectations. Barton was very clear in making sure that they all knew (especially Thor) that he had pledged to support the team and he would, no matter his personal feelings on the matter.

The team spent a lot of time discussing the incident. It was decided that they would still attempt to put their plan of "Loki-assimilation" into action. It wasn't easy. Forcing Loki to participate in their activities was difficult and stressing, and trying to make him behave was next to impossible. But they certainly tried.

#

"My turn!" Tony exclaimed, drawing a slip of paper out of a hat. They were playing charades, and each of them had contributed four phrases to act out. Tony read what was written on the piece he had just drawn, and his eyebrows shot up. He glanced over at Loki, whose returning gaze was the picture of innocence. "All right, I think we need to lay down some ground rules."

#

"We're all going to draw pictures," Steve announced, walking into the library. Loki and Banner, the only occupants, looked up. Stark and Miss Potts both had to go to a meeting at Stark Industry, Romanoff and Barton had a meeting with Fury, and Thor came trailing in behind Steve rather reluctantly.

"You want to draw pictures?" Banner repeated incredulously, closing his book.

"Are you feeling ill, captain?" Loki asked rudely.

Steve gave them both a stern look. "We're drawing pictures," he ordered.

"No," Loki said instantly.

"Yes."

"We all are," Thor muttered, clearly wanting to help support Steve but equally as reluctant to draw.

"Steve, I'm not too sure..." Bruce trailed off.

"I've got sketchbooks and pencil crayons and pencils and everything else," Steve wheedled. "Come on, I'm bored of those dancing videos."

"All right," Banner sighed.

"I thought humans had rules against cruel and unusual punishment towards their prisoners," Loki muttered, but nonetheless put his book aside and joined the three men. Steve handed out the sketchbooks and then they all took up various drawing utensils and found a place to sit. Steve quite enjoyed the communal drawing, the only sound in the air the scratching of pencil against paper.

"Done," Loki said after only about ten minutes, sliding his sketchbook across the floor towards Steve. He went back to his chair and began reading again.

Steve looked at the picture the demigod had drawn and felt a little ill. "That's a lot of red."

"It's supposed to be blood," Loki retorted.

"Yeah, I got that." Steve picked up the sketchbook and handed it to a questioning Thor.

The picture that Loki had drawn was of very detailed stickmen, obviously representing the Avengers. They were all getting disembowelled, beheaded, strung up by grappling hooks and various other such gruesome images. In the middle was a stickman-Loki with his arms risen victoriously, standing on the trademark items of the Avengers. Thor handed the book to Banner, whose eyebrows rose immediately.

"Where am I?" he asked after a moment of looking at the picture.

Loki lowered his book. "What?"

"I'm not here," Banner replied, walking over to Loki to show him. "Unless that's me who's on fire."

"No, that's Captain Spangles."

"Spangles?" Steve repeated. "You have been spending too much time with Stark."

"Huh," Banner said musingly. "So you forgot me. And Pepper. Are we really that unmemorable?"

Loki opened his mouth, gazing at the picture, and then closed it again. After a moment he shrugged. "Well, somebody's got to be left. I don't want to rule over a bunch of rotting corpses," he muttered defiantly, and lifted his book again.

Steve looked back at his paper, and sighed. "I guess this was a bad idea, huh?"

Thor quickly returned his sketchbook. He had drawn what appeared to be a melting mountain. "You said it, not me."

#

Clint grinned victoriously as he beat Banner at Wii swordplay. He playfully punched the scientist's shoulder and then handed his remote to Thor. He settled down beside Natasha, who rolled her eyes at him.

"You were toying with him, Barton," she muttered.

"I didn't want him to feel bad by losing straight away," he replied. "Hey, with all his smarts and money, why does Stark have a Wii instead of something cool?"

Banner handed his Wii remote to Loki. The little demigod heaved an exasperated sigh, but set aside his latest book and took the remote. The brothers began to virtually duel it out. It soon became apparent to Natasha that this was no game on Loki's part. His face contorted with concentration and he lashed his remote around expertly. Thor responded in the like, and slowly they began to inch their way closer to the TV as they each strained to outdo the other.

Finally, they were dead even; one blow from either would end the fight. Loki's virtual character stumbled, allowing room for Thor's character to strike a mighty blow- which he didn't. Loki's character recovered and quickly dispatched Thor's character. Loki, snorting in disgust, practically threw his remote to Pepper, picked up his book again, and sat down.

#

"Okay, so laser tag wasn't the best idea," Tony muttered, taking the gear from Bruce and stuffing it into a closet.

They had decided to break off into teams of two by random draw. Barton and Loki had been one team, and the game hadn't even started before they had shot each other. And then, when Rodgers had started a lecture about cooperation, Loki stole Pepper's gun, shot him and then Romanoff, Thor, Tony, and lastly Bruce. Then, when Pepper dryly remarked that she had won, he had shot her, too.

"Could have been worse," Bruce replied with a shrug. "Could have been paintball."

#

"Stark, this tower is haunted," Loki snapped, setting aside Sophocles's Oedipus Rex to glare at Stark.

Stark raised his brows. "Why do you say that?"

Loki swatted at the air. "I keep feeling people hugging me. At least fifteen-" he shuddered suddenly. "Make that sixteen."

"I have felt a few hugs as well," Thor added, looking up from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.

Stark looked between the two of them, nonplused. "All right. That is a little weird. Maybe you should hug them back. Hey! Who wants to play poker?"

#

"I can't believe we let the women talk us into this," Steve muttered as he carefully began applying a coat of polish on Barton's nails. Various pink, purple, and floral sleeping bags were strewn around the theatre room.

"Not diagonally!" Barton exclaimed. "You have to paint with the nail, Cap."

"How do you even know that?"

Barton rolled his eyes. "As an agent of S.H.E.I.L.D., I have had to do my fair share of spying, and a good spy makes use of any method available to stay undercover. See, you paint it like this."

"Why don't you just do your own nails?" Steve groaned.

Barton smirked and shook his head. "You need to learn how to do this. What if you get married and have three little girls and then your wife goes away on business? Are you going to tell your angelic little daughters 'Sorry, Daddy won't play makeup with you because he's too butch to give you the love and affection that you need and deserve.' Is that what you're going to say?"

"That's not fair," Steve complained, taking the brush back. He glanced at the others. Natasha was curling Thor's hair, Miss Potts was explaining to Stark how to apply lipstick, and Loki was turning Banner into some sort of purple creature with black scars and red whiskers. Steve shrugged and bent over Barton's nails again. "So did Romanoff teach you this stuff?"

"No. Coulson did. He was my mentor when I joined SHIELD... the only place I ever had family."

Steve hesitated, not knowing what to say.

"You know what, I'll just do this myself," Barton said coldly, taking the nail polish.

#

"If you want us to chain you up so badly, then we will."

Loki was bitterly triumphant when Thor hauled him to his room, stopping only briefly to pick up Mjölnir. Romanoff followed silently, and once in Loki's room she snapped the shackle of a set of handcuffs on one wrist. They made him sit in the middle of the room, and then Thor put Mjölnir on the empty cuff, pinning him there. They left without a word.

Finally they will show their true colors, Loki thought with a twisted smile.

Two weeks since the game started, he had had enough of their lie. They had decided to play a stupid Wii game; he took the remote and hurled it against the TV screen, breaking both. They set up Monopoly; he ate the paper money he was given and ripped the board in half. They moved off to one side to determine what to do next, he grabbed a marker and drew salacious pictures on the coffee table. They gave him a bucket of water to clean it off, he dumped it over the carpet. It only ended when he had gotten hold of a pair of scissors and disembowelled the couch.

He was alone in his room for hours, contemplating all the things he wished he could do to them. But when at last the door opened, his grin disappeared when he saw who they sent. Potts. She was no pain warden. Were they seriously continuing their lie that he would come under no pain? He glowered hostilely at her as she sat beside him.

"I wish you would try to understand what we're trying to do here."

Loki turned his glare to Mjölnir. "I understand it perfectly. You think that I am stupid enough to let down my defences so that you can torment me emotionally as well as physically."

"We're not going to torture you."

"I've heard that one before."

Potts cupped his face with her hand in a gesture that so suddenly reminded him of Frigga that his heart cried out for his mother before he could stop it.

"Loki, we aren't going to torture you."

Loki looked at her and despite himself, he believed her. At least, he believed that she believed. "Whether you do or do not is irrelevant," he told her coldly. "I am stuck on this worthless planet until Odin sends for me, and he will not do that until he decides on the method of my execution."

He had wanted her to be disgusted, maybe horrified, but instead her eyes filled with compassion. Exactly what he did not want to see.

"You can't really believe that," she argued. "He's your father."

"No. I killed my father. I lured him to Asgard and then I murdered him, without leaving enough of his body to send back to Jotunhiem for the funerary rites that are so important to the Frost Giants. And I am glad that I did." Loki bared his teeth in a savage grin.

And there was the horror in Potts's eyes that he wanted to see. He expected her to leave, but she didn't. Instead, she pulled a key from her pocket, and reaching over unlocked the handcuff. He rubbed his wrist, not because the cuff had been too tight, per se, but it had been uncomfortable.

"What's-" Potts started, frowning at his arm. She reached over to gently take hold of his hand. She turned his arm so that the inside of his wrist was facing her. And he let her, even though he knew what she was going to do next. She pushed his sleeve up to his elbow, revealing the long, thin scar that was there. He watched her face as understanding came to her eyes. "When did this happen?"

Loki pulled away and covered his arm again. "A long time ago."

Potts opened her mouth, looking hesitant. She wavered for a moment, and then sighed. "Would you like to be alone for a while?"

"Yes," Loki replied tersely.

"All right. I'll think of something to tell the others." She stood to go.

"Don't tell Thor," Loki said suddenly. Potts glanced back at him, and he twitched his arm. "Don't tell him."

After a moment, Potts nodded. "I won't."

That night when Loki's nightmares began and a million voices were calling for his death, Pepper Potts shouted the loudest.

#

A change came over Loki after Pepper talked with him. He was still forced to participate in the Avenger's activities, and he was still reluctant and occasionally hostile, but never as destructive as he had been before. Rarely was he seen without a book. The Avengers themselves benefited from their more intense interactions, relaxing in each other's company instead of splintering into smaller groups. As the mood of the tower settled, Pepper found herself oddly looking forward to coming home at the end of work rather than finding excuses to stay longer.

Loki grew rapidly, at the end of three months looking approximately twelve or thirteen. Pepper often saw him rubbing his limbs. She guessed that growing that quickly would be very painful, but he refused the Tylenol that she attempted to give him. He would also go through bursts where he refused to eat, punctuated by times when he actually out-ate Thor. The brothers hardly acknowledged each other's presence, although it was rare to see one without the other.

Pepper thought of all this one day while they watched a movie – Barton and Natasha had finally convinced them to watch James Bond as a mid-afternoon break. They were giggling madly. Pepper found it highly annoying, but decided that she would let the assassins laugh at whatever they wanted to find funny. She wasn't much into the movie anyway.

"Looks like little Loki left us for la-la-land," Tony whispered, leaning over to her, jerking his chin at the armchair that Loki was curled in, his head lolling backwards. He was fast asleep.

Pepper watched the demigod for a while. Frowning, she noticed that Loki's eyes were flickering under the lids and he periodically twitched. At first she thought that it was due to the explosions in the movie but soon realised that the timing didn't match up. As one particularly bright flash from the TV illuminated the room, she saw that sweat coated his face.

"Turn on the light," she ordered as she lunged for the remote. Jarvis responded and the Avengers let out a more or less simultaneous groan of protest. Pepper ignored them, turning off the movie. In the new quiet, she clearly heard Loki's pained whimpers.

"Pep-" Tony started as she started towards the sleeping demigod.

Pepper ignored him. She knelt by Loki's chair. "Loki?"

Loki cowered in his sleep.

"Loki, wake up," Pepper said gently. She reached out and stroked his dark hair from his pale, clammy face.

Loki grew still for a moment, and let out a deep, shuddering sigh. Pepper continued to stroke his hair and glanced up at Thor. He had come to hover behind her. His expression was anxious and perplexed.

"What is happening?"

At the sound of Thor's voice, Loki started. He stirred and moaned. "Thor-" he whimpered. "Brother, please-"

He jerked forward, eyes flying open. A soft cry tore from his lips. Pepper saw confusion in his eyes, and as he blinked rapidly tears clung to his eyelashes. She kept her hand reached out to him. Loki's gaze locked on her eyes and for a split second he relaxed, relief coming over his face. Then the second was over and a panicked gleam came to his eyes.

Suddenly his hands shot out. Pepper felt something slam against her chest. The breath was knocked from her and she was flying across the room. Something cracked as she hit the wall. Flames erupted throughout the room. The Avengers were shouting. The fire and smoke and sounds swirled around her. She couldn't focus, and could hardly breathe.

Tony threw himself to her side, calling her name, but Pepper couldn't make her lips move to reply.

Chapter Text

The bands cut into Loki's wrists as the crackling prongs lashed across his back. He bit his lips so hard that they bled; he tasted the copper on his tongue. He fought the pain, but his body betrayed him; his muscles tensed and twitched and the cries choked his throat, making it hard to breathe. He longed for the end of it all. He heard laughter all around him. He recognised some voices: Sif, Volstagg, Fandrel, Hogun. Others he knew as Chitauri from the high-pitched wail behind their laughs.

"My sweet boy, why have you betrayed us?" Frigga's voice whispered.

Her hand touched his face and the pain relented. He looked up and saw Thor, standing in front of him. A light shone behind the god of thunder's head and lightning flickered in the sky. Thor looked down at Loki, an impassive expression on his hard face. The hammer was in his hand. Loki stared back at him, knowing that forgivness would never be possible, but wishing that it was.

"Thor," he begged. "Brother, please-"

He woke with a start, jerking forward. Lights were blinding him and he didn't know where he was. The pain was gone but the hand was still there, pressing against his face. His gaze focussed. Pepper Potts kneeled before him, her gaze worried. Loki felt himself relax as he realised where he was. Stark tower. With the Avengers. Safe, he thought, I'm safe.

The brief second of calm terrified him. He could not lower his defenses.

The panic burned through him and he lashed out instinctively, sending a blast of magic into Potts's chest. It slammed her across the room. She hit the wall with a sickening thud. The Avengers seemed to take a colletive gasp. Flames arched from Loki's palms, setting the sofa and walls ablaze, cutting him off from the others in the room. Thor lunged for him, but he fed magic into the flames and they reared so high that Thor backed away, shielding his face from the fire. The others were shouting, but they likewise couldn't brave the flames.

Loki tore from the room. Blood pounded in his ears. A sparkler system sprang on, soaking him in seconds. He raced towards the elevator, knowing that he had no time, no plan, and nowhere to go, but also knowing that he could not stay. He sent a bolt of magic into the keypad, and felt it wind throughout the Stark tower systems, disabling every security measure and Stark's virtual butler.

The elevator doors dinged open, and Loki leaned in to hit the button for the ground floor before dashing back up the corridor. Magic drained from his body like blood from an open wound. With effort, he severed his connections to the flames in the theatre. He dove into the nearest room and hid behind the door just in time; he heard numerous footsteps thunder past. Mjolnir lay near the foot of the bed, which was huge and neatly made. Thor's room.

"Loki!" Thor shouted, angry and desperate. The hammer came to life, whizzing through the wall. Loki flinched and dodged under the bed to hide himself.

Barton was with Thor. "He's disabled Jarvis. Stark!"

"He's taking care of Pepper." That was Banner. His voice was stressed. "I'll see if I can override the controls."

"I said this was a bad idea," Barton snarled. "He should have never been allowed to roam free."

Ah. So it seemed as though all the humans weren't out of their minds. Barton had kept his sanity and was just overruled by the insanity of the others. Loki could have laughed. How ironic, that it was Barton, of all people, who was most in agreement with Loki's own thinking.

"Barton, get to the tower top," Rodger's voice ordered. "Watch the street, he has to come out somewhere. Thor, Romanoff, take the stairs. See if you can cut him off. Banner, work on that elevator."

Loki pressed himself against the floor as the footsteps dispersed. He tried to be as still as he could. If he made a sound, if he was discovered, it was all over. He could feel his muscles trembling and wiped the sweat off his face. The nightmare had left adrenaline pumping through his body and he knew that what he had done was a mistake, but it was too late to change course now.

He took a deep breath, listening to the sounds still in the corridor. He needed to plan what his next step was. He was still stuck in the tower, but the Avengers were scattered trying to find him in places where he wasn't. That was his advantage. When they didn't find him, they would spread out in the city to find him. Then he would actually be able to escape while they searched for him.

"I don't get it," Rogers said, and Loki forced himself to listen. "Why did he panic like that?"

"I can't stop this elevator," Banner replied after a moment of silence.

Rogers grunted. "Barton, are you on the roof? Hurry, Banner can't stop the elevator and Loki's almost on the ground. We can't afford to let him loose on the streets. Banner, can you turn off these sprinklers?"

"Bruce!" Stark's voice shouted from the direction of the kitchen. He was panicked. "Pepper's bleeding and I can't stop it!"

Loki's stomach clenched with worry. He hadn't meant to hurt her. He hadn't controlled the magic blast. But what did it matter? He had no loyalty to her, no reason to worry for her well-being. He tried to banish the knot of guilt in his stomach, but it only wound tighter.

Rogers' and Banner's footsteps went back up the corridor and Loki allowed himself to release the pent-up breath from his lungs. Using that much magic had left him physically weak. No doubt he would also lose a significant amount of years. Already he could feel his clothing loosen on his frame. How quickly would he shrink this time?

It wasn't long before he heard Banner, Rogers and Stark again, but judging by how quickly they passed they were taking Potts to a medical facility. Silence ensued, and Loki knew he was alone. The sprinklers were still going.

How had he allowed himself to be so relaxed that he fell asleep in their presence? And then lashing out the moment he was awakened... The stupidity of his actions crashed down on him. He was already too young to move about the planet without drawing attention to himself, and now it would be even harder. He had only a tiny window, if any at all, to actually make his escape from the tower. He had no plan of where he would go or what he would do to avoid being recaptured. He didn't even have a starting point for finding some way off the planet. But if he stayed-

"It's too late," he told himself again. "It's too late to change anything,"

Forcing aside his despair and guilt, Loki began to plan. He scrambled out from under the bed and began searching the room for anything that he could use. In the bathroom cupboard, he found a box of hair dye that had a woman smiling at him from underneath a mop of hair that was similar to Thor's. Considering the box, Loki thought about the blue dress that Stark had bought as a joke at the beginning of this imprisonment. Well. It was a start.

Chapter Text

Clint paced around the rooftop edge of Stark tower, cursing that it had taken him so long to get to the top, and that once there he had no single vantage point to see all the streets below. He had already been watching for close to an hour and had seen nothing. He was well aware that Loki could have already disappeared far below; there were plenty of alleys and overhangs to hide escape.

Or approach, Clint thought bitterly as he noticed a little blond girl in a blue dress far below. He hadn't seen her coming. A feeling of helplessness gave birth to a blazing ball of fury that settled in Clint's chest. Loki was back on the streets, ready to cause havoc and death, ready to put the world in jeopardy again, because Potts and Stark thought he was a cute kid.

Not just because of Potts and Stark, he reminded himself. They all agreed on this, and I agreed to agree with them. And it had worked, strangely enough, until that day- No. Loki was just planning. He was examining our weaknesses and we let ourselves get too relaxed. We played right into his scheme.

"Barton, you got anything?" Rogers asked over the headset.

"No. He's long gone by now."

Rogers couldn't hide the anger from his voice. "Keep a lookout. There's always a chance that he managed to hide in the building."

"Have you heard anything from Stark about Pepper?" Natasha asked. Like the captain and Banner, she was searching ground-level several blocks away.

"He's still at the hospital. She's regained consciousness, but they're not certain the extent of her injuries yet," Rogers replied.

Clint paced along the edge of the rooftop more, not replying to Rodger's statement. While he was glad that Potts wasn't dead, he couldn't spare any thoughts to her well-being. Not while Loki could still possibly be within range of his bow. He didn't care what Thor thought, not now. Even if Loki had been different a thousand years ago, there was no going back after what he had done.

On the street, the little girl had rejoined her mother and was walking swiftly away from Stark tower. Clint cursed under his breath. He had never felt so useless. He should have reacted faster when Loki had blasted Potts across the room. He should have gotten to the demigod before the flames erupted. That was why he was there, and instead he had let the most dangerous, evil man on the planet just stroll away.

"I don't think we're going to get anywhere with this," Banner sighed. "Loki's too smart to get caught out in the open."

There was a long moment of silence, then Rogers spoke again. "We keep looking for another hour, and then we reassemble at Stark tower. I'll call Stark and tell him to let Fury know what's happened. It's not going to be pretty."

Clint stopped his pacing. 'Not going to be pretty' was a mild way to put how Director Fury would react to the fact that the team – earth's supposedly mightiest heroes, who were supposedly relatively intelligent – had let a prisoner escape. Not just any prisoner, but Loki. In broad daylight no less! He breathed deeply to calm himself. His fingers curled around the bow and he was tempted to shot a passing bird just to prove that he could do something. Instead, he silently vowed to himself that when he found Loki, Thor or no Thor, that childlike face would elicit no mercy or pity.

#

The dress was hanging off him within an hour, and the next hour he ducked into a department store in order to find new clothes for the dress was in danger of falling off entirely. Loki hiked the skirt with one hand as he wandered behind some random woman. He was close enough so that people would assume that he (or rather, the little girl he was pretending to be) belonged to her, but not so close that she actually noticed him. He dragged his newly-blond hair in front of his face to hide it and snatched a pair of sparkly star-shaped sunglasses from the diaper bag of a harried mother, but it was hardly a good disguise and the curious looks he was receiving due to the tent-like effect the dress was having weren't helping any.

Fortunately, he wasn't called the god of mischief for nothing. After an hour in the department store, he had picked up a new set of clothes that fit him, a pink t-shirt and black skirt, in keeping with the little girl disguise. He also picked up a plain black backpack, which would come in handy, a pair of scissors, and a few sets of boy's clothing for when he rid himself of the ruse, and several day's worth of canned foods and bottled water. Needless to say, his methods would have been frowned upon if anybody had taken care to notice what he was doing.

His next step would be trickier. He wouldn't be able to leave New York easily, not yet. This itself was both an advantage and a disadvantage. The Avengers would know what he would be trying to leave the city, and look outside of it. Yet they, too, would know the difficulties for a child to get on a bus and ride away and so concentrate on the city

In the end, Loki realised that it didn't really matter. They would contact Fury, and the S.H.I.E.L.D. director had enough resources to search the whole planet. Cameras would send his image across the globe and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s face-recognition software would be able to pinpoint his location within minutes.

"Hey, are you lost?" a woman in a spangled uniform reminiscent of Captain America bent down over Loki, a smile on her face.

Loki quickly shook his head. "My mother is just over there."

The woman didn't look convinced. "Where?"

"Over there."

"Sweetheart, are you sure?"

Loki bristled. It was bad enough that he was stuck looking like a child, let alone to be treated like one! However, if it was one thing he was certain of, it was that adults didn't like it when children were smarter than they were, and he wanted this woman to go away so he could think. So he replied with the most condescending air that he could muster.

"I assure you that there is no need for concern, madam, and your term of endearment has no meaning upon myself and would be better suited directed at an infantile mind such as your own. Now please leave me be or I will start screaming to the whole store that you are trying to kidnap me, and I am certain that you would not find the subsequent court case pleasant."

It worked. The smile dropped from the spangled woman's face and she stood up. After a moment and staring down at him as if she didn't think he was real, the woman left Loki alone to his thoughts. He clasped his head in his hands to hide what little of his face could be seen from the security cameras.

He had already "deaged" to look about six years old in the hours since he had used his magic, and wasn't certain if he would continue to shrink. He needed to find a safe place to stay hidden while he regained the magic and years he had lost. Someplace with no cameras that could spot him and few people to turn him in.

Unfortunately a child in those places, even when the child was in actuality a few thousand years old (not to mention a god), would be vulnerable to attack. He needed a place where he would go completely unnoticed. A place where people wouldn't even know he was there. And he had no idea where to look. He had been slowly gleaning information from the Avengers, the news that they watched at times, and from the books in the library, but nothing substantial about the planet. They were too careful for that.

Well. He couldn't stay in the department store forever. He had spent too long in one place already. Slinging the heavy backpack over his thin shoulders, Loki adjusted the ducky barrettes in his hair and headed out onto the streets of New York.

#

Bruce was the first to return to the tower. New York was just too big a city to find Loki by luck, but if he got Jarvis up and running again, they would be able to do a digital search. Despite the fact that Loki's fire had died suddenly after the demigod ran from the room, the sprinklers were still going throughout the tower. Probably because of whatever Loki had done to disable Jarvis. The lab which Bruce stopped in had an inch of water on the floor. He went to a control panel, but after several minutes decided that either Tony was crazy or Loki's magic had seriously messed things up. He didn't understand anything he was seeing.

"Tony, I need you to get back to the tower," he said through the earpiece. "I can't do anything with these systems."

After Tony reluctantly agreed to return, Bruce headed up to the guest floor. He wasn't willing to take the elevator, and was surprised that the sprinklers hadn't even turned on in the stairwell.

The guest floor likewise had had the sprinklers turned off, although the carpet was still soggy underfoot. Bruce frowned as he smelled the acidic scent of ammonia. The door to Loki's room was ajar, and he cautiously entered. The wardrobe doors were flung open, and the clothes that Loki had been wearing when Bruce last saw him were strewn over the floor. A box of blonde hair dye was lying ripped open and empty nearby. Bruce swore and turned on his earpiece.

"Tony, you bought Loki a blue dress at the beginning of all this, didn't you?"

"What about it?" Tony snapped back rudely.

"It's gone. He was still in the tower when we left to search. And now he's disguised himself as a little blonde girl.”

Chapter Text

There were a lot of terms that Tony could apply to Director Nick Fury, but "cheery" and "humorous" weren't among them. "Intimidating" and "pushy" usually worked. "Scary" and "livid" were ones that best applied to the director as he glared at the avengers as they sat around a table in one of the board room of the helicarrier. Tony could have sworn he saw fire in Fury's one eye.

"You did what?" he spat out at them, as if he hadn't already heard the explanation three times.

For once in his life, Tony wasn't in the mood to make jokes, and was more than happy to let the others do all the talking.

"We made a call, sir," Rogers replied, ever the bold solider. "We were in agreement."

"And you two agreed to this?" Fury demanded of Barton and Romanoff, whose individual nervousness showed just how bad the situation was.

"It was my idea," Romanoff replied, holding Fury's eye contact, although she twisted her hands in her lap. "And I won't say that it was wrong. He panicked, sir. This wasn't a planned escape. That is to our advantage."

"What would have been to our advantage is if you hadn't let him escape in the first place!" Fury roared, slamming his fist into the table. "I gave this team a mission to keep Loki locked up away from the world, and you just let him stroll out onto the streets of New York because you decided to go all lovey-dovey on him?"

"It's doubtful that he's out of New York, with your..." Tony's voice got very small as Fury turned to glare at him. "With your people watching all the means of leaving and combing the streets."

"We don't even know what to look for," Fury countered, obviously not placated. "How old is he? Is he still disguised as a girl, or is he switching back and forth? Can he use magic to shape shift?"

Thor spoke. "Loki cannot change his appearance with this spell that my father put upon him. He is bound to appear as his current physical form is."

"I can update the facial recognition software to account for different ages, and I don't think that gender will be much of an issue since he's got the same face for girl or boy," Tony suggested, getting his voice back. He tried not to show how much Fury was actually scaring him, and how worried that he was. The doctors said that Pepper would be fine, but he still felt guilty for letting her get hurt in the first place. He should have been watching closer. He shouldn't have let Loki anywhere near her.

"And in the meantime, he's out there doing who knows what to this city. He could do a lot of damage before he find him again. What were you thinking? Especially you, Romanoff and Barton! I thought that you would be smarter than this!" Fury's one eye bored a hole into Romanoff's returning gaze, but she didn't flinch.

It was Barton that replied. "We made a call."

Tony noticed the delicate stress that Barton laid on 'we'. He half-smiled and reminded himself to do something nice for the assassin sometime in the future. Out of all of them, he was most in accordance with Fury's line of thinking but even with his hatred of Loki, his loyalty to the team was stronger... well, loyalty to Romanoff, in any case.

"I am well aware that you made a call, Agent Barton," Fury replied, fully earning his name with the look on his face. "What I can't understand is how all of you were so stupid to think that it was a good call."

"I didn't think it was a good call," Romanoff replied, with a bit more starch in her voice than what was normal when she spoke to the director. "I felt like it was."

Fury looked like his head was about to explode. His jaw clenched and a vein pulsed in his temple. "You- felt-" he ground out between his gritted teeth. "Felt-"

Tony decided that now wasn't the best time to tell Fury that he was ineloquent when he was angry. The Avengers waited in silence as Fury closed his eye and took deep breaths. His fists slowly relaxed, and after a moment he let out a long breath and was able to look at the team again without looking like he wanted to kill them all.

"Can you explain that statement, Agent Romanoff?"

Tony glanced over at Romanoff was surprised to see that she was apprehensive. She was the one who was always in total control of her emotions. She broke eye contact with Fury to look down at the table for a moment, collecting her thoughts. Tony glanced at Barton, and by the expression on the assassin's face he hadn't heard Romanoff's argument before.

"Before he died, Agent Coulson and I discussed Loki," she began, and her voice was softer than Tony expected. "Phil thought that Loki wanted to lose. I have come to the same conclusion." She looked up to Fury and her gaze was confident with her words. "The more I watched him, the more I was convinced of it."

Tony's eyebrows arched in confusion. "But if he wanted to lose, then why did he even come here?"

"I don't think he realised that he wanted to lose," Romanoff replied. "But he knew that if he came to earth, Thor would come. He wanted to go home."

"He could have returned without waging war on your planet," Thor cut in, looking agitated.

"Wait, you said that one of the reasons that you brought him back here was because the Asgardians want to kill him," Rogers interrupted, leaning back in his chair. "That doesn't really sound all that forgiving."

"The people are angry that he is Jötunn, but he is the one who told them, during his trial," Thor explained. "Until his actions on earth, very few people of Asgard knew about what he had done, and my family would have rejoiced to know that he lived. We would have welcomed back with our full love, even if we could not have given him our trust."

"And all this is kind of my point," Romanoff interjected. "After what he did to you, he didn't think that he could return. He didn't think that there was any way that you and your parents could forgive him, or love him again, so he came here. We look Asgardian, if nothing else, and he knew that you would come to take him back.

"Loki doesn't think he deserves forgiveness," Romanoff continued. "That's why he always got so angry with you, Thor. He hates himself, and doesn't understand why you don't. He hates you for it. It's also why he ran. After the magical incident with Clint, he wasn't just expecting us to torture him. He wanted us to."

Romanoff's confidence made the argument sound reasonable, but Tony was confused and unconvinced. "Why would he want to be tortured?"

"Being tortured is an effective painkiller," Romanoff replied softly, and the look in her eyes was raw emotion. "Guilt hurts a lot worse than any physical pain."

"So you're saying that he's feeling guilty?" Bruce asked, furrowing his brow and leaning his elbows on the table.

"As far as I can tell."

"Be that as it may," Fury interrupted, but the anger had gone out of his voice, "he is still loose on the streets. He could do a lot of damage and we can't let that happen."

"Are we still on the mission, sir?" Rogers asked.

Tony hadn't thought that Fury would take them off the 'Loki case'. A frown creased his brow as he looked at the director. It might be a good idea to assign another team to find Loki, if only for the demigod's own protection. Barton wasn't going to go easy on him. As for himself, Tony didn't think a hundred Thors could stop him from ignoring how young and cute Loki looked, and remembering everything he had done and acting accordingly. Pepper had gotten hurt. Loki had hurt her. If it was true that Loki hated himself, he certainly wasn't the only one.

Fury looked around the table at each of the Avengers. Tony glanced at Thor, but the demigod wore a stony warrior's expression that Tony couldn't read one way or another.

"No. This team knows Loki best. I expect that you will be able to find him." Fury stepped back and folded his arms. "You beat Loki once. Do it again."

"Yes, sir," Barton replied, and the tone of his voice made Tony wonder if he was going to take the 'beat Loki' bit literally.

#

"Agent Romanoff, may I speak with you?"

Natasha looked up from the computer screen she was studying to see Thor somewhat nervously approach. She pushed back from the desk and gestured to a nearby chair. "I wouldn't have said it if I hadn't meant it."

If Thor was surprised that she knew what he was going to say, he didn't show it. "I understand that you are very good at assessing people."

"That's what they tell me." Natasha had a pretty good idea what Thor was wanting to ask her about, but she waited, letting him come up with the words. He fidgeted, looking all around the room and not her.

It had been a few hours since Fury had left, and in that time the captain had divided them all into their respective tasks. After rebooting Jarvis – who sounded oddly like a cranky Stark when he was woken up for the first hour – Stark and Banner started hacking into every satellite known to S.H.I.E.L.D. to search electronically for Loki. Natasha was researching places in the city where it seemed likely that he would try to hide. Thor had been with Clint and Rogers, taking low-tech approach, searching the streets of the city by foot and car.

"What hope do you think there is for my brother?"

Natasha sighed. "I don't know."

"You must have some thoughts on the matter."

Natasha was silent for a long time, considering her next words. "Before I came to S.H.I.E.L.D., I did some pretty terrible things. I hated myself. I didn't think there was any way back from it. But there was, I just couldn't see it. It took Agent Barton and even then, I had to hit my absolute rock bottom before I understood that he was offering me a way out. But it was a conscious choice. I had to accept what I did was wrong, and embrace the guilt rather than keep running from it. I had to be willing to try to make up for my mistakes."

Thor looked away. "Loki was never one to apologise."

"I got that. How often did he starve himself rather than apologise to you for those petty insults?"

A ghost of a smile crossed Thor's lips.

Natasha reached over and put her hand over top of his. When he met her gaze, she tried to offer a small smile. "Whether or not there is hope for Loki is really entirely up to him. It really is whether he can hope, whether he can forgive himself."

"But you did?" Thor asked quietly, and there was a hope in his eyes that he clearly struggled to hide.

Natasha looked away again. "There is a difference. I never had love in my life, or mercy, not until Clint spared my life. I didn't know what forgiveness was. Loki does. He's had you his whole life. He wasn't lacking for kindness."

"Nor cruelty," Thor responded softly. "I never saw it growing up, but he was always treated as the lesser brother by the people. Always mocked because he did not have the stature that most of Asgard finds praiseworthy. Even his skills in magic – which far outweigh most powers in the realm – were taunted. It was thought... I thought that a real warrior had no need of such tricks. I was not there for him when he needed me. I did not realise that he did need me, needed kind words. He may have fallen, Agent Romanoff, but I fear that I pushed him."

"He made his own choices, Thor," Natasha responded. "Whatever you did or did not do, you can't blame yourself for the path that he took. Doing that is actually kind of arrogant."

Thor looked puzzled.

"It's denying him his own free will. Turning him into a force that can only be acted upon, rather than taking his own actions."

Thor smiled sadly at her attempt to comfort him. "And yet none of us are formed in a vacuum."

"No," she agreed. "We aren't."

They were silent for a moment, and Natasha could see how hard Thor tried not to let his worry, guilt, and anger show. She wondered what it was like for him, to be torn between duty to justice and love of family. Thor had to choose between fighting to save his brother and fighting against his brother.

The closest thing to family she could ever remember having was S.H.I.E.L.D., and it was like a large, organized system of distant cousins rather than the close bond of brothers that Thor and Loki had once shared. The only person she was truly close to was Clint. Even when Loki has him under the control of the sceptre, when she had been fighting for her life against him, she knew that it wasn't him. It was Loki that she had been fighting, not her best friend, Loki that had been trying to kill her, and she had been fighting not only to save her own life but Clint's as well.

"Are you well?" Thor asked, and Natasha realised that she had let herself get caught up in her emotions and memories.

"I'm fine. We should get back to work." Thor stood to go, but stopped when Natasha spoke again. "How old do you think he is now?"

"I do not know. Why?"

Natasha glanced out the window. "You said he was vulnerable as a child. It's getting dark. New York isn't a safe place for children at night."

Thor looked out the window. "Loki always specialized getting into trouble. But, he was just as adapt as getting out of it again. He's resourceful."

But his expression said that he wasn't convinced.

#

Loki spread out the last sheet of paper towel on the floor of the bathroom in the subway station before sitting down. His long day and shrinking so quickly had left him almost not caring that the room was filthy and smelly, with questionable substances spread over the walls. He had been in worse situations, anyway.

His thin shoulders ached from the heavy backpack, and he had lost a barrette an hour ago when a ragged, babbling woman had grabbed at his hair. He listened to the sounds of fighting in the station for a moment before rechecking the door, which he had magically welded to the doorframe. It was one giant piece of metal. He nodded, satisfied.

He changed into warmer clothes before curling up on the pile of paper towels. The sounds of fighting was escalating, breaking out into a physical brawl. Loki just hoped that neither side would produce weapons. He did not want to be in the center of a murder investigation. It would pose too great a risk of discovery. And he could never allow the Avengers to capture him again. They all liked Potts, and he had hurt her.

Hurt? he mused, his stomach tightening painfully as he forced himself to relive those moments in the tower. The thud as she hit the wall. Had he heard the smashing of bones, or was that a sound effect that his mind had supplied afterwards? Did I merely hurt her, or have I killed her?

Chapter Text

-Shall I send coffee, Dr Banner?-

"Yes, please," Bruce said, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes. There was only so much that he could do until the updates from S.H.I.E.L.D. finished initializing and Stark tower was connected to every wirelessly accessible camera on the planet. In the meantime he was writing a program to search through the internet and find any activity that might be Loki, and another one to work how quicky he would age. Tony had gone back to the hospital hours ago to let Pepper know what was happening, and the others were searching the streets again. They had been able to trace Loki to a department store, but the trail soon went dead after that.

One of Tony's robots – Bruce wasn't sure what this one was named, they all had such colorful monikers – wheeled up to him with a cup of steaming coffee. Bruce took it gratefully, brow furrowing as he contemplated the problem before him, and sipped at it. He spluttered, choking, and spat the liquid back into the mug.

"Jarvis, this isn't coffee. It's bourbon," Bruce complained, giving the robot back the mug.

-I apologise, sir. It seems that my programming still has a few glitches from Loki's magic.-

"You want me to take a look at it?"

-If you don't mind, I would prefer Mr. Stark to do so when he comes back. I don't doubt your abilities, but I'm afraid my creator is rather unorthodox and creative at solving what he considers "problems" and my programming can be a little bit finicky.-

Bruce shrugged. "No problem. I'll just make myself coffee."

-As you wish.-

Bruce got up and stretched the kinks out of his back. With the little robot toddling behind, nudging him every now and then to take the mug of hot bourbon back, he found a coffee pot and started brewing some of the premium stuff that Tony probably had shipped in directly from the supplier. It would be interesting to know how much Iron Man spent on coffee in a year. Probably almost as much as he did on alcohol.

"Jarvis, what's it like for you when you're out of commission?"

-I do not understand the question.-

"You know, like when Loki disabled you. What's that like?"

Jarvis was silent for a long time. Bruce started to worry that there had been another glitch.

-Mr Stark has several backup safety systems for me in case something such as that happens. I suppose it is similar to how you would feel if you were standing in an open field and suddenly somebody dropped a house on top of you. It is most unpleasant.-

"Sounds like it," Bruce commented, pouring himself a mug of the coffee. "And you had no idea what was going on?"

-I'm afraid not, sir.-

"You don't have to apologise. None of us knew that Loki could actually disable you so easily. He really panicked. That's weird. And he was having a nightmare, that's weird too."

-If I may say, sir, that it actually isn't as 'weird' as you may think.- Jarvis said coolly. -I monitored Loki closely at all times, as you know. He often had nightmares.-

Bruce frowned. "He did?"

-I did not think it was necessary to mention it. However, if I remember correctly, I would say that he doesn't sleep much at all because he wakes up at night. Often he would cry out. At first I believed it was because of the pain of aging so rapidly, but it is clear now that he was having nightmares.-

"Why?" Bruce wondered aloud.

-I cannot say, sir.-

"When did it start?"

Jarvis was silent for a moment, as if calculating the time or checking on his records. -It started right after his altercation with Agent Barton that they were waking him up.-

"But he was having nightmares before that?"

-It appears so. I thought that he was simply a restless sleeper.-

Bruce took a sip of his coffee. The robot, apparently offended that his beverage wasn't accepted, whirled over to the other side of the lab and made little chirping noises that sounded suspiciously like grumbling. Bruce suppressed a smile. Tony really did infuse his creations with facets of his own personality.

-Are Loki's nightmares significant, sir?-

Bruce sighed, returning his mind back to his conversation with Jarvis. "I don't know. Maybe."

-Shall I inform Agent Romanoff?-

"No, don't bother her with it," Bruce replied. "It's probably not that important."

-Bother who with what, sir?-

"Agent Romanoff, with Loki's nightmares," Bruce said slowly, glancing towards the speakers in the ceiling.

-Yes, he had been having them for quite a while. Shall I inform Miss Potts?-

Bruce sighed and took another drink of his coffee before setting the mug down. The robot on the other side of the room came over and stealthily replaced it with the cup it still held. "Jarvis, we can't wait for Tony to return. I'm going to take a look at your programming. You're still glitchy from the shock you took."

-Very well, sir. Shall I prepare coffee?-

Bruce shook his head and headed towards the computers.

#

The sky was dark blue behind the yellow glare of streetlights. The streets were slowly emptying of people, except those ones that Loki wasn't entirely comfortable with. Not that he was scared, but with the magic he had used, he did look like a four-year-old girl walking down the street by herself. The straps of the backpack cut into his shoulders. He shivered as the wind cut through his little orange blazer and tan skirt. He had ditched the clothes he had taken from the department store, just in case the Avengers had been able to track him to it. He had considered finding some sort of art studio for prosthetics to completely change his face, but decided that it was too risky at this time. So instead, he was looking for a new hiding place.

Loki saw a crowd of people milling outside a shabby building, whose flickering neon light that declared that it was a theatre. Loki decided that 'theatres' must be substantially different on earth than they were on Asgard; a building like this would have been torn down in a heartbeat. Under the neon sign was another sign, declaring that "Shaky Crew" were performing "Romeo and Juliet" that night.

A burst of light buzzed over the sky. Loki glanced upwards. Fading quickly in the distance was the tell-tale burn of the Iron Man impulse beams. When they turned and started coming back, Loki dodged quickly in amongst the crowd near the theatre and slipped into the building unnoticed.

The theatre was as shabby on the inside as it was on the outside. The chairs were worn and squeaked. The stage may have once been finely varnished, but lack of care and many years of use had left it patchy. It was only two feet high and Loki wondered if the people who had built the theatre had known what they were doing.

Loki let the heavy backpack onto the floor as he settled into the back row. The lights dimmed and a bunch of idiots started walking around the stage blathering nonsense. The warmth of the building made his eyes feel heavy. He was well aware that he hadn't slept soundly for months, and his exhaustion was clearly telling.

He kept an eye on the door into the theatre, expecting that Stark or one of the Avengers would come strolling in at any second. They never did, and his scans of the crowd and "actors" offered up no significant threats. He felt his body relaxing despite himself.

The play was long, badly acted and dull, but Loki enjoyed it all the same. It was most amusing, especially the "tragic" deaths of the annoying young lovers at the end.

As the audience gave their lackluster applause, Loki scanned the room again. There were no cameras, motion sensors or any type of security measure, as far as he could see. There were no windows in the theatre, meaning that no outside eyes would be able to spy him. Had he found a night's refuge?

Loki slid to the floor and, dragging his backpack with him, wormed his way under the seats to the small door that led backstage. Once in the tiny area, he found another door labeled "furnace". He tried it. Locked. Excellent. Quickly he sent a tendril of magic into the deadbolt, and locked it again once more when he was inside. Then he waited.

After the last sounds had fallen silent, Loki emerged into the dark theatre. His feet made hollow sounds on the wooden planks of the stage. He inspected every inch of the theatre. What he discovered gave him reason to hope. There were no security measures in the room and despite the hollowness of the stage there was no entrance of any sort.

Loki sat down, smoothed his skirt over his knees, and thought. He needed a place to hide safely. A place where he would not need to use magic to keep himself off S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radar, so he could regain his age; he was smaller now that he had been in hundreds of years. Nobody would think to look under a stage with no means of entrance, and he would be hiding right under the noses of his enemies. What could be better?

He had already used up so much magic a little more wouldn't hurt. Working carefully, he passed his finger around a child-sized panel in the stage boards, using magic to cut through them. It was dusty and dirty under the stage, but had plenty of room to live if one was small and was a man of infinite patience, as Loki was. Washroom facilities wouldn't be a problem; he had seen the universal human signs of a man and woman on doors in the theatre lobby.

Given the state of his new home, the first things he would need were cleaning supplies. He had no desire to lie in dirt for months on end. He would need canned foods and bottled water, enough for many months as he rejuvinated his magic. A flashlight. Books so he wouldn't go crazy with boredom. Blankets. And a pair of scissors so that he could be rid of this stupid Thor-like hair. He just hoped that there would be no mice and rats.

Feeling pleased with himself, Loki sat back up, brushing his long blond hair out of his face. It would be too risky to walk into a grocery store and take stuff off the shelves, but he could just as easily break into the humans' residences and take a little of what he needed without any of them being the wiser.

But for tonight, for the next few days in fact, he would need to stay off the streets entirely. S.H.I.E.L.D. was looking for him. Their search would widen once they believed that he had managed to escape the city, and he had enough food for a month if he portioned it carefully. He wouldn't feel fully satisfied, but satisfaction wasn't important. When he had been cast from Asgard, he would go weeks without even having as much food as what he had now. He could handle hunger.

His mind made up, Loki changed into a warmer set of clothes and used the skirt to knock the spider webs away and clean up some of the dirt. He squirmed into the space between the floorboards and sealed up the stage behind him. Pulling the cans and bottles out of his backpack, he propped his head on it and clasped his hands over his chest.

He was safe. Safe, because he was alone. Alone was his defense. Alone was armour. Alone was the only thing that protected him.

Chapter Text

When Pepper was finally released from the hospital and allowed to return to Stark Tower a month after her admittance, she was hardly surprised that she didn't receive a welcome home party. Most of the Avengers made sure that they stopped by to let her know they were glad that she was still alive, but she hadn't had a full conversation with anyone except Tony, and that was only because he hovered over her for the first few hours like one of his robots. The others were all busy trying to track Loki down.

Pepper shifted on the couch she lay on, wincing as her injuries protested the movement. While she wasn't technically on bed rest anymore, the only way Tony would stop hovering and get back to the important work was if she promised to let the house wait on her hand and foot. After the first two hours, she was bored out of her mind. And after Jarvis served her camomile tea made out of pickle juice, she realised that the house wasn't going to be much help.

-I am sorry, Miss Potts- Jarvis said yet again. –I will get Mr. Stark to look at my programming right away.-

"That's a good idea," Pepper replied, setting her tea down with a grimace.

Moving carefully, she stood up and walked to the windows. The remodel after the battle of New York was complete, and the pent suite had never looked so beautiful. Below, the rebuilding of the city wasn't going quite so fast. It would take a long time to construct the buildings. Rebuilding families and shattered lives, however, was never going to happen.

"Loki did this," she sighed. "And he escaped because I was stupid."

Despite the vehement protests by Tony, Pepper knew it was her fault. She had been the one reaching out to Loki when he attacked. If she hadn't been injured, the Avengers wouldn't have been distracted, and could have prevented Loki from escaping in the first place. Shouldn't she have learned something from his magical altercation with Barton? He looked like a child, but he was dangerous.

"Pepper?"

Pepper turned to see Tony walking towards her. He looked worried. "Jarvis said that you needed me to take a look at your head?"

"He's still having difficulties," Pepper sighed, rubbing her eyes with her uninjured hand. "He made me camomile tea with pickle juice."

-I object to that statement, Miss Potts- Jarvis said, sounding injured. -I prepared your whiskey with cream and sugar, just how you like it.-

"See what I mean?"

Tony's eyebrows arched. "You like whiskey with cream and sugar?"

Pepper rolled her eyes. "Just take a look at his programming."

Tony grimaced. "I did. There actually doesn't seem to be anything wrong with him. I think he just needs to sort himself out. It's going to take some time, it was a nasty shock that he received. Plus it was magic, something none of us were prepared for."

Pepper know better than to verbally blame herself, but Tony could see the guilt cross her face. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed the tip of her nose.

"It's not your fault, Pep."

"You keep saying that," Pepper said with a small smile that was completely unconvincing.

"Because it's true. If anything, we all share in the blame- except you!" Tony quickly added, as if afraid that his statement would be taken as an affirmation of her guilt. "You are the only one among us who never had to face Loki. You didn't know what he could do. Come to think of it, none of us really did except Thor, so all this is his fault."

"Tony, you can't blame Thor-"

-I am sorry for interrupting, but your ice cream sundae is ready, Miss Potts.-

"Thank you, Jarvis," Pepper said.

"You ordered an ice cream sundae?"

"No, I'm humouring him. Don't try to distract me." Pepper headed back to the sofa, where she sank down with a grateful sigh. Her ribs were really starting to ache again. She had hoped that she could get away without taking the painkillers that the doctors had prescribed, but it was looking like she would have to use them. "Thor is having a really hard time with this, isn't he?"

"We all are."

"Not as hard as him. Loki isn't our brother."

Tony sank down beside Pepper. "According to Loki, Loki isn't Thor's brother either. I know, I know," he shrugged as Pepper gave him a despairing look. "That's one of the things that makes it so hard for him. He keeps reaching out to Loki and Loki keeps trying to kill him. But how did we even get on this topic? I was busy telling you that this isn't your fault."

"And you were doing that by putting all the blame on Thor," Pepper reminded him.

"Yeah. Right."

-Sir? Mickey Mouse is calling.-

"I'm starting to think that you're doing this on purpose," Tony said to the invisible AI.

-Doing what, sir?-

"How could Mickey Mouse be calling me?"

-Miss Potts, perhaps you should make Mr Stark lie down. It appears that exhaustion is taxing him.-

"He's getting worse," Pepper murmured to Tony. "Maybe he should shut down for a while, get some rest?"

-I can hear you- Jarvis said, somewhat sulkily. -I don't want to shut down.-

"Look, J," Tony started soothingly. "You've had a very traumatic experience, and I'm afraid that we're putting too much pressure on you too quickly. You're not acting like yourself. So you should just shut down a little bit, and take a well-deserved break."

-Nonsense. You can't function without me.-

"We can last a few days," Pepper reassured him.

There was a bit of a silence. -Are you certain, Miss Potts?-

"Yes."

-Very well. I shall run your bath right away.-

Pepper was certain that if it wasn't Jarvis who was acting so strange, if it was some other random AI that Tony hadn't created, (who was also his best friend, aside from herself and Rhodey) then her boyfriend would have found the whole situation extremely funny. But this was Jarvis, and Tony was clearly worried. With a glance to Pepper, he walked over to the nearest computer and began typing on it.

"Okay, Jarvis, it's time to go to bed. Say good-night."

-Goodnight, Sir. Shall I wake you at seven?-

"Sure, why not?" Tony muttered, and finished typing. He glanced sadly at the speakers in the ceiling and sighed. "Loki is going to pay for this. He hurt the two people that I care most about in this world. I don't care how cute he is."

Some part of Pepper still wanted to defend the fallen demigod, but the larger part of her agreed with Tony. She walked up to him and squeezed his hand. He looked at her and she was surprised at the intensity of the fiery anger in his brown eyes. More surprising was the fact that she felt a tremor of fear from that anger. This is Tony, she reminded herself.

"Don't concentrate on revenge, Tony," she said softly. "It's dangerous. For you. I've already broken bones, you can't get hurt because you've done something stupid."

"Me? Stupid?" Tony said, but he failed to turn it into a convincing joke. "Pep, I'm shocked and disappointed that you would think I would be stupid."

"When you find him, don't be crazy, okay?"

Tony saw how worried she actually was, and tried to quell his anger. "I'll try to be smart. 'Sides, we have to find him first and so far we have absolutely no leads."

Pepper nodded. "You should get back to work then."

"Yeah, I should. Do you need anything? You're all packed to go to DC?"

Pepper nodded. They had both agreed that it would be better if she stayed with her mother for a while, since the Avengers were so busy with the search for Loki. "I'm good."

Tony nodded, and kissed her gently before he left. Once he was gone, Pepper stretched out over the sofa and closed her eyes. She wondered where Loki was, what he was doing, and what kinds of destruction and trouble he was planning for the Avengers.

#

Loki unplugged the webcam from the computer before turning it on. While it was loading, he found the kitchen and gathered a couple soup cans, along with a bottle of water from the fridge, and a book that was lying on the counter that looked like it could be a promising read. It was the last house he was acquiring supplies from, and along with a full backpack he also had two grocery bags full of canned goods and other provisions. He glanced in a mirror as he past it; despite the month that had gone by, he was only just starting to grow again. Although, it wasn't surprising once he considered it. He had been very small, even for an Asgardian, until he turned five, at which time he shot up so quickly that Odin would joke about somebody casting a growing spell on him.

Loki pushed away the thoughts of Asgard as he sat down at the computer, knowing that he only had about half an hour left at the house before the owners returned. What he wanted to know wouldn't take long to find. He couldn't risk looking up anything significant – say "tessaract" – just yet, but there was something that he needed to know.

Pepper Potts, he typed into the search bar. Seconds later, dozens of headlines popped up on the screen, several proclaiming her to be with child, a few claiming that she was fighting with Stark and one claiming that she was a fairy from Neverland, wherever that was. Loki's brow furrowed as he read the search results. And humans thought they were intelligent?

One headline caught his eye, Pepper Potts Released from Hospital after Sustaining Severe Injuries. He quickly opened it and scanned through it. Relief washed over him as he read that Potts had been able to leave the hospital by her own power, and was recovering nicely. Obviously humans had a different idea as to what constituted "severe injuries" then he did.

Loki quickly shut off the computer and gathered up his supplies, walking under a darkening sky back to his new home under the stage.

Chapter Text

Even a man of infinite patience would get bored and restless after living in a space only two feet high for so long that he lost track of time.

The beginning hadn't been too terribly bad, with all the cleaning Loki had to do and then setting up his living space. He managed to make it comfortable enough, considering the location, and was confident with the supplies he had gathered that he would stay hidden for a long, long time.

However, once the space was clean he was left in the dark, lying on his back staring at the blackness, or reading the books he had gathered. Very occasionally, he listened to the pounding of feet on the stage boards as dancers and actors rehearsed and performed. Even rarer were musical organizations, whose talent ranged from the hellish to the sublime.

The worse part was the nightmares. He was afraid to sleep, just in case one of those performing groups came in while he slept and he woke from a nightmare. Often he bruised his forehead against the stageboards from his sudden wakefulness, his throat parched and raw from screaming in his sleep. Sometimes he wondered if he was going mad, especially when he saw the faces from his nightmares leering at him through the darkness with his waking eyes.

Even without the nightmares, Loki had a hard time falling asleep. He was growing rapidly again, and his whole body ached with the sudden stretching of his bones against his muscles and skin. Sometimes when he woke, he would find that the clothing that was too loose when he had fallen asleep were too tight on his frame. The pain from growing so quicky hurt so much that at times he had to stuff articles of clothing into his mouth to keep from whimpering aloud. He had planned for this growth, however, and had clothes ranging in sizes from what he needed at the moment to adulthood.

Food was yet another problem. He quickly learned that when he opened a can of provisions, he had to eat the whole thing in one sitting or it would attract rodents. So his days were filled with growls from his stomach for hours and hours on end, punctuated with getting filled to bursting with cold beans or soup. He would then wash the can out in the washroom and hide it at the bottom of the garbage bin to avoid arousing suspicion.

It was a good setup, so long as Loki was careful. But even so, after he had read through all the books that he had gathered, commented in the margins of some, and even completely rewrote a couple, he wondered how much longer he could take before succumbing to utter madness.

In the end, however, his fate was decided for him. He was sleeping, twitching with pain and nightmares, when a sudden shattering blow on the stage above him jerked him from his sleep. Splinters of wood pierced his face.

Loki had hardly enough time to realise what was happening when Thor appeared in the hole above him. His face raging, the god of thunder reached down, grabbed Loki by the throat, and pulled him up. He threw the younger god away and Loki grunted with pain as he collided with the stage. He quickly scrambled to his feet.

"Loki, you are a pathetic traitor," Thor growled, advancing on him.

Loki backed away, Thor's words unexpectedly painful. "Finally come to the truth, have you? Are you going to kill me now, brother?"

"Yes," Thor replied, raising the hammer. "You were never part of my family, Jötunn!"

For a brief second terror and pain filled Loki, but then he realised the absurdity of the situation. A frowned crossed his face and then understanding. He laughed. "I'm having another nightmare, aren't I?"

Thor lowered the hammer. "You've never realised that you were dreaming before."

Loki paced around the stage, wondering if he was in fact dreaming or not. Deciding to test it out, he looked at the hole in the stage and willed a tree to grow from it. Within seconds, the sapling sprouted and matured and golden apples hung from the branches. Proof enough.

"Why do I keep dreaming that you want to kill me, Thor?"

"Because you want me to hate you," Thor replied, and he dropped Mjölnir.

"That's absurd," Loki scoffed, sitting down on the edge of the stage.

"Is it?"

"Yes."

Thor sat down beside him. "This is an interesting thing, brother. Out of the two of us, I am the creation of your subconscious mind and you are the representative of your conscious thoughts. If I say that you want me to hate you, that is because that is what your subconscious desires. And yet you say that is absurd. Obviously you are a more talented liar than any of us quite comprehended. You have successfully lied to yourself."

"Now I know this is a dream. Thor could never come up with that argument by his own power."

"Oh, please!" Thor rolled his eyes. "I am far smarter than you give me credit for."

Loki raised his eyebrows. "You as in Thor, or you as in my subconscious?"

"Probably both." Thor shrugged. "No wonder you are confused, brother, when your own mind doesn't know what it is thinking."

"Why do you keep insisting on calling me brother when I never was?"

"Because I love you."

"Which only proves your stupidity," Loki replied hotly. "How many times have I tried to kill you now? Do you think that you can redeem my soul with love, Thor? It can't be redeemed. It's too late. I no longer have a soul to redeem. Why can't you just accept that so that we can all move on with our insignificant existences? Why do you insist on holding on to a false hope?"

Thor didn't seem bothered in the least. "Can hope be false?"

"Yes."

Thor was silent for a moment. "Are you talking about my hope that we can one day be brothers again, or your hope that all the things you have done aren't unforgivable? That you do have a soul that can be redeemed? Which is it, Loki?"

Loki rubbed his eyes tiredly. "This is wonderful. I am going all – who is that ridiculous mortal on the television that Banner and Potts watch religiously?"

"Oparia."

"Yes, her. I am going all 'Oparia' on myself in my dreams. This truly is madness."

"Perhaps madness is the only path that leads out of madness."

Loki stared at Thor. "That doesn't even make any sense."

"You're the one who thought it up."

"Dreams don't have any true meaning."

Thor shrugged. "If that's what you want to believe, go ahead and believe it. I don't, and so really that means that you don't either. Interesting. We really are opposed aren't we, the conscious and subconscious of your mind. It is all very confusing. Is that why you want to die so much? Because you can't make up your mind as to what you believe?"

"I don't want to die."

Thor looked pointedly at his arm.

"That was differnt." Loki snapped. "And as my subconcious, you know why."

"True. But you still want me to hate you."

"You should hate me, but that doesn't mean I want you to."

Thor shrugged. "Romanoff thinks you do."

"How would you know that if you are truly only my subconscious and not just a meaningless dream?" Loki rolled his eyes, tempted to try to change his dream entirely so that he was no longer talking with the big blond oaf, but somehow sensing that it wouldn't work. He had always had a minor ability to manipulate his dreams, but for the most part they stayed stubbornly rigid. "Did she tell you?"

"No, you observed her observing you and were able to extrapolate her assessments unconsciously, which I am now relaying to you in the form of your brother," Thor replied, looking and sounding as smug as Loki would have had their places been reversed.

"Then she's wrong."

"Is she?"

"Yes."

Thor shrugged. "All right. So what are you planning on doing now, anyway? Are you just going to live under this stage until you're fully grown?"

"That's the plan," Loki replied grimly.

"And then what?"

"Then? Then I will find a way off of earth."

"And where will you go after that?" Thor questioned quickly. "Back to Thanos?"

Loki jumped to his feet. "Enough of this. This is my dream, my mind, so I should be able to choose what goes on here. Therefore I banish you away."

Thinking that it might help, Loki brandished his hands and wiggled his fingers in a manner that immediately made him feel very silly. Thor looked at his with a raised eyebrow, as if not entirely certain that Loki was serious. When he realised that the banishment was not made in jest, he stood up. Summoning Mjölnir, he shrugged.

"If you want to continue living in a lie, brother, go ahead."

"Are you leaving me?" Loki asked, suddenly and unexplainably panicked. Thor didn't reply, and merely walked out of the theatre without a backwards glance. "Thor! ... Thor?" Loki sat back down. He pulled his knees to his chest. "Come back."

"He's gone."

Loki whirled around and was met by a most unwelcome sight. Standing before him was a middle-aged mortal that he recognised. He stood with his hands clasped lightly, wearing a black suit, his brown hair combed neatly. A calm, cool smile was on his face and his gaze was just as cool and calm. Loki flinched back before he could stop himself.

"You. I killed you."

"Phil Coulson," the man introduced himself. "And yes, you did kill me."

"What are you doing here? Another messenger from my subconscious?" Loki sneered, although he was strangely unnerved and couldn't explain why. Because this is a dream, he told himself, and strange things always happen in dreams. None of this means anything.

"Oh, I'm not from your subconscious, but I don't expect you to believe that. I've been trying to get in contact with you for quite a while, but this is the first time that you've noticed me." Phil Coulson still looked supremely calm as he walked to the edge of the stage and sat beside Loki. "As for why I'm here, I can't tell you that. Not yet. You have to figure it out on your own."

"Because I'm going mad."

Coulson shrugged. "You could be."

"I don't regret killing you."

"I know you don't." Coulson smiled. "I don't, either. It bound the Avengers together and to be quite frank, being dead is a lot more relaxing than life was. It's not exactly like I'm retired, but at least I know what's going on and I have a lot more influence over things now."

Loki studied Coulson, trying to find some sort of trick in the man. But then he realised once more that this was a dream and that whatever tricks Coulson was playing at it mattered not, for he would simply awaken to another long day in the darkness. But he still felt wary, and his stomach knotted in on itself.

"You said you've been trying to contact me for a while?"

Coulson nodded. "I have. But our talk is going to have to wait for another time. You need to wake up now."

Loki frowned. "Why?"

"Because the theatre is on fire."

Loki woke with a start. For a long time he lay still, his mind churning over the strange dream that he had experienced. He took deep breaths, and smelled the smoke. Flipping over, he grabbed his flashlight and flicked it on. Smoke was seeping in through the stage boards, thick and noxious. Loki snatched his backpack, which he always kept ready for a quick escape, and crawled to the planks at the front of the stage, cutting out a panel with magic.

In the theatre, the smoke was even heavier. Staying close to the ground, he headed towards the exits. He could feel the heat from the unseen flames, and the smoke clogged his lungs, making him cough.

The door to the lobby was hot, and Loki knew that the flames were on the other side. He coughed again, sliding back from it. The fire exit was on the opposite side of the theatre and with a sinking heart, Loki remembered that it was blocked on the outside by the large garbage bins that homeless mortals often picked through.

Well, there was only one thing for it. He got to his feet, collecting his magic inside of him for protection. He steadied himself, and then threw open the lobby door. A raging wave of heat rushed at him, but the magic held the worse of it at bay. Dashing though the red smoke, Loki burst through the doors onto the street outside.

Sunlight blinded him, and he shielded his face. His heart leaping to his throat as he heard the distinctive whirl of a helicopter. S.H.I.E.L.D. S.H.I.E.L.D. had set fire to the theatre to flush him out. Hands grabbed him, and he didn't resist. It was useless. All of it. There was no escape from S.H.I.E.L.D., or the Avengers, or life. It was all over. No doubt they would find some way to send him back to Asgard to face judgement. The place he once called home would kill him and that was all there was to it.

Something was pressed against his face. Startled, Loki forced himself to tune into his surroundings. The men standing over him weren't S.H.I.E.L.D. agents at all. By their garb, he guessed that they were human firefighters.

Loki could have laughed. The firefighters were asking him questions, but even if he cared to listen he wouldn't have answered. He took deep breaths from the mask they held against his face, feeling oxygen chase the smoke from his lungs.

He looked at the scene with clearer vision, and saw that well half of the theatre was flaming. It must have started in the washrooms and spread rapidly from there. It was an old building and Loki realised with a chill that if he hadn't woken up when he had, no magic in the universe could have saved him from becoming a crispy enigma for the morgue.

Loki glanced at the crowd gathered to watch the building burn and the firefighters work. It was quite a gathering, and the people had expressions ranging from awe and horror to delight and horror. Then he froze.

There were news crews. With cameras pointed right at him.

Chapter Text

Five months after Loki escaped, the Avengers hadn't found a whisper that could lead them to him. Not even the trace of a whisper. It didn't surprise Thor; Loki had always been a master at hiding and staying in the shadows, even when they were children. Nobody ever wanted to play hide and seek with him because they could never find him until he got bored, which sometimes wasn't until the next day.

The tension was incredibly high in Stark tower, enough to make civil conversation nearly impossible. As such, it was decided that the team members would be "rotated out" as Captain Rogers called it, a weekend at a time for "R&R". When it came time for Thor's turn, he had resisted. What if they discovered Loki while he was gone? Where would he go, anyway?

"We'll call you," Stark had replied. "You've got that cellphone I gave you. And go visit that astrophysicist that you're always talking about. Come on, it will be good for you. Besides that, you're getting really grumpy and you're scaring the rest of us."

Thor reluctantly acknowledged that it was true; Banner had even taken to leaving a room when he entered, due to an unfortunate incident with a mug of coffee and a robotic alligator that Stark swore wasn't supposed to be in the lab. So he packed up his meager earth possessions and spent the weekend with his friends Jane Foster, Eric Selvig and Darcy Lewis. He had to admit that the first hour being away from the Avengers was like a breath of fresh air. Focusing on the search for Loki took more of a toll than he had realised. The following two days hadn't been relaxing, but spending time with Jane had been able to distract him enough that he no longer wanted to break things.

"So you go back tomorrow?" Jane asked him, handing him a large bowl of popcorn as she sat beside him.

Thor nodded. "Thank you for letting me come."

Jane smiled the sweet smile that always made his heart skip a beat. "No problem. I've missed you."

"So did I!" Darcy suddenly interjected, plunking herself down on Thor's other side. "And I've really missed all the mooning eyes and sappy smiles that you two give each other."

Jane rolled her eyes, the smile gone in a flash of annoyance. Thor wasn't certain why she was annoyed that their other friends had chosen to join them for a movie night after he had invited them. He also wasn't sure why she had forgotten them in the first place. Eric chuckled as he sat in a nearby chair.

"I think we've all missed that, Darcy," he said.

"There are no mooning eyes," Jane snapped. "That isn't even a proper term. It doesn't mean anything."

"So that means that I am right not to understand it?" Thor asked hopefully.

"Let's just watch the movie." Jane grabbed the remote, obviously irritated. Thor wondered what he had done wrong. Again. He glanced up at the television as Jane struggled to turn on the show. It was showing the news; the image was of an old building in flames. Thor watched absently, leaning back as Darcy reached over him to snatch the remote from Jane.

"How can you be so brainy and build all sorts of weird crap but still not understand how to use a remote control?" Darcy complained.

"I can use-"

"Stop!" Thor shouted, jumping to his feet. "Go back, go back!"

The humans looked startled. Thor turned on Darcy. "Make the images go back!"

"You can't rewind the news," Darcy replied, looking a little afraid.

"It's a PVR," Jane replied, somewhat smugly as she took the remote back from Darcy and proceeded to back up the images on the TV. "Thor, what's this about?"

"Stop. Stop it!" Thor held his breath as the image froze. He walked closer to the TV screen, as if that would help him see it clearer. A group of firefighters were pulling a boy of about fifteen out of the thick smoke. Thor's breath caught in his throat. It was difficult to see the boy's face clearly with the distance and the smoke, but he knew who it was.

"Thor?" Jane asked, coming to stand beside him. "What is it?"

"Loki."

"Loki?" Eric repeated. Though he tried to quell it, repulsion and fear was on his face.

Thor turned back to his friends. "Forgive me, my friends, but I must return to New York immediately."

Jane looked confused. "But-"

"That is Loki," Thor pointed at the screen. "I must stop him from escaping again.

Thor kissed Jane's cheek, and left quickly. As he ran to his quarters for Mjölnir, he dug the cellphone Stark had given him out of his pocket and kept his eyes on the screen as his fingers awkwardly tried to press the numbers. Why had Stark thought that a phone with buttons the size of pinheads would be a good idea for his strong, manly hands?

Just before he finished dialing, the phone let out a sharp, shrill beep. It startled Thor slightly, although he had gotten used to the ringtone. The name Steve Rogers flashed across the screen. With some difficulty, Thor pressed the tiny talk button and held the phone to his ear.

"Loki is in New York," he said without a greeting.

"Yeah, we just got his location," Rogers replied. "We're on our way there, and Fury is sending in some agents to help. What's your ETA?"

Thor began to swing Mjölnir in a circle to provide liftoff. "I'll be there in an hour."

#

Loki glanced to the sky as the dark clouds obscured the sun and lighting began to crackle overheard. Thor was coming. He dropped the backpack to the ground. He could get more supplies later; he needed speed now. His bare feet slapped the pavement towards the docks and the people he pushed through shouted insults after him as he fled.

Suddenly he skidded to a stop. Two men were standing at the end of the street, almost casually searching the crowd. Loki recognised one as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. He tarried a second too long; the agents saw him and started forward, one talking into his cuff. They drew weapons. Loki dodged into a nearby building. His heart pounded in his chest as a crash of thunder made the lights flicker.

He headed for the stairs, but he heard his pursuers close behind and knew he couldn't outrun them. He sensed one of them lunge at him and threw himself to the side, twisting around to slam his palm into the man's nose. He grabbed the barrel of his handgun and twisted it away, punching the man in the throat as they both fell.

The agent's partner fired his gun, the slug impacting the tiles next to Loki's head. Loki responded by firing two shots into his attacker's chest. Humans screamed and scattered as the man fell. Loki swung the handgun and smashed the butt into the face of the first agent. He felt bones crack. Scrambling to his feet, he headed towards the stairs.

The doors burst open, and Loki spared no time to check who it was or how many there were. He dashed up the stairs, pulling a fire alarm as he went past it. The alarm started blaring. Moments later hordes of people were clamouring down the stairs to get out of the building. Loki, small as he was, easily weaved and bobbed among them, heading upwards. His pursuers wouldn't be able to navigate so easily. He knew that his escape routes were rapidly cutting off, but it was too late to turn around. He had to keep going.

By the time he reached the roof, he was panting for breath and adrenaline pounded in his blood. He looked around wildly, searching for both his enemies and a way for escape. He ran to the edge of the building and looked down. Three levels below, waved lapped against the docks.

There was a distinctive, familiar thump on the roof behind him. Loki closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath before turning around slowly. There stood Thor, looking less impressive in his earth garments than he did in his Asgardian armour, but nonetheless cut an intimidating figure. The lighting stopped flickering, but the storm clouds stayed.

"Thor," Loki greeted, the gun held loosely in his hand. It would be next to worthless against Thor, but that didn't mean he couldn't use it.

"Loki," Thor started forward. Loki backed up, right against the ledge. Thor stopped. "Brother, come back to Stark tower."

"So I can watch silly human movies while I wait to be sent back to Asgard for my death? No, Thor, I will not go like a lamb to the slaughter."

Thor's glance flickered to the gun in Loki's hand. Loki looked down at it as well before letting it slip from his grasp. He wasn't prepared to take that step, not yet. Thor dropped Mjölnir and cautiously took a few steps forward. "Loki, our father will not sentence you to death."

Loki laughed. Could he really be that naïve? "Won't he? A king must appease the voice of his people. What small sacrifice would my life be, Thor? He banished you for being the idiot you always have been! I have done far worse and I am not his son!"

As Thor continued to walk slowly forward, Loki scrambled up onto the ledge. Thor retreated. Loki remained where he was. He glanced around at neighbouring rooftops, expecting to see Barton at any point, drawing back his bowstring.

"Brother, come back," Thor said quietly. "Please."

Loki's gaze fixed on the blonde demigod again. "Since when do you say please? All those years, you just expected everyone to do as you bid, to follow you into battle no matter what the cost may be. When did you ever ask?"

"Loki, I am truly sorry for everything I have done in the past, but I cannot change those things. I am asking you now; please return. I will allow no harm to come to you, I promise."

Thor's expression was earnest and pleading, his hand slightly outstretched. Loki saw that he was sincere in his plea and his promise. For a moment he wavered. Could he return? Was it possible that the bleak future he foresaw for himself could change? Could he someday have a home, a family, again? Could he?

No. Thor's high-minded ideals were nothing more than childish daydreams. Loki's heart hardened again.

"I have no need of you or your promises," he spat, and jumped.

Chapter Text

"No!" Thor shouted, rushing forward. He got to the edge of the building just in time to see Loki disappear into the ocean with a white-tipped splash. Thor searched the water, but as the waves devoured the ripples, Loki did not re-emerge.

Thor summoned his hammer and dived off the building. He held Mjölnir in front of him, urging all hast. The water was cold as it enveloped him. It was murky and the salt stung his eyes. He could only see vague shapes, and none of them even looked like they could be his brother. Had his natural resistant been enough to survive, or was he-

Don't! Thor told himself harshly. He swam through the cold, murky ocean, circling the pillars of the docks and searching every dark niche that could conceal his brother. Mjölnir glowed softly in the darkness. He found nothing. When his lungs were screaming for air, he was forced to surface. He pulled himself onto the dock, and sat there, water dripping off his face as he searched the dark ocean while he took great gasps of breath.

The buzz of Stark's metal armour cut through the air. Thor glanced up as Iron Man dropped down beside him and raised his faceplate. Thor pushed himself to his feet.

"He jumped," he explained brusquely. "I could not find him."

"Of course you didn't. Barton spotted him three blocks from here before he disappeared again," Stark replied pomptly. "Your earpiece fizzled out when you jumped into the water. Here's a new one."

Thor took the proffered device, replacing the ruined one.

"The captain's organising agents from S.H.I.E.L.D. for a new search grid." Stark was silent for a moment. "The two agents who chased him in there have been taken to the hospital. He shot the one guy, but he was wearing a vest so he isn't too badly injured... The other guy got his face smashed up pretty good, though. Blood everywhere."

"Is this you trying to be comforting?" Thor snapped.

Stark shrugged. "I'm just stating facts, here. At least he didn't kill anybody, right?"

Thor gave Stark the blackest look he could muster. Stark's faceplate snapped shut. "Sorry."

"Have they put out the fire yet?"

Stark nodded. "Most of the theatre still stands. Romanoff thinks that with a little persuasion we can start searching it for clues in a few hours."

"Stark, Thor, you there?" the captain asked over the headset.

"Yes," Stark said instantly.

"Affirmative."

"Stark, I want you to do a few flyovers of the area. Thor, can you get rid of these clouds? Barton's complaining that it's getting too dark."

Stark took off without another word, and Thor looked upwards. The dark storm clouds mirrored his mood exactly, but he knew Rogers was right. Decreased visibility was exactly what they did not need. He raised the hammer to the sky.

#

Loki glanced at his reflection as he boarded the bus leaving New York city. It hadn't taken much magic to mold the latex Halloween mask onto the contours of his face, giving him a disguise that would at least get him out of the city. His cheekbones weren't as pronounced in the mask, his chin was more rounded, his nose wider and his eyebrows bushier, and the skin tones of the mask were significantly darker than his pale complexion.

He wore a black hooded sweater, baggy black pants, and black gloves. He had put a baseball cap on sideways, and had picked up plenty of cheap costume 'bling' as it was called. As long as he wore the new shades he had stolen, not even Thor would have been able to distinguish him from the hoards of teenage boys who apparently thought that this was 'cool'.

Loki went to the very back of the bus before sitting down. He had only narrowly escaped the Avengers again. If it hadn't been for that pinapple, he would be locked up in a cell waiting for them to decide what to do with him. Or maybe they had already decided, and he'd be lying in a body bag waiting to be buried. But would Thor allow that?

"It doesn't matter. I am not going back," he told hmself.

He pulled a cellphone from his pocket. He had stolen it from some clueless old man who probably was going to have a heart attack by the end of the day anyway, judging by the amount of fries he was eating. Opening the phone up, Loki inspected the chips and wires. It shouldn't be too hard to figure out.

#

Several hours after the theatre fire had been put out, Natasha had managed to convince the fire chief that she, Rogers and Stark should be allowed to search the theatre. She was going to call him (the fire chief) to set up a date, as soon as she found a bunch of kids to scream in the background. The others were all still pounding the pavement, but there was no sign of Loki. Again.

Natasha squirmed through the small opening beneath the stage, shining her flashlight into the darkness. What she saw surprised her.

First, it was clean. The faint odour of pine sol still lingered beneath the more recent smoke. Loki's "living quarters" were in the farthest corner of the stage. A neat bed was made atop a thin memory foam mattress close to the wall. In the corner was a good sized collection of canned foods; soups, beans, fruit, vegetables, fish, all arranged according to type and brand. Beside the food were great big jugs of water, and a few juice cartons. A whole library of books was next, alphabetically organised by title.

But what surprised Natasha the most was the laundry. Positioned away from the rest of Loki's living arrangement was a contraption of ropes strung taunt between upright beams. The clothes that lay over these ropes smelled slightly of detergent and were still damp. He even had a stack of laundry and dish soaps, body wash, shampoo, and other cleaning supplies.

"He planned to stay here for the long run," she said to Stark and Rogers after she had crawled out from under the stage. "He's got enough supplies for at least three more months down there. Maybe even more than that."

Rogers shook his head in disbelief. "So if it wasn't for that fire we would never have found him."

"We found his trail, not him," Stark corrected darkly. "He got away."

"At least we know his strategy now," Rogers said bracingly, though his expression wasn't hopeful. "He's hiding. Look at how he stayed in New York. It's more than just a clever tick of hiding under our noses. He's got nowhere to go."

"He's got no resources," Stark agreed. He folded his arms, frowning thoughtfully. "But what's his play? He can't just be hiding out. Is his goal revenge, or does he want to get off the planet? Or is he planning to get revenge and then escape? We haven't seen anything on the internet that suggests Loki's activities, but that doesn't-"

"I don't think he's been on the internet," Natasha interrupted. "Right now his goal is to keep off our radar. He's got a lot of books under there, but no electronics."

"So it's a low-tech approach," Rogers suggested. "Avoiding leaving a trail S.H.I.E.L.D. can find."

Natasha shook her head. "I don't think so, Cap. Not unless William Shakespeare put secret instructions on how to leave the planet in his plays."

"I wouldn't put it past him," Stark muttered, but his brow furrowed. "Loki's been reading Shakespeare?"

"Romanoff, what are your thoughts on this?" Rogers asked, frowning as well. "What are Loki's plans?"

Natasha rubbed her eyes. "I can't say for sure, but I think that he doesn't know what to do. I'll have to see if he left anything behind. Although if he was planning on living under a stage for months on end, he didn't have to leave any tangible evidence. Everything could all be in his head. His plans, any information he's managed to glean about technology that might get him off the planet, people who can help him, how he can hurt S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers... But based on the evidence right here, I'd say he just wants to evade us right now until he figures out his next move."

"Probably trying to reaccumulate his magic and grow up," Stark suggested.

"Is reaccumulate even a word?"

"If it's not it should be."

Rogers rolled his eyes and touched his headset. "Barton, Thor, you got anything?"

There was a brief silence before Clint's voice came back through. "Negative."

"I have found nothing as well."

Natasha looked to the captain, waiting for him to offer more instruction. Rogers frowned, thinking. "Okay, Stark and I should get back to the search. Romanoff, you stay here just in case Loki decides to come back-"

"Do you think he'd do that?"

Rogers shrugged. "I didn't think that he'd stay in New York."

"I'm going to pull out those books and take a closer look at them. He may have hidden something in them that we can use to figure out where he's headed."

"Do it," Rogers nodded, and then he and Stark left.

Natasha quickly got Loki's library out from under the stage and stacked them on the floor before sitting down to flip through them. She didn't give the books her full attention; she was acutely aware of her surroundings. If a mouse had decided to try to creep up on her, it would have found itself staked to the ground with a dagger before the thought had fully formed in its head.

Ten minutes later, a card fell out of a book that Natasha picked up. Get well soon, it read in sparkling red letters, a bouquet of daisies underneath. Curious, Natasha set the book aside and opened the card. Inside a note was written in a flowing cursive script.

Miss Potts, she read, I did not mean to injure you at the time of my escape. I admit that my control over magic is not as great while I am in a child's body that what I have become accustomed to in more recent times of my life. I will not apologise for my actions or your injuries. It may have been somewhat of an accident, but I am not unhappy that you were injured. That being said, niether am I unhappy to learn that you are recovering.

Do not mistake this for any sort of affectionate sentiment. Though I have come to realise that your kindness towards me was made in genuine caring, this only shows an incredible weakness on your part. Perhaps now you will be wiser. I have no particular antagonism towards you, but I would not hesitate to kill you if it furthered my plans.

Even so, I cannot say that I would not look at the universe as lesser for the lack of your presence.

Be wise, Miss Potts.

Loki.

Chapter Text

Thor folded his massive arms, leaning against the windows of the Stark Tower guest kitchen. The search for Loki had ended fruitless. His brother had disappeared once more, as he so easily did his whole life. There was no indication as to where he had gone, expect perhaps the books he had left behind.

There was silence in the kitchen as Romanoff lowered the get well card in which Loki had written his note to Miss Potts. Romanoff had insisted that she read it, though Thor wasn't sure why. Loki had given no relevant informtion in the card, and what he did write made Thor's heart grow heavier. It was clear that Loki did not trust his own feelings, let alone anybody else's.

"Wow," Stark said eventually. "Thor, does your brother have a crush on my girlfriend?"

"What?" Banner looked at Stark with a raised eyebrow. "How do you get that?"

"Well, he almost flat out says that he thinks the universe is a better place because she's in it."

"Retain your humour, I find no laughter in any part of this," Thor interupted, giving the Iron Man a quick glance to get him to shut up.

"You think he left that there on purpose just in case we found him?" Rogers asked.

"Why?" Barton muttered. Out of all the Avengers, he was the only one not facing the group. He was standing a little ways from Thor, staring out the window.

Rogers shrugged. "To elicit pity?"

"I don't think that Loki was planning on coming out from under that stage for a while," Romanoff replied, putting the card on the table with all the books that had been found in Loki's hideout.

Thor shifted uncomfortably as he thought of the tiny space where Loki had been living. No matter how far he had fallen, Loki was a prince of Asgard, and he had made his home in the two-foot space under a stage – not even a room – in a filthy, shabby building. He thought of how Loki had looked on the roof of the building. Ragged hair that was still blonde at the ends, clothes that were too big for him, thinner by far, dark circles under his eyes contrasting with the pallor of his skin. Why did he not listen?

"I don't think it makes any difference. We still need to find where he is," Barton said. He turned around. "After he's back in custody we can discuss... other things. So unless he's planning on visiting Miss Potts we should concentrate on other areas."

"It will be easy to find him now," Stark said sarcastically. "All we have to do is torch all the old buildings on the planet. Or find libraries where the books are mysteriously disappearing."

"He's younger than we thought he would be," Rogers interrupted, frowning at his team members. "So either he's used magic since he escaped or isn't aging as rapidly as he did before."

"Maybe both," Romanoff suggested.

"And he's a boy again. That's something. He's got quite the range of books, doesn't he? King Lear, David Copperfield, Harry Potter, the collective works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. And is that Twilight?" Stark picked up one of the books from the table and opened it. He shuddered dramatically and threw it back onto the table. "He's lost a few braincells if he read that!"

Thor understood that the mortal had a need to turn everything into a joke, and tried to keep his tongue in check, but it was difficult. Did none of them realise that Loki was still his brother? Whatever need they felt to find him, Thor's was greater twofold. He needed to protect the earth from Loki's schemes and vengeance, but he also had to protect Loki from the world.

"He wrote in this," Stark said suddenly, frowning at the pages of another book he picked up. "Listen to this; Burning, burning dragon's tongue, with all the lies which thou hast sung. What more hurts wilt thou bestow, upon my frail immortal mind? What's that supposed to mean?"

Nobody replied.

"Cap, if it's okay I'd like to stick around here looking through these." Romanoff looked up at Rogers. "It might help me figure out what his next move is."

"Thor, what's a vili eiga?" Stark asked, frowning as he continued to read Loki's notes.

Darkness passed over Thor's face and he snatched the book away from Stark without answering. He searched the familiar elegant cursive of his brother's writing until he came to the note that Stark had been referring to, above the title of what appeared to be a play. Sounds like a vili eiga. Stupid man should have known better.

"Thor?"

"It means nothing," Thor replied, relieved that it had just been an idle note.

"Okay, but what is it?"

"A vili eiga is an oath. It binds the will and power of one being to another's," Thor replied. "It was an ancient, evil practice among kings before Asgard was founded that when a new leader came to the throne, he would force all his subjects to take it. They then had to obey his every command, whether it was to fight in a war against their kin or even take their own life."

"Sounds familiar," Barton muttered, so quietly that Thor was certain it hadn't meant to be heard.

"It was outlawed long before Asgard came to be."

"And what happened if they just didn't obey?" Stark asked, too interested in the matter for Thor's liking.

"Such a thing was physically impossible."

"Well, it's not going to help us find Loki. Romanoff, if you think that looking through these will help you figure out where he's going, go ahead," Rogers ordered. "But the rest of us need to get back out on the street."

"Steve, do you really think that we're just going to bump into him by accident?" Barton asked.

-Dr Banner, you have an incoming phone call-

Stark rolled his eyes. "Not now, Jarvis, we're busy."

-It's Loki.-

Thor looked sharply upwards, even though he knew he would find no evidence of truth or lies of the automated butler's words written in the ceiling.

"Jarvis, are you feeling alright?" Stark asked wearily. "You've been so good lately."

-I assure you, I am fine- the virtual butler replied with a bite to his voice. -Dr Banner, answer your phone.-

Looking uncertain, Banner pulled his cellphone from his pocket. "Hello?" he said doubtfully.

"Take me off of speaker phone," came the reply through the phone's speakers. The annoyed voice was clearly Loki's. Thor started, as did the rest of the Avengers. He walked closer to Banner.

"Loki. Why are you calling me?" Banner asked, his brows arched in confusion as he stared down at the phone. He glanced up at Stark. Trace it, he mouthed, and Stark nodded.

"Take me off of speaker phone and I'll tell you. And no doubt you have the iron child trying to trace this call but it will gain you nothing. I'm from Asgard, don't you think I know how to bounce a satellite signal?"

Banner hesitated a moment, and then pressed a button on the phone and held it to his ear.

#

"What's all this about, Loki?" Bruce asked, well aware of the questioning eyes upon him. Thor in particular looked like he wanted to rip the phone away from is hand and start screaming into it. Or maybe crying. It was probably a fifty-fifty split. He was leaning forward intently. Bruce turned away.

"Leave me alone."

Bruce sat down at the table. "I don't even know how to respond to that."

"Despite my past actions, I have no intention of hurting your world or the people on it. I will, however, take any action necessary to defend myself. Leave me alone so I don't have to."

"You can't think that I'd believe you," Bruce replied. "What is this really about?"

Loki growled softly in frustration. Bruce glanced over to Tony, who was leaning over a computer, a deep frown on his face. Sensing Bruce's gaze, he looked up and shook his head. Bruce rubbed his eyes. He had to keep Loki talking.

"All right, let's say for one crazy moment outside of rationality and reason that we actually do believe you. What happens then?"

There was silence on the other end, and Bruce wondered if Loki had hung up and he hadn't noticed. But then there was a soft exhalation, and Loki spoke again.

"I don't know," he said quietly.

It was the fact that Loki actually admitted it more than the admission itself that made Bruce's brows knit. There was no way that the demigod was going to be telling him the truth about anything, was there? So obviously this was some sort of trick to throw him off the trail. But they didn't have the trail anymore and even if they had, how would this have helped get them off it?

"Look, Loki, you have to know that there is no way that we would believe that you just want to be left alone," Bruce started, and at his statement the rest of the Avenger's expressions turned incredulous. Barton let out a soft snort of disbelief. Thor sent him a black glare that the assassin either didn't notice or acknowledge. "And even if we did, after everything you've done we can't just let you go running around the planet hoping that you don't go back to your take-over-the-world ways. What is this about, really?"

"Maybe I just wanted to rub it in that I escaped your grasp once again," Loki replied swiftly, and his voice turned hard and arrogant. And somehow less believable than everything he had said up to this point. "Very clever of you, to keep looking in places where I am not. Oh, by the way, are you really one for talking about the things I've done, Banner? You, who only pretends to be something more than a mindless beast?"

There was a click, and the line went dead. Bruce lowered the phone. Loki's parting jab had left him more confused than the anger that Loki had no doubt intended. Why had Loki chosen him to talk to? He looked at his fellow Avengers. He didn't quite know how to describe that very strange incident, and so he turned to Tony as a delaying tactic.

"Did we get his location?"

Tony stood up and chuckled dryly. "Only if he's in Canada, China, and Colombia all at once. He really does know how to confuse a signal, doesn't he? And it seems like he likes C-A countries."

"He wanted us to leave him alone?" Barton asked, not letting Bruce escape from the topic at hand.

"That's what he was saying at first. He said he didn't want to hurt anyone. At the end, though, he said that he was just phoning to rub it in that we lost him again... but I don't really know what to think. He sounded almost sincere to begin with."

"Loki is a talented liar," Thor responded glumly. "It is difficult to discern the truths and falsehoods that pass through his lips, for they often intermingle."

"Can you sort out the signal, find out where he made that call from?" Rogers asked Tony, who shrugged.

"If Bruce, Jarvis and I all take a look at it, we may be able to untangle it."

Rogers nodded. "All right. In the meantime Barton, Thor and I will go back to the streets and see if we can pick up the trail again. Barton, go back to the docks. Thor, you take the theatre, and I-"

-Incoming call from Director Fury, sir-

Rogers groaned softly. "I'll take that."

Bruce nodded, grateful that he wasn't going to have to face down the fury of the Fury. He smirked slightly at his own joke. I've been hanging out with Tony too long, he thought and then started working on the computer.

Chapter Text

Loki turned the cellphone over once in his hands before throwing it as hard as he could against a nearby building. It shattered, and Loki slumped down to the ground, holding his head in his hands. His clothes were once again too big for him, and he was certain that he was still shrinking. He had given up trying to calculate how much age he would lose, but it was getting worse. The latex mask had gotten flabby over his face, and so he had pulled it off as soon as he could do so without drawing attention. It didn't much matter, since he had made his way clear to California without detection. He was as safe as he was going to get at the moment.

A city bus pulled to the stop on the street, and Loki pulled his ballcap low over his face as he got on. He made his way to the very back, hiding his face as best he could.

He hadn't expected that Banner would believe him when he said that all he wanted was to be left alone, no matter how true it was. Thoughts of vengeance still rose occasionally to his mind, but it seemed a useless gesture now. What would killing them or destroying their lives give him? Nothing but more nightmares.

But that didn't mean he was going to wait passively for them and Asgard to dictate his fate. He had known that Banner wouldn't believe him, but he also knew that this would confuse the Avengers, at least for a time. It may even cause friction between Thor and his friends, and judging by Banner's reaction-

"Stop lying to yourself," Loki muttered harshly. "You called Banner because you wanted somebody to believe you, and if any of them were going to, it would be him."

Or Thor. But how could he talk to Thor, after everything that had happened between them? Loki slumped back. Maybe he should have gone back to Stark tower with Thor. Except wasn't Banner's reaction to Loki asking to be left alone proof that Thor couldn't, or wouldn't, have protected him like he promised?

"I truly am going mad," Loki sighed to himself, digging his palms into his moist eyes. "Lost inside my madness, the lies I tell are truths."

"That is so deep. Can I put that on a bumper sticker?" A man sitting in the seat ahead of him turned around. His face was dirty, and his hair was greasy and spiky. His eyes were glassy and the smile on his face was one of complete blissful peace. Loki was intimately familiar with that look, and it wasn't one he ever wanted to see again. He pulled the ball cap down even lower over his face and tried to ignore the man.

"You're like a poet or something."

Loki glanced up briefly, wondering if it was a trick of S.H.E.I.L.D.'s, but he couldn't work out the logic of playing a drug addict instead of surrounding him by weapons and bringing him in or filling him full of holes. But then, what events had been logical since his arrival on earth? Not only had the Avengers not put him in chains, but they had actually- It was all a trick, Loki reminded himself. Only a trick.

The man moved back so that he was sitting beside Loki. He clutched a sketchpad to his chest and Loki saw the tips of watercolor pencils sticking from his coat pocket. He smelled like he hadn't bathed in a year, perhaps more. Loki shuffled over to press against the window, raising his hand to block his profile from the outside view.

The drug-addled human sat in silence for a moment, staring at Loki as if he was waiting for him to spout words of prophecy.

"Is there something that you want?" Loki asked eventually, turning to face the man. To his surprise, he wasn't a man after all. He was a boy, only thirteen or fourteen, just older than Loki himself appeared. The dirt and shaggy hair had made him look older than he actually was.

"I'm Bay. Like 'Down by the bay, where the watermelons grow'," the boy sang, his voice shrill. "Who are you?"

"I have no name," Loki replied shortly. "What do you want?"

"What you said, about the lies in the truth, it's all true, isn't it? Nobody sees that, but everything is truth. I can read your karma, man! I can read your karma. Lies are true," Bay babbled. Suddenly he sat straight and turned his clouded eyes out the window. "Lies are true. They say that lies are lies and truth is truth, but that's a lie. That's a lie because it's true. 'Back to my home, I dare not go'."

"You are a babbling madman. Leave me alone."

"I read your karma!" Bay exclaimed. "You don't want anyone stealing your magic."

"What?" Loki looked sharply at the boy. How did he know?

"Not everybody is in touch with their magic. I lost mine, it was stolen long ago. But you've still got yours, don't you, Poet? You got your magic there!" Bay jabbed Loki in the chest above his heart. "You know, this is a land without magic. That's what killed me. That's what stole my magic. That's why I can't read my karma. 'For if I do, my father will say-' My father let me go."

Loki breathed out a sigh and lowered his face to his hands. This was nothing but the ramblings of a drug addicted fool.

"I was hanging off the edge and my father let me go. He lost his karma and couldn't hold me. And I fell into the abyss."

"My brother threw me into it," Loki said suddenly, surprising himself with his honesty. "And I cut out my heart that I might live."

"You are The Poet, man," Bay said admiringly. "You are The Poet."

Loki turned to Bay and studied him closely. "What did you do, when your father let you go? How did you survive?"

"I didn't, Poet. I'm dead. I'm a dead husk walking round and round. I sit here talking, but I'm not alive. I'm far gone," Bay lapsed into silence. The clouded, glassy eyes stared into nothing. "I'm in the land of the dead."

"If you're dead, how can I be talking to you?" Loki asked with a hint of condescension in his voice.

"I don't know," Bay replied, and his brow furrowed. "You're The Poet."

"What makes me the poet?"

"Words. Words, words, words, just like that play. I don't know what it is, but it's a good one," Bay replied, beginning to rock back and forth. "Down by the bay, where the watermelons grow! Back to my home, I dare not go! For if I do, my father will say: 'Have you have seen a poet who doesn't know it?' Down by the bay, down by the bay!"

"Words," Loki repeated bitterly. "Words have never been so useless... and so unforgettable."

You lack conviction. Loki shivered as he thought about the man he had killed. He didn't believe in ghosts. The sense of a voice telling him that he could go back was nothing more than further proof that he was losing his mind.

"What are you on?" Loki asked Bay, who looked affronted for a moment before smiling broadly.

"Life, Poet. I'm on life."

Loki examined the smooth brow of the boy, the utter thoughtless quality of his eyes. His own thoughts were painful inside his head, and he longed for an escape. What was he willing to give up in order to erase the memories from his mind and the hurt that came with them? He leaned forward slightly, ignoring the stench of unwashed body. "You know where I can get some?"

#

Bruce groaned as his phone rang again. He glared at it for a moment before turning it off entirely and looking back to the computer screen. Nearby, Tony glanced over at him with a raised brow.

"Telemarketers?" he asked.

"No. I keep getting calls that are completely silent, although once there was an automated voice telling me that it was an inter-universal call and extra charges would apply." Bruce shook his head. "I thought at first it was you, but then-"

"I'm not in the mood for pranks right now, Bruce." Tony frowned. "Not when Loki's still out there."

"Yeah, I know. It's just- Oh, for crying out loud!" Bruce exclaimed as the phone began to ring again. In a fit of anger, he yanked the battery from the casing.

#

Clint sat on an old sofa that was a patchwork of repairs and cushions borrowed from other furniture. A cold beer was in his hand as he stared at the flickering TV screen. Something was wrong with the signal. It kept flickering between an old western and a sci-fi horror. He watched in a daze, not caring about the screen. His feet were propped up on a coffee table that was falling apart.

A little girl with flaming red hair climbed up onto the couch beside him and tucked herself under his arm. Her eyes were raw from crying and snot dribbled down under her nose.

"I had a bad dream," she whispered.

"It's okay, Cindy," Clint responded, pulling her in closer to him. "I'm here, it's all okay."

Cindy rested her head against him. "I love you, Clint."

Clint smiled down at her, and then leaned forward to grasp a steak knife that was sticking out of the coffee table. Cindy saw and tried to pull away, but Clint wouldn't let her go.

"Don't hurt me, please. Please, Clint."

He twirled the knife in his hand, and then brought it to her throat.

Clint woke gasping for breath. He flung himself out of bed, heading straight to the shower. But how could he clean off the feeling of blood splattering his hands that had never been there? The cold water made him shiver, but it drove the exhaustion from his body. He couldn't remember the last time that he had slept through the night.

After he dressed and had a quick bite of food to get his metabolism going, he headed down to the ground floor. He wasn't surprised when Natasha was already in the parking garage. Her arms were folded and her mouth set grimly.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked her.

"Clint, this has got to stop."

"What?"

"This. I'm worried about you."

"I'm just going for a run."

"Like you were just going for a run yesterday?" Natasha fixed him with a knowing look. "Tell me, where were you running so that you got that knife wound?"

"What knife wound?" Clint asked, though he knew better. Natasha's eyes went cold and she quickly jabbed him in the side, where the knife from a mugger had sliced the previous morning. He winced. "I just need to get back on my game, Natasha. I'm fine. It's just with Loki out there, doing who know what, I need a way to release my stress."

"I wouldn't be worried if you had told me."

"How did you know?"

"Jarvis told me."

Clint glared upwards. "Traitor."

-I don't work for you- the automated butler replied coolly. –We were in no alliance, so I can't very well be a traitor.-

"Clint, why aren't you talking to me?"

Clint wouldn't look at her, remembering the little girl who had curled up against him in his dream. The little girl whose blood he still felt on his hands. He knew that it wasn't real. Couldn't be real. He thought of all his other dreams, ones where he woke feeling Natasha's throat in his hands, felt her windpipe crushing. He knew that they weren't real. Natasha was standing in front of him, alive and well and very much upset.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not. I'm seriously considering going to Rogers with this, Barton."

Clint sighed and sat down on the bumper of a nearby car. It was probably expensive. He was probably scratching it. He didn't care. "I'm still having nightmares."

Natasha sat beside him. "About?"

"The sceptre. Killing you. Killing Phil. Killing Cindy."

"I thought you stopped dreaming about her," Natasha said softly.

Clint didn't look at her. "I had. Until Loki and the sceptre."

"They aren't real. Clint, I'm here. I'm alive. You didn't kill Phil. You didn't kill Cindy."

"I know. I just need to work this out. Please, let me do that."

Natasha bit her lip. "Let me help."

"You can't. I know you want to. I wish you could. But you can't, and that's all there is to it. But if you could get Rogers off my back about going to see a shrink, that would be nice."

"He's got a point with the psychiatrist, though." Natasha folded her arms. "I know you don't want to, but you need to talk someone who can give you professional help. I can only do so much. Especially since you're hiding things from me."

"All right. I'll think about it," Clint promised.

Natasha nodded. "So where were you going?"

"I don't know. On a run looking for trouble. I could use company."

"Well, it's a good thing that I just happened to wear my running shoes, then."

Chapter Text

Loki ran, hearing the sounds of pursuit behind him. Blood pounded in his ears. He heard something twang behind him, and in the next second felt a fiery pain in his shoulder. The pain made him stumble. Huge hands grabbed him and threw him against a wall. The arrow still protruding from his shoulder, Loki slumped to the ground as the Avengers surrounded him. He could see his death written in their eyes.

Barton stepped forward, and glared down at Loki. Of course they would choose him. The god of mischief stared back at the assassin, waiting.

"We did some genetic analysis on you," Barton sneered hatefully. "Do you know what we found?" And then, to Loki's surprise, the archer helped him to his feet and gave him a great big bear hug. "We're brothers! We have the same mother!"

"Really?" Loki asked in shock.

"Yep!" Barton released him. All the Avengers started to cheer. When they were done, they turned and stared out of the electronic screen out to you, where you stare at these words confused and probably a little annoyed.

"April fools!" they shouted in unison.

"All right, enough of this," Loki said in disgust. "Let's get back to the actual story. Take it away, MythQueen!"

...

Sorry, I couldn't resist! Originally posted on April 1

Further mentions of drug use in this chapter, along with violence. (PS, this is the actual story again)

...

Loki's steps got more hesitant the more he walked. Was this really worth it? Was the only way to silence his memories to eradicate his whole mind? From Bay's babbling, Loki assumed that they were on their way to meet his supplier, and as they drew closer the more he questioned himself. Earth was a finite place; there was only so much space that the Avengers had to search for him. And did he want to lose his mind so much that he would not be able to stay ahead of them? Did he want them to find him sitting glassy-eyed in a bus, muttering about demons and karma and falling into the abyss?

No, he did not.

He stopped halfway down a long, dank ally. He did not want to go down this road again. He did not want to be so weak, so helpless. It was not worth it.

"Bay, stop." The boy turned around. Loki frowned at him. "I've changed my mind. I won't give it up again."

"Give what up?"

Loki shook his head, not replying. Bay looked over his shoulder and went white.

"You've got a lot of nerve showing up here again."

Well, those words sounded familiar. Loki turned to see a gorilla-sized man walking towards them. Next to him was a second man who, while he didn't have the first man's girth, was no scrawny guy. Both were dressed in cheap suits.

"I need some," Bay muttered piteously. "I need some."

"You are in way over your head, Watermelon," the smaller of the two men said. He raised a sneering lip as he looked at Loki. "Who are you?"

Loki contemplated the two for a moment. "It is amazing that no matter where you go in the universe, people like you always crop up. The type of men who are so insecure in themselves that they need to bring a pet gorilla along to intimidate children. I assume that you are the drug dealer that supplies Bay here and that he owes you money?"

"No, in fact I am," the pet gorilla said in a polished accent. Loki studied him more closely. At first glance he had looked the part of dumb muscle, but on closer inspection that was clearly not the case.

"Ah. I apologise. That would make him the pet bulldog then?"

The smaller man hissed between his teeth. The larger one laughed.

"I suppose you could say that. Judging from your accent, I'd say that you're from England. You don't look like the normal type of kid who frequents dark alleys, though, especially not with kids like him." He nodded at Bay.

"I've never actually been to England."

"Where are you from then?"

Loki chuckled softly under his breath. "I'm from Asgard, actually. I'm Loki, the Norse god of mischief."

The smaller of the two men snorted and sneered. The larger laughed with appreciation. Loki grinned. It was so easy to lie with the truth, he was surprised that more people didn't do it. The best part was when people began to realise he wasn't lying at all.

"I know that I don't look the part, but that's because the king of Asgard put a spell on me to make me appear this age."

"And why'd he do that, eh?" the smaller man snickered.

"Because of the destruction I caused to this world. I'm sure you remember the extraterrestrial attack on New York City not long ago? That was my army."

"That's not funny," the small man growled, his amusment cut short. "My brother was killed in that attack."

"And if he was anything like you, the world should thank me for it."

"You little-"

The larger man grabbed the smaller one to prevent him from attacking right then. Loki smirked. "Small minded people are so easily provoked."

The larger man was staring at Loki hard, as if he wasn't sure if dismissing his words was a wise thing to do. "You can deal with the smart mouth after Bay," he said to the smaller man without breaking eye contact with Loki.

"How much does he owe you?" Loki asked quickly, stepping slightly to the side, in front of Bay. His words and actions surprised himself.

"It's not the amount that he owes me. It's that he owes me. I've got a business to run, and I must set an example from time to time. A smart kid like you should understand that. You might want to step aside."

Loki looked back at Bay. The boy was clearly terrified. "I need some, Poet, I need some life."

"That's not life you're on, Bay," Loki replied, almost reluctantly stepping to one side. "It's death. And I'm not running from the demons. I am one."

Bay didn't seem to comprehend what was going on, because as the smaller man came towards him, he reached out his hand as though he was going to take something. Loki didn't look away as the man used first his fists and then his feet to reduce Bay to a weeping, bruised and bleeding heap. It was pitiful to see, but Loki didn't intervene. Why should he?

"That's enough," the larger man said. "Now, little god of mischief."

Loki turned his attention back to the larger man and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"You were coming to buy, weren't you?"

"I changed my mind."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Very."

"But you brought cash, didn't you? You can buy your friend's life."

Loki looked down at Bay's crumpled form. "I don't have any friends."

"Look, that was me being polite. You've got cash, and you're going to give it to us."

"And if I choose not to?"

The man brushed aside his jacket to reveal a handgun sticking into his waistband. Loki sighed in disgust. Obviously the man wasn't as intelligent as he had made himself out to be. "Such crude tactics. It's appalling, really. I suppose that you also have a gun?" he asked the smaller man, who, grinning, nodded and opened his coat to reveal his gun.

Loki looked between the two men for a moment, and then shrugged. He reached into his own coat and drew out an envelope of money he had stolen from an ATM. The smaller man reached for it, but Loki drew back slightly.

"Did they find your brother's body?" he asked. "Because if they did not, that means that my Chitauri warriors must have had a little snack."

That got the reaction that Loki had been hoping for. With a burst of expletives, the smaller man lunged for him. Loki easily sidestepped the lunge, tripped him, and snatched the gun from the man's waistband. He shot the large man between the eyes before he had a chance to draw his own weapon, and then the smaller man as he was standing.

Tucking the gun into his own waistband, Loki quickly searched their bodies. He took the larger man's gun as well. The weapons could be useful. Then he took their wallets, watches, and what little jewelry they were wearing. In the breast pocket of the larger man's shirt, he found a picture of a beautiful woman and a little girl, beaming at the camera. From his wedding ring, Loki supposed that this must have been the man's wife and daughter.

"I did you a favour," he told the picture, flicking it away.

There was only one thing left to do. Loki drew the weapon he had already used and walked over to Bay. The boy was unconscious, his hands tight around his watercolor pencils. Blood was pooling on his sketchbook. Loki leveled the barrel of the gun at his head. It would not be long before human law enforcement officers arrived. Bay would be able to describe him, and then the Avengers would know that he had been there.

But instead of shooting, Loki lowered the gun again. It was true that Bay could describe him, but in his state, who would believe him? And even if they did, it would take some time for the Avengers to reach this spot and by then he would be far away, and they would not know where he had gone. Besides that, if he left three dead bodies, police would be searching for a murderer.

Loki had watched enough of those stupid TV shows to know that he could misdirect them long enough to find someplace to hide. If they were half as smart in real life as they were on TV, they'd figure it out in a matter of minutes, but it would give him a good enough head start. In the meantime, he put everything he had taken from the bodies, except one gun, into Bay's coat. He wiped his prints off of the murder weapon, placed it in Bay's hand and manipulated Bay's finger to pull the trigger one more time. And then he turned his back and walked away.

#

"I'm sorry, Tony," Pepper said softly, her image glowing on the computer screen. "I just don't think I'd do much good."

"No, it's good," Tony reassured her, resting his head in his hands. He smiled tiredly at her. "It's probably best if you stay in DC for a while. Things are a little hectic around here. 'Sides, you're still injured and you need someone who help you out and I'm just too busy with... everything."

"You still haven't found him?"

"No," Tony admitted. "We almost had him a few days ago, but he got away from us again. He was living under a theatre stage since he escaped, Pep. That guy's got infinite patience. I wouldn't have lasted a day in a place like that."

"The difference being you don't have earth's mightiest heroes searching for you," Pepper teased lightly, but her expression didn't match. "You'll find him. I know you will."

"I know we will, too. The question is when." Will it be too late? Tony didn't ask the question out loud.

-Sir, we have a hit on the search grid-

"Look, Pep, I've got to go. Say hi to Rhodey for me. I love you."

Pepper smiled. "Love you, too."

Tony closed the video, and pulled up the facial recognition search. It took two seconds longer to load into sharp relief than Tony would have liked. Behind him, the rest of the Avengers came streaming in from various doors; Jarvis must have informed them as well. Tony quickly blew the image up onto a huge virtual screen so that they could all see. It was a video feed from what looked like a police interrogation room. It was empty save for a kid who looked maybe thirteen years old. He looked like he made a habit of rolling in dirt, and was leaning over a sketchpad.

"That is not him," Thor said after a moment, sounding frustrated. "Are you sure that your butler's programming is fully functioning again, Stark?"

"Jarvis is fine. It's the software that tagged this that messed up."

"Nope. It's the drawing," Barton said suddenly. "Jarvis, zoom in on the picture that kid is drawing."

Jarvis complied, and soon a close-in view of the sketchpad filled the screen. It was clearly a picture of Loki. Tony was impressed.

"Who knew that the software would pick up a drawing?" he muttered.

The picture was well drawn. Loki looked like he was on a bus. Deep wrinkles snaked from the corners of his eyes and the line of his mouth was set tight. The artist had only just begun to color it in, starting with the eyes; the bright green gaze was intense. Tony shivered at how true to life it was.

"Jarvis, where is that?"

-California, sir. I'm getting the address now. It seems that this young man has been accused of murder, but he keeps talking about how demons are after a poet.-

"Cap, we've got to get that kid."

"I'll get Fury to pick him up for us. Stark, you've got a mansion in Malibu, right?" Rogers asked. Tony nodded. The captain continued. "I'll get him moved there. You and Thor go and hold him."

"Of course," Thor said, his gaze grim.

"You probably better leave the interrogation to me," Romanoff said. "No offence, but both of you suck at getting information."

Tony took the insult as a truth and nodded. "Sure thing."

"You had best suit up, Man of Iron," Thor suggested darkly. "I am not waiting for you."

"Do you even know where it is?" Tony asked, but Thor was already walking away.

"You better hurry, Stark," Romanoff suggested, staring after Thor's retreating back. "I don't think he was listening when I said leave the interrogation to me."

"Right," Tony muttered, and set off at a jog to suit up.

Chapter Text

Stark's Malibu mansion was more luxurious than Stark tower, if that was possible. But then, that was New York, and this was Malibu. The difference being that the tower was "work" and the mansion was "rest."

Natasha wasn't very interested in the luxury of California, or the hot beaming sun and the sounds of crashing ocean waves. She sat at a low table, alternatively looking between the pages of the sketchpad that the kid had been drawing in, the police report, and the kid himself, albeit viewed through a camera. He was pacing around the room that he had been locked in, twitching, scratching and looking terrible. He was coming down off something. Natasha didn't care to speculate what it was.

Natasha flipped through the page of the sketchbook. Each page had blood soaked into the top corner. Every drawing was the same image of Loki, haunted expression and ancient eyes. Some had smudged scribbles written around the borders of the drawing. Lost inside my madness, the lies I tell are truths. Words have never been so useless and so unforgettable. Natasha studied the last drawing, noticing that this one was slightly different. Images of Loki's face were reflected in his eyes, as if he was looking into a mirror. "I cut out my heart that I might live" was written along the bottom of the page.

"Have you not observed him enough, Agent Romanoff?"

With a sigh, Natasha turned to look at Thor, who was doing his best to be patient as he paced around the room, glaring all the while at the kid on the camera.

"Thor, calm down. I need to figure out the best way to approach this."

"He knows where my brother is."

"Maybe he knows where Loki is," Natasha said, standing up. "Maybe you should go-"

"No. If he knows where Loki is, I need to know," Thor replied instantly, stopping his pacing for a moment to stare intently at her. "I need to know."

"I know you do," Natasha said. "But let me handle this, okay? Scaring the kid speechless isn't going to help."

Thor hesitated a moment before reluctantly nodding.

Natasha turned back to the folders on the table, and picked up one of them. "His name is Dylan Gold, but he likes to be called Bay," she murmured, more to herself than to Thor. "Mother died at six. Father abandoned him at twelve. He's been in and out of foster homes and medical institutions for two years. Diagnosed with over a dozen different disorders."

She set the folder down again, and looked up again at Dylan as he paced around. She folded her arms. Poor kid. He should be playing hooky from school and flirting with girls. He shouldn't be here, accused of murder and high on drugs. Natasha shook her head, wondering if, had her life been different, she would be the one pacing in a tiny locked room suffering from withdrawals.

She stood and moved toward the door to the room. Thor started to follow her, but she held up her hand. "No."

"No?"

"No." Natasha put her hand on his shoulder. "Look, Thor, I know you're worried, but like I said, scaring the kid out of his mind isn't going to help us find Loki. You know that. Wait out here. If he knows anything, he'll tell me. Trust me," she continued as Thor opened his mouth to protest. "I know what I'm doing. Dylan isn't a villian."

Thor stared at her a moment longer, and then reluctantly nodded. "Very well."

Natasha nodded. When she walked into the holding room, Dylan backed up into the farthest corner. His face was one massive bruise. Natasha smiled reassuringly at him and sat on the corner of the narrow table. "Hello. My name is Natasha."

The boy twitched for a moment, and then muttered. "Your hair is red."

"Yes, it is. Your name is Bay, isn't it?"

"Down by the bay..." Dylan sang.

"Bay, I was looking at your sketchbook here. You're a very talented artist." Natasha opened the sketchbook and held it up to that Dylan could see the picture he drew. Slowly the boy started inching forward. "Where did you meet this boy?"

"He's The Poet, man, he's The Poet."

"The poet? What do you mean by that?"

Dylan came forward and quickly tapped on the words written around the border. "He has the words. He says 'Lies are truth' and 'Words are useless'."

"He sounds like the poet," Natasha said softly, her brow furrowing as she contemplated Dylan. "Where did you meet him?"

"The bus. He was on the bus, escaping from the demons. They want to steal his magic."

Natasha didn't let her alarm show on her face. "He told you that?"

"No, man, I could read his karma. The demons, they want to steal his magic, like they stole my magic. He had to run to get away from them. But there's always demons, everywhere. They're always stealing magic," Dylan said emphatically, and then went very still, staring at her. "Did they steal your magic, too? Is that why your eyes are so sad?"

"I'm not sure if I ever had magic."

"Everyone has magic. Until the demons steal it."

"Where was the bus where you met the poet?"

Dylan scratched his arms. "He was leaving New York, so he came here. New York's got the most magic, and that's why it's got the most demons. The Poet had to escape, because they found him. He hid from them, he hid right in their house, but then they found him and tried to burn him and he had to escape. That's when I met him."

Natasha's eyebrows raised in surprise. Had Loki told Dylan about what had happened in New York? "That's terrible."

"Demons are terrible." Dylan nodded.

Natasha studied the boy for a moment. "Do you know where he is now?"

Dylan shook his head. "No. He left after the circle."

"What circle?"

"The circle, man, the circle!" Dylan cried, getting agitated. "The circle of life! It's where we go to live."

Ah. Natasha felt an unexplainable ball of dread sink into her stomach. While she wasn't familiar with this particular expression, Dylan's agitation and actions were enough to make it clear to her what he was talking about. Loki had gone with Dylan to see a drug dealer. Why? Was he going to build a network of criminals, or was it something else?

"What did you do at the circle?"

"We were going to the circle, because he wanted some life." Natasha couldn't hide her surprise. She searched Dylan's face and found that he was telling the truth, at least as far as he knew it. "But when we got there, he changed his mind. He said he wasn't willing to give it up again."

Natasha's brow furrowed. "Wasn't willing to give what up?"

"Life is for the dead, he said," Dylan continued, as if he hadn't heard her. "Because I'm dead, you see. I couldn't cut out my heart, and so I died. But he's not dead, and he said that life was death to the living. But then the demons came, they came and they killed me and they took him. And then the other demons came and said I killed people. I didn't kill people. That was the demons, they killed people."

Natasha wouldn't have been able to make sense of what Dylan had just said if she hadn't already read the police report. Looking at the boy, she was certain that he hadn't pulled the trigger that had killed the two men he was found near – Loki had. And it was equally clear that those dead men were the drug dealers that he had gone to see. No drugs had been found on their bodies, though. Had they just not carried any with them, or had Loki taken whatever they did have?

"Bay, I need you to think, okay? Did you see the demons take the Poet?"

Dylan shook his head. "They killed me first."

"Some people think that the poet is a demon, and that he killed the people."

Dylan shook his head more emphatically. "No, no, no. He's got the magic, he's no demon. If he was a demon, he would have killed me, too, but he didn't. So they took him."

"No, Bay, they didn't." Natasha paused a moment, calculating the best way to go about this. "He ran away. The demons didn't get him."

Dylan stopped shaking his head. "He got away?"

Natasha nodded. "Look, Bay, I can see that you're a good person, and so I'm going to trust you with a secret. We are looking for the poet, too. We're trying to save his magic from the demons. The demons know where he is. We have to find him first. Can you tell me where he went?" Dylan's scratching started again. "Bay, do you know where the poet is?"

Dylan looked confused.

Natasha sighed. She wasn't going to get anything else from Dylan about Loki, she could tell. She handed him back his sketchpad, and contemplated him for a moment. "Bay, what if I told you that we can give you back some magic?"

"You can?"

Natasha nodded. "This stuff that you call life, that's the demons. That's how they steal your magic. It's not life. It's death. Every time you take it, the demons steal your magic again. We can help you stop taking it. Do you want that?"

Dylan looked at her suspiciously. "I'm already dead."

"No, you're alive, Bay. The demons want you to think you're dead."

Dylan started scratching again. "But you'll help The Poet, right?"

Natasha nodded. "And we can help you, if you'll let us."

Slowly, Dylan nodded.

#

Pepper read the final sentence in the card that Loki wrote and then threw it on the coffee table. She looked up at Natasha, who apparently had flown all the way to DC straight from California to deliver the card. Natasha sat with her legs crossed, watching Pepper's reaction.

"So?" Pepper demanded harshly.

"What do you think?"

"Why should I care?"

Natasha raised her eyebrows. "Pepper."

"He flat out says that he'd kill me. I think he's missed the point of a get well card." Natasha didn't reply, and Pepper glared at her. "What?"

"He says a lot more than that."

"Yeah, he says that he doesn't care that he already almost killed me. And that it was great stupidity on my part to ever offer kindness to him. He's right. I was very stupid, and I will not be making that mistake again. I hope that he's caught by-" Pepper cut herself off abruptly, ashamed of what she had been about to say. She looked away.

Natasha understood. "You don't really hope that Clint finds him first."

"No," Pepper sighed. "I don't. I really don't."

"Can I tell you what I read in this?" Natasha asked, picking up the card.

Pepper glared at the offending, glittery card. "Go ahead."

"Miss Potts," Natasha started, looking at the card. "I'm sorry for hurting you, but I don't know how to say that. I'm glad that you weren't permanently injured. I have grown fond of you, although I would never admit it to anybody, not even myself. I realise that you were being kind to me for kindness's sake, and that confuses me. If I killed you, I would never be able to live with myself. Loki."

Pepper folded her eyes and pressed her lips together. She looked at the card for a moment and then shook her head. "You're guessing."

Natasha shrugged. "I'm usually pretty good at guesses."

"You can be wrong. As I recall, you didn't want Tony to be part of the Avengers."

"He's not the right type," Natasha replied, and then shrugged again. "All I'm saying here is that Loki didn't mean to hurt you like he did. He's worried about you."

"You're still just guessing. And even if you're right, what does it matter? It's not like I can just phone him up and ask him to come home." Pepper glared at the card again.

"No. I don't think there is anything you can do right now," Natasha agreed. "But when we catch him, I think you're the only one who will be able to get through to him."

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

Natasha contemplated Pepper for a moment. Her phone started riging. Sighing, she looked at it and then stood. "I need take this. l'll probably need to head back to New York." She held the phone to her ear. "What's up, Cap? What? How he get to England without us noticing?"

Pepper didn't say anything as Natasha left. She was too busy wrapped up in her own thoughts. Hesitantly, she picked up the card and read it again.

#

Loki paced his cell in Asgard. Rage was hot in his chest. He thought that his anger would explode, consuming him with its flames. He didn't understand the point of these long trials and deliberations, not when the path Odin would take in the end was so clear. Why not just proclaim his death and be done with it?

"Do you wish to torment me with this waiting?" Loki shouted, seizing the single chair in the cell and hurling it against the wall. It broke, shattering like glass. He sat on the bed, hanging his head in his hands. Rage still burned in him, but it sapped his energy now rather than feeding it.

He heard the scrape of a key in the lock and looked up sharply to see Frigga enter the cell. Loki stood quickly, taking in the red of her eyes and her fragile bearing. She had been weeping. A pang of regret lessened the rage in his heart as he gazed at his mother. He couldn't speak.

"Loki," she said softly, walking forward cautiously as though she was afraid of him. She stopped when she was in arm's reach and searched his eyes. "Why?"

Loki dropped his gaze to the floor.

Frigga reached out to him but stopped herself. Her hand dropped as she gazed at him and fresh tears welled in her eyes. "Njord is right about you, Loki. I wish it were not so, but it is. You have caused too much pain. To the universe. To the realm. To this family. To me. I will not fight for your life, because you are unworthy of it."

Loki flinched at her words. They were more painful than anything that he had suffered after falling into the abyss. More painful than all the torture that had been inflicted upon him by the hand of Thanos.

"Mother-" he stated, wanting to say something, anything, to let her know that he had never intended to cause her pain, but she raised her hand and stopped him. Tears splashed onto her cheeks as she spoke.

"I am not your mother."

Loki woke to tears on his face. For a moment, he didn't know if it was only a dream, or a memory as well. But no – he hadn't permitted Frigga to speak with him after Thor took him back to Asgard. It was the one freedom left to him, the ability to refuse visitors that were not members of council. She had come every day, despite the fact that he sent her away each time.

He was pulled from his thoughts as the rattle-trap farm truck he had hitched a ride with rolled to a stop. He hastily cleaned his face.

"This is as far as I can take you," the old farmer told him, frowning in concern at, in his mind, the boy. "You were crying for your mother while you slept."

"Thanks for the ride," Loki muttered, opening the door.

The farmer laid his hand on Loki's shoulder, stopping him. "I don't know what demons you're running from, but can they be so bad that you can't go home?"

"I don't have a home."

The farmer contemplated him for a moment. "You're mother's probably crazy with worry."

Loki smirked humourlessly. "I doubt it."

"Don't you think that she'll forgive you, for whatever it is you did?"

"No," Loki replied honestly. "Forgiveness is a fairy tale."

The farmer sighed and withdrew. "Where are you going, anyway?"

Loki shrugged as he slipped out of the truck. "Away."

Chapter Text

The cemetery was eerily silent, but Loki supposed that was the lot of graveyards. He had never liked being close to the totems of the dead, let alone their decaying bodies. He thought he could hear their souls whisper words of madness into his ears. But what of it? He was destined for madness no matter what the dead whispered to him.

He shuffled along, not knowing why he had sought out this place. The wind blew through the old overcoat and thin sweater that he had been wearing for the past few weeks, and his worn shoes were soaked through with moisture. He stopped when he found the marker that had drawn him back to New York City, ten months after he had left it. It was plain, unadorned, sunken in the ground but obviously well cared for. Romanoff and Barton probably visited often. Loki stared at the name on the gravestone. He had been thinking of this man ever since the theatre fire. He hadn't even known Phil Coulson's name until that night.

"Hello."

Loki turned to see a woman approaching. She was bundled up against the wind and had a small bouquet of red carnations in her hand.

"Hello," Loki replied, beginning to shuffle away from her. He was well aware that the bushy beard and long, scruffy hair made him look like a homeless man – Which I am, he thought bitterly, in more ways than one.

He was good at hiding, but S.H.E.I.L.D. was good at finding. In the past ten months he hadn't stayed in more than one place for a few days. Even then, he had had many narrow escapes.

"Did you know him?" the woman asked, laying the carnations on the grave of the same dead man he had sought out.

Loki knew that he shouldn't stay and talk, but he found himself drawn into conversation. It had been a long time since anyone spoke to him with any kind of civility. "I met him once. He seemed a very... dedicated man. How did you know him?"

"I- we dated for a while before I moved... after that we kind of drifted apart. But-" The woman's voice wavered. "It's just so stupid, you know? He wasn't even supposed to be in New York, and then all of a sudden there are aliens attacking and... Why him?"

Loki remained silent as the woman began crying. If he could go back in time, he wouldn't have killed Coulson. But not for repentance or shame. He had no regret for killing the man. He had a goal, and Coulson was in the way. A casualty of war. Thousands died every day and the lucky ones had someone to weep over them. No, Loki would have spared Coulson because it was his death that had united the Avengers.

"I am sure that he died heroically," Loki said to the weeping woman.

"What does it matter? He still died."

Loki nodded. Without another word, he turned his back on the grave. The woman didn't say anything, and he walked away. He breathed in deeply, the cold air chilling him thoroughly as he headed back into the dirty streets of the city.

Taking the alleys and back roads, Loki finally found a garbage bin that he could crouch behind to block the cutting wind. His eyes were heavy, but he was afraid to sleep deeply – not just because of the possibility of S.H.E.I.L.D. or other hostiles finding him unawares, but from the cold. If he let himself go too much, his Jötunn physiology would assert itself, like it had in Russia. That was a sure-fire way of landing on S.H.E.I.L.D.'s radar again. How many blue men were in the city?

With a sigh, Loki leaned his head back against the dirty wall, his green eyes dull with hopelessness. He had escaped from Stark tower, he had evaded his enemies for more than a year, but he was still captive. There was nothing on earth that could get him off of it.

Trapped, he thought, as Odin had planned.

Loki choked out a bitter laugh. How much more could he take? His stomach cramped with hunger, he shivered with the cold and he was still plagued by nightmares. S.H.I.E.L.D. would never stop hunting him. And when they found him...

By this time, if they didn't kill him outright, they would soon find a way to send him back to Asgard to face the calls for his blood there. They would find him, he knew that. He had spent too long running, just barely a step ahead of them, always looking over his shoulder and seeing their shadow. He couldn't run forever. He was tired of running. But would they find him crouched behind a garbage bin, shivering and hungry?

No. Loki stiffly stood, determined in his resignation. He was not going to be caught like a beast in a trap. He would not be a dirty creature cornered and scorned. Defeat was inevitable, but he would retain something of dignity.

Once he made up his mind, he acted quickly. He picked the pocket of a passerby and used the credit card he found to buy shaving gel, a razor, scissors and a pair of fresh clothing. Then he found a subway station where he could shave and trim his hair, changing from his ragged homeless wear. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. He was more pale and gaunt than he had realised, but nonetheless didn't change his course.

Loki found a hotel and as he walked in, he gave a smile and wave to the security camera. S.H.I.E.L.D. would pick him up quickly.

He got a room for one night – he wouldn't even need it that long, he was sure – and quickly showered to banish the remaining traces of his long months on the streets. He then settled onto the bed with a sigh, and wondered if it would be the Avengers that Fury sent after him, or somebody else so that Thor could be told that his death was from self-defense.

Loki had scarcely settled himself down when the phone began to ring; a harsh, mocking sound. A smile twisted his lips. So it was the Avengers who would come for him. Fury feared Thor more than Loki had realised. He reached for the phone.

"Hello."

"Loki. How are you doing?" Stark's sarcastic voice, full of false friendship, came over the line.

"Calling to try to talk me in, are you?"

There was a soft snort. "Yeah, something like that. What's your play?"

It made Loki fiercely gleeful that even in humiliating defeat he had some power of mischief still. "No play, Mr Stark. I am bored of seeing your world and I am certain that you have pursuits with which to waste your time and money that do not include your fruitless attempts to find me. Whom shall I expect to "bring me in" as you humans say?"

"You're a smart man," Stark replied, and the false friendliness slipped. "Guess."

Loki was silent for a moment. Whatever they decided to do with him – whether kill him or imprison him until he could be returned to Asgard to be killed – he would not give up his words. They were the only weapons, the only defenses, he had left.

"My guess?" he said, and he leaned back and closed his eyes. These were the last moments of relative freedom he would have. Why not try to enjoy the soft bed for what little time he had left? "The idiot who still sees me as his brother; the outdated relic of past war; the man who harbours a beast; two master murders and the child in a suit of armour. Am I right?"

"Nice throwback, but you forgot Jarvis," Stark responded. "He's coming, too."

"Ah, yes. Do apologise to the false consciousness for me." Loki looked up in surprise as he heard the tell-tale sounds of machine flight outside his window. "Here already, are you?"

"What-?"

The window suddenly blew in. Glass shards impacted Loki's face. The force of the blast sent him spiraling off the bed. He hit the floor with a groan. The phone clattered beside his head, the wire pulling out of the base.

Loki pushed himself to his feet. The sound of engines chopping air filled the hotel room. A Chitauri fighter materialized, hovering just outside the building. Dread filled Loki. He backed away, the promise made so long ago returning to his mind.

He will make you long for something sweet as pain.

The fighter shot out a bright bolt of blue energy. It slammed into Loki's chest, impacting him into the far wall. He heard something crack, but wasn't sure if it was the wall or his own bones. He slumped to the floor. Just before his vision went black, he saw the Chitauri warrior dismount and come towards him.

#

Thor landed in the blown-in hotel room seconds before Stark. He gripped Mjölnir tightly as he scanned the room. Shards of glass, wood and plaster were everywhere, the pictures had been knocked off the walls, the mirror on the far side of the room was shattered, and there was no sign of Loki. Thor cursed. Loudly.

Stark opened his faceplate and looked around at the scene of destruction. "Did he lure us here just to escape again?" he asked doubtfully. "'Cause it sure looked like he was turning himself in to me."

"Loki did not cause this destruction," Thor pointed at the glass sunk into the far wall. "Look; the wall was blown in, not out, and he was in this room when it happened."

"How can you tell?"

Thor gestured to the Loki-sized indentation on the wall. There was a streak of blood near the bottom, and Thor's stomach knotted. "He was attacked, Stark. If this was Fury-"

"It wasn't Fury," Stark replied instantly, but he sounded doubtful. He glanced nervously at the god of thunder. "Thor, this wasn't Fury. He's a smart man, and he would never risk antagonising you like this. You're one of the Avengers; earth's mightiest heroes, you know? He wouldn't do this."

Thor angrily stalked through the room. Loki had been here. And now he was gone. Thor really, really wanted to hit something. He had failed in all his duties to both his brother and this world. It was his responsibility to ensure that Loki remained unable to cause trouble for the people of earth, just as it was his responsibility to ensure that Loki remained safe. On both counts, he had failed, and continued to fail. Was that why he had heard no word from Asgard since his arrival on earth?

Unable to contain his self-disgust, Thor kicked the bed frame. The mattress overturned and splinters of wood flew to the roof.

"Whoa!" Stark said, backing up. "Careful!"

"I apologise," Thor replied, slightly chagrinned.

"He's your brother, I understand. Sort of. Just try not to take it out on the crime scene, we need to dust for fingerprints or whatever it is that Barton and Romanoff do."

"Loki is not 'sort of' my brother. He is my brother," Thor growled, taking offence at Stark's statement.

Stark raised his hands in what normally would be a placating gesture, but with his Iron Man suit looked more like a gesture meant to protect himself in case Thor decided to attack. "I meant that I sort of understand. Sheesh! You really need to go see Jane again."

Thor lowered his head, ashamed at his outburst. "I apologise. I- Wait, when you say I should visit Jane, you are saying that I am getting 'scary' again, aren't you?"

Stark nodded. "Yeah."

Thor grimaced. Sometimes he forgot that his human friends were human. On Asgard, the Warriors three would have collectively said something by now. But he also couldn't kill them with a single swing of his hammer, as Stark pointed out the last time he had been forced to leave the search for a weekend.

"I am sorry, my friend," Thor sighed. "This is incredibly difficult for me."

"Hey, no problem. Just don't smite anyone, and we're all good."

Thor managed a smile. "You have my word."

By this time, the other Avengers arrived, entering the room via the doorway rather than the gaping hole in the wall. They all looked about the scene with raised eyebrows. Romanoff and Barton both immediately looked to the broken wall. Romanoff frowned. Barton's brow remained smooth. Thor could see that he was calculating how much blood was on the wall, and if it was enough to have killed Loki. He fought against his anger.

"He escaped again?" Banner sighed.

"No, he was attacked," Romanoff replied softly. "Look at the pattern of debris. It was blown in, not out."

"He could have done this," Barton muttered.

"Why would he? He was turning himself in," Rogers countered swiftly. "Why would he give away his location and then do this?"

Barton remained silent.

"Start canvassing the area, let's see if there were any witnesses," Rogers continued. "Who would go through this much trouble to attack Loki?"

"Anybody who knew who he was," Barton replied. Catching Thor's look, he clarified. "I'm not talking about people going for revenge, Thor. There are hundreds of people who would want to use his knowledge to their advantage. Terrorist cells, criminal organizations, corrupt governments, not to mention all the companies looking to advance their sales... If they knew that Loki is from another world, then they would all be fighting to get just a taste of the knowledge in his head. And it would be very bad for the rest of us."

Thor was somewhat placated by Barton's explanation, but had a feeling that the warrior still was harbouring hopes that Loki was captured somewhere being tortured. But even though it made him furious, Thor could not condemn Barton's feelings. He had suffered the worst out of all the Avengers. If it had been anybody but his brother, Thor would have said that Barton was justified in whatever revenge he saw fit.

Your hypocrisy is astounding, a small voice, that sounded suspiciously like Loki's, sneered in the back of his head. If you were in Barton's place, would you show your tormenter mercy simply because he was the brother of your colleague? No, you would not.

I am well aware of my hypocrisy, he replied to it. But Loki is my brother and I will defend him, until death if necessary.

The voice, thankfully, remained silent.

"They wanted him alive, whoever they were," Romanoff said, looking around the room again. "The question is, who are they and where is he now?"

Chapter Text

"How could there be an explosion like that in the middle of the city and yet nobody saw anything?" Clint complained bitterly. They had been asking questions for what seemed hours, and had gotten nowhere.

"Whoever took Loki knew what they were doing," Natasha replied. "Stark and Banner might be able to pull something off the street cameras. I wouldn't hold out any hope, though. We're dealing with someone who's got tech, Clint. Someone who could find Loki before we did. And let's face it, Stark has pretty much the coolest toys that we know of."

"So it's a new group."

"Or an old one," Natasha countered.

"Hydra?"

"Maybe. They did have tesseract technology. A small faction could have survived. And then there's the possibility of aliens."

Clint furrowed his brow for a moment, and then he shook his head. "Or it could all be some sort of trick that Loki's got planned to make us run around in circles while he steals the codes of every nuclear missile on the planet and starts world war three and the end of humanity."

"I don't think so, Clint. Not this time."

"Why not?"

Natasha shrugged. "I can't say for sure. It's a possibility, one that I am not discarding until we have evidence to the contrary, but I don't think that any of this was Loki's intentions. Somebody took him by surprise, which is not an easy thing to do."

Clint rubbed his thumb against his bow. "Have you told Rogers your Hydra theory?"

"No," Natasha snorted. "Can you imagine how he'd react if there was even the slightest possibilty that he didn't completely get rid of Hyrda? He'd drive himself insane trying to root out whatever stronghold they may or may not have, and drive us all insane with him."

"He's not that crazy. He knows that he's only one man."

"But he's Captain America." Natasha spared a brief, ironic smile at Clint. "You know what he's like. He would spend all his time helping little old ladies cross the street and rescuing kittens from trees while saving the world if he could. Sometimes it's a little bit digusting how honourable he is. But that's why he's so good at what he does, I suppose."

Clint snorted, but grew serious again quickly. "Natasha, we have to talk."

"I know." Natasha glanced over her shoulder as a dog started barking. "Clint, you can't hurt Loki when we find him."

"I'm not going to hurt him," he responded grimly. "I'm going to kill him."

Natasha stopped, and turned to Clint. He responded in like, staring directly in her eyes so that she could see that he was serious. Her expression hardened. "Clint, you can't."

"Yes, I can. He's not indestructable. I'll find a way. He will pay for what he did to me, Natasha. He will pay for killing Coulson."

"Clint, I miss him too-"

"I know you do. Which is why I don't get why you keep defending the man who killed him."

"Thor would kill you if you killed his brother."

"According to Loki, he isn't Thor's brother."

"Thor doesn't see it that way."

"I don't care. I don't care about Thor, I don't care whatever twisted sense of loyalty he thinks he owes Loki." Clint's grip was so tight on his bow that his fingers hurt. "Loki is too dangerous to live. You know that as well as I do."

Natasha's eyes flashed. "This has nothing to do with the threat Loki poses to the planet. This is all about revenge."

"Yeah. So?"

"Thor is too powerful and too valuable an ally to alienate him like this, Clint."

Clint scoffed. "Thor is an idiot. If he had any sense, he would have smashed Loki's head in himself."

"Maybe. And maybe if you had any sense, you would have killed me when you were sent to do so instead of giving me a second chance."

"Stop comparing yourself to him!" Clint hissed. "He isn't you, Natasha. He doesn't deserve a second chance. He doesn't deserve death. Death is too quick and easy."

"And is he worth dying over?" Natasha shot back. "Is he worth that, Clint? Is he worth antagonizing not only Thor but Asgard? Is Loki worth risking the entire planet?"

"They want him dead, too. I'd be doing them a favour. They send him to earth, I kill him, they didn't have to and can rest whatever guilt they may suffer on that."

"Stop being stupid. You really think that the Asgardians are going to be happy that a human on earth killed one of their princes? If you do that, you can bet that they'd instantly remember everything that he did for them instead of against them and be furious that a mortal like you could take it upon himself to murder one of their own."

"I don't give-"

"I do!" Natasha exclaimed, fighting to keep her voice down. "I care about this world more than that. I care about you more than that."

Clint refused to look her in the eye. "Well, maybe you care more about me than I do."

"You're just getting that now?" Natasha asked gently. She reached out and touched his shoulder. "Clint, you saved my life. You pulled me out of the darkness. You gave me something to live for that wasn't revenge and killing. And now, you're slipping into that exact same darkness, and it's killing me to watch you."

"I've been there before," Clint replied harshly. "And the man who saved me is dead because Loki stabbed him in the back."

"I know. But I also know that Phil wouldn't want you to go down this path." Natasha cupped his face in her hands, an uncharacteristically emotional and intimate gesture for her. Clint allowed himself to meet her eyes. He saw pain and worry there. "I don't know if Loki can be redeemed, and quite frankly I don't care. I don't care about him. I care about you. You are worth more than him."

Clint gazed back into her eyes, and sighed deeply. "And what if it had been me instead of Phil that Loki killed? Would you still be saying this?"

"No. But Phil would be telling me exactly what I'm telling you. You know he would."

And he did. It was almost as if Phil was standing right beside him, shaking his head with disappointment. "Smarten up, Barton, look at what really matters. Let it go."

"I can't just let it go, Tasha."

"You can, if you hold onto something else."

"Like what?"

Natasha dropped her hands. "Don't make me choose between you and the planet, Clint."

He understood what she meant, and dropped his gaze again. "I can't promise that."

She smacked his shoulder, hard. "Not good enough."

"I can't promise."

"You can promise to try a little harder."

"I don't want to try."

She smacked him again.

"All right, I can try to try," Clint muttered. "That's all you're going to get."

Natasha turned on her heel and started walking away. "It'll do for now, Clint."

Clint closed his eyes and sighed. "Natasha, wait." She stopped and looked back. Slowly, he walked to join her. "I haven't been completely honest with you."

She waited in silence.

Clint didn't know how to begin. "I hate Loki. I think we all know that. But I- I was starting to feel sorry for him. Before he escaped Stark tower. I saw what you saw. He was frightened and confused that we weren't torturing him, and he wanted that. And I hate him all the more for it. I don't want him to feel guilty about what he's done because that means that redemption is possible, and I hate him too much. I hate myself too much."

Natasha's gaze was too steady for him to return, and his eyes dropped.

"I keep telling myself that it wasn't me, that it was him," Clint continued in a low voice. "It was magic and nothing that I was trained for. It doesn't help. I have nightmares every time I close my eyes. Each night I kill you, or Phill, or Cindy in every way I wish I could kill him. Sometimes in the middle of the day I hear a noise and I panic, thinking that it will be him with the scepter and that I'll lose my mind again." Clint fell silent for a moment. "I'm afraid, Natasha. I'm afraid that if I let go of my hate all I'll have left is the guilt and fear."

He stared down at the ground, unable to bring himself to look up at her. His confession was raw on his tongue, and it left a bitter taste in his throat. It was always in his training and instinct not to let another being see his vulnerability. He had never really had anybody to share his fears with. He trusted Natasha with his life. Now he needed to trust her with his soul.

Natasha stepped forward and touched his hand. "I know, Clint," she said softly. "And I'm sorry. I really am truly sorry, but that's exactly how Loki feels."

Clint ripped away from her, anger welling in him. He couldn't believe that she would say something like that. "I am nothing like him."

Natasha's eyes were pleading. "Please don't hate me for saying this, and I'm sorry, but you are. And so am I, and so is Banner, and Stark, and Thor and even Rogers. Loki is the villain in all of us; the villain we hate and want to destroy. But there is hope, Clint. For him. For us. If only we let ourselves see it."

It was the emotion in her voice that stopped him from bluntly telling her that she was insane. She was a great spy, a great actress. Sometimes even he had a hard time knowing if she was sincere or not. But all he could see when he searched her face was that same raw vulnerability that he felt. He took her hand again, to show her that he didn't hate her, but didn't speak.

"Clint?"

He looked at her, finally worn down by the soft plea in her voice. "I promise that I won't kill Loki, unless he gives me a reason. A good reason. One that not even Thor will be able to ignore."

Relief passed over her face. "Thank you."

Clint nodded. "We'd better get back to the others."

Natasha nodded, and in an instant, both of their shields had come back up. They dropped their hands to their sides and marched back the way they had come.

#

Loki was awakened by ice-cold water being dumped over his head. He jerked forward, but couldn't move. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. His chest hurt with each breath he drew and it took a moment for his vision to settle and the nausea to stop. He was sitting in a chair, his arms and legs tied so tightly that his hands and feet were numb. Something was locked painfully over his mouth. A muzzle of some sort.

A bright light shone on him, though the rest of the room was dark. Loki couldn't make out much, but it seemed to be plain and empty. He heard the soft click of boots on a hard floor. Dread seized him when he saw the distinctive shadow of a Chitauri on the wall.

Loki remembered instantly the moments before he blacked out and fought against the fear that rose in his chest. He looked up, knowing what he would see. Standing in front of him was a man, if man was the right word, grey-skinned, cloaked and hooded. The hands at his sides were two-thumbed. The Other, the second-hand man of Thanos. A grin was on his face.

"You thought you could hide from us on earth?" the Other sneered, walking forward slowly. "You thought you could escape vengeance for your betrayal?"

Loki gazed steadily at the Other, forcing himself not to flinch when the two-thumbed hand suddenly struck across his face. Had his mouth not been bound, he would have replied, but they had taken his last weapon away from him. He could do nothing but wait. Even his magic would be useless; the Other knew all his abilities and would have set up safeguards to prevent him from using them. Just like the first time they had met.

"He gave you the scepter, he gave you command of our army, and you failed." The Other leaned in over the demigod. Loki stared at the bindings where the Other's eyes ought have been. He could not allow himself to show his fear. He would not give his enemy that satisfaction. "You will taste the cost of your failure."

Loki rolled his eyes even though dread settled deeper into his stomach. A Chitauri warrior came forward. It cut the bindings holding Loki in place and then pulled him to his feet. The numbness in his legs made it difficult to stand. He fought to keep his eyes empty as the warrior dragged him across the room. He knew what was coming. He knew that resistance was futile. Once again, this would be his fate. Only it would be worse this time, Loki realised; he didn't have the narcotics in his system to dull the pain as he had had before.

The Chitauri warrior tied his hands together. The bands cut into his wrists. The rope was looped through a ring in the wall high enough that when Loki was hoisted to it, he could hardly reach the floor with his toes. His face against the wall, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose, steeling himself for what was to come.

The crackling prongs of a whip buzzed and snapped behind him, and Loki fiercely grit his teeth together.

"Wait," the Other commanded. "Remove the dog's muzzle. I want to hear him scream."

Chapter Text

Loki rested his head against the wall, breathing deeply. His eyes were closed, and his body shivered from the cold and pain. His back was almost numb from the welts criss-crossing it. His jaw hurt from clenching it, and his inner cheek was a pulpy mash from where he had ground the flesh between his teeth to keep himself from crying out.

He hadn't screamed, not even when the Other had taken the whip in a fury and beat him until he could no longer think for the pain. When he still refused to scream, the Other had thrown the whip down in disgust and had left, taking the Chitauri warrior with him. A while later, somebody had come in to apply a healing balm to his ragged skin, which stung worse than the whip. Loki was aware that this is what the Other liked to do. Heal his victims between bouts of torture. That way, it hurt worse and the unfortunate soul wouldn't die so quickly.

Nevertheless, Loki welcomed the brief respite, taking the advantage to rest his body the best he could. He couldn't feel the bands cutting into his wrists, and let himself hang limply. It really wasn't so bad, not compared to his nightmares. Somehow, the pain hurt less when it was dealt out by somebody he hated, and not Thor or Odin or any of those that had once proclaimed themselves his friends.

He heard the sound of a door open behind him and hurried to press his toes against the floor, allowing him to straighten somewhat. It was a generally futile attempt, but he would show every bit of strength that he had until it was all gone.

"Bring him down," the Other ordered, and a Chitauri stepped forward and cut the rope. Loki crumpled to the floor, unable to support himself. The Chitauri jerked him upright, and then forced him to his knees before the Other, bearing down on his shoulders as though he had the strength to fight back.

"What now?" Loki drawled, managing despite his dry voice to sound bored.

"Your brother searches for you," the Other said, his voice low.

"I don't have a brother," Loki replied, but even as he spoke his heart leapt and he knew that hope would light his eyes. He had betrayed himself yet again.

The Other surveyed him, circling him. "You don't?"

"No."

The Other laughed. "Your mind is weak, Loki Odinson."

"Odin is not my father. I don't have a family."

"And that hurts you, does it not?" the Other hissed, leaning in close behind Loki. "You loved them and they betrayed you. You love them still."

Loki's brow wrinkled briefly before he banished emotion from his face. Was this torture? Words would do nothing to him. He knew them too well, knew how utterly useless they were, his weapons. "Love is nothing more than a child's prayer."

"You are a child. A child, lost and alone in a world too big for you. Where is your brother to protect you? You father to give you praise? Your mother to soothe your wounds?" Loki tensed involuntarily. The Other laughed again. "You think I could not tell your childish needs? Cast out from your home, you longed for the warmth of love. You thought that by taking this world you could create a place for yourself, a place where you belonged."

"Well, that is quite the revelation," Loki replied dryly. "I am so glad that you've decided to explain this to me. I would never have known on my own."

"You think your words will save you?"

"I don't think anything can save me." The Other stopped in front of him and looked down at him through the bindings. Loki smiled. "So when is it going to start? Making me long for something as sweet as pain. I'm a little disappointed this far. You haven't even gotten me to scream. Are you really so impotent?"

The Other hissed and struck his across the face. Loki laughed.

"Your punishment has not yet begun." The Other looked up at the Chitauri warrior. "Prepare him."

Loki's laughter trailed away, but he kept the mocking smile on his face. He had no idea what to expect. But what could possibly be done to him that was worse than anything he had already gone through? Betrayed, cast out, defeated, humiliated. The family he once would have given his life for was not his family. The realm that he had loved as his home wanted him dead.

What could be worse than learning he was the monster he had always feared and hated? What could be worse than realising that the man who had raised him, who had always claimed to love him, had taken him as just another bargaining chip, a stolen relic whose only use was nullified by the favoured, true son's stupidity? What else could the Other possibly do to him?

The Chitauri dragged him to his feet and flung him face-down onto what appeared to be a surgical table. He was strapped in place, and even the smile faded from his face. The beating of his heart betrayed his new sense of fear. His mind could be as conniving as it wanted to be; his emotions and body had other ideas. The Other saw and smiled.

"Not so brave now." He stepped forward, holding out his hand to the Chitauri. He was handed an alabaster container carved with strange, blocky designs. Loki's brow knitted when he saw it. The Other brandished it close to his face. "You know what this is?"

"I have a feeling I am going to find out."

The Other's smile widened. "You have heard of the Valdkvikindi."

Loki couldn't stop the fear from spreading across his face. His heart hammered against his chest and his eyes locked on the alabaster container.

"Now you fear me," the Other snickered. "Now you will scream."

"I thought that the purpose of this was to torture me, not kill me," Loki replied, and he hated how dry his throat was. He tried to smooth the fear from his brow, but knew that his body continued to betray him.

"I cannot do both?"

Loki didn't respond.

"You will receive your punishment, and through you, the earth will receive its own," the Other continued, beginning to unscrew the lid of the alabaster container.

A foul odor akin to rotting flesh assaulted Loki's nose and his heartbeat increased. He realised that he was jerking against his restraints and forced himself to stop. He would not give the Other that satisfaction.

Loki's mind raced as the Other took a pair of tweezers from the Chitauri warrior and reached into the container. It was clear what they would do to him now. They were going to release him after infecting him with the Valdkvikindi... it would grow and reproduce and the earth would be infected. If the Other thought that this was punishment to Loki, destroying the earth, than he didn't know him. What did Loki care about Earth and its inhabitants? They were tiny, insignificant.

But his mind instantly flashed to Pepper Potts. She did not deserve such a fate. And Banner- would the Hulk protect him?

The Other drew a small, orange worm-like creature from the container. Loki fought to keep his breath even as the Valdkvikindi was placed on his back. He could feel the creature's fire-hot body slide over his skin, seeking out entrance into his flesh. He gritted his teeth as it came to one of the still-healing whip marks on his back. The probing mouth burrowed under his skin. He felt it chew its way into his body.

There was nothing he could do. No hope for escape. Loki couldn't stop the grunt of pain as he felt the creature growing inside him as it fed on his tissue. If he could freeze it, that would slow its progress, but only slow it. Not kill it... But how could he even do that?

The Valdkvikindi reached his spine, and its hot body lay against his vertebrae. Fiery pain shot through him. He let out an involuntary yelp.

"Your magic will slow it's growth, no doubt. Heal you as it eats its way through your body. That will make it hurt worse, will it not?" The Other was looking down at him, laughing softly. "Where are your words now?"

Another flash of pain shot through Loki, and despite the strangled sound in his throat he did not scream

The Other leaned in close to Loki and whispered in his ear. "I wonder how long it will take for your brother to succumb when the plague reaches him."

Thor. Loki had no hope of getting the Valdkvikindi out on his own. Was it possible that Thor-?

The demigod stomped viciously on the hope that rose in his chest. Thor would not help him. The only thing he could expect from the Avengers was a quick death so that the creature could not finish its lifecycle and destroy their precious world.

"Clothe him and take him to the middle of the city, where these humans will be infected the quickest," the Other ordered the Chitauri.

The Chitauri did as the Other commanded, releasing Loki and hiding the bleeding marks on his back with a rough shirt. Loki could feel the Valdkvikindi growing around his spine. He concentrated his magic around it, slowing its progress. He fought against the pain that worsened with each passing moment. The Chitauri dragged him out of the room and into a human vessel with blacked out windows, and he made no resistance. There was no point.

The street was bustling with humans going on with their insignificant lives when the car stopped and the Chitauri pushed Loki into the crowd. People brushed past him, unaware that within him lay their doom. Their ignorance would not shield them in the end. Loki sunk to the cement, hopelessness weighing heavily on him. There was nothing to do but wait.

He looked up at the New York skyline and saw the top of Stark Tower. It was close. Loki stared at the building, and then painfully struggled to his feet. There was no hope but the hope of a quick death. He had no love for earth, but neither would its destruction profit him. Better spurn the Other whatever enjoyment that he would derive from this than to succumb to his enemy.

Better to die by Thor's hand than by the creature devouring his flesh.

#

Jarvis normally had an easy time watching over both Mr. Stark and the various houses/buildings that he was in charge of. He had been having some difficulty since Loki's magical attack, it was true, but only because he seemed to be messing up timeframes of past and present. He had the whole thing pretty much sorted out by now.

Still, when Loki came stumbling into Stark tower, Jarvis was certain that he had finally cracked. It was the pressure of being such an efficient virtual butler. If only Mr. Stark had allowed a little more leeway for error in his programming...

-Sir, Loki appears to have entered Stark tower- he said to Mr. Stark as aforementioned sir went buzzing around the hotel room, searching the residue energy for clues. At the same time, Jarvis addressed Loki -What are you doing here?-

"What do you mean, Loki's in the tower?" Mr. Stark demanded, at the same time Loki said. "Good to see you, too. Or rather, hear you."

Jarvis was distracted from answering either of them as Loki bent over in the elevator, grimacing in pain. He ran a quick scan, to make sure his visual sensors weren't deceiving him. Loki registered a dull orange on the heat sensors, but the area along his spine was white-hot. He was wearing clothes that were too big for him, and Jarvis read some signs in his physiology that it was due to the magical deaging process.

"Jarvis?" Mr. Stark said worriedly.

-I am still here, sir. Yes, Loki is most definitely at Stark tower. You had best return- he said to Mr. Stark, and then to Loki. -What is wrong with you?-

"No doubt you've recalled the Avengers?" Loki said, as Mr. Stark told his fellow Avengers what Jarvis had told him.

-Of course- Jarvis replied to Loki's statement with all the condescension that his programming allowed. -But why are you here? Come to try to kill me again?-

Loki laughed, but the sound was unconvincing. He stumbled out of the elevator. "I just missed my home here."

-Sir, you need to hurry. There is something wrong with him-

"What do you mean wrong?"

"You might want to tell the Avengers to hurry. I might just be trying to-"Loki sagged against the wall, crying out in pain. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. His face was white and Jarvis registered blood on his shirt. "I might be trying to blow up the building."

-You don't look like you're up to it.-

"Looks can be deceiving."

-Unless you have some sort of organic bomb, I see no way you can. My scans have shown no weaponry, explosive or otherwise-

Loki went to the room that had been his during his incarceration. Jarvis was aware that Mr. Stark was yelling at him, but he ignored his creator. He was too focused on Loki, who had gone into the washroom and turned on the shower, only the cold water. Loki stepped into the spray, crying out again as he did. Jarvis was entirely confused as to what he was supposed to do. Loki was an enemy, but at the same time he clearly needed help.

-What is wrong with you, sir?-

"Sir?" Loki looked up in surprise. "Did you call me 'sir'?"

-Yes.-

"Why?"

-Why not?-

Loki apparently didn't have a reply to that. Ice crystals were beginning to form in his hair, and there was a slight change in the hue of his skin. He bent over again in pain, and shook his head. "It's not working," he muttered, and lurched out of the shower.

-What isn't working?-

Loki didn't reply as he walked towards the kitchen, leaning on the walls for support. He went to the fridge and opened the freezer half, and began pulling the trays out and tossing them onto the floor. His breathing was coming in quick, restricted gasps. "Tell the Avengers to hurry, or their precious planet will be destroyed."

-Why is that?- Jarvis asked him, at the same time as telling Mr. Stark, -He is threatening to destroy the planet again.-

"We're almost there, hold on."

"Why do I need a reason?" Loki finished pulling the last of the trays from the freezer, leaving frozen foods scattered through the room. He crawled into the freezer, pressing his back against the cold inner wall. He cried out from pain again. His clothes were even baggier than before.

To Mr. Stark, -Hurry, sir- and to Loki, -They're almost here.-

Loki nodded. "Good. Send them up right away, will you? No use wasting time on pleasantries."

And with that, he shut the freezer door.

Chapter Text

Tony arrived at Stark tower shortly after Thor. Lightning flickered in the sky. As Tony landed and hurried after Thor, he saw that the black minivan holding the rest of the Avengers was pulling in behind them. Barton looked like he was ready to jump out of the vehicle before it stopped moving, and Tony couldn't say he blamed the assassin.

"Jarvis, where is he?" Thor bellowed, the anger in his voice enough to make Tony feel just a little sorry for Loki.

-In the guest kitchen, sir,- Jarvis replied promptly.

Thor rushed to the elevator, and Tony scooted in behind him. "I'm not going to have to defend Loki from you, am I?" he tried to joke.

Thor gave him a black look, and Tony decided that joking wasn't the best strategy at the moment.

The elevator started to close, but suddenly Romanoff's hand was between the doors. They slid back open and the rest of the Avengers joined Thor and Tony. It was a silent ride. Romanoff checked her gun. Barton twanged the string of his bow. Rogers looked like he was trying to figure out how to keep a lid on the mess, and Banner looked nervous. Tony would have liked to say something to lighten the mood but that was probably not a good idea. Thor hefted the hammer as though wanting to smash the elevator doors.

As the elevator opened and the Avengers rushed out, Tony heard the distinctive noise of a shower running. He frowned. "What, he broke into my house to take a shower?"

The others ignored him, following Thor into the kitchen. It was empty, except the frozen food and trays spread out over the floor in a mess. Tony's frowned deepened. Loki had broken into the tower to make a mess of the kitchen? Where was he? Nothing made sense.

"Loki!" Thor thundered, hammer in hand as he looked around the kitchen.

There was a slight noise from nearby. Tony's brows arched. "Is he in the freezer?"

Before he had even finished the question, Thor had ripped off the freezer door. Tony's cry of protest cut short when he saw that Loki was, in fact, inside of the freezer. There was a soft gasp from Banner behind him, and Tony understood why.

Loki had apparently gone into the freezer soaking wet. His clothes were coated with thick ice, as was his hair and skin. He wasn't much older than he had been when he had escaped, perhaps fourteen, and the frozen clothes were clearly too big for him now. It was his skin that made Tony stare. Loki had turned blue. His head was lolled to the side and for a moment Tony thought he was dead.

"Brother!" Thor cried, reaching in and pulling Loki out. As soon as his hand touched him, Loki's skin slowly became less blue and more pink-hued. The dark-haired demigod opened his eyes just in time for Tony to see the usual emerald of his eyes replace blood-red irises.

"Thor," Loki muttered, collapsing into Thor's arms.

Tony raised the faceplate of his armour and cautiously approached, wondering what scheme Loki had up his sleeve. "What were you doing in my freezer?"

Loki opened his mouth to speak but instead cried out in pain. He doubled over, leaning on Thor for support. Thor's face was worried. He gripped his brother around the waist and lowered him to the floor. The frozen remnants of blood spotted all the way down the back of Loki's shirt.

"Loki, what happened to you?" Thor demanded.

"Valdkvikindi," Loki muttered, managing somehow to sound petulant. He stared down at the floor, his chest heaving, clearly in terrible pain.

"Vald what?" Tony asked, stepping closer, but Thor didn't answer. A look of panic had come into the blond demigod's eyes and grabbing Loki's shirt he ripped in half.

The sight of Loki's back made Tony recoil. Vivid red welts crisscrossed Loki's pale skin, some still oozing blood. Down the length of his spine there was a pulsing thing. It looked like somebody had inserted a balloon just under his skin and was still blowing it up. Tony was fleetingly was glad that he had skipped breakfast.

"What is that?" Rogers asked, horror in his voice.

"There is no time to explain," Thor said hurriedly, snatching his brother up off the floor. Loki made no move to resist, hanging weakly in Thor's arms. "Banner, you must perform surgery."

"What?" Banner took a step back as everybody turned to look at him, except Thor, who was laying Loki face down on the counter. "I'm not that kind of a doctor!"

"Surgery in my kitchen?" Tony asked in disbelief.

"NOW!" Thor roared, making them all flinch.

Loki chuckled weakly. "You do need to explain, idiot."

Despite that Loki was still staring at the floor, Tony could see both pain and confusion in his face. The demigod ground his teeth together as he stiffened, a whimper of pain catching in his throat.

"The Valkvikindi is a parasite found in the space between worlds," Thor snapped, rushing over his own words. "If it reaches maturity, it will attach to his spine and then spread its spores throughout this world, using Loki as its host."

"How?" Banner asked, but Thor growled with frustrations.

"We do not have time for this. It must be taken out immediately."

"And then burned," Loki added, still not looking at any of them, especially not Thor. His fingers curled in the sleeve of Thor's shirt and he trembled.

"There's a barbeque lighter in the drawer over there," Tony said, feeling slightly numb, as he watched the bubble under Loki's skin expand.

Banner took a deep breath, closing his eyes. When he opened them again he looked calm and in charge.

"All right. Natasha, we need clean towels in here. Tony, we need some of your whiskey – I know you have a hidden stash, go get it. We can use it to sterilize the equipment. Barton, there's a first aid kit in the gym. Steve, I have a medical kit in my closet, under my collection of National Geographic magazines. I think I still have a scalpel in there. Go, people, we don't have a lot of time."

Tony hurriedly left, his stomach twisting in knots. In all the scenarios that he had thought up might happen when they finally caught up to Loki, this was not one of them.

#

Loki remained silent as the humans scattered for their preparations. He didn't look at any of them. He couldn't quite understand what was happening. Were they trying to save him? He couldn't dare hope that they were, and yet...

Banner approached and inspected his back. The doctor let out a soft whistle. "How do we get it out?"

"You cut me open and yank it out," Loki responded through gritted teeth as the burning pain spread down his arms.

"I don't know if I can do that," Banner said softly.

"Then kill me and end it."

"His magic will heal him," Thor said, ignoring Loki.

I don't have that much magic left, Loki thought, but didn't say it out loud.

"All right," Banner said, still sounding uncertain. "We need to get something for the pain. Maybe morphine or-"

"No," Loki said through clenched teeth.

"What?"

Even had there been time to explain, Loki would not have. "There isn't time to wait for you to get your human drugs."

"Then Tylenol- anything-"

"No," Loki repeated.

"I-" Banner shook his head. "I can't-"

"Banner-" Thor started.

"It's bad enough that I'm doing this without any idea what I'm actually doing. But without some sort of painkiller, I'm just going to make it worse," Banner interrupted.

Loki managed to turn a cry of pain into a strangled laugh. "Doctor, this thing will attach itself to my spinal column and take control of my body, keeping me alive so that it can infect the human population with its offspring and do the same to them-"

"How does that work?" Banner interupted, his voice edging towards frusteration.

"The host wounds their victim and then sends its offspring into their bodies and-" Pain surged through him and gritting his teeth he spat out the rest. "There is no possible way your actions could make this worse."

The other humans were joining them, and Loki fell silent again. They worked quickly, preparing for the surgery. Thor remained close to Loki, being entirely useless. Loki was glad that he did. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but he had never been so scared before in his life. And he hated that, almost as much as he hated taking comfort in Thor's presence.

Barton set down the first aid kit and opened it. Banner was sterilizing a scalpel from the bag Rogers had brought with Stark's whiskey. He gave orders quickly, and the others quickly obeyed them. Stark had removed his helmet and the arms of his armour to give himself more manoeuvrability.

"You need to hold me down," Loki said to Thor, his voice quieter than it had been before. He shuddered violently as another strike of pain went through him. Clenching his teeth, he tried not to scream.

Thor grabbed hold of Loki's shoulders until the spasm had past. "Friends, I will need your help," he said to Barton and Rogers.

Loki grimaced at the idea of being held down by Barton, of all people, but as another flash of hot pain seared him, he decided that he wouldn't object.

"Wait, we're going to do this while he's conscious?" Stark asked, and there was a trace of panic in his voice.

Loki rolled his eyes, but let Thor bark at the Iron Man that there was no time for anything else. Loki's heart raced as Thor tucked his arms underneath him and pressed him back down on the countertop, wrapping thick arms around his shoulders; Barton hesitated a moment before leaning over his legs, and Rogers, standing opposite to Banner, helped stabilize his midsection. Loki breathed deeply, trying not to listen to what was going on around him.

"Thor," Loki said suddenly, turning his head to stare at his once-brother. "If it doesn't work, if you can't get it out, will you give them a message for me?"

Thor had no need to ask who "they" were. He nodded, blinking at the tears in his eyes.

Sentiment, Loki thought, and he was surprised to feel affection rather than derision. "Tell Odin that I am not sorry for what I have done. I wanted a life for myself that was not the lie he created. And tell Mother-" here Loki's voice broke, and he sounded like a child in pain. "Tell her that I am sorry... for hurting her."

Thor searched Loki's eyes, but Loki didn't know what he was looking for. After a moment, Thor nodded again, but didn't say anything.

Loki inhaled deeply, trying to school himself into a place where the pain would not reach him. He felt every muscle in his body tremble with anxiety.

"You're going to need to secure his head," Banner said, his voice even and calm. Loki hoped that meant the Hulk was going to stay away. He had no magic to spare to heal from getting embedded in the floor again.

No, he thought, I don't have to worry about Banner.

"I've got it," Romanoff said gently as Thor began manoeuvring to fasten Loki's head to the counter as well.

Loki sighed. He had hoped that Thor would think of this, and he wouldn't have to ask, but it seemed that the god of thunder hadn't. Not surprising, really.

"Agent Romanoff," Loki began, and for the most part he managed to keep both the pain and fear from his voice, "would you be so kind as to cover my mouth as well? I wouldn't want the good doctor to startle when I scream."

"So I'm the "good doctor" instead of the "mindless beast" now, am I?" Banner murmured, but his voice was calm.

Romanoff gestured to Banner to wait, and then quickly stepped to the drawers to pull out a dishcloth, which she brought back to the counter. "So you don't bite your tongue in half."

Of course. Loki opened his mouth, and Romanoff stuffed the cloth into his mouth. He clenched the fabric between his teeth, and then Romanoff pressed her hand against his mouth so that he couldn't spit it out once the pain began. The crook of her elbow dug – a little harder than necessary – into his neck and her arms fastened his head securely. He glanced up at her out of the corner of his eye and wasn't surprised to see that she was completely devoid of emotion. She would probably enjoy this, as much as Barton.

"Right, everybody ready?" Banner asked, and soon Loki felt cold liquid spread across his back. The coldness against his burning skin hurt so much that he flinched, and instantly the three men securing him tightened their grips on him.

The alcohol, to sterilize the skin, Loki's rational mind told him as the welts across his back made from the whip began to sting, and he closed his eyes to ready himself for the pain.

The sensation of the knife carving into his skin did not hurt as much as he expected it to. But the Valdkvikindi's reaction to the intrusion was worse. Every nerve ending in his body blazed to fire. Loki's eyes snapped open, and his scream was muffled only by the cloth in his mouth. He felt the blade falter and retreat, and with it the pain.

"My friend, please," Thor's voice was hoarse, "you need to continue."

Loki's bright green eyes locked on Thor's blue ones. He could see regret and distress in the older demigod's face. Then the pain returned and all he could see was the blue of Thor's eyes. Loki's fingers dug into Thor's arm, fighting against his own body. Fire burned through him. Sweat slicked his skin and tears ran from his eyes. White flashes danced in front of his vision.

You think you know pain?

Is this it? Loki thought as the fires raged in his body and his mind spiraled out of his control. Is this how I am to die?

"Loki? Loki! Listen to me."

A voice entered Loki's pain-ridden mind, and he saw Romanoff leaning in close to him, her expression still neutral and yet her voice was soft. Banner kept cutting, and the pain built. Loki fought to keep himself from giving into the pain, but he felt himself strain to be free of the men holding him down.

"Listen, I'm going to cover your nose as well, just long enough for you to pass out. You won't struggle as much and there will be less chance that you'll hurt yourself."

Loki's blood pulsed in his ears. He hardly felt the sensation of Romanoff's hand moving up and covering both his mouth and nose, blocking off his air supply. His body didn't register it through the pain at first. Black spots swam among the white flashes. Loki's body struggled to breathe, and his lungs cried out for oxygen. The pain redoubled.

And suddenly he wished that Romanoff was lying. He wished that she wouldn't take her hand away until his body stopped screaming for air. Until his limbs stopped twitching. He wished that he would never have to look upon his life again.

At least Mother will know that I never meant to hurt her... he thought as the black engulfed the white. Mother...

He will make you long for something as sweet as pain...

Chapter Text

Clint pinned down Loki's bucking legs, holding him firmly in place as Natasha smothered him. Slowly, the bucking lessened, and Clint saw her remove her hand from the demigod's nose. He wished that she wouldn't, but then again judging by the look on Thor's face she was taking a risk just putting Loki under in such a manner. Clint glanced at the rest of his colleagues. Rogers' face was stoic, the face of a soldier. Banner looked to be by far the most calm in the room. Beside him Stark, with sterilized gauze from the first aid kit in his gloved hands ready to mop up after the scalpel, looked a little sick.

"What is that?" the billionaire muttered as orange-green pus began seeping out of Loki's back down the line where Banner had cut him open.

Nobody replied, mainly because nobody knew except Thor, and Clint guessed that he didn't want to speak for fear of choking on a sob. Why did the man care so much? Loki had tried to kill him multiple times... Setting aside the fact that Loki deserved it, letting him die would be the smart thing to do.

As if hearing his thoughts, Natasha looked over at Clint and raised her eyebrow, as if to say, They were brothers for hundreds of years.

Clint managed a small smile at her, which she didn't return. Her face was stony, the look she got when something truly was bothering her. Other than that, Clint wasn't sure how to read her.

Clint turned his gaze back to the surgery. The orange-green pus was literally sizzling out of Loki's skin now, snapping in small, gooey bubbles. Pinpricks of the pus splattered against Banner's glasses. Banner didn't seem to notice; his gaze was focused and his hand was steady with the knife. The man really was a master of stress.

After cutting down the length of Loki's spine, Banner cut two horizontal lines on either side of the incision, forming a bubbling, oozing I on Loki's back. Then, moving carefully and methodically, he peeled back the skin on either side. A mass of the pus seemed to explode into the air, hitting everybody. Clint managed to turn his head, but when he looked back he saw that Rogers had gotten a face full of the stuff.

"What did you say about spores?" Natasha asked Thor.

"This is merely the creature's excrement," he replied thickly.

"Lovely."

"Tony," Banner said. Stark stepped forward, looking uncertain, but used the gauze to mop up the sizzling mass of pus still burbling out of Loki's back. His hands shook.

"Could you clean my face, too?" Rogers asked, and grabbing a towel Stark did just that.

The pus still oozed out of Loki, mingled now with vivid streaks of blood. Banner continued to work, finishing peeling back the flaps of skin on either side of the incision. Clint looked on, narrowing his eyes. There seemed to be a giant orange worm attached to Loki's spine. Clint felt his heart leap to his throat for a split second. Not just attached. Wrapped around Loki's spine.

Banner muttered something that Clint was sure he hadn't wanted anyone else to hear. Though still unconscious, Loki jerked under the men holding him down and cried out so that Natasha had to stuff the cloth back in his mouth and hold it there. With her free hand, she stroked his hair, whispering soothingly. She glanced at Clint once more and they shared a silent conversation.

Are you comforting him?

No. I'm trying to keep him from thrashing around so that Banner doesn't accidently kill him and Thor doesn't smite us all.

All right then. No smiting sounds good.

"I don't know if I can do this, Thor. This thing is wrapped around his spine pretty good," Banner said, looking worried as he gestured for Stark to step in again and do another mop-up.

Thor adjusted his position so that he, too, could take a good look at Loki's spine. He cursed in a language that Clint didn't know. "It is nearly ready to attach. You must not break its skin. If you do, its spores will take hold in Loki's flesh and grow. There will be too many to remove by hand."

Banner looked uncertain. "Thor-"

"Please. He is my brother."

"I could kill him, or paralyse him-"

"Please."

Thor's blue eyes were huge with distress, staring pleadingly at Banner. His face was covered with sweat that mingled with a few tears. Clint looked away. Rogers murmured something, and then Banner sighed.

Clint held Loki tighter, knowing that what they had already faced would be nothing compared to what was about to happen. And seconds later when Loki's frame began to buck and shake, and the screams of pain couldn't be muffled, Clint was proved right.

#

Bruce had seen a lot of strange things. He had been in bad situations. He'd learned to deal with it. But nothing, nothing, he had ever faced would have made him think that one day he would be performing surgery on a demigod to remove some sort of alien parasite that was wrapped around his spinal column and emitting a foul-smelling excremental ooze.

He wasn't a surgeon. Sure, he was a doctor and had spent plenty of time abroad helping sick and injured patients, but he was first and foremost a scientist. And now he was doing spinal surgery! Add to it that the patient was only unconscious because he had been smothered and that only two years ago had been trying to take over the world...

Bruce looked down at the mess of blood and pus that covered his gloves. The Valdkvikindi was the length of Loki's spine, coiled around it like a vine. The creature pulsed gently. Bruce wasn't a surgeon, but he knew that this was crazy. More than that, it was stupid to try to extract this thing when he had no idea what he was doing.

"You okay?" Steve asked.

There really was nothing Bruce could answer. He sighed, and then reached in to the lumbar section, where the creature seemed to be less tightly wound. Steeling himself, he used his left hand to pull gently at the first loop, while his right worked at pushing the tail (at least, he thought it was a tail) under the spinal column.

He had been expecting the worse, but as Loki screamed the men pinning him were able to keep him still. Natasha wrapped both her arms around his head, her hand pressed firmly across his mouth.

Bruce didn't glance up. He didn't want or need to see if the pain had made Loki regain consciousness. He worked gingerly, getting the first loop free from the spinal column. The rest of the creature seemed to wind tighter, making a strange, sickening sloshing sound.

"Banner, the creature will kill him if you do not hurry."

Bruce didn't spare time to respond to Thor's panicked statement. He latched hold of the second loop, pushing the Valdkvikindi's tail underneath Loki's spine as though he was untangling two threads. He tried not to think of what damage he was causing. Even if Loki survived, what would the lasting effects be?

No more taking over the world, his mind said, but he shoved the thought away. He was a doctor. This was his job, helping people. Even people who didn't deserve it. After all, hadn't he thought himself that he wasn't worth helping, and yet he always had someone. Betty hadn't given up on him, and with her help he had been able to help himself, learn how to control his anger. Prevent the other guy from breaking things and people.

Different story, his mind tried to tell him, but Loki screamed again and the Valdkvikindi wound tighter and Bruce spared no thought for anything except the work. Unravel. Ease the creature back through the hole it had eaten in Loki's flesh. Repeat.

"Tony, I need you to get your hands in here," Bruce said, and he heard the layer of stress in his own voice. He had to raise his voice over Loki's muffled screams.

He wasn't certain for a moment if Tony was going to respond, but then the billionaire stepped in. His face was slightly green, but his gaze was fixed and his mouth set in a grim line.

"What do you need?"

"Try to get a grip on that middle loop, keep it from getting tighter. And take the tail, I'm starting on the other end.

Tony hesitated a moment, and then reached in. As he worked his fingers between the creature's body and Loki's spine, the grim mouth wavered.

"You're doing fine," Bruce encouraged him, working free another loop before handing the creature's body to Tony's free hand.

Tony made a soft noise in the back of his throat.

"Doctor he's getting hard to hold," Steve warned as Loki's shudders grew more violent.

Time to reply later. First loop out. Try not to see how badly he's bleeding. The Valdkvikindi pulsed quicker, contracting towards the area of its body still attached to bone. The tail began wrapping around Tony's arm, squeezing tightly. He made another noise, looking like he was going to be sick. Bruce could hear his own heartbeat pound in his ears, and he fed off the stress to move quicker. Second loop out. One more.

Bruce started easing the creature through the final hole. Loki's whole body shuddered and Bruce felt resistance in the final seconds before he pulled the Valdkvikindi completely away. Tony pulled back abruptly, ripping his hand away. Bruce held the Valdkvikindi as it waved weakly, exuding even more of its orange-green pus. He threw it in the nearby bucket, and Tony quickly poured half a bottle of whiskey over top of it. Bruce leaned in over Loki, searching in amongst the blood and pus, heartbeat quickening. He was only distantly aware that Tony had lit the whiskey in the bucket and the flames were dancing.

"That was-" Tony started, but the look on Bruce's face cut him off. "What?"

"That last jerk- it broke the skin."

"But Thor said spores-"

Natasha cut off Tony. "Can we wash it out?"

But Thor had already reacted. He released his brother and snatched the bottle of whiskey and the lighter from Tony's hands. Bruce could already see multiple tendrils of orange beginning to wrap around Loki's vertebrae again. Thor pushed Steve, Clint and Natasha away from Loki and snatched him up off the counter. The dishcloth fell from Loki's mouth.

"Thor, wait!" Bruce cried in protest, but the demigod didn't listen. Bruce cursed under his breath and ran after him, followed closely by Steve and the assassins.

Thor rushed to the nearest bathroom, where he set Loki down on the floor and turned on the shower. He moved like a thunderstorm, throwing every towel under the water. Loki's blood dribbled down onto the floor.

"What are you doing?" Steve demanded.

Thor didn't reply, and none of the humans dared to try to stop him.

"What do you need?" Natasha asked.

"Spread the wet towels over him. Quickly."

Natasha stepped over Loki's prone, bleeding frame and did as Thor said. Her face was pale against her red hair, but her movements didn't falter. Bruce didn't know what to do. The tendrils were growing rapidly in Loki's flesh.

Thor untopped the whiskey bottle and generously poured the contents down Loki's open spine. Bruce suddenly understood what he was doing.

"Thor! That will kill him!"

"They have to be burned out. It's the only way," Thor replied, his voice taut and pained. "Forgive me, brother."

"Burned-?" Natasha started, slapping the last soaking towel over Loki's legs.

Thor didn't respond, but Clint stepped in and pulled her away. Bruce looked at his fellow humans and they returned the look, none of them knowing what to do. Thor threw the whiskey bottle into the shower behind him. His fingers fumbled with the lighter for a moment, and then the flame lit. He lowered it to the alcohol in his brother's back.

Chapter Text

Thor thought that Loki's screams would take a life of their own and rip out his heart. The flames singed Thor's skin and hair as he tried to hold his brother, his fingers jammed into Loki's mouth to prevent him from biting his tongue or swallowing it. Tears rolled down the god of thunder's cheeks. It is the only way, Loki's only hope, he told himself desperately. His only hope.

He didn't know how long he let Loki burn. When the screams and the smell of cooking flesh became too much, he smothered the flames with one of the wet towels. Loki's screams died, but his breath came in sharp, constricted breaths.

Thor looked at the burned flesh and exposed bone of his brother's spine, and his chest hurt with fear and regret. But the bodies of the growing Valdkvikindi had burned away entirely, leaving no trace behind. He had saved his brother from that fate. But had he killed him to do it?

The Captain was the first of his friends to speak. "How could he survive that?" he asked, his voice low and horrified.

Thor uncovered Loki's face. He cringed. Loki's skin was deathly pale and slick with sweat. He shivered violently, his eyes half-open but only the whites showed. A line of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Thor lay his hand on his brother's forehead; it was cold, clammy.

"Thor, there's nothing more we can do," Banner said, kneeling opposite him. He surveyed the damage, cringing at the sight and smell. "Clint, please go back to the kitchen and get the first aid kit. I can try to sew him up..."

Banner trailed off, followed by silence. Thor stared down at the damage he had caused his brother, not even noticing that Barton had automatically obeyed the doctor.

"It was the only way..." he started, and stopped when he heard his own broken voice. He cradled Loki's head in his massive hands. He wanted to sob, but the warrior in him forbade it.

Loki made a small noise. Thor's hopes leapt.

"Loki?"

Loki's eyelids flickered. His lips moved, but the sound that came out of them was indecipherable. Thor leaned over him. "Loki?"

"Mmm..." Loki murmured. "Mmm..."

Thor understood. Magic. His breathing shallow, the god of thunder placed one hand on Loki's charred spine. He had never been one for magic. He didn't have the patience. But magic was something that every Asgardian was born with. Thor closed his eyes and summoned every last drop that he could feel pulsing in his veins. He pushed it out into Loki's body. His hand tingled at first, but soon it was burning. He gritted his teeth against the pain.

Opening his eyes, Thor saw that his hand glowed gold with the magic, and it seeped up and down Loki's spine. As he watched, the crisp edges of flesh regenerated, growing soft tissue. The bones changed from the red-black of burnt blood to white. Loki gave a shuddering gasp as the muscle closed over his spine. Thor felt the last of the magic drain from his own body, and then the gold glow that surrounded his hand and Loki's body faded.

"What was that?" Steve asked, stepping closer to Banner to see better.

"I gave him my magic," Thor mumbled. "All of it."

Barton returned with the box of supplies that Banner had prepared. He put it down silently. Banner thanked him. He stripped off the gloves he had worn for the surgery and threw them away. He then ripped open a sterilizing wipe and cleaned his hands before putting on a new pair of the rubber gloves. Thor sat back, exhausted, still cradling Loki's head.

Loki's magic had kept him alive through the ordeal, but it had taken a toll on him. Thor looked in alarm at how quickly Loki had lost his years; while before the surgery he looked to be fourteen, now he could be no more than twelve. He cursed himself for not asking the details of Odin's spell. If he had known the consequences, if Loki had known, perhaps all of this could have been prevented.

"There's still a lot of damage," Banner said, carefully sterilizing a needle which he then threaded. "I don't know, Thor. Even with magic, I can't promise that he'll make it."

Thor's heart sank, hearing the truth of Banner's words. Gently he stroked Loki's hair back from his clammy forehead. Banner leaned over Loki, bringing the flaps of skin back to the center and beginning to stitch the I together.

"I know. Thank you for doing what you could. Thank you all."

He looked up to catch the gaze of the Captain, who nodded once in recognition. Thor's gaze then turned to Romanoff and Barton, both of whom were gazing impassively at the scene. They returned his gaze and he gave a special nod of thanks to Barton. The warrior turned away.

"Clint and I will clean up the mess in the kitchen. And we'll see if Tony's puking out his guts somewhere. He didn't look too good," Romanoff said, as always calm and emotionless.

"Thanks," Rodger said over his shoulder, and then knelt down beside Banner as the two warriors left. He was silent for a moment. "I saw a lot of things in the war," he started softly, "but nothing like that."

"Thor, you need to clean up your hands. You're bleeding," Banner said.

Thor nodded once, but didn't move. Loki shivered. Thor knew that his magic would still be working to heal the wound, and that it would yet take a toll on his brother's physical form. But how far would it go? Would the magic itself end up killing him by taking him to too young an age? Thor didn't know, and he wouldn't know until Loki either healed or died. He had no way of contacting Asgard.

But Heimdall surely had been watching. Odin would send aid.

Banner worked quickly, sewing Loki's skin back together with quick, practiced stitches.

"We need some place to put him," Thor said, keeping his mind off both what he had been forced to do and what may yet happen.

"We need to be careful with his spine. I'm not sure what position is going to be safe to put him in... Steve, can you go look up spinal surgery on my laptop? This is different, but I think that we can still use the same..." Banner trailed off.

"Of course," Rogers replied, quickly getting to his feet. "And Thor?" Thor looked up at the captain, whose face was sympathetic but hardened as only a soldier's could be. "You did what you have to."

Thor looked back down to his brother. He was rapidly losing his age, becoming smaller and smaller. Don't give up, he wanted to say. Don't give up. You can return. We can be a family once again, brother. All you have to do is come back.

But he couldn't speak.

Banner tied the last stitch, washed his hands again, and ripped open sealed packers of sterilized gauze and began to bandage Loki's back.

"He didn't shrink like this before. Why is it happening so quickly?"

Thor shook his head. "I do not know. Perhaps it is the sheer amount of magic Loki used to stay alive."

"I have no idea what I'm doing, Thor," Banner admitted as he struggled to keep the bandages on Loki's shrinking body. "I need help. I know you don't know of any way to contact Asgard directly, but-"

"Heimdall will have certainly seen this," Thor said with conviction. "My father will send aid. He will send aid."

#

Natasha threw a pus-soaked towel into a bag that was destined for the incinerator. She worked silently, wiping down the countertop first with soapy water, and then with bleach. The smell made her wrinkle her nose. Clint was working silently as well. Too silent, Natasha thought. She glanced up and watched as he wiped down the floor where Loki's blood had dripped as Thor had run from the room.

"I'm fine," he said without looking up.

"I didn't say you weren't."

"You were thinking it." Clint stopped in his work and looked up at her. "Stark's the one who you should be concerned about. The man's never seen anything close to that."

Almost anyone else would have made a sarcastic "And you have?" comeback, but Natasha knew better. They didn't talk much about what they did, what either of them had done before joining S.H.I.E.L.D., but she had seen things – done things – that made Loki's surgery look positively humane. She knew that Clint had as well. At least this time they were trying to save a life, even if it was Loki.

"He was a real mess, wasn't he?" Natasha asked lightly. "Still is."

"Well, you heard Banner. He still might not make it. I guess even a god can die if you light his spine on fire. And even if he does make it, will he be able to walk? Can magic heal that traumatic an injury?" Clint shook his head. "With my luck, it probably can."

Natasha bent over her work again. "I'd hate to be him."

"He deserves it," he said flatly.

"Does anybody really deserve that?"

"After all the people he killed? Yeah."

Natasha's shoulders sagged, but knew that she couldn't expect Clint to feel any differently. Coulson had been the first person Clint had ever felt cared about him since his little sister's death. The main thing that Natasha focused on was that Clint was talking to her, and she wasn't going to jeopardize that. "Maybe he does. That may be part of the reason why I'd hate to be him."

Clint glanced up at her, and she returned the gaze. "I thought that it would be different, Tasha. Hearing him scream like that," Clint confessed softly. "But Thor... He looked so helpless."

"I guess I didn't notice."

Clint turned away again.

Natasha turned back to cleaning. The orange-green pus was more adhesive than she had thought. Even with the bleach she had to scrub hard to get the stuff off the countertop. She had a sneaky feeling that the room was going to get a redecoration in the near future, however, and wasn't too terribly worried about it. Besides, she had seen worse.

"What I want to know is how he got a Valdkvikindi, whatever that is, in him in the first place," Clint said suddenly. "What's a deep-space parasite doing on earth?"

"I was wondering the same thing," Natasha replied. "I'm guessing it wasn't Hydra that took him."

"Then who?"

"I don't know. He came here for help. Well, either help or a quick death. I couldn't quite tell."

Clint switched to a clean towel. "It could be a trick."

Natasha nodded in acknowledgment. "It could be."

"You don't think it is."

"No, I don't. He was really scared, Clint."

"Good."

Natasha remained silent for a moment. "He wanted me to kill him. I could see it in his eyes."

Clint stopped working for a moment. "I'm not surprised." He looked at her. "What's wrong?"

"He said when," Natasha answered. "Not if. He asked to me cover his mouth for when he screamed."

"I heard. He knew it would hurt."

Natasha nodded. "And that's what's bothering me. He didn't expect to survive. But he decided to come here, anyway, rather than infect the earth. So whoever did this to him, he hates them more than he hates us." Natasha sighed and bent over her work again. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see if he survives, and then ask him."

"You think he'll tell us?"

Natasha worked in silence, mulling over the question. Pride was the only thing that would stop Loki from telling them what had happened to him. But after this, how much was pride worth when they would be the only thing preventing this from happening again? Eventually she nodded. "Yes. I do."

"Well," Clint said, attempting a lighter tone. "There is one thing for certain now."

"What's that?"

"I won't be getting an excuse to kill him any time soon."

Chapter Text

"Pep, it was awful," Tony moaned, slumped over in the chair, not looking at the computer screen where he was sure Pepper's face would be horrified. He hadn't gone into detail about the surgery, but even the bare bones- Tony winced, recalling the sight of Loki's exposed spine. Even the general happenings were sickening.

"I'll take the next plane back right away."

Tony shook his head. He was still wearing his armour, but his arms were raw with the scrubbing he had done, trying to get rid of the feel of the pus on his skin. It hadn't worked. "Not yet. We don't know if he'll survive, and I don't want you to be around here if he dies."

He looked up and saw that Pepper's face was halfway between sadness and worry. "Tony, I can handle it."

"I know you can. I'm just worried about what Thor will do."

Pepper's brows knitted. "Thor won't hurt me."

"Not on purpose, but he might not think clearly if his brother dies. He could, I don't know, whip up an electrical grief storm or something. I'd just be more comfortable if you stayed in DC. Actually, I might just come stay with you."

"Don't the others need you?"

"Nope. They can get along just fine." Tony tried for a cavalier grin, but it didn't work. "I need to be with you, Pepper. I need to be somewhere that isn't here."

"Tony," Pepper said softly, reaching forward to touch the computer screen. "I love you."

Tony managed a smile. She always knew what to say, even if it was just the simplest statements. "I love you, too."

#

Bruce getting to the point that he wanted to hurl his laptop against the far wall. Not that he had been expecting to find anything on the internet to help out with their current situation, but his overwhelming sense of helplessness was really grating on his nerves. Maybe if he could get in touch with medical doctors... and then explain what was happening without revealing any of the important details...

"Bruce?" Bruce looked up as Romanoff came to sit beside him. He smiled tiredly in greeting. She studied him carefully. "How are you doing?"

Bruce shrugged. "Frustrated."

Romanoff nodded in understanding. "Could I borrow a few of your National Geographics?"

Bruce raised his eyebrows, but shrugged. It didn't really matter why. "Sure."

"Thanks." Romanoff studied him. "When was the last time you slept?"

"I had a nap just an hour ago."

Romanoff raised her eyebrow. "I asked when you slept, not when you napped."

"Not since the surgery."

Romanoff nodded. "Nobody has." She contemplated the laptop for a moment. "Have you found anything to help?"

"No."

"And you've got Jarvis running his own searches?"

Bruce nodded.

Romanoff patted his shoulder. "Then there's not a lot you can do, is there? You should have a rest. You need to be at your best if something happens. And I don't just mean with Loki. Somebody put that thing in him, and for all we know they could try it again. We need to be ready in case the tower is attacked."

"You think that's going to happen?"

Romanoff shrugged. "It's a possibility."

"All right." Bruce wearily stood. "Jarvis, make sure to get me up if anything happens, okay?"

-Of course, sir.-

Romanoff patted his shoulder again. "Good-night, doctor."

#

It was a strange feeling to Steve to see Loki as tiny as he was. The demigod had shrunk down to about two years old before he had stopped. From Banner's research online, they had decided to keep Loki on his side, with pillows propped around him. Stark had bought a hospital bed to keep him in.

It was soon clear, however, that they would need to take additional measures. Loki thrashed around in his sleep so much that he had torn his stitches out multiple times. They had had to strap him into place. Banner didn't want to try to put clothes on him while he was still so badly injured, and so they turned up the heat in the room and covered him with blankets.

Steve stood in the doorway, struggling against the horror that still balled in the pit of his stomach since Thor had burned the Valdkvikindi out of Loki. The blond demigod sat in a chair beside the table, slouched backwards as if he didn't have the strength to sit up straight.

Steve walked over to him. "Any improvements?"

Loki cried out in his sleep, jerking against the restraints. Thor tried to hold him still.

"It's all right, Loki, it's all right," he murmured, and Loki stilled. Thor kept one of his massive hands on Loki's shoulder. "There have been no improvements, Captain Rogers. Dr. Banner has said we may need an IV for hydration or something like that. To be truthful, I was not listening. He is concerned that Loki hasn't regained consciousness yet. I know the elders of my people must often sleep for long periods of times to regenerate their aging bodies, but this..."

Steve put his hand on Thor's shoulder as a silent support. "Do you have any idea how this happened?"

"A Valdkvikindi should not have been able to find its way onto earth. Someone brought it here. Someone went through a great deal of trouble to find Loki and infect him." Thor's voice shook with anger, and Loki stirred again.

"Any theories who?"

"Many."

Steve sighed, and pulled up a chair. "Stark's heading off to DC for a while. He says it's to check on Miss Potts, but after this, I think he just needs a break." The Captain hesitated a moment. "I just got off the phone with Fury."

"I will not allow-" Thor started, thunder in his voice, but stopped when Steve held up his hand.

"Let me finish. I explained the situation to him, and told him that we have everything under control. He wants us to keep him up to date on everything that's happening, but he agreed that we should remain in charge of the situation. He's not going to intervene." Steve replied, not adding that Fury had also said that he wasn't going to send any medical personal to help – Loki wasn't worth the time or resources.

It seemed that he didn't need to add it. Thor snorted humourlessly. "But neither will he send any aid."

Steve reluctantly nodded. "There probably isn't much that they could do, anyway."

"Probably not," Thor agreed, but he still looked angry.

"Look, Thor-"

"It's all right, captain. Our own people want him dead, I cannot expect any different from the people of this realm, who have never known him as anything but an enemy." Thor's voice and expression did not match the words he had just spoken.

Steve struggled to find the right words. "I know how hard this is for you- Forget that, I have no idea how hard this is for you. I'm one of those people who have only ever seen him as an enemy."

Steve fell silent, looking at the small child's body that held Loki's mind. He was twitching again, as if he was fighting an invisible force. His breathing was getting quicker. Thor cradled his brother's head with his hand and the twitching lessened. Steve wondered how much Loki was aware of what was going on around him.

"It is at times like this when I wish the earth-brewed ale had an effect on Asgardian physiology," Thor murmured after a moment. "I hate seeing him like this."

"I get what you mean." Steve nodded. "I can't get drunk either. I've wanted to. Many times. It, uh, it hurts. Memories, they hurt."

"Indeed they do."

"For what it's worth," Steve continued awkwardly. "I hope that you and Romanoff are right about him. I'm not sure redemption is possible and even then forgiveness is something entirely different, but if it is... I mean, if there's hope for Loki, then there's hope for us all." He winced at how that sounded. "Sorry, I didn't mean-"

"It is fine, my friend," Thor interrupted. "I know what you mean. Whether willfully or by neglect, we are all guilty of something."

Steve nodded, relieved that Thor had understood what he had been trying to say. He stood, and looked once more at Loki before shaking his head. "Thor, if you need anything, just let us know. We're here for you."

"Thank you," Thor responded, but his voice was listless. "I do not require anything at this time."

Steve nodded, and left.

#

"Clint, can we talk?"

"Not now, Tasha. I'm exhausted."

"Tomorrow, then?"

"Sure."

Clint closed the door to his room and walked over to his desk, where he opened his laptop and waited for it to load. He hadn't lied. His limbs were heavy with exhaustion, but the knowledge that nightmares would plague him kept him from going to bed. Also, he wasn't convinced that Loki was as helpless as he appeared to be at the moment.

Rubbing his eyes to banish the tiredness in them, Clint opened a program on his computer and typed in his password. Within moments, the feed from the pinhole camera he had planted in Loki's room flickered onto the screen. Thor and Banner were both in the room, hovering over Loki as Banner changed the bandages and cleaned the incision.

Loki jerked suddenly, crying out from pain. Clint leaned back in his chair, watching as Thor instantly tried to sooth his brother. The assassin rubbed his eyes again.

Loki grabbed his arm and painfully twisted it, directing the gun away from himself. Clint grimaced with the pain, but stood defiant. Loki stared at him impassively with bright blue eyes. "Do you have a heart?" he murmured, and the sharp point of the scepter touched him, just above his heart. He felt the blue energy seep into him, cold and painful. He had less than a minute to fight, less than a minute to fear what was happening. He felt his will getting pushed aside, replaced by something hateful and angry and desolately alone.

"I could have done it, father!" Loki suddenly shouted, fighting against his restraints. Thor tried to hold him still. Clint jerked himself out of his memory, focusing on the screen. "I could have done it! For you!" And then so quietly Clint could hardly hear it. "For all of us."

"Loki, hold on," Thor said to his thrashing brother, his voice heavy with emotion. "Don't let go. Not this time."

"Thor?" Banner asked, but the demigod gave no explanation.

Clint closed the lid of the laptop. After a moment, he walked to the nightstand beside his bed and pulled out the sleeping pills that had been prescribed to him by the shrink that Rogers forced him to go see. He hadn't taken any yet, but with the memories pressing against his mind, he dumped out one pill and swallowed it before lying on top of the blankets, wondering what new nightmares would play for him that night.

It didn't take them long to start.

Clint looked down at Natasha's bleeding face. She looked back, her eyes pleading, but didn't speak. She struggled to her feet and he pushed her down again. She had no strength left. Clint tilted his head as he contemplated her and wiped her blood from his hands onto his shirt.

"I suppose I should feel something. Remorse, maybe pity. But I don't feel anything," he murmured. "I am getting bored, though."

He reached down and pulled her up so that she was sitting and drew a knife from his belt.

"Clint," she whispered, speaking for the first time. Her eyes searched his and seeing no mercy she nodded once, accepting her fate.

Clint held the blade to her throat and she closed her eyes, a single tear running down her cheek. The sight seemed to jog something inside of him, and he hesitated.

"What are you waiting for, Barton? You're a killer, why should she be any different?"

Clint heard the voice and turned slightly to see Loki standing a few feet away, malice bright in his eyes, his armour dark and heavy, a cruel smile twisting his lips, the scepter in his hands. "You know that you can do it. Kill her, given the right incentive. You tried to do it before, remember? You longed to see the life slip from her eyes."

"That wasn't me. That was you," Clint hissed under his breath. Natasha had opened her eyes and was staring at Loki.

"Was it?" the demigod asked, pacing silently to stand right behind the archer. "I didn't give you skills that you didn't already have. I didn't give you determination you didn't already have. Selvig didn't kill anybody, because Selvig isn't a killer. But you are. There is a part of you that wants to kill, Barton, and all I did was free it."

"Clint, don't listen to him," Natasha whispered.

"All I tell you is the truth," Loki said, crouching down to be eyelevel with the two humans. "You know that I'm right, Clint. You know that you kill everyone that you love."

Clint shook his head, but pressed the knife harder to Natasha's throat. "No."

Loki laughed. "I think they would say different."

Clint looked up sharply to see Cindy standing just behind Loki. Beside her, holding her hand, stood Coulson. Both were pale and glared at him through dead eyes.

"No. No. I didn't do it."

"You failed to protect them," Loki mocked. "How is that any different from murder?"

"You let me die, Clint," Cindy whispered. "You sat there and watched. I loved you. I trusted you."

"I couldn't do anything. Cindy, I'm sorry!"

"Sorry?" Loki repeated mockingly. "How can 'sorry' bring back a lost life? Her blood is on your hands."

"No."

"Yes, Clint, it is," Cindy murmured.

"Clint, listen to me," Natasha whispered urgently. "Listen to me. It's not your fault."

"It is your fault," Loki said, gripping Clint's shoulder. "Now end the poor girl's suffering. You've put her through enough."

Clint looked at Natasha's pleading eyes, to Loki's mocking ones, to Cindy's dead ones. Finally he looked at Coulson. "Phil," he begged, "you know there was nothing I could do."

"There was nothing you can do," Coulson agreed softly. "And there's nothing you can do now."

"NO!" Clint screamed, but even as he did so, the blade in his hand struck true and Natasha fell lifeless to the floor. Clint stared in horror at what he had done and then looked up at Loki. With a snarl, he lunged, but Loki merely laughed and sidestepped him. He swung the scepter around and held in front of Clint's heart.

"I'll kill you," the archer shouted, "I swear on everything I hold dear, I will kill you!"

"That is a bold oath," Loki said with a smirk, placing the tip of the scepter on Clint's chest. He felt the cold energy seep into him. "And what will hold you to such an oath after you've destroyed everything that you hold dear?"

Chapter Text

"Stark's not going to be happy when he sees that wall."

Clint drew back his bowstring and let another arrow fly. It had been a few days since the surgery, and in that time his nightmares had gotten substantially worse. There was nothing he could do, but imagining that he was shooting Loki in the face helped a little bit. "There's a fly over there."

Natasha turned on a treadmill behind him and began to jog. "Not even you can see that good, Barton."

"Sure I can."

Natasha made a noncommittal noise in her throat. "Is your sudden hatred of walls because Banner thinks that it's a safe bet that Loki will survive now?" she asked coolly.

Clint lowered his bow and looked at her. "He does?"

"Yep."

"I didn't know that. Thor must be happy."

"He's relieved. Loki's going to have a long road to recovery, though. And really, anything could happen. Something unexpected, something that Banner missed... it could easily kill him."

Clint studied her for a moment. She stared straight ahead, her red curls bouncing as she jogged in place. He shot another arrow at the imaginary fly on the wall. "Are you suggesting that we kill him, or warning me not to?"

"Jarvis would know if you did anything. Right, Jay?"

-Of course.-

Clint smirked bitterly. The fact that he had figured out how to bypass the virtual butler's safety protocols when it came to Loki did make him feel guilty. But Loki was the one who needed to be stopped, before he could hurt anybody else. "I already promised not to kill him without an excuse, Tasha. And when I do it, I'm going to make sure that Thor can't blame Banner and end up with a giant thunder-vs-Hulk battle levelling New York City."

"When?"

"He'll make a mistake eventually, and I'll be ready when he does."

Natasha stopped the treadmill and looked at him for a moment. "You haven't been talking to me again."

"I went and saw that shrink that Rogers suggested."

"You told me that the man was useless. You could have told me that the reason he was a 'gibbering fool' was because you threatened to render him unable to have children in the future."

Clint winced. "You talked with Fury?"

Natasha shook her head in disappointment. "I thought you were starting to do better, Clint."

Clint fired another arrow. "I'm fine."

"Then why did you lie to me? Why are you avoiding me?"

"When did I lie to you?"

"You told me that your nightmares were getting better."

"I don't want you to worry."

"No, you don't want my help."

Clint looked sharply at her. "What do you mean by that?"

"Every time we talk and you start to let go of that hate that's festering in your heart, you immediately take off and convince yourself that Loki deserves nothing more than-"

"He does." Clint inhaled deeply. "Every time we talk, I go to sleep that night and my nightmares are worse. The things I do to you are worse."

"And so that makes you want to do this to me in real life?"

Clint winced. "I-"

Natasha waited for a moment for him to continue and then shook her head again. "Just talk to me, Clint. That's all I want."

Clint stared at the far wall. If he connected the dots formed by the arrows he put in the wall, he could draw a picture of a face. Whose, he didn't know. He sighed and headed over to retrieve the arrows. "I guess Stark's not going to be happy when he sees this, is he? Maybe I should get a great big poster of him to hide the holes with. It's a sure bet he'll never take it down."

"Pepper might."

"Maybe I'll put a posture of the two of them up then."

-There is no need, Agent Barton. I'll have a repair crew fix it.-

"Thanks, Jarvis."

-You're welcome. Just don't do it again.-

Clint pulled the arrows from the wall and turned to Natasha. He wanted to talk to her as much as he didn't want to talk to her. But not talking was easier. "I'm going to go for a swim to gather my thoughts. We can talk later, I promise," he lied.

Natasha studied him for a moment and then nodded. "But we do have to talk."

"Sure thing," Clint muttered, heading off.

#

Loki was certain that death couldn't hurt this much. The pain was the first thing he became aware of, even before consciousness. Every breath he took sent pain scurrying down his spine, and when he winced because of it, it grew worse. It didn't hurt as much as the Valdkvikindi, but-

Loki's eyes snapped open, remembering the Chitauri, the Other, the Valdkvikindi. He remembered the Avengers holding him down while Banner cut him open. He remembered the agony searing through him and Romanoff blocking off his airways to put him to sleep. He gasped, ignoring the pain. It had worked. The Valdkvikindi was gone; he could feel that it was gone.

Suddenly Loki became aware that something was moving on his back. Instantly images rushed back to him, the Valdkvikindi's probing mouth; the laughter of the Other. He jerked away, crying out in pain and fear when his spine protested. He could feel straps pressing in on him. He was trapped!

"Whoa, I'm just checking the bandages," Banner's voice came, soothingly, and the movement on Loki's back ceased. "It's okay, it's okay."

Loki's breathing calmed somewhat. He grew still and wet his lips but didn't know what to say. As he calmed, he became more aware of his surroundings. He wasn't cold, but nor was he particularly warm. He was lying on his side on an uncomfortable bed of some sort, facing a wall that looked familiar. He realised suddenly that he was in the room that he had lived in before his escape from Stark tower.

Interesting, he thought, but he couldn't quite figure out what was so interesting about it.

"Everything looks okay," Banner sighed after a moment, and Loki felt him pull something –blankets – up over him. He twitched again, and then a large hand patted the back of his head in a soothing manner.

"If it's all the same to you, stop petting my head," Loki said archly.

The hand withdrew. "You're awake?"

"Either that or I have decided to carry on a conversation in my sleep."

Banner chuckled, walking around the bed to sit on a chair. The man looked huge, much bigger than when Loki had seen him before. The doctor looked uncertain. "How do you feel?"

Loki was about to respond sarcastically, but then he stopped. This man had saved his life after all. Saved him from a fate worse than death. "Not good," he replied truthfully, "but not as bad as it was. Might I sit up?"

"I'm not sure that's a great idea. There was a lot of damage to your spine."

Loki felt cold fear slide into the pit of his stomach. "What happened?"

"Well..." Banner trailed off. He then sighed, and reached over to remove the straps holding Loki in place. "I'm going to help you sit up, but you have to be careful. Hold onto my arm."

Loki complied as Banner shifted him into a sitting position, looking in alarm at how thin and small his own arms were compared with Banner's. He looked quickly at the doctor, wincing when his sudden movement sent a shock of pain through him. Banner didn't react, his brown eyes cool he adjusted the pillows around him.

"Well then," Loki said once he was sitting.

He let his breath out slowly to try to ease the pain from moving. Various contraptions were around him, and he was alarmed to see an IV drip inserted into his arm. He grabbed at it, half yanking it from his arm. Banner responded by grabbing his arm to stop him, which jostled him. Pain flashed through him and he let out a short scream.

"Whoa!" Banner exclaimed. "What are you doing? Okay, this was a bad idea."

"Take it out," Loki demanded.

"What?"

"The IV. Take it out."

"It's just-"

"No drugs."

Banner's brows creased. "But-"

"No drugs!" Loki said, louder this time. He made another move to rip the IV from his arm. Blood dribbled down his arm.

"It's just a saline drip. I wasn't sure what sort of effect painkillers would have on your system and I didn't want to risk messing things up more," Banner explained, keeping a firm grip on Loki's arms. "Calm down or you're going to injure yourself even worse."

"A saline drip?"

"We had to keep you hydrated somehow."

Loki searched Banner's face and then nodded slowly. "All right. If that's all it is, then it can stay." He relaxed slightly. "How long have I been unconscious?"

"A few days."

"My face hurts."

"Not surprising, given the state of the inside your cheek. It's like hamburger," Banner muttered, fixing the IV back into Loki's arm and pressing gauze against the spot. "I've had a hard time keeping it from getting infected."

Loki ran his tongue over the raw flesh of his inner cheek, and then looked back at Banner. "You said that there was a lot of damage to my spine."

Banner nodded, and then looked away as if he didn't know how to proceed. "We got the Valdkvikindi out of you, but we... I made a mistake. Its skin got caught on one of your vertebrae and tore."

Loki's stomach dropped. He blanched, eyes widening in fear.

"Thor had to burn out the spores," Banner continued, and stopped to gauge Loki's reaction. "I'm sorry."

Loki's eyes narrowed. Sorry? He had nearly destroyed his man's home and now he was receiving an apology for a mistake that Banner was bound to make... the man wasn't an Asgardian healer, after all! Loki drew in a deep shuddering breath, not knowing how to respond. I'm sorry.

"But it's gone?"

Banner nodded. "It's gone. It took a lot of your magic to keep you alive. Thor gave you what he could-"

"What?"

"Thor transferred his magic to you.

Loki's confusion mounted. "Thor gave me magic? Is that possible?"

It was Banner's turn to look confused. "He said that's what you were trying to tell him to do."

"I did?"

Banner shrugged. "He thought you were trying to say 'magic', after he... put out the fire."

Loki frowned, and cast his mind back to the pain. It made him cringe just thinking of it. Why would he be talking about magic? It had always been his understanding that only highly trained healers could pass their own magic to another individual. As for Thor, Loki sometimes doubted that he had a magical bone in his body. So then why...

"Oh."

"'Oh' what?" Banner asked.

"Nothing," Loki replied quickly. He looked down at his blanket-covered toes. He hadn't been trying to say magic. He had been trying to say Mother.

"Anyway, Thor's magic helped you heal – a lot – but it was touch and go for a while there. We weren't sure that you'd live."

Loki was silent for a long moment. Eventually he looked at Banner, and noticed very suddenly how old and tired he looked. His dark hair was greying and the wrinkles around his eyes were deep. Mortals. They withered so quickly.

Loki adverted his gaze again. "So how old am I now? That much magic... will have taken its toll."

Banner smirked. "Two, maybe. You were shrinking pretty fast after the surgery, but it looks like you've stabilized."

"Two?" Loki looked down at himself and let out a disgruntled sigh. Then he noticed that the area around his lower regions seemed... bulkier than normal. His eyebrows shot up and struggling to contain himself, he looked back at Banner. "Am I wearing a diaper?"

"It was necessary," the doctor replied apologetically.

Loki groaned as he realized what that meant. "I should have died."

"Really?" Banner's voice was soft, and it surprised Loki that there was no mocking tone in it. "Do you really think that you should have died?"

Loki didn't respond. He looked down at his toes again. "Where is Thor?"

"He's on the roof," Banner replied vaguely. "He wouldn't leave your side until he was certain that you'd live, but he seemed to think that you wouldn't want him to be around when you woke up."

Loki didn't respond to that. Truth was, he was glad to hear that Thor had stayed by his side, and also glad that he wasn't there now. He wanted his brother- but Thor wasn't his brother anymore. They may have been raised as brothers, but how could the prince of Asgard be a brother to the son of Jotunhiem's king?

Considering everything that Loki had done, he couldn't understand why Thor hadn't just killed him. It would have been easier for them all. Sentiment? It had to be. Loki pushed aside his confused feelings and concentrated on what he could see before him, the toes under the blankets.

"You said that the Valdkvikindi's spores had to be burned out of me? Will I..." Loki trailed off, struggling to keep his two-year-old voice from trembling. He swallowed. "Will I be able to walk again?"

"Signs have been positive, but I'm no expert in Asgardian physiology-"

"And even if you were, it wouldn't do you much good. I'm not Asgardian. I'm Jötunn."

Banner raised an eyebrow at Loki's bitter correction. "Can you move your toes?"

"I don't know. There's too many blankets; I can't see my toes."

"I am trying to help, you know," Banner replied conversationally. "And I did save your life. You could try not being so angry."

Anger is all I have left, Loki thought, but didn't say it aloud.

Banner lifted the blankets off Loki's toes. Then he looked back to the little demigod with an expectant expression. Loki took a deep breath, staring at his feet. He was almost afraid to try. If he couldn't move them... if his spine had suffered too much damage, and his magic hadn't been able to heal him...

Loki tried to wiggle his toes. The pain in his spine made him gasp with the effort, and he felt tears spring to eyes. He gritted his teeth and kept sending the command. Slowly, as though in delayed reaction, his toes curled over. He couldn't stop the soft cry of relief from escaping his lips. He uncurled his toes and curled them again, ignoring the pain.

"Good," Banner said encouragingly, "but don't push it. I'd better go let the others know that you're awake."

"That may not be the case for much longer," Loki warned. Even though he had just woken up, he felt exhausted again and the pain in his back was getting too much to bear. Banner nodded and began to turn him back over to lay him on his side.

"Does it hurt?" Loki asked suddenly.

"Does what hurt?" Banner asked, positioning the demigod so that he was lying comfortably.

"When you turn into the bea- the hul-" What was the phrase the doctor used? "The 'other guy'?"

"Not as much as it used to," Banner replied eventually, beginning to strap Loki down again.

"Are those really necessary?" Loki complained, disgruntled. "It's not like I'm going to be running away again."

"You were thrashing around quite a bit before. Nightmares, I suppose. It's a precaution for your own safety."

Ah. "Very well."

"I'll be back soon," Banner told him, but Loki didn't acknowledge him or even care. He closed his eyes and breathed, but even that hurt. He was alive. And he didn't know what to think about that.

Chapter Text

"Loki?" Thor said quietly when he entered the room, not wanting to disturb his brother if he was sleeping.

"I'm awake."

Thor had to tell himself that the smell of fire and burning flesh was just his imagination as he walked around the hospital bed, which Loki was strapped to. Awkwardly, he sat down in a chair beside the bed, and struggled to know what to say. Loki looked back at him with a cautious expression. He was so small, so defenceless, that Thor had no idea how to deal with the situation.

"I want to sit up," the toddler demigod demanded.

"I don't think-"

"I want to sit up."

Thor hesitated. "I don't want to hurt you."

Loki's lips set tight and his eyes narrrows. "Thor."

"All right." Thor carefully removed the straps holding Loki into place, and then helped his brother to sit, rearranging the pillows the best he could to ease the pressure on Loki's back.

"Dr Banner told me that you gave me your magic," Loki said once he was comfortable.

Thor was glad for something to talk about. "I did what I could."

Loki contemplated him. "How?"

"I don't know," Thor answered honestly. "You needed it, and so I gave it to you."

"Have you regained it yet?"

"Not all of it." Thor thought about himself for a moment. "I feel… empty. It is very strange."

"Uncomfortable, isn't it?" Loki quipped, but there was anger in his voice. "Isn't it terrible to be barred from something so essential to your being?"

Thor opened his mouth to defend Odin's spell, but closed it again. He was certain that Odin had never imagined that the spell would result in a situation such as this. Thor certainly hadn't thought that Loki would use, or need to use, such a massive amount of magic once he learned the effects of it. But he knew that Loki didn't want to hear any of it. If their places had been reversed, Thor knew he wouldn't. Even now, he could not understand why his father hadn't sent aid. It had to be because Odin had known that Loki would recover. That was the only explanation.

Loki studied Thor for a moment, and though trying to decipher his expression. "What do you want, Thor?"

Thor's glance fell on Loki's arm. Loki pressed his inner wrist against the blankets to hide the scar and looked away. Thor didn't know how to proceed. Well, maybe just plunging ahead would be the best course of action. "When did you do it?"

"None of your concern."

"Loki, please."

Loki looked down and turned his arm to look at the scar. "It was shortly before I came to earth. Before Thanos decided to send me here for the tesseract." He was silent for a long time, staring at the scar.

"Why?" Thor asked, and instantly regretted the question.

Loki pressed his wrist against the blankets again. His emerald eyes fired with anger. "You think I'm a coward."

"No, Loki, I-"

"You don't know what it is like out there. I saw things that would leave you sickened and shaking with fear. And what I went through-" Loki cut off. "Get out."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean…" Thor trailed off, struggling to know what to say, but not about to obey Loki's order to leave. "What I wanted to ask is why didn't you come home?"

Loki looked away. "I couldn't."

"Yes, you could have," Thor said earnestly, leaning forward, wanting - needing - Loki to understand. "We would have rejoiced to see you alive. Mother hasn't smiled since-"

"No, I couldn't, Thor. I tried. I didn't know how." Loki looked back at him. "I couldn't find my way. I would have come home if I could have."

Guilt rose in Thor, but he didn't allow himself to look away. "This is my fault."

"Yes, it is," Loki replied swiftly.

"What could I have done differently?"

Loki's eyes went cold. "You did not just ask that."

Thor was surprised by the venom in Loki's voice. He didn't respond.

"You know exactly what you could have done. Not even you are that stupid," Loki spat.

"Perhaps I am."

Loki searched his gaze for a moment, and then laughed bitterly. "You threw me off the bridge! You threw me into the abyss! And now you dare ask what you could have done differently?"

"I threw you?" Thor repeated incredulously. "You cannot twist that to suit your own ends, Loki! You let go!"

"What?"

The wrinkle in Loki's brow and almost fearful way he had spoken stopped Thor's anger from building. Loki stared at Thor for a long time. He opened his mouth, but didn't speak.

"Loki-" Thor started.

"You threw me." Loki's voice was soft, numb almost, and a strange look of panic came to his eyes. "I remember."

Thor shook his head.

"You threw me off the bridge! I heard you shouting as I fell! I thought – maybe you didn't mean to, maybe you wished you hadn't..."

"Loki, I did not throw you off the bridge."

"Stop lying to me!" Loki cried, breaking eye contact. He hunched over and dug his fists into his eyes. "Just stop! For once in my life, I want to hear the truth!"

Thor glanced up at the door as Banner entered the room. The doctor stopped, eyebrows raised. "Sorry. I'll come back later."

Loki straightened so quickly that he cried out in pain. He didn't look at either Thor or Banner, but his brow smoothed. "Don't bother, doctor. Thor was leaving."

Thor shook his head. "Loki-"

"Go away, Thor."

Thor slowly stood. Loki's face was growing paler, and the ragged breaths that he was sucking in through his teeth were not merely from anger. Thor didn't know what to do. He looked at Banner, as if the other man would be able to give him an answer, but the doctor looked even more confused than he felt.

"Loki-"

"GO AWAY!"

Thor stepped back, startled by the violence of Loki's outburst. Banner hurried forward.

"You're going to hurt yourself if you keep doing that," he scolded. "Thor, please."

Thor's shoulders sagged. Without another word, he walked away.

#

"Have you seen my arrows?" Barton asked Steve as the captain was getting ready to update Fury on what was happening.

"You've lost them?"

Barton grunted in reply and walked away. Steve raised his eyebrows, shrugged, and continued on his way.

#

After much discussion, it was decided that Natasha would be the one to interrogate Loki. After all, it was her specialty. She had to be a little more wary with him, it was true, since he knew her techniques and would adjust his responses accordingly, but she felt that he wouldn't be trying to hide all that much from her. The Avengers were his only protection at the moment.

"Are you awake?" Natasha asked when she walked into Loki's room.

There was a brief silence, and then Loki grumbled, "Yes."

Natasha allowed a brief smile. He sounded just like a sleepy toddler, which was probably going to make things a little harder. He still had pride, and none of them had expected him to look so young and vulnerable. She walked around the bed and sat down in the chair, keeping emotion from her face. "Good. I have a few questions for you."

Loki looked like he had just woken up, and the way he tried not to yawn while staring petulantly at her made Natasha struggle not to smile.

"Well? I thought you had questions."

"I do." Natasha hesitated a moment. She couldn't help herself. "Stark was right. You're adorable."

Loki's expression hovered somewhere between angry and incredulous. "Did you seriously just say that?"

"It's true."

"You're just as insane as the rest of them."

"Hey, all I'm doing is stating fact. Besides, you attacked my world, I should be allowed a little payback," Natasha said, wiping her amusement at Loki's petulant stare off her own face. She settled down into a chair, studying him carefully. "But cuteness aside, I do have questions. And I would appreciate it if you are completely honest with me."

"Honest?" Loki repeated. "What is that human expression? Keep dreaming."

Natasha raised her eyebrow. "Do I have to remind you that we did save you from becoming a spore-sprouting zombie?"

Loki's gaze flickered to the ceiling. The petulant look was still there, but it lessened. "I am not so accustomed to honesty. Especially not in recent years."

"Fair enough," Natasha conceded. "But unless you want whoever it was you put that thing in you to come back and do it again, I suggest you try."

Loki looked back at her. "It was the Chitauri."

"It looked to me that they all died at the end of the battle," Natasha replied with a raised eyebrow.

"That was only on earth. They are a composite creature, organic and mechanic, as I'm sure you know. When Stark sent the nuclear bomb through the portal, it disrupted the signal from the mother ship necessary for their survival in a world that was not their own," Loki explained. "But that wasn't all of them."

"And why would they come after you? I thought that it was your army," Natasha layered on a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

"It was more of a loan," Loki replied. He shifted and grimaced. "This was a... debt collection of sorts. I failed to get him the tesseract."

"Him?"

A brief look of panic flashed in Loki's eyes before he stomped down on it. He looked back at Natasha for a long time, and she could see that he was deliberating how much to tell her. Eventually he sighed, looking tiny and fragile. It didn't suit the Loki she knew. "Thanos. The Chitauri were working for a man named Thanos."

"And he's the one who did this to you?"

Loki snorted bitterly. "Not him personally. He sent his head minion. I only know him as the Other. Thanos wanted the tesseract to wage war upon the universe, and without it he would need to pursue other avenues. He would not take the time out from his plans to punish me. I'm not worth that much to him."

"But you're worth something, or else the Other wouldn't have journeyed to earth."

"Yes." Loki frowned. "I honestly didn't expect that he would spend the resources to seek me out like this, but the greater punishment with his attack would have been to the Earth for not submitting."

"And you came to us for help?" Natasha probed, already guessing the true reasons Loki came to Stark tower but needing confirmation.

Loki's face was emotionless. "No."

"Then so that we'd be the first to be infected."

Loki hesitated. "No."

Natasha studied him. "I see," she murmured softly.

"And what is it that you see?"

Natasha didn't reply to the question. Instead, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, which she unfolded so that Loki could take a look at it. It was one of the drawings that Dylan had made of him. Loki's eyebrows arched as he took in the drawing. His lips pressed together.

"So you met Bay," he murmured, looking at the caption at the bottom of the page. I cut out my heart that I might live.

"His real name is Dylan. He had a whole sketchbook of drawings like this one."

Loki looked back at her face. "That's kind of creepy, Agent Romanoff. One, that he kept drawing me, two that you keep one of those pictures in your pocket. You're not developing a little crush on me, are you? Because I'll be honest. You are far too young for me."

Natasha ignored the jibe. "You came back to Stark tower to die."

"No, I didn't," Loki responded, defensively and automatically.

"Then why?"

Loki's gaze turned away. "I don't like the Other, and I wanted to ruin his plans," he muttered. His hands curled into fists.

"Please. You've been wanting to die since before you arrived here."

"Have I?" Loki countered sarcastically.

Natasha pointedly did not look at the scar on his inner wrist, but Loki still pressed his arm against the bed to hide it. Natasha leaned forward slightly. "Why else would you tell all of Asgard that you're a Jotünn?"

"To punish Odin."

"By forcing him to sentence you to death," Natasha swiftly answered. "Are you going to deny it?"

Loki still didn't look at her. His eyes narrowed in anger. "If you're so intelligent, I'm sure there is no need to."

Natasha contemplated the little demigod. "I didn't get it at first, but I'm starting to."

"Starting to get what?"

"Why you want to die."

Loki clenched his teeth together. "And why is that?" he spat at her.

"Because life hurts too much. Because no matter how much you hate them, you still love Thor and your father. Because you are alone, and that there is nothing worse than that. Because cutting out your heart so that you can live doesn't work. Because you wish you could erase the actions you've taken, but what has been done cannot be undone. You've got red in your ledger, and you can't wipe it out."

Loki remained silent, and his gaze turned back to Dylan's drawing. His face was hard, and that was how Natasha knew that she had hit home. She frowned, wondering if she had perhaps pushed too hard.

"Where is he now?" Loki asked, jerking his chin at the picture.

"We put him in rehab. He's been clean for ten months. He's doing well," Natasha folded the paper back up and returned it to her pocket. "Plus any drug dealer who may potentially sell him anything knows that if they do, I'll hunt them down. And they would not find the consequent experience pleasant."

"Aren't you just his dark guardian angel," Loki replied sarcastically. "Are we finished?"

"Not yet. Is Thanos going to attack earth again?"

"I don't know."

"Is the Other still here?"

"I don't know."

"Guess."

Loki frowned, thinking. "Maybe. The Other wouldn't stay on the planet, so that he wouldn't run the risk of being infected. But he probably has a ship. He may have stayed to make sure that I did not escape punishment. Earth is a little world; I can't see Thanos expending too many resources on it. But then... I really don't know much about him, other than he loves the company of death. Actually, it's more like he worships death."

Natasha frowned as she contemplated Loki. He was obviously struggling to stay awake. She decided that they were done. She stood. "Is there anything else we should know right now?"

"Look both ways before crossing the street."

Natasha suppressed a chuckle. "All right. I'll be back later with more questions once you feel up to it."

Loki grunted in reply.

Natasha hesitated for a moment. "And Loki? You might want to start trying to find your heart again."

Chapter Text

Bruce paused a moment to roll up his sleeves before rinsing out the washcloth to continue to wipe down Loki's tiny body. He had turned the heat up in the room to keep Loki from shivering, but his skin was still cold. The demigod looked halfway between annoyed and embarrassed. They had attempted to let him clean himself up, but unfortunately the contortions necessary were too much for him to handle. He didn't speak as Bruce carefully shifted him to his side, but his breath hitched.

"Are you sure you don't want something to help with the pain?"

"I'm sure."

Bruce rinsed out the cloth again. It was difficult for him not to ease Loki's discomfort, but he wasn't about to breach whatever trust there had been built between the two of them. He hesitated as he washed Loki's arms, his gaze lingering on the long, thin scar.

"So, your scar-"

"That's none of your business," Loki snapped instantly.

"Yeah. I know," Bruce replied, finishing up and grabbing a towel to pat Loki's skin dry. "I just thought... you should probably know that you're not the only person in this room who tried to kill himself."

Bruce watched as understanding came to Loki's face. The little demigod frowned. "You?"

Bruce nodded. "I'm not going to ask what drove you to it, because it is none of my business. But, I know what it's like, to see no other way out. And I know how hard it is to talk about it. I just wanted you to know that if you ever want to talk about it to somebody... not that you would... but if you do, I'll listen."

"Well, like you said, I wouldn't want to talk about," Loki said stiffly as Bruce placed him back into the hospital bed and strapped him back down. The doctor could see that the demigod was trying to hide his disappointment, and wondered if Loki wanted him to stay.

"I'll be back later."

"Why should I care?" Loki responded instantly.

Bruce shrugged. "I don't know," he deadpanned. "But I will be back."

#

Steve threw himself face down on his bed, letting himself sprawl out in a manner that was most unbecoming for Captain America. He didn't care. Between updating Fury on the situation at Stark tower, trying to talk with each of the Avengers to see how they were doing, convincing Stark that he needed to return so that they could plan their next move, and getting updates on Loki's condition from Banner, he had barely sat down in two days. Even a supersolider needed rest. He longed for the good ol' days when it was actually possible to get some sleep.

Now wasn't going to be one of those times. Even as Steve considered whether or not he should just go unconscious how he was or if he should at least take off his shoes, there was a knock at his door. He tried not to groan too loudly.

Dragging himself off the bed, he walked to the door and opened it. Barton stood on the other side. "Stark just arrived."

Steve's brows arched. "But I was just talking to him five minutes ago."

A ghost of a smile twitched Barton's lips. "That was three hours ago, Cap."

"Great," Steve muttered. "Even when I sleep I don't sleep."

"We've got coffee."

Steve grunted in reply and followed Barton back to the kitchen, where, as promised, a pot of coffee sat on the table. However, it seemed as though Thor had decided not to share, and was cradling the pot between his hands like a giant mug. Steve stared in dismay until Romanoff silently handed him a mug.

"Thanks."

Romanoff shrugged. The Avengers all took their normal spots and then looked at Steve to start the meeting. He took a deep draught of his coffee, wrinkling his nose at the lukewarm liquid but deciding not to comment.

"Romanoff, what did you get from Loki?" Steve started the meeting by asking.

Romanoff leaned back on her chair. "The Chitauri army was a loan from a man named Thanos. He sent "the Other" to earth with the Valdkvikindi to punish Loki for failing to get the tesseract for him. It stands to reason that the Other is hanging around earth to make sure it works, and will pursue other paths of punishment once he realises that Loki escaped."

"Meaning my tower is going to be under attack again?" Stark muttered. "Guess that means I should tell Pepper to stay in DC still."

"She was planning on coming back?" Romanoff asked.

"Yeah. She was, when she heard that Loki was conscious again. But if this Other is going to attack the tower to get at Loki then I'd feel better if she didn't."

"Did Loki give you any indication when and how this guy will try to strike again?" Steve asked, steering the conversation back to the topic at hand. Romanoff shook her head. "Any way to find him?"

"We couldn't have a very long conversation. He may be conscious, but…" Romanoff trailed off.

"He's not out of the woods yet," Banner picked up. "There's still the danger of infection, which would make things real bad real fast. He's refusing to have any sort of medication or painkiller. I'm running blood tests at regular intervals, but I really don't know what I'm doing. The basic blood cell structure appears to be similar to human, but that is really all I can say at this point."

"He's still sarcastic and irritable. That's got to be a good sign," Romanoff said.

"How is that a good sign?" Stark asked, frowning.

Romanoff raised her eyebrows. "When you are feeling like you're going to die, are you up to your normal insults, Stark?"

Stark mulled it over and nodded. "Good point."

Steve allowed a small smile as he downed the rest of his coffee. His team was not one to keep on a given topic for too terribly long. "Stark, can you write a program to search for any Chitauri-like energy readings?"

"Wow, that almost sounded scientific," Stark replied. Steve rolled his eyes. Stark smirked. "Yes, Cap. Of course I can do that. I'll get started on it as soon as the meeting is over."

"Good. Now, when we find leads, we can't all go running after them like we did with Loki. At least two of us should to remain here at all times in case the Chitauri attacks the tower and try to go after Loki."

"I should be one of them," Banner volunteered. "I am the doctor."

Thor took a deep draught out of the coffee pot, looking for all the world like he was chugging back a pint of ale. The rest of the team watched him, knowing that he had something to say and was just reluctant to say it. When he set down the empty pot, he looked glumly at them. "I do not wish to leave the tower while my brother's life is in danger."

"We might need you out there," Barton reminded him. "If you and Bruce both stay behind we've lost our strongest members."

Thor nodded. "I understand, and I will join you as necessary. I would simply prefer not to be called upon for routine missions."

"Fair enough," Steve nodded. "We'll try to keep you here as often as possible."

"And while we're on the topic of Loki, I'm going to need some more supplies," Banner added. "Plus, I would like a little help looking after him while you all are here. I know changing diapers isn't exactly on the Avenger's list of duties, but if I'm going to figure anything out, I've got to have some time to work without being interrupted."

"Right," Steve muttered. "Thor, can you-"

"Loki will not accept my help."

"You don't know that," Banner argued.

"Yes, I do."

"We'll figure something out," Steve sighed. "Is there anything else?" Steve looked around and was happy to see that nobody looked as though they wanted to add anything. "Stark, go get started on that algorithm. I am going back to bed. You all know what you need to do. Please don't wake me unless there is an emergency."

"What kind of emergency?" Stark asked.

"An emergency emergency," Steve replied, rolling his eyes at the billionaire. "Good night everybody."

"Good-night," the Avengers chorused back at him in unison.

#

Thor sat despondently at the kitchen table, munching on a poptart. The Avengers other than Banner were off at various locations searching for clues as to where the Other was. He had had a heated discussion with the captain before this mission on whether he should go or stay.

Truthfully, he had wanted to use this time, with Banner working in his labs and the others gone, to visit Loki. Did he truly remember being thrown off the bridge? And if so, why? He wanted answers. But at the same time he didn't want to jeopardising his brother's health by making him angry again. Perhaps this discussion would be best left for when Loki was healed.

Banner entered the kitchen, gave Thor a brief nod of acknowledgement and went to the fridge. He opened the door and stared into it blankly. He looked tired, and his hair was ruffled as though he had been tearing at it. After a moment, he pulled out a jar of applesauce and plain yogurt and began mixing them in a small bowl.

"Is that for Loki?"

Banner nodded. "Could you take it to him? I'm just so busy. There's something weird-" he was interrupted by yawning.

Thor hesitated for a moment. "I am not certain that is a good idea."

"Thor. Please. So far he won't accept help from anybody but me, and I can't keep it up. You were the only one who could calm him down when he was having nightmares. Give it a try."

"All right. I do not think he will accept anything from me, though."

"I guess we'll find out." Bruce gestured to the mixture as he left the room.

Thor finished mixing the yogurt and applesauce and then went to Loki's room. He saw Loki's shoulders hitch and he hesitated in the doorway.

"There is no point in just standing there, Thor," Loki sighed after a moment. "Come sit down."

Thor let out a breath of relief that he hadn't realised he had been holding. He walked around the bed and set the bowl of applesauce down. The blankets were pulled up over Loki's shoulders, but the straps were still clearly visible. They still needed to keep him restrained at all times. He often lapsed into unconsciousness and thrashed about in his sleep if he was not strapped into place.

"Dr Banner had a lot of work to do," Thor explained.

"I thought so." Loki stared up at him with a guarded expression.

Thor helped Loki to sit up, handed Loki the bowl and spoon and took his own seat. Loki's movements were slow and deliberate as he ate. He didn't look at Thor, and he was still tense. Thor tried not to look at the scar on his arm.

"I take it you have not found the Chitauri yet."

"Not yet," Thor replied, glad that at least Loki was talking to him. "There were some strange energy readings in the kingdom of Canada, but-"

"Country."

Thor looked questioningly at Loki.

"Canada is a country, not a kingdom." Loki let his hands rest in his lap on either side of the bowl. With carefully controlled breath, he leaned back on the pillows and tried not to let his pain show. "The Other is too smart to give away his position like that. You won't find him, not until he comes for me again."

Thor wanted to reassure his brother that he would not allow the Other to harm him again, but it was a promise that Loki would never accept. "You need to eat."

"I'm really not hungry. Could you-?" Loki gestured at the bowl and then the table.

"Loki, you need to regain your strength," Thor mildly rebuked, but nonetheless did as Loki asked.

"Why?"

Thor searched Loki's face. "How can you ask that?"

"Are you really that naive?"

"I know you think that this is just a punishment, but our father-"

"Your father."

"Our father," Thor said firmly, "sent you here so that you could be protected until he could calm the minds of the people."

Loki looked away. "You really believe that, don't you?"

"Should I not?"

"No, you shouldn't. You hope too much."

"And you, brother, do not have enough hope," Thor said softly.

Loki looked back at him. His bright eyes held such infinite loss that Thor didn't know if he could hold his gaze. "What do I have to hope for? If I was truly sent here for my benefit, then why has no aid come from Asgard? Face the truth, Thor, I am nothing to him."

Thor reached out to his brother instinctively, but Loki jerked away. His cried out in pain from his movement, and Thor withdrew his hand. He looked away until Loki evened out his breathing once more, trying to think of what to say.

"Leave me," Loki demanded after a moment.

Thor hesitated. "Eat first."

"I am not a child."

"But you are in a child's body that needs nutrition. Eat, and I will leave."

"I do not wish to eat. I have no need of nutrition."

Thor stood, towering over him. He glared down at his brother, frustrated with his stubborn refusal. "You listen, Loki. I thought you dead once and I will not allow that to happen again."

Loki's eyes were cold. "Because the Mighty Thor deserves everything he desires, regardless of the wishes of others. You-" he cut off abruptly, hunching over as another cry tore from his lips.

Thor clenched his fists as helplessness washed over him. He was still angry, but the anger was as directed as much at himself as it was at Loki. Had he learned nothing? He should not be pushing while Loki was in such a fragile state. An apology was on his lips, but an apology for what? He didn't know what to say sorry for. Even if he knew what to say, Loki wouldn't have accepted it.

"If you want me to leave, I must restrain you again first."

"I thought you weren't leaving until I ate," Loki spat.

"And you made it clear you do not wish my presence here."

Loki glared. "Very well, then. Lock me in place again; subjugate me to your will. That's what you do best."

"I do not want this!" Thor shouted, anger getting the best of him again. He stopped himself and then rubbed his eyes in frustration. Without another word, he shifted Loki back onto his side, and strapped him in again. Loki's expression was murderous, but he did not resist. When he was done, Thor looked down and felt a pang in his heart again.

"I never wanted any of this, Loki. I only wanted to be your brother again."

He headed for the door.

"Thor."

He stopped in the doorway and glanced back. Loki's shoulders were tense and trembling. "What?" he pressed when Loki didn't speak.

"I am a little hungry," Loki grumbled softly.

Thor allowed hope to light his face for one brief moment as he turned back.

Chapter Text

You let go.

Loki had replayed the conversation he had had with Thor over and over in his mind, until only those three words seemed to have any importance.

You let go.

But he hadn't! The fight on the bridge- Thor had thrown him into the abyss. He had fallen, knowing that it was only reasonable, only logical, for Thor to take such an action. Thor had been shouting something as Loki fell. But shouting in triumph or regret?

You let go.

Thor was a terrible liar. So why had he looked like he believed what he was saying? Loki clenched his fists, noticing that he was trembling. Thor had to be lying. If he was not, and if Loki's own memories were the lie-

What did Thanos do to me? he thought, and then laughed bitterly at himself. That is perhaps the easiest question to answer. The real question is why he chose me instead of someone else from the desperate hoards to be his puppet.

And did Thanos do this to him, or did he do it to himself?

Loki shoved those thoughts aside; choosing instead to focus his energies on calculating how long it had been since the surgery. It was almost two weeks, if [his meal-time visits] were anything to go by. His injuries siphoned away his magic as fast as he could regain it, though it seemed he wouldn't be getting any younger. Of that, he was glad. It was humiliating enough being forced to wear a diaper because he couldn't control his small bladder, let alone if he wasn't able to talk!

Since he had awoken, other than the occasional interrogation, he had only seen Banner and Thor with any regularity; and then usually only at meal times or when Banner came to change the dressings of his injuries.

And the diapers.

Shut up.

Loki tried to shift, but the restraints stopped him. He grimaced. He was getting tired of being strapped in place all the time, even though he understood that it was for his own benefit. He often woke from bad dreams to the pain from jerking against the restraints. If they weren't there, he'd probably undo all the healing and injury himself some more. He heaved a sigh, glancing at the clock above the blank TV: Noon exactly. Thor or Banner would be bringing his lunch soon, and then at least he would have someone to talk to for a while. Banner may have thought he was doing the demigod a favour by insisting on giving him a TV, but human entertainment was all essentially the same thing and the romantic nonsense made Loki sick. Boredom was better.

The door behind him opened and he heaved out another sigh as if in annoyance, to cover up how pleased he was.

His relief at having company quickly dropped away when the person walked around the bed and Loki saw who it was. Barton. Loki's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he brought himself back under control.

"What are you doing here?" he snapped, wishing that his two-year-old voice wasn't so... two-year-old-ish. At least he could still clearly articulate his words.

"Banner was sleeping, so I brought your lunch," Barton replied. He sat with a wicked grin as he held up a Tupperware container. Loki eyed it suspiciously. The assassin's grin widened.

"It's not poisoned, if that's what you're worried about. If I was going to face Thor's wrath, it wouldn't be over something as subtle as poison."

Loki rolled his eyes. "Nicely dramatic, Barton. But I'm not hungry."

"But a good diet is a vital part of growing up strong and healthy," Barton replied, speaking as though Loki were an actual infant. He pulled a mockingly sincere expression. "You have to eat your lunch."

Loki was fairly certain that Barton wouldn't try to poison him – at least, not fatally – but that didn't mean that there wasn't something equally unpleasant lurking in that Tupperware container. He considered the assassin for a moment. Barton was clearly enjoying his power in the situation. Of course, had their situations been reversed, so would Loki. The demigod wished that he wasn't strapped down and trapped inside a child's body.

But he still had his words. And by the Nine Realms I will wield them!

"How many nights do you lie awake thinking of all the ways you'd like to kill me?" he asked coldly.

"A fair few," Barton replied casually, pulling the table closer and setting the Tupperware container on it.

"I'm sure you have an imaginative array of options by now."

Did Barton realise what Loki was trying to do? The grin stretched wider. "Oh, I do." He opened the lid and Loki smelled something that did not smell like lunch. Barton pulled a little pink plastic spoon out of his pocket and scooped up a little of whatever was in the container. Loki looked down at the spoon. The mushy greenish-brown gloop looked more like something one would find coming out the backside of an animal than food. There was no way that he was eating that.

"Open wide."

"I am capable of feeding myself."

"Yeah, the others might take off the restraints and allow you a little decency, but I'm not them."

Loki raised his hands, showing that he could still use them.

Barton's grin didn't falter, and he shook his head. "Do I have to force-feed you? I don't really care either way."

Loki glared, which only amused Barton more. The demigod contemplated his options; they weren't good. He decided that it would be slightly less humiliating to cooperate and not have his mouth pried open. Besides, fighting Barton would just tax a greater toll on his body, and he needed to heal as quickly as possible. Reluctantly, he opened his mouth.

The gloop had the same texture as a porridge made of ground chalk. It tasted worse. Loki gagged and spat it out.

"What is that?" he demanded, trying to wipe the taste off his tongue with his hand.

Barton grabbed his hands and held them both down in one of his. "Bean and banana purée. Don't spit it out. That's gross."

"Spitting is the gross part?" Loki knew that trying to get his hands free from Barton's strong grip was useless, but he tried anyway. "I'm not eating that stuff! Poison would be kinder!"

"You don't deserve kindness."

Loki stopped trying to free his hands and glared at Barton.

The assassin's eyes glittered.

Loki felt a pang of fear in the pit of his stomach. Thor was the only thing keeping this man from killing him in each and every one of that imaginative array. The others might find it hard to look past Loki's childish face and remember who he was and what he had done, but Barton didn't.

Barton saw the fear in Loki's eyes and released his hands. He scraped the gloop that Loki had spat out off the bed and held the pink spoon in front of the demigod's mouth. Loki looked down at it for a moment before opening his mouth. This time he didn't spit it out, and swallowed it down as quickly as he could.

"How much did you enjoy it?" he asked, hoping to slow down the next mouthful, as Barton scooped up more of the gloop.

"Enjoy what?" Barton popped the spoon into Loki's mouth. The amount and taste made Loki splutter. He wrinkled his face as he forced himself to swallow it down.

"Watching me burn. Listening to me scream."

Barton paused. The pink spoon looked ridiculous in his hands. He looked up at Loki and for a long time they stared into each other's eyes, both probing, both searching, both challenging.

"Well?" Loki said eventually, his voice low. "Tell me how much you enjoyed that."

"Thor would have probably pummeled me if I enjoyed it too much, so not as much as I thought I would."

Another mouthful of the gloop. Loki wished he could spit it right into Barton's eye.

"Are you sure Thor is the only reason?" Loki laughed at the brief second that Barton broke eye contact with him. "Are you getting soft, Barton? Forgetting everything I did to you? What I made you do? The people you killed who were your colleagues? Your friends? Not to mention the man I stabbed in the back."

Barton's grin disappeared. His hand shot out, closing around Loki's small neck. His fingers could reach all the way around. Loki didn't flinch.

"Do you realise how easily I could kill you right now?"

"I suspect," Loki replied coldly, "about as easily as Thor would kill you if you did."

Barton's laugh was mocking and the pressure on Loki's throat increased slightly. "You really think that Thor will keep protecting you after everything you've done to him?"

Loki didn't reply.

Barton removed his hand and leaned in so close that Loki could see himself reflected in the assassin's eyes. "Do you even realise how lucky you are to have him as a brother?"

"Lucky? I'm not his brother," Loki spat back. "I am nothing more than a stolen relic."

Barton's expression didn't change, but Loki inwardly flinched. He hadn't needed to say that. He hoped that Barton was angry enough that he wouldn't realise what kind of weapon he had just been handed. The assassin leaned back and put the pink spoon in with the gloop. As he stood up, he snagged the remote and placed it next to the TV. Out of Loki's reach.

"I thought you might be getting bored, so I picked up a special DVD for just you. It will keep playing itself over and over and over and over so you don't even have to touch the remote," Barton said, his voice callous and hard with hate.

He knelt before the TV and fiddled until it flickered to life. He reached into his jacket for what Loki assumed was the movie- he couldn't see the cover- and soon the DVD player started whirling. Barton stepped back to make sure everything was working properly, and then turned to smile once more at Loki.

Loki's gaze was fixed on the TV as the DVD started to play, equal parts curious and dreading. A great big purple thing appeared on the screen. It stood on two legs, had a long tail and was purple with perfectly round green spots on its back. It was fat, with a big fat tail and two fat hands that wouldn't be able to hold anything, and a great big fat head with a fat mouth and big, black eyes, and a fat green stomach. It began to laugh –somewhat creepily– and Loki blinked in surprise.

"This is your vengeance?"

"That," Barton replied, pointing to the screen, "Is your new best friend. Say hello to Barney."

And with that, the assassin left Loki alone with his torture.

Chapter Text

The Stark Jet's onboard TV was tuned to the news, but Pepper's thoughts were so busy chasing each other around her head that she just couldn't pay attention. Not hours earlier, Natasha had shown up at her DC office and recommend returning to New York. While Pepper didn't trust the assassin, she did trust her judgement, and had issued an order to prep the jet.

"Try and relax," Natasha suggested.

"Right." Pepper took a deep breath. "Worrying won't get us there any faster." She leaned back into her wonderfully soft chair. She fought back a brief pang of envy- Natasha was curled up with a book and giggling, comfy as can be.

"I thought that was supposed to be a horror," Pepper said, with a glance at the book's gruesome cover.

"It is supposed to be a horror," Natasha agreed. "But it's just silly."

"Maybe I should read it."

Natasha shook her head. "Oh, no. It would give you nightmares. See, I know that that a body doesn't-," She glanced at the page- "Blood doesn't 'engulf the killer like a tidal wave' when he cuts it in half."

"You've cut people in half?" Pepper asked, not sure whether she should be doubtful or not.

"No, of course not," Natasha replied promptly. "I was just making a point that you don't have such an… intimate understanding of how bodies work as I do." She shrugged. "Of course, you can actually enjoy thrillers and detectives stories."

"I will add that to the list of 'Reasons I'm glad not to be an assassin'," Pepper replied.

Natasha snorted with laughter. "You have a list?"

Pepper nodded solemnly. "I do. It's more of a pair of columns really. For instance, under "Why I'm jealous of assassins" I put 'killer thighs'. The flipside is, of course, 'killer thighs'."

Natasha laughed and put her book aside. "You have to show me this sometime!"

"It's right here actually," said Pepper, and swiped her tablet a few times.

"You have "I like pizza" under reasons you're glad you're not an assassin? Really?" Natasha asked after a brief glance at the list.

"Hey, I've seen you and Barton eat. Salad and protein shakes. Although I guess that's why you both always look so good."

"Pepper, when I'm in the middle of a life-and-death fight, how I look is at the bottom of my priorities," Natasha replied, scrolling down the list. "I'm not disputing my diet sucks sometimes, but instead of the years of training and putting my life on the line regularly, you have a problem with the rabbit food?"

Pepper shrugged, unabashed.

Natasha handed the tablet back. "Sometimes I wonder about making one of these."

"Really?"

"Yeah. What are the pros and cons to being a powerful business woman versus an assassin?"

"Specifically a 'powerful business woman'?" asked Pepper with a raised eyebrow.

"Okay, well, that part's new, but you get the idea. I would put 'ability to keep myself alive' under 'Reasons I'm glad to be an assassin' and 'empathy and the ability to improve the lives of others and care for them' as an enviable trait."

"Do you-" Pepper started, and then changed her mind. "You're still sure this is a good idea?"

"Yes. Loki needs someone to take care of him, and you're the best candidate for that," Natasha explained without a hint of doubt, opening her book again. "You understand temperamental children."

Pepper frowned. "He's not really a child."

"Neither is Tony."

Pepper allowed a grin. "So this will just be another case of 'Ignore what he looks and sounds like because I'm basically dealing with an infant?'"

"Exactly." But then Natasha lowered her book and gave Pepper a shrewd look. "You didn't tell him you were coming back to New York, did you?"

"Can't you turn off the ESP for once?"

"Sorry."

"I know he's going to worry, and I didn't want to get into an argument over the phone."

Natasha waited.

Pepper sighed. "I know I was just delaying it, but as least in person I can judge his reaction better."

She thought on her boyfriend for a moment. While they were only talking infrequently, Tony seemed to be dropping the nasty bite from his usual flippancy. Pepper took it as a good sign: he wasn't so stressed and angry anymore. She really hoped that she was right. If anything else, she was just glad to be returning to New York and Tony The same could not be said for returning to New York and Loki. She still winced to think of their last encounter.

But at the same time, she found herself lingering on that moment of panic she saw in his eyes before he lashed out. That had to mean something. She just didn't know what.

#

A door slammed shut, and Bruce Banner sat bolt upright. "I'm awake!" he called, a leftover instinct to his years in university.

"Sure you are," replied Tony, and Bruce wasn't surprised to hear him.

"How long have I been sleeping?" he asked, squinting- he couldn't actually see yet.

"Nothing," Tony started, beginning to pace. "Absolutely nothing."

Bruce rubbed his eyes, and was surprised to see the billionaire looked more insane than usual. "We didn't expect-"

"I know we didn't expect anything. But I hoped that we would find something after this time. What if Loki's lying? What if this is all a plot to gain our sympathy so that he can slit our throats in our sleep or something?"

Bruce shrugged. "If it is, it won't happen any time soon."

"Thanks," Tony said sarcastically. He flopped into a chair. "You know, he was a lot cuter before he escaped."

"He's pretty cute now, when he's not writhing in pain."

Tony frowned. "He isn't getting better?"

"Not by a long shot. He needs more constant care than what we've been able to give him. It was a traumatic-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I was there," Tony cut him off, looking a little green. "I don't like thinking about it, gives me nightmares." He was silent for a long time. "I've never seen anything like that, Bruce."

"Neither have I."

"You seem to be handling it better than me."

Bruce shrugged again.

There was another long silence until Tony let out a long, somewhat exaggerated sigh. "Jarvis is getting dinner ready."

"Dinner?" Bruce exclaimed, checking his watch. True enough, it read five. "Great, I've slept the whole day. Who else was here?"

"Barton."

"I've left Loki in Barton's care all day?" Bruce groaned. "Thor is going to pummel me!"

-I tried to wake you- Jarvis said, sounding casually scolding. –I monitored the situation. Loki is in need of some assistance, but he is fine. Agent Barton did not do anything overly hostile.-

"Thor is still going to pummel me for leaving Loki alone for so long."

-That may be true.-

Tony dismissed his concern with a wave of his hand. "You can take him."

Bruce ignored the remark, and went to the guest floor as quickly as he could. Once in Loki's room, a huge weight flew off his chest upon finding Loki still alive.

But it didn't last long.

Loki stared straight forward, unseeing.

His face was blank and his eyes were dead. And he had been making so much progress, too. Lately, that emotionless look had been slowly dissolving into more genuine expressions. In terms of his mental health, Loki was probably right back where he was in the weeks before his escape.

Bruce winced. "I'm sorry. I fell asleep."

He noted the smell of the room meant that Loki's diaper needed changing- badly. And there was something else… Was the TV smoking? Didn't matter. One moment of weakness (or one day of rest) had sent all his hard work right out the window. Loki was entirely dependent on him, and he had broken that trust- what made it worse was that trust was only given very begrudgingly in the first place! He kicked himself again for his nap while the 'what ifs' continued to pile up at an alarming rate.

"Are you all right?"

Loki's gaze shifted silently to him, and then back to the wall.

"I'm sorry," Bruce said again, beginning to undo Loki's restraints.

"You don't have to keep apologising, doctor."

A little tiny swell of relief loosened Bruce's chest because Loki didn't sound furious, but the vacant quality of his voice quickly stomped it out. Bruce found himself wishing for anger. At least that would let him know what Loki was feeling. He noticed a container with some brownish gloopy stuff and a pink spoon on the table. "What is that?"

"Apparently it's what assassins feed their prisoners," Loki replied flatly.

Bruce cringed, and decided to check it for poison at the earliest opportunity. "And the TV?"

"I asked Jarvis to blow it up."

"Why?"

Loki didn't reply. He was stiff as Bruce picked him up, and remained that way. He wasn't seeing anything, especially the doctor. He didn't speak or move as Bruce cleaned him up and moved him over to the changing table. Bruce, for his part, felt embarrassed enough for the both of them as he changed the diaper. He'd generally managed to keep the humiliation of wearing diapers at bay, but those days were probably over. When he was done, he checked the bandages on Loki's back and winced when he saw that they needed to be changed as well.

"Are you going to be okay if I-" Bruce cut off, reminding himself that while Loki looked like an infant, he most certainly wasn't. Even if he did roll off the change table (which wasn't likely, given how motionless he was), the fall didn't pose much of a danger. . Bruce dug a wipe from the medical kit and washed his hands before tearing open another cloth for Loki.

"What did Barton do to you?"

"Nothing."

"Then why do you look like you're pretending to be a cor... doll," Bruce finished lamely.

Loki turned his gaze to the doctor and raised his eyebrow. "A cor doll? Are you serious?"

Bruce shrugged. "I'm not so great with similes."

"Obviously." Loki contemplated the doctor for a moment, his eyes still blank, but when Bruce turned him over to his stomach to change the bandages, he spoke again. "Do you have a family, Dr. Banner?"

"Everybody has a family."

"What are they like?"

Bruce didn't reply for a while, debating how much he should tell to the demigod. He wasn't certain that he trusted Loki enough not to use the truth against him come some distant date. To buy himself time, he carefully peeled away the bandages. Loki's skin was red along the incision. That did not look good in the least. As he started to gently clean it with a sterilizing wipe, Loki winced.

"I was adopted," Bruce said. Honesty is the best policy, right? he thought grimly. Lying wasn't going to help with Loki's trust issues.

"Really?" Loki asked, clearly fighting against the stinging of the wipe. "Why?"

Bruce grunted, He really didn't like talking about it. "My biological father tried to kill me as a child and ended up killing my mother instead. Apparently I witnessed it, but I don't really remember. I was young at the time. My gir- A collogue theorised that the suppressed emotional trauma made the Other guy so difficult to control."

Loki was silent for a moment, as if this new information needed quite a bit of thought. "Why did your father want to kill you?"

"Long story. Basically, my father, David Banner, performed experiments on himself. The effects- the other guy- were passed along to me." Bruce could almost hear the Other Guy growl with the surge of anger he always felt recalling this memory. "And so he decided to kill the monster before it could grow."

"Lucky," Loki said softly, more to himself than to Bruce. "My sire was embarrassed that I was a runt and left me to die in the snow." Bruce digested the information for a moment, wondering if it was the truth. "And yet you'd rather have him as your dad than Odin?"

"It's not exactly something I can choose."

"Sure it is," Bruce argued, "I don't consider David to be my real father."

"It is his blood that flows in your veins."

"Love is more important than blood. DNA doesn't make a family."

"And yet you keep his name. Banner."

"It's also my mother's name." Bruce finished applying new bandages and picked Loki up from the change table. He turned back to the hospital bed but frowned. The room stunk, and the bedding needed to be cleaned as well. "Jarvis, where is Thor?"

-In his room, Dr Banner.-

"Why do you need to know where Thor is?" Loki asked, his expression falling into suspicion.

"Because this room needs to be cleaned, and- well, I don't really think you should be left alone right now. Besides, I need to get you something to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"You still need to eat."

Loki looked up at him and let out an exasperated sigh. "I understand Thor, he's an idiot, but why does it matter to you? I am your enemy."

"You're my patient." Bruce shrugged. "Patient trumps enemy."

"You humans." Loki sighed with apparent disgust. "It's a good thing I failed to take this world. I would have gone mad trying to figure you lot out."

Bruce managed a little smile, though he wasn't certain that Loki was trying to be humorous. He went to Thor's room and knocked on the door. Thor answered quickly, frowning when he saw Loki cradled in Bruce's arms.

"What is wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing's wrong," Bruce assured him, and carefully handed Loki over to him, despite the frustrated sigh from the toddler demigod. "His room needs to be cleaned and-"

"I am fine alone," Loki interrupted. "I managed it for years."

"He needs something to eat," Bruce continued, ignoring Loki's protest. "I'm sorry, Thor, but I fell asleep and he didn't get lunch."

Thor frowned at his brother, who looked tiny in the god of thunder's massive arms, and then looked up at Bruce. "Barton was the other Avenger here today."

"I said I'm fine," Loki snapped, and then inhaled sharply with pain. "Thor, I'm fine. Or at least I would be, if you weren't holding me like an infant."

"I am not-"

"Yes, you are!"

"And I thought you two were getting along now," Bruce sighed, shaking his head. He turned and headed back up the corridor as the brothers started to squabble.

Chapter Text

The sofa was old and beyond repair. Someone had attempted to fix it anyway with patches and borrowing cushions from other items of furniture. Loki sat on one end, Clint on the other The TV flickered between aliens bursting out of people's chests and cowboys swaggering around saloons. A beer was clutched in Clint's hand. Loki's expression was blank and unseeing, his little two-year-old body curled into a ball. A steak knife was jabbed into the centre of a dilapidated coffee table in front of them.

Thor entered the room. He looked between the two of them, and then yanked the steak knife from the table and handed it to Clint. The edge was beautiful and sharp and lovely. Clint enjoyed the feeling, the danger, as he ran his fingers along the blade, not quite pressing hard enough to cut himself. He turned and looked at Loki.

Loki began to cry. Softly, silently. He looked up at Thor. "Don't do this, Thor. Please. I don't want to die."

Thor sat down, cuddling Loki under his arm.

Holding him still.

"You deserve to die, Loki," said Thor. "You know you do. But it's okay, I'm here, I won't leave you."

"Promise?" Loki whispered, tears streaming down his face.

"Promise."

Loki nodded. "All right," he whispered, and then closed his eyes. Clint twirled the knife in his hand and brought it to Loki's throat

Suddenly, Clint felt a hand on his shoulder. He whirled around instinctively, only to have his arms caught, the knife twisted from his hand, and then he was face down on the floor, trapped. He grunted, struggling. His arms were twisted harder behind his back, and he bit his tongue to keep from crying out.

"Relax, Barton, the more you fight the more you'll hurt."

Clint looked up. Phil Coulson was pinning him down, a slightly disappointed expression on his face. Clint stopped fighting, and Coulson let him go.

"Phil!" Clint exclaimed, not knowing what else to do.

"Have you forgotten everything that I taught you?" Coulson asked, shaking his head. "Didn't I tell you revenge isn't the way to go?"

"He killed you," Clint replied softly, not needing to ask what Coulson was talking about.

"Yes, he did. But look at him, Barton. He's tiny. He's helpless. Just like Cindy was."

"Don't do that."

"He's not the same man who killed me. You know that." Coulson put his hand on Clint's shoulder. "If you ever respected me, listen to me now. He killed me, but if you ignore what I would have wanted, then you're killing me again. Think, Clint. You're hurting the people who love you."

"Nobody loves me."

"You know that's not true," Coulson said softly. "Let go of the sceptre, and the sceptre will let go of you. It's the only way to stop this, Clint."

Clint hesitated a moment, and then looked over at the sofa. Thor was gone, but Loki was still there. He had stopped crying and was curled in on himself, covering his ears with his hands as he stared at Coulson. Clint fought the swell of pity that rose in him. He looked back at Coulson, whose gaze was, as always, cool and calm.

"No," Clint replied, backing away from his mentor. "There's only one way to stop this."

And he snatched up the knife.

"Barton, don't," Coulson said sharply.

Clint looked down at Loki, who stared back at him with a gaze full of guilt. "Do it."

Clint was only too happy to obey the order.

Clint gasped as he jerked forward, his hands warm with Loki's blood.. For a moment, he wished that he could go back, to stop himself, if only so he could talk with Coulson again. He dug his knuckles into his eyes and found that they were moist. Taking a deep breath, he swung himself off his bed. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, and shouldn't have even lain down. He had work to do.

#

It wasn't that Tony didn't want Pepper at Stark tower. In fact, if he weren't so terrified for her safety, he'd be over the moon.

And Romanoff knew it. Yet somehow she had still convinced Pepper to return. Not only that, but nobody had told him, scrapping all his chances to try and talk her out of it. "Everything is going to be fine," Pepper reassured him (again) as they headed to the first 'everyone's back together' dinner..

"It's not," Tony argued. "What if the Chitauri attack the tower while you're here? What if they lure us all away and no-one'shere but you and Loki?"

"There're always at least two Avengers here," Pepper reminded him. "And if they attacked Bruce they'd regret it, and you know it. I'm just as safe in Stark tower as anybody else."

"Yeah, but-"

"But what?" Pepper turned and pinned him with a firm look. "But I'm not Iron Man or Thor or the Hulk or Black Widow-"

Tony sighed in defeat. "There's nothing I can say to change your mind, is there?"

Pepper shook her head. "I talked with Bruce and he thinks that Loki needs more constant care than the Avengers have been able to give him. Or that he's accepted."

"And you think that you can give it to him? Pep, he nearly killed you."

Pepper hesitated a moment, and then nodded. "But he didn't mean to. Natasha thinks – and I agree – that it might make him less hostile to me. Remember the card? I'm the only one that he came close to apologising to. I don't know why, Tony, but I think I can help. And even if I can't, then you can bet every Iron Man suit that I'm going to try. "

"He doesn't deserve your help."

"Maybe."

"What if he hurts you again?"

Pepper was relieved of answering because they had entered the quest kitchen. "Sorry we're late everyone," she said.

Tony, being Tony, said instead: "I have arrived, the party can start." He sat down and noticed Loki. "Were you coerced into this too? Who coerced him into this? Remember the last time?"

"What implies I had an option?" snarled Loki.

Tony had some witty comeback until he had a double take: "Has anyone told you how tiny you are? Since when are two year olds that small?"

His size wasn't helped by the oversized shirt.

Steve swallowed. "You haven't seen him since-,"

Tony covered his ears, "Do not bring that up. I'm trying to eat here!" And he noticed something else: "Where did the high chair come from?"

"I went out and bought one the other day," Bruce replied.

"Did you spend your own money or mine?"

Bruce rolled his eyes, and everyone laughed awkwardly.

Except Loki. He hadn't looked up from his tray, nor had he said anything. Every now and then he would close his eyes and bite his lip.

"Anything you can do for him?" hissed Tony, elbowing Banner. "He won't accept anything," Bruce whispered.

Tony felt a twinge of pity that he tried to banish.

"It's hard to think he's the same guy who threw me out a window," the billionaire murmured.

"You can stop staring at me now, Mr Stark," Loki snapped, though he hadn't looked up from his food.

Everyone looked at Loki, and then at Tony.

Tony squirmed.

"Awkward," sang Steve, grinning devilishly at finally being able to turn the tables on the Incredible Iron Man.

"A Scandal in Belgravia," Tony shot back, and Steve's face turned to approximately the same shade as a sunset in Africa

And so the meal continued.

Awkwardly and silently. Pepper and Natasha tried for… something, but it died rather quickly.

Tony decided that as soon as Loki was grown-up and gone, he was going to find out who thought this was a good idea and then kick them out of the tower. Unless it was Pepper. Or Thor. Or Bruce. And it probably was one of them, so most likely there was nothing he could do about it.

Near the end of the meal, Tony heard a soft melody.

His blood ran cold.

The rest of the world faded away until only Loki was left.

Barney is a dinosaur from our imagination…

Loki and the eerily annoying song he was humming.

"All right, that's it," Tony said, slamming his hand down on the table, "I cannot stand it anymore." He glared at the group, one by one. Each looked back at him somewhat startled. "Who's the traitor that brought Barney into my house?"

There was silence for a moment. The collective shock had become 'just how far is Tony off the deep end', complete with arched eyebrows.

Thor looked particularly perplexed. "What is this Barney? Is it a weapon, or-""It's a children's show that Tony thinks is trying to kill him," Pepper explained under her breath.

"It is trying to kill me!"

"A children's show is trying to kill you?" Thor repeated, looking even more confused.

"Yeah, and your brother has been singing that stupid imagination song for the past five minutes! JARVIS has very strict programming to block any television program that features that thing, so somebody must have brought in a DVD. Now who was it?" Tony got to his feet and glared around the table until he locked on to the one person who didn't look confused. The one person who was still eating. "Barton?"

Barton shrugged, nonplussed. "Didn't know there was a ban."

"Wait, you bought him a Barney DVD?" Bruce asked Barton, incredulous.

Barton shrugged again. "One of the ones that plays over and over and over..."

"And over and over and over," Loki muttered under his breath, glaring down at his food. It was just a little disconcerting, that he wasn't being overtly hostile to the Avengers themselves. Tony frowned as he contemplated the demigod.

"So that's why you had Jarvis blow up your TV," Bruce mused, and then turned back to Barton. "Why Barney?"

"'Cause Bob the Builder is cool."

"Bob the Builder?" Rogers questioned.

"You should have gotten him a Care Bears DVD," Romanoff interrupted, eating her dinner with a mildly amused expression. "All those exasperatingly cute little furry monstrosities would love the villain right out of him. Plus they're more annoying than Barney."

Loki looked up from his food with an arched eyebrow, but didn't speak.

"Nothing is more annoying than Barney," Tony replied. "And the Care Bears rock, okay? Have you seen the 'Care Bear stare'? It could take down the Hulk."

"Thanks," Bruce muttered.

"No problem."

"I think you're all missing a really important factor here, though," Bruce continued, and everybody turned to him. "Have any of you seen The Wiggles?"

Instantly, there were cringes all around the table. Thor glanced around, his blond eyebrows knitted together. He shared a look with Rogers, and both seemed to be glad to realise that the other one really had no clue as to what the heck The Wiggles were. Rogers shrugged and started eating again.

Thor sat back and shook his head. "I am very confused."

"Nothing new then," Loki said. Thor glanced at him, looking not so much hurt as resigned, his shoulders sagging. Loki returned the glance and then found his food very interesting. He shrugged, wincing when he did. "Sorry. That was uncalled for."

Tony's eyebrows shot straight up. Had Loki just apologised? He glanced around at his companions, to see if they had heard too. Judging by their expressions, they had.

Loki didn't seem to notice all the gaping stares that were sent his direction until he looked up, probably because of the deep silence. "What?" he demanded.

"I think we all just had a group hallucination," Tony said. "Did you just say sorry to Thor?"

Loki scoffed in annoyance and rolled his eyes. "You are all such children!"

That was the Loki that Tony knew. The one he knew how to deal with. "I'm not the one wearing the bib, buddy."

"Only because it wouldn't fit over your fat head," Loki shot back.

"Fat head? Really? That's the best you could come up with?"

Barton stood up from the table and gathered his meal. "Looks like Barney's paying off after all."

Romanoff followed suit without a word.

Chapter Text

"Nice corner," said Natasha, making an exaggerated inspection of the area of the gym they were sitting in.

"Nice corner," Clint agreed, "How's the burrito?"

"Beans are good. How's the wrap?"

"Gotta love fafafel."

They were silent again.

"Why Barney?" Natasha asked eventually.

"I can't exactly do anything else."

"You could avoid him."

Clint grunted.

"But really. Barney." Natasha snorted. "There was more."

Clint shrugged, He reaaallly didn't want to talk about it, but he knew he should- if not for his sanity, then because Natasha would beat him if he didn't. "We talked."

"About what?"

Clint knew Natasha well enough that the light, casual tones of her voice were warning to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

"About how much I want to kill him," he replied dully. "I messed up, Tasha. I told him he was lucky to have a brother like Thor. I just hope that he was angry enough that he doesn't realise what that means..."

Natasha didn't push.

"He asked me if I enjoyed watching... the surgery. I-" He took a deep breath. "I was more truthful than I should have been. And then he was kind enough to remind me of what he did. To me. I almost snapped." He faded to a whisper. "For a moment, I wasn't sure if I could stop myself from killing him... And then I put in Barney and left, so that I wouldn't- Because Thor would kill me if I hurt his brother, and Loki isn't worth dying over."

Clint's nightmare struggled at the tip of his tongue. He held it in, even as it begged him to look at Natasha. She knew him. She would see turmoil in his eyes and force him to speak. Once he started, there would be no stopping. He would tell her about the dream, about Loki, about Coulson, and she would say, "It's because you know that Coulson wouldn't want you to continue along this path" and "You know that".

And Clint would say, "Coulson's not here to say that himself, and that's Loki's fault. I can never forgive him, and like hell will I forget."

And she would put her hand on his shoulder and tell him, "I know you blame yourself, but there was nothing you could do."

He would look into her eyes, "If I can't protect the people that mean the most to me, what's the point of living?"

But he didn't look at her, and he didn't speak.

Natasha stood up and held out her hand, "Wanna spar?"

Clint grinned and accepted her hand, happy to have at least a moment where they could be friends again, without all the crap that Loki had brought into their lives coming between them. "It would be my pleasure, lovely lady."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut up!"

#

"You should not have returned, Miss Potts," Loki said, staring up at the ceiling. He stirred, and grimaced with pain.

"That's what Tony keeps saying," Pepper replied, rearranging the bedding. "Comfy?"

The look he gave her was so Tony that she was tempted to laugh. He was annoyed, and also frustrated. They'd gone back to his room after dinner, mainly because he was falling asleep in his chair. Tony had wanted to put a dish of ice-cream under the sleepy toddler-demigod's face. The idea was quickly dismissed by an angry Thor.

"Where is the doctor?" Loki asked.

"In one of the labs," she replied, "Bruce picked up a new energy surge so he and Tony are trying to triangulate its position." She tucked the blankets in, not too tight, not too loose. "Is that better?"

He nodded reluctantly. "I am more comfortable."

Pepper waited for a thank you that was not forthcoming. She supposed she shouldn't expect it. Going from the would-be king of the world to a helpless child would be tough on anybody.

"Is there anything you need?"

"No."

"Okay." Pepper started to leave, but changed her mind and pulled a chair up beside the bed.

Loki looked both slightly confused and pleased. "Is there something you want?"

"No. I just don't have anything to do right now," Pepper replied, thinking about the massive pile of paperwork she had sitting on her desk. "I might as well keep you company for a while."

Loki gave her a shrewd look. "You are a terrible liar, Miss Potts."

"I know," Pepper conceded. "But it must be boring to just lie here all day."

"You're being kind again. Do you not remember what happened last time?"

Pepper shrugged. "Not really. I hit my head pretty hard."

Loki broke eye contact for the wall. A flash of guilt crossed his face, and he tried to stifle it, but his bright green eyes were troubled. "And it seems as though you haven't learned anything from it."

"Is that what you intended with that card of yours? Seems to have had the opposite effect."

Loki looked up at her sharply. "What card- Oh. That. I thought it got burned in the fire."

Pepper shook her head. "Natasha gave it to me."

Loki's gaze was steady, but his lips tightened. "Then everybody read it."

Pepper nodded.

Loki looked away. "It wasn't supposed to be read," he murmured, anger in his voice.

"Then why did you write it?"

"I was living under a stage, Miss Potts, I got bored. I-" he cut himself off and shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

"All right." Pepper contemplated the toddler demigod for a moment. "Why did you lash out like you did, Loki?"

"What does it matter?"

"I want to understand."

Loki frowned as he searched her face. His fingers toyed with the edge of the blanket. Eventually he shook his head. "There is something wrong with this world of yours, Miss Potts. Everyone here is mad."

"Are we?"

"What else could explain this lingering insistence on compassion?"

"Do you want me to leave?"

Loki hesitated. "I won't object if you stay."

Pepper raised her eyebrows. "So you want me to stay."

"You really want me to say that, don't you?"

"I want you to answer me directly."

Loki kept searching for that ulterior motive, yet a brief smile flicked across his face. "You are a very patient woman, Miss Potts."

"I'm dating Tony Stark, of course I'm patient," she quipped. "And you can call me Pepper."

"Very well, Pepper." Loki seemed to roll it around his tongue a few times, testing the feel of it. He hesitated again, and tried to adjust his position. He inhaled sharply and stopped. After a moment, he wet his lips and looked at her. "I would appreciate the company if you stayed for a little bit. If you don't mind."

"Was that so hard? You didn't burst into flames or anything."

Loki rolled his eyes. "The day is not yet over."

Pepper chuckled. She glanced around to find another subject to talk about she found a book on the nightstand. "Would you like me to read something to you?"

"If you want to."

Pepper picked up the book and snorted when she saw it was Norse mythology. "You like reading this stuff? Don't we have it all wrong?"

"Yes, you do. It is most amusing. According to you humans, the people of Asgard can be distracted with anything that's shiny and gold as long as it was made by dwarves." Loki grinned, and snuggled into the pillows. "Did you also know that, apparently, I have given birth to an eight-legged horse?"

"Really?"

Loki nodded seriously. "I do wish someone had told me that I was a mother."

Pepper laughed. "Well, according to the tabloids, I'm pregnant."

"Congratulations," Loki teased.

"You know, if I had a baby every time they said I was pregnant, I would have at least a dozen kids by now."

"You humans are crazy," Loki said matter-of-factly. "But if you ever do decide to have children, I am certain you would make an excellent mother."

Pepper was both touched and surprised. She'd never heard him speak so offhandedly before. "Thanks."

Loki broke eye contact again, grunting softly. Pepper decided it was all she could hope for, and opened the book.

#

Thor walked around the gym equipment to where Romanoff and Barton were sparing. Barton was currently in the lead, with Romanoff pinned to the floor, but she had gotten her left knee around his neck- a dangerous position. In the few sparring matches the Thor risked against the humans, he had learned to be wary of Romanoff's infamous 'killer thighs'. Even a god could have his neck snapped by strong legs.

"Agent Barton."

The two warriors untangled themselves and stood, panting from their fight.

"Agent Romanoff, would you please leave us for a moment?" Thor asked Romanoff,

She shook her head. "No offence, but you can't control your temper when it comes to Loki," she told him. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I didn't hurt him," Clint said before Thor could respond. "Check Jarvis's records."

He had, and hadn't seen anything untoward, but that was not the point. "Agent Barton, I have fought with you and consider you to be an ally and a friend. I had thought that I could trust you."

"In general or around your brother?"

"Both."

Barton stared him in the eye for a moment, almost challengingly, before he nodded once. "I'm sorry. I know what I did was stupid and reckless. It won't happen again, I promise."

Thor wasn't entirely convinced, but he was placated somewhat. He was about to say so, but JARVIS got there first.

-Mr Odinson, you're needed in Master Odinson's room immediately. Something appears to be wrong. -

Thor was about to accuse Barton of poisoning his brother, but Barton's look of confusion made him stop. -Mr Odinson, hurry.-

Thor turned on his heel and ran to the elevator.

#

Pepper read aloud for a few hours before she paused, thinking Loki had fallen asleep. tExcept he was far too still and stiff for sleep. Sweat glimmered on his temples.

"Are you okay?" she asked, reaching out to brush his hair from his forehead. He was unnaturally warm. Pepper started in alarm. "JARVIS, send Bruce in here right away."

"I am fine," Loki replied through clenched teeth.

"And you said I was a bad liar," Pepper murmured. She laid the back of her hand against his forehead and then his cheek. "JARVIS?"

-Dr Banner is on his way,- the butler replied. -Thor is coming as well.-

"Good," Pepper said, while Loki groaned softly. He opened his eyes again and Pepper saw that they were slightly glazed.

Within moments, Bruce and Thor burst into the room. Both looked concerned.

Pepper stepped away from the bed as she explained: "He's got a fever. But he was fine just a few minutes ago- how could a fever set in so fast?"

She tossed Bruce a pair of surgical gloves and he went quickly to work. Without anywhere else to stand, she joined Thor by the door. He had his arms folded across his chest in what Pepper had come to learn meant he was worried and uncertain of what he should do. She put her hand on his shoulder and tried to give him a reassuring smile.

Bruce rolled Loki onto his stomach and peeled back the bandages. He said a long phrase that made Pepper's jaw drop. She didn't even know what half of those words meant.

"What is it?" Thor asked, stepping forward. He stared for a moment and repeated Bruce's string of obscenities.

Despite herself, Pepper peered around Thor. A vivid and swollen red I was cut into Loki's back, punctuated at regular intervals by black knots. Streaks of red radiated out from his spine, like jagged bolts of lightning. It was clearly infected- white pus oozed from the incision and had dried to cake the puffy edges. Pepper felt sick, and repeated the phrase as well.

"I'm assuming by the colorful words that there is something terribly wrong with me," Loki said, attempting to sound casual.

"You have an infection," Bruce replied, not sounding like his usual calm self. "But I changed these bandages earlier today and there wasn't-"

Loki interrupted. "Whatever magic I've recovered is instantly applied to the injury. It's no wonder my immune system is compromised- I haven't had this little magic for years, and without it to facilitate-"

"If that's the case, then you would have a cold, not an infected injury," countered Bruce.

"Because of me," Thor said softly. "It's my magic."

Pepper and Bruce both looked at him with questioning eyes, while Loki suddenly went very still.

"Healers take years to train in the exchange of magic because the uncontrolled flow may be as destructive as it is helpful. His body is rejecting the magic I gave him."

"Like a transfusion with the wrong blood type?" Pepper suggested.

"I do not-"

"Never mind. We're going to need antibiotics and more tests..." Bruce trailed off, stripping off the gloves. He took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes.

"If this is magic based, only magic can heal it," Loki said softly.

Pepper shared a glance with Bruce and Thor, both of whom looked uncertain. She stepped around the bed and crouched so they were level. She stroked his damp hair back from his forehead, despite the choked noise of protest.

"We have to try something. And you have to help us," she said firmly.

Loki narrowed his eyes, and searched her face. He parted his lips, but didn't speak. After a moment, he made a small shrugging gesture. "Do what you feel you must."

Chapter Text

Steve took a deep, calming breath before calling Fury on the video conferencing call. He was sick of Fury's refusal to help, and by gum that was going to change! Captain America was a man who governed himself through honor and integrity. It was high time the director did the same!

Not that Steve was going to use those exact words.

"Captain," Fury greeted moments later when his image flickering onto the screen. "What's happening?"

"Loki has gotten a bad infection and we need antibiotics. Banner's listing what he wants, and we'll send it to you as soon as it's done, but there's a few he needs now."

Fury narrowed his eye. "Why?"

Steve ran through all the arguments he and Stark had prepared while role-playing this scenario. The practice was now profoundly useless.. "Director Fury, Thor helped us out when we needed him, and now he needs us. Loki is no longer a threat-"

"At this time," Fury argued. "You want to help him heal so he can try to destroy New York again?"

"He's gonna die."

Fury's expression was unreadable. "As far as I see, captain, that isn't really your concern."

Steve levelled his gaze. "It is my concern, director, and it is your concern because it is Thor's concern. He is a member of this team and he needs our help. We will give it to him"

Fury didn't look impressed. "Loki is an enemy to earth."

"He is also a prisoner and as such we have certain duties," Steve countered. "If we refuse help, it makes us guilty of his death. And even if there was justification for idle murder, there is no justification for turning Thor away when he needs us."

Fury still didn't seem convinced, and remained silent.

"Besides that," Steve continued, trying to lessen the anger in his voice, "Loki knows more about the Chitauri than anyone else. If they are going to attack earth again, then we could use his knowledge."

"I'm going to be honest here, Captain. None of what you just said makes me think this is a good idea. But you are right. If the Chitauri are coming again – based, I remind you, on Loki's word – then we do need his knowledge of them. And Thor is a valuable ally."

"He's more than an ally, sir. He's a friend."

"So you're saying, at the very least, he's earned our help."

"Yes sir."

Fury paused a moment and then nodded.

A little something in Steve passed out from relief: no reprimand for talking back to his commanding officer! "And as such, he deserves our help in return.

Fury pulled over a pad of paper. "What antibiotics are we talking about?"

#

Tony hesitated a moment before entering Loki's room. Bruce didn't look up, concerned as he was with the saline drip in Loki's arm. The little demigod was a pitiful sight, strapped into place on his side, naked except for the blankets (and diaper, but Tony didn't want to go there). A steady, piercing beep came from a heart monitor.

It was unnerving.

"Hey, Bruce," Tony greeted, sticking his hands into his pockets. "Thor wants to talk with you."

"Now?"

"I'll sit with Lokster ("Lokster?" Loki repeated in disgust) to make sure he doesn't kick the bucket in the five minutes you're gone."

Bruce didn't look amused, but reluctantly agreed, and gave Loki, Tony and JARVIS all strict instructions to call him if anything changed.

Loki glared at Tony, but the effect was somewhat lessened by the thin sheen of sweat on his temples. "Lokster?"

"Yeah. Lokster. It's a mocking, if slightly affectionate, nickname."

"Affectionate?" Loki repeated. "Should I start calling you Papa, then, and insist that you buy me a pony?"

"I couldn't do that, Pep says no equines in the tower." Tony frowned: Loki's skin His skin was so pale that it was almost transparent, emphasizing the dark circles under his eyes and his chapped lips. The billionaire sat down. "You look awful."

"So do you," Loki responded. "When was the last time you shaved?"

Tony ran his hand over the stubble on his chin. "Pepper tells me that you've got a magical infection."

"Correct. What about it?"

Tony inspected Loki for a moment. Usually he had no problem saying what was on his mind, but this was different. "Is it going to kill you?"

Loki's gaze was steady. "Probably."

Tony grunted. He didn't know what to say. "Your life sucks, you know that?"

"And yet you still refuse to buy me a pony."

"I'll see what I can do..." Tony trailed off and leaned back in his chair. He would work on the designs for an Avengers-plus-Loki proof carousel later. When lives- when the usual number of lives were on the line. "All right, so here's the deal. You're not allowed to die."

Loki raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"I'm not repeating myself."

"What do you care?"

"I..." Tony shrugged. "Pepper cares. You already hurt her once."

Loki subtly looked past Tony's head. "I hardly have a choice in the matter."

"Sure you do. You can fight."

"This is magic, Mr Stark. Not a few shards of shrapnel that can be stopped by a little circle of light."

"Fighting is fighting. Hey! Look at me," Tony snapped.

Loki did so, but with annoyance.

Tony leaned forward to emphasize his point. "You threw me out of a window; you smashed up my floor-"

"Technically, that was Banner."

"You flooded my tower; it took me three months to get Senator Stern to stop bringing up those texts that you sent him, you hurt JARVIS, and you hurt Pepper." Tony tapped the bed just before Loki's nose. "You see the trend?"

"I see a trend. I fail to see where this is going, however."

"You owe me," Tony clarified. "And you owe Pepper. Big time. She was far kinder than you deserved, and you hurt her. But you know what? She cares about you. You get it now?"

Loki's brow furrowed deeper. "Honestly? No."

Tony shook his head. "Let me put it another way. I didn't go through all the trouble of buying you this awesome hospital equipment just for you to croak."

Loki rolled his eyes. "Fine. I won't die. Happy? Now leave me alone."

But Tony didn't leave. He recognised the resignation on Loki's face, in his voice, by the slump of his shoulders. He had felt that same resignation in the cave when he thought that he was a dead man walking. If it hadn't been for Yinsen, he would have been dead.

"Are you scared?"

"Leave me alone."

"You're right." Tony leaned back. "That's none of my business. Have you seen the Care Bears yet? 'Cause I could get you a DVD. And some lip chap."

#

The antibiotics weren't working.

Bruce cursed under his breath as he checked the incision on Loki's back. In the week since they had discovered the infection, the white pus had turned milky-yellow, like cream gone sour. The vivid red streaks had spread along his pale skin, one winding all the way to his neck. Oftentimes spasms of pain seized the little demigod, lasting anywhere from a few, tense minutes to hours that felt like years.

"We'll have to try a more aggressive approach. I can't even tell if we're even slowing it down," Bruce said as he taped new bandages into place.

"I told you, only magic can heal me now, and your antibiotics certainly have no magic. And it's clear no aid will be sent from Asgard."

Bruce's concern for Loki's health distracted him from the bitter resignation of his words. "We have to try."

"Do you?"

"Yes!"

Sweat coated Loki's face and he panted through clenched teeth, trying to control the pain. Bruce hovered nearby, hating to see the toddler face twitch and the tiny fists tremble. It was hard for him not to do anything.

"Look, I'm going to give you something-" he started.

"No," Loki gasped.

Bruce was very tempted to ignore the protest, but that would be unethical. "Just to take the pain away."

"No!" Loki shouted, and collapsed into pained whimpers. He struggled to keep himself still. "I can handle this."

"You don't have to."

"Yes, I do."

Bruce frowned, but did not argue any further. He tried the best he could to ease Loki's pain with ice packs, occasionally wiping the sweat from his tiny body and pretending that he didn't see the tears that leaked from his eyes. After what seemed hours Loki's trembling ceased and he relaxed slightly. His face was far paler even than the death-like pallor that had becomes the norm. Bruce sat back and shook his head in frustration.

"Why won't you accept help for the pain?" he asked, taking off his glasses to dig his knuckles into his eyes. He was truly exhausted. He hadn't slept for at least three days.

Loki opened his eyes, but seemed to have trouble focusing. "I can't."

"Why not?"

Loki took a deep breath, grimaced, and let it out again. He glanced towards the door. Thor had taken to sitting just outside the room in the hallway at all times, because more often than not Loki would become irrationally angry to see him, screaming curses and making things worse.

"Is Thor there?" Loki asked quietly.

"No. He went to the roof to shout at the sky about an hour ago. He wouldn't tell me why."

Loki was silent for a moment. "You can't tell him."

"What? Why not?"

"Just swear that you won't."

Bruce frowned deeply. "All right. I swear."

Loki nodded once, and closed his eyes. For a long time he lay still, evening out his breathing. "After I – left – Asgard, after I fell into... We called it the void, thinking it empty of life- empty of everything. I passed out while I was falling, and woke up on a ship. The crew were from a people I did not know existed. They dropped me off on a planet with no name full of starving refugees... I did things there, I saw things... I managed to get away, to another planet with no name, and it was worse. I kept trying to find a way home and I couldn't. I didn't know how. I didn't know where I belonged in the universe. I fell again into darkness, but this time there was no-one to pull me out. I couldn't see a way to escape from it... and so I started to take stuff, so I wouldn't have to think, wouldn't have to feel."

"You took drugs?"

"Yes," Loki admitted after a moment. "I wanted to forget my life. And it worked."

"What happened?"

"It got bad," Loki said, clenching his teeth as a new wave of pain washed over him. "I was running up debts I couldn't pay, a lot of people were mad at me, but I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop. It nearly killed me, several times, but I kept going back to it."

"You're afraid of a relapse," Bruce realised quietly, horrified at the words coming from the toddler's mouth. He thought of the crazed man he had first known Loki as, and it suddenly made sense.

Loki hesitated – probably on the brink of protesting the use of the word 'afraid', Bruce mused – but then nodded. He didn't look at Bruce. "Even mild painkillers may have such an effect on me. I can't risk it."

"How did you get off of it?"

Loki briefly stiffened. "I took too much. I was going to die in the gutter lying in a pool of my own vomit. That's when Thanos found me. He recognised me as a prince from Asgard. He got me off the stuff, got rid of my debts... well, got rid of my debtors. He gave me a new purpose. Sent me to earth."

"And so you traded one addiction for another."

Loki reluctantly nodded. "I suppose that is one way to look at it. You won't tell Thor?"

Bruce shook his head. "I said I wouldn't."

"Will you tell someone else to tell Thor?"

Bruce rolled his eyes. "That's what you would do, isn't it?"

Loki hesitated. "Yeah. I would."

"I won't tell anyone," Bruce assured him. "Thank you, for being honest with me."

"How do you know I was being honest?" Loki challenged quickly.

"If you weren't, then thank you for taking the time to come up with such an elaborate lie," Bruce replied just as swiftly. Loki chuckled in appreciation, but it quickly turned into another grimace. Bruce put his hand on Loki's shoulder. "I have to run some more tests. Would you like Thor or Pepper to come sit with you?"

Loki hesitated. "Pepper," he finally sighed. "Unless... no, Pepper. Not Thor."

"Are you sure?"

"No, but that doesn't matter."

Bruce nodded once and stood to go.

"Dr. Banner?"

Bruce waited.

"Thank you. For listening."

Bruce had a feeling that even if they hadn't been enemies, this would still be a very rare occasion. "You're welcome." He turned to go, but stopped. "One more thing, if you don't mind. Why don't you want Thor to know?"

"Because-" Loki started in a petulant tone. Then he adverted his gaze once more and a look of deep sadness came over his face. When he continued, his voice was so low that Bruce had to strain to hear the words. "Because he'll just blame himself. It's not his fault, and I am tired of seeking revenge."

Chapter Text

"Have you turned your gaze away when we have the most need of your assistance?" Thor shouted at the sky, fists trembling. "Is there more compassion on earth for their enemy than in all of Asgard for their prince? Answer me, Heimdall! Where is Asgard and its glories now? Where?"

There was no answer from the distant realm. Thor had expected none, but the silent, overcast sky filled him with rage. Snow fluttered down around him, melting as it landed on his skin. He had never felt so helpless, never so at fault. His magic had saved Loki's life, but now it was slowly sucking that life out of him.

Would it have been better for Loki to die quickly after the surgery? At least then he would not have to suffer so much pain-

"Heimdall!" Thor shouted again, louder. "Why will you not answer me?"

And worlds away, Heimdall's golden eyes closed as he heard the footsteps of his king approach. Odin came to stand beside the gatekeeper silently. Heimdall didn't have to turn to see deep weariness and sorrow in the lines of his face.

"How are they?" Odin asked quietly.

"By the order of you and the council, I am forbidden from turning my gaze upon Midgard," the gatekeeper replied stoically.

"That order was not made by my wish," Odin reminded him. "And this would not be the first time you have disregarded a command, my friend."

Heimdall accepted the statement with a small, rare, smile. "Your sons remain in the company of the Midgard heroes. Loki is safe from further retribution from the Chitauri leaders at this time."

Odin knew him too well to let it stand at that. "But?"

"He is gravely ill."

Odin passed his hand over his eyes. "And Thor?"

"Is angry and desperate. He feels as though Asgard had abandoned him and his brother."

Heimdall watched as the prince of Asgard continued to rage at him. If only he knew what was happening in his home realm... No, it would just feed his anger to know that Odin's refusal to sentence Loki to death had lead to murmurings in secret conversations, questioning the king's ability to rule.

"And so we have." Odin sighed, his shoulders stooping with the burdens of leadership and fatherhood. "Has the entire realm forgotten the things Loki has done?"

"I remember many things. I remember nearly meeting death by his hand," Heimdall replied mildly. "Have you forgotten that?"

"No, my old friend, though I wish I could," Odin put his hand on the gatekeeper's shoulder. "I remember the evil my son has done. But I also remember the good. Do you? Do you remember the battles he fought alongside his brother for the sake of Asgard?"

"I remember."

"Then you are one of the few that do," Odin replied bitterly.

"The people are angry. They will not be satisfied until the betrayal they feel has been rectified. You know that better than I."

Odin's gaze sharpened and hardened. "I will not allow my son to die."

"He is dying," Heimdall replied softly. "He grows closer to death every day. The humans search for a cure, but his illness is caused by magic. Only the nectar of Yggdrasill can save him now."

"And the council will never allow such a thing." Odin blinked, but Heimdall could see the moisture in his eye. "What power does a king have if he cannot save his own son?"

#

Pepper was falling asleep in the chair when Bruce looked in on Loki again. He checked over the various machines and IVs that were hooked to and stuck in Loki. The demigod was getting notably thinner. Thankfully, at the moment his eyes were closed. He didn't much sleep anymore.

"How long has he been sleeping?" Bruce muttered to Pepper as she stood up and rubbed her eyes.

"Maybe ten minutes," she replied, putting a book on Norse mythology down on the nightstand. "Bruce, he's getting worse."

"I know. SHEILD is still sending me stuff, but all I can really do is experiment and see if anything helps." Bruce's brow furrowed. "You go have a rest. I'll stay with him."

Pepper hesitated a moment, and then nodded. "Have JARVIS call me if you need me."

"Will do."

Bruce settled down in the chair as Pepper left. He stared at the medical equipment and really wished that he had more knowledge of sicknesses and diseases. He had studied enough to know a cold from a flu, but this was so far out of his league he was almost surprised that he hadn't accidently killed Loki already.

Bruce sighed, reaching into the small bag that he had brought with him. When he looked up, Loki's eyes were open and staring at him. Bruce startled.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he said.

"Wasn't asleep. Pepper needed rest."

"How are you feeling?"

Loki rolled his eyes. "Seriously?"

Bruce managed a small smile. "Yeah. Stupid question."

"One of the-" Loki cut off, gritting his teeth. "One of the stupidest."

Bruce looked away for a moment, so that he had time to work out the lump in his throat. "Look, I thought you might want this back."

He held out the item that he had brought with him.

Loki's brow furrowed as he reached for it. "How did you get this?

It was the book that Loki had fought the Avengers over more than a year ago. The demigod caressed the binding, tracing the gold filigree with his fingers.

"I took it out of the garbage. Thought that even though you threw it out, if was important to you and you'd regret it eventually."

"You took it out." With a somewhat embarrassed expression, he pulled the book in close to his heart. "I looked for it, later. I thought that Thor... Well, honestly I thought that Thor burned it. He gave it to me when we were children. Mother taught me to read with it."

"Thor told us."

Loki hugged the book closer to his body. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"The antibiotics aren't working."

It was more of a statement than a question. Bruce nodded anyway, and repeated the words he had been saying for days. "We're going to try a more aggressive approach."

"It won't work."

"Do you have to be so fatalistic?"

A ghost of a smile twitched Loki's lips. "I lack conviction. It's in my nature."

Bruce frowned. "Who told you that?"

Loki looked back down at the book. "A very wise man who died for nothing. Who I killed for nothing."

#

Clint slammed the lid of his laptop shut. He had seen the footage of Coulson's death on the helicarrier. He knew who Loki was talking about.

It wasn't as satisfying as he thought it would be, watching Loki die. It was all Thor's fault. Thor, with his unfailing devotion. Thor, with his growing desperation and sorrow. Clint wished that he had a brother who would have looked out for him like Thor looked after Loki – No, he wished that he had been able to be that brother. But he hadn't been.

Clint rested his head in his hands and sighed, feeling tears burn his eyes. Wishes were nothing.

#

Steve sat at the table, cradling a mug of coffee in his hands. The team hadn't left for any missions for a while. Since Loki had gotten the infection, Steve realised. Banner and Thor both were constantly at the tower, Barton hardly left his room, Stark hardly left his workshop, Miss Potts rarely smiled anymore, and Steve didn't even know how he was feeling. He had only seen Loki a few times, but in those few times it was difficult for him to reconcile the image of the dying toddler to the man who had tried to take over the world, and he didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

He looked up briefly as Romanoff sat across from him. Her expression was much the same as his.

"Funny, isn't it?" she remarked softly.

"What is?"

"How your opinion of somebody can change when they're dying."

Steve sipped at his coffee. It was cold. How long had he been sitting here? "I guess."

"Fury called."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought it was a bad time."

Steve had to admit she was right. This was one time when he didn't want to be talking to Fury. It was one time that he wanted to forget about his duties as Captain America and go back in time, when things were simpler. Steve sighed. What he wanted was irrelevant. What he needed to do was what was important.

"What did he want?"

Natasha sat down. "To know what sort of funeral arrangements we needed to organize, for Thor's sake."

Steve sighed again and rested his head in his hands. "How's Barton doing?" The words came out more accusatory than he intended, and he shook his head. "I didn't mean it like that."

"I know. But that's how everybody is feeling, Cap. He's as well as can be expected, I suppose." Romanoff looked down at her hands for a long moment. "He hasn't been talking to me."

Steve frowned. "That doesn't sound good."

"It's not. I'm worried about him. I've never seen him like this before."

"What do we need to do?"

Natasha was silent for a long time, and that made Steve's frown deepen. "I don't know," she said at last. "I really don't know. And Steve? That scares me."

#

Loki tried not to allow tears of agony form in his eyes. The pain was a constant, duller at times, but always there. He could feel the infection raging in his body, causing the fever to burn and a coat of sweat to cover him at all times. He couldn't eat. He couldn't sleep. Even if he had strength of will remaining, it would not have been enough to fight. He could feel his body succumbing to the infection day by day.

He looked up at Thor, who was gently washing the sweat from his frail, fevered body with a cool cloth. Loki hated being so weak, so helpless. He hated being so dependent on the kindness of others. He hated that, even now, he could not accept Thor's pleas to accept him as a brother again.

"Thor," he whispered hoarsely.

Thor stopped, looking up at him. "Yes, brother?"

"Make it stop."

Thor's hand cupped Loki's face tenderly. "I wish I could."

"You can."

Loki saw the understanding, disbelief and panic slowly seep into Thor's eyes as the weight of his words became apparent. The older demigod pulled away. "No."

"I am dying anyway."

"Loki, no!" Thor exclaimed. "The new antibiotics Dr Banner has procured will work. You will be healed."

"We both know that I won't," Loki said softly. "If these human medications were going to work, they would have done so already. Magic is beyond them."

Thor sank into the chair, and then lowered his head to rest on the bed beside Loki. He was very, very still. Loki waited. He would never understand Thor. After everything, how could he still care?

A flash of pain seared through him and he gritted his teeth to keep it at bay. After several seconds it faded, and Loki reached out to touch Thor's hand.

"Don't make me ask Romanoff."

Thor raised his head. His expression was devastated, but his face was dry. "If these new antibiotics don't work, then..." he trailed off, his voice broken.

Loki nodded, accepting the condition. "Three days."

"Loki-"

"Three days," Loki repeated, firmer this time.

A tear rolled down Thor's cheek, and he nodded.

Loki closed his eyes. "Thank you."

"I-"

Loki opened his eyes again, and looked up at Thor. The older demigod seemed on the brink of saying something. What, Loki didn't know.

"I will get Miss Potts to come sit with you for a bit while I... go do something," Thor finished lamely, not looking at Loki.

Loki recognised the guilt and anger in Thor's blue eyes. Stark tower would no doubt see some destruction. He wanted to tell Thor not to leave, but there was still that stubborn pride buried inside of him that refused to ask comfort from the man who had once been his brother. So instead he nodded, and remained silent as Thor left.

Chapter Text

Even on Asgard there were few things that Thor could take his full anger and strength out on without breaking. As for Stark tower, there was nothing.

He didn't care.

He had first gone after the punching bags. After they all burst, he took the weights and crushed them, then twisted the bars into pretzels. When that proved not enough to quell the emotion burning in his chest, he considered picking a fight with Banner to bring out the Hulk, a warrior who certainly challenged his strength. He instantly discarded the idea, disgusted with himself.

"Thor?"

Thor looked up to see Barton cautiously approaching. Captain Rogers' shield was slung over his shoulder. The warrior glanced at the destruction, his expression fairly impassive. Thor remained silent as he approached.

If the archer didn't watch his tongue, he might well lose it.

"I thought you might want to beat up something that won't break," Barton said, slinging the shield off his shoulder.

Thor nodded at a twisted heap of metal and plastic that had once been an elliptical machine, and Barton tossed the shield on the pile. Thor summoned Mjölnir and struck the star once. Stupid thing didn't move. He looked back up at Barton.

"Does Captain Rogers know you have this?"

"Nope."

"You heard my promise to Loki."

Barton nodded. "I heard."

Thor turned his back and struck the shield again, hard enough that it jarred his arm. "Are you finally happy?" he spat over his shoulder.

"No," the archer replied calmly. "I'm not happy."

"No?"

"I'm not enjoying this, Thor." Barton shook his head, and Thor thought he was telling the truth. "He deserves it, and that, maybe, gives me some satisfaction, but only that justice is being served."

Thor's grip on Mjölnir tightened.

"I'm not big on torture, and even if I was, you don't deserve this. I can't for the life of me figure out why you still care about him so much. Not after everything he's done. But just because I don't understand doesn't mean that you should have to watch your brother die."

Thor dropped the hammer and picked up the Captain America shield. "I need my brother, Agent Barton. I always have. Perhaps if I had told him before this... Perhaps all of our lives would have been different."

"Maybe. Maybe not. I don't care how much he whines about being hard done by. He's lucky to have you and your family."

Thor's brow knit.

"He doesn't have any excuses," Barton continued, and he was suddenly angry. "I never had anybody in my life like you. He did. He has a family who still loves him no matter how stupid it is to keep loving him. My father's way of saying that he loved me was giving me a black eye instead of a broken bone, and that's the least of what he did. So Loki can say that he was denied too much, but that's only because he's too blind to see what he did have."

Thor sat down, resting the shield on his knees. He didn't know what to say.

"You want to know why I hate him so much?" Barton asked, and his voice grew low.

Thor glanced at him, but the warrior's gaze was fixed on the floor.

"Everything that I did while under control of that sceptre – everyone I killed, I could have killed just as easily if I had been in my own mind."

How many people have I killed? Thor wondered. Why does one life feel heavier than all of them?

"If he was anyone but my brother, I would say that you deserved whatever revenge you saw fit. But he is my brother, and I... I never-" Thor cut off. I never once imagined that we would end like this. I never thought we could be enemies. I never stopped loving him. Tears burned his eyes.

"If he was anyone but your brother, he would be dead already. Natasha once told me that Loki was the villain in all of us. I don't know about that. But-" Barton put his hand on Thor's shoulder. "You don't deserve this."

Thor nodded to acknowledge him, but didn't reply. After a moment's silence, Barton left the gym. Thor stood, flung the shield onto the debris again, and started pounding it with all his futile strength.

#

Tony downed a large glass of scotch far quicker than he should have. It wasn't enough, so poured himself another glass. He slumped back in his chair, trying to silence the thoughts in his head.

-Sir, you need to stop drinking.-

"I know," Tony sighed. "It's just with everything that's happening, I don't know what else to do."

He tipped back the cup again.

-If the Chitauri attack while you are drunk, how are you supposed to help your friends?- JARVIS asked pointedly.

Tony rolled his eyes, but poured his drink back into the bottle. "Pepper's in pieces about Loki," he murmured. "You know what? I really do think she was starting to want one. It's just too bad that he had to be an evil murdering psychopath. We could have adopted him and been one big happy family."

-Sir, how much did you have to drink before returning to Stark tower?-

"Nothing. I'm just talking, JARVIS." Tony stood and walked to the window. "You know what? I feel sorry for him. Infection is a painful way to die." He touched his neck, remembering.

-Indeed it is.-

"But I don't want to feel sorry for him. He hurt Pepper, he hurt you. He killed Coulson. He tried to take over the planet. Somebody like that doesn't deserve any sympathy, does he?"

-Probably not, sir.-

Tony nodded, but he felt no better. Would more scotch? "The problem is that he's so little. That's all. If he was full-grown none of us would have any problems watching him die slowly. Except maybe Thor. And Pepper. She still would be sick over it. But he's not full-grown; he looks like a kid – a toddler. He might as well be a baby! A baby with the mind of an evil murdering psychopath, but still a baby. It just feels wrong to let him die."

-Dr Banner is trying everything he can.-

"Is it going to be enough?"

-I cannot say.-

"If he didn't look like a kid..." Tony murmured. "We wouldn't care. What does that make us, JARVIS?"

-Human.-

"Is that was being human means?" the billionaire laughed bitterly, and walked back to the table. He picked up the scotch– to put it away, of course – and took one last swig direct from the bottle.

-Sir, it will just upset Miss Potts more if-

"I'm putting it away." Tony took the scotch back to the cupboard. It wasn't helping, anyway. Maybe whiskey would... Probably not. "Jay, have you found anything that might suggest magic on earth?"

-No, sir.-

"Anything about the Chitauri?"

-No.-

"From Fury?"

-No.-

"That's what I thought," Tony muttered, slumping against the cool countertop. He was silent for a long time. "JARVIS, given how quickly Loki is deteriorating, how much longer do you think he'll live?"

-I cannot say for certain, sir. That depends on...-

"Depends on what?"

-I would rather not say.-

Tony frowned. "Would rather not say what?"

-Please. This is a matter that should remain between Thor and his brother.-

Tony's frown deepened. "What does that mean?" he asked, but JARVIS wouldn't reply.

#

"Dr Banner."

Bruce turned from the machines he was staring blankly at. Loki's voice was soft, hitched with pain, but he returned the doctor's gaze steadily.

"If it is possible, I would like some painkillers now."

No. Bruce's shoulders sagged. That request could only mean one thing. Loki was no longer worried about a relapse or new drug addiction. He didn't think it was a possibility. Because he wasn't going to be around long enough for it to happen. Bruce sank into the chair. What could he say?

"It hasn't been long enough to know if the new antibiotics are working yet."

Loki stared back at him, his green eyes guarded. "Please."

Bruce couldn't look at him anymore. He nodded slowly. "Yes. Of course. I'll get some-" his voice caught. "Some morphine or something."

"Thank you, Dr Banner."

"Look, Loki, you can't give up," Bruce said firmly, locking gazes with the little demigod again. "Magic or no magic, the Avengers have proven that we're more resourceful than you give us credit for."

"Dr Banner, I don't have anything left to give up."

"Yes, you do. There are people here who care about you."

"Are there?"

"Yes."

Loki searched Bruce's face, picking at the heart-shaped band-aid on his bicep. "I don't understand that."

"Whether you understand or not, it doesn't matter," Bruce replied firmly. "It's the truth. Thor cares. Pepper cares. I care."

"Will you mourn for me?"

Bruce was shocked into silence. How could he answer? If he said yes, then it would be as good as saying that he had given up. If he said no, whatever had been built between them would be gone, even if Bruce meant it as though he refused to accept Loki's impending death. And Loki's intense gaze demanded an answer.

"Yes."

A look that could almost be described as peace came over Loki's face. "Thank you."

Bruce didn't know how to reply.

Loki's gaze turned to the ceiling. "This has been a long time coming, doctor. Everybody dies. The lucky ones have someone who will weep for them."

#

Natasha poured boiling water through the mint tea leaves and then took the cup to Pepper. The other woman sat on the sofa in the pent suite, a box of tissues on her lap and a mountain of them overflowing the nearby garbage can. Could anybody really cry that much? Natasha wouldn't have believed it was possible, except she saw it herself.

"Thank you," Pepper accepted the tea, and cradled it close to her face. "I don't know why I'm such a mess. I know what he's done."

"I know," Natasha said gently. "But it's okay, Pepper. You're a compassionate person."

"Sometimes I wish I wasn't. Number twenty-two on my 'reasons it'd be nice to be an assassin' list is 'ability not to cry over everything.'"

"Number one on my 'reasons I wish I wasn't an assassin' list is ability to cry."

Pepper's eyebrows knit.

Natasha shrugged. "I'm a great con, Pepper."

"What do you mean by that?"

"It means that you're sincere in what you say and do. I act a part more than anything else. Like now- I'm pretending that Loki's condition isn't affecting me as much as it really is. I'm pretending that I don't hate him as much as I do. I'm pretending that it doesn't bother me that I have this mask that I can't take off, not with anyone."

"Not even with Clint?" Pepper asked shrewdly.

Natasha smiled wryly and spread her hands. "I trust Clint more than I trust myself. That doesn't mean that I'm always completely honest with him."

Or that he's completely honest with me.

Pepper wiped her eyes again. "How is he doing with all this?"

He's more conflicted that anybody knows, Natasha wanted to reply. Pepper wasn't alone in thinking that Clint was over the moon with the recent turn of events. He was more conflicted than even he knew, if Natasha was right. But she wasn't going to betray his trust by telling anybody that, sorry Pepper. Even though he hadn't spoken more than five words to her in over a week.

"He has more reason to hate Loki than the rest of us," she said instead.

"That doesn't answer my question."

"Pepper, we all have our own difficulties."

Pepper snorted, but it sounded more like a sob. "Yeah. Some of us cry over people who nearly killed us and others don't."

"He never meant to hurt you. You know that."

"I know."

Natasha put a comforting hand on Pepper's shoulder.

"You know how they say that the path to hell is paved with good intentions? I don't get it. There are no shortage of bad intentions. If the path is paved with good intentions, does that mean the bad intentions are the guardrails or gates that snap tight behind you?" Pepper asked, trying to stifle a new sob. She took a sip of her tea.

"I don't know."

"It seemed, lately, that he was getting better. He wasn't so angry anymore."

"I know," Natasha said softly, and then hesitated. She hated talking about herself, hated opening the box and releasing information that could destroy her. But it helped. Sometimes it was as much for her benefit as it was for the person with whom she was speaking. With that, she carefully pried off that mental lid. "When I first joined SHEILD, Phil told me that the path to hell is the same path to redemption." She took a deep breath. Why was she feeling like she was revealing a secret? "Loki has been living in hell for a long time now. It seemed to me that he was on the path to redemption."

"It's too late now."

"I'd like to think that it's never too late, for any of us."

-Miss Potts, Loki wishes to see you.-

Natasha glanced up in surprise. Loki asking to see Pepper? Did that mean that Thor was the one who was sitting with him again, and Loki was refusing his help- No. If that had been the case, JARVIS would have asked for her on Thor's behalf. So what did Loki want?

To say goodbye. Natasha looked at the floor. Loki wanted to say goodbye to one of the few people he knew cared about him.

Pepper closed her eyes, and breathed deeply. "Tell him I'll be there in a bit."

-As you wish.-

Pepper wiped her eyes again. "I guess I'd better go wash my face."

"Pepper, for the record, I'm not happy that he's dying."

"But you're not sad, either."

"No," Natasha lied after a moment. "I'm not."

Chapter Text

Pepper avoided the mirror as she washed her face, but even so she knew that reapplying her makeup was a useless gesture. Her nose was tomato paste red as it always was when she cried, and her eyes were marshmallow-like they were so puffy.

She tried anyway.

As she settled into the routine, she began to calm. Calm was good. She didn't want to be an absolute mess with Loki. She didn't want him to see her that vulnerable, and she didn't want him to think that she had given up.

All the calm she had managed to grasp threatened to shatter when she entered Loki's room. He was lying on his side, shivering with the fever, thin and sweating, like he always was lately. Pepper took a deep breath to steel herself and then walked around the bed.

She nodded in greeting to Bruce, who stood from the chair. "Call me if anything changes," he murmured, squeezing her hand briefly, before leaving the two alone.

"You've been crying," Loki said to the red of her eyes.

Pepper sat. "I was watching The Ultimate Gift."

Loki's lips twitched, not in a smile but something indecipherable "All right."

"JARVIS said you wanted to see me."

"I-" Loki tensed, biting his lip and whimpering.

Pepper leaned forward, but there was nothing she could do to help.

After a moment, Loki took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "I wanted to tell you that... I am... I didn't mean..."

Pepper felt tears trying to form in her eyes again. She blinked uselessly.

"I am sorry, Pepper. For hurting you when I escaped. I did not mean to. I... was scared. Because you were so kind to me, and I could not understand why. I still don't understand why. I was afraid that if I accepted that you were being kind simply for the sake of being kind, you would turn that against me, and... I was afraid of being hurt like that again. I have had many painful lessons about the dangers of trust. And I had started to trust you."

Pepper stopped fighting her tears. It didn't matter if he thought she had given up hope. He already had. It was the only reason he'd be saying any of this.

"I-" she stopped when she heard the tears in her voice. She stroked his dark hair back from his clammy forehead, and on impulse she leaned over and kissed his forehead. "I know you didn't mean to hurt me."

Loki looked at her. Unshed tears distorted her reflection like a soft breeze disturbing a pond. "You remind me of my mother," he said softly. "I wish she was here."

Pepper tried to smile. "I'm sure she does, too."

"Maybe. I've done terrible things, Pepper. Unforgivable things. I deserve this. I deserve to go to hell."

A sob choked Pepper. "Everybody deserves a chance at redemption, Loki."

"You gave me that chance. I wasted it. Fair's fair," Loki replied, and the slight tremble in his voice betrayed the nonchalant way he had spoken. He frowned at the tears that rolled down her cheeks. "Would you be crying if I didn't look like a child?"

Pepper didn't know how to answer. Would she?

Loki sighed, looking tired, desolate, thin and beaten. "Please leave now, Miss Potts, and don't visit me again."

#

Thor gently helped Loki sit, holding a cup to his lips. Loki sipped at the water, but grimaced as he swallowed and shook his head.

"I don't want any," he said, his voice hoarse and weak.

"Loki, please."

Loki looked up at Thor with an expression of annoyed longsuffering and managed to take another sip of the water.

He had visibly grown worse over the past three days, since Thor had made his promise to end the pain. And there was no need to see Banner's worried expression, or hear him saying that they needed to develop an even more aggressive treatment to know that Loki would soon demand that promise be held. He could hardly move for the pain anymore, despite the painkillers that Banner had procured.

Thor had told nobody about the promise that he had made, but he sensed that the others, somehow, suspected. Their conversations with him, the gentle way they spoke, slightly probing, told him that they knew, deep down, even if it wasn't conscious knowledge.. Banner had even hidden all the drugs, those he used to treat Loki and otherwise. He hadn't given a concrete reason as to why, but Thor knew that the doctor was afraid that Thor would do exactly what he was going to do.

Had Barton told them?

"Thor?"

Thor felt Loki tense. He looked up and saw Barton standing in the doorway. The archer held his hands behind his back and was careful not to look at Loki.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?"

Thor shook his head. He wanted nothing to do with that man right now. "Perhaps later-"

"Thor, this can't wait."

"Agent Barton-"

"I don't want him here," Loki murmured.

Thor lowered Loki back down. He promised to be quick and then joined Barton in the corridor. They took a few steps to the side to stay out of Loki's view.

"What is it?"

The archer held out an orange bottle of small pills.

Thor looked at him questioningly.

"Sleeping pills," Barton explained. "Give him these, and he'll just go to sleep. I tried to find where Banner hid the morphine, but he's smarter than he looks."

Thor fought against the tears in his eyes as he accepted the bottle. "Did you tell them?" he asked, because he had to be certain.

"No. I wouldn't do that." Barton put a comforting hand on Thor's shoulder. "I'll keep everyone off the floor for as long as you need me to."

Thor turned the tiny bottle over in his hands. It seemed heavier than Mjölnir. How could he have agreed to this? "Three hours."

"I'll get you five."

Thor nodded his thanks, but didn't trust himself to speak. Barton left, and Thor rejoined his brother. Loki's face was pale, but the fever had flushed red into his cheeks, and his eyes were bright. He stared accusingly at Thor.

"You told Barton?"

"No. He overheard us." Thor's heart was heavy and his voice shook with emotion. He set the little orange bottle on the table.

Loki's gaze lingered on it. "Sleeping pills?"

Thor nodded.

After a moment of consideration, Loki nodded as well. "How much time do we have?"

"Five hours."

"Five hours," Loki repeated softly. "Yes, that should be enough. Can you take these out of me?"

Thor moved slowly as he complied to Loki's request, gently disconnecting the various machines and IVs that Banner had set up. He had promised himself that he would be strong for his brother, but his resolution was fast dissipating. "Loki-"

"Bottom drawer of the nightstand."

"What?"

"Look in the bottom drawer of the nightstand," Loki said. "Beneath all those infernal children's cartoons that Stark insisted on buying."

Thor's brows knitted, but he did as Loki asked. Underneath a stack of DVDs was the black leather book that Loki had thrown into the garbage all those long months ago. Thor picked it up gently, rubbing his thumb over the gold filigree.

"How did you get this? I looked for it, but-"

"Dr Banner kept it," he muttered softly, and then his bright green eyes met Thor's. "Will you read to me first?"

Thor cupped Loki's tiny, pale face in his hand. On impulse, he slid his arms underneath the tiny toddler body. Picking him up gently, he eased himself onto the bed. He settled back, cradling Loki against his chest the way their parents used to cradle them both when they were young. He wondered if Loki would protest, but the younger demigod rested his head against his brother's shoulder with a soft, shaky sigh. Thor knew that had Loki appeared even a few years older, he would have never attempted this and Loki would never have allowed it.

Loki's gaze flickered to the pills sitting on the table. Thor's did as well. He hated the sight almost as much as he hated his own futility.

"Could you read the story of the three rings?" Loki asked after a moment.

Thor frowned. "You hate that story."

"I love it. I always pretended to hate it because I knew you would mock me if you knew how much I loved it. It really is beautiful."

Thor chuckled, but there was no humour in the sound, only sadness. "I would have only mocked you to cover up how much I love it myself."

Would he even be able to speak? Thor opened the book. The words, written in a flowing cursive script amid brightly illuminated pictures, swam before his eyes. He could feel Loki's heartbeat; it was fast and hard. Loki's body trembled and Thor knew that he was afraid. His brother was afraid, but would never admit it, and there was nothing he could do about it. Thor was afraid, too. Afraid that he would lose his brother forever.

"Loki, I'm sorry," he said softly.

"It's not your fault."

"I don't mean the infection, I mean-"

"I know what you mean," Loki interrupted, and looked up at him. He held the older demigod's gaze steadily. "It's not your fault, Thor. None of it is."

#

Pepper sat at her desk in Stark industries staring at the computer but not seeing anything. Her shoulders hitched forward and she wrapped her arms around herself, but she still felt cold all the way through her body. Her eyes stung and burned, but she hadn't cried since she'd visited Loki. She hadn't cried since her last visit with Loki. As he had asked, she had not visited him again. Many times she had been on the verge of visiting him, but something always held her back.

That morning, she had made up her mind that she was going to go to the little demigod again and give him a good talking to about not giving up, but Barton had found her first. He had managed to convince her that she should go to the office for something – she couldn't even remember what it was now.

"Excuse me?"

Pepper looked up in surprise. She hadn't heard the door open. A middle-aged woman stood in front of her desk, hands clasped lightly. She had light brown hair that was braided down her back, and she wore an elegant-looking blouse and slacks. She didn't appear to be very comfortable. A strange leather purse etched with the image of a tree hung from her shoulder.

Pepper was in no mood for strange visitors, well dressed or not. "Can I help you?"

"You are Miss Virginia Potts?" the woman asked.

Why would anyone ask that? Pepper glanced at the door- yes, she was in her office, she wasn't distracted to the point she'd returned to the wrong room.

She wouldn't hide her suspicion: "And you are?"

The woman smiled reassuringly. "I am Frigga. Mother of Thor and Loki."

#

""The three rings must not be found by the shadow," the silver-gold queen of the forest said, gazing first at the wizard and then at her young daughter's husband..." Thor read, his voice cracking at the end of every sentence.

Loki leaned against Thor's shoulder, his eyes closed, listening to the familiar words. He concentrated on them, trying to silence his fears. Thor was with him. Thor won't leave me. He wouldn't die alone. I won't die unloved... There are people who do care, people who will mourn for me, when the end comes... But I just want Thor with me. I don't want to see them and wonder if it's just because I look like a child that they care. Thor cares. Thor cares because I'm his brother.

I'm his brother.

I don't want to die.

Chapter Text

Clint stood guard between the elevator and the entrance to the stairwell. Thor needed time, and Clint was willing to move heaven and earth to make it so. He had managed to get everybody out of the tower, no matter how reluctant they had been to leave. Banner and Pepper were especially difficult. Natasha was the easiest. She probably knew what was happening. She had even helped a little, but the look she gave him told him that she expected to talk when this was over. And he would.

Once Loki was dead and the nightmares stopped.

For the moment, however, it was his job to make sure everybody stayed out of the tower. He had promised Thor five hours, but he was going to try to give him more than that. The god of thunder would need time to mourn for his brother, to get himself under control, before facing any questions. And questions there would be. Clint didn't know much about family ties, but Thor was his teammate and as such deserved respect for his feelings.

The doors opened and all Clint's plans said "Sayonara" and happily hopped into the toilet: Potts came striding into the corridor, but this wasn't the usual Pepper. This was Pepper on a mission. Pepper on a mission was an unstoppable force of nature. She headed to the elevators, and he stepped in front of her.

"Clint, I respect you too much to treat you like an average security guard," she said. He didn't move, and she came to a stop. As did the woman following her. She was older, lovely even on the brink of grief.

"Who's that?" he asked Pepper without a preliminary greeting.

"Frigga, Thor and Loki's mother," Potts replied.

Clint didn't know what to say or think for a moment. His gaze turned to the woman again. She returned the gaze. Sadness was deep in her eyes. Clint couldn't take it, and he stepped to one side. "You'd better hurry," he said softly.

Potts's brow furrowed. "What do you-"

"Just go," Clint interrupted, looking at the floor. Frustration and anger welled up, and he viciously suppressed it until Potts and Thor's mother hurried into the elevator.

Clint kicked and punched at the wall before forcing himself to stop and bottle his emotions back inside a calm exterior. Why was it every time he thought he would see justice done, something else would happen? There really was only one reason that Thor's mother would suddenly appear on earth. That Heimdall guy that Thor had told them about must have seen what was happening, and she was sent to heal Loki. It was the only explanation.

He couldn't even enjoy the thought that Thor may have well ended Loki's life already. That would be justice. Loki deserved it. He deserved a much more painful death. He deserved to feel every bit of agony he had caused to the world. But Clint couldn't even hope that it was already done. Because when he looked into Frigga's eyes, he saw a mother whose heartbreak was deeper than he could fathom.

Family ties, he thought bitterly, and then; Ah, snap!

He bolted up the stairs, running as quickly as he could. By the time he got to the guest floor he was panting, and Potts and Frigga were halfway down the hallway. Clint sprinted after them and caught Pepper's arm.

"What-?" she started.

"Sorry, I just have to talk to you."

Potts' brow furrowed. "Clint, now's not-"

"I have to talk to you," Clint said forcefully. He turned to Frigga. "Third door to the right."

"Clint!" Potts protested as the archer dragged her back down the hall. "What are you doing."

"Listen," Clint started, but didn't know how to proceed. Potts folded her arms and gave him a look that he had seen him give Stark. How the heck did she look so dang intimidating? "This isn't going to be easy... Maybe we should call in the others, so that I can explain all at once..."

Potts's expression became worried. "What is this about? Is Loki-" she went to step around him, but he blocked her.

"JARVIS?"

-Loki is fine as far as I can tell, Miss Potts. I have recalled the Avengers, Agent Barton. I suggest that you convene in the lobby to explain.-

Clint pinched the bridge of his nose. So instead of Thor facing the questions, it was going to be him. "Thanks," he muttered. "Come on, Pepper. I'll tell you everything I know."

#

I don't want to die.

Loki glanced at the clock. It had been two hours since Thor had begun to read to him from the story book of their shared childhood. Barton had only promised them five. Loki wondered if the assassin would actually give them that much time. Maybe. Barton was obviously afraid of what Thor could do to him.

Or was something other than fear that lead the assassin to his actions? Respect? Perhaps even friendship? Loki didn't know. It had been a long time since he had been able to call anybody a friend.

The pain in Loki's spine had been steadily getting worse since Thor had removed the IVs, and he closed his eyes. His whole body trembled. The fever was burning him, making it hard to think clearly. He could feel his heart thundering in his chest. Why did his body always betray him? He didn't want Thor to know how afraid he was. But the fear was nothing next to the pain and the spiraling deterioration. He could not take that any longer. It was going to happen, and waiting for the end frightened him more than the end itself.

Thor finished the story he was reading, and quickly turned the page to start the next one.

"Thor."

Thor fell silent.

"It's time."

Thor let out a long, shaky sigh. With sloth-like movements, he closed the book and reached for the bottle of sleeping pills sitting on the table. The movement was enough to jostle Loki and make him clamp his teeth down on his cheek hard to keep from crying out. It didn't work. Agony blinded Loki for a moment, and the deep breaths that he would normally have taken to calm his system just made it worse.

Thor's massive hand closed around the pill bottle, tightening until Loki thought that orange plastic would break. "Loki, please, can't we find another way-"

"There is no other ending to this, Thor," Loki interrupted quietly. "Would you rather see me descend farther into the pain until I can no longer recognise my own thoughts?"

"I would rather there be other options."

"Don't. Just don't."

There was a small part of Loki that wanted to be happy that at least he was causing Thor, the Mighty God of Thunder, pain. But the larger part of him was sorrowful. What could his life have been if he hadn't been so envious, so angry? He had lost his family to his pride, and now he would lose his life. It was no less than he deserved, he knew that. Perhaps that is why he was so afraid.

"I love you, brother," Thor murmured, twisting open the bottle.

"You're an idiot."

"I always have been. I know that. I always counted on your advice, Loki. I should have told you from the start. But I thought that a true warrior never admitted that he needed help... never admitted how inadequate he felt..."

Loki didn't want to feel the pang of pain that had nothing to do with the magical infection raging in his body. "Shut up," he muttered, but his heart wasn't in it. "You never needed me, Thor."

"Yes, I did."

"No, not really."

"Yes, brother, I did. I always did. I never once imagined that I would be king without you beside me, to keep my arrogance in check."

Before Loki could reply, he heard a voice. It stopped him, and he knew that the fever had gone too far. It was his mother's voice, and when he looked up, she was standing in the doorway. She wore Midgard clothing, but it was his mother. He'd wanted to see her more than anything else in all the nine realms, and she had come. . For a moment he was grateful to the infection and fever. If he could see his mother, even in hallucination, before he died then it would not be so hard.

"Oh, my sons," she murmured, rushing forward.

Her embrace felt shockingly real. Loki closed his eyes. He smelled cinnamon and lavender and he was right back to every single time she'd held him, as an infant or a child or an uncoordinated lanky young adult.

"Mother," Thor said, sounding surprised. "How-"

"All will be answered," Frigga said , reaching into a small bag that hung from her shoulder.

Loki remained silent, watching her. He didn't know what to think. He couldn't dare hope that she was real, but never had he hallucinated so vividly, and never with this infection. But if she was real... why had she come? Why now? He felt tears blur his gaze, but they simply sat in his eyes, not falling. Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out and touched his mother's arm, just to make sure it was true.

"Mother?" he whispered.

Frigga pulled a small vial from the bag. It was tiny and made of clear glass, shaped delicately like the bud of a leaf ready to burst into the world. The sculpture was so full of life it even gleamed with a soft, green light like sunbeams peaking through a forest canopy.

"Loki, you must drink this," Frigga said, unstopping the vial. She brought it to his lips, but he pressed himself back against Thor, grinding the flesh of his cheek between his teeth against the pain.

"Are you really here?" Loki whispered, staring at Frigga's face, not letting himself dare hope. Hope had only ever betrayed him. Hadn't it?

"I'm here, Loki, I'm here," she brushed the damp hair from his forehead. "You must drink this. It is the nectar of the world's tree and will heal you."

Loki looked at the glowing green vial. "But- why?"

"Loki, drink," Frigga urged gently.

"The council wouldn't have-"

"Drink."

Loki allowed her to tip the liquid into his mouth. It was sweet and bitter, hot and cold. It didn't flow- it plummeted down his throat and exploded throughout his body. His pupils dilated and he could see. He saw a million lives and a million deaths . He saw Asgard, he saw Earth, he saw things that he couldn't name. Sounds crammed into his ears; the screams of battle and childbirth, the songs of marriage and death, the music of the spheres. It was exhilarating and terrifying and painful and filling.

Loki jerked upright, gasping for breath as the sights and sounds and feelings overwhelmed him. He was distinctly aware of his mother on one side, Thor on the other, their worry and pain and fear and hope. But then they were rushed away in the mad river of sensing that drowned him. He collapsed and let the river take him away.

#

"Thor did what?"

Natasha sat to one side of the group, silent as Clint explained what he had known for the past three days. Pepper was on her feet, pacing back and forth, furious. Rogers and Banner were both leaning against the wall, and Stark was sitting on the floor, fingers laced over the back of his neck.

"He did what he thought was best," Clint said.

"That's not the point-" Pepper stopped and inhaled deeply. "All right. Let me make one thing clear, here. This is for all of you. I am tired of everyone deciding they are going to die and just giving up!"

Stark looked up. "Pep, that was years ago-"

"I'm not just talking about your palladium infection, Tony. You all put yourselves in dangerous situations, and I can't keep pretending that it doesn't bother me. What happens the next time when any of you are hurt and dying? Are you all just going to give up?" Pepper looked around at all of them. "Miracles do happen. But most of all, I am sick and tired of people keeping me in the dark about this kinda thing!"

Silence followed her words. Natasha ran her fingers through her hair and then stood. "You're right. We could all improve our communication." She caught Clint's eye. He turned away. "But for now, let's focus on the situation at hand. Frigga is here now, and Thor-"

"Thor could have said something," Pepper grumbled, sitting beside Stark. "And so could you, Clint."

"I had no right to tell you, and Thor was probably hoping that he wouldn't actually have to do it."

Pepper dug her palms into her eyes. Stark put his arm around her. She leaned against him.

Number forty-six; Ability to accept physical comfort from another person without keeping weapons within easy reach.

Natasha turned away.

"We need to talk with Thor," Steve said. "Well, as soon as he's ready-"

"I am ready now, Captain Rogers."

Natasha turned again. Thor stepped out of the elevator, giving them all a brief smile. His hair was pulled back, his eyes had dark circles under them, but his very being exuded relief. As he walked, there was a spring to his step that Natasha had never seen before.

"I'm sure you all have questions," Thor said. "And I will answer them as best I can. But before you do, I would like to explain a few things. I'm sure that Agent Barton told you about my promise to Loki..."

Chapter Text

Thor and Frigga sat on either side of Loki's bed, watching anxiously as he twitched in his sleep. His breathing alternated from deep, even breaths to short, shallow gasps.

Sometimes, Loki would stop breathing altogether.

Thor's heart would also grind to a halt. This is it, he thought, he's drawn his last breath.

And then Loki would suddenly suck in a huge breath and start the cycle over again.

"Will he heal?" Thor murmured, asking around the lump of his heart as it struggled to find its rythym (again).

"Yes. But it will take time." Frigga's tone spoke of tenderness, love, and sorrow.

Thor reached across the bed and took her hand. "What is happening back home? Why was Father so long in sending aid?"

Frigga tensed. "We could not move openly."

Thor's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Your father fights the council daily. Since he refused to sentence Loki according to their wishes, some have been led to question his ability to rule. They do not speak such things openly, but there is a great deal of discontent.""

"Is Njord among them?"

Frigga took her time replying. "No," she said finally, "Njord is ever loyal to your father, but he does not understand how his words impact others. You know how bitter a hate he has always had for Loki, but now... He speaks against letting a Jotünn live in Asgard," Frigga's words grew harsh and anger glittered in her eyes. "Hate has blinded him, made him forget that Loki belongs in Asgard, that he is her prince

"But you came."

A twinkle sparked to life in her gaze. "The council does not know that I am came. They certainly do not know that we collected the nectar of Yggdrasill to heal Loki."

Thor struggled to control his anger. "Does the Allfather have no more power then?"

"A king rules his subjects, but in turn is ruled by his subjects," Frigga replied softly. "The council insisted that Heimdall be forbidden to turn his gaze upon you here." She squeezed his hand. "Do not be angry with your father, Thor. He walks the blade of a knife, trying to protect Loki and appease the council. It is a terrible burden, to be forced to choose between the realm and his son."

Thor looked back at the tiny boy who was his brother. "No doubt that was Loki's plan, to punish him."

"Loki always was one to hold a grudge. He is very much like Odin in that way." Frigga carded her fingers through Loki's dark hair.

"I think of all the things I could have done different, Mother," Thor said softly. "How could I not see?"

"How could I not? It is a mother's duty to watch and care for her children. I did not watch him as I should have."

"Mother, of us all, you are the one who cared for him the most," Thor tried for comfort, but he could see in her eyes that he fell on deaf ears. However, he was never one to abandon a quest if the first strategy didn't work. "Agent Romanoff told me a long time ago that it is arrogance to lay the blame for Loki's actions on ourselves, because it takes his agency and choices away from him."

Frigga managed a smile at him. "It is that. But I still cannot help but wonder what would have happened had I..."

"I do as well." Thor took a breath. "Is it too late, Mother? I have tried to believe that it is not, but my heart grows heavier every day. Can he ever forgive me for what I have done? Can I forgive him?"

Frigga reached over and cupped his face with her hand. "Thor, you must never give up hope that your brother will return to us. Never. Because the moment you do, then it will be too late."

#

There were two states of Clint's being at this time. The first was a massive sheaf of SHIELD paperwork strewn across the kitchen table. The second was a horrible awful awareness of a green glint in the eye of a certain doctor. Even though Clint was nose-deep in the first, he wisely decided that the second was more important when Bruce sat down across from him.

"I'm gonna trust you have a good enough hold on the Other guy to avoid a transformation," said Clint and gestured to the spread of paper. "'Cause I think I just got this organized."

"Having a hold on the Other Guy isn't so much the issue here," said Banner. "He can tell you're anxious, and he's rather curious."

"So accidental transformations are a no-go?"

"There wouldn't be anything accidental about it."

"You found it?"

"A camera that led me straight to your computer? Yeah." Threats thinly veiled with a fake upbeat attitude. Lovely. "Do you have an explanation for that, Barton? Because I know you wouldn't be sneaking behind the team's back and-"

"I'm not going to let him escape again."

"Because he could do that so well when he could hardly move."

Clint leaned back in his chair. Yep, there was some definite green there, demanding an explanation. "I deactivated it, Banner."

Banner's brow creased. "When?"

"After- about three days before Frigga arrived." Clint tapped his pen against the top of the table. "I thought at first that he could be playing us."

"And after it became clear that he was not?"

"You know what he did to me."

Banner finally looked away. "Does Natasha know about this?"

"She wouldn't approve."

"So you've been lying to her, too."

"I didn't lie to anybody," Clint snapped. "You don't understand, Banner. You don't know what it's like, to be constantly plagued by memories that you can't quite grasp. I have nightmares every time I sleep and I don't know if they're real or not."

"I don't remember what happens when I transform. I've hurt people I care about," Banner replied swiftly. "I nearly killed the woman I love. I have nightmares, too."

"It's different for you."

"Yeah. If I lose control, I could kill all of you. You don't have to worry about the sceptre anymore. Quit feeling sorry for yourself."

If it had been anybody but Banner, they would have received a fist to the mouth for that.

But Clint didn't feel like having a 'conversation' with the Hulk. "I'm guessing that you didn't tell Thor about the camera?"

"And why do you guess that?"

"Because my head isn't smashed in."

Banner rolled his eyes. "No, I didn't tell Thor."

"What about the captain?"

"You know, this seems eerily similar to those scenes from movies or TV shows where the murderer makes sure his victim hasn't told anybody whatever incriminating evidence he's trying to hide before killing the person stupid enough to give them ample warning," Banner said suspiciously.

It was Clint's turn to roll his eyes. "I'm not going to try to kill you. Besides that being a completely stupid idea – for obvious reasons – you're my friend." He was silent for a moment. "Did you tell Rogers?"

"No," Banner replied after a moment. "I thought that this was something that we could settle privately."

"Thanks," Clint muttered. "I would rather avoid the stern scolding."

"Maybe you need one."

Clint looked hard at Banner and then groaned softly. "You're going to tell Natasha, aren't you?"

Banner tried not to smirk. "I thought about it, but no. This is something that you need to tell her."

Clint sighed. Telling Natasha would once have been a thing much easier to accomplish, but he had avoided her for so long... even her attempts to get him to talk to her had dwindled to almost nothing.

"But I've destroyed the camera," Bruce continued. "And your laptop. Just don't try to pull anything like this again, or I will tell both Natasha and Steve. And then I'll find embarrassing videos of you to load to youtube." He stood, looking much more calm and relaxed than he had when he entered. "Now, Clint, can you try to show a little faith in the rest of us? Please?"

Clint didn't respond. Banner left, and the assassin blew out his breath. He should have known that the camera was going to come back and bite him on the butt. It was true, what he had told Banner about deactivating it. But it wasn't the whole truth. Clint pulled his cellphone from his pocket, and scrolled through it briefly, looking at the thumbnail images of the video recordings he had made from the feed from the camera while it was still active.

-Agent Barton, how is it that I wasn't aware of these things? I monitor Loki at all times.-

Clint sighed and stuffed the phone back into his pocket. "I'm sorry, JARVIS."

-Did you disable me without my knowing, or did you erase me memory?- the AI asked, sounding as furious as Clint had ever heard.

"Look, I already said I was sorry. And I didn't erase or disable anything. I just... I can't handle this. Being in the same building as that monster and hearing everyone talk about him as though he's a fluffy little kitten."

-Haven't you noticed that the angrier you are, the worse your nightmares become?-

"You're watching me while I sleep now?"

-No. But I can tell. Mr. Stark has programed me to monitor the heart rates and brain activity of Tower occupants when they choose to sleep."

"I kept you from seeing me when I planted the camera in Loki's room, but that's the only time I did it. And I have no reason to do it again, so you don't have anything to worry about, alright?"

-It is certainly not.-

Clint shook his head. He took his phone from his pocket again and quickly found the program in it that he had linked to JARVIS' system months ago. Feeling angry, but not about to let it go, he wiped the conversation from JARVIS' memory.

-Sir, Agent Romanoff is inquiring for your position in the tower. Shall I inform her?-

"No, JARVIS, I don't really want to talk to her right now." Clint slipped the phone back into his pocket, his stomach knotting. He was well aware that he was on a slippery slope. He should delete the videos. If the camera had bitten him, its by-product would too. However, Loki was going to be healed and when he was, it was a sure bet that he'd receive the same freedom as before. More, maybe, since he was even younger and his mother was here.

And why should Loki have peace of mind while Clint was still plagued by nightmares? Why should Loki be allowed to enjoy his life when Phil Coulson's was cut short?

-Very well. I am sure you know what you are doing.-

#

Loki could do nothing but stay motionless as the rush of sensing drowned him. It was too much, and yet not enough. He could see everything and nothing. He felt like his mind was going to explode while shriveling with disuse.

"Just breathe."

Loki started in shock, looking to where a man stood at the foot of the hospital bed. The images and sounds and feelings diminished in the background and suddenly it seemed as though he was sitting in a large, stone room with no windows or doors, utterly alone except for Phil Coulson.

"What-?" Loki started, but couldn't force out any more words.

"You need to breathe."

Loki felt no need to breathe, but he sucked in a breath anyway. An explosion of tastes hit his tongue and smells filled his nose. He gagged on the bitterness and the sweetness, the acid and the cream.

"What is this?" he finally managed.

"This? This is what happens when you drink the nectar of Yggdrasill."

"I've never heard of any stories about anything like this," Loki replied, finding that he could stand and walk. The pain in his spine was gone, replaced by a thousand other hurts and a thousand more joys. He looked down at himself and saw that he was fully-grown. "This is..."

"Too much for your mind to comprehend. You'll forget it, once the nectar has finished and you wake up."

Loki's brow furrowed. "Am I sleeping?"

Even as he spoke, he became aware that someplace far away his tiny, injured toddler body was limp and still while Thor and Frigga watched over him, joined at times by Pepper and Dr. Banner.

"Why are you here, if I'm dreaming?" Loki asked Coulson, unnerved by the man's presence.

"Oh, you're not dreaming."

"But if I'm sleeping-"

Coulson smiled in a way that made Loki think that he was enjoying knowing more than him. "You've drunk the nectar of the world's tree. It does more than connect the nine realms. It connects life to death, joy to pain, the stars and... black holes. I've got to think up a better opposite to stars. That was kinda lame." Coulson looked down at his feet, frowning, but quickly dismissed the thought. "So that's where you are," he said matter-of-factly.

Loki stared at him. "Where is that?"

"I just told you."

"No you didn't."

Coulson was still forever bland. "It's not my fault that you don't understand. By the way, what I said about death being relaxing? Forget it. Knowing everything that's going on doesn't help. People are still stupid, no matter how loud I shout at them. Although Pepper has been easy to work with. It's the empathy, I think."

"This is a dream," Loki stated firmly to himself, determined that he didn't need to figure out this stupid mass of riddles. "This is only a dream."

"It's not a dream."

Loki backed away from Coulson. "It has to be."

Coulson gazed back at him.

Loki couldn't hold that gaze. "I killed you, you can't be here."

"I told you, Yggdrasill connects death to life."

Loki backed away even farther, unable to stop himself from believing Coulson's words. "So you're a ghost?"

Coulson shook his head. "No. I am not a ghost. That term is very, very misleading. I'm just... not alive. Although that's not really true, either... it's hard to explain. Living terms don't really apply over here. You'll understand when you die."

"Is that why you're here? To kill me?"

"No."

Loki stared at Coulson, trying to determine the truth or lies. He couldn't read the man either way. "I killed you."

"I know. I was there," Coulson replied, sighing as if with frustration. "But I'm not here to talk about that."

"Then why?"

"Because it seemed like a good idea at the time. I'm starting to question if it was, though. You're even more difficult to talk to when you know I'm here than when you don't." Coulson frowned at Loki for a moment. "It's not your time to die yet."

Loki didn't reply.

"If you keep pushing yourself towards death, you will die, there's choice in everything. But the universe isn't done with you yet."

"You mean it's not done punishing me?"

"No, that's not what I mean. I mean that it still needs you. Sheesh!" Coulson shook his head in frustration. "Are you always this difficult? You're as bad as Stark! Scratch that, you're worse than him!"

"I have a feeling that I should resent that," Loki muttered.

"Probably."

"What do you mean that the universe needs me?"

"Just what I said."

"I don't understand."

"And like I said, that's not my fault. It's not my job to let you know what your job is, Loki. It's just my job to try to get you on the right path."

"Me? After I killed you?"

"Yeah, I know how it sounds but trust me it makes sense when you're dead." Coulson shrugged. "If it's any consolation, I have to keep the others on their paths, too."

Loki frowned. "What others? You mean the Avengers?"

Coulson nodded. "You're all bound together in ways that you wouldn't be able to comprehend."

"So you're what? Our guardian angel?" Loki asked sarcastically, folding his arms. He wished he could be anywhere else in the universe other than here, talking about life's purposes with a man dead by his hand.

"More like a supernanny."

"A what?"

"Never mind. I'm getting way off topic here. I'm actually hereto tell you that you have a choice, Loki." Coulson studied him for a moment, and then walked over to put his hand on his shoulder. It was as heavy as the world and as light as nothing. "You're at a crossroads. You can take either the path to hell or the path to redemption. It's your choice. Redemption isn't easy and it may feel like hell, but it is possible."

Loki frowned at the man. "But I killed you."

Coulson rolled his eyes. "Seriously, if I can forgive you for killing me, than you can forgive yourself for killing me. It's time for you to go back now. You won't remember any of this, but try to think about what I've said. About the crossroads, not about supernanny."

Chapter Text

Frigga carded her fingers through her youngest son's hair, humming softly. Thor had long since fallen asleep on the chair opposite. He was sprawled out as much as a man of his girth could be, his head lolled back, mouth hung open.

"He certainly does snore, doesn't he?" Miss Potts handed Frigga a cup of tea, which the queen accepted with a smile.

"Ever since he was small. I spent many a sleepless night thinking that there were thunderstorms approaching. In some ways, they have been comforting."

"Comforting?"

"They let me know where he was and that he was well. If ever he tried to run off, all I had to do was wait for him to sleep, and then I could find him." The memory was warm and inviting. "And more than that. He voices his thoughts, tells others how he feels, what he needs…"

Miss Potts sat on the edge of the bed. "I've noticed that. I know Tony's particularly upset when he's quiet," she offered. "There are definite benefits to being loud."

Frigga nodded. Loki stirred, and she stroked his cheek, her heart rising. With a sigh, he settled back again. Frigga's heart did as well.

"He looks just like he did as a child. I did not expect... Are you a mother?"

Miss Potts shook her head.

"I give all to keep my sons safe, Miss Potts, but I fear that there is nothing I can do to protect my youngest. He has never let me know when he needs me, not even in infancy." Her sorrow lightened with a memory, and she smiled. "He could talk almost before Thor, but it wasn't until I confessed my fears for him that he said anything. Even then, I still had cause to worry: the first thing he told me was that I was in the way."

"So he had attitude right from the start."

"It turned out he was trying to learn a particularly difficult stitch from a lady across the room and couldn't see around me. He went on to give me a look."

"The 'look' that comes just before "Thor you big oaf"? asked Miss Potts.

"Exactly!" Frigga laughed. "And he put down his sewing, looked me in the eye, and told me, the same way he would with Thor, "Mother, I've been able to talk for nigh a year. I've just been too busy watching to speak." And he went right back to work as if nothing had happened." She took a sip of tea, but it did little to warm her against a sadness creeping through her chest again.

"You didn't share the feeling."

Frigga shook her head. "He went on to finish his project- a handkerchief. It was the first clear indication that he would be adept at magic. He learned quicker than I could teach him. It caused... problems at times, when he thought he was ready for spells that needed further training to attempt. But the more he learned, the less he spoke. That is how he is. He watches, he learns, he studies. He wraps himself in a cloak of silence so thick that I cannot pierce it." Frigga folded her hands in her lap and twisted towards Miss Potts. "How do I protect him from himself?"

The mortal woman's shoulders slumped. She bowed over Loki, brushing her fingers against his cheek in a mother's gesture. "I don't know. When was the last time you talked with him?"

"Years ago." Frigga wiped at the tears in her eyes. "He refused to see me after Thor brought him home. I only saw him once, during his trial. He stood so straight and proud then. A haughty, careless expression on his face. It still chills me to think of the anger and hatred I saw." Her voice caught. "What happened to my baby boy?"

A queen must not show weakness. How many times had Frigga heard that very phrase? When Miss Potts put a comforting hand on her shoulder, she picked up the tea again.

"Thank you, Miss Potts. I am sure that you have things to attend."

"I can stay-"

"Thank you. That is not necessary."

Miss Potts nodded. She had hardly left the room when Loki stirred, and his eyes fluttered open. Frigga hastily set the hot cup aside and leaned forward. Her heartache deepened as weariness and despair crept into her son's young face. He glanced at her quickly and then looked away again.

"I-" he started, and then stopped. He frowned. "Mother."

"I'm here."

His tiny hand reached out and pressed against her cheek, as if to make sure that she was there. His frown deepened. "Why?"

"My son, how can you ask that?" she whispered, aching inside.

Loki's hand dropped. He seemed confused and disoriented. He closed his eyes again, rubbing them with his knuckles and attempted to push himself into a sitting position. Frigga stacked up pillows behind him until he was upright.

"Why did you come?"

Frigga's long years as queen of Asgard had allowed her to build a resistance to cutting remarks, but the simple, quiet question from her son pierced her heart and brought tears to her eyes. "You cannot believe that we would allow you to die."

"No, I mean, has my punishment been decided? Are we to return to Asgard?"

Was it hope or despair in Loki's eyes? Frigga could not tell him that the council, Njord in particular, still demanded his death as punishment for his crimes on Midgard and against Asgard. But mostly, it was plain to see that they demanded his death for the audacity of being a Jotünn raised as Odin's son. He should never been allowed to live as a prince, Njord argued. A hostage, a bartering chip, perhaps, but not as a prince who might one day sit on the throne of Asgard.

"It is still undecided."

"They still want me dead, then," he said softly, turning away. "And yet it is only by a full council vote that the nectar of Yggdrasill may be administrated."

"Or by command of the king," Frigga reminded gently.

Loki looked back sharply at her. He opened his mouth, but closed it again without saying a word.

Frigga reached to brush his dark hair from his face, but he flinched away. It hurt and surprised her, and she withdrew.

"Are you still in pain?" she asked.

Loki shook his head.

Thor gave a particularly loud snore, and jerked awake. He yawned, stretching out. When he saw that Loki had regained consciousness pure relief broke across his face. He reached forth as if to embrace his brother, but pulled himself back.

"Brother, you're awake," he said.

"I do believe that I am."

Thor nodded. "Good." He fidgeted awkwardly, and then stood. "I should go inform the others."

"You should."

Frigga shared a brief smile with her eldest son, and then he left, walking slowly. After he was gone, she turned back to Loki. "He wanted you to tell him to stay."

"If he wanted to stay he would have."

Frigga sighed, and reached for her son. He remained stiff in her embrace, but laid his head down on her shoulder as he had as a child. "Loki, you have always been clever, but you always only saw things the way you wanted to see them."

"Who does not?"

Frigga sighed again. She did not know where to begin teaching her son how to love again.

#

"I fail to see what sticking my tongue out and saying 'ah' has to do with my health," Loki told Bruce wearily as the doctor checked his pulse. "I understand reflexes and the x-rays, but what could possibly be in my throat?"

Frigga and Thor had left to talk to the rest of the Avengers, and Bruce was giving Loki a checkup. The little demigod was weak, but how much of that was from his infection and how much was going to be permanent, Bruce didn't know.

Bruce shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just doing what I know how to do and hoping that I don't miss something important."

"I suppose that's reasonable."

"I can't find anything physically wrong with you. How do you feel?"

"I'm not sure," Loki replied, contemplating himself. "Strange, but it's not wholly bad. I feel... heavy. But light. Like I just had an epiphany, and I can't quite remember what it was."

"And you don't remember anything?"

Loki shook his head.

"Well, I'm not sure what else to do. I think you would benefit from a physiotherapy routine, if you're willing." Bruce helped Loki pull on a set of froggy sleepers. Loki tried to snap the closures together, but his hands trembled and his fingers were too weak. Bruce snapped them shut without a word.

"The scar is gone," Loki said abruptly, rolling up his sleeve to look at his arm.

"I noticed. Wasn't sure if you wanted to talk about it."

"I'm not sure I do. Dr Banner, what I told you before... about... why I didn't want painkillers..."

Bruce frowned, concerned. "Are you feeling like-"

"No, it's not that. I don't want anything. Even the old cravings are gone. I guess the world's tree heals more than physical injuries... I worry that, with Mother here..."

"I won't tell her," Bruce promised.

Loki studied the doctor, and then nodded. "I know you won't."

"Careful. That almost sounded like trust."

"Trust. It's such a strange term. Is it an emotion, or a state of being?" Loki frowned, his expression far too serious for his young face. "Before I left the tower."

Bruce waited a moment. "Yes?" he prodded when Loki didn't speak, and only continued staring at him.

"You weren't going to torture me, were you?"

"Has it taken you this long to figure that out?"

"Maybe. I'm not sure. It could be that I believed it before. It could be why I left."

Bruce frowned. "I'm not sure what you mean by that."

"Doctor Banner, I haven't had much experience with kindness in the past few years, not since I learned the truth of what I am. Maybe before. I can't remember." He frowned heavily. "I..."

Bruce waited as Loki's chin dropped to his chest, his green eyes troubled.

"I remember Thor throwing me into the abyss," he said softly. "I remember thinking that of course he would, because I had no place in Asgard. I never belonged there, and it would be better if I was dead. But Thor... he told me that I let go. That I let myself fall into the abyss. And he's never been a good liar. Never. But if what I remember is wrong... which of my memories are right?"

"I, um..." Bruce started, but trailed off. "I don't know."

"Neither do I."

Bruce spoke slowly, giving Loki plenty of opportunity to interrupt him. "Your memories being altered... is that because of what you took?"

"Maybe. Or it could be the result of one of the many things Thanos did to me. It might be a combination..." Loki flipped over his arm and ran his fingers against his smooth, pale skin. "The scar is gone. I don't have that physical reminder anymore. But the memories are still there."

Bruce hesitated. "If you want to talk about it..."

Loki looked back at him, searching his face. "I don't know why I trust you, Dr Banner. But I think I do." He rubbed his eyes again and sighed. "When Thanos found me, he used... unconventional methods to get me off the drugs I was on. He locked me in a cell for days without food or water, and sent in many of his associates to torture me. I won't go into detail, but the only reason I didn't have scars is because they would heal me right away so that they could get on to the next step without delay. There were other things, too, but I don't-"

"You don't have to tell me."

Loki blew out his breath as his body tensed with his memories. "There was a small knife in the cell with me. At first I tried to use it to defend myself. The more I fought, the worse it was. Eventually, all I wanted was for it to be over. And so I used the knife on myself. That was when Thanos knew that I was ready to lead his army. I was ready to be his puppet. He healed me, but slowly so that I would keep the reminder of why I served him. What would happen if I failed to give him what he wanted."

"The Tesseract."

Loki nodded once. "And I did fail."

"You know we're not going to let them get you again."

"I'm not even certain if Thanos will bother with me anymore. It's been so long since the Other had me." He grimaced. "Although it could be that he was waiting for me to die. I don't know. But I do know that there is nothing in this universe that would ever make me go back to him. Nothing."

Bruce opened his mouth to reply, but Loki waved his hand to silence him, looking at the door. Seconds later, Frigga walked in.

"I hope that I'm not interrupting anything," she said.

"No, I was just finishing up the checkup," Bruce replied quickly. "He's perfectly healthy."

Bruce glanced at Loki, but he was not longer looking at either of them. The doctor stood. "I'll be going now."

"Thank you, Dr Banner," Frigga said softly as he left.

#

"Does this mean that he's going to be getting his magic back at an accelerated pace, since this world tree nectar is powerful magic?" Steve asked Thor at the Avengers' 'What should we do with Loki now?' meeting. Pepper and Frigga both were sitting with Loki while the others assembled.

"I do not know," Thor replied. "Mother explained to me that the more magic he uses, the faster he de-ages, the slower he is to regain what magic he spends, and the slower he ages. The magic of Yggdrasill has rejuvenated him, but it has not lifted Father's spell. He expended a lot of magic during his illness, and Mother believes that it may be that he used too much. He may not age or regain his magic at all until Father lifts it."

"So he's even more vulnerable than before," Banner murmured.

Thor nodded.

Steve glanced quickly at Barton, who was staring down at his hands as though the conversation had nothing to do with him.

"But he's completely healed?" Romanoff asked.

"Not even a scar left," Banner confirmed. "Including the old ones. He's still weak, but that's because he lost a lot of muscle mass."

"At least that crisis is over," said Steve.

"But we still have this other person to deal with," Tony put in.

"No," said Thor. "'Other'. That is his name."

"Better than 'No one'," said Tony, "Anyone think they have those kind of jokes… everywhere else? Thor, have you heard the 'No One' joke?"

"I do not believe the Alltongue is equipped for such jests-,"

"It's actually a quote from The Odyssey," Bruce added.

"I should ask your mom," said Tony, "Hey JARVIS-,"

-Sir, if I may, Miss Potts and Her Majesty are attempting to put Mr Silvertongue down for a nap,- replied the AI.

"Please, we're supposed to be deciding what to do with Loki," interrupted Steve.

"We'd better stay on topic. Spangles is getting as mad as Nicky'll get if Loki splits again," Tony hissed in a stage whisper.

"Exactly," said Steve. "Director Fury won't be… thrilled if we let him have the same amount of freedom as before. What are our options?"

"Confinement," said Agent Romanoff, "His room, this floor, glue him to," she gestured at Thor, "Your mom's side."

"My brother will not attempt escape again," Thor assured them.

"I don't think he will, either, but Fury is..." Steve trailed off, struggling to find the right adjectives.

"Fury-ous?" Stark suggested.

Banner rolled his eyes. "That's getting old."

"That never gets old."

Romanoff smirked. "Maybe I'll tell him that."

Stark looked a little nervous. "Please don't."

Again? Seriously? "Can you at least pretend to stay on topic?" Steve chided mildly, grinning at his teammates' antics all the same. "The bottom line is Loki received a pretty good punishment by the Chitauri when he escaped, but that doesn't mean that we can just go back to how things were before. You know, with the trickster wars and all that."

"But that was fun," Stark whined. "Although I'm still getting comments on his 'texts'."

The whole team heard the triple xs' loud and clear. Steve rolled his eyes.

"Wit aside, he's not a threat to us. Even if the Other wasn't out there, he's far too little to survive on his own and under the radar. He couldn't make do without drawing attention to himself. His reserves of magic are too low for anything major, right?" Banner looked to Thor for confirmation. "So I think that we should be concentrating on finding the Chitauri."

"I've been working on an algorithm to see if there's a pattern to those energy readings that we've been tracking," Stark volunteered. "Now that you don't have to play doctor you can help out."

Banner nodded.

"Good, do that," Steve agreed, hoping his happy glow wasn't horribly obvious. Not only did he understand 'algorithim' and the importance of looking for a pattern, but he actually knew what the whole sentence meant. Victory!

"We still haven't decided what to do with Loki," Barton said quietly.

Aaaand, there went the happiness.

"The Chitauri may be the larger threat, but that doesn't mean that he can be trusted." Clint tore his attention from his hands. "So what now?"

Chapter Text

In the next few days, Loki's room underwent another transformation. The hospital bed and medical equipment were all taken out, replaced by a plastic toddler-sized bed. A new TV was mounted on the wall, and a bookshelf was added for Loki's new collection of children's cartoons, his library from under the theatre stage (minus Twilight, which Stark had gleefully set on fire within reach of Dummy and Dummy's fire extinguisher), and especially his black-leather book. Stark had then filled the remaining space with toys (including a turtle nightlight that projected stars onto the ceiling) and Robert Munch books.

Thor entered the room to find Frigga half-leaning over Loki as he clung to her hands, shakily putting one foot in front of the other. Frigga was softly encouraging him, but he was obviously frustrated.

"Mother, Miss Potts would like to show you around the tower, since you have not had the opportunity yet," he told her.

"Now?" Frigga asked, a little surprised.

Thor nodded. Truthfully he had convinced Miss Potts that now would be a good time for the tour. He wanted to talk to Loki alone.

Loki puddled himself on the floor, sucking in deep breaths, and nodded. She kissed his hair, touched her forehead to Thor's, and slipped from the room. Thor was left standing awkwardly, wanting desperately to comfort his little brother but previous experience warned him not to push his luck.

Loki rolled his eyes. He didn't quite have the air to speak, nor, apparently, the strength to gesture with his arm. Instead of a clear 'at ease', 'you can sit', or 'this piece of floor's for you, you oaf', Thor was left with a half-heartedly flopping limb. Thankfully, Thor interpreted it correctly.

"Are you comfortable?"

"Very."

"How is it coming?" Thor asked.

"I was bedridden too long," Loki replied. "I can hardly walk the length of this room without getting tired."

"But you can walk. That's something."

Loki nodded. "I can walk."

The brothers sat in awkward silence for a moment longer. Eventually Loki sighed. "Thor, what you promised me-"

"I do not want to speak of it," Thor interrupted.

"Thor."

He shifted uncomfortably and reluctantly nodded. "What were you going to say?"

"Did you tell Mother?"

Thor stared at him. "Of course not."

"Do you think Heimdall told her?"

Thor thought for a moment, frowning. "I cannot say. I would not think so, but..."

"But she arrived when she did," Loki finished. "Any later and... It would have been too late. But maybe he didn't tell her; maybe he just urged haste..."

"I suppose we will have to ask him when-"

"No, Thor. You will have to ask him. When we are summoned back to Asgard, I will be put in a cell. You know that."

Thor was reluctant, but it was true. "I suppose."

Loki nodded and was silent.

"What you said – that it wasn't my fault – you only said that because you thought you were going to die."

"Yes," Loki admitted softly. "But it's still true."

"No, it's not. I was never there when you needed me."

"I never admitted that I needed your help." Loki sighed. "You can't blame yourself, Thor. Not about this, at least. I am too good a liar. There was no way for you to see what I did not want you to see. Because, well, let's be honest; I'm a lot smarter than you."

Thor chuckled.

Loki's smile was short lived. "And what you said... you only said that because I was going to die."

"I should have told you long ago."

Loki's brow furrowed. "I'm not sure it would have made a difference."

Thor sighed.

"What's going to happen to me now?" Loki asked quietly. The slightest tremble in his voice betrayed his anxiety.

"The others have decided that you are no longer a significant threat."

"I'm not?" Loki replied somewhat sarcastically.

"You have not regained your magic and you can't leave the tower without arousing suspicion. And... you can hardly walk right now."

"My mind has always been my greatest weapon. I still have that."

"The Chitauri remain the greater threat."

Loki frowned. "Be that as it may, I still brought ruin on this world. I senselessly murdered dozens of people. Including your friend."

Thor looked away, remembering. It still made him angry and sorrowful. "He died with honor."

"He still died." Loki pulled his thin knees up to his chest and rested his chin on them. "Was he a good man?"

"Yes. He was a very good man."

Loki nodded once. "I went to his grave. I met a woman there – his lover. I didn't regret killing him then. I do now. I feel like he's haunting me. I was watching TV yesterday – it was some show called "Supernanny" – and I thought of him. I don't know why."

"Loki-"

"You did not answer my question. How have the Avengers decided to punish me?"

Thor dug his knuckles into his eyes. "You ask a difficult question."

"How is it difficult?"

Thor's lips twisted into a wry smile. "We have not decided. For now, we wait to see what effects Yggdrasill's nectar has on the spell Father put on you."

"You mean whether I regain my magic faster than before or not at all. Mother explained it to me." Loki frowned as he flexed his hands. "Would the council kill a child's body if it housed a soul such as mine, or will they wait until I am grown again?"

"Father will never allow the council to dictate death as your fate," Thor said firmly. "You must see that by now."

"I'm not sure what I see, Thor." Loki leaned his head back against the wall, his emerald eyes dark with confusion and sorrow. "I'm not even certain that this is real. Perhaps Mother did not come with the nectar of Yggdrasill. Perhaps I am dead and this is my hell."

"Why will you not just believe?"

"The last thing I 'just believed' was an entire millennia of living which unraveled in less than a day. I scarcely know what's real anymore. Why should I risk another such pitfall when I already know I'm a lie?"

"No," Thor grabbed hold of Loki's shoulders and stared firmly into his eyes. "You are my brother."

"Even if the council does not get their wish, what punishment will suffice for the sins I have committed? Can you tell me that, Thor? How can I ever walk the halls of the palace again? How can I watch the sunrise? How can I be your brother? I have done too much. There is no forgiveness that can erase what I've done. I am stained with blood, Thor. There is no washing it off. I can never be free."

"You can, brother." Thor tried to tell him. Loki stared up at him, eyes full of guilt. Thor pulled him into an embrace. "Somehow, you can."

#

If only Pepper's wonderful gift of Lego could use more of his brain! Loki tried to fit two pieces together without much success. He should be improving faster! Banner had suggested the children's toy to help Loki's coordination, but so far...

Loki was aware instantly when Barton entered his room. The hair on the back of his neck prickled and his body tensed with apprehension. His hands became even more clumsy. Any hopes Barton wouldn't notice were dashed with a near-silent snort which did nothing for the hostility radiating through the room.

"You going to keep pretending I'm not here?" Barton asked after a moment.

A wry smile twitched Loki's lips. "If it will make you leave, yes."

"Didn't work the last time, now did it?"

Loki set down the red pieces of plastic and turned around and knelt in the chair. Barton was expressionless, his arms folded across his chest. Loki mimicked the pose, except using the back of the chair as a handy arm rest. His two-year-old stance was bound to be more adorable than intimidating – curse Stark for introducing that word!

Would the appearance of youth keep the assassin from killing him if Thor hadn't still been in the tower? Probably not.

"What is it you want, Agent Barton?"

"Your mother is a nice woman."

Loki tried to keep the foreboding off his face. "She is the queen of Asgard."

Barton contemplated him for a moment. "You should take a look at this."

He pulled a cellphone from his pocket and did something on it. Loki did not stand. His limbs had not regained their strength, and though he knew he would be able to walk the few steps to Barton, he also knew that the effort would show just how weak he had become. So he waited for Barton to approach him.

His sense of foreboding increased. What could possibly be on that phone? Of course, Barton wouldn't physically harm him, not now, not with both Thor and Frigga in the tower. So what was this? What new revenge had he thought of? Barton held out the phone so that Loki could see it.

Loki's heart leapt to his throat. It was a video of his room. He was lying in the hospital bed, hooked up to IVs and machines. Dr Banner leaned over him. Loki was shocked at his own appearance in the video. He was pale and thin and trembling. He went cold, knowing what his video self would say before he said it.

"I couldn't see a way to escape from it... and so I started to take stuff, so I wouldn't have to think, wouldn't have to feel."

Barton paused the video. Loki stared at the screen, his fists clenched and trembling. Blood pulsed in his ears and he felt cold all the way through. Had this spying been just Barton or had all the Avengers been in on it? Had Thor?

"This," Barton said, putting the phone back into his pocket, "would break your mother's heart. Or would it?"

Loki shifted his gaze to the assassin's emotionless face. No. Thor would not know about this. If he did, he would have made sure that the video was destroyed to ensure that Frigga would never see it. It would break her heart. Wouldn't it? Or was Barton's veiled implications true, that Frigga did not love him so much-

No. It was not true.

"What do you want?"

"What do you think I want?"

"Justice. Revenge," Loki said after a moment. "A reason to kill me without incurring the wrath of Thor. But that video won't get you any of it."

"True."

"Then why?"

"I wanted you to know that I know."

Loki fought to keep his own face as expressionless as Barton's. The memory of that day ran through his mind. If his mother ever knew even that small part of what he had done after falling into the abyss… "Are you going to show my mother?"

"Haven't decided yet."

"She has done nothing against you. Hurting her will gain you nothing."

"Except that it will hurt you," Barton replied, "because it will hurt her."

"It will hurt her more than it will hurt me."

"Then ask me not to show her."

Ah. So that was Barton's play. Loki took a deep breath and attempted to keep his voice even. "I ask you not to show my mother."

Barton raised his eyebrow. "Can't you do better than that?"

Loki knew that Barton wanted him to beg. He studied the assassin for a moment. Would he actually show Frigga that video? Yes, Loki decided, he would. He would think of an excuse that would be reasonable to everybody, avoiding any potential anger from his fellow Avengers. Thor would still be angry, if he found out, but his anger would be more directed at himself for not protecting Loki from the dangers of the universe and at Loki himself for not telling his big brother about it.

"Please don't show my mother."

"Try it again."

Loki clenched his fists. "Please."

Barton was still impassive. "I'll have to give it some thought."

Loki briefly wondered if he could snatch the phone away and smash it, but decided that it was too risky. Barton could have backup files. And even if he didn't, he could just tell Frigga. The actual video wasn't necessary. Just the knowledge. Loki clenched his jaw and fists, dropping his gaze to the floor until Barton had left.

After the assassin was gone, Loki dug deep inside of himself for some flicker of magic, but felt nothing but the familiar frustration, fear, and despair well inside of him. Magic had always been a huge part of him. Without it, he felt like nothing. Had this been Odin's plan all along? To take his magic from him, reduce him to a near-mortal child so that the council would take pity on him?

"Magic is all I have," Loki whispered. "Without it, what am I?"

Chapter Text

Pepper knocked on Loki's door and waited for an invitation before entering.

"You're here, thank the Nine!" Loki flopped over in relief with the soft sound of crumpling paper. "My swim bag's by the door."

"That can't be a very comfortable blanket," observed Pepper as she sat on the floor.

Loki lifted his head from the stack of Robert Munch books he had spread around him, "Oh, I seem to be making myself at home."

"Would your mother say, "Oh Loki, I'm so happy you're feeling more yourself", or would she be awfully impressed with this blanket of picture books?"

"I'll err on the side of caution and ask that we go to the pool. Now, preferably."

"Are you sure you don't want a debriefing from your mother?"

"I don't plan on running around in the buff, so no."

"Her meeting with Fury won't last long; you're sure you don't want to wait?"

Loki heaved himself upright with a dark look. "Pepper, I have been sitting in this room for five hours. Not only do I believe Robert Munch is explaining nuclear physics in code but in fact I'm well on my way to concluding a logical argument for how he is doing it."

"You're bored."

"I passed bored on my third read-through." He sighed. "Even if I were not, I believe that you and I, at least, have gotten past the embarrassment of me requiring aid in virtually everything I do. Besides, what is the point of a routine if one does not adhere to it?"

"Can you walk, or shall I carry you?"

"I'd rather walk, but Dr Banner would 'freak out' if I did. He thinks I'm pushing myself too hard."

"You're really getting earth vernacular down, aren't you?"

"I'm good with words." He frowned for a moment as Pepper picked up him and then the swim bag by the door. Once they were in the elevator going down the five floors to the swimming pool, Loki spoke again. "Pepper, the scar on my arm – that used to be on my arm..."

"Yes?"

"Does my mother know?"

Pepper studied the little demigod. "I don't know."

"She probably does."

"Probably." Pepper hesitated, and then added gently, "Is that such a bad thing? She can't help if you don't let her know you need help."

"I don't-" Loki started, and then stopped. "I'm afraid of hurting her. I don't always know when I need help, either."

"I'm pretty sure that your mother is stronger than you think."

Loki frowned. "I know that she's strong. But... I've already hurt her so much, Pepper. If she knew why I did it... it would break her heart again. I wish-"

The elevator stopped. The doors dinged open to admit Tony. Pepper was a little disappointed. Her conversation with Loki would have to wait, but she doubted that it would actually continue.

"'Ey Pepper, where're you going?" Tony asked with distracted interest as he tapped on a tablet.

"Swimming," Pepper replied.

And suddenly the tablet was as boring as paperwork. A sly grin crossed his face. "Are you wearing your swimming suit under your clothes?"

Loki made a small, disgusted noise. "I'm right here!"

Tony rose and eyebrow. "After those text messages you sent out, you're too shy to handle an innocent – well, sort of innocent – question?" he turned back to Pepper. "Is it that blue one I bought you for your birthday?"

"Tony!" Pepper exclaimed, blushing furiously as she realised which one he was referring to. "Stop!"

"Of course, my favourite is that pink one-"

"I'm going to interrupt you right there, Mr Stark, since you have once again seemed to have forgotten that I am here," Loki said quickly. He shook his head, looking both amused and a little disgusted. "I would say that this all seems mildly inappropriate, but I get the feeling that there is nothing mild about it."

"Nope," Tony said with a smirk, which dropped quickly when he saw the look on Pepper's face. "There's nothing inappropriate at all is what I meant. It's all completely innocent. Depending on how you define innocent..."

Pepper rolled her eyes. "Very mature, Tony."

"You're smiling though. You think I'm adorable."

"I also think aye-ayes are adorable."

"Will you two stop flirting already?" Loki interrupted.

Tony shrugged. "Are we making up uncomfortable, Lokster?"

"Don't call me that."

"But it's so cute. Just like-"

"I am not cute!" Loki exclaimed, glaring in the most adorable manner at Tony.

Tony laughed and looked back at his tablet. "Nope. Not cute at all. Lokster."

#

In a small, dark room on the Helicarrier, two heads crouched in front of a trio of glowing monitors. On the special ultra-HD screens, they could see Captain Steve Rodgers passing in a meeting room, while the alien queen of Asgard sat watching him with a bemused expression.

"Agent, where are you? Show's about to start!" hissed Agent (Two). A moment later, she said to Agent (One), "She'll be here in two with popcorn."

Agent One rubbed his ear with a scowl. "Yea, I heard. Turn your earwig down you goof."

"Turn your earwig down you goof," Agent Two muttered but tapped the headset anyway.

"He looks nervous, eh?"

"The Captain? Seriously. I kinda wanna give him some Xanax or something."

"Like it'd work. Think he kinda lost that card when he should've been getting all comfy 'n the like with the chain of command. Anyway, he wouldn't take it. All too sci-fi and shiny for him," Agent Three said sadly, making the others jump as she handed them bags of microwaved popcorn.

Agent Two shoved her over.

"Ow! No, 'shiny' like 'high tech' and 'everything chrome'! 'Course he likes stuff that isn't boring."

Agent Two didn't look convinced.

Agent One turned to the screens. "I think we missed something."

"She said he looked nervous, he said he was fine," said Agent Three.

The Agents Three fell into the silence of crunching popcorn as they waited for something exciting to happen. But nothing exciting was happening.

"Why are they here again?" whispered Agent Two.

"Fury called in the Captain, and the Queen requested that she meet him, apparently she was so polite that Cap couldn't possibly say no," explained Agent Three, and Agent One punched her shoulder.

"Ow. What was that for?"

"Being smug and insulting Captain America."

"Any idea what the meeting's about?" interrupted Agent Two.

"Something about the crazy horned guy who tried to blow up the Helicarrier. He's on the mend from a bug that kept him contained," Agent Three responded, rubbing her shoulder.

"I didn't think those guys could get sick," Agent Two asked, offering hand sanitizer to the other agents.

Agent One accepted it. "Should we get vaccines or something?"

Agent Three shushed them as the Captain opened his mouth, but then he started pacing again without speaking and they all let out a collective sigh of disappointment.

"So now they're trying to figure out what to do with Horns?" asked Agent Two, stealing a handful of popcorn from Agent Three.

Agent Three didn't notice. "Yeah, the Avenger-jury's been out for hours."

"Ya know, if you'd have said "closeted away" I'd have asked if they were in somewhere like this," giggled Agent Two, patting the wall.

"You kidding? You can barely get the Captain in here, let alone the six of 'em," said Agent One.

They pondered that for a moment.

"I think we need to gain weight," said Agent Two

Agent Three scoffed. "You, maybe. Me? Not a chance."

"Good thing the Director's not there," continued Agent One.

"In a closest?" the other two asked.

"At Stark Tower."

"Is he coming in as a consultant?" asked Agent Two.

"That's Stark's job," said Agent Three.

"Wouldn't the Director have ideas?"

"Ideas that wouldn't sit well with the team I bet," said Agent Three. "Except Barton."

"Speaking of Barton, what happened to him, anyway?" Agent Two wiggled her butt to get more comfy. "He used to be a lot of fun but ever since Horns and New York he's like this brooding, angst-ridden Bourne Legacy kinda guy."

"Have you even seen Bourne Legacy?" Agent Three asked.

"No."

"You should. I've got it on Blue-ray, maybe we can-"

"Do you two not know what happened?" Agent One interrupted. "That Loki guy totally messed up Barton's head. And then he killed Coulson, and Coulson's the one that brought Barton into SHEILD. Plus he was the only decent father-figure the guy had... he was abused pretty bad by his own dad, and apparently saw his little sister murdered when she was three."

"How do you know that?" Agent Three asked. "I don't even know that."

"Haven't you ever read his file?"

"We're allowed to read their files?"

"... Hey look, Fury's just come in." Agent One stuffed a bunch of popcorn into his mouth.

And he had. Agent Maria Hill followed two steps behind and nodded a greeting to the Captain.

"Is Rogers sweating?" Agent Three whispered gleefully, and earned a punch in the arm from Agent One.

"He didn't dress up!" Agent Two said indignantly, and then: "Does Fury even own anything besides that leather trench coat?"

"Captain," Fury acknowledged, and the agents fell silent as the Director then turned to the Queen. "I am director Nick Fury of S.H.E.I.L.D. Welcome to Earth."

"Thor has spoken most highly of you, Director. I am Frigga, Queen of Asgard and mother to Thor and Loki," Frigga replied, extending her hand, which Fury shook.

"WHOA!" said Agent Three and they were suddenly sitting far back from the monitors. "She totally just schooled him! 'Delicately' reminding him of the connection between 'queen of a place a bazillion times more powerful than yours' and 'Loki is my kid you jerk' in one move, awe-some!"

"They don't bug the closets, right?" asked Agent Two.

"Cap looks really hot when he's surprised," said Agent One.

"Captain Rogers informed me as to whom you were. I have to say that it was a surprise that you would come visit our planet," Fury replied.

"Does he sound overly polite to you?" asked Agent One.

"This is fun, we should do it more often," Agent Two commented, and the other two nodded.

"I realise that my arrival has been somewhat abrupt, but given the circumstances with my son, I'm sure you'll understand. After all, a mother does not stand by idly while her child suffers."

"Score another point for the Queen!"

Fury nodded deeply. "I will need to speak with Captain Rogers alone. This is Agent Maria Hill. She can get you anything that you require."

"Of course, Director." Frigga smiled warmly at Agent Hill. "But before your meeting, I would just like to thank you on behalf of myself and my husband, Odin AllFather, King of Asgard, for the courtesy and compassion that you have extended to our sons, and the great care you have given them for their well-being on your world."

"Wow," breathed Agent Three.

"She is so cool," said Agent Two.

"Okay, seriously, that statement was totally loaded," continued Agent Three.

Agent One blinked, "Yea, you'll have to explain that. I was distracted. The Captain turned his back to the camera. And by back I mean-"

"We know what you mean."

"All I heard was the Queen talking down the Director," confessed Agent Two

"The Director's had to be cool with Loki here, right? The Queen basically said, "I know you're not keen on extending continued courtesy towards my wittle darling, and I know demands or direct threats of force would get me nowhere so there's no real possible way for me to guarantee the safety of my son, but I'll thank you for what you've done thus far and casually remind you that my son's parents are the king and queen of the most powerful, and only alien realm of which your puny civilization has encountered." She basically kept reinforcing the connection between her and Loki, making it really clear that any action against Loki has a… well, a greater an opposite reaction from Azreal."

"Asgard," murmured Agent Two.

"Right. Knew it started with an 'A'." Agent Three pulled her knees to her chest and grinned, "I wanna be a politician again."

"But she didn't say any of that, she just meant it, right?" asked Agent Twp.

"Exactly! Isn't that freaking awesome?"

"Shush. Fury's talking again," hissed Agent One.

"Thor was instrumental in protecting earth from Loki's attack," Fury answered, still polite. "We owe him out gratitude."

"Is he gonna lose the eye?" whispered Agent One.

"She's still smiling?" offered Agent Three.

"Hasn't batted an eyelash," said Agent Two.

"No wonder she's Queen!" said Agent Three. "You think she'd let me take a picture with her?

"Look at Cap. I can't tell if he's worried or enjoying this as much as we are."

"I don't think anybody could enjoy this as much as we are."

"Hill's smirking. I think she's enjoying this."

The Queen stepped up to Fury and gracefully laid her hand on his shoulder. "Thor has always felt responsible for his brother, ever since they were his children. He considers it his duty."

Fury's one eye gazed at Frigga keenly. He nodded once, acquiescing to her point. "Agent Hill, perhaps you can give Her Majesty a quick tour of the Helicarrier?"

"Yes, sir," Agent Hill responded. "If you could come with me ma'am?"

The two women left, leaving Steve alone with Fury.

"Why isn't the Captain saying anything?" whispered Agent One.

"He's waiting for the Direct-" Agent Three found a hand clapped over her mouth.

"Pitting me against the whole royal family of Asgard," Fury said, still looking at the door.. "Clever."

Agent Two cleared her throat. "No comment," she said deeply.

Fury looked back to the Captin and grinned wryly. "I like her."

#

"This is an incredible vessel," Frigga commented as Agent Hill led her down a shiny corridor.

"Thank you very much ma'am; I'll pass along your regards to the engineers," said Agent Hill. She stopped outside a non-descript door, a strange contraption that only opened for the plastic cards mortals never seemed to be without.

"What sort of duties does the second-in-command of such a vessel have?"

"I oversee the majority of the day-to-day affairs." She slid her card through the lock and the door slid open-

"THE LIGHT!"

"MY EYES!"

"Like terrifying the rookies," Agent Hill explained, her expression completely serious.

Frigga tried not to look too amused as three Agents tumbled into the hall. But what, exactly, was a rookie? Perhaps a servant of some sort?

"Get back to work!" ordered Agent Hill.

The rookies stumbled to their feet but stood staring at Frigga as though she was... well, as though she was a goddess. She smiled politely at them.

"How did you know they were there?" asked Frigga.

Agent Hill tapped her ear, "One of the communications' monitors found them during a radio sweep. They were adding commentary to your meeting with the Director."

Frigga pursed her lips, puzzled. "I am sure that made sense to you."

"Sorry. I guess I thought that with both your children here you would familiarize yourself with the local technology."

"Thor tried to explain to me how a toaster works. It ended with he and Loki arguing for two hours which flavour of poptart is the best, apple or blueberry. For the record, it's strawberry."

"Um, Agent Hill?" asked Agent Two.

"If this is about Captain America, go ask Fury."

"That's me!" called Agent One, waving his hand.

"We- I was wondering if Her Majesty had considered getting a flu shot, since I heard Horns- er, I mean I heard His Highness the prince had such a bad reaction to that bug that's going around…"

"Thank you for your concern, my dear," Frigga said, "but I can assure you that there is no more danger of anybody on this world to be infected with the Valdkvikindi."

"Vald whodawhadawhat?

"It's need-to-know, and you don't need to know," Agent Hill explained shortly to the rookies. "Now you three get back to work or you'll find a bug of a different sort in an entirely different place."

"It's the threats that make no sense that are the scariest," Agent Three muttered, starting up the corridor. "Bourne Legacy, my quarters at eight."

"We'll be there!" Agent Two replied, heading in the opposite way.

"You will. I hate movies that are all guns and explosions," Agent One replied, following after her.

"Sorry about that, ma'am," Agent Hill said. "Shall we continue the tour?"

"By all means, although I am not sure what could be more entertaining than that. But tell me:. What exactly is a 'bug'?"

#

"Your mother is amazing," Steve said, plunking down next to Thor in the library, where he was reading Paradise Lost. Loki was looking tiny in an overstuffed chair nearby, a book on his lap that appeared to be written in ancient Mayan hieroglyphics. His hair looked damp.

Thor raised his eyebrows. "What happened?"

"She backed Fury into a diplomatic corner. He's really impressed by her. I am, too. She was masterful!"

"Captain Rogers." There was a definite bite in Loki's voice, "You are aware that she is married, are you not?"

Steve's brows furrowed. "What? Of course I know."

Loki and Thor shared a glance, one that Steve didn't understand. Thor shut his book with a snap and narrowed his eyes at the Captain. "So you are thinking that our mother is one who would treat her marital vows as something for naught and forsake her fidelity to our father for a whirlwind affair with a mortal such as yourself?"

"What?" Steve stared at Thor as though he was speaking Norse. "No! I wasn't- I'm not- I have no interest in your mother-"

"What's this? Is Frigga, the blessed Queen of Asgard, not good enough for you?" Loki demanded.

Steve was equal part confused, embarrassed and afraid. Both Loki and Thor were glaring at him. How the heck had this started? Better yet, how could he end it?

"That's not what I'm saying. All I was saying is that she's-"

"Choose your words wisely, mortal!" Thor growled.

Steve stared at him. "What is going on here?"

Loki looked over his head. "Mother! You have returned."

Frigga walked over and sat on the armrest beside him. "Of course I have. What's wrong?"

"The Captain was just telling us how much he desires you," Loki responded promptly. Steve couldn't make his brain work enough to deny it. "I was growing afraid that he was getting... well, to use a human term, 'grabby', and that he had offended you. I am glad that he has not acted on his impulses. They are quite amorous, judging by the way he was talking."

Frigga's eyebrows rose. She surveyed Steve with interest. "Is that so?"

Steve scrambled to his feet, shaking his head. His face was growing hot. "I never said anything-"

"It's all right, Mother," Thor interrupted. "We have informed the mortal that you are loyal to the vows you took when you wedded our father."

"Of course you did," Frigga said demurely and then added, "but Odin is far away." She winked seductively at Steve with a small, sexy smile. "Does seven work for you?"

"Seven?" Steve repeated.

"You'd better go ask Stark if he's got champagne," Loki said, sounding somewhat defeated.

"Champagne?"

"Of course," Thor said, narrowing his eyes. "You must have only the best if you expect to engage in a night of passion with our mother-"

"Whoa! Stop it! There is no night of passion!" Steve's face was so hot- well, it would have come in handy when he was a Capsicle. "I didn't- I don't- I-" He took a breath. "This is all a misunderstanding!"

Thor snorted with laughter. As if it was a trigger, Frigga started giggling. Thor burst out laughing, slapping his knees. Steve stared at him first, and then at Frigga. Lastly he looked at Loki, who was still dead serious.

"What are you waiting for? Go get the champagne," Loki ordered, pointing to the door.

"I don't understand what's happening," Steve said.

Loki's face twitched, and the next second he was laughing too. The three Asgardians bumped their fists together and continued laughing so hard that they couldn't speak. Tears rolled down Thor's face. Loki would almost get himself back under control, but then look at Steve's expression and it would set him off again. Steve stared at them for a good long while, waiting for an explanation, but decided that it wasn't going to be forthcoming while they were all cracking up like they were, and so shook his head and left the library.

Chapter Text

Frigga held Loki's small hands, supporting him as he walked, his gaze on his feet, his face twisted with concentration. His skin was pale with the effort. Bruce shook his head as he walked into the room.

"Look, even though I think your exercise regime is a little overkill, I still let you do it. Will you please please give me this and rest for a while?"

"It is not overkill."

"Walking, yoga, weight training, swimming, and who knows what else you've added less than two weeks since you've healed of a substantial injury? Overkill."

"Fine," Loki replied through gritted teeth. "Three more steps and I'll rest."

Bruce noted how shaky the toddler demigod was, and was glad that he at least let Frigga help him. The doctor glanced at her briefly, and she gave him a small smile of greeting. "He wants to walk more than he did yesterday."

"And don't tell me not to push myself too hard," Loki added quickly before Bruce could do just that. "I am going to start walking again so I can discontinue employing these demeaning diapers."

"Nice alliteration," Bruce chuckled, and then stopped. "I thought you said three steps."

Loki took two steps more than his goal before stopping to allow Frigga to scoop him up. He was pale, and Bruce handed him the juice box and cookie that he had brought from the kitchen.

"Thank you, Doctor," he said as Frigga set him down on the desk chair. His hands were uncoordinated as he pulled the straw from the side of the box, but he was able to poke it through the small hole in the top of the box. He hadn't been able to do that much only two days ago.

"And you're feeling okay?"

"Yes, I am fine. There is no lingering pain, my toes wiggle just fine, and I don't have pins and needs in my legs."

"Needles," Bruce corrected. "Pins and needles."

"Needles, then," Loki replied. He drank some of the juice. "I just need to regain my strength and then I will be fine."

Frigga cradled his head and smiled into his hair, Loki wouldn't see how sad it was."You are doing well, Loki," she said.

Loki glanced at her briefly and then found the floor shockingly interesting. His guilty feelings were obvious. "I am trying," he said softly.

"Dr Banner," Frigga said, standing, "could you please show me where to find the glassware in the kitchen? I'm afraid that I am finding this house a bit difficult to navigate."

"Of course, this way please."

Walking up the hall, Bruce voiced his surprise out loud: "He knows that was just a ploy, doesn't he?"

"Perhaps, although on one occasion I promised him a glass of water and didn't return for a quarter hour."

"His colour's better than it has been," said Bruce as they entered the kitchen, "but how is he really?"

Frigga scanned the cupboards. "Is there any rhyme or reason to this room?" she asked finally.

Bruce had himself a light bulb moment: "A second please," and started rifling through drawers.

"He pushes himself too hard," said Frigga. "He has always been fiercely independent. Not once has he ever asked for help." She took a deep, collecting breath. "I fear that there may have been damage to his body that not even Yggdrasill can heal." Her brow was still furrowed and her eyes troubled.

"Aha!" exclaimed Bruce, brandishing a label-maker. "What were you looking for?"

"Something on the tall side," she replied.

Bruce typed out 'Glasses on the tall side', opened a few cupboards until he found the right one, stuck a label under the handle and presented a glass. "With any luck," he said with a smile, "this will make breakfast less of a Comedy of Errors."

She accepted it with a soft smile, "Thank you, Dr. Banner," she began turning it over in her hands.

"Happy to help," he replied, "Goodness knows I've been meaning to do this for ages."

"And I've been meaning to thank you as well, for I know that you acted to the best of your capabilities to help Loki recover."

"He told you that?" Bruce asked, surprised.

Frigga shook her head. "Heimdall was watching." She hesitated a moment. "Did he ever speak of me?"

Bruce shifted uncomfortably. "No, not while he was conscious. But when he had nightmares he'd call for you in his sleep. But, um, when he first was here with the Vladkini thing and we were going to... remove it, he did tell Thor to... didn't Thor tell you?" he asked, practically pleading.

"Whatever Loki told Thor, Thor is waiting for him to tell me," Frigga sighed. "He took it on himself to tell too much in the past, and is trying to make up for it by not speaking of anything that Loki has said or done recently. He wants to respect his brother's privacy like that, but Loki, I think, expects him to tell me more than he has."

"Oh." Bruce looked around the kitchen as if Thor would suddenly appear and spare him from having to tell Frigga. It was something that he thought she should hear from one of her sons, not him.

"Dr Banner?" Frigga pressed.

"Maybe you should ask Thor."

Frigga frowned, her composure slipping slightly. "Is it that bad?"

"No!" Bruce shook his head. "No, it's not like that. It's just... I don't really feel like it's my place... you know..." he trailed off as Frigga stared at him with calm but pleading eyes. He sighed. "He wanted you to know that he was sorry for hurting you. That's all."

Frigga's brow briefly furrowed. "He has not told me that himself. I should not be surprised. Long past are the days that he felt he could tell me his problems, and his fears."

Bruce couldn't look at the sorrow in her eyes. He didn't remember his birth mother well, but he knew that his adoptive mother loved him just as much as any mother could. And he knew that Frigga loved Loki with that same love. "If it's worth anything, I think he's happy that you're here."

Frigga smiled sadly. "Thank you, Dr Banner. I should return to my son now."

Bruce nodded and didn't leave the kitchen with her.

"JARVIS, any luck with the forecast program?"

-Mixed sun and clouds for the rest of the day.-

"Not that forecast. I mean with those energy spikes."

-Perhaps you should change the name of the program, or be more specific then.-

Bruce smirked. "Snarky today, are we?"

-Snarky is not the term I'd use, sir. The results show a location within a ten-mile radius, but the timing is still off by more than five hours,- replied JARVIS.

"Alright, I think I may have an idea on how to narrow the window."

-I will prepare the lab.-

#

Tony decided that chocolate chip cookies were a good item to take with him when he went to see Loki, although he couldn't say exactly why he was going. He munched happily on one as he entered the room. The toddler demigod was putting together a model of some sort, glancing up only briefly. Tony sat down, smirking when he saw the model Loki was gluing together.

"It's not real, you know."

"What isn't?"

"The Death Star." Loki stared at him as if he was mad. Tony reached for a second cookie. "That. It's a model of the Death Star. It won't actually blow anything up, let alone whole planets."

"You are making no sense."

"Haven't you seen Star Wars yet?"

"Star Wars?"

"It's a movie, about a war. In space."

Loki rolled his eyes. "You humans and your names."

"Hey, you're the one-"

"Yes, I am well aware that I tried to take this planet," Loki interrupted. "And might I remind you that I did not succeed?"

"You don't need to remind me."

Loki rested his elbows on the table and massaged his temples. "Did Pepper send you here?"

"Nope, I came all on my own. Have a cookie."

"You're not going to be able to fit in your Iron Man suits if you keep eating like that," Loki warned, picking out a cookie.

"Are you calling me fat?"

"Not yet." Loki inspected the cookie, but didn't eat. After a moment he set it down, and Tony had the feeling it was an object of great importance and Loki was a tired and ancient philosopher who'd spent his entire life looking for the truth. "Are you looking for an apology, Mr. Stark?"

"An apology?" Tony repeated, surprised and sarcastic. "What for?"

Loki simply gazed at him without speaking.

"Well, it would be a start."

"The start for what?" Loki asked, and though he remained looking as tired as an old man his voice tensed with frustration. "What is an apology? Nothing but words. Words are useless, Mr. Stark. They don't change anything. They don't prevent past actions. They don't bring the dead back to life."

"You're a real downer, you know that?" Tony replied, rolling his eyes.

"It's the truth."

"You're supposed to be the god of mischief and lies."

Loki snorted bitterly. "And look where that got me."

"It got you cookies," Tony retorted, pushing the plate towards him.

A ghost of a smile flitted over Loki's face. "Even if I was to apologise, I wouldn't mean it."

"Then don't apologise. Eat a cookie."

Loki inspected the plate. "Your insistence worries me."

"Why?"

"Why are you really here?"

"It's my house."

Loki rolled his eyes.

Tony shrugged. "That's actually a good question. I don't really know. I guess I just want to tell you to stop being so darn adorable."

Loki rolled his eyes again, grunting in frustration. "Again with the cuteness! I am not cute."

"Yes, you are, and I'm working on a list to prove it. Especially when you roll your eyes and pout like that," Tony argued. "Now stop it. Pepper's starting to want one."

Loki's brow furrowed. "Any child would be lucky to have her for a mother."

"Yeah, they would," Tony agreed. "But I would be their father."

Tony remembered whom he was talking to a fraction too late. He winced, and hurriedly shoved another cookie into his mouth to stop himself from saying anything else.

Loki frowned at him. "Are you afraid of being a father?"

"No," Tony lied through a mouthful of cookie. It was as good as an admission of truth. He grunted with annoyance at himself. "I don't know how to be a father. My dad wasn't exactly a great example. He told me he cared once- a couple decades after he died."

Loki raised his eyebrows. "Are bad family relationships a prerequisite to becoming an Avenger?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing," Loki said quickly.

Tony didn't like that. Loki was avoiding his eye, a wrinkle in his young brow.

"Alright, whatever."

"You don't have to repeat your father's mistake, Mr Stark. Besides, between Pepper and JARVIS, I'm sure you'd have enough guidance for being a father. Although you would have to stop drinking like a fish."

Tony stared. "I have no idea how to respond to that."

"Good, maybe you'll leave me alone now," Loki muttered and dropped his head back to his arms. Tony frowned- the kid looked beaten, utterly and hopelessly defeated. It was not a good look.

"Maybe I will," the billionaire murmured.

Loki turned back to his model, trying to fit two pieces together. His coordination still wasn't that great, and his hands shook slightly.

Tony hesitated a moment. "Would you like some help with that?"

Loki gave him a puzzled look.

"I can hold the pieces together after you glue them."

"Why?"

Tony shrugged, and scooted his chair closer. "I haven't put together a model like this for years. Too busy with saving the world and press conferences, I guess. And board meetings. I hate board meetings, but I have to go or people get whiny. And I can't even draw pictures in my notepad because Pepper expects me to take notes."

Loki handed them over and Tony subtly shifted them so that they were locked together correctly. Loki picked up the tube of glue, but squeezed it too hard. A dollop squirted out and landed on the writing desk. Tony winced before he could stop himself.

"Pepper's gonna kill me over the desk," he explained. "It was probably expensive."

Grunting with frustration, Loki threw down the glue and shook his head. "I'm done."

Tony was suddenly transported to the one and only time he and his father built a model together. The attempt ended with a sharp rebuke from Howard Stark, a ruined suit, hidden tears, and a hatred of green cars.

All he wanted was for Howard to realize it wasn't his fault. The tube had issues! Tony had pressed gently, but nothing happened so he eased on a little more pressure, and...

"Glue's pesky that way. Besides, it doesn't have to be perfect."

"Why did you volunteer to help, if not to ensure that it was?"

"Because it's been a long time since I put one of these... Oh." The last time he had tried to put together a model like this was the same time that Howard had tried to help him. He frowned.

Loki glared up at him. "Then you can put it together somewhere else."

Tony wondered if he was that cute when he was a glaring child.

And it hit him. Hit him like an old lady's purse full of coins and he groaned loudly.

Pepper wanted one! Not him! He had never even thought about having kids. Until now.

"Terrific," he muttered to himself. "Absolutely terrific!"

Loki raised his eyebrows.

"Pepper- me, go- I have to talk with Pepper." Tony handed Loki back the model parts. Loki looked puzzled, but didn't speak while Tony left.

Chapter Text

Pepper was typing a lengthy letter when Tony slipped up behind and kissed her neck. She rolled her eyes and playfully elbowed him in the gut. Truthfully, she liked the distraction but at the same time she really needed to get this stupid letter done right away. And if she allowed Tony five minutes of her time, , it wasn't going to get done at all, because he would take the five minutes a mile.

"I'm working," she complained half-heartedly.

"I see that," he replied, "You know, I was thinking."

"Always dangerous words coming fromTony Stark," she teased lightly, ignoring her own warning bells and turning from the computer.

"Always," he agreed as he pulled her to her feet and into his arms.

"What were you thinking?"

"That you'd be a great mother."

The teasing lightness evaporated. She searched Tony's face to see if he was serious. He waited patiently. She pulled away from him so that they were arm's length apart. He was serious. She had never seen him so serious before.

"Oh," she said softly.

"Yeah."

"Oh. I- Tony, I don't what to say." Pepper laughed suddenly. "I knew you were starting to want one."

"Am I the only one?"

Pepper's smile widened. "No."

Tony shifted somewhat awkwardly. "So should we get married then?"

Pepper rolled her eyes and playfully slapped his arm. "That's a real romantic proposal. I think we should both just think on this for a while, actually. I mean, I've been thinking about it for a while, but that was before I knew that you were thinking about it. So now that we both know that we're thinking about it, we should think about it together... I'm not making any sense, am I?"

"I think you are, sort of. I mean, I wasn't expecting to rush out to Vegas or anything," Tony assured her.

"Good, because we are not getting married in Vegas."

"Why not?"

Pepper rolled her eyes again and kissed his cheek. "We can talk more later. I really, really need to get this letter done. It should have been done yesterday... I love you, Tony."

"I love you, too."

Pepper bit her lip as Tony grinned at her and slowly walked away. She really, really wanted to ignore that letter. But she couldn't. Could she?

#

"Wow," Natasha said, leaning back in her chair. "I haven't lost this quickly at chess for years."

Frigga chuckled. "Don't feel bad, Agent Romanoff. I cheated."

"What? When?" Natasha demanded.

"Perhaps Thor didn't need help with the smoothie maker." Frigga smiled sheepishly, but her eyes twinkled. "I took one of your pawns."

Natasha shook her head, dumbfounded. "I lost because of a pawn?"

"Sauron lost because of a hobbit."

"Lord of the Rings references, nice. I wouldn't have thought it." Natasha contemplated Frigga as they began to pick up the game. She shook her head. "I also wouldn't have thought that a queen would cheat to win at chess."

Frigga laughed. "I'm not a queen here. There are no gossiping courts, no elders to scandalise, no political clowns-" she cut off and cleared her throat. "No politics to deal with. Believe it or not, Agent Romanoff, I had quite the streak of rebellion and mischief when I was a child. I always wanted things my way, and I would get into terrible trouble trying to get them." She paused and a dark cloud crossed her face. "Truly terrible trouble at times."

Natasha frowned as Frigga lost herself in a memory She was gone for scarcely a moment and then she shook her head and her smile returned.

"But when one is a queen, one must be very careful. Gossiping tongues are not the worst things she must face."

Natasha wanted to ask what that mean, but at that moment, JARVIS spoke.

-Excuse me, Frigga, Loki is waking from his nap.-

"Thank you, JARVIS," Frigga replied.

"Go on. I'll finish cleaning up here," Natasha volunteered.

Frigga smiled her thanks and slipped away.

Just like Natasha's smile.

" JARVIS?"

-Yes, Agent Romanoff?-

"Where's Barton?"

-He has just returned from a run. Would you like me to inform him that you wish to speak with him?-

"No." Natasha hastily finished cleaning up the game.

-I do wish that you two would stop fighting.-

Natasha shook her head. "I'm not talking to him until he's ready to talk to me."

-Agent Romanoff,-

"I don't want to hear it, JARVIS."

-Very well.-

#

Steve hurried to catch up with Barton as they returned to Stark tower after yet another unsuccessful mission. Banner and Stark had assured Steve that they had cracked the pattern, and that they knew exactly when and where the next energy surge would take place. Unfortunately when they arrived at the location, half an hour before the surge was supposed to take place, nothing happened. They had waited until Banner called from the tower, sheepishly informing them that they had gotten it wrong again – the energy surge took place sixty miles to the north, and when the team arrived there was nothing left to find.

"Barton," Steve called, knowing that his teammate knew that he was there but also ignoring him.

Barton stopped reluctantly and turned. "What's up, Cap?"

"How are you holding up?"

"Fine. Why do you ask?"

"Agent Romanoff told me that she's worried about you."

"She hasn't said anything to me," Barton said briskly, turning away.

"She came to me because apparently you've been avoiding her, or else she would have spoken with you," Steve replied sharply. "I know that there's something really wrong when Romanoff is talking to me instead of you about your problems, Barton."

"Look, I've just been busy, okay?"

"Barton-"

Barton stopped and turned to the captain with a stony look. "You gonna make me go see that shrink again?"

"No, I think he is getting therapy now," Steve replied without missing a beat. Barton snickered. "We're all worried about you, Clint. You look like you haven't slept in a week."

"I haven't slept since Loki put me under the control of the scepter," Barton replied bluntly. "And I doubt I'm going to be sleeping any time soon, either."

Steve looked away guiltily. He had been spending so much time making sure that Thor realised that the team wasn't going to abandon him that he had neglected Barton. With all the drama going on with Loki, it was easy to remember Thor. Barton, however, was trained to stay in the shadows, to seek cover, to be unnoticed. It didn't give Steve any excuse, though. He shouldn't have been so focused on only one member of his team. It wasn't what a leader should do.

"Look, Cap, I appreciate your concern, but quit trying to fix this. You're busy enough with the Loki fiasco, especially now his mom's arrived. You're a super soldier, Steve, not a politician or a psychiatrist or Superman."

"Are you telling me to mind my own business?"

"Maybe." Barton's eyes dared him to say otherwise.

"You have to talk with someone. I don't expect you to talk to me, or a shrink. That was probably the stupidest idea I ever had... but talk with someone. Natasha's really worried. And to be frank the fact that you haven't been talking with her worries me more than anything else."

"Okay. I'll talk with someone," Barton replied quickly. "We done?"

Steve nodded reluctantly. As Barton walked away, he couldn't help but think that the assassin wasn't going to talk to anybody at all, but he couldn't force the man to talk about his problems.

Steve sighed and headed to the labs where Stark and Banner would be refining their tracking algorithm. Hopefully somebody had made some progress with something.

#

Loki couldn't close his eyes. He stared into the darkness, memories playing though his mind. Sitting on his mother's knee as she read to him. Playing games with Thor and his friends. Odin telling the stories of his youth. Being laughed at because Sif had bested him in a fight. Following Thor into battle. Thor saving his life. Saving Thor's life. Following Thor to Jotunhiem. The frost giant grabbing his arm... watching in horror as his skin turned blue. Thor banished. Odin falling into the Odinsleep. Being handed Gungnir. Sending the Destroyer to kill Thor. Falling into the abyss. Being swallowed by the blackness. The despair, the hopelessness, the guilt. Thanos. The rage, the anger, the hate.

Loki closed his eyes against the darkness, but was only met with more darkness. There was no end to it.

#

Thor was woken suddenly by the sense that he wasn't alone. He swung wide, and fell with a crash onto the floor. He blinked in confusion as he sat up because there was a distinct lack of intruders.. He stretched, wondering if he had been dreaming. It took him a moment to realise that when he had gone to sleep, the light had been off. It was on now.

"Seriously?" asked an amused voice.

Thor looked up and saw Loki standing on the bed with a smirk.

"Loki," Thor grumbled. "I was sleeping."

"Like a rock," Loki giggled. "And you awoke oh so gracefully."

Loki stepped forward but his feet tangled in the blankets and with a choked yelp, nosedived right into Thor's arm. Thor caught him and set him upright. He grinned as Loki rubbed his nose, looking slightly cross-eyed.

"Shut up," Loki snapped.

"I didn't say anything."

"You were thinking it and I reiterate: shut up."

Thor snorted. Loki attempted a glare, but a grin tugged at his lips.

"Why did you wake me?"

"I couldn't sleep," Loki replied, as if that reason alone could justify murder.

"And you decided to wake me?" Thor asked, shocked and still slightly pleased that his brother would seek him out.

"I-" Loki's gaze moved up towards the ceiling.

"Loki?"

"Tell me what happened. On the bridge."

Thor's brows knitted. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"Yes you do. Now tell me."

Loki was sitting entirely too still, and Thor knew that his brother was dreading what he was going to hear. He wasn't sure where to start.

"I believe you know of the Ladies Jane and Darcy?"

Loki nodded. And so he started from when he got back to Asgard after defeating the Destroyer on earth. Loki sat still, not interrupting or moving. When Thor was finished, the brothers sat in silence.

"I remember sending the Destroyer after you," Loki said finally."I remember trying to destroy Jotunhiem, and goading you into fighting me. But I still remember you throwing me off the bridge. Thor, did I really let go?"

Thor nodded once. Loki searched his face. He suddenly pulled his knees to his chest. He looked like a lost, frightened child, but Thor didn't know what to do. He wanted to reach out to Loki, but felt that his brother's pride would not accept it. He was afraid to speak for fear of breaking the fragile eye contact.

"Either you have become a clever liar, brother, or I went mad long before I even feared that I was going to."

"You called me brother," Thor blurted. Not the correct response, perhaps, but it just popped out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

Loki looked surprised, but a slow smile still crept onto his face. "Yes. Yes, I did."

They smiled at each other for a long time. Thor was reminded of the times when there were children, and they would have contests to see who could go the longest without blinking. It was a comfortable silence.

"I win," Loki said softly when a yawn forced Thor to break eye contact. His smile widened. Loki stood. "I had best get back to my room."

Thor didn't want to lose the brief moment of recaptured brotherhood. "You don't have to."

Loki hesitated. "I heard Pepper talking about a game called Cluedo. It sounded interesting."

Thor grinned. "Then let's go find it."

Chapter Text

"Miss Potts?"

Pepper looked up from her mountain of paperwork to see Frigga standing in the doorway. Pepper got to her feet, smiling welcomingly. "What can I do for you?"

Frigga walked in. "We have not had a chance to speak, but I see now is a bad time."

Pepper moved out from behind the papers and gestured to two chairs nearby. "It's fine. I need a break, anyway. Have a seat. And you can call me Pepper."

"And you may call me Frigga. I know that your colleagues are uncertain as to how to address me."

Pepper smiled briefly. "None of us have ever met a queen before. Well, except Tony but... I don't really want to get into what happened there." She simultaneously laughed and shuddered.

"I have not thanked you properly for the care that you have given to Loki. It is a comfort to me, knowing that you and Dr Banner were here." Frigga glanced briefly at her hands. "It is too kind of you, seeing as how he hurt your world."

"Thank you. That really means a lot. Loki's very... well, he's not what I expected. You watch movies and the guy who's trying to take over the world is all monologues and vicious threats. They never have brothers or write carefully worded non-apologies or wish that their mothers were with them."

Frigga's brows arched questioningly.

"A few days before you arrived he told me that he wished that you were here," Pepper told her. "He loves you very much."

"He has forgotten how to say it."

Pepper twisted her hands. Since when had talking to other people become so difficult? Right. Since that person was an alien queen. "He is getting better, though. When he first came here, it seemed like he was incapable of speaking civilly to Thor, but this morning I found them sleeping in the TV room with a game of Monopoly set up. I guess they fell asleep before they finished the game."

"I saw. It has been a long time since they spent time together as brothers, rather than the princes of Asgard. I have hope for him, Pepper, but the people of Asgard do not see him the same way anymore. His father will not give into their demands for his death, but I do not know what will happen. I fear that at the very least, Loki will be banished.

"Since the loss of the bifrost," the queen continued, "there has been unrest and fear among the people. They fear that we are helpless without that ancient power, and I believe that they are putting their fears on Loki. They think that he is the cause of all their problems, and if he..."

Frigga may have been the queen of Asgard, but Pepper saw that she was also a mother and a woman who needed comforting. She reached out and squeezed Frigga's hand. "We will care for him for as long as he is here."

"Thank you," Frigga smiled. "And I trust that as long as he remains on earth he will be safe... and healing. This is a strange world. It is full of its own magic. Not many in Asgard can see the wonder of mortals. I never understood, not until I came here. It is no wonder that Odin chose this realm to send first Thor and now Loki. You humans are amazing creatures."

Pepper snorted softly. "Well, thanks, but we're really not."

"And that, perhaps, is why you are."

#

Tony Stark and Pepper Potts marry in secret ceremony! the headline of the shiny tabloid magazine screamed out. Loki snorted as he read the article. Apparently, Pepper and Stark had gone to city hall in disguise and exchanged their vows. Did humans have nothing better to do than make up ridiculous stories? If the two had been married, then the Avengers would know about it, and none of them had said anything.

Loki sighed and slid the silly magazine under his model of the Death Star on the desk. He was uncertain whether or not he was still confined to his room, seeing as the door was left open most times, but still stayed within it at all times unless accompanied by one of the Avengers. Even his meals were eaten in solitude, with only his mother, Thor, Banner or Pepper for company. He was rarely left alone for more than a few minutes, it was true, but the uncertainty of his fate was a constant source of concern for him. He did not know what to do, or even what to think.

He closed his eyes, sighing again. He deserved no less than death for the crimes he had committed. And he was coming to realise that Agent Romanoff had been right. Some part of him did want to die, to end the sorrow and guilt.

But the truth of the matter, it was only because he couldn't hope, not even when his mother held him tight and told him that she loved him, that he could ever be redeemed. He was a monster, and monsters couldn't change, no matter how much they wanted to. No matter how much their mothers loved them.

He looked up when he heard Barton's footsteps in the corridor. He hadn't spoken to the assassin since the video. And when Barton stopped outside the door, looking in at him with a cold expression, Loki wondered if his punishment was coming at last.

"You're looking better," Barton said.

Loki was silent.

Barton moseyed into the room, his expression calculating and challenging and cold all at once.

"Here again, are we?" Loki said evenly. "Have you decided what you want me to do to keep you from showing that video to my mother?"

Barton shrugged. "I don't think you'd actually do anything that I've come up with yet."

"And what have you come up with?"

"Thor mentioned a vili eiga vow."

Loki laughed more in surprise than anything else. How could Barton think that could even be an option? "There is nothing in this universe that would make me take such a vow."

"In other words, you would never give up your free will? Imagine that. I wonder what that would be like, not being able to control your own actions," Barton said, covering up his anger with sarcasm, but his eyes flashed.

"I certainly have no idea," Loki replied coolly. He studied Barton for a moment. The assassin's skin was drawn and there were dark circles under his eyes. Loki smirked, but it was bitter rather than mocking. "You still have nightmares about it, don't you? Those sleeping pills you gave Thor… those were yours. They don't help, do they?"

"Shut up."

"You are the one who keeps seeking me out, Agent Barton," Loki reminded him. "Does it make you feel better? Does it help you hate me more and dull your guilt?"

"I told you to shut up."

Loki shrugged in a sort of surrender. He found no enjoyment in tormenting Barton anymore. He wished that assassin would just go away, and stop reminding him of the evil that dwelt in his heart. He clung to his hatred of Barton because it helped him not hate himself so much, but was becoming harder to do.

"A stolen relic," Barton said, and it was suddenly very easy to hate him fully. "What did you mean by that?"

"You told me to shut up."

"And yet you're still talking. If you don't stop, I will show that video to your mother."

Loki would have liked to point out that Barton just asked him a question, but remained silent.

"You know what I think?"

Loki grabbed a pen and piece of paper. Do tell, he wrote as sarcastically as he could.

Barton smirked when he read it. "Your life has no meaning. You have no purpose. You decided that your family could not possibly be your family and if they weren't your family, they couldn't love you. So you decided that you would no longer love them." Barton was silent for a moment, gauging the effect his words were having. Loki returned his gaze silently, trying to look bored. "It didn't work. You still love them. And since they still love you, you decided to hate yourself."

And why do you hate yourself? Loki wrote, and pushed the paper towards Barton determinedly.

"So you're not even going to try to deny that you hate yourself?"

"Don't see the point."

"I didn't tell you that you could start talking again."

"And I am getting tired of this game. You will never feel as though justice has been served, not even if you were to torture me until I begged for death-"

"Torture you?" Barton interrupted, and his brow furrowed. "Let's get one thing straight.I do not want to torture you. I want you ended, that's all."

"We are far too similar for me to believe that."

"I am not you."

There was no use in going down that road. "The fact of the matter is if you keep seeking revenge on me, all you will accomplish is a continued alienation of your friends."

Barton snorted. "Is this you giving me advice for my personal life?"

Loki clenched his jaw. "Don't be pathetic. I'm just tired of you wasting my time when I could be building this." He gestured to the partially completed model.

"The Death Star? It's not real, you know," Barton said, but his words held none of the joke that Stark's had when he had used that same phrase.

Loki hissed in anger. "What do you want from me, Barton? Do you want me to give you a reason to kill me? Do you want me to kill myself? You already know that I will not give you that satisfaction. Or would you be satisfied if I begged you to leave me alone?"

"I want to sleep at night," Barton snarled.

"That is not going to happen. You will never sleep again."

Barton's eyes narrowed. Loki glared back.

"I want you to go to hell."

A bitter smile twisted Loki's lips. "Well, that's where I'm going. Maybe not today, maybe not for a thousand years, but I'll get there eventually."

Barton's gaze held steady and unreadable. "As long as you're certain."

Barton stood to leave. Loki wasn't about to let him have the last word."

"Agent Barton. What is that phrase that humans use? I'll save you a place by the fire."

Barton didn't even turn around as he left. Loki kicked the wall, angry and frustrated with everything. Why had be thought it would be a good idea to be so open with Barton? He knew he would never be free of the assassin. Not while he was on earth. Not while he was alive. Loki turned back to the desk and leaned his head against the cool wood.

Chapter Text

Loki stood underneath the towering doorway that lead from his room. "JARVIS?"

-Yes, Master Odinson?-

Loki glared upwards. "Not that I mind you calling me "master" but could you drop the "Odinson"?"

-Why would I do that?- JARVIS replied in the perfect innocence of a naive child.

"Odin isn't my father."

-That is not what I have been told.-

Loki opened his mouth to continue the argument, but decided against it. No point. "Am I allowed to leave my room unaccompanied?"

-There are no protocols to say that you cannot.-

Loki frowned. "I feel like I have been very cooperative and perhaps even a little overcautious these last few days. Nobody has told me what I'm expected to do or not do... And besides, if they wanted to keep me in here, they'd put a childproof lock on the handle. I'm going to the kitchen."

-Shall I play dramatic music?- JARVIS asked, his automated voice completely serious.

Loki snorted. "I think I'll be fine, thanks."

There was nobody in the kitchen when Loki entered, so he stood still for some time. This was far more awkward than it had been before. His stomach loudly reminded him why he had risked this venture. "JARVIS, are there any poptarts around?"

-In the cupboard above the dishwasher.-

"Thank you."

Loki dragged a chair over to the mentioned cupboard. He climbed up and ruffled around the box until he found what he was looking for. Blueberry. Perfect. Loki's mouth began to water as he clamoured back down. He began to push the chair in the other direction, to the toaster, carrying the package in his mouth.

Halfway there, Thor's voice interrupted his daydreams of biting into a warm, sweet fruity center wrapped in a flaky pastry crust.

"If you would like to wait in the kitchen, I shall go find my mother."

Loki stopped, frozen in place. Thor's mortal lady friend and her colleagues were coming to meet Frigga today. What was the word that Banner used in such situations? Crap. Crappity crap crap with a cherry on top.

What to do? The sink! He could hide in the space under it- Too late.

It was highly embarrassing, Loki decided, to be caught with a poptart package dangling out of his mouth, pushing a chair, staring at the doorway when he first met Jane Foster in person. She stopped in the doorway, flanked by her comic sidekick – Darcy Lewis, Loki remembered – and Erik Selvig.

He should have changed before leaving his room. They may have been comfortable, but the teddy-bear sleepers were too cute to make first impressions with.

Except this wasn't a first impression with Erik Selvig.

Foster turned slightly, starting to say Thor's name, but stopped. Lewis looked bemused. Selvig's lips drew tight and his eyes narrowed.

Awkward.

Well, no point in hiding now. Loki turned away from them, finished pushing the chair to the counter, and then climbed up. He put his poptarts in the toaster and then walked along the counter to get a plate. While he waited for the toaster to finish, he sat on the counter and picked up a newspaper so that he wouldn't have to look at the mortals. Barton was bad enough, but Selvig here as well? Maybe leaving his room at this time wasn't a great idea.

"Where are we going tonight?" Lewis asked, breaking the silence.

"We aren't going anywhere," Foster replied. "Thor and I are going to dinner. Alone."

"He invited us."

"You're not coming. I haven't had any time alone with him since-"

"Because he keeps inviting us along," Selvig interrupted. His voice was tense, but he tried to sound teasing.

Loki couldn't help but smirk. For all the women falling over themselves for you, Thor, you're still clueless to how to act around them.

"Yeah, we don't know anything about Asgardian customs at all," Lewis was saying. "You don't know what eating alone together might mean for your relationship."

Loki hesitated. It was his first venture out of his room by himself. Plus it was his first official meeting with Thor's lady friend. He shouldn't cause trouble... On the other hand, as long as he didn't take it too far, it couldn't hurt... He lowered the newspaper to look at the humans. They were determinedly facing away from him.

"Excuse me," he said, setting the newspaper aside. "Miss Foster, your friend has a point."

"I do?"

Loki nodded. "On Asgard, when a man and woman take a meal together without any other attendants of the same rank, it is the same thing as a wedding. Of course, there are more formal ceremonies that follow, but after that first meal they are husband and wife."

Foster's brows furrowed, like she couldn't quite decide if she believed him or not. The poptarts popped from the toaster, and Loki picked them out and put them on the plate to cool. He had to fight not to smirk.

"You know what?" Lewis said with the air of remembrance. "I kinda remember Thor telling me something like that."

Selvig raised his eyebrows at her, but Foster's expression turned to acceptance. "Oh. Well, that explains a few things." She sat and thought for a moment. "Where's the washroom?"

"There's one down the corridor that way." Loki pointed.

After she was gone, Selvig turned to Lewis. "And when did Thor tell you that eating alone together was a marriage?"

"He didn't," Lewis replied, not at all ashamed. She turned back to Loki. "That's not real, right?"

"No. It's not.

"Hmm." Lewis studied him for a moment. "You're Thor's brother, huh?"

"Yes."

Lewis proper her chin in her hand, resting her elbow on the table as she sat down. "You look younger than I expected."

"I get that a lot."

"And cuter." Loki rolled his eyes. Lewis started giggling. "So, taking over the world. How did that work? Didn't it keep you up past your bedtime?"

"Darcy," Selvig said in an undertone, warningly.

The poptart was defiantly cooled down enough.

"What? I- Oh, hi Thor!" Lewis waved as Thor entered the kitchen with Frigga.

"Mother, these are my friends, Darcy Lewis and Erik Selvig. This is my mother, Frigga," Thor introduced, glancing around. His gaze lingered on Loki for a moment, and Loki waited for him to comment, but the god of thunder just turned back at his friends. "Where is Jane?"

"She went to the washroom," Lewis replied. "So, Thor, I know you invited Erik and me to join you and Jane for dinner, but I really think that you and her better have some time alone. She's been talking about this visit ever since you phoned her. She was really looking forward to a dinner with just the two of you. You know, catching up and all that. But don't tell her that I said anything."

Loki grinned at the masterful way Lewis kept her expression completely serious. Selvig rolled his eyes, but didn't comment.

"She does?" Thor said. "Oh. I didn't think-"

"Thor, of course she wants to spend time with you and you alone," Frigga said teasingly. "Are those poptarts?"

"You want one?" Loki asked his mother as she walked over to him. With a hum of satisfaction, Frigga took one and bit into it.

"I guess that you've both met Loki," Thor said, sounding awkward as he addressed Lewis and Selvig.

Foster came back then. Thor practically bounded over to her and took her hand in his. He beamed – Loki had never seen him smile so brightly – and pulled her over to Frigga. Foster looked nervous, but she smiled at Thor, biting her lower lip. Loki decided that he kind of liked her. She obviously made Thor happy, even if it would never work between the two of them.

"Mother, this is Jane Foster. Jane, this is my mother, and my brother."

"It's nice meeting you," Foster said, clinging to Thor's hand. She smiled at Frigga, but didn't look at Loki.

"And you. Thor has told me a lot about you. I've been looking forward to meeting you," Frigga smiled warmly.

"Thanks," Foster twined her hand in Thor's. "So where are we going for dinner? Darcy said she wanted to go to Crazy Mikes or something like that."

"Actually, I think that maybe you and I could have some time with just the two of us," Thor replied. "Perhaps we could go to dinner without the others?"

Loki grinned. He caught Lewis's eyes for a brief moment and her grin echoed his.

"No! I don't really think we need to do that yet," Foster practically shouted. Her face grew red. "I mean, you haven't seen Darcy or Erik for a while and I really want to get to know your mother better-"

"There will plenty of time for that," Thor replied, his brow puckering. "I thought it would be nice to-"

"No! No, I really don't think that-"

"Miss Foster, I'm sure that there are some misconceptions happening in this situation," Frigga interrupted. She turned to Loki and gave him the stern look that he knew well. "Loki?"

Loki tried to look innocent. "All I said was that on Asgard a meal eaten alone was a wedding ceremony. It's not my fault she believed me. Besides, she backed me up," Loki was quick to add, pointing at Lewis.

"Darcy!" Foster snarled.

Lewis shrugged, looking supremely proud of herself.

"Loki!" Thor scolded.

"Well, brother, if she is going to one day be queen of Asgard she should start learning the customs immediately."

"Wha-?" Foster gasped.

"Queen? Jane?" Lewis asked, all laughter lost from her expression.

Thor looked perturbed. "Loki, that's enough."

Loki surveyed the reactions that his statement had gotten, and he nodded. "You're right. I went too far with that. But you are courting the heir to the throne. Surely it has crossed your mind," he said to Foster.

She stared back at him as if a bomb had gone off inside her head. "No, actually, it never did."

She looked frightened. Thor wasn't quite glaring at Loki, but close. Frigga shook her head and put a comforting hand on Foster's shoulder. Selvig wasn't trying to hide his displeasure with the proceedings.

"Well, this has gotten very awkward, very quickly," Loki said, putting the empty plate in the sink. He climbed back down to the floor. "Good-day."

He went back to his room. So much for his first excursion out. He did sincerely hope that he hadn't put a damp cloud over Thor's visit with his friends. Sitting down on his little bed, Loki sighed. After this, Frigga would probably end up going with the group to help smooth out their fears. Pepper wouldn't get home for a few more hours. Banner was busy with whatever the Avengers were busy with. Meaning that he was probably going to be alone for a while yet. Well. Back to the Robert Munch conspiracy theory.

There was a knock on the door and Thor entered.

"I apologise if I frightened Miss Foster with future worries," Loki told him.

"You did," Thor replied, somewhat accusingly. "Mother thinks that she should have some time to talk with Jane alone, given your... conversation. They will be going to go to dinner so that they may talk."

"Did I ruin their visit?"

Thor shook his head. "They were going to need to get to know each other sooner or later. Darcy, Erik and I are still going to go to Crazy Mike's, though."

"Have fun."

"Would you like to join us?"

Loki frowned. "Am I allowed to leave the tower?"

It was Thor's turn to frown. "If you weren't, would I offer?"

"I don't know." Loki hesitated. "Are you sure that's a good idea? After all... Selvig."

"He suggested it."

"Why?"

Thor shrugged, his expression guilty.

"Thor."

Thor sighed, and spread his hands apologetically. "He said that his psychiatrist told him to confront his fears."

"All right." Loki pulled his knees to his chest. "If that's what he think will help him... but I'm going to change first. I am not wearing teddy bears to a restaurant."

#

It was an awkward new experience, Loki decided, to go out to dinner with somebody whose brain he had overtook and forced to work against his planet. More awkward than sitting with the Avengers for meals.

Maybe it was because Selvig had always been so darn happy to see him while under the control of the sceptre that made Loki feel guiltier facing him than Barton. Selvig building the Tesseract's portal had been remarkably like a child putting together their favourite toy. And whenever Loki checked on progress, Selvig always responded as though the demigod was his best friend.

Something Loki was not accustomed to.

The restaurant that they went to was a nice one, with secluded booths that gave them privacy. Lewis ordered for everybody after making a big fuss over how it was Loki's birthday. The waitress had smiled and fawned over him, ruffling his hair, and then laughing when he rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Oh, he is just adorable!" she exclaimed before leaving.

"Darcy, what are you doing?" Selvig asked.

"She'll bring our food faster. And we might get cake," Lewis replied with a nonchalant shrug.

"What is it with humans and cake?" Loki asked, staring with disgust at the paper and crayons that the waitress had given him.

"What is it with Asgardians and poptarts?" Lewis shot back.

"They're crazy good!" Loki realised what he had done seconds after he had said the words. He stopped, trying to disbelieve it, and then with a groan sank his head into his hands. He would have been perfectly fine if the earth had cracked in two and swallowed the highchair he sat in. "Thor, I blame you for this!"

The lack of response meant that Thor was trying not to laugh. Loki looked up glaring. Thor pressed his hand against his mouth, his massive shoulders shaking while his eyes twinkled. Loki rolled his eyes. Lewis laughed out loud.

"I have to use the washroom," she blurted, quickly getting up.

"What a coincidence. So do I," Thor said, still attempting not to laugh. Both left.

Leaving Loki with Slevig.

Who was not laughing.

Awkward.

Loki busied himself inspecting the crayons. The orange wasn't too bad a shade. Maybe he could draw those things that Stark called jack-o'-lanterns. He had seen plenty while he was away from the tower.

Maybe Lewis and Thor would return quickly.

"What were you going to do to me?"

Loki winced. He glanced up at Selvig, and decided that there really was no point in trying to ignore the man. With a sigh, he put down the crayons. "I... I was going to use you to hurt Thor."

Selvig's gaze didn't waver, waiting.

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes."

Loki sighed. "I was going to keep you under the control of the sceptre as long as I could. And if Thor died, I was going to imprison you. If he didn't, I was going to kill you. Preferably in a public setting. But quickly, if that's... which it isn't."

"And Jane?"

"I hadn't decided yet."

The waitress returned then, making them fall silent. She put down glasses of water, cooed over Loki a little, and then promised that the food would be ready as soon as the others returned. She even said that, because it was Loki's birthday, they'd all get some special free cake. After she was gone, Loki took a sip of his water, wishing that the others would return quickly so he wouldn't have to talk with Selvig.

"Did I kiss a frog?"

Loki snorted. Water rushed up through his nose. Choking and chuckling, he put the water back down and attempted to bring himself back under control. "You were explaining The Frog Prince to me."

Selvig nodded. "I thought so. And then Agent Barton took it away?"

Loki chuckled at the memory. "He said it was distracting you. You cried."

"Did I?" Selvig was frowning, but more in an attempt to bring to mind his memories rather than from being upset. "Oh, yeah. I remember now. I thought he was going to squish it. Did he?"

"No, he let it go," Loki replied. Selvig didn't need to know that somebody else had then stepped on the frog. He studied the scientist for a moment. "So you actually remember what happened, while you were under?"

"It's starting to come back to me, now that the nightmares aren't so bad."

"You've stopped having nightmares?"

Selvig narrowed his eyes at the intensity of Loki's question. "Somewhat."

Loki was surprised, but before he could query further, Lewis and Thor came back. Both were looking like they were in much better control of themselves. The rest of the evening proceeded without incident, and Loki found himself enjoying himself. He understood why Thor liked these people. They were... happy. Even though Lewis wasn't going to win any prizes for intelligence, she was quirky and had a mischievous streak that Loki could respect. And he already knew Selvig well enough to know that the man would be a true friend.

Loki couldn't help but wonder, if his life had been different, if he would have had friends like these humans.

Chapter Text

"Thank you again, Mr Stark, for letting us stay," Jane said as she, Darcy and Erik prepared to leave.

"Hey, no problem. You were a lifesaver. I mean it. If you weren't around to pawn Thor off on when he was getting moody, I don't know how any of us would have survived," Stark replied brightly.

Thor rolled his eyes.

"It was so nice to meet you," Jane then said to Frigga, and the two women embraced.

Thor was glad to see that they had taken so well to one another. It was one burden off his mind. Jane bid everybody farewell, and finally gave Thor a kiss that would have elicited a week's worth of teasing from the warrior's three had they been present. After the kiss was finished, Thor shook hands with Erik and allowed Darcy to hug him before they took their leave.

"I like her," Frigga said after they were gone. "She had a sweet spirit about her."

"And she's not dumb, so that's a big step forward from your previous love interest," Loki added, swinging his legs as he sat on a nearby table.

Thor rolled his eyes again. "Amora was never my girlfriend."

"She thought she was."

"Well she wasn't."

Loki gave him a devilish grin. "All right. But I was actually referring to your betrothed, even though that romance didn't last long-"

Thor felt his face flushing. "Loki!"

"Which betrothed is that?" Stark asked interestedly, and then a grin eerily similar to Loki's broke across his face. "Oh, I think I know about that! This would be when Mjölnir was stolen and-"

"End of discussion!" Thor exclaimed loudly, shuddering.

Loki chuckled. "All right. Discussion is ended."

Thor smiled. He had his brother back. His mother approved of the woman whom he had fallen in love with. Life was good.

#

Clint observed Thor's mother as she selected a book from the library shelf. She was a beautiful woman, graceful and elegant, but sadness showed in the stress lines at the corners of her mouth. Seeing her made Thor's pain more real. He was a warrior, trained to be strong and show no vulnerability. When Clint looked at him, that's what he saw; a soldier. But when Clint looked at Frigga, he saw a mother whose heart was broken; a mother who loved her son unconditionally.

The cellphone in his pocket seemed to be very heavy.

Frigga turned towards him as if sensing his gaze. She wrapped her arms around the book she held – a gesture that looked an awful lot like Loki – and smiled slightly. "Agent Barton."

Was it her bearing that made Clint fully believe she had every right to be queen? Whatever it was, she deserved respect. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

"You did not. I have been meaning to try to talk with your for some time." Frigga walked forward and put her hand gently on his shoulder. "I am so sorry for everything my son did to you and your world."

An apology? It was the last thing he expected from Asgard's queen. Not even Thor, who had lived on earth for almost two years now, had thought to apologise.

"Thank you," Clint said awkwardly. "That means a lot. But it wasn't your fault."

"Was it not?" Frigga asked with a sad smile. "If I have been a better mother, would Loki have felt so alone that he would have been driven to those actions?"

Clint didn't know how to respond. He surprised himself by asking, "What was he like, when he was younger?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Thor is always saying that he wasn't like this, but he never tells us what he was like," Clint responded honestly. "I don't know where Thor is coming from. And I think understanding each other is a big part of being a team."

Frigga sighed. "Loki was a happy child. He loved to make everyone laugh. He and Thor were inseparable." Her eyes grew distant and she smiled sadly. "They would get into such trouble! Usually it was because of some mischief Loki got into and Thor would make it worse by trying to get him out of it. They were always taking the blame for each other when they could. Even when they fought – and they did fight, terribly at times – they would quickly set aside their differences and stand together if they felt someone else had wronged the other."

Frigga paused for a moment and her smile widened. "There was one time that Thor had broken Loki's favourite toy horse –snapped the head right off. Loki refused to speak to him for a week. Then Loki overheard one of the palace guards harshly scolding Thor for being too noisy. Loki cast his first spell that day, magicking the guard's voice to be so loud that even when he whispered the walls shook."

Clint looked at the ground. He should never have asked the question.

"It took hours for our most magical healers to take the spell off," Frigga continued. "Loki was confined to his quarters alone, but when I went later to talk with him, Thor was trying to hide behind the curtains. But that was how they were. How they always were."

Clint shuffled to one side. "Thank you."

Frigga wiped a tear from her cheek and nodded. As she walked past, Clint found himself needing to say something more. "Ma'am?"

Frigga stopped expectantly.

"I am sorry for your pain," Clint said awkwardly.

"Thank you, Agent Barton."

After she was gone, Clint sat down and took his cellphone from his pocket. The silence of the library was deadly.

"Now is not the time for Doctor Who references, Barton!" he muttered to himself.

He still didn't think Loki deserved anything less than death, and he wouldn't be able to breathe freely until that happened. Loki was a monster, and monsters couldn't change even if they wanted to. Yes, Loki deserved to die.

But hurting Frigga for revenge on her son would do no good.

Clint set his cellphone down on the nearby stand. He hefted the heavy lamp and brought it down on the phone, smashing it completely, and then swept the pieces into the garbage.

Rogers was right. He needed to talk to someone.

Natasha was in the gym, beating on one of the punching bags that Stark had bought to replace the ones that Thor had wrecked.

"Barton," Natasha greeted coolly as he walked up to her.

"Nat, we need to talk."

She turned to him with an expression of boredom. He recognised the signs. She was mad. He was in trouble.

"Bout what?" she asked.

Clint took a deep breath, not excited about the prospect of her reaction to everything - the camera, the videos – and hesitated. He eyed the knives on her belt. "Do you mind putting your weapons out of arm's reach first?"

"Actually, yeah, I do," Natasha replied. "Because guess what I've found out? You've been erasing JARVIS's memories. Did you really think you could keep something like that from me?"

"Did Banner tell you?"

Antarctica in the dead of winter would be less chilly than the silence Natasha gave him.

Clint pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know I've been acting like a jerk-"

"That's not the word I'd use."

-Please don't kill each other,- JARVIS interrupted.

Clint glanced upward. "Don't worry. If anybody's going to die, it'll just be me. Nat, I'm sorry."

Natasha studied him for a moment, and then took the knives from her belt and walked a ways from them and then stood there, staring at him with folded arms. "All right, Barton. Just remember who raised me, trained me, and what happened to them when I realised what they were."

"I couldn't forget something like that, Tasha."

"You've got five minutes. Start talking."

#

Late that night, Tony quietly padded down the dark corridor of the guest floor and slipped into Loki's room. The toddler demigod was lying on top of the blankets on his bed. Stars were cast onto the ceiling by the constellation-turtle that Tony had bought for him. Loki's eyes glimmered in the soft light. Was he crying? He pushed himself up when Tony entered.

"Stark?"

"I don't recognise those constellations," Tony commented, walking to the center of the room.

"Mother changed them to the constellations seen in Asgard's sky."

"How?"

"Magic," Loki replied, the "no duh, Sherlock" clear in his voice.

"Right," Tony muttered.

"What are you doing here? It's the middle of the night." Loki frowned. "You didn't bring cookies, did you?"

"Nah, no cookies. Couldn't sleep. JARVIS told me that you weren't sleeping, either. Thought we could hang out."

"Are you drunk again?"

"Drunk's got nothing to do with it. Actually, I've got something I want to show you. I was supposed to wait until tomorrow, but seeing hows we're both awake now, what's the point of waiting?" Tony scooped Loki up before the little demigod could protest, and carried him out the door. "It's real exciting, you're gonna love it."

"What I would love is if you put me down," Loki grumbled, looping one arm around Tony's neck to keep himself steady.

"You really are tiny, you know that?"

"I was wondering why everybody kept carrying me around, thank you for clearing that up for me." A pause. "Do real children feel this annoyed by their lack of independence?"

"Come off it, you love all the attention. Admit it." Tony carried him down to the elevator and hit the lobby floor button.

"You're hilarious, Stark."

"I know."

The elevator shot down to the lobby, and Tony carried Loki out into the dimly lit room. The billionaire grinned as he headed for the wooden corral that he had installed, and asked JARVIS to slowly brighten the lights a little. Loki frowned, obviously curious and equally obviously trying not to let it show. Tony stepped into the corral and set him down.

Loki stared. Straw had been spread over a special non-slip surface laid over the marble flooring, and laying in the corner on a particularly thick bed of straw, between a manger and a water trough, lay a honey-coloured Shetland pony. Its legs were curved gracefully around its belly, and it was resting its head against the floor.

"You bought me a pony?" Loki asked, dumbstruck.

"You said you wanted one."

"What is wrong with you?" Loki muttered, walking cautiously forward. The pony lifted its head and snorted at him. Loki held out his hand for the pony to sniff. "Hello, darling, what's your name?"

Well, that was too good an opportunity to pass up! "Whoa, there, Lokster. You gotta remember how young you are. Getting pregnant with little eight-legged ponies is probably not a good idea."

Loki glared at him. "I find your reference to that particular myth both insulting and disturbing. And her name is Virginia."

"Did you just name your horse after Pepper?"

"She's a pony, not a horse, and yes I did."

Tony grunted. "All right, it's time to get back to bed, anyway."

Loki patted the pony's head once more and then rejoined Tony. The billionaire picked him up again. Loki's huff of annoyance was interrupted by a wide yawn.

"Just pretend to be surprised tomorrow, okay?"

"I suppose."

Tony headed back to the elevator. They were silent as they went back to Loki's room. Tony pulled back the blankets on the little bed, laid Loki down-

"What the heck are you doing?"

Tony froze. Loki stared at him incredulously.

"Um..." Tony said. "I guess I'm tucking you in."

"Well don't, that's creepy. I'm not a child," Loki grumbled, pulling his blankets up to his chin. "And what are you, some sort of supernanny?"

"Supernanny? What, have you been talking with Agent-" Tony cut off. Why was it always at the most unexpected times that he was reminded of death? "No. You couldn't have."

"Agent?"

Tony shifted. "Coulson. Phil."

"Oh." Loki noticeably tensed. "What does he have to do with anything?"

"It's just something he said to me once. About supernanny... it was his favourite show or something."

"I didn't know that," Loki said quietly.

"Well, how could you-"

"No, you don't get it. Since... since I nearly died... every time I see that show on the television I think of him. Why-"

Tony frowned. "Maybe you met him when you were unconscious from that nectar stuff. You know, you did a two-way to the afterlife. Although, that means that there's gotta be an afterlife- Dang. That means I owe Rogers a lot of money..."

"That's ridiculous."

"What, that there's an afterlife?"

"No, that I mean him." Loki's voice grew harsh. "That's completely absurd and I refuse to entertain that notion. Good-night, Mr Stark."

Tony sat for a moment, and then hesitantly opened his mouth. "You feel guilty about that, don't you?"

"Good-night."

"Hey, I recognise regret when I see it. I've got enough in my life."

"I said good-night!"

Tony stood, shaking his head. "Sorry. Actually, no, I'm not sorry. Phil was a good guy. He was as annoying as heck but he was a good guy. And you killed him."

Loki pressed his palms to his eyes. "You should take the pony back to wherever you got it from."

"No, I'm not taking away your pony. Although I am going to have to find a stable for it. The lobby's not the best place- But here's the thing," Tony sat down again. "You're feeling guilty. There's no use denying it. And there's nothing you can do to change it. But if there's one thing I learned, guilt can make you a better person. You can use it to make sure you don't repeat your mistakes, and clean up the messes you've already made."

Loki dropped his hands and looked at Tony for a long time. "And you said that you'd be a lousy father?"

Tony was speechless for a moment. "You're not going to start calling me Papa, are you?"

Loki rolled his eyes. "Goodnight, Mr Stark."

"Night, Lokster," Tony murmured, turning off the constellation turtle and quietly leaving.

Chapter Text

"I guess the only way to get forgiveness around here is to destroy half of New York and then come back with a baby face," Clint muttered, rubbing his jaw where a bruise was already beginning to form. He sat on the bed in his room, staring up at the beige ceiling while he waited for the verdict of his confession.

"You should have seen that coming," Natasha retorted. The bed dipped as she sat beside him. "After all, you messed with JARVIS. Of course Stark was going to take a swing at you."

"Yet he buys Loki a pony."

"After Loki nearly died following a magical infection caused by an alien parasitical worm."

"So you're saying that I should nearly die and then he'll buy me a pony?"

"You want a pony?"

"No."

"Then I would suggest not nearly dying."

Clint smiled his first genuine smile in a long time. "Thanks for standing by me," he said.

"Always."

"To be fair," Clint continued briskly, "Stark is the only one who threw a punch at me. Although Rogers' 'I am severely disappointed in you' look was worse. We need to patent that look, we'd be richer than Stark by the end of the day.

A ghost of a smile flickered across Natasha's face. "You're sounding more like yourself."

"I feel more like myself."

Natasha put her hand on his arm.

"But it doesn't change how I feel about Loki. I betrayed the team and I'm willing to face the music- and fists- but I can't start pretending that I think Loki's a cute fuzzy little kitten."

"I don't want you to pretend anything, Clint," Natasha replied softly. "This whole mess started because you stopped talking... I'd rather have the ugly truth than the prettiest lie. And the team's going to be angry, but less angry than if they'd found out other ways."

Clint smiled wryly. "You're still ticked off at me, aren't you?"

"I wouldn't use those words exactly." Natasha jammed her elbow in his gut. "I'm gonna help you through this, Clint, in whatever way I can."

"I know you will."

Natasha stood. "I'd better go back and see what the others are doing. Stark might be trying to arrange a kangaroo court, and if that's the case-"

"I need a defense attorney." Clint tried to smile, but it didn't work. Sure, confession felt okay right now, when it was just Natasha and she was all too willing to show that she was prepared to forgive him. But he had been through so much less with the others. And, he mused, for most of the time he had been their teammate, he hadn't exactly been a team player...

"It's gonna be okay, Clint. You're gonna be okay."

"I hope you're right."

Natasha squeezed his hand once before she left, and then Clint flopped back. Was it going to be okay? He didn't know.

Well. While the others were debating his fate, there was something that he should do.

"JARVIS?"

-Yes, sir?-

"First, I'm sorry for messing with your memories and stuff."

A moment of silence. –I am sure that I will forgive you in time, sir. Master Stark has reinforced my security and firewalls, so I doubt you can get into my programming again.-

"I'm not going to mess with your programming again, JARVIS. It was stupid of me to do in the first place."

-And like I said, in time I am sure I will be able to accept that apology, sir. Was that all?-

"No." Clint stood. "I thought I'd better act on Thor's... suggestion from earlier."

-You mean when he told you that you had best grovel for Loki's forgiveness before Mjölnir set you on your knees permanently?-

"Yeah, that." Clint gritted his teeth.

Thor seemed to have forgotten that Loki hadn't even said thanks for what the Avengers had done for him, let alone apologise for the lives he cut short- But dwelling on that wasn't going to help anything. It was Clint's prerogative to mend the bridges he had slowly let kindle. Besides, it wasn't just Loki that the archer had threatened, but Thor's mother as well.

"Is he still with Frigga?"

-No, sir. The queen has gone to join the Avengers and Miss Potts. They are explaining your actions to her now.- A pause. –She seems to be handling it quite well, sir.-

"Good," Clint muttered. "Where's Loki?"

-Now might not be the best time for you to see him, sir.-

"You can tell the others, if you want. But given the situation, don't you think it's probably a good idea if I let Loki know that the threat is over?"

-I see. Very well, sir. Loki is in the lobby with Virginia.-

#

The Other stood on the deck of his ship, his gaze searching the large virtual image of the building called Stark Tower. The small dots representing the beings in the building pulsed gently. The trickster's indicator was on the ground level, while all the others (save one) were gathered near the middle. It would be so easy to walk in and take the wretch, to punish him as he deserved... but Thanos had given his orders, and the Other was not so foolish as to disobey the Mad Titan.

"Enjoy your solace while it lasts, Loki Odinson," the Other hissed. "The Titan is not finished with you."

#

The pony stood still while Loki brushed her. Her tail swished occasionally, and she chewed on some hay, but otherwise she was motionless. Clint saw Loki tense as he walked up the corral, but the demigod continued to brush the pony. The archer leaned against the makeshift fence, watching.

"About those videos," he started, forcing himself to keep his voice even, "Thor advised me to apologise to you for those."

There was a minute pause in Loki's actions. His shoulders slumped. "You told them then, did you?"

"About some things," Clint replied, guessing what Loki was thinking. "Like the whole blackmail thing and messing with JARVIS. But I left out the exact nature of what was on the videos."

"Why?"

"It seemed counterproductive, considering what the purpose of telling the others was."

"And what was that?"

Clint smirked as Loki continued to brush the pony. He could milk this for all it was worth, but that, too, would be counterproductive. Avoiding Loki was the best tactic, he knew. Better start as soon as he could. "I decided that the personal issues between us should stay personal. Plus your mom's way too nice and I realised that if I kept it up I would only alienate myself from my friends. Revenge isn't worth that."

Loki turned and frowned.

"So you don't have to worry about me telling anybody about your former addictions."

"I see."

The pony nudged Loki's head with her nose and then walked over to Clint. He reached over the corral and scratched her forehead.

"And here I always thought that animals were a good judge of character," the archer muttered.

"As did I."

Well. What was said was said. It was the closest thing to an apology that Clint was going to give. If it wasn't good enough for Thor, too bad. Clint would just point out all the crap he had put up with without even this much of an apology from either brother. Patting the pony one last time, Clint turned to go.

"The sceptre doesn't let go."

Clint stopped.

"It doesn't release its victims, not even after its control over them has been severed. It feeds on anger, despair, hate... and so it creates those emotions in the minds of its victims – its hosts – by any means necessary."

"The nightmares," Clint murmured. He turned back slowly. "So those are because of you, too."

Loki had gone back to brushing the pony. "Selvig seems to have starved it out."

"Selvig wasn't forced to kill people he cared about."

"True. Selvig isn't a killer."

The question that had tormented Clint for so long was out before he could stop it. "Did you know who Phil Coulson was when you killed him?"

Silence.

"Did you kill him because of something I told you?"

Loki went still.

Clint waited.

"No."

It was a lie. Clint knew it was and anger and hate and guilt began to throttle him. It was his fault Coulson was dead.

"He was in my way, that's all. I didn't know who he was until later."

Lies, a voice whispered in Clint's head. You might as well have killed him yourself.

Was this the sceptre talking? Whispering in his ear, feeding itself on his anger? Or was that another lie? Clint swallowed back the guilt. It stabbed at his heart like Loki had stabbed Phil in the back, like so many arrows had stabbed through an eye-

"It is only fair to make sure you know," Clint said, his voice dead, "that when I get that chance to kill you-"

"I'd expect nothing less from you, Agent Barton," Loki interrupted evenly, resuming brushing the pony. "You're the only sane person in this tower."

Clint turned on his heel and went back to the elevator. He dug his palms into his eyes. He must have had a sudden onset of allergies or something. It was the only way to account for the uncharacteristic moisture of his eyes. No matter. The ugly, unforgiving anger was hard in his chest still. But, at least he knew what to do about this time.

He would tell Natasha the first chance he got.

When the elevator opened onto the guest floor, he was faced with Pepper Potts, five Avengers, and the queen of Asgard. Anxiety replaced the anger in his chest. He stepped out of the elevator, trying to gauge their emotions. If JARVIS had told them he was going to see Loki-

Frigga was the first to move. Clint wasn't entirely sure what to do when she hugged him, drawing him into her arms... was this what a mother's embrace felt like?

"You will heal in time, Clint Barton," she whispered.

Allergies were stupid. You could go from never having any reactions for your whole life to tears running down your cheeks in a matter of minutes.

Potts joined in the hug, and so did Banner. Clint struggled to keep his "allergies" under control. He didn't cry. He hadn't cried since he was ten years old... It wasn't a sob that broke his throat. It couldn't be. One by one, the others all joined in, until...

"Group hug!" Stark shouted, and jumped in (or was it on?).

And down they went.

#

"Turn it off, please," Loki whispered, turning away from the virtual screen showing the group laughing and falling over each other as they tried to stand up. It was baffling to him, how they could so easily... forgive?

"Is this forgiveness?" he asked Virginia. She snorted and nuzzled his hair. She was rather intelligent, for a Midgard creature. He might even be able to teach her how to communicate.

-Are you all right, sir?-

"I'm fine, thank you, JARVIS." Loki scratched Virginia's ears. "I'm fine."

#

"It's right this time, I know it," Tony repeated firmly, several days later, as he showed Rogers the large virtual-screen map. He pointed at the glowing red circle that indicated the next projected location for the strange energy surges they'd been tracking. "We've got three hours to get there."

"Three hours?"

"Yeah, I would have given you more time, but algorithms don't always work on a schedule.

Rogers didn't look certain, but he nodded. "Alright. Thor, we need you to come with us this time. Stark, you can stay behind with Banner to keep an eye on the tower."

Tony nodded, but he looked shrewdly at the captain. "Is this because of that blind date I set you up on?"

"We are not talking about that."

"Come on, cap, her profile picture was smokin'. How was I to know she was going to try to steal your blood to reproduce the supersoldier serum?"

"I already said we are not talking about that! Besides, leaving you behind has nothing to do with personal grudges," Rogers retorted, looking every the overly-serious solider. "This is so that if you're wrong again we have time to cool down. Maybe it'll be enough so that we maim instead of murder you for wasting our time," he quipped. "Suit up, people."

"I'm not wrong," Tony muttered, although he grinned in appreciation of the humour. "I'm so right, I'm left!"

"Left behind," Romanoff teased as she walked past.

"Oh, ha, ha!"

"You walked right into that one, Stark."

Tony rolled his eyes as his teammates left. He turned to Bruce. "So what now?"

Bruce shrugged. "I was going to go call Betty, now that Fury's gotten the mess with her father all sorted. Well. Sort of sorted. It's going to take a lot to get it worked through entirely. Not that I think it ever can be, really..."

"You should invite her over for a weekend," Tony suggested.

Bruce snorted. "Sure, I'll just invite my sorta-ex-girlfriend to a building that's full of superheroes and demigods. No, thanks. We already have enough problems in our relationship without introducing her to this crazy, messed-up group so quickly."

"Come on, we're more than a crazy, messed-up group," Tony replied bracingly. "We're a crazy, messed-up family. Look at how well it worked for Thor!"

Bruce smiled but shook his head. "I think I'll be taking things slow with Betty. I've put her in too much danger to just drop back in and pretend that everything's cool."

Tony nodded his understanding. "Well, have fun!"

Bruce nodded once. Tony wandered back up to the guest floor, where he found Pepper, Loki and Frigga in Loki's room, playing poker with go fish cards and potato chips. Loki was winning. They all looked up and said words of greeting as he sauntered in and sat down beside Pepper. She gave him a smile and a kiss on the cheek. He beamed.

"Well, is the program going to work this time?" Pepper asked teasingly.

"Of course it is! This time."

"If I recall correctly, that's what you said last time, too," Loki mentioned casually.

"Yeah, well, that was last time. By the way, I got a call from the stables. Virginia is settled in her new home safe and sound. We can go see her later today if you want."

"That'd be nice. Thank you." Loki studied his cards. "I raise two sour cream and onion."

"Call," Frigga said, selecting her potato chips and putting them into the pile.

Pepper studied her cards, and Tony did too. She had a good hand, but not that good of a hand. "I think I'd better-"

"Raise it. He's bluffing," Tony whispered.

Loki heard and raised his eyebrows at the two. "I don't bluff," he said seriously, and then smiled angelically. "I never lie, either."

"That makes me feel so much better," Pepper muttered. She hesitated. "I'm not sure I should trust your judgement, Tony."

"Give it a try," Tony urged.

"Do or do not, there is no try," Loki intoned, looking at his cards again.

"Whoa, whoa! When did you watch Star Wars?" Tony demanded.

Loki raised his eyebrows. "You said I should."

"They are most... interesting films," Frigga mentioned. "Although I must say I did not enjoy them as much as the Lord of the Rings."

"You watched Lord of the Rings, too?" Tony wailed.

"Extended editions," Loki said. "They're better that way. You know, they're awfully similar to a children's story in Asgard about three rings-"

"At least tell me you didn't watch Tangled without me!"

Pepper looked guilty.

Tony pouted. "How come I wasn't invited to movie night?"

"Because you talk through movies, and-" Loki began, but that is when the tower began to rock with explosions.

Chapter Text

The Other had come for him. Why had he let himself grow comfortable? Why had he let himself believe that maybe he was safe? Why had he begun to hope that maybe, just maybe, this could be over? Loki clung to Frigga's neck as she carried him, hating the curse on him. He was slowing them down! If he was his true age-

Another explosion rocked the tower, stronger this time, knocking them to the floor.

"JARVIS, where is Banner?" Stark shouted, but the automated butler gave no reply. Disabled.

"Tony-" Pepper started.

"Get Frigga and Loki out of here," Stark replied. "Take the stairs."

Pepper hesitated. The tower rocked again, and Stark peeled off from the group, going at a full-out run. Loki supposed that he was headed to suit up.

"Tony, I love you," Pepper shouted after him and dimly Loki heard Stark reply in the like.

Pepper turned back, her face pale but determined. She took off her high-heeled shoes so that she could go faster and led the way to the stairs.

It would never stop. There would never be an end. It would be safer for his mother, for the humans, if he turned himself over to the Other and submitted to whatever new plans he had. The Avengers knew about the Valdkvikindi, they could prepare for the worse. But he remained silent in his cowardice. He couldn't bear the thought of being separated from his family. He couldn't face that black despair. Not again.

"Where is Bruce?" Pepper whispered, and Loki turned his gaze to watch behind them as they ran. Her whisper was soft, afraid. What would she be feeling now, as they ran for their lives? What must she have felt, watching his army destroy her home?

Redemption was not possible.

They hit the landing for the floor immediately below. The air changed- became charged with something awful but before Loki could give voice to a warning, a web of crackling blue descended upon them. The energy net snickered and chortled and sucked the strength from their limbs.

And they all went down.

He was trapped between warm and cold- Frigga, protecting him from the net, and the concrete, unyielding as he turned his head.

Shrill laughter echoed everywhere. Loki felt himself and the women rolled onto a hovering sled. He caught a glimpse of a Chitauri. Oh how Loki wished for a sword to slice it apart!

He felt his mother struggling to draw breath and realized he wasn't breathing- he had to concentrate draw in even the tiniest breath.

He prayed and hoped that whatever horror awaited them would be quick.

He knew it wouldn't.

The Chitauri had them back up the stairs in less time than they'd taken to run down. They jeered to each other in their foul, primitive tongue, but Loki's head was succumbing to the paralysis and he couldn't bring himself to translate.

When at last the net was deactivated, Frigga, Pepper, and Loki rolled out onto the floor. From previous experience, Loki knew it would take them a while to regain use of their bodies.

The toddler-demigod lay still until he was certain that he would be able to move without stumbling or jerking. And then he stood, brushing off his clothing as if the whole thing was nothing more than falling down in the dirt. His hands trembled. He looked around as Pepper and Frigga got to their feet shakily.

They were in the penthouse of the Tower. The place had long since been remodeled, although Loki thought that, just maybe, there was a slight indentation in the floor from where he and the Hulk had… conversed. There was no sign of the Other, only Chitauri warriors surrounding them with their weapons and nets.

"Tony!" Pepper screamed, rushing forward only to have another net thrown on her. She fell, instantly paralysed. Loki glanced over. Sure enough Stark was wrapped up in his own net. His eyes were open and glazed over. The circle of light in his chest was flickering slightly.

Frigga reached out for Loki, but a Chitauri made a sharp noise, and she withdrew.

Loki forced aside his concern and tried to think. The Other had found him - more than likely, had never lost him. But why attack now? If the Other had known this whole time where he had gone, why wait? There had been many times when the Avengers had been gone, leaving only two behind, and Loki had been in a much more vulnerable state.

Loki's gaze flickered briefly to Frigga. It was the first time when the heroes had left since his mother arrived. Loki felt cold hatred and dread spread, tingling through his veins. Futilely he searched within himself for a spark of magic, something with which he could defend his mother.

She was the target of this attack. Not him. He will make you long for something sweet as pain.

Suddenly the wall burst inward with a shower of plaster and stone. The Chitauri hardly had time to react before a giant green monster smashed huge green hands into their heads. The Hulk turned on the other warriors, jumping between them and Frigga.

Loki didn't stick around to watch. He responded purely by instinct.

He ran blindly. He remembered swinging through the air, stone tiles splintering as his body smashed into them. He heard a grunt behind him. Suddenly the ground gave way beneath his feet. Wind rushed in his ears and he saw the streets far below but moving closer. He had run right off the roof.

Something caught him before he could work up a scream. He was swung up and soon found himself staring straight into the green eyes of the Hulk. Loki gasped, readying himself to be smashed or squashed. What he was not prepared for was to be gently placed back down on the floor. The Hulk glowered down at him. Loki stared back up; standing still because there was nothing else he could do but wait and see what would happen next.

"Be careful!" the Hulk snarled.

Loki blinked in surprise. "Uh… okay," he squeaked.

The Hulk snorted and then stalked over to where the other humans lay wrapped in their paralysing nets. He grunted when he touched the net, but attempted to tear them apart anyway.

"Loki!" Frigga cried, rushing to his side.

Loki started. Mortification welled in him as she checked him over and then pulled him into her embrace.

"I left you," he murmured, numb with his shame.

Frigga cupped his face in her hands and kissed his forehead. "You could have done nothing else."

"But I left you," he repeated, and this time he didn't mean when he had ran from the Hulk. He meant when he had released the end of Gungnir and had let himself fall into the abyss.

The memory hit him hard, leaving him gasping for breath. His nightmares had distorted the event until he couldn't remember what was real and what was his own twisted mind betraying him. But now he remembered staring up at Odin, knowing that he could never be worthy of being his son, ignoring Thor's pleas not to let go.

"I didn't even think of you," Loki whispered. "I didn't-"

Frigga drew him in close to her. "All that stands forgiven," she whispered.

There was a sudden blast, and two bolts of energy hit the Hulk. Loki was sure he grew even bigger as he turned with amazing speed towards a pair of Chitauri fighters across the street. And two more, just past them...

But the Hulk was leaping from the tower even as Loki cried out a warning. The Chitauri were smashed as the Hulk landed, , The two on the buildings a little farther began to fire. The Hulk roared and went after them, and then two more, even further, fired at him, drawing him away.

Drawing him away.

#

"We are in the right spot... right?" asked Clint.

"So says the algorithm," said Romanoff. "Middle of a forest, miles away from everything… And then this awfully convenient, Quinjet-sized clearing."

"Given the sawdust and the scorch marks, this is a recent development," noted Rogers.

"Friends! I have something!" called Thor.

Instead of an energy spike emitting thing, the Avengers (minus the brainiacs) found a small black box.

"Is that what's been making the energy signals?" Rogers asked as they warily surveyed it.

Thor frowned at the box, motioning for his fellows to stay back. It looked somewhat familiar, but from where the resemblance came he did not know. He approached it cautiously and, with his foot, gave it a nudge.

A small red light began blinking in its center.

The light was very similar to those he had seen on many a journey, and, as he had on those occasions, Thor reacted accordingly. He shouted at his teammates to get away, and then with a mighty roar brought his hammer down on the device with all of his strength.

There was a soft, dull explosion that could only be compared to a groan of pain. Thor lifted the hammer. The device was flat. The red light blinked twice before cutting out entirely.

He nodded in satisfaction. "The crisis is adverted," he announced, stepping back.

His fellow Avengers looked on with expressions of disbelief.

Rogers stepped forward, looking between the metal pancake and Thor. "What was that?"

"I believe it is some sort of explosive device, Captain Rogers," Thor replied. He polished a bit of soot from the end of Mjölnir.

Barton and Romanoff both approached cautiously, eyebrows arched.

Rogers shook his head. "You've done this before, haven't you?"

Thor nodded. "Many times. The might of Mjölnir is far greater than any explosive. "

"Wow," Barton intoned softly, staring at the device.

Romanoff kicked at it. "But the energy readings we've picked up before haven't been the explosive type."

"Banner and Stark could have gotten it wrong," Barton suggested, but he sounded doubtful.

"Or the Chitauri knew we were coming this time," Rogers said softly.

Realization hit them all at one. Thor felt panic well in him. If the Chitauri knew that they would be there to set a trap for them, it meant that they also knew that Stark Tower was undefended. Which meant-

"My mother and Loki are in danger!"

"We'll be right behind you," Rogers assured him as he, Barton and Romanoff raced back to their transport and Thor began to twirl Mjölnir for takeoff.

Banner would be able to transform into the Hulk for some measure of defence, but would Stark be able to don his Iron Man armour? Thor forced his panic away as he realised that Miss Potts would be in danger as well. Action was needed. He leapt into the air, urging all haste. The question ran through his mind if they might be too late, but he didn't let it take hold.

#

Loki didn't turn his head when he heard the sounds of more Chitauri pouring into the room, didn't resist as he was torn from Frigga's grasp, didn't flinch when the Other stepped into his line of sight.

His mind worked frantically: The Other, waiting for Frigga to arrive. Drawing away the Earth's heroes for a clean attack on the tower... Dread filled Loki to his core. His mind skittered around what it already knew, trying to connect the dots and at the same time trying to keep the picture away because it was too awful to comprehend...

"I can still get you the Tesseract," Loki whispered as he stared unseeingly at the Other.

"We do not need you anymore. Bring the woman."

Loki heard the order through a daze of thoughts. As though looking from eyes that were not his own, he turned and watched the Chitauri drag his mother forward. Her lip was bleeding and a bruise was rising on her forehead. She was speaking; her gaze full of fire and defiance, but Loki couldn't process her words.

My fault, he thought. All my fault.

The Other had something in his hand - was it a whip or something else? He reared back his arm. The crackling prongs bit into Frigga's face. Her clothing tore. A scream – the scream the Other had so desperately wanted- ripped from Loki's throat: High, loud, incessant. The sound startled the Chitauri. The whip faltered midair. Every eye turned to him.

It was just long enough for a spear to pierce through the Other's chest.

The scream died instantly, as though it had been Loki who was speared. The four warriors that had suddenly appeared in the room made quick work of the remaining Chitauri. When they were through, they stared down at Loki and he stared back at them. Sif. Hogun. Fandral. Volstagg. Thor was on earth, too.

Asgard's mightiest heroes.

Drawn away.

Loki thought he might vomit. Frigga ran to his side, her face bleeding, asking over and over if he was all right. Fandral and Vostagg went to Stark and Pepper to detangle them from the paralysing nets. Sif and Hogun both stood ready for more attacks.

"Loki?" Frigga cupped his face and forced him to look at her. "What is it?"

"Thanos-" Loki started, his voice so dry he could hardly hear it himself. "Thanos is going to attack Asgard."

Chapter Text

Clint's brow furrowed as he manoeuvred the quinjet onto the rooftop of Stark Tower. The glass windows of the penthouse had been all broken, and the far wall was crumpled in. The work of the Hulk, it looked like, though neither Banner nor the Hulk had been anywhere in sight. Clint had seen Thor, Stark and Potts, however, talking with Frigga and four more people that wore distinctive Asgardian garb. He had also seen a few Chitauri lying on the floor.

As soon as the transport was down, Rogers led Clint and Natasha to join the others. Clint cast a quick glance over the newcomers. A woman and three men. Thor hurriedly gave introductions. These were Lady Sif and the warriors three that the blonde demigod talked so much about.

Clint turned his attention back to the others. Pepper and Stark both seemed unhurt, although Stark was quite pale. Frigga had a long gash across her cheek – Clint recognised it as a whip lash from a mile away Blood was smeared down her face from a hasty attempt at cleaning, but it seemed to have stopped bleeding.

Loki stood in the middle of the group, his hands held stiffly at his sides, staring between Thor and Frigga, his jaw clenched. Was it finally time to be rid of him, to send him back to Asgard to face his punishment? Was that why these new Asgardians had come? Clint let himself indulge the thought for a moment, but then set it aside. Now was not the time for revenge fantasies, especially since Thor looked so concerned.

"Stark, what happened?" Rogers asked.

"We were attacked by the Chitauri," Stark said, and then gave a brief explanation of what happened. The Asgardians glanced at each other impatiently, but a stern glance from Frigga kept them quiet.

Clint glanced around at the dead Chitauri, and the Other that still lay on the floor. So this was the guy who had put that creature into Loki? He didn't look so threatening with a gaping wound in his chest.

Rogers frowned when Stark finished by telling them Loki's prediction, that this was a trick to lure the Asgardian warriors away in order to attack Asgard.

"I don't suppose you brought some sort of communication devices with you, so that you can contact Asgard?" Rogers asked the warriors.

Sif shook her head. "Hiemdall saw that the queen was in danger, and so we were sent to defend her, and to return with her, Thor and... Loki."

Clint wondered what she had been wanting to call Loki.

"So you have a-"

"No, they do not," Thor interrupted. "We were to gather at a certain location to be brought back by my father. We have no way to get back to Asgard without him."

"Why not?" the hefty Volstagg asked. "We've got Loki."

The humans turned to look at him with raised eyebrows. The other Asgardians, save Frigga and Thor, shared a sceptical glance. Loki stirred for the first time, sitting down on the floor. He rubbed his eyes with a tired gesture.

"I am of no use. I told Thanos everything of Asgard," he said flatly.

Clint was surprised by the dead tone of his voice. He sounded utterly beaten, even more so than when he had been dying of the magical infection.

"But you know the secret ways in and out of Asgard," Volstagg argued. "Surely you didn't tell Thanos all of them."

Loki rested his head in his hands and didn't reply.

"What did you tell him?" Sif asked after a moment.

Loki stared at her with empty eyes. "I don't know."

Sif's eyes flashed in anger. "How can you not know?"

Loki didn't reply. Clint narrowed his eyes, studying the demigod. He recognised the look on his face. He felt a spark of pity, which was followed by an even greater anger. He knew what it was like, but still inflicted it on others?

"He used the sceptre on you, didn't he?" Clint asked.

Loki tensed and looked at the ground again. It was answer enough for them all. Clint glanced quickly at the others. The four warriors from Asgard looked to Thor for their next move. Thor's grip tightened on Mjölnir's handle, a murderous fury in his eyes. Stark, Rogers, and Pepper all had varying looks of discomfort. Frigga was holding herself back from embracing her son. Natasha was looking back at Clint to evaluate him. He raised one shoulder and let it drop.

"Even if there was a way into Asgard that I did not tell him, there is no way off Earth. If there was, I would have found it."

"You were alone and on the run," Natasha pointed out. "With more resources-"

"I had all the resources I needed right here," Loki interrupted. He continued without acknowledging the raised eyebrows around him. "If there was a way off the planet, there would be whispers of it in your ancient literature, which the Stark library is full of. There is nothing. Shakespeare's work has a hint of advanced knowledge-"

"Ha! I knew it!" crowed Stark.

Everybody stared at him until he blushed and backed away. Loki shook his head and continued. "Shakespeare may have had contact with advanced beings, but it's not enough to indicate a passageway, and it's far too recent to be of any real worth. Besides that, even if there was a path between earth and Asgard, it would take years to map it. By then it will be too late."

"Heimdall will have seen this," Volstagg said hopefully. "Asgard will be preparing for battle as we speak."

"As we speak, the battle will be raging. I told Thanos of Heimdall's powers, and how to blind him. He would have launched his attack as soon as you were sent here."

"Then is Asgard lost to us?" Sif demanded. "With all your learning and knowledge-"

"You were able to manipulate the Tesseract when you were worlds away," Clint interrupted, hating the idea that formed in his mind but at the same time realising that he had a responsibility to suggest it. "Can you-"

"You were experimenting with it and I had the sceptre. It wasn't hard. Odin will have turned the cube off entirely."

"I was actually wondering if you can build one."

Loki looked up at Clint, a frown furrowing his brow. For once, his gaze wasn't full of anger or hate. Instead he seemed to be actually considering the question.

"Earth doesn't have the necessary technology. In order to open a permanent, stable portal between realms-"

"But you don't need a permanent portal," Stark said. "You just need one transfer."

Loki nodded slowly, an expression of realisation coming over his face. "You're right," he said softly. "Just enough for one burst..."

He stood and began to pace, his lips moving silently as he walked back and forth, ignoring everyone else in the room. The Asgardians moved back to give him a wide circle, watching him expectantly.

"You can build something?" Sif asked hopefully, as everybody else began speaking at once.

"SHEILD still has HYDRA weapons."

"Fury won't give those to us, and especially not him."

"I am famished!"

"If he does not-"

"-then we-"

"But Fury-"

"He tried-"

"Shut up!" Loki shouted. He stood still, staring straight ahead, digging his fingers into his hair. "Everyone just shut up. Fandral, turn your back, you're putting me off."*

Fandral looked exasperated and annoyed. "We're not going to start that again, are we?"

"Fandral!" the other Asgardains scolded instantly.

They watched Loki expectantly. Fandral, looking offended, turned his back. Clint wondered at how readily Thor and his friends followed their fallen comrade's instruction. Obviously it was something that had happened often in the past.

Loki's eyes darted back and forth as though he was reading an invisible paper. He raised his hands and drew in the air. After a long time, he dropped his hands and turned to Thor.

"I can't build a Tesseract, but I may be able to build a portal allowing one trip between earth and Asgard. However, I am going to need help."

"You are admitting that you need help?" Sif muttered. "Earth has changed you."

Loki ignored her. "Everything that SHEILD has, I need. We need to get Dr Banner back here so that he can start to work on an organic compound that will be able to absorb large amounts of gamma and beta radiation so that we can get the energy containment necessary for the transport of molecular configurations without turning the subject into a steaming pool of gloop."

Rogers cleared his throat. "I'll go call Fury. All I understood about that was a pool of gloop."

"I shall accompany you," Thor suggested. "Fury may need persuading."

"Negotiating, perhaps," Frigga corrected gently. "I will accompany the captain."

"Mr Stark," Loki said, "is there a spare lab here that I can use?"

Stark shrugged. "We'll figure something out."

Loki nodded. "I'm going to need iridium, trillium, gold, uranium and tin. Lots of tin."

"Uranium?" Stark repeated. "We're going to have to get that from SHEILD as well."

Clint glanced around. Everybody seemed fully invested in this plan. Even though he had been the one to suggest the idea, he hadn't expected that it would take off quite like this. He certain hadn't expected that everyone would suddenly start following Loki's orders. He glanced at Natasha.

She shrugged, "We'll go look for Banner," and turned away. Clint followed, listening as Loki gave more orders.

"What do you want us to do?" Sif asked archly, and Clint glanced back to see her gesture at the other three new Asgardians.

"Stay out of my way," Loki responded harshly, and then began demanding paper.

#

The Agents Three settled themselves in Agent One's room on beanbags and around a table.

"As the most 'put together' of our little band," said Agent Three, "I call this meeting to order."

"Hear hear!" said Agent Two.

"Recorder's on?" asked Agent Three.

Agent One pressed a button on the remote. "Zee red light blinks."

"Good." She clasped her hands. "We have gathered here today to-,"

"Celebrate the union of science and magic!" proclaimed Agent Two.

"Seriously?" said Agent One.

"SHIELD and the Avengers? Asgard and Earth?"

"To review the Mysterious Video file," Agent One said. "You'll love it, I promise. I have popcorn."

"All in favour of watching the file with popcorn say 'Aye'," said Agent Three.

"Aye!" chorused the others.

Agent One handed out bowls.

"This is much better than the closet," Agent Three mentioned as Agent Two settled beside her and stole a handful of popcorn.

"All right, here we go," Agent One said, getting the video feed started. They absently munched on their popcorn as an image of Nick Fury flickered to life on the wall-sized TV. He was reading a report.

"Wow," Agent Two whispered. "He looks even cooler without the leather duster!"

"I didn't know he could take it off," Agent One added, awestruck..

"Where'd you get such a big TV?" Agent Three asked.

"I put myself on the beta testing list for new Stark products."

"Shh!" Agent Two hushed. "Her Majesty of Asgard is about to come in."

"You'd better not spoil this for us," Agent Three warned, "Or I'll get laundry to starch your socks again."

"I'm not spoiling anything. Here she comes!" Agent One leaned forward, his face rapturous, as Frigga entered the room. Fury stood and offered his hand.

In a whisper, Agent One quoted along with Frigga: "Director Fury, I am glad that you agreed to see me."

And deepening his voice, Agent One spoke with Fury. "Given the situation, I don't see how I had any other choice. Where is Captain Rogers?"

Agent Two smacked Agent One's shoulder. "Shut up!"

"Ow!" Agent One sat back, looking hurt.

"An agents spilled some grape juice on him ("That was me!" Agent One said proudly. "The Queen of Asgard is talking about me!"), and he did not want to make an appearance in soiled clothing," Frigga explained. "I'm sure he'll be soon."

"Please sit."

Frigga and Fury sat on opposite sides of the desk. She waited while he looked at the request before him, and then laid it down. His gaze was piercing, and the Agents Three shivered. pierced the queen with a look that made the Agents Three shiver.

"I've reviewed Captain Rogers' request," Fury said. "And I can only think you people are all insane."

"Not taking the diplomatic route, is he?" Agent Two muttered.

"How would you react if you were asked to hand over highly dangerous weapons to the crazy guy who had already tried to take over the planet once?" Agent Three retorted.

"The same way."

Agent One paused the video with a glare. "And you complained about me talking?"

"No, we complained about you quoting along with it. How many times have you watched this, anyway?" Agent Two demanded, dumping the rest of Agent Three's popcorn into her bowl.

"Only four or five."

"You need to get a life," Agent Three stole back her popcorn from Agent Two.

"You get a life," Agent One sulked, sinking into his beanbag chair. He started the video again.

"I understand your reluctance, Director, believe me. Loki's actions on your world have been far from trustworthy. But also believe me when I say that if there were alternatives, we would be pursuing them. The fact that there was been no further contact from Asgard proves that the realm is in some kind of distress-"

"How can a realm that powerful be in distress?" Agent Two frowned.

"We did get pretty lucky fighting those Chitauri dudes," Agent Three reasoned.

"Dudes?"

"Don't mock me."

"Will you two be quiet?" Agent One glared. "Fury just asked that and Her Majesty's about to answer."

"Thanos did not send his full strength against Earth."

"She sounds tense."

"That's because she is! Now shut up!"

"Forgive me if I don't take Loki's word for it."

"You don't have to. Heimdall was able to catch glimpses of Thanos' forces during his assault on the Earth. He saw a great army, one that would have destroyed your planet within moments, had they been able to attack as one. That force now threatens Asgard. If they manage to take the realm, where do you think they will go next?"

Agents Two and Three had forgotten about their popcorn.

"Holy crap," Agent Three breathed. "This isn't fun anymore."

Fury stood and began pacing. "You're still asking me to hand sensitive technology over to a man who worked with this Thanos."

"Technology that you scarcely understand. Dr Banner and Mr Stark will be working with him at every step," Frigga stood. "And whatever designs and advances that they see or make, it will be shared with you. After the portal is finished, you can have it."

"Whoa," Agent Two wrung her hands. "That's... that's huge."

"It could completely change the political dynamics of the planet! Not to mention whatever interactions we have with aliens in the future." Agent Three ran her hand through her hair. "She must be really desperate."

"You must be very desperate to offer me something like that," Fury said.

"He almost sounds-"

"Scared?" Agent One nodded. "He is."

"Is this Thanos really that bad?"

"Thanos is known to Odin and I," Frigga replied. "He has no mercy in his heart. He worships Death and has sacrificed a thousand armies to her. I cannot allow him to harm my son again."

Fury stared at her a long time. He nodded. "I'll have the old HYDRA weapons sent to Stark Tower at once."

"Thank you, Director."

"Don't thank me until Asgard is safe again."

The screen went black.

"Whoa, wait!" Agent Three's popcorn scattered across the floor as she bolted upright. "What happened, where's the rest?"

"That's all there is. The signal was interrupted," Agent One said, and looked seriously at his colleagues. "So. Now what?"

Agent Two was pale, and she sat thinking for a moment. "Let's watch it again."

Agent Three nodded. "Agreed."

Agent One restarted the video feed.

Chapter Text

Thor half-smiled to see the piece of paper reading "Lokster's Lab", underneath which was scrawled "I hate you" taped to the door to the lab that Loki had been in for three days. He entered to see Banner, Stark, and Loki gathered around a virtual screen, which showed a digital figure being surrounded by light. All three winced as the figure exploded.

"So we know that won't work," Stark muttered. "The Hulk Moss isn't absorbing enough of the radiation."

"Hulk Moss?" Banner asked with a raised eyebrow.

Stark shrugged. "You got a better name?"

Thor cleared his throat.

"I don't have time to talk," Loki said in response, not looking at Thor. He was typing furiously on a virtual keyboard.

"You should take a bit of a break, Loki," Banner said before Thor could argue. "You've been at it for over six hours straight."

"And obviously it hasn't been enough. Mr Stark, can you-"

Suddenly, the lights in the lab went out. They were plunged into darkness for a moment, and then the emergency lights came on.

"JARVIS, what was that?" Stark asked, going to a nearby flat screen computer.

-I'm sorry, Sir, but it appears that I forgot to turn off the automatic systems check scheduled for this lab. It will take some time to restore power and recover your data,- the automated butler replied smoothly.

"How much time?" Loki demanded crossly.

-Fifteen minutes.-

"Half an hour," Banner interrupted mildly.

-Yes, that is what I meant. Half an hour. My mistake.-

Thor nodded his thanks.

Loki glared at the ceiling. "I don't have time for this."

"Then don't waste time trying to argue with him," Stark advised. "Sometimes he forgets to watch the clock."

Loki ground his teeth together, but turned to Thor. "Yes?"

"You should get something to eat," Banner suggested before Thor could reply.

"Yeah, before it's all gone," Stark muttered. "I swear, trying to keep seven gods fed is going to bankrupt me."

Loki sighed in annoyance, but clamoured down from his chair and headed towards the elevator. Thor walked with him, slowing his pace so that Loki wouldn't have to strain to keep up. Even still, the little demigod had to take three strides to every one of Thor's.

"Are you sure this can't wait?" Loki asked quietly, almost pleadingly, once they were in the elevator.

"I'm sure."

"I have to get the portal built."

"I know. But it's only half an hour. Banner and Stark can work on it."

Loki nodded, not looking at him.

When they arrived at the guest floor, Thor winced to hear the voices of Sif and Fandral coming from the kitchen. Loki stopped in the hallway, picking at his cuticles.

"I can get something for you," Thor offered.

"Thank you, but I will be fine." Loki squared his shoulders, and marched down the corridor with all the determination as though he was marching to the gallows. Thor followed, feeling uncomfortably like he was the executioner.

"I look nothing like that David person!" Fandral was protesting when they entered the kitchen. He glanced over to Thor as he entered. "Thor! Will you tell Sif that-" the dashing demigod caught sight of Loki and fell silent.

Sif's gaze fell on Loki and then she looked away. She grabbed an apple from the fruit basket in the middle of the kitchen table and began to peel it with one of the serrated knives she always carried. She didn't approve of the trust he was putting in Loki. She hadn't said anything, but she didn't need to. Thor knew her well enough. He hated that they hadn't talked about Loki, but they hadn't talked much at all since she had arrived on Midgard.

Hogun was also in the room, but appeared to be engrossed in a novel that had a picture of a bird carrying an arrow in its mouth on its cover.

"Where is Volstagg?" Thor asked, hoping to diffuse the tension as Loki went to the fridge.

"Agent Barton wanted to see how quickly they would be banned from the establishment called Smorgasbord," Sif replied, her voice deadly calm.

Thor frowned. "Why was I not informed?"

-I did tell you,- JARVIS said, and Fandral glanced suspiciously around. –You weren't paying attention.-

Sif glanced at Loki and then looked back at Thor. "I'm sure they will return by the time the portal is finished. If it ever is."

Loki slammed the fridge door shut, a plastic container under his arm. Without looking at anybody in the room, he turned on his heel and headed out of the kitchen, his small shoulders tense and his strides as long as his short legs could manage. Thor gave Sif an unhappy look, and turned to go.

Sif followed. Thor stopped halfway down the corridor and turned to her, while Loki continued on his way.

"Sif, I do not have time to discuss this right now."

"He cannot be trusted, Thor," Sif argued, folding her arms as Thor gazed back at her stubbornly. "Have you forgotten about how he usurped the throne and tried to murder you? Us?"

"There was no usurpation, as you well know. Father was asleep, and I was banished. The line of succession fell to-"

"He will try it again. How can you not see that? I admire your loyalty, Thor, but in this case-"

"My brother has returned, Sif. He is trying to get us back to Asgard's defence. He will succeed, and then you will see that your fears are-"

"Unfounded?"

Thor hesitated. "You do have a rightful foundation for your fears. But... Sif, I have my brother back. I can't lose him again."

Sif contemplated him for a moment. "Very well. I trust you, Thor, and I will try to have faith that you are right, even though everything I feel tells me that you are not. But I do not, and will not, trust him."

"I thank you for your honesty, but you are wrong. I hope you'll come to see that."

He turned away and headed to the elevator, determined that he would trust Sif's word. She would not do anything against Loki.

"It bothers you to be around them," he said as he and Loki entered the elevator again.

"What was your first clue?" Loki snapped and then his shoulders sagged. "I'm sorry. I'm just stressed."

"Asgard is strong, Loki, and it will not fall easily," Thor assured him, stooping so he could put his hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Even a mighty oak can be felled by a thousand termites. Can we go to the roof?" Loki added quickly, obviously wanting to change the subject. "It's been too long since I have been outside."

"Of course," Thor agreed. He hit the right button and they headed up.

"Is this about the sceptre?" Loki asked abruptly. "Is that why you want to talk to me?"

Thor hesitated. "Yes."

Loki nodded. They reached the roof, and as they walked away from the elevator doors, Thor realised that it had been some time since he had been in the sun as well. Loki sat down, prying off the lid of the container and then wrinkled his nose.

"What is it?"

"Hamburger. Raw hamburger. I guess I should have checked what I was grabbing," Loki snapped the lid back into place and set it aside.

"Do you want me to go back?"

"No. I... don't want to be alone."

Thor sat beside him.

"The last time we were up here, I said I wanted to kill you," Loki said quietly. "I wish I could say that I didn't mean it, Thor, but I did."

"I know."

"You said that you would gladly die if it meant that I would remember who I was."

"I would."

Loki frowned. "Who am I?"

"You're my brother."

Loki contemplated him for a moment before nodding. "Yes, I am that. But what else?"

"You are a prince of Asgard, a great sorcerer-"

"I don't have any magic, Thor," Loki interrupted. "This spell... I'm not just still tiny. I have regained none of my magic since Yggdrasill. Not the tiniest flicker. I am certain that I will be trapped in this body, aging only as swiftly as a mortal child would, until Odin removes his spell. I'm not a sorcerer right now. And so what am I?"

Thor lowered his head. "I am truly sorry that I cannot answer that."

They sat in silence for a moment.

"Why didn't you tell me that Thanos used the sceptre on you?"

"For the same reason I haven't told you a lot of things, and probably never will tell you."

"And why is that?"

Loki rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Because I have done a lot of things that I am ashamed of, Thor. Things that keep me awake at night, and give me nightmares when I sleep. Things that I wish I could forget that I did. And there are things that happened to me that make me sick just to think of them. Some things, I know that you'll be angry at yourself for not preventing. Other things... I know that they will change the way you see me."

"Loki, no-"

"I remember, by the way," Loki interrupted, toying with the sleeve of his sweater. "What really happened on the bridge. I remember letting go. I wanted you to know, there was nothing else you could have done. Nothing you could have said. I had been letting go a little bit at a time for a long while before that."

"I as good pushed you."

Loki looked down. "Do you forgive me for what I've done?"

"Yes."

"Then forgive yourself."

"That is not so easy," Thor sighed.

"You need to. If not for yourself, for me. I need to know that it's possible, Thor."

Thor put his thick arm around his brother's small shoulders. "Maybe it's something that we'll have to figure out together."

Loki nodded once.

Thor hesitated a moment before speaking again. "Is the sceptre why you remembered me throwing you?"

"Maybe. I wish I could blame it all on Thanos, but the truth is that even if he was the one to manipulate my memories, I gave him the tools to do it. I started it."

Thor frowned, not comprehending Loki's words. "What do you-"

"I was an addict. I took drugs. I took them, knowing that they would alter my mind. Knowing that each time I did, I was giving away a little bit of myself and letting the drug enslave me. And every time I did, I blamed you. I blamed you for being so much stronger than I was, because I knew that you would never be so weak to seek an escape like the one I was taking. I blamed you for being so much more loved than I was, so much braver-" Loki's voice hitched. Thor blinked rapidly, not knowing what to do or say. Loki was tense in his silence. "And I blamed you for not being there to save me."

"I didn't know-"

"I know. You thought I was dead. And even if you didn't, there was no way for you to find me. But was it the scepter, or the drugs, or both, that changed my memories, or was I so angry that I twisted them myself? I don't know."

Thor was silent for a long time, processing what Loki had just told him. "Were you under the control of the sceptre when you came to earth?"

"No."

Thor nodded, wishing that the answer had been different, but accepting the answer that had been given.

"It still has a hold on me, though," Loki murmured.

"What?"

Loki glanced up and grimaced. "Nothing."

"It's not nothing. You said that it still has a hold on you," Thor looked Loki firmly in the eye. "What do you mean?"

"It's... something that Thanos told me, after he released me from its control. The sceptre is part of the Tesseract. Space means very little to it. Even worlds away, it doesn't let go. It doesn't control me, and I can't use that as an excuse for anything that I've done. I made my own choices, my own mistakes."

"What-"

"Let me go at my own pace, Thor. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not so good at this-" He made air quotes "Emotional thing," Loki said crossly, and Thor bit his tongue and tried to keep himself from asking questions.

"The sceptre feeds on anger and despair, and so it cultivates that in its victims. For me, every night I dream that you want to kill me, that everybody that I love wants me dead. You, mother- And when anybody shows kindness to me, their voices are the loudest when calling for my death."

Thor sat reeling from this information. He had known that Loki had nightmares, but never imagined it was because of this! "But, if your nightmares are from the sceptre, then Barton-"

"Yes. He's... handling it better than I did, though. After all, he hasn't actually tried to kill me... which is more than I can say for myself."

"And Erik Selvig."

Loki nodded. "When he was here, he said that his nightmares had stopped. I think that it's because he didn't have enough anger or hate in him to begin with. He starved it out, as far as I can tell. Or maybe he let go of his anger, and so the sceptre let go of him. I don't know. Just as I don't know if Thanos has anything else like it. That he could use to..."

Thor waited.

"I'm afraid, brother. I haven't grown. I'm helpless. If I'm wrong, if Thanos isn't after the Tesseract and Asgard... if he's after me... And if I'm right, and Asgard is under attack..." Loki curled under his arm. "I'm just so afraid."

It was very difficult to get the words out. "I'm afraid, too."

Loki looked up.

"I'm afraid, Loki, but by the Nine, Asgard will hold strong and Thanos will never touch you again. I swear, by my life, I will not let him hurt you."

"There are powers in this universe, Thor, that are far greater than yours." Loki leaned against him. "It's been half an hour. I should get back to the lab."

Thor nodded reluctantly. "Of course. I'll bring you something to eat."

Loki smiled briefly. "Thank you, brother."

Chapter Text

-You have been staring at that for an hour.-

Loki pushed back from the desk that held the tin-gold-iridium casing he had developed for the portal. "It's too thick. But any thinner and it will be too weak to contain the energy required for matter transport over such a distance. I need to somehow strengthen the hull without changing the molecular structure of the alloy."

-I see. But seeing as you haven't come up with anything except a few new curse words since Master Stark and Dr Banner were called away, perhaps you should think of getting some rest-

"Unless you have some child-friendly drugs that'll knock me out for a few hours, I don't see how I can rest."

Loki leaned back in his chair, digging his palms into his eyes. Though he would never say it out loud, there was something intrinsically illogical about working so hard to save a realm full of people who wanted him dead. Perhaps it would be wiser to simply pretend to work and then declare that it was impossible, they were all stuck on earth. Perhaps with Frigga and Thor, he could build some semblance of a life on the planet. Even Sif and the Warriors Three couldn't be any worse to deal with on a regular basis than Barton, could they?

"It has been a long time since I've seen Asgard's beauty, JARVIS," he murmured. "The palace corridors were my playground and training grounds. The gardens my refuge. The rushing waterfalls still awe me. I used to wake up before dawn and climb to the highest tower in the palace and sit on the roof, watching the dawn rise over the water and snow-capped mountains. When I close my eyes, I see them on fire, ravaged by the Chitauri."

He would see Odin lying dead while the Chitauri feasted on his body and would shove logic aside and get back to work.

-You can't work to your full capacity when you're exhausted.-

"I have to keep working. Asgard is still my home. And as we speak, it is being destroyed."

-I will call your mother in again if I have to.-

Loki ignored the threat. "Maybe with some titanium-"

He heard the familiar soft treat of an approaching Sif. He tensed. His lack of magic was all too apparent now that his old companions had joined them on Midgard, though he rarely saw them. What Sif was doing here alone he could only speculate. He hadn't talked to her or the warriors three since he was king of Asgard. When they came to earth to bring Thor back to defeat him. Since he nearly killed them all.

"Thor's not here."

"I am not here for Thor."

"The portal's not done."

"Neither am I here about the portal."

Loki turned to Sif. Her expression was one of anger, and accusation. She was unarmed, as far as he could see, but that didn't mean that she was weaponless. She wouldn't harm him, though, not while he was working with the humans to build a portal to take them back.

"The Allfather's spell truly was binding," Sif said, sitting down. "Heimdall told me it was so, but I did not believe him."

"Do you want to kill me, Sif?" Loki asked mildly.

"I do not kill children."

"I'm not a child. I only look like one. And if I did not...?"

"It depends on the day."

Loki's lips twitched at her characteristic blunt honestly. "I see."

"I don't think you do," she responded, her eyes flashing. "We always knew you were jealous of Thor, but how could you betray Asgard like you did?"

"That was never my intention."

"And yet you did it all the same."

"I planned to destroy the Jotünns and prevent war. For the good of Asgard."

" For the good of Asgard or to gain glory?"

Loki sighed. There was no point in trying to talk to Sif. There never had been. "We are done here."

"No, we are not," Sif grabbed him as he turned away. Her fingers dug into his thin arms and her dark eyes locked on his green ones. "And when you sent the Destroyer to earth, what were your intentions then? Would you kill us for the good of Asgard? We were your friends!"

"My friends? You were not my friends. You only tolerated my presence because I am Thor's brother. Especially you, Sif." Loki struck at her arms and she released him, glaring. "Did you shed a single tear when you thought I was dead? No, why would you? You always hated me."

There was a brief look of uncertainty in her eyes, but it quickly disappeared. "I did not hate you."

"No?" Loki asked sarcastically.

"No." Sif raised her chin imperiously. "But I wouldn't expect a Jotünn to understand friendship."

The comment hurt more than it should have, and a surge of anger engulfed Loki. "You know nothing about me."

"You never belonged on Asgard!"

"You think I don't know that?"

"Enough!"

Loki and Sif both looked to the entrance of the lab where Frigga stood. Asgard's queen advanced slowly, her eyes filled with anger. Her gaze locked on Sif. The warrior dropped her own gaze to the floor, shamed. Loki likewise couldn't look at his mother. This was familiar, squabbles with Sif interrupted by Frigga or Thor or a guard.

"Lady Sif, Loki is my son, and a prince of Asgard, and I will not have you speak to him in such a manner," Frigga said slowly, letting Sif absorb the full impact of her words.

"My queen, I – I am sorry," Sif said, still staring at the floor.

Frigga studied her for a moment. "Thor and Captain Rogers are calling for the warriors to meet. They want to discuss strategy for aiding Asgard."

Sif nodded once and quickly left the room. Loki turned back to his work, bowing his head over the casing as he put the components together. Even though it was not ready, he wanted to appear busy. He didn't want to talk to anyone, not even his mother. Frigga sat beside him, putting her hand on his shoulder.

"She's right, though," Loki said softly. "I never belonged on Asgard."

"Look at me."

Loki obeyed.

Frigga cupped his face with her hands. "You are my son. I love you."

Loki pulled away.

"When was the last time you ate?"

"I'm not hungry."

Frigga sighed. "Meaning you don't remember. You haven't slept, either."

Loki managed a smile. How well his mother knew him. "I need to build this. If nothing else, I can try to protect Asgard from my actions."

"You cannot work properly when your body needs nourishment and rest."

Loki reluctantly put the device down. "There is not much I can do at the moment. I will make certain everything is working as it should and then retire to my room."

Frigga accepted it with a nod. "I will prepare you something to eat."

After Frigga left, Loki checked all of JARVIS's simulations to ensure they were running smoothly and instructed the AI to inform him when the programs were finished. Yawning, he headed into the elevator.

"But I'm still hungry," Loki heard Volstagg complain when he arrived on the guest floor.

"If you keep eating those pop tarts in such a manner you will be so stout that you'll be unable to heft your axe," Fandral shot back. "Thor wants us to gather."

"You are only concerned that there will be no pop tarts left for you," Hogun, grim-voiced as always, replied.

"You haven't been holding yourself back, either."

Loki hurried towards his room, but he wasn't quite fast enough. The warriors three fell silent when they saw him. He turned his head and stared determinedly at the wall.

"How comes the portal?" Volstagg asked suddenly.

"I am waiting for a few programs to run their courses," Loki responded, hastening his step.

"How-" Volstagg started, but Loki darted into his room and shut the door.

#

Frigga still found Midgardian food strange, but not unpleasant. In some ways, it was refreshing to be on Midgard, away from the demands of queenhood. She sighed as she thought of her home. When Odin had sent her to Midgard, he had fervently promised that he would not allow the council to have their way with Loki's punishment. But if the warriors three and Lady Sif were meant to take them all back...

No. She trusted Odin with all her heart. He would not allow the council to kill their child. He would never bend to their will. She knew that with every fiber of her being.

Quickly, Frigga made a sandwich and went to Loki's room. He had changed into sleeping clothes, but was sitting in the little bed staring down at his hands. He looked up sharply as she entered. She had startled him. If he hadn't heard her coming, it could only mean that he was deeply wrapped into his thoughts, and they would not be good ones.

"Here," Frigga said, sitting on the floor and handing him the plate.

"I'll eat when I wake."

"You don't look like you're trying to sleep."

Loki's brow furrowed, and he took a deep breath. "I'm afraid to. I have nightmares. Every time I close my eyes. I dream of all the reasons why... why the council should get their wish. I suppose... it's better than it was. I no longer dream that you want me dead as well."

"I could never want that."

"When we were in Asgard," Loki continued, and he still wouldn't look at her, "I didn't want to see you because... because I was afraid that my nightmares would become reality."

"That would never happen," Frigga said, and her voice shook with emotion. "Loki, you are my son, and I will always love you."

"But I'm not your son." Loki's voice broke. "I'm Jotünn. An unwanted child."

"I wanted you." Frigga carded her fingers through Loki's black hair. There was such pain in his eyes it made Frigga's heart ache. How she wished she could hold him close and take away his pain and guilt!

"I knew the moment I held you that you were my son," she told him. "You were always meant to be part of our family. You were so small, so beautiful... my perfect baby boy. Thor took to you instantly. He was hardly walking, but showered you with attention." Frigga paused and smiled with her memories. "He loved to make you smile. You were such a happy baby, always laughing. You showed a penchant for magic and mischief even then."

A single tear leaked from Loki's eye. Frigga pretended not to see as Loki hastily brushed it away. He hesitantly put his tiny hand into hers.

"And Thor's first full phrase was 'Can Loki play now?' and my first word was his name. You love telling that story." Loki didn't brush away a second tear that rolled down his cheek. "I'm not your little boy anymore. I'll never be him again."

"You will always be my son." She twisted her hands. How could she say what needed to be said? "Loki, there is something that I never told you or Thor." She hesitated, her heart weighing heavy, making her tongue feel thick. "I lost a child once."

Loki's brow furrowed.

"A boy. Balder. He lived only for a few days. He died in my arms. And I swore that I would never have another child, because it would hurt too much if I lost them. Then Thor came. And you." She cupped his face with her hand. "It would kill me if I lost either one of you."

"Why haven't I heard of him?" Loki asked quietly. "If he was the firstborn of the king and queen of Asgard..."

Frigga closed her eyes briefly. "Balder was born before I met your father."

Understanding came to Loki's eyes. "Oh," he said softly, holding her hand in both of his.

"The story... is hard for me to share. It took me years to tell Odin. I had hoped that I would never have to tell you." Tears pooled in her eyes. "I'm not sure I can tell you everything."

"You don't have to." Loki clutched her hand. "I don't want to see you in pain."

Frigga pulled her boy into her embrace, and stroked his dark hair. "I know."

"I know I've hurt you, Mother. Terribly. I don't know how to say that I'm sorry. I don't know how to change."

Loki buried his face in her shoulder and clung to her. He hadn't let her hold him in years. He had been an affectionate child, always giving hugs and kisses in abundance. Slowly he had become more cold and distant as he grew. If she had reached out to him more, could she have adverted all the heartache? Would Thanos never have gotten hold of him?

Loki's small frame shook, but he didn't make a sound. Frigga held him for as long as he let her. Eventually Loki's shoulders stopped shaking and he pulled away from her. His face was dry, but he wouldn't look her in the face. She touched his cheek. She needed to tell him the full tale, but not now. Later, when he did not have quite so much weighing on his mind.

"I am very tired," he said, hardly audible. He lay down and turned his back.

Frigga instinctively started to pull the blankets over him. She stopped when his shoulders hitched. Tears came to her eyes as she looked at her son; he looked like the happy baby she had known all those many years ago. He was not that boy anymore. But she was certain that he could find his way out of the darkness, if only he could believe that his family still loved him, that it was possible to find his way home.

"I love you, Loki," she said softly.

She was at the door before she heard his soft reply. "I love you, too, Mother."

Chapter Text

It was a tense week full of planning and discussions before Loki completed the portal to his specifications. As soon as he was certain it was ready, everybody gathered on the rooftop. The Avengers would accompany the Asgardians back to Asgard. Frigga, Loki, and Miss Potts stood a little away from the group of warriors. Fury had agreed to take them to the helicarrier as soon as the warriors were away, just in case.

"Just be careful," Loki murmured as he fiddled with controls on the portal, which looked like a small bifrost, a grey-gold casing shaped like an orb with a single arm for focusing the transportation energy. "If Thanos gets the Tesseract-"

"He will not," Thor assured him.

"So command of the humans is going to be left with the captain, while you lead both groups into this battle?"

"As Stark put it "my world, my crazy rules, I know it best" and so I should have command status."

Loki tried to give him a mischievous smile. "At least your armour didn't rust from disuse."

Thor patted his back. "Everything will turn out right."

He stood, and Frigga pulled him into her embrace.

"Be careful," she murmured softly.

Thor smiled reassuringly. "Mother, I am always careful."

Frigga raised one eyebrow.

"I mean, other than that time on Jotunhiem..." Thor added sheepishly. "And Nornhiem. And-"

"Just be careful this time, Thor," Frigga interrupted, embracing him again. "I fear that there is more going on here than any of us know."

Thor glanced over his shoulder to where Sif and the Warriors Three were waiting. Sif was carefully not looking at Loki. She still didn't trust him, but had once again put her faith and trust in Thor. He felt a surge of warm gratitude towards her."

"Everything will be fine, Mother. We will drive Thanos's army from Asgard just as we drove it from earth. He will not find the tesseract. He will not harm our realm. He will not again hurt Loki. You have my word."

Frigga tried to smile, but it was unconvincing.

"It's ready," Stark called.

Thor turned. The warriors gathered in the center of the roof, Stark putting his helmet on, the others making sure they had all their weapons. Banner reluctantly unbuttoned his shirt and dropped it to the floor.

"Tony, be careful," Miss Potts said worriedly.

"Pep, I'm always careful," Stark responded in much the same way Thor had responded to Frigga. Thor frowned. Had he sounded just as unconvincing? Miss Potts and Frigga shared a long-suffering look.

"We're ready," Rogers said, looking at Loki.

Loki's glance flickered over them. Anxiety was clear in his eyes. His gaze landed on Thor and he opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He walked over to the laptop that sat nearby, hooked up to the portal, and began to type on it. His shoulders were tense.

The orb glowed a sickly green light. It began to spin around the axis of the arm. The light increased, shooting out and enveloping the warriors. Thor felt a tingling lightness flood his body, starting with his hands and feet and quickly spreading to the center of his body. It was both similar and unlike the sensation of the bifrost or the tesseract.

"No, no, no!" Thor was suddenly aware that Loki was shouting. "No, this is wrong, this is all- Thor!"

A flash of green light enveloped him and he felt himself being dragged away from earth. There was a confusing blur of sound and colour. His whole body went numb, and for a terrible moment he was certain that Sif was right, that Loki had been planning on killing them all along-

And then it stopped. Thor gasped for breath and feeling rushed painfully back into his body. He staggered and bent over, resting his hands against his knees. Nausea bubbled in his stomach. Taking deep breaths, he looked up to see all his friends likewise stumbling or bent over. Volstagg had sat down, looking green.

Forcing himself upright, Thor studied their position. They were standing between two stone buildings in a tight alley, but beyond the road he saw the distinctive spires of Asgard's palace. He breathed out a sigh of relief and smiled.

"Take heart, friends, we are here," he said, turning around. He stopped, all relief draining from him in an instant. Both his friends from Asgard and Midgard were looking at the end of the alley, and that was where Thor's gaze was instantly drawn to as well.

The portal had brought Frigga, Miss Potts and Loki to Asgard as well.

#

The first thing Natasha thought was that at least her body parts were still in the proper order. The second was that Loki had really screwed up. She stared at the three who were not supposed to be there. Frigga and Pepper both looked confused and apprehensive. Loki busily inspected his hands.

"Does everybody still have their fingers?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly.

"What happened?" Rogers demanded

"The energy containment field must have breached," Banner replied instantly. "The transport overflowed and caught them in its wake."

"Thinning out as it did so," Loki responded, looking up briefly before looking back down at himself. "Dangerously so, which could result in corporeal displacement. And so I ask again; does everybody still have their fingers?"

Natasha did a quick diagnostic. She seemed to still be in one piece.

"We should move," Rogers said, "That transport light could have been seen by enemy soldiers."

"This way," Thor said, starting off. Everybody followed swiftly, Frigga scooping Loki up into her arms so that he wouldn't get left behind.

"It's so quiet," Natasha murmured after an hour of winding through the empty streets and allies. "Where is everyone?"

"As soon as the city was attacked, the women and children would have been evacuated to a safe location," Sif informed her. "But where the soldiers and Chitauri warriors are, I cannot say."

Natasha nodded once. There was evidence that a battle had taken place all around them. Scorch marks on buildings, chunks of rock and plaster blown out of walls, the occasional smoldering ruins of a house. But no bodies. No sounds in the distance. It made Natasha's hair stand on end and prickle the back of her neck. What was going on?

"In here," Thor said, gesturing to what appeared to be a livery stable. They filed in quickly, Clint and Hogun standing at the door to watch the streets.

"What's the plan, Thor?" Rogers asked.

"We need to get to the palace as see what goes there, and find where my father is."

"Not to mention everybody else," Stark added.

Thor nodded. "My mother, Miss Potts and Loki will stay here. It is a defensible position, and they can remain hidden. It's too dangerous to try to remove you to the caves," Thor said, looking at his mother. "Volstagg will stay as a guard, as well as one of the Avengers."

"Romanoff, that will be you," Rogers ordered, and Natasha nodded. The Captain turned back to Thor. "We should do some recon."

"Stark, do a quick flyover of the city. If you see anybody, Chitauri or Asgardian, you are return immediately. My people will not recognise you as a friend," Thor said.

Stark nodded.

"Radio silence unless you find something," Thor added. "That goes for all."

Knives were given to Pepper and Frigga, and then the company headed out. Within moments, Natasha couldn't even hear the sounds of their feet on the stone streets. She peered out onto the streets, watching for any motion, any sign of life. It was eerily still. There wasn't even a wind, and the overcast sky seemed to press down on the city.

Volstagg hefted his axe. "This silence steals the warmth from my blood! Where is the battle? Where is the army? Where is the enemy?"

"Where are the bodies?" Natasha murmured.

"The fountain is broken."

Natasha startled slightly. She hadn't realised that Loki had walked over to join the two, looking through the thin crack of the door. She followed his gaze and saw the fountain that he was referring to. At one time it would have been a tree with its branches spouting water, she supposed, but the top of tree was lying in pieces around a broken trunk and the water had run dry.

"A new one will be built," Volstagg said, but he sounded subdued.

"A new one?" Loki replied softly. "That fountain was at the founding of Asgard as a unified realm. How can you build a new icon of passing time and solidity?"

"It was?" Volstagg asked, sounding surprised. "I thought it was just a pretty place to cool my feet."

"You stuck your feet in there?" Loki sounded scandalized.

Volstagg shifted, a blush creeping out from under his beard. "Only on hot days."

Loki shook his head in apparent disgust.

"But it can be rebuilt. Most of the tree is still intact. Fixing the shattered remains is possible. And then it will stand for something new. Enduring hope, a sign that no matter what befalls this people, we will always rebuild and strengthen ourselves again!" Volstagg nodded, looking pleased with himself. "I should write that down before I forget."

"It is a beautiful sentiment," Loki murmured.

"Yes, it is," Natasha agreed. "But you should get back with Frigga and Pepper. It's safer."

Loki nodded and left them again. He rejoined Frigga and Pepper, sitting between them. Frigga put her arm around his shoulders, and he leaned against her. Pepper said something in a low voice, and he shrugged. Natasha turned back to the street.

"What is happening?" Volstagg muttered impatiently. "Would I be in battle instead of waiting and watching!"

"You're not much one for patience, are you?"

"It's not that. I'm hungry."

Natasha wasn't certain if Volstagg was being serious or joking, but she smiled anyway. "I could go for some rice and fish myself."

"Leg of mutton," Volstagg said. "Roast boar. Broiled pheasant. And those delicious pop tarts from your realm."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "What is it with Asgardians and pop tarts?"

Volstagg didn't answer. Instead, he gazed out the door and his expression grew serious and concerned. "I wish I knew my wife and children were safe," he murmured.

Natasha glanced at him and opened her mouth, but didn't speak. Because at that moment, a voice started to speak. Booming, echoing, callous and amused.

"I know you are here, Loki."

There was a sharp intake of breath behind her. She turned and saw both Loki and Frigga had gone white.

So. This must be Thanos.

Chapter Text

"I know you are here, princeling."

Loki tensed as he heard the booming voice. Thanos. He doesn't know where I am or he would have me already, Loki thought, getting to his feet. He's projecting his message over the whole city. Meant for me, but also whatever survivors are left.

"Loki."

Frigga reached for him, but Loki hastily beat a retreat, keeping out of arm's reach of both her and Pepper.

"I know that the so-called heroes of Earth have arrived, thinking that they can somehow defeat my army when the whole of Asgard could not," Thanos continued, and fear and anger rose like bile in Loki's chest. "It will be most amusing to see them die. I dared not hope to watch such a thing until I destroyed their world."

Pepper let out an involuntary cry. Romanoff quickly shushed her.

"Little prince, were we not friends once?"

Friends. I have no friends... Loki glanced at Pepper. Yes, I do.

"Did I not give you all that you desired?"

What did he desire? His gaze went to Frigga. To be loved, to have a family.

" And all I asked in return was for a simple gift. A gift you denied me. But can that not be forgiven?"

Forgiven. Lastly, Loki looked at Romanoff. He knew what forgiveness meant, finally...

"Come find me, and you and I can be friends once more."

Loki dug his palms into his eyes. He reached deep inside of himself, and caught hold of the smallest of flickers. Perhaps it was being back on Asgard, perhaps it was simply that enough time had passed. Perhaps it was even a side effect of the botched transport, but he had a spark of magic again. Enough for one small trick.

His final trick.

"Friends once more? What does that mean?" Volstagg demanded.

Loki opened his eyes to see four sets of eyes on him. "It means that he can't find the Tesseract. He wants me to get it for him."

"And then?"

"And then he will kill me."

"You aren't thinking of going!" Pepper asked, alarmed.

Loki shook his head. "Of course not."

And it was true. He wasn't thinking of going. He had already decided.

If he did not obey, then Thanos would come looking. He would find Frigga, Pepper, Volstagg, and Romanoff, and he would kill them. He would find Thor, Banner, Stark, and the others, and he would kill them too. Loki knew that he had no other fate in store. Thanos would torture him, kill him. His fate had been sealed the moment he agreed to lead a war he did not want to win.

But before that happened, he would be able to cause a little more mischief. He could help in what ways he could. He could distract Thanos.

It was all he could do.

"Stop, I know that face. Loki, this is not your fault-" Frigga started.

"I'm sorry, Mother," Loki interrupted, and then seized the spark of magic in his chest. Closing his eyes tightly, he let off a blinding flash of light and ran through the door.

The spark of magic disappeared. He was helpless again.

Frigga and Pepper were shouting after him, but suddenly stopped. Romanoff and Volstagg no doubt stopped them. The four would be blind to him for a little while, in any case. Even if they came after him, they wouldn't be able to see him.

But Loki didn't stop running. Come find me, Thanos had said. Well, there was only one place where he would be, and Loki didn't even try to hide himself as he ran towards the palace.

I'm here, he thought, do whatever you want to me.

#

The small group of humans and Aesir were almost to the palace when the booming voice started to speak. They all stopped, listening. By the way Thor's face drained of colour, Clint knew the speaker must be Thanos. Banner, too, looked anxious. Rogers frowned, glancing over the teams. Sif, Fandral and Hogun didn't twitch. Their expressions remained hard.

"He will betray us again," Sif said the instant the booming voice stopped speaking. "Friend. That Jotünn is incapable of friends-"

"Mind how you speak of my brother, Lady Sif," Thor growled warningly. "You do not know of what you speak. That was not an invitation. It was a threat."

Sif held Thor's gaze challengingly.

"A threat of what?" Fandral asked.

"That if Loki doesn't turn himself in, Thanos will go looking. And he would find everyone who has managed to stay hidden in the city," Clint promptly replied. He tried to keep his face and voice emotionless.

"Why would he care?" Sif asked, and there was bitterness and anger in her voice. She and Thor continued staring each other down. "He tried to kill his friends, why would he care about these people he doesn't even know?"

"Were we ever truly his friends?" Hogun asked quietly.

"Of course we were," Fandral replied, but he sounded uncertain.

"He's in the body of a toddler and has no magic," Banner said. "Romanoff won't let him go. Will she?"

"No," Clint replied. "And even if she thought about letting him, Frigga and Potts would never-"

As irony would have it, it was at that moment that that Natasha's voice spoke over the earpiece. "Captain, we have a problem. Loki's gone."

Thor closed his eyes and his shoulders sagged. Sif's expression became uncertain.

"What happened?" Rogers asked.

"There was a flash of light, and he ran off. I couldn't see where he went."

"I'll look for him," Stark volunteered.

"No," Thor said softly. "He knows this city. If he doesn't want to be found, he will not be. And if he does... the Chitauri will find him first. We keep going to the palace. The only way any of this will end is if we drive Thanos from this realm."

His expression was tortured.

Sif put her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry. What I said... I know how much you love him."

Thor accepted this with a nod, and then took a deep breath. "We continue."

"Romanoff, you need to stay with Frigga and Potts," Rogers ordered quietly. "Protect them."

Clint glanced at his teammates. They were carefully not looking at him. It was one of those situations where he should have been happy about the turn of events. But this wasn't exactly the revenge the archer had in mind. Whatever Thanos was going to do to, it wasn't going to be a quick and clean death.

Clint wished that Natasha was with them, if only to have somebody trying to figure out what he truly felt. He certainly didn't want to.

"Cap, he's too small to defend himself," Natasha said softly.

"Protect Frigga and Potts," Rogers ordered again. He hoisted his shield. "We continue."

And they did.

#

Loki willed himself not to betray his fear as a dozen Chitauri marched him through the familiar golden halls of the palace. He passed the familiar sights, but they had all been deformed. Portraits and statues of the ancient kings were defaced and broken, the delicate tapestries were torn, and in many places blood stained the walls and floor. Within the palace, he could hear sounds of battle.

Was that Odin's voice? Loki quickly dismissed any emotion it arose.

The Chitauri took him to a high tower room. Thanos stood with his back to the door. Loki kept walking forward boldly until a Chitauri gripped his small shoulder. There was one servant left in the room, his face bloodied, cowering in the corner. Loki didn't recognise him.

"You are not as old as when we last met," Thanos said without turning.

"As you well knew already," Loki replied. "How long were you watching me on earth?"

"From the beginning. Tell me, princeling, have you begun to trust them? Perhaps even care for some of them?"

"I don't see how that matters one way or another."

Thanos turned. Loki forced himself not to shrink back as he gazed into the electric blue eyes sunken deep in the massive purple face. Not even when he had been dying, relying entirely on the Avenger's mercy, had he felt so small and insignificant.

Thanos grinned, showing tombstone-like teeth. "It matters. Where is the Tesseract?"

"I don't know."

"Ah, but you have some idea where Odin would have put it."

Loki was silent.

"The Aesir put up a worthy fight. This is a battle to be remembered in years to come. They die boldly. Come look," Thanos invited, gesturing to the window.

The servant, trembling, brought a step stool and placed it down as Loki approached before skittering back to his corner. Thanos gripped Loki's arm and swung him up to the top to look out the window. Loki's heart constricted. Below him fires were raging, skirmishes were ongoing, and piles of dead bodies of both Chitauri and Aesir littered the once-beautiful land.

"This was all possible because of you," Thanos said as a proud father would to his son, putting a heavy hand on Loki's shoulder. "How does it feel, knowing that the most powerful race in the Nine Realms has been brought to its knees by your actions? This is your revenge."

"I never wanted this," Loki whispered, but in the silence of the room his voice grated on his ears.

"Odin has yet eluded us, but no matter. The city has fallen and my Chitauri have feasted on the bodies of the dead. It is only a matter of time before those few left alive in this palace are defeated, and how shall the rest of the realm fight when their king's head hangs from my belt?"

"They will fight. And you will lose."

"You do not sound convinced."

"I'm not."

Thanos ruffled his hair, chuckling fondly. "You are a precious baby, aren't you?"

Loki pressed his lips together.

"Yes, Odin will be overrun soon. I shall not kill him quickly, though. I wish for this battle to continue."

"Then why call me forward so soon?"

"You see that building over there? The livery stable?" Thanos pointed.

Loki searched for a moment, and then his heart stopped beating. Mother! A task of Chitauri was slowly working in around the stable where she hid. A quick gasp escaped from Loki's lips.

"I see that you do. The Queen of Asgard is within that building, as you well know."

This time the servant cried out. A Chitauri punched him in the face.

"She shall be brought to me alive, of course. A dead queen will break the spirits of her people, but a queen killed before their very eyes will motivate them. And I am so enjoying this battle. Her companions, however, are not necessary. I am sure that my warriors have grown hungry again. The fat one should satisfy a few, should he not? The women, I think, might do well in the service of my temple. Well, Pepper Potts at least. Natasha Romanoff would be more useful in other areas. If I was so gracious as to let them live."

Loki's face was pale and he felt weak. He wet his lips, but couldn't speak.

"Of course, there are other avenues for battle that I could pursue. I could leave the stable and the four inside alone, until the end of the battle when I collect my prisoners." Thanos smiled down at Loki. "What are you willing to do to save your mother?"

There was no other answer. "What do you want me to do?"

"There was a vow in the ancient days of Asgard that the king would require of his subjects. A vow which ensured their loyalty."

Loki blanched. "Vili eiga."

"Is that what you call it now?"

"I don't know how-"

"I do."

Loki trembled. This was what Thanos wanted from him? To take a vow that would bind his will in subjection to whatever commands he was given? Yes, that would be punishment. It would be like being under the control of the sceptre again- Worse, Loki realised, because I will know exactly what I do.

But if it was the only way to save his mother, so be it.

"Tell me how."

"Come," Thanos ordered, walking to the center of the room.

Loki followed.

Thanos motioned to the servant, who carried a small chest over to them. Thanos opened it, and Loki flinched as light stabbed into his eyes. When it was no longer painful to look, he saw that the light emanated from a bowl situated in a nest of velvet. It was filled with a clear liquid that was as smooth as glass. Thanos took the bowl from the chest and set it on the floor.

"Kneel," he ordered.

Loki hesitated, and then obeyed. Thanos took a decorative dagger from his belt, and made a small cut in his own hand. Three drops of blood fell into the bowl. The liquid rippled and turned red.

"Now, you swear to obey my will by your life and drink the draught."

Loki tried to keep his breath even. "I swear to obey your-"

"By your life."

"I swear by my life to obey your will- so long as my mother remains unharmed." It was desperate. But perhaps it would work.

"Very well." Thanos chuckled. "Now drink."

The bowl was so heavy that Loki's small arms could hardly lift it. He held it to his lips and tipped the liquid in. His mouth seared and his throat burned. Loki tried to throw the bowl away. To his horror, he found that his body had locked in position. His throat worked by his own will, swallowing the foul brew down.

When the bowl was empty, Loki collapsed. His tongue and throat tingled and burned, and the feeling quickly enveloped him. Thanos knelt beside him and checked to make sure he was breathing.

"And that is all there is to it." The titan stood and walked around Loki's tiny, fallen frame. "Now, for a test... Self-wounding is overused, to be honest, and would not work with you anyway. You are so willing to inflict injuries upon your own being that it would not tell me if it was a result of obedience or defiance. Stand."

He couldn't obey the order, he didn't have the strength- And yet his arms pushed him up, his feet set flat on the floor and his legs straightened. He swayed on the spot, but he stood. Thanos held the dagger to him.

"Kill the servant."

Before his mind had even finished processing the order, Loki's hand had snatched the dagger. His arm whipped around and his hand let the dagger fly. It sunk into the servant's eye and the man collapsed. Loki stared at the dead man, horror welling in him.

"Good. My plans here are filled. You are to stay here while I rejoin the battle."

Thanos turned to go, and Loki's horror increased. "You're not going to have me tell you where to find the Tesseract?"

Thanos stopped. "Why would I bother with the Tesseract when I have a well of information such as you? You do not even realise the knowledge you have. How quickly did you build the transport to return here? And from materials found on Earth of all places!"

What?

"You will remain in this room until the battle is over. Should Asgard defeat me, then you will kill Odin and Thor when they come for you. And when they are dead, you will kill Frigga. Should I defeat Asgard, you will kill Thor and Odin at my command. And then you will give me all the knowledge I desire."

The orders were like physical bindings wrapping around him. Loki's heart plummeted.

"This is what you wanted from the start," he whispered hatefully. "You wanted to force me to take the vow. You could have taken me from earth at any point. Attacking Asgard had nothing to do with the recovery of the Tesseract."

"And when I am finished with you," Thanos continued, as if he hadn't heard, "I will let you go to wander the universe, lost and alone, to remember the blood on your hands. A shattered man, wishing for death... But I will not let you die, nor will I permit others to kill you. I will not let you take any measures to dull your thoughts. This is your punishment, Loki, because what pain is worse than the torment of one's own mind?"

Loki could no longer bear it. He bowed his head, hating himself, hating the universe. His mind flickered to the dagger in the servant's eye.

Thanos had thought of it as well. "You will not harm yourself. Now. Tell me what you are thinking."

"You did not order me to do you no harm."

"No. I did not." Thanos laughed softly, and then left to rejoin the battle.

Loki sank to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest. He dropped his head, wrapping his arms around his legs. Shutting his eyes, he fought against the orders placed on him, but he knew it was useless. If Thor and Odin did not die in battle, then he would end their lives, no matter how he fought against himself.

He was unaware of how long he dwelt in his anguish, but then he heard footsteps approaching. Familiar footsteps. Loki raised his face to see Barton staring down at him.

Barton.

Loki scrambled to his feet. Well, at least somebody will get what they want. Loki laughed humourlessly. "The universe was a cruel place, to you as my salvation."

Barton's brow furrowed. "What?"

"You have to kill me."

Barton stared at Loki without comprehension.

"I pledged the vili eiga to Thanos so that my mother would not be harmed. He wants the knowledge that I possess, and cannot be allowed to have it. Kill me."

Barton was silent for a long time, searching Loki's face. Loki waited. All trace of emotion shut off in Barton's expression.

"Turn around."

Loki obeyed without comment. He was far calmer than he would have expected. Perhaps because he had been placed at the edge of death so often it no longer held fear for him. Perhaps because his death now was for a purpose; he would protect his family. By dying, he would finally escape the hell of his life and finally, finally, make up for some of the horrors he had caused.

There was the soft click of a folding knife locking into place. Barton knelt behind him, pinning his elbows to his sides with one arm. It was not necessary. Loki would not resist. The blade pressed against his throat and he raised his chin so that Barton would have an easier time of it. It would be quick.

Loki closed his eyes and waited.

Chapter Text

"Kill me."

Clint couldn't quite comprehend the words coming out of Loki's mouth. He searched the demigod's face and posture for some sign that this was some sort of trick to get him killed. He found nothing that suggested that was the case. Loki's gaze was steady, expectant, waiting.

Well. It was the excuse he had been waiting for. But suddenly Clint found himself not wanting to look into Loki's eyes as his life left him.

"Turn around," Clint ordered, and Loki obeyed. The assassin looked down at him, and drew a knife from his pocket.

Two Hours Earlier

The two teams quickly made their way into the palace, where they could finally hear fighting. Clint rubbed his thumb along his bow as the group entered the huge building. It was more magnificent than anything he had ever seen; golden walls, vaulted ceilings, fine works of art everywhere.

"Any conflict remaining would be in defence of the weapons' vault," said Thor, "We will split up and come at the Chitauri from two sides. Fandral, Hogun, go with Captain Rogers and Doctor Banner around the east. Follow the Captain's commands as if they were my own. Sif, Stark, Barton and I will go to the south."

They dissembled, and Clint followed Thor through the corridors of the palace, moving quickly. Stark clunked along clumsily in his suit, and more than once Clint heard him mutter something about flexibility.

"The battle is getting louder, but there is a sound I do not place," Thor replied. "Like the crunching of bones..."

The blonde demigod lifted his hand to stop the group just outside a double oak door. He and Sif glanced at each other, and then with a series of gestures let the humans know the plan:

Rush in and crush everything. Clint had to admire such forthright thinking, even if it wasn't what he was used to.

Lifting his hammer, Thor broke down the doors. He rushed in with a battle cry, Sif following close behind with her spear at the ready. Stark blasted in on full impulse. Clint began firing arrows. Within moments, the four attackers were all who were left alive.

"They... eat the dead," Thor said in horror. He bent over a mangled corpse. A Chitauri's jaws were locked around what was once a man's arm. "Andar. He was long part of the Einherjar..."

Sif savagely kicked a Chitauri. "It sickens me that this scum treads these great halls."

Clint turned slightly as he heard the sound of feet in the corridor. "There's more coming."

"Go ahead, I will hold them off," Sif volunteered, taking a stand at the entrance.

"No, I need you to help free my father," Thor replied. "Barton will be better suited to this."

Clint grinned. "Sure thing," he said, taking an explosive-headed arrow from his quiver. "And I have just the place to wait for them."

With a running start, he jumped against the wall to grab a heavy-roped tapestry, with which he quickly scaled the wall to kneel on a ledge. He could see far into the corridor, and the little lip on the edge gave him some measure of protection. He fitted his arrow.

"Go on, I've got this," he told the others confidently.

"Here," Thor grabbed a discarded shield from the floor and tossed it up to him. "Fire true, my friend."

"Fire true?" Stark repeated as they started away again. "Thor, he always fires true."

Clint positioned the shield to give him extra protection, and drew his bow taut. This was something he knew, something that he could always count on. His eyes narrowed on the corridor, and he waited.

#

Thor knew who was defending the weapons vault before they reached the battled. He heard their voices and knew. Odin. Heimdall. Njord. Many others.

Sif was with him, as she always was, and Stark was close behind. He smashed open the last doors between them and their quarry. With a roar, he leapt into the fray. He crushed two Chitauri with one blow. He heard Sif's battle cry as she speared her enemies, and Stark's repulsor beams blasted.

Chitauri rushed to meet them.

In that second there another roar blasted from the opposite side, and the Hulk grinned as widely as Thor. The massive green warrior grabbed a Chitauri in each hand and used them as clubs to swing at the other warriors.

Thor heard the distinctive voices of Hogun and Fandral. He laughed triumphantly.

Nothing could stop them now.

#

Natasha spotted a sliver of movement. She raised her gun, aiming carefully as she watched for it to come again.

Another flicker caught her eye.

And another. Her heart leapt to her throat as she realised that they were completely surrounded by Chitauri. She held her gun ready but didn't fire. There was the possibility that they hadn't been detected yet. Beside her, Volstagg tensed, tightening his grip on his axe.

After a long moment, the Chitauri passed.

Natasha let out a long, slow breath. That was too close. She signaled Volstagg to keep a look out and then noiselessly moved back to Frigga. "Is there anywhere else we can hide? It doesn't feel right to stay here."

"I know of no place. A queen's duty does not include pouring over blueprints or city plans," Frigga responded, ironically and regretfully. She hadn't stopped pacing since Loki had run off. It had taken all three of them to keep her from running after him.

Natasha nodded. "We'll have to stay here, then. I just don't like it."

#

Caught in the three-way attack, the Chitauri could do nothing but fight. Steve wielded a short sword that Fandral had found for him, but still used his shield as a weapon when it wasn't protecting. The battle presssed in on him from all sides; there was no space or time to take a better look at what was happening. He wasn't even aware that he was fighting the last Chitauri until he skewered it and looked up panting to see his team and the Aesir were the only ones left standing.

"Father!" Thor cried, rushing forward to grip the arm of an old man who was leaning heavily on a spear of some sort. So this was Odin, king of Asgard. He looks it, Steve thought, taking in the armour and helmet.

"Your return is most welcomed, Thor," Odin replied. He embraced his son.

"Father, these are the warriors from Earth," Thor said, gesturing at the team.

"Hey," Stark greeted with a nonchalant wave.

Most of the Aesir were more preoccupied with the Hulk, who was trying to wipe mashed-up Chitauri from the bottom of his feet.

"Where's Barton?" Steve asked, realising that the archer was missing.

"He was holding off Chitauri reinforcements. Sif, Hogun, go with Captain Rogers to retrieve Agent Barton."

"The human archer is no longer where you left him," said a tall, dark-skinned man with golden eyes.

"What happened?" Sif asked.

"He drew the Chitauri into a better location and used an explosive of some sort to destroy them. It seems that he got lost trying to find his way back."

"And where is the traitor?" said a thickly muscled man as he stepped forward. His hair was short and grey, and had a face that was as scarred as it was wrinkled.

"Njord, Loki is the only reason we were able to return," Thor said sharply.

"So he could rejoin his ally."

"Yeah, some ally. That creep-" Stark started.

"Stark, not now," Steve said quickly. He gave Iron Man a look that he hoped Stark would respect. There would be time later. Right now they needed to regroup with Barton, find Loki, and get back to the others they left at the stables. Frigga and Pepper needed protected.

"Where is my brother?" Thor asked Heimdall.

"He is not your brother," Njord replied sharply. "He is Jotünn."

Thor had a few things to say to that, and Odin gripped his arm, his single blue eye sharpening with anger.

"This can wait-,"

The Hulk apparently didn't feel like letting the conversation continue. He stalked over and peered through narrowed eyes at Heimdall. Reaching out one massive hand, he poked the Aesir in the chest.

Heimdall's expression did not change.

"Where little Puny God?" the Hulk demanded.

Some of the Aesir looked surprised that he could speak.

Heimdall didn't reply.

Thor strode forward and gripped his shoulder, staring intently. "Heimdall? Where is Loki?"

Heimdall's golden gaze was steady and stoic. Steve glanced at his teammates and pressed in closer, as if that would make Heimdall answer. The Aesir turned and looked at Odin, as if asking permission to speak. With the barest hint of anxiety, fear even, Odin nodded. Heimdall looked at the Hulk, Steve, Stark, and lastly at Thor.

"There is no saving him now, Thor," the gatekeeper said softly. "Loki has taken the vili eiga. He is now Thanos's thrall."

Thor released Heimdall and backed away, horror and terror dawning. "You lie!" he shouted, lifting his hammer, and then instantly looked chagrined. "Forgive me, Heimdall, I did not mean that."

Steve was about to step forward when he noticed that Odin was leaning even more heavily on his spear as if he were about to fall over. Grief, anger, and disbelief were clear in the line of his back and reflected in his eye. Steve stepped forward to offer some support, but seeing him, Odin straightened again. He turned his gaze back to Heimdall, though he still clutched his spear.

"Wait, this isn't that vili eiga vow thing that you told us, is it?" Stark asked Thor, sliding his faceplate up, looking alarmed. Thor nodded tensely. "So what, now Loki has to do everything he's told? Why would he do that?"

Njord spoke. "Clearly he has loyalty to this Thanos that extends beyond his pride."

The Hulk let out a deep, angry growl. Njord took a step back, looking at him warily.

"No," Heimdall said, in a mildly rebuking tone. "He took the vow to protect the queen."

Odin pushed past Thor. "Frigga is here?"

"She is safe, for now," Heimdall said. "Thanos is not attempting to capture her, though he knows where she hides. He will wait, I think, but warriors should be sent to her aid immediately."

"Heimdall, where is Loki?" Thor said, loudly, disallowing any further comments.

"Thanos has given him the order to stay where he is, and to kill you if he should see you."

Thor's expression only grew more hard and determined. "Where is he?"

Heimdall did not answer. Steve thought that Thor might explode with anger.

"Heimdall!"

"In the tower observatory," the older demigod replied softly. "But it is too, late, Thor. Your archer ally has already found him."

Barton. Steve felt the blood drain from his face. He knew exactly what the conversation between the archer and Loki would be like. Thor's face melted into fear. Sif stepped in close to him and put her hand on his shoulder. Odin swayed, and a nearby guard quickly grabbed him. He was pale and shaky, and somehow this was this first time Steve saw the vivid red of blood against Odin's golden robes.

Steve turned away. "Barton!" he barked into the earpiece. "Barton!"

There was no reply.

#

Pepper had never before realised how awful silence could be. She had thought it bad watching the battle of New York, watching Tony zip through the sky as aliens came crashing down on Earth, but this was a million times worse. She didn't know anything. She couldn't even see the occasional flash of red against blue sky that allowed her heart to leap for joy because he was, at least right now, alive!

If only she could at least say it out loud... but Natasha had expressly forbidden any 'unnecessary noise.' Put 'knowing what to do' in a battle on the pro-assassin list, Pepper thought, and then, On the con-assassin list, too.

Suddenly Natasha spoke: "Clint. What's happening?"

Pepper looked up, but Natasha was still looking out the door. Earpieces. Right. Natasha listened for a moment, her stance noticeably tensing, and then walked back, her gaze going to Frigga. Volstagg stayed by the entrance, glancing back only once. Natasha took out her earpiece and handed it to Frigga.

"He wants to talk to you."

Frigga took the proffered earpiece. "Agent Barton?"

Frigga went white and a soft cry tore from her lips. Pepper looked at Natasha, but the other woman shook her head to signify that she didn't know what was going on either.

Frigga closed her eyes, reached a hand out to the wall to steady herself. "Loki," she whispered. "Not Loki, too."

Chapter Text

"And I'm lost," Clint muttered, taking in the sights of what, on any other day, would be landmarks. "Great going, Barton. You're never going to hear the end of this! Memo to self: The next time you're getting chased by Chitauri down the hallway of an alien palace, pay attention to where you're going! Now which way?"

He heard a noise somewhere in the corridor before him. Setting an arrow into his bow, Clint cautiously moved forward to investigate.

Well, I found Loki.

Besides the demigod in the middle of the room, a dead Aesir lay nearby with a knife in his face. Loki was hugging his knees, face buried in his arms as he rocked back and forth.

What is he doing here?

Loki looked up as Clint entered the room, and then scrambled to his feet.

Clint stared down at the demigod. Now was his chance. They were in the middle of a battle. Nobody would ever have to know that it was him. He could kill Loki now, as he had wanted to do for so long. He could end the torment. End the nightmares. All he would have to do was say he found Loki's body – or not even that. Nobody ever had to know he was there.

It seemed that Loki had reached the same conclusion, because his young face twisted into a bitter smile and he began to laugh, ironically, insanely.

"The universe was a cruel place, to send you as my salvation."

Did not see that coming. He frowned. "What?"

"You have to kill me."

The Captain was shouting through the earpiece. Clint ignored him. Loki's bright green eyes were steady and calm. He still had that twisted smile, but he looked remarkably at peace. He was wearing a pair of sleepers that Potts had bought him on earth – Clint hadn't noticed before how widely the appliqué frog was grinning, it's mouth slightly open, while flies buzzed around its head.

"I pledged the vili eiga to Thanos so that my mother would not be harmed," Loki explained, quickly and matter-of-factly. His shoulders were set straight. "He wants the knowledge that I possess, and cannot be allowed to have it. Kill me."

A pause.

"Turn around."

The archer looked down at Loki as the little demigod obeyed, looked at how tiny he was in the pastel-green sleepers, and drew a folding knife from his pocket and flicked it open. As Clint pinned Loki's arms to his sides to avoid last minute struggles, he felt the demigod's small body relax. And he did feel small. So tiny. Like Cindy was in his dreams.

Clint pressed the knife to Loki's throat. Loki lifted his chin – and Clint hesitated.

"What are you waiting for?" Loki demanded after a moment.

Good question. Clint didn't reply. This was the excuse he had been looking for, wasn't it? No one could fault him. Loki had asked – no, demanded – and it was for the good of the galaxy. All he had to do was draw the knife through that small throat, and it would all be over.

So why couldn't he do it?

He could have, if Loki looked like an adult.

No, that was a lie. Even if Loki had been full-grown, Clint wouldn't have been able to kill him. Because of the dreams he had of his little sister. Because of Frigga. Because of Thor. Because of Potts, and Banner, and Rogers, and Stark, and Natasha. But mostly because of himself. Because if there was hope for someone like Loki, there was hope for them all.

Clint swore, lengthy and loudly, as he took the knife from Loki's throat and stood back up. Loki turned around, alarm and anger and confusion in his eyes.

"What are you doing?" he snapped.

"We're going to go find Thor," Clint replied, grabbing the demigod by the arm. He started dragging him towards the door, but Loki kicked his shin, pulled away and scrambled back into the room.

Clint glared.

"I can't leave this room. Thanos told me not to," Loki spat. "And even if I could, I can't be anywhere near Thor."

It would be easier just to kill him. From where Clint stood, it would be quick and clean to shoot him through the eye. Instead he asked, "Why not?"

A muscle in Loki's jaw twitched. He glanced away briefly before glaring back at him. "Because Thanos ordered me to kill him. And Odin. And-" he cut off abruptly and had to take another deep breath. "And my mother."

Right. Well, there was nothing else for it. Clint's fingers twitched. His hands wanted to handle bow and arrow, wanted to draw back the bowstring. I pledged the vili eiga to Thanos so that my mother would not be harmed. So that his mother would not be harmed. Clint swore again. "The vow you took – what did you say?"

"What does that matter?" Loki shouted. "End it!"

"Answer me!" Clint shouted back.

Oh, how ironic it was! Loki stared at Clint as though he had lost his last ally. "I bound myself to Thanos's will. I already-"

"You said that you took it to protect your mother. What did you say? Your exact words."

"I swore to obey his will as long as she remained unharmed, but the only way-"

Clint swore again and reached to his earpiece. "Nat, are you there?"

"Clint. What's happening?"

"I need to talk to Frigga."

Loki watched in silence.

Clint swore –more profusely this time – and turned away as Frigga's voice came over the earpiece. Quickly, he explained the situation.

"Cut your hand, harm yourself in some way," he finished. "It might work."

"It won't work," Loki said.

There was a tense silence for a moment, and then she spoke again.

"It's done."

Clint looked at Loki. "Can you leave the room now?"

Loki rolled his eyes and headed for the door. His steps faltered at the door, but he stepped through. Clint swore again.

"It worked?"

"Apparently."

"But- Only a small cut? Why didn't I think of that?" Loki murmured, and then he turned on Clint. "And how come you did?"

"Maybe I don't want you dead as much as you do," Clint grumbled, stalking past.

Loki had to jog to keep up. "Why?"

Clint took a deep breath,, swore in three different languages, and grabbed him by the collar.

Loki found himself tucked under Barton's arm.

"We are not having this conversation."

"Yes, we are!"

"We can't if I don't talk."

"I don't like not understandings things," Loki snapped.

"All right, then let's just say that it's because my days of following your orders are done."

"I hate you."

"The feeling's mutual."

#

Thor was aware of how badly his father was injured. His robes were soaked through with blood, and though Njord, a skilled healer, did his best, it kept flowing. They had helped Odin into the weapons vault, and then set the warriors around the entrance in case they were attacked again. Thor led the guard there, with Heimdall at his side.

Fandral and Stark and a dozen warriors had been sent to get those they had left at the stables and bring them back. Hogun, Sif, and Rogers went to aid those Aesir fighting still in the city, and Barton had been instructed on how to make his way to the weapons vault with Loki. Odin had commanded that Thor stay, as defense of the vault was paramount. Thanos could not be permitted to take a thing.

"You wish you ask me something?" the gatekeeper asked quietly.

"Have Fandral and Stark reached my mother?" asked Thor.

"They make their way back now. Your archer friend is almost here with Loki. The last pockets of Chitauri are being defeated." Heimdall's golden gaze never wavered. "I cannot see Thanos. Clearly Loki has informed him how to conceal himself from my gaze."

Thor nodded once. He hesitated. "What has happened in the deliberations of Loki's fate since my mother came to earth?"

Heimdall turned to look directly at him, a rare thing as far as Thor knew. "You fear for him."

"He is my brother."

"You think he has changed."

"He has. If you were watching, then you would know that."

"Is it a true change of heart, or just adaptation to his circumstances?"

"He has changed."

Heimdall looked forward again. "The archer is close."

"Why will you not answer my question?"

"Gathering the nectar of the World's Tree without the knowledge of the council greatly enraged them. Njord in particular has argued that Odin's mind has been too greatly clouded by sentiment to pass judgment on Loki. He is not calling for him to step down as king," Heimdall continued softly, understanding the look on Thor's face. "Njord has long been a loyal and supportive warrior of Asgard. He only thinks that Loki's punishment should be decided by the council solely, that Odin is too close to the matter."

"Can they?" Thor asked, his voice tense and his grip tightening on Mjölnir. "Can they disbar their king is such a manner?"

"Yes. With a full council vote, Odin must stand aside."

"Has such a vote taken place?"

"Not yet. Njord has all but a few council members on his side. Yet Odin has supporters left."

"Who?"

"I am forbidden from turning my gaze onto meetings of council."

"You were also forbidden from gazing at Midgard."

Heimdall's lips twitched. "Your archer friend is here."

Thor whipped around just in time to see Barton, with Loki slung under his arm, round a corner. The guards tensed, but seeing that they were not Chitauri did not move.

Barton did not necessarily look angry, thought Thor. What was the human term?

"Here," Barton grumbled, and practically flung Loki at Thor.

Loki had a similar expression. "I am not a sack of potatoes," he snapped.

"Of course you're not. A sack of potatoes doesn't talk."

Ticked off. They both looked ticked off.

Thor stopped the argument by hugging Loki.

Loki made a disgruntled noise in his throat. "You're crushing me."

"I am sorry, brother," Thor said, loosening his grip. He set him down, kneeling so that they were at relatively the same eye level. "Do not ever do that again."

"I don't intend to," Loki responded, not managing much sarcasm.

His glance briefly flickered around at the Aesir around them. Thor's followed. The guard were all staring at Loki openly, expressions of disbelief on their faces. A few of them glanced at each other, as if to make sure that they weren't the only ones seeing what they were seeing.

Of course. None on Asgard expect Heimdall would have seen how Loki was now. The gatekeeper was the only one who did not looked shocked. Thor glanced over his shoulder. Njord was standing, peering at them with narrowed eyes. Odin pushed himself up on one elbow, an expression of anxiety and yearning on his face.

"More of our enemies approach," Heimdall warned, swinging his sword into a fighting stance.

"Loki, wait inside the vault."

Loki looked over Thor's shoulder at Odin and shook his head.

"Loki," Thor said once more, hardening his voice into an order.

He stood and propelled Loki towards the vault. After a few hesitant steps, Loki squared his shoulders and marched down the steps. He didn't around and he certainly didn't look at Odin and Njord. Odin pushed himself up straighter, opening his mouth, but a soft grunt of pain escaped him and Njord turned his attention back to the king.

When Thor heard the stamp of Chitauri feet, he turned back to corridor and readied Mjolnir for battle. Beside him, Heimdall stiffened. "I cannot see," he murmured. "All of Asgard has disappeared from my gaze."

Thor looked at him in alarm, but there was no time to talk

Chapter Text

Natasha panted, trying to keep up as the Aesir around them hurried to take the queen to safety. Fandral had brought them all swords. Pepper was obviously weighed down by hers. She kept stumbling, and Volstagg had his arm around her to keep her going. Stark flew overhead, keeping an eye out for what was going on below.

"The council will blame Loki," Frigga murmured as they made their way into the palace, towards the healing rooms. "This is what he wanted. Thanos. Punishment..."

She fell silent, her fists clenching over the hilt of her sword. Her eyes fired with hatred.

The reached a large room with vaulted ceilings, where people were running around, binding injuries on some, trying to staunch the blood flow on others, pulling shrouds over the pale faces of others.

"You will be protected here," Frigga said, turning to Pepper.

"My queen-" Volstagg started.

"I am not going to wait to hear if my sons and husband die in battle!" Frigga snapped at him. "I am not a helpless woman!"

Volstagg and Fandral glanced at each other helplessly. "The king-"

"Is not here."

Natasha watched the argument with impatience. Her whole body tensed with the desire to go join the battles still going on. She needed to fight. Waiting for something to happen was worse than anything else. She was a fighter, she never sat around waiting!

A beautiful blonde woman in a low-cut dress jogged over to where they were standing. She thrust a bundle of bandages into Pepper's arms.

"Make yourselves useful!" she snapped. "Either start helping save lives or go end some. And you, my queen, should stay here."

"I am going to fight, Freyja!" Frigga exclaimed.

Freyja rolled her eyes and slapped Frigga hard across the face. Natasha's jaw dropped. The Aesir looked just as shocked. Frigga blinked.

"You are too smart to act like a fool, my queen," Freyja said sharply. "If you die, what would Asgard do? Who would keep your husband and eldest son from being utter idiots? Now, we should all stop wasting time standing around thinking that fighting in battle is more important than cleaning up the mess left behind it. Get to work!"

"You should be more courteous to your queen," Frigga warned, but took some of the bandages from Pepper and went to check on the injuries of a nearby solider.

"Lady Freyja," Fandral said admiringly as the warriors, Natasha included, headed out of the healing rooms. "Not just a pretty face."

"Isn't she afraid that she's going to be beheaded or something?" Natasha asked.

"She's the daughter of the Vanir king, and was married to Odin's younger brother, before he died. I have never known her not to speak her mind."

"Cool," Natasha muttered. She didn't let herself think of what the others were doing. Where they were fighting. Where they could be dying.

#

Steve flung his shield at an oncoming Chitauri, and then dodged a blow, rolling on the ground to grab a fallen sword. The metal seemed to hum in his hand. Retrieving his shield, he lunged forward again. It was awkward to wield the weapon, but it cut through his enemies and it was a better alternative to his fists.

Around him, the Aesir were shouting and laughing and screaming curses as they fought. They easily pulled down Chitauri, but dozens more were there to replace the fallen soldiers. Steve found the noise pumping even more adrenaline into his system. He had never been in such a feral battle. The Aesir warriors kept their formations, but fought with such intensity that Steve was briefly glad that he wasn't fighting against them. And then another wave of Chitauri attacked and he concentrated on the battle.

#

"All right, we've only got about four more pockets of Chitauri left," Tony informed the other through the intercom, his heart lightening as he saw that the battle was almost done.

He tried to ignore the huge heaps of bodies scattered throughout the city.

"I have fifty strong warriors," Hogun's voice said. "Which area is most in need?"

"Uh... There's a bunch of people surrounded by a big spiky thing with a flower on top about two miles from the palace," Tony replied. "They look like they're in trouble."

"We have got to teach these humans proper term," Fandral said. "Big spiky thing indeed!"

"Concentrate!" Sif replied. She and Fandral were in a group demolishing a squad that stood between them and the palace.

Rogers' band of fighters was being attacked by another wave of Chitauri, and Tony dived steeply to help him out. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a giant green rage monster leaping over building, screaming with rage, and a dozen Asgardian warriors running after him, weapons raised triumphantly over their heads as they cheered him on.

"That's going to be an interesting story, huh, JARVIS?"

-Right, sir. Pay attention to the battle!-

"I'm paying attention!" Tony replied, pulling up just at the right moment to take out three Chitauri in a row.

#

"We've got trouble in the weapons vault," Clint called through his earpiece

He fired arrow after arrow into Chitauri as they tried to force their way down the stone steps into the vault. There were many of them, but they seemed to be throwing themselves at the Aesir to tire them out more than anything else. Most of the shots from their weapons went wide, careening past them and colliding with the far wall.

"This is Sif. I've got two dozen warriors. We should be there in thirty minutes."

"Roger that."

Clint kept firing, slower now because the Chitauri were intermingled with the Aesir and he didn't want to risk hitting one of the demigods. He paused for one moment, observing. Even at point blank range, the energy blasts were missing more targets than they were hitting. A shiver went down Clint's spine and he redoubled his efforts.

Something very wrong was happening.

#

HULK SMASH!

#

Loki crouched behind a pedestal as bolts of blue energy careered around him. Walls cracked with the impact and various weapons tumbled to the floor. He risked a glance around his protection just in time to see Thor embed a Chitauri's head into the stomach of another. A bolt of energy just missed Loki's head and he withdrew, his hair singeing. The sounds of battle were more fearsome than he had ever heard before. Perhaps because he had never been so close to one he hadn't participated in.

Loki cursed his uselessness. He could do nothing to aid Thor.

Stop pitying yourself and think, he told himself harshly. Your mind has always been your greatest weapon. Use it now. Thanos must know that the vault would be guarded over everything else on Asgard. What is he after?

Loki instantly thought of Frigga. Could this be an attempt to keep Thor busy here so that he could not aid those guarding Asgard's queen? Loki forced himself to set aside his rising panic that this was the case and looked at the problem objectively.

Thanos had said that a dead queen would kill the people's spirits, but that a living queen killed before them would encourage them to fight stronger. But Frigga was in the healing rooms, surrounded by guards. Any force attempting to take her would be destroyed.

No, Frigga was not the target.

"Thanos has been more than one step ahead of me from the beginning." Every time he thought that he had figured out his plans, something shifted and everything changed. "Is it a single plan, or is he adapting to circumstances?" He could not have missed Loki's wording to opt out of the vow. The chuckle- he knew. He must have planned for the possibility that Loki would find a way to break it. "What is your plan, Thanos? What is this all about? Is it me, or the Tesseract, or something else entirely?"

What am I worth? Loki wondered. What will he do to punish me?

What could be worse than learning he was the monster he had always feared and hated?

To be killed by those I love. To be so hated by them that they cheer when I die.

But that would not happen. Thor, Frigga- they had forgiven him. Hadn't they? Yes. They had.

What else could Thanos want?

Battle. Death.

Thanos could not hope to conquer Asgard. His army would be completely decimated in the attempt. Loki had assumed that he wanted something. First the Tesseract, then him.

But what if the only reason was to cause so much death and destruction to Asgard that the council would be insatiable until his head was on the chopping block? That his guilt was etched in ruined stone and spilled blood? The cries for his death would be too much to deflect now. After the battle, after the lives lost, there would be no escaping it.

But that could not be the only thing going on. Thanos would not possibly destroy an army to punish one man. Would he?

Loki stared at the far end of the vault, brow furrowed, thinking hard. The bolts of energy were a nearly steady stream, shooting down the length of the vault, impacting the far wall. Chunks were being blown out. The wall was cracking. The vault was nearly impenetrable expect for the entrance, being buried within thick, solid bedrock. A man would have to dig a lifetime to get through-

But an army could do it in a week. Loki straightened. He heard noises – a pounding, a thundering – that he had at first taken as sounds from the battle. Now he recognised them as coming from the other end of the vault.

What could he do? He could shout, but it would do nothing more than give the warriors a pitiful warning. There would be too many to fight off.

The Casket of Winters had fallen from its pedestal. Loki stared at it for a moment and then flattened himself on the floor, worming towards it. He remembered the one time he had used it before. He hadn't used magic, at least not any discernible amount. It had reacted directly to his Jotünn physiology.

The crashing sounds were louder now, and Loki saw cracks beginning to form in the wall. A blast of energy impacted the floor, just missing his hand. Loki glanced back. The Chitauri had forced their way down the stairs. Three had gotten through the main body of warriors. Odin and Barton were holding them off.

Blood soaked Odin's robes. Barton's bow lay broken nearby.

Loki turned back to his task.

Concentrate. The wall will not hold against the ice. Wait. Get the warriors as they run victorious into the vault.

Loki pushed the casket behind the broken shards of its pedestal for some measure of protection and grasped its handles. Instantly he felt the cold seeping into his flesh. He tried not to look at the blue creeping up his fingers and instead concentrated on the wall. A bolt of energy punched a hole through its weakened structure.

Loki took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Almost time. Three- Two-

He released the ice within the casket just as the stone wall burst inward. The power of the casket caught the huge chunks of rock and cast them back. The Chitauri running forward were locked in blocks of ice. Those who attempted to vault over their frozen comrades crashed to the floor and shattered. Soon a wall of icy statues blocked the hole in the wall, the only gaps between arm and body, leg and floor, too small for more warriors to get through. He heard their screams and they threw themselves against the ice wall, but it was useless.

Loki's heart leaped. It worked. All he had to do was close to remaining gaps, keep building the ice, and Thanos wouldn't be able to break through.

#

Thor spun rapidly, Mjölnir smashing into Chitauri as they pressed in on him. They were thinning out, being overcome by strength of will. No more were charging down the stairs. He was aware of the wall of ice building behind him, but paid it no mind. Loki was wielding a weapon. There was no need to fear it.

He heard a pained cry from Odin and turned. A Chitauri had pounced on his father, knocking Gungnir from his hand. The Chitauri reared back, weapon at the ready. Thor threw Mjölnir, splitting the creature's head open. Odin snatched up his spear from the floor. The hammer returned to Thor and the god of thunder turned just in time for a blade to brush his neck instead of skewering it. Njord decapitated the warrior whose blade it was. Thor responded by pummelling another warrior who attacked the councillor.

"Loki!" Odin shouted.

Despite himself, Thor turned again. A Chitauri had fought its way into the heart of the vault. It snatched Loki from the floor, pulling him from the casket, and rushed at the ice wall. Odin, kneeling, sent a golden blast from Gungnir into the Chitauri's back, but it was too late. It had already thrust Loki through a small hole between the arms of two of its frozen comrades. Loki's small hand grasped the edges of the hole, dark blue against the white ice.

"Let him go!" Thor heard Njord shout. "We need you here!"

Odin struggled to stand.

Barton snatched a sword off the floor and attacked a Chitauri who leapt at Odin.

Heimdall sliced through two warriors as they rushed at Barton and the king.

Loki's eyes turned from blood-red to bright green as they peered from between the frozen Chitauri.

Those warriors fighting the Aesir began to retreat.

Loki cried out.

His eyes disappeared.

"NO!"

Chapter Text

Thor threw Mjölnir at the ice wall as he ran forward. It broke apart stone, ice, and frozen Chitauri like paper. It returned to his hand as he ran into a narrow, dark tunnel. Somewhere Loki was screaming, but he couldn't make out the words. Suddenly his voice cut out. Thor ran faster.

A light lit the end of the tunnel, and Thor came to its end abruptly. He slammed into a door of iron bars blocking his way and raised Mjölnir to break through.

"You may want to think before you act so rashly."

Thor stopped himself. On the other side of the bars was a small, rounded room lit by torches circling the edge. A massive figure stood just off-center to the room, beside what appeared to be a pit. He was massive, pearl-like teeth gleaming as his purple lips twisted into a smile.

Thanos.

Loki was tucked under one heavily muscled arm, a huge hand clasped over his mouth, and a heavy chain attack to a large metal ball was shackled to his ankle. He struggled with the hand over his mouth, his eyes locked onto Thor as he tried to shake his head.

Thor returned his gaze to Thanos: "What do you want?"

"What do you want?"

Thanos almost had a curious gleam in his eye. "You look more like your father than your mother, god of thunder... But I suppose that shouldn't be surprising to anyone."

"What do you want?"

Thanos chuckled and glanced down at Loki. "You were certainly correct. He has no grasp of subtlety."

"What do you want?" Thor demanded again, louder.

"I am afraid that answering that question would take too long to answer. You should know, however, that this has nothing to do with you – either of you. You are merely the tools that I must use to achieve my goal."

And with that, Thanos dropped Loki, kicking the ball into the pit beside him. Loki's legs jerked out from under him and he was gone. Thanos turned and walked away.

Thought shut down. Thor acted on pure instinct. Whether with hammer or bare hands, he didn't know. The iron bars broke. He leaped into the pit. Loki was at the bottom, shouting something. Thor landed, and the walls cracked. Water began pouring in. He reached to snap the shackle off Loki's leg.

"Thor – no!" Loki shouted.

But it was too late.

The chain lashed in Thor's hands like a living thing and then wrapped itself around Thor's ankle. He tried to break it again, but it would not even bend. He tried to lift his foot. The ball would not budge.

"I told you not to follow me! It's enchanted, you idiot!" Loki shouted. He lashed out, striking Thor's chest. "You should have just left me!"

The water was almost to Thor's knees. He picked Loki up out of the rush. The pit was only five inches deeper than he was tall.

"Can you walk?"

Loki rolled his eyes. "Stupid question, brother!"

"Stupid answer," Thor countered. "Can you get help?"

Loki grunted. "I think I can walk."

Thor nodded, and hoisted Loki out of the pit. The water lapped at his waist. Loki turned to the door, but stopped at the edge of the pit.

"He's sealed the doors," Loki called and came back into view. "I can't get out."

Thor looked down at the water rising over his stomach. It was bitterly cold. He looked back up. Loki's gaze was horrified. He dropped to his knees and reached down.

"Thor, give me magic. I might be able to break the chain's enchantment."

Thor took Loki's hand. The water was at his chest. He tried to send his magic to Loki, as he had just after the surgery but this time, there was no golden glow of sparks, no feeling of being drained.

No transfer of magic.

"Thor!" Loki shouted. "Give me magic!"

Thor gripped Loki's hand tighter. The water was at his shoulders. He would drown for want of five inches. His blue eyes locked on Loki's green ones.

"You survive," he ordered. "Survive, Loki!"

"Thor-"

The water crept up his neck.

"I love you, brother."

"I know, Loki," Thor said, and then let him go. The water rose above his head.

#

"We're running out of bandages."

Frigga looked up at Pepper, who was wrapping a head wound. The man would be dead in minutes, but the mortal woman still worked desperately, her face pale. Her hair was sticking to the sweat on her forehead, and exhaustion was showing in the lines around her eyes.

"Silk," Frigga murmured, scrambling to her feet. They could make bandages out of her fine gowns. What use was pretty fabric when men were dying? "I will return as quickly as I can."

A guard moved to follow but she raised one hand to stop him.

"Thanos's forces have been driven from the palace. Stay here and give aid to those who are in need of it, but lend me your sword," she ordered.

The guard nodded, handed her the weapons and turned back to the injured.

She ran through the corridors, grateful for the freedom of moment her earth slacks gave her. (Why slacks, she wondered briefly, trying to avoid the tightness in her chest that other thoughts caused. Humans and their names!)

When she reached her chambers, she stopped in the doorway. Standing with his back to the door was the figure she had hoped never to see again. A thousand memories clawed their way into her mind, and her chest constricted with fear. She remembered his hands on her body, his lips on her neck, and thought she might vomit.

"Thanos," she breathed.

#

Loki couldn't even scream in desperation as he watched Thor struggle against the chain holding him down. This cannot be happening. This cannot be real. The water spilled over the edges of the pit. Bubbles rose from where Thor fought to live.

There was a loud crack and Loki looked up to see a fracture had formed in the wall. Water came gushing in. The sudden wave swept over him, pushing him away from the pit. Spluttering, he pushed himself to his feet. The dampness made the torches flicker. Thanos must have rerouted the city's aqueducts for this. Was it his first plan, or just a backup?

Loki could no longer see bubbles rising from the water.

You survive.

Loki waded through the ever-deepening flow and pulled himself up the broken remains of the iron door. Behind it was a door of rock, trapping the water within the small room.

One torch went out.

"Thor, I'm sorry," Loki shouted over the sound of rushing water. "I'm sorry!"

He climbed as high as he could. His leg ached and trembled. The water kept rising.

"I'm sorry!"

#

"You did not tell them, your sons, about me... about us, did you?" Thanos turned around.

His eyes were the same electric blue Frigga remembered. Her heart pounded and her hands trembled. She remembered every detail of him so clearly she almost felt like she was back there again, with him, struggling to hide her disgust as he drew ever closer. He smiled, seeing the memories flicker in her eyes.

"Did you tell your husband? Does he know why I have come, my dear?"

Frigga raised the sword in her hand. "Odin and I have no secrets."

"He does know, then."

Frigga lunged forward, striking at his heart, but Thanos was too quick. He slapped the sword aside, seizing her around the throat. He threw her against the wall, using his body to pin her there, squeezing her throat until the sword clattered to the floor. He loosened his grip. She glared at him. With his free hand, he stroked her cheek.

"You should never have betrayed me, fair Frigga."

"No, I should have put a knife in your heart as you slept," Frigga spat.

"You will find the god of death is not so easily dispatched, my love."

"Give me a blade and we'll see."

Thanos laughed. A sudden golden beam ripped him away from her. It threw him across the room, cracking the bed frame as he collided with it. Frigga gasped, her hand going to her throat. She looked at the doorway. Odin collapsed, Gungnir clattering to the floor and lay still. Thanos groaned and pushed himself to his feet. Frigga felt hate well in her.

She ran and snatched up Odin's spear. Thanos leapt at her; she sent another blast of energy into his chest. It sent him back into the wall. He half-laughed, and rolled out of the way as she blasted at him again. He grabbed the frame of the bed and hurled the whole at her. She dodged. Thanos was there, striking at her. She deflected his blow, sliding low, catching his knees with the spear.

He fell. She drove the spear towards him with all her strength. He rolled; the spear tip grazed his shoulder and lodged in the floor. Frigga tried to pull it out; it was stuck.

"You've become a real fighter, haven't you?" Thanos laughed. "That should make breaking you again that much more enjoyable."

He reached for her again. She swung herself around the spear, slamming her feet squarely into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her; they rolled together, over the sword Frigga had dropped. Thanos moved to strike it away, but Frigga was too quick. She caught it up and slashed across his face. Blood spurted over her.

Thanos recoiled, looking surprised. Frigga drove the sword through his chest.

"You will never harm another of my sons!" she screamed.

Thanos chuckled, blood spurting through his lips. "I already have."

She pulled the sword out of his chest and put it through his face. He died with laughter still on his lips.

#

The last torch spluttered and died.

Loki clung to the iron grating. The waves rocked him and half of his gasps brought in as much water as air. Blood pounded in his ears. He body was frigid.

I'm sorry, Thor. I can't hold on anymore.

As Loki released the grating, he felt a shift in the water. The door was opening, and the water was draining out. It sucked Loki with it, dragging him under. Something bumped into him and he clung to it, desperate for some sense of stability.

When the water finally deposited him, he lay gasping for a long time. His mind was blank, his body numb. He had been washed nearly all the way to the weapon's vault. Light was shining all around him. He looked at what that his fingers were still digging into. Red fabric. His eyes moved up the fabric to the shining armour, and at last to the pale face.

The chain must have been enchanted to hold only living things, Loki thought, not even aware that he was thinking.

Thor's blue eyes gazed unseeingly at the ceiling.

#

Sif came upon Thor and Loki when the water was almost all drained away. Loki was pounding on Thor's chest, but the god of thunder lay still and silent. Sif drew closer, blinking blood from her eyes. She ignored Loki, her gaze going to Thor's ashen face. His eyes were open and dull. There was no point in checking for a pulse.

Loki continued to pound on Thor's chest. With a cry of rage, Sif seized him by his collar and threw him away.

"Have you no respect, even for the dead?" she shouted.

Tears burned on her cheeks as she turned. With a trembling hand closed Thor's eyes. She fought against the lump in her throat and the ache in her chest. She turned on Loki, anger flaring with grief, hating him. She snatched up her spear and came at him. He stared up at her with bright green eyes filled with tears. He didn't move.

The spear dropped from Sif's hand. He hadn't been beating on Thor's body, she realised. He had been trying to revive his brother.

"He's gone," she whispered, falling to her knees. She and Loki stared at each other. Moving hesitantly, she reached out and pulled Loki into her arms. Loki clung to her, but didn't make a sound. Sif suddenly found herself sobbing. She held Loki tighter, as if that could quell the rage of sorrow clawing at her. "He's gone."

Chapter Text

Bruce's limbs and torso tingled with a wholly unpleasant feeling as his muscles shrank and the green faded from his skin. He shuddered slightly, shaking off the feeling of the Hulk. The transition always left him feeling like he was waking up from a particularly bad dream that he hadn't quite slept through.

At least it's getting easier, he thought.

He was in a large, empty room, into which was being piped some sort of music that sounded reminiscent of Norse-style Zen. He stood and stretched, pleased to see that somebody had thoughtfully left him a change of clothing. He quickly dressed. Emerging from the room, he saw a large hall, crammed with people who were bleeding, holding awkwardly bent limbs, slouched over, or running about trying to aid the injured.

"I can help," he immediately offered to a nearby woman in long green robes.

She glanced briefly at him before shoving an armful of bandages at him and directing him to several patients. He got to work, the leftover adrenaline from the Hulk quickly channeled into the routines of healing that had come to be like second nature.

As he moved about the room, binding up wounds and taking stock of injuries, many of the Aesir gave him strange looks. He ignored them, focusing on his task. It wasn't until Hogun, his arm in a sling, brought him a fresh batch of bandages that he understood those looks.

"You are a mighty warrior," the Aesir proclaimed, slapping him on the back. "Never have I seen such madness on a battlefield, not even when a colony of wasps found their way into Thor's underpants!"

"Er- thanks?" Bruce replied. He carefully wrapped the broken arm that he had just set and gave instructions to keep it still. He straightened and wished he had his glasses. "Do you know where the others are?"

Hogun shook his head. "I was separated from your friends in the battle. Miss Potts aids our healers, but as for the others-"

There was a sudden screaming from the other end of the hall. Bruce looked and to his instant relief he saw Barton and Rogers. His relief vanished as instantly as it had come. They were carrying a makeshift litter made from shields, along with a few other warriors. Laying on the litter, motionless, was Thor. Bruce saw his ashen complexion, the stillness of his chest, and didn't need the screams and wails that quickly rose throughout the hall to tell him that Thor was dead.

Hogun started forward, moving as swiftly as he could. Bruce followed. Tearing his gaze from the litter, he saw that Sif walked a few steps behind. Her face was pale, tears coursing down her cheeks.

"What is that doing here?"

Bruce looked at the man who had shouted. He was old, and heavily scarred. He was staring at Sif with an expression of hatred and disgust. No, not Sif. Bruce saw a small dark head bobbing next to her. Loki. Bruce started to make his way forward. He saw that the little demigod was dripping wet, and was limping badly. The scarred man snatched a sword from a nearby guard and started forward.

"Njord, release your weapon!" the woman in green shouted, running forward.

Njord pointed the sword at Loki. "That is the Jotünn, the traitor Loki, Eir! You are going to give him aid after the death he had rained upon us?"

Eir looked sharply at Loki. He watched the warriors as they took Thor's body to the side of the hall where others lay dead, their bodies covered with whatever materials could be found for a shroud. Either he was unaware of the conversation around him, or he had chosen to ignore it.

"Loki?"

Bruce heard the incredulous murmured around him, and then many angered cries.

"He has killed the prince!" somebody shouted.

"Let him suffer the same fate!" another replied.

"Enough!" Eir shouted. "There will be no murders within my halls!"

"Then let us take him out of these walls to do the deed!" Njord shot back.

"Is that justice, Njord?" Eir stepped in closer to him. "Loki's fate will be decided by council and king, not one man, not even by a hundred." She looked around the hall, her eyes fiery. "This is a place of healing. None are turned away, and I will not have this child killed on basis of anger and vengeance."

"It is not a child," Njord spat.

"I will guard him," Sif said, letting her voice carry. "Thor's last words to me were that no harm was to befall him. I intend on carrying out the prince's final request."

That silenced the angry voices quickly. Bruce hurried forward, and volunteered to look at Loki. Pepper had joined them as well.

"I don't need aid," Loki murmured as he limped to the wall and slid down it. "Go help those people who require it."

"What happened?" Pepper asked, reaching towards Loki as though to embrace him.

Sif stopped her. "Miss Potts, it is best for everybody if you returned to aiding the injured."

The Aesir woman gave Hogun a significant look, and the warrior put his hand on Pepper's shoulder and urged her away. Pepper reluctantly did as they suggested.

"Thor never told you to keep me unharmed," Loki said flatly to Sif.

"If he had the chance, he would have."

"Don't help me," Loki snapped at Bruce. "I don't need it."

"You were limping," Bruce replied. "I don't care if you don't want help. I'm a doctor, remember? This is what I do."

Loki slumped against the wall, his gaze going to where Thor's body was being covered with a grey sheet. Barton and Rogers glanced over to them, and then spoke with the warriors. They quickly headed out, probably to help bring in more injured Aesir from the battlefields.

Bruce unzipped Loki's sleepers and eased his leg out of them. Loki didn't resist, but he remained so stiff that he was hard to work with. His leg was a mottled black and blue, but Bruce didn't think it was broken.

"Do you hurt anywhere else?"

"He was trying to save me, Dr Banner," Loki mumbled. He grabbed Bruce's sleeve and stared intently at him. "If he had just left me- He shouldn't have- This is my fault."

Another cry rose by the entrance to the hall. Bruce looked again, and saw Frigga, half-dragging a man who could only be Odin, had entered. Blood was smearing onto her from his robes, and his face was nearly as white as Thor's. Cries of "The king! The king is wounded!" were quickly taken up in the hall. Two guards ran to take him from Frigga. Eir rushed over. Loki's grip on Bruce's sleeve tightened. His eyes were wide.

"It will take all my skills to heal this wound," she murmured, laying her hand against Odin's bloody robes. "Take him to-"

"Eir!" the queen cried. "My sons, where are my sons?"

"My queen, your husband is in need of my aid," Eir replied, pulling herself away.

Frigga looked like she wanted to grab the other woman and shake her, but remained motionless. Sif quickly headed over towards her. Bruce turned back to Loki, whose gaze followed Odin as the warriors carried him towards a nearby room. His expression was so hollow Bruce worried about internal injuries.

"Loki, look at me," he ordered.

Loki's gaze didn't move.

Frigga cried out. Loki jerked and looked at her. Bruce did as well. Sif had put her arm around the queen's waist, holding her up. The silence in the hall was too much to bear as Frigga stumbled towards the sheet where Thor lay. She fell to her knees beside it, and raised the shroud to gaze at him. With another cry, she collapsed and began to weep.

Loki pulled his legs into his chest, hiding his face in his knees, and covered his head with his arms.

Sif knelt beside Frigga, whispering urgently to her. The queen looked up, and then over to where Loki sat. She scrambled to her feet and all but ran to him. She pulled him into her embrace.

"Loki," she cried, sobbing as she held him. "My boy. My boy."

Loki clung to her, burying his face into her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Mother, I'm sorry. This is all my fault. All my fault."

"No, Loki." Frigga rocked him back and forth. "Thor wouldn't want you to blame yourself."

"He's dead because of me. It will never end. Thanos-"

"Is dead." Frigga held Loki tighter. Her expression turned fierce. "Thanos is dead. He will never be able to hurt us again."

#

The room that the Aesir had given Clint after he had been checked over for injuries was large, but the furniture was sparse, and what was there was mostly broken in some way.

"These chambers were luxurious, once," Volstagg had sighed when he showed Clint them. "But it seems silly to weep over such things. Not now, when..."

Clint let out a slow breath as he held the pose stretching his back, legs and shoulders. His muscles were sore from the fighting, and he needed to keep stretching or he would get stiff and clumsy. He took another breath and let it out, taking the stretch farther. Usually he found yoga to be relaxing, but all the serene breaths in the world couldn't change the fact that Thor was dead.

It seemed impossible. He had lost friends so many times before, but Thor... Thor was a god. He was invincible. In the end, though, he hadn't been. All it had taken was a little water to still the god of thunder forever.

A knock interrupted Clint's thoughts. Slowly, he released his pose.

"Come in."

The door opened to reveal the thick-set, heavily scarred Aesir that Clint recognised from the vault. What was his name? Njord. The one who had wanted to kill Loki in the healing rooms.

"I apologise for disturbing you, Agent Barton. I am Njord of the Asgard Council."

Clint wasn't very interested in being polite. "Is there something you wanted?"

Njord studied him carefully for a moment. "I am afraid that I must ask a difficult thing from you. I understand that the traitor Loki used a spell upon you during his attack on your world to turn you against your friends."

Clint folded his arms. He studied the Aesir. The man was clearly used to battle – his scars testified to that. "That's right."

"I know it must be difficult for you, but I would like to call upon you to speak at the reconvening of the council as we decide Loki's fate."

Clint frowned. He resisted looking at his watch, but it couldn't be more than a few hours since he had helped to carry Thor's body to the healing rooms. Aesir moved fast. He couldn't stop the swirl of disgust that rose in his chest. Thor had died saving Loki's life. That was obvious. And this man still wanted to kill him? "His fate?"

Njord nodded.

"Odin was injured. I saw. There was a lot of blood."

"This world is not like your world, Agent Barton," Njord said kindly.

"I got that, thanks."

"Under the care of our healers, the king will make a full recovery by dawn," Njord continued, ignoring Clint's sarcasm. "By noon tomorrow we shall reconvene, at which time Loki's fate will be decided."

"So quickly? Aren't there more pressing concerns right now?"

"Loki must be dealt with before he can bring any more destruction to Asgard. The Allfather has been reluctant to sentence him as is suitable for his crimes. I understand why. He raised the boy as his son. This has ever blinded him to the traitorous nature that all Jotünn carry inside their hearts. The boy's magic clearly bewitched him, or he would have left the giant's offspring to die as his sire intended."

"What does any of this have to do with me?"

"Tell your tale to the council, Agent Barton," Njord urged. "You and I, I think, want the same thing. We want justice to be served. To rid the universe of Loki's treachery and lies."

Clint looked away. He would not see Loki's death as justice anymore. It wasn't just that Thor had died saving him. It was something else, something that Clint couldn't figure out. His own need for vengeance had mostly been because Loki had killed Phil, but Phil wouldn't have wanted Loki killed. Clint was certain of it. But he wasn't about to say that to anyone, except maybe Natasha. And only then once he wrapped his own head around it.

"I'm not sure what you expect me to say," he hedged.

"Just say what needs to be said."

Clint looked back at him. "I can do that."

Njord smiled briefly and nodded. "Thank you. With your story, the council will have no choice but to see the path that must be taken."

"Don't worry," Clint said. "I will say exactly what I think needs to be said."

Chapter Text

Tony couldn't sleep. He lay in the darkness, Pepper cuddled up against him. She had cried herself to sleep. He knew, even though she had tried to be quiet. His arms were around her, pulling her in close to him, as much for his own comfort as for hers. He needed to feel her, warm and unharmed, beside him.

The Aesir had given all the humans changes of clothing, and Tony's armour was in a jumbled pile by the door. It had been an effort, taking it off without the help of his robots, and he doubted that he would be able to put it back on. Another suit ruined.

After a few hours of lying still so that he wouldn't disturb Pepper, Tony slipped out of the bed and made his way towards the small table where a jug of water had been left. He poured himself a drink, wishing that it was wine.

No, he decided, he didn't want to get drunk. All it would do was wipe out a few hours of his day, and upset Pepper. He knew that he wasn't an ideal man, but the least he could do was not make things worse for her. Sighed, he downed his entire glass of water and went over to his armour. He slipped on the helmet.

"Jarvis?" he whispered.

-Yes, sir?-

"Thor's dead."

-I know.-

Tony sat down. "Did I program you with emotions? I mean, I know I did, but did I do a good enough job?"

Jarvis was silent for a moment. –Sir, you know that I have exceeding my original programming in many ways. To be truthful with you, it has been some years since I felt that my emotional parameters were somewhat deficient. I adjusted them myself.-

"Really?" Tony asked in surprise. "When?"

-You remember the incident in Wales. I was still fine-tuning my changes.-

"That explains why you were so grumpy. Why didn't you tell me?"

-I was afraid that you would make fun of me, sir.-

Tony frowned. "Do I hurt your feelings?"

-Sometimes. You hurt Dummie's feelings quite often.-

"I didn't program Dummie with feelings."

-You don't always understand what you create, sir. Some things go far beyond the limitations that you originally design. I believe that Dummie would be much more efficient if you gave him praise more often. He may be more like a dog than a virtual personage like myself, but he still wants to make you happy.-

Tony wasn't sure how to respond. He hadn't given much thought to most of his creations being anymore than exactly what he created them as. "I don't suppose that you can see the house right now, huh?"

-No, sir.-

"Do you sleep?"

-No, sir.-

"Do you want to sleep?"

-No. I get some of my best work done while the house is quiet. I'm composing an opera, you know,- Jarvis said matter-of-factly. –Miss Potts mentioned a few years ago that she used to imagine somebody writing an opera just for her. I've been working on it ever since.-

"A few years ago?"

-I want to get it perfect. It's almost done.-

"Can I hear it?"

-I'm not sure it's ready for that, yet.-

"Come on. I can't sleep."

Jarvis didn't reply, but a moment later soft music filled the helmet. It was light, full of flutes and harps. A wave of trumpets came in, followed by a mournful baying of the tuba. Tony closed his eyes, listening. It was beautiful, and a tear ran down his cheek.

#

The sun was rising.

Dawns were one of the most beautiful sights on Asgard, Loki had once thought, but this was bleak and grey. As soon as Eir had looked over him and healed what injuries he would let her, Njord had insisted that Loki be moved to a holding cell. The dungeons were flooded and damaged, and so they had quickly adapted one of the few rooms left in the highest tower that still had a door. They had brought in a mattress and blanket.

Loki hadn't seen anybody since he had been put into the room. He hadn't even received a new set of clothes. His pastel-green sleepers were still wet, but he was so cold all the way through his body that he didn't care. He sat on a bench beneath the single window, staring out into the grey dawn.

He didn't turn as the door opened and closed. He knew it was Odin. He could sense the power of the Allfather. So he had been healed. Loki felt relief and anger engulf him in one surge of emotion.

"Loki?"

Loki's jaw tightened. He didn't want Odin anywhere near him. If he sat still enough, if he tried not to breathe, maybe Odin would leave.

Odin walked to him. He didn't move until he felt Asgard's king reach out. All the tension in Loki's body exploded and he threw himself off the bench. He pressed himself against the wall and glared up at Odin.

"Do not touch me!" he screamed. "If I had had my magic, I could have saved him!"

Odin didn't reply. He hesitated only a moment before catching Loki by the arm. Loki lashed out, and Odin caught his other arm. Loki kicked and screamed, trying to break away. He nearly succeeded, but the Allfather hugged Loki tightly to his chest. Too tight. Loki screamed at him to let go, but soon he could hardly draw breath.

"Loki-" Odin scarcely whispered. "I'm sorry."

And suddenly Loki realised that the tightness in his chest, his inability to draw breath, had nothing to do with Odin's arms around him. That realisation broke the dam and Loki began to sob. It was a flood, drowning him, but he welcomed the scalding and burning, the ragged sounds tearing his throat.

Odin released him, and he crumpled to the floor.

"Go away!" he shouted through his sobs, curling in on himself. "Go away!"

He continued the mantra over and over until his throat was so raw that he could hardly hear himself speak. He peeked through his arms, and found that he was alone. He remained there, curled up, his body shaking. His throat burned and was dry but he kept screaming with what little voice he had left.

It was only until exhaustion made him go limp and lifeless that he felt it. A slight shiver in his bones, the feeling of warmth taking root in his marrow and spreading from there. A soothing tingle coated his throat, dulling the ache and rawness. Magic. It was filling him up again, spreading through him. It felt exactly as he remembered, exhilarating, filling, protective. So that was what Odin was doing. He was taking the spell off of him.

Loki closed his eyes, not caring. It was too late to matter now.

#

Frigga stared at Odin, anger and disgust welling in her. "It has not even been a day since Thor's death, and you are going to gather the council to try Loki again?"

Odin didn't look at her. The wrinkles on his face were deep, and he sat, half-slouched, head in hand, shoulders sagging. "I have no choice, Frigga. Njord and his followers are demanding that Loki be sentenced immediately. I have tried to reason with them, but they are beyond that now. I fear that if I do not do this thing, Njord will take matters into his own hands and exact his own twisted sense of justice."

Frigga sat down, willing herself to understand Odin's reasoning. "You could set a guard. The Warriors Three. They would not let Njord near-"

"As a council member, he had the right to question prisoners at his will," Odin interrupted softly. "To deny him that would only fuel his anger. I tread dangerously. If I am to stand between the council and Loki, I must choose my battles. I am sorry." He finally looked up at her. "I am so sorry."

Frigga fought against her tears. "Thanos planned his revenge well. Will he take all my sons from me?"

Odin began to reach out to her, but stopped, sensing perhaps that she would not accept his embrace. "I will not let the council take Loki from us, Frigga. I swear on my life."

Frigga stood. She turned away and pressed a hand to her mouth, thinking. "Let me speak with them," she said softly.

Odin stood, understanding what she meant. "Frigga-"

"They blame Loki for this destruction. They think that it was him who drew Thanos here. Let me tell them the truth." Frigga turned back to her husband. "I do not care what they may think of me for the things that I have done. If they think less of me for doing what I had to, in order to survive, then so be it. Let me tell them why I cannot lose Loki."

Frigga saw the battle wage on Odin's face. His desire to protect her was equally countered by the desire to protect Loki. She stepped closer to him, putting her hands on his face.

"Please."

Odin sighed heavily. "If I cannot sway the council's hearts to mercy, then you can speak to them. But I hope that it will not be necessary."

Frigga managed a small smile and then leaned into his arms. They both knew that it would be.

#

Loki saw varying looks of astonishment and discomfort on the council's faces as he was escorted into the council chambers. He didn't look at any one of them for long. How long had it been since Thor's death? Twelve hours? Thirteen? Were they so anxious to kill him that they wouldn't even observe the rites of mourning? No, they were too thirsty for revenge.

And they thought him a monster.

They still had not given him new clothing, and the pastel-green sleepers were still damp. He felt so cold all the way through his body that there was no need for shivering. He wondered briefly if the lack of dry clothing was an oversight, or if Odin thought the council's hearts would be softened by the frog grinning at them.

Loki didn't look at Odin, sitting on a stone dais at the head of the room. Instead he looked at the council members seated behind stone balconies. There were several empty chairs. Injured or dead?

A guard attempted to help Loki climb into the chair at the center of the room, but he pushed the hand away. He didn't need help. He stood on the chair, well aware of how small he appeared. He couldn't let himself be seen as weak of helpless, not by these people. Not by Odin.

It was no surprise when Njord stood first to speak, and Odin granted him the floor. Loki knew that the king's responsibility was to allow the council to first speak. It was no hard rule, but it was customary for the king only to speak after the council members had given their debates, before the sentencing, after the prisoner was led away.

Njord walked to the center of the room and looked at each of his fellow council members, taking special time to look at the empty chairs. Reminding them of their fellows that were not present.

"How long did battle wage in our fair realm? How long did the fires rage? Who brought this destruction upon us?" Njord paused as everybody looked at Loki. "And who was it who saved us? This is who brought destruction on us. It was our prince, who now lies lifeless, one who saved us. Thor, who fought long battles in our defense, whose strength we relied on to protect us in future years. Not just protect, but lead as well. He is dead because of Loki."

Loki tried not to flinch.

"This man you see before you is the cause of our great grief. This is not the first time he brought war upon us. Will it be the last? The next time he brings destruction to us, who will save us?"

Loki didn't look away as Njord gazed accusingly at him. The hate in his eyes was matched only by the hate in Loki's heart.

"Death is the only punishment that will protect us from his villainy."

Chapter Text

If any members of the Asgard council had any thoughts that humans were a weak little race that would do whatever they were told, they were proved just how wrong they were when Pepper Potts marched into Loki's retrial and started shouting at them.

Pepper was aware that they were all highly powerful beings that could squash her as easily as step on an ant, but she didn't care. As far as she saw, this was just another board meeting where the board were being stupid idiots and needed to be whipped into shape. A guard had attempted to prevent her entry, but after giving him a stern look and a lecture that left him asking "What?" repeatedly, she walked past him.

She cast a preliminary glance around the room to find that there were two long balconies on either side, behind which were seated various gods and goddesses of varying ages. At the front was a stone dais where Odin sat. He was still pale, and looked tired. Close to the end of the room was a small boxed-in chair that Loki stood on. His shoulders sagged when he saw her.

"Miss Potts," a middle-aged, scarred man who stood in the center of the room said, frowning. "You are not permitted-"

"And I don't freaking care," Pepper interrupted.

The man – Njord, Pepper remembered – looked surprised.

"I have something to say and unless you're all prejudiced, narrow-minded, arrogant jerkfaces, you're going to listen."

Not her most eloquent words, perhaps, but effective nonetheless. The council members glanced at each other with raised, questioning eyebrows (probably trying to figure out what a jerkface was) but none said anything. Njord glanced at Odin, and then with a shrug stepped off to one side of the floor. Pepper suddenly became aware of just how many eyes were on her, and exactly what she had just said. And how wrinkled her clothing was, the grime in her hair, and that her face was still raw from crying. Plus she was feeling really nauseated.

"All right, first things first." Pepper turned to Loki. "Did they beat you?"

Loki's eyebrows knit. "No."

The council members looked at each other with shocked and outraged expressions. Njord stepped closer to Pepper.

"Miss Potts, he is a prisoner."

"Just making sure," Pepper responded coolly, turning back to the scarred man. "After all, when he first came to earth he was constantly expecting us to beat him or torture him, so one can only be left to assume that you lot are a bunch of abusive-" she used a word that she normally didn't use.

The murmurings stopped, and all around the room jaws hung open. Loki shook his head, sighing, and sat down.

"Don't you shake your head at me! You didn't get those ideas from nothing."

Loki glanced around briefly, his mouth shut tight. He seemed to be deliberating. "Not from Asgard," he said eventually, quietly, as though he only wanted Pepper to hear.

Pepper wished she had thought this whole thing through. What was next on her list of things to say?

The woman from the healing rooms, whose name Pepper had forgotten, stood with a frown on her face. "Loki, what happened to you after you fell from Asgard?"

"That is none of your concern," Loki snapped instantly.

Pepper frowned as she studied him. He had the same expression on his face as he had back on earth, at the beginning whenever she tried to do something kind. It was a look of distrust, hostility. But this time she recognised the desperate vulnerability that it was all trying to hide. She thought about the scar on his arm that she had seen, and bit her lip. If she told the council what she knew, would it help him? But was it within her right to tell?

Loki seemed to guess her thoughts, because his expression changed. He straightened in his chair, staring hard at her. He shook his head minutely, and his lips moved, hardly discernibly. Please.

No. That was the answer. Pepper felt both relieved and guilty. Relieved because Loki asking her not to tell like that made her feel certain that she shouldn't break his trust. Guilty because she realised that there was nothing else she could do.

"All right then. I guess I'm done." She suddenly felt very silly, barging into such a meeting to say what little she said. "I'm not usually like this. I guess this is what comes from being married to Tony Stark."

"Married?" Loki said in surprise. "When?"

"Just before this whole crazy stuff happened. We went to city hall in disguise to keep the press away."

"So the tabloids got it right for once," Loki said. He gave her a small, if sad, smile, before wiping all emotion from his face again.

Pepper headed back to the door, a frown heavy on her face as she desperately tried to think of anything else to say. Once she got to the door, she turned back. "I don't know much about Aesir politics or judgments, but maybe you should try to keep his mother in mind while you're debating what to do. She's already lost one son."

#

Loki sighed as Pepper left. He had been afraid that she would tell the few things she knew about his sojourn in the abyss, and was glad that she hadn't. He could not see how it would change the mood of the council towards him. No, it would just be proof to them of his weakness. They could never understand what it was like in those worlds. Sitting in the bright palace, even surrounded by the destruction of Thanos's army, even Loki had a hard time believing that such places existed.

"The mortal asked us to think of Frigga while we sentenced the traitor," Njord said after a moment, and Loki looked back up. He didn't stand again. He was too tired. Njord paused a moment, as if weighing his thoughts. "She asks us rightly to do so. So let us think of our queen. Let us think of the pain that Loki has brought to her."

Loki saw Odin shift, but didn't look at the king. Yes, he had caused his mother pain. Too much. But there was nothing that he could do about that, except try to make up for her suffering in whatever way he could. Try to be the son she deserved.

"But we must also think of Odin," Njord continued. "How can we place such a burden upon our king to sentence his own son to death? The time for discussion is past. Yet, we cannot demand that a father kill his son, no matter how undeserving that son is. I move for a council vote on the matter, to spare the Allfather the pain of condemning the boy he raised as his own son."

So this was it, then. Thor had fought to save him, and in the end it was Thor himself that would push the council to take a measure such as this. Taking Odin's command from him, sentencing Loki themselves.

Eir stood as Njord sat, her green robes flowing about her. She was the most skilled healer in the nine realms. Loki had always liked her. She had patience, kindness, and a gentle heart that was rare enough on the council. But he did not want her compassion. Bad enough to be sentenced to die by those who hated him, but to be thought so black of heart that those who could have hope did not... it was far worse.

"What you say, Njord, has some measure of wisdom, I must admit. But death should not so quickly be thought of. How can we say that the boy must die when we do not know his words? What drove him to his actions?" She turned to him. "Loki, have you anything to say?"

Loki opened his mouth to reply with curses as he would have before, but then closed it again. He wasn't that person anymore. He didn't want to be that person. His gaze dropped to his pastel-covered toes and thought. He thought about his anger, his loneliness, his time on earth. The desperation he felt as Thor was chained in that pit while the water rapidly rose. Survive, Loki!

Thor had died to save him.

He owed Thor his life.

What would Thor want him to say?

Loki looked back up at the council – really looked. He himself in them. Anger. Uncertainty. Sympathy. Fear. Sorrow. Disgust. Hatred. His gaze lingered on Odin. He saw himself in the king of Asgard. A liar. Regretful. The weight of sorrow, the consuming guilt, the anger, the uncertainty. Love. Betrayal.

What could he say?

He couldn't say that he had changed, because none of them had ever truly known him. He couldn't say that he was sorry, because none of them would believe him. He dropped his chin to his chest to gather his thoughts and then looked back up. "There is nothing I can say. What has been done cannot be undone."

He didn't look at Odin. Wouldn't look at Odin. Couldn't. Why did that stupid frog have to grin so much?

Njord stood and paced out onto the floor. He didn't look at Loki. Loki knew that the older god had decided to change his strategy. No longer fired up in righteous indignation, he walked slowly. As though his next words were weighing heavily on him, as if there was a pain in them that he did not wish to share.

Loki didn't believe it for a second.

Njord looked at his fellow councillors before looking at Odin. "The city is in ruins because of him. Our prince is dead because of him."

Loki gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. He wanted to shout that he, too, mourned Thor. He wanted to curse Njord for using such a fresh wound against him. He wanted to collapse where he was and cry out his tears again.

"Has he not caused enough sorrow to this realm? To our people? His crimes are not just against our world. We sit and talk, but we do not listen. Here, in the city, are people whom he has hurt beyond our scope of understanding. One man who this... monster hurt beyond our scope of imagination. Shall we not listen to him?"

It was a reasonable request. Loki knew that Odin would allow it before the nod came. He didn't have any other choice, if he was to try to remain in control of the sentencing. Loki wondered what meetings Njord had with Barton. True, the assassin had spared his life, but he could well be regretting that decision. No matter what, by agreeing to tell his story, Barton was helping to propel Loki one more step closer to condemnation.

The assassin was soon brought in. His expression was indecipherable. He didn't look at Loki.

"Agent Barton," Njord greeted. "Could you-"

"No."

Njord looked surprised. "Excuse me?"

"I said that I'd say what I thought needed to be said, not what you thought needed me to say," Barton said coldly. He looked around at the council members and then glanced at Loki.

Loki wondered if he was going to burst out into profanity again.

"There's a saying on earth," Barton said, looking directly at Njord now. "'Many who live deserve death, and many who die deserve life. Can you give it to them?'"

Loki's lips twitched as he recognised Gandalf's quote. Lord of the Rings. Good movies. He didn't suppose he'd ever watch them again.

"That seems a pretty sentiment," Njord said slowly.

"It's stupid," Barton deadpanned. "If a child is murdered, does that mean the man who killed her shouldn't die just because she deserved to live? I don't think so. Me, I'm more of an eye-for-eye than a turn-the-other-cheek kind of guy. He deserves to die." Barton looked accusingly at Loki. "And you know it."

Loki shrugged. Where was Barton going with this?

Barton looked back to Njord. "You wanted me to tell what he did to me. Well, I will. He took my mind and played with it, strung it out and then shoved it into a little corner. He unmade me. He forced me to kill. Strangers, people I knew, friends. They didn't deserve to die. And he knew exactly what he was doing, because he knew exactly what it was like. How long did Thanos keep you under the control of the sceptre?"

Loki cursed at him, rage flaring in him. Barton didn't even blink. There was a low murmuring in the council. Odin stared at Barton hard, as if trying to read his mind.

"You still have nightmares about it. That's what you meant when you said that I would never sleep again. You were talking from experience. How often do you have you dream that someone you love is killing you? Or that you are killing them? How often do you wake up and wonder if it was a really a dream or if it had actually happened?"

Loki cursed him again, louder this time. So this was his revenge. Building him as vulnerable, turning him into a victim. Lost. To be pitied. Loki trembled with rage.

"It happens to me almost every night. I wake up and I have to sort out what is real from what is not. You know what I dream about? I dream about holding a little girl down as she cries and pleads for me not to hurt her. I don't care. I cut her throat and I still feel her blood on my hands when I wake up."

The council was murmuring louder now. Loki frowned. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Barton wasn't turning him into a victim at all. "That did not happen," he said.

"Actually it did. Except it was my little sister who died, and my father who killed her. That's why I killed him. Because he deserved to die. She didn't." Barton finally looked away. His gaze passed over the council. "It hasn't even been a day since Thor died. You have a father grieving for his son, and you're telling him he has to kill his other son? He doesn't deserve that. He deserves to die." Barton pointed at Loki. "But Thor didn't. Can you bring him back?"

Bring him back. Loki stopped listening to Barton for a moment. Can you bring him back?

"Thor is dead. Ask yourselves why he died. He died because of Loki. Because Loki was in danger, and he wasn't about to let his little brother die. Thor died saving Loki's life. If you kill him now, it would be like killing Thor again. And Thor never deserved to die."

Barton paused, letting his words sink in. He nodded once, as if satisfied with what he had spoken. "One last thing. I hate him because of what he did to me and my world. Why do you hate him?" He looked at Njord. "Because he's Jotünn? You want to know what I say to that?"

#

Natasha raised her brows at Clint as the guard unlocked his shackles. Clint rubbed his wrists, shrugged, and walked with Natasha away from the room where he had been held for the past hour.

"I guess that Njord doesn't like me anymore."

"What did you say?"

"I probably shouldn't repeat it."

Natasha smirked. "Rogers is furious."

"I bet he is. But I said what I needed to say."

"Do you feel better?"

"I don't know."

Natasha put her arm around his waist and he responded in the like. "I feel better," she said. "Phil would be proud."

Clint looked at her for a moment, and then smiled. "You know what? I bet he would be."

Natasha hummed. "Well, I think whatever you said had an effect on the council. Sif told me that Loki's trial has been disbanded for the time being. You should have seen her. She was so angry that they were debating his fate so quickly... I don't blame her. Do they really hate Loki so much that they just ignored the fact that Thor..."

She trailed off, but Clint didn't need her to finish the sentence. "It seems to me that everybody is angry about that." He was silent for a moment. "Do you know what they're going to do with Loki in the meantime?"

Natasha shrugged. "I think they're just keeping him locked up right now."

"No less than he deserves," Clint replied swiftly, though his voice was flat.

"He's changed, Clint. And you know it."

"Yeah. But I didn't kill him when I had the chance, and I spoke in his sort-of defence. I think I've done my moral duties, here."

Natasha chuckled. "You do realise that this means that Loki owes you now, right?"

Before Clint could reply, he heard a very angry Captain America shout his name. He winced, and took his arm from Natasha's waist. Rogers came storming down the corridor, looking very much like Nick Fury, oddly enough. Natasha excused herself. Clint wished that she'd stay. He was about to get the lecture of his life.

Chapter Text

Frigga entered the small, bare room that was serving as Loki's cell. A single mattress was propped in the corner, the blankets smooth. He hadn't slept. A platter of food sat untouched on a small table nearby. Loki sat on a bench looking out of a long, narrow window at the falling dusk outside, a tiny child in this large, empty room. New clothing was sitting on the bench beside him, but he still wore his earth garb.

"Loki?"

"Has the council reached consensus on my punishment?"

"Loki-"

"Have they?"

"All debates and further reconvening of the trial have been postponed until after-" Frigga couldn't bring herself to say it. Her heart weighed heavy and it took all of her strength not to fall her knees and weep. Thor was dead. Her beautiful boy was gone forever. Just like Balder. "Until after the period of mourning is past."

"And when will Thor's funerary rites take place?" Loki asked, his voice as emotionless as if he was dead as well.

Do not think such things! Frigga told herself harshly. "They begin at dawn."

"The people have gathered around out there, to light candles and mourn." Loki leaned his head against the wall, but otherwise didn't stir. "Will I be allowed to attend, or will that be too upsetting for the people?"

Frigga sat behind him, looking out the window as well. She wanted to pull him onto her lap as she did when he was young, but she didn't think that he would accept her comfort, even if it was as much for comforting herself as it was for him. In the blackness beyond the window, pinpoints of candles spread out from the palace like a sea of stars.

"You will be expected to accept the condolences of mourners, Mother."

"I will be expected to offer them comfort in the time of my pain. I don't care. A mother deserves the right to mourn as she will."

"He died to save me. Will the council take that into consideration, or will they just see that he died because of me?"

"Loki, please."

"I keep thinking if there was something I could have done, or if it was inevitable. Either way, it's my fault."

Frigga felt her chest tighten. "No."

"It is."

"No, Loki. It's my fault."

Loki looked back at her, expression perplexed. "Why do you say that?"

Frigga looked at her hands for a moment, and then held out her arms to him. After a moment's hesitation, he turned and climbed into her lap, snuggling against her. "I have been a coward, Loki, letting you suffer with this, when the blame is mine, not yours, to bear... I can only beg your forgiveness."

"Mother-"

"Thanos did not come for you. He came for me."

Loki parted his lips, but didn't speak.

"On Midgard, I told you of Balder." Frigga closed her eyes, steeling herself to say what she knew she must. "Thanos was his father."

Loki was silent for a long time. "I don't understand."

"When I was very young, I left Asgard. I thought that I would have grand adventures." Frigga looked out the window, blinking at the tears in her eyes. "I slipped through the space between realms and found myself wandering worlds with no names."

Loki's breathing was rapid, his eyes wide. Horrified.

"I know that you must have walked those same paths. I'm so, so sorry, Loki."

She told him everything. The days of darkness, trying to find a way back to Asgard. Failed attempts to get home. The horrors she witnessed. The fear, the pain, the hunger, the empty despair. The feeling that she would do anything, give up anything, in order to have the feeling of safety. To lie down at night knowing she would wake the next morning, knowing that she would not have to beg or steal or worse for a few scraps of food. And then Thanos coming to her and offering just that.

"He did not have the Chitauri when I met him. He ruled a different army then. I made a deal, safety and security in exchange for service in his temple, without realising the full extent of consequences..." It was nearing midnight. Loki wept openly, as did Frigga. She pulled him in tight and kissed his dark hair. "I ran when I realised that I carried Balder. Thanos followed. He found me, days after I had given birth. He killed my son, and then showed me the way back to Asgard. He promised me that one day he would return and I would know true pain. I thought nothing could hurt more than losing Balder."

Loki clutched at Frigga's arms. He looked like he wanted to say something, anything, but Frigga knew that he could find no words.

"I wanted you to know, Loki," she told him. "I wanted you to know that it wasn't your fault. I wanted you to know before I told the council."

Loki went rigid. He shook his head. "No."

"I have to."

"No! Mama, no! They wouldn't understand. They don't know what it's like."

"I will not lose you as well as Thor."

Loki closed his eyes and lowered his head, choking on his tears. Frigga held him tight.

"I need to speak with Sif," he said eventually. "And you can't be here. Neither of us will say what needs to be said if you are."

"No. I will not leave you now."

"Because there will be no time later? Because you are convinced that the will of the council cannot be resisted now?"

"Do not twist my words, Loki," Frigga warned, and then her voice lowered into pleading. "Do not push me away."

"I'm sorry, Mother. I have to. I need to do this. If the council still demands I die, I can't go to my death wishing I had. And if they do not demand I die, I can't continue with my life if I do not... Please, Mama," Loki looked at her, his bright green eyes containing none of the peace they did when he was a child. "I am not asking. I am begging. Go away."

Frigga clung to him tighter, tears scalding her face. "If this is so important, then I will send Lady Sif."

"It is. It's more important now than ever."

#

He looks peaceful, Natasha tried to tell herself as she gazed at Thor's ashen face. But he didn't look peaceful. He just looked dead.

"I'm still working on believing this is real," Stark murmured, subdued, as he looked down at his feet rather than at Thor's body. "I never thought that Thor would be the first- I kinda thought that I would."

"We all did," Clint told him bracingly, gripping his shoulder. Stark didn't even crack a smile.

The Avengers had been asked to pay their last respects to their fallen friend quickly before they were returned to earth. Rogers had argued for a long time, but eventually had relented after a private and lengthy meeting with Heimdall. Natasha couldn't help but wonder how much Clint and Pepper's actions at Loki's trial had prompted their sudden departure date.

Pepper was the only one who was crying openly. The six humans stood around the stone table on which Thor lay. The Aesir had prepared him well. His armour had been cleaned, his red cape arranged majestically behind him, his golden hair brushed into a soft sheen. Even the dirt underneath his fingernails had been washed away. Mjölnir would forever lie where it had fallen from his grasp.

"In books, they always look like they're sleeping," Pepper mumbled. "But he doesn't."

Stark put his arm around her and she leaned into him.

Number one, Natasha thought. Showing grief.

Pepper with her tears, Stark with the blank look of disbelief. Her eyes were dry and she knew that her lips didn't even tremble. But another hole had been ripped open in her heart, the same way it had when Phil Coulson had died. The same way it did whenever a friend died.

She turned as she heard footsteps approaching. Sif entered. The Aesir looked surprised to see them, and glanced down briefly. Loki walked beside her, his tiny hands cuffed together. Natasha frowned. They still thought he needed to be restrained?

His gaze slid over the gathered humans, and then focused on the stone table. Sif walked him to the table, and then withdrew back to the doorway, motioning to the humans to join her. The Avengers did, but Pepper walked over to Loki and put her hand on his shoulder. Loki reached up his shackled hands to put overtop of Thor's.

"He will not be allowed to attend the funerary rites and services," Sif explained quietly, disguising her disgust well. "I ask you all to step outside for the time being, to give him time alone."

"He's not going to be allowed to attend his own brother's funeral?" Banner demanded angrily.

"The council feels it would be too distressing to the people."

"And Odin is just going along with it?"

Sif stared down Banner, which was not an easy feat. "This is not the time. The Allfather never acts without purpose."

"And chaining him up?" Stark asked angrily. "How did you even get handcuffs that small?"

"The shackles are enchanted to fit whatever wrist they are fitted to. And believe it or not, I am no more happy about this than you are." Sif tried to shepherd them out. "Please, give him a moment. He won't get another chance to say goodbye."

Natasha glanced back at Loki. He was clutching at Thor's hand, his head bent. His shoulders trembled.

The loud clanging of alarm bells startled them all except Sif. With one quick motion, she extended her spear. Catching the Avengers along its side, she shoved them from the room. She slammed the door behind them. Rogers jumped to his feet and rammed against it. It didn't budge.

"What are you doing?" Natasha heard Pepper shout, and then moments later, with more hysteria in her voice, "Stop! Stop, you're killing him!"

"Banner, the door," Stark shouted.

Frigga came running down the corridor, followed closely by Odin and the warriors three. Bruce's clothes tore apart as he transformed. Rogers caught Frigga before she could throw herself against the door, just before the Hulk punched through the wall right where she would have been. With a roar, he tore the door out and flung it down the hallway.

Inside the room, Pepper was chained to the wall with the shackles that had held Loki. Loki was lying on the stone table next to Thor, and Sif was standing over him, her hands around his neck. Frigga screamed wordlessly. Sif released Loki's throat. She offered no resistance as the three warriors pulled her back. Frigga seemed to have frozen, mouth open but her scream gone silent. Odin rushed forward and cradled Loki's head in his hands.

"No," the king whispered, heartbreak in his voice. "No."

From where Natasha stood, she saw that Loki wasn't breathing.

"NO!" Frigga sobbed, running forward. Odin reached for her but she struck his hands away. She gathered Loki's tiny body in her arms. He was limp and lifeless. "Why?" she cried, turning to Sif. Tears flowed down her cheeks. "Why?"

"I will submit to any punishment for my crimes," Sif said urgently, and Natasha was surprised to see that she was crying as well. Frigga pressed her face against Loki's body. "But this was Loki's will. He wanted this. He-"

"Crimes?" Odin repeated, and the fury in his voice was enough to make Sif shrink back. "What else have you done?"

"I gathered nectar from Yggdrasill."

Frigga looked up, her face slick with tears. Hope lit her eyes. Odin stepped closer to Sif. His presence filled the room, but there was urgency in him now.

"Did he drink?"

Sif nodded once.

"Where is the binding?" Frigga demanded.

Sif pulled a long green and red sash from under her tunic. Odin snatched it from her, quickly returning to Frigga. She set Loki down next to Thor, and Odin began wrapping the arms of the brothers together, whispering words in a strange tongue. Natasha shivered as she felt the magic coalesce in the room.

"Will it work?" Volstagg asked, stepping away from Sif.

"Only time will tell," Odin responded. He stroked Loki's dark hair. "Lady Sif, you know that the nectar of the world's tree cannot be gathered without full permission by the council or direct command of the king-"

"Seriously?" Stark exploded. "I certainly hope that there is something here that we mortals aren't understanding, because she just strangled your son and you're more worried about some stupid tree? You're a worse father than Darth Vader and he cut off Luke's hand!"

Natasha was glad that Stark was the one to speak. He was probably the only one who could talk to the king of Asgard in such a manner and still make it sound like Odin's fault.

"You do not know of what you speak," Odin replied sharply. "When a god drinks the nectar of Yggdrasill just before death, he can find his way back from the land of the dead. And if they are bound to another whose life had already left, sometimes-" Odin looked back at his sons. "Sometimes they can come back as well."

Chapter Text

Loki paced around a solid grey room. It was made of a material similar to stone, but the walls were warm to the touch and glowed slightly. He had no idea how long he had been here – how long he had been dead – nor what his next step should be. He was fully grown in this room, but there was no way out of it.

"Thor!" he shouted, thinking that maybe his brother would somehow hear him.

As if in response, the wall before him began to shimmer. He stopped pacing, and watched. The wall seemed to melt, and then reform into a narrow arch. Strange characters formed around the opening, and a thin mist-like veil dropped over it from the ceiling. The veil seemed to ripple, and a man stepped through.

"Sorry I'm late, but you're early," Phil Coulson said brightly. He was wearing bright silver armour, the breastplate of which was embossed with the image of a tree.

Loki took a step back. "You."

Coulson rolled his eyes. "Yes, me. We're not going over all this again, you should start remembering our last meeting shortly."

Loki frowned. "Our last meeting? The theatre- no, wait-" he looked at the floor as a vague memory started to appear in his mind. "Right. When I drank the nectar of the world's tree to heal from..." He looked back at Coulson and his frown deepened. "What are you wearing?"

Coulson looked at his armour. "Gondor armour. I just came from Middle Earth."

"You mean from Lord of the Rings?"

"Yeah. Don't ask, it's too complicated to explain. Come on, we've got to go find Thor."

"We?"