Chapter Text
Loki'd been on Earth for a couple of years, now.
Or at least, he'd been regularly causing havoc on Earth-- usually in New York-- for that long. That wasn't the same thing, necessarily, Steve realized. Not when even Asgard couldn't lock him up or shut down his abilities to travel.
It'd been odd though, the way things had sort of tapered off on his end. He hadn't killed anyone in over a year. Hadn't made any grand demonstrations of power, forced people to kneel or sing his praises-- less ego mania, less appearances overall.
Heck, the last time they'd seen him, he'd shown up in the Avengers' living room with a box of kittens.
Mind you, those had all been high level mob bosses before they were kittens, but the point remained. The guy wasn't exactly pulling big schemes these days.
There was a bet going on-- mostly Tony, to be fair-- about how long before he unveiled some great big to do, that he'd been building up to all this time. Tony figured Loki was just lulling them into a false sense of security. Steve kinda thought maybe the guy was just tired.
He'd seemed tired, before he'd disappeared-- right before the tone of their meetings had changed.
He remembered chasing him down, catching up to him on the same stones in the park where they'd sent him back to Asgard with Thor, both of them out of breath and staring at the other, daring the other to make the first move. And Loki had just smiled and spread his arms, welcoming a blow.
And Steve had sat down his shield.
He remembered, too, the way his chest had clenched when Loki just looked confused, maybe a little lost, but very definitely surprised when Steve wasn't making a move towards hurting him.
Since then, Steve had gotten the distinct impression Loki was watching him, though he wasn't sure why. Waiting for him to slip up, he'd supposed, but then, even when he was sloppy, tired and not guarding himself as well as he should, Loki didn't take the openings. Didn't hurt him.
And wasn't subtle about it.
There was one night when they had all returned to the tower, Bruce and the Hulk both bruised, Clint clutching at his broken fingers, Natasha holding her head that was likely concussed, and Tony-- they'd had to pull Tony out of the suit with a crowbar that night. Thor they didn't see for a few days, as he made his way back from whatever dimension Loki had thrown him into.
But Steve had remained unharmed. Untouched. Not a spell or even a slap.
So of course, it was a surprise to him now that Loki was standing atop the tower, grinning at him like a mad man while a thousand green explosions echoed from the middle of the city.
The others were trying to fight their way past the walls that Loki had erected, trying to get to where all the explosions were happening, but according to the frustrated voices in his ear via the comms, they weren't having much luck.
“Loki! What's going on?” He demanded, and the god looked surprised, the smile falling off of his face while he tilted his head.
His eyebrows pinched together and he turned to look out behind him, at his handiwork.
“I was under the impression that this was what was supposed to happen.” He said shortly when he turned back, an eyebrow raised, though Steve couldn't tell if he was asking or teasing or challenging.
“What?” He asked, already tired of the game. If they were going to fight, if they were going back to that, he just wanted to get it over with.
Steve had been looking forward to--
--well it didn't matter now. That wasn't what happening.
“Is it the color?” Loki asked, gesturing, so that the color of the explosions shifted, from green to red and blue. Over the sound of confusion in his communicator, Steve's mind shuddered, rolled over, and caught up.
“Loki, are you trying to make fireworks ?” He wasn't sure what emotion was hiding behind his disbelief, but whatever it had been dissipated when he saw the way Loki drew himself up and back, posture shifting into something much more distant.
And Steve hadn't even realized until then that he'd been at ease.
“I am not trying to do anything,” Loki spat, and Steve slid his shield into its holder on his back and raised his hands, trying to placate the guy.
“Why don't you tell me--” He started, but Loki took two angry steps forward.
“I don't have to explain anything to you .” He was snarling his words now, and Steve knew he'd screwed up somehow. Loki was doing that thing, where he prepared to open a hole and step through, to run away. Steve didn't know if the explosions would stop if he did, but more importantly, he knew whatever half-truce he'd managed to make the last time he'd interacted with Loki would leave with him unless he could fix it.
“Then let me explain-- do you know what the fireworks are for?” He asked, and Loki stopped, his hands stilling halfway through their motions.
The disturbance in the air beside him stilled and then dissipated, and Loki seemed subdued when he turned his eyes back to the explosions.
“They are for your birthday, are they not?” He sounded arch, but from where Steve was standing, with his shoulders sloped, he looked sort of defeated.
“They're-- no, wait are yours ?” Steve thought his stomach might have turned to concrete.
They had no way of knowing how many people were being hurt-- incinerated-- no way of getting to them-- and Loki had done it because--
Steve was going to be sick. He sat down hard.
“You don't like them.” Loki's voice was flat.
“ No .” Steve knew he sounded strangled, but to be honest he was having a hard time breathing. He watched as Loki raised a hand and clenched it into a fist, and the brightness that had been going on for at least half an hour straight was suddenly extinguished.
“I am sorry.” Loki said, mournful and oddly stiff, formal. He turned a little towards Steve, then seemed to think better of it and opened his portal, and stepped away.
“Walls are down.” Natasha reported in his ear. Steve squeezed the push to talk button in his glove.
“Loki's gone. Let's find those injured, and figure out what sort of damages we're looking at.” He let go of the button and buried his face in his hands, the pads of his gloves rough against his face.
He would go down, he would help. But first he needed to take a deep breath and think about what it meant that Loki had been doing this for him. The silence, the lack of light, it was ringing in his ears and pulsing in his eyes.
“Cap?” Tony's voice broke in, and Steve lumbered to his feet before answering.
“I'm on my way.” He assured them.
“No need.” Tony sounded perplexed-- an interesting sound, from the guy who figured he knew everything.
“Come again?” Steve said dumbly.
“No damage. No casualties.” Natasha's voice broke in, strong and certain enough that he didn't question it.
“Fucking magic.” Barton grumbled.
And that was it.
As Steve looked out at the city, more confused now than before, but able to breathe again, his heart seized for a second when a screech sounded, followed by a flash of light and the sound of a crackling explosion-- but it wasn't green, the way Loki's had been, or even the blue and red he had changed them to.
It was gold, a real firework, and he couldn't begrudge the people that. After all, it was the Fourth of July, and they probably should be celebrating. After all, no one was hurt, nothing needed repair--
He just didn't know why he felt so rotten, instead.
---
For once, Steve was glad when Thor burst through the elevator doors, eager to question him about Loki. Steve had a few of his own questions as well.
The team joined them as soon as they had changed out of their emergency gear, and Steve found himself surrounded by friends, a beer in hand and a cake on the coffee table, talking about magical pseudo-fireworks. It felt surreal. But no more, he supposed, than the part of his day on the roof had been.
“To celebrate your birth?” Thor repeated thoughtfully. He sounded glad, though, hopeful. As if Steve had given him good news. “That would explain then why he was keeping people away-- he knew you would not be pleased if he harmed any in an attempt to honor you.
“Also explains the location. If you had looked out the window of your room, you would have had probably the best view in the city.” Bruce added. Tony had his lips pursed and his brows scrunched together, as though he was trying to work out some complex tangle.
Loki was that, Steve supposed.
“Seems to me you had pretty good seating where you were-- right next to the guy lighting up the sky for you. So, what'd you say to him?” Natasha definitely sounded like she was teasing. Like she thought this was funny somehow.
“I--” This was the part Steve wasn't sure how to talk about. “I didn't know no one was-- I still thought people were dying. And--”
It got quiet, no one moving or saying anything.
Steve swallowed.
“I didn't say much. I just asked him if he knew why we had fireworks and he said for my birthday, and I got queasy.” Clint patted his shoulder sympathetically and Steve nodded his thanks. “He just said, 'You don't like them.' and I said No, and he...stopped it, and left.” That didn't properly explain the way Loki had looked, or sounded. The way Steve's chest had constricted and his stomach grown heavy, the way it felt like he was freezing inside.
“Ah.” Thor sounded troubled. “I think... you will find that one of two things will happen.”
Natasha arched her brow at him, and Tony gestured for him to continue, circling his beer in the air.
“Either Loki will hide for some time-- perhaps even refuse to come near you again from humiliation, or he will be here many more times before the night is over, attempting to bring consolation gifts to make things right.”
Steve let out his air harshly.
“At this point, I don't even know which of those to hope for. I mean, I feel bad, but.”
“But not badly enough to wish my brother upon yourself.” Thor finished for him, nodding in sympathetic understanding.
Steve had to stand, suddenly, and ended up pacing a few feet between the couches, moving to stand with his back to the television, facing the rest.
“No, it's not that, it's just-- if I humiliated him like you say, who knows what he might do to try and one up himself? If explosions was plan A, what is plan B going to look like?”
Understanding and horror passed over the faces of his companions, and Steve inhaled, steadying himself.
“I think I need to find Loki.” He said grimly, and Tony shook his head and leaned forward, arms resting on his knees and the beer bottle dangling between his legs in one hand, the very picture of concentration.
“I think you need to figure out why Loki wanted to celebrate in the first place. This is about honoring you, right? But why?” He just seemed ponderous, not even teasing, and Steve felt his face getting hot, knowing there was no real reason for it.
“Yeah, seriously. If anything, I deserve to be celebrated. You're not the one whose brainmeat he got his sticky fingerprints all over.” Clint was trying to make light of it, Steve knew, but it just made him wince.
It was bad enough someone trying to make a grand gesture like that, but having that someone be Loki , being reminded of what that someone had done, to their city, their friends...
“Perhaps you may ask him yourself.” Thor said, standing, and crossing to the window. “It seems it did not take him long to lick his wounds and come up with an alternative gift.”
Steve groaned, moving to stand beside Thor to see what he was talking about.
Loki was outside the window, in midair.
Only, not-- in midair, per se, or... not on nothing, at least.
“Are you kidding me? Where do you even get a magic carpet?” Tony sounded scandalized, and Natasha laughed, the sound like a glass breaking, delicate and sharp.
“If you get on that thing, he is gonna show you a whole new world.” She said it so dryly that Steve didn't know what she meant, until Tony, Bruce, and Clint all cracked knowing smiles.
A reference, then.
Peachy.
“I'm going out to the roof. Maybe-- just don't shoot him down unless I call for help, okay?”
He was still in his uniform, and he knew that the comm system was run through JARVIS. They'd be able to hear if he needed them. And, he had a feeling, even if they didn't. He couldn't imagine any of the Avengers passing up the chance to eavesdrop on this one.
So that was how he found himself standing outside, on a roof, with Loki, for the second time that day.
“I thought you might like a means of flying yourself in and out of situations.” Loki said without preamble, having risen to meet him. He held out the carpet, rolled into a neat and convenient bundle in his hands.
“I know it must be bothersome to you that you cannot always arrive as quickly as your fellows.”
And Steve had to give it to him that that was thoughtful, but...
“Where'd you get it from?” He asked, mind still on the other thing Tony had said, and he realized that he had blurted those words trying to keep from saying something else-- from demanding to know why .
Loki stiffened again, and Steve stepped forward, before he screwed this up, too.
He put his hands around the gift, not taking it, but not letting go, either-- holding Loki there.
“Sorry, I didn't mean it like that.” He hurried to say.
“You worry that I have stolen it, that its true owners will come after you, is that it?” Loki was quieter, sounded harder-- angry, Steve realized. And probably hurt again.
“No, that's not--”
“You needn't be concerned. It is a purchased rug that I ensorcelled myself, but if you don't want it...” Loki made to take it back, but Steve still wouldn't let go.
“About earlier,” he said, and Loki's mouth twisted downwards.
“I am trying to make amends!” the words came out of him in a rush, and Steve shook his head, catching the rug as Loki let go to step backwards, away from him.
But he wasn't going to let go of this that easily; he followed.
“I know you are, and I appreciate it, really! This is... this is really thoughtful, and I'm grateful. I wanted to apologize. I didn't realize-- there was nothing wrong with your first... gift?” He wasn't sure if that was the right word for it, and he had no way of telling if he'd offended Loki all over again. He'd just gone still, the only part of him that was moving was his hair, shaken loose from whatever product normally held it against his skull, and now it was moving around his head, tangling in front of his face, making his already expressionless eyes even more unreadable.
“Then-- it is me.” He spoke softly, and his eyes drifted down to the carpet. “I understand, of course.” His tone was lighter when he looked back up, a grin plastered onto his face, but it was strained; Loki was trying to laugh it off. “After all, who celebrates their birth with their enemy? How foolish of me. I'll take it back and leave you to your feasting.” He put his hands out again, this time to receive his gift, and Steve felt that same unpleasant twinge in his chest as he'd experienced earlier.
“I was afraid that there were... people, behind your wall. I thought... after all that time, I was afraid you were hurting people again. Killing them. In my name.” It was hard to say, especially to his face-- and doubly so because he knew that it showed a lack of faith, a lack of trust. But then again, this was Loki . He had no real reason to trust him.
Save that he got the feeling that he wanted him to.
“I would not, not if I meant to be honest in my celebration. But you had no way of knowing that.” Loki inclined his head. “I apologize.” He still sounded so woebegone, Steve wasn't sure how the hell he was supposed to fix it.
“Don't be sorry. You did everything right. And this--” he hefted the carpet, “Really, you didn't have to. You don't, still, and... if you want it back, I will return it to you, but... can I ask for something? A request?”
Loki looked like he was bracing to be yelled at, or hit, or hell, like he thought Steve might push him off the roof without the carpet.
But even so, he nodded, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.
“You may ask .” He said, obviously implying that Steve might not get what he wanted.
“I just want a straight answer-- just tell me why. Why you aren't... you know. Doing the random murders and violence thing any more. Why all of this. That's it.”
Steve watched Loki's lips twist upwards, but it was another mask. He could tell, because the expression didn't meet his eyes.
They still looked sad, maybe scared.
Lonely.
“Because you let me go. You trusted me to do the right thing, gave me my life, even knowing that I could use it to take others'. I have thought often of that.” Loki told him, steadily and quietly. It had the air of a confession.
“It's not like I could hold you if I did manage to catch you.” He objected.
“You might have killed me. Or tried. But you didn't. You just...” Loki flapped his hands. “I could not repay you by breaking that faith. And I haven't had a proper means or time to thank you, until now.”
“How'd you know? About today, I mean?” He asked. Behind him, another fireworks display began-- it must be nearly midnight by now; those should be the last of them.
“By watching you.” Loki shrugged.
“You want to--” Steve stopped, not entirely sure if he might be stepping wrong. Barking up the wrong tree. “Instead of watching from the outside, you want to come in? Celebrate with the rest of my friends? We've got a cake.” He knew he came off as too earnest. Inwardly, he sighed, certain he'd already lost the chance.
“Friends, Steve Rogers? Is that what we are?” Loki was speaking lowly again. He looked tempted, and started to step forward. Steve's heart leaped hopefully, but then Loki stopped short and shook his head.
“No, I think it's better that I not. Your friends have even less reason to trust me than you have.” He paused, then smiled. “Perhaps next year. Happy Birthday, Captain.”
Loki finished his step inwards, brushed his lips over Steve's cheek, then stepped over and away and was gone.
Bemused, but feeling lighter, Steve took his rug downstairs to face his friends, hoping that there weren't any cameras, or that at least they hadn't been watching that last part.
But he had a smile that wouldn't budge from his face all through cake, which he ate cross legged, hovering a few feet from the ground, gratified by Tony's squirming and the way Pepper shot him a series of glances forbidding him from poking at Steve's present.
It looked like it might shape up to be an interesting year. Not many hundred-year-old men could say as much.