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The first day is all chaos.
Naturally.
Because it's the Avengers and it's Loki and it hasn't even been three hours since the last of his soldiers died in the New York streets.
They wind up settled around a table, food passably good, but no one really registers that anyways. They are tired, so impossibly tired, and when Cap finally lets his eyes close and Thor blankly starts in on his food, after finishing his own, it goes wholly unnoticed.
For Bruce it is not an exhaustion that is unknown. It's an assaulting, bone deep raggedness, all too common for one who has spent significant time on the run, from himself or from others; the memories of which are all at once a blur and startlingly clear. He wants nothing more than a night of dreamless sleep without the constant anticipation of losing himself. Since the latter is nigh well unattainable, he thinks he can deal with just the sleep and a much needed bath.
After food.
His is not a metabolism with patience, especially not after the few preceding days. As is also the case for many at the table. So, food first. Then bathing. Then sleep.
Oh god, he really is hoping that's what will happen. Despite all that has happened in the life Dr. Bruce Banner, he still finds himself wishing for things when he really knows that he shouldn't.
But... if wishes were fishes, as they say.
The first abnormal thing to register is a little closed-throated sound of alarm from Clint, however Bruce is struggling to right his glasses, which have suddenly fallen haphazardly from his nose, and isn't seeing anything clearly because from here it looks like Clint- no, that cannot be possible. He rights his glasses, as much as he is able and...
Well. There isn't anything wrong with his eyesight.
“What?” The sound comes from the direction of Stark, but Bruce can't honestly register the two together. Tony is small, a child of maybe eight, with dark wild hair, but his eyes are the same, an intense honeyed brown and it's plain that he is taking in the situation with alarming speed. Now, Bruce is a genius, but the only cause he can fathom to their new situation is one involving magic. That's when the same little voice as before says “Aha!” and Tony emerges from where he dived under the table with his little fist full of fabric, green and gold color scheme clearly identifying their owner, not to mention the tiny pale hand that flails up amongst them.
Obviously Tony has arrived to the same conclusion that he had. There is a thunk across the table where the good Captain Rogers, now tiny and towheaded, has succumbed to sleep, which his own body isn't too far off from.
“Loki-” Tony starts at the same time Thor manages “Brother” through a mouth of food. Loki is as small as the rest of them, wide green eyes and dark hair, looking far too endearing in his young face, but his expression is still the same bored, unaffected one he so often wears and he is standing, little arms crossed over his chest defiantly.
“Where is it?” Thor says imperiously in a tiny, high pitched voice. He is watching his brother expectantly, still eating, despite practically drowning in his billowy clothes. Judging by his unconcerned manner, Thor must have an idea about what was happening, Bruce thinks. Though it could also just be Thor being, well, himself. Bruce watches as Loki lifts his little chin, a stubborn set to his features. “Brother.” Thor says warningly and with a little humph Loki starts digging through his robes. After a moment he produces an egg shaped object that has a soft greenish glow to it. He's gripping it carefully between his small fingers.
“You know very well that there is nothing to be done, brother.” He has a similar tiny voice and he manages to put a sneering emphasis on the word 'brother'. “Now that it's been set- HEY!” he yelps as Thor plucks the object out of his hands, gives it a little toss, and then brings it close to his face for inspection. Loki's hands are following his movements, twitching. “Don't drop it you fool.”
Across the table Clint leans in, focusing on the egg. “Why? What happens if it breaks?”
Cursing, Tony leans over Loki to try and get a better look as well.
“Then we remain in these forms permanently.” Thor answers, mouth once again occupied with food. The pita he is holding with only one hand has leaked the considerable bulk of its contents onto the table, however Thor's eating continues unabated.
“Excuse me?” A high falsetto voice pipes in. Almost the youngest of all them at maybe six, Natasha looks like a doll, all wide eyes and tight red curls. Her little face is set like porcelain that looks ten seconds from cracking.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me!” Tony chimes in and, using Loki's head as a balance, neatly pulls the egg from Thor's fingers. “Okay, yeah, um, I'm just gonna keep this, if that's alright with you- or really even if it's not, cuz... yeah.”
“Thor,” Natasha continues, “what do you mean we'd be stuck like this?”
“Ya and maybe also telling us what's happened to us would be nice.” Tony butts in again, holding the the egg close to his chest with both hands. Bruce can just make out the light of the arc reactor underneath his shirt. Sheesh, he thinks to himself. The thing looks like it's taking up most of his chest. It's light and that of the egg seem to pulse together and Bruce hurriedly looks away, lest he be caught staring.
“'Tis but a toy my friends!” Thor says with far too much cheer to befit the situation. “There is no need for worry.”
“I don't know, being stuck like this seems a significant reason to worry.” Bruce responds, lips pulled to the side. He's got one hand holding up his glasses and the other keeping on his pants, though he's not really sure why, his shirt goes well past his knees. Still, he feels the need for something approaching normal and not having pants on would definitely be outside of that range.
“I think the most important question needing to be answered right now is how the hell do we turn it off, turn us back?” Clint asks. His bow looks enormous against his back.
“You don't.” Loki responds with smug smile.
To which Thor adds, “We shall return to ourselves in time, when the device has reached the end of its countdown.”
“And how long will that be?” Natasha asks.
Loki leans in to look at the egg, which has Tony shifting to keep it out of his reach. “Relax, little human.” he sighs, which looks oddly dramatic coming from a child, “Why would I damage something that would strand me in this body?” Then turning to the rest of them. “It looks to be about sixty of your days.”
“Sixty what days?” Tony cries indignantly. “Of this? No. You can't be- Two months? I don't think I can even reach my work bench!” He gestures to his child body as other angry mumbles join his.
“No need to fret yourself, Iron Boy.” Loki sneers. “We won't remain this young for the entire time. We will grow up, as it were, until we return to our correct age.”
“So we have sixty days of puberty ahead of us. Great.” Bemoans Clint. Next to him Natasha looks vaguely ill.
“So what do we do now?” Bruce asks.
Natasha sighs “It doesn't seem like we have much choice. S.H.I.E.L.D. will be in here any moment and we'll be lucky if they let us out of their sights like this.” She gestures to herself and then to the egg. “And they'll want someone working on that as soon as possible, too. And probably have you two take a look at it.” Her eyes flickered between Bruce and Tony.
“There is no point.” Loki is practically radiating superiority. “It can't be undone. At least not without risking ourselves in the process or taking us back to Asgard.”
At that moment Steve jerks awake, a red mark on his forehead, wide blue eyes blinking blearily. He looks around the table twice, three times before saying “No.” and promptly dropping his head back onto the table.
~ : ~
Natasha isn't at all certain that any of them know what they are doing.
The night before had been a mess. S.H.I.E.L.D. had swarmed their group and taken the Asgardian device and had them all bundled off to an undisclosed base before any of them could launch significant protest. Tony had tried. There had been long winding and horribly repetitive explanations, far too invasive medical exams and a mad scramble to find them clothes that would fit.
In the end, an agent had nipped out to a local store and bought whatever he could find.
Thus, Natasha had been presented a sickly medicine pink dress. With ruffles. She had tried to force it on Clint instead, but he'd made a mad screaming dash down some hallway, leaving her the choice of wearing the dress or going naked. An hour later, when Fury had found her, he made her put on the dress, with promises that yes, he would buy her something better immediately and no, he wasn't going to relocate that particular agent to a Siberian post.
It is alright though. She has already scheduled in plans to sabotage the offending agents morning coffee for the next few weeks.
Now they are discussing their... situation.
“I don't think there is any reason for us to have to stay here. It's not going to fix our problem, we might as well be able to be comfortable in our own homes.” Tony was glaring at Steve. They are locked in an office, sitting at a round table and Natasha feels very small, her head barely over the lip of it. The last time she had felt like this she'd been staring into the face of Bruce's other self, she doesn't like the feeling. She hated childhood the first time around, this second trip just makes her feel sick.
“You have to acknowledge how vulnerable we are like this. You, Tony, could have something go terribly wrong with your...” Steve motions at his own chest, shaping out the arc reactor, “What if you needed immediate help?” He is kneeling on his chair, or else his face would be entirely beneath the line of their table.
“Then there is nothing anyone here could do to help!” Tony barks out. “If anything goes wrong I would need my workshop, Pepper, JARVIS- nobody here could do anything!”
“You won't be able to reach any of the equipment you'd need, let alone operate any of it. What are you going to do-”
“I'd figure out something.” Tony butts in stubbornly. “Genius, remember.”
Steve sighs heavily and stares hard at Tony. “Do you ever let anybody forget?”
“Nope.” Tony's smile is all angles and patently fake, though, Natasha has to admit, while not as good as her own, it is a well done mock up. It's the eyes that give him away, all distance.
“The point is, you'll be safer here. At least until we've... grown up a little. Please Tony.” And really that is the end of the conversation because Steve's looking worried with his little round face and big eyes, Tony doesn't even try to resist.
~ : ~
They spend exactly one day in S.H.I.E.L.D. requisitioned housing.
Tony sets fire to his room, the common room and their kitchen with a single experiment.
Thor and Loki have an argument that results in a broken couch, table and two windows.
And Clint disappears.
Steve is pretty sure that they're not going to make it back to adulthood.
~ : ~
Clint it turns out is far harder to find now that he's shrunken to half his original size.
~ : ~
Six days.
It's been six days since Clint took to the air duct system and he has yet to be found and he is loving every minute of it. Initially he only climbed up a bookshelf, unscrewed the air vent cover and hauled himself into the passage as means of escape. Tasha had been chasing him with some truly revolting pink mass of tool and blended cotton and she is relentless when she is determined. He is staying in the vents however, because now, well now, it's fun.
Sure his childhood wasn't sunshine and roses, but he has skills now that he didn't when he was this small the first time. This is new kind of game. He can fit in places that were much too small before, wriggle into and between things, and since he's not actually a child, his coordination is still on form. He is missing his adult strength, but what he lacks in force, he can make up for in stealth. The hardest part is remembering that his bow is now taller than his head. It whacks on things now and again, causing Clint to either freeze in his tracks or scramble for better cover.
Of course the ducts are the first place they came looking for him, but the base they're at is woefully inadequate as far as security goes and all he had to do was keep one step ahead and stay in places bigger people couldn't fit. They have yet to send the other Avengers to search for him. If Tasha comes after him, he's gonna have to rethink his entire strategy.
He spends his days seeing which locked rooms, restricted corridors, high security sections he can break into and, naturally, liberating food from the cafeteria.
He can't remember if he was ever this happy as a kid.
Every night he curls up in a ventilation shaft just large enough to fit his eight year old self and falls asleep to the echo's of life going on beneath him.
~ : ~
“See, I told you.” Natasha says.
“So... how are we going to get him out?” asks Bruce, turning his head to get a better look.
As it turns out, their growth is not a slow change, but something that occurs at random and rather dramatically. So when Steve woke up that morning to find that his legs looked far longer and his bed didn't seem quite so large, he was happy. Now instead of a chubby cheeked five year old, he resembles a knobby kneed preteen. Truth be told, he was more than a little relieved when he looked in the mirror and didn't see the familiar skinny face of his youth, but just a younger version of his post-serum self.
Parsing the past off was one of the few coping mechanisms that actually worked, easier to keep his mind in the present that way. One thing he wishes the counselors and operatives at S.H.I.E.L.D. would understand, constant reminders of what he's lost aren't helping. He isn't afraid of forgetting, that is impossible; he is afraid of not moving on. The idea that his past will become nothing more than chains holding him back, something he might learn to resent, is utterly terrifying. So he pushes hard into this new life, eternally grateful to this mismatched group of heroes, much more than they will probably ever know. Well, most of them. Sometimes Tony looks at him like he might get it, offering him quiet smiles when he could just fall back on being his usual arrogant self. It's a kindness that he's not sure how to take, as well as the fact that, sometimes, when he looks at Tony, unsurprisingly, he sees Howard instead, and he only feels the barest of aches.
“I say we oil him up and see if we can just slip him out.” Tony's smiling deviously as he says this. At this present moment Clint is a mass of limbs jutting at odd angles out of an air vent in which he is stuck.
They hear a muffled "Screw you, Stark" from inside the metal box.
“I told you.” Natasha says again. “All we had to do was wait.” They have all grown during the night and Clint is no exception, his tidy little hiding spot that has now become a tidy little cage is proving that point quite nicely.
“I don't know about that plan.” Steve adds while trying to see into the small space. If he can just get a sense of how Clint is stuck, maybe they can maneuver him into a better position.
Tony crosses his arms, cocking his little twelve year old head. “If anyone has a better idea then lets hear it.”
"Someone have a better idea" comes quickly from Clint.
That's when Thor grips one edge of the square hole where Clint's elbow and foot are both showing and simply rips. The metal sheeting pulls making a heinous screeching as it goes. But then there is Clint's shoulder and head and suddenly there is enough room to pull him free, barely, but a few scrapes are the least of what he deserves after being MIA for the last week and a half. He comes sliding out in a jumble of body parts and the whole thing is not unlike a birthing, Steve thinks, which makes him feel oddly unsettled.
He pats Thor on the shoulder. “Good work.” and then sighs, “I guess I'm the one who's going to have to tell Fury about his need for a new vent.” The silence that greets him is so very reassuring.
~ : ~
They are two weeks in when Fury finally tells them the truth.
Clint cries. Not manful, hard wrought tears, but actually blubbers like a baby.
The room is plastic, white on taupe and with the heavy air of sick around. Tony takes one look around and pulls a face. “Uh, couldn't you guys spring for a nicer room?” He looks over to the bed winks and waves in one smooth movement. “Hi there, by the way. I mean seriously. A guy takes on an alien GOD for christsakes and the least you'd think he would get is a decent room to recover in.”
Agent Coulson manages a smile from where he's laying, with Clint already up next to him on the bed, trying to talk through his snot and tears. When they had been told earlier that day, Thor had cried out joyously and then had said to Fury in all seriousness “I will forgive your deceit for the honor is clear in your intentions. Though I will not forgive such a trespass again”. The whole thing had looked startlingly ridiculous, Thor's straight face and tiny body threatening Fury who is more than a head taller. Miraculously Fury hadn't rolled his eye, but gravely nodded at the small god.
They are given precisely ten minutes to visit, as ordered by a very put out doctor that apparently did not appreciate a group of children bothering his patient. Coulson spends much of the time staring awkwardly at them, especially a ten year old Steve, who smiles and pats his arm reassuringly.
“Son of Coul!” Thor shouts despite being no farther from the agent than the foot of the bed. “How glorious is our victory brother in arms! That I have seen you fall in battle and live to rise again, you are indeed a brave warrior and I shall have a song sung about you in the halls of my father, when I return home!” And this point Coulson looks like he might says something but Thor continues. “My brother shall be punished for his crime against you. Though he has complained already that he suffers enough in this form in which we find ourselves.”
Loki hadn't been allowed to come with them, much to Thor's disappointment. He had argued that his brother 'had amends to make', but Steve had reassured him that it was better this way. Thor was busily explaining this when the doctor returned to shoo them away.
No one had had a chance to speak but Thor and Tony, who now is just watching Thor in rapt amusement.
~ : ~
That night Tony helps Steve find a full set of vintage Captain America trading cards on ebay.
~ : ~
“Come on! Come on, come on, come on!” The Iron Boy is shrieking from his position at the front of their group. Loki would just as soon curse him with some blight or another, but his brother is keeping a viciously close watch on him and it wouldn't do to incur more of his wrath at the present moment.
Besides, today they have been set free, or to be more precise, they are being allowed outside the pitiful little human base. It was to the nagging whine of his brother that their leader grudgingly consented to let him out at all. Loki isn't even sure why. They kept him locked up before, why not now? Just because he was smaller and therefore presumed harmless.
Loki humphs, but is suddenly pulled forward by one of his brothers clumsy paws.
“Look brother!” Thor cries, pointing at something that has matted fur and towers over them. “What beast is this?”
“It is not a beast.” Loki sniffs, marveling at his brothers naiveté, just as the... thing turns toward them and waves.
“Hi there kids!” It yells. Loki jerks back, startled and wide eyed, clamoring into his brother. Unfortunately, Thor is similarly unsettled, but is looking to fight the thing instead of run from it. He shoves forward, taking Loki with him.
“A challenge then great creature!”
Loki's always been convinced that his brother is crazy, but this just proves it. He is bustled and jostled forward, as Thor tries to get around him. In a tangle of their legs, Loki finds himself sprawled out at the creatures feet. The thing jumps in surprise and then collapses on top of him. Loki's cries are lost beneath those of a flailing, and quite frankly stinking, beast and his excuse of a sibling shouting for vengeance.
Things only get worse when the rest of the group comes back to help, though at least the creature is lifted off of him.
“Thor- no, STOP! What are you doing!” The Spangled Boy is shouting, pulling at his brother. The Iron Boy and Barton are both wheezing with laughter as they haul the beast to a bench. There are a growing number of humans starting to surround them now, demanding questions of the thing that turns out not to be a beast at all, but rather a pathetic human in a thing suit. The human is leaking copious amounts of fluid.
“I-I-I don't k-know what happ-ppened!” The human sobs. “They j-just started screaming at me!” Its voice goes shrill in the middle.
“You screamed first.” Loki sniffs, while his brother apologizes. He's had quite enough of this supposed happiest place on earth.
“Alright group!” Iron Boy shouts once more, tugging on the arms of those closest to him. “We are seriously wasting the day here and we have like at least a dozen more rides meant only for small children to try out, before our designated S.H.I.E.L.D. agent realizes that we're missing from our assigned recreational area.” He makes little signs in the air. “And then we are gonna have to start really hiding.”
~ : ~
They make it through the Matterhorn, tea cups, all of Toon Town and a smattering of blinking, twirling, shooting rides before Fury himself meets them at the exit of Space Mountain.
It's alright though, Tony buys himself the biggest lollipop he can find and lightsabers for Steve and Bruce, a magic eight ball in the form of Aladdin's genie lamp for Thor, and a bag of sour gummies for Loki.
Clint and Natasha have been missing since they rode Peter Pan.
~ : ~
By the time Clint and Natasha have been found, they have ridden It's a Small World twelve times.
They sing its theme the whole way back.
...
Apparently they are pissed about not getting lightsabers.
~ : ~
Shortly after the amusement park debacle Tony is actually able to finagle a group trip to his, recently rebuilt, New York skyrise, under the guise of a movie night. Nobody really believes that is why he wanted to go, but he's been pestering about getting back to his work and his robots and his JARVIS quite loudly so they all figure that Fury just wanted them (him) gone.
Bruce can hardly care, a night out is a night out. Even if it's not really 'out', but more 'in' as in 'inside Tony's house'. Their place at S.H.I.E.L.D. is like a bunker and really the antithesis of interesting.
Tony is so excited that he is vibrating by the time they riding up the elevator to his twenty-fourth floor flat.
“Hello JARVIS. I know you missed me. It's been like what... four- five days?” Tony calls out as soon as the doors ping open.
“Three weeks, sir. And it is always a pleasure to hear your voice sir, though, if I may, it seems to have changed somewhat since our last encounter.” A British accented voice responds.
“Ha. Ha. Ha. Funny. Where do you get your humor?”
“It remains a mystery, sir. Shall I take the liberty of having some food brought around?”
“Chinese.” Tony says, climbing onto a stool in front of his desk. He begins to move schematics around, tapping pictures and mumbling.
Steve is standing next to him, eyes darting around in interest. “What is all this?” He asks picking up one of the blueprints, which Bruce now feels should be named blackprints, at least the ones Tony has.
Tony just smiles. “These, Cap, are a surprise.” And he wiggles the print out of Steve's hand and buries it in a pile of other papers.
“Steve.” responds Steve.
Tony hums his question as he shuffles through a pile of papers.
“It's just Steve.”
“Oh. Right.” Tony nods, not looking up, but there is a small smile tugging into his cheeks. “JARVIS how's the lab, back home?”
“Nothing I couldn't handle, sir.”
“How many fires has Dummy started?”
“Just the one, sir.”
“Excellent! Food, food. Is that happening?” Tony turns to find that Steve has wandered over to the couch. In fact they all have, except him of course. They are already settling in. Clint has gathered a nest of pillows around him, which he keeps having to adjust as people steal them. Tony finds himself inextricably drawn to the group. They are arguing over what movie to watch and Tony pulls himself up between Bruce and Steve and imperiously takes over the situation.
“JARVIS, nix on the Chinese. Pizza and compile a list of award winning films dating from nineteen forty-five to present day and include my personal list of favorites. Alphabetical or random?” he asks the room at large.
“Alphabetical.” Steve says quickly and beside him Bruce nods his agreement.
“You heard the man.”
“Yes, sir.” JARVIS replies primly.
“Alright Cap-Steve,” says Tony, settling in as the list of movies appears on the screen. “time to catch you up on some history.”
They all fall asleep like domino's, tilted against one another. Thor has practically climbed on top of Loki, opting to use him as a pillow instead of a real one. Loki doesn't complain, so no one else says anything. Next to him Clint rests on top a pile of pillows, flung happily over them. Natasha is sleeping with her head on one of the pillows in Clint's pile and her feet shoved under the pillow Bruce is using on her other side. Tony's own pillow is on Bruce's hip and he has Steve curled up against his side, utilizing his stomach for a pillow since he hadn't the heart to steal one from Clint's nest.
~ : ~
Two days later they are back on base and chasing an angry Hulk down hallways and through walls.
It is the lesson of a lifetime that leaving a bored Clint and Tony alone together is a unequivocally bad idea.
Apparently, they felt that seeing if Bruce's other form was affected by their transformation was worthy of experimentation. Well, Steve thought as he jumped through a gashed open metal door, for the official record, he was. This mini-Hulk was not even a third of the size of the original and quite a bit thinner, but he still packed an enormous amount of force in his punch.
“I'm still on his six, heading through level four, east side, uh, I'm really not sure what corridor.” He calls into his earpiece. It buzzes with static before Natasha answers.
“I'm up ahead, can hear him coming. He's still on their tails.”
“Alright, see if we can't force him away from the laboratories.” Steve hears a roar and leaps through a broken glass panel. “When this is over, those two are cleaning our toilets with their toothbrushes!”
When Natasha opens the line again he can hear her laughing.
~ : ~
By the end of the week they are all in their late teens and Tony is determined to get into the board meeting for Stark Industries.
When he tried to ask Pepper for help she hung up on him. Six times.
But that doesn't matter, because JARVIS is his ultimate ally. Honestly he doesn't know what makes any of these people think that they can keep him hidden away in some god awful hole, a glorified shoe box. Scratch that. A shoe box might be more interesting. Depends on the pair of shoes.
The others might be okay with this 'for your protection' crap, but Tony knows how the world works, the nature of man. He knows that you can't separate yourself from danger; it finds you anyway. He's carved that motto into his chest.
But mostly, he hasn't seen his work shop in over a month and he's feeling the need to get his hands on something.
That is why, despite S.H.I.E.L.D and Pepper's best efforts, Tony walks through the double glass doors to face twenty-six people in business suits. Well, twenty-five people and one very pissed off Pepper.
“So listen,” he starts off, loving the confused faces, “I'm concerned-”
“Tony.” Pepper says flatly.
“-with the overall budget for government contracts.”
“Okay.” She says with an air of finality, before she turns her oh so placating smile onto the board. “Please excuse me for a minute. You.” She points at Tony, “Come with me.”
He gives her the best, most lavish smile he has and mumbles on the way out “Oh I love it when you're forceful.”
Pepper manages to keep her smile even when they are outside the door. “Tony when is the last time you cared about the budget for anything?”
“Um, how about since I've been trapped in a S.H.I.E.L.D. sinkhole and I have nothing, literally nothing, better to do.”
“Well these people, who run your company by the way, have no idea who this kid is,” She gestures to his body, “and why he is barging into a board meeting. Tony.” She sighs, but then she stops and looks at him. “What do you want?”
“I want to go home. All of the Avengers- they can stay with me if they need us in one spot that badly. But we're outta that base. And I want full access to all my stuff, R & D and my lab- Dummy's probably having a field day- my jet, my suit. Pep, do you realize that my suit is ruined? Remember when I flew into space and saved the city? Or when my team, you know, stopped an alien invasion? How about a little good will?” He is basically begging at this point, but the facts are true nonetheless.
“You seem to think that I am someone with a lot of pull over a government agency.” She has a wide eyed sarcastic face on now. “Look,” She says, anticipating his response, “you're going to have to work with them about letting you guys off the leash, but all your stuff is waiting for you when they do. Just... no more board meetings while you look like you should be in high school.”
~ : ~
Tony is back on base by eighteen hundred that night.
He uploads a virus that plays Shoot To Thrill through every available speaker any time a security card, passcode, or recognition system is used.
Tony sings with it every time it plays.
Natasha considers herself as having significant cause for murder.
~ : ~
The next day the Avengers are officially relocated to Stark Tower.
Natasha forgives Tony.
This time.
~ : ~
Thor has found this entire experience to be quite entertaining.
Though he is quite confused as to why they took Loki's toy away so quickly. His brother is a man of half truths, always.
It is true that once started the timer cannot be stopped and that if broken the change may be irreversible. However, the toy is just that, a toy, and is quite unbreakable except through magic. And most importantly, the timer may be shortened-
-to less than a day if it is so desired.
It is a shame that no one has sought his counsel.