Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Hey, guys," Sam calls, stumbling through the rubble of what was left of Sokovia. "Where is she?"

The realization dawns on Steve suddenly. He left you on the Quinjet. You were still on the Quinjet. The Quinjet that Hulk just took off in. "Nat, when you say Bruce took off..."

Nat claps a hand over her mouth, "Oh my God."

"Guys," Sam calls again, this time with more urgency. "Where is she?"

Steve turns to Sam with a morose expression. "I'm so sorry, Sam."

Sam gulps, jumping to the worst conclusions, "No, no, she's fine. She was hurt, but you said you were-"

"I did," Steve immediately replies, "I didn’t mean that she’s- she’s alive.”

“But?”

“But I put her on the jet, Sam," Steve explains, his voice hollow yet thick with guilt. "To - to keep her safe while she was passed out. I left her on the jet."

"You left her alone?" Sam bitterly accuses.

"The team, they needed me. I thought she'd be safe there, out of harm's way."

"Where's the jet now, Steve?" Sam demands.

"Bruce - Hulk, actually, is with her. He's flying the jet."

Sam helplessly clutches his damaged wing, unable to take off and look for the jet. "The Hulk is flying the Quinjet right now? Are you kidding me?"

"Nat's tapping into their comms right now. Who knows Pinkie Pie might be up and piloting her way back here as we speak!" Tony offers in an attempt to console him. 

"Because we're just always that lucky," Sam sarcastically retorts. He shakes his head, doing his best to remain confident and optimistic for your return, "It's okay, it's alright. You know, we just need to find the jet. We can find them and all this will be over."

"I'm in," Nat announces.

"So where are they?"

"He's flying in stealth mode."

Sam angrily groans, "Of course he is."

"Hey, big guy. You did it. Job's finished. Now, I need you to turn this bird around, okay? We can't track you in stealth mode."

Natasha hears a loud clang of Hulk's heavy fist against the console. She flinches at the sound. "I know you're hurt but your friend is back there and she needs you right now. Please."

Another loud smash of Hulk's fist causes the screen to flicker in and out.

Sam takes over, grabbing Nat's wrist and shouting into the little hologram screen, "Bruce, I swear to God, you bring her back. You hear me, you bring your ass back here right now!"

The screen flickers for an even longer moment, Nat turns to Sam with a remorseful look, "Sam, we’re about to lose all communication."

Sam turns to Tony with a pleading, frantic expression, "Tony, there's gotta be something we can do. Pull them out of stealth mode! Go after them! Do something!"

"I'm trying!" Tony frustratedly exclaims. "If I could do that it wouldn't be much of a stealth mode would it?"

"Tony...."

"Romanov, buy me some more time, keep him talking," Tony orders.

"Come on, big guy, pl-" Nat's words are abruptly cut off with a blank screen.

Sam's eyes flash over to Natasha, "What just happened? Nat, what just happened?"

"He just shut us off."

"Now what?"

"They could be anywhere."

You sigh to yourself, sitting in the same crowd of people that you do everyday, watching as they chatter amongst themselves, betting on the lives of the warriors in the arena.

"Someone's come through the portal," another person chimes in, their voice brimming with excitement.

You rest your chin in your hand, always feeling the tinge of guilt at another unwilling participant for the Contest of Champions. They never lasted long.

You don't get a chance to try to commit the next unfortunate person's face to memory before you're called back to your duty.

"Oh, Sunny!"

You bite back your sigh of irritation and plaster on your widest grin. "Yes?"

"Do that trick for us again." It's a thinly veiled order behind a giant smile and a condescending laugh. You have no choice but to obey, while they clap, laugh, and taunt you.

You can hear the vague outline of the Grandmaster's normal speech to those entering Sakaar. You've heard it time and time again. Most were doomed to fight in the Grandmaster's twisted contest. You were considered one of the lucky ones.

You always hoped that every person would be 'lucky'. Luck had a strange definition in a place like this. In a place like this, anything was better than a death for the vain entertainment of others. At least you were alive for the vain entertainment of others.

You hear the familiar speech wind down, you're all about to find out the fate of Sakaar's newest arrival when you finally hear the voice of the new arrival, a voice far too familiar.

The flame in your hand suddenly extinguishes as your head snaps up, "Loki?"

His gaze snaps toward the sound of your voice. He sighs deeply, still tightly strapped to his chair, "This day just keeps getting better."

"You two know each other?" the Grandmaster asks, amusement lighting up his face.

"He tried to kill my friends once."

The Grandmaster raises his executing staff at him, "So he's no good?"

"No, no!" you quickly backtrack. And though there's a part of you that seriously questions why you're helping him after everything he'd done, you know you couldn't live with yourself if you didn't at least try to save him. "He's my friend's brother. He's, well... he's Loki."

"Loki..." the Grandmaster hums. "Sunny, can he fight?"

"No!" you quickly reply, much to Loki's distaste.

Loki scoffs, "I beg your pardon."

"He can't fight, Grandmaster. Not at all. It's kind of sad."

"I-" Loki tries to interject.

You steamroll over his words, laying your words thick for the two of them. You gently nudge Loki's restrained shoulder, "He's a total wimp, but he's a delight though. Really! Almost as funny as I am!"

"Hmm..." the Grandmaster audibly thinks. "Alright, you've made a compelling case. He can stay, but, Sunny, you're responsible for him."

You bite back a cringe, "You won't regret this," you call after him, biting back a cringe. You whisper to yourself as you look back towards Loki, "But I might."