Chapter Text
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Tony Stark POV
I flop down on the couch, sighing heavily, the weight of the day pressing into me like a sledgehammer. Twelve hours of tinkering on the suit had drained me dry, and for once, I wasn’t in the mood to tinker, banter, or even argue with anyone. Just peace and quiet, thank you very much.
"Jarvis, turn on the TV," I mumble, throwing an arm over my eyes as if that might block out the nagging ache in my skull.
"What channel would you prefer, sir?"
"Dealer’s choice." I hear the faint hum of the television coming to life. The steady murmur of voices fills the room, nothing but white noise to my ears.
For a while, I let it run in the background, zoning out entirely, until something—no, someone—grabs my attention. A name flashes on the screen.
Thor.
I lift my arm just enough to crack one eye open, already smirking. "Oh, this is going to be good."
The narrator drones on about Norse mythology, throwing around words like "Mjölnir," "Asgard," and "God of Thunder." I snort. The image they’ve chosen for him? A strapping blonde guy, all muscles and lightning. Close enough, I guess. Still, it’s a sanitized version. Thor probably loves it.
But then, there it is—his name.
Loki.
The smirk drops off my face.
I sit up straighter, the ache in my muscles forgotten. My fingers twitch over the remote, tempted to turn it off, but something stops me. Curiosity, maybe. Or the faint memory of the last time that particular god graced this tower with his delightful presence.
The screen changes, showing an old illustration of Loki with his mouth sewn shut.
"Jarvis, turn up the volume," I say, my voice sharper than I intend.
The narrator explains Loki’s penchant for shapeshifting, the peculiar tale of him mothering a horse, and his infamous children—the wolf Fenrir, the world serpent Jörmungandr, and Hel.
I lean back, running a hand down my face as I digest the bizarre details. Shapeshifting? Horse kids? Sewing his mouth shut? Whoever wrote this mythology was either high or had met the real Loki.
The TV keeps blaring, but I’ve stopped listening. My mind’s already spiraling, recalling the chaos Loki left in his wake the last time he was here. The destruction. The mind control. The battle scars.
And yet... something nags at me. A sense of unease I can’t shake.
I kill the TV and head for the kitchen, where Nat’s downing water like she’s been in a desert for three days.
"Hey," I greet, grabbing a bottle for myself.
"Rough day?" she asks, glancing at me briefly before returning to her water.
"Something like that," I reply, twisting off the cap. Just as I’m about to take a sip, the building rumbles.
I sigh, already knowing what—or who—is responsible.
"Of course. Because why wouldn’t this day get better?"
I cap the bottle and make my way back to the living room. Sure enough, standing in the middle of the room is Point Break himself.
But he’s not alone.
Standing slightly behind Thor, half-hidden in the shadows, is Loki.
I blink, caught off guard. For a moment, I’m not sure what shocks me more: Loki’s presence or the fact that he looks... different.
The Loki I remember was all swagger and smirks, sharp words and sharper knives. This Loki is quieter, his posture tense, his eyes flickering between the floor and the walls as if he’s avoiding looking at any of us. And then there are the bruises—dark smudges on his pale skin, barely concealed by his armor.
"What, did you pick him up off the side of the road?" I quip, trying to mask my unease with sarcasm.
Thor strides toward me, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "Man of Iron, there is no need for hostility. My brother is here under my protection."
"Your brother tried to kill me," I remind him, my gaze darting to Loki, who flinches at the words but says nothing.
"That was in the past," Thor says firmly.
I arch an eyebrow. "And what’s the excuse this time?"
Thor hesitates, glancing back at Loki before answering. "He is... banished. By Odin’s decree. He will remain here on Midgard under my watch."
"Banished," I repeat, the word tasting strange in my mouth.
"Yes. It is a punishment fitting his crimes."
I laugh, though there’s no humor in it. "Right. Because sticking him in a tower full of people who already hate him is a great idea."
Thor frowns. "Man of Iron—"
"Don’t call me that," I snap, cutting him off. I turn to Loki, who still hasn’t spoken a word. "And you. What’s your game this time? Because I’m not falling for it."
Loki meets my gaze for the first time, his green eyes dull and tired. "I have no game," he says quietly. "I am here because I have nowhere else to go."
The room falls silent, his words hanging heavy in the air.
Thor steps forward, his expression softening. "He is no longer the Loki you knew, Stark. He is my brother, and I will see to it that he does no harm."
I stare at them both, my mind racing. This isn’t the reunion I expected, and it’s throwing me off my game.
Nat chooses that moment to walk in, her sharp eyes taking in the scene.
"What’s going on?" she asks.
"Thor brought a guest," I say dryly, gesturing to Loki.
Her gaze shifts to the younger god, narrowing as she takes in his appearance. "You’ve got to be kidding me," she mutters.
Thor raises his hands in a placating gesture. "I assure you, he means no harm—"
"Yeah, because that worked out so well last time," I cut in.
The rest of the team starts filtering in, drawn by the commotion. Steve, Bruce, Clint—each of them reacts differently. Steve looks wary, Bruce nervous, and Clint... well, Clint just looks pissed.
"What the hell is he doing here?" Clint demands, his hand already hovering near his weapon.
Thor steps in front of Loki, his expression hardening. "He is here because he has no other home. He is under my protection, and I will not allow harm to come to him."
"Since when are we running a godly halfway house?" I mutter, earning a sharp look from Steve.
"Enough," Steve says, his tone brooking no argument. He looks at Loki, who’s gone back to staring at the floor. "Is this true? You’re banished?"
Loki nods once, barely a movement.
"And you’re not here to cause trouble?"
"I have no intention of causing trouble," Loki says softly.
The tension in the room doesn’t lessen, but no one moves to throw him out either.
"Fine," Steve says at last. "But if he steps out of line, he’s gone."
Thor nods, relief evident on his face. "You have my word."
I cross my arms, glaring at Loki. "You’d better not make me regret this."
Loki meets my gaze again, and for the first time, I see something in his eyes that I didn’t expect—regret.
"Believe me," he says quietly, "I regret enough for both of us."
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The tension in the room hangs heavy, thick enough to cut with a knife. No one looks particularly thrilled about the new houseguest, least of all me, but Thor is as immovable as a brick wall when it comes to his “brother.”
"Fine," I say through gritted teeth, pinching the bridge of my nose. "But if he so much as breathes wrong, he’s out."
Thor nods solemnly, his hand still resting protectively on Loki’s shoulder. Loki, for his part, doesn’t react at all. No snide remark, no smirk—just a blank stare and a posture so tense it looks like he’s waiting to be struck.
"Guess we’re playing host to royalty now," I mutter under my breath, turning on my heel. "Jarvis, prep one of the guest rooms. Far from mine. Or anyone else's for that matter."
"Right away, sir."
Thor looks relieved, which only irritates me more. "Come on, Point Break. Let’s get your ‘brother’ settled before anyone changes their mind."
The rest of the team disperses reluctantly, their eyes lingering on Loki as if they expect him to explode at any second. Clint mutters something under his breath about keeping his arrows close, and even Steve looks less than thrilled.
Thor gently guides Loki toward the hallway, but I stop them with a raised hand.
"Not so fast," I say, stepping closer. I point a finger at Loki, who finally lifts his gaze to meet mine. "There are rules. No sneaking around, no magic tricks, and no turning into animals or whatever it is you do. Got it?"
Loki’s lips twitch, like he’s considering a response, but instead, he just nods. It’s unsettling, how quiet he is.
"Good." I motion for them to follow me.
The guest room Jarvis selects is one of the smaller ones. Nothing fancy, just a bed, a desk, and a view of the city that would make most people drool. But Loki doesn’t seem to notice any of it.
"This is it," I announce, leaning against the doorframe. "Don’t get too comfortable."
Thor frowns at my tone but says nothing, stepping inside to inspect the room. Loki lingers in the doorway, his eyes darting around like he’s expecting a trap.
"I shall ensure he is settled," Thor says, his booming voice a poor attempt at cheerfulness.
"Knock yourself out," I reply, already turning to leave.
I take one last look at our new Resident Evil. I shake my head in disbelief, mostly at myself for letting him stay but the rest at Thor who just can't seem to grasp that his brother is a bad person/ God thing.