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Tony Stark hadn't really thought it was a bad thing at first. Actually it could be doing him a favor. Sure, Trump cheated at golf, retained the names and faces of his golf partners no longer than required to exploit them, and had the attention span of a goldfish on speed, all of which Tony knew from personal experience. Plus, though he wasn't about to admit this to anyone else, there was some nagging little thought in the back of his head that he couldn't quite put his finger on. But the Donald was going to be the easiest one to buy yet. With the government off his back, Tony could get back to spending all his time on science and scotch and not going to therapy no matter how much certain people who didn't know how to mind their own damn business told him to.
Then the cracks started accumulating in the foundation.
One minute Trump had been talking about Stark Industries' revitalization efforts after the Battle of New York, and the next he was going on "...I don't even know where these Avengers come from. They're dangerous. And weird. We should deport the Avengers."
That had been followed by the second New York speech the next day, in which Trump claimed "the Avengers love me. They say 'Donald, this is great!'"
At this point Steve, who had been growing uneasy for months, sat down and very carefully, with at least five revisions and feedback from everyone he knew and trusted (a fairly short list considering his decades in the ice), wrote a cautiously worded but emotional editorial titled "This Isn't What I Fought For", published in the New York Times, in which he reminisced about the Howling Commandos, a diverse group brought together to fight for freedom and the greater good, and contrasted it with Trump's divisive statements and inability to admit when he was wrong. He also drew some careful, subtle parallels between Trump and the Axis leaders he had fought against, focusing on prejudice and demagoguery. And, almost as an afterthought, he mentioned that Trump had not contacted the Avengers to find out if they did, in fact, love him or think his call to deport various members was a great idea. Tony was impressed; if this whole Avenging thing didn't work out, maybe Steve could be a columnist, if there were any newspapers left.
The backlash had been immediate. Trump promptly tweeted out that "Only losers get frozen. I don't like losers. He followed that with a tweet telling "flag boy" to "shut up and get back to hitting" and then a few more where he, apparently offended by a quote Natasha had given Steve for his column, mentioned how Black Widow "on her knees would be a pretty picture" and other, cruder insinuations. Then he lost interest, because Steve wasn't on Twitter and, again, short attention span. But for that moment in the news cycle, it was unpleasant. Fox News had had a whole night devoted to coverage of "Kaptain Amerika" "selling out to that lefty rag." Protesters had shown up outside Stark Tower with posters reading "shut up and hit flag boy", some with the L crossed out.
Steve's reaction had been swift and total. Tony had always imagined if there was anything to shield you from bullshit criticism, it was a name like Captain Fucking America, but it appeared he'd been wrong. Steve now went on an incoherent crying jag at least once a day. Clint and Natasha followed him around quite a bit, occasionally tackling him when his wails got too loud, making a Captain America sandwich until he quieted down into merely wracking sobs.
For Tony, that wasn't half as frightening as what followed next.
Once Trump commenced his bromance with Putin, something deep and disturbing came over Natasha. Tony was fairly certain that was what had done it, despite Trump's previous remarks about her -- Natasha was used to taking sexual harassment, even when it came from her own team (and when Tony said "her own team" he meant "Tony"). That particular bullshit didn't seem to bother Natasha much, but now she'd gone straight past bothered into fuming. She stopped communicating with everyone other than Clint, and Clint she only texted. She spent all her waking hours staring at her phone, far more than required to send the occasional pissy text to Clint, and Tony strongly suspected she'd taken to commenting on HuffPo. She'd also taken to constantly swigging from a bottle of vodka, and while Tony had always wished he'd had a fellow Avenger who drank as much as he did, the reality was far less fun than the fantasy: Natasha never actually seemed drunk, just angry. Really, really angry. Far too angry for a person with unlimited top-shelf vodka at her disposal. (Tony had even tried a little experiment where he stocked the liquor cabinet with half top-shelf vodka and half rotgut, just to see if she would grab the first bottle she came to or reach behind for the good stuff. The experiment lasted all of two hours before Tony remembered he didn't keep cheap booze in his home on principle, and more importantly because he might accidentally drink it.)
Truth be told, Natasha's reaction scared him more than Steve's. Steve's heart had exploded into a million messy pieces weeping blood all over the floor. But Steve believed in the unerring decency of America, and soon enough something would happen to remind him of it: a squadron of veterans marching in a parade, a bunch of kids playing baseball in a sandlot, a firefighter rescuing a kitten from a tree. Tony didn't really believe in the unerring decency of America anymore -- he was a little too cynical to have ever believed in it, truthfully -- but he did believe in the unerring decency of Steve Rogers, even if he was a self-righteous goody-two-shoes pain in the ass. But Natasha's heart hadn't so much exploded as imploded, like a black hole turning in upon itself, leaving nothing behind but something small and dense and hard, something Tony didn't see how it ever could be fixed.
Even when he knew her as Natalie Rushman, Natasha had always scared Tony.
Bruce had had more experience than the rest with dealing with unpleasant rage-inducing emotions, and Tony had to admit he'd handled the stress like a champ by doubling up on his meditation and taking flights every weekend that Tony discreetly pretended he didn't know were to Amsterdam. Not that Tony gave a shit, but Bruce obviously did, or he would have just gone to Denver and spared himself the jetlag. Tony thought Bruce really needed to learn not to give a shit what other people thought of him, but then again, Tony thought that about everyone.
Clint took everything more in stride than everyone else put together; Tony suspected it was because he best of all the Avengers, except for maybe Natasha, knew how to go off the grid and not be found. Actually, Tony was starting to suspect Clint was Canadian. That would explain his apparent ability to not give a shit; he had Justin Trudeau, everyone's favorite new world-leader bae, what did he have to worry about? But his concern for Natasha was taking a toll: he had perpetual dark circles under his eyes from sitting up with her while she ignored him, and frequent hangovers from refusing to let her drink alone.
Things only got more complicated when Thor showed up for a visit. No one knew how to explain the tense political situation to the god of thunder in a way that wouldn't result in him showing up at Trump Tower to provoke an intergalactic incident, so his trip was on a strictly need-to-know basis. At least until he showed up with the baby brother from hell in tow, at which point it moved to nobody-needs-to-know basis.
To his credit, Thor had come alone first to sit down with Tony and get the all-clear. Something about the Asgardians were quite convinced that Loki had been under some form of Chitauri mind control involving that damn scepter during his last visit to Midgard that had interfered with his better judgment, and he was now stable enough to be allowed to interact with others under careful supervision, and without the scepter and an alien army he really wasn't anything Thor couldn't handle, and something something something let loose the god of mischief on a planet with 4chan and IP masking, Tony didn't know, he'd stopped listening because he'd realized that what Thor had really been told was you can't go play with your Midgardian friends unless you take your little brother with you, who cares what he does to those mortals because Thor's dad didn't actually give a shit what happened on other planets-- ahem, realms-- whatever, Thor's dad was an asshole and Tony could totally commiserate.
And then Thor had cleared his throat and Tony had realized he was waiting for an answer. "Um, sure, do what you gotta do, but you gotta clear it with the rest of the team, and tell Reindeer Games if he breaks anything he's answering to the big guy."
It was a great plan. Clint would be the bad guy and Thor wouldn't even be able to blame him for it. Tony congratulated himself on his own brilliance. He had almost finished patting himself on the back when Thor trooped back in with the rest of the team in tow, announcing "they said yes!"
Tony glared at Clint and blurted "What did he bribe you with?" He could have sworn Clint smirked back. Then Thor's face was falling and Tony was suddenly deciding he needed to go hang out in his lab and work on anti-magic technology until everyone had forgotten about this.
He was pretty sure he saw a shiny gold bow of probable Asgardian design on his sprint to the elevator.
By the time Tony emerged, Thor had returned with Loki and convened a house meeting. "Ah, Tony. You're just in time. My brother" – Loki glared at Thor, who appeared not to notice – "would like to say a few words to all of you." Thor turned to Loki with an expectant look on his face.
"I am very sorry for the damage I did to your fair city during my last visit. I was not quite in my right mind and I assure you it will not happen again," Loki recited, sounding rehearsed and not very sincere.
"And?" Thor prodded.
"Please don't hurt me." Loki suddenly sounded a good deal more sincere.
Thor started to say something, but was interrupted by a light smack on the back from Bruce. "I think that's good for starters. Good talk!"
Thor smiled. "Thank you, Bruce. Your warm welcome means a lot to me. Would you join my brother and myself for dinner? My treat, as you Midgardians say."
"Sorry, I've got a plane to catch. Bye!" Bruce sprinted out the door. Tony noticed he didn't have any luggage.
Luckily, the political situation was already so fraught that no supervillains seemed inclined to add fuel to the fire by attacking; Tony was able to keep the brothers Odinson sequestered in Stark Tower, aside from the Starbucks across the street which Tony politely pretended he didn't know was totally a SHIELD plant because sometimes he just wanted a Pumpkin Spice Latte, and the one afternoon where Darcy Lewis whisked Thor off to New York Comic Con and he came back beaming with all the compliments he'd gotten on his cosplay. More luckily, this time around the only thing Loki showed any interest in taking over was the tv lounge with the reclining Italian leather theater-style seating and custom-made 96-inch 4K OLED screen, where he was bingeing on Game of Thrones.
And eating all of Tony's salt and vinegar potato chips.
No one had ever messed with his salt and vinegar potato chips.
Stupid bag of cats.
The situation had only gotten more annoying when Loki had decided he needed to discuss his television habits with anyone in the vicinity. Tony had been trying to grab a cup of coffee in peace one morning when he'd heard a creepily familiar croon. "Stark, have you ever thought it unusual that you share a name with House Stark of Winterfell?"
He'd turned his head to find a god of lies sitting on his granite countertops fiddling with the espresso maker. "It's especially amusing because you're far more Lannister than Stark. Look at your metal suit, it's in Lannister colors."
Tony had slowly turned his head with an acid reply on his tongue, but Loki had already moved on. "Now the Captain, he's a born Stark." A bleary-eyed Steve looked up from his Cheerios at the sound of his name. "Honest and honorable--" Steve actually started to smile – "and naive and gullible--" Steve's face fell.
"Hey! You actually called him by his title!" Tony interrupted. "How come he gets his title?"
"Because Captain Rogers is the only one of you I don't fully expect to slit my throat in my sleep." That made Steve smile a little bit, and Tony frown.
"I'm gonna need an annotated ranking of how comparatively terrifying you find each of the Avengers, Rock of Ages. And if I'm any lower than tied for second, I'm also gonna need some tips on upping my game."
"Let me not keep you in suspense then, Stark. You're dead last."
"Last?" Tony hadn't been so offended since the year People forgot to give him even a token mention in their Sexiest Men Alive issue. "Why am I last?"
"That's for me to know and you not to find out." Loki smirked.
"So. Game of Thrones?" Bruce was playing peacemaker again.
Loki brightened. "Tyrion's my favorite! He's clever!"
"Tyrion's everyone's favorite. You're not special." Natasha didn't even look up from her phone. It was the first English Tony had heard her speak in months.
Tony couldn't decide if the look on Loki's face meant he was about to lash out with insults or just crap himself in panic. He was pretty sure Loki was terrified of Natasha. Granted, probably everyone should be terrified of Nat; she knew twenty-three ways to kill a person with a paper clip. Instead he managed to squeak out "I suppose I expected Arya to be your favorite?"
Natasha considered it, then raised her vodka bottle in a silent salute. Loki nodded, then made a beeline out of the kitchen. Maybe he did need to change his pants. Thor muttered a polite excusal and headed after him.
The kitchen went quiet, until Clint said, almost to himself, "Maybe he is getting better."
"Better? What would posseOWWWW--" Natasha had made it clear that the p-word was never to be mentioned around Clint, and that went quadruple when Loki was involved. Tony rubbed his shin where Natasha had just kicked it. She smirked. Clint seemed not to notice. "What would make you say that?"
Clint shrugged. "All I'm saying is, he didn't pick Littlefinger as his favorite."
"He smells less crazy," Bruce added. "Last time he was here he smelled like destruction and insanity. This time around he just smells like he used too much Axe or something."
"People are bringing Axe in my tower?" Tony fumed. "This is not okay. I'm gonna have to make house rules for my damn freeloader roommates."
Tony was still annoyed later that day when Loki came by and explained he'd finished Game of Thrones, and did Stark have anything else that might be of interest? Tony had handed him unmarked DVDs of My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic. Shortly thereafter, Tony thought he heard raised voices from the direction of the tv lounge.
"JARVIS. Get me audio from the tv lounge."
"I believe it's considered rude to eavesdrop upon one's guests, sir."
"And I believe it's also considered rude to sass one's employer."
"Very well, sir." Seconds later the audio came through.
"It is unseemly, brother!" Thor thundered. "This is an entertainment for young girls! I saw some of the grown men who watch it in the Hall of Dealers and they were most unsavory."
"I do what I want, Thor!" Seconds later singing ponies blasted through the feed and Tony yelled at JARVIS to kill the audio. So Asgardian hissy-fits were yet another thing that wasn't nearly as much fun as it sounded. Life was full of disappointments.
But at the end of the day, Thor and Loki being around meant that someone was challenging Steve to Mario Kart races and Clint to Pop-Tart eating contests and anyone who was interested to "sparring" (even with his suit, it gave Tony a headache) and if Tony had to give up his tv lounge and a considerable percentage of his peace of mind to make that happen, well, then, that was a price he was willing to pay.
He wished his money and his brains and his influence could do something to comfort his friends or even just distract them for a little while. But they couldn't. So he supposed having Thor around to do it was the next best thing.
But still, the last thing he needed was Thor getting involved with any of this unfortunate political situation. To that effect, Tony had pulled Thor aside and explained to him, under an oath of utmost secrecy, that recently Captain America and Black Widow had had an ill-fated affair that had ended poorly. They were both taking it badly, and any crying jags (on Steve's part) or property destruction (on Natasha's part) was both out of the ordinary and very much something that was not up for discussion.
And it would have worked too, if only Thor had kept it to himself.
Tony wasn't even sure which straw finally broke the camel's back; he'd stopped paying attention to the news, because someone in the tower had to keep it together and if everyone else had decided to rely on him, then they were really in trouble but he would do his best. All he knew was one day in October he came in from his lab to find chaos.
Steve was curled up on the floor in the fetal position wailing like a lost two-year-old. A few feet away, Bruce sat in the lotus position, trying to breathe deeply and mostly failing. Clint knelt between the two, awkwardly patting Steve's shoulder with one hand and Bruce's back with the other. And Natasha had fished all the vodka empties out of the recycling and was chucking them across the room at the window. Luckily Tony had invented a new type of reinforced glass after the last time he went through that window, but Natasha was running out of bottles and there was no telling what she would start throwing next.
Luckily Tony never found out because the Asgardians picked that moment to return from shopping. Loki dropped his latte and turned on Thor. "So these are the fine upstanding citizens you said I should try to emulate?"
Thor whispered something in Loki's ear.
And then Loki threw his head back and started to laugh. Hysterically.
Steve stopped wailing. Natasha stopped throwing. Both stared at Loki. The only sound in the room was his unhinged laughter.
Tony muttered "am I the only one who still knows how to use their words?" Then he yelled, "Hey! Rock of Ages! What's so funny?"
"Thor has just told me the most ludicrous lie!"
"I am not lying to you, brother!"
"Oh, I know you believe you're telling the absolute truth," Loki said with a dismissive wave. Tony noticed that for once he didn't glare at Thor for calling him "brother." "But what kind of god of lies would I be if I couldn't recognize one that obvious when I heard it?"
"What is he talking about, Tony?" Tony tried to inconspicuously check his wrists. Thor looked pissed.
"Oh – ehehehehe... Of course it was Stark who told you. Rogers and Romanoff didn't, and Barton and Banner wouldn't."
"What is he talking about, Tony?" Bruce echoed, trying to sound calm and failing.
"For unknown reasons, Stark told Thor that Rogers and Romanoff had an ill-starred liaison." Loki looked like he wanted to snort in derision but thought it beneath his dignity. "As if that would ever happen. The Captain is too chivalrous, and Romanoff is far too shrewd."
Great. Now everyone in the room was giving Tony the stink-eye. Like it wasn't his damn room or something. His whole damn tower... Well, almost everyone. Loki had recovered his composure but his eyes were darting around in what Tony suspected was his someone's-in-trouble-and-it-isn't-me expression. Tony had preferred the laughter.
"We're waiting, Tony," Clint said.
Tony sighed. No getting out of it, then. "Thor, you remember when I told you that we don't have kings here, we elect our leaders?"
"I think so. It sounded daft, so I didn't pay attention."
"Well. We're about to do that again, beginning of next month, and one of the choices... Well. He's said or done something to upset almost everyone in the country who doesn't agree with him... women, immigrants, Muslims, and he doesn't like the Avengers either. He said we were weird and should have to leave the country. And he said some particularly mean things about Steve and Natasha, because they weren't afraid to disagree with him."
"Get to the point, Tony," Clint said, his voice cold. "He called Steve a loser. Called Nat a whore."
"A loser?" Thor looked perplexed. "I thought Steve was the symbol of your realm. That makes no sense."
"Nothing seems to make sense anymore, buddy. Hopefully it'll all be over soon, but..." Tony shrugged. "We were all just so tired of dealing with it, and you were visiting, and I didn't want you to worry because there's nothing you can do about it anyway..." Or nothing that wouldn't get us in trouble with the Secret Service, he thought to himself.
"I still don't understand any of this."
"I guess I could show you. JARVIS? Fox News, onscreen."
"You told me to disable that channel, sir."
"Well, re-able it. We're giving Thor a civics lesson."
"Speaking of giving..." Thor seemed to have returned completely to his usual sunny demeanor. He never stayed angry long; it was probably the sole reason he could still stand to be around Loki. "We found you a host-gift at the meadhouse by the Starbucks." He pulled a bottle from his knapsack and set it in front of Tony. "It is from the realm of Cuba. I understand it has not been for sale in this country for many a year. And how often can I present Tony Stark with a drink he has not already had? Now that you've tried what Asgard has to offer, that is."
"Thanks, Thor." Tony took the bottle gratefully. Not many people made the effort to surprise him, figuring he couldn't be surprised anymore. "And your timing is perfect, because we're gonna need drinks to get through this." He opened the bottle and took a big sniff--
--And suddenly, he was a kid again. Four? Five? Bruce was always telling him scent was the sense most associated with memory. He was a kid, and that liquor was on his dad's breath, leaning over--
"Tony, this is some nasty shit," Howard Stark had said with a swig. "But I gotta finish the whole damn thing, because that asshole isn't going to give me any peace till it's all gone and I've told him how great it is, wonderful, just the best." It had been some sort of bigwigs cocktail party, then. Howard woozily nodded in the direction of a loud young man with messy hair across the room. "He doesn't know the first thing about it, other than it's illegal here, so of course he wanted to show off that he could get it. That he doesn't care if he's supposed to have it or not, or if it's even worth having, just that he has it and no one else does. Let me tell you something, Tony." Howard had grabbed his shoulder and looked him in the eye. "You're special. You're special because you're smart, I can already tell, and just between you and me, you're special because you're my son." He had said that? How had Tony ever forgotten this? "But anyone who ever tells you you're special just because you have money, watch out, because they're trying to take you for a sucker. Money doesn't make you special. It can't buy brains, or class, or peace of mind--"
And then Tony was yanked back to the present day by the din of Fox News.
Trump was on, live. Of course he was.
It appeared to Tony to be some sort of press conference -- and then the onscreen showed a grainy picture of Thor in a hoodie. The hoodie he was wearing right now, in fact.
Oh, shit.
"What do you have to say about the reports that Thor was seen in a Manhattan liquor store today?"
"What is the deal with the Avengers, anyway?" Trump began, and Tony could tell he was just winding up. Tony hadn't thought anyone in the world could be more in love with the sound of their own voice than he himself was, but here Trump was proving him wrong. "I mean, they're here, then they're not here, what if we need 'em and Thor's screwing around in a liquor store? Very unprofessional. And I should know. I am very professional. We should cut their funding."
"So I guess he doesn't realize the Avengers Initiative is pretty much funded by Stark Industries," Clint said. "How does that make you feel, Tony?"
"Shut it, bird-brain."
"I'm gonna get rid of the Avengers and replace them with something better," Trump continued on the television. I'm gonna have all the best people working on it, just the smartest people, and we're gonna have something better."
"Can you tell us any details about that?" a reporter asked.
"It's gonna be tremendous. Just hyuuuge."
"What is that... thing on his head?" Loki asked.
"Proof that silly hats aren't the sole province of Asgard," Tony replied.
"My helmet is neither a hat, nor is it silly," Thor said, self-consciously patting his head with one hand while gesturing toward Loki with the other. "Now his? His is exceedingly silly."
Tony waited for the snide reply, but heard nothing. He looked at Loki. Loki was staring intently at the screen, fingers steepled.
Oh, shit.
He's found the loophole, Tony thought frantically. No scepter? No problem. Loki could probably take over Trump's mind with a laser pointer. He was going to whammy Trump and then he'd take over and they'd be right back where they started, only worse --
--And then Loki scowled and gestured, almost lazily, at the television.
Trump's hair twitched.
Tony didn't catch it at first; he was too busy quietly panicking. But both Natasha and Clint saw it. Clint gestured to draw the others' attention.
Trump's hair twitched again.
Then it opened one eye.
"That looks like a--"
"Honey badger?" Loki supplied.
"Yes, but they don't even come in that color," Bruce said.
Loki preened. "I do not answer to your mortal taxonomies."
"But why a honey badger?" Clint asked.
"Because, as you Midgardians are so fond of ungrammatically saying, 'honey badger don't care.'"
The honey badger lifted its head. Trump apparently had not noticed; he was still ranting. The camera operator had, however; the picture zoomed in on Trump's head.
"Is it foaming at the mouth?" Bruce asked.
"Yes, that is what animals with rabies do."
And then the honey badger looked down at the creature it was sitting on.
And that was when it attacked.
"And that's why the Aveng-- EEEEEEEEK!!" Trump began screaming and flailing his arms as the honey badger swooped down onto his face in a flurry of claws and teeth and foaming spittle. "Help! It's -- owww!! -- a conspiracy! This interview is rigged! Vlad, help!" There was a crash and the camera jerked back; Trump had kicked over the podium in the commotion. Trump's eyes -- well, eye; the other one was swollen shut and bleeding -- focused on the camera. "Don't just stand there, you fucking idiot! Do something! Owwwww!! You're terrible! You're fired! You're all fired, Fox News! You're--"
The entire feed was replaced by a color bar test pattern. "I'll be damned," Tony said. "I didn't think they still used those."
The rest of the Avengers were silent, almost awestruck. Steve had a guilty little smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Natasha was burying her face in Clint's shoulder and quaking; Tony couldn't tell if it was with sobs or laughter. Above her, Clint exchanged grins with Bruce. And Thor was gazing at Loki with unbridled joy.
"Brother, you--"
"Don't make it a thing, Thor."
"You know what? I think we should make it a thing." Tony jumped up. "Fire up the quinjet, Clint, I'm thinking we all need ice cream. You too, Bambi. There's this great little village on an Italian mountainside that has the best damn gelato..." And no satellite reception. Tony did not want to have to explain any of this to Nick Fury.
Then again, the only thing he'd ever heard Fury say about Trump was "motherfucker cheats at golf." Maybe Fury wouldn't mind so much.