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Chapter Text

Footsteps echoed throughout the hallowed halls of the palace of Asgard. Two guards walked in step with a man between them, bound at the wrists and with a metal muzzle around his face. Behind them, a hulking man with a scarlet cape followed, head bowed and shoulders tense. The man in the middle of the guards kept his emerald gaze determinedly forward, chin high as though he were being led to his execution, and for all he knew, he could be.

          The guards led the two men to a large set of golden doors, inlaid with swirling knots. The doors opened to a great throne room, dark and unforgiving despite its open atmosphere and solid gold interior. They walked towards the large, intricate throne where Odin, the King of Asgard, watched as two of his guards brought forth his son like a prisoner. Odin rose, looking down on him with disappointment.

          “Loki, what have you done?” he asked, walking down the steps to the trickster as his other son, Thor, watched carefully. “You unleashed chaos and ruin on a realm that did not deserve it. You killed innocent beings and destroyed their city. Why?”

          Loki could not answer, his words rendered silent. He stared up at the Allfather, eyes sharp and unforgiving. There was a heavy silence. Thor walked around his brother to stand near his father, looking at Loki with pleading eyes, begging him to repent. Instead, all he received was a cold glare with no hint of love from the fallen prince that he had once possessed. It didn’t even seem to be his brother anymore.

“Because of all you have tried to do; bring forth the destruction of Jotunheim as well as attempting to conquer Midgard and slaying hundreds of innocent beings, Jotun and Midgardian, I now take from you your power,” Odin said, raising a hand to his fallen son. “May this punishment serve as your lesson.”

Loki’s eyes widened in shock and he struggled under the vice-like grips of the guards that held him. Fear flooded through him like ice in his veins, tendrils curling around his heart. His eyes flashed to Thor, who refused to look at him now, jaw clenched and hands fisted at his sides. Loki wanted to speak, to plead with the man he once called father, but no words would pour from his silver tongue, trapped behind a muzzle like a dog.

          The air crackled around them as Odin drew Loki’s power from his body. Loki’s muscles spasmed and his blood boiled. Everything was fire and ice and it felt as though his very essence was being torn from him. He screamed from behind the muzzle, tears forming in his eyes as his armor ripped from his body and his magic sparked, green light dancing in the throne room and bouncing off the metallic walls like lightning. The god’s knees buckled and he fell to the floor, the only thing supporting him the two guards holding his arms. This shouldn’t hurt. It didn’t hurt Thor like this when his power was taken away. But Loki was not Thor. He never would be.

          The chains suddenly exploded between Loki’s wrists. The god leapt to his feet as he felt Odin’s hold weaken, sending the guards that had bound him soaring through the air. They hit opposite walls with a sickening ‘crack’ that reverberated throughout the throne room. Loki jerked his head up and narrowed his eyes at Odin. The king took a step back, stunned at the power rolling off of Loki. The angry god raised his hands to take off the muzzle. The clasp in the back unhooked and Loki threw it off to the side, shattering it against a pillar.

          Instead of speaking to the Allfather, Loki turned his head to look at Thor, who stood rooted to the spot, eyes wide and fearful.

          “Know this, brother,” Loki spat, green eyes flashing with malice. “Should you try to drag me back to Asgard once more to have my power taken from me, I will never cease to rain terror on those you love on Midgard. Mark my words.” With that, Loki disappeared, leaving no trace of himself save for the two guards with cracked skulls and the shattered muzzle that was scattered across the floor, sparking with electricity.

          “It seems your brother is lost to us,” Odin said softly, staring at the spot Loki had stood.

          “He is lost to you,” Thor said, not looking at his father. “But there is still hope for me yet.” The thunder god walked out of the throne room, footsteps heavy and determined.

          Odin sighed, hating that it had come to this twisted battle between himself and his two sons. The king of Asgard turned his gaze to the heavens, mind battling itself to formulate the next plan of action. Loki was his son, by blood or no.

          But he must be stopped.

 

          Loki staggered when he landed on the roof of an eighty story office building. He felt like a ghost of his former self, drained and tired and utterly powerless. He collapsed on the hard surface; chest heaving as he tried to suck in air to his lungs, breath coming in gasps, heart pounding faster than it should against his ribcage. Everything hurt. His limbs felt as if they were lead and his bones felt as brittle as glass. He rolled over, wincing as he moved across the rough concrete. His armor was gone, nothing left but leather pants, his boots, and his green and black tunic. He cast his eyes looked towards the sky.  

          It was night. The sky was black and dark, but below millions of lights shined towards the heavens. Loki looked around as he tried to slow his heartbeat, his breathing the only sound permeating the air from this altitude. He was in the same city he had tried to conquer once before, alive with lights that sparkled from thousands of skyscrapers like some sort of dream. Loki could see evidence of his actions, though, that left scars across the picture-perfect city: buildings had fallen on top of each other, skyscrapers with only half a side, steel support beams sticking out like broken bones, cards flipped, crushed, or just twisted into abstract chunks of metal. A thin layer of dust coated everything, making it appear matte and antique. 

          The god made no effort to move any more, staying splayed out across roof. Maybe he could just rest here. No one would notice him from this height. But then again, if anyone were to find him he’d be helpless to escape or defend himself. Loki sighed, struggling to lift himself up. He slowly turned himself over and wobbled to his feet, feeling the blood in his head rush to his toes and he swayed, not liking the height of the building at all. He tried to work a simple translocation spell to place him on the street below, but he barely felt a disturbance in the air around him.

          “Damn,” he cursed. He was stuck on top of the building. Loki looked around for anything to lean against. There was a large metal box near the middle of the roof. He stepped towards it, almost dragging his feet across the floor. It was cool under his touch. He slowly lowered himself down to sit against it, hissing at the pain. It would take a few hours to muster the energy to perform even a simple glamour. He might as well rest and regenerate what power he could.

          With that thought, Loki slipped into a light, uncomfortable sleep, resting against an air conditioning unit on top of a building in New York City.

 

If there was one thing to say about Tony Stark, it was that he kept a good eye on his projects.

There were currently hundreds of men in Stark Tower cleaning, rebuilding, and installing. Tony had a set of plans sprawled out on a table before him in his living room. Each floor was drawn with intricate detail, notes in the margins that only Tony could read. This had to be perfect.

“Hey, you,” Tony said, not looking up from the plans as he motioned one of the project supervisors, currently sipping at his paper cup of coffee, to come to him. “What’s the progress looking like on the remodeling of levels eighty-six through ninety?”

“Progress is swift. All the rooms are remodeled and painted. We should be installing appliances and lighting soon,” he answered. Tony nodded approvingly.

“Keep up the good work,” he said, waving the man off. The supervisor frowned, not having been actually looked at once through the entire conversation, and walked away, heading towards the elevator to check on his building team. Tony lowered his hand to the table and tapped the plans once. The floors contracted into small squares on the sheet, each with a symbol on them. Tony flicked through each one, stopping on a square with a shield on it. He tapped it and looked at the blueprints as they expanded across the mat. Certain areas of the plans were green, while others pulsed white, as if pending. Suddenly a refrigerator on the right-hand side of the floor plan blinked and turned verdant, signaling its completion.

“JARVIS?” Tony asked, eyes raking through all of the appliances that had yet to be installed. “Is there any way we can speed this process up? I’d like the tower move-in ready ASAP.”

“May I remind you, sir, that your own suite still needs attending to?” Tony looked up from the plans to the mess of a living room. It had barely been touched since their run-in with Loki. There was even still a nice little imprint of the God in his floor courtesy of one big green rage monster. The shattered window was the only thing that had been fixed almost as soon as the battle was over- with bulletproof glass.

“We’ll get there when we get there,” Tony said, looking back down at Captain Rogers’ suite. “Steve’s living in a crappy apartment right now and I’d prefer to not let him live there any longer than he needs to.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tony tapped the upper right corner of the plans. Suddenly, everything on the sheet vanished, leaving a blank navy mat behind. Tony rolled it up and set it to the side, strolling over to the bar to pour himself a drink. He looked at clock on the wall as he opened a bottle of scotch. I was almost five o’clock.

“Nearly closing time, JARVIS,” Tony said, pouring scotch over the ice cubes he’d put in a crystal glass. “Why don’t you tell the boys down stairs to pack up. I’ve got an appearance to make.”

“Yes, sir.”

The appearance in question was a gala in honor of the Avengers saving New York City, or at least, keeping the damage to a minimum as a god ran amok with his space army. Director Fury had called them all into a conference room three days ago, sans Thor because he was playing babysitter back in Asgard with his little brother, and gave them the speech of their lives.

“You all better be on your best behavior at the gala,” Fury said. Tony didn’t miss the fact that everyone automatically looked at him. He’d attended more galas than anyone else in the room. Contrary to popular belief, he knew how to be good at a party. He just chose not to; reputation and all that.

“Be polite, act like the humble heroes you are. Don’t. Get. Cocky.” Again with the looks.

“We want the city to like you, especially since a quarter of the damage was your fault,” Fury went on. “If they like you, they’ll support you. If they don’t, S.H.I.E.L.D. is going to get a very big shit storm that I don’t want to deal with, so schmooze like your life depends on it. Make friends, offer to help out, whatever it takes to get on the public’s good side.”

“Why do I feel like we’ve been turned into prostitutes?” Tony piped up. Natasha raised her eyebrow at him from across the table and Steve shook his head, casting his eyes to the ceiling as if it could get Tony to shut up.

“Be the best damn prostitute you can be,” Fury retorted, turning to face the billionaire. “That should be easy for you, Stark.”

“Hey now, no need for that,” Tony said, putting his hands up in surrender. “I’ll play nice.” Fury stared at him for a long moment before looking away, eye looking over the other Avengers in the room.

“Enjoy yourselves. You deserve this ladies and gentlemen.”

Now it was almost three hours before the big shindig and as Tony took a sip from his glass he heard the elevator ‘ping’, signaling the arrival of none other than Pepper Potts, who clutched a brown box in one arm and dangled a black garment bag in the other.

“I have your tux for tonight as well as your shoes and those custom lapel pins you ordered,” she said as she rushed into the room. Pepper carefully laid the garment bag over the back of the couch and set down a small box on the coffee table. Tony picked it up, looking at it with interest before pulling off the tape and opening it to reveal its contents. Inside were six black velvet cases. Tony picked one of them up, feeling the soft velvet under his fingertips, before prying the lid of the case to reveal a small silver pin shaped like a capital ‘A’ nestled on top of white satin lining. Its surface reflected the light of the afternoon sun, winking at Tony like it had a secret.

“I think they’re very tasteful,” Pepper said, looking over Tony’s shoulder. “And not as flashy as I expected.”

“Not everything I own has to be flashy,” Tony argued. “Besides, I needed something to suit everyone’s tastes. Would you be a dear and have these delivered to everyone?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark,” Pepper said cheekily, picking up the box containing the pins.

“Thank you, Ms. Potts,” Tony countered, chuckling as Pepper shook her head, disappearing behind the elevator doors. Tony set his own lapel pin down and picked up the garment bag that contained his tuxedo.

“Well, time to suit up,” he said.

 

          All in all, it had been a good night. Everyone loved their pins, which made Tony happy, Steve managed to talk New York City’s finest into donating a large sum of money to the clean-up of the city, which made the citizens happy, and the mayor of NYC gave the Avengers team his full support, which made Fury happy.

          Now, the night probably would have gotten even better if it weren’t for the phone call they all received at three o’clock in the fucking morning.

          “Fury!” Tony roared, nearly passed out on his couch in his dark living room, still in his tuxedo. “What the hell is going on that you have to call me at-“ he looked at his watch- “three fifteen in the morning?!”

          “Can it Stark, I don’t have time for you this early,” Fury snapped, voice broadcasted throughout the room via JARVIS.

          “Neither do I. Does S.H.I.E.L.D. not sleep? What are you, fucking vampires? I knew there was something freaky about you people.”

          “Tony,” the inventor heard Steve say. It seemed that Fury had called all of the Avengers. “Loki has escaped.” Woah, hold the phone.

          “Excuse me?” Tony asked, sitting up slowly. “I thought Thor would have him nice and contained back up in ye old castle.”

          “Apparently there were…complications,” Fury said, tone not pleased in the least. “Thor suspects he’s returned to Earth. He’ll be weak, but no doubt seeking revenge.”

          “Well that’s just great,” Tony huffed, shrugging off his tuxedo jacket. “I just replaced the window in my living room.”

          “Just keep an eye out for any suspicious activity,” Fury said, ignoring Tony. “Thor will try and give us as much information as he can, and be careful. You’re all prime targets this time. Debriefing at 9 tomorrow in my office.” With that Fury disconnected, leaving a half-asleep Tony sitting awkwardly in his dark living room with his arms half in his tuxedo jacket sleeves.

          “Well, I was having a good night,” Tony sighed, taking his jacket fully off. “JARVIS, scan the area for any trace of Loki.”

          “No trace of the Asgardian prince within 100 miles, sir,” the AI stated. Tony took that as the O.K. to go back to bed. He unbuttoned his shirt on the way to his bedroom, arc reactor lighting his way with its soft blue glow. He threw his dress shirt off one way and his tie another, shucking off his pants before toeing off his shoes. The billionaire crawled under the sheets of his bed, out before his head hit the pillow.

 

          They assembled in Fury’s office at 9 o’clock in the morning the next day. Thor was already there when the rest of the team arrived. To be perfectly frank, he looked like shit.

          It seemed odd that a god could have bags under their eyes, but there Thor stood, looking like he hadn’t slept in weeks, blue eyes dark and distant, jaw permanently clenched. A muscle twitched in his cheek. He looked like he wanted to take Mjolnir to a mountain and crawl up in a corner at the same time.

          “I’d say good morning, but I’d rather stick to reality,” Fury said as he strolled in, walking straight to his desk. He sat down in his leather chair and steepled his fingers together, looking at each Avenger with his good eye. “If you were like Stark last night and was half asleep when I sent out the call, Loki has escaped Asgard.”

          No one looked surprised, meaning that they had all spent the night knowing that the maniac who had wreaked havoc in New York City was back. Tony looked like the only one who got any sleep.

          “Thor, what can you tell us about Loki’s escape?” Fury asked, looking to the god. Thor flicked his eyes up to look at the director, gaze hard.

          “My brother was taken to Odin a few days after we arrived on Asgard,” he began, arms crossed firmly across his chest. “My father attempted to take is power away from him. Something happened, something I cannot explain, and Loki escaped. I am sure he is back on Midgard, but he must be weak. Odin drained a portion of his power before Loki escaped, and traveling Yggdrasil without the aid of the Bifrost is strength consuming.”

          “So you’re saying he’s no threat right now,” Steve confirmed. Thor nodded.

          “I do not know how long it will take him to regain what he has lost,” Thor said. “But we must be prepared, find him before he can regain his power if we can.”

          Everyone looked at Thor. There was something unspoken, something he wasn’t telling them. Loki was a sensitive subject for him; that they all knew. No one knew the whole story behind their screwed up brotherhood and be damned if anyone asked. All anyone knew was the information in the gods’ files, which were pretty thin compared to the rest of them. Daddy issues, trying to take over the throne, jealousy- the usual, but nothing that really gave them the story they wanted.

          “Stark, can you develop some sort of scanner that can trace Loki’s magic signature?” Fury asked. Well, look who finally wanted Tony to develop technology for them.

          “I’m way ahead of you, Cyclops,” Tony said, leaning against a file cabinet. Tony had already created a semi-efficient scanner specifically locked onto Loki’s individual specs, which Tony analyzed after they sent the bastard home with the help of JARVIS. The ever faithful AI had run scans of the god while he was threatening Tony with his scepter. “All I have to do is expand the radius of the scanner and we’ll be good to go. I’ll have one on your doorstep by next Friday.”

          “See that you do,” Fury said, looking ready to strangle Tony for the Cyclops quip. Instead he focused his attention on the rest of the team.

          “Keep a sharp eye for any signs of trouble,” he said. “We’ll make sure his ass actually stays down this time. Dismissed.”

          Everyone paused for a moment before filing out the door, minds filled with thoughts of how they were to run their lives now that there was the threat of a vengeful god looming in the air. Tony saw Steve pat Thor on the arm before he left. Poor guy. He knew what it was like to have a messed up family, but he guessed Thor had him beat by quite a bit. He walked out the door, winking at Maria Hill, who rolled her eyes and looked back down at the tablet in her hands, before heading towards the elevator, catching it just before it went down with the rest of the Avengers team.

          “I don’t know what it’s looking like for us,” Steve said, hands in his pockets. Tony just shrugged, standing next to the wall between Bruce and Natasha.

          “We got him one time, we can do it again,” he said with certainty. “There are only so many hissy fits this guy can make before he’s permanently put in time out.”

          “Let’s keep him in the corner this time,” Natasha said, arms crossed across her chest. They all nodded, tense and ready to spring back into action.

          Avengers assemble again.

Chapter Text

          Where the hell this guy had come from was anyone’s guess, but Tony was more than a little pissed off that his target was flopping around in the water like a fish, too slick for him to get a good shot.

          “Who is this guy?” Tony heard Clint say over the comm. No one answered him. The foe in question was someone who was apparently part fish and had some issues with the pollutants that were contaminating the ocean. Damn hippies.

          “Hey, Flipper,” Tony called out, hovering above the Hudson river as everyone else watched, ready to attack behind the guard rails. “How about we take a chill pill for a second, maybe sing kumbaya?”

          “I am Namor, Prince of Atlantis, and I refuse to stand idly by while this city contaminates the waters of my home!”  Well fuck Tony sideways, another prince to deal with. It wouldn’t be so bad if the guy was setting up a peaceful protest in Central Park. Instead he was shooting high-pressured water at nearby factories and endangering the lives hundreds of people.

          “Okay, your highness, let’s take a moment to talk about this,” Tony said, waiting for the guy to stay still just long enough to shoot his repulsor at him. He could feel the tension behind him as the rest of his team watched behind the railing on the nice, solid ground. They really needed to learn to fly. Maybe that would be Tony’s next project. If only Thor would suck it up long enough to be out here with the rest of the team instead of hanging around S.H.I.E.L.D. as he tried to locate his brother.

          “Your factories pollute the waters of this world,” Namor said, finally ceasing his little water ballet. “I am here to put an end to it.”

          “Right, well good luck with that buddy,” Tony said, just before firing a shot right at Namor’s head. The sub-mariner leapt out of the water, soaring through the air. He could fly too? Yup, Tony’s next project was jetpacks for everyone.

          Cap threw his shield at Namor just as Clint fired an arrow. The arrow bounded off the star of the shield and exploded right in the Atlantian’s face. With a scream he fell from the sky, caught just in time by Tony, who would much rather see this guy choke on “the waters of his home”. Namor struggled in his grasp, but to no avail.

          “Okay, cuff him and take him,” Tony said, shoving the guy towards Steve once he landed on the sidewalk. Steve bound Namor’s hands behind his back, the cuffs sending small electrical jolts throughout his body, acting like a miniaturized, subdued taser. He wouldn’t be attacking any more factories any time soon.

          “Let’s go, pal,” Clint said, tugging their captive along.

          “I am not some common prisoner. Unhand me surface-dweller!” Namor exclaimed. His protests fell on deaf ears as S.H.I.E.L.D. agent swarmed the area, taking the prince away from Steve.

          “Well that was weird,” Natasha commented once the agents had taken off, watching an armored truck cart Namor away.

          “Definitely on the list of stranger things we’ve encountered,” Bruce agreed, who hadn’t even hulked out through the entire mess; something about only using the other guy when he was needed. No one argued with him.

            “Do you think he’s really from Atlantis?” Steve asked. “He seemed like some kind of whack-job to me.” Everyone shrugged. The bad guy was taken care of. It was time to get on to more pressing matters.

          “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a scanner to perfect,” Tony said just before taking off, flying towards Stark Tower. He watched as his team shrank into tiny dots, Tony ascending the sky. Flying seemed almost second hand at this point, an advanced form of walking.

          The flight to Stark Tower didn’t take long, and soon Tony was walking down his runway as his machines picked his Iron Man suit off of him in pieces, leaving their creator in a sleek, black body suit.

          “JARVIS,” Tony said, walking into his living room. “Any calls unworthy of my time go straight to voicemail. Don’t disturb me unless Loki’s going Godzilla on Manhattan.”

          “Yes, sir,” JARVIS said. “All calls will be diverted and stored for later consideration.”

          Tony changed into a pair of dark-colored jeans and a navy t-shirt before shutting himself in his second workshop, his home away from home as the one in Malibu was on the other side of the country. One by one fluorescent lights flickered on as Tony walked across the concrete floor.

          “Wakey, wakey,” he said, snapping at the large screens stationed on the semi-circle-shaped desk that was in the middle of the large room. They blinked on simultaneously, ready to perform at the hands of their master. Tony slid into his rolling chair, grabbing the edge of the desk before the momentum could hurl him halfway across the room.

          “Okay, let’s take a look at this scanner,” Tony said, pulling up the blueprints of the prototype, fingertips grazing the glass screen. His brown eyes scanned the layout of the scanner, searching. The technology worked well enough as far as Tony knew, it was just the radius at which it operated that needed some fine tuning. Given a few hours, Tony could have half of Manhattan under the radar for any suspicious activity of the Loki variety.

          “JARVIS, pull up that scan of Loki’s magic again,” Tony said. “Let’s see if we can dig a little deeper.”

 

          Loki hadn’t meant to throw the mortal off an eighty story building.

          The god had awoken to a man in overalls with a toolbox in his hand freaking out about the frosted air conditioning unit Loki was currently using as a back rest. Loki’s eyes shot open, flying to his feet with inhuman speed. His eyes darted between the mortal and the frozen piece of metal incredulously.

          “Man, what’s up with your skin?!” the man asked in horror, staring at Loki as if he going to attack him on the spot. Loki looked down at his hands and gasped. Instead of the pale skin he had known for most of his life, Jotun blue tinted his fingers. With a cry Loki flung his hand out, sending a wave of ice towards the man. The shards pierced the man’s skin, the force flinging him over the edge of the building. Loki could hear him scream the whole way down before suddenly, it stopped.

          Loki let out a panicked whimper as he willed his skin to change, staring at his hands. Slowly he felt warmth creep through him, pale cream bleeding into icy blue. With a shuddering breath Loki looked from his hands to the block of ice he’d created in his sleep. Anger bubbled in his stomach and he gritted his teeth. That fool Odin did this to him; weakened his power so much that in the helplessness of sleep his own body betrayed him, reverting to that wretched form of the Jotuns.

          There was a commotion down below on the street. The unfortunate mortal’s body was creating a scene. Loki could hear sirens in the distance, wailing and grating as their sound bounded off the windows of skyscrapers in a cacophony of noise. The god gritted his teeth and tried to summon the magic within him. He felt stronger than he had before he’d fallen asleep, and he found it easier to perform a translocation spell as well as a glamour to conceal his identity. With one last look at the frozen box, Loki disappeared from the rooftop, leaving only ice and a mystery behind.

 

          It was four hours later when Tony made any headway with the scanner. He had analyzed the readings JARVIS had taken of Loki and found an anomaly with the signature after two and a half hours of prying it apart. Under the energy signature that hovered over Loki’s body like an aura was a different surge of power that had spiked and almost covered Loki’s completely the moment his scepter came close to Tony’s chest. It had gone by unnoticed the first time Tony looked at the readings (which, unfortunately, could mean that the scanner hadn’t been doing any good the whole time, being locked on the wrong signature completely. Tony wanted Loki’s unique signature, not the Tesseract’s). Fortunately, Tony could now remedy that little problem and expand the area in which the scanner could operate.

          “There we go,” Tony muttered to himself, finishing the plans. He’d get to work on reassembling the scanner tomorrow. JARVIS was already downloading the software so that Tony could be sure some sort of surveillance was being done for Loki.

          Feeling accomplished, Tony stood up from his desk and stretched, feeling joints pop and shift as he twisted this way and that. He rapped his fingers on the arc reactor, heading towards the elevator to take him down to his floor. Tony tapped a sequence into a touchpad beside the elevator doors. The pad flashed from blue to green, granting Tony access. The chrome doors slid open and Tony stepped inside, pressing another button before the doors closed.

          Thor was the last person Tony least expected to see sitting on his couch as he exited the elevator. The god was dressed in civilian clothes, much to Tony’s surprise, and was staring out of the window that overlooked the New York City skyline in all its glory as the sun set behind its jungle of glass and steel.

          “Hey, buddy,” Tony said, walking around the couch. Thor seemed to have been in deep thought, Tony’s voice making him jump in the silence. “What’s up?”

          Thor looked at Tony, almost apologetically, his hands folded in his lap and his shoulders hunched forward. Tony had never seen the warrior look so small.

          “I wished to inquire about the progress of the scanner Director Fury requested of you,” Thor said. Tony blinked in surprise. Someone was in a hurry to find their little brother, but to be honest, who wasn’t? The sooner Loki was chained up and sent back to Asgard-properly this time-the more at ease everyone would be. The mischief-maker hadn’t even done anything yet and everyone was on edge.

          “It’s getting there,” Tony said, stepping closer to Thor. “It should be ready in a day or two. Why, missing your little brother already?” Tony knew he had said the wrong thing the moment those words had left his mouth. Thor frowned, averting his eyes to stare at his hands in his lap, fingers laced together.

          “I must find him,” Thor said, voice low. “Before he causes any more chaos in this realm. I have to show him-“ he stopped, throat tight. Tony cautiously stepped towards the god, lowering himself down on the couch but keeping enough distance from Thor as he tried to force out his words.

          “I must show him that he is not as alone as he is so determined to believe,” Thor said, finally. The silence that followed was heavy, and Tony felt like he was suffocating on the negative energy that radiated from Thor, snuffing out any brightness that had resided in the room. Thor’s words echoed Rhodey’s that day he’d tried to convince Tony that he didn’t have to do this alone. Tony licked his lips and placed a hand lightly on Thor’s shoulder.

          “We’ll find him,” Tony said, leaning forward. “And then you can prove to him just what a great big brother he’s got.” Thor raised his head and looked at Tony, eyes skeptical but losing some of their darkness. Thor brought his hand up and placed it over Tony’s.

          “Thank you, my friend,” Thor said. With that the god removed his hand and stood, taking one last look at Tony before turning his back and walking to the elevator. As soon as the doors closed Tony stood up, walking over to the bar.

          “I need a drink,” he muttered, grabbing the scotch. He poured himself a glass, mulling over what’d just happened. This was a hot mess. Tony felt a pang in his chest at the thought of Thor, who loved his brother so much despite everything. It was a Shakespearian tragedy, complete with hard to understand dialogue and royally fucked up family.

          “JARVIS, anything exciting happen in my absence?” Tony asked, walking over to the couch. He grabbed the remote and turned on the television, which projected through the giant panes of glass much like the rest of his technology did. The panels dimmed as the picture sharpened, turning the living room into a home theater. He flipped through the channels idly as JARVIS read him a list of calls he missed while he was tinkering away in his workshop. Tony propped his feet up on the coffee table.

          “Ms. Potts called three times before leaving you a message about the charity event. You’re expected to be at Espace at eight o’clock tonight.”

          “Sounds like fun,” Tony said absently, flying through the comedy channel.

          “Also, there is a missed call from Mr. Odinson and an email from Director Fury.”

          The call from Thor was probably to tell Tony that he’d be paying him a visit, but the email sounded interesting.

          “Pull the email up on the TV,” Tony said, taking a drink from his glass. The scotch burned pleasantly as it slid down his throat. The screen blinked before pulling up a short email. All it said was:

Take a look at this news report. Intelligence thinks it may be Loki’s doing. Keep a lookout for any incidents related to ice in the city.

          The email also contained a link to a news website.

          “Play the video,” Tony said, curious.

          “Yes, sir,” JARVIS said. A video expanded on the screen.

          “In other news, a man was found dead today on 375 Park Avenue. Evidence suggests he fell from the top of the Wells Fargo office building. Large icicles were found embedded into his chest. Even stranger, the air conditioning unit at the top of the building was found frozen solid. The man, Paul Newman, 46, was reportedly hired to fix the air conditioning after complaints were being filed that worker’s offices were too hot on this record high, 85 degree September day. Police have no leads as to what happened to Mr. Newman or the AC unit.”

          The screen changed to a photo of the air conditioning unit. It was glazed over in ice, spider webs of frost creeping across its surface. Tony cocked his head to the side. Why did S.H.I.E.L.D. think this was Loki’s doing? The god had never used ice once during their battle for New York City. They must be leaping at any strange event and pinning it on the trickster.

          Maybe Thor told them something the rest of the Avengers don’t know, which is asking for trouble if one of them gets into a scuffle with Loki and ends up frozen solid. The trauma of Steve turning into another Cap-cicle would be almost too much for the soldier to bear.

          Tony hoped they could solve this Loki problem soon and get on with their lives, relax a little bit. He was in dire need of a vacation, even planned to head on back to Malibu after Stark Tower was finished with renovation. But that plan was put on hold for now. They needed all the hands they could while they waited, like hunters, for their prey to make a move. It was like a terrible game of chess, except it was entirely unpredictable.

          Now it was Loki’s move.

 

          No one took notice of the tall, thin man weaving in and out of pedestrian traffic, eyes cast down and hands shoved in his jean pockets. If they knew who he really was, they’d scream in terror, call for the Avengers, and cower at the man who’d tried to level their city and enslave her people like he was some messiah come to rule them like the little drones they were.

          But no one took notice of this man, for he didn’t look like that crazed megalomaniac. Instead of the long, black tendrils of hair, this man’s hair was short and blond, utterly tame and pleasant-looking. His eyes were not the piercing green but a pale blue that didn’t flash with magic. Instead of a coat of leather and metal he wore a simple maroon button up shirt with jeans and boots. This wasn’t the man who’d unleashed an army upon the city.

          Humans are, by nature, unobservant beings. They tend to look for the ordinary instead of the extraordinary. If something passed as normal, they thought no more about it. They fail to look for the details that could differentiate a garden snake from a viper, a man from a monster.

          It was this crippling quality that kept the New Yorkers blissfully unaware that they were walking beside the man they all feared. Loki reveled in this notion. He’d always enjoyed being virtually invisible when he wanted to. He could watch, observe, collect information.

          Loki’s power was still weak, very weak. If he’d try to do more than simple spells he was sure he’d pass out under the strain. It was frustrating to be so helpless, and the more Loki lived in this state, the more his hatred grew. His loathing for the Allfather festered like an infected wound, growing more rancid and foul. The anger he felt for Thor grew even more-so, the betrayal feeding the fire like coal.

          He’d bide his time for now. Loki rolled his eyes at the thought of another confrontation with the “Avengers”, the pathetic mortals banded together to defend their worthless realm. No doubt Thor would be with them once again to try and stop him when the time came. The question was would the god do what needed to be done if given the chance, or let his heart get in the way.

          Loki eagerly anticipated that day.

Chapter Text

          “So, what do you think?”

          “It’s…huge,” Steve said, eyes wide. “This is mine?” Tony laughed, patting the super-soldier on the arm.

          “Sure is, Cap,” he said, looking around at the magnificent suite. Tony had tried to make each floor specific to their resident. Steve’s had a vintage feel, cozy and round with a contemporary touch. Warm woods and soft colors made up the interior. It was perfect.

          “It’s great, Tony,” Steve said, a grin spreading across his face. He laughed. “Really, thank you.”

          “I figured it’d be easier on the team for us to all have a common place,” Tony said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Everyone’s got their own floor. If you need anything, just ask JARVIS. He can tell you anything you want to know, call anyone you want to call, and guide you through Stark Tower.”

          “Right,” Steve asked, eyes dancing around the room, itching to explore. He looked out of the large windows to the setting sun, its light basking everything in red.

          “Well, I’m going to leave you to get better acquainted,” Tony said. “Let me know if you need anything. Or better yet, ask JARVIS.” Steve nodded, now looking over at the impossibly large bedroom at the end of the hall. Just as Tony stepped into the elevator he heard Steve tentatively speak.

          “JARVIS?”

          “Yes, Captain Rogers?”

          “Uh, where can I find the bathroom?”

          “If you turn to your left and walk down the hallway you will find the bathroom behind the second door to the right.”

          Tony chuckled to himself and pressed the button of his floor. He’d already introduced the rest of the team to their respective floors. Bruce was excited to have his own lab, and Clint was thankful for the room designed specifically for target practice. Natasha had raised an eyebrow at the one fuzzy, pink pillow Tony had placed on her couch just to see what she’d do, but adored the rest of the floor. All in all, mission accomplished.

          “Tony!” the billionaire heard as the doors opened into his living room.

          “Yes, Pepper?” Tony said, wincing and sticking his fingers in his ears. She could have a piercing voice when she was angry with him, which was rather often.

          “Care to explain why you decided to just blow off the charity event last night?” the redhead asked, eyes dark and lips pursed, hands planted firmly on her hips. Tony just blinked at her. Charity event? When was there a-oh. Pepper sighed, shaking her head.

          “I may be CEO of Stark Industries but this is your charity, Tony. I can’t always make excuses for you. And when are you going to be back in Malibu? The press won’t leave me alone about how their ‘hero’ has been neglecting them.”

          “I told you, Pepper,” Tony sighed, walking over to the bar like clockwork. Pepper frowned as she watched Tony pour a glass of scotch. He seemed to live off the substance these days. Sometimes she could smell it on him when she came to ask him about a particular product or just to spend time with him. Tony took a sip of the amber liquid before looking at Pepper with serious eyes.

          “I have to stay in New York. Loki is on the loose again and the team, the entire team, needs to be there when he strikes. Besides, what could possibly be going on in Malibu that Rhodey couldn’t handle?”

          “But can’t New York live without Iron Man for a few days?” Pepper asked, pleading. She sat down on the couch, crossing her long legs. “I feel like I’m going to have a heart attack every time you come back with holes in that suit or a broken foot. I wish you’d take a few weeks off.”

          “I get that, Pepper,” Tony said, walking over to her, glass in hand. “But I can’t just stop being Iron Man. He and I are one and the same. You can’t have one without the other.” Pepper looked away, face falling into a stony expression. She seemed to be searching for something, but all she found were words said a few too many times that would fall on deaf ears. It was a vicious cycle.

          Tony watched her, swirling the scotch in his glass, ice cubes clinking together. There was a pregnant pause. He took another sip from his glass, the action seeming to jog Pepper out of her thoughts.

          “Tony,” she said, her tone akin to that of a mother scolding a child for doing the same thing time and again. “You need to learn responsibility. I know you came very close to dying a while back and I understand your reckless behavior but now-now you need to get your act together.” Tony’s eyes darkened.

          “I haven’t been reckless. I’ve hardly left this tower since renovations began-“

          “That’s another thing,” Pepper said, raising her voice over his. “Why are you turning Stark Tower into some sort of super hero hotel? This is a company, Tony. The share holders aren’t going to be happy about seeing their money used to furnish bedrooms when it should be funding research.”

          “It’s my tower,” Tony argued. “I’m trying to-“ Pepper rose from the couch, stalking angrily towards the man.

          “Your tower? Since when is this your tower,” she said angrily. “Me, me, me. That’s all I’ve heard out of you lately! You need to start thinking about things other than yourself, Tony. You’re not just Iron Man. You’re Tony Stark and you need to stop acting like saving people is your life!”

          “You think that it’s easy being me?” Tony snarled, throwing his arm out. “You think it’s easy having to be a hero and Tony Stark? You have no idea, Pepper, no idea what kind of pressure it puts on me-“

          “Well you’re sure as hell not making it any easier on yourself!” Pepper snapped. She jerked the glass of scotch out of Tony’s hand and stomped past him, tossing the glass in the sink, the drink swirling down the drain. She jerked around, eyes blazing. Tony had never seen her this angry before.

          “Get it together, Tony, because I can’t handle this lone-ranger, narcissistic act anymore.” Pepper spun on her heel and stormed out of the room, keeping her back to the Iron Man as the doors of the elevator closed behind her, leaving Tony completely and utterly alone.

          “Argh!” Tony exclaimed, smashing his fist on the counter. How dare she! Pepper had no idea what Tony was going through right now, and for her to assume he was being reckless when he hadn’t even appeared in a tabloid in weeks sent a dagger through his heart. Assume, that’s all anyone ever did when it came to him.

His eyes landed on the bottle of scotch, beckoning him from behind the bar with its promises of numbness and pleasant buzzing, and his hand shot out to grab it around the neck, as if to strangle his anger out of it. He brought it to his lips and drank a gulp of the liquid, barely noticing the burn as it went down. He gasped, looking at the bottle darkly before drinking from it again, smothering his emotions in fire and alcohol. Tony saw an empty glass sitting idly on the bar. He picked it up and hurled it across the room. It shattered against the wall, crystal shards flying across the floor.

Tony stomped over to the couch, flopping ungracefully on it as he took another swig from the bottle, almost empty as its contents were drained. His body hummed pleasantly now and he could barely hear Pepper’s words in his head, echoing like a lost melody in a cave.

Oblivion. Sweet Oblivion.

 

It surprised Loki just how fast they found him.

In retrospect, he should have expected this sooner, but he was nonetheless shocked when he felt the cold, poisonous feel of fingers on the back of his neck, jolting him from his slumber. He shot up from his bed in the hotel room he bought for the night, having slipped into the vault of a bank and out with no trouble and nearly fifteen thousand dollars. His eyes scanned the room, but he found himself alone. Suddenly a voice whispered inside his head- dark, foreboding, and very angry.

“Loki,” it hissed. “You have failed us.” Loki closed his eyes, shivering at the cold that ran down his spine.

“Yes,” he said quietly. “I failed to bring you the Tesseract.” He wanted to move, turn on the lamp beside his bed and flood the room with light, but his body was paralyzed. Loki was terrified.

“You were warned of what would befall you should you fail to carry out our bargain,” the voice hissed again.

“Without the Tesseract you are bound to your realm,” Loki said, not as sure of himself as he sounded. “What have I to fear?” A violent tremor coursed through his body, a pressure feeling like a hand against his neck.

“We have ways of finding you.” Loki felt his stomach drop. “The Bifrost is nearly repaired, your Heimdall weak from our last attack on the kingdom. He will come for you, and you will pay the price.”

“Why not steal the Tesseract yourselves?” Loki asked, almost choking. They had attacked Asgard? Why had he not known of this? “It is hidden away in Asgard’s palace. Why not take it for yourselves?” He heard a chuckle that shook him to the core, deep and mocking.

“We will have the Tesseract,” it said with finality. “And you will suffer for your failure. Mark our words.” The presence suddenly lifted from the room, and the air suddenly felt lighter, cleaner. Instead of relief, though, Loki trembled, skin cold and clammy. His breath shook as he tried to compose himself in the darkness. He leaned over and turned the lamp on, flooding the room with warm, yellow light.

Loki rose from the bed, walking across the soft carpet to the bathroom. The stark whiteness did nothing to calm his nerves when he flipped the switch on, the fluorescent light glaring at him in all directions. Loki turned a knob on the vanity. The water ran cold in the porcelain sink, and it reminded Loki of the grip of those fingers on his neck. He turned the other golden knob for the hot water, and held his hands under the faucet until the water scalded his fingers.

His heartbeat echoed in his ears, beating wildly in his chest. How was Loki to escape this? Just when he escaped from a dark fate, another followed at his feels like a shadow, ever present and growing as the light faded from the sky.

Magic tingled at Loki fingers. It seemed to be regenerating faster than even Loki thought possible. The Allfather had failed, much to Loki’s delight. Perhaps in a few days time the trickster could test his magic, cause a little mischief. He may even get to spar with the great Avengers. Yes, perhaps it was time to pay them a visit.

The god walked out of the bathroom, pointedly avoiding looking at the large mirror above the vanity. He didn’t need to see the dark, bruise-like circles under his eyes or the pasty complexion of his skin…the terrified look in his eyes. Loki knew that they were all present, all signs of his struggle, his plight. He didn’t need to see it.     

As much as he wanted to sleep, the bed was encased in the lingering feeling of poisonous air and darkness. Loki stepped out onto the balcony, barefoot and in nothing but a plain pair of black pajamas he’d bought at a store near the hotel. The fabric was silken, chilling in the cold night air. This was a welcome chill, though. This was the chill of a night filled with opportunity, not the cold that wafted off of the Chitauri in vapors, not unlike the Jotun. This was a chill that felt like home.

Loki was very high, though not as high as the building he’d pushed the mortal off of. The god had to admit the beauty of the city he was in. Even in the wee hours of the morning, it was filled with life of the nocturnal. Lights still twinkled and glowed, reflecting on the millions of glass windows like a dazzling house of mirrors. There was one thing Loki did not like about the city, however- he could not see the stars.

All of the light pollution prevented the swirling balls of heat and light from being seen, even in the darkest and clearest of nights. Loki had an affinity for the stars, as did anyone who grew up in Asgard. They were taught the constellations, their correlation with the seasons and the realms. Loki could tell you which realm he was in just by looking at the stars if he had nothing else to go on. He knew the constellations well, and the stories behind them from the many cultures that mapped the patterns of the night sky.

The moon, in contrast, could still be seen even as the lights of the city prevented the stars. Her silver face looked down upon New York, gently pushing and pulling the tides of the waters around Manhattan. She was full tonight, a rainbow ring of ice wrapped around her body. Loki had always felt a kinship with the moon, perhaps the way Thor had always felt so alive in the sun and was saddened on rainy days. The moon resided over the night as the sun resided over the day.

Loki had always seen the opposites between himself and Thor. He’d always considered them as two sides of the same coin: different, but equal. Sadly, he was the only one who thought of himself and the Aesir as part of the same whole. Everyone else had seen them as opposite ends of the spectrum, with Thor at the top and Loki clawing his way from the bottom.

The god mused in the night, leaning against the balcony railing. His eyes stared at the city before him, but they were distant with thought. Loki stood on the balcony until the first rays on sunlight touched the tops of the skyline, mind trapped in the past.

 

It was utterly silent in the penthouse, save for the breathing of a man passed out ungracefully on the couch, one arm dangling over the edge as the other rested above his head. The empty bottle of scotch lay close to the hand dangling near the floor, as if it had dropped there at some point in the night. Tony’s clothes were wrinkled, his shirt riding up to expose his stomach. The smell of alcohol permeated the air.

Tony’s eyelids fluttered just before opening the slightest fraction. The windows were tinted, blocking out the majority of the afternoon sunlight. A soft groan escaped the billionaire’s lips as he turned his head, coming face to face with the back rest.

“Sir?” JARVIS spoke, shattering the quiet. “I urge you to rise, as it is nearly two o’clock in the afternoon.” Tony mumbled something into the side of the couch, head pulsing.

“Ms. Potts has called four times between eight A.M. and twelve P.M. and you have several emails from Director Fury,” JARVIS stated. Tony groaned again, moving slowly to a sitting position.

“JARVIS,” Tony said, tired eyes glaring out the tinted windows. “I’m taking the day off.”

“As you wish, sir,” JARVIS said, and fell silent, leaving Tony to mull over what had happened last night. Something to do with Pepper. Tony ran his fingers through his hair, resting his forehead on the heels of his hands as he hunched over. There was a fight. God, his head hurt.

“JARVIS,” Tony asked, looking down at the empty scotch bottle resting on the floor. “Did Pepper come by last night?”

“Yes, sir,” JARVIS confirmed. “She arrived at six twenty six and stayed for approximately seventeen minutes. You two had a disagreement.”

Disagreement. What a polite way to put it. Tony began to remember snippets of the fight he knew to have happened. There was mention of the charity event he hadn’t gone to, being scolded for saving people, being irresponsible.

It was all too much for Tony to take in. His head hurt like a bitch and his mouth was parched. He stood slowly from the couch and walked like a zombie to the bar, grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator. Tony winced at the harsh light of the inside, closing the door as quickly as possible.

The water was soothing as it went down Tony’s throat. He could feel his headache ebb just the slightest bit. He almost felt human again.

“JARVIS, I’m going to bed. No disturbances,” Tony said before stalking off to his bedroom.

“Yes, sir.”

S.H.I.E.L.D. was still monitoring for any sign of Loki. Tony finished the scanner and had it delivered to Fury right on time, to the shock of everyone in the office. Neither S.H.I.E.L.D.’s scanner nor Tony’s picked up any trace of Loki’s magic, which could mean that either Loki wasn’t in Manhattan, or that he was too weak to even send out a signal.   

“I hope it’s the latter,” Steve said at one of their meetings. He, Tony, Bruce, and Thor were there along with Director Fury. Unfortunately, Loki wasn’t the only threat to S.H.I.E.L.D., and Clint and Natasha were sent off on other missions. It was a hard decision for Fury to make, but the rest of the world couldn’t be put on hold just because a crazed Norse god was bunkered somewhere in New York.

“We’d have a problem if he were somewhere else,” he explained. “If he’s in New York then at least we know he’s not strong enough to pull anything. Not yet at least.”

But the threat still loomed. Everyone was getting anxious. What if Loki was permanently wounded, unable to conjure any sort of magic, and they were just waiting for a broken prince? What if nothing ever happened? It would be worse than if Loki did finally do something, the threat and uncertainty driving them mad with anticipation.

“Thor,” Bruce asked, looking at the god over his glasses. Thor had taken to wearing civilian clothes these days when he was on Earth. He never stopped looking like a god, though, even in jeans and t-shirts, albeit a weary one. “Do you know what Loki might do if he does regain his powers? What would be his first course of action?”

“My brother has always been unpredictable,” Thor said, looking over at the scientist. “It’s part of why he’s so talented at causing mischief. You can never really tell what he will do next.”

“So, in other words, we keep doing what we’re doing,” Tony concluded, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back in his chair.

“There must be something else we can do,” Steve said. “Something other than waiting.”

“Unfortunately, no,” Fury said, shaking his head. “Until Loki strikes, we don’t.”

They sat, silent. What good was the Avengers team if they had to wait for an attack to stop it?

Fortunately, for them, their wait wasn’t much longer.

“Incoming call from Director Fury, sir,” JARVIS said. Tony looked up from his tablet in his workshop, running some diagnostics on a new weapon for the suit.

“Answer,” he said, looking back down, eyes tracing the design for a more powerful repulsor without overpowering the flight stabilizer.

“Stark,” Fury said suddenly, voice filling the room. “We’ve got a situation.”

“Yeah?” Tony asked, rearranging wires with his fingertips on the glass surface. “What kind of situation?”

“Loki.” Tony stopped, eyes sliding to look at the newest Iron Man suit situated in display with the others.

“About freaking time.”

Chapter Text

Tony was the first on the scene. Loki had picked a prime time to strike- it was only Tony, Steve, and Thor against the God of Mischief. Bruce was at a science convention in Dublin, and had been looking forward to it for months. S.H.I.E.L.D. had reluctantly given him the okay to go after weeks of no Loki sightings. Tony was sure they were kicking themselves right now.

The Iron Man looked up at the god, who was currently perched atop the Bethesda Fountain in Central Park. Tony smirked. The fountain was only feet away from where he and Thor had departed to Asgard with the Tesseract, bound and gagged like some twisted restraint. Loki must be one for symbolism. The aforementioned god was currently animating the shadows around him that lay below the trees with a wave of his long fingers. They rose from the ground, darkening and shifting into inhuman monsters as black as ink. Darkness wafted off of them like smoke. The Shadows began to chase down pedestrians as Loki watched from above, laughing as the humans tripped over themselves to escape. Asshole.

“Hey tall, dark, and gruesome,” Tony said, walking up to the fountain. One of the shadow creatures ran towards him, menacing claw in the air, ready to strike. Tony fired a repulsor at it. The beam hit the creature dead on, but shot straight through it as if the being were made of smoke. Well, shit. Instead of attacking, though, the Shadow ran off in the opposite direction, targeting a middle-aged man running up the stairs.

“Tony Stark,” Loki said, peering down at him with amused green eyes. “How wonderful for you to join me on this beautiful day in the park.” Tony took in Loki’s new look as he looked up at the god. His armor looked different from last time- less gold and more green that wove in and out of his black sleeves like the leather herringbone pattern across his torso. The leather skirt still remained, but the rest of his clothes fit closer to his body, his ensemble devoid of the broad shoulder guards he’d worn before, making him appear thinner, more lithe, agile. He still wore that damned horned helmet, though, and it caught the sunlight every time Loki turned his head.

“Sorry if I can’t stay for the picnic,” Tony said, glaring at the god from behind his helmet. “I’ve got other things to do than chase you around.”

“What a pity,” Loki said, not moving from his perch. “Might your other teammates join me? Or are they too preoccupied elsewhere?” At this, Loki looked beyond Tony, up to the terrace. Tony turned and followed his gaze. A shield flew into the air, slicing through a Shadow before returning to its owner, all decked out in his spangled suit. The attack did nothing to hinder the Shadow’s movement, and the creature began to run after a couple holding hands as they walked through the park. The girl’s scream rang in Tony’s ears.

“These things are resistant to any physical attack,” Steve said over the comm.

“Yeah, noticed,” Tony said, turning back to the god. “What’s with the-“ the top of the fountain was bare. Tony looked from side to side, searching for trickster, his lock on him gone from the HUD.

“Here,” he heard a whisper to his left just before he felt something wedge between the plates of armor on his abdomen, piercing the skin and muscle under it.

“Son of a-JARVIS!“ Tony shot a repulsor at Loki, who dodged with a turn on his heel, like a dancer, leather twirling around him. Tony’s other hand flew to his stomach. It wasn’t a deep wound, but he could feel blood begin to pool under his body suit.

“He momentarily dropped off of the radar, sir.”

“Dirty trick,” the billionaire hissed through clenched teeth as he threw the small knife behind him, clattering against the bricks. Loki just cocked his head to the side, narrowing his eyes at Tony like he was some interesting insect that he didn’t know if he wanted to squish.

“You should be more careful, Iron Man,” Loki said as they walked in was wide circle, neither willing to turn away from each other. “You wouldn’t want to bleed all over your suit of armor.”

Tony gritted his teeth and shot another repulsor at Loki. The god dodged it with ease, strafing left and smirking devilishly.

“If you want to dance, by all means,” Tony said to himself, getting fed up with the god already. “Dance.” He shot another repulsor, one right after the other, alternating hands as he tried to get just one good shot at Loki. It was amazing just how lithe the god was, twisting and pivoting on his feet like some twisted choreography. It almost shocked Tony when one of his blasts finally hit Loki square in the right shoulder, hurtling him backwards thirty feet. The god let out a surprised grunt, wincing as his back connected with the ground, stealing the air from his lungs.

“What’s the matter?” Tony said, walking towards Loki. “Not so powerful without your glowing Rubix Cube?” Loki looked like he was about to reply when he stopped, mouth still halfway opened when his eyes moved from Tony to behind him, narrowing dangerously. Tony could see magic spark at the god’s fingertips.

“Thor,” Loki spat, slowly standing to his feet. “I thought I had warned you.” Tony stepped out of Loki’s way and looked over to the thunder god, who was back in Asgardian armor, Mjolnir in hand and blue eyes as serious as Tony had ever seen them.

“May need your backup down here, Cap,” Tony said over the comm., afraid of what may happen if two Asgardians unleashed their wrath on Central Park.

“Roger that,” Steve replied, sounding frustrated. “The monsters Loki created have disappeared into thin air. They’re just…gone.”

“We’ve got a bit of a bigger problem on our hands than Loki’s shadow puppets,” Tony said, muscles tense as the two gods stared each other down.

“You are weak, brother,” Thor said, taking a step forward. “Do not make me wound you when you do not have the strength to fight back.” That was pretty much Asgardian for ‘don’t make me kick you while you’re down.’

“You’re the weak one, Thor,” Loki said, looking like a cobra trapped in a corner, ready to strike. “This realm has made you so.”

“You see weakness in companionship.” Thor took another step towards Loki. Green eyes stayed locked on him, daring him to try anything. “What is so bad about not being alone?”

“Such sentiment brother,” Loki sneered, hands twitching at his sides. “Your attachments make you weak, your feelings a shroud. You seek affection where it is not wanted nor given.” Tony saw hurt flash across Thor eyes before it steeled into something else entirely- resolve. Loki took one last look at Thor before the air around him wavered like a heat wave and he was gone, disappearing like vapor.

“I don’t understand,” Tony heard Steve say behind him. “He didn’t destroy anything. Those shadow creatures only chased people around like some twisted game of tag.”

“Loki is too weak to cause any real damage,” Thor said, staring at the spot his brother had stood. “But he is gaining power. Soon his tricks will do more than frighten.”  Tony popped the face plate up, squinting his eyes against the sunlight.

“Well, we’d better stop him before he decides to go trick or treating again,” he said. Thor just looked at him. References, right. Tony took a step forward, tilting dangerously to the side. He felt dizzy all of a sudden.

“You alright, Tony?” Steve asked, looking ready to catch him any moment.

“Loki got me with a knife under the armor,” Tony said, righting himself. He could feel the hot, sticky blood plastering his body suit to his skin. “If I can get to the tower I’ll be good.” Steve looked unsure and gave Thor a look. It took Tony only a second to understand what Steve was asking the god to do.

“Oh, hell no,” Tony said, throwing his hands up. “I’m not taking a ride with the Thunder-copter.”

“I don’t trust you to fly while you’re wounded,” Steve said. “Be reasonable.” Tony shook his head, blanching as he realized that was a bad idea.

“Okay,” he said breathlessly, hand over his stomach. “Just this one time. No tricks, okay? I’d hate to barf all over that billowing cape.” Thor stepped forward and wrapped his large hand around Tony’s arm.

“Do not worry Metal-Man,” Thor said as he raised Mjolnir to the sky. “No harm will come to you.” Tony felt his stomach drop as Thor twirled his hammer above them, the air around them twisting like a cyclone.

This was not going to be fun.

 

Tony could rightfully say that he never wanted to hitch a ride from Thor again. The experience was like being in a tornado, and he had no desire to be whisked off like Dorothy to Oz again anytime soon.

The billionaire had gotten his stab wound attended to, and it turned out he needed stitches. Loki hadn’t punctured anything, but he tore through Tony’s abdominal muscles on his left side and it hurt like a bitch to laugh. Still, it was a relatively tame injury compared to ones he’d received in the past, though Pepper still had that permanent crease between her eyebrows that Tony couldn’t stand to see.

Fury had called them all in immediately after their confrontation in Central Park, looking for data- anything they could pin Loki with to make him traceable. He’d given Tony an earful about his ‘faulty scanner’, but they soon realized that the reason they hadn’t picked up Loki was because his magic signature hadn’t been strong enough until now. The scanner was now going wild with activity, picking up magic all over the place.

“What the hell is going on, Stark?” Fury asked, nose close to the screen.

“Decoys,” Thor supplied. Fury cursed and walked out of the room, leaving Thor, Tony, and Steve alone to think.

“There’s must be some way to find him,” Steve said, always trying to think out solutions.

“I’ll figure some stuff out,” Tony said, fingers drumming against the arc reactor. “I’m always having JARVIS process data.” Tony wasn’t sure exactly what he was going to do to find the trickster, but there had to be something.

“I’m calling Barton and Romanoff back in,” Fury said, walking back into the room. “We’ll let Banner finish his little science fair but then he’s back on this too. I don’t want to take any chances.”

Fury looked at them all, hands behind his back, face utterly composed.

“You are dismissed,” he said. They all stood and walked out. As Tony walked down the hall towards the elevator, his phone started ringing.

“Talk to me,” he said, putting his phone to his ear.

“Just a reminder about the charity ball tomorrow night,” Pepper said over the phone, sounding like she was power walking down a busy street, which she probably was. “Please actually show up. I’m being hounded by the press. I’ll send your clothes over tonight.”

“I’ll be there,” Tony said, pressing the button for the ground floor in the elevator. “Promise.”

“Please do,” Pepper said before hanging up. Tony stuffed his phone back into his pocket. The elevator dinged before the doors slid open. Well, maybe this ball would take the edge off a little bit, even if it was one of those stuffy bureaucratic events. At least there’d be alcohol.

 

A shiver ran down Loki’s spine as he walked through the streets of Manhattan, once again covered in a glamour that hid him from the eyes of the watchful passerby. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, even though he knew it’d be a long while before they could find him.

Loki quite enjoyed his little stint in Central Park. His goal wasn’t to hurt the mortals, just watch them scream as they frantically ran away from his virtually harmless Shadows. Then that Iron Man, Thor, and the one in the red, white, and blue showed up. The god was surprised at just how much he liked to mess with Tony Stark. Stark had even managed to get a decent shot at him, and the thought made Loki wince. A large, purple bruise covered a fair portion of his shoulder and collar bone from the repulsor blast, but Loki took satisfaction that he’d been able to wedge one of his knives under Stark’s armor, just to show him he wasn’t to be messed with.

Suddenly a poster caught his eye, displayed on a large glass window. It was colorful, saying something about an annual charity masquerade ball. Loki stopped and looked at it, raising an eyebrow. The poster said it was to be tomorrow night, and at the bottom it displayed all of its sponsors. Loki smirked at ‘Stark Industries’ nestled amongst all the other high-dollar corporate companies. Well, that could be an opportunity for a little fun.

Loki turned and continued down the street, sliding his hands into the pockets of a steel grey suit. He wondered if Tony Stark himself would be there, along with his other little teammates.

Another shiver. Loki cursed, dodging past an elderly couple to duck into a small coffee shop. It was quite warm in there, and Loki took in the dark, rich atmosphere. He didn’t particularly enjoy the shivers in relatively mild weather, and his heart beat a little faster at what it meant, what lurked behind him.

After ordering a plain cup of coffee, which Loki found to suit his tastes quite splendidly in the time he’d spent on Midgard, the god slipped out of the shop, mind swirling with a torrent of thoughts that buzzed unpleasantly in his skull. He was a target biding his time, trapped and yet free to do as he pleased. Loki decided then that if he was going to be prey, he may as well find prey of his own.

 

Tony was blinded by the walls of cameras that flashed like strobe lights as he slid out of his car. He tossed the keys to a valet, winking at him before turning to give the paparazzi a full view of his attire for the masquerade ball.

Pepper had picked out quite the ensemble. He wore a black velvet suit that was accented with gold and red thread, an obvious nod to his alternate life that caught Tony off guard after his spat with Pepper and her desire for him to draw a line between Tony Stark and Iron Man. The lapels were woven with gold and crimson thread that swirled up to his neck to a blood red bowtie tied around the collar of a crisp white shirt. Nestled, almost invisible against the vivid embroidery on the lapels was the small, silver lapel pin shaped like an ‘A’. Tony was quite fond of the pin after he’d found his teammates loved theirs. It was a subtle way to unite them, a reminder of what they were and what they shared.

The billionaire looked over to his date, name starting with a ‘V’ but not important to remember when she was going to ditch him the moment they entered the ball room, under the half-mask that was black and red with gold trimming, veins of it spidering around his eyes and to the edges. All in all, Tony Stark was a sight to behold.

He wrapped his arm around Veronica? Vivien?’s waist and guided her into the expansive ballroom, decorated to the nines in a breathtaking display of rich colors, making the room appear almost kaleidoscopic and disorienting.

  As expected, Vanessa? (who the fuck cares) became distracted by some stud in a navy tuxedo, leaving Tony to stand alone under the canopy of jewel tones and spiraling ribbons, deafened by the waltzing music and the chatter that flitted about the ballroom. It was perfectly fine, really. She was one of those women- a shiny bauble with nothing but air inside. Tony had made sure not to invite someone interested in him for the night. It was harder than he’d thought.

Tony strode over to the bar, walking past a woman in an extravagant gold gown with black feathers and a man donned in crushed velvet the color of sea foam, his lips turning up in a smile as he leaned against the smooth, wooden surface of the bar counter.

“Martini, dry,” he said, winking at the particularly attractive bar tender: thin, brunette, wearing a costume Vegas girls would be jealous of and her face partially covered in a silver and powder blue mask. She slid the drink across the smooth wood towards Tony and batted her long eyelashes at him before turning to attend to another party go-er ordering a Manhattan. Someone was looking to have a good, forgetful time.

Tony sipped at his drink, eyes surveying the sea of masked patrons around the large room. It was a little disorienting to have so many people in one room but to not be able to recognize a single one of them. It was as if they were invisible, free to do as they wished simply because their identity was hidden behind a mask of plaster and glitter. 

“Mr. Stark,” someone behind him said suddenly. “Care for a dance?” Tony raised his eyebrow. The voice was unmistakably masculine, smooth, confident…familiar. Instantly his guard was up, mind reeling to formulate a plan of attack.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, turning around to face the taller man, dressed in bottle green, silver, and black that exuded danger and style. Loki’s suit was sinfully cut close to his body, showcasing the slim frame it encompassed. The god stared at Tony with amused eyes behind an elegant burnished gold mask that looked as if it were made of real metal.

“Entertaining myself with one of your realm’s more…interesting parties,” Loki said, eyes sliding to look out to the dance floor. Tony took a daring step forward.

“Interesting? You should let me take you out. I’d make this tea party look like a barmitzfah.”

“Is that an offer?” Loki asked, taking a step. The two were uncomfortably close, Tony fighting the urge to lean back. He wouldn’t be the one to show weakness.

“Hell no,” he said, eyebrows shooting up. “Imagine what the press would say. It’d do some serious damage to my rep.”

“And do you care so much for your precious reputation?” Loki asked, cocking his head to the side. “All of the magazines and television reports tell me otherwise, unless it’s your goal to make the world believe you’re some wealthy, drunken whor-“

“Hey now!” Tony interjected, holding up a hand. “Name-calling will definitely not get you a dance. Maybe I should get the Avengers down here before you insult the entire party and they all turn on you.” Loki turned his lips upwards slightly. It unnerved Tony how in control Loki seemed despite his unholy fall from Asgard and his powers having been reduced to nearly zero.

“I’m not here to kill anyone tonight,” he said, eyes gleaming under his mask. “I just came to enjoy the ball. Can’t we have a temporary truce for this one night?” Tony scoffed, finally taking a step back to stare incredulously at the trickster.

“Why wait? I have a prime opportunity to get you right here, right now,” he said, setting his shoulders back. Loki’s eyes narrowed.

“I fail to see it that way,” he said, taking a step to the right. He slowly circled Tony like a panther, taking one gliding step at a time. “You do not have your suit of armor, nor are any of your so called teammates in the vicinity. I could kill you and disappear before anyone would notice your blood staining the carpet.”

“Maybe I’ve got friends in high places,” Tony said, defiant. Loki chuckled, a dark and mocking sound.

“Do not try to bluff with the Liesmith. You’ll only wound your ego.” Tony gritted his teeth. Loki was right of course. His suit was nowhere close to him, and the other Avengers were either at Stark Tower or running around for S.H.I.E.L.D. His hands were tied. He was cornered.

“Well then, how about that dance?” he said, flashing Loki a smile as he held his hand out. His eyes were dark, though, his brows low. Tony’s gaze challenged Loki to do something to blow his cover. Loki smirked and placed his hand lightly in Tony’s. Tony carefully wrapped his fingers around Loki’s, setting his martini on the bar before leading the god to the dance floor, where a waltz had everyone twirling in ¾ time. Tony fought back the urge to jerk his hand away. He could feel energy surge from Loki’s fingertips.

He turned, nodding at Loki before placing his hand on the trickster’s shoulder, the other holding his hand. Loki wrapped his long fingers around Tony’s waist, fingers pressing into Tony’s wound. The billionaire grunted and dug his thumb into Loki’s shoulder, right against the bruise. Their eyes locked, challenging as they took their first step, then another, then another, lightly stepping with the tempo in a waltz. Loki let Tony lead, much to Tony’s surprise, but where Tony was tense, muscles tight and teeth clenched behind a closed mouth, Loki was rather relaxed, body graceful and easy to move.

They twirled around the ballroom. No one stared at them, for who were they? No one could be sure of anybody here. They were just two men dancing among the myriad of masks and jewels.

“I’m impressed,” Loki said as they stepped lightly about the floor. “The great Tony Stark can waltz.”

“Yeah, well, I’m full of surprises,” Tony said, smirking. Loki’s eyes flashed in amusement. They looked over Tony’s face down to his suit, settling on the small lapel pin.

“How sweet,” he said, eyeing the silver ‘A’. “A token to wear like a badge on a uniform.” His tone was mocking, distain dripping from his tongue. Tony bit back the urge to defend his team, treating Loki like a ticking time bomb. He wasn’t going to tug on any wires.

“You’re looking pretty spiffed up for someone who landed on their ass on Earth with nothing but the clothes on his back,” Tony said, eyeing raking across Loki’s impressive suit.

“I have many methods to achieve what I want,” Loki said, eyes gleaming under the mask. He seemed to be enjoying himself far too much. Tony felt like there was something he was missing.

The music came to a halt, leaving the two men to stand in each others’ hold as everyone else clapped politely for the small orchestra. Tony removed his hands from Loki, putting them to his sides and taking a step back.

“Thank you for the dance,” Loki said, bowing slightly, mouth upturned like he had a secret. Tony just nodded. He wanted to make some witty remark about Loki’s dancing and the next time they found themselves in battle, but nothing came to mind.

The air around Loki shivered, and suddenly the god was gone, just like before, leaving Tony standing amongst the masks alone, hiding under his own.

 

It wasn’t until Tony got home that he realized something was off.

“Shit,” Tony said, staring at the lapel of his jacket as he held it in his hands. “That asshole stole my fourteen hundred dollar pin.” Sure enough, the silver ‘A’ was missing from its spot nestled amongst the gold and crimson embroidery. Tony had no doubt the trickster, the “Liesmith”, was the one who had swiped it-probably while they were dancing. He growled and laid the jacket down on his bed, getting to work on his bowtie.

“Wait a minute,” Tony said, pausing as he pulled one side of the tie out of the knot. “Loki has my lapel pin.”

“Astute observation, sir,” JARVIS said from overhead.

“Don’t be a smartass with me,” Tony scolded, but he was suddenly excited. Yes, this was it.

“I’ve got you now you son of a bitch.”

Chapter Text

 

The air was thick and heavy with numbing, gripping fear that wrapped its cruel fingers the people of Asgard as they waited, paused and praying as their great city fell under attack. Odin stood out on one of the balconies of the palace, face solemn as his gaze looked out beyond the great walls.

The Chitauri had bombarded Asgard, suddenly in the night, nearly a moon cycle ago, catching Heimdall off guard and obliterating an entire division of palace guards, leaving nothing behind but patches of molten metal. Odin had immediately ordered a blockade around the city. Although a king was always ready for war, the Asgardians weren’t prepared for the force that fell upon them like a torrent of utter darkness. The Chitauri were a race of beings Odin had never before faced, and it was obvious something else, something unholy and dark, was fueling this onslaught.

There was no way to contact Thor, who remained blissfully unaware on Midgard that his home was being attacked by the very beings that he’d helped to stop before. Asgard sorely needed their warrior now. Amongst the front line were the Warriors Three and Sif, all fighting gallantly; but it wasn’t enough. Soon, Odin feared, the Chitauri would push past the blockade and into the city, endangering the lives of thousands of innocent Asgardians.

Odin closed his eyes, bowing his head as his mind reeled for ideas. Between Loki escaping and the sudden attacks, Odin felt himself grow more and more weak. The weight of many worries sat upon his shoulders.

Tired eyes opened and scanned the outer wall one last time. Odin let a sigh escape his lips before turning his back on the chaos that used the cosmos as its backdrop.

 

“Run that by me again?” Fury asked, hands planted on his desk as he leaned forward, trying to understand what the excited billionaire was telling him as he paced, ‘round and ‘round in the large conference room.

“I have a way to track Loki,” Tony said again, stopping to look Fury square in the eye. “The lapel pins have tracking devices in them.”

“What?” Steve said, furrowing his brow. “You put tracking devices in the pins? I thought they were just gifts.”

“Well, yeah,” Tony said, having the grace to look a little sheepish. “I figured it’d be a good way to find one of us if we suddenly disappeared. I know some of you never take it off.” Steve coughed and cross his arms across his chest, hiding the silver pin on his lapel from view.

“And Loki stole yours,” he said. “Why didn’t you call the team? We could have captured him and be done with this whole mess.” Tony shook his head, looking at Steve like he just didn’t get it.

“If I had called the team, Loki could have retaliated and may not only have killed me, but would have put everyone at the ball in danger and caused major damage before anyone could have gotten there.”

“No need to argue over what’s past,” Thor said with a raised voice, looking between the two men. “So you say you can find my brother because he stole your pin. Where is he then?”

Tony smirked at Thor and stuck his hand in his pocket, digging around for his phone. He pulled it out and tapped the screen a few times, pulling up a map of Manhattan. A small dot pulsed just to the right of the screen. Tony held to phone out for Thor to see.

“Currently, he’s in Herald’s Square,” Tony said. He turned the phone towards him to look at it again. The dot was moving. Fast. “It looks like he’s heading towards-“ His face paled. Suddenly an alarm sounded above them, signaling a high alert.

“Director Fury,” Agent Hill’s voice said overhead on the intercom. “Loki has been located heading towards Times Square.”

“I want the city on high alert,” Fury commanded, eye fiery and fists clenched as if to fight. Steve was already in Cap mode, darting down the hallway to access his suit. Tony nodded at Thor, who had one hand wrapped around Mjolnir, before picking up the briefcase he’d had the mind to bring with him.

A quick flick of his thumb, ‘click’, activated the technology inside.  Suddenly the briefcase unhinged and metal climbed up Tony’s arm like ivy, weaving up to his shoulder before spreading out, trailing down his chest and legs and lining up like a skeleton. Crimson and gold plates followed the sensors, linking together to form the armor that was as flashy as it was effective. The faceplate lowered over Tony’s eyes, the HUD blinking on and the eyes outside the helmet flickering an electric blue.

“Let’s go,” he said, voice sounding electronic from behind the helmet. Thor followed Tony and they raced towards the stairs leading to the roof. Steve was already up there, cowl over his eyes and grip firm on his shield.

“Tony, I’m with you,” Steve commanded, already in full on Cap-mode.

“Roger that,” Tony said. Thor looked at his teammates as Tony gripped onto Steve’s arm. Together they shot up off the roof, heading towards Times Square.

Tony’s mind was racing. They had to get people out of there. There was no telling what Loki would do, but it wasn’t going to be good. The god had killed before, and Tony didn’t want to see that count go up even higher.

“JARVIS,” Tony said. The HUD flickered, as if acknowledging its creator. “Give me an update on the tracker’s signal.”

“Loki is nearing the heart of Times Square,” JARVIS replied. “S.H.I.E.L.D. agents are evacuating civilians as we speak.”

“Keep me posted,” Tony said, just before upping the thruster capacity by two percent. They were nearing the giant screens and bright lights now, still bright even in midday. Down below Tony could see men in black suits ushering confused pedestrians away from the streets, setting up a perimeter.

“Land dead center!” Steve ordered to Tony and Thor.

“Gotcha,” Tony said, dipping downwards. They landed on the concrete, the Iron Man’s suit clinking hard against the ground. Automatically the three were back to back, forming a circle as they looked around, waiting for the trickster to jump out at them or appear in a billow of smoke.

“Sir,” JARVIS said. “The signal from the tracking device is forty meters to your left.”

“What?” Tony asked, head turning to the side. He didn’t see anything. No green eyes, no leather, no Loki. “There must be something wrong.”

“Spread out,” Steve said. “We don’t know what kind of magic Loki is capable of.” They each took a few steps outward, expanding their circle.

“Loki has been known to hide in the shadows or become the air itself,” Thor said, shoulders low, as if he were a prowling lion.

“Great, no one inhale,” Tony muttered, HUD working overtime to find the god. The screen in front of Tony’s eyes was static with activity as it scrambled for information. The signature from the pin was there, stationary, but Loki’s magic was nowhere to be found.

“Sir,” JARVIS said. “I’ve located the pin.”

“Where is it?” Tony said, muscles tense and eyes sharp. JARVIS pulled up a map of the subway below on the HUD. The signature was coming from one of the trains.

“He’s underground,” Tony said over the comm.

“What?” Steve asked. “You mean the subway?” Tony flew over to the subway entrance. Instead of the usual hustle and bustle erupting from the staircase, it was completely empty. Everyone had been safely evacuated.

“I’m going in,” Tony said. “Half of us should stay above ground in case Loki’s trying to collapse the tunnels or something equally boner-killing.”

“I’ll go with you,” Steve said. “Thor stay up here and keep a sharp eye.” Thor nodded. Tony wished they had the whole team right now. There was strength in numbers.

Tony and Steve entered the subway cautiously. There was a train that sat, stationary, on the tracks. It was as empty as the platform. The duo peered inside the windows, looking for any sign of activity. There was none.

“The signal is coming from inside this one,” Tony said, pointing towards one of the compartments.

“How do we get in?” Steve asked. Tony rolled his eyes, digging his fingers into the metal of the door. The metal screeched under his hands, twisting and crumpling until Tony jerked his arms back and ripped the doors from the train.

“Tony!” Steve gasped. “You can’t just go around destroying city property!”

“I’ll pay for it!” Tony retorted, giving Steve an incredulous look. “Get your undies out of a twist, gramps.” Steve scoffed and ducked inside, eyes roaming over the vacant seats. Tony followed, slowly advancing towards the signal pulsing on the HUD.

Tony’s heart pounded in his chest, seemingly echoing throughout his helmet. This was the worst kind of game. It was like hide and seek, but so much more lethal. Any wrong move and you wouldn’t just be out, you’d be dead.

“You’re right on top of the signal,” JARVIS said suddenly. “No sign of Loki’s magic signature.”

Sitting on the seat closest to Tony, nestled beside a tiny slip of paper, was the small, silver lapel pin. Tony picked the paper up, unfolding it to find one sentence written in small, neat script:

 

You will have to try harder than that.

 

“God dammit!” Tony cursed, crumpling the paper in his hand. He picked up the pin and turned towards Steve, who was inspecting the other side of the compartment.

“He’s not here,” Tony said, holding the pin up. “He tricked us.” Steve looked down at the pin, then back up at Tony.

“So this was some wild goose chase?” he said, frowning. Tony threw the pin at the side of the train. It hit the wall with a metallic ‘clink’ and fell to the floor, catching the fluorescent light on its surface.

Steve sighed, calling Thor on the comm. to let him know the situation. He stepped outside, explaining their findings as he walked across the platform, leaving Tony alone in the compartment.

“There’s got to be some kind of catch,” Tony said, raising his faceplate. The cool air from the subway soothed his face, which was hot from his blood pumping fast through his veins and just a hint of embarrassment that stung on his cheeks. He leaned against one of the poles that reached from the floor to the ceiling, a huff of air expelling from his lungs.

“How amusing,” a voice said from behind. “All this mess just from that little pin. Imagine if I had placed it somewhere far away from this island. Would you have taken your entire force away, leaving this shining city vulnerable to attack?”

Tony gritted his teeth, turning to find Loki sitting on one of the benches, arms crossed against his chest, smirk wide across his face. The harsh light of the subway cast shadows on Loki’s features, highlighting his high cheekbones and sunken eyes that glinted with a playfulness at his little trick, but there was also power there, power that Tony knew was stronger than before.

 “Maybe I wasn’t threatening you before,” Tony said, stepping towards Loki. “But I’m threatening you now. We’ll stop whatever the hell it is you’re up to just like last time.”

Loki chuckled, shaking his head.

“It’s so nice to be able to properly see your face,” Loki said, cocking his head to the side. “Nothing to obstruct the pure rage I see forming in your eyes.” Tony narrowed his gaze, fighting back the urge to throttle the god then and there.

“Really? I preferred you with the mask last night; it hid your squirrely face. Or maybe the muzzle so I don’t have to listen to your sass.” Amusement glittered in Loki’s eyes, infuriating Tony even more. He did the playing, and he didn’t appreciate being the butt of a joke.

“I have yet to cause any real harm to your precious city, and here you are acting as though I’ve set half of it on fire.” He stood, now taller than Tony, even in the suit.

“For all we know, you could to that tomorrow. You’ve leveled buildings,” Tony said, eyes narrowing. “I’m not taking any chances, even if it looks like you don’t have your crazy space-army this round.”

Something wavered in Loki’s facial expression, a flicker of an emotion akin to fear that Tony barely caught before it faded into amusement once more, the corners of Loki’s lips curling up into a mocking smile.

“I have no need for the Chitauri,” Loki said, rolling his eyes. “I was merely trying to fulfill part of a bargain I had no desire in being a part of.”

Something in Tony’s head clicked, a realization he could possibly use to his advantage and lower Loki’s guard, if even for a second.

“But you were supposed to get them the Tesseract, right?” Tony asked, throwing his shoulders back, words probing. “What are they going to do to you now that it’s back up in Asgard and not in their hands?”

Loki’s reaction was instantaneous. Tony was suddenly shoved up against the side of the train, Loki’s god-like strength pinning him there with one hand. Even in the suit, Tony couldn’t push off the hand that curled its fingers around his throat, squeezing the metal wrapped around it. Fury rippled off of Loki’s body, magic sparking at his fingertips.

Well, that plan went south.

“Don’t think you have power over me, mortal,” Loki hissed, face close to Tony’s, breath ghosting over his skin. “You are but a man in a suit of armor who thinks himself a hero. You and your race are in chaos, whether your feeble minds believe this pathetic system you call a government creates order or not. You were made to be ruled, and I intend to be the one to rise to that position.”   

His grip tightened on Tony’s throat, pushing the padding and metal into his skin, cutting off air in his windpipe. Tony gasped, eyes wide as they stared into Loki’s.

Loki’s tightened his grip even more before harshly letting go, shoving the Iron Man back against the wall as he stepped back. Tony sucked in a lungful of air and coughed, chest heaving under the suit. He could feel his stitches stretch painfully on his stomach.

“You-you don’t scare me,” he sputtered, doubled over as he tried to take in air. The metal around his neck was constricting his windpipe.

Loki stepped towards the billionaire slowly, fury gone from his features and replaced with a knowing look. He bent down the tiniest bit, lips nearly brushing Tony’s cheek.

“Then you are a fool,” he whispered, disappearing just as Steve ran into the train.

“Tony!” he exclaimed. “What’s going on?” Tony didn’t answer. Instead he fumbled with the release on the sides of his neck, helmet and neck armor coming off with a ‘click’. He threw the helmet to the side and rubbed at his neck, which was red and bruising before Steve’s eyes.

“I should have stayed in here,” Steve said, rushing to Tony’s side. Tony was cursing under his breath, face red and eyes wide and angry. He shoved away Steve’s hand, straightening himself up.

“Let’s go,” he said, stalking towards the door. Steve pulled back his cowl and followed the angry man stomping out of the subway.

“What happened?” Steve asked, ascending the stairs to the streets above.

“Loki,” Tony growled. “I need a drink.” Steve tried to get Tony to stop. Thor hastened up to them, eyes glued to Tony’s neck.

“What has happened to you?” he asked, brow furrowed.

“Your charming brother,” Tony huffed, trudging along the street. Thor frowned deeply, following the billionaire and the super-soldier.

“Tony, slow down. You need to debrief us,” Steve said. Tony growled and whirled around.

“The bastard just tried to choke me,” Tony said. “Nothing to it! I’m injured, I need a drink, I’ll tell you all about it once I can’t feel the pain in my neck- no pun intended.”

Steve stepped back, feeling the negative energy wafting off of Tony. He was confused. Sure they all took a beating every once and a while, but he’d never seen Tony act so furious before after something like this. Steve didn’t like it one bit.

“Tony, I-“

“I will tell you one thing,” Tony said, turning his back to them. He began walking away, and Steve and Thor had to lean forward to hear the billionaire. “Loki is a dead man walking. I should know, I used to be one.”

 

 

A knife sliced through the air before embedding itself into the trunk of a tree. Another one followed it, hitting just below the first, perfectly aligned as only a master can do.

Loki drew him arm back and slung another knife, eyes burning as it whistled through the air and sliced through the wood, pieces of bark drifting to the ground. There wasn’t a soul in Central Park this late at night. Loki had it all to himself.

The god pushed a strand of inky black hair from his face, jaw set as puffs of air escaped his lips. His heart hammered in his chest, the feeling of self-loathing crawling under his skin. How could he have lost his cool like that?

Loki was usually so good at keeping things under control, adopting a façade or disguise to get what he wanted, and yet he had let it slip just this once, and the Avengers now in all likelihood found his weakness, his fear.

Not that they could use it to their advantage. Loki was dead either way, be it from the cold-blooded race of monsters that resided in the darkest reaches of the cosmos or by the hands of the exalted heroes of Midgard. Loki knew he was a dead man.

He sighed, walking up to the tall oak he had been using as a target, pulling the knives out one by one before leaning against the trunk, resting his knives against his hip. The rough bark of the tree dug into his skin even through the layers of fabric covering his arms. His armor was sparse compared to what he had worn during his siege of New York City, mostly leather and dense fabric instead of the gleaming gold bracers and wrist guards before.

The god felt so very lost, like a child. Anger and fear swirled inside him, making him feel sick and weak. His mind drifted from his slip up of today to the visit the Chitauri had paid him, the visit that caused the nightmares that plagued him whenever he attempted to close his eyes for sleep. The bags under his eyes were evidence of his insomnia. The world felt distant at times, unreal. It unnerved Loki, almost as much as the news the Chitauri had given him about the world he once called home.

Asgard was in trouble. That shouldn’t bother Loki as much as it did. Asgard was the kingdom of that man that had lied to him for years about his true parentage and home to those who had doubted him, ridiculed him, compared him in every way to their true would-be king and was found inferior in comparison.

It was still his home for most of his life, though, and it was under attack by the very beings that were after him. First they would destroy the kingdom, then they would destroy the traitorous prince that once lived it.

The sounds of the city resonated in the air as Loki pondered. The god rested his forehead against the tree, closing his eyes. There was a plan in there somewhere, he was sure of it. Something he just wasn’t seeing.

Suddenly a crack of thunder boomed overhead. Loki jerked back, eyes flying to the sky. Lightning darted through the clouds. Rain threatened to fall from their swelled bodies. Loki heard another crash of thunder, and he thought about Thor.

Thor.

Perhaps the golden prince could be of some use after all. Loki felt his mind churn, rustling from the fog it had been in and attempting to work once more at its swift pace.

Thor could be a key, a pawn to help save the castle and to destroy the queen. Loki would win in the end, but the pawn would make a valiant attempt if all went as planned.

Another clap of thunder echoed overhead. One by one, tiny raindrops fell from above, until they clattered on the pavement in waves, nearly as loud as the thunder. Loki let the rain fall on him, welcoming its touch as water ran down his face, caressing his neck, sliding down his nose to drip onto his chest.

There was nothing but the sound of the rain, the thunder that clapped every now and then above. Lights were blurs of bright colors and the pavement became a black river that reflected the lamps and swallowed the raindrops. Soon he was soaked. He didn’t care. The rain wasn’t as cold as he felt. It was warm in comparison, soothing like a shower.

For a moment, it washed away his worries.

Chapter Text

Thor was standing on the roof of Stark tower when Loki found him. It was in the wee hours of morning, still dark, but the city was no longer being pounded with rain. The god found that sleep would not come to him. His mind was muddled with a cacophony of thoughts that wouldn’t halt for slumber, so Thor came up to the roof instead. Tony had caught him trying to get up there some nights ago, but told him it was okay as long as he didn’t break anything.

Even though you couldn’t see the stars, even when it was a clear night, Thor still liked to be near the sky. The height of the tower pleased him. He was close to the heavens, the clouds, the sun and moon.

Thor leaned back on the concrete wall from where he sat, eyes cast upwards as he thought to himself. Suddenly he felt a disturbance in the air, a familiar presence that once upon a time brought comfort and not the alarming instinct to reach for Mjolnir that it elicited now.

“Loki,” he said quietly. The trickster appeared before Thor, hands behind his back, eyes serious, face gaunt.

“Thor,” Loki said. “I come here not to fight.” Thor narrowed his eyes and rose to his feet, looking down on his younger brother. Loki felt the urge to shrink under that gaze that was so much like Odin’s. But he stood tall, not even daring to blink at the God of Thunder.

“Then why are you here?” Thor asked, one hand resting on Mjolnir’s handle. “Surely not to repent for all of your foolishness?” Loki gritted his teeth, the muscle in his jaw jumping.

“I bring grave news of Asgard,” Loki explained, bowing his head a little. “It has fallen under attack by the Chitauri.” Thor furrowed his brow, fingers slipping away from his hammer.

“What?” Thor asked, taking a step forward. “How do you know of this?”

“The Chitauri are after me,” Loki explained, hands still resting behind his back. His voice was soft, almost timid. “They came to tell me that they will destroy the city to steal the Tesseract, and then exact my punishment for not fulfilling my side of our bargain.” Thor walked up to Loki, reaching out to the fallen prince.

“Is this true, brother?” he asked, fingers close to Loki’s shoulder. The mischief god jerked back, hands unclasping behind him. Loki moved, swift as the wind. A knife glittered in the night, sharp and lethal in Loki’s hand as he pointed it at Thor, threatening to slice across the god’s cheek.

“You would do well to forget all ties of brotherhood between us,” Loki hissed. “I came here tonight to tell you about Asgard, nothing more.” Thor lowered his hand, which had frozen in place when Loki had brandished the knife. He took a step back, giving Loki a tired look. He asked the simplest of questions, which beckoned forth the most complicated of answers.

“Why?”

“Asgard was once my home,” Loki answered, lowering his weapon. His eyes bore into Thor’s. “I will not see such a shining city fall under the tyranny of that wretched race.” Loki spat the last bit, lips curling into a snarl. He couldn’t suppress the hatred that flared up inside him.

Thor watched the man before him. He saw the hatred burn in Loki’s eyes. He saw the distain and the disgust that curled his lips and furrowed his brow and knew that what Loki told him was the truth, but Thor also saw just how utterly tired Loki looked. This man that once called him brother looked like a shadow of his former self, a shell that sought out nothing but chaos and destruction and beings for him to rule so that he may finally be able to prove himself able to command, to rule the people. Thor once thought Loki would be a good king, a wise and kind one, but jealousy had since twisted his mind and caged any sense that remained in him. Thor felt so much pity for his brother, so much anger and sorrow and love that he could not express for fear of setting Loki off like a land mine that blew under the slightest pressure.

“Thank you,” Thor said finally. Loki looked into Thor’s eyes, his gaze slightly confused. He had expected more of a fight this night, not the passivity that so often infuriated Loki when he spoke to Odin. “Asgard will know of their prince who called upon the aid of his brother to protect their home.” Loki felt blood rush to his cheeks and boil under his skin.

“I care not for the people of Asgard!” he roared viciously. “They never cared for me! Leave me out of your heroism, Thor. I came only to tell you this because I loathe the Chitauri and I hope that perhaps you may be able to save your precious Asgard and expel them from the cosmos. My reasons are for myself, not for anyone else.”

Loki had always been a talented liar, and Thor could clearly see the hatred blazing in Loki’s green eyes. There was a reason he gained the moniker of “Silvertongue”, but Thor saw right through Loki’e lie. He merely nodded at the mischief maker, watching as Loki disappeared into the night without another word.

Thor pressed his fists to his eyes as he closed them. He once courted war, welcomed it with open arms. That seemed as though it were a long time ago. Now he felt the weight of moving from one battle to the next, the weight that taught a true king to be wary of war, to not seek it out.

But Asgard was in trouble, and as much as Loki feigned indifference towards it, Thor knew he was concerned. What bothered the god more, though, was the utter distain his brother had for the Chitauri that transcended just him being hunted down. There was something that told Thor that Loki had gone through a lot after he fell from the Bifrost. One day, hopefully, Thor would know exactly what that was.

Crystal blue eyes opened once more to gaze out upon the New York City skyline.

“I will protect our home, brother,” Thor said with resolve. “You have my word.”

 

 

“The Avengers evacuated Times Square yesterday. It is still unclear as to why and no one has been able to receive a statement on the matter. Witnesses report team leaders Iron Man and Captain America descending unto the subway. The only reported damage was a train door ripped from one of the compartments.”

“In other news, Tony Stark, also known as the Avengers team member Iron Man and figurehead of Stark Industries has seemingly dropped off the corporate map. There is speculation that the billionaire playboy has been consumed by his role as a ‘super-hero’ and has all but left his father’s company in the dust.”

“JARVIS,” Tony groaned into his bed sheets, head pounding and neck pulsing in synchronization. “Turn that shit off.”

“I think you need to hear this,” came a reply from a very feminine voice. Tony grimaced and slowly rolled over, opening his eyes to see one Pepper Potts, looking as professional as ever in a navy suit that hugged her slender frame and her fiery hair pulled neatly into a ponytail.

“Hey, Pep,” Tony said, voice scratchy. He coughed twice, wincing each time it rattled his brain. He tried to sit up, but quickly realized that any kind of movement induced the great desire to puke. The billionaire settled on lying on his side, blood-shot brown eyes looking up at Pepper from his pillow.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Pepper said, tone clipped. “Are you trying to foster alcoholism? Is that how you plan to kill off the great Tony Stark? A poisoned liver?!”

“I got into a bit of a scrape yesterday,” Tony said, pointing to his throat lazily. “A real pain in the neck really-“

“A bit of a scrape?” Pepper asked disbelievingly. “Tony, you’ve been in bigger ‘scrapes’ than what happened yesterday!” Tony stayed silent, averting his gaze to the floor. He knew he had screwed up, that he’d been screwing up, but what did Pepper expect him to do?

“What is wrong, Tony?” Pepper asked, walking up to Tony’s bed. She leaned down as if to sit on the edge of the bed, before mentally talking herself out of it and straightening upwards again.

“Nothing is wrong, Pepper,” Tony said, raising his voice a bit. “What are you looking for? Some sort of deep, tragic issue or something?” There was a dangerous edge to his voice despite the fact that he was barely conscious on the bed, hair wild and eyes bloodshot.

“You’ve changed since the Battle,” Pepper said, voice pushing. “It’s worse than when you first started this Iron Man stint. You go out, save the day, then come back and drink your pain away. You’re barely invested in the company anymore. It’s like Tony Stark is gone and there’s nothing left but that damn suit. I’m tired of seeing you this way!”

“Then look the other way!” Tony snapped, sitting up. Pepper took a step back, as if shot. Her blue eyes widened and the hurt that washed over her face was evident. Tony felt a stab of regret in his chest. His head pounded, his ears ringing. Pepper set her mouth in a firm line and locked her eyes with Tony’s.

“I’m going to finish signing these forms for Stark Industries’ newest project,” Pepper said. “Let me know when you want to be involved in your company again.” She looked from Tony to the plasma screen television, which was broadcasting footage of Iron Man flying about the city, citizens flocking the streets just to see him rocket by, before walking out the door, heeling clicking down the hall.

Tony flopped back down on his bed, groaning at the pain in his head. He rolled over onto his side, trying to block the television from view.

“JARVIS, turn the TV off.” The screen blinked off, leaving Tony in a suffocating silence. He rolled over and closed his eyes, expelling the air from his lungs. The blankets around him felt constricting, confining. With a flourish, Tony threw them off of his body. He needed air.

The sky was overcast, not threatening rain but blanketed by a fluffy veil of clouds. Tony took a deep breath of air and closed his eyes, leaning against the railing of his balcony. He was formulating his apology to Pepper when he heard the solid sound of boots stepping across the floor, slow and lazy.

“You really have a marvelous view of the city.” Tony’s eyes snapped opened and he turned, one hand gripping the railing and the other ready to pull the bracelets out of his pockets that called his suit to him. He was never without them these days.

“How did you get around my security?” Tony asked, cursing JARVIS in his head.

“It’s rather easy to be invisible when you want to be, or to lure your enemy into a trap.” Tony growled, eyes burning into Loki. Loki seemed unaffected, even amused. “Just as easy as it is to convince my oaf of a brother to leave Midgard to defend his precious home.” Tony furrowed his brow.

“You did what?” As soon as the words left his mouth, JARVIS spoke overhead.

“Sir, you have an incoming call from Steve Rogers.”

“Answer.”

“Tony,” Steve said overhead. “Thor’s gone.” The super-soldier sounded frustrated and confused. Tony glared at Loki, who watched Tony with a bemused expression. “He said that Asgard was in trouble and left. We have no idea how he got this information.”

“I may have an idea or two,” Tony said, eyes never leaving the trickster. “I’ll meet you later to discuss the details.”

“Tony-“ But JARVIS had already disconnected the call. Tony turned his body towards Loki now, shoulders back, hand already pulling the bracelets out of his pocket.

“So,” he started, walking towards the god. “You sent Thor on a wild goose chase to Daddy to lower our numbers?” Loki chuckled and crossed his arms.

“It is not a ‘goose chase’. Asgard is under attack, and what better way to convince him to leave? I didn’t even have to spin any lies.”

“And we all know how much you love to lie, Silvertongue,” Tony said, clicking the bracelets into place. He wasn’t going to call his suit to him just yet, not until Loki made a threatening move. 

“I was not aware Midgardian’s knew me by that name,” Loki said, letting his hands fall to his side, eyes flashing. “I’m flattered.”

“Well, lying wasn’t the first thing I thought of when I found that particular nickname out, let me tell you,” Tony said with a smirk. Loki narrowed his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Oh, really?” The god took slow steps towards the billionaire. “I’m sure your thoughts were more of a vulgar nature.” Tony barked a laugh, but held his ground.

“You know, you’re always so confident,” Tony said, cocking his head to the side. “Sometimes I think you rival me in the ego department, but what do you have to be confident about?” Tony’s eyes lost their joking gleam. He was serious now. Loki was getting on his last nerve playing hide and seek and flashing his superiority all over the place and endangering innocent people.

Loki stopped in his tracks, looking at Tony down his long, thin nose. His hands twitched at his side, as if his fingers were dying to wrap themselves around Tony’s throat.

“I mean,” Tony said, cocking his head to the other side, eyes judging. He pointed a finger at Loki.  “You weren’t in line for the throne of Asgard, and when you did get it because of Thor being a little kill-happy, you screwed it all up and tried to destroy an entire race. Then you come here and try to take over Earth, and even with a giant army of aliens behind you, you still can’t seem to make yourself a king.”

“Stark,” Loki growled threateningly.

“And now,” Tony continued, taking a step forward, “You’re being hunted down by the guys who were on your side. You’re prey just like the rest of us. What exactly do you have to be confident about?”

Loki looked positively furious. His eyes bore into Tony’s; a poisonous green that flashed with fire. The god’s jaw was clenched tight, and the hands by his sides were balled into fists, itching to punch the victorious look off of Tony’s face.

“You certainly love pushing buttons,” Loki said, almost in a hiss. The fury in his eyes died a little, but Tony knew it was hidden by a carefully constructed veil. “And you certainly know how to push mine.” He approached Tony now, looking very much like a panther on the prowl. Tony stood his ground, but his heart was thundering. He felt like he’d just kicked sand in a cobra’s face.

The god made no move to attack Tony, but he came closer and closer, pressing into the genius’s personal space. Tony could feel the magic crackling around Loki’s body. It made his hair stand on end, goose bumps erupt along his skin, a shiver slither down his spine. If Tony wasn’t in eminent danger, he’d say it was an amazing feeling.

“Do you like feeling as though you have power over someone?” Loki said softly, less than a foot away from Tony. “The feeling that you can manipulate their emotions, their actions, by just saying a few words that you know will provoke them, shake them to their core.” Loki was very close now, closer than Tony expected. He was so shocked he forgot all about the bracelets, his eyes wide as he stared into Loki’s. The god was mere inches away, so close that Tony had to look up to look at Loki’s face.

“If you’re trying to say we’re not so different, you’re wrong,” Tony said, nearly wincing at the sound of his own voice sounding so breathless. Loki smirked. His eyes trailed down to look at Tony’s exposed neck, where the bruises shaped like fingers stood out in a startling contrast against his skin.

“Because you’re on one side and I’m on the other? There are many facets of war.”

“So this is war then?” Tony asked, raising his eyebrows. Loki licked his lips, and Tony followed the movement with his eyes.

“It’s always been war,” Loki replied, eyes flicking back up to look at Tony. “It’s just a matter of who becomes the victor.”

“Do you plan on winning before they come after you?” Tony asked. Loki frowned, taking a step back. Tony felt an unusual pang of sympathy. He felt sorry for the god. He was doomed to die, counting down the days and just trying to do something worthwhile before his time ran out, even if his goal was seriously wrong.

“I must leave,” Loki said, throat dry. The god was frustrated at the human’s ability to worm under his skin and voice exactly what his problems were. Tony exhaled as Loki stepped away from him, the air stilling around him. Loki was gone before Tony could say anything.

The billionaire groaned, hand shooting up to fist in his hair. He turned and walked back into his penthouse, heading towards his room to change clothes.

“Call Steve,” Tony commanded as he pulled a t-shirt over his head, his arc reactor glowing through the fabric.

“Yes, sir.”

After a brief pause, Steve’s voice echoed through the penthouse.

“Tony?”

“Hey, Steve,” Tony said, pulling a pair of pants on. “Just had a chat with our friendly neighborhood mischief god.”

“You did what?”

“Yeah,” Tony said. “And I’m thinking we’re going to have a bigger problem than being short a thunder god and chasing around his brother.” There was the sound of a sigh, and Tony could picture Steve pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Well, we’ve got Clint and Natasha back on the team,” Steve said, finally. “Bruce will be back with us once he’s finished in Dublin. You can debrief us as soon as you’re ready.”

“How about now?” Tony asked, heading towards the door. “Conference room C.”

“I-okay,” Steve said. “I’ll let Clint and Natasha now and we’ll be there in five.”

“Make it two,” Tony said and hung up. He pressed the button for the elevator and tapped his foot impatiently. His adrenaline was jumping under his skin. This was a thrill, figuring things out. He couldn’t get this kind of thrill running a big corporate company. At the thought he felt guilt worm its way down his throat, and he tried to push the thought from his mind. Right now, this was more important.

“So I hear you’re getting visits from tall, dark, and gruesome,” Clint said the moment Tony walked through the door. The archer was leaning against the wall, arms crossed tightly across his chest. Natasha was on the other side of the room, mirroring his pose. They booth looked calculating and collected. Steve looked ready to explode, tapping his foot impatiently as he stared at Tony from the other side of the room.

“What’s going on here, Tony?” he asked. Tony took a deep breath and explained everything he’s observed about Loki. He explained that Loki was the one to tell Thor that Asgard was in trouble, and how Loki’s a walking target for the Chitauri.

“The Chitauri could be back, and this time they’ll be against him,” Tony explained.

“Shit,” Clint cursed, not having moved from his place on the wall. Tony nodded. They had just started repairing the city of the damage the Chitauri brought upon it. The last thing they needed was another attack.

“But the Chitauri can’t get here unless they have the Tesseract,” Natasha interjected. All eyes turned to her. She uncrossed her arms and placed her hands on her hips.

“It’s the thing that creates these portals between worlds, right?” she asked, looking to Clint. “Without it, Earth is cut off to them.”

“She’s right,” Clint said, eyes moving from Natasha to Steve, whose face was somber. “They can’t touch us without the cube, and that’s all the way in…” He trailed off. Tony could watch the realization and horror wash over Clint’s face. It was like watching a car crash.

“Oh no,” Steve said, blue eyes widening. He looked over at Tony with an opened mouth. The only one in the room who seemed to not be startled by the realization was Natasha, who was the picture of composure.  

“It looks like we’re not as finished with the Chitauri as we thought we were,” she said, walking towards the middle of the room.

“So what’s the plan?” Clint asked, looking between Tony and Steve. Tony shook his head, turning to the super-soldier instead.

“Cap?” he asked. “What’s our orders?” Steve seemed to be thinking very hard. One of his arms was across his chest, the other resting on top of it as his fingers rested on his lips. His eyes were downcast, brow furrowed.

“They’re not out to attack us this time,” he said, sounding thoughtful. “They’re after Loki, not us.”

“Then give them what they want,” Clint said, eyes hard. Silence filled the room, heavy, suffocating. Natasha and Clint locked eyes, an understanding passing between them. Tony squirmed where he stood, and he could tell by the look on Steve’s face that apprehension was worming its way under his skin. He wasn’t the kind of person to throw someone under the bus, even if they were bad.

Tony drummed his fingers on the arc reactor, grimacing at the tension that was filling the room. He had to do something before everyone’s heads exploded or Clint hunted Loki down and offered him as a human sacrifice to appease the aliens.

“Let’s sleep on it,” Tony said finally, shattering the silence in the room. Everyone’s eyes locked on the billionaire; Clint and Natasha looking at him in disbelief and Steve giving him a small, appreciative smile.

“Asgard’s got Thor to protect them for now,” Tony said, looking between the two master assassins. “That should give us enough time to come up with a plan. Who knows? Maybe the Thunder God will finish them off. They weren’t exactly left with a lot of numbers when I flew that bomb into their home.”

“We don’t have enough information to assume Thor can handle it,” Natasha argued, frowning. “For all we know, he could be overwhelmed and we could be under attack by tomorrow.” Tony gulped, but stood his ground.

“I don’t think anything’s going to happen soon. I’m sure we’d be able to tell by Loki’s behavior if it was.”

“Because you’re such good pals with thus guy,” Clint said, eyes sharp. Tony gritted his teeth.

“I’m not trying to stick up for the bastard, but I’m not about to resort to sacrificing a human being either!”

“He’s not even human!” Clint exclaimed. “He’s a god. He’s above us. Think about it, sacrificing a god to save the human race-“

“Yeah, that’ll satisfy your need for a power play,” Tony retorted. Clint glared daggers at the Iron Man. Tony glared back, feeling anger bubble dangerously under his skin.

The two men stared each other down, negative energy saturating the air. Finally, Natasha quietly walked up to Clint and laid a hand on his shoulder, softly squeezing it as she whispered something into his ear. He hesitated for a moment, eyes looking like they were going to look away but not willing to, but then Clint seemed to deflate. He turned his back on Tony without a word and walked out the door, Natasha following close behind. Tony watched them exit, gaze hard. Steve sighed and walked up to stand beside the billionaire.

“We’ll figure something out,” he said. “Hopefully by not getting blood on our hands.”

“I already have blood on my hands,” Tony said, casting his eyes down. “What’s with a little more?” With that, the genius walked out the door, leaving Steve to look on with a weary gaze. The super soldier was fighting an inner battle, one that he never liked to face. Some things were necessary in war, but that didn’t make them right. He’d seen commanders give orders that made his skin crawl, made him want to scream at the immorality of it all. There were things you just didn’t do.

But it’s kill or be killed, and Steve would die himself before damning the world.