Tony Stark is a sciency guy. His lines are absolutes, wherever those lines are placed and whatever they are.
Contrary to popular believe, though, Tony is a family guy, too. And nobody hurts his family without severe consequences.
People label him the Merchant of Death.
They are not wholely wrong.
Story notes:
1. Events of The Avengers are rather AU-ish, given the wildly different background to how the team is formed, and it's even farther away from canon after the scene in the forest in Germany. Events of the Thor films are mostly ignored, except for Thor: Tales of Asgard, and some pieces of the second film.
2. Warnings for sheer Tony-ness, including cheeky language and plenty of swearwords (especially towards the end), darkish and vengeful perspective, some hints to casual sexual relationships earlyish in the fic, and of course his special brand of mushy fluff, since this is all in his point of view.
3. The first shot is the background till The Avengers film. The second one is the aftermath. The former is huger than the latter, and thus far I've yet just sketches of what'll happen next. Thoughts, opinions, criticisms and ideas would be quite welcome, as I'm writing the second shot. Beware, though, as I wrote this first shot for weeks before it's ever finished, the second one might take just as long, or even longer.
Specialisation: Avenging
By Rey
Tony Stark was nineteen years old when his parents became permanently absent from his life. With them having always been absent in his upbringing, he silently wondered why their deaths felt… jarring, in a numb loss sort of way.
He tried to make sense of that, tried to fill the loss too, by imbibing copious amounts of alcohol – more than the usual, anyway. But Obi and Rhodey managed to stay at least a step ahead of his alcohol-procuring schemes each time, and the one bottle of fodka per day that they allowed was never enough.
Desperate, he turned to his late father's unfinished businesses. – For acknowledgement from a ghost, for self-satisfaction of finishing what his old man would never be able to do, or for something else, he didn't know – didn't care to know.
It was easy to choose, what he was going to do now. His father had always been talking about Captain America this, Captain America that. His father had always compared him unfavourably against that dead man, buried in ice somewhere. His father had always been absent in his life for that dead man, for all the futile attempts fumbling and digging round the Arctics to find that quadruple-damned Captain America.
So, of course, in his alcohol-deprived, sleepless, scrambled mind, then, he decided he was going to take up the Arctic expedition.
Alone.
In December.
Until now, he still wonders, what made him do that; and, more importantly, what made him come out alive from that suicidal solo mission.
But alive he was, although severely battered and hypothermic. And, more importantly for some, he went home toting a makeshift ice cube of a coffin containing the sleeping beauty named Captain America.
They shared a hospital room, in fact, since, miraculously for some, Captain America turned out to still be alive after all that long.
The double-date news was sensational.
The consequences was even more than that.
Obi was furious.
Aunt Peggy was heartbroken again.
SHIELD – one of the shadiest spy agencies Tony knew – came a-calling and a-bothering.
And HYDRA, too; which was worse, because they came in to kill, or maybe capture, not to recruit.
Tony, still groggy with remmnants of the hypothermia and exhaustion the fretting doctors had diagnosed him of having, downed the impolite people from the second agency with food trays, bedpans, the cables attached to the even-groggier Captain America, the plastic fork from his unappetising lunch, and the plastic bowl with the unappetising broth in it.
After all, he was the son of a weapon manufacturer.
And after all, however much he disliked Captain America for his father's preference on that man over him, sheer human decency didn't allow him to just stay still when guns began to aim at that man.
Tranq guns, no less, for most of them, which could signify something worse than death.
But, to a fuming Obi much later, he explained, "Well, I dragged that sleeping beauty from the Arctic myself, after all. If he's dead, then what use is me freezing my butts off back then?"
Obi looked… strange, at that, so Tony refused to be parted from a recovering Captain America – no, no, Steven Rogers, now – and silently, silently hired his own people to guard the both of them day and night.
His first hire's named Clint Barton, a thirteen-year-old kid who was damn good with archery and climbing, of all things; runaway from a circus which happened to be performing somewhere in Malibu. Obi thought he was going to adopt the kid as a brother or something.
Well, after the kid had saved him and Rogers from a HYDRA ambush just blocks away from his Malibu home, he was beginning to like that idea, actually.
But little Hawkeye – Tony bestowed the kid that nickname for his gratitude, yes he did! – wasn't enough. Clint was good, that little monkey who climbed and jumped rooftops as if on level ground and shot his arrows from those high places like a mini Robinhood, but he was still a kid, and Tony refused to work him to the ground, however eager the said kid would oblige him, with money and games and home and lots of food and lots of other things as the payment.
So he hired again… and, this time, got a gorgeous chick for his efforts.
Well, he wouldn't ask Clint where the kid had gotten her. Every man needed some secrets to stay secret, after all; a soon-to-be-man wasn't an exception, in his book.
The said gorgeous beauty was named Natalia Alianovna. But when asked by Obi, she introduced herself as Natalie Rushman. And when SHIELD came a-calling again, late at night at that, she introduced herself as Natasha Romanov.
Tony had a suspicion that he'd gotten the real name out of her. And for the first time in his life, he vowed nobody would get that name out of his lips.
Not because she's gorgeous as hell, or as terrifying… although, he's got to admit, those aspects did play some role in his decision.
He called her Tasha, after the nicknaming custom of her people the Russians. She put a blade against his lips for that, but she smiled when he smiled, so it's okay in his book.
He tried to matchmake her with Rogers, but it wasn't okay in her book, so he stopped.
He learnt manners, yes he did! Although Obi perhaps, maybe, probably, would rather he use the said manners for his outdoors social relationships, instead of the home one.
Well, Obi's wishes could go to hell. Tony wasn't losing his painstakingly built and maintained outdoors image as a gorgeous genius billionaire and playboy extraordinaire.
He'd lost his parents. He wasn't going to lose his image.
Nor was he willing to lose the semblance of a home that he was beginning to have; an odd one at that, unconventional, but conventional's boring anyway. Rogers – no, Steve, now – decorated the Malibu house so it's truly a home; Clint's a cheeky, smart, sharp-eyed tagalong in his escapades; and Tasha… Well, this last one was complicated for the longest time ever, especially after he'd managed to coax her into his bed that one time.
But complicated or not, boring-old-man hobby or not, cheeky monkeying or not, they're all he had, aside from Obi and Dad's company and Aunt Peggy too, and he found he's fierce when he's defending what's his.
He proved it, yes he did, when HYDRA came a-calling not long after SHIELD had, which felt suspicious as hell when he examined the occurrences with his folks days afterwards.
Days afterwards, yes, not on that very day; because on the said day – or rather, in the dead of night – HYDRA sent him the fuckin' Winter Soldier…
…Who broke a bullet-proof window, with his damn metal arm…
…Who got shot ten arrows by damn accurate Hawkeye – on both shoulders and somewhere on the back near the neck and who knew wherever else – but still went on as if nothing had happened…
…Who played knives with Tasha the Black Widow as if a pair of fighting cats…
Well, who filled Tony with five burning burning burning burning damn hell burning pieces of lead, too…
…But who broke off and looked like a deer caught in headlights when Steve rasp-shouted, "Bucky!"
No, Tony didn't prove his fierceness by his fighting prowess – or fighting back, at all, in that first salvo, to his long-lasting shame. He was in fact fighting to stay awake despite the agony riddling his chest and hands and gut.
But he did manage to shield a sobbing Steve and a stupidly gaping Winter Soldier with Captain America's shield, despite all the blood loss, until Tasha and Clint had downed all the HYDRA agents that had tried to come in after their attack dog.
He called that "fierce." He still does, in fact. Nobody ever knows this opinion of his, but that's all right. He's never a mushy type of person, anyway, and Clint would tease him endlessly for such mushiness and un-heroic pose if he talked about it.
Well, who would look heroic, anyway, holding up the one-of-a-kind vibranium shield like a damn umbrella while garbed in blood-soaked pyjamas and swaying as if in a waltz?
And then the princess-swooning aftermath, caught by a messily crying Steve to boot…
He spent weeks laid up in the hospital with bullet wounds he couldn't boast of about. But in mere days into the confinement, after boredom had truly set in and managed to defeat the constant pain he'd been feeling, he'd come up with the suspicion about SHIELD and HYDRA and whatever's going between them. Tasha's investigating, while she wasn't being a gorgeous, terrifying angel at his bedside. Clint's the only source of fun that he had in that boring boring boring damn hell boring hospital room. And Steve…
Well, Steve was there, too, with the person who'd shot him in the first place. But that's all right, because that person's trying to recover too, and no longer looking or behaving so much like the Winter Soldier. And, well… he's Steve's, and Tony could get lots of blackmail materials by just observing how mushy Captain America could be with his previously-thought-dead best friend.
Memory-wiped previously-thought-dead best friend.
The fact which, added with his suspicion about SHIELD's secret relationship with HYDRA, enraged Aunt Peggy beyond measure… which in turn made him inwardly frightened for her health. She's not a spry forty anymore, after all!
That time, that day, he hadn't taken into account that other things could've killed her as surely as a massive heart attack could.
Tasha was there when the attack came, fortunately. And, something that earned her Tony's undying loyalty, she shielded Aunt Peggy from most of the attack.
The hospital room got stuffed, with persons of interest no less, so Tony got the initiative to speedily turn one of the wings in his house into a makeshift – later permanent – hospital bay. And, since it's a very, very, very high-risk job, highly confidential as well, he gave the nursing work to a newly trained, newly deployed pararescue team, whose metal bird-wings he'd previously supplied. They doubled as watchdogs – well, watchbirds – and the Air Force gleefully used this chance to train them further in both medical care and scouting. They got supplied with the brand-new hand-held and shoulder-mounted weapons for air-to-land and air-to-air strikes Tony'd quickly cobbled together, too, and they got to test and play with them during their off time in the remote locations both Stark Industries and the Air Force provided.
It was, as people say it, a month of bliss.
Well, a month and five days, as it was.
Because, at the end of the fifth day, HYDRA tried to break into the hospital bay.
And then, four good, awesome, caring, jokular, handsome young men were reduced into just one.
The wings and weapons worked perfectly. The team coordination worked even more perfectly. The weapon handling that the remaining intact security cameras had managed to record was also awesome.
But there were lots of HYDRA coming; like ants, really. Versus just four awesome guys and four invalided targets and two non-invalided ones.
They were good, but the HYDRA goons were surprisingly many, and they'd been caught somewhat wrong-footed by that show of boldness.
"Somewhat" and "totally not" was just like sky and earth in a military operation, though, sadly.
Sam Wilson, codenamed Falcon, was the only one left from the team of four. He quitted the Air Force on the spot, and fled into the middle of nowhere as soon as the paperwork went through.
A twenty-two-year-old, losing his whole world – his friends, his career, his dreams. He might just as well have lost his life.
It made Tony burn from inside.
HYDRA was going to truly be just a bad patch of history. It was his second vow, and he meant it.
He wasn't alone in that, at that.
They called themselves the Avengers Team: Tony Stark, Steven Rogers, Clint Barton, Natalia Alianovna, Peggy Carter, and the-one-who-was-yet-to-name-himself. Rhodey Rhodes eagerly assisted them, albeit in secret, usually with his military contacts, and joined in a few missions as well. Phil Coulson, Nick Fury and Maria Hill from SHIELD facilitated them in this endeavour. Phil Coulson, being the Captain America fanboy that he was – that he still is – even went as far as becoming one of the team in secret, just like Rhodey.
The team had gained a new ally in Tony's new chauffeur, too, Harold "Happy" Hogans, who was awesome with both land and air transports, who was unafraid of getting dirty in all senses of the word in order to assist them, who could keep his mouth and expressions shut like a pro.
They plotted. They investigated. They infiltrated. They burnt.
But HYDRA, the hydra that it was, grew two more heads when one was cauterised.
They felt helpless; until, in one of the HYDRA bases they'd managed to find, before they'd razed it to the ground like all others, they found a dazed young man in one of the experiment rooms that made the now-named Bucky freak out.
The said dazed young man called himself Loki of Asgard, away to Midgard originally for a solo sightseeing escapade.
Neither of the team believed him. But if this lunatic wanted to claim himself a clever trickster god, then…
Well, he proved himself, anyhow.
But the proof the Avengers at last accepted unanimously wasn't the total eradication of HYDRA; no, it wasn't.
It was the defences and care that he gifted them.
No harm could come to them, with his protection wrapped tightly round them and their home. No plan was too much, when he put his fingers and mind into it.
He became one of their own, their family, before any of them knew it, realised it, understood it. And when one's family, everything becomes much easier to believe, doesn't it always?
One of those days, the last day before the trickster not-god – according to Loki himself – went back to the now-believed Asgard in fact, he even brought yet another member into their tight-knit fold, as some sort of parting gift: a gamma-radiation pioneer who got blown up by his own experiment, who'd been semi-forcefully tasked to find an alternative to the Supersoldier Serum firstly used on Captain America, which had since then been half-reinvented and applied by force for the Winter Soldier and the Black Widow.
Steve opined that this was the downside of never announcing that the so-called Captain America was alive to take up the mantel of figurehead again.
Aunt Peggy raged at him, called him a hundred ways an idiot for ever thinking he didn't deserve anonymity and peace and the right for his own dreams.
Tony and Clint and Bucky watched the dressing down with glee.
Tasha and Loki and Happy tried to look indifferent and failed spectacularly.
Bruce Banner the gamma-radiation pioneer, who now could turn into an awesome green rage monster, looked so painful in his awkward bashfulness.
Phil the fanboy and a visiting Rhodey couldn't decide whether to frown or laugh at the tableau.
Well, but Loki must come home – no, to Asgard, in Tony's firm opinion, because home's here on earth – soon or his excursion would be noticed, so the entertainment must sadly end all too quickly. He didn't return to Asgard empty-handed, though. Tony gifted him with a pendant hand-forged by Happy with Tony's own best metal alloy, with the – thus far secret – Avengers logo on one side molded over the surface by Rhodey; Bruce carved "AVENGERS" to the other side of it; Aunt Peggy and Tasha provided their braided locks as the necklace to hang it from; Clint added twelve little wooden charms in various shapes – one for each of them, plus one for the missing Sam the Falcon – to the necklace; Steve and Bucky had priorly painted on the charms with their colours; and Phil… well, Agent had somehow managed to steal the pendant before it'd been presented and attached to the necklace, had gotten his hands on a fine metal drill and what sounded like a pinch of tiny metal balls, and inserted those tiny things into the pendant, so that it let out a sweet tinkling sound when shaken.
That last one was hilarious.
Agent reasoned that Loki looked and behaved much like a clever, calm, curious stalking cat, so Loki – alien god-like being or not – deserved some cool cat bells.
It was even more hilarious, for that.
And the most hilarious thing was, shortly after fastening the necklace round his neck, Loki did turn into a cat – a kitten, really, all black, fluffy, with a pair of green eyes, brightened with mischief and something else that Tony was sure they all would like to think as just water from… well, some invisible dirt, maybe? – and, after the first playful pounce, he gamboled up Agent's body to the gawking man's head and perched there, with his long long long black fluffy tail wrapped round Agent's head, much like a makeshift crown.
Tony was thankful for this last gift unknowingly given and received, yes he did. The good memories sustained Tony for a good while, and he was sure they sustained the others as well. Because Loki didn't visit for a long time, and they began to wonder if he would ever come back again, but life must go on.
Loki's absence made Tony look into astrophysics, though; the only silver lining in his cloudy mood, really, since even researching for new weapons and other knick-knacks didn't appeal to him any longer by then. Loki had told them all about Iggdrasill, about the nine realms, about the Bifrost, and even about the secret paths that he liked to take in-between worlds. Tony would like to know more about those, would like to be able to connect and communicate with those other worlds, would like to get Loki back – because real family should stay together, right? So he wanted to make earth's own Bifrost machine and connect it to Asgard, if not yet to other worlds. It'd be cooler, later, if he could also build some intergalactic mobile phone…
So, he got in communication with Erik Selvig, a leading astrophysicist, and the man's student, Jane Foster.
They got on like a wooden, gasoline-bathed house on fire in a droughty summer.
Neither Tony nor his folks told the pair of astrophysicists about Loki, though, for some reason, although the pair had slowly but surely and certainly wormed their unknowing way into the family's affection and trust.
But then again, the Avengers were perfectly aware that they were a super secretive bunch. Not even Nick Fury and Maria Hill truly knew what they thought about and planned and did, not even when the HYDRA eradication had been going on.
Years passed rather uneventfully, and without Loki at that, though Sam the Falcon did come back and visited, if just because he viewed Aunt Peggy like his own mother. The progress on earth's Bifrost was little, though it's certainly – thankfully – not none at all, with Tony's knack for everything science and engineering, Erik's knowledge and ingenuity, and Jane's studious determination. Tony did notice that Aunt Peggy didn't seem to age a day, ever spry and ever eager for the world–
–Well, she's getting younger and younger and younger and younger and younger, actually, somehow, till she matched Steve's age–
–But Tony said nothing to that, nor did he think about it, in fear of some… rash decisions – rasher than all his other decisions, anyway, as per Obi's opinion. If he thought of it too much, after all, he would've just built the first man-manned long-distance exploring spaceship and searched for Asgard himself to drag Loki home and hug that-kid-that's-not-a-kid into semi-death for this precious precious precious gift.
Tony hired a personal assistant at last, after a full decade had passed, unable to pretend any longer, and chose to dedicate his work more on both the spaceshift and earth's Bifrost, instead of Dad's company and all the hassles that came with it. Virginia "Pepper" Potts was perfect in all that counted; and, unlike with Tasha, Tony's relationship with her wasn't at all complicated by some sordid past of hers. He began to shift more and more responsibilities to her, after she'd run the gaunlet that was his family.
Well, most of his family. Tony'd like to know how she'd fare against Loki. If Loki found her trustworthy and competent and good, Tony'd give her Dad's company so he could focus on other things. It was his third vow.
And in order to fulfill that vow, to be able to reach Loki to complete the set of judgements, he'd have to finish either the spaceship or earth's Bifrost or both. What a vicious circle…
But Tony's nothing but a tenacious, ingenious creature when he wants to be, always.
Henry "Hank" Pym became his new partner in not-crime, with the man's theories and applications on particle matters. And, as before, this latest science bro brought a student, by the name of Scott Lang, in addition to various gadgets and ideas and a whole new jar of possibilities.
Stark Tower was, consequently, built, although Tony would rather call it Avengers Tower and blare the name of his family to the world at large. Tony sold the idea for the awesome hundred-story building to the board of directors and to the share holders as a way to make stark International more renown, as well as to provide a more centralised and complete research and service centre for the company – or, well, conglomerate, rather, by now, since other members of the Avengers had contributed other venues and ideas for businesses that he'd eagerly snapped up, and SI was now known not only as a weapon manufacturer. Those stuffy old men and women never knew the real reason.
They still don't, and they won't ever, if Tony has a say in the matter, and he does.
But as it was, Tony dedicated only the first twenty-five floors for SI businesses and for some community-service offices like the Red Cross.
The others? Well, he got ten floors just for labs, most of which were just for family use, and two of the four basement floors were for the firing ranges and training sal, and each of the Avengers got a floor for their private use…
Given this arrangement, added on by some other quirks, the new ones were beginning to notice, inevitably, that there was always somebody missing from their midst. One set of diningware – green and black and gold and silver – was never used; one whole floor – sandwiched between Clint's and Bucky's – was kept empty but for some basic colouring design in green and black and gold and silver; one comfy couch that a certain missing someone had liked to lounge in had been brought to Manhattan all the way from Malibu, only to sit empty and unoccupied in the communal entertainment floor each time the folks gathered for film-binging and games and snacking and chatting; there's an empty floor in the lab area, too, ready to be stocked up but never was…
They asked, inevitably.
Tony locked himself in his labs for weeks, for that, and threw himself on work – any work that he could find, which for once didn't have to do with intergalactic travel or communication.
He didn't have the chance to apologise to the newer folks, unfortunately. By the time Pepper and Tasha and Aunt Peggy – horrors of all horrors – had managed to drag him out of his funk, Sam had returned to his veteran counselling job in Washington DC for the season, Erik and Jane had retreated to some obscure little town in New Mexico to observe some space anomaly from closer, Hank and Scott had travelled somewhere else to try on one of their experiments, and Tony was to attend the live presentation of his weapon division's newest missile.
He never returned.
Not as the old Tony Stark, anyhow.
Being isolated for long stretches of time and waterboarded plus electricuted and watching someone else being tortured in your place because you somehow can't be hurt change someone, indelibly, after all, however long or short you are in those sick people's hands.
Tony didn't know whether to weep or rage or laugh, when the missing Avenger suddenly popped up, in his makeshift jail cell, to rescue him, alone, with that pendant on that necklace hanging from that lazy-cat's neck, citing that matters in Asgard had been inescapable these few months.
Months. – Loki thought he'd been gone for only months. – Loki, who'd given Tony the unknown, invisible protection that had saved this particular prisoner from bullets and physical torture devises, something that hadn't extended to Yinsen the whipping boy. – Loki, who'd arrived too late to save Yinsen…
The said lucky prisoner settled for hugging the enraged, bemused, relieved Asgardian as hard as he could, with suspiciously wet eyes that neither of them mentioned about; then, together, they avenged him and Yinsen on the ones who'd taken them.
Together, as always, as it should be.
And afterwards, Tony made a vow of silence. He wouldn't speak until the Ten Rings was wholely eradicated.
Sadly, he also couldn't see Loki without seeing and hearing the ghost of Yinsen's tortured self. A decade and a half waiting for just this moment, and their reunion was ruined. – Story of his life.
But Loki did settle into the tower, beloved couch and all, even if for just a few weeks, and Tony did draw comfort from that, even as he built the Ironman suit to help him track and take down those who had tortured a human being to death just for missiles. – Silver lining, yes, Tony's somewhat good in finding such things, sometimes.
He couldn't help breaking down, though, and breaking this one vow, a little bit, when a thoroughly exhausted and wretched Loki came up to him in his workshop one day, and presented him with shielding bracelets that he could give to anybody without being seen and noticed by anybody else. "For protection, for those in your favour that I have not previously known," the not-god said softly, not meeting Tony's eyes. "For those… who are not we."
It was a little too late for Yinsen, but not for others.
There's not going to be any more "Yinsen the Whipping Boy" out there, if he – no, they – could help it.
The tax these things had put on his family member, though, which was partially fueled by Tony's own doing, just before the said family member was to go away again at that…
Well, story of Tony's life, indeed.
Still, this also fit in what he'd been wanting to do, too. So without further ado, he made a press conference on the front steps of their tower, announcing that he was closing down the weapons division of Stark International, and that Virginia "Pepper" Potts was to be CEO of the said conglomerate, effective immediately.
Those creatures had killed an innocent civilian for his missiles. Those much-lauded death bringers had been misappropriated by the wrong side, as well, and Tony couldn't – wouldn't – stand for it. Loki's gift and imminent departure and similar hauntedness just sealed the deal, really; pushed him much faster and much more eagerly to where he wanted to go. Besides, with this gift and this lack of huge responsibility to his dad's company, Tony could perhaps, maybe, probably, possibly, start to begin to try to hope to heal himself.
The cacophony of gossips and outraged yells and stomping feet and loud eyerolls and sighing headshakes that resulted from that bombshell was a perfect sendoff for this chaos-loving, mischief-making, attention-craving brother of his, one who had shared the tail-end of the hell he'd experienced in that cave in Afghanistan. It could be counted as a silver lining, yes it could.
And he got repaid for that gift, no less. – Well, he got upstaged, rather, but for this once he didn't mind. Because Loki'd made an unbreakable communication mirror that could bridge the yet-unfathomable distance between worlds for him, and for the rest of the family too, tied to the other one that the Asgardian vowed to always keep close. That scamp even put an extra-huge one in the communal floor so that he would be able to see all the Avengers at once, should he wish it and should they be available.
Mystical video call: anytime, anywhere. Perfect.
It's only JARVIS, and possibly the faraway and purportedly all-seeing, all-hearing Heimdall as well, that witnessed how both proud males broke down in tears before Loki went back to Asgard for the second time, when Tony at last whispered, "I forgive you. I'm sorry, too, for blaming you. Come back soon, okay? Don't wait for whatever it is you call 'months'. It's fuckin' decades here!"
It's rather ironic – painfully so, at least to Tony – that, barely a month – an earth month, not an Asgardian month – since Loki was gone again, Erik sent word from New Mexico that Thor, Loki's brother, had somehow fallen from the sky near the makeshift lab the astrophysicist and his student had claimed as theirs. "It's raining gods on earth, huh?" Tony remarked in his most flippant voice to that, masking his disappointment. "You've missed the other half, buddy. I'm sorry. Maybe next time you'll get the full set?" But somewhat secretly, he sent Erik and Jane a very, very powerful tracking devise to be attached to the big brother, to see where it led, to see where the little brother – Tony's real target, always – was.
And both dear, dearest science siblings, plus their new assistant Darcy Lewis, went through with that, happily.
They even offered to ask Thor to blatantly pass the tracking devise meant for Loki should the said Asgardian be released from his exile, after a full day spent in the big brother's company. – "I don't know you long enough yet, Tony, but I have eyes to see and brain to think. I think I can figure out who is that missing person that you didn't want to talk about. I hope he'll come back soon and you'll stop moping," Eric said in his text message, and Tony could perfectly image the dry look and drier tone attached to the old gramps as he said that. And for once, Tony had no witty comeback for a return.
But, again, story of his life, that sweet, sweet prayer got twisted, into the darkest unimaginable possibility ever.
Loki did return, yesterday, based on the tracking devise Thor had apparently managed to give him or pin on him; but he's… changed, or so Fury claimed when that creepy pirate went a-calling this morning, and he's got Erik with him, as thrall. By then, Tony was beginning to bloody empathise how Steve must've felt when firstly finding out the identity of the Winter Soldier.
Fury wanted Tony and his folks to track down the Tesseract thingamabob and Loki and Erik, without giving any reason why. Judging from how intently the one-eye was eyeing Steve and Bucky and Tasha and Clint and Bruce and Aunt Peggy when they were all assembled in that boring conference room in this somewhat-spiffy huge aircraft-carrying aircraft, of course after overcoming some surprise on the roster of Tony's ragtag group, the reason's not going to be good – or at least entirely good.
Well, changed or not, Loki's still Tony's brother; Tony's yet to have the chance to fully induct the newer folks – including Erik – into his ever-expanding family, too. Not entirely good is never enough for the standards of his family's safety; and, additionally, Tony so hates being denied his chance at anything, with family being on the top of it.
Besides, if Bucky could return from severe torture and brainwashing…
Well, Tony just wouldn't stop until he got his missing buddy back.
The resolve got tested, severely, hours after half of the Avengers were assembled on the helicarrier.
Loki called, through the communication mirror. – Or rather, the person who occupied his body – the body of Tony's brother – called. – A mad, sneering face, caught between smugness and pain and revulsion and flatness and confusion; a pair of electric-blue eyes, radiating harshness and scorn and loss and agony, ever struggling with an unseen thing. – Where's the cheeky slyness? Where's the playful taunts? Where's the mischievous look? Where's the bright intelligence? Where're those damn green eyes, even?
The shell was there, but the person was not.
Bucky's damn right, that rare time when he'd been willing to talk about his decades under HYDRA. – "They carved me out, and put somebody else inside. A puppet for them, with my skills and my looks and my damn fuckin' bloody hands."
`The puppeteer has even taken over the communication mirror,` Tony remembers thinking, right after the presence of the caller had registered in his muddled brain. `And where's that damn pendant necklace, now? That monster had better not take that too!`
He wanted to rage. He wanted to destroy something. But the only thing that he could do was to sit stock still in the lab that Fury provided him and Bruce, thankful that Bruce wasn't there, weathering the harsh taunts and shrewd ridicule that pushed at all his buttons, delivered in the voice and half the face of his brother.
It's like Afghanistan, all over again. He's hurt, badly, but practically untouched.
But now, there's no Loki to save him.
He's got to save Loki, instead.
Somehow, the prospect sounded more daunting than eradicating HYDRA and the Ten Rings, right then.
But Tony's got to try, no? He's never one to back down.
Especially when his brother's looking so desperate, so torn, so—
Eh, he just wanted his brother back! – `And where's that pendant, now?`
The pendant… The little ball of cutesy black kitten…
"Stop it, KitKat. Whare are you now?"
The electric blue wavered. Tony had to force his face to freeze on the look of pained consternation he'd been wearing, or else he'd be grinning from ear to ear and ruin the chance, the effect he'd been having on the no-doubt buried memories of this shell.
"I want my cat back, you know," he continued. "Then again, I want my couch back, and that floor in my tower, and my necklace, and that last KitKat my cat stole."
The electric blue turned muddy turquoise.
The illusion round the other parts of the face, that Tony had of course never noticed before, dropped.
"Oh shit," was what came out of Tony's lips, unfortunately; far out of the script, quite unplanned, and…
The electric blue was back, stronger than ever.
A harsh, bitter, mocking laugh from the lips of that shell sprinkled the failure with added vinegar.
But what truly burnt Tony wasn't the failure, wasn't that colour – the colour he was beginning to hate, with his usual overflow of passion – either, or even the mocking laughter that twisted his brother's usual snickers so.
No, what burnt him like hellfire was the sheer reality of the situation.
Because underneath that illusion of perfection, Loki was a wreck.
Those unknown captors had dared to lay their grubby paws on his family member, just like HYDRA on Bucky.
And despite it all, that brother of his had managed to transmit that message to him.
"We'll come for you, KitKat, soon," was his promise, before he ended the contact. Loki'd made their job that much easier, igniting the nuclear fuel under his arse like this, and that lazy-cat's effort wouldn't be in vain.
When Bruce returned from the bathroom, Tony galvanised the both of them into officially locating Loki, if not the Tesseract. His hands itched too much with the temptation to simply grab the tracking monitor clipped onto his belt and find his brother right now, but SHIELD was watching, and possibly some remnants of HYDRA, too, because the Avengers hadn't managed to thoroughly clean house within this agency yet, especially those placed in this not-so-known flying base. So he had to play by the rules at the moment.
He was fuckin' mad about it.
And when he got mad, things got done.
Their cobbled-together equipment locked on Loki's location within half an hour.
The Avengers were suited up within minutes, afterwards.
They were all already off to Stuttgart, Germany, while Fury was still squawking and spluttering in shock, faced with the unexpected lightning-fast developments that didn't get told to him in full.
Well, shock and outrage.
After all, Tony had nabbed Agent from right under that trenchcoated Dementor's nose, for this retrieve-the-wayward-brothers mission. He'd even discretely asked for Rhodey the Platipus and Sam the Birdy and Scott the Ant Giant to stand by, to involve themselves in the mission if necessary, and otherwise to gather back home when everything's finished and done. He needn't worry for Pepper and his science siblings minus Brucey the Hulk, as Hank and Jane and her tagalong were lumped together somewhere secret already by Aunt Peggy when they'd been firstly called to answer this problem. That awesome now-so-young aunt of his had even come up with the perfect distraction for them, namely to retrieve Brucey's girlfriend Betty from wherever her draconian father had tried to secrete her away.
And all of them had been fitted with a shielding bracelet each.
Tony wouldn't have acted, if his family – the rest of his family – hadn't been accounted for, and safeguarded too, when all's said and done.
Tony always takes care of his family first; the world's second.
But they found only Loki, in Stuttgart; no Erik in sight.
Or rather, they found the person who wasn't Loki.
Because, seriously? What're these nonsensical things about kneeling before one's better and freedom's a lie and peace equals servitude?
`So crass, dude. Nope, that's not Loki. Doing good there, bro; keep talking, keep giving hints, keep injury to the minimum, kay? – No don't blast that old gramps–!`
And there, Captain America to the rescue…
Oh well, Iron Man, too!
Tony had to remind himself, stringently, not to hug this person that wasn't Loki, when the smarmy, stupid, insolent git was hustled up into the jet, in Loki's body.
And then, while in the air, Loki's other brother came thundering in, without so much as a by-your-leave, before punching Tony on the chest.
And in like manner, he stole Tony's prize, flying away like some damn seagull with some fuckin' fish.
Seriously?!
Tony was lucky that he was still in his Iron Man suit, or he would've been severely injured, if not dead.
And Jane claimed this dude's been reformed already? `Where's the evidence, you poor, smitten sister of mine? This dude'd better not hurt you, or, Loki's other brother or not, he's going to pay.`
Well, there's no reason why Tony shouldn't cash in early; forewarning, as it were.
A hundred square feet or so of trees became collateral damage. But no sentient being's hurt, and the land's not property of any poor farmer or the like anyway, so Tony considered it fair.
Thor was rattled by his fireworks.
Tony preened.
And then, he latched both Steve and not-yet-Loki to his Iron Man suit, before taking off, leaving a fuming and bewildered hunk of a bumbling blondy behind in the instant clearing they'd made among the trees.
And now, after some… recalibration… by Hulk of all people, after other attempts have failed and just made the family puke for the needful but useless torture-like actions, done in their secret base deep in the Himalayas with everyone present, Tony's finally holding his brother again.
He's got to fight with the others for that sweet, sweet prize, but no mind; the notion "Family shares with family" has been long pounded into his thick skull by everyone, anyway – mostly Steve and Aunt Peggy, though – and this way, this chaotic way, with all the limbs and all the voices tangling and one dark-and-gloomy Beanstalk half lying in the middle of it all, the message got through, better than a so-called "proper" greeting or congratulation could ever manage.
Now, they've just got to find Erik, and go home.