A/N: Hey guys! Here is Part One of the collection of deleted scenes from my fic 'How the Mighty Have Fallen'. The collection includes 'deleted' and 'alternate' scenes; deleted scenes can be inserted into the original plotline of the fic, but alternate scenes are AU to the HtMHF-verse! I should clarify that the majority of these scenes weren't actively cut from the story, they were just ideas that came to me after the chapters were posted, and a few are requests from readers. I really hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them!
Disclaimer: Marvel owns everything.
Chapter Three: Deleted Scene
Once she had finished suturing the wound on Loki's forehead, Natasha turned her attention to the cut that sliced across the bridge of his nose. Carefully cleaning it with dabs of anti-septic she frowned; it looked somehow familiar. Looking up, she found Bruce watching her. "This cut..." she murmured, unsure of how to continue.
"Yeah," Bruce said sheepishly. "I think that might have been me."
Chapter Five: Deleted Scene
Clint liked to use soft-bodied dummies for target practice. The cardboard cut-outs Tasha used and the plastic mannequins Tony was fond of just couldn't provide the same satisfaction as an arrow piercing right through the fleshy material of his dummies. And it was proving particularly satisfying this morning. He pulled an arrow from his quiver and, drawing back his bowstring, took aim. He wasn't using explosive tips today; just the extra sharp, poison dart-like heads that cut through the dummies like a knife through butter. He narrowed his eyes at the target and flexed a couple of fingers around the fletching of his arrow.
"Having fun?"
The arrow flew from Clint's bow and missed the target by three inches, lodging in the wall behind it. "Goddammit, Tony!" he growled; he didn't have to turn to know the genius-billionaire-whatever was standing up on the balcony to his right. He pulled another arrow from his quiver. "What do you want?"
Clint rarely had visitors during target practice; most of Stark Tower's inhabitants knew better than to disturb him here. But, of course, it came as no surprise that Tony Stark didn't know better. He wasn't sure why Tony had turned up; he was probably bored and wanted to stir up some trouble, or no one else was giving him enough attention so he was wandering from room to room, forcing himself on people. But obviously no one was in their rooms; they were all in that damn lab forming a harem around that lunatic...
"Is that one of Natasha's espionage wigs?"
Clint kept his eyes focused on his target... which was indeed wearing a mop of jet black, shoulder-length hair that he'd borrowed from Natasha's mission closet that morning. "Well, I always thought the freak had girl hair anyway," he muttered.
"If you want I can steal the charred remains of clothing Bruce and Natasha peeled off him yesterday so you can dress him up a bit?"
"Go back to your chemistry set, Stark." Clint let loose his second arrow; it soared in a high arc then dropped down and stabbed the dummy right between the eyes.
Chapter Five: Deleted Scene
Natasha and Bruce were standing by the lounge doors like two parents reluctant to leave their child in the hands of an incompetent baby-sitter. They were leaving Loki in the care of Tony, Thor and Steve for the night so they could both get some much-needed sleep. Natasha was exhausted, but still the glint in Tony's eye unsettled her and Bruce clearly shared her unease. It didn't help that out of the three, Tony was the most qualified to deal with an emergency.
"So don't touch his IVs... don't try and update or enhance his monitors... don't mess with his medication... In fact, just don't touch anything, OK?" Bruce said firmly. "But do come and get me or page Natasha if anything happens."
"Cool, cool... So, are there any TV channels he can't watch or...?" Tony grinned.
Bruce returned a bemused expression.
"One last question," Tony added. "Can I wear your stethoscope?"
"OK, you know what, I'm not that tired. I think I'll stay..."
Natasha put a comforting hand on Bruce's arm. "Bruce, they'll be fine... Come on, go and get some sleep."
Bruce looked exasperatedly from Tony to Natasha and sighed. "Fine. But Tony, if you draw anything on his face in Sharpie, so help me God, you will not live to see the light of day!"
Chapter Seven: Deleted Scene
Natasha returned from the bathroom to the sound of a low, constant rumbling like approaching thunder followed by several metallic clangs. She found Bruce on his hands and knees in the kitchenette, rooting through the cupboard next to the sink.
"Bruce, you OK?" she asked carefully.
The doctor pulled his head out of the cupboard and turned to her. "I can't find the filter holder for the coffee machine."
"It's in the sink," Natasha said, folding her arms across her chest as Bruce got to his feet. She glanced towards the lab doors. "Everything OK with our patient?"
"Did you know I didn't learn to swim until I was fourteen?" Bruce said, frowning. "Or that I first skipped school when I was ten and I broke my arm falling off a wall in an industrial park?"
"I don't follow," Natasha murmured, raising an eyebrow.
"I tried to question Loki about the Chitauri and I ended up telling him every insignificant detail of my life story!"
"Skipping school is pretty significant," Natasha said with a smirk. "In fact, Bruce, I'm shocked!"
Bruce gave her a withering look. "Can't you go and give it a try? Get him figured out?"
"I'm a spy, not a shrink!"
"No, but Loki thinks he is... Go and beat him at his own game, would you? You're good at that."
Chapter Eight: Alternate Scene
"I'm not even going to ask why you have this on DVD," Dr. Banner said, begrudgingly pulling up a stool at Thor's side as Tony set up the DVD player, hooking it up to the projector.
"It's not mine, it's Pepper's!" Tony replied, unphased, as a large screen materialised, suspended over the edge of Loki's bed.
"Yes, but you bought me it for Valentine's Day!" Pepper said with a rueful smile.
"Christ, I hope he bought you something else as well," the doctor grinned.
"Hey, lay off, alright? It was Loki's idea to watch 'Twilight' anyway," Tony muttered as the interactive menu appeared on the screen.
All eyes were suddenly on the so-far silent God of Mischief, sitting propped up in his pillows between them. "It was just something Agent Romanoff said," Loki explained quietly, purposefully avoiding Natasha's first name in a somewhat vain attempt to evade a sense of familiarity. "I was curious." Now he was trying not to picture her sitting with Barton in that beautiful blue dress which left the exquisite curve of her pale back exposed...
"Well, it's an excellent movie for a drinking game!" Tony said cheerfully, dragging Loki from his reverie. He took a seat next to Pepper and produced a metal hip flask (with his initials engraved on it) from his pants pocket. "You got a few glasses, Doc?"
"We're not playing drinking games, Tony," Dr. Banner said wearily.
"OK, rules," Tony continued, ignoring him and the despairing looks from Pepper. "Drink two fingers whenever Edward does something creepy... Drink one finger whenever Charlie looks awkward... Drink one finger whenever Bella bites her lip... Down your drink whenever Bella's facial expression changes... Wait..."
"Can we just get this over and done with?" Pepper sighed, running a hand through her hair.
There was a murmur of agreement, so Tony, flask in hand, got up and hit 'play'.
"You like purple right...?"
"Drink!" Tony took a generous gulp from his flask.
"Her father, he bears quite a resemblance to you, Tony," Thor commented, and Pepper had to clap a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh.
"Nah," Tony said, taking another swig. "He looks more like my dad."
"But you look just like your dad," Steve said, with a grin.
"How old are you?"
"Seventeen."
"How long have you been seventeen?"
"A while."
"Tony, stop mouthing along!"
"What? This is the best part!"
"Say it... Out loud. Say it."
"Vampire."
"Wait! What? That guy is a vampire?"
"Seriously, Steve?"
"I thought this was a chick flick?"
"It is... But with vampires. And hey, Edward is a hundred-year-old virgin, so there's hope for you yet, Cap!"
"Steve, sit down! Tony, shut up!"
"Hold on tight, spider monkey!"
"Spider monkey?"
"I don't understand that reference."
"No one does, Steve."
"How come I end up where I started? How come I end up where I went wrong?"
A row of confused faces stared at the screen, all with at least one eyebrow raised.
It appears Natasha's referring to me as Edward was quite the insult, Loki mused, I will have to get her back for that. "Well, if that film had a moral, I have to say it was lost on me," he said softly, as the credits began to roll.
"Stalk the girl to the edge of a restraining order and she'll love you forever?" Dr. Banner offered.
"It doesn't matter how many people your boyfriend's killed as long as he's beautiful?" Pepper added, turning to Tony her grin faded. "Oh, for God's sake, Tony!"
Tony was swaying on his stool with his mouth slightly agape and his eyes sliding out of focus. Pepper snatched the flask from his hand, shook it, and tipped it upside down; it was empty. A snore suddenly interrupted the bemused silence; Thor had fallen asleep half way through the movie and Loki was pretending not to notice that his brother's head had drooped onto his pillow.
He was now trapped between the snoring Thor and a drunken Tony. Perhaps it was this feeling of awkwardness that made him say: "I can understand why their date was disastrous. I hope this one is faring better."
The raised eyebrows were all suddenly directed at him. He hadn't meant to voice that thought and he knew they were all aware whom he was referring to... And, obviously, the comment hadn't been sincere either. He rather hoped Barton had drowned in his soup, because... Well, he didn't want to dwell on that.
"OK," Pepper said, drawing out the second syllable. "I'm going to put Tony to bed." She stood up and pulled Tony to his feet. "Night everyone."
There were murmured replies of "Good night".
Tony slung his arm around Pepper's shoulder with a hiccup. "Hold on tight... spiderrr monkey," he slurred into her ear.
Chapter Eight: Alternate Scene
"So, how is our resident megalomaniac?" Clint asked, reaching over the table to stab his spoon through the sugar crust of Natasha's crème brûlée.
Natasha stared at him as he leant back in his chair with half her dessert loaded onto his spoon. She had to admit she was surprised it had taken them three courses to get onto the subject of Loki, but maybe the amount of red wine Clint had been knocking back had something to do with that. When they'd ordered dessert she'd felt a flicker of hope that they would make it through the evening without straying into dangerous territory. I should be so lucky, Natasha thought miserably... And there it was again: the desire to return to Stark Tower, to be eating Chinese food out of a box with Bruce and talking with Loki. At least that conversation would be less of an uphill battle.
"Don't call him that," she said quietly, avoiding Clint's gaze and looking into the gaping crater of her dessert.
"Why not?" Clint demanded irritably. "The guy is shady as fuck. He's a psychiatrist's wet dream."
"Tell me, do you think up these insults off the top of your head or do you have a pre-prepared list you select from?"
Clint stared at her, his blue eyes steely. "I'm going to order more wine," he said, his voice flat.
He turned to the pretty, dark-haired waitress at a neighbouring table and his whole demeanour changed; his eyes softened and he gave her a wide, charming smile. Natasha rolled her eyes. She had clocked all the men in the restaurant who had given her a once over (most more than once) and could easily meet their eye with a sultry, inviting look, but she decided not to stoop to Clint's level.
Clint tore his eyes away from the waitress to look back at Natasha as if she was a consolation prize. Despite everything, Natasha attempted a smile. "Let's talk about something else, shall we?"
Chapter Eight: Deleted Scene
The sickening crack sounded dangerously close, but it wasn't until he was thrown backwards that Loki realised the sound had come from him. As he landed flat on his back, the razor-sharp stones digging into his skin like knives, pain erupted in his chest, consuming his torso with a burning ache previously unknown to him. He realised his ribs were broken... Despite his brother's best efforts, he had never broken a bone before and this horrendous, fiery pain made his stomach heave. He tried desperately to roll onto his side, knowing he was going to throw up.
The blood trickling from the gaping wound that seemed to slice his forehead in two had run down his cheek and into his mouth; it tasted foul and nauseatingly metallic on his tongue. He spat blood into the dust as he hauled his broken body to the side, and cried out. He had been so distracted by the pain in his chest that he hadn't thought about which arm he was about to sink into the gravel; his right arm, covered in flaking, black burns from his last interrogation sizzled agonisingly in protest.
He jerked himself onto his back with another cry. The movement twisted his insides and he wretched repeatedly, but couldn't vomit; they hadn't fed him for days so his stomach was empty and had nothing to offer up. Footsteps suddenly sounded a few feet away and he heard the crunching of gravel and clank of Chitauri armour. One of the warriors appeared at his feet, the butt of his weapon raised, ready to deliver the final blow. Loki was staring up at him with a resigned, expectant look when a flash of black and red suddenly caught his eye... Natasha.
Natasha was sitting in the roughly carved stands of the rocky arena... Such a thing of beauty, she didn't belong in this barren, forsaken place and she wasn't safe here. "Natasha," he croaked, the taste of blood still strong in his mouth. "Natasha!" he called louder. She stood up and he strained his eyes to try and make out her expression... He needed to get her out of here, maybe if he caused a distraction she could escape, but she had started to make her way down the stands towards him. "No! NATASHA!"
"Loki!" A male voice echoed around the walls of his mind and he couldn't place it. Perhaps it was Thor... "Loki, wake up!" A feeling of heaviness crashed down on him and he was falling, falling into the floor...
Loki's eyes flew open and were met by the bright lights of the laboratory. The man standing over him was neither Chitauri nor Thor; it was Dr. Banner. He was studying Loki with a scared expression, his brow furrowed.
"Doctor?" Loki murmured, wincing with the pain in his ribs. "Is everything alright?"
Dr. Banner took a long time to reply, but finally answered: "You were shouting in your sleep."
"Oh," Loki said, as flashes of his dream span in front of his eyes; he could still taste the blood in his mouth, but he kept a poker face. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"
The doctor raised an eyebrow, making Loki bristle. It irritated him that everyone here seemed so surprised whenever he used any common courtesy. I was raised in Asgard, not Muspelheim!
Dr. Banner was looking increasingly uncomfortable. "Do you want me to page Natasha?" he asked quietly.
Natasha. She had been in his dream... He had wanted to protect her, and he was under no illusions now as to why that was. It was something that had been steadily growing within him, ever since that incident on the hellicarrier. "Thank you, for your cooperation": the trigger, and her presence over the past week had only cemented it. The way Thor had spoken over the centuries, it seemed women were supposed to induce insanity, but with Natasha it was different... His feelings for her made him feel, well, more normal. It was a spectacular regression to a time before the madness had taken over, when he felt he was still capable of warmth and affection for another being...
"Loki?" Dr. Banner said carefully, his brown eyes troubled.
"I don't wish to disturb her," Loki answered, trying to keep any flicker of emotion from his face. "You gave her the night off, remember?" He gave the doctor a small smile.
But Dr. Banner's expression remained concerned. His unease was starting to make Loki uneasy and he suspected there was something the doctor wasn't telling him. He had only had a few conversations with him without Natasha present, and he knew there was a reason for that; he obviously saw her as some sort of security blanket.
"I'll page Natasha," Dr. Banner said decisively, and before Loki could protest he had produced his pager and sent the message.
Loki looked away from him, feeling torn. If there was anyone he wanted to speak to at that moment, it was Natasha... In fact, for the past few days, she had been the only person he was interested in speaking to. But he also knew it was highly likely that he was interrupting something. As much as the thought of dragging her away from Barton filled him with a malevolent glee, he didn't want to upset her... But, of course, she might not answer Dr. Banner's page. That thought made his stomach sink and he mentally cursed himself and this ridiculous situation. He hadn't been this lovesick since... He would rather not think about that.
"What time is it?" Loki said softly, ever aware of the doctor hovering awkwardly but dutifully at his side.
"Almost three o'clock," Dr. Banner replied. "I can increase your sedative dosage just for tonight, if you want?"
Loki was about to answer when he heard the elevator chime and his heart leapt. Natasha appeared in her trademark black jacket and pants; he had half-expected her to still be wearing that divine blue dress. He smiled in greeting, but his smile immediately vanished as she stormed into the lab with a face like thunder: they had made a mistake.
"You paged me?" she said, her voice was icy and made him flinch.
"Yeah, just thought Loki could use some decent company," Dr. Banner replied, seemingly undeterred.
"Bruce, a word?" she growled, pointing to the lounge. She was yet to make eye contact with him.
The doctor followed her into the lounge with his tail between his legs. Loki kept his eyes focused on the glass in front of him, but he heard Natasha cry: "You paged me at three in the morning for no reason?" followed by: "I was in bed with Clint!" Her words cut right through him and made his chest ache... He told himself that was just due to his broken ribs. And this was getting tiresome, his pining for her... She is Barton's, not yours, and never will be...
Natasha and Dr. Banner were talking quietly now. He looked to the lounge doors just as she appeared; he met her gaze for a fraction of a second then looked away quickly, hoping the pain didn't show on his face. She walked towards the lab doors then stopped. Turning back to him, her whole face softened; her enchanting eyes - caught somewhere between blue and green - were shining... Now she looked sad, but not angry. He searched desperately for something to say to her, but words failed him as she walked towards the bed and pulled up a stool at his side.
COMING UP in Part Two: Frigga questions Heimdall about how her youngest son is faring on Earth, more angst from Chapter Eleven, domestics and domestic Avengers, and Loki and Natasha get their own back on Tony for his 'morning after' routine!