This takes place after the Avengers and does ignore Iron Man 3, Thor 2, Captain America and Age of Ultron completely. Here the Avengers found out, that Loki was forced to work for the Chitauri and he was acquitted and allowed to live on earth. From time to time he helps , apart from that he has a life of his own. The Avengers live in the renovated building, formerly known as Stark Tower.
I tend to believe that every hero has a back-story where something went really, really wrong. I wrote some stories about the Avengers focusing on things that happened to them, were done to them or they did and how it influenced who they are.
TRIGGERWARNING
Sexual abuse of a child. Graphic.
Mentions of a suicide attempt.
Please don't read this, if it might trigger you! Take care.
(The name Mareritt is the Norwegian word for 'nightmare'. Thought the word would fit as name very well. The legend doesn't exist, it is totally made up by me.)
The debriefing was boring and as Fury had left the room the Avengers stayed seated and talked when a lean silhouette appeared in a cloud of purple-grey mist. At the same moment something coiled itself round every Avenger and the chair they sat in. They were trapped. They could move their heads but nothing more, they couldn't get up. When the mist vanished a tall man with red curly hair stood in front of them, grinning broadly.
"Good afternoon, Avengers! My name is Mareritt. Thor here might know me."
"That's just a myth. The legend says there's a creature with that name, which lives of fear and pain. He has the ability to look into someone's mind and show his memories to him or to others around, forcing them to live through them and feasting on the pain and fear that inflicts. But I thought it was a fairy tale."
"Oh, I'm real, you will see. Perhaps showing will be more effective than talking with you, because I'm hungry. And people, called heroes by others, always have painful secrets, it's the same on every world, every realm.
Let's take a look at your dear Captain, he is your leader, isn't he? So it's just appropriate to start with him." He looked at him, thoughtfully raised an eyebrow and stated: "How boring, mostly scenes of war. That I have seen a million times before. And you were an ailing child, that's equally boring. There's disappointingly little fear and pain in your life that is more than ordinary. There's just one thing that looks interesting. Take a look my little Avengers." He grinned and an image appeared over the big conference table. Like a film. But out of Steve's eyes. They all saw what he saw, felt what he felt, it was like they traveled back in time and were forced inside his body without the possibility to interact or intervene. They could just watch and feel.
The train, the snowy winter landscape and the cold wind that tugged at his clothing. The skin of his face hurt because of the cold. And there was Bucky. Bucky and the feeling of safety, of friendship, of trust. Followed by the horror when he saw him fall down into the abyss, unable to catch him. He stretched out his hand but he couldn't grab Bucky's hand and he fell. For seconds that felt like hours. Steve had to watch, his arm still outstretched. He saw that familiar face disappear into the darkness. He felt the overwhelming helplessness and sadness without time to let it be. The need to break down in this train wagon and cry and scream but there was no time. There was a mission and the pain had to wait and didn't that hurt even more?
Steve grimaced. It hurt to see it again. To have to share his feelings, his memories with the other Avengers without being asked. It was Tony who decided to at least try something.
"Hey, sorcerer's apprentice, leave him alone! Get out of his mind. It's not nice to force others in someone's mind, you know? The last guy that tried something just approximately like that, ended as imprint on my floor. You really want to avoid that, believe me."
He was answered with a laugh. "Oh, perhaps you feel more comfortable in your own head?" He stared at Tony for a long time, making them all nervous, then he started to grin like a maniac. "Who would have thought that? Your mind is far more interesting. You suffered a lot. You're too clever for your own good and remember too much too vividly, aren't you? That is going to be enjoyable."
Tony's face was angry, furious and he tried to get out of his damn chair with all force he could muster, but without success. "Hands off my mind, you sicko! That's no amusement park for the psycho of the week."
A hearty laughter interrupted him: "Oh, your big mouth still brings you trouble, Stark. Always did, it seems. But what a sweet child you were."
An image appeared, a hallway and a man that looked a little bit like Tony stood in front of him, Steve recognized Howard Stark a little bit faster than the others. The child had to raise his eyes to see his father's face that looked down on him in anger, he was small.
"But I was right!" The hand in front of him hit his face. Hard.
"You worthless brat! Who do you think you are? I am your father and you'll do what I tell you."
"But I was right and you were wrong!"
"You will never say something like that again, Anthony! Never question me. And. Shut. Up!" The next hit sent the boy crashing against the wall. Then he was roughly pulled up again by his arm and another hit made the boy cry out in pain. He was weeping now, cold and wet tears on his face while he tried to raise his hands in an unsuccessful attempt to defend himself. His father was yelling now. "You're a stupid, useless waste of space! I wished you were never born, that would save me a lot of time and nerves. You're not worth anything." Howard slapped him again and the child fell to the ground and stayed there.
The grown-up Tony was enraged and shouted: "I'm still not good with the whole shut up thing, asshole. Now get out of my head, take your magic knick-knacks and go back to Storybrooke. Nobody gets hurt, you stay alive and everything's fine. Deal?"
"You still don't know when you have no chance, do you? Thought you learned that as a child."
And another image appeared. The feeling that came with it was more than fear, it was panic. A lot of panic. And they soon discovered why. "Howard." Steve whispered surprised and Tony's face lost every color. He knew exactly what memory that was. How could he not. He had tried to forget but it was impossible.
Howard pressed his hand at Tony's throat and pinned him down on a bed. That wasn't a child's room, it had to be Howard's and Maria's bedroom. "You'll do what I tell you to! And shut up, I don't want to hear you. Do you understand me? It's your choice. You can keep on going to boarding school during the week but you will spend your weekends here and do what I tell you to. Otherwise I'll take you out of that school and you go to school here. You'll spend all your time here with me and I will teach you to listen to me! So, what do you want? Seven or two days a week? Will you now shut up or shall I call the school on Monday, telling them you stay at home?" Howard lifted his hand from the boy's throat so he could speak.
"Two. I'll be good. I will do as you say, please..." That was the high voice of a child. Soft and small and scared to death. How old could he be? Perhaps 7?
"Fine. Now shut up and ..."
"Stop!" Tony's voice was high pitched and his eyes were wide, his face showing unmistakably signs of panic. The villain actually stopped and the image vanished. "Don't. Whatever you want I can help you with it. Just don't... please. What do you want?" That was sheer desperation. None of the people around him had ever heard something like that in his voice before. Even Natasha looked worried.
"Your fear is delicious. How much more will there be at the source? You're a brave hero now, you weren't back then. Oh, I'm sure, I will love this."
"Please, don't do that. You can take pleasure from viewing Afghanistan, how often you'd like to, there was more than enough fear and pain, but please not that. Obadiah ripped out my heart, more or less literally. Choose something. Please. Whatever you want, please don't use this things. Don't. Please!" He knew he was begging and he felt pathetic for doing so, but he would be willing to do everything to prevent that anybody would see these memories.
"Whatever you want, you can get from me, just, just don't use this against me. Please."
The creature laughed and the image reappeared. Tony yelled "No! No." then his head fell down on his chest.
"Now shut up and hold still." Howard roughly pulled the kid's shirt over his head and stripped him of trousers and underwear. The boy shivered and felt cold, so surprisingly cold, despite the afternoon sun that shone through the window. Fear made his breathing fast.
"Turn on your stomach." Tony complied and they all could feel how hard he fought against the wish to cry and scream. Fear. Overwhelming. Then there were two hands on his back, his butt, stroking down to his legs. Harsh touches. Without any further warning something that must be a finger was forced inside of the boy. The pain made him gasp. "You want to be a good boy, don't you? So hold still and be quiet. It's not like this is the first time. Don't be pathetic." Hurt.
A while later two hands pulled him down beside the bed, bent his upper body over the mattress. One big hand holding him in place. He didn't move, didn't try to get away. He was too scared and knew too well, what it would bring him. Then there was pain. Burning. It hurt and the boy whimpered. Too much pain and even more overwhelming fear to form a clear thought, everything felt unreal. Movements and pain. Everything became blurred. Silent tears.
When something wet and sticky dripped down his thighs the child was released and slumped down on the floor. Unmoving. He stared down at his hands laying on naked knees and he just tried to breathe. A small, cold body, huddled on the floor. Numb.
They all felt the desperation and hopelessness, like a hole in the chest. It was a sick twist of life that he would later really have a hole in his chest with the arcreactor in it.
"Who would have thought that you would be the one hiding the most still burning pain? I had guessed one of the two agents. But no, it's the one with the biggest smile. Delicious. Let's look at another memory, shall we?" Everybody in the room said no, some screamed, some with a steady voice and one so low it was barely audible. "Oh, that was a rhetorical question, Avengers. You will look as long as I wish you to. You're empathy for him makes this even better." He laughed. "Old and new pain and fear. The room is full of it. I love it. So perhaps we should go to the day where this started, should we? Seems you were five years old." Tony opened his mouth to protest but the words won't come out. There was just speechless pain inside of him.
"You can sleep in our bed tonight, like an adult, while Maria is on vacation." That was joy, which the boy felt. But it disappeared when the image changed to a dim room. The blanket was pulled away from him. When Tony looked up, Howard pressed his index finger on the child's lips. "Ssssh." Then he pulled down his own pajama pants and his son's, too. Confusion and creeping fear. Something was wrong. But he couldn't speak, couldn't protest, his body frozen in fear. When Howard touched himself with his right hand and Tony with his left while he lay beside him, Steve started to cry. To see his old friend do something so horrible to his own child and feel Tony's fear was too much.
When Howard was done, he pulled up his pants and Tony's, turned to the other side and fell asleep fast while the boy stared at the shadows at the ceiling. A feeling of emptiness. Numb and scared.
"Wasn't that nice? And there is so much more. I think I like your father." He laughed. Tony flinched. He stared at his hands. Watched his hands trembling like they weren't his. He felt nauseous and dizzy. Like he was going to lose his consciousness.
"Shut up, bastard! Stop hassling him! Stop it." Clint was furious. Natasha added: "You will not get away with that. We fought more evil creatures than you, you will die."
Bruce tried to stay calm, the Hulk could unintentionally hurt his friends in that small room. Steve still shed silent tears and Thor obviously tried to get Mjölnir. Without success. "So much empathy, really Avengers, I take immense pleasure in all of this. But perhaps we should watch a little more."
Tony winced like he was hit. But he still didn't talk. He couldn't any more.
Tony was sitting on a chair at a work table, his feet dangling in the air. Small hands worked with tools and components the other Avengers don't recognize. He was so concentrated on it, that he didn't hear his father until he spoke up behind him. "Come with me."
"No. I want to end this."
He had spoken without thinking, just wanting to complete what he was building. His father grabbed his hair, pulling his head back violently and spoke directly into his ear. "You better go into that bedroom or I'll do to your little friend, the son of the maid, what is meant for you. And then I'd fire his mother. You like him, don't you? I saw you play with him."
Tony's eyes widened. He was so scared but he knew he couldn't let that happen so he slipped to the front edge of the chair to get off of it and then walked in the direction his father told him to. It felt cold and numb and terrifying.
Howard closed the door and turned to the kid. "Undress." The boy didn't move but they could hear his breathing getting faster, felt the pain in his chest, he was so frightened. "Undress. You know the consequences if not." After this the kid did what he was told. His hands, they could see getting off his clothes, were slightly trembling.
"Lay down." The child get on the bed, laid down and looked up at Howard and at a white ceiling. Fright. Howard's gaze wandered slowly over the body in front of him, then he grinned and touched him. Tony didn't move, frozen in fear. Trying not to feel this hands everywhere on his small body. It felt like an eternity.
"Turn over." They all could feel that the boy's terror was growing but he did as he was told, there was nothing else to do without making it worse. The kid laid his hands down near his head in a nearly surrendering position. There were this big hands again, demanding and rough, touching everything they want. Then these hands were on his butt, spreading his cheeks. The child clenched his hands into fists. Fear. Steve and Bruce closed their eyes. It helped not seeing the boy staring strained at the pillows at his left. But it didn't help against the pain or against hearing the whimper he made. A weight pressing down on him. The disgusting feeling of flesh on and in his own. Panic. Pain. Desperation. Shame. And everything started to feel unreal again. Like a nightmare. Numbness. Fear. The young Tony whimpered quietly. "Shut up." There was a hand again pulling back Tony's hair sadistically to force him to lift his head. The boy stayed completely quiet after this, his eyes tightly closed.
"Tony, breathe." Bruce's voice was soft and the grown-up Tony lifted his head. He had closed his eyes without noticing it. He was hyperventilating and trembling. "Inhale. Exhale. Deep, slow breaths. This was long ago. It's over and it will never happen again. He's dead. And I would kill him if he wasn't." There was a tint of green on his skin before he gained his composure back and his voice was soft again. "Tony, this is just an image. You're safe. You're grown up. Breathe. Inhale. Exhale." And it helped. Tony started to breath slower and his heartbeat slowed down, too.
"Hey bastard! You, you will die for this." He forced out between clenched teeth. The reply was laughter. And Tony felt like he would crumble to dust right now and there. "It took a toll on you, I'm almost surprised you tried to kill yourself just once. You were 16, hm? Little bit halfhearted. Painkillers and sleeping pills with a bottle of vodka you drank too fast. So you just vomited and cried and slept for two days. Nobody even noticed, isn't that sad? Nobody. You're a lonely one. Would anybody notice it today? Or care about? Not even your own mother cared."
Another image and none of them was sure that they could take any more. But it didn't stop.
That was an office. Howard sat at a huge desk. "Undress." And the child did like he was told.
While the young Tony slowly and fearfully got out of his clothes Howard stood up and pushed his trousers and underwear down to his ankles before he sat down again. "Come here." He waved at the naked boy. Fear. Slow steps towards the man on the chair. A rough hand that caught his wrist and pulled him closer. Even standing he was smaller than the sitting man. A large hand gripped his hip. The hand on his wrist pulling the little hand where Howard wanted it to be. And then a noise. The door opened and a woman stood there, her hand still on the door knob. This must be Tony's mother. She looked at her half naked husband and her scared naked son. She looked directly at Tony's face. There was a spark of hope in the boy, they all could feel it, but it died a second later when she turned, left the room and closed the door behind her. Desperation flooded like water through the boy. Something inside of him broke. Drowning. Fear. Hurt. Desperation. He was alone. There was no way out of this nightmare.
"Please tell me she came back. Or did at least something to help you." It was Clint's voice. Sounding ill.
Tony couldn't answer but the creature did it grinning. "No. She gave him gifts and apart from that stayed away from him. Nobody came. So much fear and pain followed and nobody came and saved him. Never. Why should they. Not worth the effort. All this went on for years. Tell me, did you become accustomed to the pain? No? You never will. You..."
Then there was a green and golden light and Loki stood before them, looked at his surroundings and shoot without hesitation at the grinning creature, bringing it down with a scream. At that moment they could move again and get out of their chairs, weapons pointed at the lying creature.