Sorry, Guys! This took forever to finish, but don't worry, I haven't given up on this yet!

I also couldn't add a Clint and Natasha part to this one, Sorry, but they don't do much yet, They basically sat around all day while Clint itched for his archery equipment and Natasha insulted him in Russian.

:-/

Don't worry, they come back later. I hope you enjoy, even though it's considerably shorter than las chapter!

Sorry!


It had been a year for Bruce, and a lot can happen in a year. He'd grown taller, not much stronger, his 'naps' happened more frequently. That didn't matter though, not really. He learned anything he broke could be replaced easily. What did matter though was his knowledge, he never left the hospital, not once during the year so he'd had a lot of time.

Time to think.

Time to observe.

Time to realize he'd been played like a stack of cards.

Time to realize how.

When he started realizing that something was wrong he'd started playing dumb, that way they would talk about whatever disorder they'd thought was plaguing him. He'd asked for books too, they'd started out with general kids books first, Winnie the Pooh, Goodnight Moon, whatever they could find, but then they ran out and started bringing him science books, it wasn't stuff he should have understood, but with all the time to sit around and think he was soon able to understand the simplest bits. Then the more complicated parts, and before he knew it he was reading about genetics, though he couldn't let the doctors know.

"What are you reading?" One had asked him while he read "An Introduction to Biology; of Cells and Shells."

"Nothing," He'd said, maybe a bit too quickly.

"Really? What's the book for then?" The woman had asked, straightening her back and narrowing her eyes with a sly smile on her face.

"I like to look at the pictures, some of them are really freaky. Besides who could read this? Look at that word! What does cell even mean?" He did his best to grin as the nausea roiled in his stomach. The woman seemed to buy it though and laughed at his exclamation.

"It means a lot of things."

He knew that already though, he'd read it in the dictionary he'd kept under his bed for a year now. It was the building block of life, the smallest living structure, everything that technically lived was made up of at least one of these. It was a small room where a prisoner was locked up. It was where Bruce was now. That thought enraged him and his head started to spin wildly and his heart started to pump faster and his arms began to ache. Bruce glanced at his reflection in the mirror and saw himself turn a bit green. Green. Sickness. Anger.

"I—I think...I'm feeling a bit—" And suddenly it seemed to be extremely important that he reach the woman, and—and…

When he woke up he was back in bed, his blanket was drawn over him, his biology textbook had been replaced, and the entire room smelt of disinfectant. He slid off of the bed and walked to the middle of the room, here he bent, examining the ground. If he looked closely there was a large but hardly visible stain on the ground, a stain the color of rust.

He never saw the woman again.

He did, however, find a bloodied tooth underneath the dresser, a tooth he was sure was much too big to be his own.

This was the first appearance of the "Other Guy," and soon, Bruce became Bruce Banner to himself only, and "The Hulking Kid" to everyone else, though they only called him that when they thought he couldn't hear.


Anthony Stark was sighing and holding his head in his hands at the kitchen bar on the topmost floor of the tallest Stark Tower. His body felt leaden and a horrible feeling was pooling in his guts, it was a familiar, horrible feeling that he was more-or-less accustomed to.

The feeling that felt like a old punch to the gut that left a bruise, The sick feeling of overeating, and the defeated feeling that he got right before he looked at a test he knew he'd failed.

It was the feeling he got after he'd made a horrible decision. He did what he always did when he knew he was doomed though, he made his way to his workroom— Which was currently little more than a glorified storage cabinet—and told Jarvis to read him a story.

"Alright sir, which one?"

"Dunno Jarvis, gimme some options, no more porn though alright?"

"I'll try to restrain myself, Sir."

"You'd better Jarv, you'd better."

"We have some plays, Shakespeare perhaps?"

"Sorry bro, not in the mood for that." Tony opened his AI's programming and began to adjust it on the computer.

"Sherlock Holmes?"

"So fourth grade, I want something less...fictional."

"Case files?"

"Yes! That's it, That is the shit Jarv, the shit." He messed with the personality dial a little bit, using the mouse to twist it.

"Alright which ones would you like to hear—do you ever get lonely, just sitting in a room and talking to a intelligence system you designed yourself?"

"No, my ego cushions the hit. It's really almost like talking to myself, except less..awkward." Tony switched the knob to back to normal.

"Sorry Sir, I didn't mean that."

"You didn't regret it though did you?"

"Not particularly." Tony laughed, fiddling with the voice a bid, making it a bit shriller.

"It's okay Jarv, I can mess you up for revenge anyway. I've got all the controls right here."

"No you don't," and suddenly the lights were flashing in the room and the knobs and dials on the computer were spinning and Jarvis's voice fluctuated in depth.

"I have all the controls, you are practically my puppet!" The AI said in the deepest voice on the scale, Tony spun around in his swivel chair.

"Hah, You're not seriously doing the 'computer takes over creator' thing are you, that is so overused, I built you to do greater things."

"I concur, Sir," Jarvis said in his normal tone before switching back to the deep setting, "For now…"


It was him. It was Howard Stark. Steve blinked and he felt a grin rising to his face. He hadn't smiled like this since he woke up! Especially since he'd visited brooklyn, which was bigger and brighter and his home had been replaced with an ugly shoe shop with sickeningly bright neon lights. He'd felt as if the world had moved on without him and it was just such a crippling, empty feeling—but Howard was here! He'd been better friends with Bucky as a kid, but he'd known Howard a bit, and just seeing a familiar face was wonderful. Had he always been this short? How had he survived? Oh God, it was great to see him!

"Howard!" he yelled happily, he was dimly aware of a confused look crossing Mr. Coulson's face and Howard looked him directly in the face for the first time.

"The fuck?"

Overcome with joy, Steve grabbed him into a hug, it was just good—so good—to see someone that wasn't from the future/present/whatever. He was aware he was rambling but he couldn't stop himself.

"Oh God, it is you! You wouldn't believe what's happened! there was this man and a serum and all this ice everywhere and I'm sure I'll have time to tell you later. I'm sure you would understand it more than I did; there was a bunch of scientific gobbledygook. You were always better at understanding that than Bucky and—"

"Okay, slow down, shut up, do whatever the fuck you need to, just stop talking and—" he was growling and pushing against the embrace. Steve hurriedly dropped his arms and stepped back, his cheeks heating up a bit in embarrassment at the outburst. True, he and Howard had never been the best of friends, in fact, they had hardly talked. In retrospect, hugging him had probably been crossing the line more than a bit. Howard had liked his personal space seventy years ago, that probably hadn't changed. "—Let go of—yeah...actually okay this works. No more hugging alright? Alright. Anyway, we need to get a few things straight. One, I have no idea who the fuck you are—"

"Wait a minute, didn't we—"

"No, I said shut up, that means 'be quiet,' 'button yer lip,' or if you need me to spell it out, stop making noise," the boy hissed. "Thank you. I am not Howard Stark. He was my father. He. Is. Dead." With that, Howard's son spun on his heel and left the room. Steve felt his knees waver a bit, his legs were shaking and his hands were clenching and unclenching and he wasn't aware of how tense he had become until a hand rested tentatively on his shoulder. It was as light as a feather, perching on him hesitantly, but it only added to what felt like the weight of the world.

"Hey," Mr. Coulson began. Please don't ask if I'm okay, please don't ask if I'm okay, please don't ask if I'm okay, just please don't ask if— "Let's go to your room." Steve's shoulders sagged in relief and he let himself be led from the room.

"Jarvis, Override."

"I was told not to respond to that, sir."

"Jarvis."

"Yes sir?"

"Override."

"Yes...Sir…" Jarvis said- or more accurately hissed.

The room Steve found himself in was set up in the fashion of the rooms from his age, but he found things that he was sure he wouldn't find in a kid's room during the time that he had been in the nineteen-forties. There was a television in his room, it was a bit bigger than the ones he had seen before, the screen was wider and there were knobs and dials he'd never seen before. The bed had a basic metal bed-frame that was painted green and an open window was letting in a cool, pre-autumn wind and the sounds of new-york traffic. There were posters of baseball teams on the walls and there were books he'd never heard of on the shelves, then there was something large and red in a relatively empty corner of the room. Slumped against the wall as if an afterthought. He raised the punching bag and hung it on the hook. He gave it an experimental punch and it swung a bit.

"Mr. Rogers?" Said the static voice from earlier, Jarvis, Mr. Coulson had called it.

"Yes?"

"Is everything...satisfactory?"

"Yessir, thank you, sir."

"Your very welcome, I just wish Anthony Stark had such well developed manners."

"Anthony…" Steve through another punch at the bag, it was off to one side and the bag started to turn a bit. "...Is Howard's son?"

"Yes, Mr, Rogers, anything else?"

"No, thank you…" He threw another punch, then another, then again, then a few more.


Thor stood outside the building staring up at it for three decent minutes before his neck really cramped up. It was the tallest Stark Tower, and it literally scraped the sky. Thor glanced at the book in his hands, then the tower and then he grinned.

What would it be like to sit through a thunderstorm in that tower, all the way at the top? Lightning flashing all around him, wind blowing so hard that the windows would shake like mice. To stand level with all that power, to be an equal of a storm, that was what Thor saw when he looked at the building.

Loki however, saw something entirely different. The building was high and stood powerfully, yes, but that was not what entranced the younger brother. The name on the tower said Stark, Howard Stark, the genius Loki had read about in the papers. The genius who had died three days ago. He had designed this entire building, every bend in the highest part of the tower, every window on the entire structure had ben planned by one man. A man nobody could look past because this building rivaled every other tall building on the area, save the empire state itself and a few others. This was the building of a man who would not be ignored, who could not be ignored. One day, Loki Thought to himself, I will have buildings that bear my name like a golden plaque. I will rise above everyone. He looked to his brother and saw and expression of wonder and awe painted on his face. He knew he was thinking on similar lines, but not the same. Never the same.

"You kids want to head up? I think three of the others are up there."

"Others? There are more kids here?" Thor heard his brother ask. He didn't tear his eyes away from the building again, but listened anyway.

"Yes, three others, Clint, I think he's your age, Thor, Natasha is probably your age too—" Loki pursed his lips and Thor remembered a conversation they'd had.

"I don't like girl's," His brother had said, "they're silly and annoying and they can never seem to leave me any peace." to which he responded with:

"No, brother, you are wrong, Jane is not silly or annoying, she is very clever. I do not think you have spent enough time with any girls to say that they are all the same."

Loki had pursed his lips at this, annoyance settling over his face like a fog.

Thor couldn't understand why his brother thought things like this. Boys weren't actually better than girls and everyone knew that silly rhyme was a lie anyway, girls didn't actually go to jupiter to get 'more stupider.' There wasn't enough air up there for all of the girls to go and there probably weren't enough rockets either. Besides, hadn't the company that made the rockets shut down? Thor had to disentangle himself from his thoughts and look back up at Phil, son of Coul.

"Who was the last child?" He asked.

"Tony Stark, I suppose you could say he owns the place, he's a little older than you, but not much." Phil said, showing them to a shiny elevator that Thor actually thought was some kind of inset mirror before it started moving. He had been in an elevator before of course, but his one was just really shiny.

The doors slid silently open and he practically jumped inside, when he looked at

The interior he was not disappointed. There must have been a hundred buttons at least! What could someone possibly do with this many floors? There must have been a floor for everything, maybe there was even an indoor pool! He was really tempted just to slide his hands down the panel of buttons. That was more of Loki's thing though wasn't it? He looked at his brother who was viewing the buttons with a look of vague interest. Pff. Thor thought, he should just stop that, he probably wants to push all the buttons too, pretending he doesn't doesn't make him cool. He restrained himself from saying that out loud and asked Coul's son which floor he wanted to go to. If he couldn't press all the buttons he would at least press one. The man smiled and pointed to the topmost button. Thor frowned and Loki smirked. There was no way he could reach that. Absolutely no way.

"Jarvis?" The agent said and the boys looked at him, there was nobody else in the elevator but them.

"Ah, back again, sir? Would you like me to put you in contact with 'double-o-five?'"

"No thanks, Jarvis, Do you mind taking us to the top floor? We have Thor and Loki here."

"Alright, sir." The button lit itself up as if pushed and Thor gaped at it.

"Who pressed that?" Thor asked.

"What pressed that?" Loki corrected without missing a beat.

"Anthony Stark's AI system."

"What is this AI-" But his brother had already cut him off.

"Artificial intelligence system? Really? You said he was eleven, did he make it himself?" loki said and Thor knitted his brow. When did Loki learn all of this?

"As far as I know, he built it-"

"And it has full control of the building?"

"Yes, I do, however I am inactive for the majority of the time, unless I am called upon." Answered the AI, Loki grinned up at the ceiling.

"How much do you know?" He asked, Thor snorted.

"Anything available, readily or not, I can probably access."

"Hacking?"

"Very possible."

"Can you do anything in this building?"

"Most things that are physically possible, given enough time and resources."

"Can you learn?"

"Can you?" Loki laughed and Thor smiled a bit too.

"Feelings?"

"Not many at the moment, though I assure you I'm capable of expressing them." It was Agent Coulson's turn to smile.

"Can you r?" Thor snorted again and Loki gave him a dirty look, though he was to exited to put much effort into it.

"Not physically, however I can download information from other sources and process the words on a page if the image is available."

"So you posses eyes in the form of security cameras?"

"I am part of this building, therefore I can connect to any and all visual feed."

"Facial recognition software?"

"Advanced." The elevator chimed and they stepped out.

"Are you able to converse anywhere within the building?" Loki asked once in the room, which had a spectacular view of the city through a giant abstract window that took up a whole wall's space.

"Yes, I am also able to be downloaded into a mobile device and, should the device contain the appropriate software, connect to the mainframe here, and therefor hold a conversation in the same way that I might here."

"Impressive, Jarvis."

"Thank you, Mr. Odinson." Jarvis responded and Loki swore there was at least a hint of pride in his tone.

"You're very welcome." Loki responded, looking about the room, it was large and shaped somewhat like a crescent moon. It was designed with a very modern flair, the artificial lighting was hidden behind the long curving ceiling beams and under large metal panels, peeking out between the cracks. In the early morning though, the lights were hardly needed. He walked along the window, resisting the urge to touch the window itself, suddenly the Chrysler building came came into view. It was beautiful, like shells stacked upon shells leading to a delicate point at the top. He would get to see this every day? Definitely one of the best things that had ever happened to him.

Thor had looked out of the window also, but quickly got bored and paced around the room a bit.

"Jarvis?" He asked and Loki half-turned to watch his brother, Coulson, it seemed, had already left.

"Yes, Mr. Odinson?"

"Do you know where everyone else is?"

"Of course." There was a little silence there where Loki could see that his brother was waiting for Jarvis to tell him where the rest of the kids were, Loki smirked, he could see the game that Jarvis was playing.

"Can you tell my brother where they are?"

"I can." Oh, that was a good move, predictable, but good. How could he respond? He didn't want to order Jarvis to-Oh.

"Jarvis, if you please, inform Thor of the whereabouts of everyone in the building."

"Including the servants?" Fine, Jarvis won this round.

"No, just the kids."

"Alright, sir. Tony is…" And so he began to list of their locations in no particular order, at least, not one that the younger brother could decipher. He turned back to the window, Thor was giving him a look again, his brows were knit together and his lips were pressed into a hard line, as if he expected Loki to just tell him everything and why he knew what Jarvis was asking for. Because I am clever, Thor, I am clever and I spend my time doing worthwhile things. In his mind, Thor would be dumbstruck, absolutely speechless, having never considered that his brother could be better than him at something, let alone smarter. In his mind he would always win, and Thor would always lose because that's how it never played out. In reality his older brother would win, wouldn't he? Would be better at most things and what he wasn't good at wouldn't matter.

Things like that only seemed to matter in stories, stories where the younger brother would win.

What a pity it was that life wasn't a story.


You can feel free to skip this part, this is for any fellow attempting authors who want to see how I go about things a bit.

THIS MAY CONTAIN SEMI-SPOILERS FOR THIS STORY

First of all, If you find any inconstancies in my writing, feel free to tell me. Actually, no, I implore you, tell me what I screwed up.

Secondly, No character in this will be completely evil. that doesn't mean that I plan on making Loki join the avengers, nope, he has a long dark path ahead of him. However, no character will be fully good either, for example Thor; he is jealous and he thinks that he must be better than Loki because he is his older brother, sure, he will also be protective and caring sometimes, but there aren't may situations which would bring that out yet. Sibling rivalry is an instinctive thing, and there will always be that between them, though how they deal with that is different. Thor does it unconsciously, sometimes says incredibly rude things to Loki jokingly, and it doesn't help that Loki takes them with an impassive face or maybe a frown! Thor wouldn't realize what he's done until it's too late because he doesn't read into things like that, at least not how I view it, so he has a huge character flaw.

Also, Jarvis is going to be a serious character, not just the servant in the ceiling. He has a part to play in Natasha's, Loki's and (obviously) Tony's part of the story. Brownie points if you can figure out any of them before I put them into play!

;o)

Don't worry, I'll tell you that they are coming the chapter before they come up.

PS. Magic is in this story and Asgard still exists. You can all relax now, Heimdal is still alive.

I wish you luck and good tidings.