Things began to... deteriorate, after that.
First of all, the garish green skin of the mighty Hulk began to dilute in colour and the beast proceeded to, gradually, shrink in shape, returning to a more 'human-esque' size. Sensing his anatomy was undergoing a significant shift, Banner fled from the room; appearing completely naked, amongst his follow Avengers, was not an experience he wished to repeat.
Secondly, Tony unleashed his diva-like tendencies and stormed - still suited - from the room. He rambled, voice oozing with sass:
"Look, I'm not a goddamn maid, people. Professor Snape can clean up his own mess. I'm outta here... but meet you guys, later, for Shwarma, OK?"
The others stared, incredulously, as Stark flounced, comically, from the room; with the exception of Loki, who was, now, occupying himself by curling into the foetal position, clutching his stomach, tightly. He groaned, pathetically; the nausea was crippling.
Thor snapped from his revery and dared to approach his heavily inebriated brother. As daintily as his bulky physique would allow him, Thor crouched stealthily, beside his adopted brother; careful not to startle the crumpled God with sudden moments, as if Loki was some form of highly-venomous snake. However, Steve knew Thor saw Loki as more of a fawn or a kitten; some things never change, between siblings.
"Loki?" Thor croaked, tentatively.
Loki's clouded eyes, merely, stared vacantly into the abyss; swirling with sadness and swimming with... fear?
That was when the God of Thunder, finally, comprehended his little brother has a great deal to fear.
"Loki..." - he attempted, once more, as he delicately removed a stray hair of ebony, from the God's feverish countenance. "...it's time to go home, now." He finished, tenderly... but the tranquility was destroyed when Loki's ragged form shot upward, eyes blazing with wild hysteria.
"No, no, no." He shook his head with such determined vigour, Clint thought the guy's sorry head would dislodge from his pale neck. "You— You can't make me, Thor. I..." - he began to crawl from the God in terror , clawing at the ground with dirtied nails - "...I do what I want!" He spat with feeble defiance; Steve noticed the frantic trembling of the God's lower lip.
"I'm not going! I will not be punished! I've had— I've had enough, Thor! I can't... I-I won't..." Loki concluded but all attempts to sound authoritative were futile; he conveyed very little severity: drunk, huddled on the floor, fresh batches of hot tears forming in his eyes.
Thor gazed at him, in horror; guilt leading his heart, as of the weight of Mjölnir resided in his chest.
Assuming the situation was not going to improve, Natasha rolled her eyes and exited the room, dragging with her a rather disappointed-looking Clint; it'd just been getting to the good bit. The red-head muttered a half-hearted excuse about having to call Fury and check the streets. Clint suppressed a bored sigh.
And, then there were three: the Gods and soldier.
Steve, shifted uncomfortably and began to drown in sweltering perspiration. The growing tension was becoming increasingly ominous and Steve felt compelled to remain in the room, incase a fight broke out between the brothers. Yet, he felt very conscious toward the fact that he was invading their privacy; eavesdropping on intimate family issues.
It was insanely awkward and, worst-still, Steve hadn't a clue what was going to happen next.