Ch 6: Victory
"You lack conviction."
He hoped the Other hadn't noticed or heard. It disturbed him that the man could read him so well. He had no qualms about killing mortals who stood in his way, he told himself. No qualms, not even one for who was so astute. It was a shame, he had to admit, that a man so clever had to suffer. As he drove the spear into the man's back, Thor's shaken "No!" warmed Loki's cold, dead heart.
"It's in your nature," Coulson said as the life left his weak mortal body.
To fail? Was that all he did? He failed to destroy Jotunheim, he failed to make Odin proud, by all the gods, he failed to save the dog-man. What hope had he, if he failed the Chitauri as well?
Releasing the glass cage housing his non-brother, he had a reasonable hunch that Thor would survive the fall; after all, he was not reduced to the fragility of mortals as he had been when Loki sent the destroyer. At least, he hoped...he didn't know what he wanted. Certainly, it would make him very happy if Thor sustained a serious injury. An amputated leg perhaps? Those in Asgard so loved battlescars.
Not all of his men were ready to go. Namely, one Hawkeye was missing. Loki waited as long as he could before they had to leave; the helicarrier was out three engines, and Loki would go down with it if he did not soon depart. It hurt that he had lost Clint—no, Agent Barton to SHIELD. He rather enjoyed the staunch man's company, and wondered if anything he had revealed would be shared with those mismatched heroes. Well, it wouldn't happen anytime soon; the Chitauri's invading force would be their first priority. It seemed those so-called Avengers were scattered for now, but he could not know if it would last.
Well, it was a good thing that he had told the man very little of his personal plans for Harry, then. He could not endure the pain if the young man became a target because of him.
He sighed.
So much to do, so little motivation. He sat in the jet, still unhappily stewing on the loss of Agent Barton. A pounding in his heart reminded him that he needed to care more about the duty given to him.
"Sir? We're on our way to the Tesseract," said one of the pilots. If Loki tried hard enough, he could imagine that the pilot was instead Clint.
That was ridiculous. He shook his head and ordered, "Then let us hurry. I know not how much time we have."
They alighted on Stark tower, the garish eyesore of the New York City skyline. Dr. Selvig was already there, making last-minute changes to the device that would open the portal. They had few words for each other. It seemed Selvig too missed Agent Barton, and was disappointed that he would defect. Loki was not surprised; he knew he never really had the archer's loyalty. Glancing at Selvig's determined eyes, Loki knew this man had no true loyalty either. Loki's power was built on a foundation of lies and coercion.
He had little time before the invasion was to begin. However, that was fine with him as he had few things to attend to. Selvig had the portal set up, and the Avengers were scattered. The Chitauri didn't need him anymore, he thought. So why was he still there, so impotently at rest?
He was dithering about the garish tower when someone interrupted his thoughts.
"Would you like a drink?" asked the Man of Iron.
Yes, he would very much like a drink, his mind responded. Common sense told him otherwise. "Stalling me won't change anything."
He ignored the man's monologue, and responded when necessary. He could feel the Chitauri. The portal. It sent a chill of fear and excitement down his spine. He was letting them through into the mortal realm, and then...he tried to think what would happen next, but there was pain bubbling up in his chest, and he shook his worries away.
"-and you've managed to piss off every single one of them."
Oh, the Iron Man had been listing off those on his team. "That was the plan," he affirmed. He couldn't remember now why he wanted it that way. The Other had not ordered it, and yet he had done such a thing. He couldn't remember what he had been planning.
"Not a great plan. When they come," Stark paused, "and they will, they'll come for you." For some reason, the words pleased him. The Avengers coalescing into a force with which to be reckoned was not in the Other's plan. Why did he want the stupid mortals to come for him again? Why did the thought of them swooping in to save the day both nauseate him and make him ridiculously pleased?
Loki pasted on a smile. "I have an army."
Stark looked equally self-assured. "We have a Hulk."
Shit. Not ideal. "I thought the beast had wandered off?" Loki said with feigned concern. Best not let Stark know that the idea of the massive green giant frightened him more than it should have.
"You're missing the point! There's no throne, there is no version of this where you come out on top."
Oh, Loki knew. Loki knew very well, but Stark did not. If he did not win, then he would be sent back to Asgard for a slap on the wrist. He would scry Harry's location and keep an eye on the troublesome boy. Loki would be safe there. If he did win, then he would reign over Midgard as its sole ruler—Midgardians did so love their leaders. As ridiculous as that sounded. But no matter; Loki would win either way.
His mind went curiously blank, and yet he spoke as was expected of him. He needed to think, and this Iron Man was getting on his nerves! He let anger have a good grip on him, and threw the man out the window. Loki cared little for the lives of mortals. They were all lower than him!
Good. Quiet. It didn't last long, for a mass of metal followed the figure out the window and the Man of Iron floated back up, slamming him in the chest with some kind of white energy.
But now the Chitauri were here. Loki stood there, both admiring the force and resenting it. The resentment did not last long, however, because in a few moments, he was joined by his dear non-brother, Thor.
"Loki, turn off the Tesseract, or I'll destroy it!"
There was no stopping the blue cube. The Other would be displeased if the Tesseract were disturbed. "You can't. There is no stopping it. There is only the war!"
"So be it."
He fought with Thor. He did what he had to. The Leviathan appeared.
"Look at this! Look around you! You think this madness will end with your rule?"
Loki took this opportunity to do so, not quite shaking himself out of the angry stupor he had adopted. "It's too late. It's too late to stop it." It had been too late from the very beginning, when he first accepted the spear. Tightness lanced through his chest, but Loki ignored it, instead looking up into the bright blue eyes of his once-brother.
"No, we can. Together," Thor pleaded with ever-hopeful eyes.
He looked back at his non-brother. His idiotic, well-meaning brother. Thor could not understand the war taking place in Loki at that moment, the war Thor himself created. Moisture gathered in the corners of his eyes and threatened to fall.
Such weakness!
Loki controlled his arm. He remembered making the decision to stab Thor in the stomach, and he remembered the sick pleasure he garnered from it. He dug the steel into the man's gut and twisted. Mjolnir fell from his non-brother's weakened grip and Loki yanked the his hand back as if stung. What had he done? Anger swirled in Loki's heart-Thor made him do it! It was- it had been necessary!
He looked with horror at his deed, but then whispered, "sentiment..." to himself, letting a smile overtake his face-whether it was genuine or not, Loki could not himself be certain. Despite his efforts, he felt a small stinging track of moisture trail down his cheek. At least Thor couldn't see his weakness.
The lout was too busy shouting in rage. It was unfortunate that Thor needed only his great strength to overpower him. Loki rolled off the edge of the tower and barely grabbed hold of a passing speeder.
He flew around the city, watching the destruction wrought around him. So many different thoughts assaulted him, from joy at the chaos and dismay at the people's terror. He only wanted mischief, not death. Yet, here death was, all around him. Mortals and Chitauri alike, falling one by one. He consoled himself, remembering that mortal lives were short and meaningless; they would all be dead within the century anyway.
He zoomed after the Black Widow who, no doubt, had been the one to take Agent Barton back. Loki didn't know how they countered the gem's effects, but it must have taken much effort. Loki knew, from personal experience, how difficult it was to throw off its influence. As he shot blue light after blue light at the agent, he heard a whistling sound.
Loki instinctively caught an arrow just as it was approaching his face. He gave a lazy look to the arrow, and then directed his gaze far above him at his once-cohort, Barton. Oh, Barton.
Then it exploded.
He cursed his own lax mind as he fell; he should have known better! He knew that Barton used arrows like that, it was one of his trademarks. The man loved to brag about his archery skills, and then Loki had just conveniently forgotten that? He crash-landed onto the balcony of Stark Tower just in time to see a giant green creature lunge at him and send him flying through the window and into Stark's bar.
"Enough!" he screeched. Hadn't he been through enough? He picked himself up and made a stand. He was tired of being pushed around. "You are, all of you, beneath me! I am a god, you dull creature!" Or had been. Or was. Could Jotuns and monsters be gods? Nevertheless, he powered through his invective: "And I will not be bullied by a-"
Well, so much for that.
"Puny god," the green beast said on his way out. He wasn't far from the truth, but Loki was no god.
He whimpered a little, feeling every little hurt of his body. He lied there for a very, very long while before the magic stitched him up enough that he felt he could move something. He crawled out of the smashed tile, pulling himself into a sitting position. Clarity was starting to sneak into his mind as he sat up. It was as if...as if it were all a terrible nightmare. Did the humans win? Were the Chitauri defeated? When he felt hope flare within him, Loki was surprised by the lack of pain. It was the first time in a long time that he did not feel a familiar agony in his chest. Was a thrashing by the beast all it took to shake off the gem? There was no gem-induced agony. Instead, he was sure he had broken ribs and punctured organs, but nothing could prevent him from feeling joy at the absence of that damned gem's influence.
There was a presence. Loki wondered what happened to him that it was so easy to sneak up on him now.
And then he turned. All of them. Each one as Stark had described them. Stark himself, the idiot Thor looking at him sternly, the super soldier, the rage monster still in his green skin, the woman, and Clint. Who had an arrow notched on his bow, an explosive arrow aimed straight at his face.
He weighed his options, taking them all in with his wide eyes. He tried to push himself up because he hated being in a weak position. "If it's all the same to you," he paused, trying again to pull himself into a more comfortable position and more or less failing, "I'll have that drink now."
He probably should have used the last of his energy to talk to them, to warn them about the Other, about Him. But he was tired. And he really just wanted to sleep now.
It pained him, to have to shackle his own brother and clasp the muzzle on his face. Loki looked dazed as Thor did all of this.
None of it made sense. He and his brother had many adventures in their long lives. They were not like mortals, spending mere decades in each other's company. They had centuries to know and read the other, to spend conversing about little things, to while away against legendary feasts and battles. How could his little brother become...this?
"So I can't give him that drink then?" asked Stark. He was already by the bar, a bottle in each hand.
"I fear not," Thor answered, looking down at his brother. How frail he looked now, with no weapon and no access to magic. He looked gaunt as well, an appearance that never suited him. Perhaps he could feed his brother? After all, Thor never shied away from being his brother's keeper. "When must we report to Fury?"
The Black Widow pressed a finger to her ear. "Reporting in. We have him restrained, sir. Yes, sir. Copy that." She then turned to the rest of them. "Done."
"So..." said the unassuming voice of Friend Bruce, "shawarma?"
Thor could not have asked for a better opportunity. "My friends, let us partake of the victory meal! Lead us onward, Man of Iron!" He took Loki by the arm, jostling him less than he would have any other prisoner. His brother came along quite easily, though he stumbled enough times to make Thor concerned.
"Did Fury say we could take a break?" the Hawk asked Lady Natasha as they stuffed themselves into an elevator.
She shrugged. "Not in so many words, but we deserve one. "
"What will happen to my brother?" asked Thor. At his words, Loki started struggling and there were muffled but indignant shouts. Friend Steve was inquisitively looking at Loki, particularly at the metal covering his mouth.
Still focused on the gag, Steve replied, "Likely, he'll be assigned a lawyer and go to court for his crimes." Steve paused. "And if he's found guilty of mass murder, then it will probably be life imprisonment or the death penalty."
Though Thor was grateful for Steve's candor, he did not like the presented options. He nodded grimly and faced his brother, looking for his reaction. He was pale, but he had always been pale. His eyes were blank and his brow uncreased. He looked bored and not in the slightest afraid for his life. Either he cared nothing for his survival (once, Thor might have ruled this out, but his brother's suicidal fall into the void proved this was a possibility), or he had a plan to escape. Neither was good.
They were ambling toward the street which was still torn up from the battle. Stark introduced them to a large metal vehicle and encouraged them to 'belt in.' At Steve's insistence, Thor belted himself and Loki into the seats even though there were no other vehicles on the roads. There were barely roads left.
Though it was cramped in the metal box, Thor turned to his left. Loki was leaning his head against the window with his eyes closed. "Brother—"
"I'rm no- your mrmr," he tiredly said behind the muzzle.
"What'd he say?" asked Stark, though he was driving and really shouldn't have been focusing on what was going on in the backseat.
Ignoring Stark, Thor said, "We are brothers by everything save blood." Loki looked at him and rolled his eyes, placing his head back against the window. "I do not desire your death. Mother and Father want you home."
There was an incredulous scoff.
"They do!"
Soon enough, they were at Stark's shawarma place. It was hidden behind scaffolding and sat beneath a sign that said, "Farmers Insurance," but there was a pillar with pictures of food on it and they all looked quite good.
"Is it even open?" asked Bruce as he approached the storefront. He opened the door and a little jingle tickled the air.
There was a woman hunched over with a broom and a man behind the counter who was writing things down on a notepad.
"Ah, you here for food? We are closed!" said the lightly-bearded man once he noticed all seven of them. He was wearing an apron and slacks.
"Are you stupid?" shrieked the woman behind him. "These are the men who just saved the city!" She swatted the man on the back of his head and turned to the Avengers. Sweetly, she told them, "Take your seats and order whatever you like. Today, it's on me."
She hobbled away and continued sweeping the debris into the back room.
The biggest table they approached only had six seats which were screwed into the ground. Thor guided Loki to a seat off to the corner and lightly pushed down. Although it was not his desire to exclude his brother, it would do no good to have him at table with his mouth sealed off as it was.
The food came quickly, spurred by the woman's influence on the cook. They ate in complete yet companionable silence. Steve finished quickly and sat with his right elbow on the table, his hand supporting his weary head. He looked mighty bored. They all looked quite tired.
Then, he heard the clicking, and then the rolling. His eyes focused on the source of the sound and saw that Loki was standing with his back barely touching Friend Bruce's. Thor had to laud Bruce for his control, for he looked greatly distressed at having the God of Chaos at his back.
There were a few more sounds of clicking, and then the sound of more rolling. Loki moved so that he was directly to Bruce's right and then kneeled down, facing away from them all. Whatever magic he was trying to work would fail due to the cuffs, Thor knew, but his brother's antics still made him nervous.
Then, he stepped away, cupping something between his hands. He looked furtively around and then found his way to Thor's side. He pointed at his mouth and then showed Thor what he had conjured. It was a little green ball, with a diameter about the length of his the tip of his thumb.
Friend Stark guffawed. "Seriously?"
Loki glared at him and returned his attention to Thor. Looking plaintively, he point at his muzzle and then proffered the little hard ball.
"C'mon, Thor, he just wants a little piece of gum. If he's not gonna eat, at least let him have that," Steve said sympathetically.
"Gum?"
Bruce turned around and pointed at a clear little box on a stand. It was red-topped and was filled with many little colored balls, much like the one Loki now had in his hand. Ah, so Loki just wished to eat this Midgardian treat. It seemed harmless enough, and Loki had always liked sweet things. Feeling pity for his brother, his brother who just wanted one little thing, Thor undid the clasp. The others were watching and were likely prepared to pounce in case Loki did anything untoward.
Contrary to their worries, however, Loki merely popped the little green ball into his mouth and slowly started chewing. Thor went to put the mask back on but found himself flummoxed. "Are you not finished? Swallow quickly."
"Thor, it's gum. You're supposed to chew it. And not swallow it," Lady Natasha told him. What strange Midgardian customs. Well, the muzzle was supposed to cover his entire jaw, and he could not affix it until Loki was finished with his gum, as they called it.
"Mmmm," Loki said, apparently savoring the gum. "It is pure sweetness. You would like them, brother."
Thor beamed. It seemed giving Loki that piece of candy made him more pleasant. "I think I would!"
"He probably poisoned all the other gumballs," Friend Clint accused bitterly.
"I would do no such thing," Loki said, smacking the gum loudly and quite obnoxiously. "Though who is to say that I would not do something like it when there is no one here to watch me?" He continued chewing the gum. "How does one blow a bubble? Agent Barton, you once promised to teach me."
"I'm not teaching you jackshit," he spat.
Loki looked mildly over at the others. "I will enjoy my stay here on Midgard. When I escape, I shall gladly find more of these gumballs. We have nothing like it," he said, as if they were mere acquaintances and not villain and hero. He pulled out another little ball, this one red. "Here, Thor. I thought you might like to try one."
There was nothing that could contain Thor's joy as he took the gift. And it was his favorite color! He put it on his tongue and started chewing as Loki did. His smile quickly fell though, when he felt a fire upon his tongue. "What sorcery is this? How did you conjure flame in my mouth?" he asked, reaching for his water.
Loki was chuckling to himself. He blew a bubble with his gum and pulled it out of his mouth. He looked contemplatively at Thor's hair before walking over to the nearby trashcan and popping it in there. A glance at Lady Natasha showed that she was relieved for some reason.
"Maybe you should put that back on him," Steve said, looking at the grinning Loki. Although Thor least wanted to do that, he picked up the metal contraption.
"I look forward to all the wonderful things I can do while you are away, dear non-brother," Loki said as Thor started to fasten the muzzle on. Loki was always one for hiding his weakness behind loquacious bravado, but he now appeared bone-tired. His shoulders were slumped and everything about him seemed lank and weary despite his words.
"Okay, who agrees we should just send Clockwork Orange back to Asgard?"
There was a chorus of agreement and Loki's eyes shined.
Edited 8/3/2014: I love you reviewers, always encouraging me and giving me your different perspectives on the characters and story. Thanks for reading, and please leave some feedback if you liked it at all.