Sorry for the long wait! Unfortunately the next one will probably take me just as long. In other news, I passed 100 reviews! I love you guys!
Tony touched down on the roof of Stark Tower, waving at Bruce and Loki as his suit was removed from his body and he stepped inside. He was definitely not looking forward to breaking the news to Loki that his evil friends were back in town.
A half-empty bottle of scotch waited for him on the kitchen counter, and Tony took a long, greedy gulp before being interrupted by Jarvis' cool voice.
Sir, a package has arrived. Shall I send it up?
"Sure, why not," Tony mumbled, concentrating hard on what he should say to Loki. Tact wasn't really his thing. His preferred method of operation was short, sweet, and to the point, but he had a feeling that this wasn't the best time for bluntness. He was sure of one thing, though - more scotch couldn't hurt.
A small flap in the wall opened, and a small, plain cardboard box slid out. Tony grinned at his new (self-invented, of course) package delivery contraption. Pepper told him it was a waste of time, but it saved him at least a sixty-foot walk to the elevator. Hey, it was the small things that counted, right?"
"Interesting," Tony muttered as he picked up the package. It bore no markings, other than a crudely scrawled 'Stark' on the top. Surmising that it was probably just fan mail from a less literate admirer, Tony took a small knife from a drawer and cut through the cardboard. "What the heck?" Inside was a small scrap of tattered scarlet cloth, tainted on the edges with a more sickly red (blood?); there were no other contents.
Well, it was certainly one of his more interesting specimens of fan mail, Tony mused, examining the cloth. He sat down, turning on the news and sipping more of the scotch.
"We have breaking news regarding a failed fireworks display in Central Park earlier today. Crowds gathered around the scene as what appeared to be several Avengers impersonators attempted a demonstration of some kind, which quickly took a turn for the worse when several large fireworks began to explode at random. Police sources have not confirmed what exactly happened or who was responsible, but the incident is contained and it is unlikely that this event poses any further danger to New York. As for sports-"
Tony chuckled. "That's the best Fury could come up with? Not bad, I guess, but if there are fireworks out there with that kind of explosive power, I want one."
The opening and closing of a door down the hallway alerted Tony that Bruce and Loki had returned inside, and he turned see to the two making their way towards him, Bruce pushing the god in the wheelchair. Loki looked considerably more cheerful than he had in the morning; he was smiling faintly, and his eyes no longer had that scared, forlorn apprehension.
"Speak of the devil!" Tony said, grinning, as Bruce wheeled Loki up to the table. "And speaking of the devil, is the devil speaking?"
"As a matter of fact, yes," Bruce replied. Loki's cheeks flushed a little, not dimming his bright expression. "Are you thirsty, Loki?"
Loki nodded, then, seeing Bruce's hopeful expression, added a small "Yes." Tony applauded while Bruce filled a glass of water and handed it to Loki.
"How did it go with Fury?"
"Oh, nothing unusual. Terrorist attack in Central Park. The news is calling it a failed fireworks show," Tony lied. Loki's eyes snapped to him, narrowing with suspicion. Which, seeing as he was the god of lies, didn't surprise Tony, but it did unnerve him a little. Quickly changing the subject, Tony reached for the strange piece of cloth. "I just got a package, though. Must be fan mail, but whoever sent it is either stoned or-"
Loki's glass shattered on the floor. He was frozen, eyes wide, staring with horror at the scrap of scarlet in Tony's hand.
Tears streamed from Loki's eyes. He tugged desperately at Thor, trying so hard to make him see that he wasn't lying, but he already knew that no one would believe him.
Two guards strode forward, roughly grabbing Loki's arms to pull him away. He gripped Thor's cape harder, trying to shout through the muzzle, but Thor's face was blank. The guards pulled harder, and Loki was torn away from Thor, hands still clutching shreds of scarlet fabric.
"Loki!" Bruce exclaimed as the terrified god buried his head in his hands, shaking with violent sobs. Bruce crouched in front of Loki, hands on his shoulders, staring directly into his face. "Loki, listen to me. Nothing can hurt you here. But you need to trust us, okay? Tell us what's wrong. We can help you, but only if you tell us what's going on."
Loki lowered his hands, tear-streaked eyes fixed on the floor. He took a few trembling breaths before speaking, his words broken by sobs. "They - they know."
Bruce gripped his shoulders. "Know what, Loki?"
It was several moments before Loki responded. "They found me."
"Who, Loki?" Bruce asked earnestly. "Who found you?"
Tony barely caught the whispered words that followed; Loki was so terrified that he hardly dared make a sound.
"The Chitauri."
Bruce stood, beginning to pace as he clenched his fists, willing himself to remain calm. "And this-" he took the scrap of cloth, looking at it shrewdly- "this is from Thor's cape, isn't it?"
Loki swallowed, nodding fearfully.
Tony looked uncomfortably at his drink while Bruce took several deep breaths to calm his rage. "They gave you back to the Chitauri. I see," he said in a dangerously low voice, his hands trembling with suppressed anger. "And Thor did nothing to stop them."
Loki bit his lip, eyes following Bruce nervously, drawing back a little when the doctor suddenly turned to him. Bruce mentally facepalmed, unclenching his hands and quickly clearing his face.
"I'm sorry, Loki, I shouldn't get angry. You haven't done anything wrong. Thor, on the other hand... and Odin. What did he do?"
Loki's terrified expression answered the question well enough.
"Okay. Wow. This is... much, much worse than I thought. The Chitauri know you're here. I'll stay with you, Loki, as much as I can, in case they show up; I think the other guy can hold them off pretty well. As for Thor... the next time he walks in here, he better explain himself."
"Will you let him... take me back to Asgard?" Loki asked quietly.
Bruce and Tony looked at each other, horrified. "No!" they cried in unison. Loki flinched, startled. Tony amended his statement. "There's no way on earth or Asgard or wherever I would even consider letting that happen. I swear by the name of Tony Stark."
Bruce snorted. "Well, I'm not egotistical enough to turn my own name into an oath, but I can promise you the same thing.'
A warmth flooded Loki's face as he stared at his hands, smiling in spite of his fear. "I - thank you," he whispered.
Tony shrugged. "It's what friends do."
"Friends," Loki murmured wistfully.
"Who wishes to speak with me next?" Odin asked wearily, turning to his scribe.
"Ah, next is... he does not give his name, sir."
"I see." Odin nodded. "We will speak privately."
The scribe raised his eyebrows, but said nothing, taking up his scrolls and departing the hall. Odin sat back on his throne. "You may enter."
The Other's Asgardian disguise was convincing, but not complete; his icy eyes clashed with his smooth face, and his thick, gnarled hands were still visible under the facade of fair skin.
Odin inclined his head. "Speak freely. None will hear."
"Are you sure?" The Other slowly approached the throne, regarding the Allfather with a crafty leer.
"Why should I not be?"
The Other stopped, facing Odin. His lips curved into a wicked grin, revealing hideous pointed teeth. "You have a traitor in your midst."
The sky darkened to an inky black, the noise in the streets dimming as Tony sat at one of the benches in his lab, tinkering with a pile of wires and scrap metal. He'd escaped to his workshop while Pepper arranged Loki's new room (she and Bruce had decided to move him from the infirmary). Tired and a little sore from the battle earlier that day, Tony relaxed in the solitude.
He was startled by the noise of the elevator door opening. Sighing in irritation, he turned to snap at his visitor, but was taken aback to see Loki limping out of the elevator, leaning against the wall for support.
"You're supposed to be upstairs. And not walking," Tony said as Loki stumbled forward, wide eyes taking in all the details of the workshop with eager curiosity.
"Couldn't sleep," Loki mumbled, one hand gripping a table, the other holding... was it that bit of Thor's cape?
Tony grabbed a stool, pushing it over to Loki, whose knees were trembling dangerously. Loki sat tentatively, eyes still roving around the workshop. Tony motioned to the cloth. "Why are you still holding that?"
Loki tensed, hand clenching around the scarlet scrap. "Thor," he muttered.
"What about Thor?" Tony pulled up another stool, sitting next to Loki.
"He - he didn't come."
Tony's forehead creased. "When?"
Loki swallowed, examining the cloth as though every bloodstain was familiar. "When I was banished-" he closed his eyes, trembling at the memory. "When they sent me back, I... I begged Thor not - not to do it."
"And he didn't listen."
"He let them take me." A single tear etched its way down Loki's cheek; Tony though he was going to pulverize the cloth in his iron grip.
"Did he know this was going to happen?" Tony asked indignantly.
"I - I do not know. I could not ask."
"They didn't even let you speak?"
Loki shook his head, his breath shuddering. "No one listens to a frost giant."
"That's..." Tony shook his head. "Loki, maybe we all weren't your biggest fans a year ago, but none of us, even then, would have let something like this happen to you. And you being a 'frost giant,' whatever that is, doesn't mean a darn thing. Who are we to judge? I mean, my company used to supply terrorists with weapons. Bruce turns into an almost uncontrollable killer when he's angry. Natasha killed people for a living before she joined SHIELD. Cap- he's pretty much a saint, but he'll tell you otherwise. Here, your reputation is based on your choices, not your family tree."
Loki smiled sadly, "You are kind, but my choices are - are hardly better than my lineage."
"False. Any half-wit could tell you were coerced into the whole New York thing, and since you arrived here three days ago you haven't tried to do anything remotely supervillian-y. And, honestly, what the heck is a frost giant?"
"Did Thor not explain? I thought he would. He boasted often in his youth that he - he would slay them all."
Tony grimaced. "Ouch."
"None of us knew, then. Except Fathe- the king and queen. All of Asgard knows frost giants to be savage, brutal monsters." Loki tried to sound dismissive, but his voice was heavy with bitterness and pain.
Tony sighed. This was the part where he was supposed to say something that made Loki feel better and stop hating himself, but it was much easier thought than said. "Loki, I'm not good at the whole emotional healing thing. Just remember that none of us are judging you by your race. Most of us here are pretty screwed up, and we needed that second chance, just like you do. And so far, you are knocking the rehab out of the park. I don't think you've made a single threat or declaration of glorious purpose since you got here."
Loki looked at the floor, thin lips twisting upwards in a smile of gratitude. "Thank you, Stark," he said quietly.
"By the way, how did you get here? You just sort of dropped onto the roof, and we didn't think anything of it. But now that I do think of it, it's really strange. How did you end up on earth, more precisely on my house?"
"I am not sure," Loki replied, brows furrowed. "I think - I do not know - it was Heimdall."
"Heimdall who?"
"Our gatekeeper. The one who stands at the Bifrost. I think he rescued me. Though I cannot fathom why."
"Why? Because you were being tortured, that's why."
"It was nothing more than I deserved," Loki said sadly.
Tony groaned. "Okay, enough of that. You didn't deserve it. Is that clear? I hereby forbid you to think you deserved it."
"It is not so easy," Loki replied, laughing slightly though pain lingered in his eyes.
"Well, time heals all wounds. Or wounds all heels. One of the two. And speaking of time, it's way past your bedtime. Pepper's going to have an aneurysm."
Loki bit his lip. "You won't tell her, will you?"
"Of course not. Come on, let's get you upstairs." Tony helped Loki stand, letting the god lean on him all the way to the bedroom. Once inside, Loki all but collapsed on the bed, the exhaustion evident in his pale face. Bruce was still in the bedroom, dozing in one of the chairs.
"Is he staying for the night?" Tony asked, gesturing to Bruce. Loki nodded, eyes already closed. Tony said nothing more, remaining where he was until, about three minutes later, Loki's chest began rising and falling at a slow, regular rhythm, and the worry drained from his face.
Tony shut off the light, softly closing the door behind him. "Good night, Loki."
For twelve months Heimdall had searched: keen, steady eyes watching for a sign of the exiled, already forgotten prince. Now, as he stared into the heavens, a slow smile crept onto his ancient face. He had found Loki.
Odin had forbidden him to speak of the second prince; however, he had never actually forbidden the gatekeeper from helping Loki, should he find him. Heimdall thought of this with wry amusement as he lowered his sword into the newly-repaired Bifrost, directing the beam of magical energy at the lonely, distant planet inhabited by the Chitauri. The Bifrost opened, and Heimdall allowed it to swallow him; the gatekeeper hurtled through space and time, sight sound finally crashing into reality around him as he landed in a desert of barren rock.
He had little time; the Bifrost must be left open, as he could not control it from where he stood. Heimdall gazed around, all-seeing eyes piercing the cheerless terrain. Catching sight of the one he sought, the gatekeeper started forward, running swiftly over a distance of desolate ground before reaching the entrance to a dark cave. Stooping in the low, torchlit passage, Heimdall entered the cave, emerging into a vast, dimly lit chamber. Several Chitauri warriors lounged in one corner, paying no mind to prisoner chained against the damp wall. They did not see Heimdall until too late; a few blows of his solid fists felled them before they could cry out. Heimdall quickly approached Loki, crushing the chains around his wrists and catching the god as he promptly fell, barely clinging onto consciousness. He was badly beaten; scarlet blood covered his entire body, which was laced with a ghastly pattern of bruises and lacerations, his skin stretched too tightly across his bones.
Loki's eyes fluttered open, filling with terror at the sight of what he assumed to be a new tormentor, but Heimdall placed a large hand on the trickster's forehead, easing Loki's mind into a dreamless sleep. Loki relaxed, emaciated body limp in Heimdall's arms, and the gatekeeper carried him away, as gently as a mother would her child.
Several Chitauri had gathered around the still open Bifrost, perplexed by the light, but they fell back when Heimdall neared. A power emanated from the gatekeeper, a golden strength that struck terror into the creatures' hearts, and they did not interfere as Heimdall, cradling Loki in his arms, was taken up into the beam of swirling colors.
Heimdall lurched back into the Bifrost. He stepped off the dais, carefully laying Loki on the floor before returning to his sword. He had already decided where to send the prince; inserting the sword again, he opened the path to Midgard, to the tower of the man of metal.
"Good luck, Loki," Heimdall said in his deep, soft voice as the light consumed Loki and he disappeared from the Bifrost.
Loki awoke with a start, a wave of panic rushing through him at the unfamiliar surroundings. Green walls, soft sheets, rays of morning light peeping around green curtains-
Relief replaced panic as the events of the past three days flooded back, and Loki remembered Pepper and Bruce moving him from the big white room to this. He turned his head to see Bruce asleep in a chair, next to the window. Had the man stayed with him all night?
Good morning, sir. The time is 9:42 AM.
The voice startled Loki, and he instinctively jumped backwards, colliding with the headboard as he looked around wildly for the source of the words. It was a few seconds before the name Jarvis entered his mind, and his tense muscles relaxed as he realized that it was only Stark's computer addressing him.
Bruce stirred, blinking several times before looking up at Loki. He yawned, stretching his arms. "Morning. Jarvis scare you?"
Loki's cheeks flushed a little, and Bruce nodded, grinning slightly. "It's all right. Took me a while to get used to a computer waking me up. How are you feeling?"
Loki shrugged. "Better. Not terribly well."
"You need to eat," Bruce replied, studying Loki's thin frame. "Why don't you come downstairs? Pepper's probably made breakfast."
"Am I permitted to eat with the others?"
"Of course you are," Bruce said worriedly. "Why wouldn't you be?"
"I..." Loki's voice trailed off. Embarrassed by his lack of words, he began to push himself upright, gritting his teeth as his mending bones protested. He swung his legs off the bed, standing tentatively as his legs shook under his weight.
"Here- let's use the wheelchair-" Bruce said quickly as Loki gripped a table for support.
Loki shook his head. "I can walk." He limped to the door and into the hallway, Bruce following close behind and catching Loki when the god stumbled and nearly fell a few feet from the elevator. Defeated, Loki allowed Bruce to help him into the wheelchair, though he still looked quite displeased as he was wheeled into the kitchen.
"Loki!" Pepper cried warmly, turning away from the pan of scrambled eggs and smiling at him. "Did you sleep well?"
"Yes," Loki replied, feeling quite uncomfortable as the others' attention turned to him.
"We have bagels, fruit, cereal-" Steve looked around the kitchen. "The eggs will be ready in a minute."
Loki regarded the soldier warily. He was being offered choices of what to eat? Was this some sort of ploy? Thankfully, Bruce rescued him.
"We should probably stick with fruit. Do you have any grapes?"
Tony, who was standing next to the refrigerator with a can of soda (Pepper refused to let him touch alcohol before noon) opened it and looked inside. "Affirmative," he replied, taking out a bag of grapes. "Though, if you'll allow me, I'd recommend their fermented form-"
"Tony!" Pepper hissed. Bruce took the grapes, plucking off a small bunch and handing them to Loki. The god hesitated, sniffing them before putting one in his mouth.
"Dost thou approve, my prince?" Tony asked, grinning, as Loki ate another.
Pepper announced that the eggs were ready, and the others sat down as she handed them each a plate. Momentarily unattended, Loki reached for the TV, pressing several buttons until it suddenly turned on. Loki jumped backwards as the screen flared to life, nearly dropping the grapes.
"Easy there," Bruce laughed, taking the remote and turning down the volume. "It's not going to eat you."
Loki stared at the screen with a mixture of curiosity and disgust as a particularly sappy soap opera played. He turned to Tony, perplexed. "Is this what you consider entertainment?"
"Unfortunately, yes," Tony replied. "But the sex scenes make it all worth it."
Steve turned brick red, and Pepper rolled her eyes. "Tony. Not at breakfast."
"How about at dinner, then?" Tony said mischievously, grinning at Pepper, who swatted his shoulder.
Bruce flipped through the channels, stopping at a documentary of the French and Indian War. "You might like this a little more."
Loki watched the program skeptically; he had just started to express interest when the battle scenes were whisked away and commercials began. "What is this?" he cried, recoiling as a department store ad displayed an assortment of designer denim jeans.
"Advertisements. The crowning achievement of the free market," Tony said loftily.
Loki stared at the screen in horror, much to the amusement of the others. "We have no such atrocities in Asgard," he muttered.
"Commercials were never this irritating back in-" Steve began, but Tony interrupted him.
"Of course they weren't! What were they selling, horse-drawn carriages?"
"We had cars, Tony," Steve said, glaring.
"Model Ts? Still only in black?"
"Boys," Pepper sighed as Steve prepared for a withering retort. "Loki, if you're looking for something to do, I have some crossword puzzles."
"I have something better," Tony said excitedly. He disappeared into the next room, returning with a jumbled Rubik's cube. He handed it to Loki, who examined the object with confusion. "You have to twist it so all the colors are on all the same sides," Tony explained. Loki nodded, quickly becoming absorbed in the toy as he manipulated it with slender fingers.
Tony leaned over to Bruce, smirking. "He can't solve it," Tony whispered. "I switched some of the colored stickers so that it's impossi-"
Loki set the cube down on the table, colors perfectly arranged.
"What were you saying?" Bruce asked innocently as Tony folded his arms, scowling.
Pepper and Steve laughed as Loki smiled proudly. "Do you want anything more to eat? You didn't have very many of the grapes," Pepper asked, offering some the eggs to Loki. He shook his head, looking a little queasy.
Bruce stood, carrying his plate over to the sink. "That's probably enough for now. He can eat some more later. Has anything more happened with the... Central Park incident?"
"No," Steve replied. "I haven't heard anything from Fury."
"Clint and Natasha are starting to smell a rat, though," Tony added. "They asked what we've been doing."
"You guys have been here almost 24/7 for the past three days," Pepper said, glancing at Loki.
Steve sighed. "We should all go out sometime today. Just to keep Fury from getting suspicious."
"Yeah, Pepper, you can stay with our resident genius and-" Tony froze, picking up his empty coffee mug. "Where did my coffee go?"
Everyone looked around, perplexed; Bruce was the first to notice that Loki's hands were vibrating.
"Oh, no..." he groaned as a playful gleam leapt into Loki's green eyes. "Please tell me you didn't just drink an entire cup of coffee."
Loki smiled devilishly; then, without warning and with more strength than they though he possessed, wheeled his chair around and whizzed down the hallway, cackling as he went. Tony, Steve, and Bruce immediately ran after him. The caffeine seemed to have given Loki an inordinate amount of energy; none of the three men could catch him, and Loki took immense delight in evading them as he propelled himself through the corridors at dizzying speeds. Tony decided he was never letting Loki so much as look at a coffee bean again.
An hour later, the caffeine finally wore off, and Loki slowed to a halt in the middle of a lavishly furnished sitting room. Bruce sprinted in, panting, yelling when he saw Loki, who looked completely exhausted.
"Found him!" he cried, quickly grabbing one of the handles of the wheelchair, just in case the coffee hadn't quite run its course. Eventually Tony entered, followed by Steve, the only one not winded from all the running.
Tony bent over, clutching his stomach and panting. "You - little - sh-"
"Tony!" Steve interjected.
"-what - the hell - was that all about?"
Loki looked utterly spent, but his eyes still glittered with mischief. "That drink. I like it."
"No kidding?" Steve smiled in spite of himself. "I have to admit, that was fun."
"Says the supersoldier who goes for a ten mile jog and doesn't break a sweat," Tony gasped.
Bruce chuckled. "Well, at least we know you're recovering, Loki."
"I do feel much improved. But I fear my energy is sadly depleted." Loki's hands moved towards the wheels of his chair; Tony leaped forward, stopping him.
"Yeah. No. I'm the designated driver. Your license has been revoked."
Loki's face fell. "But it was fun, was it not?"
"Tell you what," Tony said, "I'll play chess with you for the rest of the day."
"Will you really?" Loki's face broke into a wide grin.
"He likes chess?" Bruce asked.
"Oh, you have no idea."
Frigga had spent the afternoon weaving, concentrating on the problem of Loki as her fingers deftly manipulated the golden threads. She had been lost in thought for some time when a rough knock suddenly sounded on her door. Startled from her reverie, she stood, smoothing out her dress. "Who is it?"
"It is Thor," her son's voice answered. Frigga relaxed.
"You may enter."
Thor opened the door and stepped inside. Frigga knew immediately that something was wrong; Thor's expression was of utter dejection, and Mjolnir hung dispiritedly from his hand.
"Thor..." Frigga's words died in her throat as six guards marched into the room, leveling their weapons at her.
"I'm sorry, Mother. I had no choice."
