A lot more questions are had by the team, and we're one step closer to the end. And also featuring some cameos from characters that we were super excited to include! We hope you like them, too. :D
Chapter 9
When Gadreel let them all know that he had sensed the Trickster inside New York City, James took one look at everyone present in the room, noticed all the rather disgusted and reluctant looks, and resigned himself to a rather small team.
Luckily Steve was willing to go along, even though James saw him stashing what seemed like an entire box of protein bars in his utility belt. Loki and Gadreel volunteered as well, but Tony opted out with a small head shake, lips thin.
"I need a little bit more time," Tony said, standing too stiffly to be natural. "Just make sure he doesn't do anything too insane."
"Your definition of insane and mine are two completely different things," Steve told him.
"Yes, point." Tony waved them off. "It's your call, but please don't stab him with anything pointy." He was looking at Gadreel.
"I wouldn't," Gadreel assured him. "He can't harm me."
"Doesn't mean he can't make life unpleasant."
With those words in mind, along with the story that Steve and the others had about the insane maze the Trickster had cooked up for them, James was seriously wondering what he was getting himself into. It was one thing to deal with super-powered menaces that just wanted to hurt someone, but another to deal with something else that wasn't even human and kept hurting – or more often, killing people out of a twisted sense of judgment.
The worst part was that it wasn't even like James could disagree with him.
Given the opportunity, James would gleefully take another chance to castrate/torture/kill his handlers in HYDRA. It was something that he'd never told Steve, simply because he knew what the other would think of it.
"On the plus side, we know what we're going into," Steve said brightly, bouncing slightly on his feet.
"Is that very positive?" Gadreel tilted his head curiously. "The others didn't seem to think so."
"I have yet to think of a suitable way to murder him," Loki said before Steve could respond, "so please take us there now before I do."
"You're not going to kill him," Steve said.
Loki looked bored, but James could see how his fingers kept flickering with green light, as if he was making certain his magic was in reach. "Perhaps not, but it is still an entertaining thought."
"I think it would be best if it stayed a thought," Gadreel said, looking mildly put off at how blasé Loki was over killing the Trickster.
Looking aggravated now, Loki's response was snappish. "It will remain a thought, I assure you. Are you going to take us there, or will I have to?"
Gadreel's jaw tightened, and a second later there was a dizzying sense of displacement before they landed in a dank warehouse that smelled of roasting meat.
James suppressed a gag, breathing in through his mouth. He had been through worse, he reminded himself. He had.
It didn't mean it was pleasant breathing it in, as it cast him back to being with the 107th in a war zone.
Steve's reaction was less subtle with a small "Oh my God."
The source of the burning meat was instantly apparent with the roasting human body on fire. A healthy distance away and with a rather pinched look on his face was the being they had been searching for.
"Okay," was the first thing the Trickster said. "That one wasn't me, so don't go getting all high-and-mighty on me again."
"You mean you don't set people on fire?" James asked, casting his eyes back to the burning body before he could stop himself.
"I didn't set him on fire," the Trickster corrected him.
That wasn't making him feel better. "So if you didn't do it…"
"I distinctly remember a puzzle involving fire in a certain maze," Loki said, eyes narrowed.
"It's not like you got burnt." The Trickster rolled his eyes. "And one case of fire doesn't mean I'm responsible for all of them. Am I suddenly the culprit in every arson case in the last week?"
"Tony's set a lot of things on fire," Steve said rather nasally. James glanced over to see him desperately trying to breathe through his mouth. Sometimes those enhanced senses were really awful. "He thinks it's funny."
The Trickster shrugged. "Maybe it is. Still didn't do it."
"Then who did?" James asked, pointedly gesturing around the empty space.
"Do I look like I know?" The Trickster affected an exasperated tone, spreading his arms. "Maybe the guy who took a header out that giant hole in the window, since he was actually here when all this shit went down. Unfortunately, I only caught the last bit of the show."
Gadreel stiffened, his eyes narrowing slightly. He disappeared a split-second later. James barely had time to recover from the sudden absence before he was back, a soaked man clothed in black in his arms. He was also dripping blood.
The Trickster eyed the group with something like disappointment. "Huh. You work fast."
"He was dying," Gadreel said stiffly, setting the man down on the grungy floor. He put two fingers to his head, and the worst of the wounds that James could see through the torn-open holes in his clothes closed shut, although the blood didn't disappear.
"And now he is not," Loki said, eyes flickering up from the now-healed man to the Trickster. "I suppose this was your idea of a distraction?"
"Well, ideally, you'd have all gone rushing after him to satisfy your hero complexes or whatever," the Trickster said idly, "But it was more like a fortunate coincidence. I'm gonna take a wild guess here and say you won't believe me if I say I haven't actually done anything."
"The obituaries we pulled up say otherwise," Steve pointed out.
"I meant here specifically, but whatever floats your boat." The Trickster looked warier than the last time they'd met. "What, did you want a rematch? 'Cause that can be arranged."
James opened his mouth, but Steve beat him to the punch, sounding so damn earnest as he said, "We just want this to work out. Tony's my friend, and I want him to be okay."
"As if that would work," Loki muttered under his breath, looking pained.
The Trickster looked like he shared Loki's feelings. "You're serious," he deadpanned. "Really."
"Of course!" Steve also looked super eager.
James eyed him for a few more seconds before realizing that this was complete bullshit and he might as well go all in. "Uh, yeah. That's his serious face, in case you couldn't tell." He could practically feel the holes Loki and Gadreel were boring into his back.
"Yeah, well, I'd love to stay here and chat my feelings out with Mr. Stars-and-Stripes," the Trickster said, looking just as done with them as a whole, "but I've really got better things to be doing."
"But I haven't yet talked to you about your favorite recipes!" Steve protested.
It took James another second before he added, trying not to sound as bemused as he felt, "Candy recipes."
"Are you two drunk?" Loki asked incredulously.
"They have no alcohol in their blood," Gadreel said rather tentatively.
The Trickster looked utterly bemused, gaze flickering to Loki and Gadreel like they were in some kind of "wtf" fellowship.
"So you don't have any?" Steve pressed, a shit-eating grin on his face that James recognized from their heydays.
"There's no way you're being serious."
"It's for Tony," James said, keeping his face blank as the Trickster's eyes fell on him. "He really likes candy, too. And you seem to have…good taste."
"We figured you'd—"
"All right." Steve didn't get halfway through the sentence before the Trickster's hand moved in a sharp line, cutting off his voice. "I don't know what you're doing, and if you weren't here to do who-knows-what to me I'd commend you on the bullshit, really."
Gadreel frowned, doing his own hand gesture. "That wasn't nice." The words were bland.
"I'm not nice." James suddenly understood what Steve meant when he had described the Trickster's smirk as "ominous." "And FYI, don't lecture someone on being nice while undoing their handiwork."
"I was doing him a favor," Gadreel said. "Silencing others really isn't something you should be doing."
"And yet, I just did." The Trickster made a thoughtful face. "Huh. It's like I actually don't care what you think. Crazy, huh?"
"I believe we already knew that," Loki said. "Seeing as how that you have not tried to put us through another accursed 'test,' I assume you will not be doing so after all?"
"He would not get past me a second time regardless," Gadreel said, his tone softly threatening.
Steve opened his mouth, probably to spew off another line of bullshit, but James dug his elbow into his side before he could, shaking his head subtly. They were both horribly outclassed here, along with the poor sap that James was 95% sure was faking his unconsciousness.
"Why are any of you even here, anyway?" the Trickster asked. "I haven't done anything. Yet. You've got angel mojo and crap, you can tell that. Is this more superhero bullshit about protecting 'your' city?" His tone made air quotes unnecessary.
Gadreel pulled a face that was pure Tony Stark. "We just thought we'd see how you were doing. After all, you are trespassing in our city."
"Besides," Loki said offhandedly, his eyes glinting, "we would be remiss if we did not welcome you back after the lovely test you put us through."
"Oh, so this is payback." The Trickster's eyes glinted as his smirk returned. "Didn't this just get a whole lot more interesting."
"Why do you think I agreed to come confront you again?" Loki's voice was ominously threatening, and James suddenly doubted the wisdom of letting Loki come (not that they could have stopped him, really). But despite the obvious threat, the Trickster just grinned like he wasn't facing down a god.
Or an Asgardian. Whichever.
"You're assuming I'm interested enough in you to pay attention to any threats." The Trickster didn't look phased in the least. "No offense, but Loki's already been done."
"I'm quite aware of your other self," Loki said quietly in a tone that boded absolutely nothing good. "I think you should be a bit more concerned for yourself."
"Uh-huh. And you've done a great job so far convincing me of that."
James couldn't help but tense warily as the Trickster's gaze moved to him. "Face it," the latter said, probably still addressing Loki, "you're just not that interesting. Your new friend here, though…"
"If you're going to get into my head, that's already been done," James said tersely. "There's nothing you can pull up that I haven't already been over myself."
"Wanna bet?"
"Are you really willing to try that again?" Gadreel's voice was threatening, something like thunder hidden in it.
"You think you're the only one who can punish people?" James didn't flinch as the Trickster looked at him. "We do enough of that ourselves."
"Oh, I'm aware." The Trickster's grin was sharp. "But your system has a few…gaps. That's where I come in. I'm familiar with your 'punishments.'"
James inhaled slowly, metal fingers curling into a fist. "I wasn't talking about the legal system."
"Oh?" The Trickster's eyebrows rose. "Intriguing."
He moved almost too quick to see, making James jump back when he poked into the ex-assassin's personal space. "What did you mean, then?"
James almost didn't say it, but there was something like curiosity in the Trickster's eyes. "We punish ourselves," he said quietly. "Where do you think guilt comes from?" Clint had called it "self-flagellation" on a more memorable occasion, only to shut up on the matter once Natasha pointed out that he did the same thing.
"Clint tried that already," Steve said flatly, all hint of his earlier mood gone. "It didn't work."
"Damn right it didn't." The Trickster was still grinning, not backing away. "What's there to be guilty about? They deserved it."
James didn't twitch, letting a rather ruthless grin out. "You think I regret that?" He didn't blink, holding the Trickster's eyes. "You're slipping if you think that's what it is."
"Oh." The Trickster sounded intrigued, leaning even closer. "This is new. I was talking about my victims." He let out a whistle. "How the hell did someone like you end up in cahoots with this righteous boyband?"
"Bucky—" Steve started, only to cut off when James raised his hand.
"I am what I am," James said, "not what they made me. I don't kill anymore." Putting his left hand to the Trickster's chest, he pushed him away. "If you can really read minds, you'd see that."
"Maybe I like it better when I can get you to tell me," the Trickster retorted. "What a spoilsport. And here I thought I'd found someone interesting."
"I think that if you found me interesting, I'd be in deep shit," James said, letting a hint of humor creep into his tone. "I'll settle for being boring."
"Why the hell would you do that? Boring's no fun." The Trickster groaned, finally stepping back and turning in a circle so that his back was to them for a brief moment. "Humans. Just when you think you get 'em, they go and do crap like this, I tell you."
"That is what makes them humans," Gadreel said. "It is also what makes them interesting."
"As if." The Trickster snorted. "What, their inability to make up their damn minds?"
"What makes them interesting to you?" Loki appeared disarmingly disinterested, but his hand was still clenched and sparking occasionally with green.
The Trickster shot him a grin that made James think the Trickster knew exactly how much of Loki was pure bullshit. "When they stop caring about morals, obviously."
"Incidentally," Steve said, "that's also when they lose their humanity."
Well, James wouldn't go quite that far, but practically everyone he knew who didn't have morals were absolute monsters. The Red Skull, as far as he knew, had no qualms about doing anything. Doom, for all he'd been an egomaniacal dictator, did have some.
So Steve had a point, even if it hurt because at an earlier point in his life, James didn't have morals. Because he'd had nothing else to hold onto but his job.
"Like I said," the Trickster said, another slow smile spreading over his face. "That's when they get interesting."
The look Steve had on his face was probably unrecognizable to anybody but James, because no one had such a unique way of expressing disgust and horror as Steve.
"You manipulate them," Steve bit out a few seconds later, his cheeks slightly flushed.
"Did you not notice that before?" the Trickster asked dryly. "'Sides, I don't manipulate them into doing anything they wouldn't already do. Most of the time, I just wait for the right moment."
"Is that why you enjoy a lack of morals?" Gadreel asked quietly. "Because it makes it easier for you to find more victims?"
"Well, sure. Why else would I care?" The Trickster stuck his hands in his pockets. "What else do you guys do for me? I mean, I'll give you credit, you did invent candy." He shrugged. "Not much else worth mentioning."
"'Not much else,'" Loki repeated, looking utterly done with the Trickster. "You cannot think of anything?" Oddly enough, James thought he heard a note of actual surprise.
"Just because you've got an elevated sense of their worth doesn't mean the rest of us give a damn," was the immediate retort.
Loki studied him for a moment, a slight furrow between his brows.
The Trickster looked vaguely alarmed. "What's that look for?"
"I pity you," Loki said eventually, his face smoothing out. "All this time spent around humans, and you clearly have no idea what you are missing. I suppose that is the result of interacting with the worst of humanity."
"Pity?" The Trickster sounded genuinely shocked. He'd stopped dead, having been moving from side to side without really leaving one spot until Loki had spoken. He made several false starts to speak again; Loki had quite obviously rattled him. "Pity? Because I don't like humans?"
"You live in a world of humans, and you have no idea what you are missing," Loki said, unruffled by the Trickster's reaction. "Because you are too full of yourself to consider that perhaps you are wrong."
The Trickster stared for another moment, and then seemed to collect himself. "Well, you're not the first to call that a bad thing."
"And yet you have failed to learn," Loki noted dryly.
"I'm never wrong."
James almost called the Trickster's bullshit, but it was Loki's eyebrows practically disappearing into his hair that did the trick.
"That was a lie," Loki said after a few seconds, his voice saccharine sweet. "Everyone has been wrong at some point."
"A failing of having a conscious mind," Gadreel said, "or so I'm told."
"A failing of not being a Trickster, more like."
The twin looks Gadreel and Loki shot the Trickster both clearly said "bitch, please," and were accompanied by truly impressive eyebrows.
"I may not know much about your kind," Gadreel said, "but I have learned that you deal in concrete matters, not shades of gray. And I'm afraid, Trickster, that this world you have found yourself in is very gray."
"Like no one else has ever used that argument?" The smirk had found its way back onto the Trickster's face. "Like you're the first people who ever confronted me. I don't care about gray. I simplify."
"Like a kid would," Steve said. "And I don't think you'd like that comparison."
"Not the first time I've been called a kid." The Trickster kept grinning. "Still not the worst I've been called."
"If you would like to be treated as a child, that can be arranged," Loki offered, his tone carefully bland in a way that suggested something was about to be messed up.
James saw Steve edge backwards as if in preparation for whatever Loki was planning. After a second's thought, James did so as well, making the movement casual.
"I'm older than you, sweetheart." The Trickster's smile was almost venomous. "How old are you – a thousand? Come back when you're an actual match for me."
Gadreel's face was set like stone, and, stepping forward, he raised his hand. "I don't have to hurt you to take you out." A bright, silver light started glowing from the center of his palm, his eyes following suit. "Would you like to try it?"
"I thought you were here to talk me down or some other crap like that." There was an undeniable wariness in the Trickster's eyes, which were fixed on Gadreel. He'd backed up, putting a more comfortable distance between him and the angel.
"You know what our goal is in the end," Gadreel said, his eyes and hand still glowing eerily. He took a step forward, not seeming to care that the Trickster in turn edged backwards. "We can either do it now painfully, or if you would rather turn yourself in…"
"Fuck that. You can try all you want, you're not getting me."
James wasn't quite sure what happened next, only that Gadreel disappeared from view, reappearing behind the Trickster, bringing his hand down towards the other's face. But the moment his fingers touched skin, the Trickster fizzled out in blue mist.
Gadreel looked utterly pissed, his fingers curling into a fist as his hand dropped down to his side. "An illusion." Taking a breath and releasing it, that unearthly light in his eyes faded to his natural hue. "He must have escaped some time ago."
Letting out his own breath, Steve's shoulders slumped slightly. "You can still sense him?"
Cocking his head, Gadreel said, "He hasn't left the city. We'll be able to find him."
Shaking his head, James crouched down by the masked guy in black, poking him in the shoulder. "You can stop faking now. We're not here to hurt you."
It took a few seconds as the man seemed to consider James's words, and then he nodded slightly, his chest expanding as he took a deeper breath. Throat rippling as he swallowed, the man sat up, ignoring the hand James offered him.
The mask was pitch black, James realized, studying him. There weren't any eye holes, and the only visible features of his face were his scruffy jaw and mouth. He could see pale, bloody skin peeking out of the slashes in his clothes. Eyeing a streak of dark blood on the concrete floor that looked like the guy had practically been dragged across the floor, James was thankful Gadreel had healed him.
"You're all right?" Steve asked when the man didn't immediately speak.
The man's head tilted slightly as if he was listening to something, face turning to where Steve was standing. "Thanks to your friend," was his eventual response, his voice gruff.
"You're welcome," Gadreel said, the corner of his lips pulling into a small, pleased smile. "I healed…almost everything I could find."
"Almost"?
The man shifted. "I noticed." His head swiveled, that eyeless black mask looking at each of them in turn. "What are you doing here?"
"Since Gadreel fished you out of the river half-dead, I think that's what we should be asking you," James said bluntly.
"Anyone fancy some barbecue?" Loki asked idly, his gaze flickering to the still burning corpse by the wall. He sounded so much like Tony that James mentally groaned.
The masked man's nose scrunched up in evident disgust, his lips curling. "It was an accident," he said finally, the words stilted.
Gadreel was studying him. "He would have killed you," he said evenly. "There is no need to regret what you did."
"You still didn't answer my question," James said.
It was a few seconds before the man heaved a sigh, rolling his shoulders. "I was following a lead. It didn't pan out."
"And you ended up half-dead," James concluded, nodding. "It happens."
"Do you think we could take this out of here?" Steve asked, voice pinched. "I'd really rather not stay here any longer than necessary with that." He purposely didn't look at the burning corpse.
James had sadly gotten rather used to the smell of roasting meat, but that didn't mean he wasn't battling a sense of vague nausea. From the way the masked guy was breathing carefully through his mouth, he thought Steve wasn't the only one suffering.
"I'll get my own ride," the masked man said, raising a gloved hand as if bidding them goodbye.
"There's no need," Gadreel assured him, close enough now that he could touch the other's shoulder. "Let's go."
It was only a second, and then James was breathing in untainted air with a sense of utter relief. Not even the sudden displacement was enough to dampen his pleasure at being out of that disgusting warehouse.
The masked man didn't seem to share James's pleasure, staggering back from Gadreel as if dizzy. "Wh-what—" He stumbled away from them, practically falling onto the couch behind him.
Loki had gone to the windows, peering out at the obnoxious billboard that lit up the entire room in technicolor. "What a droll display. How do you manage?"
"How did you do that?" the man demanded, his knuckles white where he was clutching the couch cushions.
"You were thinking of it," Gadreel said. "My apologies, but it is a force of old habit that I am still working on breaking."
"Anything that got us out of that," Steve said, heaving in a deep breath. "Five more minutes and I would've been sick."
Loki shot Steve a look. "You seemed well enough to try and bullshit the Trickster. Next time you try something like that, let us know beforehand."
"It was spur of the moment," Steve said unapologetically. "We had to throw him off his guard. It worked."
"For like five minutes," James said. "Seriously, recipes?"
"You played along," Steve retorted, giving James a shit-eating grin that he'd seen too often.
"I thought you had a plan," James said. "Not whatever the hell that ended up being."
"He's right," Gadreel said, looking between the two. "It worked, as I suspect the Trickster decided to leave while you were 'bullshitting' him." The air quotes were practically audible. "He used our own distraction to his advantage."
"Maybe next time you decide to have a conversation with a nutcase, try doing it when I'm not there," the man said, standing. He edged around the couch, putting more distance between them. "What was he even doing there?"
It was a good question, as the Trickster hadn't seemed upset at them for rescuing this guy. He also hadn't had anything to do with the burning corpse, so what had he been doing? Watching a fight?
Steve seemed to be thinking the same. "What was he doing there?" He glanced at Gadreel.
"It doubtlessly had something to do with whatever we missed before arriving," Loki said, his eyes on the masked man. "Do you have anything to say about that?"
"I don't know why he'd be interested in that," the masked man said. "It was just me and the dead guy."
"You're leaving something out," Loki retorted.
The man didn't look surprised, but James couldn't get much from his mouth alone. "There was Fisk," he admitted, "but he wasn't there for long."
"Who's Fisk?" Gadreel glanced at Steve, as though he might hold the answer.
Steve just shrugged, his eyes going to the window as if he might find the answer out there. "This is…Hell's Kitchen, isn't it?" He looked back at the others. "There was something on the news earlier about a guy who was going to rebuild this place or something. I think he said his name was Fisk, but I wasn't paying too much attention. That was about the time that – uh…" He glanced at the masked man.
Something to do with Tony, then, James assumed.
The man snorted, the sound pure disgust. "It figures."
Steve's eyes snapped to his face. "What do you mean by that?"
If James had a better look at the guy's nose, he was sure he'd see his nostrils flaring. "While you're busy worrying about things happening across an ocean, you don't see your city crumbling around you." Exhaling heavily, the man turned away. "You should go. There's nothing you can do here."
With a jolt of vague alarm, James recognized that "come fight me" look on Steve's face. "You think we don't notice—"
"I don't think," the man snapped angrily, "I know. You're up in that tower of yours; what do you see up there? You haven't even noticed the corruption at your feet. Go on and deal with your sewer systems and robots. I've got this handled."
"The Trickster is about to handle it for you, if this Fisk is the type of man I think he may be," Loki said quietly, making the masked man turn around. "There was no other reason for him to be there, and judging by the vitriol in your voice when you spoke his name, I suspect that this Fisk may be in for a very unpleasant surprise in his future. You may accuse us of looking too far to see this city, but I assure you that we have dealt with things you would not believe."
The masked man's mouth was a tight line as he faced Loki. "Then explain them," he said. "Who was the man you were talking to?"
"No one you'd want to handle," Steve said.
"No one he could handle," Loki corrected, eyes scanning the masked man from head to toe.
There was no change in the man's tone as he said, "That didn't answer my question."
Gadreel sighed, his jacket rustling as he shifted. "A friend of sorts. Albeit a rather confused one."
James resisted the urge to say "no shit."
"You're not exactly making your case here," the man said, the words biting. "I know he wasn't human. And neither are you."
"Hey," James protested. "I'm human."
The man didn't look at him. "They aren't." His gesture encompassed the general area of where Gadreel and Loki were. "What's the deal with this 'trickster'? As far as I could tell, he's just another self-righteous ass."
"And you would know all about those," Loki said pointedly.
A muscle ticked in the man's jaw. "I know enough."
Steve wet his lips, breathing out slowly. "It's a bit of a long story, and it's not one you'd believe."
"It isn't ours to tell," Gadreel said.
"I heard enough of what you were talking about to know that this guy isn't going to stop," the man snapped, annoyance clear in his tone. "He's unreasonable, even if he wants to make himself out otherwise. And if he's running around killing people, then I need to know what I'm dealing with."
"This is not your concern," Loki told him in a rather patronizing tone that had James wincing. If his read of this man's character was right, that kind of tone wasn't going to go over well at all. "If you would recall, we found you half-dead from injuries inflicted by a human. This Trickster would eat you for breakfast."
The man's hands curled into fists, uncurled, and then fisted again. "You think not telling me anything is going to help?" he bit out through gritted teeth. "Or would you rather I go running off and right into his arms?"
There was a thumping noise at the door to the apartment, followed by someone rather drunkenly calling someone "Matt" and asking him to open the door.
There was no response from the masked man other than a subtle twitch of his head. James barely caught it, but it was there.
"We are not trying to get you killed," Gadreel said tightly, ignoring the noise. "We are trying to convince you that it would truly be a bad idea to involve yourself with a being you know nothing of. You know little less than we do."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" the man asked tersely. "Do you realize what you're asking me to do here? I am not leaving the people of this city unprotected because you can't keep a handle on whatever the hell this trickster is. Either tell me what exactly he is so I can defend myself or get out." He flung his hand out, pointing almost but not exactly at the door. James wondered how thick the mask he was wearing was.
The voice at the door had become more insistent, but none of them were paying any attention to whoever it was, letting the disturbance become background noise.
"We're not leaving if the first thing you do is run after this guy and try and find him," Steve said firmly.
"I can take care of myself," the man said angrily.
"Yes, which is why you were half-dead," Loki agreed wryly.
The man stiffened, his jaw tensing. "That won't be happening again."
Loki raised his eyebrows. "Because you will remain here at home?"
"Like hell," the man snapped, his voice raising on the last word. Cutting himself off, he drew in a sharp breath through his teeth, his fingers flexing at his sides. "I have a job to do," he continued more quietly. "And this trickster isn't going to stop me."
"Running around in a mask and beating up bad guys in the middle of the night doesn't exactly pay well," James said casually. "I'm sure you have an actual job you can do."
"What? You gonna tie me up?" Chuckling, the man grinned, the gesture more a baring of teeth than anything polite. "That's not going to work."
"You look kinda wiggly," James acknowledged, eyeing the guy's lean but muscular frame. He definitely wasn't built as a linebacker, but he didn't look like a pushover. Anyone who was still alive after being as torn up as he had been was definitely tough.
"We weren't going to be tying anyone up," Steve added, shooting James a warning look. "We don't do that."
"Then I guess we've reached a stalemate," the man said, folding his arms across his chest.
Taking an irritated sounding breath, Steve's lips twitched downwards at the corners. "We don't want you hurt if there's something we could have done."
"And yet you don't want to tell me who this guy is," the man said. James thought he might possibly be raising his eyebrows, but that mask hid just about everything except for a possibly amused quirk of his lips.
The fact of the matter was, unless you actually lived with Tony or knew him personally, no one would believe them if they explained. And as far as James knew, the Trickster was one-of-a-kind in this universe. Where Tony was originally from was a different question, but he didn't speak about it often.
Explaining the Trickster was one thing, but this guy had absolutely nothing to do with it other than a horrible case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Besides, it wasn't as if the Trickster would be running around wreaking havoc for much longer.
As soon as Tony had himself properly sorted out, he'd be taking care of his errant self and then they could go and pick up the other Loki.
After a few seconds of staring at the masked man and possibly staring into his soul – James wasn't sure, but he thought that was a thing angels did – Gadreel started, "The Trickster—"
"What the fuck are you guys doing in Matt's apartment?" an unfamiliar voice shouted.
Everyone spun, looking at the newcomer standing on the stairs in the corner. He was slightly heavy-set with longish blond hair, and he seemed to be more or less sober now instead of drunkenly banging on the door. He was also a mixture of bewildered and scared, eyes flickering between all of them.
Damn it.
James should have noticed something was off when the guy shouting for "Matt" had stopped.
"You—" The guy looked like he wasn't sure who he was supposed to be concentrating on. He settled on Steve. "What are you doing here?"
"You know him?" The masked man sounded puzzled, which was odd as Steve was pretty recognizable thanks to his star-spangled costume.
The blond guy looked startled. "That's Captain America, of course I—" he frowned, looking quizzically at the masked man. "'Course I've heard of him," he finished, but still looked put off, like he couldn't tell exactly what was bugging him. "How the hell did you all get in here?"
Steve opened his mouth, shut it, frowned slightly, and glanced helplessly to James. Gadreel and Loki were no help at all, Loki looking far too amused for his own good.
James took pity on him. "There's a door," he pointed out blandly, pointing to it with a thumb.
"Which was locked!" the guy protested. He took another step down, groped along the wall, and then came back with a white stick that he brandished threateningly. "Avengers or not, I will call the police! What did you do with Matt?" he demanded angrily.
"He's fine," the masked man said, raising his hands placatingly. "He's safe."
"Why – because you kidnapped him? Or are you going to blow him up?" the other one accused him.
"I didn't blow anything up!" the masked man objected, his voice raising again. His mouth snapped shut a second later.
The other man squinted at him, confusion once again flickering over his face. "Yeah, well," he said finally, fingers tightening on that stick, "I don't believe you. That still doesn't answer my question as to what you're doing in my friend's apartment. With the Avengers no less!"
It took a moment, but then a truly terrifying grin crossed Loki's face. "Oh, this is just rich. I have not had this much amusement in years."
"I fail to see the entertainment in this," Gadreel said, brow furrowing in confusion.
"This isn't funny," the masked man said sharply.
"I beg to differ," Loki said, still grinning broadly. "All that is missing is the popcorn."
"Loki," Steve sighed, the word filled with irritation. "Please…"
"I'm giving you five seconds!" the other man interrupted them, his eyes flickering between all of them. "Tell me where Matt is or I'm calling the police!"
"He's safe," the masked man assured him, something close to panic in his voice.
"Yeah," James agreed, eyes scanning the other's figure. "He's pretty safe." Considering this Matt was standing right here and in perfect shape thanks to Gadreel's handy healing abilities, he was perfectly safe.
Matt's friend shook the stick at James. "I'm asking the Devil, not you!"
"Is that your title?" Loki asked Matt, his nose wrinkling. "I must admit, you do not seem much like the Devil to me. For one thing, he was rather more volatile."
"Loki, please," Steve repeated, looking rather like he wanted to drag him off somewhere private.
Matt glanced at Loki – or he seemed like he did. It was rather difficult to tell given the mask. "It wasn't my idea."
"Just like you didn't bomb the hell out of Hell's Kitchen?" Matt's friend demanded, his fingers flexing on the stick. The more James looked at it, the more it looked like a cane for the blind. Several pieces were quickly falling into place, though he couldn't quite understand how it worked.
"I didn't do it," Matt denied, his jaw tight. "It was – it was Fisk."
"What?" Matt's friend huffed. "The guy who just announced his intention to rebuild Hell's Kitchen? That's not very likely. Next thing you'll be telling me is that Captain America over there is a Nazi."
Steve made a face of such absolute disgust that James had to bite back a grin. This really wasn't the time.
"He's lying," Matt said tightly, jaw clenching. "He thinks he's rebuilding it, but he's going to tear down every inch of it first. I'm not the bad guy here."
"Oh yeah?" Matt's friend challenged, his own jaw tightening stubbornly. "If that's really true, tell me where Matt is! And none of that 'he's safe' bullshit."
James could see that the friend wasn't going to let this drop, too worried about Matt's safety. And he could also see that Matt was extremely reluctant to let his friend know that he was Matt moonlighting as a masked dude fighting crime.
That would probably put a kink in any friendship.
"He is concerned," Gadreel said, looking at Matt. "Should you not tell him and put his fears to rest?"
Matt gave a small snort, grinning briefly. "It's not going to help."
Matt's friend was frowning again, squinting at Matt as if he was trying to place him. "I must be going crazy," he muttered, blinking. In a louder voice: "Try it."
Taking a breath, Matt turned away from Gadreel, his fingers flexing nervously. He wet his lips, shifting his weight anxiously from foot to foot. Then, slowly, he reached up to his mask, pulling it up over his head, his face turned downwards.
James could have pinpointed the exact moment when Matt's friend realized exactly what he was looking at, eyes widening, mouth falling open slightly, hands slackening on the stick he was still holding. "M-Matt?"
Taking the mask off entirely, Matt clutched it one hand, letting it fall to his side. His face was startlingly young, dark brown eyes staring off at some point on the wall over his friend's shoulder, not quite meeting the other's eyes. His voice trembled slightly as he said, "Foggy."
James took a private moment to wonder what parent named their poor child "Foggy" before deciding that it had to be a nickname. Even then, what adult went by Foggy?
The newly-named Foggy let the stick fall to the floor, taking a stumbling step backwards into the staircase. He clutched onto the bannister, face disbelieving. "You – you're the Devil of Hell's Kitchen?" It was another second before he demanded, rather panicked, "Is that blood? Are you bleeding?"
"I'm fine," Matt assured him. "It's nothing."
"So that's not your blood?"
Matt visibly hesitated. James could guess why – neither answer could be easily explained away.
"We should leave you to talk," Gadreel said quietly. James didn't have time to say anything before he felt like he was being swept off his feet, the sickening lurch of transport via angel fading almost immediately. The penthouse of the tower was empty, that late at night – everyone else was busy doing something in other areas.
"Give a little warning, would you?" Steve said with an edge of complaint.
"It's not like it's as bad for you," James shot at him, gripping the back of the sofa to keep himself steady. He hated how disoriented flying with Gadreel (or Tony, for that matter) made him. "You're used to it by now."
"No one gets used to flying like that," Steve told him. "No one. Especially not if we don't get time to prepare."
Loki didn't seem at all frazzled – the bastard. "What I would have given to be a fly on the wall during that conversation…"
"It wasn't our place," Gadreel said disapprovingly.
"No, yet you were the one to take us there initially," Loki pointed out.
"It doesn't matter," Steve said, tugging off his cowl. He ran a hand through his hair, making it even wilder than it already was. "They'll figure it out. We need to focus on finding this Fisk guy. The Trickster's guaranteed to go after him next."
"I feel like I've heard of him before," James volunteered. "I can't place the name, though."
"Was it not mentioned that he had been on the news?" Gadreel asked. "Surely we can just 'look him up.'"
"Personal addresses aren't on the Internet," Steve said, "not unless you're Tony and you like doing something illegal. And if this Fisk is as dangerous as Matt was making him out to be, he's not going to just have a house lying around."
"Then how do you suggest we find him?"
"Well," Tony's voice said from a chair that had been empty mere seconds ago, "that's the handy thing about having people around that can literally sense other supernatural beings." He raised his eyebrows as the others looked at him. "We just pop in."
"We do that and he'll have already gotten to Fisk," Steve said. "Gadreel said he could sense him before."
"Probably a bit late to worry about that," Tony said, interlacing his fingers. "If I know anything about the Trickster, he doesn't wait around." Cocking his head to the side, Tony raised a finger. "Can't you sense him, brother?"
Copying Tony's head motion, Gadreel took a second before nodding. "I can."
"Then why are we still here?" Steve's voice was impatient.
"You guys go ahead," Tony said. "Distract him. I'll bring him in."
James eyed him carefully. Tony seemed calm and put together, unlike the state James had seen him in earlier. "You good for that?"
Tony's smile was flat. "As good as I'll ever be."
Looking up at Gadreel, Steve nodded, his hands curling into fists at his side. "Let's do this."
They landed just outside the apartment, which made James look questioningly at Gadreel. "Can't you get in?" He kept his voice as quiet as he could.
"I'd rather give him as little warning as possible," Gadreel replied, just as quietly.
The door opened as soon as Steve touched it, swinging inward silently under the pressure. It opened onto a pristine white hallway.
Or it would have been pristine, were it not for the body leaking blood into the carpet at the other end.
"We're too late." Steve carefully approached the body, looking down at it with a frown. "I think he was shot."
That didn't seem like the Trickster's M.O., but there were definitely bullet wounds in the man's torso when James glanced at him. It was a dark-haired man with wire-frame glasses, but James was fairly sure of one thing.
"This isn't Fisk."
"And the Trickster is still here." Gadreel looked like he was trying to stare through the wall, eyes narrowed. "I can sense his presence."
James cautiously stepped over the body, trying to avoid the dark red patches on the carpet, and eased around the corner into the next room. It was a living room, just as white and pristine as the hallway, with a modern window wall looking out onto the city.
There was another body near the coffee table, this one much bigger and bearing all the signs of having gone down with a fight. James didn't look very closely as there wasn't much left of the head, but he could tell it was Fisk.
"Oh, geez." Steve's voice was strangled. "What did the Trickster do?"
There was an itch on the side of James's head, like he was being stared at. He turned sharply to look at the other end of the room, stopping short when he saw the desk.
The chair's back was to the three of them, but it was quite obviously occupied.
The Trickster spun around slowly, heels dragging on the floor as if he'd propped them on the desk and then let them fall as the chair moved. "What a surprise – not." He still had that infernal smirk. "Like my little plot twist in the warehouse?"
"It was not entirely unexpected," Loki said evenly. "Illusions are your craft after all, are they not?"
"If that was anything but a rhetorical question, I'd be kinda worried." The Trickster was spinning a globe in his hands, obviously taken from the desk. He flicked his fingers, sending it whizzing in a circle in its mount. "What do you want now? You can't save them, even with your angel buddy here. And I really doubt you'd want to."
"Every human deserves a chance," Steve said tightly, a muscle in his jaw twitching. "In any case, that's not up to you to decide. They would've been dealt with one way or another."
"Would they really?" The Trickster raised one eyebrow, the picture of skepticism. He pointed the globe at Fisk. "You think he deserved to live? You think anyone would have been able to so much as touch him, the way you think things should be done?"
"I suppose we won't find out," Steve said, jaw set. "Since they're dead. Besides, it isn't as if we can form an opinion on their crimes since you seem to go about just after everyone that pings your radar as having done anything 'not nice.' For all we know, they bamboozled someone at the bank."
The Trickster studied him through narrowed eyes for a moment. "Do you know how I picked something out for baldy over there?" he said conversationally. "Well, it's not like you can really tell he was bald, not anymore…and he did the exact same thing. To a guy he hired to do his dirty work, who had 'embarrassed' him." He used actual air quotes, as if tone alone couldn't possibly convey the depths of how little embarrassment there had actually been. "You may not have a great opinion of me, but believe this – the punishment always fits the crime."
"And the other one?" Steve pointed over his shoulder, not looking away from the Trickster. "What was his crime?"
If this was Steve's way of distracting the Trickster, James hoped Tony showed up soon.
"Oh, he was Baldy's right-hand man," the Trickster said nonchalantly. "It's disappointing, though. I didn't have time to think of anything good." He swiveled back and forth in the chair for a moment, posture slumped and frowning like he'd just been denied some sort of candy or something. "I mean, I put thought into this stuff. Time. Effort. But when someone keeps getting in the way like that…"
He sighed theatrically and spun the globe again. "Ah, well, a waste's a waste but you can't turn back time."
James blinked, and then Tony was standing behind the chair, hands coming down onto the Trickster's shoulders, glowing brightly with light. The Trickster's expression contorted to one of panic, and he moved abruptly as if he was trying to jump out of the chair, but Tony – or was it Gabriel? – held him fast.
"Hey there, me," Tony said cheerfully. "Let's take a ride, shall we?" He was gone in another second, leaving no sign of his presence aside from the Trickster's sudden absence and the globe clattering to the floor.
"What the fuck" was probably the best way to describe how James felt at that moment. All that dancing around, and Tony just popped in and grabbed him like that?
Loki seemed similarly put out. "Considering the amount of trouble he gave us, I expected a bit more of a challenge."
"Be thankful there wasn't one," Steve said, giving the nearly decapacitated body one last look before turning his back to it. "We need to get back – see if he's managed to get himself back together."
"We leave Bodies One and Two here?" James asked. "Would be easier than dealing with the mess." That was just his personal opinion. There was no way they could explain this to the authorities.
"Someone else will find them," Steve agreed. "The smell alone will bring someone coming in a few days."
And if Fisk was someone important, the alarm would be raised even earlier if he didn't come into work.
Either way, they wouldn't have to deal with this.
Bruce jumped as one of the lab tables was violently shoved across the lab by a shock wave that nearly bowled him over. There was a crackle of strange energy within it, like one energy force fighting another – with near explosive results. He turned sharply to see two figures standing in a previously empty patch of space.
Tony was pinning someone against one of the other tables. Bruce was sure his surprise showed as he recognized the Trickster – hadn't Steve and the others just gone to deal with him?
"Holy shit!" Rhodey had jumped up from where he'd been leaning against the wall. He'd been talking to Tony, before Tony had gotten a strange look in his eye and abruptly vanished a while ago. "That's—"
The Trickster laughed, and Bruce almost got goosebumps. The being could have given Doom a run for his money in terms of evil laughs. "Here we are," the Trickster spat. "Right where you want me, isn't it?"
"You two, get out," Tony said sharply, without turning to look at them. "I don't want you getting caught in this."
"More like you don't want them seeing me." The Trickster writhed in Tony's grip, managing to tilt himself to the side even though Tony didn't budge. Bruce felt like he was frozen under the amber gaze, still backed against one of the tables. There was a sneer pulling at the Trickster's lip.
"You all think you're getting rid of me," the Trickster snarled. "You think us being the same will help, will make me just up and vanish, well good fucking luck!"
"Bruce—" Rhodey had pulled at Bruce's arm, but he seemed just as transfixed.
"Get out!" Tony's voice had sharpened.
"You don't want me back." The Trickster's attention was yanked back to Tony, but Bruce could hear an edge of something like desperation. "You think you want to remember all that. You don't. You're an angel. How well do you really think this is going to go?"
"You're just stalling," Tony said, voice deceptively calm. Bruce could see the tension in his posture. "Bruce, Rhodey, I'm warning you, I can't turn this thing on if you're still in the room."
This time, the Trickster's laughter was borderline maniacal. "You don't care! You think you can handle everything, let's see how well you do with me, Gabriel!" He was hissing in Tony's face by the end, contempt written into the lines of his face.
Bruce and Rhodey had backed towards the door at this point, nearly too drawn in by the conversation to go through it. "Tony—" Rhodey began.
"Go!"
Bruce slammed the door shut.
They could still see through it – it was made of glass, like most of the workshop walls. He could see Tony bent over the Trickster, keeping him pinned against the table, see Tony's hand touch the Trickster's head.
A shiver went through the latter, visible even from a distance, and before the machine lit up the workshop with a blinding light Bruce saw two Tony Starks scowling at each other.
The light was bright enough that the two of them were forced to turn away, shielding their eyes. It lasted only a moment, and when Bruce felt safe enough to try looking into the lab again, Tony was slumped against one of the tables, hands gripping the table tightly enough that Bruce could see how much he was bending the metal.
"Crap." He scrambled to his feet, ignoring Rhodey's warning shout and slammed the button to open the door. Tony didn't move as he got closer, but one hand snapped out once Bruce got within a few feet.
"Don't—" There was another wave of force that pushed Bruce back slightly, with a static shock and a few wavering blue sparks.
"Tony—?"
Tony made a tight, tense noise. "Talk to me about the paper you're writing." His voice was strained.
"What?" Was that really his priority right now?
"Talk to me!" Tony shouted. "I've got two power sources in me that do not want to cooperate; I need something else to concentrate on!"
"Is that really going to work?" Bruce asked anxiously, kneeling to be on Tony's level.
When Tony looked up at him, the movement was sharp, like he was having trouble moving his own body and had to force it to work. His eyes were an unusual amber color instead of their normal brown, and Bruce sucked in a sharp breath as he realized they were still the same color the Trickster's had been. He had to stop himself from leaning away, but a nagging voice in the back of his head wondered how much else there was of the Trickster still lurking under the surface.
"You're going to have to trust me," Tony said, sounding out of breath, and then winced. Part of the bench broke away under his hand, and his eyes momentarily flared a familiar blue-white while blue energy fizzled over his fingers. "Come on—"
"Okay!" Bruce cast around for some detail of the paper, the details of which were somehow managing to elude him even though he'd been working on it for a month. He went for a failsafe that he had studied years ago and was still fresh in his head. "I got the Other Guy because I was an irresponsible scientist and didn't test my results. I thought I had it, that I was too smart to have to run simulations, but it ended up backfiring."
"We had a big thing in the army because of that mishap," Rhodey's relatively calm voice came from behind Bruce, only slightly strained around the edges. "I mean, I was in the Air Force, but even there we heard of the fallout around that accident. You really put that stick up General Ross's ass."
"It was already there," Bruce said, glancing back at him. "The Other Guy just drove it up even more. So…" He returned his attention to Tony, who seemed to be doing breathing exercises. "I was very big and very green and really bewildered while also really angry. It didn't make for a good combination."
"No kidding," Rhodey said. "That base was rubble afterwards."
"I'm not very sorry about it," Bruce admitted. Truth be told, while he regretted the loss of life that had come with the Other Guy and Ross going absolutely crazy about the threat, he didn't regret demolishing that particular base and all the research that had gone into it.
Tony took another breath, held it for a few seconds, and then let it out slowly, opening his eyes. They were back to brown, and his hands weren't tangled with that blue energy anymore.
"You good, Tony?" Rhodey asked quietly.
After one more breath, Tony nodded. "Yeah. I'm good now." He smiled at Bruce. "Thanks."
"I'm glad my superhero origin story helped calm you down."
"I needed something else to focus on." Tony's eyes dropped to the dents in the table. "It would've been rather volatile otherwise."
"Like before?" Rhodey asked.
"Not as violent, no." Tony rubbed his forehead briefly before flicking his fingers. Abruptly four other people appeared in the workshop, Gadreel stumbling slightly as if he had been pushing against something only for it to disappear. "Sorry about that."
Gadreel straightened, eyes scanning Tony's form. "It worked?" His voice was tense, as if he'd expected something to go wrong.
Well, he wasn't wrong about that.
"Three down, one to go," Tony confirmed, his grin a bit brighter now.
"So you…" Steve looked a bit on the nervous side. "You remember more now?"
"I've got a hole roughly the size of the Middle Ages in my memories, but everything else—" Tony tapped his head. "Is back in place."
"That much?" Loki looked surprised. "I hadn't expected the Trickster side of you to possess the majority of your memories."
"He doesn't. That's only about six centuries or so." Tony shrugged. "Which is really nothing."
"Oh, it's nothing," James said dryly. "Six centuries is nothing says the guy to humans who only live seventy years on average."
"But it is the majority of your time spent among the humans, is it not?" Loki asked.
"That it is." Tony looked off to the side, making a face. "Man, those pagans got real weird towards the end."
"I thought the Trickster wasn't pagan?" Gadreel asked. "Or so you thought before."
"I wasn't at that point. But there's a bit of overlap as I was developing that role. It's not like I could just jump from pagan to trickster." Tony rubbed a hand over the table, smoothing the dents until it was like new. "As the pagans lost their power, I needed a backup. So I downgraded a little." He shrugged like it wasn't a big deal that he had redefined his identity a second time. "Lot of other trickster gods never even thought about doing the same – they thought it was degrading. I wasn't really bothered – I mean, I'd already gone from angel to pagan. Hell of a demotion, even if it was voluntary."
"Why did you choose to do it?" Gadreel sounded rather lost.
Mouth twisting, Tony dropped his gaze, leaning back against the table. "I just…had it. With everything upstairs. I couldn't deal with it. And they wouldn't just let me leave, so I…I remade myself. Everything after that's just about Loki, so I can't give you too much more."
Steve seemed to shake himself, resolve creeping into his eyes. "Is there anything you can give us on his capabilities?"
Tony took a moment to think. "Weeellll…don't piss him off is one. See, the thing with Loki is that he – or I, I guess, even if I don't remember – was the original trickster. Take what you will from that."
"Great." James crossed his arms. "So we're dealing with the same thing."
"Not the same thing," Tony said immediately. "The gods were always tangled up with their pantheons, how they got along with other gods, places they'd avoid or just stay out of because it was some other pantheon's territory. The Trickster picked people out. Loki…if he was feeling like it he'd mess with you just because, but nothing like what the Trickster did. Not to that extreme, at least."
"So the rest of the gods started eating humans, you didn't, and yet Loki still has more morals than the Trickster?" James sounded disbelieving.
"Not all the gods did that." Tony paused, and wrinkled his nose. "I sound like some men's rights activist." He shuddered briefly. "The point is," he continued, refocusing, "all the gods that did that were looking for a power-up – they were the ones who suffered the most when the Christians came in, when they started losing followers. Some of the major gods turned to that, because they lost the most compared to more minor gods, and a lot of the other ones in their pantheons followed suit."
He paused again, leaning against the table and looking lost in thought. "There were…some, that I ran into later, that did it because they could. Because they liked exercising that power. Those were the nastier gods." He laughed to himself. "Honestly, I tried to avoid those guys. Gods like Hermes, though – they never did that. Didn't need it. They were powerful enough on their own. Those were the ones I knew. I think."
"You think?" Steve questioned.
"Well, I don't remember most of it, but some of the stuff from when I was a Trickster – yeah, pretty sure."
"You knew Hermes," James deadpanned. "Why am I not surprised that you were friends with the god of thieves?"
Tony smirked lightly. "He was pretty chill. Had a great sense of humor. Only problem was when he ended up as Mercury instead. Mercury was an asshole."
"Damn those pesky Romans," Rhodey said teasingly. "I guess you were lucky you weren't in that particular pantheon."
"It would've been pretty messy," Tony agreed. Raising his eyebrows, he folded his arms across his chest. "That all? 'Cause I think we have more important issues to attend to."
Steve still looked a bit as if something was chewing at him, but he nodded his head. "Let's get the others and formulate a plan."
"I don't suppose you know what the deal with Baldur is?" Rhodey asked curiously.
"Name's familiar, but that's a no." Tony shrugged apologetically. "But I can tell you that the myths are a bit more accurate for over there than here."
"So you did kill him," James said, arms crossed.
"I don't know," Tony said irritably, and then looked like he'd surprised himself with the vehemence. "I'm…I don't remember. I just know that they got more right about it than they did here. Whoever wrote the stories."
Loki was giving Tony an unreadable look. "Then," he said quietly, "we shall simply have to ask again, once you are fully yourself."
It was as good a plan as any, James figured. When had this even become his life?
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