Awake
I finger the hem of my black jacket a little bit nervously. After a good night's sleep Ace and I go to the rooms that we'd woken up in back when we were still strangers. Mr. Stark had contacted us earlier via the TV screen and told us to go to our rooms after we finished sleeping, it would make the transition period easier for them to wake us back up. So here I am lying on the same table that I arrived on, waiting for the tug back to the real world. As I wait, my brain flickers between memories of the past two weeks, thinking of what Alex is going to say to me while I'm still 'higher than a kite,' and worrying over whatever the heck is about to happen. I'm almost glad when my brain suddenly feels sluggish and I begin to get the falling sensation you get in dreams.
My alarm goes off as planned, three in the morning, but I am not asleep. I haven't had a good night's sleep since Loki went under. Honestly, I miss having someone to talk to. I leave my room, not wanting to waste any time. The elevator is not far from my door, so I don't have to worry about waking the others up. I go down to the 66th floor and walk down the chilly hall to the room at the end of the hall. I'm thinking of where to take Loki after he wakes up when Fury passes.
"Morning, sir," I say respectfully. He glares at me much like he did when we failed the training two weeks ago. What's up with him?
I shake it off and open the door to room 200. Alex is on the floor wide eyed, holding her cheek with her left hand. Her eyes are red and puffy, like she has been crying. But it seems that nowadays, when we actually see her, she looks as if she's been crying. After the training she has been more reserved. She hasn't had any meals with us, she is never around, and she never talks to us.
"Alex, what's wrong?" I ask running over to the teen. She gets up and turns her back to me.
"I'm fine," she whispers.
"No you're not," I say, turning her around to face me. "What happened?"
"Nothing..." her hand moves from her face to rake through her hair. That's when I see it. A large bruise forming on her jaw.
"Alex? What in the world happened? Who hit you?"
I rake my brain for possibilities, but none come to me. Wait. Didn't I pass Fury in the hall...? He wouldn't have.
"Please, I'm fine, really. I need to go. I'll be back when they wake up," she says, tears in her eyes.
What has happened to this girl?
It's five AM, finally, the earliest anyone can hope to get Stark down in Room 200 and functioning properly. I sit next to Loki's bedside, as has become my habit over these past two weeks. I'll never let anyone know I've been sitting around here since three. Stark, at least, would never let me live it down. The machines the teenagers are hooked up to began the detoxing process just as they had gotten to sleep last night, and now they are much more awake than I have seen them since they first went under. Which is not much, but a few muscles twitching here and there are far better than the still corpses I'm used to seeing. The aforementioned genius billionaire stumbles into the room, absently sipping a coffee.
"Morning, Cap," he mumbles. I lift my head in response.
"You're sure you're awake enough to be messing around with these two?" I ask.
He nods. "Oh, sure."
"Somehow I'm not reassured by that."
He grins and sets his coffee down. "Oh come on now, Steve. Am I really not worthy of your trust?"
I raise an eyebrow.
"On second thought, don't answer that one."
I look up and sigh. He just chuckles. "Relax, Steve. I've got them." He flips a few switches and turns a dial on the blinking machinery. "Clint and Natasha should be around soon, right?" he asks.
"Yeah, they wanted to be here."
No sooner are the words out of my mouth than the married agents come in. Alex Stark follows, dressed in a lab coat. She hurries over to her father ready to get to work. He looks at her with a smile, but it fades as he sees the nasty bruise and the red-rimmed eyes. She says something and he nods in agreement. And together they begin working on the machines. I sit and watch all the activity, keeping my gaze on my unconscious nephew. The shockingly un-leaderlike thought starts to hammer through my brain. If Stark hurts him in any way, so help me, I will kill him. A few minutes later, Alex turns to me and says the words I've been waiting an hour and a half for.
"We just started the process. They should be coming round in thirty minutes."
***
The last clear image I see for a while is the ceiling of the grey room. Then everything spins and I feel like I'm going to be sick. Oddly enough, the memory of going on a tilt-a-whirl with Uncle Steve is what comes to mind. All the colors of the rainbow flash in front of my eyes at the same time, and I seem to be falling a long way. But- my destination is a small spot of light. It gets bigger, expanding, and then colors start to form in it. A red t-shirt, blonde hair, brown hair, white coat, blinding lights. I'm pulled back into reality with a jerk.
The bright overhead lights of the room come into focus at last and I see that Uncle Steve is to my left and Alex is to my right. A huge smile decorates Uncle Steve's face, but Alex is not wearing her usual smirk. I smile back at them both weakly, still not fully in control of my body.
"Hey."
"Hi, Loki. Welcome back," Uncle Steve replies. I look over at Alex. Her eyes are all red like she's been crying. My face turns to concern.
"Hi." She smiles a sad smile. Her hair moves and I see a rather nasty bruise forming on her jawline. She starts to walk away, and I try to grab her arm. I only succeed in moving my hand a fraction of an inch, but it's enough. She comes back.
"What happened?" I ask. I'm not really sure why I'm so concerned, but I feel really protective of her at this moment.
"It's nothing," she whispers. I look her in the eyes. She's lying. I don't pry, not wanting to make her cry any more than she already seems to have. Instead, against my better judgement, I sit up. The world tilts crazily, but I manage to wrap her in a clumsy embrace. She returns it, whispering a "thank you" as we break.
"Lay down," she insists. "You need to rest."
I nod, not feeling well enough to argue.
I hold my wife's hand tightly as we stand over our sleeping daughter. Tony comes over to us and says that he's going to start waking her up while his daughter wakes Loki up. He punches a few buttons into a handheld computer and the machines gently whirr, stopping the flow of one of the drugs. A few more buttons and a clear liquid begins streaming down the tube, most likely something to aid her in regaining consciousness.
"A few minutes," he says. We nod.
I bid the bland ceiling a not-so-fond farewell and gladly surrender myself to the free-fall that I know is a prelude to my waking up. At first everything is black, but then the same colors that I'd seen when I bid the world good-night come back and flash before my eyes. Brown, red, silver, and a pervasive bright white. I fall faster- but now I'm not falling. I'm rushing up, as if from the bottom of the deep end of the pool. I remember my first swimming lesson, how terrified I was when I touched the seemingly endless water. The same fear places its cold hand around me now, of drowning alone with no one to save me. As if from far away, I'm dimly aware of my voice screaming for pape. The colors grow in intensity until I finally break the surface.
By now, Ace is shifting around a lot in her bed, and we can catch snatches of words. She's talking nonsense- something about a pool. Her heart monitor speeds up. Her mutterings grow louder and more coherent until she finally whispers something all of us can hear.
"Pape! Don't let me drown!"
I reach out and grip the arm that doesn't have IV's and tubes running into it.
"I'm here, Ace," I say firmly. "I am not letting you drown."
My eyes shoot open but then close just as quickly against the flood of light.
"Pape?" I croak through a dry throat. "Mama? Are you there?"
I feel a hand around my left arm and a cool hand on my cheek.
"Yes, malyutka, we're here." I turn my head so it rests in my mama's hand.
"I know," I whisper.
After the adults are satisfied that Ace and I aren't dead, and are indeed fine and functioning somewhat normally, they all file out to give us some rest. When I had woken up there was a curtain separating my bed from Ace's but before she leaves Alex is nice enough to pull it back for us, so that we can talk without much effort.
"You know you still have to tell all the adults that I'm the reigning queen of poker," Ace says from across the room five minutes later.
"That was not part of the deal!"
"Sure it was! We played for bragging rights! I won, and I am prepared to use those rights to my full advantage!"
I roll my eyes, then remember she can't see me.
"I rolled my eyes at you, your majesty."
"Aww, it's okay, my servant. Jealousy is a normal affliction for all those not blessed with the queen's awesome poker skills."
We both laugh briefly, the movement still hurting a little on our empty stomachs. The door swings open, revealing Alex. She looks at the two of us then smiles. I have to admit, I love it when she smiles. She has such a beautiful sweet smile when she's not smirking. I can't help but return the gesture. She walks over to Ace and checks her monitors then does the same to me. She touches my arm gently before walking back out. I'm surprised the heart monitors don't pick up my heart as it beats a little faster. I don't understand the feelings, but I like them.
"Ohhhh," Ace says knowingly from across the room. "So you do like her."
"Like her?"
"To borrow an American term; dafuq, bro? It's practically oozing off of you!"
I sigh, making sure she catches the exasperated note lacing it. All she does is chuckle.
"I know you better than that. You can't be annoyed with me for pointing out the obvious."
She's right. I suppose I have Nick Fury to thank for introducing me to someone who knows me almost better than I do and is not afraid to make fun of me for it. It's quite annoying sometimes, this having-a-sister lark.
We lie in silence for a while, each pretty well exhausted from those two minutes of conversation. Honestly, I have no idea how Fury expects us to be operating at full capacity tomorrow. After about an hour of dozing on and off, the door swings open and Alex comes back in.
"Hey, guys," she says, sounding a little distracted. I look over and see why; she's balancing a huge tray in one hand and closing the door with the other. "So I've been assigned to feed you two brunch or whatever meal it's time for. And to generally monitor your recoveries. If you feel sick, don't bother eating right now, it'll all come back up later."
"What if we're hungry and feel sick?" Ace asks rebelliously. Leave it to her.
"Don't eat. Trust me on this one."
"I'm not sick, just hungry," Ace replies with a silver tongue. I glance over at her. Yup, she's definitely lying. I raise my eyebrows in a silent question but she shrugs it off, accepting a small bowl of applesauce from Alex.
"I'm hungry too," I pipe up. Alex mock-scowls at me.
"Yes, Your Majesty," she says sarcastically. I beam back at her innocently.
"Hey, watch whose title you're throwing around there," Ace says indignantly, mouth half full of applesauce. I roll my eyes. Alex holds back a giggle and holds out another bowl to me. I start to sit up and reach my hand out to take it but the world lurches and I fall back down onto my pillow, suitably embarrassed. I can hear her stifle another giggle.
"Don't laugh at a sick man," I say, a lot more weakly than I'd expected. She rolls her eyes and puts the tray down on a stool that's standing near my bed. Taking the bowl in her left hand and a spoon in her right she begins the torture. Well, I say torture because every mouthful she feeds me Ace nearly dies laughing. It is properly humiliating. Add that to the obvious giggles she's holding back and I am pretty miserable.
My troubles conclude when I'm almost finished and I manage to spill some of the applesauce on my chin. While lying down. And being spoon-fed. And... yes, the list can go on. But as Ace goes over the moon laughing, Alex doesn't laugh at my mishap. Instead she picks up a soft napkin and carefully wipes my face off, bringing her face closer than is really necessary to see what she's doing and smoothing my hair back with a cool hand when she's done. And somehow, that makes it all worth it.
"Tony, we need to talk," Pepper, my oh so loving wife, says walking into my lab.
"Not now, dear. I'm working," I reply.
"Tony," she says pulling me around to face her. "Now."
I sigh, but agree. We walk over to the couch and sit facing each other.
"It's about Alex," she starts.
"What about Alex?" I ask.
"I think you know. The crying? Being so reserved? The bruise? Come on, Tony. I know you are just as worried as I am."
I wish I could deny this, but I can't. She does have a point, and I hate it when she does. Alex has been acting weird ever since the incident with the training. I look at Pepper hoping to see the strong woman who keeps me on track, but instead I see what I feared, a worried mother. And there is nothing worse then a worried mother, and Pepper, well, she's one of the worst.
"What do you want me to do?" I ask taking her hands in mine.
"I want you to talk to her."
"Pep, I have tried. She just shuts me out, and that's not like my Alex. I'm not used to being ignored," I say.
"Tony, I'm not here to talk about your bruised ego, I'm here to talk about our daughter's bruised face," she replies coldly.
"I don't know what to do, Pep. I really don't. Maybe we should just give her some time alone."
"I'm afraid that if we do that..." she trails off into a fit of tears. I hate to see my wife cry. It's as bad as seeing my little girl cry. Instinctively, I take her into my arms and hold her tight.
"What are you afraid of, my love?"
"... that if... if we do... then... we will..." She takes a deep shuddering breath. "I'm afraid that if we do then we will lose her forever."
I pull her tighter to me.
"Nothing, hear me? Nothing! Will ever let us lose her forever. I will fight for her, and I know there is nothing on this planet, or any other, in this universe or another, that would stop you from helping our little girl," I comfort.
After a few moments of silence she answers.
"You're right..."
"I know I am. That's why I'm the genius!" She shoots me a glare saying that that was not what she wanted to hear. So I add to my previous statement. "It is also why I love you."
She kisses me lightly. "I love you too, Tony."
Natasha and I are stretched out on a couch in the top floor of Stark Tower, talking. We are both relieved at our daughter's return to the real world and still a little shaken from seeing our darling so weak and afraid, not a thing we're used to seeing on a regular basis. So we turn to each other, talking about anything and everything for a good two hours. Then the conversation turns to Verusha.
"I...I'm just afraid, Clint," my wife gets the words off her chest. I can tell they've been worrying at her for a long time.
"Why, Nat?" I ask gently, pushing a strand of her bright red hair out of her face.
"You remember Loki. You remember what he did. To the world. To New York. To the team. To you."
I suck in a breath as I remember my time spent in the service of Loki and his magical glowing stick. It's not a time I want to relive.
"I know," I say slowly.
"And now our daughter is close to him, practically a sister."
"We don't know that, love." I do my best to sound reassuring but she sees straight through it.
"Clint. You've worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. as long as I have, longer even. you know how it is in a fighting team. The whole reason they fight so well together is because they know each other, inside and out. You know that if they've got out early they've been successful. And you know that if they've been successful what means they're now pretty much bonded permanently."
I nod carefully.
"Do you realize that our daughter is now as good as sister to a...a monster?"
"Nat, now that's not fair. We don't know how much he's changed. I mean, he's been raised by Captain America, for crying out loud!"
The look on her face tells me that those are not the best words of comfort I've ever chosen.
"Really, though. Remember when we met?"
Her eyes wander back to another place and time.
"Remember why we met?"
"You made a different call," she says, still lost in the memories.
"Well...what if I'm making a different call about Loki, too?" I say gently, stroking her cheek. "Everyone deserves a second chance, even a guy like him."
These words from the very man who Loki had made his personal flying monkey crack something in her defenses. All the worry gushes out of her like air from a balloon. She practically melts in my arms.
"I trust you, Clint. And I hope you're right."
"I do too," I say. "I do, too."
"I'm worried, Thor," I say.
"What troubles thee?" his voice rings out across the room like- well, thunder.
"Well, I'm worried about Loki," I reply.
"Is he harmed in any way?" The paternal worry in his voice would be sweet if I could appreciate it.
"No. It's nothing like that. It's more of... well... his... relationships," I say, attempting to broach the matter gently.
"Has he finally attained his manhood?" I can't help it. My hand flies to my face in an epic display of frustration that I have heard Tony refer to as a 'facepalm.'
"Well, no. But I fear he soon will. With the wrong girl. I'm trying to urge him in the right direction, but it seems to be going off in left-field."
"What is this left-field you speak of?" wonders the Norse god aloud.
"Never mind. It's just a phrase that means...not going well."
"I see. So you worry of Loki beginning to have romantic feelings about a girl?"
"No! It's not that! It's the girl, Thor! I don't like the girl he has romantic feelings for," I snap.
"I think I understand. Go on."
"You have no idea do you?"
"You have, as they say, caught me red-handed. I apologize."
"Think, Thor. Have you noticed Loki acting strangely around any... particular girl?" I ask. I want him to understand, but at this point, I'm just about ready to slap him.
His face finally lights up in understanding. "You worry about the time he has spent in the so-called 'virtual reality program' with the Bartons' child." He seems proud of his discovery.
"No! Think again." I'm glad Banner is not the one questioning Thor about this, because if he was Stark Tower would be in shreds right now.
"Well...the only other young lady around here is the Starks' daughter," he says slowly. "Is she the one of which you speak?"
I nod, finally relaxing a bit.
"You haven't noticed?" I ask.
Thor looks sheepish. "I'm afraid that during the first few breakfasts we shared all together the coffee was of more interest to me. It is such a delightful mortal drink-"
"Thor, listen. I've seen the way Loki looks at Alex, and if I'm right, we are all in deep trouble. Not only will Fury kill us for real, he will break up the team and Stark will kill Loki! Don't you see the problem? Alex is his little girl, he would do anything for her, and Loki, with his past, is not in the cards as a good potential love interest."
"I begin to see your meaning..." Thor looks pensive and rests his bearded chin on a meaty hand. "What do you think is necessary for us to do about it?"
"I think we need to leave. We need to get Loki away from her influence. Stark will understand, and we'll only be a thundercloud ride from New York. I'm sure he can see it too. I don't think he wants us here if Alex and Loki are indeed interested in each other."
"Steve," Thor says, as if humoring a small child, "that idea is far off in left-field. We are happy here and I see no reason why we should leave the team."
"You don't believe me?" I ask, shocked.
"You are credible, Steve, but I do think that on this matter you are indeed off in left-field."
"When they do end up together, you will regret not leaving," I say, sadly, before walking out of the door.
Once Alex leaves, Ace falls asleep right away. I stay up a little though, not tired yet. I guess the drugs are more concentrated in her system because of the simple fact that she's a good ten inches shorter and about seventy pounds lighter than I am. I know that sounds stalkerish, but it's just another perk of getting to know each other for two weeks straight.
I settle for gazing at the ceiling again, and within a few minutes I start to feel sleepy. I stay dozing on and off all day as my body recovers from the heavy sedation it has been under. Once it gets dark outside, though, my internal clock perks up quite a bit and I no longer want to sleep. Ace's breathing is still caught in the steady pattern of deep rest, and I don't want to wake her up just to satiate my own boredom. I have just begun to count the speckles on the ceiling tiles to keep from going mad when the door swings open with the slightest of creaks. I raise my head slightly and see Alex entering, pillow and blanket slung over her shoulder. Her lab coat has been exchanged for a lacy pink tank top, and her slacks for fleecy pants. She unfolds a small cot in the corner, closer to my bed than Ace's. As she spreads a sheet over it and flops her pillow down at its head, I prop myself up onto an elbow. When she sits down on her makeshift bed, lost in thought, I finally speak up.
"So, you going to tell me what you're doing sleeping in here with us?"
She jumps and stifles a shriek. "Jeez, warn a girl next time!"
I raise my eyebrows at her in mock-fury. "You're avoiding the question."
She sighs. "You're hopeless."
"Still haven't answered."
Letting out a groan, she punches her pillow and looks back at me. She shakes her head before walking over to the head of my bed. She checks all the machines I'm hooked up to in a businesslike way. "I'm on duty tonight to make sure you two don't have any complications in your recovery. Good enough, Mr. Busybody?"
"Good answer," I reply, sitting back in my bed to avoid the coming wave of nausea. She takes a seat on the edge of the mattress.
"So you feeling any better?" I pretend to consider this for a moment.
"If feeling like a herd of buffaloes have trampled me a few times counts as better, then yes," I reply in a teasing manner. She grins.
"Well if you're feeling good enough to snark at me, you're progressing finely."
I return the smile. "I think there's something wrong with the IV in my hand there, though."
Her brows knit and she immediately bends over my left hand, minutely examining it as only a trained nurse can.
"What's wrong with your hand?" she asks after inspecting it. "Nothing's out of place, and there's no-"
I cut her off by placing my hand in hers. "It's missing yours."
She's surprised for only a second, but then she squeezes my hand gently. "You're a smooth operator, aren't you?"
"I try."
She laughs softly. "So, Mr. Slick-With-The-Ladies, tell me a secret."
"You're bold, aren't you?"
"Nicely played. Okay, I'll go first. I am deathly afraid of..." her voice lowers conspiratorially. "...jellyfish."
I hold back a laugh, exhaling quietly instead. "Okay...um...Sometimes I eat my oreos backwards, you know, cream filling then cookie."
She gasps. "You do not!"
I nod cheekily. "Do too."
"Well, sometimes I steal all the leftover cheesecake Pepper hides in the freezer and keep it in my room to eat later. Especially right after my Sweet 16. I fed for weeks."
I chuckle. "Well, my 16th birthday was kind of a disaster. Uncle Steve and Thor got drunk and we stayed at the restaurant till one in the morning because Uncle Steve had the keys."
She pats my hand sympathetically. "Aww, it's okay." Then, in keeping with the more serious turn the conversation has taken, she shares something I hadn't expected.
"My biggest fear...is being left alone," she says, her eyes wide and bright in the moonlight that has found its way into Room 200. I solemnly nod, not wanting to interrupt whatever is going on here.
"My biggest fear is being left alone, too," I say softly.
"No way," the answer comes very quietly. I hold her hand a little tighter.
"Don't worry," I say, trying to comfort her. "we can not be alone together."
She gives me a small but genuine smile. We stay like that for a while, talking back and forth about anything less serious than fears. It's amazing, really, how long I'm able to stay awake. But when my eyelids finally start to drop, she nods understandingly, gives my hand a small squeeze, and gets up to go to her cot. I go to sleep smiling, knowing she's there if anything decides to happen during the night.
I am woken up by the sound of footsteps crossing the room at a run and a pitiful groan. I am awake immediately, whipping my head around to see Ace sitting up in bed holding her stomach. Alex grabs something from the floor and holds it in front of her face. Just in time too- my poor teammate heaves and empties her stomach into the bucket. Alex just sits there, patting her shoulder as she starts dry heaving. Once she's done Alex takes the bucket out of the room, holding it gingerly. Ace moans and flops back down on her bed, both arms wound tightly around her stomach. I guess her previous lunch had come back to haunt her. It is really her fault for taking it when she was feeling sick. I get the feeling she really took it to spite Alex.
"So, my queen," I begin insolently. "Pray tell your humble servant how such a grievous malady could have befallen Your Highness?"
All I hear in response is a string of angry Russian that sounds suspiciously like a death threat. Somehow it's much less effective muttered through a hospital bedsheet.