XIII

Steve Rogers scanned his surroundings. He no longer cared if he was in plain view, no barricade shielding him. Just a few of his men were still standing, the bodies of the others littering the street. Except for Clint's. And Banner's. Steve hoped they were still alive. He had finally convinced Thor to leave by telling him to go pickpocket someone. They may need the money for later... if there was a "later".
A soldier took a step forward from his ranks, and began reading from a piece of paper, probably a message, "Message from Monsieur Leopold, mayor of this town-"
"Who coincidentally is not here," someone yelled.
"But he obviously is /not/ scared," another revolutionary sarcastically added.
"-chosen by Your Majesty, the king, himself. We recognize your decrease in number; therefore, we give you the chance to withdraw before more blood is shed."
Angry shouts rose from the barricade. Steve raised his hand to shush his comrades. "We will fight until the last man is down! Others will continue in our place, now or in the future, and someday we will be free!"
"On your head be it." The soldier raised his rifle and the others followed him. The agonizing screams of dying revolutionaries filled the air.
Steve looked at the man on his right. "Coulson?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Pleasure fighting by your side."
"Same, sir."
Steve picked up a blood stained French flag and raised it over his head. He closed his eyes, the wind flapping his blonde hair. Steve didn't even give his enemies the pleasure of a wince when he felt the dull pain of metal piercing his chest.

Bruce trudged through the muddy floor of the sewers (he knew it wasn't mud, but he preferred to think it was). Clint's body was slung over his shoulder. Bruce /was/ going to bring him home, he /was/ going to take him with his 'Tasha, they /were/ going to live happily ever after.
He looked back and immediately wished he hadn't. The horribly familiar slender figure blocked the little light coming from the entrance of the tunnel. A younger figure sat on the railing next to him, his legs swinging merrily.
Clint's weight was starting to hurt Bruce's shoulder. "Oh great, the Odinsons," he muttered.
Loki cast a glance at his brother an indifferent look. "No," he corrected dryly, "one Odinson, one /Laufeyson/. Which reminds me, Thor, what /are/ you doing here?"
"Laufey? Should have guessed," Thor said, his voice calm as if he just found out some useless gossip. "As for what I'm doing here, these tunnels connect several hotspots in the city. I use 'em to go 'round pickpocketing without getting caught." He raised a pair of gold earring to emphasize his point. "I'm taking this to Stark later. He'll give me a fair price for 'em."
Bruce bit his lip, deciding to hold back the truth from the young boy.
"I'll pretend I did not hear that because I have more important matters to attend," Loki grumbled, turning back to Bruce. "Last time I saw you, you were running for mayor, and you were considered a 'fair and kind' citizen. The time before that, you were taking an orphan girl under your wing. Am I right?" Bruce nodded. "Is it only me, or are you /pretending/ to be human to hide the fact that you are truly a beast?"
Bruce tensed, "Loki, save your grudges for later. This boy- he is innocent and needs a doctor!"
"Should I care?" Loki paused and pretended to ponder. "Hmm... No, no I don't."
"Loki..." Bruce was starting to lose control, and that would /not/ be pretty.
"Someone's getting... green with rage," the Inspector smiled at his own joke.
"Isn't it 'green with jealousy'?" Thor asked.
"Pest, mind your own business," Loki grumbled, but his smile soon returned. "As for you, there is nowhere to run."
Okay, "about to lose control" was totally one minute ago. Careful not to drop Clint, Bruce shoved Loki against the tunnel wall. Hard. Blood trickled down the man's pale neck as he stumbled to the ground. Bruce voice was a gruff growl when he spoke, "Can't you for once- for /one/ single time- put a life before duty?! Can't you?!" He felt something in his hand realized he had unconsciously picked up a rusty piece of metal, sharp enough to be used as a knife...
"Do it," Loki urged, his voice a mere whisper, "kill me. Prove that you are nothing but a wild beast."
Bruce hesitated. He could. He could do it and be free. "No." The knife slipped from his grasp. "I won't. I'm not him... I'm not the Other Guy."
Loki's eyes opened in surprise but then quickly became a suspicious sneer. "If this is some sort of trickery..."
Bruce shook his head, "That's your area, isn't it?"
"But if you think this will stop me from trying to put you behind bars, you are wrong."
"I know, but I'm no murderer." He stretched his hand towards the bleeding man on the floor, inviting him to take it. The Inspector took it slowly. After Loki was back on his feet, Bruce showed him his hands, ready for a new pair of manacles. "And I hope someday you understand that I'm not a criminal either."
Loki looked at the man's bare, vulnerable wrists. Bright red scars peeked under his sleeves. "Go," Loki said so softly only he heard it. "Go," he repeated, louder this time. It was Bruce's turn to look astonished. "You heard me. Just go."
Loki seemed ashamed by his decision, but Bruce took his chance anyway. He began walking tiredly towards another exit, expecting Loki to lunge at him when his back was turned, but the Inspector did not move.
Soon enough, Bruce reached the tunnel end that, as he had memorized, led to the town's hospital. He half dragged Clint the last few feet. The nuns here owed him a favor, so he could ask them not to tell anyone it was he had brought the revolutionary here. He didn't want Natasha worrying for him, or another soldier to join the dots and become the new Loki.
"Sisters," he panted when he walked through the door. A young nun spotted him and ran to his aid.
"Oh dear god, monsieur. Sister Madeleine! Sister Madeline!"
Bruce knew Sister Madeline. And Sister Madeline knew him.
"Oh, Bruce, you shouldn't be here. Loki is the new Inspector and I think he suspects-" the nun said as she led him to an empty bed.
Bruce chuckled, "Believe me, I know." He placed Clint carefully on the bed.
"Who is he?" Sister Madeline asked.
"An acquaintance," the man answered plainly. "An acquaintance that cannot know I brought him here. No one can." The nun nodded.
The two of them walked away from the bed when nuns started bustling around, bringing bandages and pain killers. "He is in good hands," Sister Madeline assured.
"Sister?"
"Yes, dear?"
"Do you think I can send an urgent message to the train station?"
"Anything for you, dear. Use the telegraph."

***********
"Papa, are you alright?!" Natasha Romanoff exclaimed when she arrived at the hospital. "They told me I was needed at the hospital."

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Bruce answered. "But it is not me you should be worrying about," he added, nodding towards Clint. The teen was awake now, although a bit drowsy, and a nun was asking some questions.

The red hair ran to the bedside, cupping his cheek with a pale hand. "'Tasha," Clint whispered, the nun and the questions forgotten. Natasha barely noted that his free hand grabbed something in his bedside table before holding her hand. The girl soon felt the cold metal biting at her skin and opened her hand. Inside laid a simple gold ring with a bright red crystal perched on top. "I asked the Sisters to get it for me," Clint managed to say before Natasha kissed him.

As soon as Banner was out of sight, Loki glared at his brother. There was something different in his eyes, but Thor couldn't put his finger on what was wrong. "Go home, Mother must be worried," the Inspector ordered, his voice definitely weaker.

"Where are you going?" Thor asked, the higher pitch in his voice obviously due to weariness, not worry. Definitely not worry.

"Rivoli Bridge, just for a walk. Don't tell Frigga. "

"Okay. Sure, bro-," Thor stopped himself, "Inspector."

Loki trudged towards the exit, but stopped. "Thor?"

The little blonde looked at him in disbelief as the soldier carefully unpinned a star shaped golden medal from his jacket and handed it to Thor. "You deserve it," Loki said before walking on.

Thor arrived home a while later, ignoring everything around him except for the shimmering medal.

"You were very brave," a shy voice said to his right before he reached his front door. The brunette girl was standing a few feet away.

"Not as much as you, mademoiselle," Thor answered politely.

The brunette leaned over and gave him a quick peck in the cheek. "Joan," she whispered. "'Mademoiselle' is too fancy."

"Thor!" a sweet voice called.

"Mother's calling," Thor said before kissing the girl's hand and entering his house.

Frigga was indeed waiting for him. She ruffled his golden hair when he walked in an asked, "Where's Loki?"

"No idea," Thor lied.

"Hm, I hope he arrives before dinner," Frigga muttered. Thor was distractedly walking towards his room, but Frigga touched his shoulder kindly. "Just a second, young man. Sleipnir needs brushing and a fresh pack of hey."

"Sure, Mother," Thor muttered, changing his course and walking towards Odin's stables. He must be holding the medal too tightly because tears were starting to form in his eyes. It was either the medal or something else…