Hi, late again, sorry... December was a rough month, plus I had trouble uploading this chapter, even if I tried a couple of times during the last few weeks. I hope now it will be okay. Anyway, at least the chapter is quite long, considering my average length. Plus, this time it is betaed, and I really thank GetGinxed for that! I hope you'll like it.
As for my book, it came out more than a month ago, thank you so much for your support! For now it's only the Italian version. I'm still working on the idea of an English translation, though, maybe for the future. Anyway, thank you for your comments and for your interest in what I'm writing! I hope you all spent an amazing Christmas, for those who celebrate it, and I wish you a late happy New Year!
TsundereTwin: Thank you! The publication happened, so I'm glad an waiting to know the long-term results. As for our favorite god, Loki will be very much up and prone to spend some time with his mortal, just read the chapter ;) Glad you liked my chapter!
xxDustNight88: Thank you so much! This chapter is quite long and focuses a lot on Bruce and Pepper, but the second part will have some FrostIron in it ;)
Teska: Thank you so much, you're too kind! Glad you liked the last chapter! Yes, now Pepper (and Bruce) understands why Tony's been acting that way, fact is, she understood more than he would have expected, which complicates things a great deal. Hope you'll like this update.
purplepintopaint: Sorry for the delay, but thank you so much for such kind comment! I'm really glad you're enjoying my FrostIron.
Guest: Really? OMG, thank you so much, I'm so flattered! I hope you'll be able to understand it, despite it being in Italian language. And of course, which details do you want to know?
Chapter 24: Something untold
She wasn't jealous.
It was what Pepper had been repeating inside her mind like a mantra that would allow her to keep her grip on reality and to push away the tears threatening to violate her eyes and her composure.
She wasn't.
If it had been someone else, anyone else, she would have felt a stab to her heart, due to the memory of an old love that had left its scar on her, because she was human, after all. And she couldn't always control her emotions, even when her mind knew what the right answer would be. But she would have never felt such despair . It seemed like an abyss had swallowed her whole, since she had realized who the person that had gained Tony's affection—the murderer, the enemy, the threat—was.
It was an awareness that had grown inside her little by little, word after word, with his friend's absurd desire of protecting the man who had almost destroyed New York and with the strangely amused note that echoed in his voice when he mentioned him. And then, the definitive proof: there had been the moment when Jarvis had showed Bruce and her what was happening inside that room after a crazier than usual Loki had been trying to kill himself; and she had felt like an intruder, spying on a moment of intimacy that shouldn't even have existed in the first place.
It had been Tony's attempt to brush against the god's cheek what made her fall apart. In that gesture, she had recognized more than Tony, more than even Bruce would be able to grasp. Tony did not touch someone like that, with such care and that vulnerable gaze. He did not, unless there hadn't been feelings involved.
Now, his friend had gone resting for a few hours, after the tension, the anguish and the fights of the night before and that morning, and Pepper hadn't had the courage to ask him on which bed he would sleep. She should have done the same, but still she wasn't able to enter the solitude of her room, at least not until the anguish was still biting her chest. Bruce had to think the same, because he was still there, or maybe he didn't want to leave her alone in the kitchen.
She tried to relax her tense muscles, but all her body was quivering for the need to seek his reassurance, his solid support, a connection that would give her comfort and an anchor to a whole world that seemed to have turned upside down. First there had been Tony's kidnapping and the too long days of dread and fear, when she had struggled to bear everything, to be the unshakable defense of the Stark Industries, to face the government and even Fury; then Tony's rescue and his return as the mere shadow of the friend she had never stopped loving. And now, that last realization…
Loki.
She bit her lower lip, but she would never allow herself to crumble, not until she would be alone. She looked up, meeting Bruce's gaze, searching for a friendly expression and maybe for an assurance that would let her regain her self-control.
"What should we do now?"
Bruce passed one hand on his face, his fingers tightening around the leg of his glasses like he wanted to take them off, his habit when he got asked for his opinion on something unpleasant or problematic. He stopped midway, though, and his caring eyes didn't escape hers.
"I don't know." He sighed, as his hand fell motionless at his side. "I think Loki shouldn't be a threat, for now. As for the rest, I guess we should decide all together what to..."
"I know you saw it." Pepper hadn't been able to hold back, like sharing that awareness, making it more real by saying it out loud, would somehow lessen its sharp bitterness. "And you heard him. How Tony speaks of him, the way he looks at him..."
He looks at him like he used to look at me.
She swallowed with difficulty, fighting against the wetness that threatened to spill from her eyes. She focused on Bruce's face, instead, his gaze warm and worried, always with that kindness even as he showed the marks of exhaustion and a dangerous tension around it.
"He spent whole weeks with Loki, Pepper."
"Do you think it's possible he's been somehow manipulated?" She asked it because she needed to, wishing with all her might for a reassuring lie. But she didn't truly believe her own words, not after what Tony had told them.
"I don't..." Bruce started, then he averted his gaze. "Loki surely manipulated him, but I don't think Tony is a victim of a spell, or of a trauma due to his time in captivity." He cleared his throat, while his eyes wandered on the wall, on the counter, on the table, until they stopped on her forehead.
"There's some logic in what he suggested. Loki can be a good addition to the team, in the upcoming war. He won't be trustworthy, but having an alien god who can use magic by our side would truly be convenient."
"That's not the problem."
It wouldn't be even if it was just flirting, or mere physical attraction, because Tony had slept with so many different women and men without feeling anything more than a fleeting interest, which often had been forgotten in a couple of hours or even less.
"I know." This time, Bruce's fingers didn't reach for his glasses, but went to rub his tired eyes.
The silence filled the air between them, a background too grim for the thoughts that Pepper felt swirling in her head.
"We must convince Tony to tell the others," she murmured, after realizing that Bruce wouldn't speak again. Warning the team behind Tony's back would only result in him becoming even more detached, distancing himself further, from her, from all of them. Pepper wished she would never have to come to that.
"You're right. The more we wait, the worse it will be. Once Tony wakes up, we'll talk about it."
Pepper nodded.
"Maybe we, too, should rest for a while," she suggested, even if she didn't move.
She saw Bruce's hand reaching for her, and for a moment she almost felt its touch on her shoulder, its reassuring, familiar warmth; but then Bruce let his hand fall at his side without even brushing at her.
"How are you feeling?" he asked her instead.
Pepper sent him the shadow of a smile.
"I'm not in love with Tony anymore."
The surprise that filled Bruce's eyes was as clear as day even through his glasses.
"No... I mean... it wasn't what I was asking."
Pepper softened her expression, her smile becoming less strained, more open, while she struggled to hide the sadness that had formed a knot in her throat and filled her mouth of the bitter taste of tears.
"I'll always love him though." Her lips trembled, then they returned a tight line devoid of any joy. "And I can't stand to watch while he destroys and endangers himself, not like this."
"I understand."
They both lowered their gazes, while the silence crawled back to fill the whole room. There was a different kind of turmoil than the one regarding Tony now. It was like that one kiss had returned to weight on them, invading their thoughts with sudden inexorability. Pepper could read it in Bruce's eyes.
She could seek shelter and comfort in his arms, allowing herself to forget all her worries and hurt with simple human warmth, with the affection she needed, but it wasn't fair, neither for Bruce, nor for her.
Bruce shouldn't only be a support to not give in to desperation.
She had always considered him a friendly presence, the Avenger with whom she had bonded the most and whom she felt the closest, aside from Tony; then the fondness she felt for that doctor, who had come tip toeing in others people's lives, and to behave like he had to apologize for simply being there, had evolved into something deeper, until it had become something more difficult to define. She had realized it when S.H.I.E.L.D. had trapped Bruce, and later, when seeing him so vulnerable while he was still suffering from whatever drugs they had pumped into his veins had hit her too deeply.
She struggled to swallow, to not think of how comforting it would to be for both of them to search for a hug that would maybe bring them to spend the night together. She wouldn't allow to have the fear and the anguish guide such a decision.
"How are you?" she asked, attempting to smile. "After what happened, you should receive a medal for being able to keep your calm. You're the only one among the three of us that was able to remain in control of yourself."
"I guess the Other Guy was as surprised as I was." Bruce curved his lips, without managing to completely hide his awkwardness. "Now I would gladly sleep for a few hours, though."
"I think we deserve it."
Another moment of deafening silence.
"So, have a good rest, Pepper."
He had just turned his back to leave the kitchen when her hand moved like it possessed its own mind.
"Bruce..." Pepper grabbed his wrist and felt him shiver against her fingers, but not to escape from her grip. She, too, would have wanted to make that contact deeper, to go closer to him, a temptation that she drove away, tightening her lips, and letting his arm go as soon as Bruce's eyes met her own. "You know it will be hard to tell the other Avengers, right? I don't mean everything, but that Loki is here."
"I know. We should find a way to tell them and avoid the worst."
Thor would accept the news without problems, even more, he would be thrilled, Pepper was sure about it. Steve would listen before doing anything impulsive, giving them the possibility to convince him that a truce with their old enemy was possible and maybe useful. But then there was Natasha: who represented an enigma that no one was able to solve, not even the people belonging to her world of spies. And, above all, there was Clint, who had just become an ally, whose hatred towards Loki would maybe make him a pawn in S.H.I.E.L.D. hands again.
Pepper bit down on her inner cheek, fighting against the doubts that threatened to take over her mind.
"What could we do?"
She should be the one with an answer, she, who was Tony's right hand, the CEO of Stark Industries and the woman who was used to solve every single problem that crossed his friend's path; but the pain tormenting her chest, that had accompanied the last conversations with Tony and that had worsened after what Jarvis had showed her, had sapped her of all her energy.
Bruce's eyes met her own, they were clear, despite the exhaustion and the tight line of his mouth. He wasn't even showing a hint of that dangerous rage that lived with him, only a determination that gave her an unexpected comfort.
"We should try to understand what Loki's intentions are. And then, do our better to protect Tony."
There was someone next to him.
A warm sensation, a familiar smell that didn't awaken threat or danger, not even now that he was so vulnerable and wounded. When he opened his eyes, fighting to shatter the veil of weakness that surrounded him, he wasn't truly surprised when he recognized the unfocused shape of his mortal. Stark was enveloped in several layers of blankets and clothes, in the sharpest proof that the monster living inside his skin was still in the open, for everyone to see; but he was there, at his side, unmistakable in his appearance and even in his light snoring.
Loki blinked, breathing deeply only to awaken the painful agony in his lungs again, a sensation that had never truly disappeared, not even while he was sleeping. But it had lessened, now. It was almost bearable. The source of magic pulsing inside his hand crawled along his wrist and arm, soothing the worst of his suffering and giving him a cautious breath back. When he managed to put his surroundings into focus, it was a familiar place that greeted him, while his thoughts were still wildly whirling inside his head.
He was safe, in the tower of Midgard where he had been spending more time than he would have liked to admit. First, spying on what his former enemies were planning to face the one who could not be defeated, and then fucking the mortal who had claimed his mind.
Next to him, laid Stark.
They had slept in the same bed.
It wasn't the first time such an occurrence has happened. A flash of memories hit him: Stark sleeping on the floor, the clinking of his chains, the smell of his fear, and the rattled starts due to his nightmares; but that had happened before , when the mortal wasn't speaking, when he was just a broken puppet whose death wouldn't grant him any satisfaction. Then, something had changed, in his mortal, but in himself too. He remembered when he had woken up feeling his warmth a few inches from his own body, the first time they had shared the bed like it had been a spell to send away the worst shadows populating the night; then there had been another night together, and another, until the thought that had hit him, after he had woken up with his eyes focused on the mortal, had been a realization as terrifying as it was true.
He averted his eyes, not looking at Stark's messy hair and peaceful features anymore.
It still burned from within, deeper and more fierce than Thanos' torture, somehow; the realization that Stark was important to him like nothing had ever been since the day he had discovered the monster beneath his skin; like he had never considered anyone else, aside from Frigga.
He reached for his throat, which was left half bare by that ridiculous sweater the mortal wore. Trying to ignore the blue staining his skin as the proof of his cursed heritage, he looked down to his face, noticing the exhaustion still showing on his features and the peaceful expression while he was sleeping next to him, a monster.
Just a kill, a flick of his fingers, and the weakness hurting his eyes would be gone forever. He would lose part of him, with it, he knew it, but it would make him stronger.
Stark had taken care of him, tried to heal him, he had looked at him with worried eyes instead of horror.
His fingers trembled, and the pain in his burnt lungs that tortured him at every breath was nothing in comparison to the internal fight tearing him apart from the inside.
"I ask you to desist, or I will be forced to alert Doctor Banner and Miss Potts."
Loki would have startled, if only he hadn't been used to hide his surprise. He tensed, without pulling back, but without doing the last gesture that was tempting and tormenting him at the same time. He didn't need to look around to know who had spoken.
"You are Stark's creation."
"My name is Jarvis, I am the artificial intelligence who manages the tower and protects Mr. Stark's wellbeing."
That last word carried a tangible warning. With his lips curving into a grimace, Loki lied down on his back again, finding himself facing an annoying hint of relief, born somewhere in his damaged chest.
"I thank you for your cooperation." The voice used by the mortal's creation now sounded less hostile. "How may I call you?"
"Stark did not tell you my name?"
"Of course, I am aware of your name and your identity. But Mr. Stark wanted me to use the epithet of 'Reindeer Games' and I suppose this is not the rightful situation."
Always arrogant, that mortal of his.
"You can call me Loki."
"As you wish."
In the silence that followed that comment, Loki began checking his body. His magic was terribly low, because he still hadn't recovered enough to collect some of it. He even found it difficult to use the Tesseract shard, as greater proof of how weak he was. And yet, his lungs were slowly healing, his body wasn't about to shut off anymore, his death was becoming further and further away from him at each passing minute. If he could eat and rest, he would be able to recover in a few days.
But first…
He strengthened the grip on the Tesseract shard that had allowed him to stay alive and focused to use that source of energy, willing his body to be purified from that unacceptable shape.
"I must warn you that at the first sign of hostility, I will be forced to call Doctor Banner. And in case of self-destructive behavior, I'll have to wake up Mr. Stark." The intangible voice paused, giving him the impression it was human. "I would rather not do that. During the last few days he slept an insufficient amount of hours."
"I have no intentions of attacking someone. For now." He wondered if he should feel horrified for that invisible servant that was seeing his true appearance, even if it wasn't a living being, someone in flesh and blood, or someone born out of magic. "But I shall not remain in such state."
Calling for the energy of the shard in his hand, he focused to regain the aspect that had originated the lie with which he had been living for centuries. The effort made him cringe, while white hot agony assaulted his nerves, and a rivulet of blood stained the edge of his mouth and his chin before he could prevent it. But it was nothing in comparison to what he had already suffered. He lied there, struggling to use his magic for what seemed like an eternity, frustration growing inside him, now that it took so much pain, so much effort to do something that should have been natural; finally, as he was about to give up, he felt the cold retreating, and the illusion of an Asgardian covering his skin, inch after inch. With his fingers curled so tight around the Tesseract shard that it almost broke his skin, he waited until he was sure that his spell had erased even the tiniest trace of that blue on his body, before loosening his grip on that magic.
When he opened his eyes, with his breath almost back to a normal sound, not that broken wheeze carrying pain and exhaustion, the monster had disappeared under his skin again.
He had just relaxed when the mortal net to him stretched, mumbling something impossible to understand, and then opened his eyes. In them, Loki found surprise, confusion, and then an emotion so deep and clear that hit him in the same place where he had felt relief, when the invisible servant had stopped him.
Then Stark must have remembered what had happened, because a smile formed on his lips.
"Good day to you, Reindeer Games. Have you finished with your suicidal impulses?" His eyes stared at him, from head to chest, then he frowned. "It seems not. Haven't you listened to a thing of what I said? To accept yourself, to realize that it's not your appearance what makes you a monster, to not trust the racist people who raised you with the fucked up idea of valuing someone's worth depending on their race? And don't even get me started on that moment of deep empathy, when I opened my heart to you, and you know how possessive I am with that part of my body."
For some reason, the way the mortal was comparing himself to him bothered Loki.
"You did not discover you were a monster."
"Merchant of Death, ring any bells? It's just that no one made me believe that. No one important, at least."
Loki narrowed his eyes, rage and bile raising through his throat and covering the taste of blood.
"You do not understand."
Stark didn't know what being part of the most hated race of the Nine Realms meant, he didn't know what he had felt when he had seen that blue contaminating his skin, when he had turned to the man who he thought to be his father, looking for some comfort, and instead he had only received a condemnation.
"So, since I don't understand, you shouldn't have any problems showing me your true appearance, right?" When Loki couldn't find a scathing reply fast enough, that annoying challenging stare in Stark's face was replaced by something darker. "Besides, I know one thing at least, that people who judge others from their appearance are the worst scum."
Loki sent him a grimace, fighting to not take his too comforting, but wrong, words into consideration.
"You are only a mortal."
"And you're a divine heap of issues, stubbornness and sex-appeal, but I like you anyway. Now, would you please lie still without using your magic, at least until you recover a little, so that you won't destroy our efforts? We managed to keep you alive until now, it would be a shame if you ruined everything."
That comment made him momentarily forget about his irritation.
"We?"
"Pepper, Bruce, and I. We're all nice people who don't have problems with the color of your skin."
The woman and the beast.
He remembered some flashes of those two mortals, blurred images while the pain was confusing his thoughts and senses.
And Stark... he had been the one to save him.
He had recruited his friends to save his life and he was there, on his same bed, next to him. He had slept by his side, instead of sleeping with his companions, and he still was in his company, like he was putting him first. It was something totally unexpected, after a whole life spent being always second, always coming after Thor.
The need to destroy and possess, to claim him as his in the most immediate way, engulfed him like a fire.
Struggling, with a body still too hurt to move without feeling pain, he lifted up on one elbow, meeting the mortal's gaze and his arched brow, which was likely anticipating a question that still hadn't passed through his lips, and the hint of worry inside his eyes, something which made his stomach clench in a way Loki still had to completely understand. Then, before allowing the mortal to talk, he descended to claim his lips.