disclaimer: i do not own marvel
Prepare to have feels
Chapter 29
It was uninhibited rage and bursts of anger that released the Hulk, turning Bruce Banner into a green behemoth, but it was calm calculated fury that brought out the monster in Loki. The only difference seemed to be the control he maintained. No matter how much spite and rage swirled within the trickster, he was not blinded. In fact, he saw things with crystal clarity. It wasn't his angered state that brought forth the cerulean image of his real self that Loki so despised. It was a desperate feeling within him, one that cared for another's well-being and safety. For even if his boiling temper calmed, his skin would remain frigid and blue.
The only benefit Loki saw in this effect was that he could yet again wield power, though it was admittedly a different kind of magic then before. He did not turn into a mindless beast whose primary concern was to tear up the world around him to tiny bits and pieces. Neither was he weak and human, a fact he greatly appreciated, even if meant dealing with his Jotun side. He would gladly embrace it for the moment. His utmost concern was to get Anthony to safety, even if it meant reverting to his natural form. If these powers could do so, he would ponder the implications of his birthright at a later time.
Loki entered the tunnels slowly, hesitant about his new-found skills but eager to test his icy talents. One thing he discovered was the reason why the ice giants dressed as simply as they did. Clothing was an unwanted obstruction, freezing around him and hindering his otherwise fluid movements. He sacrificed his clothing, tearing his trousers until they were short enough to his liking, the elegant dress shirt discarded along the way.
He moved swiftly, but with silence, the skills learned through the ages and his nimble body helping him. Each step taken it was as if he was rediscovering magic, learning new things with every heartbeat: the small stream of mucky water he traversed would slowly freeze if he stopped moving and the moisture on the walls would ice at a touch if he willed it. As he moved further into the tunnels, Loki focused on advancing and further developing the finer weavings of his inherent magic. Though he was uncomfortable with their origin, they were certainly to be used to his advantage at present.
As his core temperature cooled, the area around him grew colder. If he so willed it, a drop of water could be turned into an ice crystal with ease, a speck of unique perfection in the palm of his hand. He traced the slippery wet surface of the putrid stream beneath him and with Jotun talent, bent the water to his will. The result of this endeavour was a small dagger, sharp as glass, a useful thing in skilled hands. With a nimble twist, Loki twirled the weapon between his fingers, an ability honed by years of experience. His eyes gleamed with a predator's edge - his hands were exceptionally skilled.
Though he wanted to hate his inherent Jotun abilities, Loki found them useful now that he had no magic at his disposal. His large, red pupils captured the barest sliver of light in the darkness. Any reflection was highlighted and thus he could make out a variety of details in the shapes around him. He knew that the cold of his body would shield him from a Chitauri's vision in the darkness of the tunnels, something he failed to recollect during his moment of distress in the tower.
Anthony would remind him that it was human to forget, that he should not let it bother him. As a god, Loki never simply forgot to mention anything, he only hid facts under a blanket of carefully placed words. His hands clutched the dagger tightly. He should have known better. This sting in his heart was of his own making. Had he not been so distressed that his mind failed him, perhaps Anthony's fall into the sharp claws of the Chitauri could have been avoided. A Chitauri's senses worked differently from that of humans, their eyes did not see colours and the dark was no deterrent. They relied on body heat to distinguish friend from foe, particularly in the dark of this underground lair. It had been a grave error in judgment.
These slips of the mind should not be my point of focus!
Scowling, Loki berated himself for dwelling in the past and events he could not change. He stilled his movements as the detritus littering the tunnels changed subtly. Here and there, scattered around and evident for those who knew the signs to seek, was the evidence that several Chitauri had crawled along these walls. There was not enough debris for the hive's centre to be near this location, but Loki knew they could still pose a significant problem if met in direct confrontation.
Loki's style of fighting was swift, elegant, using the elongated strikes of a spear to keep enemies at bay or the vicious precision of dagger. His ability to wield magic and his accuracy with thrown weapons helped keep his opponents from moving closer. He disliked close combat, but was capable of it nonethless. He would twist and turn in easy evasion, ducking under blows and finding soft spots to exploit. This confining space would leave him with little option for his preferred fighting style, however. His lips curled in a feral grin, pearly white canines showing. No enemies would hinder him from retrieving what was rightfully his.
Thankfully, his sense of smell still seemed to be the same in his Jotun form as his more human form. The putrid stench lingering in the damp underground roads would put a damper on anyone's olfactory organs. Loki's hearing though appeared to be improved. He had always had the ability to pick out the finer details of hidden conversations. A skill that proved to be exceptionally useful to him now as Loki heard hushed human whispers coming from not too far away.
It was a hushed husky tone he would never forget even if he tried. Anthony. The engineer was speaking in a calm, but warning manner. Loki's greatest fear - finding only bloody parts of the man in the tunnels - was lifted; instant relief washed over him. He felt a tightness leave his chest and the pressing weight on his heart faded, only to be replaced by adrenaline and determination instead of dread. Loki knew the hardest part was yet to come, especially if there were others with Anthony.
He carried on, watchful and wary. The further he went, the more he noticed damage to the environment. This must have been the spot where Stark's transmission was lost. A torn piece of red metal on the ground confirmed his assumptions, but it was the red streak on the floor that made him fall back in dread. Anthony had been wounded and dragged off roughly. Loki followed the trail silently, nothing more than a shadow or trick of the mind to the naked eye.
At a crossing, Loki stopped in his tracks, curiously indecisive. Initially, he wanted to continue forward as a trail of scratch marks headed straight ahead, further into the deep. Yet every instinct he had told the trickster to turn left onto a smaller inconspicuous road, one he had nearly had missed. Loki firmly believed that one should always follow base instinct when it decided to nudge actions in a particular direction. He could just barely discern a deep sigh in the darkness ahead of him. Moving closer, he could vaguely see the blurry outlining of three human bodies.
Loki knelt down on his knees next to Anthony, who was still feigning sleep or unconsciousness badly, for he heard Anthony's rapid breathing all too clearly. The eccentric genius shivered slightly, likely due to Loki's proximity in Jotun form, and his breath frosted the air. With an eyebrow raised in curiosity, Anthony opened tired eyes and stared straight at him through the darkness. A strange emotion flowed over Loki that moment, something pure and precious, as the engineer still managed to smile brightly at him even when wounded.
"Lo..."
"Fool," Loki said softly, his fingertips caressing Anthony's cheek. It genuinely surprised him to hear the kindness in his voice. Carefully, he removed the plate covering the arc reactor and blue light lit the small, damp enclosure. Loki's monstrous appearance made the two homeless men gasp, but Anthony made a small motion with his hand to indicate everything was okay.
"Silence, all of you," Loki whispered, voice stern. He was sure even the formidable Pepper Potts would have reconsidered talking back to the man with a tone like that in his voice. Still, it was a surprise they listened, especially Anthony. Under normal circumstances, the genius would have objected and responded with sass. It was worrying that he remained so quiet, even under such circumstances. Loki refused to admit that he was frightened by this, but had he been able, he would have conjured a spell to inspect him for physical damage, applying healing magic if needed. Without that magic, he could only rely on his wits and Frost Giant abilities. Loki hoped the Norns would favor him this once and grant him the time he needed.
Loki held their attention as he continued speaking in a barely audible whisper. "Firstly, I will unbind you all. Secondly, you will all hold still and refrain from running or creating unnecessary noises. It will only get you killed. Thirdly, I cannot get you out of here simultaneously; only one by one can I help you reach safer perimeters." He paused, glancing at the men who had once given him shelter and the man who did the same now. "Not far from here, there is a ladder going up one level. I calculated that the other Avengers will come through that pass. I will help you reach it and they will take you to safety from there."
"Get them out first," Tony insisted, trying to hide the grimace of pain behind stoicism.
Loki went still as he fought his frustration. Anthony's words reflected distress and he spoke as if breathing was difficult and painful. Resolve burned deeply in those warm brown eyes, however, letting Loki know that disagreement would result in a loud argument, an argument and a volume they could not afford. Loki knew this was what caring for others did, it made a person weak. Anthony had already proven he would sacrifice himself it meant the safety of others. He was reluctant to leave the injured man, knowing the possibilities.
The genius saw the hestitation in Loki's crimson eyes and said, "It'll be fine. I'll manage until the rest get here."
Loki gave a short nod of agreement. He struggled against the burn of worry slowly enveloping him with what could happen when he left the engineer. But now was not the time to fret. He needed to move the men as quickly and silently as their feet could carry them. Loki studied the bindings of the group: a small sturdy metal chain was set around each of their feet and no opening or lock could be seen. If there had been, Loki supposed that Anthony's would already have been removed. Not knowing if it would work, but confident in his new found skills, the trickster set out to release the three men from their bounds.
"Stay still," he warned. By sheer force of will, Loki concentrated the cold in his hand, hoping to reach a temperature cold enough to burn. Jack "Daniels," a friend of Bob's, hissed in surprise at the freezing temperature so close to his body. Thankfully, the man stayed still or his ankle would have blackened with frostbite. Under Loki's touch, the metal started to crumble slowly, tiny cracks forming until there was a hole big enough to remove it. Though his heritage was proving to be quite useful in this situation, the feel of this cold living magic within him was still unwanted. However, Loki once again held magic within his grasp. That was what mattered now.
The other two shackles fell more easily, his control and aim improved with each focused exertion. As quietly as the exhausted and obviously-undernourished man could manage, Jack stood. His legs were weak but steady as he held himself upright for the first time in days. "Stay close," Loki whispered. He had calculated that the aura of cold that surrounded him would lower human body temperature if in close proximity. It would throw off or disrupt the Chitauri's vision if they came face to face with them, but it would likely cause hypothermia as well. It was a chance they would have to risk.
Jack followed Loki meekly, the cold aura hampering his already emaciated form. He never made a sound and stayed no further away from Loki than a few footsteps. When they were around the corner, Loki chilled the air surrounding his "acquaintance" further, frost grabbing Jack's clothing as the edges slowly froze. It was too cold for a human to bear for long, but all Loki needed was the chill cloak of safety covering both of them for a little longer. The homeless man would have to endure the temperature. Hypothermia was a far better fate than falling prey to the cruel claws of the Chitauri.
Loki had to admit that even in this cold, dark underground, faced with despair and a hopeless end, humans appeared to keep their faith. Even now, Jack followed him without complaint. This person had chosen to simply to trust him and in doing so, placed all hope for a future in Loki's hands. He did so without question. This sense of believing the impossible possible, of trusting his life so willingly, reminded him strongly of Thor. He would smile proudly if he saw this, his little "brother" aiding humans. Loki frowned as they continued along the path toward freedom. Worse yet, Loki was doing this act of kindness of his own volition. Thor would have been pleased and gloating over how he knew Loki had a good heart, a kind heart. It was too reminiscent of times long, long ago, times he could not recapture, when the lie was all he had known. It left an uncomfortable feeling curling inside him.
Before long, they reached an open valve with a simple metal ladder leading upward. "Go up and wait," Loki said in a calm voice, his sentence barely more than a gust of wind coming from his mouth. Jack gave a nod in compliance and stepped up the long ladder. Loki turned, set on swiftly heading back to get the man dubbed "Grumpy" by Anthony, when Jack spoke to him.
"Thanks, Locke."
Loki's eyes widened in disbelief and he took a sharp breath. Not for a moment had Loki guessed that in this horrid form he could be recognized as the human Locke. Let alone that he would ever get a simple thanks from a stranger for his actions. None had ever sincerely expressed gratitude toward him in the past. Emotion overwelmed him and he suddenly felt angry. Grateful! I feel grateful toward this human! Unwilling to face the emotional turmoil raging within, Loki turned on his heels and left without a word.
The journey back was uneventful. Loki guided the next homeless man to safety. Like Jack, the other homeless man followed him, albeit, less willingly then Jack. This older man was more on edge, jumpy, so their pace was much slower. Loki's patience was sorely tested, but his nerves were also beginning to fray given the circumstances. He swore he could feel something stirring to life in the deep, below them. It was still too far away to form a direct threat, but it was close enough to unsettle him.
In the end, it was a successful arrival for the man, whose real name was Herbert. Loki remembered it vaguely from before. Jack smiled kindly at them and extended a hand, helping the other human up toward relative safety. Loki anticipated it would only be a matter of minutes before the other Avengers would arrive to guide these people back to the surface. All he needed to do now was get Anthony out of this maze as quickly as possible.
A bone-chilling screech in the distance froze Loki in his tracks, his heart racing with the rush of impending battle, a combination of anticipation and fear. Snarling to himself, he snapped out of his momentary paralysis. How foolish I was to think that anything would go well for once in my life! Loki blamed his human side for these hopeless, ignorant feelings.
Now that his cover was at least partially blown, he could go on the aggressive and hopefully, surprise the Chitauri before they reached Anthony. He headed back into the dark tunnels, risking his life, or what was left of it now, to retrieve brown-haired engineer and take him to safety. The last sliver of faith he held crumbled down with agonizing fear as he heard a familiar blast in the distance.
His pace turned into a full-fledged sprint when panic overtook him. "Anthony!" His shout bounced off the walls, an echo carried into the distance. Loki's agility carried him through the winding tunnels like an arctic wind. The only thought he had consisted of the genius whose repulsor blast he had heard.
Well, there went my first and only shot. At least I took one of them down with me.
Tony's defective repulsor was only partially restored and he knew it wouldn't fire again for a while, not until he could crawl back into his workshop and fix it. At least the one Chitauri entering their little holding area was nothing but a dead sack of meat on the ground. Its already ugly mug was now a bloody pulp of goo and Tony couldn't decide if it was an improvement or not.
With years of practice, the eccentric genius willed away the pain of the flesh-wound in his back. The throbbing of his head was no worse than a regular, good old hangover. He'd had worse. With the support of the wall closest to him, managed to right himself. The blue light of the arc reactor was his only illumination and it couldn't pierce all the shadows, but it helped him get moving. The Chitauri's noise would have alerted any others nearby, so he couldn't afford to stay put and wait like a good little boy. It wasn't his style anyway.
He had heard Loki calling out to him, the worry echoing clearly. Tony's heart would be lost in the emotions of that call if he let himself. Tony wondered, as he slowly got his bearings, if the trickster knew how distressed he sounded. Even if it was the last thing he did, he had to reach the owner of that voice. Too many things were left unspoken between them, only acted out in passionate kisses and heated strokes, words spoken on each other bodies. Tony would not let Loki get taken away from him, not by Loki himself, the other Avengers, or fucking aliens.
Fuck, I really fell in love with that bastard.
Judging from the sound of Loki's voice, he could not have been far. Around a curved corner, he crashed head-first into the cold, exotic body of a slightly frantic Frost Giant. If he could have seen, Tony would've noticed that Loki's eyes held honest warmth, affection, and relief at seeing his bearded face alive.
"Stark!" Loki shivered at the sudden heat of Anthony's skin against his own. The genius burned like a furnace against him, a sharp contrast to his colder temperature. Instinctively, Loki wrapped his arms around the other man, keeping them from falling.
"What? No welcome kiss? Because I deserve one and you know it, Highness." Tony panted from exertion and tried to grin at the face above him, but all he did was let out a hiss of paid at the effort. "Don't look at me like that. I'm fine," he slurred. "I've just slain a dragon and everything and I did it all for you."
"Anthony, stop joking and let me help you." Or as Tony heard it, Shut up and let me drag you to the nearest exit.
Hesitantly, Loki wrapped an arm around him, giving him better support then the wall ever could. As the cold emanating from that gorgeous blue skin enveloped him, Tony found it strangely comforting. It even lightened the dull pain in his head, which was enough for now. Medical care could come later, if it was needed at all. Jarvis could scan his body for cracked ribs better than any doctor. On the far side of the tunnel arose voices, still faint, but clear and obviously heading their way. At their backs, Tony could hear the eerie clicking wail of several Chitauri following their trail. No doubt, the scaled warriors were agitated by their escaped prisoners and on the hunt.
Loki pushed Anthony against a wall, shielding him as a chitinous shriek and the click of a weapon being readied for use sounded too close for comfort. Loki looked back and saw the first of the Chitauri lope toward them, ready to strike when both of them were in reach. The rest would no doubt follow its lead and come rushing into battle any second now. Without thinking of his actions, Loki pushed Anthony further into the wall and ignoring his muffled exclamation, held him there as he watched the Chitauri advance. They would not cause his engineer further harm.
The sound of firm, steady footsteps confirmed the good Captain's arrival. Assuming a battle stance, Rogers shouted, "Tony! Locke! Duck now!"
Hailing the given command instantly, Loki pulled Anthony down, falling first to shield the engineer from the hard ground and rolling immediately to shield him. Above their faces, only a breath away, Captain America's shield cut through the air. As it bounced off the wall at incredible speed toward its target, it left a faint silver-coloured trail in the air. The Chitauri had no chance at surviving the hit even if it had been a well-seasoned warrior. Never had Loki been so glad of Captain America's presence.
With a fluid zigzag motion, the starred shield made its way back to Captain America. "Locke, is Tony all right?" asked Rogers as he ran the short distance toward them, ready to aid in any way possible.
"I'm not dead yet, Cap," Tony said, pushing Loki unceremoniously off him and standing awkwardly in a feigned battle-ready stance. "Don't you know by now I'm nearly impossible to kill?" He ignored the blood still dripping from his scalp and back and pasted a cocky grin on his face. Tony knew the grin was faltering, that he wouldn't be able to keep the posturing for long, but there was no chance in hell that he would leave Loki alone. Not when there was every chance that he would be discovered, not when he could be taken away from him. I won't allow it. Not from anyone.
Loki and Rogers exchanged looks, worry evident at the wet rasp of Tony's voice. They both noticed the trouble it cost Anthony to push himself up from the ground. Neither of them spoke a word, however, for it would most likely end in an unending discussion with the stubborn genius. Before Loki had a chance to help Anthony get back on his feet, the job was taken from him by Captain America. Rogers simply lifted the engineer from the ground before the eccentric man could form a protest.
"A piggy-back ride? Seriously, Spangles? What am I, five years old?" Tony huffed, annoyed with the childish treatment. Jesus Christ, it's just a bit of blood! I've been in worse situations. The weight taken off his left side did ease the ache, he had to admit, but being mostly upside-down in a fireman's hold was making him a bit woozy. He couldn't afford to pass out though, not with everything he wanted riding on the line. If I'm not there when the others find out... He fought back a strangled sound as his throat closed tightly.
Loki smirked at the look of exasperation Rogers sent his way. The Captain adjusted Tony on his shoulder with a sigh. "Tony, you can't walk and we have to go. Now." There was no time to be wasted. Steve moved quickly, keeping a steady pace while he carried a stubborn, and constantly complaining, Tony. Steve always demanded radio silence during dangerous excursions or battle scenarios barring updates and orders. Tony, however, never managed to hold his tongue for more than a few moments. Even now, his raspy voice was issuing a non-stop stream of words. It was hard for him to believe sometimes that Tony was capable of being part of a team. Much as he loved his friend, Steven knew that Tony was not a team-player.
"I was walking just fine before," Tony huffed, slightly muffled by Roger's back as they moved with speed down the tunnels. "So what the hell do you think you are you doing?"
Rogers sighed. "Locke was obviously supporting you, Tony." The soldier turned briefly to face Tony's assistant, never pausing his steps. "Thank you for your help and saving those two men. Even if you did disobey a direct order and entered combat as a civilian, you did well and I appreciate everything you did, as I'm sure those men do."
Loki knew the patriotic soldier meant it, too, but when they discovered the inevitable, things would not go so well. Loki was all too familiar with confrontation ending in pain, ridicule, and incarceration. He shrugged off the Captain's comments, instead inquiring after the men. "Where are they?" Loki asked. It was highly uncharacteristic of him, but he felt compelled to ask.
Anthony looked at him strangely while they continued to the ladder. Loki pointedly ignored the engineer's look and the light fluttering in his stomach that was hoping the genius would be all right. The fury of the emotions battling inside him was too much; he felt tightly-wound and ready to explode. As soon as he could relax, he hoped they would fade and he could resume his normal composure. That is, if I am not discovered, which is looking less and less likely. He brushed an errant hair from his face. There was no point in dwelling on the inevitable; he would merely have to face it when it occurred.
"Thor flew or took them out, it was the fastest way." Rogers raised a brow at Locke. "I'm guessing that their cooled temperatures had something to do with you?"
Loki nodded. "It was a necessity, a precaution not to get caught. Anthony would not budge from his spot before they both reached safety." Loki could practically feel the engineer roll his eyes at those words.
"As if you'd break your promise to Bob and…" Tony broke off as the scurry of footsteps or claw marks, whatever the hell that infernal scraping sound was called, headed toward them. They were about to be welcomed with the imminent arrival of some Chitauri warriors. Tony smacked Rogers' ass in a hurry-up giddy-up motion, saying, "I'm not made of porcelain, Cap. For crying out loud, run! Run, you asshole, run!"
Loki glanced over his shoulder as he ran with the Captain. Behind them and closing fast were enraged Chitauri, already opening fire. Thankfully, no one had closed the hatch leading into the larger area above them. Rogers made Anthony go first, even though the man protested loudly. Loki did not voice it, but he was thankful for Rogers' insistence. The genius could be a formidable opponent in his suit, but with it mostly inoperable, he was naught but a "simple" man. The good Captain looked at him expectantly. Loki shook his head. "No, I will slow them down. Get Anthony out first."
It was still a frightening thing, caring for another. The things he was doing to ensure another's safety was nothing short of idiotic. Loki should not be concerned about Anthony. He should be worried about his own hide and the way these humans would strip him of it once they found out who he truly was. Loki laughed bitterly at the course his life had taken and steeled himself for battle.
Once the Captain's red boots were out of sight, Loki reached inside himself to draw on the cold core of his power. He reached out his left hand to touch the humid wall while the right gestured a sharp ice dagger into existence. He would give Anthony all the time he needed.
Once up the ladder, Steve looked down, worried about the inexperienced Locke. What he saw, however, was far from a clumsy mutant unfamiliar with and afraid of power. Tony's assistant's movements were those of a man who had learned combat moves. His stance was steady and sure and Steve knew he should remember it from somewhere.
"Locke! Get up here now!" He shouted, hoping that the man would listen to the command and see the clear advantage presented. From his vantage point, Steve saw Locke throw back his hair, blond locks following the nimble movement as he evaded a well-aimed shot. The good soldier even felt the chill in the air rise as Locke climbed to their level.
A loud boom crackling in the damp air informed Loki of Thor's arrival. "Thor, get Tony to the hospital." He no longer cared about his identity being discovered. It was barely hanging on by a thread and he knew well it would be unraveled by the Russian redhead with ease. Loki was caught in the middle of a maelstrom of unwelcome emotions, particularly in the middle of battle. The only thought of consequence now was for Anthony's safety, which was racing through his heart and mind. Thor, take him out now!
"No," stated Tony in immediate defiance, "I am not leaving him with you."
It did not escape Steve's attention that his friend was more worried about Locke than himself. This seemed far more than the familiar worry for a loved one's safety. Tony seemed confident that Locke was capable of standing on his own in battle and from what Steve had seen, he would agree. Yet this was something more. He had all the puzzle pieces. He simply needed to arrange them in the correct order.
"I have neither the time nor the inclination to argue Tony," Loki replied, scowling at the engineer. "Thor!" he shouted, "Take him out of here!" Stubborn fool! Anthony was infuriating him right now by refusing to leave. He had almost called Thor "brother" in his fit of anger.
"No, damn it!" Tony growled, pushing ineffectually at Thor as the god reached out to him. Tony damn near snarled at Thor as he tried in vain to escape the god's clutches. He resorted to giving the man a punch, which left him nursing another bruise. "Get your hands off me, Thunder Boy."
Thor was clearly confused by their conflicting words, standing there waiting until one of them made up their minds. Already, Thor perceived something he had not seen in a long while - Loki, willing to risk his life to aid another. Each time Stark lashed out and refused to leave, the temperature around them dropped, Loki's ire fueling a growing spread of frost and ice around them. Thor wanted to smile over the passion his brother was displaying toward the man, but as the words continued flying, he became worried. He would not be able to help Loki if S.H.I.E.L.D. discovered his true identity. He still held the Man of Iron, though he had tried to break free. Clearly, the mortal had underestimated his injuries and required medical attention, but still, the verbal sparring continued.
Steve watched as Locke caught up with them after having encased the hatch in frost. He was still scowling at Tony, but refusing to be drawn into further debate. Locke's strange inhuman eyes shone like those of a predator and he gripped a single shard of ice in his hand. The tall man had a feral look and Steve didn't doubt for a second that the item clutched in that hand would be deadly. From under the frozen hatch, he could hear an inhuman howl that sounded like a signal or command given to the rest of those hideous creatures. A gun was fired, but, for now, the ice held.
Natasha and Clint streamed in from one of the tunnels, bow and gun ready to strike fast and accurately. Natasha didn't even stop moving as she said, "Tony, don't make this harder than it needs to be." Tony either ignored her or was deeply engrossed in his lover's quarrel that her words went unnoticed. Seeing them argue, she knew there was something far more serious than being worried for the other's safety. There was a panic about Tony that Natasha had only seen when Pepper had been threatened. Why he was worried about leaving his assistant/lover with them had her curious. They were hiding something, but nothing stayed hidden from her for long.
A large blast stopped the group in their tracks. The ice holding the hatch cracked, sending it and stone rubble flying across the room. The gap left in the stone flooring by the explosion was wide enough to fit several men, Steve noted as he moved his shield in front of him. Or, in this case, a small but apparently experienced group of angry Chitauri. He heard Locke mutter something that sounded like a foul curse in a language he didn't understand.
A well-aimed arrow knocked out the first Chitauri to rise from the dust. Behind it, another reacted to the projectiles, speeding toward Hawkeye and forcing the archer to engage in close combat. Natasha was already fighting fiercely, her fiery red hair a violent blur as she moved constantly on the battlefield. Steve readied his stance, feet firmly on the ground and body in perfect balance. He shifted his arm into a right angle and curved to throw the shield forward at incredible velocity. When he turned to strike, however, Steve stopped dead in his tracks.
Amidst the stone gravel and settling dust, Tony's assistant had found a long pipe. The metal bar was frozen over with ragged edges and a sharp, almost transparent blade at the end. It was a weapon meant to kill and pierce while maintaining distance. Steve could not afford to question or hesitate now, not with battle engaged, but the battle stance Locke had assumed was all too familiar.
"Loki," he breathed. He stared at the man with whom he had spoken art and literature, had shared meals, not to mention who had so readily found a place in Tony's heart. He had liked the stoic assistant! To think that that man was the same person as the violent and mad Loki was mindboggling, but he couldn't dwell for too long on the fact. Steve readied himself for the incoming battle, raising his shield in a defensive manner.
Even with the sounds of fighting obscuring his voice, the remaining Avengers reacted to the name. Clint did so with something that sounded like a snarl, an ominous look on his face foreboding a need for vengeance. Hawkeye still held a grudge for having his free will taken from him. The Black Widow almost raised an eyebrow in disapproval, but her focus remained on the Chitauri who was facing her swift strikes.
Loki managed a cold red-eyed stare in Steve's direction before Anthony caught his eye. "Thor, get Anthony out. Now." The only positive of having his cover blown was that he could get Anthony to safety as this time, Thor would listen. The broad-shouldered Asgardian nodded in agreement and looked like he wanted to say something, but Loki cut him off with a glare. He had no interest in hearing Thor's meaningless words. Instead, he looked at Anthony and hoped the genius would understand. For once in his life, Loki had no words for the myriad emotions he felt.
Steve could not mistake that voice and tone for anything other than the trickster's voice now. Tony protested wildly and it struck Steve that his friend had known who Locke was all the time. Maybe not at first, but he was well aware of the identity his lover really had. Steve didn't know how long Tony had known, but obviously it had been long enough. He had to admit he felt hurt by the secrecy. He had shared almost everything with Tony: the feeling of facing the cold death of the sea, of knowing he gained a second chance at life while everyone he had known was dead or dying, the feeling of being a relic. It pained him to know that Tony hadn't trusted him enough to confide in him about this. Steve knew his initial reaction would've been anger and shock, but he would have listened before making a decision.
Tony struggled in Thor's grip, shouting, "Don't you dare lay a finger on him! Any of you!" Tony caught Loki's stare and it hurt. He couldn't even name of all of the emotions in that look, but he knew they ran deep. The trickster was already turning back to face the incoming Chitauri and Tony knew he had no time. Jesus Christ! My feelings have the worst fucking timing ever. "You..." he tried to say, a loud cough interrupting him. It felt like it crushed his lungs and the simple act of breathing was making his eyes water. Still, he managed to find his breath, yelling, "This wasn't how it was supposed to happen, you idiot!" This is not how I will lose you!
Fortunately, Steve noticed that this time, Thor listened to Locke's, no, Loki's command. Before Tony could voice his displeasure any further, the Asgardian swung his hammer and blasted off. This left the remaining three Avengers, seven Chitauri, and Loki stranded in the open underground space together. Make that six enemies - the strength of Steve's vibranium shield smacked into one, decimating it. "Chitauri first," he stated, and it was Captain America speaking, not Rogers.
Steve noticed that Clint was keeping his eyes on Loki ever since Locke's cover was blown, but he really needed his team's focus on the Chitauri right now. "Barton," he said, swinging his shield at another Chitauri. The creature was knocked back by sheer force. Any human would have been knocked out for at least an hour, but these guys were touch. The Chitauri was already crawling back to his feet to re-engage.
"Yeah, yeah. I got it, Cap." Moments like these made Clint really wish he had eyes on the back of his head. Loki was here. Under their nose, posing as Stark's assistant! Unbe-fucking-lievable! Oh, he would make sure Loki did a whole lot of atoning; this was not even close to over. His normally relaxed hand gripped the bow more tightly than necessary. I will take it out of your frosty blue hide, motherfucker. He sent a death-glare at the ex-deity in question while releasing another arrow at one of the Chitauri. For me, for Selvig, for all of us.
Steve watched out of the corner of his eye as Loki appeared to fight alongside them in this battle. The god's self-made spear pierced one of their foes in the armpit. With a twist and turn, Loki drew it out violently. A loud painful crack signalled broken bones under the organic armour and the Chitauri lunged forward out of spite and rage. Steve noticed that with a single calculated step, Loki evaded the lunge perfectly, but the movement took its toll. Loki looked exhausted, just like any human would. Steve was impressed that it didn't stop the man. Loki swung the spear swiftly and with deadly accuracy. The Chitauri that had been within his reach was disabled in one graceful movement. Not once did Loki turn his attentions to the Avengers. He focused solely on the Chitauri.
One down, five more to go.
Meanwhile, Natasha had fought and manoeuvred her way to Steve's side. She cast a barely sideways glance in his direction, asking, "Afterwards?" She kept her guns raised and firing. Her right gun ran out of ammunition, which meant until she refilled it, it was a small blunt weapon. She vaulted around one of the Chitauri and fired at a weak spot from behind it as she reloaded.
Steve turned and steadied his feet, effectively blocking an alien gunshot aimed at Natasha with his shield. "We bring him in," he said firmly, "but without harm." It was still hard for him to believe that the calm, collected, and sometimes humorous Locke was none other than Loki, the chaotic mad god who had sought to either destroy or subjugate humanity. He liked Locke and hadn't seen anything of Loki in the man. He could've helped Tony if only he'd talked to him. Steve didn't know what he could do now.
Steve somehow doubted that the Asgardian would turn on them now. Even though Loki clearly had power at his disposal, it didn't add up with what Steve had come to know of the man. For now, he hoped the man was the person in front of him, not the god. Hope was all he could do. He almost felt he could feel okay with this Locke-Loki person at his back. Tony was willing to fight for the man and Steve knew Tony didn't trust easily. If Tony wasn't under some sort of spell, and given that Steve himself had been in Locke's presence more than a few times and hadn't felt anything, Tony's trust said a lot.
Two rapid gunshots blasted from Natasha's weapons, bringing down the number of foes by one. The fourth dead Chitauri slid to the dusty floor. The Widow's face, Steve noted, carried a large bruise, though he knew that it wouldn't hinder the woman. If anything, it might even make her more alert and dangerous.
Steve raised his shield and blocked a clawed punch, the vibrations of metal on metal running through his body like a song. With practiced effort, he moved forward, throwing fast punches to confuse his opponent. When the creature thought it had found an opening, it reached out only to be met by the shield again. The Chitauri warrior had made a rookie mistake and bared its sides to an enemy. Steve focused a few devastating shots to its ribs, or whatever these creatures had, and made his foe stagger backward.
The Chitauri chittered in surprise as one of Loki's daggers apparently struck it from behind. As it reached backward to try and get a hold of the sharp ice, a well-struck uppercut from Steve put an end to its miserable life. His gaze strayed to Loki, who had helped. He met cold, red eyes that revealed nothing, as if the man was trying to deal with his aid being an "accidental" issue. Not for a second did Steve believe that cold exterior, not after all he'd seen. This was the same man with whom he'd become acquainted over these last weeks and Steve's instincts about people were rarely wrong when it came down to matters such as these. He would stand up for his friend and give Tony the opportunity to explain everything honestly. It would take more than a trickster's luck and Tony's and Steve's word to convince Fury, however.
The last two Chitauri, realising they were now outnumbered, tried to crawl back through the broken hatch, back into the dark and damp tunnels. A ringing gunshot solved one escape and the Chitauri fell down the black hole, a lifeless husk. The last standing alien hissed viciously in rage over its fallen comrades, a sound Steve hoped he would never hear again. The Chitauri had probably expected fewer enemies than this and definitely not ones who would fight back. Its black, beady eyes flitted back and forth between Steve, Natasha, and the blue vision of Loki.
Forgetting about Hawkeye was something the Chitauri learned the hard way - an arrow struck it right through the throat. It was never wise to dismiss Barton and his perfected aim. It proved to be the greatest mistake of its unlucky life. Just like that, the skirmish was over; the noise of battle reduced to an uncomfortable silence. Steve looked over his team, checking for injuries. With the exception of himself, they all had minor injuries. Thankfully, they were nothing more than bruises that would darken in time and small cuts and scratches on forearms or face. It was a price each of them gladly paid for a battle ending well. Given time, the wounds would heal, unlike emotional damage that festered and burned like a bad infection. He knew all too well the damage done to the mind never cleared as easily as physical wounds.
Steve shifted his attention to Clint whose rapid breaths foretold nothing good. The archer still held his bow, knuckles turning white from the tension and strength used in his grip. Steve had seen enough good men blinded by sudden rage on the battlefield - they turned crazy, like rabid dogs. Nothing pleasant or good ever came from such situation and people usually ended up imprisoned, injured, or dead. A quick glance toward the Black Widow and she was on her way.
"Clint, lower your weapon." Captain America had spoken clearly; it was an order to be followed without hesitation. Hawkeye's stare seemed to intensify as slowly scrutinized Loki's new form from head to toe. Steve could feel everything spiraling out of control. He wanted to resolve this conflict without injuries, to give Locke, no, Loki, a chance to talk. Clint was having none of it.
"You." The word was almost spat out by Hawkeye, who hadn't lowered his weapon at all, but retrained it on Loki. His sole focus was the man who had taken everything from him with a simple tap to the chest. He had been trapped in his own body, forced to watch as it complied with every order, no matter how much he had fought. What was worse is that it had only been a small part of him that fought; a larger part of him wanted desperately to please the man standing in front of him now. He could never forgive Loki for that utter loss of self-control...or that desire to please.
Steve had never expected to see Loki so battered. Even with the blue skin disguising any blemishes, the good soldier knew they were there simply from observing Loki's posture. The Asgardian, or self-proclaimed god, looked more human than Steve had ever seen him, even if he was obviously anything but.
A dark, haughty look crossed Loki's face. Loki knew provoking the already aggressive archer who so desperately wanted payback was foolish, but a part of him truly couldn't care less - every fiber of his being ached with fatigue, physical and emotional. "I believe the old endearment you used was either master or a polite sir," said Loki mockingly. He felt his lips curl in a taunting and malicious sneer. He wanted to just let it all stop. He was tired. He was positive that Thor would have reached a hospital by now. Not even that dimwit could deny the urgency of Anthony's injuries. And Barton made such an easy target for his animosity.
Steve inwardly cursed at this reply.
"Not any more, you fucking bastard." Clint managed a soft painful laugh. "Look at you. You're pathetic," he sneered back, tilting his head at the dead Chitauri at his feet, never moving his bow from his target. "You're no better than the rest of these monsters."
For a split second only, Steve saw a very real, very human hurt in Loki's eyes. Then he saw the mask come down and turn back into that cold crimson stare. Things were getting messy and soon out of control if he couldn't handle the situation.
"How wrong you are, Barton," Loki growled, a malicious grin twisting his face. "I am a far greater monster."
Both Steve and Natasha saw that daring grin and the flash of anger on Clint's face in response. Neither could act fast enough to stop Clint's fingers from releasing the arrow nocked on his bow. Steve knew it was a special arrow created by Tony at Hawkeye's request, a cruel item meant to immediately disable the opponent instead of killing it. Once it had burrowed itself in the flesh, it would split open into several fishhook-like shapes. Steve grimaced as it struck Loki in his shoulder; Clint definitely wanted the trickster to feel pain.
Loki's scream of pain appeared to snap the Hawk out of his trance. Steve rushed in to help, or in this case, make sure Loki didn't try to pull out the arrow as an instinctive reflex. He snapped off the arrow's shaft; for now, it was all Steve could do. The wound bled an angry red and it would not surprise the soldier if bones were fractured under that cerulean skin.
"That was a low blow, Clint," noted Natasha coldly. "Unneeded." Clint shrugged at her and began to search for any arrows that could be reclaimed.
Steve was surprised at the temperature of Loki's skin; the cold wasn't trying to bite at his fingers. Slowly, the cold seeped out of Loki's body, the foreign marks and strange skin tone vanishing with it. Before long, the exotic, feral being Loki had appeared to be vanished into thin air, making way for a blond man in obvious pain. Blood streamed from the wound in his shoulder, cuts caused by walking barefoot in the sewer and underground tunnels covered his bare legs and feet. A soft purple shadow on his side betrayed a nasty bruise that would turn green, blue, and yellow within a day.
Captain America turned a bit pale while restraining Loki from reaching for the foreign object embedded in his shoulder. This was a man who had saved three lives, one of whom was Steve's best friend. Loki had rescued Tony before the Avengers could and only because he wanted the eccentric genius safe. "We need to get him help," Steve said, looking at Clint and Natasha with a look that would brook no argument.
Clint and Natasha nodded, the former somewhat reluctantly, but Clint had seen what the rest of them had: a regular, human man in pain. Loki was no longer the deity he once was and before any of them could ask why or how that had occurred, this strange, new Loki needed his injuries tended.
Steve settled on carrying him out. It wasn't like the ex-god could cause harm now, particularly in his current condition. The ex-god was barely holding onto consciousness. When the three Avengers walked out of the underground and breathed in the fresh cold night's air, they found S.H.I.E.L.D. waiting for them, ready to take Loki into custody.
Ok This chapter has also been revised,re-betad and edited by Swordmistress. I ended up adding so much that it got even longer and emotional.
Again thank you guys for reading, feel free to leave a review to let me know what you thought of this chapter.
