Disclaimer: I do not own the Marvel universe at all, kthnx.
Warnings: social unrest, two men in a relationship together, unethical practices, language, alcohol, dark themes, psychological trauma, mind games. You know. The fun stuff.
Author's Note: Life has been really crazy. And I was really burnt out. And I was getting cabin fever because I didn't have my car and couldn't get anywhere on my own, so I needed a weekend. I took that. My brain feels a lot better now.
BITTER SIRENS
PART IV: A DISTORTED REFLECTION
CHAPTER VIII: ACCOUNTABILITY
"I'm en route right now." Natasha pressed on her communicator, disconnecting. She pushed her hand through the other arm of her suit, slipping it up over her shoulder as he walked. With a jerk, she zipped it up, slapping the elevator button.
Before the elevator hit the bottom floor, she was already patched through to Fury's office, interrupting his falsely cordial greeting. "Fury, do you have any idea what you are doing?"
"I am well aware of the situation and we have it under control."
"Control? You call that control?" Natasha gritted her teeth, hand shaking. "Do you have any idea how close they got? How much damage was almost done?"
"I believe you stated the key term there, Agent Romanoff. Almost. As in it didn't happen."
Natasha let out a growl, cutting it short as the elevator doors dinged open. She brushed past security, slamming her card through the scanner and shoving the door open.
Stark was bent over in his chair, one foot in a stripped down mechanical boot, multiple tools in hand. He looked up sharply, whatever he was about to say dying on his lips. He glanced at the clock then back at her, frown deepening.
"We have a situation."
He sat up sharply, blinking a few times. She didn't move, standing in the doorway. If she moved, it would likely be to strike something, so she had to keep perfectly still. If he said anything sarcastic right now, it would probably be him.
Thankfully, Stark seemed to be speechless.
"The protest got out of hand."
Stark shrugged, bending back over his leg. "What else is new?"
"Pepper was in it."
He froze. She could see the vein pulse on his neck. She didn't tense, though. Stark didn't turn into a massive killing machine when he was under stress, and good thing, because he always seemed to be under stress. Like he thrived on it.
Not this kind.
"Is she…"
"S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives intercepted her and have taken her to a safe location. Happy was taken to a secure hospital." Natasha glanced between Stark and Loki. The latter was facing mostly away, but his head was turned, just enough that Natasha knew he was listening. Right now, she didn't care. "I was going to her safe location, though if you want, I can relieve you of duty so you can go."
Stark lowered his head, letting out a shaky breath. He fiddled with his tools, then shook his head. "Just keep me updated."
"I figured I'd give you the option."
He cringed at her word choice. Natasha knew it was a poor one, but went with it anyway. As far as she was concerned, Stark was still on her negative list. Still, she would keep him informed. He deserved that much, at least.
0
For a second, however fleeting, he was certain he saw actual emotion on Stark's features, all of those masks pulled away in a startling moment of clarity. There was worry, first and foremost, followed in quick succession by what could only be classified as fear. That look was much like the feeling of falling, of feeling the drop and knowing there were only moments before hitting the bottom, hard.
Before the bottom could be found, his expression was recovered, masks pulled securely into place. Even with that shield up, Loki could see chips in the armor which once seemed so utterly impervious.
Loki fought against a smirk, keeping his lips pursed in a thin, disinterested line. He turned his gaze away, focusing on the glass. In the reflection, he could see the Black Widow leave the room, see Stark set back to whatever project it was he worked so diligently on night after night.
The man's hands never stopped moving, and Loki could tell, his mind did not either. He was in a constant state of creation. Loki stretched his fingers, gritting his teeth as he felt the strain of the cold shackles encircling his wrists.
In the silent hours, he had created a mental map of the shackles, of every facet of them, mapped even how they stretched invisible fingers into his bones and barred the pulse of magic through his veins. There was just enough let through, as small a fraction as it was, to keep the illusion of Aesir pale skin and emerald eyes, just enough to make him look more a person than the monster that lay beneath it all.
It was a magic he did not control, a magic not of his own creating. Perhaps that was why it was allowed to run free while the rest had been effectively dammed.
And if one thing, however small, was allowed past, then others could be, too.
"Brooding again?"
Loki blinked, bringing his mind back to the present. He turned slowly, smirk flashing across his features. "The same could be said about you."
"I'm working." Stark pointed one of his tools at Loki, scowling. Loki had expected a smirk. Perhaps his masks were not so immaculate to cover this latest discovery. "I have an excuse. You don't."
"Oh? My neck being placed firmly upon the executioner's block is not a proper excuse?" Loki let out a small breath of a laugh, shaking his head. As the Midgardians would put it, Stark was truly 'a piece of work'.
Stark shrugged. He returned to his wires and machinery, changing this connection or that. The broken down structure reminded him of his diagrams of the Bifrost, in a way. He assumed Stark had diagrams as well, somewhere, no doubt in that glowing rectangle of glass he carried with him.
As interesting as it was just to watch him tinker in his natural environment, there were much more intriguing matters to prod at.
"This woman, is her name truly Pepper?"
Stark closed his eyes, and Loki could see the tension snap tight in his jaw. Just as quick as that, it was gone, though. He turned his tool sharply, gritting against the force. In a matter of moments he was moving his foot around, the metal frame gliding easily around his foot, actually showing some mobility Loki did not remember his crimson and gold metal suit having.
"It's Virginia."
Loki nodded, though he had no idea about Midgardian naming customs, nor could he tell where such a pet name as Pepper would come from. It was no doubt something sentimental, otherwise such a simple, innocent question would not have caused such a reaction.
Or perhaps the sentiment was for her.
He touched the glass lightly, fingertips ghosting over the surface. They left no mark. No alarms sounded, either. He pressed his palms to the glass, leaning against them. Nothing. He was not sure if he should feel relief or insult.
"Is she your lover?"
"No."
There was that tension again, so brief it might be missed, if he had not been looking specifically for it. Loki leaned against the glass again, knee pressing on it. The structure did not give at all, despite all his strength being put into it at the moment. The cage was much stronger than it looked at first glance. If he had his magic, he would have already known that, though.
Thankfully, Stark was too distracted to see he was testing the limits, and Loki entirely planned on keeping it that way.
"But she was, at one point. I can tell."
Stark closed his eyes, hanging his head. He did not even try concealing his reaction this time, much to Loki's pleasure.
One chip to the armor at a time. Soon enough, it would fall.
"I assume you have a new lover now?"
"That's none of your business."
Loki shrugged, taking a step back from the glass. Stark leveled a heated glare at him, drawing out a short laugh from Loki. "Ah, but what of our earlier discussions? Were they truly any more my business than this?"
He had a valid point, and he could tell Stark realized it, despite whatever frustration it might have caused him. Loki smiled again, and it was somewhere close to warm, if it hadn't been for the opposite message no doubt visible in his eyes. Just another elaborate mask.
"It is interesting that I have only had four guards of your group. What of the mindless beast? Has he finally strayed so far from the light he is no longer worthy of the title Avenger?"
Stark's hand trembled on his tool, coiling tight enough around the hilt of it that his knuckles flared white. If there was not glass in the way, he was certain he would be able to hear the man grinding his teeth.
He had struck something with this, though what it was, he could not be certain.
"Is it because he is a monster, that he is not trusted?"
"That's not it." Stark grated the words out, tapping the tool against his hand. There were red marks left behind. It no doubt stung, though Stark hardly noticed. "He's busy."
"And you are not? It seems to me as though there are millions of things you would rather be doing." Loki made a slow circle of his cell, gaze never leaving Stark once. He could not miss a moment. "Even the archer has made an appearance. What is so special about the beast to make him exempt?"
Stark swallowed roughly, Loki tracing the bob of his throat's apple with his eyes. If there was not a cell around Loki, if they were not underground—perhaps in Stark's private quarters at the top of the tower again—he was certain the man would be tempted to try tossing him from a window this time, rather than the other way around.
It was a fun game, but one which he would tire of quickly if Stark did not start providing at least some answers.
"I said it was none of your business."
Loki paused mid-step, opening his mouth to retort before he caught himself. Stark had not, to his recollection, said anything about the beast's absence being none of his business. No, he had said his love life was not his business.
"I see." Loki straightened his shoulders, scrutinizing Stark in a completely new sort of light, now. He was glad now for his patience, even if he had been close to its end. "How does he feel about your time spent here? I believe this is Midgard's night, and you are not there to share your bed with him."
Stark's eyes grew wide, and again, it was like the sensation of falling. He could see it. See the plummet. See the bottom looming there, so close, about to hit. Stark closed his expressive brown eyes, taking a shaky breath.
He was not sure what to make of the sudden change. It was an admission, but of what sort? It could be surprise at his secret being discovered, or it could be a sort of fear, that same fear shown when the Widow announced Pepper had been in danger. Or maybe he was just exasperated, though Loki doubted it. Tony did not seem the sort to become exasperated so easily.
"Perhaps I was wrong." Loki lifted his hands, though the gesture did little, as they were bound together at the wrist. It was irritating, to say the least. "A jest, nothing more."
Stark let out a slow breath, slow enough that it was meant to go unnoticed. Loki caught it. There was a sign of relief, clear, very clear.
It was best, he decided, if Stark suspected he was completely in the dark on this. There would be more trust, and less pressure, in a way. At least, that was his aim. The less pressure building up between them, the better.
Those whom were comfortable always spilled the most information, whether they intended it or not.
0
"Are you absolutely sure about this?"
Fury stared up at the bare ceiling, frowning. Though his hands were clasped behind his back, there was an itch in his fingers, an itch that could only be scratched by holding his gun. Right now, he had some more important fish to fry, though.
"Yeah, I'm sure, Coulson."
Coulson gave a small nod with that patient smile he always conjured up. Fury really didn't like being on the receiving end of that. It was a damn effective weapon.
"In that case, I will inform all the proper venues and rally security for your announcement."
"It's not like the President is giving a speech."
Coulson pressed on with that smile, not budging. "Considering the recent attacks against members of the Avengers initiative as well as against Stark Industries employees, I believe I am perfectly warranted in saying it is necessary."
Fury had to give him that. He nodded. That was the only signal Coulson needed at this point. They'd worked together long enough to know the signs. Coulson turned on his heel and headed out of the room, heading towards the surface again.
He went the opposite direction, to the room one Virginia Pepper Potts was currently housed it.
It wasn't meant to be comfortable, but they did what they had to in the short amount of time they had. In fact, originally, it was a low threat hostile holding cell. Pepper wasn't a threat, as far as he could tell, but they needed a safe location.
Fury knocked on the door, once out of being cordial, before walking in. He leaned on the wall, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
Pepper glanced up from her seat on the cot, standing quickly. She opened her mouth, then looked down, collecting herself before speaking.
"I want a status update, this instant, on how Happy is doing. I also demand to be allowed out of this room, because I'm not the enemy here. And I want to know if everyone in the Tower is fine."
"Miss Potts, I did not come here—"
"Don't you dare avoid my questions. If it wasn't for me, Tony never would have considered helping you out. No Iron Man on your team. So I think you owe me this much, at least."
"You definitely drive a hard bargain." Fury leveled his eye at her, considering. He could see how Pepper had survived as Stark's handler for so long. She'd earned her reputation, and then some. "But I agree."
Pepper continued frowning at him, mirroring his position with arms crossed.
"Your driver is being transferred as we speak. He only needed a few stitches, so he'll be just fine. As for the Tower, it is still on lock down. All the proper personnel were informed of the situation. Agent Romanoff is currently on her way and will be handling your stay here."
"See, that wasn't so hard." Pepper had the same smile at Coulson, and he had a feeling it wasn't nearly as patient as it looked. "Is anyone else on their way?"
"I'm not sure. Last I checked, Mr. Stark is fulfilling babysitting duty at this hour."
Her smile fell, brows knitting in. "Babysitting what?"
"I thought he would have told you already. It's not like he kept other S.H.I.E.L.D. secrets from you." Fury let his arms drop to his sides, opening the door. "We brought Loki back from Asgard."
Pepper's jaw dropped.
Fury smiled straight at her, nodding his head. "I hear Agent Romanoff now—"
"When were you going to tell the press? When someone got killed?"
"I am on my way to a press conference now."
"In the middle of the night?" Pepper rolled her eyes. "How dumb do you think I am?"
"I had to arrange for it on the fly, considering the current situation. Now, if you'll—"
"No, I won't excuse you. How long has Loki been here? How long have you been sitting on this, just watching New York City boiling over? I could have been killed tonight! Happy could have been killed! They shot at Tony and Captain Rogers in the street! They attacked Natasha in plain daylight!"
"It's gotten a little out of hand."
"A little? You call that a little?" Pepper pointed toward the wall, though it was more a general direction sort of thing. The effect wasn't lost on him. "Have you even been out there, or are you too busy staring down from your lofty office to notice what the rest of us have to wade through?"
Thankfully, Agent Romanoff stepped in, not even glancing at him as he gestured to Pepper.
"Come on. Let's get some coffee or something."
Pepper gave him her best death glare on her way out of the room, and if looks could kill, he'd be liberally screwed right now. Thankfully, she wasn't nearly as super human as the others he had to deal with on a daily basis. Also, thankfully, she didn't keep up the interrogation, otherwise he'd have to offer a job and a security clearance to go with it.