Thanks to everyone who read, fav'd, alerted and most of all to Savysnape7, ThoseEvilDucks, duchesslynn4, .2016, SeriouslySirius0409, vintage87, and guests "guest" (That's all so nice to hear, I'm very glad you enjoy the story and like Eirlys, all imperfections included ;)) and "Scarlett (He did! There's still some good left in him, it appears ;))

I know I'm a day late with updating, but I unfortunately had to go to the A&E yesterday evening with an allergic reaction; I'm fine, though, they fixed me super quickly, I just came back groggy and didn't have the energy to put this up anymore.

Late or not, I hope y'all enjoy the new chapter!

Heroes and Villains

My breath had not quite caught when Tony touched down in front of me. The iron suit looked even more battered now, but he was smiling at me - even though it looked a little strained.

"Hand-to-hand combat is dangerous, princess," he chastised gently with a nod to the frozen alien

I swallowed hard, but tried to be as nonchalant as possible. "If you think I let these things touch me, you're very wrong."

"Okay," he grinned. "I still need you out of the streets."

Tony's flying was a lot different from Thor's - it was more of a push and less of a pull - but it worked just as well. For a second, just before he dropped me off on Stark Tower again, I feared I might slipping, losing my hold on the metal of his suit, but he had me in a death grip.
He landed us, quite safely, on the terrace leading to his penthouse, at least if I interpreted the scattered remains of his living room correctly.

"I do want to fight," I told him.

"I know," he said. "But distance's a pretty great thing. Hey Jarvis! Gun, please!"

My protest ran short at his call and I asked, a bit dumbstruck, "Jarvis?"

"My AI," he said as if I was supposed to know what that meant. It did not matter either way; the gun he had spoken of basically dropped out of thin air, though I surely just missed where it had originated from.

I knew about guns - I had obviously already seen them in action, but had absolutely no idea how to use them or even how they worked in general. Stark seemed to notice my hesitance as he handed it to me.

"You just aim and then pull the trigger right here and it should-"

"How does this work in the first place?" I asked, crossing my arms in front of my chest. From the look of this thing, I was more likely to hurt myself than to shoot one of our enemies.

"Well - basically, it's a bullet that's shot out at high speed and if you aim-"

"Can you take them out?" I interrupted. "The bullets, I mean."

He blinked at me as if I had gone crazy, but I had not. The truth was, rather than on any kind of technology, I wanted to rely on myself. At least that way, I knew what would work and what would not. My actions would be a lot more helpful that way.

A click and a pull and some rustling and he dropped about a dozen of little projectiles in my outstretched hands. "And now?" he asked.

I picked up one of the projectiles - funny how something so small could have such an effect - and with a little effortless push sent it right into the back of one of the aliens passing by on their chariots across the street. It stiffened and then tumbled off its vehicle.

"Now," I said. "I get to work."

Tony had been right - distance was a great thing. The bullets were sent away pretty soon, but I found that little pebbles of rubble strewn across the terrace worked just as well. The magic reliably delivered whatever I chose exactly where I wanted it to go - and from what I could see, the others took down their fare share of enemies.

Yet they just kept coming; for every one that was slain, three more seemed to arrive. I did not know how long we would be able to hold them off, but by the look of it, it was not long. All of this would mean nothing if we could not close the portal.

Another chariot passed by and I was almost ready to send the deadly bullet out when I saw who was riding on it.
With a cat-like movement, Loki had snatched something out of the air. His attention was focused solely on wherever it had come from - it would be so easy to take him out now. Whatever the humans said, we were not immortal. Just a little push and he would... but I could not do it.
The clenching of my heart at the thought told me that I did not want Loki dead, no matter the circumstances. I knew how it could crush me.

As I watched, the chariot exploded. Or perhaps it was not the chariot at all, but whatever he had been holding. Either way, Loki was thrown, in a hot blaze, through the air and crashed, mere feet above me, into the already damaged penthouse.
There was no time for contemplation, because the moment he crashed, the building shook again. A tense glance down told me the Hulk was climbing upwards steadily. I would have entrusted Dr Banner with Loki's life anytime, but I could not trust the Hulk.

My leg throbbed with the strain as I climbed the stairs to the penthouse as fast as I could. When I arrived, Loki just rolled himself up in a flurry of broken glass. Our eyes met for a split second before the Hulk burst into the room. The giant advanced, dark beetle-like eyes fixed on Loki.

"No!" I wondered if Dr Banner knew how much control the Hulk really had, for the monster stopped when I stepped in his way. "I can take care of this - don't hurt him. I beg you, Bruce-"

The roar was unlike anything I had ever heard. It shook the air around us, it shook the very walls, it rang painfully in my ears. My knees were shaking with the sight of angrily balled fists and teeth that could probably crush my skull. I did not move.

"Enough!"

It was Loki's shout that made me crumble, that made me turn and step aside when I saw him standing tall and with an evil glint in his eye.

"You are, all of you, beneath me!" he yelled at the Hulk. "I am a god, you dull creature and I will not be bullied-"

My mouth opened to scream, but no sound came out. In a move too fast even for my eyes, the Hulk had grabbed Loki by his legs and with a grand haul, slammed him down onto the floor. Left, right, and again until the floor had dented and Loki lay, motionless within it, covered with blood and rubble.

"Puny god," the monster uttered.

Loki's whimper was the most pathetic sound I had ever heard from him. I dropped to my knees by his side and reached out to touch him. He attempted to shake his head, but I stopped him at once by placing my hands against the sides of his neck. With every right, too - I was not a healer and it was hard to be precise, but I thought it probable that he might have cracked a vertebra.

"It'll heal," he whispered.

His face was contorted in pain, but his eyes appeared much clearer than they had in long. It was as if he had only now properly woken up. When he attempted to move again, I pressed my fingertips lightly into his skin and he let out a pained groan.

"I can give it a little push," I offered. "We ought to get you back on your feet."

He breathed out in a stuttered sigh. "You need... your strength."

I bit my lip. If we did get in trouble, if I did need my strength, it would do us no good if only I was on my feet. I could perhaps open us an escape route if we got under attack, but I could not fight a larger number of foes, not at the rate they were coming in. Considering the condition Loki was in, the aliens would not listen to him, leader or not. I needed him at least able to walk.

"If they come," he said and my eyes widened. "You run and leave me alone."

Perhaps if I had not been so preoccupied with this predicament, I would have noticed sooner - but much like his eyes, our connection was suddenly crystal clear again. That tornado of emotions - sadness, wounded pride, fear, inexplicable affection - was not mine. It was his.

I felt suddenly light like floating, despite everything. I could feel him again and could barely remember the last time I had. It was a bit overwhelming, much akin to when we first created the bond and it was just as exhilarating.

"I won't leave you," I said and his lips pulled slightly upward. "If I could, I wouldn't even be in this realm."

"You have to-"

"I won't," I said, as assuredly as I could. I straightened in spite of it and shook my limbs that had started prickling in my bent position. A sharp sting shot through me; as soon as we were out of danger, I would have to take care of that bloody leg. "You have five minutes, then I'll speed up the process."

His protest fell on deaf ears. He apparently did not know what was good for him and he had never known what was good for me. Loving him, I decided, did not necessarily mean listening to his orders.

I reached the windows just in time for a peculiar display. The portal was still open, a deep black hole in the sky and yet there was a figure approaching it that did not look like one of the aliens at all. It was hard to make out from a distance, but it seemed to be some kind of missile - and beneath it was something that seemed to consist of red and gold.

My stomach twisted into a tight knot. He would not - would he? Tony was not the hero type, absolutely not the type to self-sacrifice. Yet there the shape went, closer and closer to the portal.

Then he was in - I know felt decidedly sick. For a horrible long moment, nothing happened - then it exploded. My eyes closed off their own accord, but the light shone through anyway and it stung behind my eyelids.
When I could bring myself to see again, the aliens were dropping out of the sky like flies and in the midst of them dropped, quite lifless, the Man of Iron.

Tears sprung into my eyes and I slapped a hand over my mouth to stifle a sob. I suddenly felt very uncomfortable up here with Loki - how would I ever be able to look the others in the eye again, when Tony dropped dead from the sky and I was taking care of the very man who had caused it?
I tried to blink the tears away, but every time my eyes closed, I saw the echo of Tony's fall before me. He could have survived, though, could he not? Who knew what that suit could do! He got hit by Mjolnir and only broke one bone, he might have survived a fall... but then, he had fallen so far.

Loki had drawn himself into a sitting position and watched my tears with a frown. "Are you leaving me?" he asked.

"You told me I should," I said.

"Yet you are the only one who doesn't look upon me with hatred," he said. "I'd rather you didn't."

A moment of honesty, I could feel it. "And I won't," I said.

He nodded at me. The first step towards him was hard to do, and then every one got easier until I crouched next to him again. His neck felt much more stable when I touched it again.

"How does it feel?"

Loki let out a hollow laugh that made both of us wince. "Terrible," he said.

"I see," I said.

"I was afraid you'd get hurt," he said suddenly. "You shouldn't be fighting."

I snorted. "I did fine," I told him. "You helped me though."
There had been no time to think about it in the middle of a war, but that one of the aliens would freeze was no coincidence. Even through all the hatred in him, Loki would not let me get hurt. He smiled and reached out to touch me, but had to drop his arm at once with a groan of pain.

"I should just-"

"Why do you want me healthy?" he challenged. "Are you gonna help me flee from your friends?"

I swallowed hard - indeed, was I going to do that? Leave the destruction unavenged, all our pain, Tony's death? Loki was looking at me quizzically - but loving him was not enough to justify that. My love for him did not make him exempt from good and evil. It should not cloud my judgement as it had in the past.

"No," I finally said. "I'm not."

"Good," Loki said. "'Cause they're already here."

He was right - when I turned to see where the rustling was coming from, I found the group approaching us - our brother, bloodied but confident, the monstrous Hulk, an even more grim captain and Clint and Natasha; and, in the midst of them, looking more determined than all of them, Tony.

A tiny squeal escaped me and my heart soared. Already, the tears were drying on my face.

"If it's all the same to you," Loki muttered. "I'll have that drink now."

Tony could hardly suppress a grin, but the rest of them seemed less amused.

While the upper part of the tower had suffered quite a bit from the attack - in fact, most of the big letters had fallen into oblivion - the lower levels had survived in better shape. They consisted mostly of offices, but it was enough to sit down, hydrate and patch up the wounds. It was also enough to lock criminals away and Thor insisted on playing guard to our brother himself.

"I thought you died," I said when Tony tossed me a water bottle that, much like everything in this building, had his name branded on it. "I saw you fall."

"Yeah, the big guy caught me," he said and a curious look passed over his face. "It was pretty close."

As if on cue, a roar sounded from an adjoining room, where Natasha tried to convince the good doctor to return from the greenery. There was no doubt in my mind that she would succeed; Natasha was a force of nature that not even the Hulk could withstand.

"You held your own pretty well," Tony said. "Though you did switch teams in the end-"

"Did not," I said at once. "I wouldn't have helped him escape."

He took me in from head to toe and finally nodded. "I know," he said. "You're crazy like that."

Was I? Loki was a danger not only to those that suffered his wrath, but to himself. I had known this since the faithful day he had gone to Jotunheim without me and nothing had changed since. My hope was that if he was brought back to Asgard as was Thor's plan, he would finally have the time and peace to return to who he once was.
Making him a fugitive, a wanted criminal, would not provide him that opportunity, even if it left him his freedom. Not to mention that I firmly believed crimes committed should be punished.

"Perhaps," I said.

"You could be an Avenger, too, you know?" Tony said and at my raised eyebrow added, "Earth mightiest heroes kinda thing. Fury thought it up for us."

I smiled at that. It was awfully nice of him to offer it - but one look at him told me I was not made for this. I had seen his fall to save the world, had seen Doctor Banner face his innermost demons for this fight. Steve and Clint had looked grim, last I had seen them, and had gone off to search for Clint's lost arrows. For the next time.

All of them looked a lot more damaged than I had, and they seemed to have passed the point of exhaustion. I did not know what still kept them on their feet. They all looked so battered and so triumphant at the same time. They shone with a bravery I could only hope to ever achieve.
Me, I had cared for myself and my own more than anything else while they had risked their life for others. Perhaps this world, as pretty as it was, did not mean enough to me - or perhaps I was just not cut from the same cloth.

"I don't think so," I said. "But if you ever need to be patched up again, I'm happy to help."

Tony smiled, but it looked a little strained. "It's unlikely, but I hope I'll never need your help."

I did not say it, but I felt the exact same way.

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