A World Without You

by DocWordsmith

Post-Endgame. The remaining Avengers are trying to rebuild their lives in the wake of Thanos and all the destruction he wrought. Some lost more than others. Some are gaining something new. They are all learning to heal, move forward, and live in a world without some of their best loved heroes and friends. (Endgame & Far From Home compliant, mostly - & yes, there will be spoilers)

10. A tingle of madness

Here we go, y'all. A nice and meaty chapter! I tried to pack a lot in here for you guys. My ankle surgery went well – no walking for three more weeks. So, I was able to write this lovely, bulky chapter :) Hopefully, I'll be able to crank out some more soon, but I also go back to work on Monday (boo). No promises on the timeframe of the next update, but I hope this one will hold ya over until it happens.

Chapter 10: A tingle of madness

The summer gathering had been so promising at its start. The week before, the Bartons had excitedly packed for their annual trip to meet with the other Avengers. When they'd arrived that morning, Clint had been looking forward to time with friends and to focusing on good memories.

Then Loki showed up.

And Clint had been bitter ever since.

Then, to make maters worse, this random kid showed up with claims about the Multiverse and the promise of yet another destructive force looming. Awesome.

With a sigh, Clint sat back in the chair he'd been occupying for the last couple hours. He raised his arms above his head and stretched, cracking the joints in his neck and knuckles as he did. The one-way glass in front of him served to separate his small control-room styled space from the cell it looked in on. The archer let out a grunt of annoyance as he considered how much more comfortable the cell appeared – even if it only had bare walls, an old recliner, and a bed with sheets that looked like they came straight from a Motel 6, the cell was practically an oasis compared to Clint's dark, dingy room with a shitty office chair with a squeaky wheel and a desk with uneven legs.

As he leaned back with a sigh, balancing precariously in the squeaky, wobbly chair, Clint heard a noise. He looked at the glass in front of him and saw the figure on the bed roll over and sit up.

The boy in the cell looked around before letting out a heavy sigh and, surprisingly, chuckling to himself. He shook his head as he mumbled, "The contingency cells. Really?"

Clint watched silently, curious what the kid would do if he thought he was alone.

To his continued surprise, the kid looked right at him. Well, not at him, since that was impossible through the privacy glass. But he looked right at the one-way mirror, narrowing his eyes, apparently already certain that someone was on the other side.

"Hey, whoever's on guard? Remind me – what's your AI's name? You don't have JARVIS anymore right?"

Muted to their 'guest,' FRIDAY told Clint, "You can push the button on the desk to speak with him. Or, would you like me to respond?"

"Go ahead, FRI. See what he wants," Clint answered.

Then, in both rooms, FRIDAY said, "My name is FRIDAY, Sir. Can I be of assistance?"

The kid glanced up and smiled. "Hi, FRIDAY. I'm Nathaniel," he introduced himself politely. "It's kinda hot in here. If that's not part of some interrogation tactic, it'd be great if you could fix it."

"Certainly, Nathaniel," FRIDAY told him, sounding almost relieved that it was such a simple request.

The kid scooted back so he could sit cross-legged on the bed, with his back against the wall. He closed his eyes and leaned back. "What does FRIDAY stand for?" Nathaniel asked, still looking way too relaxed for a prisoner, in Clint's opinion.

FRIDAY hesitated and Clint said, "I don't see why you shouldn't tell him. I doubt it's something that he could use against us."

"JARVIS was my predecessor. FRIDAY is an anagram," FRIDAY told Nathaniel. "It stands for Female Replacement Intelligently Designed After You."

Nathaniel was quiet for a minute before smiling. "He really loved J, didn't he?"

"Yes, Nathaniel," FRIDAY answered softly.

The kid opened his eyes and looked back toward the mirror. "You," he said, nodding toward the glass, "are either trying very hard to intimidate me, or. . ." he paused and his smile grew wider. Then, he lifted his hands and started moving them in front of him.

"What's he doing, FRI?" Clint asked, leaning forward and watching the movements. Part of him felt concerned, but there was also something oddly familiar—and unthreatening—about the gestures.

"It appears," FRIDAY began, sounding somewhat amused, "as though he is speaking in Sign Language, Hawkeye."

Clint rested his hands on the desk, only for it to wobble underneath him. He cursed under his breath before standing, folding his arms over his chest. "Why is he using ASL? Can you translate for me?"

"Of course. Actually, he's speaking to you, Mr. Barton."

"To me?" Clint shook his head. "He knows I'm the one in here?"

"That's his best guess, he says. Based on how silent you're being."

Finally giving into his curiosity, Clint pressed the button on the intercom. "What does my silence have to do with anything?"

Nathaniel stopped signing, mid-sentence presumably. The relaxed look he'd had faded and he looked confused. Good, Clint thought.

"Hi, Clint, nice to talk to you, too, you shit-kicker," the kid said playfully, recovering quickly from his lapse. Then he asked, "So, you're not deaf in this 'verse?"

"The fuck?" Clint asked, realizing a minute too late that he had pressed the intercom again. Sighing, he asked, "Why would I be deaf?"

Leaning back against the wall, the kid shrugged. "In most universes, it's from an abusive childhood. There were a couple times, though, when it was the result of an Avenger fight."

Clint scoffed. "Well, my childhood was fine – not that it's any of your fucking business. And there's nothing wrong with my hearing." Okay, so, maybe he had implants to help with some minor hearing loss after Loki attacked New York. Whatever. That did not mean he was deaf, and it definitely wasn't something this kid needed to know.

Nathaniel held his hands up toward the glass defensively. "Okay, be chill. I'm not used to all the differences here."

"Well, don't get too comfy," Clint told him warningly.

The kid saluted, smirking softly. Then he leaned back and closed his eyes again, apparently content to just rest in his cell. That was fine by Clint. He had no desire to interrogate the teen. So they spent the remaining hour in silence.

By the time Hill and Okoye showed up to relieve him, Clint he was more than ready to leave. "Uneventful?" Hill asked.

Clint nodded. As the woman reached for the chair, Clint pointed. "That's a piece of shit." Then he jerked his head toward the mismatched leg of the desk. "So is that."

"We'll be careful," Hill told him with a smirk as she cautiously settled into the untrustworthy chair.

Okoye kicked at the desk, making it wobble. "Perhaps we can see about some other arrangements." The warrior glanced around the sparse room with disdain before leaning back against the wall. Clint figured she could probably stand there the entire four hours without problems, like some amped-up Buckingham Palace guard.

"Hey," the kid's voice made the three of them jerk their heads toward the glass. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. "Any chance I can get something to eat in here?"

Apparently without a second thought, Hill pressed down on the button to speak: "We'll see what we can do."

Nathaniel's eyebrows shot up and he cocked his head to the side in curiosity. He stared at the mirror for a moment, obviously puzzling things through. Finally, he shook his head and looked down. Clint clicked his tongue – apparently, Hill's voice wasn't recognizable. Or maybe the kid just didn't have anything to say to her. But the second that thought entered his mind, it was discarded. If Clint had to guess, he was pretty sure the teen was a rambler. Probably why he was using Stark's technology; the two of them could most likely enjoy, or at least endure, hours of conversation with each other.

"Also," Nathaniel said again, suddenly. "You guys realize there's no bathroom in here, right? I mean, it's not an issue right now, but it will be eventually."

Okoye frowned. Clint mirrored her expression. He actually hadn't even thought about that. Hill merely waved a hand before pressing the intercom again. "See the handle in the corner of the north wall?"

Nathaniel stood up and placed himself in the center of the room, glancing around for a moment, apparently trying to orient himself. With a sigh, Hill decided to be merciful. "To your right."

Clint, Okoye, and Nathaniel all looked at the wall Hill was referencing, where there was indeed something like a small doorknob. The kid walked over and gave it a tug. It opened, revealing a small room. Clint couldn't see in, but he assumed it was some kind of half bath. Nathaniel smiled and closed the door.

"Thank you, Commander Hill," he called out.

Hill turned around and looked at Clint, almost accusatorily. The former agent held his hands up in defense. "I didn't tell him anything! I didn't even know you were on the next watch."

"It's true," FRIDAY said, suddenly coming to Clint's aid. "Nathaniel appears to know a great deal about all the Avengers."

"Too much, if you ask me," Hill muttered under her breath. Okoye smirked, amused, but she gave a curt nod of agreement.

"Okay. FRIDAY, remember to tell Sam about the next shift bringing some food," Clint said as he stretched and turned toward the door. "I'm outta here," he announced, giving a small wave/salute to the women. Hill was staring at the kid through the glass and merely waved a hand behind her head in acknowledgement. Okoye nodded before also focusing her gaze on the window. It fell silent again and Clint was fine with that, content to leave without another word.

*!MCU!*!MCU!*!MCU!*

Rocket scanned the cafeteria, watching the Avengers eat and make polite albeit tense conversation. Everyone was on edge, but that kinda pressure was when Rocket thrived. His ears twitched as he heard a tinny, beeping noise. He looked over and saw Morgan, hunched over with a serious expression as she read the message that was, apparently, on the face of her watch. Suddenly, her head popped up, eyes wide. She gave a sheepish look to the people around her at the table, mumbled something about having to leave, gathered up her crap, then jumped up and tore off across the cafeteria. She stopped only to whisper something to the Wakandan princess, who looked equally frazzled and jumped up in a similar manner to Morgan. The two raced out of the cafeteria without another word or a glance back.

The raccoon's curiosity burned and he considered following them.

But a far more pressing curiosity was niggling at him and that's the one he had to follow.

So Rocket casually stood, threw his garbage away, and made his way over to the seat that the Starkling had recently vacated. As coolly as possible, Rocket slid into the seat, sideways so he could prop his elbow up on the table.

After a few seconds, there was a loud huff from the object of his attention. "If you're just going to stare at me," Loki began, in almost a teasing tone. He glanced down ever so slightly, so he could look toward Rocket. "You'd be better off buying me a drink, first."

Rocket sniggered and reached up to twirl his whiskers. "Trust me," he began, standing and stretching slightly. "If I wanted to woo someone, they would know they were being wooed."

The corner of Loki's mouth curled up the tiniest bit. "Is that so?" he asked as he took a small sip of whatever was in his cup – punch? Soda? Whatever it was, it definitely was not boozey enough for either of them.

Rocket leaned forward to rest his chin in his paws, looking up at Loki with as much innocence as he could muster (which, okay, maybe for him wasn't really all that much, but it was the thought that counted, right?). With another sigh, although this one sounded far more amused than the first—which Rocket counted as a point in his favor—Loki turned so they were looking at each other proper.

"What can I do for you, Rocket?" Loki asked, a smirk playing on his face.

Rocket had to admit, the guy was definitely very pretty. But, this was about business and he had to be professional. "I believe I had mentioned previously," Rocket began, in his most business-y tone, "that I have an interest in magic."

Loki rolled his eyes. "I have spent centuries learning to become a seiðr-master." With a frown, he looked down his nose at the raccoon. "I am not about to just give that kind of knowledge away."

Rocket waved his paws in the air, as if in surrender. "No knowledge sharing needed. All ya gots to do is donate a little bit of excess magic; I know ya got plenty. I have these capsules and the way it works is—"

"No," Loki interrupted.

"But this is for the benefit of everybody!" Rocket argued, bristling immediately. "See, the thing is this: Magic or power or whatever, it's all energy. I collect that energy, and save it. In case of emergencies, y'know?"

Loki's frown deepened. "You are not collecting my magic."

Rocket growled deep in his throat. He slapped the table and looked away. "You're just like Strange – he never listens, either." After a moment of silence, Rocket looked back. There was an odd look on Loki's face and Rocket felt something itching at him – like he'd just stumbled onto something and he need only tug a little bit for it to unravel.

But, Loki's face had softened. And that seemed like a positive, which Rocket didn't want to wreck by digging at something that might push the Trickster away. He would have to tread with caution, to make the conversation lean toward him getting what he wanted. Just as Rocket was about to speak, choosing his words with great care, Loki beat him to it.

"Let me consider your proposal. I will give you my answer in the morning." Normally, Rocket would refuse to be brushed off; he would demand a person just tell him no right then and be done with it. But there was something in the blue-green eyes that seemed so. . . heartfelt, that all Rocket could do was nod.

Loki patted the raccoon's leg and then turned back to his plate, where there was half a breadstick and a chicken wing left. Quickly, Rocket hopped up on the table, snatching the wing off the plate and shoving it in his mouth. Loki chuckled softly, picking at the bread while Rocket sucked the chicken bone dry.

"Strange!" Wanda shouted suddenly, waving her arm.

Rocket turned and snarled at her, as she had yelled right in his ear. She gave him an apologetic look before glancing up, to where the good doctor was standing across from her.

"Yes, Wanda?" Strange asked softly, smiling down at her.

"Did you talk to Sam, about our arrangement?"

"What arrangement?" Rocket interjected, glancing between the two of them.

"For watching the newcomer," Wanda explained. She looked back up at Strange with anticipation.

Rocket turned to look at the doctor but stopped cold when he saw Loki. He was sitting stiff as a board and staring down at his now-empty plate. With a quiet hum, Rocket leaned forward, sniffing the air. He froze when Loki glanced up and met his gaze.

"Holy shit," Rocket muttered under his breath. Loki's eyes widened. And, Rocket noticed, the coloration of his irises was almost completely gone, covered instead by the black of his dilated pupils. The air was heavy with the smell of lust and arousal. Rocket looked from Loki to Strange and back, and a wicked grin spread across his face.

"Yeah, I let him know," Strange was saying. "He said he'll put us on one of tomorrow's mid-morning watches."

"Perfect," Wanda replied, sounding pleased.

"I have to go," Loki announced, suddenly pushing up out of his seat. He tripped over himself as he rushed to stand.

"Watch it, Stilts," Rocket teased, pointing towards the man's lanky legs.

Strange noticed, too, as he reached out to catch the god. They touched for a brief moment and they both pulled away as quickly as it happened, with Loki hurrying out of the cafeteria in silence and Strange watching him go.

But as quickly as the two had broken contact, it wasn't quick enough.

Rocket saw.

So, when Strange said goodbye to Wanda and waved to everyone before heading off down the hall, the raccoon followed him.

And when he went into his room, Rocket knocked on the door. Strange opened it and looked out, confusion on his face before Rocket cleared his throat and the man looked down.

"Rocket," Strange greeted, his voice somewhat stilted. "What do you—"

"There was a spark," Rocket blurted.

The doctor stared down at him, shook his head. "What?"

"You and Loki touched. And there was an actual, literal fucking spark."

The next thing Rocket knew, he was being dragged by the ear into the doctor's room. "You don't know what you saw, okay?" Strange hissed, kneeling down in front of him.

"Oh, ho-ho!" Rocket chortled and rubbed his paws together greedily. "He's the one I smelled on you this morning, isn't he?!"

"Shh!" Strange glared at him.

Rocket gave him an incredulous look, making a show of glancing around the room. "Uh, we're the only ones here, Doc."

"And it better stay that way. You don't know what you're talking about, and you won't say anything about what you think to anyone, right?"

With that, Rocket grinned. He walked over to the bench-seat at the end of Strange's bed and sat down, picking at his teeth. "I believe I now have what we call a bargaining chip, Doctor."

Strange stood up and quirked an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

Rocket rested his paws behind him on either side and leaned back, eyeing the human curiously. After a moment, he jumped down and paced around the room. "Oh, y'know. You got somethin' I want. Now, I've got somethin' you want. Maybe we can help each other out?" He paused, looking over his shoulder to the man.

"Are you trying to bribe me?"

"Blackmail's probably more accurate, but hey – you say tomato. . ." he stopped abruptly, then shook his head. "I forget the rest, but that's not important."

Strange surprised him by letting out a laugh. "You're gonna try to blackmail me?"

"Oh, I'm not tryin' anything. It's happening," Rocket replied, crossing his arms and squaring off against the other. "Now, I'll keep quiet. The price for my silence is just a couple capsules full o' your magic."

"No," Strange said adamantly.

Rocket's jaw dropped. "Seriously? Because I'll tell. I got a big mouth! I really will tell everybody!"

Strange flashed him a cunning smile. "No, you really won't."

"What makes you so sure?"

With a sigh, Strange leaned down again so they were face to face. "I'm still not confirming or denying anything—"

"You don't have to. I saw. And I got other ways of knowing – like the stank that was on you earlier. And the way Loki reacted to you at the table just now." Rocket looked deep into the man's eyes and said, "No ifs, ands, or buts about it. I know."

Strange cocked his head to the side. "The way Loki reacted?"

Rocket threw his head back and let out one of his famous cackles. "Don't act like you don't know!" He looked back at the wizard. "He was ready to jump your bones the second you strolled up."

"Really?" Strange asked, straightening up and looking. . . genuinely surprised. And pleased.

"Shit. You really didn't know. Which means I just helped you, didn't I?" The raccoon ran a paw over his face in exasperation. "Okay, well, never mind. Proof positive. I know what I know, and you're gonna hafta buy my silence." With a second thought, he added, "And since you challenged me, the price just went up. I want double – that's four capsules of your magic. Or, two of yours and two of Loki's, cause I know how you humans are about equality and shit."

Strange's smile returned. It was kind of unnerving. "You can blackmail me all day long, Rocket. But do you really want to blackmail Loki?"

"Uh." Rocket thought for a moment.

"Because, that's what you'd be doing. It'd be his secret, too." Then, with a smirk, Strange added, "Plus, you know, all that equality shit."

Rocket scowled at the magician. And his scowl deepened when he realized the man was right. Rocket might feel confident enough – comfortable, even – in taking on Stephen Strange, the human wizard. But trying to take on Loki, the fucking Frost Giant, God of Chaos, with magic comin' out his yin-yang and a history of a temper and desire for ruling over beings that he considered lesser than him? Yeah, Rocket wasn't touching that with a ten-foot pole.

"Fine," Rocket muttered as he marched toward the door. "I'll leave, but because I'm choosing to." He stopped in the doorway and pointed at Strange. "And I'll keep quiet, for now. But that's only because it'll be way more interesting to see what Thor does to you when he finds out you're fucking his baby brother."

That definitely shut Strange up.

So Rocket sneered deviously at him before he jumped up, opened the door, and exited, having had the last word.

*!MCU!*!MCU!*!MCU!*

Loki wandered around the room – his room, looking at the various pieces of furniture and knick-knacks and decorative items that had been placed there. He took another shower, which was just as heavenly as the one he'd taken the day before. He'd been living 'off the grid' for so long that he'd almost forgotten what actual water pressure—or quality—felt like.

He changed back into a tunic and leggings, opting for comfort rather than trying to fit in with the Midgardians. Then the Trickster made his way out of the bathroom suite into the main room. There was a desk in the corner, where Loki sat himself. He purposely avoided looking at the bed, which sat in the middle of the room.

It looked perfectly comfortable and inviting. And yet, there was something ominous about it. The mere thought of sleep made Loki's skin crawl. Because that always brought nightmares. Memories that could be kept at bay during the day with distractions always came bursting to life at night. Without fail.

Except. . .

Loki shook his head. That couldn't be right.

He wracked his brain. And sure enough, he couldn't recall a single night without nightmares, save for one.

"Strange," he grumbled to himself – meaning both the adjective and man.

How could it be that the only night Loki didn't have a nightmare was the night he spent with Stephen Strange? Loki knew better than to believe in coincidences. Perhaps it was just the fact that he hadn't been sleeping alone? But then again, there had been times when he'd slept in the presence of others – on the ship he snuck aboard to get off the Chitauri planet, or in that weird den of murderers he'd come across in New York just months prior.

In fact, there had been several nights in a row when he hadn't been alone, not even that long ago. He'd helped a mercenary who'd been enhanced so that he apparently couldn't die (a theory that both he and Loki had been way too tempted to test). In exchange for his help, the mage had earned a place to sleep for a few nights. He'd never liked the idea of being indebted to someone and the merc seemed to feel the same way, wanting to repay the favor of getting him out of a bind. Plus, Loki had been grotesquely fascinated with the way the man's amputated limbs grew back.

So, no, it wasn't just the idea of not sleeping on his own that made the nightmares go away. Because even with that merc lying limbless on a couch across from him, Loki had still jolted to alertness from night terrors – which led to him spending the remaining time awake and listening to stories from the other man, who apparently wasn't a fan of sleep either.

In the Avengers Compound, Loki couldn't hold back the fond smile that came when he thought of the masked idiot. He wondered if the man had managed to keep his body parts attached in the months since Loki had seen him last.

Suddenly, Loki wondered if it was the fact that the merc had been injured that made the difference. Maybe it was because when he stayed with Strange, he knew the man was capable of protecting him if needed – but Loki waved that idea away instantly, because of course he didn't need protection. Besides, the thought of sharing a room with Thor or Valkyrie or even someone else who was relatively competent, such as Barnes, didn't quell the hammering in his chest quite the same way as when he thought of the safety and sheer comfort he'd felt with Strange lying next to him.

Closing his eyes, Loki let out a soft breath as he thought back to the night before. He ghosted his fingers across his lips, remembering the other's mouth on his own and the feel of hands wandering his body, and arms around him. . .

Loki shook his head and opened his eyes, clearing his throat as he pulled himself out of the memory.

Finally, he decided that he would just avoid sleep. It was still too early for bed, anyway. Loki reached into his Pocket Dimension and produced two items. One was a gem, which he set on the desk. The other was a plain, black coat of high-quality Asgardian craftsmanship. He decided to work on the coat first.

He tailored the coat, resizing it for a much smaller body. Then, ensuring that the physical pockets remained functional, he located a smaller pocket on the inner lining of the garment and spelled it. That pocket would allow the wearer to access a Pocket Dimension, which would be uniquely tied to the coat. After a bit of toying around with the sorcerery, Loki smiled as he held the coat up, ready to consider it completed. He folded it up and returned it to his own Pocket Dimension for safe-keeping until he could gift it to its new owner the following day.

Next, Loki reached for the gem on the desk. It was a stone he had found in his youth with Thor, on the banks of the River Iving. Despite its frigid temperatures, the river never froze. It wasn't until centuries later that Loki would finally disobey his father's mandate and follow the River – discovering the hidden path between worlds, and providing him with a back-entrance into Jötunheim.

But long before that, when he was still just a boy, he and Thor had only played on the banks of Iving under the close supervision of Odin and Frigga. They'd never dared to go farther than they were allowed and that had been fine, because they were only children then. One day, Loki had dipped his hand into the stream and found a stone. Amazingly, the gem had felt hot in Loki's hand when he had plucked it from the chilled waters. He had shown it to his parents and his mother had asked Odin to bless it in the Roaring Kettle, Hvergelmir – the source of all rivers, and one of three Wells at the base of the World Tree. Odin had done so and returned it to Loki, much to the Trickster's shock and awe.

Even now, the gem burned in Loki's palm. And it twinkled with the magic of the Kettle. Loki squeezed the stone tightly, smiling as he felt the magic of Yggdrasil flowing through it, as a direct result of Odin having dipped it in the great Well all those centuries ago.

Muttering a few ancient words, Loki blew his breath across the stone, casting a spell on it for a certain purpose and infusing some of his own seiðr in it for good measure. It sparkled and shimmered briefly, before fading back to its usual shine – which was still quite magnificent. It should now allow a user to accomplish any medium-sized feat three times. Hopefully, that would be sufficient. With a smile, Loki pocketed the gem to store with the coat for the time being.

Finally out of projects, Loki turned in the chair and stared challengingly at the bed. He yawned, against his own will and scowled. He was tired, especially from the use of his seiðr over the last couple hours. But he knew what lurked in the darkness of night, in the recesses of his mind – and he had no desire to experience that pain, that panic.

That's when he felt it.

"You have got to be joking," Loki muttered aloud. He felt something warm slide over him and had to whip around to make sure he was still alone. The fact that he was actually seemed to be more disconcerting – because it meant that the effect Strange had on him was getting worse.

Or maybe it was getting better.

Before he could convince himself otherwise, Loki decided to let Chaos reign. He stood and left his room, following the pull as it led him down the halls. He knew it was probably a terrible idea. But then again, those had always been his favorite.

*!MCU!*!MCU!*!MCU!*

Bucky surfaced from the chlorinated water with a gasp. He reached up and wiped water from his eyes, shaking his hair out. Apparently, Sam had put him down for an early morning watch over the kid that Carol and the others had brought back. Since sleep wasn't much of a friend, he'd decided to go for a swim.

He dove under, taking another lap across the pool. This time, when he came back up on the other side, he grabbed onto the edge and held himself there for a minute while he caught his breath.

"Not bad, Bucky," Valkyrie's teasing voice made the man jump and he dipped under the water to hide his surprise. When he resurfaced, Val was sitting on the edge, kicking her feet in the water lazily.

"People don't normally sneak up on me," Bucky told her. He drifted over toward her, treading water once he got close enough. "You only managed to because I was underwater."

Val rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Sure, sure."

Then, with a devious grin, Bucky surged forward, grabbing the woman's leg and dragging her into the pool. She let out a yelp as she slipped under. When she came back up, sputtering, she splashed water in the Soldier's face. "You arse!"

Bucky only laughed, leaning so he was floating on his back. "You loved it," he finally said, staring up at the vaulted ceilings of the swimming area.

"I could drown you right now and nobody would know," Valkyrie threatened. But there was no heat to her voice. So Bucky just smiled and closed his eyes, content to keep floating.

Apparently, Val had other ideas. Bucky opened his eyes and looked up into Valkyrie's face with a sigh. "You're blocking my float-path."

"Your float-path?" Val repeated with a snicker. Bucky rolled over, righting himself so he was standing in the water in front of the warrior.

"Yeah, it's like a flight-path, but floating." Bucky told her. When Val raised an eyebrow, the man held his hands up. "It's a thing, I swear!"

"You're an idiot." Val muttered fondly. Then she wrapped her arms around Bucky's neck, lifting her legs to wrap around his midsection, letting him and the water hold her weight. With a soft breath, Bucky put his hands on Val's hips.

"Hi," he said quietly. Their faces were inches apart.

"See?" she whispered. "Idiot." Then she kissed him. He kissed back, moving his hands around her back to hold her more securely. When Val pulled away, she smiled. "I have an idea."

She didn't wait for a response before reaching one arm behind her head and tugging on the string at her neck, untying her bathing suit. Bucky quickly reached his flesh arm up—holding onto her with his stronger metal arm—to keep the suit from falling off as the Valkyrie intended. She pouted.

Bucky licked his lips and took a steadying breath. "What if someone comes in here?"

Val's lip curled up devilishly. "So what if they do?" At Bucky's wide eyes, the Asgardian threw her head back and laughed. Bucky couldn't help smiling, realizing he liked the sound of her laugh as it echoed through the acoustics of the space. "It's getting late. Everybody will be going to bed. No one is coming in here," Val insisted. She dropped her eyes down to where Bucky's hand still rested at her shoulder, holding her suit in place, then she met his gaze again and looked at him expectantly.

"We could have FRIDAY lock the doors?" Bucky suggested.

Valkyrie shrugged. "We could do that. Or not." She grabbed his wrist and gently pulled. He didn't fight her, allowing his hand to be removed from her shoulder. Her swim-top fell immediately after. "I mean, isn't it kind of exciting, knowing that someone could walk in, even if they probably won't?"

Bucky chuckled, moving his hand back down to the woman's waist. He briefly let his eyes trail down to her exposed chest before looking back up at her face. "You're a terrible influence."

"The worst," Val agreed. Bucky only smiled in response before leaning forward to devour her neck.

*!MCU!*!MCU!*!MCU!*

Dr. Strange placed his toothbrush in the medicine cabinet and closed it, flicking off the bathroom light as he stepped out of the en suite. He crossed over to his bed, pulling back the covers. It was a warmer night, so he pulled off the t-shirt he'd been wearing, leaving him just in a pair of sweats. Just when he was leaning forward, ready to all but fall into bed, there was a soft knock on the door.

Stephen leaned his palms on the bed and groaned. Rolling his eyes, he spun on his heel and padded over to the door.

"What?" he growled as the door swung open, half expecting Rocket to be back to pester him. But his gaze immediately softened when he saw who was standing there.

"Is this a bad time?" Loki asked, his eyes wide.

"No," Stephen replied. He shook his head. "Sorry, I just wasn't expecting you."

An odd look, almost like hurt, flashed across Loki's face. He covered it up quickly and tried to sound indifferent as he asked, "Whom were you expecting?"

Stephen gave him a small smile. "Nobody, actually."

With a click of his tongue, Loki half-turned in the doorway so that he was partially facing the hall. "Well, I can go, then, if you'd rather—"

"No!" Stephen immediately hated himself for the urgency in his voice. "I just," he paused to clear his throat. "I mean, no, you don't have to go." In an attempt to collect himself, he moved aside, waving an arm out next to him. "Would you like to come in?"

Loki smiled and stepped through the doorway. Stephen closed the door and then turned back, watching as Loki clasped his hands behind his back and took a few cautious steps into the room. Suddenly, he spun around with a very serious look on his face. "So, about last night."

Stephen stared, wide-eyed. He lifted a hand to his mouth as he let out a nervous little cough, only just then remembering that he was shirtless and that made him feel all too exposed. Loki seemed to notice it right then, as well, because his eyes trailed down from Stephen's face to his chest and abs, dropping down all the way to the floor to notice the doctor's bare feet before flicking that intense gaze back up to meet Stephen's eyes.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Stephen sighed. "Yeah, last night," he began. Although he wasn't entirely sure what to say next, and he was immensely curious about what Loki had to say.

The Trickster took a few steps forward, putting his gazelle legs to good use as he closed the distance between them, stopping mere inches from Stephen's face. "I was wondering if you'd be interested in a repeat performance."

Stephen arched an eyebrow and stared at Loki, waiting for something else or some kind of punchline or something. Then, finally, he asked, "Are you serious?"

Loki did that soft, throaty chuckle that made Stephen's heart flutter. "Very," he purred. He placed a hand on Strange's bare chest, looking at it for a moment before glancing up to peer at him through his eyelashes. "If that's something you'd want, that is."

Without a second thought, Stephen breathed out, "Yes."

A smile spread across Loki's face. And it was a genuine one, the kind that went all the way up to his eyes. Then, leaning forward ever so slightly, Loki whispered, "You can kiss me now."

Stephen let out a breathy laugh. "I could do that."

"I know you can," Loki replied. He smirked before taking the initiative, pressing his lips to Strange's. It was soft but quickly built, until Loki's arms were around Stephen's neck and the Sorcerer wrapped his arms around those slender hips before tugging the mage closer to him. Loki's tongue slid across Stephen's lips, which the doctor was more than happy to oblige, parting his lips so that Silvertongue could work its own particular brand of magic, battling with his own tongue.

When they finally pulled apart, purely out of the necessity to breathe, Stephen pressed his forehead against Loki's. Panting, he asked, "Wait, was that your way of telling me I'm a good kisser?"

Loki leaned back slightly to look at him, his brow furrowed in confusion. Thinking back on their conversation from just before they kissed, Loki laughed. "I suppose so." He leaned forward and pecked Stephen's lips again before pulling away. He took a couple steps backward, grabbing Stephen's hands before they got too far apart. The god gave a small tug and the man willingly followed him over to the bed. Loki sat down, letting the Sorcerer Supreme straddle him. He leaned back against the bed, smiling into the kiss that Stephen pressed to his lips. As the kiss deepened and Stephen settled on top of the Trickster, he couldn't help but smile, too, at the way his own warmth mingled with the oddly cool feeling of Loki's lips. And for a change, the usually-in-control Stephen Strange felt a tingle of madness, of mischief, of chaos.

And he liked it.

*!MCU!*!MCU!*!MCU!*

Cassie hurried down the hall, wearing a hoodie. She kept her hands in her pockets and muttered to herself about her own idiocy. Supper had ended a couple hours ago and she'd immediately gotten into a fight with her dad. They fought all the time anymore, it seemed. She's asked him to see if Sam would let her take one of the watches over the new person they'd talked about. Of course, her dad had refused to even bring it up to Sam. After going around in circles for a bit, he'd finally told her it was for "Avengers only."

So she'd stormed out. To clear her head, Cassie had gone walking outside. She'd gone down to the stables, through the pasture and a wide, open field. She made her way into the trees, past the clearing where they all went to have bonfires. In the safety of the trees, Cassie pulled out the gauntlets from the old suit she and Ava had borrowed from Hank years prior.

For the next hour and a half, she practiced.

She darted through the trees, jumping over stumps and climbing up branches, switching from regular-sized to miniature. There were millions of insects and bugs and arachnids in the forest behind the Compound, and many of them were more than willing to help Cassie maneuver around. A couple ants even seemed like they were sparring with her, as she worked on her hand-to-hand combat skills.

It had been marvelous.

Right up until it wasn't.

When Cassie finally reached the room she shared with Ava, she entered and let out a sigh of relief, slamming the door behind her as she saw her friend sitting on one of the beds, reading. Ava put her book down and looked at Cassie curiously before standing and letting out an exasperated breath. "Please tell me you didn't do something stupid."

"I did not do anything stupid," Cassie repeated. Then, quietly, she added, "On purpose."

"Cass!" Ava exclaimed, stomping her foot. She rushed forward. "Out with it," she insisted, glaring at the brunette.

Cassie rolled her eyes but pulled her hands out of her pockets, revealing what she was hiding. The gauntlets were still attached to her wrists. On one of them, the Quantum particle accelerator was badly damaged.

"What in hell happened?!" Ava asked, pulling the piece of metal off Cassie's wrist with an incredulous look.

"It was an accident," Cassie swore. "I was out in the wooded area, just testing it out and like, practicing some stuff. And I may have, accidentally, sort of. . ." she bit her lip. Ava gave her a look and she sighed. "I pressed a wrong button and kinda threw myself into a tree?" She let out a breathy laugh, then winced.

Ava narrowed her eyes. Clutching the broken accelerator in one hand, she waved the other hand at Cassie in a vague gesture. "Let's see," she ordered. So, Cassie pulled off the hoodie, followed by her t-shirt. Standing in just her jeans and a bra, she turned around to reveal an ugly bruise across her back, wrapping around to parts of her stomach.

Ava gasped and shook her head, her fingers hovering over the black, yellow, and purple skin. Cassie put her shirt back on, gingerly. "I'm fine. It's just a bruise. Maybe a couple of, y'know, rib issues." She held a hand up. "But I'll be fine!"

"Yeah?" Ava asked, apparently not believing her. "And how are you gonna explain that to Scott?"

Cassie arched a brow. "Um, I'm not gonna tell him. Obviously."

"Cassie!" Ava groaned, backing up and dropping down on the bed. She set the accelerator on the comforter and put her head in her hands. "This is why you're not supposed to be doing shit like that!"

With a scoff, Cassie sat on the bed across from Ava. "So what, you agree with him now?"

Ava lifted her head up and stared at her friend disbelievingly. "Now?" she asked. "Cass, I have agreed with him the whole time!"

Cassie jumped to her feet, instantly regretting it as she let out a hiss of pain. She ignored it and glared down at the other girl. "I'm not a little kid!"

"Then don't act like one," Ava shot back, her gaze menacing.

"You're an Avenger. Peter's an Avenger. Hell, Clint's training his kids to fight!"

Ava shook her head. "Yeah, he's training them. Doesn't mean they're actually fighting. And doesn't mean they're ready to fight." Then she sighed and her voice softened. "And I know that you're gonna say that Scott won't even train you, but Scott is not Clint." With another sudden change (which, by now, Cassie had become used to the rollercoaster that was Ava Starr), Ava's anger returned. "And you are not me, nor are you Peter."

"Meaning," Cassie said, sitting back down defeatedly. "I don't have powers. So I'm supposed to just sit on the sidelines."

"Don't twist my words," Ava told her sternly.

"The only 'powers' my dad and Hope have are their suits. But they're Avengers!" Cassie nodded toward the particle accelerator.

Ava picked up the device and held it out to Cassie pointedly. "They're adults, and they obviously know how to use these."

"Oh," Cassie crossed the room, carefully reaching down to pick up the hoodie she'd dropped by the door. "I didn't realize Hank was here."

"Shut it," Ava retorted. "I'm trying to help you, Cass – I'm trying to keep you alive."

"And I'm trying to help everyone!" Cassie all but yelled back. "You heard what people were saying at the meal tonight, Ghost." The brown-haired girl's voice quieted and she looked at her friend sadly. "And you saw how it affected everybody: They're all scared. If something does happen, I don't want to just sit back, helpless, while the people I love put their lives on the line for the whole world. Again."

They stared at each other for a minute before Ava finally let out a huff. "I know."

Cassie scratched her head and glanced toward the Quantum device. "So, you'll help me fix that?"

"You—you're joking, right?" Ava shook her head. "I told you, Hank's already up my arse about the suits and materials. I don't even know how to fix this!"

Cassie stepped forward and pointed to a spot on the device. "I think I can put it back together, if you can get me a new particle container to put in there."

"And more Pym particles, you mean?" Ava added, noting that the device was empty. At Cassie's sheepish look, Ava rolled her eyes. "I really hate you, y'know that?"

A knock on the door made them both jump. Cassie winced again as she quickly sat on the bed, while Ava hurried to tuck the particle device under her pillow before sitting on her own bed. "Come in!" they both called at the same time.

The door opened and Hope peeked in, raising a brow. "Yeah, because nothing about this," she pointed toward the two girls perched on the edge of the beds, "is suspicious at all."

"What's up?" Cassie asked with a smile, hoping she sounded nonchalant.

"Your dad's in bed," the woman told Cassie. "I have guard duty for our mysterious guest in about an hour. Sam and I thought maybe you'd like to join me, Ava?"

"Sure," Ghost replied.

"I was gonna take some supper down to him, if you wanna help me get some stuff together? Then we can head down there." Hope suggested.

Ava nodded, standing and shooting an apologetic look toward Cassie as she made her way over to the door. Once she was there, Hope gave Cassie a conspiratorial smile. "And," she added, "since I know you're dying to find out, why don't you come down with us?"

Cassie leapt to her feet. "Seriously?" she asked, suddenly forgetting all about her bruised ribs.

"Seriously," Hope answered with a laugh.

"Dad's not gonna like it," Cassie stated with a frown.

Hope sighed, but shrugged. "If I invite you now, maybe you'll get it out of your system and save us the hassle of you trying to sneak down there later."

Ava snorted. "She's got you pegged."

Cassie stuck her tongue out and pulled her hoodie on – ready with the pretense that it was chilly in the Compound at night if anybody were to ask. Once she reached the door, Hope held up a hand. "Only to deliver the food, okay? Then, Ava and I are on duty and you're coming back here to go to bed." There was a sternness to her voice that left no room for arguments.

"Okay," Cassie told her with a genuine smile. She couldn't even be mad about the limitations. It was already way more than anyone had trusted her with for as long as she could remember. So she forced her enthusiasm and curiosity to stay on the DL, not wanting to blow the chance that Hope was extending to her.

*!MCU!*!MCU!*!MCU!*

"It's taking forever," Morgan complained loudly into the crook of her elbow. She lifted her head from where she'd laid it on her arms.

After getting the notice on her watch that their calculations had finished running and most of the work they were processing was complete, Morgan and Shuri had bolted to Morgan's lab. They'd checked everything out multiple times and everything seemed ready. All Shuri had to do was connect a few of the devices she'd smuggled in from Wakanda and then get the power sources going.

That was easier said than done.

Because even though everything appeared to be in order and, in theory, should be working, nothing was happening.

The Princess was still standing in the middle of the room, tablet in hand. For the last 45 minutes, the process had been the same: Shuri would type furiously, look up at the body on the table in front of her, glance at the tablet to tap a few buttons, look back up, and wait. Then, with a growl, she would start the cycle over again.

"Don't rush me," Shuri mumbled for the hundredth time. Finally, after she'd waited for something to happen, to no avail, she dropped the tablet and jumped to her feet. She paced around the room, muttering to herself in Wakandan.

With a sigh, Morgan pulled her hulking laptop toward her. She pulled up the figures from her original, hypothetical chart and studied them for a few minutes before crossing the room. The girl paused, looking at the shell of Vision laid out in front of her with a kind of reverence. Sucking in a shuddering breath, she grabbed Shuri's tablet and compared the readouts with the theoretical data she'd come up with. Then, she looked down and groaned.

"You haven't even tried hooking anything up?" Morgan reached for cords that were attached to the capsules – very elegantly pieced together via car jumper cables, courtesy of one Morgan Stark. But Shuri rushed over and slapped Morgan's hand away.

"And we aren't going to hook anything up until we know for sure that it's going to work!"

Morgan rolled her eyes but nodded. Shuri sighed and turned away. "Or," Morgan said softly, a devious grin on her face. "We could just plug it in and see what happens." Then, before Shuri could turn back around and stop her, Morgan connected the cord to the charging base they'd devised.

Shuri swore in Wakandan and reached to unplug the capsules but this time she was stopped by Morgan. "Look," the younger girl whispered, pointing.

Following Morgan's gesture, Shuri's eyes widened to the size of saucers. Where Vision's body had previously been completely unreactive, there was now a red glow encasing him. An alarm started blaring from Shuri's tablet. She snatched it up and tapped a few rapid sequences. Her eyes still hadn't returned to their normal size.

Morgan couldn't blink or look away. She finally managed to close her mouth and swallowed harshly, her throat dry from having had her jaw dropped for so long (which she hadn't even realized).

"It's working." Shuri finally stated, so quietly that Morgan almost didn't hear it.

Before either of them could say anything else, there was a loud noise – something akin to a sonic-boom – and the red glow quickly shifted to gold. A loud whining and whooshing sound filled the space and both girls had to cover their ears.

"Connect you Reactor!" Shuri shouted over the din, nodding toward the device.

Morgan did as she was told, rushing to the desk to grab the Reactor and then hurrying back to stand beside the table. She waved one hand quickly through the now-golden aura of energy, making sure she could actually pass through it and that it wouldn't hurt her. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and tried to calm her mind, forcing her hands to stop shaking. Then, Morgan placed the miniature Reactor in the center of Vision's forehead, in lieu of the Mind Stone.

The roar of noise stopped suddenly and the golden energy blinked out. Morgan and Shuri stared at each other, concern etched on their faces. Just as Shuri opened her mouth to speak, the Reactor started humming and glowing. The light started out as a faint blue but quickly increased in intensity until both girls had to shield their eyes. The entire room lit up and the humming grew to a piercing ringing noise.

There was a crackle of static, followed by the bursting of every lightbulb in the room. Morgan let out a yelp and Shuri dropped to her knees. They both covered their heads with their arms, trying to avoid getting hit by shards of the shattered bulbs. The only light in the lab was from the Reactor, and it was blinding. Morgan couldn't see anything – didn't even know where Shuri was. The ringing noise was so loud, it deceptively made it seem like there was no sound at all. Briefly, Morgan remembered a video she'd watched in school about the atom bomb, how bright it had been and the muffled sound of it exploding before there was just nothingness.

That was the last, morbid thought Morgan had before suddenly being engulfed by darkness and sound disappearing entirely. In fact, Morgan was pretty sure the earth stopped spinning for a solid minute and all she could hear was blood hammering in her ears. Everything was still pitch black, so she put her hand forward, finding the table in front of her to lean on.

Then, breaking through the darkness and the silence, there was a gasping inhale and a single, small pinprick of brilliant white light.

*!MCU!*!MCU!*!MCU!*

a/n 2: CLIFFHANGER. Whaaaaaaaat? Sorry for being mean (except, I'm not actually that sorry, hehe). Quick thanks to AMidnightDreary (AO3) for the line about referring to Loki as "Stilts" bc she totally came up w/ that & then gave me permission to steal it. Go read AMD's stuff, it's excellent.

Also, in case anyone's wondering: The merc Loki talks about here is definitely Deadpool. And yes, I totally wrote in references to Deadpool just in case I decide to bring him into the story later on – not sure yet if I will, but I have no self-control when it comes to my love for DP so I figured I'd throw in the option, should the opportunity presents itself later. :P kkthanks, bye for now loves!

Oh, PS! I just posted a new fic (bc I lack restraint), which is more of an Endgame fix-it and mostly me being salty about how MCU explained time travel. It's up and called "The Sands of Time." I will be working on that one, too, if anybody wants to read it. Check out my works and let me know what you think of that one – it's also super Loki-centric! But FrostIron rather than FrostStrange, bc I am forever torn between the two pairings.