Sorry this took so long! Life's been tough recently, but it's nearly the Easter holidays, so the next update should be much quicker, yay! On the plus side, I also have a new job; double yay!
Love you guys for continuing to read/review/fave/follow this! Cookies and hugs to all (I make gluten-free cookies for those of you who can't have normal ones!).
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Time doesn't make things easier. It doesn't heal and it certainly doesn't help people to forget the pain. What it does do is allow the body to grow used to that awful gnawing feeling in the chest. It allows the person to accept that the pain they're feeling isn't going to go away anytime soon, if ever, and lets the mind slowly come to terms with what the full loss will entail.
Time doesn't heal, but it helps to resign a person to the inevitable.
Life had fallen back into a deceptively normal pattern.
Tony didn't break down again in the same manner, but his bounce had gone. It was noticeable to the others that something had broken in him; there was a distinct lack of snark and witty comebacks, to the extent that the rest of the Avenger's had begun to genuinely miss the sarcasm.
On the plus-side he had solved Evie's sleeping problems by re-opening up the doorway between their rooms that he had closed up a few years previously. She was now happy enough to sleep in her own bed provided they left the door open and she knew that he could hear her if she called.
Weeks slowly rolled by into months. Halloween passed by mostly un-noted – they decided to watch Frankenweenie rather than Trick-or-Treating – and Thanksgiving was the usual food-filled affair. It was Christmas that had Tony really worried.
Usually the weeks leading up to the Big Day were filled with Evie compiling all her favourite drawings and pieces of work to show Loki when he arrived. Not to mention their little tradition of giving the rest of the Avenger's the slip and going out Christmas shopping as just the two of them to find gifts for the trickster. Tony had always liked to imagine that perhaps somewhere in the world Loki was doing the same for them.
This year the piles of school books and walls of art were left untouched. They didn't go out shopping, although Tony did try to argue the case that they should at least see the lights, and Evie refused to help decorate any of the rooms. Christmas just wasn't Christmas this year.
It was obvious just how raw the pain still was when they all sat down on Christmas Eve to watch the Muppet Christmas Carol as per their tradition. Usually Tony and Evie would have vanished at about six o'clock, as they had all the Christmas Eve's past – and now the Avenger's knew why that had been the case – but this time they stayed to watch the film. There was no reason for them to leave; no-one to wait for.
Tony was vaguely paying attention to the film – after all, who couldn't love Michael Cain? – but had kept half an eye on his daughter so noticed that the child was more interested in the clock than the television. She could tell the time by this point and had begun to sniff when it was approaching seven. By quarter-past the front of Tony's T-shirt was wet through.
"Okay, come on, birdie." He stood up, lifting her up with him as she clung tightly. She was still just about small enough for him to carry without putting his back out. Tony left the room and took her into the kitchen so that they wouldn't disturb the others – not that the Avenger's would put a film before the child, but it also gave the two of them some privacy.
"He's not here." Evelyn sobbed, the moment Tony sat her down on the counter-top.
"We knew this was going to happen, Evie."
"But he's not here! He's always here for Christmas! That's what makes it Christmas."
Tony pulled a handful of kitchen-roll from the holder by the sink and gently mopped up his daughter's tears. She sniffled miserably.
It had been extremely difficult for the child to really understand what 'gone' had meant when it came to losing Loki. She was so used to barely seeing him anyway that it took him not showing up on the one day that he was meant to for the message to really go home that he wasn't there anymore.
And whilst nothing could currently bring the missing trickster back to them, a hug went a long way in making the child feel a little bit better.
Evie clung like a limpet, getting Tony's jumper all snotty. He didn't care about the clothing, pulling her close so that she could wind her arms around his neck.
"Hey, you know that we're going to get him back, yeah?"
He didn't get a legible answer in reply, although that was understandable considering how hard she was crying. There wasn't really any way to make the situation any better either. He couldn't magically get Loki back there and then, he couldn't promise to have him back in the next few days and technically he couldn't really promise to find the trickster at all.
As a father it was the feeling of utter hopelessness in the face of his daughter's grief that was the worst part of it all. No parent can cope with seeing their child in pain and not being able to help.
However, one thing he had learnt over the years was that the best way of calming the girl down, whether she was throwing a tantrum, was injured, scared or otherwise was a big hug. He'd read about it when she was a baby; one of those tid-bits that always showed up in child-raising books and on websites. He'd initially discarded it as so much bull-shit until – when Evie was about two or so – he'd run out of all other options in trying to stop her temper tantrum from hell. Surprisingly it had worked and still continued to do so.
When Evelyn had quieted down to the snuffly hiccupping stage Tony gently untangled her arms from around his neck and wiped her nose again.
"Feel a bit better?"
"No."
The inventor smiled sadly. "Yeah, me neither." He brushed the girl's hair out of her face. "You know what? I've got a surprise together on the roof for you, should cheer you up."
Evie rubbed her hands across her eyes to wipe away errant tears. "A surprise? What sort?"
"If I told you, would it still be a surprise?"
She smiled slightly and Tony carefully lifted her down from the counter-top. "Go put your coat on and your wellies, then." He said fondly. "It's gonna be very cold out there. Jarvis?"
"Minus seven centigrade sir, although the wind is low enough for what you have planned. There is a build-up of snow on the roof."
"Great. Okay kiddo, coat, boots, gloves and hat; I'll meet you at the elevator."
As Evie trotted off to fetch the items of clothing – her tears had been almost completely stopped by the promise of a surprise – Tony had Jarvis send his own outdoor clothing up from where he had abandoned it all in the lab.
The elevator took them all the way up to the roof of the tower, and a small portion of Tony's mind tried to remind him that they were going to the place that Loki had once tried to take over the world from. It looked entirely different from that day, all those years ago. Back then it had been a bright summer's day, the tesseract glowing an eerie blue as it happily welcomed an army intent on subjugating the planet.
Now it was dark, snow blanketing the space and more falling lightly. The city spread out before them in a map of lights as their breath hung in the cold air. Evie's hand was in Tony's again as she stared out at the spectacle; the lights of New York City on Christmas Eve.
"It's really pretty."
"It is something, yeah." Tony smiled down at her. "But this isn't the surprise. Remind me; what's your favourite film at the moment?"
The child looked confused at the unusual subject. "Tangled." 'Favourite film' was an understatement since she watched it at least every other day, was word perfect on the songs, owned a Rapunzel dress and had thrown a tantrum when told that she was too young to bleach her hair blonde. "Why?"
Tony reached down and pulled a bag out of the snow. Opening it revealed a cylindrical Chinese lantern similar to those used in the iconic scene from the Disney movie. It had actually been quite hard to find the right shape and he'd ended up shopping in the most secluded corner of China Town before getting hold of the paper construct. Once he'd got it home Jarvis had dutifully scanned it so they had the pattern to hand.
Needless to say, Evelyn's eyes lit up. "A lantern?"
"What do the King and Queen do every year with the lanterns?"
"Release them in memory of the lost – oh!" She stared up at her father in comprehension. "This is for Möhdy?"
"Thought you might like the idea."
The child looked down at the lantern she now held, turning it over in her hands. It had originally been a plain orange, but Tony had painstakingly painted runes around the bottom and top edge in red, which – according to Jarvis at any rate – spelt out the names of their little family. Evie looked back up and smiled.
"Can we light it now?" She asked hopefully.
"That's why we're here." Tony walked over to the small wall that was all that separated him from the plummet down the side of the tower. It was high enough that Evie could only just see over the top of it and had to reach up on tip-toe to be able to see over the edge. Their breath was only just visible in the air amidst the swirling snow as Tony pulled a cigarette lighter out of his pocket – no self-respecting scientist ever goes without, smoker or not. He had to flick it a few times before successfully creating a small flame and lighting the wick.
Evie held the lantern up until it filled with enough hot air to start trying to lift out of her hands.
"Now Jarvis." Tony called out to the ever present AI and as his daughter let go of the lantern the balcony two floors directly below them suddenly lit up.
Thirty or so more of the paper constructs lifted into the air, buffeted by the wind and highlighting the falling snow. They quickly joined Evie's lone original one until it was indistinguishable and the girl clapped her hands together with a squeal of delight. It wasn't an entirely accurate portrayal of the child's favourite scene from Tangled since Tony didn't use quite enough lanterns for that, but it was more than enough.
Amongst the falling snow they looked like stars.
Tony picked his daughter up so that she could see better and the girl waved frantically at the dancing lights.
"Merry Christmas, Möhdy!" She called out and the wind whipped the words away into the night.
MWMWMWMWMWMWM
The atmosphere amongst the group was still…different even after a few months had passed. As much as they were trying to carry on as normal there was no way to go back the happy medium they had once had. Trust is a hard thing to gain and easy to lose and Tony knew that there were cracks in the veneer of trust he had earned from his friends. Most of the time it was as if nothing had changed, and then he'd notice someone staring at Evelyn in a strange way, as if trying to catch a glimpse of her other parent in her actions or looks.
Understandably Clint was the one having the most trouble readjusting to the identity of the child's mother, and whilst doing his very best not to act any differently around her it was obvious to the others that he was struggling. Of course, like hell he would discuss such things.
Well, unless Natasha beat it out of him.
They trained every day, as any athlete would; making the full use of the state-of-the-art gymnasium that took up a full floor of the tower. The normal running machines and such weren't usually used, and instead it was the gymnastics floor and equipment that received the most practice. The setup of the area meant that anything could be utilised in a sparring session. The walls were equipped with various handholds and there was a series of precarious rungs from the ceiling that could – in theory – be used by a person to get from one side of the room to another. So far only Natasha had made it the full way across.
This time saw the two assassins sprawled across the gym mats, exhausted, bruised and – in the case of Clint's nose – bloody. Natasha was on her back, one knee propped up as she stared at the ceiling trying to get her breath back. Clint was lying almost on top of her, his head pillowed on her stomach and his legs tangled in hers. If Tony had walked in on them in such a position there were any number of comments he might have made, but in truth it was simply that they were completely and perfectly comfortable around each other and had no problem with such physicality. Especially since they were both exhausted.
"So." Natasha moved her hand down to rest on the top of Clint's head.
"So?" He tilted his chin up, just enough to look up at her. Of course, from this angle all he could really see were her breasts, but for some reason that didn't seem to dissuade him.
"Talk."
"Did anyone ever tell you that one worded statements don't always get you answers when the recipient doesn't know what the fuck you're on about?"
"Yes. You tell me at least once a day." She glanced down at him with a smile. "But I know it annoys you."
"Too damn right it does." He stretched and examined his bloody nose in a subconscious gesture. "What do you want to talk about?"
"I don't. I want you to talk."
"Nat…"
"No. You've put this off for long enough, Barton!"
Crap. Last names meant she was pissed. The archer sighed and absentmindedly wiped the blood off his hand onto her trouser-leg. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Like hell." She didn't raise her voice, just continued sounding somewhat breathless from the fight. In a way a calm Natasha is even scarier than a shouting one. "Look. After all that shit with the chitauri and the Avengers all those years ago I gave you the chance to simmer down and work out what was going on in your head without ever once bugging you to talk to me about it. I waited for at least two years before asking what had happened and all you said was that 'you didn't want to talk about it'. So I left well alone. When you consistently refused to ever bring up the subject after that I did wonder if it was good for you to bottle up all that shit, but, hey, who am I to tell you what to do? It wasn't like Loki was going to turn up again, was it?"
The sarcasm in her voice when she spoke the last sentence was palpable, and Clint sighed. He felt her hand in his hair again and closed his eyes.
"Nat…"
"No. Not this time. I've let you get away with it for too long already; you need to talk about it."
"About what?! About how Loki made me his little bitch? About how I was a brainless zombie for the guy?" He snapped the questions and felt the little warning tug to his hair that told him to calm down. "Look Nat, this isn't something I want to talk about."
"Well tough. You've had ten years of not talking about it, and now that we might be risking life and limb to rescue the guy I think you need to unbottle everything."
"Unbottle isn't a word."
There was a stream of Russian that he could barely get the gist of but translated to approximately; 'Insult the way I speak your language when you are faultlessly fluent in mine', and he laughed.
"Okay, sorry. But still, I don't know what you want me to say. It sucked, that's about all there is to it."
The Widow's fingers tickled the top of his ear and he squirmed a little, trying to remove the touch. He felt her stomach move underneath his head as she huffed with silent laughter and moved her hand back to playing with his hair.
"There's more than that." She sounded so certain, like she already knew the story and just wanted to hear him confirm it. "I get that you hated being brainwashed, but more happened than that. It wasn't the first time you'd been manipulated onto the wrong side, so I know that he did something else for you to still hate him this much. What did he do to you?"
"Why does it even matter?!"
"Because Tony might need to ask for your help sooner or later, and you're going to have to decide whether or not to assist in rescuing Loki, of all people. So it matters. What did he do to you?" Natasha's voice remained low and non-aggravating.
Stalling for time, Clint shrugged. "What do you think he did? I'm sure you've got tons of theories; let's hear some of them."
"I'm honestly not sure. I thought I could read you like a book, but when it comes to those few days I have no idea what happened to you. Sometimes I wonder if he hurt you, sometimes I wonder if he made you hurt others, sometimes I wonder if he amused himself with you. I truly don't know."
"That's what you think about at night? Huh, no wonder you don't sleep well."
"Then put my mind at ease. Talk to me."
The archer lay silently for a good few minutes, trying to collect his thoughts on the matter. "It's hard to explain." He said finally.
"Try."
His sigh lifted the hair that had stuck to his forehead. "Fine. He was…Well, I guess it would have been a darn sight easier if he had been a torturing bastard. It would be easier to just hate him and be done with it if he'd been fully evil."
"But…?"
"But he wasn't. He was…friendly, for want of a better term." His tone made it clear that this wasn't a good thing. "He seemed to be genuinely pleased with how enthralled Selvig was with the tesseract; seemed happy to listen to the guy babbling on about it. And he would ask my opinion on things. He let me orchestrate the attack on the helicarrier; simply trusted me to sort everything out. Even Shield doesn't just let me do my own thing without at least some guidance. But no, he simply said that he knew I could handle the situation and left it at that."
Clint stared up at the ceiling as if he wanted it to burst into flames. "You'd have thought that bastard would have been all high and mighty considering how he was trying to take over the world and all, but he wasn't and somehow that makes it all worse. Psychotic evil I can handle, but he just wasn't and I still can't get my head around it!" He thumped his fist against the gym mat. "I mean, what kind of World-Dominating-Super-Villain checks for allergies before he gets food for his minions?! Who does that?! And made sure there were adequate sleeping arrangements for everyone and that we all got some sleep. And took an actual fucking interest in our conversations when we were in transit, even when about completely banal things like football!"
"You hate him because he showed his humanity."
"Huh?"
"Well, as you said, you could understand an insane megalomaniac who tortured and killed without thought or mercy, but he showed you that he wasn't all that. That he had a sane, if not pleasant side to him. And that's had you completely flummoxed, so you hate him for it." Natasha said matter-of-factly.
"I…well, yeah, I guess." He sighed irritably. "It doesn't sound like something I should care about when I say it out loud, but it grates. I've never met a bad guy that I couldn't figure out. They either have some terrible sob story and you end up feeling sorry for them, or they're bat-shit insane and you can kill them without giving a damn."
"Loki does have a sob story, according to Stark."
"Yeah, Daddy didn't love him enough and the chitauri weren't very nice. Boo-fucking-hoo, there are millions of people throughout history who've had it worse and didn't try to take over a planet. I just can't get how he could do all that, and yet still pretend to be so bloody nice to us minions."
"Is that what he called you?" Natasha kept her voice soft, like a therapist with her patient.
"No…Selvig said it as a joke and it stuck. That's why I started calling Loki 'boss'." He practically spat the word. "It was a joke, a nickname."
"What did it feel like? Being controlled?"
Clint growled, low in the back of his throat. "It was…Looking back it was the worst thing he could have done! It's exactly why I hate him! It wasn't like any mind-control I could have thought possible. You would think we were brainless zombies, but we weren't. It wasn't like he was really controlling us at all!"
"So what was it like?" Natasha never stopped her fingers moving through her friend's hair, knowing that the gesture would calm him a little.
"He made us want to be friends with him." Clint couldn't have put more loathing into the words if he tried. "It was like our perceptions were flipped but other than that we were completely ourselves. I followed him the same way I would follow Shield; because it felt like it was the right thing to do, like it was my duty. I wanted to work to the best of my ability to achieve his goals because it was like it was suddenly all that mattered to me. And I hate him for that! My mind's never been the best, but I don't let people mess with my loyalties like that! They are mine and I decide who I follow!" He stopped and took a deep breath through his nose, trying to calm himself back down. "So I hate him." He continued finally. "I hate him and I don't want to feel sorry for him with this whole chitauri mess."
"So you do feel sorry for him then?"
"I…I guess so? Y'know, Nat, I'm not even sure what I feel now. I've spent so long hating him, it's gonna be a while before I can be sure I feel anything else."
He felt Natasha pat his cheek and smiled slightly.
"Thank you for telling me."
"Yeah, well, it was probably about time." He turned his head enough to nip one of her fingers affectionately. It was the closest they really came to sentiment.
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Tony was back in the lab once more, sitting infront of his bank of computer screens and staring hopelessly at them. He'd done the same thing for weeks now and still couldn't think. His mind was a complete and utter blank; something that as a genius he had barely encountered before.
"You should take a break from all this."
He glanced up without moving his chin from its rest on his fist. "Hi Spangle."
"I do wish you wouldn't call me stupid names." Steve sighed. His tone was world-weary, but his grin took the edge off.
"But it's far too easy. Capsicle, Spangle, Captain Star-butt. I could go on." The words were the usual Stark abrasiveness, but were delivered with no emotion; he sounded like he was reciting lines from a poorly written script.
The Captain rolled his eyes and pulled one of the stools over to sit down next to his friend.
"What do you want, Steve?" Again, biting words but with such a listless tone of voice they sounded like they were coming from a robot. Tony's chin remained cupped in his hand, his tired eyes never leaving the screens.
"I'm worried about you. You aren't yourself."
The inventor let out a little 'humph' of forced amusement. "Really?"
"Yeah. Really." Steve turned his attention back to the screens his friend was staring so avidly at. On each monitor there was a blurry picture of a galaxy. "Is that where…?" He trailed off awkwardly, but Tony knew what he was talking about.
"I dunno. Closest guess we have." He shrugged listlessly. "Jarvis calculated that he's over 1.07 billion light years away, and as far as our telescopes can tell us, this is the only galaxy at that distance from us. It's called IC 1101 – hasn't even been properly fucking named – and it's in the Serpens constellation. This is the best I've got to go on. Technically he could be anywhere, but this is at least a starting block."
"So…What are you going to do?"
Tony let out a humourless laugh. "No fucking clue." He let his head tip forwards to rest against one of the screens – smearing the display. "I don't have a clue what to do next. Humans don't have a way of seeing that galaxy any better than as a blur, and Asgard aren't really able to give me anything more than what I already have here. I'm stuck. And Tony Stark does not get stuck!"
There was a little whirr next to them as Dummy reached over and tapped Tony on the shoulder in what appeared to be a comforting gesture. The inventor snorted softly and raised his head to smirk at the robot before glancing up at the object that hung on the wall above his work station. The plain wooden staff that Loki had used against the chitauri now hung there as a constant reminder of what Tony was fighting for, looking oddly out of place amongst all the tech surrounding it. He sighed heavily.
"Why are you so set on finding him?" Steve asked quietly.
Tony glanced sideways at the soldier with an exasperated sigh. "What? Besides being hopelessly and utterly and soooo in love with him that I make the Twilight Saga seem plausible?" He asked dryly, voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Yeah. Besides that, Romeo."
"Ooh, get you with making a centuries old reference." Again though, the bite was lost to the caustic sentence. "Well besides that, I'm doing it for Evie. I would have thought that that was obvious."
"She saw him twice a year, there's more to it than that. Sure, you love him, sure you want Evie to have her…uh…'Mum' back, but there's something else, isn't there?" Steve continued ruthlessly.
"And if there is?"
"Just tell me Tony. Talking about these things helps."
The inventor leant back from his desk, spinning his wheely chair around in a full circle, hands up in the air. "Why?! Why does talking help? It's not going to help me work faster, it's not going to help me figure this all out and it's not going to stop me from growing old and eventually dying without solving this!"
"Dying? What the hell Tony? Isn't that a little over-dramatic?"
Tony stopped his chair spinning so that he ended up sitting side-on to Steve, facing out into his lab. "Yeah, but only a little." He said quietly. "I'm fifty one, with a seven year old child. There's shrapnel in my chest, a device that has already nearly succeeded in killing me in the past, a liver shot to hell thanks to my early years of drinking myself unconscious, dangerously high cholesterol and a family history of heart disease. Oh, and did I mention that I happen to spend every other day flying around in a metal suit whilst things shoot at me? Let's do the math here – I'll be lucky to reach my seventies. I kinda want to live to see my little girl grow up, but I have to be realistic, don't I?" He shrugged. "I know that you guys would all be there for her, but Loki and I had always planned that when I'm gone he'd still be here. We'd always planned for her to have at least one parent at any point in her life. I won't live forever, but she will, and that's going to be bloody lonely now that her mum's gone."
"E…Evie will live forever?"
"Yeah, didn't I mention that earlier? Huh, sorry." He certainly didn't sound sorry. "So yeah, she's going to live for ever, losing everyone she knows and loves. Loki was meant to be with her throughout that, to help her. She's not got any of his powers or anything, just his longevity. She doesn't know yet, so please don't say anything."
Steve shook his head. "No…No, of course not." He ran a hand through his hair with a shaky sigh. "I…Well…"
"Stuttering isn't a good look on you, Cap."
"Fucking hell Tony!"
That caught Tony's attention alright. He could count the number of times he'd heard Steve swear on one hand.
"What do you want me to say?" The Captain continued, oblivious of shocking his friend. "You know that the rest of us would do anything for Evie – she'd never be left alone. Thor's immortal, I may well be, Bruce might well be, she'll be fine. You can't really think we'd just leave her." He held up a hand, stopping Tony's response. "But I can see that you're stressed, and tired, and you've hit a dead end that's driving you slowly insane. So stop staring at computer screens, act like a human being and tell me the problem you're having and maybe, just maybe I can help you!"
Tony stared at him, before slowly leaning back and folding his arms. "Finished?"
"Yeah. Yeah I am."
"Good." He spun back to face the screens, almost as if he was wiping the whole conversation out like so much chalk on a board. He had never dealt well with other people's emotions, especially when they were because of him.
"Um…"
"Do you really want to help?"
"Uh, yes?"
"Right, then listen good, because I'm about to put this in layman's terms and expect you to keep up."
Steve nodded, leaning forwards to rest his elbows on his knees. He wasn't entirely sure what planet Tony was currently orbiting, but it could well have something to do with the three espresso mugs sitting on his desk.
"Right, okay." Said overly-caffeinated man tapped on one of the screens. "This, like I said, is IC 1101, and is 1.07 billion light years away. A light year is a fuckton of miles, so essentially he's so far away I can't even say all of the zeroes on the number in one breath. Get me so far?"
"Galaxy far far away, got it."
"Good," Tony smiled slightly. "And nice StarWars reference. There are no other places that we know of that are in the distance parameters so this galaxy is our best bet. Now, aside from the obvious fact that mankind only just got to the moon so fuck knows how we'd get there, there is another very big problem. Big being the appropriate word really, since this is the biggest known galaxy in the universe. And Loki could be anywhere within it. Any planet, moon, asteroid or floating piece of space dust. Which sucks."
"Um…Yeah, just a bit."
"Well, yeah, simply put, I'm well and truly stuck. This is impossible."
"Is there anything I can say to persuade you otherwise?"
"I don't know, Steve." Tony groaned. He turned his head slightly to smile crookedly at his friend. "What would you do, if you were me?"
"I wouldn't have the first clue."
"Yeah, of course. But what would sound sensible to you?"
Steve shrugged, glancing at the photos and equations scattered across the screens. "Why ask me? Wouldn't Bruce have more of an idea?"
"Nah, Bruce knows the limit of the possible. But you, old man, you still haven't quite got to grips with just how much science can do, so you aren't blinkered by preconceived notions of what is and isn't possible." He grinned a little more genuinely now. "So, hit me, what've you got?"
"Uh…" The soldier blinked and stared at the screens again, not having expected this at all. Whilst he had caught up with the major technological advances that had occurred during his hibernation (his face upon seeing the video of the moon landing was something Tony would never forget) he had no real interest in the science behind it all. In his mind it somewhat took the magic away. So when faced with his friend's rather intense and questioning gaze he had to think on his feet.
"Um, I saw on some Discovery Channel documentary that we can now tell if planets could support life, right?" He asked slowly. He saw Tony nod and continued on a little more solidly. "Okay, so if it's possible to scan things in space for – I don't know – atmosphere, water, that sort of thing, then couldn't you do that? Scan this galaxy for planets that could hold life?"
Tony gave him the same smile that he used when his daughter said something cute yet utterly wrong. "That would be a plan, Steve, if it weren't for the fact that we can barely see the galaxy from here, let alone start scanning for life or whatever. We'd be scanning back in time too. It takes light 1.07 billion years to reach us from there, so what we see here-" He indicated at the screens. "-is actually a snapshot billions of years into this galaxy's past."
"Yeah, so? I read that life here supposedly started over 3 billion years ago; so even if you're looking back in time to a planet in that galaxy it would still have a liveable atmosphere, even if the chitauri hadn't evolved on it yet, right?" Steve ploughed on mercilessly, the ideas now flowing a little easier. "Surely a scan would pick up on basic water or oxygen and you could go from there. I mean, I assume the chitauri breathe oxygen, since they coped here well enough without breathing gear as far as I could see."
Tony blinked at him a few times. "Huh."
"Good 'huh' or bad 'huh'?"
The inventor bit the inside of his cheek, a frown drawing his brows together as he seemed to seriously consider what Steve had said, but also entirely missing the small question. "Okay. Say that could work." He began slowly. "There's still the problem of none of our telescopes being able to see in good enough clarity to even begin to do that." He didn't pose it as a counter-argument though; rather he seemed to be expecting the soldier to have a response.
Steve tried to rise to the challenge again, but decided this time that he needed more information for this round. "Why not? What are the problems with our telescopes?"
"Can't get a clear enough sky if we mount them on Earth and can't use a big enough mirror if we put them in space." Tony replied promptly.
That seemed clear enough. To a man who had spent his childhood pre-WW2 making toy telescopes out of card tubes and Dad's shaving mirror he at least understood the principle. "Can't you use a bigger mirror on an Earth based one then?"
"Defects; the surface of said mirror has to be perfect. Like, atomically perfect. A smaller mirror can get away with imperfections, but the bigger it is A) the harder it is to physically make and B) the more the imperfections count. Humans just can't build something like that. We don't have the materials."
"Pretend for a moment that you did. Then what would you do?"
And there it was.
The sudden light that flared in Ironman's eyes as he turned to stare intently at the images of the galaxy again. The light that had been missing for far too long.
"Even if it was possible, there's still the question on where on Earth would we put it? All the best observatory spots are taken." He almost sounded like he was talking to himself now, tapping his chin with one finger.
"Why put it on Earth? Can't it go in space?"
"Not something that big – it'd be a sitting duck for the first asteroid. Unless…" He tilted his head to one side. "Unless…I was to put it far from the asteroid belt. If it were launched from something so far away, so far out in the solar system that….Heh!" He slapped his hand on the desk. "I've just found a use for Pluto!"
Steve snorted softly.
"Infrared spectroscopy could then be used to detect water. And I could tweak it to do the same for oxygen." Tony continued. Then he paused. "Although…this is only theoretical, of course." His metaphorical tail drooped back down again.
There was a whirring noise as Dummy raised it's arm again, this time holding up one of the laminated flash-cards that Tony had made for the various non-vocal bots in the labs.
Why?
"Why what, buddy? Why's all this only theoretical?"
Dummy nodded, making Steve smile at the quirky robot.
"Well, because making all that stuff is impossible. No one can make a mirror that big and how the hell would it get into space anyway."
Dummy ducked down to grab another card. This one made Steve burst out laughing.
You're Tony Stark.
"I can't believe you have a flashcard for that."
The inventor shrugged. "It comes in handy." He turned back to the robot. "And I don't know what you're getting at. Just because I invented a new element doesn't mean that I create the physically impossible and build something like that. The materials don't exist."
Dummy drooped with a little moue of sadness. However, where Tony seemed to be looking at the problem as if it were an impossible mountain to climb, Steve had the opportunity of a fresh mind that wasn't obsessed with the problem.
Sometimes all an impossible conundrum needs is an abstract approach from someone who doesn't understand the reasons of why it's impossible. Which explained why Tony looked like he'd seen a ghost when Steve casually asked:
"Wouldn't the Asgardian's have the means and methods to make a mirror like that?"
Stark stared at him.
Dummy looked up again, before hastily grabbing a card with the Facebook Like sign on it.
"Well, would they?"
"I…" Tony's hand came up to comb through his hair once again. It was rare that someone else's suggestion could floor him in such a manner.
He knew the myths of the Norse Gods and he knew the truth behind them as told by Thor and Loki. There was more to Steve's idea than perhaps Steve had even realised. Mjonir was made from a material that – according to the most state-of-the-art scanners Tony possessed – didn't technically exist. And who the hell knew how Thor's magically appearing armour worked. It certainly wasn't ordinary steel, that was for sure.
"Jarvis…?" Tony sounded like he was dreaming; that sort of far-away slow voice people used when either on the verge of a complete breakthrough or a stroke.
"Sir, Mr Rodgers has a point. There is a lot that we don't know about Asgardian technology. If the mythology is correct then it is more than likely they could have the means to produce such a mirror." Jarvis said quickly. "The ancient stories speak of items magically procured and created that would otherwise be impossible. There is nothing to say that this couldn't also be the case."
"I…Wow…Oh wow."
"Tony?" Steve was beginning to grow concerned at the vacant expression on his friend's face. "You okay?"
"Yeah…" The inventor was staring into the middle-distance, his hands sketching out an invisible object that only he could see. "Oh boy, this could work!"
"What? Really?"
Stark's uncharacteristic stillness became sudden movement as he dived for the interactive computer screen and began to open up multiple programs at once. "Jarvis, get me Thor! Right now! Like, five minutes ago!"
"On it, sir!" Jarvis' voice made it clear that if he had hands he would have saluted.
Tony clapped his hands together with a whoop and spun on his chair to pull Steve into a tight hug. "Captain fucking America! No clue what astrophysics even means and you come up with the best plan yet! I love you man!"
"Uh, great?" The captain managed to laugh in his friend's strangle-hold.
"Thor's on his way down, sir." Jarvis announced triumphantly and Tony cheered again, letting go of Steve to spin round on his chair like a five year old.
"We're going to space, boys!"
MWMWMWMWMWMWMWMW
Of course, things are never that easy.
It took a while to make Thor understand exactly what Tony wanted, since he demanded to know all of the details, which involved an in-depth lecture into the mechanics of telescopes. After a detour around the Hubble website and a high school-level physics lesson the God seemed to grasp the concept and was on-board with the plan. He wasn't entirely certain that Wayland – smith to the Gods – would be able to procure such a mirror, but if not he made it clear that the dwarves could.
By this point Bruce had come down to see what all the fuss was about and had instantly seen both the possibilities and the draw-backs of the whole scheme, but was keen to help out.
Mostly by pointing out what he saw to be an obvious flaw.
"How are you intending to launch a satellite from Pluto?"
Tony just looked at him. "I'm Tony Stark, Brucie. I'll do it."
"Yes, I'm not disputing that. I just want to know how."
"Rocket. May take a few years to get there but I'm pretty certain I can build something to get it there quicker than anything NASA currently has."
Thor looked between the two scientists with his brow furrowed.
"I do not understand your problem." He stated. "We can simply use the Bifrost. The rock you named Pluto is still within the same realm so Heimdall would have no trouble to take us there."
"Huh." Tony looked at the sketchy image of the satellite he'd drawn up quickly and then back to Thor. "That would work. Remind me to get you to tell me how the whole 'realm' thing works again at some point." He added. "Okay, Bifrost, that's a thing. Definitely a thing we can do." He pushed Dummy away as the robot tried to muscle in and add to the drawing. "Can it open anywhere on Earth or is a New Mexico thing only?"
"There is only one access point to each world, I'm afraid, so we would have to go back to the newer of the two Mexico's."
Bruce stifled a snort of amusement at the phrasing, but Tony was scribbling hastily on another scrap piece of paper.
"Right, okay. So you'd have to bring the mirror through in New Mexico, and we'd have to get the finished satellite back there for the Bifrost. Hey, we might as well build the damn thing there."
Steve raised an eyebrow at him. "Is there a facility there where you could do that?"
He inventor grinned and winked at Thor. For a moment the God frowned in confusion, before his expression cleared into a beaming grin.
"Miss Jane Foster!"
"Does she know the situation? Have you told her that you've suddenly gained a niece?"
"No. I wasn't certain how many people you wanted aware of Evelyn's true parentage."
Tony grinned. "Maybe it's time you two caught up then."
MWMWMWMWMWMW
Jane would be the first one to admit that things had been less than usual since Thor had burst into her life all those years ago. Admittedly, that first infatuation had faded away into a deep friendship, but they were still close and still kept in constant contact. Which was why she was somewhat pissed that he was only now deciding to tell her about the events of the past few months, including the return and subsequent loss of his psychotic little brother.
Or not so psychotic, apparently.
She was still working as a Shield consultant, had more funding than the little team knew what to do with, and was almost used to the strange requests her bosses sometimes made regarding extra-terrestrial business. Even so, Thor's appeal probably topped the list she kept of 'weird shit that I really shouldn't have to deal with'. And it was quite a full list already.
However, she wasn't the sort to deny a friend a favour not matter how absurd or difficult, and there was no way that she would pass up on the chance to meet the Tony Stark. So within a week she had coerced some of the Shield lackeys who worked with her as part of their training into clearing out the large warehouse they usually used to store their trucks in and had spoken to NASA to acquire some of the parts that she'd been told her new house-guests would need.
Thank God – or Gods, she doubted all that religious stuff now – that Stark and who-ever he was bringing were making their own accommodation arrangements. A group of Stark Industries people had shown up as soon as the warehouse was ready and converted the upper gantry into a basic living space, and as far as Jane was aware anyone extra would be in the nearby B and B. As long as she didn't have to provide dinner or anything then maybe this situation could provide beneficial. At the very least she'd be able to watch first-hand Tony Stark creating everything from nothing and maybe – just maybe – she might be able to get her hands on some state-of-the-art tech if she played her cards right.
And all for the sake of Thor's homicidal, sociopathic freak of a little brother.
That was the part she wasn't too happy about.
Although, to be fair, Eric was even less happy than she was, so she couldn't really complain.
WMWMWMWMWMWMWMWM
It took two months before everything was ready. The New Mexico facility was suddenly full of crates with the Stark Industries logo along the sides and suddenly there were more Shield personal than usual around the site.
Jane made sure she was there personally to greet her guests when they arrived. Darcy joined her of course, and Eric stopped sulking long enough to want to see Thor despite still hating the reason for all the changes.
The first impression Stark made on the small team was…not what they were expecting.
Rather than a huge convoy of tinted-window super cars they expected, there were just three Jeep hybrids that looked like something Coulson would have once driven. Tony himself was equally smaller than he seemed on TV. Of course, usually they saw him in the suit, but if it weren't for the glow through the smart shirt he wore he would have looked like any other businessman.
However what no one in the small welcoming party expected was the little girl trotting along beside the famous Ironman, holding tight to his hand. Jane hadn't expected the child to be brought along too.
Evelyn Stark was famously kept out of the public eye, everything about her secret and protected. It was a shock to see her alongside her father, although with the amount of Shield agents around there wouldn't be any paparazzi within a two mile radius. She was a normal kid too; none of the designer clothes and shoes that so famously adorned celebrity children, but just a nice shop-bought pair of flowery leggings and a little duffle coat that was obviously chosen for warmth rather than fashion. She was chattering nineteen to the dozen too, but quieted down in favour of shyness when she and her father reached the Foster-team.
"Mr Stark." Jane smiled and held her hand out in greeting. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."
"Likewise Dr Foster." Rather than shaking the proffered hand, Tony high-fived her. "Love your work on Einstein-Rosen bridges and you have my undying friendship for managing to run Thor over twice. Something I have yet to achieve. Although this little one-" Here he ruffled Evie's hair. "-managed to almost suck him into a jet engine by accident."
That drew a muffled snort of laughter from Darcy and Jane grinned. "I wish I'd seen that." She smiled at Evie who shyly returned the expression.
"It's all on the security files; remind me to show you sometime." Tony clapped his hands then rubbed them together. "So, are we all set to make a satellite?"
"Uh, well we've set all your stuff up like you asked."
"Good enough. We dropped Thor off at the Bifrost site with the specs for the mirror we'll need so hopefully he'll be back in a few days with news on how possible it will be." He looked up at the large warehouse. "I've calculated that it's going to take me a year or so to make this thing, I hope you can put up with me for that long."
Jane cast a swift sideways glance to Darcy and grinned. "I'm sure I've put up with worse, Mr Stark."
"Ah, Tony, please. Mr Stark is a stuffy business man; whereas I happen to be an eccentric genius."
"Well, this place is certainly full of eccentricity."
"Capital! We'll get on like a house on fire then!"
The two scientists smiled at each other and this time Tony shook her hand properly.
"First stop, Pluto, the next; another galaxy!"
MWMWMWMWMWMWMWMW
They knew.
He was surprised it had taken them this long to realise, but in retrospect their anatomy was entirely different to his own so maybe it made sense that they had taken a while to work it out.
They knew he could bear children. And now their torturous intent was riddled with morbid curiosity as to what this could mean. Could the chitauri genome be mixed?
For the first time since surrendering, the thoughts of his family didn't provide comfort. With his ruined hands pressed on his slightly swollen stomach Loki wanted nothing more than to die.
No.
The dark hopelessness was almost all encompassing, except for one tiny sliver of white that flashed through his mind. It was hot and angry and would not be squashed.
As much as he wanted to die, there was still a thought that wanted otherwise; a thought that said 'no'.
Hatred.
It can be said that love is the strongest emotion on which all else is hinged, but pure unadulterated hatred can be almost as strong. And as much as Loki wished to end it all he wished for revenge against the beasts that had done this more.
He wasn't going to give in as easily as they wanted. They could break his body as much as they liked but damn them all he wasn't going to let them destroy his mind.
The spell he had cast curled protectively around him, preserving his sanity as he leant back against the rough blood soaked wall and felt the creature inside him move.
MWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWM
Urgh, I had to pull all my old astro-physics work out to remember all the stuff about telescopes. It's times like this where being obsessed with getting details right is really really annoying!
Also, Loki's not looking too great, is he? Do you guys want to see some proper pieces with what's happening to him or are these little snippets better? If I wrote out fuller bits then there would be some full on torture scenes. That's why I'm only showing the highlights, as it were. Anyway, let me know. Torture or no torture?
Ooh; random question! I was having a lovely chat with one of my reviewers and it turns out we live only a few hours apart! I'll admit to automatically assuming that all of you are American unless you tell me otherwise (I don't know why, I'm British myself) so if you leave a review, please add where abouts you're from, I'd love to see what sort of worldwide spread we've got going on here :) Hey, it may turn out we live in the same town or something!