I appear to have broken a considerable number of readers with that last chapter. Sorry…? In other news; I had some of the best reviews ever for that last chapter! You guys made me cry! Genuinely cry. It's humbling just how much some of you love my little scribbles, so thank you so so much!
Warning on this one; it is graphic and a bit nasty. If you don't like torture aftermath or biological gore or blood or body parts or…yeah. Infact, if any of that disturbs you, how did you get this far into the story?
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"Heimdall has found the chitarui!"
The words curled around the tower like an electrical current, Jarvis relaying them to every floor and room.
Only Pepper and Steve were present in the room that Thor had made his grand entry into, the Captain having shielded Pepper from the flying glass. They were joined not a moment later by Clint swinging down through the now-broken window – presumably from the balcony above – and Natasha appearing in the doorway.
Bruce was moments behind the female assassin, Evie alongside him and looking frantic.
"Thor?! That was quick!" Steve recovered first, still brushing glass from his jeans as he stood up to greet the God. "Is Heimdall sure?"
"He's certain." Thor's attention fell on Evie as she stared at him wide-eyed. "And he is also quite certain that we can get there with Tony' plan."
"And that is why I'm called a genius."
Stark appeared in the doorway, out of breath and red in the face. It was quite clear that despite all the medical restrictions he was under he had run all the way up from the labs. He stumbled into the room and slumped onto a sofa, one hand absently rubbing his chest. For once Bruce didn't berate him and simply rested a hand on his back.
"Thor. Tell us everything."
It didn't take long for the God to explain. Heimdall had used the information given to him and had succeeded in extending his gaze far enough to scout the planets.
And one of the smallest had been surrounded by the ships that Tony had seen when he'd briefly glimpsed what was on the other side of the portal all those years ago.
"And Loki? Did he see Loki?!" Stark asked hopefully.
"No sign, but Heimdall was extending his gaze to its utmost, he could only just see the ships."
That made sense, but was disheartening. It would have been helpful to know what sort of condition they would be finding the trickster in. Well, that was the optimistic version of course – in reality it would be helpful to know if they were going to be able to find Loki at all.
No one wanted to mention the 'but what if he's dead?' scenario.
"Right!" Tony clapped his hands together. "Time to go get our friendly neighbourhood psychopathic God back!"
"When you put it like that, it doesn't sound like such a great enterprise." Clint muttered. "So, who's going?"
Bruce jumped in before anyone else could answer that. "Before anything like that is discussed we need to know more. Thor, did Heimdall give you any information about this planet?"
The God had helped himself to a drink from the minibar but nodded enthusiastically at the question, thumping his pint glass back down. "Indeed! I almost forgot!" He fished around inside his breastplate before pulling out a much-folded piece of paper. "It makes no sense to me, but to you or Tony…"
Bruce took the message and sat down on the arm of the sofa so that Tony could peer at it as well. The notes on it had been hastily jotted down by someone obviously not used to using the Latin alphabet and had a very angular look to them. Tony was vividly reminded of Loki's handwriting. The content was…well, it was small wonder Thor hadn't made head nor tail.
There were atmospheric coefficients, pressures, life-form data, weather systems, elemental constituents, gravity, temperatures, everything and anything that someone could possibly need to know about another planet. And all in one unorganised jumble. It seemed that Heimdall had just written it down as and how he saw it, whilst not looking at what he was writing.
"Even my lab notes aren't this bad." Tony grumbled as he tried to make sense of it all.
"That's because you don't bother making any notes." Bruce pointed out a couple of lines of text. "Look, that's going to be bad news."
"Huh." Stark wrinkled his nose up at the paper. "Oh yuck!"
The rest of the group craned forwards. "What is it?!"
"The atmosphere is partly sulphur dioxide. I think about 60% if Heimdall's right here. There is oxygen but that's not going to matter with the levels of SO2. It's toxic."
"There's hydrogen too." Tony pointed out. "Sulphuric acid rain. What a lovely place for a holiday."
Steve frowned. Everyone knew that sulphuric acid was bad news and it didn't take a genius to know that the rescue mission was going to be less than easy thanks to this data.
"What does this mean?" The Captain asked. "Can we still go there or not?"
Bruce scratched the back of his head with a grimace. "Not so much. No. We'd need space suits that NASA could only dream of. And they'd have to be able to withstand the acidic environment as well as the extreme temperatures. I mean, it's completely feasible but would take years to develop."
"Or…" Tony had his chin propped up on one hand, watching Bruce with a fond grin. "Whoever goes wears an Ironman suit. I do have more than one, you know." He glanced around at the others. "What? Did no-one think of that? C'mon! Temperature's no issue, bags of fire-power, own oxygen supply, metal alloy can resist pretty much anything. Duh!"
"Yeah, and did you not notice that you're a…" Steve frowned for a moment as he tried to recall the correct term before continuing ruthlessly. "A shortarse! I can't fit into one of your suits, Thor can't and whilst Banner could I doubt the Hulk would take kindly to being sent to another planet. And Nat is too small to be effective."
"I do not need a suit, my friends." Thor said helpfully. "I will be able to with stand those temperatures, and as long as there is oxygen I will be able to breath; the toxic atmosphere will not affect me."
"What? At all?"
"No. An Aesir can breathe as long as there is oxygen. We are not adversely affected by other elements in the air. Jötnar are the same I believe." The God shrugged slightly at their bemused expressions.
"Well…Remind me to hook you up to some gym equipment when all this is over; I want to know more about that!" Stark said with a grin. "So. One less suit needed then."
"You say one less, but who else would fit one?" Steve asked in exasperation.
Instead of answering, Tony just tilted his head and looked at Clint.
"What…? What?! Me?!" The archer took a step backwards. "Hell no! I'm not going to some planet in the arse end of the universe for that psychopathic creep! No way, no how!"
"Well, I'm not going alone, so someone's going to have to come with me." Tony folded his arms behind the back of his head and stared up at the ceiling.
"You aren't going at all, Tony!" Pepper snapped. "You nearly gave yourself a heart-attack just running up here."
"I'm going."
Steve folded his arms. "No way in hell, Tony!"
"Hell. That's a funny word, Capsicle. Y'see, a good Christian like yourself would consider Hell to be a big fiery pit of damnation." Tony spoke all of this mildly to the ceiling. "However, Thor over there would classify Hel as a person and the place where she lives is cold and icy. But." And here he turned his gaze to glare at the Captain. "But I can tell you this right now that however many interpretations there are of Hell, Loki is currently going through each and every kind plus a few more on the side." He tipped his head back down to look around at them all. "So, yeah. I'm going to go get him out of there. In the suit. Heart failure or no. I'm going to get him out of there."
The words fell into place like slabs of lead. It was the tone of voice that usually said nothing would stop the man short of sticking him in the Hulk's containment room.
"Tony, be reasonable, you've got a kid to think about!"
Evie folded her arms mulishly. "A fourteen year old 'kid' who has learnt to prioritise!" She snapped. "After all these years and all of Dad's hard work I'm not going to stop him from doing the one thing all of this has been leading up to! I want my Möðhy back and if Dad wants to take the risk of going himself, then that's his choice. I may be the spoilt child of a billionaire, but I'm not selfish enough to tell him not to go!" She tossed her head arrogantly and for a brief moment the resemblance between herself and Loki was striking. It was rare to see any sign of the trickster in the child usually – she was all Stark, up until the point that someone pissed her off.
"Evie, be reasonable-" Steve began.
"No! I am done being reasonable! I've spent seven years waiting for this moment and if you think I'm going to let you stop Dad from saving my Möðhy then you've got another thing coming!" For a teenager Evelyn very rarely showed an excess of emotion, and it was certainly the first time she'd actually yelled at any of the Avenger's. "He knows the risks, he knows it's dangerous and he wouldn't be Ironman if he didn't go anyway! That's what heroes do isn't it?!" There were tears in her eyes now as she glared around at them all. "You're meant to save people, no matter who they are! Being a hero is meant to be about doing something even when you know it's stupid or scary or dangerous! Even if you don't like the person you're saving!" That was aimed at Clint and he looked away guiltily. "Earth's mightiest heroes? You all suck!"
"Birdie…" Tony reached out and pulled her into his arms, even though she half-heartedly tried to struggle. "Hey, there's no need to get so upset – it's not like they can stop me anyway."
"But they want to! Do you think Möðhy is so beneath you all that he's not worth saving?!" Evie hissed. "I want my family back! I want Dad to be happy and he won't be happy unless he does this!"
"This is such a bad idea." Steve broke the awkward silence that had fallen over the others. "And you looked scarily like Loki just then, Evie."
The girl glared at him, although half her face was obscured by Tony's arm. "Yeah, funny that. Genetics and shit."
"Don't swear." Tony's response was automatic and half-hearted so was duly ignored.
"Let's put it this way." Evie continued. "Dad, if you bow to peer-pressure I'm not only never ever going to talk to you again, but I'm also going to delete your classic rock collection and replace it with Justin Bieber and One Direction."
The inventor's head shot up and he stared at the rest of the group in horror. "She would as well…"
"Tony, that's not a good enough reason to put yourself in danger! And Evie, stop being selfish!" Steve snapped.
It was a bad move.
Both Stark's had a glare that could solder iron and right now both scowls were concentrated on the super-soldier. The good Captain was suddenly and painfully aware that he had royally put his foot in it.
"You know what?" Tony stood up, one arm still around his daughter's shoulders. "Stuff it! I recognise why you don't want me to go and I do appreciate it, but on the end it is my choice. Against all probability I am a functioning human adult and as such can make my own decisions in life!" Without giving anybody a chance to interrupt he looked up at the ceiling. "Jarvis, deploy the suit."
"You can't just go right now!" Bruce seemed to have given up on stopping his friend from the fool-hardy mission, but obviously still had concerns. "There needs to be a plan, you need to know more about where you're going!"
The Ironman suit walked into the room, interrupting the near-argument. It stopped just behind Tony and he spread it his arms out as it opened up and enfolded him. The face-plate stayed open, however.
"Look, this suit has a separate server for Jarvis, since he lost contact that time I went into deep-space through the portal. He'll keep an eye on my stats and has the authority to take over if he thinks I'm getting too stressed." It spoke volumes of Tony's self-restraint that he was still there and trying to appease his friends. "I'm doing this. Thor and Jarvis will be with me so it's not like I'll be alone."
Clint gave a loud groan that was more effective than any swearing. "Fine, fine, I'll come too. You said you got a spare suit?"
"It's basic; no ammo or flight capabilities and the interface is barely more than the suit stats, but it'll keep you alive on a hostile planet. And has the manoeuvring capability for you to use your bow."
The archer nodded grimly, looking unhappy but accepting at the prospect. "That's fine. I didn't want to learn how to use the damn thing anyway; would take far too long."
Once upon a time Tony might have used that as an opening to make some childish joke about Clint's IQ, but this time he was well aware that too much rested on the Hawk's cooperation.
It didn't take too long for Jarvis to get the second suit up to the main room. It was unpainted – the same silver that the mark II had been on its first test flight – and had an unfinished look that didn't really suit it. Tony's spare arc reactor gleamed in the chest-plate. Jarvis effortlessly fitted it around Clint, even as the man squirmed and complained. Needless to say, Clint wasn't dressed for having an Ironman suit suddenly shoved on him, but Tony had perfected a lot over the years and it was more comfortable than the early versions would have been.
"I really don't like this!" The archer's voice was muffled by the faceplate.
"Tough." Tony grinned at him. "Right. Thor, you give Legolas a lift, we'll get to the Bifrost site and then see if Heimdall's listening."
"Tony…" Steve looked like he was going to protest again, before his shoulder's sagged with a sigh. "Be careful, okay?"
Stark looked for a moment like he might have had a sarcastic remark to make, but bit it back in favour of reaching out to shake the soldier's hand instead. Banner clapped him on the back with a murmur about his health before stepping back to let Evie hug her father.
It was uncomfortable to try and hug the Ironman suit, but the girl did so anyway and Tony pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"You'll be okay, right?" Sometimes it was easy to forget that as old as she acted, she really was still just a kid.
"I'll be fine." Tony ruffled her hair. "And remember; when you next see me we'll either have Loki back or know what happened to him."
Evelyn's expression hardened. "Give the chitauri hell, Dad."
"They won't know what hit them."
"And…and be careful."
"Alien hostile planet on the other side of the universe. What could possibly go wrong?"
The joke fell flat.
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The flight to the Bifrost site in New Mexico was short – considering how quickly Thor and Tony could fly – and quiet. They had agreed on radio silence. After all; there was no way they'd be able to communicate once in Asgard and beyond anyway so drawing it out seemed pointless. Needless to say it wouldn't have been the call Fury would have made, but since the Director hadn't even been informed of the developments yet it wasn't an issue.
Tony hadn't wanted to draw out the farewells with his daughter either. It had been hard to leave her standing on the balcony with the others; for all of her fourteen years she had looked so small and forlorn. She hadn't asked him to promise to return with Loki; she knew that that was a promise he couldn't necessarily keep, but she had asked for him to come back safely.
That was one oath he was certain to try and uphold.
Once they reached the site and Thor had put Clint down – the archer was not happy to say the least – the two humans took a step back as the thunder God called for the portal to open.
The journey through the Bifrost was as Tony remembered it. All lights and colours and so bright that he didn't dare open his eyes throughout the experience. He could only hope that Clint had done the same since he really didn't want to end up on an alien planet with a blind archer. To be fair though – he didn't really think all that hard about it. Mostly his head was filled with one thought:
Going to find Loki. Going to find Loki. Going to find Loki…
It was one thought, but drew a bag of emotions behind it like a comets tail. Fear, pain, excitement, horror, anxiety and so much hope.
No matter how much he tried to logically reason that hope was only going to hurt him, the damn little thing refused to stop fluttering away there, just above the arc reactor. It was, quite frankly, annoying.
The Bifrost trip was as quick as he remembered it being the last time and was prepared for the way the solid ground suddenly appeared under his feet. Next to him Clint staggered sideways and Tony caught him before the disorientated archer fell over.
"That wasn't fun. Not doing that ag…Oh. Wow."
Barton pushed Tony's arm off of his shoulder, already distracted by their surroundings. They were in what Tony could only assume was the observatory Thor had spoken of – a grand room of gold that rose into a dome over their heads. There were carvings along every surface, but his attention couldn't focus on them; his gaze drawn to the two men standing on the raised dais in the middle.
One looked like an Asgardian version of Nick Fury, complete with the permanent scowl that was currently fixed on the two humans. He held Loki's sceptre in one hand and the familiar blue glow of the tesseract was visible in the other. Tony could only assume that this was the mysterious Heimdall they had heard so much about.
However, as fearsome and imposing as the gatesman was, he was nothing compared to the man beside him.
They didn't need to see Thor bowing to know that this was the King of Asgard himself.
Odin.
"Father. I have brought with me Clint Barton, also known as Hawkeye. And Tony Stark, known as Ironman and-"
"I know well who Tony Stark is." The voice gave nothing away. Neither did Odin's expression as he stepped down from the platform, gazing steadily at the inventor. He could have just as easily been impressed with Tony as wanting to kill him.
"Um…" It wasn't often that Tony was lost for words but being personally addressed by the king of the Gods can have that effect on someone. He did at least flick the suits face-plate up, though, so that they could talk face-to-face.
"I have heard much of you, Anthony Stark." Odin didn't necessarily make that sound like a good thing. "You with the metal heart, and yet nevertheless willing to sacrifice yourself for the good of your planet."
Tony was proud of himself that he stood his ground as the king neared him, rather than stumbling back like he wanted to. Clint and Thor were being useless; the God merely watching his father and the archer keeping his own face-plate down.
"And, of course, your dealings with my sons. Most especially my youngest." And still Odin wasn't giving any hint as to whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. "I understand from Thor that you had gone a long way in helping Loki return somewhat to his former self."
"I…uh…don't know about that, sir. I think he did most of it himself. I was really only there for the sex to begin with." When stressed his brain-to-mouth filter really didn't work, and Tony visibly winced as he realised what he had just said.
As it was, Odin actually smiled. "Yes, well, I've known a good many relationships to start off that way. Loki's have historically never worked out, but your dedication so far may have broken that record."
"Having a kid helped."
"Yes, I heard." And then there was a…look on the old God's face. It was similar to the one Loki would wear when thinking about his daughter; longing. "How is Evelyn?"
It struck Tony that as much as Loki had not wanted his once-parents to have any part in their child's life, Odin still considered himself to be a grandfather. "Um...She's fine. Worried, obviously, but essentially fine."
"That is good to hear." And there was that look again. "I imagine she misses Loki very much."
"Uh, yeah. He's a good parent, you know." The inventor sounded defensive and Odin smiled slightly again.
"Yes, I know. Does Evelyn possess magic?"
"No. Loki said he thinks she's immortal, but other than that she's just a normal kid. Well, an extremely smart normal kid. Not blue in the least. I think Loki was disappointed by that." That was something Tony hadn't shared with Thor either and both God's looked taken aback by the off-hand comment.
"Loki is at peace with his heritage?" Thor asked it like it was something impossible. To him, maybe it was.
"Well, yeah. He's still not happy about how he found out, but last time we spoke of it he seemed pretty okay with being blue."
Odin looked rather startled at that news; he obviously had assumed Loki was still a writhing ball of self-loathing when it came to what Tony had termed 'the Jötunn thing'. Then the surprise was over-come with something that was far less expected on the face of the King of the Gods.
Guilt.
Real guilt. It was only a brief spark, but it crawled through Odin's single eye like a flash of wild-fire that burnt up everything in its path. Guilt, remorse and maybe even a little bit of shame as well.
"I will admit that perhaps mistakes were made concerning Loki's heritage…" The old God began. He held up a hand as Tony took a deep breath, ready to unleash hell at that thoughtless comment. "And I will acknowledge that those mistakes were mine and mine alone. Loki's actions were caused by my faults and my errors in raising him. I recognise that now."
"Bit late for that, isn't it?" Tony couldn't have stopped himself if he'd wanted to, and he really didn't want to. Thor glanced at him askance.
"Tony-!"
"No, Thor. He is correct." Odin's reply was acerbic as he cut across the younger God, although his gaze never left Tony's face. "The world always appears clearer in hindsight and there are things that I see now should not have been allowed to occur. If nothing else Loki should have been far more secure of his place within our family so that the revelation of his heritage – given in a timely fashion in a controlled environment – would cause far less consternation."
"Raising him to believe that Frost Giants are monsters wasn't such a smart move either."
Odin's gaze hardened. "Indeed. I think I am beginning to see why Loki was drawn to you, Mr Stark. You simply do not know when to hold your tongue." He didn't make it sound at all like a virtue. "However, seven years is an extremely long time for a mortal to spend looking for one person. Maybe he saw that in you too." And then the hardness in his eye vanished, replaced with something a lot more painful. "Thank you, Tony Stark, for being who and what Loki needed, when he needed you to be. If it wasn't for you, we would have no hope of retrieving him at all."
"I…thanks?" It was, admittedly, the last thing Tony had expected, especially since he had thought Odin was about to spear him through there and then. "Wait, we?"
Any and all emotion the King had just showed vanished back behind the indifferent façade of royalty. "I will not sit idly by whilst my youngest son is either dead or dying. Queen Frigga has the throne and Asgard will be safe in her capable hands until our return."
"Father! You can't-"
"Do not tell me what I can and cannot do, Thor!" And now Odin really did raise his voice. Thor was looking horrified and even Heimdall seemed shocked at the thought of the king leaving. "I have made enough mistakes in the past; it's about high time I started trying to atone for them! That is my son out there and I am getting him back!"
There was something in the tone of voice, in the desperation there that rang true with Tony somehow.
In those few words he saw deeper into Odin than either Thor or Clint ever could. It wasn't Odin the King of Asgard coming with them; it was Odin the Father. Tony could relate to that. He still had nightmares where the chitauri had taken Evie with them as they had threatened; where he spent his dreams feverishly searching for her to no avail. But he always had the relief of waking up each morning and knowing that his child was safe. Odin didn't.
After so many years with the Avengers Tony was well aware that family needn't be bound by blood. Odin had raised Loki from a baby – he considered the trickster his son and was as much his father as he was Thor's. And as a father he was bound by the knowledge that he had utterly failed his son, and did not even have the means to save him when he realised his mistakes.
Suddenly Odin really wasn't as intimidating as he had first seemed.
Thor was still ranting about how Asgard needed her king when Tony turned to him.
"Thor, shut your cakehole, your Dad's coming with us."
"But Stark-!"
"I think the King of Asgard has more say than the Prince does. King does still outrank Prince here, right?" Tony glanced at Heimdall to receive a bemused nod in response. "If he wants to come I don't think any of us can say otherwise."
"Well spoken, Mr Stark." Odin cast a very parental gaze at Thor, usually the one he had reserved for when the Thunder God had been having a particularly dense day as a child.
"My King, I cannot agree with this course of action-"
"It is neither your place to agree or disagree, Heimdall, but simply to do as I say." The King struck the butt of Gungnir on the ground. "Open the Bifrost, we are going to retrieve my son."
"Of course, my King." Without further ado Heimdall brandished Loki's sceptre and thrust it firmly into the pedestal where his own sword usually sat.
Clint and Tony shrank together as the room around them began to spin, the carvings on the wall blurring together until it was just a golden sheen. The three Aesir didn't seem fazed, although that was only to be expected, and Heimdall had his gaze focussed on the far wall where the glow of the Bifrost appeared and began forming into a portal similar to the one that had opened over New York – only smaller and vertical.
"The planet they are on is small and unable to truly sustain life." The Gatesman intoned. "The chitauri mostly live upon their ships in orbit around it, and although there is a single cluster of buildings on the planet's surface I am finding little to no life signatures there. I thought it wise to send you there to begin with since it seems unlikely that you will run into trouble. If you cannot find what you seek then it is likely that you will need to search the ships. By that time the chitauri will be alerted to your presence." Heimdall's stoic gaze flickered away from the portal to Odin. "Sire, I cannot leave the Bifrost open, and you must be clear for me to retrieve you all."
There was shared knowledge in the look between the two elder Gods. Tony – king of power plays and board-room psychiatry – could see the understanding that flashed between them. Here were two people who knew each other inside out and trusted each other implicitly and had done so for a great many years.
It explained why Odin merely nodded at the instruction and turned back to gaze at the growing portal. The air around them flushed blue as the tesseract was brought into close proximity with the sceptre and even wearing an Ironman suit it was possible to see Clint stiffen up. The stars through the portal swirled angrily then blurred.
To a sci-fi nut like Tony it looked like jumping through hyperspace.
His heart was thumping in his chest again, almost painfully as a harsh wind swept around them. Beside him Thor's hair and cloak were streaming, the God readying himself with Mjolnir in hand. He looked as nervous and worried as Tony felt, which went a little way to making the inventor feel better.
This was it.
Their run against the Deathstar, their climb up Mount Doom, their duel with Voldemort.
Seven years had brought them to this point; standing on the edge of a portal, battle ready and staring into the depths of the universe.
There was a flicker, a brief glimpse of an otherworldly building and Tony heard – barely audible above the gale now blowing – Heimdall bellow: "Go!"
They leapt.
Tony found Clint's arm and grabbed hold, the sudden wild fear of being separated forefront in his mind as the deep darkness sucked them in. It was nothing like their initial journey through the Bifrost; no lights or flashing this time, just pure darkness.
It was impossible to see anything, even the others within the small group. The HUD inside both Ironman suits was flickering wildly although if any alarms were going off it was impossible to tell. The noise around them was horrendous – a shrieking wail that, if it weren't for the fact that they were in deep space, could have been called wind.
Clint's hand had found Tony's arm in response to the inventor's own vice-like grip, so that the two of them at least knew where the other was even if they couldn't see.
It was impossible to know how long it took before the blackness suddenly opened up into a dark and gloomy vista of sharp rock and hard ground coming towards them at speed.
Tony and Clint hit first, slamming into the rock and dirt and tumbling over like they'd been thrown into a washing machine. They skidded to a halt up against a large boulder, too shocked and battered to move.
Thor was hurled into them not a moment later, landing half across Barton who in turn was already on top of Tony.
Something felt like it had cracked in the chest plate.
Stark had envisioned this moment for so many years now, and it had almost always been with a sense of awe as he set foot on a planet so far away that it's very galaxy could barely be seen from Earth. What he hadn't ever imagined was a crash landing that took the wind out of him so badly that it felt like someone had shot an arrow through his chest.
The pressure on him eased slightly as his two fellow Avengers slowly rose to their feet but the display in his HUD flickered warnings at him as he tried to move.
"Sir, I would advise you lay still for a few moments longer." Jarvis sounded tinny, but otherwise like his normal self – the external server was working like a charm.
"Why? I'm fine I just oof-" Tony tried to at least sit up, but a deep stab of pain across his chest stopped him dead.
"Please don't move, sir!"
"Hey, Tony, what's wrong?!" Clint leant over him, voice full of concern even if his face wasn't visible. "Jarvis is telling me not to let you get up."
"I know. Is my chest plate okay? Feels like a goddamn knife has gone through it!"
He felt metal hands against the armour in question before Clint looked back up at him. "Looks fine, scuffed, but everything's scuffed."
That wasn't good news. Tony wanted nothing more than to flick his visor up and breathe properly, but knew that was suicide with the concentration of sulphur dioxide. Instead he settled for lying still and trying to calm down.
"Jarvis, what's happened? Has the suit malfunctioned?"
"No, sir. Your blood pressure has risen worryingly and is causing significant cardiac stress that-"
"Am I going to have a heart attack?"
There was a pause and he felt a curious warm sensation from around the arc reactor.
"No, sir. I have momentarily taken control of the arc reactor and am using it as a pace maker. You should be alright in a moment or so."
"Uh, thanks." Tony could feel the pain ebbing a little now and gingerly tried sitting up. He could see Thor and Odin now as well, standing behind Clint and looking worried.
"I would strongly recommend that you wait here for the others to return, but you won't do that, so I will refrain from suggesting it."
"You know me too well, Jarvis." The man accepted Barton's hand and was hauled to his feet. "Right, I'm good, I'm okay."
Thor took a worried step forwards. "You do not seem okay."
"I'm fine, trust me." Tony looked around at the other three. "Enough about me, is everyone else in one piece?"
There were the expected scuffs and scrapes – mostly suffered by Clint – but other than that they were mostly fine. Thor swung Mjolnir experimentally and frowned down at it.
"There is something wrong about this place – she is not responding as her usual self." His breath curled in wisps in the cold air.
"There is something repressing magic here." Odin was frowning at his spear, running his fingers over the blade. "It must be how they are containing Loki." With what appeared to be some effort he caused lightning to crackle around the staff. "My own powers are seriously limited."
Tony raised a sceptical eye-brow, although no one could see it. "Loki couldn't use his magic at all around their technology. How come you still can?"
"Do not forget that Loki – as much as he is my son – is a different species to Thor or I. Our powers work in similar ways, but not exactly the same."
That made sense. Tony nodded his understanding, already wondering how badly this could affect their progress.
"So, shall we get started?" He rubbed his hand across the metal covering his chest once more as there was another twinge, but the warnings did flare again so he breathed easier and – for the first time – looked around at their surroundings. "Oh. Wow."
He remembered that moment when he had stepped onto Pluto and had been aware of just how alien that world was. This was even more.
There weren't words to describe how it was to stand on solid rock, and yet know that home was so far away as to be unthinkable. The human mind – even one as extraordinary as Tony's – struggled to comprehend just how lonely there were on this forbidding hunk of rock.
It was ugly too. All black, sharp granite and harsh angles. They were far from the sun that the planet orbited, so much so that little to no natural light was reaching them and the immediate vicinity was better lit by Tony and Clint's suits. Far above them, floating like some sort of sentient clouds, were ships similar to those Tony had glimpsed through the portal over New York. Even without the chitauri presence it was a horrible and forbidding place.
They were only a few yards from the building that Heimdall had mentioned, although it didn't look like any type of building the two humans had ever seen before. Seemingly grown out of the ground it seemed almost organic in nature – if rock could be considered living. If anything it was sharply reminiscent of bubbling lava that had cooled mid-bubble. A rough-cut entranceway was the only indication that the place was accessible – there were no windows or other ways in which light could enter.
"So. We crashed pretty hard – why has no-one noticed us?" Clint was the first to mention the obvious.
"I dunno. Maybe they don't expect anyone to know they're out here?" The excuse sounded lame even to Tony's ears.
"This place seems deserted. Maybe they have left for the ships." Thor sounded uncertain, glancing towards his father for answers.
Odin was glaring at the strange building as if it had personally offended him. At Thor's words he hefted Gungnir. "No matter. We start our search here then move out if we find nothing." His voice was that of someone who had led countless armies and seen infinite battles. He took command with the ease of true royalty. For once Tony was actually glad to have someone giving the orders. He was far too worried about what they were going to find to want to think about strategy.
However, strategy seemed to mean something different to Aesir.
The Avengers had remarked before how Thor simply threw himself into a fight without thinking and had attributed that to his brash personality. It seemed that actually it was an inherited trait. Odin ordered them into what Steve usually labelled an arrowhead formation and set off towards the entrance to the structure.
Jarvis was busy scanning the immediate area for anything that could be deemed a life form, although it was hard to know what counted. Chitauri didn't radiate heat like a mammal and had no discernible pulse so it was hard to get a good idea of how many – if any at all – there were in the vicinity.
The scan didn't find anything that could be attributed to a Jötunn, although Tony told himself that that was because the area was too large.
It was…surprising inside.
The logical thought, considering what the outside was like, was to expect dark slimy tunnels of rough-cut rock. It wasn't at all like that, though, which rather put everyone onto the wrong foot.
Yes, it was dark. There were a type of strip lining the ceiling that may have once been lights, but the place had an abandoned feeling to it, and nothing was illuminating it save the Ironman suits. In complete contrast to the exterior of rock, the corridor they entered wouldn't have looked out of place on Earth – especially on the set of a sci-fi show.
It had a built look to it; straight walls, tiled floor, plastered ceiling. There were symbols every now and then, most likely the chitauri language. They were somewhat similar to the signs found in the old Aztec codices; extremely stylised hieroglyphs that meant nothing to the four people that passed them.
"This is weird." Clint's mechanised voice echoed oddly in the silent hallway. "I thought it would be like Alien or something. All gross and dripping and shit. This is…" They passed a bay that held what looked like a smashed fish tank, although whatever it had once held was long gone. "Clinical. It's clinical."
Everything was a uniform shade of grey, and it was beginning to grate on the humans nerves as the four slowly moved deeper into the complex.
"This is a terrible place." Thor said quietly. It was an odd thing to say; there was nothing outwardly wrong that could be seen. Just never ending corridor.
"Feels like an abandoned mental hospital" Tony muttered. It had the same broken and antagonised sense to it that was often found in such places where pain and misery had sunk deep into the stones. He glanced at Clint. "You know those ghost hunting shows? It's like one of those episodes where they visit an old psych ward that still has all the electro shock stuff wired up."
Odin didn't contribute to the conversation, but held up a hand to silence them as they came to what looked like an intersection between their hall and three others.
"Something is coming." The king said quietly. He pointed the direction with Gungnir and at his insistence the three behind him slunk back to conceal themselves behind the corners of the intersection.
"The hell? I thought this place was deserted!" Clint snarled. He strung an arrow in his bow, but didn't raise it, watching Odin instead.
"Yeah, well looks like Heim-a-thingy was wrong, doesn't it!" Tony hissed back.
The steps drew nearer and Odin hefted his spear in one hand. From his angle the elder God had no way of seeing the oncoming person but his single eye narrowed as he calculated the distance from the sound alone. Without warning he went from statue stillness to a blur of motion and the blade of the spear swung up to catch the passing chitauri by the throat and pin it against the wall.
The alien wasn't given time to struggle or even really process what had just happened before the blade was gone and the king's hand replaced it, pressing the creature into the wall. It looked slightly different from those that had attacked Earth – lacking the armour they had worn and therefore looking a lot less bulky.
"Where is the prisoner?!" Odin snarled at it. The chitauri didn't have a face recognisable enough for human expression, but the wheeze it gave spoke well enough of its shock and fear. Odin shook it by its neck and slammed it back against the wall so that its head thumped heavily and it let out a crackle of pain. "The prisoner, the Jötunn! Where?!"
"P-p-prisoner?"
"Yes, the prisoner! Loki, where is he?!"
"D-dead. He's dead." The chitauri managed to wheeze out. "Who are-?"
But Odin snarled and thumped his fist through the creatures head until it hit the plaster behind. He withdrew his hand and let the body slide to the floor.
Tony didn't notice.
Dead. That thing had said Loki was dead.
He stared blankly at the wall, the word echoing dully through his head. Yeah, they'd always believed it, but to have it confirmed so casually…
He didn't feel his back hit the wall behind him, or realise that he slid down it to sit slumped on the floor.
It had said it so casually, as if the news couldn't possibly be all that important to anyone. "He's dead." So…so damn easily. Such news should have been heralded by a roll of thunder, a deep rumble of drums, something. Not just thrown out there like that.
He'd known all along that Loki was more than likely gone. But it still hurt more than should have been possible to hear it. The pain in his chest was back, but this time had nothing to do with his medical problems.
"Tony?" A gauntleted hand was held out infront of him, Clint's voice sounding uncharacteristically gentle.
He looked up, feeling dazed. It was like being winded – his hearing was fuzzy around the edges. Clint was looking down at him and his voice had been layered with concern. Behind him Odin was still staring at the body whilst Thor ranted.
"-Will not believe it! We must go on!" The blonde God slammed his fist against the nearest wall, making a sizable dent. "I want proof before I will believe my brother to be dead!"
"Thor…" Tony's voice had an odd croak to it and he realised he didn't actually know what he wanted to say.
"I believed him to be dead before, and that mistake nearly cost us everything! I will not do that again!"
"Thor." Odin's stern voice had the effect that Tony's wobbly one didn't, and the thunder God abruptly fell silent, glowering down at the dead chitauri. There was a suspicious glitter to his eyes, and he quickly rubbed his hand over his face.
"We go on." The King said. "We go on and we find him. Whatever has happened, whatever state he is now in, we find him. If he is alive we take him home, if he truly is dead we don't rest until we recover his body. Understand?"
Thor nodded angrily, and Tony took a shaky breath in.
Yeah, they'd find him. He felt the dizziness recede, even though the pain didn't. If nothing else he desperately didn't want to have to bring Evie to her mother's funeral.
Find him, find him, find him.
Odin gestured and they followed, setting off again down the corridor that the chitauri had come from. Thor was a bundle of angry energy, hand gripping mjolnir like the thing was about to explode. And maybe it was – it did feed off of his aura after all.
They walked for possibly half an hour down the deserted halls, taking random turnings whenever they reached an intersection. Odin naturally led the way and under the circumstances the other three were more than happy to let him do so. Two more chitauri met their fate at the end of the king's fist, and one under Thor's hammer, but so far they were still only getting one answer to Loki's whereabouts;
Dead.
Gone.
Destroyed.
The last one had been pretty horrendous, cackling with laughter. Clint had actually been the one person to deal with that one – not even bothering with an arrow and simply smashing the end of his bow into its eye-socket and twisting before slowly drilling back into its skull. No-body deemed it over kill.
And then they found hell.
The room was through a set of two-way double doors, fairly large and the same clinical sterility of the corridors. It was, however, quite crowded.
"What the fuck is this place?" Clint whispered. It spoke volumes that even the hardened assassin was weirded out.
There was a table in the centre of the room – they would have said steel were they not on an alien planet – hard and cold with straps and buckles in strategic places that were obviously designed to secure someone down to it. There were grooves cut into the smooth surface, channels that ran down into what appeared to be the chitauri equivalent of demijohns.
Along the walls there were work tops and benches covered in tools even Tony couldn't discern. There were what appeared to be notebooks, a form of data collection in the same incomprehensible language that had been on the walls.
The group wandered through it all, staring wide-eyed. Thor picked up a sharp implement and turned it so that the blade caught the light.
"What is this place? A torture chamber?"
"Looks like nothing I've ever seen." Clint said slowly. "And believe me; I've seen a lot of torture facilities in my time." He looked up so that the light from his face-plate lit more equipment hanging down from the racks on the ceiling. "This-"
"This wasn't about torture."
Tony's voice was oddly detached. He stood infront of the back wall, his arc reactor lighting up the multiple shelves that lined it. Maybe it was something in his voice that gave the other three such a deep sense of foreboding as they approached to see what he had found. With the extra light from Clint's suit everything was thrown into sharp relief.
"This was science."
And it was worse than any nightmare Tony had ever had in his life.
The shelves were lined with bottles – possibly glass, but it was hard to tell considering they were in another galaxy – so many bottles. Each one had a label written on the shelf underneath, although again there was no way to know what they said. They didn't need to read them though, since the contents of the jars were visible; suspended in clear solution like a specimen in formaldehyde.
Or…
No, they were specimens.
A severed hand floated ghost-like, the skin stripped off so that the musculature was visible. A knee-cap, white and gleaming. Nerves, tendons, bones, veins, arteries.
A pair of eye-balls, one facing away so that they could only see the optic nerve. The other, however, had drifted round and although the iris was clouded it was still a very familiar shade of green. The exact same shade Evie had.
"Norns…" Even Odin was looking ill as he stared up at the wall of jars. There was just so much.
Tony wondered, in a manic sort of way, if there was enough left of Loki for them to even bury.
"What're those?" Clint sounded less sickened than the others, but he was used to gore in his line of work so he had blocked his horror out easier. Now he was pointing down to a set of five large flasks and their grisly contents.
"No…" The little sob of a word was unexpected coming from Thor and all the worse for it.
Tony couldn't see them clearly, and with the rest of the wall of horrors he couldn't imagine what else was possibly so bad. It was only when he began to crouch down to see the murky shapes that he actually realised what they were.
Foetuses.
Five foetuses.
No…four and a newborn.
They were malformed, gruesome things. All twisted claws and tails. No one was alike, each a slightly different mutation from the last.
One, the fourth jar, had oversized eyes without lids, staring balefully into no-where. The smallest was patched between chitauri scales and Jötunn blue, almost like a camouflage pattern. The largest, the one that had been born had its own talons dug into its flesh, a ripped umbilical cord wrapped around its neck.
Tony stumbled back with a cry, crashing into the table and falling to his knees.
God no.
He retched and the helmet lit up with warning signs.
"Sir, you cannot throw up! The atmosphere means you cannot raise the face-plate."
Yeah, he knew that. And there was no way he was going to spend the rest of their time on this God-forsaken planet with a helmet filled with vomit. He could control himself, he was fine, just do not think about those bodies!
Do not think about where they came from, how they were brought into existence.
Do not think about that happening to Loki.
The feeling of sickness was dying back in favour of dizziness again and he felt someone – Clint possibly – forcing his head forwards and down so that he was staring at the floor.
"Breathe, Tony. You need to breathe." Definitely Clint, his voice sounded metallic.
"He…They…"
"Breathe."
He did, since there was nothing else. Jarvis was humming gently, some sort of white-noise that was somewhat annoying, but annoyance was far far better than a panic-attack. The darkness around his eyes was receding somewhat, leaving behind the burning horror and…
Fury.
The missile he'd created sat heavy in his shoulder holster, itching to make them all burn.
"Tony? You back?"
He raised his head and nodded curtly, before using the table to help himself to his feet. Cold sweat was sticking his clothes to him and minute shivers made warning signs flash amber on the HUD. It felt very much like the onset of shock, but he was confident Jarvis would keep an eye on him.
There was a sob.
Stark turned to see Thor slumped down against one of the work surfaces, much like he had been. The God was curled over his knees, his shoulders shaking as the sounds of misery continued. Odin was crouched down next to him, a hand on his shoulder and talking quietly. There were tears running down the old king's face.
It hadn't occurred to Tony to think how the two God's must have been feeling. At the very least it must have been as hard for them as it was for him – to see the evidence of the pain a beloved family member had been put through. He had never seen Thor break like that – the big blonde had kept his displays of emotions to himself, locking himself in his room when need be.
"Hey, Thor." He crouched down on the other side of his friend, awkwardly resting his hand on the God's arm. "The bastards will burn. I've made sure of that. When we leave here I've got enough fire-power on me to make them all regret the day they ever heard the name Earth."
It wasn't great poetry, but it made Thor raise his head and stare at him. "A nuclear weapon?"
"One big enough to make Fat Man look like a fire cracker." He didn't expect the God to know what Fat Man was but the sincerity in his voice was reassuring enough. "I'll fry the lot of them."
Thor nodded miserably.
"Hey guys. There's another door over here." Hawkeye's voice cut across them with his usual lack of tact. "I'll take a quick-Jesus fucking Christ!"
The sudden fear and horror in the voice of someone so conditioned to the battlefield was entirely unsettling.
"Clint, what is it?" The repulsors in Tony's hands fired up, ready for any threat that may have been found.
"He's…He's here! Jesus, he's here!"
The words were like a fire shooting through them.
He's here.
Tony reached Clint's side first, clinging to the archers shoulder as he tried to peer around him through the narrow doorway. Thor and Odin were barely moments behind him.
The tiny room Barton had found was what they had been expecting when they'd first entered the complex. It was all gloom and rough rock and slick dirty ground underfoot. And there…
There in the far corner was a huddled shape.
"Sir," Jarvis' voice was harsh in the sudden silence. "Sir, I am detecting a pulse."
"Oh my God…"
Since Clint wasn't moving and was unintentionally blocking the two Gods, it was Ironman who stepped into the filthy cell first. He walked slowly, but the suit was heavy and his footsteps crunched on the gravel strewn across the floor. There was no reaction from the huddle and as he moved forwards the arc reactor lit more of the situation.
Auschwitz.
That was the first thing that came to his mind.
Those poor, desperate living skeletons that peered out of the black and white photographs, every single bone visible. That was what he was seeing now.
The skeletal-thin body had it's back to him but still showed each and every broken and twisted bone down its spine. All of the cuts and lacerations where vertebrae were now missing. There wasn't an inch of skin on the filthy back that hadn't been mutilated by the surgical quest for knowledge. Long black hair, wild and tangled straggled across the ground.
"Loki..?" Tony whispered.
There was no reply and he moved closer, sinking to his knees beside the still body. Behind him he heard Thor entering, as slowly as Tony himself had done.
"Brother?"
Stark remembered the jars on the wall, the many many jars.
"I don't think he can hear us." He said quietly. To back this up he leant forwards and gently brushed the hair back from Loki's ear.
Where Loki's ear should have been.
"He can't hear us, Thor." He repeated. "He-"
Loki suddenly shivered, a tiny movement as if trying to escape the contact but lacking the strength to do so. It was a heart-breaking gesture – that he was so conditioned to pain – but the motion only brought joy to the two beside him.
He was alive.
Tony felt his eyes well up as he reached forwards to carefully pull Loki's frail body over to face them. Technically he knew he shouldn't be moving the trickster at all – God alone know just how injured he was – but logic wasn't something he was listening to.
He was here. Loki was here! Here in his arms, real and alive and here.
But Loki didn't know that he was safe.
The prisoner's chest was fluttering with shallow panicked breaths as tiny shivers ran through him. The stump of his severed hand had a bar pierced through the wrist that connected him to a chain on the wall, and he clutched his remaining hand tight under his chin in a defensive movement. He had no way of knowing who was with him.
Tony had expected it, since he had seen the evidence in the terrible laboratory, but it was still an icy shock to see two blank holes, burned and blackened where Loki's eyes had once sat. Beyond that the trickster's nose had been sliced off, leaving a gaping hole into his head where cartilage gleamed through the mess.
No ears, no eyes, no nose and when Loki gasped hoarsely it was possible to see that no tongue could be added to that list. He was so thin that his skin stretched over his face like parchment and missing his nose and eyes gave the terrifying impression of a skull.
Tony didn't want to look to see what else had been taken.
"Oh my love, what have they done to you..?" He whispered, brushing more wayward tangles out of the ruin of Loki's face.
"He isn't even aware it's us…" Thor said hoarsely. "We have no way of letting him know that we aren't here to harm him."
The God's words were true. Loki's broken body was strung with tension, obviously waiting for and wondering what fresh new hell was about to be devised for him. And he wasn't even fighting. Just…waiting.
Tony bit back the rising panic and terror at the situation, trying to focus on the problem they were faced with. He could sense Clint and Odin in the doorway, although they were staying silent, and briefly wondered why the king wasn't down here with Loki like he and Thor were.
Not the problem right now.
Okay; five senses. Loki had lost four of those, which left touch as the only sense he currently had. But that had a solution…
"Helen Keller." Tony had to smile as he said it.
"Whom?"
"Helen Keller, she was deaf-blind. Really inspirational story; she had to learn to communicate through touch alone. She understood the world around here with her hands."
And so saying Tony gently grasped Loki's thin wrist, uncurling the shaking fingers. Loki made a sound that could have been a whimper, but had no strength to fight the guiding pull and had to simply let Tony raise his hand up and rest it against the arc reactor.
"Come on Loki. I know you can't hear me, but we're here. We're here for you, and as soon as you know that we can go." The inventor whispered. "We can take you home."
The skeletal fingers shook in his hold, tapping against the reactor and skittering along the glass covering.
"Come on Loki." Tony repeated. He glanced at Thor and saw the God staring at the broken trickster, tears streaming down his face as he desperately tried to will understanding into his brother.
The fingers tap-tapped again before the shaking in them lessened slightly and the movement became more purposeful. Tony couldn't feel it, obviously, but in a very real way it felt like Loki was gently mapping out his whole heart. The digits ran slowly around the edge of the energy source, before sliding across the central glass again. One finger had been part-amputated and the broken splinters of bone caught on the catches of the reactor although Loki showed no reaction to the pain that he must have felt.
And then a sudden shudder ran through him. This time without the commanding grasp on his wrist he raised his hand up further, feeling his way up the chest plate to reach the helmet. His fingers danced across the mouth, discerning the shape before moving up again to feel the eye-slits, tracing around them.
"Loki..?" He knew he shouldn't, it was bad for the circuits, but Tony couldn't help the tears that spilt over as the gentle questing fingers danced across his vision on the HUD.
Then Loki's hand cupped the helmet's cheek. A hoarse, broken sound escaped his mouth and although it was hopeless to try and tell an expression on his ruined face, it was just possible that he was attempting to smile.
Tony covered the frail shaking hand with his own, leaning into the touch that he couldn't feel as a sudden sob shook him.
"He knows. He knows it's us." He gasped out. "He knows."
"Here."
He looked up to see that Odin had appeared beside him. The elder God looked terrible as he pulled his cloak off and knelt down beside Ironman and his son. He reached out and severed the chain holding Loki to the wall with a simple twist of his hands before carefully wrapping the rich crimson fabric around the trickster's battered body.
"Father, I'll carry him…" Thor offered, his voice cracked and hoarse.
"I've got him." Odin hooked an arm under Loki's knees and the other under his shoulders before standing up. It was obvious that the trickster weighed next to nothing.
Loki seemed to sense that it wasn't Tony carrying him and raised his single hand again, almost immediately encountering Odin's beard. The king froze staring down at the son he had lost for so long.
The trickster's fingers wound through the hair before creeping up to find wetness and new tears rolling down to slide across his own skin. The sensation seemed to give him pause as he tried to determine what it was. And then he found the golden disc in place of the eye.
For a moment the whole universe seemed to still as Loki realised just whose arms he was in, carrying him out of hell. His fingers ran across the familiar grooves and patterns of the eye patch and a broken croak escaped his mouth. Odin seemed to be holding his breath.
And then Loki relaxed. He let his hand drop down and rested his head against his father's shoulder, shivering with what – had he had the means to cry – may have been sobs.
Odin didn't say another word as they left the cell, leaving behind the scene of seven years of pain and misery. Jarvis was able to direct them back out of the complex, retracing the route they had taken initially.
Tony was trembling, and when he glanced at Thor he could see that the God was looking as bad as he felt. The sheer amount of emotion was so overwhelming that Stark preferred too just push it all to one side until they had the time and place to deal with it. The absolute pure joy of knowing that they had him.
They had him.
They had him!
And he was so broken and frail.
It hurt beyond reason to see him in such a state.
It came as a surprise for him to find that they were outside again, back where the Bifrost had initially dropped them. He didn't remember the walk back, focussing too much on the rush of feelings inside him.
As Odin called out to Heimdall, Thor turned to Clint and Tony.
"Stark, you mentioned a weapon?"
Oh yes, he'd nearly forgotten. It wouldn't likely reach all of the ships above them, but would certainly take out every damn creature on the planet itself and destroy that hellish lab.
As the Bifrost began to glow around them, Tony smiled.
"Jarvis, do the honours."
And there was nothing but light.
MWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMW
The journey back had little difference to the one going, other than a more dignified landing.
Tony ignored everything else. He wrenched his helmet and gloves off, not caring where they fell and ran to where Odin was urgently telling Thor something.
It didn't matter, didn't matter. Nothing else mattered but Loki.
In the light of the observatory the trickster looked worse; the filth and grime highlighting every wound and misaligned bone. Tony didn't care as he gently cupped Loki's face, feeling the skin under his fingers, the shivering breath on his cheek as he lent in and pressed a kiss to the God's forehead.
"We've got you now. You're safe. You're home.. I've got you"
MWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMW
Wooo! *Air punch* I've had that chapter in my head almost from the get-go of this story and it feels so so good to finally write it! And don't worry; there is still loads to go :D
Love you all for sticking me so far! Until next time!