IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ:

For some reason the update time didn't show correctly on the last chapter but checking on my mobile, it's defo there ~ please make sure you didn't miss it as there are big spoilers in the first sentence ;)

Clint, Nat and Steve he told to fight off Oriax, and they were doing a pretty damn fine job of distracting her, though she was too fast, too strong, to be so easily defeated. In fact, Fury had the sense she was toying with them. Bruce, in hulk form, was slowly smashing the upgraded Chitauri, guarding the perimeter and crushing any trying to step out of the imagined bounds Fury had drawn out for him. Loki and Tony… They probably would have been near-useless against Oriax, judging by how pale they had gone when they had seen her, but he had no doubt they would want to fight, and besides, they were needed. So, under his orders, they helped the hulk and the Asgardians destroy the Chitauri one by one. Fury was well aware that he was more mortal than the others, except perhaps Stark, but without a suit to protect him. All he had was his gun, and he couldn't reload it fast enough to kill the Chitauri swarming around them. Occasionally, Clint had to turn and let an arrow fly at them to help him out, something which was making him slightly annoyed, as he was the weakness in the team and Clint had his own fight. Though eventually, the fights abated slightly and the Chitauri left over were just stragglers. Oriax seemed to tire of the play and swung her whip three times, too fast to be seen, but the crack of the whip was unmistakeable. Steve and Clint yelped, blood spreading down from their cheeks, but somehow Nat had managed to dodge. She didn't dodge the blast of dark power sent her way, and landed sprawled near Fury, who silently helped her up. Oriax raised a hand. "Send the next fifty," she commanded loudly, and they heard Hulk begin to roar and the sounds of fighting increased again. To Fury's disgusted astonishment, Oriax began inspecting her nails and blew away a small speck of dust, before turning and walking away. Steve and Clint hadn't risen.

He half-ran over to them and shook them, yelling their names. Eventually, they looked up blearily. "That hurt," muttered Steve weakly. Clint nodded, and Fury noticed him panting slightly. Both of them were ashen and looked like they might be sick. "Poison?" he asked them, a little unsure, and they both nodded in response. Fury cursed and turned to Nat. She was clutching her ribs, face pale. Fury began cursing. They had about thirty seconds before the next load of Chitauri arrived, and that damned black smoke was making it hard to see. A sudden realisation knocked the breath out of him. Thanos had not been lying. This world would be destroyed. "Get up," he told them, harshly but not unkindly. "This is one fight we need to win." And he walked into the mist, already loading his gun, seeking out the Chitauri. They came in a wave, and Fury shot and shot and shot until he was covered in black blood but the Chitauri kept coming. He must have killed at least twenty before the flow abated, and, looking down, he realised his arm had been cut open. He couldn't particularly feel it, and he didn't particularly care. Not as he heard Oriax call for another fifty in vaguely amused tones, and once he was in the thick of the fighting, he could only dimly recall hearing the Hulk bellow. In pain, not victory. But somehow, the Chitauri hadn't yet left the borders. One hundred and fifty so far, and they were already exhausted. Even Thor's lightening flashes were becoming less frequent, the thick hides of the Chitauri seeming to become stronger and more… resistant, every time they fought them. Two hundred came too long after that call, and Fury began to despair they would ever win this fight. His injuries began to add up, the slash on his arm joined by a cut on his leg and a searing pain across his ribs. And he was running low on ammo. It was after what seemed like so long that he realised the mist was clearing and the Chitauri either dead or retreating. After a while, he made out Oriax through the smoke and headed that way, before breaking into a limping run as he noted that something bad was happening.

His ribs, oh gods. One or more were probably broken, and he was panting heavily as he arrived. Everyone except Hulk and the four strange Asgardians were clustered around Oriax… Who was holding, locked in a headlock, Steve. "Let him go," Tony said in a low voice, palm up and ready to shoot. "If you do that, you'll blow his head off," said Oriax sweetly and Tony lowered his arm with a snap, clearly frustrated. "Give me what I want, and Thanos what he wants," Oriax insisted, a blade at Steve's throat. Steve looked… Bad. The red mark was still on his cheek and leaking blood, but his eyes were only half open, and he seemed to be gasping for breath even though Oriax didn't appear to be choking him. Fury pointed his gun at Oriax, but she cocked her head and blinked at him. "You should know I'm faster than that," she murmured, and pushed the blade harder to Steve's throat. A drop of red slid down his throat. None of them moved. Helpless, Fury looked around. Strange was imprisoned in black mist, unable to move. Loki was similarly held, but the rest of them were free. Unable to do anything unless they wanted Steve to be killed – or worse. Worse being that the knife she held at his throat must have been coated with poison, because Steve jerked slightly, groaning in pain. Fury had no idea what she had done to him. Probably more poison. He looked again at everyone. Clint was holding his bow, but his hands were shaking, and he looked more than a little out of it. Thor was hanging his head, whip-marks marring his strong shoulders. Nat was trembling, and Tony… Tony looked pale, but his face was set in grim determination. "Give me what I want," Oriax told them again. "Give me what Thanos wants." Fury began to open his mouth as he noticed where Oriax was looking, about to yell, but a black clamp appeared on his mouth and he couldn't make a noise. Oriax was staring directly at Tony. "Give us what we want… And we will let him go. Let them all go." And somehow, Fury knew Tony would do anything to save earth. He'd been prepared to blow up in space a year ago, and now it looked like he was prepared to do more. "Let him go," he said quietly, taking a step closer and spreading his arms out in near-surrender. Oriax smiled at him. From where he was stood, behind Tony, Fury noticed the small missile detaching itself from Tony's back, but kept his face expressionless. No doubt in the moment that she let go of Steve, he would…

But Oriax didn't let go of Steve, not until Tony – and the missile – were completely smothered in black mist, restrained, and she pushed Steve back to them, not watching as he slumped to the floor in a crumpled heap at their feet, and reached into the mist to pull out Tony, running a hand down his face almost lovingly. He gasped in pain and bewilderment as he realised what had happened, and looked up at Loki. Fury followed his gaze. Loki was screaming Tony's name silently, pushing at the magic with all his might, fighting it with every shred of his being, but to no avail. Oriax watched, amused, until he quieted, tears beginning to streak down his face. "That one," she said, pointing at Strange, and the cloud floated over. Strange twisted and bucked within it, but his luck was not dissimilar to Loki's. Tony's eyes were wide with fear. Oriax dragged him with her as she walked over to where Strange was, and used her magic to look over the amulet around his neck. Strange twisted and tried to back away from her, unsuccessfully. Then, she placed a light hand on his head and closed her eyes briefly. When she did, Tony looked directly at Fury. Kill us, he mouthed. Please. Then Oriax looked back up. "Hm," she hummed. "A little too breakable for me, I think. I've had better toys." And here she smiled at Loki and gave Tony's hair an almost affectionate ruffle. Fury looked at Tony and saw the plea in his eyes, but he couldn't shoot while she was looking or she would dodge the bullet, impossible as it sounded. "I might leave you behind," she told Strange. "All he wants is the amulet." Strange shook his head violently, but Oriax just chuckled. Gods, she was a despicable woman. Demoness. Thing. Whatever she was – she was still despicable.

And there he saw it – a weakness. In her love of pain, she would drag out the fight for as long as possible just to see them hurt and hurt and hurt until they broke. Perhaps they would lose anyway, but he had a feeling Oriax would stay to watch them lose – and let Strange, Loki and Tony watch as they lost, too. She ran a nail down Tony's face and closed her eyes briefly as he shuddered. But his brown eyes met Fury's, and Fury, with a speed he didn't know he possessed, raised his gun and fired a shot. Natasha, too, fired two shots. She must have noticed their silent communication. For a brief moment, he had hope. But none of the bullets gave a good shot. One went wide as she blurred and dodged. But the second grazed her cheek and the third hit Tony in the shoulder, skimming off the bone and grazing Oriax's side. Fury cursed – has the angle only been a little different, the wound might have been more serious. But at least they'd drawn blood in this, the final fight. And managed to royally piss her off. She raised a hand. "Send a thousand," she commanded, and as Fury looked at the broken faces of his Avengers, he knew that there was no hope, not any more. They were doomed, as was Midgard. Oriax wiped the spot of blood from her cheeks and shrugged. Then hissed as behind them, the blinding light of the Bifrost erupted and suddenly stood ranks upon ranks of Asgardian warriors. He could not see any that might be Odin – presumably he hadn't bothered to show up. But he recognised Heimdall from Tony's description of him, and the golden warrior strode over to them, gaze unwavering. "We will take care of these Chitauri," he told them as Oriax fumed, "But though we may again save Midgard, I fear that we cannot defeat the demoness. That would take a power far beyond our reach." And then he ran in the direction of Hulk's cries, where the golden warriors were converging upon the Chitauri. "Send more!" Oriax shouted, voice cutting over the battle, but the Bifrost slashed apart the dark mist and more warriors poured out, answering Oriax's call with one of their own.

Fury met Oriax's furious gaze and smiled. Even though he and his Avengers might die, at least Earth would be saved. Oriax clapped her hands together above her head and darkness began spreading around them, until there was a bubble around them, containing them. Fury had no doubt the walls of the black dome surrounding them would be rock hard and unyielding. Oriax surveyed them all, her previously furious face now impassive. "Well then," she muttered. "I guess I'll just take all of you." Her eyes narrowed and Fury shivered as a small smile curved up her lips. "Loki," she said, turning to face the wide-eyed god. "That was a nice trick, storing all of your magic in a place my spell wouldn't reach." She cocked her head. "Perhaps you had forgotten it was there. But you don't have any now, do you?" Loki's silence was enough answer. "All you have is mortal tricks," she continued, gesturing at Strange. Fury raised his gun, but Oriax didn't even blink as she cracked the whip that suddenly appeared in her hand and he stumbled back, the whip cutting open clothes and flesh. He felt blood sliding down him, and a cool detachment swept over him, a natural protection against pain. "How about we repeat the last time?" Oriax asked Loki. "I did enjoy watching you scream." She huffed a low laugh, and then Nat made her move, launching herself at Oriax as Clint fired an arrow. The arrow was dodged, and Fury looked up through a blurring vision to see a knife sprouting from Clint's shoulder. Nat managed to punch Oriax, once, hard, in the stomach, and almost managed to rip Tony from her grip before Oriax flung her back and she landed with an audible crack on a pile of broken bricks. Had he not been in the process of blacking out, Fury would have been sick, seeing them all broken like this. Steve still hadn't moved, except his shield… it was clutched in his fingers, where it had been lying on the floor before. And as yet another strange poison of Oriax's swept through his body, he could do nothing more as he succumbed to it and fell into the rising blackness.

Strange wanted to scream as he saw the avengers, the mightiest heroes of earth, lying broken on the ground. But he couldn't, the darkness wouldn't let him. He'd never encountered anything like it before. His magic – and by extension, the magic he had helped Loki regain – was useless against it. This wasn't simply controlling of the mind, this was real, true magic, the type in storybooks. Not particularly nice storybooks. He couldn't let the amulet fall into the hands of Thanos, were the only thoughts in his head. He couldn't. Not only might Midgard – Earth – be at stake, but the fate of the universe. Thanos already had the power stone – and Oriax was almost as powerful in her own right. There was no way they could win, but he could hide the time stone. Take it from the amulet and put it somewhere nowhere but he would find it. He struggled, trying to fight off the blackness with his body, but focused his mind on the time stone, pulling it from the amulet and replacing it with a fake. The true amulet he did not know, for a while, where to hide. Not on Midgard, not unless he wanted Thanos to tear the world apart looking for it. Instead, he hid it in the golden clasp on the cloak of levitation – something which might well be overlooked when he was taken to the ship. It was inevitable, he thought, trying to fight rising wave of panic and fear. There was nothing he could do any more. At least the stone was hidden – or at least, he thought so, until Oriax turned to him and smiled. "Trying to hide it?" she purred, and Strange's blood froze. She must have felt his mind working. Within milliseconds, the real stone was back in the amulet at his chest. "It's protected," he managed to gasp out as the blackness closed in tightly around him, creeping over his face and obscuring his view. "You'll never get it," he hissed as his vision went completely black and he couldn't breathe, not as tendrils of black crept into his nose and mouth, and had he not been unable to take a deep enough breath, he would have cried out. Thirty seconds. Forty. The panic was setting in as he realized she was going to kill him. A minute. And then the push of the black mist lessened, and he took a few great, gasping breath, the mist clearing from his face. "I want you to see what will happen to you," Oriax told him matter-of-factly. And, though he still couldn't seem to breathe deeply enough, he managed a shuddering gasp as he noted the sight before him. Loki was kneeling on the ground, black iron chains binding his hands, a clamp made of similar material over his mouth. His suit – which had been impressive indeed – was torn and covered in blood, the metal plates dented. His chest plate had a deep dent in it that must have been making it hard for him to breathe, but he was somehow managing to kneel with some dignity, and look Oriax in the face without flinching as she prowled up and down and round and round Tony Stark, whose iron man suit had been stripped away and was lying, shattered, nearby, along with his shirt. Strange noted the scars already on his back, and felt sick. He had to do something. He couldn't let Oriax do this. "I'll go with you if you let them go," he told her in a low voice. "Willingly." She could torture the time stone from him all she liked, there was a chance she might not get it. But his will was crumbling as he watched Loki and Tony exchange a glance of utter weariness and sorrow, and he knew that they had suffered enough.

But Oriax looked at him with mirth dancing in her eyes, and he knew she was not Thanos, she would not hold to her word. Not that she would give her word in the first place. "No," she hummed. "But I like your co-operation. So, you won't have to watch." A cruel smile, and Strange knew that Oriax saw to the part of him that wanted to watch, to be silent support to Tony and Loki, to let them know they would not be alone. And to see what he was up against. This time, when the black mist came and smothered him, it clung to his face and did not let go for agonising minutes, until he felt the faintest brush of air on his face just as he passed out.

Steve was conscious, but barely. He kept his eyes half-closed, barely able to believe what was going on, and would have felt so even had poison not been coursing through his body. But it seemed Oriax didn't know about some of the benefits of being a super-soldier, and it seemed quick recovery – even from poison – was one of them. But he still ached… Everywhere, and the feel of his cool metal shield under his fingers was a relief. He hated himself for it, but he knew that he had to wait for the right moment to strike. And that moment would be most likely when she was in the middle of torturing Tony or Loki, when she was at her most distracted, and thus vulnerable. And so, he waited quietly and observed as Oriax tied Tony down, as Loki tried and failed to scream his name from under his mouthpiece. Tony stopped trying to struggle. He began to look almost… Empty. Vacant. As if he was slowly losing himself. Gods, he had to act. He couldn't let this go on… But he had to. So, he did the soldier's thing: he waited for the enemy to show a weakness before striking, his iron will stopping him from flinching and betraying himself when Oriax finally raised her whip.

And to Loki's immeasurable relief, she brought it down not on Tony but on himself. Even though the pain was almost worse than he remembered, even though the whip was barbed and ripped apart the skin down the side of his face and neck, even though he wanted to scream, he found himself shaking in relief, able to bear the pain because it was him and not Tony being hurt. Tony… He was screaming, calling out Loki's name as he turned his face up and met the whip as it lashed down again and again, sapping his will and endurance from it. The ground wavered red around him, and when Oriax removed his mouthpiece, he couldn't seem to find the breath to scream. Everything was cold and hot and on fire and freezing away but he wanted her to continue. To poison him and burn him and rip him apart, him, not Tony. Never Tony. Please no, he thought to himself as the whip stopped falling down. Oriax did not hear his silent plea, but even if she had heard it, she would not have listened to him.

Please no. But the weight of the chains lifted, and they wrapped around Tony instead, weighing him down, and Loki slumped to the floor, near the still-prone Captain. He had not been able to scream for himself, but when he heard the whip crack, this time tearing into Tony, he found himself screaming "Tony!" over and over, tears now mingling with the blood on his face. Even Oriax's laugh was lost on him as he screamed for his lover's sake. He gasped in relief along with Tony as Oriax gave them a brief pause, but his face twisted in fear as Oriax turned to him and crouched down, looking him in the face with her twisted half-smile. She waved a small bottle of something. "Remember this?" she hummed, and as she began painting her nails with whatever it was in the bottle, Loki realised he did remember, and he knew exactly which poison it was. The three scars on his chest burned at the memory. She couldn't… She wouldn't use it on Tony. She would, a voice in his head told him, and despairing, he knew it to be true. Oriax finished and stood, turning, and in the brief moment when she turned and did not block his view, he met Tony's eyes. I'm sorry, whispered Tony's eyes. I love you, they whispered, and then Loki lost sight of him. Agony coursed through him, but he fought it, fought it, and pulled himself up, torn and shattered limbs screaming in protest, but he managed to slide across the floor just enough to see Tony, staring wide-eyed and afraid, but unflinching, into Oriax's face as she gently drew her hands down his chest. They would have matching scars. Loki gave a cry of utter despair, because they would not live long enough to see the scars form, to talk over what had happened. They would never kiss again, or just be with each other in happy silence. The world dulled and all he could see and hear was Tony, and the screams that tore both of them apart.