Steve had hoped that he might say 'Avengers, assemble' again. He had also hoped that he might get to say it under more optimistic circumstances. To say that Tony, head in hands and swearing into a stack of papers was not particularly optimistic was an understatement. He had, in fact, said it as a perfunctory command over the tower's loudspeaker system. The team, minus Thor, flocked into Tony's office, each face as downcast as the previous one.
"So, what do we know?" Clint collapsed into a desk chair, watching Steve heavily.
"Tony had a heart attack and Loki escaped with the Tesseract," Bruce, still visibly disturbed and wringing his hands, spoke with a barely contained crack in his voice. With a gentle smile, Nat pressed him into a seat and forced a mug of tea into his hands. He took a nervous sip.
"Thor thought he'd go to Asgard," Nat said, "take it there and use it for… who knows."
"Well, Thor's good," Clint cut in, standing in agitation, "and Loki hasn't come back."
"We can't just assume that –" Steve 's voice rose.
"I know," Clint replied, sighing, "but what else can we do? None of us can go to Asgard, none of us can scan the goddamn galaxy for an actual god!"
Steve and Nat locked eyes, sighing and looking around in distress.
"Tony, is there any way we can find out what powered the Tesseract?" Bruce asked. Nothing. "Tony?"
Silently, Tony pressed at a device on his desk and brought up a holographic screen across the length of the table. His expression darkened, a thousand thoughts flying over his face. The screen calibrated itself before displaying a dark image, a cluster of red arrows zooming in on a blurred cylindrical object.
"What the hell is that?" Bruce whispered, stepping closer.
"Ship's just approached the atmosphere," Tony said, clearly absent as he examined the screen.
"Is it Loki?" Steve glared at the screen, the blurred edges overwhelming his senses.
"No, not Loki. Something else. Something worse."
… … …
Thanos' ship hovered on the edge of the earth's atmosphere. At the helm, he sneered meanly as a satellite sailed past them, oblivious to their presence a mere half mile away. Maw's nervous shifting was almost imperceptible, but Thanos felt his energy radiating around the cockpit. Behind, spread out on a table with pins jabbed through key locations, a holographic map guided their plans.
"Closer," Thanos commanded. The engine whirred quietly, carrying them forward. "Deploy."
In pairs, his lieutenants entered pods, strapping themselves in and tapping at the console, programming their path. With a pop, the pods were ejected into space. Thanos smiled.
He felt Maw stiffen behind him and the smile was gone. Each pod had, in the seconds he had turned away, turned to clouds of fiery wreckage, churning metal into the space around them. Foreign emotions fought for domination – shock, rage and offended humiliation were, predictably, the victors. Jumping up, he slammed his hands against the console and made to stalk for the map.
Until something gliding past the window caught his attention. The culprit, undoubtedly, of this unforeseen failure. Taunting him. A dull, human-made device. A satellite.
Emblazoned on the sides with 'Stark Industries'.
… … …
For eight months, the stones had rested in a vault beneath Asgard's palace. No disturbances. No use.
For eight months, Thor had been languishing in his father's bad books. Guilty, granted, of nothing more than exonerating his brother of apparently heinous war crimes. But guilty, in the king's eyes, nonetheless. Unsure whether to be proud or ashamed of his newfound skill for lying effortlessly, Thor had resigned himself to pinning Loki, again, against a wall and telling him, in no uncertain terms, that he was to be the exact epitome of perfection and virtue. That an evil force had taken advantage of Loki's attempt at redeeming his very nature. And this was not up for debate.
For eight months, he had been restless without release. And then a hand rested firmly on his shoulder.
"Thor." Heimdall was calm, but visibly agitated.
"Heimdall. What is it?"
"Jane has left my Sight." Thor's stomach dropped, his chest tightening. Nodding slowly, he asked Heimdall to take him to the Bifrost. As they walked, his body agitated to move faster, he tuned in to the fluttering of dread in his mind. Something waited for him, something that would bring about the harsh reminder that eight months is not long enough to escape an infinity stone. Shaking Heimdall by the hand, he felt the celestial light of the Bifrost wash over him, dropping him in a courtyard surrounded by concrete and abandoned buildings.
Shouting caught his attention. Heading cautiously in the direction of it, he rounded a corner, lost in thought, brought out of his reverie by the clattering of metal against the ground.
"Hey!" a familiar voice snapped at him, a swirl of brown hair and furious eyes spinning to meet him.
"Darcy?"
"Thor!" She greeted him with an open-mouthed grin, punching his arm, whacking him with a flat hand and hugging him in a rather confusing sequence. Breathing out his relief, he laughed.
"Where's Jane?" Suddenly remembering himself, he gripped Darcy by her shoulders and bore his eyes into hers. Clenching her jaw, she met his stare and straightened up.
"Hey, you left her! Why should I tell you where she is?"
"She left Heimdall's Sight." Darcy narrowed her eyes and tilted her head, questioningly.
"What? Oh, right, yeah. Well, she was just round there a few minutes ago," Thor hurried off as Darcy watched him, considering the possibility that he had been a god for too long and was in desperate need of a vacation.
… … …
There shouldn't have been light down there. Between slick, wet rock and humid air there ought to be nothing. Maybe fossils. Maybe bacteria or slime or dead algae.
The light was enchanting. Like a wicked, watchful gaze, it drew her in, held her attention and whispered to her deepest sensibilities. She reached out a hand, letting her fingers dance in the glow of its very edges.
It gripped her. Each muscle pulled taught. Her nerves sang out, needing and rejecting the light that nibbled at her core. Screams bounced off the walls of the cave, closing off her senses.
… … …
Her whole body jarred as her feet touched the ground again. Shaking, she frantically glanced around her, wrapping her arms around her to calm her racing heart. Very slowly, her limbs returned to normal, lungs burning and empty.
A deep voice sent her head reeling all over again. Spinning around, she watched as Thor strode towards her, face like thunder – she let out a deliriously snort – and loosed a shaky breath.
With a warm grin, Thor wrapped his arms around Jane, pulling her to him tightly. He felt her relax into him and sigh happily, the fear of her experience melting away. The Aether blazed in her blood.
The stones, deep beneath the ground, pulsed in response.
With dull motions, Loki stood from his desk, mischief stirring in his blood, to answer their call.