Chapter 36 - Bad Kitty

Loki had been awoken by either the sudden disappearance of the bed he had been sleeping on, or by Wanda's shriek when she had been awoken the same way; which, he wasn't sure. Still, he felt surprisingly rested, given how upset he had been the previous evening. He wondered if his other self hadn't used a little magic to help him sleep. He looked around the room for his other self, but they were already gone.

Somehow, Pietro hadn't woken up, even after the noise Wanda had made. For a few seconds, Loki worried that he had died again, but then he saw the steady motion of his chest rising and falling with each breath. Happy seemed to have already been awake; likely he had no more than dozed in the chair he sat in near the door. He stood, rubbing his temples as if he had a headache. "You kids stay here. Don't move, alright? Mister Stark should be out of surgery by now, so I'm going to check on him. Then I'm going to see if I can get some coffee—"

"Can I come?"

"You don't drink coffee."

Loki wondered how the man possibly knew that, but he supposed he was the head of security at Stark Industries for a reason. "No, I want to see Tony. Although actually, I could do with a muffin or something."

"I'm hungry too," complained Wanda, who had gathered up her clothes from the day before and had been in route to the bathroom. Neither of them had eaten since some time the day before. Before leaving for Virginia, Tony had given them permission to have JARVIS order in, but the twins had disappeared before it had been late enough for supper.

"Alright, fine," Happy conceded. "We'll all go check on Tony, then we'll see about breakfast."

Loki changed out in the open while Wanda took hers into the bathroom. When she came out, Loki followed Happy out the door, and Wanda followed Loki, though she stopped to take one last lingering look over the form of her still sleeping twin brother.

"He'll be fine," Loki told her, grasping her hand to pull her along down the hallway, to the elevator.

When they got to Tony's room, Happy and Wanda hung back near the door while he went further in. Pepper was already there, sitting in a chair next to a hospital bed that contained an unconscious Tony. She had brought her laptop along with her—the woman never stopped working, thought Loki—but she looked a lot better rested than the night before, and a lot more comfortable, having changed out of her business attire and into yoga pants and tennis shoes for once.

Loki watched Tony sleep for a moment. "Will he die?"

Pepper looked up from her laptop. "No, sweetie, he's not going to die. He's just sleeping off the anesthesia from his surgery. It really wasn't that serious." She put the device aside and stood, reaching out to touch his cheek.

Loki knew she only meant to express affection for him, but he just couldn't stand having her touch him at that moment. He pulled away.

"Loki, what's wrong?"

"I don't want you to touch me right now."

"Then I won't. But I want you to know that your appearance doesn't make any difference to me, if that's what this is about."

"The color of my eyes don't disturb you?"

"No, of course not."

"I thought mortals generally associated red eyes with the demonic."

"Demons aren't real."

Loki couldn't help but crack a smile at that. Modern Midgardians and their general disbelief in anything that lacked "scientific" evidence never ceased to amuse him. "I assure you, Lady Potts, that demons believe in you."

Pepper arched an eyebrow at him. "Demons are real?"

"Of course they are."

"I see. And where are these demons?" Her eyes scanned the air around him, as if there might be one lurking just behind him.

"Hell, I should think. Not the one my daughter governs. The one with two L's."

"So you're telling me there's a Hell; as in the Hell with fire, brimstone, and devils with pitchforks."

"As far as I know, devils nor demons don't favor pitchforks over any other sharp, pointy object. And before you ask, there's no 'Satan.' Not anymore, anyway; only a handful of lesser demons clambering over an empty throne."

He decided he'd better not mention that at one point about a century ago, he'd taken that throne for himself on a lark. It hadn't lasted more than a couple of days anyway; Frigga had found him and drug him home by his ear before Odin could find out about it and make good on the threat to imprison him in that tree.

In the end, the episode had amounted to no more than a lost weekend—no matter what else you thought of them, demons did know how to party.

Pepper narrowed her eyes at him. He wasn't sure if she believed him, or if she thought he was out of his mind. He probably shouldn't have said anything. He had a feeling that this conversation was bound to be run by Doctor Samson in a "should we be concerned that Loki said..." capacity, and at their next session, there would be all sorts of questions about whether or not he knew "the difference between reality and fantasy" and whether or not he might be seeing things that weren't actually there again.

A groan issued from the bed next to him, and Loki turned his head to see Tony's eyes as they fluttered open. In Loki's excitement, he nearly pounced on top of the man, but at the last moment, he realized that jumping on him would be a very bad idea indeed. Just in time, he transformed himself into a small black cat and landed delicately on his chest.

Apparently, that was still enough to be jar Tony the rest of the way awake. Daddy, I'm so glad you're alive! cried Loki, though it came out as, "Meow!"

"Huh? What's up with this cat?" Tony still sounded groggy; likely the effects of the anesthesia hadn't completely worn off yet.

"That's Loki," said Pepper helpfully. "I think he got a little excited when you started to wake up."

"So excited he turned into a cat?"

"Something like that."

Loki meowed again, vying for Tony's attention. The man squinted at the cat on his chest. "You've been a very naughty kitten, you know. We're going to have to have a long talk about listening and not just running off and doing your own thing. And yes, I know how ludicrous that sounds coming from me—"

"Meow," Loki agreed.

"But I don't care. You have to let me keep you safe, okay? I don't care if you think I'm about to walk straight into my own death, you don't—hey, retract those claws, Mittens. I know you don't want to hear this, but you're going to hear it anyway."

Loki retracted his front claws, which had scraped ineffectively against Tony's arc reactor, along with his back claws, which had penetrated the blanket covering Tony's abdomen in order to dig into the skin of his stomach. He gave an apologetic meow; he hadn't meant to hurt Tony again, but hearing Tony talk about his own death had made him tense.

Tony lifted him up and held him so that they were nose to nose. "I get it. You don't want me to die. But I'm mortal, so it's going to happen sometime in the next century. You, on the other hand, have the next several thousand years ahead of you."

Loki didn't like being reminded of that. He hissed at Tony, though he immediately felt ashamed of himself for doing so.

"I know; I hate that I'm not going to be around longer for you. I'm sorry, but you do get what I'm saying, here? I've already lived at least half my life, but you've just gotten started. So if it comes down to you or me, it doesn't matter if you've technically lived longer; I want you to be the one that keeps on going. I know we've only known each other for a relatively short time, but you don't know what it would do to me if I lost you."

Loki squirmed until Tony dropped him, then leapt to the floor and turned himself back into a person. "What do you think it would do to me if you died, Stark?"

"Kid, you know that eventually—"

"No, I don't want to think about it." He had been avoiding thinking about how much shorter all of his mortal family's lives would be up until this point, and he didn't want to start thinking about it now.

Tony's eyes fluttered closed again, and Loki noticed that his breathing had become more shallow. Again, Loki felt bad for lashing out when Tony was recovering from a wound he was responsible for in the first place.

Pepper put her arm around him and squeezed. "You know, I think this conversation can wait. Loki, why don't you go get some breakfast with Happy and Wanda?"

She was right; Tony really wasn't in any condition for an argument. Reluctantly, he nodded.

..∧,,,∧
( ̳• · • ̳)
/ づ I'm so glad you're alive

No one had said a word since they had gotten back to the Quinjet. Once they were in the air, Clint had started whistling softly as he kept his eyes on the airspace in front of them. Natasha had left the co-pilot's seat so that she could clean her guns in silence.

Sif was the only one who had spent her time staring at him disapprovingly, but Steve knew that they were all thinking the same thing. What had happened had been his fault; he was the one who had let Zora hold the scepter. Somehow, it had never occurred to him that she would run off with it.

At least they knew where the scepter was now, even if it was in the hands of a madman like Doom. Maybe they could get Frigga to talk her new husband into giving it up?

Finally, Natasha broke the silence "We should have all gone after Bruce in the first place. What were we thinking, leaving it to Tony to back Leonard up? It sounds like he just left and went back to New York."

"I'm sure he had a good reason," Steve told her, although he wasn't really sure what had happened. All he knew was they were going to be flying straight to Virginia; what would happen when they got there was anyone's guess.

._-/.\-_.

Happy had taken them to a casual eatery less than a block away that was open for breakfast. Wanda poked her sunny-side up eggs with a piece of dry toast. She was hungry, but she was also tired still, and she felt guilty for leaving Pietro alone in his hospital room, even if he was asleep.

"You have to eat more," said Loki, shoveling a couple of pieces of bacon and sausage from his plate onto hers. (He had plenty left; he had ordered an entire plate of "Midgardian breakfast meats," as he called them). "You expended a lot of energy trying to attack me yesterday."

Wanda frowned at him. "Why are you being nice to me after I attacked you?"

Loki shrugged. "One time, I turned myself into a snake, and when Thor picked me up, I turned back and stabbed him with one of the new daggers Mother had gifted me for my birthday. After the healers closed the wound, he patted me on the head and told me I made an adorable snake. Then we went for ice cream."

"They have ice cream in Asgard?"

"Well, no. Actually, he took me to a mead hall and we got drunk, but that's sort of like Asgard's version of going for ice cream."

"How old were you?"

"Let's see—the daggers were a gift for my six hundred and eighteenth birthday; were I a mortal, I suppose I would have been around ten."

"Your childhood was messed up."

"Agreed."

"When I was ten, my parents were killed in front of me." Wanda wasn't sure why she had felt like opening up in that moment. Maybe her fatigue was making her less cautious; or maybe it was because she was starting to feel bad about attacking her Loki the day before. Or maybe it was just because he had opened up to her.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Loki said between bites of his last piece of bacon. "At least my parents are still alive—at least, the people I thought were my parents are still alive. A couple of years ago, I killed my real father."

Wanda shook her head. "You win; somehow, your childhood was way more messed up than mine was, even though I grew up in a war zone."

"I don't think it's a contest. But at least we both have Tony now, and the others."

Wanda pushed the bacon and sausage around on her plate. "You really trust Tony, don't you?"

"Of course. He just injured himself carrying me through the snow. He was also going to run upstairs to try to talk to you into coming back to the tower with us, even though you probably would have killed him. He wasn't even wearing his suit, because he didn't want you to feel more threatened than you already did."

Now Wanda felt guilty. When she thought about it, she realized that Tony hadn't done anything but treat her kindly. It had been weeks since she had gotten over the urge to attack him whenever she saw his face. But when the scepter had been mentioned she had panicked, and Loki was right; if Tony had confronted her then, she likely would have murdered him. "I'm glad you didn't let him near me."

"At least someone is." Loki pursed his lips. "I saved Tony's life, and all he can do is scold me for it."

"I think he meant to scold you for putting your own life in danger, not for saving his." Happy had been sitting there the whole time listening to their conversation while downing an entire pitcher of coffee. "Believe me, I get it. I would have done the same thing for Tony, but you're a kid, not Tony's body guard. You're not supposed to sacrifice yourself for an adult."

"Technically, I'm over a thousand years older than Tony."

"Doesn't matter."

"Also, I didn't die."

"No, her brother almost did."

Wanda felt tears well up in her eyes again when she thought of how only by some miracle, she hadn't killed her brother.

Loki put a hand on her arm. "Now, now, Wanda. You mustn't cry. We all nearly murder our siblings sometimes."

"I'm pretty sure that's not true," said Happy.

"It is in Asgard. Just ask Sif if you don't believe me. One time, she was—well, let's just say it was 'that time of the moon,' and Heimdall made the mistake of asking her what was wrong. She was holding a fish cleaning knife at the time, and she turned around and gutted him as if he were a flounder. I promise you, I am not making this up."

Happy arched an eyebrow at him. Wanda wasn't sure why, but she burst out laughing. It might have been a sort of hysterical laughter, but it felt good to laugh all the same.

Steve's group had been over the Atlantic when Leonard had ended their call, so it was still going to be at least a couple of hours before they could expect back up. As it turned out, there really wasn't much to do in the bunker. Karla had suggested watching Gigli but had been outvoted. Betty had suggested playing charades but had also been outvoted. Bruce didn't have any suggestions; he still seemed a little lethargic after everything that had happened.

Leonard had started going through the drawers in Ross's desk, thinking that there might be some sort of incriminating evidence in there. Something to definitively prove that he was running an unauthorized military operation, or that he was connected to HYDRA or some other subversive organization, or—Leonard wasn't really sure.

Instead, he had found a deck of playing cards. Karla had suggested a game of strip poker, but again, she was outvoted. Somehow, they had ended up playing "War" instead.

"This is boring," Karla complained as she tossed her losing card onto the floor in front of her.

"I hate to admit it, but Karla has a point," Bruce agreed as he discarded his own card. "War is entirely a game of chance. There's no strategy involved—"

"You two are just sore because you're losing." Betty picked up their cards; she had already accumulated more than half the deck.

Leonard was already out, and had been watching them finish the game. He yawned. "I'm sure that Steve and the others will be here soon. Although, I'm not really sure what they're going to—" He was interrupted by the sound of an explosion in the distance.

"That sounds like them," said Bruce. "Maybe we should end the game here."

The four of them stood, abandoning their card game on the floor. Leonard attempted to peer down the hallway to see if there was anyone coming. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Karla trying to sneak off in the other direction. Leonard turned around and grabbed her arm, but keeping hold of her turned out to be a lot more difficult without the superior strength he had possessed before.

Karla stepped on his foot, which hurt a lot more than he would have expected, considering that she couldn't have weighed more than a hundred and forty pounds. She elbowed him in the stomach, and while he was doubled over gasping for the air that had been knocked out of him, his grip loosened enough for her to pull away.

Karla ran down the hall. Betty and Bruce just watched her.

"Don't let her get away," Leonard huffed out, when he had recovered somewhat.

Bruce blinked at him. "Actually, I think we should just let her go for now. She probably won't get far, and we need to focus on getting out of here while we can."

"I agree with Bruce," said Betty. "I haven't seen the sun in months. I'm ready to leave."

Leonard resigned himself to the fact that he had been outvoted. Then he realized what it was that had been bothering him up until then. "Now that I think of it, Karla has to know how to get out of the bunker, doesn't she? Clearly, she's free to come and go as she pleases from here. Why didn't we make her show us the way out of here when we could?"

The corner of Bruce's lips quirked upwards, which was something he hadn't seen in much too long. "Because that would have made too much sense?"

Still holding his stomach, Leonard began to trudge down the hallway in the direction of the explosion. Bruce and Betty followed.

( ̵˃﹏˂̵ ) = ┏(;￣▽￣)┛

Zora still felt guilty for deceiving Captain Rogers, but she also knew that she was doing the right thing. The scepter was too dangerous to be left in the care of those who didn't understand its magic. She understood that she herself was not an adequate guardian for it, and carried it carefully, wrapped tightly in a piece of cloth.

As soon as she had reached the castle, she went out into the garden to seek out the only person she could trust with the scepter. Spotting a green cloaked figure standing with their back to her, she knew she had found them. "I brought what you requested," said Zora, announcing herself.

Queen Frigga turned around, and her eyes lighted upon the bundle that Zora held outstretched. She sighed as she stepped forward to take it. "Thank you, Zora. You've done well. Mortal though you may be, I doubt I have ever had a more reliable handmaiden."

Zora genuflected before her queen. "It is my honor to serve you." She lifted her head once more. "May I ask what you are going to do with it?"

Frigga sat down on the edge of a raised bed of coriander. She removed the cloth from the scepter gently, as if unswaddling an infant, and frowned as she examined the magical artifact in her lap. "For now I'm going to keep it hidden, but if I can I'm going to find a way to destroy it. You couldn't begin to imagine the potential for harm something like this has were it to fall into the wrong hands."

"You don't believe the Avengers could be trusted with it? Despite what I have always heard about them from Lord Doom, they seem like good people." Especially Steve; Zora had the feeling she would be able to trust him with her life were he ever to forgive her for deceiving him.

"I have no doubt that they are good people, otherwise I wouldn't trust them with either of my children. But mortals are little more than children themselves in some ways. They can be much too curious for their own good at times, as well as too clever."

"You think they would have misused it?"

Once again, Frigga wrapped the scepter in the cloth. Then she stood, turned around, and placed the bundle carefully in a large hole that had already been dug among the coriander in the raised bed. "Be a dear and fetch me a trowel."