AN: Ok, so this is probably the fastest I've ever updated anything in my life. I don't promise I'll keep this rhythm up, but since writing more was one of my new years' resolutions, hopefully you'll hear from me more often. As always, thank you to everyone who's reviewed and favourited, you guys make my day. And a quick question. I've noticed that since I write with my word processing program set to British English, some words keep their Us where the American don't have them. I don't "Americanpick", if that's even a word. Does this bother anyone?
5
"Loki!" Comes the banging from outside his door, "Dude, come on, it's been three days. You have to leave the room sometime!"
Loki burrows deeper into his sheets and says nothing.
"Loke!" Tony's becoming much more insistent since Loki has refused to reply to anything for the last few days. "Look, I know you're alive in there, so I would really appreciate it if you stopped ignoring me."
Ah, yes. Jarvis must be able to tell he's awake and listening.
The banging starts again. "Okay, that's it! You have until noon to leave that room or I'll force the door open. You hear me? I don't like taking your privacy from you but nobody's seen you in a while and we're worried. So there. Ultimatum. Last call."
Loki sighs and turns his back to the door, lifting his bloodied and (fuck) still blue hands up to his face. What he's doing is pitiful, he knows as much, but he still can't gather the force of will to get himself out of bed and face… well, anyone. How is he meant to go to Asgard, stand up to his adoptive father, and demand fair treatment of his son in this hideous cerulean skin? How is he to stand before his adoptive brother and the people he's taken to calling friends and help them when he's looking like the villain all over again? How does he expect to release Sleipnir from his asgardian clutches, recover his magic and make his life on Midgard like he'd hoped to do, while looking so perfectly alien? He feels weak, in mind and in body, and helpless in a way he hasn't felt since he discovered he had magic.
"Master Loki," calls Jarvis into the room a long while later, "Sir has asked me to inform you that he's overriding the lock on your door as we speak and that, in his words, 'you better not be buck naked or dead or anything when I get in there'."
It's mere seconds later that Tony's walking into the room, dressed in his usual garb of a band t-shirt and jeans. "So me and Thunderbolt had a chat and then me and the internet had a research marathon and now I'm sort of knowledgeable on Frost Giants. Care to tell me what brought on this monumental sulk you got going on?"
Loki hasn't even acknowledged he's in the room and just clutches his blankets tighter around himself.
"Still gonna ignore me?" Tony asks with a sigh. "It's not like you to be so self-deprecating, what with the flashy armour and the ego complex."
Tony approaches the bed and finally takes in the state of the lump beneath the covers. "I hate to be the grownup here, Loki, but at the very least," he says reproachfully, "you're getting up to clean that mess off your arms." He tugs Loki into a sitting position and the sorcerer surprisingly complies. "Come on." He turns a small smile on Loki while they walk towards the bathroom.
Tony makes quick work of filling the sink with water and then cleaning dried blood off Loki's hands and forearms with a washcloth. When he decides the scabbed over wounds don't need bandages, he puts everything away again and asks Loki, "Have you eaten like, at all while you've been locked up in here?"
Loki shakes his head and Tony grabs his elbow and begins dragging him out of the room, muttering something that sounds like "Hate to be the grownup," again. He releases Loki and the man follows docilely.
"Wait," he says inside the elevator and points at Loki, "Frost giant, right?" Loki sighs and nods, sagging. "You said I'd get frostbite if I touched you before." Loki nods again, confused. Tony reaches over and pushes the button for the 30th floor quickly. "Jarv?" he calls almost frantically now, "get us to the pool and lower the temperature of the water as much as you can. Frosty here has a fever."
"Yes, sir," the AI replies.
"This is the last time," he starts exasperatedly, turning to Loki with a stern face as the elevator slows to a stop, "that you let something like this happen, man."
"And why?" Loki sulks. He can see Natasha still doing laps in the water with her distinctive black bathing suit with the red hourglass shape in the front, her rigorous training regime having been reduced to swimming because of the damage to her wrist.
"Because," Tony starts, shoving the taller man roughly, "otherwise you're just letting things happen to you and not doing anything good for yourself. Or whoever 'S' is, don't think I forgot about that little secret you're keeping."
"What right do you have, mortal, to try to interfere in the life of Gods?" Loki spits angrily, turning to face the engineer and looming threateningly over him, his back to the edge of the pool.
"If the gods in question are being so gigantically pigheaded, I'd say I can take some liberties." Tony replies without missing a beat and simply shoves Loki into the pool. The Jötunn trips backwards and lands in the cold water with a loud splashing noise. Natasha swims over when she sees him fall in and looks strangely at Tony while Loki gets himself floating upright and splutters at the other man.
"Everything all right, guys?" She asks. She's very cautious not to make any mention about Loki's new colouring, but watches both of them intently while kicking slowly.
"Nat, aren't you freezing?" Tony asks, surprised. The last he knew, the water could get pretty cold.
"Ever heard of ice swimming?" She asks Tony with a wide smirk. Figures she and Loki would bond over frozen water of all things, for he notices Loki isn't in the pool anymore while Tasha gazes at him funnily, and then the world shifts and he's wading in the near-frozen water, shivering as Loki cackles madly and then slides back in with the both of them, drenched clothes and all.
"Nice," he mutters dryly, splashing water at Loki's face. "Real glad to know you're feeling better," he huffs.
"I am now," Loki replies, still giggling, anger from before clearly forgotten. "You look like a wet cat." This causes Natasha to smile as well.
"Yeah, yeah. Laugh now, Lokes." He reaches over and shoves Loki's head underwater before heading for the stairs to get out of the pool. He slips on the wet tile, managing to get his footing back and not falling flat on his face, but by now it's too late and there's a pair of masochistic idiots (seriously, who likes water that cold?) outright laughing behind him.
Loki winds up staying with Natasha for a while. The Widow is still as perceptive as she was in the Helicarrier that first time they met, and chooses to fill the ensuing silence herself. She tells Loki stories of her childhood in Russia, stemming from the ice swimming comment, and, in a show of trust Loki's not sure he deserves, she winds up retelling the story of how she met Clint.
"For a while there," she says then, eyes downcast, "after I realised I didn't have to keep doing what I'd been doing just to stay alive, I kind of hated myself."
Loki wishes he wasn't frozen by that declaration, because he doesn't need her pity, but then he thinks about leaving right then and he can't. Aside from the fact that it would be incredibly rude and that he doesn't want to get in the woman's bad side again, he finds he wants to listen to her story. At least a bit. He's wrapped up in his own guilt over past wrongs, and succumbing to his own hatred of what he is, and in some part of his brain, he knows that staying to listen can only help.
"I was so wrapped up in that… loathing," Natasha continues, "that I couldn't even see the good I was doing elsewhere. My first missions for S.H.I.E.L.D I completed almost on autopilot, obeying orders just like I had done before. And then Clint suggested that I just… stop. As simple as that. Stop the hatred, the guilt. He told me about his time in the circus," Loki nods at that, having seen parts of it in Barton's memories when the man was possessed by his sceptre.
"He said," she resumes, "that that I shouldn't fixate on things I have no power to fix. That I should try to do good and redeem myself not for a position in any organisation, or even to be accepted into any country and have a nationality again, but for my own peace of mind. Hating yourself for who you are and what you've done, will not make you a better person. It will not undo what's done. And it will hold you back," she finishes.
"Thank you," is the only thing Loki can think to say. He doesn't specify whether he's thanking her for the advice, for the trust, the company, or even for the help in tossing Tony into the pool, but he feels more grateful and more at peace than he's been in a while.
"Don't mention it," she counters simply, "Clint is the one who should take the credit for it, to be honest."
"Then he, and you, are very wise, lady Natasha," Loki says in parting, before climbing out of the water and heading for his room again.
_oOo_
"My apologies for the mess, Jarvis," he says, towelling his hair dry in the bathroom of his floor.
"It's quite all right, Master Loki," the AI replies amicably. "Sir is always looking for simple tasks for Dummy to perform."
"I'll never understand why he fixed the creature but managed to leave him just as ungraceful," Loki huffs.
"It is my belief that if he hadn't done so, Sir would easily get bored without his helpers. He seems to have become attached to them."
"That he does," is Loki's response. He sighs, looks down at his unfortunately blue hands and braces himself. "Where is Thor at the moment? Is he still in the tower?"
"Yes, he's in his chambers watching television. Adventure Time seems to amuse him to no end."
"Thank you, Jarvis," he says and sets out for the elevator. He needs to have a chat with his brother dear that's long overdue.
Loki's palms are sweating by the time he knocks on Thor's door. He's unsure of the welcome he'll receive, what with his Frost Giant appearance, but apparently he shouldn't have worried, for he's soon engulfed in a tight and, frankly, uncomfortable hug preceded by a cry of "Brother!", though he notices the blonde is taking care not to touch his skin, weary of frostbite.
Loki, who normally would have protested at the title, chooses to let it slide. As much as it bothers him, if Frigga was his mother, Thor, with their friendly competition and the impulse to take care of each other, is his brother as well. Besides, he could use and ally within Asgard soon.
Thor, when he finally releases the sorcerer, beckons him inside in a friendly manner and asks, "How can I help you, Loki?"
It's strange that he makes no mention of Loki's blue complexion, but Loki supposes it's because he, more than the others, has had time to adjust to the idea.
"I've come to ask for a favour," Loki says plainly.
"Name it, brother," Thor booms happily, "and if I can help you, I shall."
"Ah. See, Thor, I don't mean to be rude," He continues, showing more confidence than he really feels, "since you did save me from a very unfortunate mishap with the Dwarves, but you owe me."
Thor is silent for a moment before saying, "I did the only thing I could think of, and while I deeply regret the damage I had to do unto you, I won't apologise for saving your life."
"Nor do I require an apology," Loki waves the comment away. "I do, however, need you to do as I ask. It's important to me. And I also need you not to inquire behind my motives." He's very close to wringing his hands nervously.
Thor sighs and puts a hand on his clothed shoulder carefully. "Ever since we were but children I've trusted you with my life. There have been some moments in the last years where I've questioned that trust, but for the last few months you have done nothing to earn my doubts, while I have done much to the contrary." Thor smiles shyly down at Loki then, "If I can repair your trust in me through this, Loki, believe that you have my full support."
Loki takes a deep breath, then nods at his adoptive brother. "I've come to ask you not to use the Bifrost for the foreseeable future. Please," his voice starts to break and he has to take another deep breath, "I beg of you, barring life-threatening emergencies, that you remain here."
"That is a very strange request, Loki," Thor says, and Loki waits with bated breath as Thor considers it and finally nods. "I'll use the opportunity to visit the lady Jane more often," he states with a smile.
"Thank you," Loki breathes out, and reaches for Thor's vambrace to shake. Thor's hand closes around his forearm as well, smile still firmly on his face.
"You're welcome, brother."
Loki still can't bring himself to reply in kind, though with Thor's help in this he feels a weight lift from his shoulders. Thor's been forgiven for the thread in his mouth those months ago (once Loki'd understood that it was necessary), but he's still reluctant to trust him fully because of his allegiance to Odin. Should he react this well to the news that he has a nephew, when the time comes to tell him, he'll earn the monicker back.
For the first time in several weeks, and though still blue, Loki feels hopeful.
_oOo_
The next morning, Loki makes it down for Breakfast of his own volition, showered and dressed in black and grey clothing. The green he favours clashes terribly with his complexion, now. He sips his tea in silence as the familiar sights and sounds of the Tower coming to life settle around him. This time, Steve puts much more food on the table, accounting for Thor and his appetite. Tony is the last one to arrive, apparently coming from his workshop if his greasy t-shirt and blackened hands are any indication.
"Hey Loke, good to see ya," he calls happily after he's grabbed a much needed mug of coffee. When he reaches for the food, though, he gets a slap on the back of the hand from Bruce, who wields a wooden spoon threateningly at the engineer.
"Go," he says, "Wash, and then you can come get your food."
"But Moooooom!" Tony whines in good nature, but still goes to clean himself up a little.
They eat quickly, and then Natasha grabs Barton by the collar of his shirt and starts to drag him out from his animated conversation with Thor. The spies are both dressed in full gear.
"You're going on missions with that?" Bruce asks, pointing at the woman's splinted wrist. The break had warranted a cast, Loki knows, but she was adamant that it would only slow her down.
"'S jus' recon," Clint confirms, chugging down what's left of his cereal.
"Just…" Starts Banner again.
"I know," she rolls her eyes jokingly, "I'm not 100% on my game, mind the wrist, and if I make it worse you're forcing the cast on me and making it pink." She grins as the pair make their way out.
"Hey, Hocus Pocus," Tony says when they're done with their food and Steve has taken dish duty, "Come with me, I need your input on something."
The smile on Tony's face is pure mischief to Loki, and he knows that whatever it is, Tony's been working on it for hours. He seems ridiculously proud, too. Loki's only rarely been to the workshop, and mostly it's been in order to call Tony back to the surface world when necessary, but he knows this is where Tony… tinkers, for lack of a better word. He used to do much the same with magic back in Asgard years ago.
"Okay, so, ever since…" Tony pauses, Loki only one step behind him as they make their way through several empty display cases and busy bots, "Well, ever since Thor fell down from the sky, really, but mostly since Pepper and all… that," he points at the displays Loki knows used to hold several of the wormhole-panic-induced MKs 8 through 42, "I've been wondering about magic."
"Yes," Loki replies wryly, "and pestering me about it at your convenience."
"Not the point-"
"In fact, you're about to do it just now," Loki interrupts, crossing his arms over his chest with a smug smirk.
"Okay, yes, that is the point," concedes Tony.
Loki huffs out a laugh and prompts, "Go on…"
"Well, do you remember anything about Extremis several months ago?" he asks, a transparent display appearing in front of him.
"I watched the news on it, and I do remember you cured miss Pepper of it."
"Well, that's the thing, I don't think I did." He shakes his head. "Well, I mean, I did, but apparently I reversed it, too. Pep can't heal like she could anymore. She's not gonna go boom, either, which is good, I guess, but then I started thinking."
"Dangerous, that," Loki quips.
"Oh, shut up," Tony chuckles. "Anyway, the reason all those people were blowing up spontaneously was just an energy imbalance, right? Their bodies not able to process the heat that was coming from them healing themselves. And that was a lot of leftover energy," he shows Loki a map on the screen, "each of these spikes is over 3000 degrees."
"And magic would control that, yes?"
Tony nods. "It did already, I mean you don't go firecracker whenever you heal someone, right?"
"Not normally, no," replies Loki bitterly, looking down at his hands and the dreaded runes.
"But there's the thing. You said that healing is something that comes easily to you. How long do the healers in Asgard have to train to be able to do what you did with me the other day?"
"At least a decade," Loki replies suspiciously. He thinks he understands what Tony's getting at, and he's not sure he likes it. "Get to the point, Tony."
"You have to use your magic to trigger the healing process, right?"
Loki nods.
"And then this starts an exothermic reaction, a big one, in the body. Then what follows is that when you don't control it, you end up like a strip of crispy bacon. But you can control it through magic. Which must somehow be an endothermic reaction."
"The point, Tony." Loki rolls his eyes impatiently.
"Summarized? Endothermic reaction equals healing, healing magic equals frosty magic, frosty equals you, and basically Jotun, or however you pronounce it, make good healers because they're cold and you've been performing Frost Giant magic all your life," Tony finishes quietly, almost reverently, and with a healthy fear of Loki's reaction.
"Excuse me, what?!" Loki gapes.
"Look," Tony makes a slicing gesture with his hands, "forget about Extremis and explosions and reactions. The only magic you've been able to do since you got here has been of the healing variety, and even if you call it parlour tricks you managed to save my life even with those rune thingies on you."
He steps closer to a still paralyzed Loki. "I think these," he resumes, turning Loki's palms up to show the newest rows of scabs, "reacted to the spell that was keeping you looking Asgardian and not to your natural magic. Because that Bond villain character you call Allfather could have no way to bind it if he doesn't know how it works."
"I still can't perform most of my spells or enchantments," Loki says, shaking his head.
Tony's face lights up with a wide grin. "I told you yesterday I got Jarvis to research the Yohtuns or whatever-"
"Jötunn," Loki corrects dazedly.
"Yeah, that." He rummages in a drawer on his desk and hands Loki a small cardboard box with the word 'Bicycle' written on it in flowy script.
"Playing cards?" Loki frowns at him, puzzled.
"Yer not a wizard, Harry," Tony intones to Loki's further confusion. "Wasting my references, here," he mutters. "Frost Giants are mages and I couldn't get you a tarot deck or any of that other mumbo-jumbo. You get to practice with those until I finish your actual deck. Can't have you going into battle with us with only gas station playing cards."
Loki blinks owlishly at him and says nothing.
"Okay, you gotta give me something here," Tony says uncertainly.
"I have magic?" Loki asks finally, opening the small box and fanning out the cards with a tentative smile.
"This whole Frosty the snowman business not sounding so bad now, huh?"
Loki flicks a five of diamonds at an empty display case behind Tony and the card cuts through the security glass easily, staying stuck halfway through.
"Oh, it's on!" Tony cheers and pumps a fist.
Loki outright laughs, torn between happiness and relief and high on the buzz of power. "Next time you call me Frosty that card will be going through you," he threatens. Tony can't take it seriously, though, because seconds later he's being tugged into a tight hug, complete with a friendly pat on the back.