PART NINE
Repair

The first thing Tony noticed as the elevator door opened on the second floor of his penthouse, was that there were huge golden curtains over these windows too, and although they were partially pulled back, it was too dark outside to see anything.

The second thing he noticed was a casually-dressed Loki standing in the center of the room, scepter in hand, smiling his evil smile.

Tony then noticed Bruce standing to Loki's left, and to his right… Thor.

"Son of a bitch," Tony breathed, staring wide-eyed at Thor. Bruce had told him that Thor was changed, but actually seeing the God of Thunder reduced to mind-control slavery was a different story.

Loki laughed out loud, startling Tony, then sending a shiver down his spine. Before, the God of Mischief might have been annoyed by Tony's reaction, but not now, for some reason… And Tony suddenly had a sinking feeling, like he was the butt of some kind of sick joke.. or was about to be.

"Tony Stark. It's good to see you looking better," Loki said.

"Can't say the same to you," was Tony's reply. His tone was sarcastic, but it was a thin veneer. And it got thinner as Loki walked forward, then knelt in front of him and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"You're shaking," Loki stated calmly after a moment, his piercing blue eyes conveying no sympathy.

Tony blinked a few times, and realization crossed his features. "Yeah, that'd be because the last time I saw you, you nearly fucking killed me," he said slowly, then smiled aggressively.

Loki's eyebrows rose, and he glanced back at Bruce. "He's remembered."

"Sorry, Tony," Bruce said softly.

"For what?" Tony said too brightly, angry smile still plastered on his face, now directed at Bruce.

Loki chuckled. "Now, now," he scolded, patting Tony's shoulder before standing up again, "Don't take it out on him. He had no say in the matter."

"Not helping," Tony growled.

Tony was shaking with fear and anger. Seeing Loki again had jogged his memory, and all of the trauma he had endured and the things he heard and saw, came flooding back. He remembered bleeding out on the pavement, feeling his suit go dead then his limbs go numb, unable to move or even speak, as he listened to Loki and Bruce discuss saving his life like they might discuss the weather. Bruce had helped him out a little bit… but it had still hurt, and not just physically.

And now Loki was acting… weird. Well, weirder than usual. Loki used to seem so unstable, so erratic and emotional. Basically crazy wrapped in god's clothing. But now, the god looked even more frightening. This was not the same person that Tony had offered a glass of scotch to in this room just days ago. He looked very in control… even comfortable.

Tony remembered the time he spent in a terrorist's prison. This situation was very different… Loki was much too smart to allow him any means of escape. And at the end of the day, the god didn't seem to need him for anything. Tony was damaged, useless, and alone. The god was completely in control, and Tony could only wait for his fate. Would he be killed? Would Loki find a way to convert him?

Despair began to creep into Tony's mind, but he fought it with every bit of the strength he had left. As long as he had his soul, he'd search for a way out of this.

Loki smiled at him slyly, then nodded to Steve. "Lay him down."

"What— uungh," Tony grunted in pain as the Captain picked him up by his armpits again, pulling him out of the chair and kicking it away, then helping Tony to lie on the floor, face up.

"Strip him," Loki ordered, gesturing also for Bruce's help.

"What? What're you doing?" Tony couldn't hide the fear in his voice any more, as both Bruce and Steve knelt on either side of him, and started to take off his pants and unwind the bandage around his chest.

Tony was frozen for a second. Then, "Hey! Get the hell off me!" He yelled and tried to push them away, but his chest still ached quite a bit, making any fast movement or deep breath very difficult. When he learned he couldn't fight, he focused all his pain and anger in a powerful glare, right at Loki.

The god just smirked in return, his eyes bright with mirth. Tony did not like that look.

In just a few seconds, Tony was stripped completely nude. The Arc Reactor was revealed along with the rest of his body, and it glowed eerily against the dark red scabs and fragile, messily healing flesh of his chest.

"Now we're ready," Loki told him, eyeing the reactor.

Tony's stomach turned. "Ready for what, you sick fuck?"

Loki ignored Tony, walking past him to the elevator. "Bring him."

"What? …Oww! Shit, guys!" Tony yelped weakly as Steve and Bruce each looped an arm under one of his shoulders, and dragged him up to his knees. Tony bit back a whimper at feeling his wound crackle open again as his torso was strained. They turned him around and pulled him to the elevator, letting his knees drag across the floor. Tony hissed expletives the whole way.

The three men and two gods crowded into the compartment, and Thor pressed a button for the roof.

Tony took a shuddering breath to calm himself. Since Loki hadn't killed him yet, he didn't think the god would do it now. What did they want from him? As the elevator doors slowly shut on the view of his living room, Tony wondered if he'd ever see it again.

Clint didn't know why he'd ever resisted.

Submitting to the scepter's influence a second time had given him so much peace. He remembered the last time he was changed, when it felt like he'd been ripped out of his own head, and something else, something cold and cruel and sharp, settled there for a few agonizing days. He remembered the pain, feeling like a prisoner in his own body. And then he had to endure the guilt and depression that followed after Natasha had snapped him back to normal.

But this was different. He still felt like himself, still had clear, personal thoughts, judgments, and emotions… but in place of his free will, there was this overwhelming sense of calm… the tranquility of being directed by a gentle, all-knowing force, of being unafraid of the future, of having all the tough decisions made for him. It felt as if any path he took would smooth out on its own, as long as he continued to step forward with an earnest trust in Loki's power. The scepter's influence wrapped his heart in a warm blue shield, and it was the second-best thing he'd ever felt.

As for the first-best thing… that was the only element that had been missing from his new life. Natasha. But Loki had granted Clint's wishes, and used his magic to find Black Widow. She could've been anywhere, and without the God of Mischief's help, Clint would have spent months searching for her in the wreckage of New York City… though by then it would have been too late.

But Natasha was safe now, and she was changed just like him, and nothing else mattered.

Loki ordered his newly acquired pair of assassins to kill and destroy, and they enjoyed doing so. They made such a great team. As long as they were together, no one could touch them. They had full faith in each other's abilities, as well as the reassurance that Loki valued their lives, now that they were changed. The God of Mischief would teleport them out of any real harm, and did so on several occasions.

Clint would be firing arrows across the hallway of an underground military stronghold, picking off the security agents of some foreign king or other, and Natasha would be by his side, firing her pistols. One second they'd be shooting arrows and bullets through a smoky doorway, and the next, they'd feel the room spin and everything would glow gold—then they'd find themselves standing on a windy cliff top miles away, overlooking a barren desert or sparse forest. A few seconds later, a small mushroom cloud would bloom on the horizon.

Clint would take Natasha's hand, the two of them watching the distant, golden-red explosion as if it were a beautiful sunset. He wouldn't say, "My God, we could've been dead a second ago." He would say, "Great work, Natasha… You're amazing."

They'd look at each other and she would smile, blue glowing eyes shining with pride and adoration. She might be splashed with blood and dirt, but either was a fitting embellishment, bringing out the fiery red of her hair, or contrasting with the soft pale of her skin. Clint would reach out to stroke that hair or that gorgeous face, and she would lean into his touch… perfection.

The blast wave would hit several seconds later, but they'd be gone by then, teleported to the next mission, or back to Stark Tower.

If it was the Tower, Loki would leave them alone for a few hours to rest. Clint and Natasha would strip off their new black robes and silver armor, climb into the shower together, and enjoy each other's company. It was the kind of lifestyle that SHIELD would never have allowed. Theirs was an attraction that had bloomed into a secretive and dangerously strong relationship while they were on a mission in Budapest several months ago. Their employer couldn't know of it, so they kept it hidden.

But now they didn't have to. They could live however they wanted, thanks to Loki.

They stood at the edge of the rooftop of Stark Tower, enjoying the view. A fresh nighttime breeze blew in from the ocean, gently buffeting their robes. Clint wore a simple, knee-length black toga, and smooth silver gauntlets that had been fitted to his forearms. Natasha was clothed in a long, sleek, off-the-shoulder black dress, and several heavy silver bracelets were wrapped around her wrists.

New York City had stopped burning a couple of days ago, and now only smoldered gently in a few places, glowing dimly like a pile of coals. The city was still and silent on its deathbed, no people for miles, no cars honking, no airplanes flying overhead. Loki's realm was at peace.

The only sound to be heard was the steady whirr from the Tesseract in its energy bubble as it maintained the inter-dimensional portal high above the tower, and the occasional soft roar from the two Chitauri Leviathans that still circled the Tower below. Electricity was out for hundreds of miles around. Stark Tower was now the tallest building left standing on the East Coast, and the only one still lit, thanks to Tony's prototype generator and a pinch of magic from Loki.

"Are you worried about him?" Natasha's voice pushed smoothly, effortlessly into Clint's awareness.

"Who?"

"Stark. You look worried. What are you thinking about?"

Clint shook his head and grinned at her. "You."

Natasha sighed. "You should stop thinking about me, and start thinking about your job," she scolded playfully.

"Yes ma'am." Clint leaned in for a kiss, and she obliged, soft and steady.

As they parted, the elevator chimed behind them.

The elevator's doors opened to the roof, and Bruce and Steve dragged a very angry-looking and completely nude Tony Stark out of the elevator on his knees, and across the gravelly roof, towards the Tesseract.

Loki and Thor followed, and Clint nodded to them.

Tony noticed Clint and Natasha, but looked away from them when he saw their eyes. He'd wondered what happened to them… he wished he could say he was at least happy they were still alive, but he couldn't. It was a sickening thought.

His jaw clenched as he was made to kneel with his back to the Tesseract's energy bubble, and Steve and Bruce bound his hands tightly to two of the device's exterior supports. The pull on his arms caused his wound to stretch, and he grimaced, not wanting to look down to see the fresh flow of blood. Now breathing really hurt, and Tony could barely move a muscle. His back was inches away from the surface of the energy bubble, and he started to sweat as he felt its power warming his bare backside.

Bruce and Steve finished securing Tony, and stepped backwards to stand to his left.

"Hang in there," Bruce offered quietly.

Tony blinked back tears, his hurt eyes flicking quickly to Bruce's concerned face, and then to Loki who stood a few yards away to his right, whispering something in Thor's ear.

That could not be good.

Clint and Natasha walked around the other side of the Tesseract and into view. Tony shook off his earlier thoughts, and managed a glare at the two of them. He had to try something.

"If you make the obvious pun involving my name and my state of undress, I'll hold it against you the rest of my life," he ground out carefully.

Clint smirked at him, and Natasha made a show of averting her eyes.

"Not to worry," Steve said, cryptically. Tony raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well… it could be worse," Tony admitted, "At least I haven't joined the toga party."

Bruce chuckled.

"Hey, I helped design ours," Natasha defended, gesturing to her and Clint's elegant outfits.

"You helped? Really?" Tony started to laugh, but stopped abruptly, sputtering as it hurt his chest.

Bruce took a step forward as if to help Tony, but then stopped himself.

Tony took a slow breath, then looked at Natasha and his eyes darkened. "What was it like being an assistant seamstress to a mass murderer?"

She didn't answer him, just smiled serenely, and Tony felt a chill run up his spine, despite the heat from the Teseract.

"It's not like she had a choice," Bruce spoke up, startling Tony.

The Iron Man looked up into Dr. Banner's glowing blue eyes. He stared hard, searching. That little comment was pretty out of character for a scepter-brainwashed chaos-worshipper.

"What was that?" Tony murmured.

"I'm just saying, she had no choice. None of us did."

Tony felt a sudden wave of nausea wash over him, and glanced past Bruce, to Loki again. He didn't know what he was looking for, and it did nothing to help the nausea. The Tesseract's heat was starting to get very uncomfortable on top of everything else, and Tony was becoming dizzy. He let his gaze fall to the ground, and blinked a few times, slowly.

"Hey," Bruce said, and Tony felt the familiar hand on his shoulder. Bruce knelt in front of him. "I know you didn't need to hear that. I'm sorry. Uh, this is a really dumb question, but how are you feeling?"

Tony smiled sadly, then frowned as his vision went blurry and wouldn't clear when he blinked. "I'm… not, not sure," he mumbled slowly, and heard how strange his own voice sounded.

"It's okay," Bruce said, patting his shoulder, then briefly rested a hand on Tony's forehead. The doctor's hand felt cool and pleasant, and Tony tilted his head into the touch, closing his eyes.

"What's… happening? Did you… you drugged me, did..didn't you," he breathed, feeling weaker by the second.

"Sorry. But it's better this way, believe me," Bruce said again, his voice sounding distant as he stood up.

Tony felt Bruce's touch leave him, and frowned. "Fu..fuck you," he mumbled, though there was no force to it. His head lolled forward. He tried to open his eyes again, with little success. His body suddenly felt so heavy… but his chest didn't hurt anymore.

"My lord," Bruce called over to Loki. "He's ready."

Loki patted Thor's shoulder affectionately before turning and walking to where Bruce stood, in front of the now unconscious Tony Stark.

"To your stations," Loki ordered calmly, and the Avengers nodded and obeyed. The God of Mischief conjured the glowing blue scepter in his hands as he stepped forward.

Clint and Natasha took places on either side of Tony, reaching out to carefully hold his head up and grasp his biceps, to keep him completely still for the minutes ahead. Steve knelt to one side of Tony and held onto his thighs to keep his legs immobile.

Bruce Banner bowed as Loki stopped next to him.

"The device?" Loki requested, putting a hand palm-up towards the doctor, though his gaze never left Tony's prone form.

Bruce wordlessly produced a silvery-blue tool that looked like some kind of futuristic weed-puller. He placed it in Loki's open palm, and the god cocked it open with a flick of his wrist.

Clint watched, brow furrowed. "That's… that looks like that eyeball-scanning thing."

Loki smiled at Clint's apprehension. "Yes, but it has been modified."

"Your handiwork?" Clint asked Bruce as the older man knelt on Tony's other side, opposite Steve.

Bruce nodded. "I'm not exactly proud of it, but-"

"Silence. Do you have a sure hold on him?" Loki's voice was calm, though his eyes shone with excitement.

The group nodded. It would take some miracle for Tony to slip out of their combined hold in the state he was in.

Loki knelt directly in front of Tony, placing his scepter on the ground within easy reach. Without further delay, Loki activated the device in his hand, and it spun to life with a sinister whine and cold blue glow. He eased it against Tony's naked and bleeding chest, right over the Arc Reactor. The revolving metal teeth sunk into the edges of the circular implant, and began to slowly pull it out of Tony's chest. For the next minute, there were only the sickening sounds of grinding metal and wet suction. Tony was unconscious, but twitched and shuddered occasionally as the device bored into his chest.

Once the core was removed, Loki severed its wires with a touch of magic and let it fall to the ground. He then locked the extraction device once again, this time around the Arc Reactor's casing that was set into Iron Man's chest cavity.

"Steady," Loki warned, and the Avengers held on tighter. Tony was still completely out, but he was sweating bullets and it made his skin more slippery.

Loki's free hand rested against Tony's bleeding chest, right next to where the device was carefully removing the Arc Reactor casing, millimeter by agonizing millimeter. The God of Mischief's palm glowed gold, and his face was set in concentration. He used his magic, supplemented by the Tesseract's sympathetic energy field, to keep the shrapnel away from Tony's heart as he worked. He also kept the man from bleeding to death, and dulled his pain enough to deter him from waking. It was a very delicate procedure, with no room for mistakes.

The silver device suddenly jammed, going dead in Loki's hand.

The tube of the reactor casing was still a third inside Tony's chest. Blood seeped from the wide, dark hole, flowing in time with Tony's heartbeat.

"Damn," Loki breathed, unlocking and discarding the now-useless tool. His hand went instead to his scepter, which, in a flash of gold, transformed into a terrifyingly large, but thin, surgical knife. Loki raised it to Tony's chest and began to carefully carve out the rest of the reactor casing, wedging the scepter-scalpel between flesh and metal.

"Jesus Christ," Clint breathed, staring, morbidly fascinated. Natasha had gone pale but she swallowed back her nerves, continuing to watch dutifully. Steve and Bruce were closest to the action, and both carried grave expressions. Blood had completely coated Tony's previously damaged chest, and ran in thick rivulets from his stomach to his knees, down into the gravel.

"Keep him still," Loki breathed, intent on working slowly and carefully. After three more tense, painful minutes, the casing was out.

"Now… the truly difficult part."

Loki set down the scepter and pressed both of his palms to Tony's chest, right against the gaping hole that used to hold the reactor. He closed his eyes and felt with his magic, seeking out the shrapnel pieces that he knew were floating in the man's arteries, dangerously close to his heart.

Using the Tesseract's energy bubble as a magic amplifier, Loki gained control of the tiny pieces of metal within a few seconds, but extracting them was a different matter. The tissue of the arteries had to be carefully severed, the shrapnel removed, and the incision repaired all in less than a minute, for Tony Stark to survive the procedure. It was a very small window, but Loki was confident in his abilities.

"Hold," he whispered to the Avengers. Time seemed to stand still as Tony's chest glowed a bright gold, magic pulsing from Loki's hands, while streams of blue energy from the Tesseract appeared to phase through the man's back. Loki held his breath as he directed his magic to cut into flesh, and blood spurted alarmingly fast out of the hole, splashing over Loki's face and clothing and startling the Avengers. The god ignored the mess, using the strong flow of blood to his advantage, directing the shrapnel pieces out naturally. Once they had fallen harmlessly to the ground, Loki grit his teeth with effort and sent a sizable burst of magic into Tony's chest. The incision was sealed and the blood flow stopped abruptly.

"Almost…" Loki breathed, as he then worked on repairing the man's sternum where the Arc Reactor used to be. New bone and tissue was knitted together at Loki's magical influence, to fill the wound in less than a minute. In addition, Loki fully healed the gash he'd created almost two weeks ago.

Tony's chest was whole and unblemished. He was a mere man again.

"Finished," Loki finally breathed, opening his eyes. He was panting heavily, his sweat mixing with Tony's drying blood, dripping down his face. The god lowered his shaky hands before falling backwards, completely exhausted from such a concerted effort.

Loki had meant to use the scepter to change Tony now, while the man was so weak, but the procedure had leeched so much of the god's power that he fell, unconscious.

Thor rushed to Loki's side, finding him unresponsive. He looked to Bruce.

"It looks like he exhausted himself. It's okay, we can handle things from here," the doctor assured him, as Steve and the others lifted the now-stirring Tony to his feet.

Thor nodded to him after a moment, then picked Loki up effortlessly and carried him back to the elevator.