Ok, a small warning: this chapter and the next one are pretty short. Shorter than I really wanted, and I debated mashing them together, but they just didn't seem to fuse and I was getting insanely frustrated with the attempt and I was loathe to get rid of the dramatic cliff-hangery /FEELS/ at the endings/beginnings! So sorry, and hope you bear with me for the interim of internal Tony monologuing…. and I promise to write some longer chapters soon!
Also sorry if it feels like I'm dragging this whole scene out, but I like build up and I'd rather overcompensate than skyrocket to SEXYTIME and have it all sounding rushed… (um, yeah, I just like to waffle, pretty much). So I get the feeling this fic will be pretty long!
Once again, all your R+R's are making my day. Any more comments an/or suggestions welcome, AS ALWAYS! :D
Chapter 5. Assault.
Loki spun round, his mouth forming a solid 'O' in shock, his eyes fixed upon the colossal green mass that had suddenly materialized in their midst. Holding his sceptre across his torso like a shield, he angled the point in the direction of the Hulk and executed his second signature move: the blast of the white hot magical flame intended to incarcerate any opponent any on the spot.
It had absolutely no effect whatsoever on the angry giant. Unless you counted making him even more incensed, provoked by the hostile intention in Loki's action more than the exertion of it, which must have felt like a minor tickle (if anything). With a roar that shattered the few remaining windows panes, the Hulk drew up short, punching a table full of screens and gadgets out of the way, and swiped a gigantic fist in Loki's direction. Loki narrowly missed being pulverized by teleporting to the opposite side of the room, leaving the Hulk snatching at a faint Loki-shaped flutter in the air. Tony had already hastened to launch himself off his stool and had dived behind the bar, almost dislocating his shoulder when the floor met his body with a dodgy angle and a large crack.
Confused and surprised by the sudden disappearance of his target, the Hulk gave another deafening roar and swung his body round, knocking over a line of artistically arranged frond-y plants (Tony had never bothered to learn what they were, Pepper was in charge of designing the space; Tony with using it) and making a sizeable dent in the granite table just shy of the bar where Tony hid. Dust billowing around him, and rubble crumbling at his feet, the Hulk surveyed the room for a sight of Loki. Or anything that moved. Tony knew enough from what Dr Banner had said with bitter affection that 'the other guy' lost most of his cognitive skills when he transformed and could barely distinguish his friends from his enemies; to him, anything that moved was a target. Things in his way were a target. Things not even in his way, that he simply just didn't like the look of, were a target. The Hulk was a liability as well as an aid, the most dangerous of all the Avengers. Tony knew better than to try and side himself with Banner when he had 'hulked out' as he teasingly called it, and hence was as at much risk as Loki was, and all he could do now was stay in his hiding place, praying that the beast didn't notice him or take a strong disliking to all freestanding furniture.
Catching sight of Loki over by the staircase out to the balcony, the Hulk stretched his face into the grimmest effort of a satisfied smirk ever seen and smashed his way across the room in 3 easy strides. Loki attempted a second futile fire projection, panic and anger fighting their way across his face in waves.
''STOP, BEAST!'' he shrieked, as the Hulk knocked the sceptre out of his grasp and closed his grip around the god's frame. Raising Loki into the air, the Hulk threw him bodily across the room, shattering more glass panels and demolishing a section of the fireplace as Loki crash landed into it and fell to the floor in a heap. He had barely dragged himself to his feet before the Hulk had crossed the room once more and picked him up, this time by the legs, and batted him into the wall he had just smacked into. Grunting with a mixture of fury and pleasure, the Hulk let go of Loki and the bruised god slid down onto the floor, cuts and streaks of blood covering his exposed skin. Furious, desperate and in pain, Loki staggered to his feet, spitting debris out of his mouth and clenching his fists in rage.
''ENOUGH!'' he shouted in a voice that crackled with voracity and offence. ''YOU DARE TOUCH ME! YOU ARE ALL OF YOU BENEATH ME! I AM A GOD, YOU DULL CREATURE, AND I WILL NOT BE BULLIED BY A- ''
Midway through his ear splitting tirade, the Hulk had once more grabbed Loki by the legs and proceeded to fling him upside down into the air, before bringing him smashing down into the floor like a bizarre and submissive human hammer. Over and over again the Hulk slammed the God of Mischief into the marble tiles, until there were Loki shaped craters all around his feet, and the god himself had gone limp in the Hulks grasp. Raising his 'new toy' one last time, the Hulk threw Loki down onto the ground with such force that he sunk several inches into the floor, cracking a dozen or so tiles around his perimeter and causing fault lines to erupt all the way across the penthouse, fanning out from the ungainly figure sprawled at an angle that suggested he had no unbroken bones left in his entire body.
Satisfied with his five minutes of play, the Hulk turned round in the billowing dust, muttered ''puny god'' at the defeated and pathetic bundle at his feet and headed back out through the window frame, disappearing over the balcony wall.
Staring out across the room, Tony watched the dust swirl and loop through the air, settling on the shiny surfaces of his now totally wrecked penthouse. Having a resident Hulk, even if only for a period of a few minutes, was not conducive to minimalist chic. The worst part of the damage was over by the seating area, where Loki now seemed to be a permanent fixture in the floor, rubble and debris hemming him into his self made sunken trap. Tony gingerly crawled out from behind the oversized granite whiskey cabinet and pulled himself slowly to his feet, temporarily unsure of what to do – should he approach Loki? Was Loki alive? Was this a trick, was Loki going to leap up and attack him; was he going to disappear again? – and even more unsure of the hundreds of feelings mixed in with these thoughts that were currently coursing around his body. Was Loki badly hurt? Did he want him to be? Had he really cringed at the thought of Loki in pain whilst the Hulk had been flinging him around like a fully grown rag doll?
Before he had got halfway across the room, his mind still working furiously, brimming with thoughts and feelings and shock and utter confusion, he heard a noise, a barely perceptible noise that caused another barrel of completely unexpected and perturbing feelings to spill into his mind. A low, ragged whine, the sort a dog might make if kicked, or a child who had had all the air knocked out of their lungs after falling backwards from a garage rooftop (Tony had been 7, and trying to find a suitable surface to practice launching his first rocket prototype from). It took Tony a second for his logic to catch up with his hearing, and then he realised it was Loki who had made that noise – Loki, a demi-god, stronger and more powerful than any mortal being, looking and sounding for all the world like an utterly helpless, defeated ball of pain.
Freezing on the spot, Tony's skin prickled painfully at the sound and he scanned the image that was in front of him, Loki lying bent and misshapen, his clothes curled and twisted around him, his normally-slick hair dishevelled and falling across his face, which Tony could see was covered in angry red grazes and blossoming purple blotches.
Staring at this mess that was previously the God of Mischief, Tony blinked in pure shock at the abrupt change of events, and swallowed heavily to appease the dry clawing in his throat. His thoughts were jarring together and once again he was painfully close to feeling overwhelming sympathy for Loki, (if he could kid himself he wasn't already).
He noticed that Loki's sceptre was lying a few feet away from Loki himself, mangled and bent out of shape, no doubt beyond repair. The blue ball of energy at its tip was sputtering and growing smaller by the second, looking very much like a miniature imploding star. With a small hiss and a final flicker, the glow suddenly disappeared, and its bracket was left curving around a dull, semi transparent lump of crystal.
He looked back at Loki.
He looked back at Loki and realised with a jolt there was a ball of pain inside him too, a ball of pain that had started to appear when he heard Loki plead with the Hulk, screaming about not letting the creature bully him – touched a nerve there, that did – and which was growing larger with every second he spent looking at Loki.
Then he noticed that Loki's eyes were open, and that they were now bright green.
Emerald green.
Inexplicably, his ball of pain squeezed tighter.