Day 4: Acceptance

Tony was, predictably, working late into the night, but around three, he decided he was getting fuzzy, and should probably at least nap. After a nice three hours that was not too far from his usual 'I'm working' sleep patterns, he woke up feeling... strange.

Possibly it was just because he wasn't in his bed or on the couch in the workshop, and there was the whole issue where he was still figuring out how to deal with having two paths of memory leading from seven-year-old self to forty-something-year-old self. But whatever it was, it made him anxious enough that he felt the need to check in on Loki.

"Bruce?

"Bruce! Wake up! Something's wrong with Loki!"

Bruce shot out of his room so fast that Tony almost couldn't get out of his way in time. "Bring the emergency kit, top of the fridge," he said over his shoulder as he sped to his guest room. Tony did, following, rather dazed.

Loki was still asleep, but sweating and twitching restlessly, and Bruce took his pulse, realizing immediately on touching him that something was very wrong. He took out an instant cold pack, activated it and placed it on Loki's forehead.

Then he looked up at at Tony, and Clint, who was just hobbling in the door, and he didn't know exactly what to say. "I have no idea how to treat him," he said. "Even if he were Aesir, I've got no experience with that, and then there's whatever ancestry he really has and whatever magic keeps it from showing... I really can't be sure of anything, but his body temperature has been human normal the last three days, and now it's not."

Clint was biting his lips as he looked at Loki, shifting from foot to foot, wanting to be able to act.

"Thor is on his way to your floor," Jarvis said. "Perhaps he can shed some light on the situation."

"Good call, J," said Tony.

Bruce stroked Loki's hair, hoping to calm and comfort him. The boy finally opened his eyes and focused on Bruce.

"Hey, Loki," said the doctor. "How are you feeling?"

Loki looked at him blearily, and said, "My head hurts." Bruce nodded calmly, continuing to stroke his hair.

Thor entered then, coming up close and hovering over Loki, his face all concern. "What ails him?" the elder prince asked.

"I don't know, I was hoping you could tell me. His temperature is elevated, says his head hurts. If he were human, I'd say it was a virus, try to keep him comfortable and his temperature stable until he fought it off. But I've got no idea if that's right for him."

Thor frowned. "Aesir, Jotunn - both species are among the immortals, and such illness does not befall us. The only thing I know of that can cause symptoms such as this is when a Seidr spell goes awry."

Tony looked down at himself. "You mean the reversion went wrong? It seemed to work for me. I'm not sick."

As he watched them speak, Loki frowned, and then began to cry.

"What is it?" Bruce asked. "Are you in more pain?"

"I wanted to keep it," Loki said. "My half of the spell. But it's..." Loki gestured vaguely, searching for the right word, the right image. "...unraveling."

Clint bit his bottom lip hard. Bruce took in the words, then asked, "Does that mean that you'll turn back into your older self?"

"No!" said Loki forcefully. "I won't! I want to keep being me!"

Clint had to leave, then, trying to be subtle but, lacking his usual composure, fumbled with the door handle. Bruce looked after him with concern.

"Bruce. Go," Tony said. "I'll keep him cool. Also I think we need to have a talk, just us kids. Thor, you can stay, decent character reference."

"Are you sure?" Bruce asked, looking hesitantly from Loki to Tony and back again.

"Go," Tony said, giving him a gentle push. So Bruce went.

Clint was sitting at the counter, head drooping low over his arms, which were crossed on the surface in front of him. "I shouldn't have... I knew it might not last, but I thought... I don't now what I thought. That he'd be better off any way but how he turned out?"

"You don't think much, you just feel your way along," Bruce said. "It's a good thing."

"All right, so what now? I didn't... I never expected to love the kid. And I don't want him to die, of course not, but... he's Loki. What's this gonna do? Make him laugh at how sentimental I was over him, probably. Can't we figure out a way? Send him to Asgard, maybe someone there can fix the spell."

Bruce shook his head. "Thor was worried about sending Tony through, not just because he's a human kid, I think. There's also a possibility of the two magical fields interacting. And if the spell on Loki is as unstable as he says it is right now... the journey could kill him."

Bruce slid a hand over Clint's shoulders, deftly avoiding the worst of the bruises. "God, I'm sorry, Clint. I know the kid means a lot to you. Whatever happens, you made these days really good for him."

"I told him he killed people. Talked Thor into telling him he was adopted. Are you kidding? He's been terrified the whole time. And now, the person he is, is just going to disappear." Clint hid his face, but his voice held that particular quiet harshness of tears.

Bruce ever so gently wrapped his arms around him, and said in his ear, "None of this was wasted. Loki wants more than anything to stay here with us. We must have done something right. He feels safe here. I think you have some idea of how much that means."

"I don't think I can take it," Clint said, his voice a gravelly whisper. "Door one, he chooses to die because I told him about a man he could have become. Door two, all the memories he has of us get put back into that crazy brain where they might not mean anything ever again. And every time I see him I'll wonder. Do they mean anything? Is that kid in there at all? Was he right? Is this worse than dying?"

Bruce held him, and wished he could do more.

Tony looked at Loki, small and shivering on the bed.

"We really have to talk," he told the kid. "I'm guessing you've heard some pretty bad things about the Loki I knew before this. I'm here to tell you, that's not the full story, not by a long shot." He got in loki's face, pointing a finger for emphasis. "And don't you think about giving up, not before you've heard the rest."

Loki's wide eyes told Tony that he definitely had the kid's attention.

"I miss him. Grownup you?" he said. "Best snark in the business. What'd you call it? Flyting? Anyway, it was fun. And yeah, you did some - sorry, he, he did some kind of awful things his first time fighting us, but, well, it's almost like it was a game and he hadn't quite figured out the rules. He hasn't done anything really outrageous in ages. And actually, I think I'm close to convincing him that it's more fun to be the hero than the villain. For one thing, you don't have to spend all your time hiding. And it doesn't even mean not doing fun illegal things. Hell, I do fun illegal things all the time. Hang on, I think I'm getting off track here."

Tony made sure he still had Loki's attention. "The point is," he said, "I'm still in here, I'm that same kid you met. I just got back a bunch of memories, which is... bizarre, but mostly good, I think. And that invitation? It still stands. Stay here. Be my friend. Learn to be a superhero."

Tony's nose wrinkled as if he were allergic to his own sincerity. "Or not. Do whatever you want to do after you remember what all your reasons are. But just... you don't have to leave. I'll take whatever version of you I can get." Tony distracted himself by checking Loki's temperature and readying another cold pack.

"He's not bad?" Loki asked, forehead wrinkling.

"Nope," Tony said confidently. "Just made a few bad calls, and who hasn't?" Tony winced just slightly again. "Really? He's a lot like me, before this." Tony tapped the arc reactor. "Or after, really, I'm not fooling myself. But I only knew him during the worst times in his life. Everything before that? You'd have to ask Thor about."

Tony flopped down on the bed, sitting up against the headboard and a little apart from Loki, eyes on his tablet to yield the floor to Thor.

Loki looked up at the imposing figure his brother had become. "Do you want him back?" he asked.

"More than anything," said Thor, promptly and emphatically, in a tone that left no room for doubt. "My brother Loki has stood beside me in battle for centuries, saved my life more times than I can count. There is nothing that could convince me that I am better off without him. He is worth anything, any trouble."

Loki chewed his lip, contemplating. "I need Clint," he said finally, resolutely trying not to pout. "Can I talk to him?"

"Jarv, how's it looking out there?" Tony asked.

"I am not certain," Jarvis replied, "but I will ask."

Several minutes later, Clint came into the room again, stopping in the doorway for a moment before going straight up to Loki and smoothing back his hair, saying, "Hey, kid, sorry I bailed. This is all just... really tricky, huh?"

Loki reached up to squeeze his wrist, a greeting and an agreement. "Clint?" Loki managed, but was hesitant to continue.

"Yeah, Loki?" Clint encouraged.

"Do you think... you could get to like older me? Even just a little?"

"Oh, Lokes," Clint said, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the boy's temple. "I don't think I'll be able to keep from loving you. Even if you keep being angry and confused and kind of mean. It's gonna be very weird. But I'll deal. I... want you to change back. Okay? Can you do that for me?"

Loki clutched Clint's arm a little harder now, and said, "I'll try."

Steve and Natasha had apparently been hovering close by, pestering Jarvis for updates, since soon they were in the room as well - all six Avengers were there with their attention on Loki, even Tony, who was pretending it wasn't, for which Loki was grateful.

"Now?" Loki asked.

"Yeah, before it gets any worse," Clint said. "It's okay. This is gonna work out."

Loki took a steadying breath, put a hand on either side of his head, and said, "Revert."

There was green light, and then Loki looked at them all, disoriented, then frowning, then glaring. Finally he looked down at his own naked torso, still half hidden by the blanket, and waved his arms to conjure clothing, leathers, green and black. He considered the Avengers for a moment longer, then began.

"And what now, then? Take me prisoner, let all your promises fall by the wayside?"

"Well, I guess that's up to you," said Natasha.

"Don't be ridiculous," he spat. "You are Earth's heroes. You expect me to believe that I am free to go, if I wish?" He narrowed his eyes. "And what extraordinary promises would you wish to extract from me before you would let that happen?"

"Nothing much," Tony said flippantly, eyes still on his tablet.

"Ah, here we are," said Loki, turning to look at Tony. "Now we have the truth. What are your conditions?"

Tony turned eyes fully on Loki now, incredulous annoyance burning into the god. "Would you just fucking stop and think? Remember everything that happened and then tell me it was all some kind of ploy to get something out of you. Baby Loki trusted us, and maybe you should trust him, because sometimes he can be a hell of a lot smarter than you." Tony took a breath, and watched Loki, who was staring at him blankly. Tony wrinkled his nose, displeased. "All right, I'm gonna ask for something; it's not a condition, it's a request. Before you go, eat with us?"

Loki frowned defiantly. "What purpose can that possibly serve? Unless you actually believe the ridiculous promises you told my child self. That I could be turned. That I could be made a hero."

Tony just grinned. "Now you're getting it."

"It will not work to bribe me so. I will not be your pet. I am no longer a child, and I am not some helpless, broken creature you can tame. I am not... Toothless." His face wrinkled in disgust. "By the Nine, what drivel have you been putting in my head?"

Tony shrugged. "Can't blame us for trying."

At some unspoken signal, the other Avengers began to leave the room, first Natasha and Steve, then Bruce prodding a reluctant Thor. Next Tony stood up.

"I'm gonna ask Bruce to make french toast, now that I remember he's amazing at it. Come out when you get hungry." And he gave a little wave and a smile, and left the room, so it was just Loki and Clint.

Clint was looking at Loki calmly and a bit sadly. Loki looked back, eyes narrowed. "What purpose does all this serve? Why would you possibly - you're not even armed. After what I did -" Loki's eyes widened and he looked at Clint again, wondering and confused. "You could have taken your revenge so easily," he said with disbelief and a touch of fear. "Why did you not? Was it not sweet enough, when I did not remember my crimes?"

Clint could see it all so easily now, the lost and confused boy inside him, and he wanted to reach out and comfort, though he knew that wouldn't be welcomed right now.

"Here's the thing about revenge," he said, and he could see Loki stiffen by the barest fraction, anticipating the blow, always waiting for the other shoe to drop. "If everybody took their eye for an eye, every one of us would be crippled or dead many times over. All of us have done things that have broken someone else. And we all know that it's never actually that simple." Clint bit his lip, frowning. "I remember you told me that I had heart. That the Tesseract touches us all differently. It picked me up and used me, took away everything except my knowledge and my training and my ability to complete the mission. You don't need heart for that. Which makes me wonder what it did to you."

Loki laughed dryly. "What sentimental nonsense are you concocting now? I was playing the villain on Asgard long before that trinket touched my mind."

"Right, because I didn't feel at all like a heartless tool before the thing convinced me that was all I was. And here you are, what, trying to argue yourself into a prison cell? You really want your choices taken away, don't you?"

That sounded more apt than Clint had meant it to, and he caught Loki's eye.

"How?" the god yelled, leaning close to Clint, trying to intimidate. "How can you stand to be near me? Unprotected in my presence! I took you and warped you and took away what you most value!"

"Choice," said Clint, clearly and calmly."I choose my own weapons, I choose my own missions, I choose who to trust. And I appreciate that more than ever now, and I choose to trust you."

"You are indecipherable, and a fool," said Loki.

"Listen to me, Loki. I know you're in there, kid. And the thing is, you've still got the choice to be you. You remember what I made you promise? Let's just neither of us blame ourselves for the things you did before, that you wouldn't do now." He looked into Loki's eyes, and he spoke earnestly. "Just don't listen to any of it, and come back to us, and let us teach you how to live all over again."

Loki's jaw tightened. "It's far too late for that," he said harshly.

"Never," Clint said. "I thought so once, when I was nineteen and deep in organized crime. Natasha thought so once, and, well, I've told you about that already. But it's never too late. Choices are only inevitable if you let them make themselves. Every moment has got infinite possibilities."

Loki narrowed his eyes again, staring at Clint, taking a considering breath. "You are profoundly foolish," he said at last. "I cannot be trusted. You should be putting me in chains."

"But?" said Clint, prompting him to continue.

"But I will join you in your meal."

Clint smiled radiantly, and Loki shook his head at the incomprehensibility of mortals.

They ate french toast with blackberry jam, and Natasha, at least, kept a cautious eye on him, but no more so than when he had been seven. Thor slapped him on the back and grinned, and overall treated him much as he had before, except when Loki spoke, now, Thor listened harder, as if the universe's secrets were buried in his words.

Bruce watched him, but it was mostly fascination and a hint of sadness, and as he leaned over to put the extra butter down, he laid a hand on Loki's shoulder, and Loki let it happen. He'd noticed Bruce do the same thing with Tony when the engineer had asked for more food.

Tony goaded Loki into speaking more about magic, and it was surprisingly enjoyable, now that they each had more knowledge to work with and less pressure to actually figure anything out. The engineer alternately mocked gently and flirted shamelessly, and Loki enjoyed it despite himself, although he still wondered if it was just part of how the mortal flyted, or if he actually meant it on some level.

The first time, he had thought it obvious mockery, and thrown the man out a window, he now recalled - another choice on the long list of those that had seemed, at the time, inevitable, but had helped nothing. Well, the mortal had survived and had lived to mock him and goad him and distract him every time they met.

Clint kept pulling Bruce aside for kisses, and at one point pulled the doctor down onto his lap, saying, "Sit! Eat!"

"All right, all right, there is another chair, you know," Bruce replied, laughing.

But Clint also sent assessing glances in Loki's direction, looking for something in the god's green eyes.

There was nothing here that the God of Lies understood, and the only way he could make sense of it at all was through the eyes of his seven-year-old memories. They told him these were his second family, that Clint had his back, that Tony might get carried away but that he really did care, that Bruce - the container for the Beast that he had seen no sign of today - was, as himself, the most careful, intentional, gentle and thoughtful being, and that he would not willingly harm anyone under any circumstances.

Loki was truly bewildered.

Once the meal seemed mostly complete, he decided to test their word. "May I go now?" he said. Six solemn faces turned to him.

"Yes," said Clint. "But we'd like you to come back."

"Why would I do that?"

Tony shrugged expressively. "Because I throw the best parties," he said. "I don't know. Whatever works. Come up with something. Come attack us, even. For old time's sake."

"Or you coud not do that," Clint said, a little humorously, a little sad. "Remember. Every moment."

Loki didn't go far, just took the elevator to the roof, shape shifted into a bird and took off between the skyscrapers. He hopped around Central Park for a while, then flapped over to Harlem, cocking his head contemplatively at the large dents in the pavement.

It was simpler, being a bird. Pigeons only cared about a few things. They didn't care about pride and glory and Valhalla. They just liked food, and being dry, and other pigeons. It was really pretty great.

That evening, as Clint was about to get off the elevator onto his floor, Jarvis gave him a heads up about what he might find - Loki, sitting on his sofa, head slightly bowed and looking like he had mixed feelings about being here.

"Loki," Clint said, and when the god looked up at him, there was so much of the lost little boy, and Clint had to sit down next to him and pull him close, and the fact that Loki let him told Clint everything he needed to know.