Warning - This chapter does contain a lot of Tom Hidddleston being lovely stereotypes.
Tom was hanging around backstage, waiting for it to be time for him to go out and greet the fans. It always amazed him how nice they all were. He had just recieved a lovely fan-art, that Mark Ruffalo had been kind enough to pass along, and it touched him that people took the time and effort, to do such thoughtful things.
Suddenly Tom winced. The lights around him seemed to be growing brighter, and he was worried he had a migraine coming on. He also felt a little warm, but had put that down to the fact that he was wearing his full Loki costume.
'Oh well,' he thought. It made the fans happy, and they were such lovely people. He was sure they would keep the noise down if he asked them nicely; to stop his headache getting any worse. They were always so helpful.
Judging it to be about time, Tom set off towards the stage , but realised it was a mistake after one step. The lights, which had appeared to be getting brighter, now engulfed him in bright energy, and a terrible pressing sensation clouded his mind. Feeling like he was being dragged away by his stomach, he closed his eyes out of fear. As Loki arrived triumphantly in our Universe, Tow was dragged away unwillingly to restore balance. But the journey, which had been hard nough for the God, proved too much for the actor, who passed out before reaching his destination.
Which led to quite a big surprise when he opened his eyes to find he was in a run down part of town, surrounded by the rest of his cast. He was especially shocked by the angry expressions on all of their faces; but never wanting to forget his own maners, he greeted them all as politely as was possible, considering he had just woken up after fainting, in a different part of town to where he collapsed.
"Hello everyone. Umm, sorry if I worried you," he said, guessing at the cause of their angry expressions. But a little more careful scrutiny revealed they were more than angry; most of them looked murderous. Only Chris Hemsworth was looking at him sadly, and Tom began to worry he might have done something to upset them.
"Is this some sort of practical joke, eheehee," he said uncertainly, trying to break the obvious tension in the air.
"Brother the Midgardian scientists detected a surge of energy in this place. What have you done?" said Chris, his acting so sincere, that Tom felt the sudden urge to join in.
"Perhaps enslaved humanity, perhaps just had a little fun at their expense." Tom said, trying to match Chris's performance. Either way I'm sure you'll disaprove," he continued as he got up off the ground.
Which proved pointless as moments later he was back on the floor, only this time Scarlett's thighs were digging in to his neck, tring to crush his windpipe.
"Uh Scarlett, can you stop please?" he managed to choke out, his act slipping as he struggled for air.
He saw them all exchange a strange look. Mark was looking at him with particular focus.
"It's not him," Mark said with conviction, although Tom did not know what he was so certain of. Fortunately, Scarlett's grip loosened a little at his words, and Tom was finally able to take a breath.
"How do you know?" she asked, her voice guarded, and harsh.
"When the other guy smashed him, he left a Loki sized hole in the floor. God's are made of tough stuff. You just crushed this guy's throat with your thighs. It's not him," Mark said.
"Yeah, not to mention the new attitude," Robert chimed in. "Judging by his mind meld with Katniss, Loki doen't really respect personal space boundries. This guy has kept his eyes averted the whole time you've had your legs wrapped around his neck. And judging by the way he's blushing, I think he wants you to hop off now."
As Scarlett withdrew with a frown, Jeremy drew back his bow, to aim at Tom; the two of them working in perfect synchronisation. Tom stared a litle, as he observed them all properly for the first time. They were watching him intently, tensed as if waiting for an attack. Then he took a closer Robert for the first time. True, he had been threatning to build an Iron Man suit to wear at Comic Con, but Tom doubted he could actually get real repulsors. But that seemed to have happened, as Tom saw him blast away a few pieces of litter, out of boredom.
"You... You aren't my colleagues are you?" he asked, real fear creeping into his voice for the first time.
Again, they all shared a look that consisted of mistrust, disbelief, and on what Tom now knew to be Barton's face, what could only be described as wtf.
Steve slowly lowered his shield from his defensive stance. "Son, just who the hell are you?"
"Umm, Tom Hiddleston. I play Loki. So," he glanced at the crowd assembled before him. "You guys are the actual Avengers then," he said faintly.
"You play Loki?" Natasha asked suspiciously. "What does that mean?" she demanded.
"I was cast to play Loki in the films," he aswered uncertainly. "And now I think I'm in the wrong universe."
"I don't believe this," she snarled, pulling out a knife. Tom put his hands up, just as Clint put a restraining arm on Natasha's shoulder.
"Tasha. It was my mind he was in, remember. This isn't Loki, don't take it out on him," he murmured. "And the amount of people who've messsed with my head, I really don't MIND anymore," he added grinning at his own terrible pun. The unimpressed look Natasha gave him was frightening in it's own right, but she did put away the knife, which made Tom feel slightly safer.
Tension dispersed, the rest of the team lowered their weapons, and in Bruce's case began to breathe more evenly. The Captain took his helmet off, and Tony put his visor up.
"Well, what do we do with him? If we leave him here, someone's bound to recognise him from all the New York coverage, and I don't feel right about leaving a civillian to be torn apart by a mob, whatever the circumstances," said Steve.
"We're not taking him back to base. Remember what happened last time," Natasha mono-toned.
"Tasha," Clint whispered, looking into her eyes. She relaxed slightly, and gave no further objections. Odd, Tom thought, for the world's most untrusting assassin. Unless...
"Oh my goodness, Clintasha is cannon," Tom blurted out, causing eveyone to stare at him. "Sorry," he said, suddenly mortified.
Eventually Steve took pity on him and helped him up. "We'll take you to Avengers' tower. You'll be safe there, and Tony and Bruce can run some tests to see how we can fix this. The Quinjet's a few blocks back."
The rest of the Avengers split off into groups to talk, that just so happened to surround Tom. Steve stayed by his side though, keeping up a constant stream of benine, cheerful chatter, possibly to distract Tom from the dirty looks the others kept sending him. Eventually though, Tom noticed that Thor never looked at him once.
Guilt burned through him as he realised what he looked like, and what Thor must see. He considered briefly telling Thor that Loki did still care about him deep down, but held his tongue when he realised that giving Thor false hope would be crueler than just keeping quiet. Fortunately a distraction came from Steve.
"So, you play Loki huh? You certainly got his likeness kid," he said, with an attempt at a smile that turned into a grimace along the way. "Hey," he said, brightening as a thought struck him. "Does that mean somewhere there's another me running around?"
Tom could practically see all the others ears perk up. For the first time since he woke up, he smiled.
"Yes, he's called Chris Evans. He's very like you actually. Kind, honest, always up for a laugh though. Last time all the cast were in one place he sent out a text saying 'Assemble,' so we all went down to a club and started going crazy on the dance floor. The rest of the patrons were rather surprised to see the Black Widow and the Hulk having a dance off. It made Clark Gregg's day."
"I think we found the main diffence between me and Chris then. Tony's been trying to get me into a club for over a year now," steve said, with a good natured laugh. "But who's Clark Gregg sorry?"
"Oh. He plays Coulson."
At this everyone stopped suddenly. Tom nearly walked into the back of Iron Man. He, Clint, and Natasha turned to glare at him, with hardened eyes.
"Don't you dare talk about Coulson so casually. If you really 'play' Loki, you know what happened to him," Natasha spat at Tom.
"Yes I do. And it all worked out in the e- Oh my goodness," Tom cut him self off, eyes wide.
"What?!" Clint demanded.
"Uh. I... Uhh..." Tom stuttered, trying to think of a reasonable explanation, that didn't give away the secret he apparently shouldn't know. But all notion of spoilers fell out of his head when Natasha attacked him again.
"He asked you a question!" she said quietly, her knife against his throat.
"Uhm, well, as I understand it, the director wanted to engage in a little dramatic irony, and... Well Coulson isn't quite as dead as you believe," he explained, nearly hyperventilating as he eyed Natasha's knife. Eventually she drew back again.
Clint pulled Tom roughly to his feet, all trace of humour gone. "If you're lying to us..." he said, slamming Tom against a wall.
"No, I'm serious. Everybody complained when he died, so the writers brought him back. I think he's now on a bus with Agent May..?" Tom trailed off, unsure of himself under Natasha's scrutiny.
"The Bus hadn't been in S.H.I.E.L.D for months before you and Cap dismantled it," said Clint, turning back towards Natasha. "About the same time May stopped hanging out at the Triskelion."
She nodded once, and they set off towards the Quinjet at a much faster pace than before, leaving the others to follow after. They followed immediately, sensing it was best not to keep them waiting.
As the doors of the Quinjet locked, Tom's fear returned at the thought of being trapped in a small box, with six people who had recently mistaken him for their worst enemy. However, the guilt also returned when he saw Thor's shoulders sag, whilst he let out a long sigh. Overcome with pity, Tom decided to risk a conversation, and went to sit next to him.
"You know," Tom said with a timid smile. "Loki got the mind gem from Thanos, but he usually tortures people into co-operation. Loki might not have wanted to fight you. There certainly was a lot of debate about his eye colour during the Avengers."
"Thank you," said Thor. "But Loki tried to kill me long before that. It will do me no good to keep deluding myself about his hatred towards me. But enough of my sorry state of affairs; what of your realm? Am I to understand there is also another me?" he asked with a jovial grin.
"Yes. Chris Hemsworth. There seem to be a lot of Chris's working for Marvel," Tom mused.
"Indeed. And can this Chris also lift Mjulnir?" Thor asked, his curiosity growing.
"Well, we're just a movie franchise. We don't have an actual mythical hammer of the Gods," said Tom with a smile. "But he is very lovely. I'm sure he could if he tried," he added, not wanting to speak ill of his friend through ommision.
Thor's smile widened. "Many of my friends have tried, it has become quite the popular challenge. Perhaps if this Chris appears aswell we should let him have an attempt."
"That would certainly be an interesting spectacle." A small smirk appearing on Tom's lips as he pictured Chris succeeding, and Thor's shocked expression.
"We're here," interupted Tony, just as the doors opened.
He, Clint, and Natasha strode off immediately, presumably to start searching for Coulson. Thor took one last pained look at Tom and followed after them. Steve stayed at his side as they walked down the steps from the helipad to the entrance, but after a minute or so alternating between pacing and awkward hovering, he made his excuses and left to see how the others were getting on.
Which left Tom alone with a man capable of turning into a giant green rage monster, who was not exactly famed for his love of Tom's doppelganger.
A few minutes of awkward silence passed. A few times Dr Banner looked like he was going to say something, but it seemed like he was socially awkward to the point where conversation was not an option. In reality, he was debating whether or not to ask Tom for a bloodsample. Deciding it was too soon, considering he had been ready to unleash the Hulk on him only half an hour ago, he decided to start with a more socially acceptable topic.
"Would you like a drink?" Bruce asked, heading over to Tony's bar.
Tom considered. "Could I possibly have a cup of tea please?"
Bruce's eyes practically sparkled. Unbeknownst to Tom, Bruce was the only tea drinker in the tower, the rest of them requiring strong, black coffee to function. The one time Steve had offered to make him a drink Bruce had nearly accidently hulked out, when Steve added the milk before removing the tea bag.
"Yes," said Bruce, a slightly manic smile beginning to creep over his face. "Yes you can."