Oh my word. I broke 100 reviews and it was only the sixth chapter?! I really think this is a first for me and I'm so so happy and thankful and SURPRISED, seriously. Thank you all so much who took the time to read and review my story! You guys keep me going, you really do. I'm so honored that you do so.

Also, I finally got around to watching my first ever Mission: Impossible movie (the 2011 one) and I have to say, I love Jeremy Renner in that movie. So much sass. So boss.

Not going to lie, I always fear I update too often. What if I catch up with my pre-written too quickly and have nothing to offer?!

Stay in tune for next chapter, where we hear more of Thor's side of the story he failed to mention earlier…

"Sorry I'm late," Natasha said. She dropped her bag next to the chair and fell into hit, heaving a sigh. She had run all way from the SHIELD headquarters to the delicatessen where she agreed to eat lunch with Clint with only a minute to spare. "It took longer than I thought."

Clint looked up curiously from his cup of coffee. "What did?"

"My little chat with Loki, if you can call it that," she said. "Did you order yet?"

"Wait—you were talking to Loki?" said Clint.

"Lunch?" said Natasha.

Clint hesitated. "I haven't. I was waiting for you."

"Sorry," she said again. "Here, let's order now. I don't want you to stay hungry."

"I'm fine," said Clint, but he relented. They each ordered a pastrami Panini, the bread crisp and the cheese slick and melting. Just before she could sink her teeth into it, he spoke up again. "What were you talking to Loki about?"

She lowered the sandwich, a little disgruntled. Her stomach growled a protest. "Fury wants me to get some information out of him," she said. "It's going swimmingly."

"Really?"

"Peachy."

"He doesn't even talk."

"Exactly why it's so peachy."

Clint frowned before taking a bite out of his lunch. Natasha took this as a sign that lunch has commenced and therefore did not hesitate in wolfing down her sandwich.

"So," he said slowly, wiping his mouth with the brown napkin. "What did you get out of him?"

Natasha swallowed down her mouthful, her lips shiny with oil. "Fury wanted to know if there was a chance the Chitauri would come back for him here. Judging by his reaction, he obviously doesn't want that to happen. Whether or not it will is still a maybe."

"A maybe?" said Clint, his face darkening. "We shouldn't have to face those bastards another time."

"I don't want to either," said Natasha. "But things still aren't certain. Anyway, he's right now too weak to fight anything off even if they did come."

"So what's SHIELD going to do if they come around?" said Clint. "Fight them off or issue a compromise?"

Without warning, the memory of Loki's stricken face passed through Natasha's mind. She tried to shove it aside, the pastrami suddenly unsettling in her stomach.

"Thor wouldn't be too happy about the latter," Natasha said.

"Right," Clint said with a grunt. "Well, can't say that it isn't on the horizon."

"Right," said Natasha. She took another bite.

Clint gave her a guarded glance. "He hasn't done anything to you, has he? Loki?"

"I've handled him before, I can do it again," said Natasha.

"Last time, he compromised you," said Clint.

"Well, you were too. I'm as capable as anyone can be," said Natasha.

"I didn't mean it that way," said Clint. "I just—if there was any way to keep you from dealing with him again, I'd love it. He's no good for anyone. I don't want him—you know—hurting you."

"I can handle a punch," said Natasha.

"We both know he's not that kind of fighter," said Clint.

Natasha took the moment to take a sip of her chilled water.

"I've got a weak point of his I can hang over his head anyway," she said.

"What? What do you mean?" said Clint.

"I say a few things, I scare the daylights out of him, I get the upper hand," said Natasha. "Slowly, intimately, in every way he fears."

"Scare tactics again, huh?" said Clint.

"Again?" Natasha furrowed her eyebrows. "What do you mean by that?"

Clint shrugged. "You told me you used to use that as a tactic back in your—your assassin days. You'd make people afraid without them even realizing you were doing it on purpose."

"Oh." She had forgotten that tidbit. How many other ways did she know how to kill a person, anyway? "Well, it's more effective than torture or whatever it was that the Chitauri did to him."

Maybe that could make her ledger look just a little less scarlet. She could hope, at least.

For a moment she saw those fearful eyes again—this time they belonged to someone else, someone Natasha couldn't even remember. Maybe they were nobody's, and were just a manifestation of what she knew. Eyes of the fearful whose names she never bothered to know before she ended them.

"What makes you afraid the most?" she said abruptly.

Clint nearly choked on his coffee. "Sorry?"

"When were you most afraid?" she said.

Clint gave a weak chuckle. "Isn't this a little too philosophical for a sandwich lunch? This morning I had to seriously stop and ask myself how many Ns are in the word 'banana.' It's not three, in case you were curious."

"I'm just wondering," said Natasha.

Clint bit the inside of his cheek. "I like to think I'm usually not afraid," said Clint.

"I know," she said.

He raised his eyes to her. They both seemed to understand that she already knew the answer. But something in Natasha wanted to hear it from his own mouth, to realize the gravity of it—the gravity of fear.

"When I first got out of Loki's…mind control, was afraid I killed you," he said. "The last thing I remembered up until that point was fighting you, and then all of a sudden I was back being myself again. I thought I might have killed you and I—I hated myself. For a moment I had lost my—I killed—I lost you."

Clint looked down, slightly embarrassed. Natasha felt her heart clench but she kept her voice efficiently even.

"You saw me a split second afterward," she said.

"I know," said Clint. "But the thing about fear is that it's sort of timeless. It doesn't matter if it lasted a second or a lifetime, it's still just as present and just as powerful."

Natasha nodded mutely. It unnerved her—just slightly—that she indirectly struck fear in Clint as well as Loki and countless others.

"Don't beat yourself over it, Nat," said Clint. "It was your job."

"A job," she said. It didn't feel right, discrediting the fact that she had done it regardless, but she accepted it blindly.

"How do you feel about this, anyway?" said Clint.

"About what?" said Natasha.

"This whole…thing," said Clint. "The thing with Loki. Taking him in and everything."

Natasha carefully mulled it over while sneaking in one last bite of her sandwich. "I'm impressed with how well you're taking it."

"Come on, Nat, I want to know how you feel about it," he said.

She exhaled deeply. "It's the last thing I ever expected to do," she said. "And I would rather be doing something else."

"Nice euphemisms," he said. He leaned back in his chair, sighing. "I thought Fury would be against this, but he's apparently all for it. Or at least, not totally denying it."

"And who are we to question?" she said.

"How do we know this isn't one big joke?" said Clint. "What if he's pretending to be all mute and hurt only to screw us over later?"

"I don't think so," Natasha said.

Clint raised his eyebrows. "How are you so dead sure about it?"

She couldn't stop seeing Loki's terror in her head. "For a supposed god of lies, he's awful at hiding things."

"Or maybe he's pulling reverse psychology on you," said Clint.

"Funny, because I do the same to him," she said. "What do you feel?"

Clint bit the corner of his lip.

"I don't think you'd want to hear my answer," he said.

"Why would you think that?"

"Because part of me doesn't want you to hear."

"What are you hiding from me?"

Clint glanced up at Natasha. "My ugly side. The part of me that's a bad person."

He bit his lip before finishing the rest of his sandwich, letting his answer fade. Natasha stared down at her half-eaten lunch. As silly as it sounded, this was why she hated thinking when she ate. Sometimes her thoughts went to places that made her stomach twinge.

"I haven't used it often," said Natasha.

"What?" said Clint.

"Scare tactics," said Natasha. "I usually just did my dance. I didn't make someone legitimately scared to get what I wanted often at all. Only when I really needed to."

"It's okay, Nat," said Clint. "I'm serious. You did what you had to do. What they forced you to do. That wasn't your fault."

"Not my fault," she echoed. Not her fault when she pointed a gun to one of her fellow girls in the Red Room—an eight year old child—to frighten her as punishment for stealing a piece of candy from the mistress. No one had ordered Natasha to do it. No one put the gun in her hand. She seized the moment to feel powerful when she looked into that tearstained face and heard those pleas for understanding. Oh, how it made her powerful.

This feeling (it isn't guilt) was an ugly, ugly thing.

"So, here we are," said Tony, pushing the doors open. "Home sweet home. Welcome to Stark Tower. Not that you haven't been here before, considering you used it as your tower of evil and doom and then smashed your face into it."

Loki glared at Tony but as usual, did not retort. Bruce wheeled Loki into the makeshift medical room. Loki was on a wheelchair, although even that was almost too much for him. His back was still ripped and the spine still weak so that he could barely sit up properly, not that he would let anyone figure this out as he sat up ramrod straight. Bruce couldn't help but shake his head at this. He had his share of proud patients, but Loki was almost self-destructive in his.

Tony patted his hand on the bed in the middle of the room. "This is where we'll be running our tests. You know, see if we can tap into that source of wibbly wobbly in you."

Loki frowned.

"You know, there's something in you that's not supposed to be in you. Magic," said Tony. "Not your own magic, but something that's sucking it up. You wouldn't happen to kn—hey, don't touch that!"

Loki had lost interest in Tony's sporadic spiel and was admiring some of the tools used for Iron Man's armor repair that Tony had accidentally left behind. Tony strode over and took it from Loki's hands immediately.

"No. Bad Loki," said Tony. Loki looked positively murderous at the condescension, which made Tony smirk widely. "My place. My rules. We're doing you one hell of a favor. Well, technically, we're doing Thor a favor, but that kind of includes you too. Is Thor coming around any time soon, Bruce?"

"He's with Fury right now," said Bruce, wheeling Loki away from the table of tools. "He'll be over a little later."

"Well, I'll give him a rundown of the rules once he comes back," said Tony, waving around the screwdriver. "We'll start with you." He spun around and pointed the screwdriver at Loki. "You. You're not allowed to leave this room ever. Not without supervision. Hell, you're not leaving the bed. We can't have you trying to crawl away with one working hand like that one time."

If Bruce didn't know any better, he would have thought he saw Loki's face flush with embarrassment. Several days ago, Loki had tried to run off from SHIELD's medical center, but considering he had a broken arm and both his legs couldn't carry his weight, he was left dragging himself down the hallway like an earthworm. Not exactly an ideal situation to find the ex-villain, but it was the truth nonetheless.

"Hands off of Pepper," said Tony. "Don't talk to her, don't think about her, don't even look at her, even though she's one hell of woman. If you so much as eat peppers, I'll consider that as breaking the rule."

Loki shot Bruce a perplexed look.

"Pepper is Tony's girlfriend," said Bruce. "That's her nickname."

"If you do anything suspicious, I'm going to know. Seriously," said Tony. "So don't even try. JARVIS?"

"Yes, sir?"

Loki jumped a little in his wheelchair at the sound of the disembodied voice. Tony grinned at Loki's brief moment of panic before Loki pulled on a face of pure and foreboding irritation.

"Make sure Reindeer Games here doesn't leave this room. Ever. Not without either me or Bruce. And maybe Thor, so long as Bruce or I am around as well. Can't trust that man with his little brother," said Tony. "And make sure he doesn't touch my stuff."

"Duly noted, sir."

"And that's JARVIS," Bruce said to Loki. "He's Tony's computer. Just think of him as a personal assistant and butler that isn't actually alive."

Whether or not Loki understood that was beyond Bruce. He couldn't help but notice how on edge Loki was when Bruce approached him, how his long fingers wrapped tightly around the armrests of his wheelchair and how taut his face became. Bruce backed off slightly, perplexedly trying to remember if he ever did or said anything to offend Loki more than the others.

Somewhere in him, the other guy must have chuckled.

"How about we get you on the bed?" said Bruce.

Loki shook his head.

"You just want to…sit for a while?"

Loki gritted his teeth and tried to wheel the chair with only one hand.

"Whoa, that's just going to make you spin in circles," Bruce said, gently placing a foot against the wheel to keep it from moving. "Just tell me where you want to go and I'll take you."

"Let the guy do what he wants," said Tony, fixing one of the machines he brought in to test Loki with. "Can't learn without failure, right?"

"I think you just want him to make a fool out of himself," Bruce said.

"Smart," said Tony. He approached Loki, who glowered at him. He bent down a little to be eye level, like a preschool teacher reprimanding the class clown. "You behave and Uncle Tony will get you better really fast so he can kick your ass out even faster. You step out of line, we're throwing said ass into a gutter."

Loki reached out to Tony's collar, and for a moment Bruce thought Loki was going to grab the front of Tony's shirt and bash him against the bed. However, instead of violently acting out, Loki's fingers brushed Tony's chest. His eyes widened slightly and he bit the tip of his tongue as he traced a perfect circle on Tony's chest.

Tony was just as bewildered as Bruce was.

"Er, Loki?" said Bruce.

Loki immediately pressed his hand flat against Tony's chest. Tony backed off immediately, his face the look of absolute befuddlement. Loki reached out again, more desperately, pointing to Tony's shirt.

"Bruce? What does he want?" said Tony, eyeing Loki like he was a misbehaving Rottweiler. "Bruce, make him stop."

"Is something the matter?" said Bruce.

Loki reached out further, nearly falling out of the wheelchair. Bruce caught him immediately, but Loki shrugged off his hand quickly. Against his wishes, Tony took a half step closer to Loki, barely close enough that Loki's fingers could graze his chest.

"Yeah, you're checking out my arc reactor?" said Tony as Loki pressed his fingers against the metal circle. "How'd you know? Is it glowing through my shirt?"

"Maybe he can sense the energy coming from it," said Bruce.

Loki was now trying to tug Tony's shirt open. Tony caught Loki's hand immediately and wrenched it away.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not so fast, Reindeer Games," said Tony. "How am I supposed to explain that to Thor? To Pepper?"

"I think he just wanted to see it, Tony," said Bruce.

"No way am I showing it to him. He'll use the information against me," said Tony.

Loki shook his head before turning to his own loose shirt. He undid the first several buttons, revealing his pale chest.

"I'm so confused right now," said Tony.

Before Bruce could say something sardonic, Loki pulled his shirt slightly open. Pressing his fingers against his skin, he bit down on his bottom lip and closed his eyes.

To Bruce's shock, jagged blue lines etched themselves into Loki's chest in a gruesome, deep X, as if someone sewed his skin with neon light. It looked ugly, deadly, even with its unusual blue sheen, stretching across Loki's heart. The lines faded to dark red scars where blood had once flooded.

"Holy shit," said Tony. "What the hell is that?"

Bruce wordlessly pulled a chair next to Loki. Loki's fingers tightened suddenly on his shirt and he pulled it close again.

"I'm not going to hurt you," said Bruce. "I just—can I look at it? Please?"

"How did you miss that the first time?" Tony said.

"It wasn't there before," said Bruce. He held up his hands to show Loki he was unarmed. "I'm not going to do anything. I'm just going to look at it. Please?"

"Come on, Reindeer Games," said Tony. "If there's any one of us you can trust, it's Bruce."

Bruce couldn't help but disagree on that. At least, the other guy was the last person anyone can trust anyway. Nonetheless, Loki resignedly pulled his shirt open again, the blue wound spreading across his chest again.

"Can you…control when it shows up?" said Bruce.

Loki bit his lip, but indicated no answer.

"Is this some creepy alien wound?" said Tony. "Just nod or shake your head."

Loki did neither. He looked like he was more than ready to close his shirt again, regretting showing either of them. Bruce realized with a jolt that it wasn't speaking that Loki was so afraid to do; Loki was scarred from communication.

"Can I touch it?" said Bruce.

Bad question. Loki immediately backed away from Bruce, drawing his shirt back on immediately. Suddenly he had a look of anger on his face, as if Bruce had insulted him.

"I won't hurt you," said Bruce.

"It looks like the Tesseract," said Tony. "The blue glow. It reminds me of it. I'm going to see if I can run gamma ray tests on him."

"You think that Tony has the same thing you have?" Bruce said to Loki.

Tony stopped in his tracks, perplexed. Loki's eyes darted feverishly toward Tony before he pursed his lips.

"I definitely do not have that going on," said Tony. "This arc reactor isn't sucking my life out. Well, not in that way, anyway. Is that what yours is doing? Feeding off of you?"

Loki let his hands fall to his lap, his face troubled. The light began to pulse and he swallowed hard. It reminded Bruce of Loki's staff years ago. Before Loki could stop him, Bruce placed two fingers against the lines.

The effect was almost instantaneous. A rush of painful, overwhelming sound tore at his eardrums, speaking in tongues that no human could ever work. An icy sensation wrestled his nerves, tying them into a knot that muddled his senses—he heard with his tongue, tasted with his eyes, felt with his mind. He didn't know top from bottom, left from right, he didn't even know if he had a body.

You are a traitor and a failure why do you bother to draw breath

He couldn't recognize the voice, but there was something so familiar and daunting about it that Bruce was almost convinced he heard it a long time ago in a childhood nightmare.

I will find you and destroy you you cannot run from me you will suffer more than you have ever known

He tried to pull away, but there was nothing to pull away from. There was nothing to move—everything was a ball of existence, a pure form of energy with no form.

Your world will fall your universe will fall everything that you ever held dear will be reduced to nothing

MonstermonstermonsterMonster MONSTER—

Bruce jerked back, nearly crashing into Tony. He gasped for breath, his glasses knocked off his face and his hairline dotted with sweat. Tony barely caught Bruce before he fell to the ground, shouting in complete bewilderment.

"Okay—what the hell was that?" said Tony.

Bruce wriggled out of Tony's grip, hurrying to Loki's side. Loki was shuddering uncontrollably, his face equally pale and perspiring. His eyes were half-closed as if he was in a trance and he was barely breathing. He had a deathlike grip on the armrests of his wheelchair, like ice curled around the tree branches. Bruce put a hand on Loki's forehead—underneath the sweat Loki was very cold.

"Shit, I think I did something to him," Bruce said. He could still feet his heart beat wildly in his own chest.

"You nearly did something to me, for crying out loud," said Tony. "You were rooted into Loki like some parasite and then all of a sudden you go rigid and I thought someone was going to die under my roof."

"I was still here?" Bruce said, checking for Loki's pulse. It was rapid, frighteningly so. Cursing loudly in his mind, he pulled Loki off of the wheelchair. Someone the sudden movement must have jerked him back to consciousness because Loki began flailing immediately, his hands flying to Bruce's throat.

"Tony, a little help here!" Bruce said before Loki's fingers closed around his neck.

Immediately, Tony dragged Loki away from Bruce, forcing him onto the hospital bed. Loki backed up against the wall at the head of the bed as if he was cornered by beasts. Even through his shirt they could see the faint glow of his wound.

"Are you okay?" said Bruce. "Are you hurt?"

Loki could only stare at Bruce with wide eyes, his mouth in a thin line of rage. Bruce glanced over Loki swiftly to make sure none of his wounds reopened. It unnerved him slightly that even when Loki barely had the energy to hold himself upright, his grip on Bruce's throat was far from weak. How much did it take to kill a god?

"I didn't mean to," said Bruce. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to see what it would do. If I could figure out how to help."

Loki's eyes sharpened and he clearly looked as if he wanted to say he needn't anyone's help.

"Does it hurt all the time?" said Bruce. "Do you—do you hear those voices all the time?"

Loki faltered and he slowly raised his head higher.

"Did they…did the Chitauri cut you open to put something in you?" said Bruce.

"Why didn't it show up on the X-rays?" said Tony.

"Maybe the X-ray can't pick it up because it's completely and literally out of this world," said Bruce. "Maybe it's pure magic."

"And they cut him open to put it in him?" said Tony, grimacing.

"Loki—what did they put in you?" said Bruce. "Is it anything like the Tesseract?"

Loki still hadn't stopped shaking. He raised thin hands and pressed it against his chest, the blue feebly blinking between his fingers.

"We won't hurt you for telling us," said Tony. "No one's going to find out and hurt you. Nothing private leaves Stark Tower."

Loki let out a soft breath. He moved his head by just a millimeter to affirm.

"But Thor took the Tesseract back to Asgard, didn't he?" said Tony. "And the scepter…"

Loki shuddered and Bruce figured his health demanded immediate attention. He checked Loki's blood pressure and wounds to make sure he hadn't hurt himself along the way. His blood pressure was very low and he looked faint.

"Rest, Loki," said Bruce. "That's the best way to get you to heal is to sleep. You haven't gotten any since you came to us."

Loki turned away from Bruce, his hand still upon his chest. The glowing slowly faded into nothingness.

"You'll be safe here," said Tony. "JARVIS will keep an eye on you for both our sake and yours, okay? So…don't worry about it. You'll be fine."

Loki slowly sank down until he lied upon the bed. He looked more scared than tired; Bruce felt immensely guilty.

"We'll keep an eye out for you," said Bruce. "And Thor will see you after you rest, all right?"

The fact that Loki didn't frown at the mention of Thor signified to Bruce that he was very unwell. He turned off the lights and gestured Tony to follow him out of the room. Tony trotted out, casting another uneasy glance at Loki before shutting the door behind the both of them. The moment the door was secured shut, Tony turned toward Bruce.

"Okay, what exactly just happened and should I be extremely concerned?" said Tony.

"It felt like I was in another dimension when I touched it," said Bruce, keeping his voice low. "I had no body, only a mind, but I could still feel everything. Like my mind rocket ship shot out into space and it had to get rid of its tanks—my body—along the way."

"You looked like you were possessed," said Tony.

"How did Loki look?" said Bruce.

"No more attractive," said Tony. "He looked pretty tortured too." He muttered a curse. "Whatever those Chitauri did to him…God, I don't even want to know. I thought the other guy beat him up pretty good that one time, too."

"The other guy feels pretty indignant, honestly," said Bruce with a dry smile. "I think he's protective over Loki or something. Like nothing else is allowed to kick his ass except him."

Tony snorted before sobering up. "What else happened? Did it give any clue as to what it was?"

"I heard disembodied voices," said Bruce. He rubbed the side of his head, his ears ringing; even now he could almost hear it again, as if the voice was right behind his ear. "They were saying…things I didn't personally understand. Someone was threatening to hurt—I don't think they were talking to me, but I think they were talking to Loki. Threatening to destroy everything."

"Was that Loki's subconscious that you tapped into?" said Tony.

"It definitely wasn't Loki speaking, but it was surely in his mind," said Bruce. "And they kept calling him a monster. Over and over again."

He felt a strange emotion stir in him at the thought. He wondered if Loki had to hear that every living second: someone cursing him as a monster. In any other situation apart from his own, the word 'monster' would have been theatrical—melodramatic, even. But to hear someone call another person it with all the spite and venom laced in their voice as then struck too close to home for Bruce.

"You okay there?" said Tony. "You actually look not your best."

"Just a little woozy," said Bruce, rubbing his aching head. It was unusually harder to draw breath. "Just a little…confused, is all. And I guess shaken." He shook his head. "I can't imagine why the Chitauri would want to sew it inside of Loki, whatever it really is."

Tony made a face at the thought of it. "Can't believe he thought my arc reactor was the same thing."

"Poison nonetheless," said Bruce.

"Different flavor of poison," said Tony. "Should we tell Fury about this? Or better yet, Thor?"

"Thor might actually understand it if we tell him," said Bruce. "Any idea if we can use technology to put a cap on it?"

"I'll run a test on him after he gets his beauty sleep," said Tony. "Gamma rays first. I don't want to think they stuffed him with the Tesseract but that's a good place to start. You go and get yourself an Advil or something, okay? You look awful."

"Right, right," said Bruce, waving a tired hand. The amount of concern anyone showed him, much less Tony Stark, was still something that took time to get used to. "Keep an eye on Loki too, okay? He might not have his magic, but there's really no telling what'll happen."

"Right on it," said Tony. "Hey, JARVIS?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Have the video of the room Loki's in on the screens for Bruce and me all the time, okay?"

"Right away, sir."

On cue, the television screens that lined the hallways flickered to life, revealing a screenshot of Loki's room. Tony frowned at the sight of it.

"What's he doing?" said Tony.

Bruce furrowed his eyebrows. Loki was on the bed still, but he was curled under the sheets, his arms over his head as if protecting himself. Even from the fuzzy quality of the video Bruce could tell he was trembling, his shining eyes still open in the dark.

"Maybe it'll take him a while to go back to sleep," said Tony. "Whatever that was must have given him a scare for a bit."

Loki stayed like this for the remainder of the night.

"Your words are worthless, Frost Giant."

"Everything you say, every word you utter, every sound you make, is a curse on all ears."

"Your thoughts are meaningless."

"Your voice is only that of lies."

"There is nothing true about you, nothing kind, nothing valuable."

"You waste our time with your words and screams."

"You are not worth knowing, you are not worth remembering, your thoughts are not worth understanding."

"Don't waste your breath."

"Don't waste ours."

"All nine realms would have been better off if the All-father bashed your head against stones when you were a babe."

"Insignificant. Your words are empty of truth and value. Who would listen to the wicked imposter of a prince?"

That day, Loki remembered, was a day he tore out his own tongue.