AN: Thank you so much everyone for reading and reviewing and favoriting! Ugh, you guys make me so happy seriously. I cannot thank you enough! I wish I could hug all of you. Glad you are liking it!

Here is the next chapter-we are getting close to the end. I hope it keeps you guessing! I hope you enjoy this chapter, and remember reviews are always appreciated! Love you guys!


Happy Coincidence


"Jarvis, run it again with the army halved."

Tony's eyes watched as the numbers flashed against the screen and the computer spit out a number of calculations. One by one, he watched as the various categories dwindled down to single digits—finally resting with bright red numbers screaming zero.

"Run it again but with—"

"Sir, I fear the results will be similar."

Looking back at the input selections on the program, Tony let out a frustrated sigh. He had all of SHIELD's data on the team's abilities, and he had adjusted the program accordingly. For the Asgardians, he had input the upper level of their abilities. For the Hulk, he had input indestructability and still…the program was giving odds that were grim.

"Run again with regeneration events."

"How many, sir?"

Brown eyes looked down at the file in his hand. The Asgardian that could bring back souls from death could not do so forever. Her abilities would only buy them time before she, too, met a similar fate.

"One for each of us." Tony decided quietly, "An optimistic estimate."

This time, the numbers raced against the screen at a much slower pace. Still, the army Loki spoke of won. Their chances of success were lying in the single digits—chances that were entirely luck based. For every simulation, their chances of survival were minimal. In each simulation, Tony was reminded that they were all very mortal.

"Is everything ok, Tony?"

Flashing his hand across the screen, the man hid the program behind a number of complicated blueprints before turning to the voice at the door. Mustering the best smile he could, the man locked eyes with the pretty strawberry blond. Her face was one marred with concern, and with a dismissive wave Tony tried to calm her calculating mind.

"I'm fine, Pep." He smiled, "Just working on some more armor."

As her eyes traced the drawings on the screen, Tony could feel the weight of guilt looming over him. She had no idea what they were about to face—no idea the grim odds they had. But if he had to tell her goodbye, if he had to tell her the truth, they would both suffer in their final days. And Tony didn't want to see the light leave her eyes.

"I worry for you." She whispered, "I don't have a good feeling this time."

"Well, don't." He reassured with a smile, "I've run the simulations, and there is no way we can lose."

The words tasted bitter against his tongue, and the smile that Pepper gave him after was even more painful. She walked over towards him, eyeing the complicated machinery on the screens, and shaking her head.

"I don't know how you do it, Tony." She sighed, "I hope your simulation is right."

"Have I ever been wrong?"

The look she returned spoke volumes.

"Go get something nice on." He urged, putting his hands on her shoulders, "I'm going to take you out. You know, before Manhattan is destroyed again."

Smiling into her kiss, Tony waved a small goodbye as she walked out of the lab and away from the screens. Behind the blueprints was a screaming truth—that everything he had just told her was a sick lie. Turning back and looking at the numbers again, Tony supposed he wasn't much better than the God of Lies himself—he wove untruths to himself and those he loved far too easily.

But as an image of the trickster entered his mind, so did another option. Pushing a number of papers off of his desk, Tony smiled when he found the messy file he was looking for. Behind the damaged manila folder were pages upon pages of stapled confidential information—pictures, interrogation transcripts, video clips—and within them was exactly what he needed.

"Jarvis, recalibrate with Loki's statistics added."

This time, just like all the others, the numbers dropped rapidly. Regeneration events and Asgardian power slowed the descent, but the success rates still fell. But when the program finished, when the virtual model of an alien army was destroyed, the success rate stopped slightly higher than last time…

Cursing to himself, Tony looked at the screen again for any inaccuracies. It seemed that-despite everything-Loki was critical to any chance of success. The God of Mischief, the same person who tried to kill them all, was needed to have a fighting chance. And it was that same person who vehemently insisted that he was not on their side, and would never be.

Looking over to the papers again, Tony's eyes scanned the various documents. There was nothing he didn't know—stories of deception and daddy issues. The pictures were nothing he hadn't seen before, and the medical charts were nothing he couldn't guess. But when his eyes scanned the many transcripts, one interrogation stood out from all the rest—their tortured words speaking volumes.

And when his eyes scanned over facts he knew SHIELD wanted kept secret, a small smile found its way to his face. Loki may have been an agent of chaos, but he was very human—and Tony knew exactly what chords he needed to play.


Swallowing hard, the woman looked down at the green stone in her hands. From the moment it was returned to her, she could hear the mocking voice and beckoning words become louder. The power it emitted this time was an angry one—displeased that it had not yet taken a host. She could feel the looming force over her, wearing her down, and she wanted to scream.

"I know not why you are trying to hard to fight me." It repeated angrily, "I offer you release from the pain of this world. No more suffering. No more sickness."

Grabbing the stone harder, Eir tried to send whatever defiance she could towards the stone. For a moment, the voices stopped…her will winning over its. But when her eyes glanced towards the dark scar that adorned her hand, she was reminded of how close she had come to losing herself. She could still feel the burning of her flesh—she could still remember the glistening blood and singed skin. She could still recall how she couldn't breath, and how badly her throat felt when her blood-curdling scream was allowed release. She had come so close to losing herself. Had Loki not been there…

"I see you are well."

Looking up from her hand, Eir blinked as two green eyes caught her attention. Leaning against her doorway was the man himself…looking very inconvenienced.

"Yes…I suppose." She admitted quietly, "Thank yo—"

"Twas not like I had a choice." Loki spat, his eyes rolling, "If these mortals were to have found you dead, I would have been blamed."

Lowering her eyes from his, the goddess simply nodded at his answer. It was a logical answer, considering how everyone distrusted him, but she couldn't help part of herself from wanting a different answer from him. When Bruce had said Loki brought her to the infirmary, some part of her was glad. Some stupid part of her though that her magic had actually worked.

But she should have known—she was never that lucky.

"And your mind?" she finally asked, breaking the awkward silence between them, "Do you feel any different?"

"Of course not." He decided, walking over to her mirror and looking at his reflection for a moment, "You simply gave me a headache and memories that were best left forgotten."

The woman watched as Loki's eyes narrowed at her from the mirror, his back still facing her.

"Perhaps you are not the greatest healer in Asgard after all."

Matching his challenging gaze, Eir stood up from her place on the bed. Pocketing the glowing stone in her jacket, she walked over towards the prince and crossed her arms—trying her very best to match his defiance. If there was one thing she hated, it was being told she wasn't good enough. That she wasn't a good enough doctor. That she wasn't a good enough Asgardian. That she wasn't a good enough…

"I can raise the dead, Loki." She hissed, interrupting her own volatile thoughts, "I can fix your pathetic mind."

As her answer, the man simply laughed at her. He had turned around now, reminding the healer that he was a head taller than her.

"Then why haven't you?" he asked with hint of amusement in his voice, "Your talents are slipping, dear."

Narrowing her eyes at him, Eir tightened her jaw and broke his intense glare.

"Why did you come here?" she asked angrily, "Was it simply to mock me? I am growing tired of being treated like your plaything."

This time, Loki's laugh had an element to it that she couldn't quite describe.

"Oh, how time has changed you." He whispered smoothly-his smirk positively sinful, "I remember a time when you wante—"

Not able to stop herself, Eir could feel her hand contact the man's face hard. With his face adorn with the bright red of her slap, Eir clenched her jaw tighter and Loki just blinked—obviously stunned.

"Time hasn't changed you one bit." She hissed, "You pathetic piece of—"

"Brother!" Thor bellowed, walking in from the hallway, "I have been looking for you!"

Taking a few steps back from the shocked Jotun, the healer sent Thor the best smile she could fake. On the God of Thunder's face were the obvious marks of curiosity, his blue eyes electric with wonder.

"I pray I wasn't interrupting something." Thor remarked, his voice filled with interest, "If so I…"

"Tis fine, Thor." Eir lied, narrowing her eyes at the other prince, "I was just leaving."

Loki groaned as the woman gave Thor a slight bow before walking out of the room—sending one more venomous look in his direction. Now alone with Thor, the younger prince let out a sigh filled with frustration—the sting of regret and the sting of the slap burning brightly in the quiet room.

"What did you need from her, brother?" Thor asked curiously, breaking the tension between them, "Is all well?"

And for some reason, Loki didn't feel like lying to Thor.

"I wanted to make sure she was alright." Loki admitted quietly, "I was worried."

There was a pause, and Loki prayed to any being that would listen that his brother didn't question his worry for the healing goddess.

"Well, is she?" Thor asked innocently, "For I was worried, too."

Avoiding Thor's eyes, Loki looked towards the floor and shook his head.

"No."


Midgard was a decidedly strange realm, and since coming to it Eir hadn't been certain of much. Compared to Asgardians, mortals were far more reckless—far cruder. Perhaps it was their fleeting life that made them live it to the fullest? Or perhaps it was simply a reckless abandon uncommon amongst Asgardians. But as she looked around the smoky establishment she now found herself in, she was certain of one thing.

She hated it.

The people around her were a rambunctious group, loud and obnoxious in the worst sense. They reminded her far too much of Frandal with one to many drinks in him, and their manner of dress was less than appropriate. The mortals danced to pounding music and smashed glasses of alcohol across the room in drunken stupors. It was nothing like the polite festivals of Asgard—or rather, she had never stayed long enough to see the wild aftermath.

"Hey, I didn't expect to see you here!"

Turning around in one of the hard bar stools, the goddess came face to face with one of the mortals Thor kept close. Her dark glasses glittered in the lights, and a bright smile came across her face as she made eye contact with the bartender.

"Ah yes, Lady Darcy." Eir smiled weakly, "Trying to clear my mind, you see. Thor said he and Erik had a grand time in a place like this. And you?"

The goddess watched as a glass slid across the wood towards the young Midgardian. Darcy took a sip of her drink and cast her eyes across the bar scene before looking back towards the Asgardian.

"Just getting a jumpstart on this 'End of the World' thing." Darcy explained with a smirk, "I always wondered what I would do if the world was ending, you know."

The brunette took a large drink from her glass.

"I kind of imagined there would be a lot of drinking and sex." She mused, holding up her glass for Eir to see, "I guess I'm half-way there!"

Eir cringed as her eyes caught sight of a particularly affectionate couple in the corner of the bar.

"Charming."

"What about you?" Darcy asked with interest, "Any pre-apocalyptic plans?"

Looking down at the drink in her hand, Eir swirled the liquid in the glass and considered this. She had heard stories of people who came close—whose soul had been inches away from Death. They spoke of beautiful things, of glorious lights and of peacefulness not experience in some time. Others spoke of regrets and lost chances—and made vows to forgive and love harder. She could remember people speaking of letting those they loved down.

"I have never thought about it." She admitted quietly, "We live a very long time, Lady Darcy. I always thought myself too young to think about...you know."

"Fair enough." Darcy decided, grabbing another drink from the bartender, "Why are you here, anyway?"

Eir blinked a few times.

"Just clearing my min—"

"No, I mean here. On Earth." Darcy corrected, "You aren't exactly a warrior."

And yet she was expected to wade into a war. The doctor had been to the aftermaths of many battles, walked through blood-drenched fields and seen things that would haunt these mortals' dreams. But Darcy was right—she was no warrior—and these Avengers expected her to help as if she was one.

"I was tasked to treat Loki's mind." Eir explained, "Though I have, admittedly, been less than successful."

Darcy just sent a smile towards the Asgardian.

"So you're the doctor." She grinned, "Is it really like Gray's Anatomy?"

"What?"

"Never mind." The college student laughed, "Does that mean you've had to give Thor and Loki physicals? Because I would really like to hear about that."

Eir prayed that the dim lighting of the room helped to hide the fire of a blush across her face.

"They are my friends, Darcy." She stuttered, "I could never."

"Lost opportunities." The girl smirked, "So why isn't your treatment working? They don't make antipsychotics for aliens?"

The goddess sighed as Loki's words echoed through her head. Her treatment wasn't working because she wasn't good enough. Despite all her talents, he had not changed at all. No amount of magic could salvage his mind from whatever dark place it was trapped. No amount of magic could bring him back.

"I have recalibrated chemicals and adjusted minute neurological slights." Eir explained sadly, "I have sought out pathogens and tried my hardest to numb his pain. Still, he looks at me with contempt."

To the Asgardian's surprise, Darcy just shook her head and laughed.

"Well, that's your problem." The girl remarked, casting her eyes across the bar, "You're treating him like a patient when you just said he was your friend."

Seemingly noticing her confusion, Eir was grateful when the mortal decided to further explain herself.

"Jane used to get a little crazy sometimes." Darcy elaborated, "Long hours doing math in a trailer apparently has its drawbacks."

The girl took another drink.

"But when I tried to help her as an assistant, she didn't listen." She explained, "It took a movie, salacious gossip, and Ben and Jerry's to make her feel better. She only listened when I was her friend."

Rubbing her head, Eir highly doubted that any about of talking was going to make Loki feel better. They were days away from war, and she did not have time to recruit the help of the Ben and Jerry's the woman spoke of. Loki's mind was a mess—and he wasn't going to be happy again until he felt adequate again. Unfortunately for all of them, that meant gaining power.

"Ah yes, Lady Darcy." Eir sighed, "Tis all everyone needs to see—me acting cordial with him. I am already untrusted."

"So what!?" Darcy laughed heartily, "I'm considering getting cordial with him- 'End of the World' and all. I have always had a thing for the bad ones."

Though she had not realized it, the goddess gasped as she saw the cracking of the glass in her hand.

"Excuse me?"

"It's called a joke." The girl smirked, eyeing her knowingly, "Nice reaction, by the way."

Putting the glass down quickly, Eir decided to ignore the mortal's comment. Still, a victorious grin was plastered across her young face.

"Have you every asked him why he's upset?" she finally asked, apparently feeling the tension between them, "Maybe he just needs to vent."

The goddess blinked again.

"Vent?"

"Maybe he just needs to talk about it." Darcy corrected, "Sorry, Earth slang."

Again, the healer almost wanted to laugh at the mortal's ludicrous suggestion that Loki would want to tell her anything. At one time it would have been a feasible plan of action, but the girl had no idea the change he had gone through. The girl had no idea how much he hated her.

"He is upset because of his heritage." Eir explained, taking a large drink, "He still feels the sting of deception. He feels as though no one loves him…or can with the knowledge of his true birthplace."

"So?" Darcy asked with a shrug, "Is it true?"

Again, another ridiculous question.

"Of course not!"

"Have you told him that?"

Eir narrowed her eyes at the mortal, knowing full well that the question was a loaded one.

"Thor has." Eir answered, "The Queen has."

"Have you?"

The silence that followed was as good as any answer. For some reason, the realization that the Goddess refused to tell him something so simple made her chest hurt. He was a bad person—he had done terrible things to Midgard and Jotunheim and her all in the quest for power—but even so, she didn't hate him.

And that troubled her greatly.

"I fear I must go, Lady Darcy." Eir decided quickly, obviously uncomfortable with the new direction the conversation was heading, "Twas a happy coincidence running into you!"

And as the Goddess rushed out of the crowded bar, the college student just smiled to herself. Putting the glass up to her lips, Darcy took another long drink and laughed to herself. It was almost too easy…

Happy coincidence, indeed.


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