A/N: Squeezy-hugs to you all, dear readers!
Loki paused in front of the deli door, head bowed, a worn look to his stance. "You'd have me do this," he said over his shoulder to Tony. It wasn't a question, or even an expression of disgust or repulsion. It was just a touchpoint, a confirmation.
"Yeah," Tony said into his ear, the word barely audible over the noise of the city. "It's okay." He gave Loki's pony tail a playful tug. "Trust me."
Loki sneered in response before reaching for the handle, and Tony watched as he straightened to his full height. He squared his shoulders, threw his head back, and Tony was reminded of the windswept, elegant bastard-god who'd appeared in his kitchen all those months ago. Loki opened the door, and he didn't look tired or unsure anymore—he was young and strong, and he strode inside undaunted, a king in jeans and sneakers come to address his lowly subjects.
A smile crossed Tony's face; "That's my boy," he thought admiringly. "He may have lost his kingdom, but, damn, royalty's in his blood." He followed Loki as the god sauntered to the table where the two agents were seated.
Clint and Natasha watched him approach, Natasha with a glint of humor in her eyes, but Clint looked taut, poised for confrontation. There was no mistaking the steel in his eyes, and a crackling silence fell around them. Maybe the jaded New Yorkers sensed something in the air, or maybe they just knew what the moments before a street fight looked like, but people scooted away, casting covert glances at the table, waiting for a sign telling them it was time to take cover.
"Good morning," Loki said in a smooth, vaguely mocking tone. "I understand you seek assistance." He tipped his head at Clint. "What need have you of me?"
Clint's jaw locked up and a vein in his forehead jumped, but Natasha coolly looked Loki up and down, feigning absolute normalcy. It wasn't that she was afraid; Tony had sworn Loki wouldn't use magic against them, and that he would take full responsibility for keeping the trickster in line. It was just that she, more than anyone, knew what Clint had suffered at Loki's hands, and there was a tiny bit of doubt in the back of her mind that he'd be able to keep control over his rage while sitting across the table from his former tormentor. Still, she had faith, and an exit plan, and she flashed Loki a wicked grin. "Wow. That's a different look for you, isn't it? Did Tony pick out the outfit?"
"Come on, Tash," Tony said firmly. "Nobody wants trouble. Let's get this over with."
"Just trying to break the ice. But, yes. Gentlemen, why don't you sit down? Plenty of room at the table."
For a moment, it seemed everyone was frozen in place, but then Loki fluidly slid into a chair and Tony did the same. Still, no one spoke—Clint wouldn't take his eyes off his coffee cup, Loki crossed his legs and folded his hands, apparently perfectly happy to wait everyone else out, and Tony studied the ceiling, unable to come up with an opening line that wouldn't piss somebody off—and finally, Natasha cut through the silence. "Okay, well, I hate to interrupt the gabfest, but I want a refill. Anybody need anything while I'm up? ...No? Okay. I'll just be a minute." She stood, and then paused to add, "Don't stop talking on my account, I'll pick up the gist when I get back." The men gave her a baleful look, and Natasha rolled her eyes as she went to the counter for more coffee.
She kept an eye on the three even as she pressed the button on the pump pot and refilled her cup. When she returned, they still weren't speaking. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table with her cup clasped in her hands and she blew a cooling breath across the steaming beverage. Clint sat close beside her and she could feel the tension reverberating through his body. She was beginning to fear he would snap like an overwound guitar string if someone didn't give, so she said, "Clint's been having visions," as casually as if announcing that the PTA bake sale had been a big success.
Loki frowned interestedly. "What sort of visions?"
"He—"
"I can speak for myself," Clint growled. He trained a laser glare on Loki. "I'm seeing—and feeling—weird shit. Voices, images, like memories, but none of this crap ever happened to me. I don't think it could have ever happened to anyone... human." He looked back down at his coffee cup, rolling it between his palms. Then he jerked his gaze back to Loki. "It's like someone's pushing these, yeah, visions into my brain, and I can't ignore them, I can't turn them off. And, they're getting worse." He was silent for a moment, his breath coming fast. "You fucked with my mind before, asshole. What are you doing to it now?"
Loki thoughtfully regarded Clint for a long moment before speaking. "Hmm. You think I'm causing these illusions to appear in your head. I suppose that's a logical conclusion, but you're wrong. Even if I had a purpose for your somewhat limited skills and talents, which I no longer do, it's impossible. I'd need the power of the Tesseract to accomplish such a thing."
Tony smiled broadly. "Well, okay, then! Hey, Tash, Hawk, great seeing you, sorry we couldn't help. Hate to run, but Loki and I have a lot to do, cribs to buy, nurseries to paint, you know how it is with a kid on the way. Later!" Tony made to stand up, but Natasha put a firm hand on his arm.
"Down, boy. We're not done."
Clint's expression had turned murderous, Loki was staring at Tony with a bewildered look—Tony had said nothing about preparing the nursery that day, they hadn't even discussed where the nursery would be yet—and Tony flinched at Natasha's touch, but just as the mood was turning truly ugly, everyone started as a crash of thunder resounded somewhere outside the deli.
Moments later, Thor came striding in, cape flowing behind him. He stood with his hands on his hips, Mjolnir swinging from his wrist, and surveyed the scene. He brightened when he spotted his brother and friends; the deli patrons stared at him for a moment and then went back to their breakfast doings without a second look. Thor laughed heartily.
"Good morn, my dear friends! And, Brother! This is a fine sight, seeing the four of you taking a meal together." Thor wrapped a thick arm around Loki's neck and squeezed affectionately, causing Loki to make a strangled noise, and then Thor grabbed a chair and pulled it up to the table. He missed Loki's disgusted scowl, and seemed oblivious to the tension among the other three. "I'm so glad to have found you, Loki. Searching for someone in this city is akin to identifying a mending device among a pile of straw."
"That's a needle in a haystack, you imbecile," Loki hissed.
Thor just gave Loki a raised eyebrow and then beamed at the rest of the group. "How does one go about procuring a cup of coffee in this establishment?"
"I'll get you one," Natasha said tiredly. She gestured at Clint and Loki. "Keep an eye on those two for me."
A concerned frown crossed Thor's face. "Is there trouble? Loki, what have you done?"
"Nothing!" Loki snapped.
"Clint's having issues," Tony supplied helpfully.
"Because of him!" Clint snarled, jerking a thumb in Loki's direction.
The heat began to rise between the two men, but Thor held up his hand. "Please, I'm sure there's nothing we can't work out if we just stay calm and address one another with respect. What sort of... issues are you experiencing, Archer?"
Natasha returned with an extra-large mug of coffee for Thor and she said, "We think Loki still has a hold on Clint's mind, but he says he doesn't. Discuss."
Thor frowned. "I see." He turned to look at Loki with an appraising eye. "Well, that is very interesting, because I've come to speak with you about a similar affliction that has befallen Dr. Erik Selvig."
"What are you talking about?" Tony asked.
"It's the reason I'm here—Jane sent me. It seems the good doctor also has been experiencing strange visions. I immediately assumed Loki had something to do with it, given that he'd taken control of Selvig's mind once before."
Loki slammed down his fist. "By the Nine! Do you all think I've had nothing better to do with my time than play puppet master with a menagerie of mortals? I have no use for any of you! Well, except for Stark, but the point is, I'm doing nothing to affect anyone's fragile Midgardian mind, and have no interest in doing so, even if I could! Which I cannot." He drummed his index finger on the table for emphasis.
"Well, I'm sorry, but this is getting a little too coincidental," Natasha said evenly. "If Selvig and Hawkeye are both going through this, and the one factor they have in common is what you did to them, then I'm going to say the evidence points directly at you."
"Yeah," Clint said, sounding almost pleased. "We all know what a fucking liar you are—of course you're not going to admit to anything. But, it's obvious. And, when I report this to Fury, your amnesty's going to be revoked, you'll be locked up, and once that kid's out of you, we'll find a way to make you fix this shit, whether you like it or not."
Loki stared incredulously around the table. Then he sat back, nodding knowingly. "Oh, I see. No one believes me. Not one of you? My own brother?" He turned to look Thor in the eye. "Thor, I swear to you—I've nothing to do with this. Can you not take my side for once?"
Thor gravely shook his head. "I'm sorry, Loki, but I cannot. Who else could be responsible for this? The Lady Natasha is right. The evidence points to you."
Loki was overcome by the same futile feeling he'd had so many times as a child. Once he'd pulled a few pranks, once his talent for seidr was recognized, he was always the first one to be blamed for any mishaps around the palace, and no amount of protesting his innocence would help. Thus, he'd become known for his silver tongue, for finding a way out of punishment through a clever tale, because if he hadn't, he'd have spent his entire childhood confined to his room.
Unfortunately, now, he couldn't summon up a single plausible explanation. Perhaps there simply wasn't one. But it hurt knowing that, even after working so hard to change his life for the better, there wasn't one person at the table willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.
He set his jaw, determined not to let his dismay show through, but it was hard to keep his voice steady. "I have nothing to offer in my defense but my word. And, I know that is worthless to all of you." He looked directly at Tony. "Even you," he said softly. He raised his hands in a helpless shrug, a horrible feeling of inevitability coming over him as he realized he could very well end up rotting in a cell for the rest of his life, if no one could figure out the cause of the two men's distress. He unconsciously rubbed his stomach, and tears sprang into his eyes at the thought of having his child taken from him at birth. Then, he felt Tony's hand on his.
"Look at me," Tony said.
Loki raised his eyes. There was a grim set to Tony's mouth, and his eyes flashed with intensity. "I believe you, Loki. I know you wouldn't do this. There's another explanation, and we'll figure it out. We just don't have all the facts yet. In the meantime, no one's taking you away from me." He turned back to face Clint. "I love you, man, but if I have to put on the suit, I will. Loki hasn't done anything wrong. I'd stake my life on it." He turned back to Loki. "Your word's good enough for me, babe. Always." He squeezed Loki's hand reassuringly.
Loki felt his lips tremble as he smiled. Tony believed him! Relief and joy flooded Loki's very core. It was as if all those childhood hurts had been packed in a trunk and dropped into the sea. Tony not only loved him, but he really, truly trusted him, trusted him enough to take his word over the evidence at hand and stand up to his friends. Loki thought he might dissolve into a puddle of sheer happiness.
And, at just that moment, Clint gasped and thrust himself away from the table. Everyone stared at him; his eyes rolled back in his head and he began babbling something in a language that wasn't English. Natasha began speaking soothingly in Clint's ear, but he shook and trembled in his seat, seemingly unaware of her presence. She finally grasped both his hands and called his name more and more loudly and he gradually began to settle and grow quiet. Even then, he had a look of terror on his face that disturbed even Loki.
"I swear I'm not doing that," Loki said firmly. Natasha gave him a sour look, but Thor nodded.
"No, you are not," he agreed.
"How can you say that?" Natasha snapped. "What makes you think we could tell if he was?"
Thor started to answer, but his cell phone rang. He fished around in his armor to find it, checked the number and pressed "talk." "Hello, Jane dearest." The others could hear Jane Foster excitedly talking, and Thor's brow pulled into a frown. He listened without speaking for a while, and then said, "I understand," in a resolute tone. He hung up and announced, "Dr. Selvig is also suffering an attack, and from Jane's description, he is experiencing the exact same effects."
"Well, that's it, then," Natasha said sharply. "Loki's got to be behind it."
Before Loki could protest, Thor straightened in his seat and said, "No. What I have forgotten is that the Allfather would have been informed long ago if Loki was manipulating a human's consciousness again. He would never allow it. Loki would be..." He gave his brother a regretful nod. "...suffering dire punishment by now. Yet, he is not. Therefore, I agree with the Man of Iron—Loki is innocent."
"Wait." Natasha waggled a finger. "Okay, so maybe he's not doing anything on purpose—but, surely there's a connection! Doesn't your girlfriend have any ideas about what's going on?"
Thor shook his head gravely. "She is as bewildered as I am. And, she is quite insistent that I find a way to end these episodes. She fears Dr. Selvig's heart might not stand up to too many more of them." He looked at Loki. "Brother, do you have any idea what is taking place here? And how to stop it?"
Loki bit his lip and shrugged uncertainly. "From what I've just witnessed, it would seem that some of my most dreadful memories... are somehow occurring in the minds of these two men. I can only speculate that some sort of connection between us persists due to the power of the Tessaract. But, I have not the least idea how to destroy it, if indeed that is the case, and no resources that might offer guidance."
He looked Clint right in the eye. "Please know... I am sorry for what I did, and I am sorry for what is happening to you now. I wouldn't wish those memories on my worst enemy." He gave Clint a look of sincere remorse, and then turned to Thor. "It is up to you, brother. You must discover a solution. I'm severely limited in my current state, but I'll do anything I can to help."
Seeing Loki truly regret his own actions left Thor amazed—he'd never seen that emotion in Loki's eyes before, and it did his soul good to see it. Thank the gods he'd been right to believe his beloved little brother was still alive somewhere inside the madman he'd become, and gratitude to his father for finding treatment for him. He gave Loki a small smile and nodded understandingly before speaking.
"All right," Thor said. "It is clear to me that we here do not have the knowledge needed to remedy the situation. But, there is one who surely does." He rose to his feet. "I must go."
"Where are you going?" Natasha demanded.
"To Asgard." Thor nodded at her, Tony, and Clint, squeezed Loki's shoulder and strode out of the deli. The building rattled as Thor departed, and the four remaining stared from one to the other.
Clint shakily took a long drink of coffee and tried to wrap his battered mind around the fact that Loki—Loki—had apologized to him.