So sorry I'm late, I wouldn't leave you on a cliff hanger like that on purpose, My computer was misbehaving. Please forgive to probably many mistakes in this (rather short, filler like) chapter. A billion thank-yous for the huge response to the last chapter, and hope you enjoy this one!
Chapter Twenty-One
"Natasha?" Loki repeated nervously, positioning her head so that it rested on his lap. He pushed her hair, crusted dry with blood, off her forehead, to reveal another deep wound across her cheek. It seemed to be older than the other wounds scattered over her body, and obviously infected. She gave a low moan, her eyes fluttering open for a heartbeat, then dropping closed again. Loki gave a relieved smile, conjuring up a bed of pillows and blankets for her to rest on. He did not envy her the headache she would have upon her awakening.
Satisfied that there was nothing more he could do for her, he turned his attention back to Stark, who was looking frantically for a way to control the ship.
"You destroyed everything Rudolph! There is absolutely nothing left, I've never seen anybody ruin our chances of escape with such finesse before, Bravo."
"One does one's best." Loki answered grimly, strained his head to see what was happening. There was no way he was leaving Natasha's side to help Tony Stark. Tony seemed to brighten for a minute as he turned to Thor.
"Can you contact that bridge dude- Hidemull? Himgrall?" Tony asked as he cut away at a chunk of metal. "Heimdall? Tony I told you, the Bifrost was destroyed, Heimdall can do nothing for us."
"Thanks again for that, Thor. It's quite an inconvenience." Loki drawled as he racked his mind for something they could do, but from what he could see tony was right- he could have destroyed the controls better if he had tried.
Suddenly, the sound of rough static filled the air, and then a muffled voice joined it. "Thor, it's Fandral, what in the Nine Realms is going on up there?" Thor was about to answer when the ship gave a particularly violent shudder, and to their horror, began to tip forward. As Loki felt himself begin to slide down, he conjured a small wall to lean himself and Natasha against. He forgot, however, to do the same for Thor, who was flung against the shattered window, almost slipping through before grabbing the same shard that The Other had held ,what seemed like days ago.
"Eh, Thor's a little preoccupied at the minute, will humble Tony of Midgard do?" Tony said as he looked incredulously at Loki. Asgard has radios? He mouthed, before shaking his head with a bemused grin.
"I suppose so. Tell me Tony of Midgard, why are you trying to crash your ship in the Golden Realm?" Fandral asked impatiently. Tony rolled his eyes.
"Listen buddy, it wasn't by choice. Now, speaking of crashing ships, is there anything you can do to help?"
"They still haven't checked in?" Steve asked for the hundredth time, tapping at one of the screens before Bruce slapped his hand away. "Steve it's entirely plausible that their communicators got destroyed when they landed."
"If they landed." Clint corrected from his designated cool-down corner. He had his head in his hands, and was rocking back and forth slightly. Bruce shot him a dirty look. "Do your calming breaths Barton, or I'll have the good Captain knock you out again." Clint Stood up swiftly, marching towards the exit of the tent.
"And where do you think you're going?" Steve asked, grabbing Clint's forearm warningly. He glanced at him with sympathy. "We're all worried about her, but it's the infamous Black Widow, we're talkin' about here. If you couldn't kill who can?" He joked lightly. Clint shook off his grasp. "I had a motive for not killing her." He said, staring intently at the dark sky. "They don't." He finished softly. He was about to leave, when Bruce cursed loudly behind them.
"No, no, no, no, no! Jesus Christ-" he said, mumbling loudly before laying a swift kick at the computer. "I've lost them, it's all gone." He said, massaging his temples. "What!?" Clint and Steve shouted at the same time, crowding around the computer that showed only a blue screen, void of the rambling information it had displayed moments ago.
"What does it mean?" Clint asked quietly, his voice dangerously calm. Bruce shook his head agitatedly, pacing towards them.
"It means, that they've either gone off the radar- moved into a different atmosphere, 'realm' Thor would say, or they've... the ship... Or they're gone." He ended simply. "The ship could have exploded, crashed, God knows what." He backed away, breathing in and out until his heartbeat calmed. Clint's expression remained empty. "What's more likely." He said quietly. Bruce shrugged, shooting a glance as Steve.
"I don't know Clint. It could have gone either way." Clint gave a short laugh before launching himself at Bruce, pinning him against the rough wooden table.
"You're a scientist, give me the odds!" He shouted, raising his fist about to let it fly forward, when Steve brought a chair down over his head. He dragged Clint's unconscious back over to the empty corner. Bruce watched them carefully, making sure Barton was under control, before pulling a small flask out of the bag Tony had left behind. He took a slug before passing it over to Steve.
"What are the odds?" Steve asked quietly. Bruce glanced back at Barton, then at Erik who had watched the whole incident in silence. He leaned forward against the table, letting out a heavy sigh.
"Minimal."