Chapter 4

The second and the third day passed much like the first, arriving at the carfax in the morning and sitting there for the entire day. Sam would beg, with Sven at his side, calling out to passer-bys for 'Spar' Chan',' or thanking those who were kind enough to drop coins. Sven sat and tried to absorb as much information as he could. He now knew what a car was, that they were in Newcastle, that apparently one direction (he wasn't sure which direction yet) was 'the best thing ever', and many other things. He would sort the coins, grouping them together and, depending on Sam's mood, would occasionally be pulled onto Ol' Sam's lap while Sven tried to ignore the smell.

Then, just as his belly was really beginning to ache, Sam would give him money and send him for food. He always went to the same place and bought he same thing, Sam seemed pleased with it and he didn't want to risk his anger again. The kind lady would smile and be pleasant and talk to him kindly. On his second visit she even gave him a cupcake 'just for him'. He wandered a little more on the second day, but never very far. Old Sam would call him back if he noticed and Sven didn't like the looks people gave him as he walked around, especially in the shops. It made him increasingly aware of how he stuck out, that he was wrong somehow and that made him realise that he felt wrong as well.

The third day started much like any other. They arrived at their spot, which was becoming increasing uninteresting with each passing hour, and begged. He tried not to think too much about the begging, because something about it made him feel… embarrassed. He had no idea why, so, like all the other confusing thoughts, he pushed them away and out of his mind. When he went to get some food though, he found that the kind lady wasn't there. In her place he saw a stern man with a mean expression. He looked down at him, as if he wanted nothing more than the child to be out of his sight. He placed a bag on the counter and spat out, "five pounds". Sven could only look up wide eyed at this change in routine.

"Five pounds or yee get nothing. Ahm not giving it te yee fre free so hand over the money or get out."

Sven nearly ran straight from the bakery, the rude behaviour making him shrink in on himself. He took a step back before remembering that Sam would be very upset if he returned without any food. He could go somewhere else, but where?

"Well, Ah diwent hev aal dyah."

The rough comment pushed Sven to hastily drop the money on the counter, grab the bag and tear out of the shop. He sped round the corner, he mouth turned down and lower lip trembling, and clung the bag closer to his body. That was a terribly unpleasant man. Why was he so rude? Had he done something wrong? Had he been rude to the nice lady somehow?

The light changed to green and Sven sniffled as he followed the crowd across. One thing was for sure, he wasn't going back there unless the nice lady was back. With that decided, he trotted back to the relative safety of Sam, who at least would be happy to see him. When he turned the corner though, he found that the mendicant had already packed up and was standing waiting for him.

As soon as Sam spotted him, he rushed forward and did something her had not done before: he picked Sven up. The boy gasped and clung onto Sam's coat, their meal bouncing off Sam's back. The vagabond shuffled off without a word, carrying the startled child, who looked round from his new vantage point with big eyes.

"Where are we going?"

"'Way."

"Why?" They'd never left so early before.

"Faceless men comin'."

Alarmed, Sven looked back over Sam's shoulder, his eyes scoring the crowds in search of these 'faceless men' as the old tramp mumbled under his breath. A shiver of fear entwined with excitement. However, all he saw were people who most certainly had faces. Where were these men without faces? Hiding? Maybe they were disguised as real people, but then how did Sam know they were there? His grip on his carrier tightened. Maybe only Sam could see them for what they really were. He certainly seemed to see things that others couldn't. If Sven couldn't see them though, how would he know they were there? They had to be dangerous, otherwise, why would they be running away from them.

His protector turned onto a smaller street.

"Sam?" Sven whispered near his ear.

"Pa." The old man rubbed the boy's back. "Ma boi shu call me Pa."

For some reason beyond his understanding, the mere thought made Sven want to crawl out of his skin. It left him colder than any threat of these faceless men could. He tried to say it, to please the man, he really, truly did, but the syllable clung to this throat and refused to leave, almost as if it had claws that prevented it from doing so. He couldn't manage it. So he bypassed it and went straight to his question.

"What are the faceless men?"

"Bas'ards," Sam barked. "Too' ma gurl. Too' ma lif'. Too' ever'thin' frem Ol' Sam, they di'. All same. All faceless men. Tak' ya 'way li'e they di' ta ma Gemma. She was pret'i gurl. No' as goo' as ma boi though. Don' worri, no' as goo' as ma Sven. Ma boi." A dirty hand came up to tangle itself in his passenger's hair, pulling the child even closer to him until Sven feared that the air would rush out of his body and he wouldn't be able to breath. "Ya cam' bac' tho'. Didn' ya. Ma goo' beau'iful boi cam' bac' 'n' Pa won' let em take ya. No faceless men, no demons tak' ya frem meh. Ma luc'y boi. Pa'll loo' afta ya."

The vagrant pressed his lips against Sven's cheek in a wet kiss. It was an unpleasant sensation, and not just because of the beard. It left him feeling as if his skin was trying to pull away from the spot. As soon as the old man turned his attention to muttering under his breath again, the child scrubbed his cheek dry again. He could object, perhaps he should, but he remained silent in the man's arms. If he objected, Sam may get angry and then he might leave Sven to fend for himself. Without Sam, he was lost and hungry. His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't even started eating lunch yet. He supposed now was as good a time as any.

He pulled up the bag and somehow managed to retrieve his food without dropping it everywhere. He ate and wistfully wondered if he'd even see the kind lady again and pondered what the faceless men did to the little children they caught.

(&)

The cafeteria of the Helicarrier was almost empty, unsurprising past midnight. The odd people were scattered around, a group or two and at the end, Bruce and Tony. Bruce was quite content with his coffee and staring out the window as he listened to his friend babble on, sort of listening. He loved his friend, enjoyed working with him, but he did at times wish that the other man had a mute button.

"I just don't get it, you'd think they'd want all the help they could get," Tony exclaimed.

"Maybe next time you should try not heckling them," Bruce suggested.

"You think that was heckling? I have some comedy clubs to take you to."

"Whatever it was, Jane and Erik clearly didn't appreciate it."

"They should be grateful for all the help they can get with Mr. Psychopath 2013 on the loose."

"Emphasis on the help there, you weren't exactly helping."

"I was helping, just because…" Tony trailed off. Curious as to what could silence the infamous mouth of Tony Stark, Bruce turned. Thor was by the drinks stand, helping himself to the largest cup of coffee he could. "This will be fun," the man grumbled.

"I think it might be good to clear the air," Bruce replied as Thor looked up and spotted them. He knew he could use it. They all need to be together on this, they couldn't go back to the widening fractures that had been present between them before Coulson's death. He doubted it would do any of them any good.

"Banner. Stark." Thor nodded to both men as he came to sit beside them.

An awkward silence descended between over the trio, and Tony leapt to break it. "So, there anything else we should know? Or at least anything that you don't think is important, 'cause apparently those two are interchangeable with you now."

Typical Tony, straight in with no tact, at least he got to the point and you always knew where you stood with him. A little subtlety would be nice every now and then though. It just seemed so wrong to see Thor look so uneasy and guilty looking down at his drink like that.

"I apologise. My actions were thoughtless and my mind occupied of late. I had hoped to recover my brother before anything came of the situation. It seems as if I have failed in that regard. I am sorry."

Tony seemed surprised at how easily Thor had given in. "Wow, I thought you'd be a bit more…righteous-y."

Bruce shook his head, ignoring the billionaire. "We needed to know this."

"It would have caused you unnecessary worry. There was nothing you could do, even if you had known."

"Apart from defend ourselves," Tony retorted.

"Against a threat that would never come?"

"Better safe than sorry." Bruce wondered if they even had that saying on Asgard.

"Except he's back now, isn't he?" Tony pointed out.

"Mmmmm." Bruce wasn't entirely sure. This didn't sit well with him at all, there was something wrong. Loki liked the spotlight, almost as much as Tony did. The billionaire may have called Loki a 'full tilt diva', but it was a case of the kettle calling the pot black; Bruce said that with all the love of a close friend. When Loki arrived on Earth last time it was with a bang and he took down a S.H.E.I.L.D. base as he went. As far as they knew, the god had been on Earth for two days and nothing had come of it. It didn't feel right to him; it was like Loki wasn't here at all.

"Looks like Brucey is having a thought."

He ignored Tony and turned to Thor. "Are you sure Loki is here?"

"I am certain, and so is Heimdall. He is rarely wrong in these matters, not since long before I was born."

At least Thor placed a lot of stock in this gatekeeper's opinion.

"What are you thinking?" Tony asked.

"Nothing," Bruce replied. It was best to take Thor's word on this, which left two likely options. A, Loki had learned from the last time was taking a more discreet approach or B, he was planning something big which required him to stay under the radar for the time being. None of them were particularly appealing thoughts. When he looked across at Tony, he had the feeling that the other man's thoughts had drifted to the same lines.

"I am truly sorry, friends. It was never my intent to belittle you or put you in harm's way. I sincerely believed you were safe and that I was acting in the best interest of all those involved."

Tony shrugged. "Forget it." Bruce raised his eyebrows and Thor looked up hopeful. "Hey, everyone knows I've made enough mistakes for twelve people's lifetimes. No stranger to keeping information I should share either. It's polluted water under the metaphorical bridge. So, tell us why you think Loki was kidnapped."

Thor quickly looked down, tightening his grip on his mug. "You will think me a fool."

Bruce tried not to sigh, that was never a start. "Give us a chance."

Thor started down at his coffee. His face was the picture definition of silent contemplation. "I am not sure how to tell you in a manner that you would understand." He shook his head as if thinking this was impossible. "You must understand, I had given up on my brother," he winced. For anyone else, Bruce might have agreed that that sounded bad, but for Loki… Thor would have to be deluded not to; the guy destroyed half of New York without batting an eyelid. "But when he was taken," Thor's gaze hardened, glaring at his helpless drink. "I saw fear in his eyes."

Bruce pitied Thor in that moment, he really did, and he wasn't sure if he should be exasperated or not. He could understand wanting to see the good in a loved one, to wish that they weren't beyond hope, but how many time had Loki tried to kill Thor? There were just some people who were beyond help…and sanity, he added. He remembered Loki doing more than his fair share of terrorising and enjoying it wearing that serpentine grin.

"Loki plays parts, manipulates people and tricks them," he tried to reason.

Thor shook his head. "The fear in his eyes was as real as my hand, of that I am certain. I wonder now if my brother is lost in ways in more ways and contrarily to how I imagined."

"So, everything's forgiven?" Tony asked. "He looks a little scared and we rush to kiss it better?"

"No," Thor rushed. "But perhaps there is more to this than meets the eye."

"You're right," Tony admitted, causing Thor to look up hopefully. "I do think you're deluded."

The Asgardian's expression darkened. His jaw went tense, his stare like lightning. "Do not fear, I did not fail you in New York, and I will not this time. Loki is my responsibility and I will bring him back home by whatever means necessary."

"Now that I believe." Tony pushed his chair back and stood. "That's good enough for me. I'm gonna go play in their lab, sitting around makes me twitchy. Coming, Bruce?"

"Later."

The billionaire shrugged. "Your loss." And he swaggered from the room.

Silence descended again and Bruce marvelled how quickly Tony changed his mind about some things. He supposed it was better than the living with tension in the group, and if Tony could move on after his tower had been compromised and being thrown out of a window, he could too.

"Have you seen Jane yet?" Bruce asked, attempting a little bit of small talk.

"Not yet, I did not think it would be wise to disturb her while she worked."

Bruce couldn't help but smile a little. "So, you're not just delaying the inevitable?"

Thor frowned. "Why should I?"

"It's been about two and half years since you last saw her and you didn't contact her after New York."

"Yes?" Thor continued frowning. "You think she will be angry?"

Bruce sighed, rubbing his eyes. Suddenly not being told about Loki's disappearance didn't seem so bad.

(&)

"BIG ISSUE! BIG ISSUE!" Sharon bounced on the balls of her feet, trying to fend off the chill from settling in her bones. Come one, just one more fucking copy. She scanned the street from her place outside the 'Duke of Northumberland', a good spot to catch drunks willing to part with a couple of quid or people just out for a night. She caught sight of one unsuspecting teenager who slowed down for too long while check his phone.

"Big Issue?" The teen looked up to make eye contact. Score! He hesitated and she already knew what line he was about to spurt, she'd heard all of them enough times. "Gan on," she pushed. "Ah just need one more and Ah get te stay in a B&B the neet."

The teen grumbled and dug around in his pocket, fishing out the two pounds and fifty pence and dropped it in her hand. He took his magazine.

She smiled at him. "Cheers, you're a leif saver."

The boy grunted and slouched off, not even bothering to hide the fact that he threw the magazine into the first bin he came to. Not that she cared, she could just swoop down and take the copy back out of the bin and sell it tomorrow. One copy, twice as much money.

"Whore!"

Sharon groaned at the gruff voice. "It's not whoring, Ahm selling mags, Sam."

She didn't know loads of other bums, mainly other women who used the Women's House, but Sam was one she did, unfortunately. Every time he saw her selling the Big Issue on her claimed spot, he called her a whore. It got old after the first time. She ran into him enough times during his personal rants to himself to catch his name and been shouted at enough times to know to avoid him. She didn't want to know him any better.

He sneered at her. "Whorin' Slu'."

She was debating which come back would be better: 'fuck off' or 'at least I can sell magazines', when something small peeked out from behind the hobo. Two bright blue-green eyes stared up at her. She frowned down at the child who promptly ducked back around the man.

"Who's that?"

Sam pulled the child closer and practically growled at her. "Ma boi."

Yeah? And she was Victoria Beckham. "Yer lad?"

"Ma boi. I foun' 'im. 'E's ma boi!"

"You found him? Where? Did you kidnap him?"

"No! Stopi' slu'."

She looked away from the old hobo to the boy hiding, tight in the man's grasp. "Tha true, lad?"

She could just see enough of the child to see him nod.

"Really?"

The child nodded again, but this time he muttered, "He was there when I awoke. Old Sam looks after me."

This was wrong. The lad sounded right posh, definitely not a kid that should be on the streets. Someone must be missing him and she definitely didn't think he should be hanging around with Sam. He was tiny and while she tried to stay out of other people's business, she wouldn't be comfortable doing nothing.

"You should take him to the police."

He jerked the boy round, out of her sight and closer to him, as if he was worried that she would snatch him from her grasp.

"No! Ma boi!" he snarled. The child looked startled and worried.

"Sam, he's like what? Seven?" She'd never been good with ages, but she didn't think he could be older than that.

"No. Stopi' bitc'. 'E Sven! Sven."

"That's- Oh, forget it." She gave up. "Fine, he's your boy."

The old man glared at her for several seconds before letting go of the lad and walking away, mumbling under his breath about something or another. She rolled her eyes and shock his head, off his rocker, he was. Sven turned to follow the man, but Sharon called out.

"Kid." The lad stopped and looked back. "Yee really ok? Yee divvent hev te stick around wi him yee knaa. Yee could gan te the polliss, at least you'd get a bed an three square meals a dyah. Kids leik yee shouldn't be on the raa. Yee divvent hev te hing around wi tha nutcase."

However, the kid furiously shook his head and backed away. He suddenly turned round and ran after Sam, shoeless feet hitting the pavement hard.

"Well, if yee change ya mind, come find me. Even if yee divvent want te gan te the polliss," she shouted after his retreating back. He showed no sign that he'd heard. Sharon watched him go with a shrug. It had nothing to do with her and it wasn't as if she didn't have enough problems of her own.

A/N: Just a note in case of confusion. The last scene of the last chapter (the meeting with the Avengers) takes place during Sven's second day. Sorry for the confusion.

Next chapter, things aren't going as well for Sven and Old Sam and the Avengers get a plan of action.