Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Some mornings are normal. And some mornings, when Tony is trying to drink his goddamn coffee and Steve is eating a super-human serving of pancakes and Thor is once again stealing from Clint’s pop-tart stash, Loki feels the need to suddenly appear in the common room.

Well, they think it’s Loki. He’s a good foot shorter than the megalomaniac they know and hate, his body willowy instead of frail. His face is softer - younger, even - than when they fought. If they didn’t know him better, they’d say he looks confused.

Thor, as the only one who feels the need to cart his weapons around the penthouse, is swinging mjolnir before Tony’s even able to get his nanotech to suit him up.

Weirdly-young-Loki actually brightens up when he sees Thor, in the seconds before the thunderer swings. Loki’s eyebrows raise as he dodges to the side.

“Really, Thor, what a welcome.” Loki snaps, sidestepping another swing. By now, Tony’s repulsers are powered up and Steve looks ready to fight.

Loki dodges another blow with ease, feet barely touching the ground. Steve and Tony don’t engage - Loki is too close to Thor for either of them to do much good. Later, when their adrenaline rush is gone, they might consider the fact that Loki dodged the entire fight.

Loki sighs. “Are you still angry about the trip to Vanaheim?” He dodges another swing. “Because it really was Sif’s fault.”

“Cease your tricks, brother,” Thor growls. Loki cocks his head and then sidesteps a particularly close blow.

“Tricks?” Loki raises an eyebrow. “I don’t know what tricks you speak of. You’re the one glamoured to look different - nice haircut, by the way.”

Thor just continues his attack.

“Would you be able to tell me how I got here?” Loki asks, glancing around the penthouse. “Wherever here is.”

“Don’t play dumb with me.” Thor growls.

“I’m not the dumb one in this relationship.” Loki dodges again and looks back at Steve and Tony, both still ready to fight.

Loki has the audacity to look confused. “Are we on Midgard? Why would we be on Midgard?”

“You shouldn’t be here.” Thor yells, voice almost mournful.

“Really, if you want me gone that badly, call for Heimdall.” Loki shrugs. “I could find my way home, but I don’t exactly come to this backwater planet often enough to know a direct route.”

Tony’s protests at Earth being called a “backwater planet” are cut off by Thor’s voice becoming grave. “Heimdall is dead.”

Loki stills at that, and Mjolnir almost hits him, before he shakes his head and steps aside.

“That is… unfortunate.” Loki says, strangely quiet. “May the norns guide him to Valhalla.”

The only noise for the next few seconds is the swing of Thor’s hammer and Loki’s bare feet against the floor.

“It has to be possible, though,” Loki says, his brows furrowed like he’s trying to work out a particularly hard math problem. “For father to man the bifrost. Even mother’s sorcery might do.”

Thor winces. “Stop this, Loki,” he snarls. “Asgard is gone!”

“That’s - that’s not possible.” Loki argues. Tony tries to ignore how young, how scared Loki sounds. He’s a genocidal maniac, no matter how good of an actor he is.

“Asgard is gone, brother.” Thor repeats, still swinging. “And so are father and - ”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Thor.” Loki says it like a threat, but there’s just enough fear in there to dull the effect.

“Mother’s dead, Loki.”

And then Loki stops dodging. He just stands there staring at Thor, something like devastation in his eyes, while Tony has some nanobots restrain Loki. They aren’t exactly magic-proof, but Loki doesn’t look like he’s going to be fighting anytime soon.

Chapter Text

Loki is brought to a cell. He’d prefer not to be in a cell, of course, but Thor’s hand doesn’t leave his shoulder the entire way there and he’s a little too dazed to fight back.

The cell is strange - circular and clear. Immediately, Loki probes the walls with his seidr. He can still access his seidr, but it cannot break through to the other side of the glass. With nothing better to do than creep out Thor and his midgardian allies (friends?), Loki sits directly in the middle of the cell and stares out. He holds Steve’s gaze through the glass. (Steve blinks first.)

“We shall return momentarily, brother,” Thor bellows. “Wait here.”

“It doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice,” Loki says. He still hasn’t blinked - which, Tony has to admit, is kind of disconcerting. But discounting the whole dead-genocidal-maniac thing and the not-blinking thing, Loki looks young. He looks more like someone who should be in Peter’s classes than someone who should be in a high-tech Avenger prison. Tony shakes that thought away.

They exit to the hallway, where they can still see Loki but he cannot hear them.

“Fuck,” Tony says, eloquently.

“How are we supposed to deal with this?” Steve asks.

Thor’s eyes go stormy. “It would serve you well to remember that this is my brother.”

Tony scoffs. “Are we really buying the lost puppy thing? Because I, for one, am skeptical.”

“He is capable of shape shifting,” Steve adds. “Do we have any way of knowing if he’s pretending to look younger?”

Thor nods. “Loki’s shifting requires sedir. He can only hold a shift for so long before he has to recharge.”

“Do you know how long he can stay in one form?” Tony says. “We could use that to figure out whether he’s pretending to look young or not.” Secretly, Tony desperately hopes that Loki is just pretending. He doesn’t want to acknowledge the other possibility - that of a younger, slightly-less-crazy-but-definitely-still-a-bag-of-cats Loki is now in his home.

Thor shrugs sadly. “Last time he confided such things in me was a couple hundred years ago. At that point, he could hold a shift for a little under a week.”

“We could go interrogate him, see if he slips up.” Steve says.

“He won’t slip up.” Thor says, almost-fond.

“He certainly won’t if we don’t try.” Steve says, crossing his arms.

“I agree,” Tony says. “I definitely have some questions.”

“We have some questions to ask you,” Steve says, sitting backwards on a chair.

Loki peers out from the cell. “Good for you.”

“How old are you?” Tony asks.

Loki raises an eyebrow. “I passed 800 recently. Perhaps half a century ago?” He shrugs. “I’m somewhere in the 850 range. Why?”

Thor sucks in a breath.

“What’s wrong?” Tony demands.

“Nothing,” Thor shakes his head. “He should actually be around 1050. He’s only 450 years younger than me.” His voice drops so low that Tony almost doesn’t hear him. “Asgardians don’t reach the age of majority until 1000.”

Steve nods. “So, if he’s telling the truth, he’s a minor.”

“If you’re going to keep talking about me as if I’m not here, you might as well leave me alone. Which would really make this the shortest interrogation I’ve ever experienced.” Loki snarks.

“Must you aggravate my friends, brother?” Thor asks. Tony almost feels bad - the big guy sounds tired.

“It’s my favorite pastime,” Loki says.

“Okay,” Steve sighs. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, right here, I seem to be in a cell. Or do you mean Midgard?”

“Migard,” Steve responds, a muscle in his jaw twitching.

“That is a very good question that I’m afraid I don’t have the answer to,” Loki shrugs, looking way too relaxed. “Last I remember, I was in Mother’s garden, hoping to speak with her. Then I was here.” He smiles in a way that would be charming if it wasn’t on Loki. “May I ask why I’m in this cell? Because I would assume it was because Midgard doesn’t remember earlier interactions between Asgard and Midgard and is having a hard time processing first contact. However, I have to discount that theory, as Thor seems to have your trust.”

“Earlier interactions?” Tony asks, voice low.

“Yeah.” Loki looks at Tony like he’s a very stupid child. “The war against the Jotun took place on Midgard hundreds of centuries ago.” Loki shrugs. “I also tend to stop by for a visit every few hundred years.”

“And when was your last visit?” Steve asks. It would sound casual if it wasn’t for the clear tension of everyone outside the glass. Funny, Loki looked calmer than all of them.

“A couple years ago.” Loki says, looking far too pleased. Tony is seconds away from summoning a suit, damn whatever Thor says. Loki continues: “It was, what, the early 1800s?” He has an almost faraway look. “I wonder how London’s doing now.”

“London’s doing just fine, thank you.” Tony snaps. He tells himself being on edge is perfectly justified - is everyone else forgetting that Loki threw him through a goddamn window? Not to mention the fucking wormhole. “What do you know about Thanos?”

Steve and Thor gasp. The wound is still raw, for all of them, and though they managed to stop Thanos from snapping and ostensibly wiping out half of the universe, the battle was neither gentle nor without casualties.

Loki just looks confused. “Like the story?” He furrows his brow. “The Mad Titan, in love with Death, kills people as gifts to her? That Thanos?”

“We’re talking about a little bit more than a story, Loki,” Thor says gravely.

Loki nods. “Well, most stories do have a basis in reality. That’s what makes them matter. I wouldn’t be surprised if Thanos did exist, especially since the infinity stones do.”

“What do you know about infinity stones?” Thor asks, gripping mjolnir so tightly his knuckles go white.

“In the treasure room, in Asgard, there is a glove with room for six stones,” Loki sighs. “Combine that with hundreds of references throughout Asgardian and Vanaheimr texts and folklore to stones with mysterious and frightening powers. Together, the likelihood of the infinity stones actually existing seems rather high.” Loki shrugs, something like mirth on his face. “Honestly, with all that, I’m almost surprised that the All Father never got his hands on one. Sun never sets, and all that.”

“What is that supposed to mean,” Thor asks. “I tire of your riddles.”

Loki perks up. “Oh, I heard it in London! ‘The sun never sets on the British empire.’ Because they conquered so much of Midgard.” Loki smirks at Thor. “Sounds a bit familiar.”

“It is treason to speak about the All Father so.” Thor growls.

Loki cocks his head to the side. “When have either of us cared about something as small as committing treason?” His eyes go cold, even if his voice keeps its playful tone. “And I believe you told me that our parents are dead. Does that not make you the All Father, Thor?”

Steve and Tony have to grab Thor’s arms to keep him from doing something he might regret.

“This has been very helpful,” Steve says. “We’ll be back.”

Loki simply nods.

Steve closes the door behind them, face grave. “When I first signed up to be Cap, I wanted to help my country. I wanted to prove that a skinny asthmatic kid could be worth something.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t sign up to get children killed.”

“If he even is a kid!” Tony argues. “He is a genius manipulator. Who’s to say he didn’t lay low for a couple months and then decide to pretend to be an age that would hurt Thor and endear him to us. We need to tell the others.”

“If we tell the others, Natasha and Clint are going to tell SHIELD.” Steve’s voice is low. “And I’d understand, I really would. Especially with what he did to Clint. But if he really is a kid, we can’t take that back. And I’m not certain SHIELD will care.”

Thor shakes his head. “There is no Asgard to take him back to. New Asgard is already having a hard time navigating Midgardian politics and customs. If it gets out that Loki is alive - young or not - we would be in serious trouble.”

“But we can’t just keep him here.” Tony adds. “First off, this is my home. And most of the time it’s Cap and Bruce’s home too. The others all have floors. I don’t want him living in my home. And would it be a good idea for him to be kept in the middle of the city he tried to fucking conquer?”

“I can’t see a better option,” Steve says. “We should keep a close watch on him, see if his persona falters. If he’s shifting or not.”

“If he is?” Tony asks.

“Then he’s a war criminal and I would feel less guilty handing him over to SHIELD.”

“And if he isn’t?”

Steve shook his head. “Then we have our work cut out for us.”

Chapter Text

“You said he can hold a form for a little under a week?” Steve asks. Thor nods his agreement.

“I guess the countdown is on,” Tony says.

Day 1
“Stand back,” Steve says.

Loki rolls his eyes and obliges. It’s not like he’s going to try anything - one of Thor’s friends, the one Thor called Son of Stark, is pointing something at Loki from the doorway. The implication is pretty clear - and Thor’s friends have always liked weapons.

The other man, the one with the shield, heaves a mattress into the cell.

“Here,” he says. He hands Loki some blankets as well. Interesting - usually captors don’t particularly care about Loki’s wellbeing. Perhaps this is Thor’s doing? Though it would be odd…

The man is looking at him strangely.

“Is there something you would like to say,” Loki asks (rather magnanimously, in his opinion.)

“We’re as confused as you are,” the man says. “But we’re not going to punish you for that.”

Loki nods. He doesn’t know all of their ticks yet, the tells that let him know when people are lying. But this man seems sincere. Do they treat prisoners differently here, or is this man just an optimist?

“Interesting.” Loki says. And then, because he was raised to have manners, he thanks the man.

Well, technically he says “thanks, midgardian.” But then again, it was rude of the man to not introduce himself in the first place, so Loki thinks he’s morally in the clear.

The man blinks. “My name is Steve.”

Loki nods. “Thank you Steve.”

Day 3
“I come bearing gifts.”

Loki looks up. One of Thor’s friends - not Steve, the more annoying one - stands in front of the glass. He’s holding a couple books in his arms.

“Steve said I had to bring you something to read.” Tony shrugs. “Something about solitary confinement being torture and anti-American.”

Loki tilts his head. “America? Like, the colonies?”

“Well, not anymore. We had a whole war and everything.” Tony says flippantly. Maybe he shouldn’t be so callous about a literal war - but it is kind of amusing that Loki, whose every word implies that he thinks he’s the smartest person in the room, doesn’t know that America is America. Or, of course, he could be pretending. Which is a less amusing thought.

“Interesting.” Loki says. He raises an eyebrow at Tony. “I believe I was promised gifts?”

“That you were.” Tony concedes. “I don’t actually know what you like, but Pepper left some Shakespeare in the penthouse. And seeing how you and Thor talk like you’re trying to put on a play, I figured it would be appropriate.”

Tony holds out the top book so Loki can see it through the glass.

Loki smirks. “The mad prince of Denmark. Really?”

“Do you have a problem with that?” Tony asks.

Loki’s staring at him. “Well, that begs the question: do you think I’m crazy.”

“Why would you ask that?” Tony says, instead of saying what he wants, which is somewhere between ‘I think your brain is a bag of cats’ and ‘You threw me out of a goddamn window.’

“Perhaps because I’m on the wrong side of a cell. Perhaps because you seem to be allies with my brother. Perhaps because you’re offering me one of the best known pieces of literature about a mad prince’s untimely death?” Loki’s staring at Tony. Tony has an uncanny feeling that Loki has been cataloging his facial responses the entire time.

“If I was threatening you, you’d know it.” Maybe not the most diplomatic thing he could say, but Steve isn’t here to chide him and Thor isn’t here to give him puppy dog eyes over his homicidal little brother.

“Conscience doth make cowards of us all,” says Loki, who is apparently well versed in both Shakespeare and being fucking creepy.

Day 5
Thor’s first visit to the cell was spent in silence, the brothers staring at each other across the glass. Thor didn’t know what to say - and Loki was lost in thought, a childhood predisposition he never quite rid himself of.

The second visit, unfortunately, is not as uneventful.

“We’ve been brothers for over a millennium! And yet, without fail, you drop me every time something new and shiny comes along.” Loki snarls, his studied composure cracking for the first time that week. “You trust these midgardians more than you trust me?”

Thor sighs. “I trust most anyone more than I trust you.”

“What did I do for you to hate me so?” Under the anger in Loki’s voice, there is something young and desperate. Thor pretends not to hear it. Anger is so much easier.

“I don’t hate you Loki,” Thor sighs again. Loki thinks Thor looks unspeakably old. He looks a bit like the All Father. “If you’re the Loki we think you are, you know what you did. And if you’re not, then it’s better if you don’t know.”

Loki shakes his head. “I don’t really know what’s going on or why I’m here. But we both know I’ve never responded well to information kept from me ‘for my own good.’” Loki attempts a smile.

“I watched you die, Loki.” Thor’s voice is grave. Loki’s smile falls. He looks young and lost and kind of pitiful. Thor wants to hug him, wants to hit him, wants to scream until his voice goes hoarse.

Thor does none of those things. “You have done terrible things, Loki. But you also died a hero. You better not throw away this chance.”

Loki looks at Thor, pity coloring his gaze. “You do realize I’m not that person, right, Thor?” His voice is low, soothing. “Unlike you, I can traverse the universe without a ship. A couple days climbing through Yggdrasil and I’d be wherever I want. If I was this Loki who died, why wouldn’t I pretend to stay dead? What possible motive would I have to come back?”

“You have me,” Thor says.

Loki doesn’t have a response for that.

Day 7
“We need to talk,” Steve says, all patriotism and sincerity.

Thor nods. “Yes, we do. Clearly, my brother is innocent.”

Tony chuckles. It’s going to take a lot more than this to convince him. “I wouldn’t go that far, Point Break. But I will admit, it has been a week and he’s shown no sign of faking.”

“I think we should let him walk around or something. I’m still against solitary confinement.” Steve says. “It’s wrong. And if he is a teenager - which is seeming more likely by the day - this could be highly traumatic.”

Tony doesn’t particularly care if Loki is traumatized. (And, seeing how much of an asshole he is whenever anyone stops by his cell, Tony is pretty sure Loki’s doing just fine.)

“Do we have any magic suppressing cuffs?” Steve asks. “If so, we really should let him at least stretch his legs.”

Thor smiles like a fool. Tony throws his hands up. “Fine! Let’s just let the genocidal maniac walk around my house! What a great idea.”

(Tony is outvoted. Tony also has to go tell Loki of this update, because apparently life hates him.)

Day 7 + 1

“If you put these on, you can get out of there.” Tony holds up an extra pair of cuffs from the Battle of New York.

Loki looks at the cuffs with distaste and, if Tony’s not mistaken, a smidge of fear. “I’m not wearing those.”

Tony sighs. He knew he should have sent Cap to do this. “Come on. It’ll only be for a little bit. You can stretch your legs. And Thor really wants to see you.”

Loki shrugs. “Then he can come visit me in the cell that he put me in.”

Tony winces because, harsh. “Then you can’t come out.”

“Fine,” Loki shrugs. “You’re midgardian. You’ll die at some point in the next eighty years anyway. I can wait.”

Tony ignores the part of his mind that tells him Loki’s threatening him. If he was, he certainly has a long timeline. But Loki doesn’t sound like he’s joking, either.

Tony clears his throat because who the fuck would keep someone in a single cell for decades. Isn’t that against the Geneva Conventions or something? “We’re… we’re not going to keep you in a cell for eighty years.”

Loki shrugs and lies back on his bed. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Tony prides himself on his quips. But seriously… “What the fuck, kid.”

“I’d really prefer if there wasn’t any venom dripping into my eyes this time. Could that be arranged?”

Tony doesn’t dignify that with a response. Because seriously - what the fuck.

Chapter Text

“You wanted to see me?” Bruce asks. Tony thinks Bruce looks more tired than usual.

“You look more tired than usual.” Tony says, throwing tact out the window. (̶K̶i̶n̶d̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶l̶i̶k̶e̶ ̶h̶o̶w̶ ̶L̶o̶k̶i̶ ̶t̶h̶r̶e̶w̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶ ̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶a̶ ̶f̶u̶c̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶w̶i̶n̶d̶o̶w̶.̶)̶

Bruce blinks owlishly. “Um, thanks?”

“So, we have a situation.” Tony starts.

Bruce takes a deep breath, shaking his head. “Should I be worried?”

Tony winces. “That depends. How would you react if I told you Loki’s alive?”

Look — Bruce isn’t particularly proud of the fact that he spent two years as the Hulk beating people to a pulp. And he doesn’t particularly like Loki. But that doesn’t change the fact that the last time Bruce saw Loki, Loki was fighting to save the people of Asgard. That has to count for something.

“Honestly, I’m not even that surprised.” Bruce says. Because Loki worming his way out of bad situations seems like his entire MO.

“Okay,” Tony says, caught off guard by Bruce’s calm. “Well, how would you react if I said that Loki may or may not be a teenager who doesn’t remember the last 200 years?”

“That still wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to happen this year.” Bruce’s brow furrows. “What does this have to do with me?”

“Well, Loki is possibly in the Tower.”

“Oh.” Bruce says.

“And that may be a secret at the moment.”

Bruce sighs. Tony plows forward.

“And we may or may not need you to make sure that Loki’s vitals and everything are fine cause if he dies in our care Thor is going to go fucking ballistic. Also, an X-Ray might confirm his age.”

“You do remember that I’m not a medical doctor, right?” Bruce raises an eyebrow. (Does he regret getting 7 PhDs? Only a little bit.)

Tony sighs. “You’re the best option we have.”

Bruce would much rather be doing science stuff than Hulk stuff, any day. So he agrees. Begrudgingly.

“Rise and shine,” Tony sings.

Loki pulls a pillow over his head and turns over.

“We need medical to check up on you. Well, not medical, cause nobody other than the Avengers know you exist right now. But you’ll get to meet Big and Green!”

Loki pushes aside the pillow and stares at Tony in distaste. “I’m still not wearing those cuffs.”

“Yeah,” Tony sighs. “I think you are.”

“I really don’t think so.”

“If you don’t put them on, we’re going to have to send Thor in there to make you.”

Loki freezes. Tony can’t help but think he played the wrong hand.

“Why do you think I can’t take Thor?” Loki asks. “Because I am fully capable of fighting Thor and winning.”

“When you first got here, he took you down,” Tony says, ignoring the second part of Loki’s comments. He doesn't have the time nor patience for this.

Loki stares at Tony like he’s a particularly stupid child. Tony is getting a bit tired of that. “I was only dodging. You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

Tony shakes his head. “I’m afraid I do.”

Loki’s eyebrows crinkle. He picks at his palm and studies Tony’s face. Tony hates how young he looks.

“Fine,” Loki whispers.

When Tony puts the cuffs on Loki, a shudder runs through his whole body. Loki gasps sharply.

“You alright?” Tony asks. He knows that Loki’s a good actor, but he looks pained. And if Steve thinks their prisoner is hurt, he’s going to go all ‘America is better than that’ at Tony. Again.

“Come on, kid. Sooner we get this over with, sooner you can get that metal off you.”

Loki grits his teeth and follows.

Loki cocks his head when they get to the Med Bay. “You’re new,” he says to Bruce.

Bruce stares at Loki. Except for Thor, Bruce has spent the most time with Loki. He knows Loki’s cruelty and his rare compassion. But this Loki looks so young. He’s staring at Bruce with interest but absolutely no recognition. Bruce clears his head and does his job. He’s gotten rather good at that.

Everything goes smoothly for the blood pressure and the X-Ray. Loki is snarky, but no more than usual. They are so close to the end when things take a turn for the worse.

“I’m going to have to draw your blood,” Bruce says gently.

Loki’s eyes widen. “Absolutely not.”

“‘Tis the last thing, brother.” Thor says. He tries to place a hand on Loki’s shoulder, but Loki wrenches away.

“Fine.” (Loki does not look fine. He’s shaking a little.)

Loki presses his eyes together when the needle is brought out.

“This will only take a minute,” Bruce says.

Loki winces when the needle goes in. Then his eyes open wide and he looks straight at Thor.

“I feel strange.” His face is shades paler than it was already — which, frankly, Tony hadn’t known was possible. Then his eyes slip closed and his head falls back.

“Shit.” Tony says.

“What did you do to my brother?” Thor yells.

“Nothing,” Bruce says, putting some rubbing alcohol on a cotton pad. “Passing out while getting blood drawn happens sometimes. He might be dehydrated. Or stressed. There are lots of reasons it might have happened.”

Bruce slips the needle out of Loki’s arm and presses a band aid in its place. (The band aid has a little cartoon Iron Man on it. This is Tony’s tower goddamnit, and he can have Iron Man band aids if he wants them). Then Bruce waves the cotton pad under Loki’s nose.

Loki’s eyes open slowly.

“Thor,” he mumbles.

“Yes, brother?” Thor’s eyes are wide and hopeful.

“This is why I don’t listen to you.”

Chapter Text

“Loki’s growth plates indicate that he hasn’t finished puberty,” Bruce says, holding the X-Rays.

“Fuck,” says Tony.

“We have to tell the others,” Steve says. “They need to know. They deserve to know.”

“We?” Tony smirks. “I want absolutely no part of telling Clint that Loki’s here. You want to keep him like a stray puppy, you have to tell the spies.”

“It won’t be that bad, Tony, seriously,” Steve says. (It’s definitely going to be that bad.)

“I have something important to tell you,” Steve starts. “It is going to be upsetting, but I really need you to hear me out.”

Natasha looks wholly unamused.

Clint shrugs. “Can it be any more traumatic than the last couple years?”

Steve grimaces, shifting guiltily. Natasha raises her eyebrow.

“About that,” Steve starts. “Loki’s in the Tower.”

Clint shoots up, grabbing a gun from its holster on his thigh. “I’ll fucking kill him.”

Steve sighs. “That’s the part I need you to hear me out on.”

Clint looks acutely murderous and Natasha doesn’t look much better. Steve is glad Thor’s not here — this is not a good time for Thor to make excuses for his brother.

“We have a strong theory that this Loki is not the same one who attacked New York. He has no memory of the last 200 years, acts and looks younger, and his X-Rays showed growth plates consistent with teenagers at 16.”

Clint laughs, sharp and ugly. “He’s fucking controlling you or something, because there is no way in hell that I am buying your bullshit.”

Natasha cuts in before Steve can respond. “You’ve had him long enough to do X-Rays?”

“Yes,” Steve says. Dodging the real meaning of the question, he continues: “His elbows, ankles, and wrists are fused. But the plates at his knees, hips, and shoulder haven’t fused yet. He is biologically a teenager.”

“I’ll make sure they don’t fucking fuse,” Clint mutters.

“When, exactly, were you planning on informing SHIELD about this?” Natasha asks.

Steve winces. “We weren’t.” At Natasha’s look — half derision and half amusement — he hurries to explain. “Loki has been in the cell or magic suppressant cuffs this entire time. If we found that he was the Loki we know, and faking it, we would have contacted SHIELD immediately. But it’s looking more and more likely that he’s actually a kid. And I cannot allow a child to get hurt — even if that child is Loki.”

“I still don’t like this,” Clint says. “In fact, I fucking hate it.”

“Look,” Steve starts.

“No!” Clint cuts in. “Does nobody remember that he undid me? He took me apart and put me back together so he could take over Earth for Thanos. He worked for Thanos and you want to convince me that he’s chill now? How do we know he’s not trying to bring Thanos back or something?”

Steve sighs. “We didn’t tell you before, because we wanted to be sure. But we’re telling you now.”

“Let’s just cut to the chase,” Natasha says. “You want us to lie to SHIELD.”

“Normally, I wouldn’t even consider it,” Steve says, using his best I’m-the-leader-please-listen-to-me voice. That voice has gotten a lot of use lately. “But I’m not okay with throwing a child onto the Raft and throwing away the key. I’m hoping you two aren’t okay with that either.”

Natasha shakes her head in amazement. “You’re really serious.”

“I don’t want to play this card,” Steve says. “But you know how important second chances are.”

Natasha glares at Steve, who meets her gaze and doesn’t look away. “Look,” he says softly, “I’m not asking you to be friends with him. In fact, we would love for you to help make sure he isn’t playing a long con on us. But he is staying in the Tower, and since you have floors there, it is right that you know about it. I don’t have a way to make sure you don’t tell SHIELD. But I can’t stand by and let a kid get hurt. I hope you feel the same.”

Natasha stares back at Steve. Finally, she nods almost imperceptibly. Clint still glares at Steve, anger and maybe a little fear in his eyes.

“Fine,” Clint says. “But he sets one fucking toe out of line and I will stick him full of arrows and then have Fury on speed-dial.”

“Understandable,” Steve says. “Thank you for listening.”

Chapter Text

“I’d like to introduce you to some people,” Steve says to Loki, who would really like to just be left alone.

Loki raises an eyebrow. “More people to point weapons at me? How delightful.”

Steve grimaces slightly. “That… is not exactly what I meant.”

Loki shrugs. “It was implied.”

Loki looks past Steve, to the woman with a shock of red hair and the man who is very deliberately pointing an arrow at him. (Internally, Loki wonders why someone would be using a bow and arrow when all the other technology on Midgard seems so much more advanced than just a couple hundred years ago. He does not ask, because the man looks like he would be more than happy to shoot.)

“Hello,” he says. “I’d say it’s nice to meet you but I’m not really getting that impression.”

“Let’s cut the crap,” the man says.

“Clint,” says Steve. Loki files that away — names have power, and it is much easier to refer to people by names than by general descriptors.

“No, Cap,” Clint says. “If I’m going along with this frankly suicidal plan, I’m at least going to give Loki a piece of my mind.”

Steve — people keep calling him Cap, which Loki needs to find out more about — sighs. “Fine.”

The man takes steps forward, until he is just inches away from the glass. “You hurt a single person on Earth and I will tear you limb from limb.”

Loki raises an eyebrow. “Wow, you really do sound like Thor’s friends. I’m rather impressed.”

And look, Loki knows that goading captors isn’t a good idea. If it weren’t for his seidr, and mother’s, he would have the scars to prove it. But he’s clinging desperately to an illusion of control.

Clint bangs his fist against the glass and Loki doesn’t flinch, not exactly. But he tenses, staring back at the man. He notes that Clint seems the angriest at him — he wonders why, exactly. Thor had told him that he had done terrible things on Midgard. Loki doesn’t know what those terrible things were, but Loki would bet his seidr that it somehow affected Clint.

Loki looks away from Clint. Steve’s looking disapproving — but at Clint instead of Loki, which is not what Loki was anticipating. The woman is just watching Loki, face unnaturally still. Loki doesn’t feel scared, not exactly, but he knows that expression and he doesn’t like it. She’s cataloging him for reactions, sizing him up. Loki knows that expression well. He’s usually wearing it.

“Back up,” Steve says. Loki obliges, though he really would prefer to stay where he is, separated from Clint and the woman who both very clearly dislike him. And who both carry themselves like warriors.

Steve snaps the cuffs on and Loki tries to stay very, very still. He can feel the moment his seidr is cut off. He feels unbearably cold.

“May I ask where we’re going?” Loki asks. He is getting really tired of not knowing what’s going on.

“Team meeting,” is all Steve says. Loki does not mention that that sounds vaguely foreboding.

“We need to figure out what we’re going to do about Loki,” Steve says to the assembled Avengers: Tony, Thor, Bruce, Natasha, and Clint.

Loki rolls his eyes in the corner. He’s betting he’s here because they want to keep an eye on them but don’t have any spare manpower. (He’s right, of course.) All of his energy was leached out with the cuffs and he genuinely considers taking a nap during this Very Important Meeting. The need to know what’s going on wins out, but just barely.

“I think we should keep the cuffs on him and allow him on the common floor and Thor’s floor,” Steve says. “That way we can keep an eye on him without having to switch shifts for the cell.”

Thor nods. “Yes, I will keep an eye on Loki.”

Clint throws up his hands. “Are you serious? You’re playing directly into his hands. There are more than enough things that he could use as weapons if he really tried. This idea is insane.”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “We can tell FRIDAY to watch him. She can alert us if he’s going near anywhere he isn’t supposed to.”

Loki wonders who Friday is, why he hasn’t met them yet, and why they have such a stupid name. He shivers slightly, thanks to those damn cuffs.

“If it’s all the same to you, I think I’d rather stay in the cell,” Loki says. If he’s lucky, they’ll agree.

“Sorry kid, that’s not an option,” Tony says. He does look almost sorry. Loki files that away for later.

They’re genuinely trying to kill me, Loki thinks, as the cold continues sinking into his bones.

“Well, that’s settled,” Steve says. “Loki, we have some ground rules.”

Loki stares at Steve. He doesn’t particularly care about the rules. At this point, he doesn’t particularly care about anything. He’s cold and he’s tired and he just wants the soothing hum of his seidr back.

“You are not to hurt anyone, inside of the Tower or otherwise. You will listen to any instructions given by members of the Avengers. You will only go places where you are allowed. FRIDAY will be watching and keeping us updated. And the cuffs are going to stay on.”

“Oh,” says Clint. “And if you fucking try to mess with my head, or anyone else's, I will deal with you myself.”

Loki cocks his head to the side. “Mess with your head?” He asks. “I don’t know if your myths have been exaggerated over the years but I’m persuasive, not controlling. I can’t actually do mind-magic.”

Clint snorts. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

Loki does not particularly want to pick a fight. But it’s been over a week and he’s in seidr-suppressant cuffs and he still doesn’t know why.

“Why,” Loki asks. The Avengers stare at him, not answering. “Would someone please just tell me what I did?”

“Oh,” Loki says, looking vaguely sick.

“Yeah,” says Clint. “So forgive me if I don’t exactly enjoy your presence.” Clint pauses for a moment, considering. “Actually, I actively despise you and don’t really care how you feel about it.”

Loki nods, eyes still wide. He bites his lip, looking pained and a little thoughtful. “If older me… stupid or something?”

Whatever the Avengers were expecting, that wasn’t it. “What?” Steve asks.

“So I opened a tiny portal right on top of the base of Midgard’s heroes? Such a small portal that only one ship could get through at a time? And why would I even choose New York? Last time I was here you were still a colony. And, again, mind control is not something I’m capable of. Altogether that sounds like a horrible plan,” says Loki. “I mean, if I really wanted to take over Midgard, which I don’t, why would I ever take such an offense-heavy approach? I have lifetimes more time than you do, I can wait.” Loki looks lost in his thoughts, like he’s genuinely considering the best plan to take over Midgard. “It would definitely be possible for me to slowly take over countries throughout the world. I’m perfectly capable of holding multiple alter-egos. I still don’t quite see the benefits to that plan, as I don’t want to conquer Midgard, but it would definitely be possible.”

Loki looks up. The Avengers are all staring at him, anger and disbelief on their faces.

“What?” Asks Loki, defensively. “Don't get me wrong, the death count is horrible. But it was also such a terrible plan that I’m a little ashamed you’re ascribing it to me.”

“Seventy-four people died, Loki,” Steve says. “This isn’t a joke.”

Loki’s brows crinkle. “I know this isn’t a joke. Good jokes don’t usually involve me being unable to reach my seidr.”

Thor claps his hands. Natasha is the only one who notices Loki’s almost-imperceptible flinch. “Since we’re already here, Loki might as well join us for dinner.”

“I don’t know about that,” Tony starts.

“Great, I’m so glad you agree!” Thor says, out of his seat and hauling Loki up by his arm. “Come, Loki, I must show you how truly wondrous Midgardian food is.”

Chapter Text

Forty minutes and a very large pizza order later, the Avengers are Loki are seated around a large table. Loki is crowded next to Thor, a large slice of pizza on his plate. He waits a moment before eating, watching how the Avengers eat.

“They’re not going to poison you, brother,” Thor booms.

Loki rolls his eyes. Of course they’re not going to poison him: if that was the plan, they would have done so already.

“I know that,” Loki says calmly. “I was attempting to observe the table manners here.”

“Oh,” Thor says. “It is considered rude to break things.”

Loki sighs deeply. “Yes, I figured that one out, thank you.” He considers what he’d have to do to get back the relative quiet and solitude of the cell. But the Avengers seem so trigger happy that he doesn’t think that’s a particularly good idea.

Dinner is stilted and uncomfortable, Loki picking at his pizza while the Avengers stare at him. Well, most of them stare. Clint seems to be trying to murder Loki with his glare, which Loki grudgingly respects. Most of them immediately leave once dinner ends, which Loki doesn’t mind.

Thor leads Loki to a living room. Bookcases line the walls, most of them bare except for trinkets and artistically placed books. There is, however, a bookshelf in the corner that actually has books on it. Loki scans the bookshelf and grabs a dozen or so books that actually look interesting. He wraps himself in a blanket — damn the cuffs and the cold — and starts reading.

By the time dusk has fallen, Loki has been sitting silently reading for hours, ignoring Thor’s many attempts to talk to him.

“It is time for bed,” Thor says.

Loki looks up, piles of books surrounding him. “Must I?” He asks. “I’m reading.”

Thor sighs. “You can stay here. But FRIDAY will be watching and will alert everyone if you go anywhere other than my rooms when you’re done.”

Loki nods and turns back to his books. Like always, Thor is woefully underestimating him. His seidr is locked away, yes, but that's where Thor always goes wrong. Loki is so much more than just his seidr. Loki is clever, painfully so, and he could bring down the world with a plastic spoon and a good enough plan. If he wanted to, he could plant seeds of discord. He could sabotage them while they slept. He doesn't need his magic for that. Luckily for them, he doesn't want to.

Loki wants a lot of things. He wants Mother. He wants Thor to treat him like an equal. He wants to feel his seidr. But Loki doesn’t usually get what he wants. So he settles for some books and a blanket and the Norns-blessed silence.

Tony realizes he should probably go to bed when the gadget he is tinkering with blows up. His realization is aided by the information that it is somehow four in the morning.

Walking through the hallway in the dark, a shadow in the common area makes Tony almost jump out of his skin. Because Loki, possible-mass-murderer-Loki, is sitting in the dark. In his tower. Unaccompanied. “Why the fuck are you just sitting here? Shouldn’t you be with Thor?”

“I’m not just sitting here,” Loki picks up the item in his lap and Tony gets ready to fight. But it’s just… a book?

Loki shrugs, the blanket wrapped around him shifting over his shoulders. “Thor told the spirit in the ceiling to watch me. I’m to go directly to his rooms once I’m done.”

“FRIDAY?” Tony asks. “Is this true?”

“Yes,” FRIDAY says from the ceiling. “Mr. Odinson has given me strict instructions for his brother.”

Privately, Tony wishes that Thor would have spoken to the rest of them before giving Loki anything resembling free reign. But, for the moment, there’s nothing he can do about that.

Loki rolls his eyes at FRIDAY’s comments. “Worry not, I’m just reading.”

“That’s a lot of books.” Tony eyes the pile on Loki’s right. Evidently, Loki raided Steve’s bookshelf.

Loki shrugs. “I’ve already read those. I’m working on these ones now.” He nods towards the other, slightly smaller, pile.

“Are you planning on sleeping tonight?” Tony isn’t quite sure why he asked that. He doesn’t particularly care. Loki isn’t Peter — Tony doesn’t actually like this teenager.

“I don’t know, are you?” Loki asks, smirking up at him behind The Crucible.

“Touché.” Tony looks at the stack of books again. “Did you seriously read all of these tonight?”

Loki shrugs. “I technically started after dinner. But yes, I suppose so,”

“Anything interesting?” Tony asks, kicking himself for not just leaving when he had the chance. He doesn’t like small talk at the best of times, and this definitely doesn’t count as the best of times.

“Lots of interesting concepts,” Loki sighs. “No new favorites, I’m afraid. Though The Crucible is shaping up to be quite interesting.” Loki looks up at him, disapproval obvious. “Have you noticed that women are treated horribly in most of these books? Also, the books you have are from such a narrow time frame that I’m still missing anything from the early-1800s to the early 1950s. Frankly, it’s a little disappointing.”

“Oh, so you’re a literary critic now.” Tony means it as a joke. But Loki hunches in on himself in a way that’s far too reminiscent of Peter whenever Tony sounds even slightly critical of him.

The sun is starting to rise, bathing the city in golden-pink light. Tony should go to bed, and advise Loki to do the same. Instead, Tony sighs and sits on the couch opposite from Loki.

“Critique away,” Tony says. He pretends not to notice the way Loki’s face lights up before he schools it back to his normal expression.

Loki looks down at the book in his hands, closes it gently, and puts it aside. He looks small and young and hopeful and Tony regrets every decision he has ever made.

Hours later, when the rest of the Avengers start waking up, Steve walks into the common area to find Loki and Tony discussing Pride and Prejudice quite animatedly.

“But that’s the point!” Loki says, rolling his eyes. “It’s in the title. They are both prejudiced towards each other due to their first interactions. Seriously, it’s simple reading comprehension.”

“I don’t know,” Tony shrugs. “Darcy just didn’t seem like that bad of a guy to me.”

“He asked her to marry him while demeaning her family!” Loki glares at Tony, who does not seem the least bit sorry.

“Are you two hosting a book club?” Steve asks, eying the piles around Loki, as well as the half-dozen books open and spread out the carpet. “Also, are those my books?”

“I’m planning on putting them back,” Loki says. “Also, could you read less boring books, please?”

Tony starts laughing, Loki looks completely serious, and Steve just turns around and walks into the kitchen. He can deal with whatever this is later.

Chapter Text

“Loki, are you coming to lunch?” Thor asks.

“I’m in the middle of a chapter, Thor,” Loki sighs.

“It’s rude to ignore our friends!” Thor is so very loud, and Loki’s head throbs.

“Your friends, Thor.”

Loki can feel the Avengers watching them, which is rather rude. Family disagreements are supposed to stay in the family. But there’s nothing he can do about that now.

Begrudgingly, Loki puts the book aside and stands up. He sways and immediately sits back down.

“Give me a second.” His vision has gone fuzzy and does not seem to be clearing. “I’ll be right there.”

He breathes in for a minute then gingerly makes his way to the table. Thor passes him food but he doesn’t even try to pick at it. His nausea rises up and it’s all he can do to not throw up.

“What is this, a hunger strike?” Tony jokes. Loki just blinks at him.

Tony has never seen Loki pass up a chance to make a witty retort. “Seriously, kid, are you okay?”

Loki cocks his head to the side. They have to know why he’s acting like this? Thor must have told them.

He turns to Thor. His voice is soft, weak even, but it carries. “They don’t know?”

Thor has the grace to look a little ashamed. “I didn’t think it was important.” At the rest of the Avengers’ looks, he explains. “The cuffs make Loki sick. But worry not, he can endure it!”

Tony remembers how Loki flinched when he put the cuffs on before the physical. And how he fainted during his blood drawing. Across the table, outrage flickers across Steve’s face.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Steve asks, voice terse.

Thor just looks confused. “I thought it mattered little? He is a prisoner, is he not?”

Loki usually loves confrontations — from an academic point of view, that is. He likes gauging who is siding with who, the small details that win or lose an argument. But he feels so terrible, and the quiet darkness is so inviting, that the most he can do is keep from passing out.

“We don’t torture people,” Steve grits out. “These cuffs? They were meant to be a precaution, Thor, not a punishment. Otherwise we’re no better than the people we fight against.”

“Do you even care about your brother?” Tony asks. Which, yeah, he probably shouldn’t have said. But when has Tony let something like that stop him. But Tony knows what it’s like to be young and painfully smart and ignored.

“Of course I do!” Thor bangs his fist against the table and Loki twitches in his seat, too tired to suppress the flinch.

“Loki,” Steve asks, voice gentle. “Why didn’t you tell us you were hurt?”

Loki scoffs, his bloodshot eyes meeting Steve’s. “And you would have believed me?”

Steve looks away. Loki smiles grimly — that’s what he thought.

A realization comes to Tony. “That’s why you wanted to stay in the cell?” He asks. “Because it doesn’t cut you off from your magic?”

Loki does not even bother to correct him. It’s seidr, not magic, thank you very much. He just nods tersely.

“How long does it take for the cuffs to start hurting?” Tony asks. He didn’t put it together soon enough, and he feels bad about that. But if he’s good at one thing, it’s finding solutions to bad situations.

Loki shrugs. “A chill sets in pretty quickly. But all the rest of the symptoms usually start after a couple days.”

Clint notices the “usually,” which seems to imply that he’s been in these cuffs for multiple days before. He files it away but doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t particularly care about Loki’s wellbeing. It’s petty, yes, but he thinks he deserves some pettiness in this situation.

Tony nods slowly. “If we used the cell twice a week instead of the cuffs, would that help? We can spare enough time for that.”

Loki nods slightly. He’ll still feel weak and cold — but it’s better than nothing. And Loki has long ago learned not to push his luck.

“Do you want to go right now?” Tony asks. Loki nods again.

Natasha pushes herself away from the table. “I can watch him.”

“I really don’t mind,” Tony says.

Natasha stares him down. “I can watch him.”

Natasha leads Loki back to the cell in silence. Loki doesn’t mind that she glares at him like she wants to take him apart. Because the second she takes the cuffs off and locks the cell door, Loki can feel his seidr humming underneath his skin again. His headache recedes and he summons a single knife, feeling its comforting weight in his hand, before sending it back.

Natasha’s still watching him. “Was that a threat?” She asks.

“No,” Loki sighs. “I was just checking.”

“I know you think you’re very clever,” she says.

Loki blinks at her. “I am very clever.”

Natasha steps closer to the glass until Loki takes a step back to keep some space between them. Loki knows that she’s trying to intimidate him. He also knows that it’s working.

“You put one foot out of line, you even fucking think about it, and this mewling quim will make sure it’s the last thing you ever do.”

Loki flushes. “Who called you that… name?” He asks. “Was it Thor? Because our mother raised us better than that.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow. “You did.”

Loki’s eyes go wide. “Oh.” He swallows harshly. “That was a crude thing for me to say to you and I sincerely apologize.”

Natasha doesn’t acknowledge Loki again. Instead, she sits down and takes apart her gun then puts it together again. Over and over. The rhythmic sound is probably meant to be a threat, but that’s nothing new. Loki lets it lull him to sleep.

Chapter Text

Loki’s reading in the living room with a blanket wrapped around him, his new de facto position. New books showed up a couple days ago — mostly adventure and fantasy novels. Tony winked at Loki next time he passed by and saw Loki surrounded by the new books.

He’s in the middle of The Count of Monte Cristo, which is unfortunately sexist but has an amazingly intricate revenge plot, when the elevator opens and Loki looks up. He’s learned to avoid Clint and the woman — Natasha — whenever he can. He doesn’t exactly want to talk to Thor, especially after yesterday. He wouldn’t mind any of the others, though. But the person who walks through the door isn’t someone Loki knows.

He’s a boy, a teenager, with floppy brown hair and a hesitant smile. The two of them stare at each other for a while.

“Hello,” Loki says after a minute, putting his book aside. “Who might you be?”

“I’m Peter,” the boy says. He stares at Loki like he’s trying to figure out a puzzle. Loki sees the exact moment the pieces snap into place. “You’re Loki! You tried to take over the city!”

Loki shrugs. “People keep telling me that.”

Peter looks very confused, so Loki takes pity on him. “Last I remember, it was the early 1800s. I don’t think I’m the same Loki who destroyed your city.” Loki sighs and holds up his wrists, showing the cuffs. “And even if I was, I can’t hurt you. Worry not.”

Loki looks away from Peter, digging his nails into the palm of his hand.

“Okay,” Peter says brightly. He sits down across from Loki. “Promise you won’t bite?”

Loki smiles softly. “Only if necessary.” Peter smiles back.

“Have you seen Mr. Stark?” Peter asks. “I’m supposed to be working with him today, but he usually meets me here before going to the lab.”

Loki shrugs. “I haven’t seen him since breakfast.” Loki had sat through an extremely painful lunch with Thor, who kept staring at Loki with an odd half-sad half-happy look on his face. And of course, since he isn’t allowed near sharp objects, Thor cut up his food for him as if he were a child. But he hadn’t seen Tony — or any of the other Avengers — all day.

“He must be busy then,” Peter says. “I wouldn’t want to bother him.”

Tony looks up from his work, feeling like something’s missing. “Wasn’t Peter supposed to come over?” He says, both to himself and FRIDAY.

“He has,” FRIDAY replies. “You usually meet him in the living room. He’s been with Loki while he waits for you.”

“Shit,” says Tony. He knew he never should have let his guard down around Loki. But he seemed so young and so helpless, and now he’s alone with Peter. And Tony will be damned if Peter gets hurt under his watch, ever again.

Tony races upstairs, repulsors at the ready. He bursts into the living room, fully ready for Loki to be doing something terrible.

Instead, the two teenagers are laughing. Peter is gesturing wildly with his hands and Loki looks less tense than Tony has ever seen him.

“Hi Mr. Stark!” Peter says brightly. “I was just telling Loki about the time Ned and I accidentally changed the billboards at Times Square.”

Peter smiles at Tony, bright and happy and completely unharmed. Peter doesn’t seem to notice the way Loki already folded back into himself, face schooled back into a neutral expression.

“Come on, kid,” Tony says to Peter. Tony tries to ignore the obvious sadness that crosses Loki’s face. “We’re gonna be a little short on time today.” Tony looks at Loki again, who is trying very hard to look aloof. “Next time, come a bit earlier so you can bug Loki and still have time in the lab.”

“Sounds good!” Peter says as he bounds over to where Tony’s standing. Loki looks confused but also a little pleased. Tony tells himself he did it for Peter, not Loki. (Tony knows he’s never been a good liar.)

Chapter Text

“Spirit, do you know where Thor is?” Loki asks. The headache is back, sooner than he anticipated, and if he’s lucky Thor will convince his friends to put him back in the cell sooner rather than later.

If Loki wasn’t so worn down, he might even think it funny that he was asking to be caged. Loki is made of wanderlust, he always has been, and he usually fights with everything he has to keep from being stuck in one place. But Loki is dreadfully tired and sleep will do nothing to fix it.

“Mr. Odinson is sparring in the gym,” FRIDAY says.

“Am I allowed there?” Loki asks, the question chafing.

“It is designated as a common area. I will lead the way,” FRIDAY says.

Maybe, if Loki weren’t so tired, he would consider that gyms and armories usually exist relatively close to each other. If he weren’t so tired, he would question whether this is a trap, the benefits versus the disadvantages. He would question whether a “designation” was the same as an explicit invitation or something the Avengers forgot to consider.

But Loki is tired and falling apart, so Loki doesn’t consider those things. Instead, Loki follows FRIDAY’s path to the gym’s entrance.

Clint wishes he was on a mission with Nat. Clint wishes he was at the farm. Clint wishes Loki wasn’t in the Tower. But Clint doesn’t usually get what he wishes for, and settles for the soothing rhythm of nocking an arrow and letting it fly.

He sees someone out of the corner of his eye. He nocks another arrow.

“I told y’all to leave me alone,” he says. When the person doesn’t say anything, he turns and looks.

Clint expected Steve, or Tony maybe. (Not Nat, because she both knows better and he wouldn’t have seen her coming.) He isn’t expecting Loki. He tells himself that’s why he does what he does.

It all happens in the space of a couple seconds, really. Clint lets the arrow fly. It hits Loki in his side and he crumples. Here’s the thing: Clint doesn’t like Loki. Clint hates him, actually. But that doesn’t change the fact that curled up like that, Loki looks so damn young.

Loki doesn’t even scream.

“FRIDAY,” Clint says, fighting the shake in his voice. “Notify Banner. And the others too, I guess. But maybe make sure Banner gets here first.” Clint thinks of how pissed Thor is going to be. “Shit.”

“And you.” He kneels down next to Loki, putting pressure on the wound with his hand too. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Loki glares at him weakly, hand pressed into his side already coated with blood. “FRIDAY said Thor was down here. I wanted to talk to him.”

Clint doesn’t get to respond because Bruce walks through the doors. His eyes widen when he sees Loki on the floor and he rushes over.

“What happened?” He demands.

Clint runs his (non-bloody) hand over his face. “I fucked up.”

“I agree,” Bruce says. Then, to Loki: “Put pressure on the wound. Don’t pull the arrow out.”

Loki laughs harshly. “I’m not stupid. I’ve been on battlefields before.”

Once Loki has been brought to the Med Bay and the surveillance video of the incident watched, they have a group meeting. The Avengers seem to be doing that a lot, lately.

“Why did you take his cuffs off?” Natasha asks Bruce.

“Because to heal without any long term damage, he’s going to need to access his seidr.” Bruce takes a deep breath, the tinge of green receding. He’s never seen Loki this beaten up, and they fled a planet together. “He’s shackled down with cuffs that even Cap can’t break. It will be fine.”

“What if he attacks you?” Natasha asks.

“I think the other guy can deal with Loki.” Bruce also thinks the Avengers severely misunderstand Loki. Yes, he could try to hurt Bruce, but why would he? Weak as he is, he can’t escape. And Bruce is actively helping him.

“Why was he even down there?” Tony asks. “He’s only allowed on Thor’s floor and the common floor.”

“The gym is categorized as a common floor in my system,” FRIDAY intones from the ceiling. “He asked where his brother was.”

“Damn it,” Tony says.

Steve looks stoic. “I think we should leave him in the vibranium cuffs until he heals fully. Then we can consider the cuffs again, and update where he’s allowed to go.”

“You can’t seriously be considering that? He’s getting exactly what he wanted!” Clint says. He feels guilty for shooting Loki, sure, but he doesn’t see why that should be an excuse for cutting Loki any slack.

“Barton is right,” Thor says. “My brother can walk the roots of Yggdrasil. He shouldn’t be given such access to his seidr.”

“Fine,” Steve says. “We will let him heal tonight and tomorrow, which is non negotiable. Afterwards, we will come to you for advice on how to manage his magic.” Steve raises an eyebrow. “Does that work for you?” He asks in a voice that says it better work for Thor.

Thor nods tersely.

“Okay, does anyone have anything else to say?” Steve asks. The Avengers all shake their heads. “Then I think we’re done here.”

Steve meets Clint’s eyes once everyone else has left.

“I’ve watched the tape,” Steve says. “You’re fine. You can be placed on administrative leave, if you want. Take a break.”

“Are you benching me?”

“No.” Steve shakes his head. “This was a lot to put on you. I made a hard call and it might have been the wrong one. If you need time, I can give you time.”

“I am not compromised,” Clint snaps.

Steve looks at Clint sadly. “I never said you were.”

“I’m staying. That’s final.” Clint says.

“Okay,” Steve says. “I understand.”

When they think over the day, later, Steve will consider how Loki paled when the arrow hit but didn’t scream. Bruce will consider how instinctive his reaction was, putting pressure on the wound, leaving the arrow in. Tony will consider the way he gritted his teeth and bared it, like he had been waiting for the other shoe to drop. They start having some serious questions about Asgard.

Chapter Text

Loki wakes up in the Med Bay with a killer headache. Which is odd, since he can feel the soft hum of his seidr. The headache must not be from the cuffs, then?

A searing pain runs up his left side. He remembers the last couple hours and the headache makes a bit more sense. The seidr, not so much.

Loki reaches for his side, hoping to gauge the damage. But he can’t move. Instead of the seidr-suppressant cuffs, they have him bound down to the table by his wrists and ankles. Loki remembers a cave and a snake with dripping venom, gets lost in the terrible memory for longer than he’d like to admit. But he pushes it away. From what he’s gathered, Rogers has some strong opinions on torture, and Rogers seems to be in charge.

Loki wishes he had more seidr than just scraps. He’s grateful for his fast healing, of course, but with more seidr he could walk away from here. He could go to one of the other realms, maybe even travel beyond the Nine. He could even shift into another form, use an alias, and see how London’s doing.

But he doesn’t have enough seidr for that. He doesn’t even have enough seidr to calm his headache.

Loki is good at being alone. He’s good at closing himself off so nobody can hurt him. (Loki wants his mom desperately.)

“Are the meds working properly?” Bruce asks. “I gave you the same stuff I usually give to Thor, just a lower dose.”

Loki, who had barely noticed Banner come into the room, figures that means the medicine is working. He nods weakly.

“I know you,” Bruce says, fiddling with the machines in the room. “Knew, I guess.”

“I’m not really in the mood to be told how horrible of a person I am, thanks,” Loki says with as much snark as he can muster.

“Besides what happened on Earth, you seem like a bit of an asshole.” Bruce shrugs. “But not a bad person.”

“Wow, thanks,” Loki deadpans. “How do you even know me, if the other Avengers don’t?”

“That’s kind of a long story,” Bruce says.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Loki responds.

“Okay,” Bruce takes a deep breath. “A long time ago, I took a serum. And sometimes I turn into a big green monster called the Hulk. I was on Sakaar for a couple years, kind of stuck being the Hulk. You were there before Thor, but I’m not sure how. Long story short, we found a Valkyrie —”

Loki cuts him off, eyes wide. “Like, a real life Valkyrie? They died before Thor and I were born.”

“Yeah, a real Valkyrie. Her name’s Brunnhilde and you kind of hate each other.”

Loki smiles sadly. “Of course.”

“So, long story short, we got off Sakaar and then had to save Asgard from your sister.”

Loki laughs a little. “We don’t have a sister.”

“You did,” Bruce says. “Your father locked her up and pretended she never existed.”

Loki nods pensively. “That sounds about right.”

“She wanted revenge. To stop her, you burned down Asgard.”

Loki’s eyes widen. “I burned down Asgard and I don’t even get to remember it? That’s terribly unfair.”

It’s all Bruce can do to keep from laughing.

“How are you doing, kid?” Tony asks from the doorway. Loki tilts his head towards him and raises an eyebrow. Okay, maybe Tony should have considered that someone chained to a table might not be doing great.

“I’ve been better,” Loki sighs.

“Yeah,” Tony says, because he can’t really argue with that. “Would you appreciate a visitor?”

“If it’s Thor, the answer is no.” Loki smiles grimly. “My head is screaming and he talks too loudly.”

“What if it’s Peter?” Tony asks. “He was excited to see you again. He’s been pouting the entire time we were in the lab.”

A small smile flickers across Loki’s face. “Sure.”

Tony steps aside and Peter walks in.

“Hi!” He whispers to Loki. “Is this quiet enough?”

Loki nods.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Tony says. “Peter, please remember to get home by ten. Aunt May will actually kill me otherwise.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “Yes, Mr. Stark.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Tony?”

“I don’t know.” Peter shrugs. “Maybe a couple more times?”

Once Tony leaves, Peter turns to Loki. “Are you actually okay? I was really worried when I showed up and you weren’t reading!”

Loki nods. “I’ll survive. Really, ‘tis fine.”

Peter laughs quietly. “I’ve never actually heard someone say ‘‘tis’ in real life.”

Loki shrugs awkwardly on the table. “‘Tis a good word.”

Peter smiles. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

Loki stares at Peter. “I’m afraid I don’t know what that is.”

Peter’s face lights up. “Then you have definitely been missing out! FRIDAY, can we watch a movie?”

“Yes, Peter.” The AI answers. “Which would you like?”

“Star Wars!” Peter grins.

“Excuse me,” Loki says softly. “I would prefer a non-war movie, perhaps?”

“Oh.” Peter deflates a little. “That makes sense. We could watch Tangled? It’s a Disney movie.”

“I still don’t know what that is,” Loki shrugs. “But sure.”

Chapter Text

Alarms wake Loki up. His wound has mostly healed — more a dull ache than anything else. It strikes him as odd that they allowed him to use seidr to heal himself, but he wasn’t exactly going to argue against it.

He’s in cuffs still, keeping him on the table. They’re not suppressing his magic — they had bet on him being too weak to use his seidr for anything but healing, and they were right — just keeping him in place.

The alarm hasn’t stopped and Loki’s head is throbbing.

“Could the alarm be silenced, spirit?” Loki asks. (Loki knows the spirit’s name is FRIDAY, and that it isn’t really a spirit. But he thinks it’s funny.)

“I’m sorry,” FRIDAY says. “I have been hacked and the alarm is part of my coding.”

“Could you get one of the Avengers to override it, then?” Loki asks. He wants to go back to sleep but it is seeming less likely by the minute.

“I’m afraid all of the Avengers in the building have been compromised,” FRIDAY says.

Loki’s voice breaks. “Is Thor okay?”

“My cameras place him in the living room,” FRIDAY says. “He seems to be unconscious.”

Loki struggles against the cuffs holding him to the table. “Could you get me out of these cuffs?” Loki asks. From what he’s seen, this spirit seems to control most of the Midgardian’s strange technology.

“My programming informs me that I cannot release you unless you are in imminent danger.”

Loki shakes his head, trying uselessly to wriggle out of the cuffs. “Do you have protocol for when everyone who is supposed to help is compromised?”

“Contact the other Avengers or various personnel. But it appears that my network is down.”

“Then let me out of these cuffs. I can make sure everyone’s safe.” Loki can, and he will. But by the norns does he also want to feel the safety of cold steel in his hands, wind behind his back. “Also, I would argue that I’m in imminent danger, seeing as the Avengers are down and I’m chained to a table.”

“My programming might allow that.” FRIDAY hums. “Alright, Loki Odinson. The cuffs are disabled.”

Loki sits up, fighting back the wave of nausea. “Thank you, FRIDAY,” Loki says. “Please remind me not to get shot again.”

“Good luck, Odinson” is all the spirit says in response. Loki hops off the bed, bare feet against the tile, and runs.

As Loki runs, he flicks his wrists. His daggers spring into his hands — the cold metal grounding him. That’s the most seidr he can spare at the moment. He needs to conserve his energy, keep from ripping his newly-healing wound open, and find Thor.

By the Norns, he hopes Thor is okay. Thor is a menace and an oaf and a horrible brother — but he’s Loki’s horrible brother. And because Loki is a fool, he loves Thor.

There’s a man standing in the hallway. A man with a stringy long hair and a metal arm and a muzzle covering most of his face and a large gun — gun is what Thor called the weapon Lady Natasha carried, right? — held in his hand. There is blood on his shoes.

Loki grips his knives tighter. If he were at full power, he could confuse the man — make doubles out of illusions, use his “cowardly tricks” to take him down. As it is, Loki hopes he’s agile enough to survive this. If he could find and free Thor’s friends, they might be able to help. If, that little voice inside him asks, if they are even still alive. If Thor is even still alive. Loki shakes his head. They have to be alright, and Loki will free them. But until then, he seems to be on his own.

“I really must do everything myself,” Loki mutters. “Figures.”

The man hasn’t moved. He stares at Loki with cold blue eyes. “You are not a mission target.”

Loki cocks his head. “I should hope not. What was your mission?”

“The Asset cannot tell you his mission.” The man says.

“The Asset?” Loki repeats. “Are you not a person?”

The man — The Asset — twitches at that. Loki has an idea, and it’s a risky one, but who says that Thor’s the only one allowed to take stupid risks. Loki is alone and weak and has no backup — anything that isn’t fighting is worth a try.

“I am the Avenger’s prisoner,” Loki says, staying in the shadows. “There is no love lost between me and them. You would not still be here were your mission successful. What do you still need?”

The man — Loki feels odd calling him The Asset — shifts. He is not a normal soldier — Loki knows how people act when they’re following orders. And he knows what they look like when orders are all they have left, their only lifeline in a world they don’t understand. This man, he looks like neither. It’s not that he doesn’t seem like he wants to follow orders — it’s that it feels like there’s nothing there. No loyal soldier, no bloodthirsty fighter. He seems empty, deliberately hollowed out.

Loki has seen war. Loki has seen war many, many times. Loki has never seen anything like this.

“The Vision,” the man says and the name rings a faint bell. “I need to capture The Vision and use him to control the Avengers.”

Control? Loki remembers the strange discussion about infinity stones and other-Loki’s scepter and an android. The Avengers must be alive then, to be controlled. But with this man in the way, this empty soldier, Loki has no way to help them. To help Thor.

“The Vision does not live in the Tower anymore,” he says, walking slowly towards the man. His knives slide back up his sleeves, his hands up to indicate peace. “I have been here for nigh on a month and have not seen him.”

The man looks confused. Loki keeps his voice calm. “Do you have backup mission parameters?” He asks.

The man blinks at him. “The Asset must complete the mission. The Asset cannot fail.”

The man reminds Loki of the Destroyer. But the Destroyer is metal and magic, armor able to follow commands. This man is flesh and bone.

“You should go,” Loki says, taking a couple more steps forward in the shadows. He feels like he’s floating — breathing in that strange sense of calm before everything goes wrong, soon to be followed by shaking with adrenaline. Loki can worry about that later. “The mission cannot be completed today.”

The man shakes his head, like he’s trying to recalibrate himself. Loki does not feel pity often — pity means he can’t help with the problem, and therefore there is no reason to worry about it. He doesn’t pity starving children — he buys them food. He doesn’t pity fallen soldiers — he says the rites and hopes their souls make it to Valhalla. Loki pities this man.

“If I can’t complete the mission, I must neutralize the witnesses.” The man sounds shaky, desperate. Loki feels pity, yes, but he isn’t going to go down without a fight.

Loki stumbles into the man, ignoring the way the man’s body tenses. Throwing the man off balance and off guard, Loki wrenches the gun out of his grip and throws it. He still doesn’t have much of a chance, but it is somewhat better. He wants his seidr. He wants the feeling of power flooding through his veins. He wants his head to stop spinning.

It doesn’t matter what he wants. He has two daggers — he could summon more, but that is power he does not have right now. He has a smart tongue and a steady hand and the knowledge of how to kill a man.

Loki does not particularly want to kill a man.

He stabs his dagger towards the man’s ribs. The man deflects it with the metal arm. Loki slices and stabs and flits around the man, taking as many hits as he lands.

Then Loki makes a mistake. His side hurts and he’s tired and he stumbles. The man grabs his neck with the metal arm, picking him up and off the ground. Loki coughs and struggles and kicks. Loki is going to die. The emergency alarms are still blaring and Loki is so tired and the lights are flashing in his face and he just wants a goddamn nap.

“You’re just a kid.” The man says. His voice is still rough with disuse, cracking at the seams. But he sounds just a smidge closer to human. Loki doesn’t say anything. Loki can’t say anything, coughing and gasping as he is.

The man releases Loki onto the ground into a mess of sprawled limbs. Loki has the funny, faraway feeling that he is going to have to spend more time in the Med Bay. The man looks down at him.

“The Asset must reconsider the mission.” Loki can’t tell if the man is trying to convince himself or Loki of this. “The Asset received bad information. Nobody was home at the Tower.” The man sounds almost scared. “The Asset’s handlers will not be pleased.”

And then the man is gone. All Loki wants to do is sleep. Even lying on the floor to sleep wouldn’t be that bad, seeing as he isn’t chained down to it.

But he drags himself up. His body is on fire, and Loki can feel slick blood coating his left side.

He stumbles into the living room, eying the couches forlornly. No time for that now. The Avengers are tied up throughout the room in rather complicated knots. They’re all awake though, if a bit dazed. Everyone but Thor.

Loki is sure he’s a sight to behold. He’s still coughing up his lungs from almost being strangled to death and he’s trailing blood behind him. He also isn’t supposed to be out of the Med Bay, but when has Loki ever let rules stop him.

(The answer is very rarely. Unless those rules were instituted by his mother, because Loki firmly believes she i̶s̶ was the only other competent person on Asgard.)

Loki brings the daggers out from his sleeves. Steve and Tony watch him warily. Natasha and Clint look murderous. Bruce just looks tired. Loki agrees with Bruce in that respect, and cuts his ropes first.

Handing Bruce his other dagger, Loki rushes to Thor. Thor, who still isn’t awake and has red staining his hairline. Loki loves his brother. Loki hates his brother. Loki cannot let him die.

Logically, Loki thinks it likely that Thor will be fine (in part, because of that thick skull of his). But the calm from earlier is gone, replaced with shaking hands and shakier nerves. And because Loki is young and scared and really fucking tired, he channels magic he doesn’t have into healing Thor.

He hears shouting — at him, perhaps? — and the hum of his seidr in the air. The air around him sparkles green, Thor’s skin knits back together, and then everything goes black.

Far away, in an ill-equipped bunker that escaped the HYDRA’s decimation, the Winter Soldier repeats a question in his head. Am I a person?

Chapter Text

Loki swims upwards through the fog clouding his brain. When he opens his eyes, the lights are far too bright. He winces and tries to pull himself up by his elbows. His arms follow his instructions — he’s not chained down, then — but his side burns and he collapses back down.

“I see you’re deciding to rejoin the land of the living,” Tony says, arms crossed. “You gave Thor quite a scare.”

“Good to know,” Loki mutters, prompting a coughing fit. Tony hands him a glass of water, which takes altogether too much strength for Loki to hold up. Distantly, Loki considers his options for fighting his way out, if it proves necessary. With no weapons — neither of his daggers are in sight — and not enough seidr to do anything, he is relatively defenseless.

He is, however, neither chained down nor wearing those terrible cuffs. Either the Avengers have had a change of heart, which he considers unlikely, or his near-death caused them to cut him a little slack. And near-death is not an exaggeration: healing is difficult work, not to be done when one is already running dry. And Loki was so far past dry — with the overuse of the cuffs and the wound in his side, Loki should have been under strict bedrest. He should not have been stopping empty soldiers from killing the people imprisoning him.

Speaking of imprisonment… Stark is not wearing his armor. Loki knows that Stark’s armor does not take long to manifest — but still, he always makes sure to a least have a repulser around Loki. While Loki mulls this over, Thor runs into the room.

“Loki!” He yells.

Loki winces. “Would it kill you to speak quietly?” He tries to snap, but his voice comes out paper thin.

“Sorry,” Thor whispers. (Which is relatively similar to a normal speaking voice.) “I am overjoyed that you’re awake.”

Loki’s entire body hurts. He can feel his seidr — but it’s all focusing inward on healing himself. He’s not cold anymore, not like when the cuffs were on, but he’s still tired. “That makes one of us.”

“Brother,” Thor starts, before looking away. “I want you to know that I’m proud of you.”

“Oh,” Loki says. Neither brother says anything for a long time.

“I shall let you rest!” Thor says, turning to go. He misses the tear that streaks down Loki’s cheek.

“It was the Winter Soldier,” Natasha says, pausing the surveillance footage on a frame covered in shadows, the soldier looking more monster than man. “He trained me. Shot me, once.”

“I thought we cleared out HYDRA,” Steve sighs. “I died to stop the Nazis. But they keep coming back.”

“Fascists have a way of doing that,” Bruce says. “There will always be someone who cares more about power than people.”

“What I want to know,” Clint stabs one of Loki’s knives into the table. “Is why the Winter Soldier had the exact same plan as Loki did during the Battle of New York.”

“Not quite the same plan,” Steve sighs.

“You have to acknowledge that it’s suspicious, though!” Clint says.

“I’m not sure about that,” Steve says. “If Loki was in on the plan, he could have gone with the soldier. And he ripped his wounds back open — I don’t think that he’d do that on purpose.”

“You underestimate my brother,” Thor says.

“Maybe,” Steve admits. “But the logs show that the first thing Loki did was asking FRIDAY about Thor. And he wouldn’t have needed to convince FRIDAY to let him go if the Winter Soldier could have come and freed him minutes later.”

Natasha sighs. “I hate to agree with Steve on this, but I think this doesn’t fit Loki’s MO. How would he know the Winter Soldier in the first place? And the conversation between them didn’t seem planned.”

“I think,” Bruce says slowly. “That when we cleared HYDRA out of SHIELD, we missed a few bases. The people who are left are probably desperate to reclaim the glory they think they deserve, or whatever people like that care about. Thus, copying an invasion that failed. And giving the Winter Soldier bad information.”

“You might be right about that,” Natasha says, an odd look on her face. “I’ll see if I can find any more information about the Winter Soldier or any remaining HYDRA bases.”

“You know how long it’ll take for you to feel better?” Steve asks.

Loki still doesn’t trust him — he’s too kind, too sincere. Nobody has treated Loki kindly in a long time. But Loki knows that Steve’s one of the main reasons that he’s not currently in those cuffs, so he plays the few cards he has. And he isn’t even lying.

“I don’t know,” Loki says. “Seidr is like a muscle. Without having used it for a month, it’s already atrophied.” Loki coughs a little. “Seidr is woven into my very being. So when I healed Thor, I accidentally gave him more than I could do safely. It’s probably going to take a while.”

By this, Loki means please by the Norns don’t put me in those cuffs again. I think I’d die. I’d rather die.

Steve looks sympathetic. “Anything we can do to help you heal faster?”

“Giving me back my knives,” Loki half-jokes. “Really, I’d have to ask moth—” Loki freezes, face falling.

“Never mind.” He shakes his head desperately, his voice too small. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“You miss her,” Steve says softly. “That’s perfectly normal.”

“Normal?” Loki laughs that laugh of his, the one with an edge so sharp it could take the place of his knives. “Nothing about learning that everyone I’ve ever known is dead is normal. That mother is…”

Loki trails off. He knows it’s true, he just can’t say it. He’s known for a month. He feels like a terrible son.

“I suppose there was a funeral,” Loki says, picking at his palm. “Thor got to grieve. But for me, they’re just gone. I didn’t love Asgard. But I never wanted this.”

Steve sighs. He hadn’t planned on baring his soul to Loki — but he has never been able to ignore injustice, even when he was 5’3” and asthmatic.

“I know what you’re going through,” Steve tells Loki. At Loki’s raised eyebrow, he continues: “Not with the magic, of course. But with grief.”

Loki hunches in a little at the word “grief.” There’s something powerful about giving it a name.

“Do you know about Captain America?” Steve asks. It’s a long story, and he’s not quite sure where to start.

“Talking about yourself in the third person, now?” Loki jokes weakly.

“I guess.” Steve shrugs. “Cap was always more mindset than person. We were at war, you see, and morale was low.”

Loki nods, like war is something he understands. Steve hurts for him.

“I was a dancing monkey — I pretended to punch Hitler and gave rousing speeches.” Steve shrugs.

“What does this have to do with me?” Loki asks, and Steve can see him putting his walls back up.

“Just listen,” Steve says. “You like stories, right?”

Loki nods begrudgingly.

“I’m not actually a Captain — I mean, I think I was given an honorary title after I died, but we’re not there yet. I was a glorified propaganda poster. Then they finally let me fight.” Steve smiles wistfully, caught up in the memories. “We were called the Howling Commandos. They were my men and we were damn good at what we did.” Steve’s voice breaks. He can feel Loki’s eyes on him, but he’s too lost in his thoughts to meet his gaze. “My best friend, Bucky, was with me. We grew up together. He died. A mission later, I crashed my plane into the Atlantic.”

Loki interjects, because of course this is the part that confuses him. “But Midgardians aren’t able to survive something like that.”

“The experiments changed me. I didn’t think I would survive, but I did. They pulled me out of the ice decades later.” Steve sighs heavily. He’s only in his mid twenties but he feels so very old. “When I went under, the world was at war. I wake up, they say we won. They didn't say what we lost.”

“Oh,” Loki says, looking down. “Was there anyone from your old life left?” Loki sounds like he’s pleading. Steve knows Loki’s asking as much for himself as for Steve’s benefit.

“Sort of,” Steve says. “The few who were still around had kids and grandkids. They had full lives, without me, and I don’t begrudge them that happiness. I wish I could have been there, but I’m glad they thrived.”

Loki twists the sheets in his hands. “I don’t know what to do,” he says, sounding as young as Steve has ever heard him.

“We have to keep living,” Steve says. “That’s what they’d want.”

“Does it ever stop hurting?” Loki’s voice breaks.

Steve smiles sadly. “I’ll let you know when I figure out the answer myself.”

Chapter Text

Once Loki’s side heals (again), he is treated to a very long speech about not hurting anyone and still being under surveillance. But then they just… keep the cuffs off. Loki doesn’t quite understand why, but he isn’t going to question it. Better they think as little about him as possible.

Loki looks up when the elevator dings. He smiles when Peter comes through the doors but before he can say anything, Peter stumbles forward. Loki scrambles to catch him.

“Oh, you’re not wearing cuffs,” Peter slurs. “That’s cool.”

“Are you alright?” Loki asks.

“I’ll be fine,” Peter says. “Just a flesh wound.”

“What?” Loki looks past Peter into the elevator. There are drops of blood on the floor. “By the Norns, Peter, what happened?”

“It’s a secret,” Peter whispers. He promptly passes out.

“Boss is on his way,” FRIDAY intones from the ceiling.

Loki is too busy looking for the wound to respond. Peter’s leg is bleeding and Loki gathers up the scraps of seidr he has to try healing it.

Before he can start healing, Tony runs through the doors. He looks at Loki on the floor, Peter passed out and bleeding.

“What the fuck is going on here?” He snarls. Tony glares at Loki, prying Peter away from him. “What have you done?”

“I haven’t done anything!” Loki yells. “Why does everyone always assume that when bad things happen, it’s my fault.” And then, because Loki is scared and upset and really, really bad at shutting up, he snaps. “Maybe if you want Peter to be okay, you should fucking protect him better!”

Tony goes deadly silent. “You are going to stay in this goddamn room until I get back.” He picks Peter up, starts walking away. “I’ll deal with you later.”

Loki stays on his knees, staring at the drops of blood on the floor, for a very long time.

“What did he do to you?” Tony demands before Peter’s eyes are even fully open.

Peter sits up, stretching his arms. “It was normal Spider-Man stuff, I’m fine.”

“What?” Tony asks. “No, I meant Loki. He was doing something to you.”

Peter looks confused. “He didn’t do anything to me?” He shrugs. “Well, he kind of caught me when I fell out of the elevator, but otherwise he didn’t do anything.”

“Oh, shit.” Tony runs a hand over his face. “Okay, your leg has already started healing. I’ll put the alcohol and bandages next to you so you don’t have to walk to get them. I’ll be back up in a minute.”

“Okay,” Peter says slowly. “Is everything alright, Mr. Stark?”

Tony shakes his head, mouth set in a straight line. “It will be.”

Loki is not freaking out, thank you very much. It’s not like his singular friend collapsed half an hour ago and he hasn’t seen Peter or Stark since.

The book Loki had been reading lays open on the couch where he had placed it when Peter came in. Loki, finally picking himself up off the floor, grabs a blanket from the couch and wipes the blood off the floor. Then he sits with his back to the couch and waits.

“You’re still here,” is the first thing Tony says when he makes it to the living room. His heart is racing due to running from the Med Bay. “That’s good.”

Loki curls up on himself, glaring at Tony. “Where else would I go?”

Tony sighs. “Nowhere, I guess.”

Loki stares at him, not relaxing in the slightest.

“I owe you an apology, kid,” Tony says. “I fucked up.”

Loki glares at Tony. But he doesn’t say anything.

“Really, kid, don’t go quiet on me now.” Tony tries to joke. “Didn’t know that was possible.”

Loki looks like he wants to stab Tony. Unfortunately, he hasn’t been given back his fucking knives. (Loki knows that he could, theoretically, go grab some knives from the kitchen, now that he isn’t under as much constant surveillance. But it isn’t actually about stabbing Tony. It’s about his goddamn knives being taken away.)

But Loki doesn’t stab Tony, no matter how fun that would be. Instead, he asks one question. “Is Peter okay?”

“Oh,” Tony says, because he conveniently forgot that Loki wouldn’t know. “Yeah, he’s fine. He’ll be up and more annoying than ever in a couple days.”

“Good,” Loki nods. He stands up to go, before turning to look at Tony.

“I want you to know,” Loki says, very slowly. “That if Peter dies on your watch, I will have no qualms about making sure you join him.”

Tony just blinks slowly. He is only a little concerned that Loki just threatened him. That concern is outweighed by the relief that Peter has someone else willing to fight for him.

The Asset comes to the conclusion that he must have been a person once. But people aren’t weapons.

The Asset doesn’t fail. But The Asset usually isn’t given bad information in the first place.

The Asset pays attention, in between cryogenics. He knows that his current handlers are some of the only parts of HYDRA left. The rest of the organization is spread out so thin that the Handlers wouldn’t have any backups. There would be no more Handlers coming after him.

The Asset is tired of killing. But he’s willing to do it one more time. The Asset was once a person. He hopes he can be one again.

Chapter Text

“I really am sorry,” Tony says for what seems like the hundredth time. “I saw that Peter was hurt and I acted rashly. I really didn’t mean anything by it.”

“You might not have meant anything,” Loki snaps. “But you made it very clear where I stand.”

“Look, I don’t actually think that you’d hurt Peter.”

Loki shakes his head. “I think you did.”

Tony isn’t great at people, he never has been. But one thing he’s learned is if you sweeten the deal enough, people will let you get away with almost anything.

“Have I shown you the pool?” Tony asks. “We have a pool at the Tower. You and Peter could go swimming, if you want.”

“Oh, I’m allowed outside now?” Loki asks. Mother would tell him that holding grudges is unbecoming — but Loki is hurt. There was a moment yesterday when Loki genuinely thought Peter was going to die. (In the back of his mind, Loki considers the possibility that Peter is more than an intern. He has seen Midgardians do things they shouldn’t be capable of — perhaps Peter is one of them. Enhanced, Rogers had called it.)

Tony winces. “So, should I call Peter?”

“Fine,” Loki snaps. He wants to stay angry, to scream and rage at Tony. But he’d rather see Peter than be petty. (Though he quite enjoys being petty.)

Loki and Peter stand by the edge of the pool, sunlight reflecting off the perfectly blue water.

“You can swim, right?” Peter asks.

“Of course I can swim,” Loki says. “Why wouldn’t I —”

Loki isn’t able to finish his sentence because, thanks to Peter pushing him in, he is busy spluttering. He treads water, the t-shirt and shorts clinging to his skin.

“Stand back!” Peter says. Obligingly, Loki swims a little bit away.

Peter jumps in. When he comes up for air, Loki pushes as much water towards him as he can. Peter chokes and laughs and splashes Loki back. Revenge is sweet.

Look, Loki isn’t great about personal space. Having grown up with Thor and being extremely inquisitive, when Loki sees something interesting, he crowds it. Except in this case, it is Peter.

“What are those scars?” Loki stares at the mostly-faded scars on Peter’s torso. “Were you hurt in battle? Because these are very strange battle scars.”

“No,” Peter blushes. “It’s private.”

“Oh.” Loki leans back. “I apologize.”

Loki and Peter stand in the shallow water for a minute, neither of them speaking. Loki is about to apologize again when —

Peter sighs. “They’re from a surgery.”

“A surgery?” Loki sounds puzzled. “What caused such a strange injury?”

“Top surgery.” Peter sighs. “When I was younger, everyone thought I was a girl. But I’m a boy. So I had surgery so my body would match who I actually am.”

Loki stares at him. “That’s allowed?” He whispers.

Peter grits his teeth. “Just because your culture is homophobic does not mean that I shouldn’t be allowed to…”

Loki shakes his head. “No, this is wonderful.”

Peter looks up. Loki is smiling wider than Peter has ever seen him… her? Loki’s hair is a little bit longer, face a little softer. (Thankfully, she was wearing a t-shirt and swim shorts to begin with, claiming that she didn’t want sunburn.)

“How did you do that?” Peter asks, half awed and half jealous.

“I’m well versed in shifting my form,” Loki says. “But, this isn’t really the same. Usually, when I shift, I’m taking on a new skin. One that is obviously not mine. But I’ve always been able to shift between girl and boy without actually using any seidr.” She shrugs. “It’s just how I am.”

“Underoos, are you staying for dinner?” Tony asks.

“Yeah,” Peter says, toweling off. “I just have to call Aunt May to let her know.”

Loki wanders over. “Did I burn?” She asks Peter.

He looks at her. “You’re a little pink. I don’t think you burned though.”

Loki nods.

Tony squints at her. “That’s new.”

“Is there something you would like to say, Stark?” Loki asks, a challenge in her voice.

Tony shakes his head. “Nope. Not at all.” He walks away, calling behind him. “Dinner’s in 30!”

The Asset took the little red book with the codes that undid his mind with him, when he left. Days and states away, he watches it burn.

Chapter Text

Loki and Peter get to the table first. Loki’s hair is neatly braided around her head and, since she lacks any respectable clothes, she wears the t-shirt and sweatpants that she had when she woke up in the Med Bay. She sits up painfully straight and keeps her head high. She can do this.

Steve comes to the table next. He looks at Loki, who defiantly holds his gaze.

“You look nice,” he says.

Loki blinks a couple times. “Thank you?”

Steve shakes his head. “Don’t thank me for being a decent person. I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to express yourself.”

A haunted look comes over Loki’s face, but it’s gone just as quickly as it arrived. Loki opens her mouth to say something, when Tony and Thor come in.

“Brother!” Thor bellows, face falling when he sees her. “Must you do these tricks?”

Loki sighs heavily. “This is not a trick, Thor.” She shrugs. “Today is a girl day.”

“We’ve been over this,” Thor says. “You cannot keep doing things like this.”

Loki shakes her head, oddly proud that her hair is braided tightly enough that it doesn’t come loose. “No, Thor, we haven’t been over this. You talk at me and expect me to listen.”

Bruce stops in the doorway and looks around. “Am I interrupting something?” he asks.

“Yes,” Thor says. “No,” Loki says at the same time.

Everyone served themselves food in silence, piling shawarma and sides onto their plates.

“Did you two enjoy the pool?” Tony asks.

Peter nods enthusiastically. “It was so fun, Mr. Stark! Did you know that Loki can hold her breath for 5 minutes?”

“His,” Thor says.

“No,” Peter looks directly in Thor’s eyes. “Her.”

“Our parents didn’t raise an ergi!” Thor snarls. Loki twitches at that, and Peter has a sinking feeling that ergi is similar to a slur he’s heard before.

“Maybe,” Loki starts, staring at her food like it holds the secret to the universe. “That’s because Father didn’t bother to raise me at all.”

“Father was great to us!” Thor says. “You’ve just always been jealous of me”

Loki shakes her head. “He was great to you, Thor. If I recall correctly, he never had your lips sewn closed, did he?”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have back-talked a dignitary!” Thor says, ignorant to the way Steve gripped his silverware so hard they started to bend and how Bruce and Tony had gone pale.

“That man was an idiot and we all knew it!” Loki snaps. “You agreed with me, you were just too cowardly to say anything.”

“You should have known better!” Thor says.

“I was 500! I hadn’t even reached puberty yet.”

A chair screeches, and Bruce rushes out of the room looking a little green around the edges.

Thor sighs. “He may have been harsh, brother, but he was trying to teach you.”

Loki shakes her head. “You always make excuses for him.” She looks at him, trying to pretend her eyes aren’t pools of unshed tears. “Why do you never extend that courtesy to me?”

Steve had watched the entire exchange with slowly dawning horror on his face. He remembers being young and weak and realizing that people thought he was wrong for being the way that he was. Not just his disabilities, but who he loved, too. He doesn’t know how to say that to Loki, how to voice something that had been illegal for the first 27 years of his life.

Instead, he does what his mom always did. He pushes more food at Loki and tells her to eat.

Peter excuses himself early, saying his aunt probably wants him at home. Loki knows better, though. She had seen the way Peter’s face fell whenever Thor said something gross to her. She wonders if Thor had been a hero of Peter’s.

After dinner, Thor stalks off, probably to hit something in the gym. And it starts to rain.

Loki sits in the living room but doesn’t reach for a book. Instead, she sits on the floor and faces the windows, watching the lightning leaping across the sky.

“That sucked,” Tony says, lowering himself down next to her. “Didn’t know Point Break could be that intense.”

Loki doesn’t say anything, just continues staring at the downpour outside. She flinches at a lightning strike.

“Scared of lightning?” Tony asks, remembering the helicarrier so long ago.

Loki shrugs weakly. “Not overly fond of what comes next.”

“Thor wouldn’t actually hurt you,” Tony says with a surety he doesn’t quite feel.

“I think you severely overestimate me and underestimate him.” Loki looks pensive, drawn out. Like the color was drained from her over dinner.

“When we were little,” Loki says. “Thor would put on light shows for me. We would stand on the roof and he would make the sky sing.”

“He loves you,” Tony says. Tony knows a few things about dysfunctional relationships. “But that doesn’t mean he always knows what’s best for you.”

Loki doesn’t respond for a minute, tracing the lighting across the sky.

“He held me down,” she finally whispers.

“What?” Tony asks.

“While they sewed my mouth shut,” Loki says. “He held me down.”

Tony is very rarely stunned silent. He figures he can make an exception for this occasion.

“And the entire time,” Loki whispers, a single tear rolling down her cheek. “The entire time, he told me it would be over soon. That if I stopped struggling, it would hurt less.”

“Shit, kid,” Tony says. “I really don’t know how to respond to that.”

Loki curls into herself, still staring out the window. “What did I do to make him hate me so much?” She asks.

“Thor?” Tony asks.

Loki shakes her head. “The Allfather. I don’t know what I did.”

Tony shrugs, trying for his normal flippancy and failing miserably. “Sometimes dads just suck.”

Loki laughs, short and sharp. “Yeah,” she says. “That must be it.”

Chapter Text

When Loki makes it to breakfast the next morning, Steve is the only one awake. Loki’s hair is elaborately braided, dozens of tiny braids forming a lattice at the back of her head.

Loki’s holding herself defensively, like she doesn’t want to fight, but she will if she has to. Steve knows the look. So he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he passes her a plate and some waffles from the batch he just finished making.

“Thanks,” Loki says. She takes the strawberry jam from the center of the table and slathers it onto her waffles. Breakfast continues, quiet and calm, for 30 or so minutes.

The calm doesn’t last, of course. It never does. As Loki stands up to put the plate by the sink, Thor wanders into the kitchen. His face falls when he sees Loki.

“I cannot believe you are continuing this,” Thor says. His voice is sad and Loki bristles at it. “No warrior would act the way you do.”

Loki shrugs, gently putting her plate on the counter. “Maybe it has never occurred to you that I don’t want to be a warrior.” She smiles ruefully. “At least, not by your standards of one.”

Thor sighs. “Mother should never have spoilt you so.”

“If she spoiled me, maybe it’s because I was the only one who ever bothered to listen to her,” Loki says quietly. “You don’t even speak Vanir.”

Tony, who had just come to the kitchen to get some goddamn coffee, hears the fight. He stops in the doorway and watches.

“We’re not from Vanaheim, brother, we’re Asgardian!” Thor sounds almost sorrowful. Tony wonders what he missed.

Loki flinches at that. “Sister, right now. And we are half Vanir, or does mother’s heritage count for nothing?”

“You’re only saying that because being ergi is less frowned upon in Vanaheim,” Thor snaps.

“Don’t call me that!” Loki’s voice cracks. She knows that what she’s going to say next is at least half false. (Though that also makes it half true.) But Loki has always been good at aiming for where it hurts. “At least mother loved me.”

Thor reacts almost without thinking. His hand is in the air and, before anyone can react, he slaps Loki across the face. Her lip splits, blood running down it.

Steve moves then, standing between Thor and Loki, using his body as a shield.

Loki laughs, soft and sharp. “You reminded her of when she was stolen, Thor.” Loki smiles gruesomely. “You always were so violent.”

“She loved us,” Thor says. He’s staring at Steve like he’s trying to convince the both of them. “And she loved father.”

Loki shakes her head, pretending her eyes aren’t filled with tears. “She was a war bride, Thor. she was stolen and you never even bothered to learn her language.”

Thor stares at Steve for a long time, while blood drips down Loki’s face. Finally, he turns to leave, his face stormy. The second he’s gone, Loki sags back into a seat.

“Fuck,” Tony says.

“You okay?” Steve turns towards Loki. “I had no idea he was going to do that.”

“You clearly don’t know him that well,” Loki mumbles.

Steve shakes his head. “I am going to go yell at him after we make sure you’re alright.”

Steve grabs a paper towel and wets it in the sink. He presses it gently against Loki’s lip. Loki twitches a little bit, but otherwise holds still. Once Steve gets the blood off, he stands back.

“That’s definitely going to bruise,” Tony says. “Can you heal it? It looks like it hurts.”

Loki takes a deep breath. “In Vanaheim, scars are shameful. Scars mean failure, that somebody else landed a hit on them.” Loki shrugs. “In Asgard, scars mean you survive.”

Loki smiles then, something almost-scary but mostly sad. “Thor always wanted me to be more Asgardian.”

Loki tells herself she’s meditating. (Loki is definitely moping.)

Steve sits down next to her, wincing when he sees the bright red bruise outlining the side of her mouth.

“How are you holding up?” he asks. Loki just shrugs.

“I meant to give these back,” Steve says. He pulls two knives out of his pocket.

Loki brightens up. She takes the knives almost reverently, running her finger over the blades. Then, in the blink of an eye, they’re gone.

“What do you even do with them?” Steve asks. “When they disappear?”

“I have pocket dimensions that I send them to.” Loki shrugs. “I have them spread out all around the universe. It’s easier to summon things that are closer to begin with.”

“Interesting,” Steve nods. “Then why were you so upset about those particular knives. I assume you have more?”

Loki laughs at that. “Of course I have more.” Her smile falls a little. “My mother got me this set of knives for my 500th name day. Father had just given Thor Mjolnir. Mother had these specially made for me.”

Loki flicks her wrist and one of the knives pops back into her hand. Steve finds it odd that he doesn’t even react to weapons appearing and disappearing in front of him. Loki moves the blade side to side, so it catches the light. There are thousands of tiny etchings on the metal.

“She wove pretty much every rune into these knives.” Loki smiles sadly. “Protection and bravery, knowledge and luck. All to keep me safe.”

“She sounds like a lovely woman,” Steve says. He remembers his own mother, overworked and underpaid, constantly worried about Steve. Keeping him as safe and healthy as he could be, even after Da left. (Even before Da left, when the house was a whirlpool of bourbon and backhands.)

“She was,” Loki says, looking at herself in the knife’s reflection. “She was.”

The Asset thinks that part of being a person is having a name. When he bought coffee and some rations in a crappy gas station at the side of the highway, with money he had taken from his ex-Handlers, the cashier’s name was James. The name feels familiar — not quite right, but closer than The Asset. He starts calling himself James.

Chapter Text

“Here.” Tony holds a shiny piece of plastic out to Loki. “You’re going into the city to buy some new clothes. I would have ordered you some, but I’m not quite sure what you like.”

They both know that Tony could have bought enough clothes that Loki would statistically have to like some of it. But Loki appreciates the silent acceptance, and the silent trust. Though she’s been out of the cuffs for a while, free reign of the city is not something she expected.

“Peter’s going with you, though,” Tony says. “Don’t want you to get lost.”

“I don’t need a babysitter!” Loki says. She likes Peter, but still.

“You don’t even know how to navigate the city.”

“I could figure it out.” Loki pouts a little.

“Yes, I know you could.” Tony sighs, still holding the card out towards Loki. “But Peter never lets me buy him anything. So I was hoping you could also make sure he treats himself.”

“Fine,” Loki says. And then, though she hates admitting she doesn’t know something, she asks “What even are you handing me?”

“Oh,” Tony laughs a little. “It’s a credit card. You buy things and I get billed for it later.”

A wicked smile crosses Loki’s face. “Sounds great.” She snatches the credit card and starts walking away.

“Wait,” Tony says. “I get that the bruise is to fuck with Thor, and I totally respect that, but could you maybe hide it in public? If the press catches onto you, and I hope they don’t, looking like we beat you up is not going to bode well for us.”

“Fine,” Loki says. “Do I have a spending limit?”

“If you did, could I even expect you to acknowledge it?” Tony asks.

Loki smiles back at him, a little gentler this time. “Probably not.”

“You’re really just going to let her wander around unaccompanied.” Natasha stares at Tony. “In the city she tried to take over.”

Tony shrugs. “Peter’s going with her.”

“Peter is a civilian.” Natasha raises an eyebrow. “Unless, of course, he isn’t.”

Tony sighs. “How long have you known?”

“When he first started hanging around.” Natasha shrugs. “Us spiders have to stick together.”

Tony nods. He has tried his hardest to keep Peter safe and anonymous but of course Natasha found out. “Does anyone else know?”

“I think Clint has some suspicions,” Natasha says. “That boy has no idea how to be stealthy.”

“Would you possibly, maybe want to help him with that?” Tony asks. At Natasha's stare he shakes his head. “It is my responsibility to keep Peter safe. But sometimes I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Natasha nods slowly. “I’ll think about it.”

“Do pockets just… not exist anymore?” Loki looks sadly at the pile of clothes inside the dressing room.

“In girl clothes, not really,” Peter says from outside the dressing room. “That’s what purses are for, theoretically.”

Loki sighs. “But I need to carry things!”

“Like knives?” Peter laughs.

“Yes!” Loki says. “And other weapons.”

Peter laughs louder, and Loki steps out of the dressing room. She’s wearing a pale green dress that cinches in at her waist and falls down to her ankles. She spins, clearly delighted by the way the skirt swirls around her.

“You look nice,” Peter says. “You should get that.”

Loki stares back into the dressing room mirror, studying herself. She smiles.“I do look nice.”

They leave that store with a frankly upsetting amount of shopping bags. Loki pretended not to notice the way Peter’s eyes widened when he saw the total price. (Loki also definitely didn’t slip every single t-shirt she saw Peter looking at into the pile. Not at all.)

At some point, the two of them start slipping things they think the other would like into their piles. Loki hands Peter a t-shirt with Spider-Man swinging towards the skyline, and Peter hands Loki a necklace with the sun motif from Tangled on it.

“Ready to go home?” Peter asks Loki. Loki starts to argue that the tower isn’t her home, when the sight of red-and-gold flashing across the sky catches her eye.

Peter follows her gaze, eyes widening. “I should go help.”

Loki sighs. She knows Peter is one of Migardian's "superheroes" because he is the least subtle person she has ever met. But just because the Avengers are fighting something doesn’t mean that Peter has to.

Peter is already a few steps away when Loki grabs his arm. “Are you really just going to leave me here?”

Peter blushes. “You could find your way back.”

Loki puts her hands on her hips. “Are you serious? If Stark needed you in on this, wouldn’t he have called you? I really don’t think that this is a good idea.”

Peter sighs and turns back towards Loki. “Fine. You’re right. Let’s just go to the tower.”

Loki nods, picking back up the dozen or so shopping bags. “I’m so glad you agree.”

Chapter Text

The Avengers are debriefing. That is, they would be debriefing if Loki wasn’t trying to knock down the door.

“Maybe if we ignore her, she’ll go away?” Tony says optimistically. His head hurts thanks to the weapons dealer getting a good hit in during the fight. The knocking gets louder. “Or not.”

Steve rubs his temples. He gets up and opens the door. “Yes, Loki?” he asks.

Loki slips past him, stopping in front of Thor. (Who happens to be sporting a very sore rib cage thanks to the aforementioned weapons dealer.) Her face has the ghost of bruises, once again.

“What is wrong, brother?” Thor asks.

Loki doesn’t even react, her face scarily calm. “Did you know that Peter showed me how to use the TV?” she asks sweetly.

“The technology is great, yes!” Thor agrees. “We can speak about it later!”

Loki shakes her head. “I wasn’t done.” Loki smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “So, I was watching TV, when the news started playing. And do you know what was on the new?”

“Us,” Thor said. “Fighting in a glorious battle.”

“Yes,” Loki says again. The rest of the Avengers wish she wasn’t being so eerily calm. “And in said battle, you almost got hurt. Do you know why you almost got hurt?”

“Everything is fine!” Thor says. “There was a close call, but I am still hale and healthy.”

“Not the point, Thor.” Loki says. “The point is that you weren’t covering your left.”

Thor looks confused. (As do the rest of the Avengers.) “‘Twas a simple mistake.”

Loki shakes her head, almost shaking with anger. “No, Thor. It means that you were, once again, not paying attention.”

“Look, Loki,” Steve cuts in. “You’re right, there was a close call. But we’re handling it.”

Loki shakes her head. “No. Because then I asked FRIDAY if she could show me some other recent fights. And do you know what Thor did?” Loki asks.

“He didn’t cover his left,” Steve says. “Yeah, we’ve noticed that too.”

“So,” Loki says firmly. “Circling back to what is wrong. Thor, you need to cover your left. I’m not out there, and I don’t want to be, but you need to pay attention for once!”

“And you!” Loki turns towards Steve, skirt billowing around her ankles. “If you knew he was consistently putting himself at risk, why wouldn’t you do something!”

“We’re working on it,” Steve sighs. “We were actually going to talk about it during the debrief. Thor will be okay.”

Loki just shakes her head. “Fine.” She turns to leave.

“How did you even know where we are, kid?” Tony asks. The conference room is on the same floor as the living room and kitchen, yes, but FRIDAY isn’t supposed to tell anyone about it, as they might interfere with debriefs.

Loki shrugs. “I always know where Thor is.”

“Okay…” Tony says. “How?”

“Oh. I follow his seidr.”

That just raises more questions. They thought Loki was the magic one, not Thor.

“What do you mean, his seidr?”

Loki sighs. “Well, most people have latent seidr. Some Midgardians can actually see it -- some call it an aura? And Thor has a decent amount of seidr, he just uses mjolnir so much that he never actually learned how to channel it properly.”

“Mjolnir is a mighty weapon!” Thor interrupts.

“Yes, Thor,” Loki says. “But you’re the god of thunder, not of hammers.”

Thor shakes his head. “Must we have this conversation again?”

Loki narrows her eyes. “Well, maybe if you weren’t letting yourself get hurt, I wouldn’t critique the fact that you refuse to learn how to channel lightning without mjolnir!”

“Oh, so we’re arguing now?” Thor asks.

“This wasn’t an argument!” Loki yells. “You’re the one who always makes it so.”

“Well, if we’re arguing now, why must you dress like that?” Thor snaps.

Loki freezes and closes her eyes. Her hands are in fists by her sides, pressed against the smooth fabric of her skirt. “Because I wanted to. Is that not reason enough?” she asks.

“You are dishonoring our parents’ memories.”

“It is completely normal for girls to dress like this, Thor! Even Lady Natasha wears dresses sometimes, and she’s a warrior.”

“That’s different,” Thor says. “They’re women.”

“So am I!” Loki snaps. “I come here because I’m worried about your wellbeing and this is how you respond? You’re a terrible brother, Thor!”

Loki leaves the room and slams the door behind her.

The debrief goes (mostly) smoothly, after that. None of the Avengers except Natasha will meet Thor’s eyes, and Natasha’s cleaning her nails with a knife while making prolonged eye contact with Thor, so he’s not quite sure that’s an improvement.

“Can we talk?” Steve asks after the debrief.

“Of course!” Thor asks. “I am sorry about Loki. He has always been one for his tricks.”

Steve winces. “Look, Thor, most of the team is uncomfortable with how you’re treating Loki. even if Loki is just playing a trick, which I really don’t think is the case, what is the harm in humoring her?”

“I’m just trying to help him!” Thor responds, mjolnir heavy by his side.

“You hit her, Thor!” Steve snaps. “Which was cruel and out of line.”

Thor doesn’t have a response for that.

Steve sighs. “I think, Thor, that you really do love Loki. But it’s sometimes hard to tell.”

T̶h̶e̶ ̶A̶s̶s̶e̶t̶ James sees snippets, sometimes, of another life. A life he could almost see himself in. He sees a sickly blond boy (a friend?) and curly haired little girls (sisters?). He gets a notebook at another gas station when he switches stolen cars to write down fragments of maybe-memories.

Chapter Text

“Hey, Mr. Stark,” Peter says as he drops down from the ceiling.

“Christ kid,” Tony swears. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

Peter shrugs. “Not really, no.”

“Then why were you on the ceiling?” Tony asks.

“Oh! I had a question for you and it seemed like a good place to wait.”

“Peter,” Tony sighs. “There are literally two couches in this room. How was the ceiling a better option?”

Peter shrugs. “I don’t know. Anyway, I was wondering if Loki could come with me to get coffee? MJ and Ned were going to meet me there.”

“I don’t know…” Tony starts.

“Please, Mr. Stark! It’s almost the end of the summer and I won’t be able to hang out with Loki as much when school starts.” Peter uses his Parker Puppy Dog Eyes™.

Tony sighs. “Fine. Just make sure you don’t let Ted and MJ figure out who she is.”

“Thanks Mr. Stark!” Peter yells, already halfway out the room.

Tony rubs his temples, wondering how he got saddled with two teenagers. He winces thinking about school starting again, and Loki having nothing to do but bug Tony all day. (In the back of his mind, he starts to consider the pros and cons of sending Loki to Midtown with Peter.)

“Loki, I need to talk to you,” Steve says.

“What seems to be the issue?” Loki asks from behind a pile of books.

Steve sighs, holding up a piece of Tony’s Iron Man suit that has strange symbols carved into it. Steve has long ago learned that assuming things with Loki is a bad idea, and doubly bad if Loki thinks she’s being reprimanded. “What are these markings?”

Loki mumbles her answer.

“What?” Steve asks. “I need to know what’s going on, Loki.”

Loki looks away. “What does it matter?”

Steve sighs. There goes the attempt to not make Loki put up her guard. “As the leader of the Avengers, I need to make sure my people are safe.”

“I know what I’m doing!” Loki snaps.

“I never said you didn’t. But I don’t know what you’re doing.” Steve shakes his head. “You’re not in trouble. I just want to know what’s going on.”

“They’re protective runes,” Loki whispers at the table.

“May I ask why you feel the need to carve protective runes into Tony’s armor?”

Loki raises her eyebrow. “Have you taken a look at what you do on a daily basis, recently?” Loki shrugs, but she seems sad. “Midgardians have short enough lives as it is.”

“Okay,” Steve sighs again. “Do I have your word that these won’t accidentally harm any of us?”

“Yes,” Loki says. “Also, you might want to check the inside of your armor. I put them there too. Thor’s armor already has them. I didn’t touch Lady Natasha’s or Barton’s though, because I think they would murder me.”

Steve doesn’t disagree with Loki’s assessment. Loki returns to her book, having clearly decided that their conversation is over.

Loki wears her hair down to go to the coffeeshop with Peter. It isn’t proper for an Asgardian woman to wear her hair down in public — but when has Loki cared about the “proper” thing.

Crossing through the living room to the elevator, she waits for Thor to start ranting about how having her hair down is against Asgardian culture or her honor or something like that. But Thor doesn’t say anything. Loki is pleasantly surprised.

Loki and Peter get to the cafe first. Peter orders a hot chocolate (he wanted to get a coffee but Loki told him he was already hyper enough). Loki orders a frozen hot chocolate.

By the time MJ and Ned get there, Peter is halfway through a very long rant about how frozen hot chocolates are pointless and betray the concept of hot chocolate in the first place.

He only stops when he notices that MJ has her sketchpad out and is drawing him. Loki looks over MJ’s shoulder and thinks MJ captured Peter’s fake anguish quite well.

“Who are you?” MJ asks Loki when Peter finally stops ranting about frozen hot chocolate.

“This is my friend!” Peter starts, eyes widening when he realizes he maybe shouldn’t introduce her as Loki.

“Elle,” Loki cuts in smoothly. “My name is Elle.”

“Nice to meet you, Elle,” MJ says. She noticed Peter’s hesitation in naming Elle, of course she did. She files it away for later.

Chapter Text

“Hey, want to go buy some books?” Tony asks. Loki lights up at that, of course.

Loki’s hair is down again, but it’s shorter than it was yesterday. He’s wearing green because apparently that’s the only color he wears. (Tony does a mental double take at that. He? Loki just nods and says that today is a boy day.)

When they get to the bookstore, Loki’s eyes widen. The entire building is covered in books, the scale Loki has only ever seen before in libraries. He knew Midgard had made mass production of books possible — but knowing so is different than seeing it all in front of him.

Tony and Loki are barely inside when a bookseller comes to greet them. He looks a little older than Loki, with dark brown skin and slender hands. He makes eye contact with Loki, who looks away, blushing. (Tony did not expect Loki to be shy. But stranger things have happened.)

“Looking for something?” the boy asks. “My name’s Thomas.”

“Hi,” Loki says. “My name’s Elle.”

The boy wrinkles his eyebrows in confusion. “Isn’t that a girl name?”

Loki scrutinizes him. “I don’t know, is it?” His voice is syrupy sweet.

Tony takes that opportunity to flee from the teenagers. He’s isn’t quite sure if they’re flirting or fighting, but he’d rather not find out.

When Tony’s gone, Loki asks his question. He has to restart a couple times, his smooth tongue betraying him. “Do you… I mean, are there…”

He stops to recollect himself.

Thomas isn’t laughing at him, though. He looks sympathetic.

“Do you have any books about loving… the same type of person. Or being both boy and girl?” He stumbles over his words, wishing he never said them the second they left his mouth.

But Thomas isn’t laughing at him. He doesn’t even look reproachful. A smile spreads over the boy’s face and he moves to show Loki the way. “I have so much to show you.”

“You mean… there’s a whole section of these books?” Loki asks incredulously. “And they’re allowed? And visibly displayed?”

Thomas looks caught between a laugh and a sob. “Yeah, they are. This isn’t all of them, of course. Just the popular ones and the newer releases. There’s a whole backlog of queer books if these aren’t enough.”

That last remark was probably meant as a joke. But Loki is too busy mouthing the word “queer.” His Allspeak translates it to “strange,” translates it to “peculiar.” But Thomas’s intonation is too light for that, too conspiratorial. The clues seem to indicate the word is a label for what Loki is. (What Thomas might be implying that he is, too.) Loki finds the word rather charming.

(Later, he’ll read up on the history of the word. He missed its first use as a slur by a couple decades. But he rather likes the word and, seeing as apparently a large group of people are attempting to reclaim it, he decides to do the same. It definitely doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that he likes the word in the first place, and has a tendency to hoard pretty words. It also doesn’t have anything to do with how cute Thomas is when he smiles. Definitely not.)

“Do you have any recommendations?” Loki asks. He is pleased when Thomas lights up, gesturing wildly towards the stacks and piling books up by Loki.

Tony comes back to find Loki surrounded by books, a huge pile of which he wants to buy. If Thomas wrote his number on the receipt for Loki, that’s none of Tony’s business.

(Nobody knows how Tony Stark and a teenage civilian were kidnapped. A young bookseller, a teenager named Thomas who was just trying to save money for college, says there was the sound of a scuffle and then silence.)

States away, James sees the flyer at a bus station. There’s a picture of a man with a shield on the front — and James’s mind says targetfriendcaptain. Part of him thinks the man is the same skinny kid from half of his journal memories. Even though that’s impossible, James changes his destination to DC.

Chapter Text

When Tony and Loki leave the bookstore, they are at a tactical disadvantage. Primarily, neither of them expect to be attacked in the middle of a sunny day in New York City, especially since Tony is under the assumption that wearing a hat and sunglasses make him unrecognizable. Secondly, they are piled so high with books that even Loki’s stronger-than-human strength is rather overwhelmed, saying nothing of Tony.

So when people sneak up behind them with chloroform rags, they are not expecting it.

“What is this, Nancy Drew?” Tony quips. (Yes, he read children’s mystery books. Sue him.)

For his frankly delightful humor, one of the goons shoves the butt of a gun into Tony’s chest. He almost collapses in pain, because of course his luck would have the Nancy Drew goons destroy his fucking arc reactor. It’s not like he needed that or anything.

Loki immediately attempts to defend himself, the books tumbling to the ground. Tony shakes his head as he fades, remembering through the fog how much they have to lose if Loki’s found out.

Tony is rather good at hiding that he’s in pain. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s constantly sleep deprived that slurred words and stilted movements have come to be expected. It’s only when Loki attempts to inspect the wound and finds there isn’t a wound, but the glow he has sometimes seen from Stark’s chest is dimmed, that he realizes something is terribly wrong.

“You’re going to die,” Loki says, horrified. Loki hates himself for forgetting how breakable Midgardians are. He should have known better, been better. He should have fought, even though Tony told him not to.

“I’ll be fine,” Tony coughs, those terrible coughs that wrack his entire body. “Seriously, kid. I’m always fine.”

“What was it they broke?” Loki asks. If he knows what’s broken, he can fix it. He has to.

“Arc reactor,” Tony coughs. “I have shrapnel in my chest. It keeps it from going into my heart and lungs.”

“Oh,” Loki says. He can fix this, he’s sure he can. But he has so little time. He wants to ask, wants Tony to reassure him that he can do this. But he needs to work quickly.

Loki raises a hand. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“What are you —” Tony starts before slumping into a deep sleep.

Loki looks to the surveillance camera. After what Tony did to keep Loki from being outed as other-Loki, he knows he can’t let the camera catch what he’s doing. So he angles himself over Tony and gets to work.

Tony wakes up hours later with a gasp. More air floods his chest than he knows what to do with.

“What happened?” He asks. Loki presses the shrapnel into his hand, saying nothing.

Tony sighs. “That wasn’t cool.”

Loki holds Tony’s gaze. “I’m not sorry for what I did,” he says. He looks away then. “But I am sorry for how I did it.”

Tony nods. He would have preferred a heads-up (or for Loki to not play in his insides in the first place). But he’s seen the way Loki is whenever anyone he cares about gets hurt. He understands it.

“You’re a good kid,” Tony says. And he means it.

Loki falls asleep. There’s a reason precision healing is usually done with multiple healers. When he wakes up, Tony isn’t there.

Loki starts to panic. He debates using his seidr to get himself out of the room they’ve been locked in and looking for Tony, when the door opens and Tony is unceremoniously thrown back inside.

His lip is bloodied but he seems otherwise unharmed. Loki dabs at his lip with the edge of his shirt, but Tony flinches away from the pressure.

“What happened?” Loki asks quietly. He can find a way out of this, of course he can, but he needs more information first.

“The assholes want me to make them weapons,” Tony mumbles. “I don’t do that anymore.”

“Okay,” Loki says calmly. “That’s good news.”

“How is that good news?” Tony slurs.

“Because that means they aren’t going to kill you anytime soon. And, theoretically, they’re going to need you alert and unharmed enough to build stuff for them.”

“I think you’re giving them too much credit,” Tony mumbles.

“Perhaps I am.” Loki sighs. After all, if they were smarter, they wouldn’t have kidnapped Loki along with Tony. That’s going to come back to bite them.

“Could you magic us out of here?” Tony slurs, using jazz hands when he says magic. Loki magnanimously ignores the jazz hands.

Loki sighs. “I could get myself out. I’d have to walk Yggdrasil to get back to the Tower. In other circumstances, I might be able to take a passenger. But I don’t know the lines of Midgard as well as the rest of the Nine.”

“You should go, then,” Tony says. “I can take care of myself.”

“Why didn’t you let me use my seidr when I could have prevented this from happening? Because your idea seems to include your captors watching me vanish from the cell and also leaving you alone. How is that a good idea?”

“It’s better than you being here with me,” Tony slurs. “Really, kid, you should go.”

Loki doesn’t respond. Instead, he channels a little bit of seidr into his fingertips and lessens the swelling of Tony’s lip. Not enough for the cut to disappear, of course. But enough to make it stop hurting.

The door slides open again a couple hours later.

“Good news,” the man outside the door says. “We’ve been given a ransom for the kid. He’ll be going home tomorrow. We don’t need him anyway.”

Loki starts to plan.

Chapter Text

“We’re not using your plan,” Tony says.

“Why not?” Loki snaps. “It’s a good plan.”

“Yes, it is.” Tony acquiesces. “But if you go home today, I’m certain that the rest of the team will get me out by the end of the week.”

“But why wait that long?” Loki asks, clearly annoyed. “If you stay behind, then they can use you as a hostage, even if you don’t make them any weapons. It would make so much more sense for us to stick to my plan.”

“No,” Tony says. “And that’s final.”

Tony slams on the door, over and over. “Help!” he yells. “The kid’s sick.”

Loki lies on the ground, limbs splayed out. The door slides open slowly, a heavily-armed man staring in.

“Get him out of here!” Tony pleads. “He’s just a kid.”

The man nods. “Fine. We were handing him off today anyway.”

Loki is taken from the room, Tony’s hysterics lasting the whole time.

Then, when the room goes quiet again, Loki smiles. The illusion over Stark will fade once he’s in contact with one of the Avengers. When that happens, Loki is out of here. He’ll leave illusions, of course, for the cameras. Enough that they’ll never know what actually happened.

Loki sets his illusions. Then he leaves.

The walk through Yggdrasil’s branches takes longer than Loki would have hoped. He has certainly slacked on learning his way around Midgard. He notes that for future reference.

When he gets to the Tower, the Avengers look less than pleased to see him.

Tony, who did not appreciate being knocked out and illusioned, is especially mad. Loki has barely been in the Tower for a minute when Tony stomps in.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he yells. Loki half-flinches, before reeling himself in.

“I was thinking that there was no point in us being held prisoner when I could get us both out! I was trying to help!”

“Brother!” Thor booms from the doorway, Steve beside him. He hugs Loki, who begrudgingly allows the hug. “I was worried.”

Loki snorts, not quite meeting Thor’s eyes. “When have I found a situation I can’t get myself out of?”

Thor smiles, and it’s easy to see how the two of them used to fight side by side. “I always worry that one day you will.”

“I agree,” Tony says. “I explicitly told Loki not to do that. And he did it anyway.”

Thor looks troubled. “It is true. By using your illusions, you prevented my friends from freeing Stark honorably!”

Tony shakes his head. “That’s not it. Loki’s powers aren’t the issue and, in other circumstances, his help would be greatly appreciated. But we were worried sick, Loki. You were so upset about leaving me behind that you made me leave you. That wasn’t cool.”

“I can handle myself!” Loki snaps. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t treat me like a child!”

“You are a child.” Steve pipes in. “A very smart and very powerful child, but a child nonetheless.”

Loki opens his mouth to argue when Tony cuts back in.

“I need you to follow instructions, kid! Sometimes the things we do are dangerous, and we need to know that you’re not going to get in the way.” Loki’s going pale at Tony’s words, though Tony doesn’t notice. “What if something happens and you get us all killed because you think you’re smarter than us?”

Loki bites back his instinctive retort. (Which happens to be “I am smarter than you.”) Instead, looking at Tony’s red face and Steve’s disappointed look, he shrugs. “I don’t understand why you’re angry with me.”

Steve sighs. “We’re not angry, Loki. We were very worried about you. And now that we know you’re safe, we are upset about what happened. You are a very capable person, Loki, but you’re not an adult. We are the adults. It is our responsibility to keep you safe, not the other way around. You need to have some trust in us.”

Loki snorts. “Easy for you to say.”

Tony and Steve both wince. Over the past couple months, it had been easy to pretend that they never put Loki in cuffs that made him sick. Easy to pretend that he wasn’t the same person who tried to take over New York, albeit a younger version.

“You’re right,” Steve says. “We all need to learn how to trust each other more. Loki, we’re glad you’re back.”

Loki nods begrudgingly. He knows when to cut his losses.

The three file away, Thor leaving Loki with a slightly painful pat on the shoulder.

The elevator opens and Clint steps through, looking at Loki in the middle of the room.

He raises an eyebrow. “I thought we’d finally gotten rid of you.”

“I’m afraid not,” Loki says. After the accidentally-shooting-Loki thing and the subsequent saving-everyone-from-the-winter-soldier thing, Clint and Loki had had some sort of truce. Not a kind truce, but at least a peaceful one.

“What a shame,” Clint says.

Tony pops his head back in from the kitchen before Loki or Clint can throw any more barbs. “I made some lunch,” Tony says. “I assumed you’d be hungry.”

Loki smiles, shoulder relaxing. (He hadn’t even realized how tense he had gotten until he relaxed a little.) “Thanks.”

“Also,” Tony says. “You’re so grounded.”

The few memories James has are fragments of decades of murders and small girls learning ballet and so much screaming. DC is not James’s first choice of where to be. Politics are everything here — if anyone knows about The Asset, it would be someone in DC. But the museum is here, the one about maybe-Steve. Worst case scenario, James tells himself, he can observe what normal Americans do nowadays.

James is very rarely lucky. But the Air and Space museum is free, meaning James can make his money last a little longer. That’s as close to luck as James is likely to get.

Chapter Text

“Another group meeting?” Natasha asks. “Really?”

Tony sighs. “As we’re all aware, summer is coming to a close.”

“No more slumber parties, then?” Clint jokes. “Our non-existent vacation is over?”

Tony rolls his eyes at Clint’s antics. “I think we should send Loki to school when it starts again.”

Natasha glares at Tony. “You’re going to send her to a hive of civilians? Child civilians?”

“She won’t hurt anyone,” Tony says. “And I’d pull some strings so she’d be in all of Peter’s classes.”

“Great,” Clint says. “So your teenage intern is going to be entrusted to keep an alien megalomaniac in check?”

“I like your idea, Tony,” Steve says. “But I agree. That’s a lot to put on a teenager’s shoulders.”

“Peter can handle it,” Tony says. Natasha just looks amused — she’s been training Peter in hand-to-hand for a month now and Peter has started calling her “spider-mama.” (Natasha pretends she hates it. Natasha secretly loves it.)

“They should know,” Natasha says. “If you’re serious about this.”

“Know what?” Clint says. “That Peter is Spider-Man?”

Tony’s eyes go wide. “What are you talking about?”

“That was a secret?” Thor asks. “I thought we all knew Starkson was the Man of Spiders?”

“He’s not my son,” Tony clarifies. “Also, seriously? Did everyone know?”

Steve nods. “He’s not very subtle.”

Bruce agrees. “He accidentally stuck himself to a lab bench when he was really excited about science.”

“Seriously, though,” Tony says. “Loki’s going stir-crazy. And wouldn’t it be better for her to have something constructive to do for eight hours a day instead of just moping around the Tower?”

The Avengers shudder at that thought. Slowly, they warm up to the idea.

“I have good news!” Thor says. Loki looks up from her book. She scoots over so Thor can sit next to her.

“What’s going on?” Loki asks. She’s learned to be wary of Thor’s “good news” — thanks to the many times that good news meant Loki was being carted along on a hunt or a quest that she would really rather not be on.

“Once the schools open this fall, you will be joining Peter at his Midgardian academy!”

Loki lights up. She’d prefer a university, of course. She has hundreds of years on Peter and his classmates. (And, if someone tries to make her read Candide again, she is going to riot.) But going to school with Peter might even be fun.

Her excitement dims a bit. “They trust me enough for that?” Loki asks.

“Trust is a strange thing,” Thor says. “You look just like her.” His gaze barely meets Loki’s.

“Mother?” Loki looks confused. He speaks to Thor as if he were very, very dumb. “I look very little like mother, Thor.”

“No,” Thor shakes his head. “Hela.”

“Our sister,” Loki says quietly.

“You know of her?” Thor asks, grip on Loki’s arm tightening before Loki’s wince makes him loosen up.

“Only secondhand.” Loki shrugs. “Banner told me.”

“Ah,” Thor says. “Yes, she was a force to be reckoned with.”

Loki looks back at Thor, unreadable emotions coloring her gaze. “Is that a compliment or an insult, Thor?”

Thor shugs. “‘Tis just a comment.”

But Loki knows what Thor is implying. Trust is a commodity that Odin’s children mostly grew up without. Sometimes, Loki wonders if she and Thor are more similar than they appear.

Chapter Text

Loki’s first week at Midtown is full of highs and lows.

Elle is a quiet girl, if overly clever. She rarely raises her hand but, when she does, she speaks at length on very specific topics. She seems to know very little about American history, but could give a speech on early 1800s British politics. She does not seem very interested in math or science, but she never gets the answers wrong. Her English teacher is thrilled to have someone so interested in literature, and she and Elle have a long discussion about Lydia versus Georgiana’s treatment in Pride and Prejudice.

Elle doesn’t mingle with her classmates often. She seems close to Peter Parker and cordial with his friends. She doesn’t mind talking to her classmates, but she rarely starts conversations.

(Except for the time she verbally eviscerated Flash for calling Peter “Penis Parker.”)

Some other highlights from Elle’s first week of school:

She has a heat stroke on the second day of gym. (Well, technically it’s heat exhaustion, which is slightly less dangerous. She still feels like shit, though, and has to spend a couple hours in the nurse’s office.)

When nuclear weapons are mentioned in passing during history, she internally freaks out. She thinks about how lucky Midgard is that the All Father never cared to pay attention to them. After all, the All Father liked taking away his children’s toys.

But the most upsetting day is only a week or so after school starts. The students had been ushered into the theater for a presentation. Peter and Elle split off — Peter gets on the subway to go home and Elle takes the long walk to the Tower to clear her head.

Steve is sitting on the couch when Loki comes home from school. Steve tries to greet her, but she rushes past him. She runs straight to the bathroom and slams the door.

Steve would leave her alone, normally. He remembers being a teenager and wishing he was well enough to be left alone. But he’s pretty sure she’s throwing up.

Steve knocks gently against the door. “Are you alright?”

Loki doesn’t respond. He can hear running water and soft footsteps from inside the bathroom. Finally, what feels like hours later, Loki opens the door. Her eyes are watery and her body is shaking.

“Sorry,” Loki says. “I’m going to go to my room.” She sidesteps Steve.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” Steve says. Loki just stares at him. “You don’t have to talk about whatever’s making you upset. But if you want to, I’m always here.”

Loki nods curtly and flees.

Loki refuses to leave her room at dinner. Thor says she’s been holed up in there since she got home. Thor, however, also says that Loki has always been prone to fits of isolation. It’s the same reason she feels the need to travel around the realm every couple decades — sometimes, she just wants to be left alone.

Tony and Steve aren’t convinced.

“She was just so rattled when she came home from school today,” Steve says. “I’m worried about her.”

Tony sighs. “I’m going to call Peter. See if he knows anything.”

Peter picks up on the second ring. “Hi, Mr. Stark!” he says. “Is everything alright?”

“Mostly,” Tony says. “Loki’s been acting strange since she got home from school. Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

Peter sighs. “Yeah, I do. But I think it’s Loki’s story to tell.”

“She hasn’t been willing to talk to me or Steve yet today.” Tony sighs. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I think you should just ask her,” Peter says. “I really can’t help you with this.”

Tony knocks softly on Loki’s door. He stands there for so long that he thinks she isn’t going to answer. But, finally, the door creaks open.

“What do you want?” Loki asks. She looks more disheveled than she would ever let someone see. Hair is falling out of her braids and she looks so tired.

“What’s going on with you, kid,” Tony says. “You look terrible.”

“Wow, thanks.” Loki snorts. “You sure know how to flatter a girl.”

Tony smiles. “Anytime.” He steps into Loki’s room before she can close the door on him. “But seriously, what’s going on?”

Loki sighs. “Would you believe me if I said that it’s nothing?”

Tony shakes his head. “Probably not.”

“Fine,” Loki says. “We just had an assembly in school that freaked me out a bit. I’ll be fine.”

“What was the assembly about?” Tony asks.

Loki shakes her head. “Nothing important.”

Tony raises his eyebrow. “You are much too upset for it to be about ‘nothing important.’”

Loki won’t meet Tony’s eyes. “It was about abuse.

Tony freezes. He knew, growing up, that something was off. That normal parents cared more about their children than some dead superhero. He doesn’t quite know what a normal family is like — and he’s starting to think Loki doesn’t either.

“We should talk,” Tony says.

“I’d really rather not.” Loki attempts a smile, but it’s more akin to a grimace.

“Have I ever told you about my dad?” Tony asks.

Loki and Tony end up talking until the middle of the night about shitty fathers and shittier coping mechanisms. They talk about abuse, yes, but also healing. (Loki won’t admit that Tony understands what she’s going through. They both know it. And that’s enough.)

James knows he cannot keep visiting the museum. Routines are too easy to replicate, paint too big of a target. But the man in the pictures, Lt. Bucky Barnes looks like him. And Captain America looks so much like Steve, which is the reason James came to DC in the first place. James knows he needs to stop coming to the museum — but he doesn’t know what to do next.

Chapter Text

It starts in math class. Nothing good ever happens in math class.

Loki notices Peter tense from across the room. Loki isn’t supposed to know that Peter is Spider-Man but honestly it is so glaringly obvious. And Peter always seems to know when trouble’s coming. So Loki pays attention.

She can hear distant shouting. The classroom phone rings. Mr. Harrison picks it up and his face goes white.

“Everyone, we have to get in the corner,” Mr. Harrington says. “This is not a drill.”

He locks the door while the kids cram themselves into the only corner where they can’t be seen from the doorway or the windows. Peter stays near the front, and Loki stays near him. She knows that Peter will try to be the hero. Loki does not want any of her friends to get hurt — but she knows what Peter’s secret identity means to him.

“Are you seriously live streaming this?” MJ hisses at Flash.

“If we all die, I want people to at least be able to find out who did it!” Flash whispers back.

There are loud footsteps in the hall. Something bashes against the door, once, twice. Everyone quiets. The door opens, splinters flying. A man comes in, wearing a mask that covers his face. There is a gun in his hands. (Distantly, Loki notes that the Winter Soldier looked much more menacing. This copycat is much less scary.)

“Give us Eugene Thompson, and nobody has to get hurt,” the man says.

Peter inches forward. Loki grabs his hand and shakes her head. “Don’t.”

Loki has always been good at patterns, good at plans. Loki can bet that Peter doesn’t have his suit and even if he did, he can’t reveal himself. Humans are so painfully breakable, after all.

Peter tries to shake off her hand. “Let me go!”

Loki shakes her head. “You have too much to lose, Peter.” She looks at him knowingly.

“You know,” Peter breathes.

“Of course I do.” Loki rolls her eyes.

“You two!” The man shouts. “Shut up or I’ll shoot!”

Mr. Harrison climbs to his feet. “Look,” he says. “They’re kids. There must be a way that we can work this out.”

“I don’t think so,” the man snarls. “Thompson comes with us, or none of you leave this room.”

Here’s the thing about Loki. She isn’t gentle, isn’t often kind for kindness’s sake. But she is fiercely loyal. She’s almost died for Thor before. And Peter is 100 times more worthy of her loyalty than Thor. (And she probably won’t even have to die.)

Loki stands up slowly and starts walking forward, closing the distance between her and the man. She can hear Mr. Harrison and the other students yelling at her to stop, to come back. But she’s protecting them: MJ with her fascination for human suffering, Ned with his tech, even Flash isn’t bad enough to warrant death.

“You better stop, girly,” the gunman says, loading the gun. This, Loki thinks, is quite rude of him.

The man shoots. In the space between the gunman and Loki, a barrier forms, bright green and shining.

“Peter,” Loki says without looking behind her. “Get everyone out.”

Loki moves her hand and a desk crashes through the wall, allowing the students to run out of the building. Loki was trying not to cause any damage, to make cleaning this situation up later easier, but there’s only so much she can do. Mr. Harrington tries to stay behind, which is nice of him but rather short sighted. Loki sighs and uses a smidgen of seidr to push him out the hole in the wall.

“What the —” the man says. Loki smiles darkly, pushes the barrier towards the man, and the man falls onto the floor. He’s only unconscious — Loki would love to hurt him more, for endangering her friends, but she needs plausible deniability.

Loki walks casually to her backpack, grabbing her phone. She dials Tony.

“Holy shit, kid,” is the first thing Tony says. “Is everyone alright? I just got an alert from Midtown.”

“Everyone is fine, Stark.” Loki says smoothly. She sits on the ground, criss-cross applesauce, and waits for the authorities to arrive. “We knew it was going to come out eventually.”

“Knew what was going to come out eventually?” Tony asks.

“That I’m an Asgardian citizen, going to an American school to see how we can be further integrated on Midgard,” she says. “That’s how I know Peter, after all. He’s your intern, and I’m often at the Tower. He is fine, by the way. Not compromised at all.”

Loki emphasizes the last point and hopes that Tony understands.

“You are a tiny genius and I’m so glad you’re not evil.”

Loki sighs. “I’m still in the classroom. I figured leaving the scene of the crime might be frowned upon.”

“Don’t say anything to anyone,” Tony orders. “I’ll call my lawyers. You are not to speak to anyone without lawyers present. You did nothing wrong — in fact, you did everything right. But we’re going to have to do this next part by the book.”

“Sounds good,” Loki says. She can hear sets of feet running up the hallway. “It seems I am about to have company.” She ends the call.

Chapter Text

When Loki finally gets to go home, she expects the Avengers to be mad at her. (She remembers the last time she used her seidr to solve a problem when they didn’t want her to.)

“I’m not going to apologize,” she says the second she steps through the door. Tony had sent a driver to pick her up, not wanting the publicity of an Avenger going to get her, but it also had the unintended side effect that she had the entire time to prepare a speech.

“Nobody’s asking you to,” Tony says. “You did good today. And that was some quick thinking.”

“Thanks.” Loki doesn’t mention that she had that plan worked out since the first day of school, just in case. It’s always good to have fallback plans.

“I have a question, though,” Tony says. “You could have used this as an opportunity to be Loki again. Why didn’t you?”

Loki smiles sadly. “I understand politics, Stark.” If her eyes look watery, that’s nobody’s business but her own. “For New Asgard’s continued stability, Loki has to stay dead.”

“That sucks.”

Loki shrugs. “I’m used to it.”

“Know what?” Tony says, suddenly resolute. “I’m going to make you some armor. Just in case.”

“I don’t need armor if they never get in a hit,” Loki says.

“I’ll make you both boy and girl versions.”

“Fine,” Loki says. She pretends she isn’t smiling. (She fails miserably.)

The Avengers have to hold a press conference — the Elle-is-an-Asgardian-teenager coverup worked remarkably well, but the press still wants to know more.

Tony and Thor, fortunately, had been able to pull enough strings to get Elle’s name on the New Asgardian census along with a backdated Visa into America. But people still have questions.

“Is she going to join the Avengers?” One reporter asks.

“No,” says Steve. “She is just a teenager who did what anyone else would have done, had they her capabilities. She’s expressed no interest in the Avengers and, even if she did, we would not employ a child to fight.”

“Captain!” Another reporter shouts. “What do you think about the politicians who are in favor of keeping track of enhanced people?”

Steve takes a deep breath. “Just because people are different than you doesn’t mean they’re dangerous. Elle saved lives. That is a fact. Yes, America should do more to make sure enhanced kids are happy and healthy growing up, like all kids should be, and optional training should be offered. But when you start talking about keeping track of enhanced peoples, it starts seeming a lot like what I fought against 70 years ago.”

“She’s a menace!” Steve winces -- he knows this reporter. This man works for an alt-right paper that regularly calls for arresting every enhanced person who doesn’t swear fealty to America and join the army.

“Elle is a child,” Steve says. “A powerful, brave, exasperating child. But a child nonetheless. I cannot believe that after Elle saved her classmates and possibly many others, you have the gall to imply that her powers are dangerous. If you ever wonder why some enhanced people turn against you -- this is why. Every time you dehumanize them, belittle them, treat them like they’re monsters, you’re trying to circulate a self-fulfilling prophecy. I will absolutely not allow it at this press conference.” Steve looks through the crowd again. The man who called Elle a menace is shaking with fury. But the rest of the reporters are frantically taking notes. Steve notices one give him a small thumbs up. “Does anyone have any more questions?”

The press conference ends pretty quickly after that.

“That went better than expected,” Steve says, rubbing his temples. “Now we just need to make sure SHIELD doesn’t find out about you.”

All the Avengers — Clint and Natasha included — are in the room.

“What’s SHIELD?” Loki asks.

“The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division,” Natasha says. “Basically, we take care of threats. And you are a threat.”

“That’s understandable,” Loki says. It’s almost uncanny, the way Loki looks so calm about an entire department of government possibly being after her.

(Clint and Natasha have to admit that, even if they don’t like her, they don’t want her to go into SHIELD custody as much as they used to.)

James looks at Captain America’s drawings of his soldiers, of a beautiful woman in victory rolls, and the memories lap at the edge of his mind. Sometimes, he spends all day jotting down fragments in his notebook, the one with a shield on the cover that he got from the museum gift shop. Sometimes he finds himself so lost in a drawing or the rare photograph that he stares at it until the museum closes. Sometimes he cannot even enter the building, his mind going haywire over security and lines of vision and exit placement. (Those days are his least favorite. Recently, they have been happening less and less.)

Chapter Text

Thor throws a book at Loki. Not to hurt him, of course. Thor is really just making sure that this is actual-Loki and not illusion-Loki.

Of course, the downside of this plan is that, when the book hits actual-Loki, he’s pissed.

“Thor!” He snaps, cradling the book in his hands. “Must you be so vexing?”

“‘Twas a joke, brother.” Thor smiles at Loki.

Loki mutters under his breath. “I need a new family.”

“Very funny,” Thor laughs heartily.

“No, seriously,” Loki says. “I’m going to go traverse the multiverse to find someone who won’t throw books at my head. Sometimes I don’t understand how we’re related.”

Tony laughs. “Good thing you’re not actually related, right kid?”

That, Tony realizes a second later, was a monumentally fuck up. There are things that their Loki knows and things that other-Loki knew, and knowledge of the whole adopted-from-Jotunheim was firmly in the other-Loki camp.

Loki freezes and Tony is not 100% sure he’s breathing. Thor looks extremely uncomfortable. Bruce and Steve look between Loki and Thor, as if Loki is going to spontaneously combust.

“What does he mean by that, Thor?” Loki asks, voice dreadfully soft.

“I was going to tell you,” Thor says, hands out to placate Loki, as if he were a wounded animal. “I just didn’t know when the right moment was.”

“How long have you known?” Loki asks. His voice is too calm, face too still.

“A couple years ago,” Thor sighs. “Really, it matters not. You are still my brother, and I love you dearly.”

Loki shakes his head. “No, that doesn’t make sense. Because if it didn’t matter, you would have told me. Which means that it does matter. And I’d like to know why!”

“Brother,” Thor says softly. “Maybe we should go somewhere private. This may upset you.”

“No,” Loki snaps. “It seems like they already know whatever this secret is, anyway.”

Tony winces as Thor shoots a glare at him. Yeah, he has screwed up monumentally.

Loki grits his teeth. “What. Aren’t. You. Telling. Me.”

“Fine,” Thor sighs. “I will tell you. But first, I need you to remember that you have been and always will be my brother.”

“Just tell me!”

“We were on Jotunheim a couple years ago,” Thor says. “A jotun touched you and… instead of freezing, you started turning blue.”

Whatever Loki was expecting, it certainly wasn’t that. Odin cheating or Frigga - or even Frigga cheating on Odin - had seemed more likely. That he had been hoisted on the royals by a noble with connections and leverage, a possibility. But that he isn’t even Asgardian - isn’t even mother’s child - makes no sense.

The book falls from Loki’s hands, hitting the carpet with a soft thump. His heart races in his chest, getting faster and faster and fasterandfasterandfaster.

“Please don’t freak out,” Thor says.

“I’m not freaking out!” Loki screams, clearly freaking out.

He lurches off the couch, backing himself into a corner where he can see everyone else in the room. He stares at his hands with wide eyes. A deep blue spreads up his arms.

He looks up, and his eyes are bright red.

He makes a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “I’m the monster parents tell their children about at night.”

“You are my brother!” Thor says, standing up and taking a step towards Loki.

“No.” Loki shakes his head. “What was I? Another one of the All Father’s stolen relics?” Loki laughs, brittle and broken, and the Avengers can see how easy it would have been for him to shatter completely the first time.

Steve stands up. Thor is clearly just stressing Loki out more. But maybe someone else might be able to calm him down.

“Loki,” Steve says soothingly. “I need you to take a deep breath, can you do that for me?”

Loki nods shakily, chest rising and falling slightly slower than before.

“Good,” Steve says. He takes a step forward, hoping Loki won’t notice. But of course he does.

“Don’t come near me!” Loki takes another couple steps back, until his back hits the wall.

“Nobody’s going to hurt you,” Steve says as soothingly as you can. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

Loki shakes his head frantically. “I’ll hurt you.”

“Why do you think that?” Steve says. In other circumstances, it would be almost funny that Steve does not even register that as a threat. In this one, it’s heartbreaking.

“Jotun’s touch can kill,” Loki slides down the wall, staring at his hands. “I don’t think you want to go back on ice, Rogers.”

Not knowing what to do with his shaking hands, he presses them against the tile. Slowly, frost starts crawling across the tile. His eyes widen and he snatches his hand back. “I’m a monster,” he whispers.

“You are no such thing!” Thor bellows.

Loki looks up at him. Thor makes a valiant effort not to flinch when the red eyes meet his, but he doesn’t quite succeed.

“If I’m not a monster,” Loki says, eerily calm. “Then why would you keep this from me?”

Thor looks painfully sad. “Last time you learned about this, you threw yourself off the Bifrost.”

Loki laughs then, sharp as one of his knives. “When we were kids, you promised you’d kill all the jotun for me! Maybe I was just finishing the job!”

“Don’t say that,” Thor says. His voice is soft, for once. If Loki reaches back into the depths of his memory, he can almost remember Thor using that voice on him as Loki toddled behind him.

“I need you to go get the cuffs,” Loki says. His eyes are desperate, his hands wringing violently. “So I can’t hurt anyone.”

“Absolutely not!” Tony snaps, beating all the other adults in the room by just a moment. “You have trained your sedir for generations, Loki. This will be an adjustment, but it will be fine. You won’t hurt anyone.”

Loki looks up, red eyes wide. “I always hurt someone.”

Chapter Text

“Has he finally come out?” Tony asks.

“Not since the last time you asked,” Steve says.

Tony had thought he was doing a good thing when he made Banner an entire wing to Hulk out in, instead of a tiny cell. Bruce had mentioned his therapist hounding him about accepting the Hulk — and Tony needed a project.

Tony had also thought he was doing a good thing when he proposed those rooms as an alternative option to putting a highly traumatized child back into a cell. But now, after almost a week of Loki refusing to leave the wing, Tony was starting to wonder if that was such a great idea after all.

Loki doesn’t mind the containment wing. It was built to be near indestructible, but also colorful and bright and soft enough to feel less like a cell. It feels almost normal — Peter stops by after school with his homework and Thor stares at him sadly and Tony tries to bribe him to come back out.

They don’t understand why he can’t leave. They don’t understand that he has spent hundreds of years mastering his seidr. He doesn’t have a framework for the way jotun use seidr and has a war’s worth of propaganda memorized. All seidr is dangerous and he learned the first time surrounded by experts and mother and now he’s alone, alone, alone.

A noise by the door catches his attention.

“Please come out for lunch,” Steve says through the door. “You need to eat.”

Loki shakes his head, color swirling under his skin as he flickers from blue to white to blue. The room is near freezing, frost spreading across the floor. “I’m fine.”

Steve sighs. “I’ll bring you some food.”

Loki doesn’t respond. They’ve danced this dance every day for a week.

Rinse, repeat. Rinse, repeat. Loki lets the rhythm of the repeat soothe him.

Bruce is angry. Bruce said, once, that he was always angry. That was the truth. That was a lie. He’s always angry in the way that teenagers are, when they start learning about injustice. Not thinking about it constantly, but remembering every now and then that the world is not fair and hating the world for it. That feeling of powerlessness and anger is always there — it is not, however, always enough to pull out the Hulk.

Today, it is.

Almost on autopilot, Bruce winds his way to Hulk’s wing. He knows the Avengers could handle him, if they needed to, but he hates the way they look at him after. It’s different when they’re fighting. There, he’s an asset. Here, he’s something between a friend and a charity case.

He barely makes it to the containment unit before Hulking out. Hulk punches the walls a couple times, material so soft that it barely hurts.

Hulk doesn’t like being trapped. But this isn't quite a trap. Hulk does not completely understand.

The Hulk is not, as many assume, unintelligent. He has thoughts and memories, understands that he is Banner and isn’t Banner. So when he sees a boy, white and green and slender, he remembers threat and he remembers army and he remembers stop.

The boy looks up and stares at him. “Do I know you?” he asks.

“Hulk smash puny god,” Hulk adds helpfully.

The boy's confusion clears away. “Oh.” The boy’s eyes (once blue now green red green) are sad. “You’re Banner’s monster.”

“Hulk not monster!” Hulk says. Hulk is different, but Hulk is not wrong. People don’t usually understand that.

“Don’t worry,” the boy says softly. “I have a monster too.”

The boy lets his hands go blue, raised blue lines running up his arms. He lets ice form on his hands and holds it out so Hulk can see.

Hulk just stares. Hulk has seen magic before, evil magic that tried to hurt Hulk’s friends. This magic is beautiful.

Loki puts his hand down, watches as blue fades back into white.

“See,” Loki says. “We’re all monsters here.”

“Puny god needs hug,” Hulk says.

James keeps going back to the museum. It doesn't make sense but he thinks — he knows — he's the same Bucky who grew up with Steve Rogers. Once upon a time, he was James Buchanan Barnes. He had a little sister. He had a name and a life and stood against every single thing HYDRA stood for. He's not sure he can be that man again. But, at least, he can be his own man. Bucky packs up his notebook full of memories and slips out of the museum.

Chapter Text

When Loki finally comes out of the containment unit, still shaking and stubborn, he refuses to tell anyone what happened between him and the Hulk. He thinks Banner knows - he has to, right? - but the man refuses to tell secrets that aren’t his own. Loki appreciates that. In the back of his mind, he wonders if other-Loki and Banner could have been friends, back when they were escaping a planet together.

Every time Thor tries to talk to Loki, every time he walks into a room, Loki turns and leaves. Communication has never been a priority in Loki’s family, and even if it had been, Loki doesn’t have the words to explain that every time he sees Thor, his world tilts back off its axis. Every time he sees Thor, he feels cornered and raw and wrong.
When they were little, if Loki slinked away to be alone, Thor would follow. It was sweet, then. Now it’s aggravating.

Loki has found a hiding place in Tony’s lab. No, that’s not quite true - he was presented with a hiding place in Tony’s lab. Once, when Thor was doggedly trying to talk to Loki, Tony and Peter passed by on the way to the lab. Tony made eye contact with Loki and nodded for him to follow.

Now, Loki often follows Peter to the lab. He doesn’t mess around with the tech, though it would be interesting to combine sedir and midgardian technology. Instead, he sits and watches. It’s calming, to watch other people and not have to interact. Thor and his friends never understood that. They always thought he was going to play a trick on them, when he sat like this. They’d pressure him to join them or, more often, chase him away in the kind of cruelty masquerading as “boy’s games.”

Peter takes a break and sits next to Loki, their backs against the cool metal of the wall.

“You okay?” Peter asks softly. He’s been covering for Loki lately. Tony had a forged doctor’s note and got Loki as many excused absences as necessary. Peter has been deflecting questions and bringing back homework. Peter’s friendship is nice - quiet and calm, though Peter is anything but that.

“I don’t know,” Loki says, and he’s telling the truth. He’s not quite sure where he fits in the world anymore. He used to know his place. At Thor’s side, as the second prince of Asgard, as someone who always bends rules until they break. He’s not so sure anymore.

“I know your relationship with Thor is weird,” Peter says, which is a huge understatement. “But blood doesn’t necessarily make a family. I’m not biologically related to Aunt May.”

“That’s different,” Loki sighs. “I’m a monster.”

Peter shakes his head, mouth pressed in a determined line. “You don’t really believe that.”

Loki shrugs. Sometimes, he can’t separate his own beliefs from what he’s been told. He was always considered strange on Asgard, tolerated because of Thor and his mother. Maybe, when you’re told that you’re wrong and bad and broken enough times, you start to believe it.

When you’re told that a group of people are wrong and bad and broken, you start to believe that too. Loki knows enough of history, human and otherwise, to know that.

Loki forces a smile. “I don’t know what I believe anymore.”

Chapter Text

“Look, kid, this isn’t working,” Tony says.

(He really needs to work on not saying ominously vague things around Loki. Immediately, her spine straightens and her jaw sets.)

“What’s not working?” she asks.

“Being in the tower, especially with Thor, is stressing you out. I’ve talked to May, and she said she’d be willing to take you in until summer vacation.”

“You’re… getting rid of me?” Loki says slowly. She has an odd look on her face, part fear, part anger, and part defeat.

“No, of course not,” Tony says. God, he’s bad with kids. Why is he surrounded by so many kids?

Loki gives him a pitying smile. “It certainly seems like you’re getting rid of me.”

Tony sighs. “We’re not going to stop you from coming over. Peter practically lives here, anyway. But you need some space from here, somewhere where you can be a kid for a bit.”

“I’m not a kid,” Loki huffs, in a fight she will absolutely never win.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Tony smirks.

Loki has to admit that she’s not too upset to be going to Aunt May’s. Peter talks about his aunt like she’s made of sunshine. Also, the only adult woman that Loki has been around for a while is Natasha, and Loki is 95% sure Natasha wants to kill her at any given time.

She does, however, not particularly appreciate being shipped off when she became a nuisance. With some luggage packed and Peter at her side, it takes all her willpower to keep from running away. It would be so easy. A drip of sedir, a door through Yggdrasil to another place far away from here.

It would be so easy. Running away has always come naturally to Loki. (Or maybe, Loki kept being thrown into circumstances that required running from.)

Peter unlocks his front door and ushers her in, directing her to drop her suitcase next to the couch. Aunt May bursts through the door leading out of the kitchen and into the living room, flour dusting her face.

She smiles at Peter and Loki. “Sorry for the lousy welcoming committee. I tried baking you a cake.” She gestures down at her coating of flour. “It did not exactly work out.”

Loki smiles slightly. “Thank you for letting me stay with you. I don’t mean to be a burden.”

Before Peter can open his mouth to reassure her, May cuts in.

“You are not a burden.” May’s voice is strong and steady. “Peter’s friends are always welcome here. And children are not burdens. I’m sorry that anyone ever made you think that. But they were wrong.”

Aunt May holds Loki’s eyes until Loki forces herself to look away. Loki knows her mother loved her. It’s one of the few sureties she has. But her mother’s love was quiet, soft. It was daggers on her pillow after Thor made fun of her dislike of broadswords. It was soothing words and gentle magic, a stitch dropped in a tapestry.

She comes to learn that Aunt May and Peter love loudly. They love with inside jokes and horrible movies and bad cooking. Aunt May ruffles Peter’s hair and Peter ducks, even though he’s smiling.

Peter’s home is cozy in a way that Loki’s never was. Loki always surrounded herself with books and papers and anything she’d acquired that looked neat, of course, but the rest of the palace was always spotless. It was beautiful, yes, and luxurious. But it never felt lived in, more house than home.

Peter’s apartment feels lived in. There are half-full boxes of takeout in the fridge and an unfinished puzzle on the coffee table. Peter’s gadgets litter every spare surface next to well-loved books with cracked spines. Loki and Peter sleep in the same room, which Loki has never had to do before, but she finds she rather likes it. It reminds her of the good times on quests — not the hunting or the killing or the chasing — but the sleep-soft breathing that means everyone made it through the day.

Sometimes, when they eat dinner together, Loki closes her eyes and can almost pretend that this is her family.

She misses having a family.

Chapter Text

“So that’s how Ned and I accidentally blew up most of Mr. Stark’s lab,” Peter says. He’s jogging next to Loki, both of them aware that they’re definitely going to be late to school.

Loki smiles at Peter, but her gaze is pulled away by a man standing near the subway entrance. He’s waving a sign and screaming.

“God hates gays!” The man yells. There are a healthy number of people yelling back at him, though the police have set up a barricade protecting him.

Loki stops walking, staring at the man and the counter-protesters. Peter sighs, tries taking her arm to keep walking to the subway.

“What. The. Fuck.” Loki grinds out.

Peter shakes his head. “I’m surprised you haven’t seen someone doing this before. It’s bullshit. Come on.”

They move to pass the group, when the man’s attention snags on Peter and Loki. He looks over Loki, takes in her backpack and smirks.

“Don’t know what you’re going to school for. Women belong in the kitchen.”

Loki stops walking, taking a deep breath.

“Is murder still illegal?” she asks Peter under her breath.

“Unfortunately,” Peter replies. He looks worried, maybe about Loki and maybe about the man.

Loki spin slowly around on her heels. “Okay,” she breathes out. “Want to see how long it takes me to make a grown man cry?”

It takes Loki approximately five minutes to make a grown man cry.

Triumphant, she grabs Peter’s hand and takes the stairs to the subway two at a time. By the time they get into the car, they’re laughing uncontrollably.

“We’re going to be so late,” Loki says.

“I literally couldn’t care less about that,” Peter says. “Did you see his face? It might have been kinder to kill him.”

When they leave the subway to head to Midtown -- and beg the their teachers’ forgiveness for being so late -- both of their phones start buzzing.

Loki slides out her phone.

Stark - 8:03
Why are you like this?
Please stop going viral.
Also -- are you and Peter late for school?

Loki slides her phone back into her pocket and decides to deal with that later.

Chapter Text

Loki is not particularly excited for the school field trip to D.C. for a couple reasons.

Reason 1: Her classmates are still a little bit weird about the whole used-magic-to-stop-domestic-terrorists thing. Added to the fact that she had missed a couple weeks of school for unspecified reasons (aka an identity crisis), her peers are no longer as content to leave her alone as they had been when she was just a new student.

Reason 2: They are going to spend a substantial part of their two days in D.C. at the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum. On a guided tour of the Captain America exhibit. Whom Loki had lived with for half a year.

Reason 3: She won’t admit it to anyone but she has started liking her life on Earth. She likes Peter and Aunt May and Ned and MJ and even some of the Avengers (which is still an objectively stupid group name). She has a routine, a rhythm, and this trip throws her off balance.

Despite her misgivings, she ends up at the bus station with Peter, money, luggage, and strict instructions to “not go viral again, seriously kid, what the fuck."

Loki wonders, sometimes, if this is what her childhood was supposed to be like. Going to a school with other kids, eating shitty museum pizza, being defined by something other than her differences. She knows time doesn’t work like that — she was a teenager when her friends were babies. She will be a teenager when they’re dying. But still, it’s a harmless dream, as far as any of Loki’s dreams have ever been harmless.

“Do you want to try to skip the Captain America exhibit?” Peter whispers, his empty plate pushed aside. He definitely didn’t eat enough for his metabolism, since they’re in public, and Loki makes a mental note to force him to eat more later. “I think it has some mentions of the Battle of New York.”

Loki shudders but shakes her head. She is not that person. She has never been that person, and she never will be.

“It will be fine,” she says. She can’t exactly avoid reminders forever — other-Loki’s actions rippled through Midgard. What other-Loki did is mentioned in every discussion of enhanced people’s rights versus the right of the state. “Besides, I know you want to geek out over the exhibit.”

So Loki follows the rest of her grade into the exhibit, though she tunes out most of the lecture. She knows all this stuff, has had too many gross heart-to-hearts with Steve about being in the wrong time, to learn anything here. Steve has a before-the-ice and an after-the-ice. Loki has a before-the-tower and an after-the-tower.

Loki has made a life here. So has Steve. She doesn’t need any more of his past than he has already shared.

Loki is good at slipping away. She finds a mostly-empty corner of the exhibit and pulls out a book from her backpack.

Loki is good at multitasking. Every couple seconds, she scans the room. She keeps track of the lecturer, the teachers, her peers. When they get near enough, she knows she will have to reintegrate with the group.

Loki is good at patterns. After all, isn’t that what stories are? She’s good at patterns and cadence and faces. So when she scans the room and sees someone who almost choked her to death, once, she tenses.

She knows she should call Tony right now. But there are people around them — not only Loki’s friends, but other innocents — and Loki doesn’t want anyone to die today. She knows it’s not the best idea she’s ever had, knows it’s not clever or planned or particularly safe. But she has a feeling that, just this once, that might be okay.

So she slides up next to the man, watches him tense out of the corner of her eye.

“Doing some research?” She asks innocently. “Lots of students around today.”

The man looks at her and looks away. His eyes look like bruises under his hood, his fists shoved in sweatshirt pockets. Smart, Loki thinks. Hiding that metal arm.

Loki, too, has done her research. She knows that the Winter Soldier is Bucky Barnes. That this man is featured throughout the exhibit, in sketches and stories. That he was a huge part of Steve’s before. That Steve is heartbroken of what happened in Bucky’s after.

Loki can see when the pieces click together for the man. It’s not that he reacts — no, it’s how he doesn’t. How he goes just a smidge more still than he was before. So minuscule that some might not even notice. But Loki notices. Loki always notices.

“You were a boy,” the man says.

“I do that sometimes,” Loki shrugs.

The man sighs. Loki does not know what to call him. His body is Bucky’s, of course. But he might still be the Soldier. “What are you doing here?” Barnes asks.

“I wasn’t lying when I said there are lots of students around today,” Loki says. “I happen to be one of them.” She cocks her head. “What about you?”

“I am doing research,” the man says. “Just of a less nefarious kind than you suspect.” Barnes’s lips twist slightly upward at his own joke, and Loki sees the man he might have once been. One who made Steve laugh. One who Steve spent hours drawing.

He looks at Loki again, up and down, then raises an eyebrow. “You don’t look like much of a prisoner.”

“You don’t look like much of an asset,” Loki retorts.

To Loki’s surprise, the man laughs at the jab.

Loki knows she is making monumentally stupid decisions today. But hey, it always works out for Thor. It’s Loki’s turn to be impulsive and headstrong.

“Steve mentions you,” Loki says. She’s hedging her bets — whatever is going on in this man’s head is different than when they met in the Tower. He seems grounded, human. Loki knows better than to judge people based on what they did under duress. “He mentions you a lot.”

A small shudder runs through Barnes. “I’ve done terrible things.”

Loki sighs. “Haven’t we all?”

Chapter Text

“You had ONE JOB!” Tony yells over the phone. “One!”

“Technically,” Loki says, “you told me not to go viral again. You said nothing about approaching a brainwashed supersoldier and swaying him to the side of good through the power of gay love.”

To Loki’s side, Barnes lets out a surprised laugh.

“I didn’t think I’d have to tell you not to do that! Why would you need specific instructions about that!”

Loki shrugs. “I don’t know. We live in strange times.”

“Sorry, Mr. Stark.” Peter says from behind Loki, who moves over so Peter can join her in huddling over the phone. They’re still in the Captain America exhibit, having stayed when their classmates went on ahead.

“Where were you during this, Peter?” Tony asks carefully. Loki is 95% sure he is calculating how likely it is that Aunt May is going to kill him.

“Oh, I was over on the bench,” Peter says. “Listening to the lecture.”

Tony sighs over the phone. “I’ll be there with a Quinjet in an hour. I’m assuming Barnes is turning himself in, due to the lack of screaming and murder on your end?”

“I will only turn myself in to Steve. No one else.” Bucky says, flesh hand clenched by his side.

“You drive a hard bargain for a wanted assassin,” Tony says.

“I am fully aware that HYDRA infiltrated SHIELD a couple years ago. I repeat: I will only turn myself in if Steve is present.”

Loki has no doubt that Barnes will be gone in the wind if his request is denied. Loki is about to step in when Tony sighs.

“That can be arranged. Peter, Elle, I know you have a school thing, but can one of you stay with Barnes until we get there?”

“I can,” Loki says quickly. “Actually, do you think I could come back with you? We’re supposed to fly home tonight anyway.”

“Why?” Tony asks. Loki can visualize his eyes narrowing in thought. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Loki’s voice lowers. “It’s just that I’ve been feeling more boy-adjacent today and I think I might claw off my skin if I have to present as female for much longer.”

“Shit,” Tony says eloquently. “Yeah, I’ll call your teacher in a moment. Peter, can you make sure Loki’s stuff gets back to New York?”

“Of course,” Peter says.

The man who was once James Bucky Barnes tucks his notebook full of memories into his back pocket. He and Loki wait, surrounded by a shine to a time long gone, and get ready to face the future.