Chapter Text
When Stiles and Steve brought Bucky back to the tower, Stiles was relieved that Nat understood the seriousness of the fragile situation.
She had shepherded Tony out of the building because that man could be as subtle as a brick, and Bucky truly couldn't use any shit right now. He was walking around with wide eyes and almost growling at the high-tech shit that was all around him. Stiles could guess why Bucky was so averse to the technology around him.
Bruce was with Lydia, and Clint was still at his safe house.
Fury had left the building as soon as he could walk again and had yet to return, so Stiles was not expecting him soon.
Now they were back home, and Stiles breathed a sigh of relief. He had missed the Avengers Tower.
''Welcome to your new home,'' He says softly to Bucky. Bucky was looking around, clearly taking in the room and the escape routes. Stiles had been the same when he had just reached New York, still a bit in shock over everything that had happened to him.
Stiles didn't want to hover, but- well, he could see that Bucky would not be okay with only Steve in the room. He looked downright ready to bolt.
It stressed Stiles out like nothing else. But - his mother always had the best way of dealing with stress.
''Does anyone want brownies?'' He blurted out, gaining the attention of two supersoldiers who looked at him like he had grown a second head.
''Brownies are an awesome idea-'' He started babbling while striding to the kitchen and putting on an apron before pulling open the cabinets for ingredients. He started mixing the ingredients while also keeping an eye on the uncomfortable supersoldiers. Stiles knew this recipe entirely out of his head, it never failed him, and he always got fond memories of his mother when he was making this. He saw that Steve and Bucky both had taken a seat at the kitchen island, watching Stiles bake and listening to him ramble. Slowly, they relaxed some more, and Stiles was truly glad for the change in atmosphere.
After about half an hour, Nat returned with Tony, but it seemed like she had tamed him a bit because he leaned against the countertop, listening and watching Stiles after kissing Steve. Bucky's eyes had widened, but a small smile had played on his lips which made Steve only blush more.
Stiles was still holding a steady flow of chatter when Bruce and Lydia walked in.
''Are you making your brownies?'' Lydia asked with her eyes full of hope before she glanced at Bucky. He was watching her, too, before dismissing her as a non-threat, a crucial mistake if you ask Stiles.
Lydia took one look at Bucky, then looked pointedly at Stiles with raised eyebrows. Stiles faltered in his talk about some stupid mission he had been on for the FBI, and his expression hardened.
''Don't you dare.'' He says in an icy tone. Bucky stiffens, but Stiles doesn't see it. Steve does and hesitantly puts a careful hand on Bucky's arm before starting to guide him out of the kitchen. Sensing the tension rise, he wants Bucky out of that volatile environment. Stiles is glad that Bucky isn't here, he doesn't know how the assassin would react to explosive surroundings, and Lydia and Stiles could become quite - destructive if they wanted to. Literally.
Tony and Nat are watching Stiles and Lydia like a tennis match, and Stiles is pretty sure they would start eating popcorn if possible.
A fight between Lydia and Stiles was rare, and they both knew Lydia and Stiles pretty well by now, but they didn't understand why Stiles reacted this angry toward Lydia when she hadn't even said a word to earn it.
Bruce felt the tension and took a deep breath before sitting on Steve's abandoned stool. He pulled a bowl of remaining batter to him. Knowing Lydia as he did and having gotten to know Stiles from stories and real life, he knew you shouldn't interrupt them.
''Something you want to share, Stiles?'' Lydia asks with her arms crossed and her hip cocked. Stiles pursed his lips for a moment, his mind flashing back to his teenage years, where she had pulled up an act to keep anyone at a distance.
''Nothing comes to mind,'' Stiles says casually, also crossing his arms as a defense mechanism and pursing his lips in annoyance. It irritated him that she could get a rise out of him this easily.
But maybe that's just a skill if you're best friends. If you know everything about each other, you know where to push to make it hurt.
She seemed to ponder for a moment, her finger tapping against her pouty lip in contemplation, but she wasn't fooling Stiles with the casual display. She had seen something more when looking at Bucky, and he didn't know if it was related to her Banshee core or just her regular Lydia-ness.
With what he had learned from the Winter Soldiers' past, it could be both.
''So you want to tell me I didn't just meet another dark-haired, broody, snarky, beautiful man that looks at you like you hung the moon.'' Her eyes narrow, and Stiles's nostrils flare. This. This was dangerous territory, and she fucking knew it.
''Fuck you, Lydia.'' He says with venom lacing his voice. Lydia doesn't even react. She was expecting it, but Nat, Bruce, Tony, and fucking JARVIS (of all AIs), gasped.
Everyone knows you don't curse at Lydia Martin and walk away without damage.
But Lydia knows Stiles, and Stiles knows Lydia. Stiles is the only one alive that can get away with this.
Lydia takes Stiles in from head to toe. ''Are you ready for this?''
Stiles scrunches up his face, ready to retort, to lash out, but then his shoulders sag, and the fight leaves him. Is he ready for whatever Lydia saw? He doesn't know. He only knows that a heavily damaged man is now under his care because he will be damned to leave others to it.
''I don't know what you mean.'' He denies, and a couple of seconds later, he has his arms full of a petite strawberry-blonde woman.
Lydia sighs heavily against him. ''You are a complete disaster of a human being.''
''I resent that comment-'' Stiles mumbles before frowning. ''What did you mean he looked at me like I hung the moon?''
Lydia slaps him on the back of the head and rolls her eyes.
''Oblivious asshole.'' She grumbles before looking at the oven. ''Your brownies are burning.''
''SHIT!'' Stiles yelps, and he quickly takes out the batch while he hears Tony fake whisper behind him.
''I think I just got more afraid of them.''
Bruce nods very seriously in agreement, but he's still licking the batter from the bowl. ''They are going to rule the world.''
Stiles snorts before turning to the remaining Avengers. ''Puh-lease. My evil laugh is not good enough. I let the 'taking over the world agenda' to Pepper and Lydia.''
He gets solemn nods from everyone and another roll of her eyes from Lydia.
''Did you just call my laugh evil enough to take over the world, Stiles?'' Pepper's voice sounds from the entrance. Stiles yelps and decides that he has had enough. He grabs a tray of brownies and runs out of the room to find the two super soldiers. Laughter follows him, but he ignores it.
*
The next day Stiles wants to start fixing Bucky's head. Or at least they attempt to start.
''Steve, you know I love you man, but seriously, stop hovering.'' Stiles huffs when Bucky tenses again when Steve only as much as shifts on his chair.
''I should be here.'' Steve insists, and Stiles groans and looks up at the ceiling. They are in one of the padded rooms designed for the Hulk, not that Bruce ever lets the Green man go, but Tony had been thorough with furnishing the tower for the Avengers.
''No, you don't have to be here. To be honest, I don't want you here. You're freaking me out.'' Stiles says bluntly.
The outraged expression on Steve's face brings a smirk to Stiles's face. From the corner of his eye, he sees Bucky take a relieved breath.
''Go, no, no, shush-'' Stiles says while holding up a finger to Steve, who was ready to interrupt. ''You are blocking my magic ju-ju and my will to live, so get the fuck out so I can actually help Buckaroo here, and you will see him in about three hours,'' Stiles says while shaking his hands in a jazz hands fashion and smiling brightly at the first avenger.
''Stiles!'' Steve hisses, outraged, but then Bucky bursts out in laughter, and Steve and Stiles are so shocked that the anger drains out of Steve.
Steve is silent for a couple of moments, just watching Bucky as if he's afraid the man will disappear. But then he seems to give in reluctantly.
''Fine, but if something is wrong, yell for me, and I will come.'' He looks at Bucky as he says this, and the man nods with a skeptical look.
As soon as Steve walks out of the room, Stiles switches to Russian.
''He's still listening at the door, isn't he?''
Bucky seems startled for a moment before shaking his head with a barely-there smile. ''Yes, he is. He doesn't seem like a guy that gives up soon.'' At that, he frowns as if his memories are trying to tell him something, and Stiles only hums in agreement, not wanting to push Bucky into dangerous territory.
''Shall we start? Or do you want to talk first about what you remember?''
Bucky grimaces, ''Do I have to talk?''
''Yes, and it can be with me, or I will ask my Psychiatrist to come so you can talk with her. She has helped me a lot.''
Bucky is still grimacing, and Stiles chuckles. ''It's okay, really, she doesn't judge, and she is a professional. She knows about the supernatural world, and-''
''I'll think about it,'' Bucky says and glances away. Stiles nods, knowing how difficult it is to start with the treatment, especially that first step.
Stiles holds out his hands next to Bucky's head. ''Ready?''
Bucky seems to steel himself before nodding and closing his eyes. When Stiles makes contact with Bucky's head, his metal arm shoots out and grips Stiles's wrist hard.
''Still okay?'' Stiles sounds unfazed, he was used to wolves, and they have claws. He doesn't exactly tremble in his boots from an ex-assassin. Even if he knows Bucky can probably kill him within seconds.
Bucky takes a deep breath before nodding again, his hand doesn't leave Stiles's wrist, though, but Stiles doesn't see a problem with that right now.
His magic pulses out of him, ready to be used, eager even. It's different than when he untangled Loki's mind or Bruce's from the scepter's / stone's influence.
If Stiles wanted to explain it better, he would explain it as if the influence on Loki had been a tumor he needed to cut out and could be cut out cleanly without leaving anything.
With Bucky, it seems like he has been operated a hundred times before, and as if there is scar tissue everywhere. It needs to be handled with care and slowly. If he goes too quickly through Bucky's already damaged mind, he might lose him entirely to the Winter Solder without Bucky having a chance ever to peek out.
So carefully, Stiles uses his magic to soften the sharp edges in Bucky's mind, hoping it will give him peace. Mostly he hopes Bucky will feel less on edge all the time. He still needs help, Stiles knows this will not be an easy fix, but he hopes to make it better - easier for Bucky.
He doesn't know for how long he has focused his magic on Bucky's mind, but it's dark outside when he opens his eyes again. He feels a bit dizzy, but using this kind of magic for a long time is tiring, so he isn't surprised.
He slowly pulls his hands away, but Bucky's hand is still around his wrist, so he leaves it, hovering a bit awkwardly. Thankfully, it isn't painful anymore. And to be honest, he can use it as an anchor for this moment.
''Bucky?'' He says softly, and the man shudders before opening his eyes.
''Call me James,'' Buc- no , James responds immediately in a raw voice. At first, Stiles feels sad that James doesn't want Stiles to use his nickname from Steve. But James is already shaking his head as if he's reading Stiles's mind.
''It doesn't feel good to be called someone I no longer am,'' James explains simply with a bit of detachment. Stiles doesn't think it is entirely healthy, but with his own coping mechanism being all over the place, he doesn't think he has a right to judge, so he won't.
''How do you feel, James?'' He asks softly, not wanting to startle the man, who still seems a bit lost in his own mind.
The man in question frowns and seems to think about it so he can give an honest answer.
''It's still jumbled in places.'' He then closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them, he looks back at Stiles. ''It isn't going to be easy, is it?''
Stiles shakes his head, and he bites his lip. He hates the fact that he can't offer a simple solution. He doesn't want Bu-James, or anyone to suffer like this. ''No, it won't be easy. I do like to think it helped you, and if I did it correctly, your memories and feelings will feel less intense to you.''
James nods his head. ''I feel a bit-'' He seems to taste the word for a moment before speaking. ''-softened, as if it's dulled.'' He then scrunches up his nose at Stiles. ''It feels a bit when I tried some Asthma drugs from Steve when I was fourteen.'' He says, and Stiles snorts, not wanting to focus on the huge BOMB James just dropped about remembering that piece of information just like that!
But Stiles feels ecstatic that James remembered something from when he was fourteen like that!
Stiles smiles. ''Good to hear. Now on to the not-so-pleasant part. I still think you should talk with someone about everything. It will help you in other ways.''
Stiles knows it helps. He has endured it and can honestly say that without Maria, he wouldn't be here.
James scowls but nods nonetheless. ''You said that it was your shrink you wanted to introduce me to, right?''
Stiles nods again. ''Yes, I still talk with her, I try to go once a week, but lately, that wasn't exactly possible.'' He rubs his hands through his hair. Still conscious of the fact that his other hand is still pinned at the wrist by James's metal hand.
''How does it help you?'' James asks seriously, and Stiles grimaces.
''She mostly shows me that it wasn't my fault.''
James frowns at Stiles. ''You told me you were possessed.'' He murmurs, and Stiles sighs but nods.
''I was. Maria truly helped me see that I wasn't to blame and that it wasn't my fault so many people died, but most of all, she helped me understand that it wasn't my fault my father died.'' That was the main reason Stiles still felt like everything was his fault.
If he had never dragged Scott to the woods that night, none of this would've happened. He grimaces at his own thoughts.
''Your father also died when you were possessed?'' James asks with an expression that tells him he knows what it feels like to lose people you love.
Stiles shakes his head before glancing pointedly at James's metal hand. James immediately lets go, seemingly startled that he is still holding Stiles's wrist, and coughs before combing his hand through his hair.
Stiles chuckles and walks to the door indicating for James to follow him.
Steve isn't pacing the hallway, thank god, and they make their way to the balcony, where Stiles lights a cigarette before asking if James wants one too.
They smoke together, and Stiles tells him about his father, how he died, and how Stiles took revenge.
''You see, I still think that if I had gone to his house or would have put up more of a fight with my Alpha, he would still be alive if I had just killed her before she killed my father-'' Stiles stops speaking again taking a deep drag from the cigarette in his hand and letting the smoke fill his lungs.
''You couldn't have known that,'' James says matter of factly.
''I know, but-'' Stiles huffs a laugh while looking at James, ''I know it wasn't my fault, but that doesn't change how I feel about it. I still feel terrible, it still feels like it is my fault, and yes, it's different now, but that feeling will not go away just like that. I am working on it with Maria, and you will need to work on it, too, so do not just sit there in therapy and saying nothing until you are free to go. You really need to work for it.'' Stiles says while raising his eyebrows knowingly.
James grimaces, something Stiles already expected.
He then sighs. ''I remember every single one of the people I killed during my possession, even if it wasn't my will to kill them. It was my body. When I woke up, one of the first things I did was write out a list with names, and now when I have been unconscious for a while, I recite those names to myself. Or when I'm lost in a panic attack, it helps calm me down. Because if I can survive that and come out of it to help people, I know I'll be fine. Eventually.'' He tells the man honestly.
James nods. ''I don't remember everything, but I will try to be better.'' He says eventually, and Stiles claps him on the shoulder.
''That's all we could ever ask of you.''
*
Living with the Avengers is weird if you ask Stiles. There are a lot more movie nights than he ever expected for one.
And everyone has something to say about your training regime.
''Seriously, if you don't let me do my thing, I will-'' Stiles makes a wringing gesture with his hands while Happy just looks unimpressed, and Tony just taps away on his phone.
''Your thing? The thing where you sit and stare at the wall for twenty minutes before giving up? Come on, we all know that you are trying to stay awake. But if you let me train you in boxing-'' Happy trails off, and Stiles scoffs.
He can take Happy easily. He's a trained agent and has magic, for god sake! He has fought with werewolves, vampires, pixies, witches, just name it!
''I am focusing on my magic, so I don't blow up the building when I do start my physical training, but sure, let's go with the assessment that I'm trying to stay awake.'' Stiles snarks back.
Happy scoffs and pushes Stiles into the boxing ring. Stiles notices Nat walking into the room with a smirk. She probably heard from Clint that this was happening and can't wait for Happy to see how capable Stiles truly is.
''He does know that you trained with me, right?'' Natasha asks in Russian while Stiles watches Clint drop from the vents. Stiles knew the archer called Nat as soon as he saw this happening from his observation place.
''No, he does not,'' Stiles replies with a smirk aimed at the redhead.
Natasha looks very amused, while Happy looks between them as if trying to figure out what was said.
Tony looks up and looks between Happy and Stiles before stating. ''Hundred on Misschief.''
''That's a sucker bet.'' Clint declares while shooting arrows at the targets on the other side of the training room without even looking at them.
Happy looks disgruntled but ready. Stiles sighs before taking a defensive position. ''You can still back out,''
Happy grunts. ''No magic.''
Stiles nods in agreement before ducking under Happy's swing, using his long legs to kick out Happy's leg, making him crash to the ground.
Stiles looks at the grumbling man with a slight smirk. ''Rematch?''
''No, it's clear that you all are above us simple humans.'' Happy grumbles, but Stiles can tell that he doesn't mean it as an insult.
Stiles chuckles and helps the man up from his lying position. At that moment, Steve and James walk in. They are slowly working on their relationship, and James is doing well in therapy. Stiles still uses his magic two times a week on James's head, and more memories from before the war are coming back. Unfortunately, the memories from his time as the Winter Soldier are coming back too.
They are challenging to deal with for James, something nobody can fault him, but he is working on it, and he looks much healthier since he has come to stay with them.
Steve sees them in the boxing ring and smiles. ''Are we sparring?''
Tony immediately goes to Steve and gives him a soft kiss. ''Nobody wants to spar with you. It's entirely unfair unless we suddenly have a huge armor the size of the Hulk.'' Tony immediately gets a faraway look in his eyes and starts typing. Completely distracted within his own mind.
Steve frowns, and if you ask Stiles, he's pouting. When he looks at James, he sees the same amusement on his face.
''If I can use my magic, I think I can take him.'' Stiles muses, gaining the attention of the rest of the room.
Steve starts to laugh. ''With your magic, I'm no match, you could freeze me, and I couldn't fight against that.'' He replies with a smile.
Stiles shrugs, but he does agree with Steve. He could levitate him, and Steve would be like a fish on dry land, not able to do anything.
''I have only seen you use mind magic. What else can you do?'' James asks, and Stiles's attention switches to the dark-haired man, as is common ever since James came to the tower and whenever they are in the same room. Stiles's attention almost always goes to the former Winter Soldier.
Clint starts to chuckle, ''the question is more what he can't do. I've seen him change his appearance with just a wave of his hand when he went undercover.''
James seems impressed and shoots an inquiring look at Stiles.
He shrugs, feeling a bit bashful under those blue eyes.
''I don't really know where my powers end. I have learned a lot from Loki, but I really don't know the extent of it all. My powers work on belief, so if I believe it's possible-'' He shrugs while scratching the back of his head, letting the statement sink in.
''Can you fly?'' Tony asks suddenly, tilting his head in question.
Stiles scoffs. ''Of course I can, dude. Flying is like one of the easiest things.''
To prove it, he lets himself levitate, showing the others that, yes, it's possible. He didn't tell them that he trained a lot with Loki and Frigga for this.
''Can you spar with me without your magic? I'm curious about what you can do.'' James suddenly asks, and Stiles swallows heavily. James has avoided everything with fighting since he came to live with them. Sure, James trains in the gym, but mostly with weights and cardio. He avoids the parts where he knows he needs to throw a punch.
''Of course, dude, I'll be happy to fight you,'' Stiles says, almost missing the bet placing from Clint and Nat in sign language, Stiles isn't fluent, but he does see Nat placing a bet against him. Bitch.
''Are you sure, Bu-James?'' Steve asks a bit nervously. Stiles subtly turns away, not wanting anyone to show the scowl on his face. Steve is still struggling with James being called James instead of Bucky and is treating the man as a child instead of his best friend. James doesn't want nor needs gloves to be handled. He doesn't even want to be handled. He just wants to be his own person. While making his own decisions and mistakes along with it.
Stiles understands that need, but Steve can't let him go at all. Something that is seriously getting on Stiles's nerves.
''Come on, James, I'm going to beat your ass seven ways to Sunday, and I will forever be supreme overlord!'' Stiles says with a fake evil cackle, getting a laugh from everyone else.
He gets in the ring, a bit nervous, but he tries to hide it. The smirk James is giving him is not helping at all for his nerves.
They stand in front of each other, and when Tony gives the sound of a fake gong, James immediately approaches. Stiles analyses him as much as possible while ducking his advances. James is quicker than he thought he would be with his bulk, but Stiles is lean and faster. He tries to use it to his advantage but isn't surprised to get some blows.
But James is holding back, so much so, that it's becoming some kind of handicap. Stiles understands, of course, because James is holding back with hitting with his metal arm. Maybe he's afraid to hurt Stiles with it, or perhaps it's something else. For now, Stiles is going to take advantage of it.
He throws himself on the floor when James tries to hit him with his metal arm, the action slow in itself, well, slow enough for Stiles. With his back on the floor, he kicks out his legs and wraps them around James's before rolling and taking James to the floor. James is now face down on the floor, and Stiles immediately surges up and straddles James before putting his head in a headlock.
Stiles is a bit panting when he asks ''Give?''
James doesn't respond for a moment before he goes lack and nods.
Stiles loosens his arms, and his surroundings come back to him. He's still seated on James's back when he lets out an awkward chuckle. He goes to rub the back of his head, having not expected to get James to the ground, when James suddenly bucks up and brings Stiles under him within a second.
''Always pay attention for sneak attacks,'' James whispers in his ear, his breathing a bit faster, and Stiles flushes.
This, well, this was unexpected.
''You are a cheating cheater who cheats,'' Stiles replies, trying to will away his flushed cheeks and the flutter in his stomach.
''Called it!'' They hear, and they both startle from Nat's outburst. They had completely forgotten where they were and who had been in the room with them. James scrambles up from where he had Stiles pinned and laughs.
Stiles needs a moment, just a moment, to focus a bit on what the actual fuck just happened.
He takes James's hand, and James pulls him up. When they let go of each other, their hands linger, but they are both a bit awkward, not knowing how to respond to each other for a moment. That is until Stiles's phone rings.
He startles and flails for a moment before jumping down and getting his phone. He frowns at the number before sighing and picking up.
''Agent McCall, how can I help you?'' Stiles asks, slipping into the formal responses he used when he was still with the bureau.
''Stilinski, how are you?'' Raphael had warmed up to him after learning about the supernatural and working with Stiles and the FBI on several cases.
''Fine, sir-'' Stiles doesn't know if Raphael knows about his leaving Beacon Hills, even if it has been almost two years now. ''Good to hear. Listen, I could use your expertise. Can you come to South Dakota? I think there have been those cannibal monster things here, but I can't be sure.''
Stiles grimaces, he hates Wendigo's, and they are rarely alone.
He breathes out a big breath. ''You know I don't work for an agency at the moment, Raph. This would be a freelancing job. Can the CIA work with that?''
He sees the others perk up at this, now clearly interested in what Stiles is doing calling with the CIA of all agencies.
''You can always come work for us, Stiles. Just say the word,'' Agent McCall responds, and Stiles rolls his eyes.
''Yeah, no, thanks. If the CIA is fine with it, I can be a consultant on this case. Do you have any ideas about how many Wendigos we're talking about? And you should know that I can't take any prisoners.''
''At least two, I already lost an agent, Stiles, so I'm fine with whatever. How fast can you be here?''
Stiles looks up at Tony. ''Can I borrow a jet?''
Tony frowns at him. ''Yessssss, but Misschief, if you even think you're going alone in this-''
''I'm going with him.'' James suddenly says, making everyone blink.
Stiles frowns. ''You all don't have any experience with Wendigos. I'm not taking any of you with me.'' He states, making it clear this isn't an option.
James juts out his chin in a stubborn expression. ''You're wrong in that, Stiles. With HYDRA, I've had to work with those monsters. I am quick enough and know where to hit to stop them. I am not going to let you go alone.''
Stiles blinks for a moment before sighing.
''Fine, but you'll listen to me, or I'll kick you off the plane,'' He turns back to his phone to tell McCall he'll be there with backup within six hours.
''Can someone explain to me what Wendigos are?'' Happy asked while Steve looked like he wanted to ask the same thing.
''They are maneating shapeshifters. There is probably a coven in South Dakota. Otherwise, McCall wouldn't have called me. His team usually can handle themselves,'' Stiles explained with a shrug.
''You said you couldn't take any prisoners. Why not?'' Steve asked with his arms crossed and a frown on his face, a stance Scott always had when he didn't agree with Stiles. Stiles flinched and was surprised when James answered Steve.
''When they have tasted human flesh, they get an insatiable hunger, they can't stop eating, and the things they eat are flesh and blood of humans. You cannot fix them and can only stop them by killing them.'' James stated firmly.
''Why don't we know about these things?'' Tony asked incredulously. ''You would say that if people disappear ala Hannibal Lecter, you'll expect some kind of news.''
Stiles rubs his hands over his face. ''It's the supernatural. They mostly clean up after themselves. It won't surprise me if there isn't a pack where we're going. The were-packs try to police the supernatural themselves in their territory. And if something happens that too many people find out about the supernatural, the Hunt comes in.'' Stiles tells them before his frame wracks with a shiver, thinking back about being forgotten.
''What does that mean, Misschief?'' Nat asks softly. Seeing clearly that Stiles is upset about whatever this 'Hunt' is.
''The Hunt kidnap you and make sure you'll be forgotten if you don't play according to their rules. When I was taken, my father even forgot who I was.'' Stiles says silently. ''They erase you from footage, pictures, minds . The only reason I'm standing here is Lydia. With her Banshee powers, she remembered me.''
They are all gaping at him, and for the moment, he can't take it. He needs to get out of here.
''I'm going to go pack. James, I'll see you in thirty minutes on the roof. Tony, can you make the jet ready?'' He gets a nod from both men before he flees the room. Just before the door closes behind him, he hears Tony say, ''I love it when he gets bossy. It gets me all warm and fuzzy,''
Stiles can't help but chuckle. His mood a bit lightened because of Tony.
*
''GET DOWN!'' James yells before opening fire on the fifth Wendigo they encountered.
Stiles is beyond pissed. He knows McCall couldn't have known, but why the hell isn't there a fucking pack on these lands?
The lands are clearly magical and should have had protectors since the beginning. Now there is a coven of Wendigos who are eating their way through the wildlife and humans alike. And they have yet to find out how many there are!
Stiles freezes the next Wendigo before decapitating the thing. The head falls to the floor with a sickening thud, but Stiles ignores it. His back is leaning against James's, and they are both silent for the moment, looking around for a new threat.
''I think it's clear for the moment,'' Stiles whispers before taking a step deeper into the cave. They silently make their way further, Stiles is seriously impressed by how silently James can move, but he isn't surprised with his history as the Winter Soldier.
They get deeper into the cave, and Stiles just knows that they aren't alone. He tries to make a plan before his attention snaps to a whimpering mess in the corner.
He makes his way over, ignoring James' hiss of warning.
''Are you okay?'' Stiles whispers, only to stumble back when the small child attacks him with a big mouth full of sharp teeth. He blasts the child away from himself and decapitates it without further ado.
''Stiles-'' James's softly spoken words have him turn around immediately, only to curse when he sees James with claws against his throat and an arm locked around his waist.
The Wendigo behind James is clearly the leader, he's bigger, and his eyes are more intelligent than the others they have encountered.
''Let him go,'' Stiles says slowly, holding up his hands as if in surrender.
The Wendigo chuckles and leans down to sniff at James's shoulder. ''No, I think not.''
Stiles's eyes flash, afraid of what will happen to James, he needs to do something, and he needs to do it fast! Suddenly for some stupid reason, Twilight shoots through his head. With a shake of his head, he grimaces when his idea forms. He gets out his knife slowly before slashing open his palm. He shoots a meaningful look at James, who is looking at him with wide eyes.
''Hey! Bigfoot!'' Stiles waves around his bloody hand. ''Dinner time! Come and get me!'' Stiles yells before dashing away. The roar he hears behind him tells him that the Wendigo is indeed following him and has let go of James. He makes it to the next chamber before he curses and ducks just in time to evade being slashed to ribbons by the Wendigo that was lying in wait for him.
The blood on his hand gets her attention immediately, and she attacks with just one thing in her mind. The leader dashes in, too, and Stiles freezes them both before slashing off their heads. Just seconds later, a frantic James darts in with his gun raised. When he sees the threat is gone, he makes a beeline for Stiles and checks him over for wounds.
''That was a fucking stupid thing to do.'' James snarls.
''Ah, yes, but it did work, didn't it?'' Stiles replies a little cheekily, hoping to take the edge of James' anger.
James glowers at him, and Stiles falters a bit. He really hopes James isn't mad at him. Or at least isn't going to stay mad at him.
Then suddenly, he's engulfed in a big hug.
For a moment, he freezes before he hugs the man back. ''I was worried,'' James says softly, so softly that Stiles isn't sure that the words were meant for him.
''Me too when you were at claw point.''
James lets him go but keeps looking at him, his eyes darting over Stiles's face as if looking for something, and just when Stiles thinks James is going to say something, Stiles's phone rings, and they both startle out of their silent staring.
Stiles takes a deep breath before answering. ''Yeah?''
''Are you okay? You missed check-in,'' McCall says on the other end, sounding a bit worried.
''There were complications. We are still in the cave, and we have encountered nine Wendigos. We have stopped the leader but still need to comb through the rest to see if we can find remains or others.''
McCall curses on the other side of the line. ''I'm so sorry, Stiles. We truly didn't know there would be that many.''
''I expect to be paid at least triple,'' Stiles says jokingly, only to choke when McCall agrees easily.
He ends the call when McCall doesn't relent and goes through the rest of the cave with James by his side. Thankfully they don't encounter any more Wendigos. They do encounter a room full of remains that smells like death and decay.
After the debrief, he lets the CIA deal with everything inside that fucking cave and mostly just wants to go home and take a shower for about an hour.
When they are back on the plane, Stiles is almost shocked to hear James speak. He had been silent ever since his phone call with Raph, and Stiles tried not to think too much about the feeling of James' arms around him-
Yeah, not thinking about that was going swell.
''How many encounters have you had with Wendigos?'' James asks.
Stiles grimaces. ''Too many. The first was when I was seventeen. It-it was the first time I killed after my possession.''
James is shaking his head in dismay. ''Seventeen. Jezus, you were just a kid!''
Stiles chuckles humorlessly. ''I haven't been a kid for a long time, James.''
They are silent again for a moment before Stiles tries a question. ''You said you needed to work with Wendigos for HYDRA. Did you have many encounters?''
James kept silent for a moment, so Stiles assumed he didn't want to talk about it.
''HYDRA was keeping multiple creatures all over the world. For a couple of missions, they send the Winter Solder to- well to capture them.'' He says, sounding miserable.
Stiles shoots him a worried glance and sees James's eyes almost glazed, a sign that he is almost lost in his memories. Stiles puts the jet on autopilot for a moment before kneeling in front of James. He takes his hands and looks him in the eye, squeezing a bit to get James out of his memories.
It works after a couple of moments, and James heaves in a deep breath.
''Do you remember where they have been brought?'' Stiles suddenly asks, trying to get James's thoughts back on track.
James seems to think about it before nodding slowly. ''A couple at least.''
''Maybe we can help them, get them out. Maybe it will help you feel some redemption.'' Stiles proposes, and James huffs a bit amused before squeezing Stiles's hands.
''I would like that if we do that together.''
Stiles gulps from the intense look James is giving him, and he nods. ''Together.''
James smiles down at him, and it's almost blinding in its sincerity. ''Yeah, together,''
Stiles ducks his head with a blush. He's startled out of his awkwardly kneeling when the autopilot demands some kind of attention, and he focuses back on flying.
And if he glances at James a couple of times only to catch his eye, well, nobody has to know.
*
Stiles and James walk into the common room while talking happily, only to stop dead at the sight in front of them.
''You-'' Stiles stutters out.
''Me!'' Loki beams, he fucking beams at him. ''Missed me, love?'' Loki dares to say while waggling his eyebrows at Stiles.
Without a second to think about it, he forms a purple fireball in his hand and throws it at Loki as hard as possible.
''You FUCKING BASTARD!'' Stiles bellows. He throws another fireball, and Loki ducks again.
''Well, that isn't very nice,'' Loki says, trying to sound calm but clearly losing his cool when he sees Stiles gather magic in his hand again.
''Stiles, Darling! I thought you would be happy to see me again!'' Loki tries to plead, only to duck again for another fireball.
''Happy?! Happy!? I mourned you! Thor mourned you! YOUR MOTHER MOURNED YOU! And you dare to appear in front of me thinking I would be happy?'' His magic is crackling around him, and Stiles doesn't care if he blows the entire room out of the tower at this moment. He only cares about hurting Loki as much as possible. The fucking bastard!
''Death doesn't happen to you, Loki! It happens to those left behind! How dare you exploit that grief!? What did you do? Huh?''
Loki glances around, trying to find an out, but Thor is clearly also still mad at him for 'dying', and the other Avengers are clearly on Stiles's side on this, even if they are looking worried about what the anger is doing to the little mage.
Loki can taste the magic that is filling the room, the enticing flavor of Stiles's unique brand of magic, if he weren't afraid for his life, he would revel in it. But as it is, he needs to worry for his life.
''Stiles-'' He tries again, only to fling himself to the floor to evade another ball of energy.
''Stiles, names.'' A voice suddenly interrupts. Loki looks up to see the dark-haired man that walked in with Stiles now standing in front of him. Blocking Stiles's view of Loki.
Stiles doesn't respond, and Loki truly doesn't know what the man meant by 'names.'
''Stiles-'' The man insists again, and Loki sees Stiles's eyes focus on the dark-haired man in front of him now. ''-Names, all of them.'' He practically commands, and to Loki's shock, the magic wades back to Stiles when he starts speaking.
They sound like random names to Loki, but it seems like this man knows what Stiles is saying. A wave of jealousy hits him, but even he knows that he has no right to claim Stiles as his after what he did.
The magic is gone from the room, and Loki hesitantly climbs up. Everyone in the room is staring at Stiles, who is still looking at the man in front of him as if he is a ship and the man his anchor.
Loki bites his tongue, not wanting to draw attention to himself. Not while Stiles still can be volatile to him.
Then as if Stiles can read his mind, his eyes shift to locate Loki.
''At this moment, I have nothing to say to you. Only this-'' He then gives Loki the middle finger, and Loki knows it's an insult on Midgard, so he just frowns.
He then turns and walks out of the room, the other man following him closely before glaring at Loki once over his shoulder.
Loki swallowed hard in the way those blue eyes pierced him.
When the door closes behind him, he feels a bit of tension leaving his body. ''Well, that could've gone better.'' He mutters. Thor claps him on the shoulder hard, and he winces.
''I told you the little Seiðr would be mad at you, brother.''
Loki grumbles but doesn't comment. Knowing he should probably not have done what he did, especially not to someone like Stiles, who has had enough experience with grief.