Chapter Text
“Oh, God, just leave me on the side of the road somewhere.” Tony pulled off his sunglasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to will the headache away. The limo hit a pothole, and he grimaced as they bounced. “There’s no way I can say this with a straight face.”
In the seat facing his, Pepper rolled her eyes. “Keep going. ‘True, as we enter this…”
“As we enter this time of uncertainty,” Tony recited from the cards dutifully, already sick to death of a speech he hadn’t even given, “we may default to doubt, or fear. There is nothing wrong with protecting ourselves - really? Throwing a bone to the gun lobby? - yet we must always remember to have faith in our neighbors, our public servants, and our Avengers. Aww, that’s sweet. Let’s ignore the protests and go straight to the feel-good cuddles.”
She sighed and twisted around to look toward the driver’s seat. “Happy? Thoughts?”
“Sounds like a real stand-up guy to me.”
Tony saw him wink in the rearview mirror, and he huffed out a breath. Six months after the Avengers saved Manhattan (and, y’know, the world), the alien invasion still dominated the headlines of every major news outlet. Some involved the science, some sung the praises of the Avengers, which Tony appreciated, but others were less forgiving. Some outright blamed the team for the damage done to the city. It didn’t help that, in lieu of a trial, all the public had was the sincere assurance that Loki was receiving justice on his home planet.
Fortunately, Pepper had been training for a PR catastrophe like this since she met Tony. He watched her type a few things into her phone, her lips pursed, before he said, “You sure this isn’t Cap’s speech from last week? He’s the earnest, Boy Scout-y one.”
“You’re a crowd favorite,” Pepper replied without looking up. “Hearing from you boosts the Avengers’ popularity.”
“Right.” The car slowed, and Tony glanced out the window at the familiar sight of an ongoing construction project. He vaguely remembered this corner; a leviathan had collapsed atop the roof, ruining the structural integrity and requiring total demolition. Now, the skeleton of I-beams rose higher by the day. And the traffic sucked.
They made it to the intersection just in time to miss the light, and Tony glanced out the window at the waiting pedestrians.
He blinked once. Twice. Cold adrenaline swept through his chest as his breath caught, and he crowded closer to the window, trying to make sense of what he saw.
Loki stood on the corner. In place of his armor, he wore a dark suit, his hair slicked back, his eyes scanning the horizon. As though he had all the time in the world. When he looked at Tony, his lips lifted into a familiar smirk, and Tony’s heart stopped.
“Jarvis,” Tony said, and his earpiece came to life.
Yes, Sir?
“Activate my glasses-cam, stream to Fury and the team. Tell them I’m in pursuit.”
Consider it done, Sir.
“Happy,” he said, keeping his voice steady while he unbuckled his seatbelt. “Get Pepper to safety.”
“What?” Pepper looked up in alarm as he opened his door to a rush of frosty mid-November air. “Wait, Tony - Tony! ”
He slammed the car door just as the light changed, and the huddle of pedestrians began to cross, carrying Loki along with them. As Tony charged into the crowd, car horns sounded behind him, and he heard Pepper shouting.
He could see the back of Loki’s head bobbing amidst the rabble - thank God for tall gods. Tony dodged hot dog vendors and clumps of tourists, never letting Loki out of his sight.
The team has been dispatched, Sir, with your briefcase armor. Captain America requests that you not engage before their arrival.
“Yeah, sure,” Tony muttered, just in time to lose Loki. He pivoted, straining to catch sight of him, and his gaze landed on a gap between buildings, too cramped to be a proper alleyway. He forged ahead through the crowd, turning the corner and-
Loki caught him by the lapel of his suit and dragged him deeper into the shadows. Tony let out a muffled squawk and lashed out, clipping Loki’s chin with the heel of his hand. Rough brick scraped at the arm of his suit.
The god loomed before him, impossibly strong and still wrestling him backwards. “What was the plan, exactly?” Loki asked, too close and far too calm for Tony’s comfort. “Fling yourself into battle without so much as a sewing needle for a weapon? Plan to prevail through wishful thinking?”
His voice lifted at the end, amused. Above them, a rusty fire escape blocked out the meagre winter light, and a flare of panic zipped through Tony’s heart. What was the plan, again? In the months after New York, he’d somehow forgotten just how unnerving Loki’s strength was.
Bracing himself, Tony double-tapped the face of his watch to prompt a taser function.
“Honestly,” Loki sighed, unruffled as a hand manacled Tony’s wrist and interrupted the sequence. “I’ve no idea why you don’t wear your suits all day and night. Without them, you’re…” the grip tightened painfully, and something in Tony’s watch died with a fizz and a spark. “...vulnerable.”
Tony headbutted Loki in the face.
A moment of recoil, and Tony saw shock in his eyes before Loki cackled and slammed him back against the brick. “I do admire your spirit. Alone, armed with nothing but your tenacity-”
“And my wit, don’t forget my wit,” Tony corrected, even as his wrist ached and he struggled to get a deep breath with Loki’s forearm pinning him to the wall like a butterfly.
Loki laughed again, softer this time, and Tony considered kicking him in the shins. It might help; it might get him stabbed.
“Of course. Your wit.” That shark-smile stretched wider. “How could I forget.”
In Tony’s earpiece, JARVIS whispered, Sir, the Avengers are still at least seven minutes from your location.
“So, you’ve been AWOL, huh?” Tony said, his mind racing as he sought a way to buy himself time. “Soaking in the rays somewhere? Or maybe seeing the sights? I don’t know how much of New York you got to see before you started blasting away, but the Statue of Liberty really is a marvel of modern-”
“Hush,” Loki said, and a bit of pressure on Tony’s windpipe did the job for him. “Babbling like a fool, as though you wouldn’t be dead already if I wished it.”
“Right,” Tony croaked.
“I have a message,” Loki murmured, “for you and your dear team.”
“Because texting is so incredibly inconvenient,” he muttered. Loki cocked his head. “And the message is?”
Loki’s eyes blazed, and his smile turned savage. “Get ready.”
He whirled and stalked away, back to the entrance of the narrow alley, and Tony gaped after him for a split-second, lost in the pleasant surprise of not getting murdered, before he gave chase. “On the move, JARVIS.”
Loki didn’t even bother to run, as though it was beneath him, and Tony broke into a sprint. His dress shoes skidded on gravel. As he closed the distance between them, he steeled himself for the twist: the knife unseen in Loki’s hand, the teeth flashing in menace rather than mirth. Any second now, as he neared Loki, as he reached out to snag the collar of his suit-
Loki erupted into the sunlight at the mouth of the alley, and Tony’s vision warped like they’d gone underwater. Then his hand tangled in hair , too long to be Loki’s hair, and when he pulled, the god screamed-
“ Help, oh my God, somebody, please, please, help me-! ”
He almost recoiled in shock, because that wasn’t Loki’s voice, that was a woman’s. But that couldn’t be, it was impossible, and he gripped tighter as this thing Loki had become contorted and writhed in his grasp. Passersby stared, horrified.
Tony got an arm around him, her, Loki, and hung on for dear life. His mouth opened to ask JARVIS for the Avengers’ ETA.
The fist came out of nowhere. Tony’s head snapped back; the shock of pain made his eye water, and even though he held on, someone was pulling him off, away, landing more punches on his ribs and his jaw.
Loki tore from his grasp, and as he turned, Tony saw an unfamilar face. A woman, smaller and terrified, in jeans and a torn blouse. But then she smirked and winked at him before fleeing into the crowd.
“Stop her!” Tony shouted, and the man holding him back gave him a vicious shake.
“Leave that girl alone, you jackass.”
“I’m a fucking Avenger ,” Tony roared. The pedestrians ringing the scene exchanged uncertain looks as he elbowed his way out of the stranger’s grasp. He spun in a tight circle, seeking the dark gleam of Loki’s hair - no, the woman’s curls - no -
His breath caught as he took in the sea of unfamiliar faces. Each one stared back, some holding up cell phones, some glaring or shouting, but all he heart was a dull roar. Loki was nowhere to be seen.
“JARVIS-” He fumbled with his sunglasses, residually askew from his attempt at self-defense.
I’ve alerted the team, Sir, and they’re spreading out to canvas the area. SHIELD is inbound.
“Tell the team,” Tony started, but he couldn’t find an end to the sentence as he surveyed the strangers around him over and over again. “His face, it - tell them he shape-shifted.”
Behind him, Mr. Straight-to-the-Punch laid a hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, right. We’ll see what the police say, Avenger .
Unsurprisingly, the two police officers who arrived on the scene had exactly enough time to open their notebooks before three black SHIELD vans swept up onto the curb, boxing them in.
Nick Fury leapt out first, his expression dark. Before Tony could get a word in edgewise, Fury had him by the chin, tilting his face back and forth.
“If you’re being mind-controlled, you better tell me now,” the director growled. “Or so help me-”
“ Ow , watch the bruising, and no, I’m just my usual beguiling self.” Tony batted his eyelashes and hoped Fury could see the crucial lack-of-blue.
The hand dropped from his chin, but Fury’s expression didn’t lighten one bit. “My people will secure the area. You’re coming with me.”
“The team?” Tony asked, trailing Fury.
“Doing a thorough search for both Loki and the woman he became.” But by Fury’s tone, he wasn’t optimistic.
Tony half-expected to get dragged into a SHIELD van, but instead, they made their way around the corner and onto a side street where a familiar limo idled at the curb. “Oh, thank God,” Tony said. “No offense, Nick - your creepy stalker vans are great and all, but the mini-fridge situation leaves something to be desired.”
As they slid inside, a furious Pepper Potts tried to club Tony with her purse.
“Don’t you ever do that again, I almost had a heart attack!” She glared at him as he raised his arms in submission. “‘Get Pepper to safety’? That’s all the warning I get before you run off?”
“Due respect, Ms. Potts,” Fury interjected, settling into the leather seat across from them, “we have more pressing matters at hand.”
“No kidding.” Tony leaned over to crack open the minifridge, grabbing a cold soda to press against his throbbing eye. The overzealous good samaritan had definitely left a mark: his jaw felt tender, and his ribs protested when he stretched too far.
“We have the footage from your glasses, Stark. Thor confirms it’s Loki, even after he transforms.”
“Yeah, hey, someone’s been eating his magic Wheaties. Did we know he could do that?” As he rested the can over his eye, he paused. “Also, is this how the world always looks to you?” He glanced around with one eye until Pepper swatted him again.
“Thor neglected to mention it,” Fury grumbled in a way that suggested, in the future, he may neglect to mention an anvil falling on Thor’s head. “We’ll be meeting after the search to go over Loki’s… talents in more detail. In the meantime, your conference is rescheduled for tomorrow.”
“No kidding. At this rate, it’ll be less of a ‘Go Avengers, Rah-Rah’ speech, and more of a ‘Don’t Worry, We’ll Catch Loki Just as Soon as We Find Him in New York’s Metaphorical Haystack’ speech.”
Fury stared back, grim. “No, it won’t. The public can’t know that Loki is back.”
For the briefest of moments, Tony thought he might laugh. “Come again?”
“The world still isn’t over the revelations from the past few months. Alien invasions have a way of making people a little anxious - something about the existence of life outside earth, hostile life, at that. They still haven’t forgiven us for taking Loki home to Asgard for his trial. We justified the decision by assuring them that Asgard’s prisons could hold him when ours couldn’t, and wouldn’t you know it! Theirs can’t, either. So not only did we lose the god, but now he’s back and craving revenge.”
Fury sat back in his seat, hands folded. The single eye narrowed. “Loki’s return would be bad enough, but revealing that he can change appearance at will? That’s a surefire recipe for panic.”
“Whereas a coverup always keeps people nice and calm.” Tony rotated the can, trying to keep the coldest part against the worst of the bruising. “If people find out later-”
“Then we’ll deal with it. In the meantime, we need to focus on catching an unstable trickster god with a grudge. That’ll be trouble enough on its own without factoring in the bullshit we’ll wade through if the entire world loses its collective mind.” Fury glared Tony into submission when he tried to interrupt. “Let’s put aside the Avengers losing the final shreds of their credibility, or the strain on SHIELD resources that should be going towards the search instead of PR. You know what’ll happen if we announce Loki’s little shape-shifting trick?”
“Enlighten me,” Tony said. As the immediacy of Loki’s reappearance faded, he found himself resenting Fury’s condescension.
“People will turn on each other. Some grandpa comes home late, gets shot by his son-in-law. ‘It was Loki,’ the guy says, ‘I’m sure of it!’ A cop shoots a hoodlum who made a few snarky, superior remarks that reminded him of Loki. A neighborhood gang beats the crazy, old, homeless man to death because they heard him talking to himself and thought it was Loki, casting a spell on them. And that's not even counting the thousands of minor assaults, or the wild goose chases that the police will be sent on by protective mothers and other concerned citizens. Chaos, Stark. That's what’ll happen, and it's exactly what Loki knows best. What he wants .”
Even if Tony wanted to fight it, he could see the resolve in Fury’s eye. And sure, he had a point - several points - but that didn’t mean it was a good idea. Frankly, Tony was a smidgen more concerned about how they were actually going to catch Loki. Someone else could handle the PR. And speaking of…
Tony turned to Pepper, who’d gone white as a sheet during the Director’s monologue. “Guess that means you and the boys are on cover-story duty,” he said. “Something classy, y’know, something that doesn’t make me look like I assaulted someone for kicks in broad daylight.”
It took Pepper a moment, but she gathered herself and glared at him. “The stocks-”
“Will be fine when I don’t get arrested,” Tony said, aiming to sound like he actually gave a crap about Stark Industries when Loki was off doing god-knows-what. “I doubt Loki will be pressing charges.”
“You still have Coulson’s number,” Fury interjected. “Get in touch, and he’ll coordinate with your people. We’re trying to smoke out a few organizations; pinning the blame on one of them could be the push they need to show themselves.”
“Great,” Tony said, “a little gasoline for this wildfire.”
Rather than dignify that with a response, Fury turned to knock on the partition. “Get us to Stark Mansion.” He returned his attention to Tony. “We’ll need to debrief the team when they return.”
Tony didn’t ask what they would do if an Avenger found Loki. They all knew they wouldn’t have a prayer until Loki was ready to be found.
He shivered. Get ready.
Stark Tower had obviously been Tony’s first choice for their headquarters for simplicity’s sake. But the skyscraper was, first and foremost, home to a business with thousands of people coming and going every day, and it wasn’t nearly private enough for their needs. So, Tony scrapped his original blueprints and got to work renovating the old Stark Mansion.
Surprisingly, Clint had been the first to take him up on his offer. Without a Tesseract to guard, he found himself between jobs. Tony came downstairs a few days after The Incident to find the archer standing in the kitchen in his worn plaid pajamas, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He happily occupied much of the third floor, but when Tony caught him using the long hallways for target practice, he started construction on an official shooting range in the subterranean floors.
Natasha had followed, insisting that she would only stay through the duration of New York’s reconstruction. Although the construction was, admittedly, ongoing, she showed no sign of leaving. In fact, she seemed to have dedicated herself to the Mansion’s redecoration. Tony came home one day to find that Howard’s overly ornate 1920’s living room set had been put in storage, and a mammoth-esque black couch made of butter-soft leather had taken their place. He couldn’t complain.
The Captain had been more openly hesitant than the rest, stating that he would prefer his own living space. Of course, this was before he learned that his "own living space" had been destroyed by one of the flying metal behemoths. He had then accepted Tony’s offer with a tight jaw and weary eyes.
Bruce had been the only real exception. Although he had bunked with them in the beginning, an incident involving an exploding toaster convinced him that he was better off on his own. Tony was loathe to let an intellectual equal of his drop off the map, and he’d promised to get to work reinforcing the Mansion’s structural integrity. So far, the majority of the load-bearing and external walls had been torn apart and rebuilt, piece by painstaking piece.
Thor’s situation was… complicated.
Tony had accepted that they’d only see the thunder god once in a blue moon while he dealt with Loki on Asgard. Therefore, he’d been a more than a little startled when Thor appeared in their backyard in a blinding flash that smushed his azaleas. He then confessed that there had been less "dealing with Loki" and more "searching frantically for Loki after he escaped from his thrice-reinforced, magical cell." When their initial searches came up dry, he had ended up lending a hand with New York’s cleanup, and - of course - crashing at the Mansion.
By now, the Mansion felt more like home than the Malibu house. Tony couldn’t help the relief that blanketed him when he stepped inside the reinforced walls, and he rolled his shoulders to relieve the worst of the tension as he made his way from the entryway to the kitchen.
“Do a sweep, JARVIS, just in case.” It would be just like Loki to hide out where they least expected him. Judging from the gun in Fury’s hand, he agreed.
The kitchen lights came on automatically, revealing plates with half-eaten sandwiches and a few stale chips. One sandwich had missed the plate entirely, belly-flopping onto the granite countertop and spilling deli meat and wilting lettuce. Loki had caught them in the middle of dinner.
Beyond, the living room was equally empty. Broad windows overlooked the lawn, where dusk crept in at the edges.
Sweep complete. You’re alone, Sir.
“Keep an eye out, would you?” Tony asked as he headed for the fridge. He grabbed a proper ice pack and, after a moment, filled a glass with some ice.
“Tony,” Pepper warned as he stopped by the liquor cabinet.
He waved her away. “By the time we have a half-decent plan, I’ll be sober again.” In the meantime, he needed a drink. The ghost of Loki’s appearance smothered him at every turn: the ache in his wrist, where he still wore the shattered watch; the phantom pressure of Loki’s forearm against his throat; the echo of the words that resounded in his head-
Vulnerable-
Alone-
What was the plan, exactly?
Tony settled in one of the new armchairs Natasha had introduced a few weeks back. After finally holstering his gun, Fury paced by the fireplace, taking the occasional call and muttering in low tones. Pepper gave Tony a final stern look before she left with Happy, headed to Stark Tower to formulate a press scenario that didn’t make him look like an asshat. He might’ve preferred that to being stuck alone with Fury. He pretended to be engrossed in his drink while Fury, to his amusement, started building a fire between his calls.
Before too long, the spies returned. Natasha folded herself into the corner of the L-shaped couch, her lips thin and pale as she stared into the distance. Clint collapsed into the armchair beside Tony’s with a frustrated sigh. Side-eyeing Tony’s drink, he asked, “You sharing?”
With a pained grunt, Tony heaved himself up. His ribs felt stiff, and his eye ached in spite of the cold pack. He grabbed one bottle, then two, just to be on the safe side, then vodka made three (because he knew Natasha needed it just as badly as they did).
Steve arrived just as Tony and Clint were clinking their glasses. He took in the scene - one bottle per Avenger, with Natasha forgoing her glass entirely - and frowned. “Is now really the time-?”
“Yes,” Tony and Clint chorused, and they cheers-ed again for a good measure. The archer had grown on Tony in the months since their initial meeting; when he wasn’t possessed by the demon-staff, his affinity for black coffee and his dry humor had made him an ideal candidate for a friend.
Pointedly, Steve got a glass of water before he joined Natasha at one end of the couch. The shield sat beside him like a decorative cushion. “Thor said he’d do another sweep,” he informed them, unbuckling his helmet, “bird’s eye view and whatnot.”
“Call him here,” Fury commanded. “We’ll need him for this.”
“There’s no need,” Thor boomed from the hall, and the entire team jumped. Clint cursed as he spilled half his drink.
At the sight of Thor, Tony’s gut tightened. Those broad shoulders slumped, and blonde hair hung bedraggled. Even his cape looked despondent where it fell limp from his shoulders.
“Changed your mind?” Steve called over.
Thor’s mouth twisted, bitter, and Tony looked away. The man had been a wreck when he returned to Earth, desperate to find Loki. Tony always suspected it was more about making sure Loki was okay rather than simply recapturing him.
“I cannot fathom the depths of my brother’s trickery,” he rumbled, approaching the couch. When he caught sight of Tony, he stopped short. Tired blue eyes went wide. “My friend, your face - did Loki-?”
“No, no, this is a parting gift from an unhelpful civilian.” Tony tilted his head to show off the shiner.
Thor’s face crumpled. “Were it not for Loki-”
“We’re wasting time,” Fury said from his place by the mantle. The chiaroscuro of orange firelight and shadow underscored the gravity of his tone. “Thor, this new power of Loki’s caught us completely unaware, and that can’t happen again. I need you to tell us everything you know about his magic.”
Thor sank into his place on the couch, running a hand over his face. “I shall endeavor to do so, Director, but you must understand - Loki undertook his magical studies alone. I never had any interest, nor the skill. The things I know, I’ve learned solely through observation.”
“Give it your best shot,” Steve encouraged.
After letting out a gusty breath, he did. Shape-shifting, appearing and disappearing at will, vanishing and conjuring objects, a medley of magical attacks - all manner of tricks deadly enough to warrant alarm.
“I fear the worst,” Thor murmured as his list drew to a close. “Loki has always been fickle, prone to vexation. Calamity befalls those who incur his wrath.”
“Can he really blame us, though?” When Tony spoke, Thor glanced up. His brows puckered, and Tony went on: “He instigated, we responded. It’s not like we waltzed into his backyard and started blowing things up.”
Thor gave a half-hearted shrug. “He is vindictive at the best of times, Tony.”
“Regardless of who blew up whose backyard,” Fury cut in, “we need a plan of attack. Or, short of that, a plan of defense.”
“I can ready the house for an assault,” Tony piped up. Already on his third glass, he was feeling comfortably warm and safe here in the Mansion. “Most of the walls already have mods since Hulk-ifying the joint. JARVIS has been at a Level Four alert since we first spotted Loki, and we can bump it up to a Five if need be. All surveillance is online, plus motion sensors, and shields at the ready.”
Fury nodded. “What else?”
The Captain proposed a rotating schedule, with at least one Avenger awake and patrolling at all times. Natasha and Clint agreed to go through their back channels, keeping tabs on everyone implicated in Loki’s first scheme. Fury already had SHIELD personnel running facial recognition software round the clock, pulling footage from every camera in the tri-state area to expedite the search.
“We tried tracing the path that led him to the street corner where Stark spotted him,” Fury said, “but we can’t track it. He just appears out of nowhere half a block away.”
“So, he knew exactly where Tony would be,” Natasha added slowly. “He’s been tracking us.”
A chill ran down Tony’s spine, and he took a heavy pull from his drink. As he did, a thought occurred to him.
“We should call Bruce, too,” Tony said, and Thor’s head jerked up. “Warn the guy, at minimum. I mean, if Loki’s going for revenge, the Big Guy’s probably pretty high on his list.”
“Plus, having the Hulk on hand isn’t a bad idea at a time like this,” Fury said.
Just as Thor opened his mouth as though protesting, the front door slammed.
Tony froze, tallying up the present Avengers in his head. Bruce was the only one missing, of course, and wouldn’t that be crazy timing
Um, Sir, JARVIS said uncertainly. Something is wrong here-
The booming voice drowned out the AI.
“My friends, I have completed yet another circuit of the city, but I have yet to find-”
Tony leapt up with a shout as Thor came into view, Mjölnir in hand.
The room went deadly still as the two Thors locked eyes, identical down to each chainlink in their armor.
Then the Thor on the couch turned to Tony and smirked, the blue of his gaze melting into green. “Heal swiftly, Man of Iron.”
He vanished before the first gunshot rang out, and the bullets and arrow embedded in the couch. No one moved, no one breathed, as they stared at the place where Loki had been.