A Little Unsteady

Chapter 9

**TRIGGER WARNING**: Suicidal themes & feels

Loki's breath hitched midway up from his diaphragm. He had a split second to wonder what was arriving next when he heard it:

"…that everything is normal." Bruce frowned, sighing heavily. "Aside from the elevated heart rate during what I believe was your panic attack, everything's come back normal." His frown grew, deepening at the corners as though small, depleted fireflies were tinkering around a glass jar-hoping to be unleashed but not succeeding.

He dropped the test results to a nearby chair, running a hand through his hair in distress. He looked back at Loki as he earnestly said, "I'm sorry, Loki. I know that's not the news you-" he scanned his eyes around each occupant in the room, arms outstretched, "-we were looking for." He dropped his gaze momentarily before cautiously venturing out on the icy pond, "How are you feeling about this?"

A shadow of unclear emotions had been cast over Loki's face, as though the sun in his sky had been eclipsed by darkness. Loki's brows came together at their start and his eyes had zoned in on a speck of dirt on the floor. He took in a trembling breath and then another.

In a small voice he said, "I'm not making this up?"

It felt so much like a statement but with the way his voice naturally rose at the end it came out more like a question.

A question he required-needed-validation from.

He wasn't making this up, right?

But if the test showed nothing, then what other answer was there?

Had he merely been overreacting this entire time? Were they all wrong? Was he wrong?

Loki rolled his eyes as emotion peaked in his system. Somehow he was always able to make things about him.

Maybe this went beyond him.

Maybe this wasn't something more.

But where did that land him in anywhere that wasn't limbo?

He scrunched up his green eyes, pressing his palms deeply into his sockets.

He couldn't think, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't make any sense out of this nonsense.

Where did-where could-he go from here?

Useless. Powerless. Helpless. Worthless.

That's all he would ever be.

So, what was the point?

What was the point in trying to be better when all of his attempts were continuously shot down?

What was the point in living if he barely even lived?

What was the point, the real point, when everything else echoed pointlessness?

He had tried.

He had tried so hard to grow, to be better, and what change did he have to show for it?

Nothing.

He had nothing.

He was nothing.

Nothing beyond a liar.

He groaned then, muttering something intelligible to his own ears even when the Avengers pleaded with him to stay. But even still, flashbacks of abuse and torture in his eyes, he walked away.

Because of what use to them was he now?

They wouldn't come after him-and he squashed down the little voice inside that said they would-and realized he'd be doing them all a favor.

He needed to cry in peace, away from the eyes of the heroes, the eyes of the tower and the golden eyes back at his home planet.

So much for finding a home here.

He should have realized sooner that he didn't matter-ill to himself and to the world.

He laughed mirthlessly.

He was surprised he'd even started to feel differently.

…He was an even bigger fool than Thor.

He made it to his comforter, eyes falling blind to the world around them, body encased in ice and shadow as he tried to cry himself to sleep, igniting the world's largest headache as he tugged at his scarred flesh where the old wounds lay.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

How could he have thought any differently? It made him feel sick.

It made…him weak.

And Loki was so tired of being seen as weak.

It was supposed to be different here-but it was all just the same.

He coughed, snot freely flowing down his face as he gasped into the blankets.

Please, Allfather, make this end.

But it didn't end.

It never did.

And it never would?

Or…would it?

Make this pain end, Loki thought desperately as he closed his eyes tighter, momentarily taking away his pain, momentarily easing his soul.

And he stayed like that, frozen in time, shielding himself within the fetal position, and he would have stayed like that for centuries if it wasn't for the voice in the walls that spoke with caution and haste. It declared that he was needed to keep the peace back in the medical bay and while Loki had a moment to ponder why he of all beings would be able to help in some measurable manner, he also knew then that it was his presence with the team that would curb the flying fists and angry shouts.

He realized after another moment that his reaction to the news probably wasn't looking so great to them. Guilt sprang up like acid to his throat and he registered then, within the darkness and the doubts that had plowed through his sky that Loki had begun to cling to all the words spoken to him in his previous encounters with the team. He could practically hear their voices chattering within his mind. And, sure, maybe he was useless in every other regard, but Loki had…potential. If there was any situation he could…'help' in, it was this one. While he was a liability in every other scenario, he was truly needed here. He could keep the peace, the irony not evading him, because it was who he was now. It was who he was today that mattered most.

He wasn't the same as when he had first begun in the Avengers Initiative. In all the ways he thought he had stayed the same, he had actually grown and changed. Maybe retribution and rehabilitation were just beyond the corner ahead yet, and maybe, maybe he was almost there now. He envisioned all the manners in which he had evolved and it warmed his chest now of what could be in the future. Despite the adversities and obstacles in his way, he had still lived forwards, and he needed the team-preferably all in one piece-as much as he needed air to breathe. So he quickened his pace and thought to himself, maybe it didn't matter where he came from before; maybe all that mattered now was where he went from here.

~#~

The medical bay, once Loki had left, had fallen into eerie silence. Then, all at once, chaos erupted across the Avengers' faces and the atmosphere in the room clogged up their throats as emotions came out swinging.

"Bruce, that can't be right, right? Maybe there's something we're not seeing?" Barton asked with a frown, hand extended to see the hieroglyphics he knew he wouldn't understand.

"Someone has to check on him," Natasha murmured, her eyes glancing at each of them.

"Oh, Loki," Thor mumbled, pain engulfing his soul.

Bruce said nothing, eyes calculating and Steve had fallen into sadness, trying to lightly comfort Thor.

Tony, voice loud and breaking through the chatter declared, "We all just witnessed what happened, right?" He trailed brown eyes over each of them, bewilderment and exasperation fighting for triumph. "Because that right there shows that we're losing him." His shoulders sunk as he muttered, "Fuck! We just got him and now we're losing him." Desperation encircled his irises as he looked to the team.

Voices softened before puttering out completely.

The silence felt suddenly and incredibly overwhelming.

For once, Tony found himself speechless.

Steve was the first to crack the quiet, "We can still get him back."

"Oh, fuck off, Rogers," Tony spat, throwing his hands into the air. "Your booming optimism has no place here. Or did you forget who we're dealing with?" Tony shot out an arm to point towards the entryway. "That demigod is a volatile bomb ready to explode at any moment. He's bound to feel betrayed and it's going to take us months to repair that damage. That's-that's even thinking that we can." Tony swallowed a sigh. "I need a drink."

He moved to get one but Thor's words sent a chill down his spine with how lowly they were whispered, facing a wrath he hadn't seen from Goldilocks before, "My brother is in a vulnerable state. We need not give up on him now."

Tony slung his head around to their other demigod. "I wasn't implying-"

But Thor continued, scathingly, "It sounded like you don't believe in him." Thor sent a glare in Stark's direction. "Maybe I should take him to someone who does."

Stark spluttered and laughed, Bruce shaking his head imperceptibly, telling Tony to back off.

"On what planet, dude? Because I think we're your best bet."

Tony's laugh fell to the floor when Thor quickly approached him.

"You take back your words, Stark. My brother deserves better than your lies of care."

"Lies?" Tony laughed again, albeit a little more nervously. "You're the only one of us here misrepresenting this conversation. Maybe…maybe you're the one with the problem?" Tony feigned ignorance, rubbing his chin in mock thought.

"Don't utter another word," Thor threatened.

"Or what? What are you going to do?" Tony's eyes narrowed to slits. "You can't proclaim he's unworthy of us-look at you for Christ's sake-attack us and become twice as volatile as him in the same breath. That's not how this works. ….Besides, where were you when this whole mess began?"

"Not. Another. Word." Thor growled, fist raised.

Tony stepped up closer, not backing down (even when he should have); a force of defiance and rebellion hurtling inside his body like a category five hurricane demolishes everything within its reach. It had been a long time since he'd been this reckless, and he couldn't help but feel a little proud of that, deep down.

"I'd really like to see what you're gonna do," Tony challenged, nose to nose, save for a gap, with the thunder god.

As Thor raised his fist to swing, they all stopped at the same time.

Thor's eyes swiveled left before they heard the small, meek voice again.

"Stop." A teary eyed trickster said, eyes wet and a small whimper extending from his mouth. "I can fight my own battles, Thor." He said just as quietly and when Tony made to speak, he said, "Shut up."

Eyes lost and lonely traveled over to Bruce. "What do we do from here?"

Thor's face crumpled in distaste before Bruce could form an answer and Loki only raised a brow as he replied, "Tony's right. We're out of options, Thor. This place is as good as any to find support. I…I like it here." He sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve until Steve handed him a box of tissues. Loki gratefully took them, applying the soft whiteness to his assailing member. "And I don't wish for you to fight on my behalf. We are not children, correct? Besides, he's right. You weren't there for me when I…needed you most. It's not really your fault. It's just what happened. And maybe I am volatile…or maybe I once was. All I know is that fights amongst us is going to cure nothing at all. So, Bruce, what are our options?" Loki handled himself with more grace and poise than either two hot-headed beings thought (or expected).

Tony immediately wallowed in his guilt and Thor kept his eyes away from the Man of Iron for the rest of the day.

Bruce finally answered but it wasn't much, "We're going to have to wait it out." His face bore a grim expression. "We keep track of how long it's been since the last attack, keep being careful until, until something changes." He paused briefly, "We don't believe it's purely psychological. You're dealing with a physical condition that has psychological ramifications." Even when Bruce said it, his inner doubts swirled into an uproar-he just didn't voice them. "Tests are only so accurate," he explained instead. "There are a lot of gaps in the practice of medicine. It seems like you've fallen into one of those cracks." His expression was apologetic and sincere.

Loki nodded mutely.

"Then we wait it out," he remarked, feeling numb and distant from the conversation once again. "We wait it out." He repeated tentatively, until he turned back around and left the room.

~#~

Waiting it out, it seemed, was a mission in and of itself.

It transpired gradually.

Tony had found him in the hall to apologize for what he had said when the trickster wasn't there. Loki had told him he'd have to prove it through actions-in complete jest or incomplete, even Loki wasn't sure-but Stark did congratulate him on returning to the heat of the fire.

"I don't think you would have done that six months ago. Instead, you'd probably let me get punched in the eye by Thor, so, thanks for stopping that from happening, too." He added sheepishly.

Loki had winked at him, "Can't have the thunder god going around to ruin that pretty face of yours."

And in the wake of dusk, even Thor had approached him-annoyingly while he was reading.

"I don't like the way they treated you." He had said softly and Loki clasped his book shut, replying in return, "It's all right, brother. They treat me…differently." He thought about it for another second or two. "And that's not a bad thing."

Thor didn't appear any more convinced but Loki knew the other demigod would figure it out.

He had enough to bear on his own shoulders for now.

And so, like clockwork, time went on.

In the mornings, Loki would rise with the sun and eat a healthy breakfast early with Steve. By eleven he was tinkering in Tony's shop, helping to create sideline projects and conquer new techniques with his magic. At noon, he was back for another meal amongst them all-eating greedily and eagerly.

Every Tuesday afternoon at two Thor and Loki would have a visit from Frigga. At first their conversations were of the younger god's health but they transformed into successes within the shop and pleasant outings the team went on on Saturday's.

Loki would have dinner again with all the members and go to his room in the evening to enjoy his solitude and the comfort of his own books.

Things fell into a cozy and comforting routine and Loki couldn't say he wasn't happy.

He felt more days content rather than dark and dismal.

And he'd been working hard alongside the others to feel purpose in his life.

Some days the memories or the nightmares got to him, and while it wasn't his instinct, he plowed through them with care and support-more than he had had at any other time of his life.

Waiting with hesitant breath turned to hours without incidence. Then days. Then weeks. Then into a few months.

By the first month, Loki began to wonder if it was a situational problem. Maybe he'd just been more worn out starting on the team than he had realized. Maybe hysteria was at play. Maybe he had knocked himself silly and that was it. That was going to be all.

He tried to balance not thinking about it further with still keeping an eye out and being somewhat prepared mentally to find shit hitting the fan again.

But, it didn't happen.

Days beginning and ending with the demigod intact made him wonder and question and ponder while he settled into comfortability.

This, it turned out, was nice.

This, he realized, he could live with.

The only downside?

Staying off on the sidelines (or in the Tower, as it were) from missions.

There hadn't been a lot-maybe a small handful-over the course of those few months but it setback Loki each and every time.

For three days after the demigod would hear about the tales of the team with no true way of being able to participate in such discussions.

It was very surreal for the trickster because all his life he had been a warrior-in more ways than once, he might add-and to not be able to fight alongside the team made him feel all the more useless and depressed than what was normal for him now.

He would find himself uninterested in his books, in his magic, in even sleeping. The guilt ate up his insides and he hated it.

Thor, especially, was always one to boast and that didn't stop him from doing it now.

It would be Loki's own secret mission to avoid the thunder god for three days until the routine fell back into place and musings of the battle turned to sludge.

Loki heard from Tony on more than one occasion, "Fury's warming up to the idea of your comeback like apple pie at Thanksgiving. It'll be soon, I promise."

The demigod knew he said it to give him hope and promise, and he appreciated that, he truly did, it just….stung a little each time it didn't happen.

Loki still sat in on the mission meetings and he helped where he could with Jarvis' instruction at the tower, conveying important information to the necessary team members as their own eye in the sky.

So, he wasn't completely useless.

It was…partial uselessness.

He couldn't deny dreaming of missions and using his daggers in smart maneuvers and that waking up from such dreams hit him in the gut, hard, every time.

But it just so happened that the one partially gray and partially sunny day he awoke to feeling fresh and calmer than ever was the same day all things would end and…begin again.

~#~

It was the first true day of spring, the sunlight peeking from behind the white, fluffy clouds as it danced over the small budding flowers perking up from the rich, green grass. The scents were strong and often evoking allergies to the noses of thousands of mortals.

Loki had cracked one eye open, looked to the sunlight and smiled. He rose from the bed in one piece, even after his blankets tried to kill him getting all tangled up at his ankles, and headed to the glass window, resting his forearms on the pane and breathing in the fresh air. It was a nature musk mixed with intense city-all the engine gases, pollution, smoke, disgusting sewer water-and his smile uplifted once more at the corners.

Oh, how New York City had managed to become his new home. If he could bottle all the smells of this place and carry it with him around his neck, he'd be more than pleased albeit it would be weird.

As he took another moment to breathe in this familiar place, he pulled himself away with a hop in his step as he got changed for the day.

Until that is, as he had his head lost within the torso of his shirt, he received a light tap on the door.

He scurried over to unlock it, still only seeing through the fabric mesh when he made out a blurry Tony Stark (his arc reactor was a clear giveaway) standing in the flesh.

"Whoa there, Loch Ness," Tony cried out, averting his eyes from the pale stomach of his teammate-purely out of respect, of course. He winked at him where he thought Loki's eyes were and smiled, "Suit up. We're getting debriefed in the conference room."

He was already walking away when Loki called out, "Truly?"

"You betcha, Reindeer Games."

Tony hadn't seen the demigod close the door and yelp huzzah that fast in a long time and he couldn't pretend to anyone that he wasn't inwardly giddy and tickled pink.

~#~

It was early in the conference room to have them all be there as Loki had pranced around the tower in all his excitement to round up the troops.

Steve had the audacity to look both tired and focused; Bruce was staring at his fingernails, seemingly inspecting them (though lines of worry were upon his brow); Barton was perched at the arm of Natasha's chair, whispering to her as she stared off at where Nick Fury's hologram was bound to appear as per usual; Thor was clasping and unclasping his hands nervously and Tony had sunglasses over his face, trying to hide the fact that he was sleeping.

Among all of them sitting in rolling chairs, save maybe for the assassins, Loki was the only one bobbing about, legs jumping in anxiety as he wore a large smile-bordering on maniacal-and quickly chattering noisily, "Where is he? Is he coming? Where's the mission? What is the mission? Can he see us? Can he hear us? How do I look? Do I look all right?"

"You're looking a little crazy," Barton remarked under his breath.

Loki didn't even flinch but Bruce admonished, "On behalf of all 'crazy' people, he's not one of us." Bruce rubbed his forehead with his fingers, his skin remarkably dry but luckily not flaky. "Not that you are even remotely 'crazy,' Loki."

Loki still tossed his feet around in the air as he spun in another circle.

"No offense taken," he chirped and Tony couldn't suppress a grin from beneath his large frames. The trickster was beyond eager, excited, and dare he imply-happy?

It was good to see and it still warmed his heart because of how much Loki had grown into himself among their Avenger family. He wasn't perfect-and his next statement showed that-but he was finally improving. He was finally changing and not into a stranger but a…friend, an ally, a teammate. He had always been promising, always worthy of the love he may not have received as much as a kid and Tony felt things were finally starting to look up for the demigod.

Maybe he should have realized then everything they had the potential of losing.

"I swear by the Norns, Stark, if you have lied about this I'll turn you into a snake and trap you in a bin."

Thor nodded in fairness, looking moderately pleased.

"And not for Thor to play with you." Loki added, glaring at his brother.

Thor looked aghast.

"But you know how much I love snakes!"

"Exactly why you wouldn't go near him."

"Brother, I really think you should reconsider-"

"No. Now shut up, I see something is changing." Loki replied, eyes narrowing as the air flickered above the table.

Before long, the sound of voices in the background came through the hologram as Fury's upper body appeared.

"Avengers," he proclaimed, one eye gazing over each of them carefully.

"Assemble!" Loki tossed a fist in the air and Fury stared at him perplexed.

"What's wrong with him?" His gravelly voice asked and Tony laughed out loud.

"He's….happy," Steve mentioned slowly, as though the declaration was unsettling.

Fury snorted, looking towards Thor then Bruce.

"And your medical and personal opinions are….?" He asked to clarify. Adding hastily, "I'm just making sure we're all on the same page," his eye falling back to Loki's school girl innocence.

No, really.

Loki had cast himself as an illusion of a school girl and it was plenty disturbing.

Fury rolled his eye and ignored him, wearing a serious expression and not wanting to bother with either mocking or disapproving gestures lest it encourage the trickster (which he had a feeling that it might).

Thor looked to Bruce first and lightly waved for him to speak, which, after a sigh, he did.

"Loki hasn't had any mild or severe syncope episodes since we ran the test five months ago. He…should be…all right?" Bruce looked confused and slightly panicked.

Thor nodded, arms naturally folding across his chest as he responded, "I know my brother is eager to get back into missions-and I do not wish to diminish that-but-" he looked to Loki solemnly. "-I think it's too soon."

"Too soon? More like not soon enough!" Loki grumbled, distaste coloring his vision as he huffed to himself and whined, like a child no less, still in his illusion.

"We don't know what caused, what precipitated, all of your other attacks, brother. I do not think it wise to jump back so soon into these matters."

"Just because you're older than me doesn't mean you get to boss me around." Loki shifted back into himself and looked at his brother. "I know you care but your caring is going to make me slice you. Please, Thor, take your care elsewhere because I do not wish to deal with its repercussions any longer."

Loki took in a deep breath and turned back to Fury as though the discussion was over (and for him it was).

However, Thor didn't take the hint-the oblivious rat.

"It is my caring that will save your life," Thor responded ominously. "I only wish the best for you, Loki."

"Yeah, well, I don't require your wishes anymore."

Thor bit back a sigh and looked to the director.

"I don't think he's ready." Was all he said.

Loki mewled something between a snarl and an outcry of sounds. "Thor!" He loudly spoke, ready to pull out a dagger until he thought better of it. "No more words." He glowered dangerously at the thunder god who only matched his stare with an equally explosive temperament.

Yawning his defeat and regretting how late he'd gone to sleep the night before, Tony tore off his sunglasses and lowered his feet from their nook upon the table.

"Okay, okay, Goldilocks and Reindeer Games, settle down, settle down." Tony cast tired, sleepy brown eyes between the male siblings. "Is it so hard to ask for a peaceful meeting around here?" He stifled another yawn and stretched his lanky limbs above him.

"How can we come to a compromise here?" the inventor asked almost innocently.

"I will not relent," Thor said gravely.

Loki glared at him, "Neither will I." He said in challenge.

"Well, fuck." Tony murmured, earning a smirk from the younger demigod.

Thor replied quietly, "I have a bad feeling about this."

Loki rolled his eyes, easily dismissing his brother's concerns. "It'll be fine, Thor. You are seeing problems where none exist. Loosen up."

Thor's blue eyes continued to look into Loki's green, an unreadable expression lurking in his irises and Loki sighed, somewhat dejectedly, before shifting his gaze towards Tony.

The inventor gave him a weak smile and said, "I think Reindeer Games is ready. For whatever it's worth." Tony peeked over at Thor. "You're being over-protective and it's smothering your brother. You've got to let him go on and make his own decisions or he's going to resent you more than he already does."

Thor's eyes blinked as he lowered his head. He cast a cold look towards the inventor, somehow still bitter even months later, replying lowly, "Fine, Stark, but it will be on your shoulders if anything is to happen." To Loki, he said, "I cannot deny that something doesn't feel right to me about this. Frigga has placed me to be responsible for you. If you truly feel no fear than there is little else I can do for you. Just be warned, brother, that you are placing your trust upon a mortal whom may not have good intentions for you at heart."

Tony frowned, offended, that Thor would say as much while he was still in the room.

"Geez, Thor, love you too." He muttered but the gaze locked between the two siblings never wavered.

Loki raised his chin in defiance while boldly asserting, "We have grown, Odinson, whereas it appears you have stayed the same." Loki clucked his tongue between his teeth. "Your mistrust is unappealing to me and your team. Maybe with time you will learn to master the art of saying no silently." Something flickered in the trickster's eyes but as soon as it had come it disappeared again. Moving slightly towards Tony, he glanced at the inventor as he said to Thor, "I trust him."

Tony couldn't help but smile to himself, delighted and accepting Loki's good graces in stride.

"Then I cannot do more to prevent you from making this mistake."

Loki's eyes narrowed as yet another flare of frustration emerged within his spiral of awareness. He vaguely recalled his fingers clenching into his palms, the nails biting his flesh, almost in warning.

"You will do well to mind your tone, brother." He tilted his head sideways, grumbling, "Or have you forgotten that I hadn't asked of your opinion?"

"Even if you had, which you wouldn't, you'd never listen to me then either."

"We will discuss this more in private," Loki mentioned, finally shifting his gaze and the rest of his body away from Thor.

"If you live to tell the tale," Thor said cryptically.

Loki ignored him, facing Fury with a mask of subdued delight.

"Are you satisfied?"

Fury merely raised a brow in question before shrugging, noticing the tension that had been invited into the room.

"As long as you can all play nice without any trouble, I'm peachy." He warned, looking at the team carefully in assessment before relenting and sending them the description of their latest problematic guy. Fury had another moment to wonder if this team of his was fully cohesive rather than breaking apart at the seams, before he sent the extra holograms depicting information for the team to manipulate and study on their own. Everything would work out fine, right?

Maybe he'd have a short word with Bruce about this after, just to cover all his bases.

"This is Zechariah, an other worldly creature with an astronomical amount of attachment and Mommy issues. He's attempting to burn the city to the ground, for what he calls the greater good. Haven't we all heard that before?" Fury briefly eyed the trickster who glared at a spot on the table as he wondered why every enemy they faced was so predictable.

Fury continued, "Zechariah has powers involving weather manipulation, as far as we're aware, super strength, and a knack for disrupting the city's bus schedules."

"Not much of a villain," Loki muttered just as Tony was saying, "Not a commuter, then," as he shook his head.

"Well, he can't exactly fly but he has a finicky manner of growing to large proportions."

"Finicky?" the archer was questioning, so quietly that Loki found himself momentarily surprised that the rest of the team was still there. Somehow in the disagreements, he had forgotten this was a conference meeting. Loki eyeballed Thor over the end of his nose and found his brother was staring at him with a sad frown and hesitance about his caved in shoulders.

Loki flicked his gaze away and lowered his eyes again, lifting a delicate hand to manipulate a hologram of Zechariah's powers. The blue-white light of the image shone on his face, igniting his features with their reflection.

"Finicky." Fury confirmed. "He sorta fades in and out before he's able to grow or shrink. We don't know a lot about his species but it appears that he may be ill in more ways than one." Fury sighed. "He's still a moderate threat at this rate, purely with his size and destroying public property, and the local police haven't been equipped to handle him, which is where you all come into play." He looked warily over at the trickster again, feeling as though everyone in the room was silently doing so, too. His eye swiped towards Bruce as he asked, "You have any last objections?"

Bruce bit his lip, glancing at Thor's mournful staring and Loki's hard set concentration upon the holograms.

"Medically from the last five months there shouldn't be any reason to stop him," he made to continue but stopped. He shrugged, not having a sense of impending doom like the thunder god.

Maybe, maybe he should have.

"Then we're all set here." Fury dropped a file which echoed into the room and nodded at each of the team members.

"Get to work."

And with that, his image disappeared and a blanket of unease and inescapable excitement ballooned onto the very outskirts of the room.

~#~

Zechariah was less intimidating than Loki had built up in his mind but the demigod couldn't shake the nervousness from his ankles. The villain was looming over his teammates, New York City beneath his dry, scaly orange skin. Some parts of his flesh were cracked and bleeding, creating a significant biohazard predicament-Fury's words about an illness echoing in each of their minds, finally making more sense than when they were uttered. Zechariah moaned with the slit he had for a mouth, shoving a large fist across a building as his shoulders grew above and the creature took up what seemed like half the sky.

Zechariah taunted the small crowds of mortals upon the ground, too stupid to think of self-preservation as they held out their mobiles to tape the shenanigans.

"Run!" Shouted Steve as he ushered them away, dodging flying objects until they were brought to relative safety.

"They never learn, do they?" Loki grumbled beneath his breath, certain that no one had heard him.

"Bow down ye prisoners to meeeeee!" Sang Zechariah, a cyst on his skin exploding and soaking the climate beneath him.

"Thaaaaaat is disgusting," Tony remarked as Hulk opened a nearby fire hydrant to water down the fluids from where they had landed.

"Are we sure this guy isn't just dealing with a really bad skin condition?" Barton declared, shooting another arrow into the alien even as Zechariah grabbed it and snapped it in two, so similar to the way Loki had all that time ago. "Maybe he just had a shitty dermatology appointment and didn't like the medication they gave him." The snarky comment in the archer's tone betrayed the gleeful look he was trying otherwise to suppress.

"And then he just decided to say fuck it to the bus system and go evil?" Tony asked, dodging another pus explosion.

"Maybe the pharmacy took too long so he missed his bus home and decided if he couldn't ride, no one could ride, buahaha!" Barton jested, squinting in the light as he fired another arrow.

"These back stories are interesting and all, but we have work to do," Loki sighed, twirling through a tunnel left inside a building as he jetted up the other side, landing a dagger into one viscous crater on Zechariah's skin. The alien squawked in alarm before taking out the small, bloody silver.

"Nooooo!" Zechariah squealed, his skin bristling and rippling in response. "Nooo stabby!"

"At least he has a sense of humor." Tony quipped, saving a group of humans from another large chunk of concrete that threatened to fall on top of them.

"Do we know how old this thing is?" someone said, the voice tickling their ears with familiarity until they realized it belonged to their other assassin.

Natasha raised a sleek eyebrow, lips pursed together in thought. "He seems almost…childlike. Maybe we're dealing less with an egomaniac villain and rather a sick child lost in its way."

Steve huffed in consideration, taken by surprise by their feminine counterpart who had remained incredibly quiet thus far in the mission, more than usual, but realizing where she had a point.

"Should we initiate de-escalation?" Loki asked knowingly even though he felt it necessary to be sure.

Natasha nodded to herself, lost in thought.

"Initiate de-escalation protocol."

"Loki?" Barton was casting a glance in the demigod's general direction. "You're up."

Loki felt his chest clench.

"Are you certain?" He asked softly. It had been a while-what felt like too long-since he had initiated this type of protocol let alone been on a mission and the suddenness of being thrust back into his job made his eyes flutter like butterfly wings.

"Not unless you think Thor would be better suited," Clint stuck out his tongue and Loki laughed despite himself.

"No being wants to be welcomed by Thor," Loki commented, zooming up the stairs of the building he was still in, peering out a broken window as he launched another dagger, longer this time, at Zechariah.

It penetrated deeper than his last and Zechariah hurled his oozing flesh towards the glass as the sunlight streamed through and glinted on his internal fluids.

Loki escaped just in time and continued to hurry up the stairs.

"I'll, no, we'll," Loki corrected, climbing three more flights as he went (luckily he was still in good shape for these types of excursions), "lure him to the roof."

"Got it!" Steve piped up as he evacuated another café full of strangers. "Get him as isolated as you can. We're gonna have a lot of fallout otherwise."

Loki continued his upward strides, wondering in passing how many flights he'd already gone up.

Twelve? Fifteen? Curse this tall building!

Tony was just striking another heated blast, the blow causing Zechariah to molt and shift, as Hulk shouted in the distance, "Smash! Smash!"

It was somewhere between the fast exhalations of Loki's breath, the sound of battle around them and the hopes that the protocol would work appropriately that made the trickster's vision sharpen and come into further detail.

Oh, how he had missed this!

He was, moments later, slamming the door shut behind him as he ignored the warning signs to keep it closed, vaguely hearing a shrill whine smack into the air for not having done so.

Fire alarm, Loki surmised in his mind as his green eyes narrowed, seeing the shadow of his brother landing on the roof ahead of him. Loki thought he was too busy catching his breath to moan or say anything about it-before he changed his mind entirely.

"No…fair…you should….have…taken the….stairs."

Thor smiled thinly at him, blue eyes wandering over his brother, assessing him.

"And miss this view? Aye, brother, it's like you don't know me at all." His eyes watered a little but he tried to hide it.

Loki saw; it just wasn't the time to say anything.

"You remember the protocol?" Thor asked, knowing for himself he was the type to act first, ask questions later.

Loki knew this just as he knew he prided himself for being the opposite.

"I was born for this," Loki murmured and Thor cast him a quick glance before jogging left.

"I'll be on your nine."

Loki took a deep breath and walked forwards, the high winds blowing his hair around him fretfully as he drew upon his magic, his fingers pulsating, sending out a signal of light and colors to Zechariah's eyes.

The creature, too busy placing his hands beneath a pile of broken rock, muttering quietly and staring intently at the Hulk, ready to throw the weapon at the superhero, became distracted by the lights dancing in front of him.

The colors blinked red, blue and yellow.

Zechariah followed them, eyes unblinking, mouth drawn agape. He lifted a slimming hand to pop one color, the orb disappearing with a soft plop.

He giggled as his body began to shrink. His skin still oozed and rippled but he grew smaller. His eyes changed from black to grey. His lips popped together like a fish, as he was mesmerized by the magic.

Once he was down to being three feet tall, he looked towards Loki, the trickster eyeing him carefully.

"Hi, I'm Loki. What's your name?" Loki began in a slow, quiet voice.

The vocal change was a must to appear more soothing to the offender. Loud noise and yelling would only heighten the situation. Loki's job wasn't to instigate, it was to soften. His job wasn't to be big but smaller; less offensive, more inviting. He thought he was doing well, so far.

"What's happened to you? Has someone hurt you?" It was a leading question and Loki cringed at having said it but it had already happened. "You seem to be in pain. Are you okay?"

Zechariah burped a look of immense sadness. He licked his lips and cried out, "No!" He frowned deeply, eyes cast towards his skin as he watched it move against his will. He swung the offending limb, wishing he could get away from it but not realizing he couldn't.

It wasn't possible. He wasn't possible.

Loki bent down to one knee, speaking as softly as before, "Hey there, can you tell me what happened? How can-?" Loki stopped himself.

Zechariah may very well be a child and too many questions might confuse him. Loki bit his lip before continuing, "I see you're really sad. You must be in a lot of pain. Does your skin hurt?" Loki drifted a few other colored orbs to Zechariah.

The boy smiled minutely, and nodded.

"Yes, it does and I hate it." He growled lowly, hitting his forearm reproachfully.

"Sometimes I feel that way, too." Loki replied, hoping they were getting somewhere.

"Really?" Zechariah asked; his grey eyes big.

"Yeah, I was born on a planet where their skin was blue with raised ridges. It took me a long time to come towards accepting of that part of me." Loki ventured forwards a little further. "Sometimes I still struggle but I know it's just a part of me now, not all of me." Loki's head tilted to the side imperceptibly. "I came to this planet and I was really scared. It's tough to be so far away from home in a completely new place. Do you feel scared?"

Zechariah's eyes filled with unshed tears. He nodded fervently.

"That makes a lot of sense. What helps you most when you feel this way?"

Zechariah pouted. "My Mommy plays the piano."

"Wow," Loki tentatively said with surprise, feeling paternal to a child he had never met before, having to bite back the urge to call Zechariah a placating term. "That's incredible. My mother would show me magic. Do you like magic?" He let a few budding flowers flutter by Zechariah.

Zechariah cooed in pleasure.

"I love magic!"

The boy set himself onto the rooftop, legs outstretched before him as his hands carefully and delicately played with the colored balls.

"How about we find a piano and you can play with my magic a little more?" How does that sound?" Loki tilted his head at the boy who hesitated briefly before he nodded.

"Magic! Magic!" Zechariah clapped his hands, his skin calming down even with its angry red blotches and some scaly abrasions.

"What is your name?" Loki asked cautiously, waiting for an answer from the boy himself.

"Zechariah."

"Okay, Zechariah. I'm Loki; this is my brother, Thor, over here. He's going to help us find you a piano. What else does your mother do that helps soothe you?"

Zechariah looked distrustfully towards Thor as the thunder god came out from behind some barrels. Even as Loki was afraid this might antagonize the child, Zechariah didn't seem too bristled by his presence, helped, Loki thought, by the fact that Thor was holding his arms awkwardly with his red cape billowing behind him, wry smile lighting up his face.

"Hi there," he said, afraid his voice was too loud.

Zechariah made a face.

Thor mirrored one back.

The boy laughed.

"He's a big oaf," Loki mused, luring Zechariah to the exiting staircase with his magic.

Loki heard Zechariah mention in passing the answers to his latest question but Loki was busy instructing his brother in a low whisper, "See that he gets down."

As soon as their figures disappeared behind the door, Loki briefly saw Zechariah's skin bubble upon being met with the loud alarm until Thor punched the offending object until its squeals watered down into frail whispers. Zechariah smiled and his skin calmed significantly.

Loki turned to their telecoms, briskly saying, "All set, crisis averted." He gave a sigh of immense relief.

Cheers welcomed him inside his ears as his teammates congratulated him on the job well done.

Loki wiped the sweat over his brow onto his sleeve. He felt awfully warm all of a sudden.

"See to it that Fury knows he has to go with a softer approach," he added, absent mindedly.

Loki stood until something sparkled by the edge of the roof nearest to him. He turned and squinted at the object, being unable to make out any of its details. He walked over to it, trying to decipher what it was, aiming to inspect it properly.

It was one of his daggers, as it turned out, but the realization came too slow. Too slow for Loki's standards.

His gaze flicked up to the horizon, as the voices in his ears faded away. His vision blurred and he noticed then how fast and how hard his heart was beating.

Something wasn't right, something wasn't right at all.

How could it be? How could this be happening all over again?

Loki's vision swirled, the horizon meeting the ground and light blasting through his parted eyelids. Warmth rushed into his frontal lobe to an unsettling degree.

Everything drowned on-drowned out-without him. He didn't know he could breathe so fast without ever getting enough air.

He felt the jerkiness in his limbs, the way his feet stumbled beneath him and he could have sworn he was moving, hurtling, in the right direction but once he felt it-once he knew-he knew he was toast.

He knew he was done for.

He knew he had just made his gravest mistake yet.

He thought of how that woman, Scarlet, took a tumble off a table.

He had just done that, too.

Just….off a roof.

Purely accidental.

Purely terrifying when he felt not ground but nothingness met his foot as he fell, fell with all his body weight over and down, down, down he went.

Thor was right, he thought. There was an image of the thunder god flickering through his mind as he choked on his spit-perhaps even swallowing a fly.

This was how things ended for him.

This was how he was meant to go out: falling off a building five months after an intense physical ailment tortured him for months, seemingly disappearing without a trace, only to return again, in the end.

Gosh, was this it?

Was this how it all came together?

Was this truly his end?

How-how did this happen?

What had he, what had they, all missed?

Loki had thought maybe he was healthy after all, maybe it was all just a farce, a ploy for manipulation but had it not been?

Had it just been not?

His throat ached, he was screaming he realized, and it wasn't necessarily that he was flailing, more like just falling backwards gracefully.

At least he went out with grace.

It's how he entered and how he left.

Fifteen stories.

He had counted after all. Fifteen stories and a dozen left that he hadn't got to say.

Would he say them now?

In Valhalla?

Would he say them?

He thought of Stark then, of what Thor had said. And he realized it didn't matter. They would have their quarrels. They would blame one another-each other-themselves. They wouldn't move on. They'd stay the same.

And what of Loki?

Would he stay?

Or would he go?

It felt, oddly, like going through the Void.

Time hung in the air and there was no final crunch, no impact.

He should have loved them more. The Avengers, his mother, his brother. He should have kissed more passionately, his love life or lack thereof, desperately requiring it. He should have said more. He should have said all the things that were still on his mind. He should have said them.

He would, right?

He would?

All that time being afraid of a purpose, or a lack of one, and he had had it all along.

He had had it.

He had.

He felt his heart stagger in beat, stumbling and tripping and just when he thought he'd be gone forever, his will to live exploded in his skull.

He pried apart tightly clasped lids to see the sky, grey and white, light streaking through the clouds like flames of a fire behind a gate, refusing to burn out, refusing to die.

He had to live.

He had to win.

The urge was there.

This wouldn't be his final night.

This wouldn't be his end.

He let out a softer, half-formed word when he-

It was a sudden onslaught: noise, touch, bones, metal, lungs flooded with pain and then-

nothing.

~#~

Screaming.

There were endless, foreign screams.

The car alarm groaned in protest.

The body having landed over it.

A hand-outstretched.

Blood, red, bright, dripping down.

Hitting, splashing onto dirt and exposed earth.

Bones: broken.

He could have sworn he saw bone fragments, white, almost spongey, lying on the ground paces away from the body.

The body.

No,

Loki.

A/N: Welllllll, sorry for the long wait, that's for sure. As you will see by the end, this latest (and long chapter itself) chapter came over many days of work spanning for a few months. We can probably blame: my periods of over-sleeping, procrastinating, lack of writing vibes, writing vibes! then forgetfulness, over-consuming Youtube, life itself, reading books and then working with youth at a residential twice a week to best explain my absence for this fic and most of my writings in general (since about Dec. 2019)!

Overall, I want to know what you guys think of this chapter! This is the scene that I had from the very beginning in my mind's eye, the scene (of Loki falling off the roof and landing somewhere below) that inspired this whole fic in the first place (and if you read Come to Pass you'll see a reference to this there, just a little different). Of course, all the details around this one scene was nothing like how I thought of it before, but this fic has grown and changed in a lot of ways since I began it and I'm so proud of it and grateful for each and every one of you that has read, faved, reviewed and followed it. I am eternally grateful. xxx

Ironically, while I was writing the part of Loki thinking as he fell, I was inspired and reminded of Grey's Anatomy's 5th season finale and "Off I Go" by Greg Laswell, which the song too is pretty fitting for what was happening in THIS fic. Also, I tried to pull back some on my FrostIron-ness, and trying to keep that at bay and around for some of my other fics instead (it's so hard, though!) XD

With the impending anxieties covid-19 has created for the world, I definitely saw the need and demand to set time aside to work on this chapter and updating this fic (I'm striving for updates on D&D, S, CeC, CtP and maybe something else), especially since it's been so long for ALU. It was much needed and I hope it was interesting and that you enjoyed it!

Zechariah being a kid was something I wasn't anticipating myself and I'm hoping the de-escalation piece was okay, I tried to research it a little and refresh my memory but if it's a little wonky, well, I'm still learning how to react with kiddos at work, ahaha.

As for comments: let me know how I did! Was it angsty? Too much hurt/comfort? Unexpected? Drawn out? You decide. Who do you think is the POV from at the very end? ;]

Thank you so much for reading. Stay healthy and indoors and safe!

xxx

MUSIC: 90 Days by Pink ft. Wrabel; Meet Me On the Battlefield cover by SVRCINA; Pieces by Kelly Clarkson; Head Above Water by Avril Lavigne; Rescue by Lauren Daigle; Please Don't Go by Abbey Glover; Off I Go by Greg Laswell.

Written: 8.31.19, 9.5, 9.6, 9.7, 9.12, 11.4; 3.19.2020, 3.20.20, 3.21.20

Typed: 9.6.19, 9.7, 9.19.19; 3.20.2020

Edited: 9.7.19, 9.12; 3.5.20, 3.19, 3.20.2020, 3.21.20