Chapter 1
Thursday:
Loki steps out of the glowing portal into the sterile-scented air of Tony Stark’s lab. He made sure to enchant himself to avoid detection by all of the fussy Stark tech surrounding him but if he got his numbers wrong, Ultron will be able to spot him anyway.
Hopefully he got the tempad right this time and arrived before that robot’s creation. Android? Oh, whatever.
Unlike many times before, reset is not the goal here. New policies and all that. Instead, the TVA --well, Loki, was sent to ‘intervene’. Capture the Variant from this timeline. Set things straight. Clear it from danger manually. This would lead to less pruning in the long run.
As said, new policies.
Mechanisms whirr in his ears, music thumps from upstairs, drumming in tune with his heartbeat. But underneath all the noise, Loki can hear the steady hum of the mind stone. Locked away within a crystalline gem, brimming with energy. The smooth crescent staff rests atop a lengthy stand.
There it is. Just like he remembers it. Stars, it’s been so long. Loki’s mind spins in a halo of nostalgia, the fingers of thought reaching for the familiar pull of desire. The want, the need for power.
It’s faint, thank the Stars, but he remembers. The way it felt to drown in an ocean of urgency, of fear, of dependence on control.
Well, no time for that now. Any minute the Variant will arrive to do exactly what Loki intends to do--swipe the mind stone.
His fingers hover over the staff, the low hum of energy a thick aura pressing against his palm.
Stars, just do it!
“Hey!” the sharp crack of a voice causes Loki to jump and wrench his hand back. He looks up and sees Tony Stark himself storming into the room.
Loki curses himself for wasting so much godsdamn time reminiscing.
“Tony Stark,” Loki’s face splits into an easy grin, dimples caressing his high cheekbones. “Lovely to see you again. I do love what you’ve done with the place.”
“Jarvis!” Tony hollers. Was that a crack in his voice? Tony’s arm wings out, stretching much like Thor does when he summons Mjolnir. “Why wasn’t I informed of an intruder!?”
The AI’s voice caresses the room, “Apologies, sir. I am not registering any life forms that you have not approved.”
“Ah, yes, that would be my doing,” Loki drops the spell. It’s useless now and he knows he’ll need the strength in case Tony alerts the others.
Just then, something red flies into the room and folds itself over Tony’s forearm. Loki’s eyes widen as Tony aims the glove of his metal suit at him, the whine of his laser pinging off the walls.
Loki lifts his hands, “I can exp--uff!” Wind rushes out of his lungs as he’s hit full force with a blast from the glove, launching him into the wall behind him.
Loki grunts and pushes himself up, flinging his head back so his hair doesn’t end up in his face. “Good shot. Now if you’ll allow me to speak, I--”
Another blast kicks Loki in the ribs, much like a punch from Thor. “Hff--!” Loki’s back cracks against the pillar. He digs his heels into the ground, palms pushing against the pillar to keep himself upright. “Is this really necessary? I’m not even attacking--”
Another blast into Loki’s chest. Now it’s getting annoying.
“Tony!” a woman’s voice calls from the stairs. Heels clack over the floor and Pepper Pots hurries into view. Her feathered bangs bob over keen eyes, a spray of freckles dotting her nose. She looks less alarmed and more disappointed in a matronly way.
“I heard--” she sees Loki and her eyes round. “Loki…”
Loki rights himself, brushing the wrinkles out of his uniform. “Now,” he lifts a hand, “If you would let me explain…”
Tony’s glove whistles to life but Pepper grabs his arm, eyes never straying from Loki. Her lips press together and he can see the gears of her sharp mind turning.
“Wait,” she says. “Just wait.”
“Pep--”
“I think we should hear what he has to say.”
Loki tilts his head to the side. Pepper Potts, coming to his defense?
Tony lowers his hand slowly, Pepper’s fingers still grasping his bicep. “Fine,” Tony growls. “Talk fast--shouldn’t be hard for you.”
Loki gives him that one. “I am here from the future.”
Tony snorts. Pepper stays silent.
“I am here to prevent this scepter from falling into the hands of a villain.”
“Really?” Tony sneers, “Because you look like the villain whose hands it’s falling into.”
“Point taken. I assure you though, I am here with good intentions.”
Tony lifts his gun arm again. “I think I’ve heard enough.”
“Sir,” Jarvis echoes. “The scan I have made of Loki indicates he is much older than he should be at this point in time.”
Tony’s eyes squint, suspicion still painted across his face. “Magic could do that.”
“Are you certain?” Loki needs to get control of the situation. Because it’s true--he is there to prevent a variant from stealing the scepter. That is his main mission. True, it might have been easier for someone else not on bad terms with the Avengers to do this task, but there was good reason the TVA sent Loki.
In this same timeline, an Asgardian virus was detected making its rounds among the humans here, and no one knows why. Loki is the most familiar with the illness, and having survived it several times himself, is least at risk of dying from it.
Poor humans, though. They likely will not survive.
Loki assumes the Avengers fall ill through contact with the Variant, who already attempted theft at Asgard. Not if he can prevent it though.
“Prove it."
Loki frowns. “Beg pardon?”
“Prove it,” Tony demands. “Prove you’re,” he air quotes, “from the future.”
“How utterly expected,” Loki huffs. “Very well. Let’s see, where are we? Ultron, I believe,” he says, flicking through his mental files. Tony’s eyes crimp. “Yes, yes, you have just acquired the scepter, now you are calculating how you might use it to create your ultimate artificial intelligence--dubbed ‘Ultron’.”
Loki waves a hand, leaning into the air of casualness he is absolutely faking. Thank the Stars Mobius forced him to memorize the events during this time period before the mission.
“Perhaps you have spoken to Banner about your plans, but I think you have not--at least, not yet. But when you do, he will say yes.”
During Loki’s explanation, Tony and Pepper have been exchanging increasingly hostile facial expressions. When Loki finishes, they are already arguing in whispers and, of course, Pepper is winning.
“I’m not--no, Pep, listen, I--”
Loki clears his throat after a few moments, reminding them of his existence. Pepper gives him a tight smile and squeezes Tony’s arm. “Excuse us for just a sec.” She pulls Tony aside.
Tony shuffles reluctantly away but not before pointing forked fingers at his eyes, then swinging the gesture to Loki.
As if he could stop Loki were he to decide to attack them. Hmph.
They speak in hushed voices, Pepper gesturing rapidly, Tony attempting to get a word in. At one point, Tony pulls his arm up and presses into his face, sneezing harshly before using it to rub his eyes and nose.
Loki’s head ticks up. Is he already sick? No, of course not. How would he be? Unless it isn’t the virus. Hm.
They resume their conversation and Loki sighs. He’s about to call them out--ask how long this is going to take--when he hears a distinct whoosh behind him.
Loki whirls but the blow catches him in the ribs. He barely has time to throw out his hands and catch his fall, preventing his face from smashing into the floor.
A crash behind him as a table upturns and glass shatters. Pepper screams. Tony curses. Loki flies to his feet and sees a robed figure dashing toward the scepter.
Loki manifests a dagger and flings it at the Variant. They dodge, the dagger whistling past them and nearly clipping Tony behind them.
“Hey!” Tony calls.
Loki shrugs. “Sorry.”
The glove whines to life and Tony blasts the Variant. He hits his target, causing the Variant to stumble backwards.
“That’s how you aim.”
Loki tosses him a glare but the Variant is already scrambling back toward the scepter. Loki opens his palm, summoning the staff toward himself. He grips it tight, the aura of the infinity stone brimming in his mind.
Dark thoughts mist through him. Use me…
“Tony!” Pepper’s screech wrenches Loki from the depths. The Variant is standing behind Tony, holding him steady, a dagger at his throat.
Loki’s teeth grind. The Variant points at the scepter in his hand and curls a beckoning finger.
Loki frowns. Very well. He spins the staff around his back, whirling it in a flourish before tossing it to the Variant. The robed figure releases Tony and catches the staff.
Tony wheels, aiming at the Variant but an emerald aura envelops the figure. They vanish into a collapsing void. Tony’s shot pelts the wall, scattering debris into the air.
“Fuck!” Tony snarls, marching to the last place he saw the Variant. His head sweeps the room before he spins to face Loki. “Why the fuck did you do that?”
Loki just grins. He reaches behind his back and the real scepter appears as he arcs it around his body. “I suppose the Variant will be rather cross wherever he has gone.”
Tony’s mouth goldfishes a couple times before he clamps it shut.
“My, my,” Loki says smugly. “Did I just render the great Tony Stark speechless?”
Tony buzzes his lips, “Don’t call me Tony,” his voice dips casually, “Doesn’t sound right coming from you Asgardians.”
Loki tosses him the scepter, “Do you trust me yet?”
Tony catches it in one hand and wiggles the other, “Maybe 25% more than earlier.”
“Tony?” Both of their heads turn when they hear Bruce calling.
Tony pales. His knuckles whiten around the staff, his eyes flashing toward Loki. “Hide.”
“What?” Loki bursts, “Don’t be absurd. I--”
Tony thrusts the scepter at him, “Hide. Or I’ll make you do it.”
Loki backs up, alarmed.
“Tony, what--”
Tony holds up a hand to silence Pepper. He jerks the scepter at Loki who throws up his palms. “Alright, alright.” He lowers himself to a crouch, seeking a hiding spot. Eugh. A space beneath a grimy cabinet. He looks back at Tony, giving him an are you serious? look, but Stark is adamant.
Fine. Ugh.
Loki squirms under the cabinet, attempting to be silent but his mind brimming with curses he’d love to fling at Stark.
Loki listens as Tony and Bruce speak. Tony sounds almost manic. The mind stone must be playing tennis with his paranoia. Likely that is what prompted him to make Loki hide.
Pitiful humans. Their minds simply cannot handle such power. Loki will have to make sure to keep it out of their hands as much as possible.
Loki shifts, his elbows propping him off the grimy floor. Eugh. It’s clear Stark doesn’t clean under here. Every time Loki breathes, he can feel dust particles sift into his nostrils.
He steeples his hands over his mouth and nose, creating a triangular shield with his fingers but he fears it’s futile. His nose already tickles like hell and…
“Hhh…” even scrubbing at it “Ghhh…” isn’t Hhhhelping.
The feeling peaks and Loki attempts to stifle, “Hgshx!” Eh-fuck, “XSZH!” That just made it “ZHX!” tickle “HNGSZZH!” more-- “Hiegh’SSHZZ-ih!”
Damn. That last one definitely made a sound. Loki freezes, his spine like iron. He listens as the conversation pauses.
“What was that?” Bruce asks.
Pepper coughs, “Sorry, that was me.”
Again, Potts comes to Loki’s defense. Why?
“You still recovering, Pep?” Tony asks.
“Must be.”
Tony and Bruce finish their conversation and when Loki is sure Banner has retreated up the stairs, he slides out from under the cabinet. Pepper and Bruce are both gone. She must have escorted him out of the room. The scepter has been replaced in its holder. Thank the Stars.
“What the,” Tony snickers when he sees Loki. “You look like a very tall dust bunny.”
Loki’s face twists, “Wh--how dare you--”
Tony barks a laugh, “It’s even funnier when you talk!”
Loki huffs and flexes his fists. Green magic stutters down his body, cleaning away the dust and grime like wiping a blackboard. Loki, now clean and prim, folds his arms to wait for Tony to stop laughing.
“Are you quite finished? Because we do have problems to solve.”
“Yep,” another snort, “I’m done.”
This close to him, it’s easy to see the toll the virus has already taken. Dark circles spreading like bruises under his eyes. A milky sheen to his irises. Nostrils pink and at attention, as if he might sneeze at any moment.
As if sensing Loki’s thoughts, Tony’s nostrils flare and he sniffles.
Loki lifts his hand, “May I?”
Tony’s ducks away with his famous bewildered expression, “Ah, no, I don’t think so.”
“Stark--”
“Still don’t like you calling me that.”
“Oh, apologies,” Loki presses a palm to his heart, “Shall I call you Iron Man?”
“Maybe just ‘sir’. I think that’d make my day.”
Loki laughs, “Oh I’m sure, Mister Stark.”
Tony hums, “Getting closer.”
“Don’t tempt me, Stark. I could do so much to you.”
Tony’s lips tick up, “Here for less than an hour and you’re already propositioning me. I’d say that’s a record, but I’ve had people in less.”
Loki reaches out for his head again, “Hold still.”
Tony jerks back. “First of all, I don’t answer to you, dust bunny.”
“Please do not call me that.”
“Second, how would you keep the scepter safe? What can you do that the group of us--your brother--can’t.”
He had to bring up Thor…
“I’ll give you a list too, then. First, you may not answer to me, but you should listen to me, as I have knowledge about the powers you humans are playing with.”
“Don’t get arrogant about it.”
Loki sputters, “Alright, kettle.”
Tony’s eyes squeeze shut. He washes a palm over his face, the act making him look exhausted. “Fine,” he says. “Stay. Keep an eye on the staff. Do,” he flutters his hand, “whatever it is you do.” Tony turns toward the stairs. “But I don’t want you to stir things up. I’m throwing a party soon.”
Loki chuffs, “A party? You’re going to invite a throng of strangers to the place you’re stashing the scepter?”
“Don't fret. You’re here to make sure it’s safe and sound, right?” His voice oozes patronization. Loki wrenches against the emotions it dregs up. He will not fall for Tony Stark’s charm.
“It’s a bad idea, Stark.”
“I can do--hhh--” Tony hurriedly knuckles his nose, “whatev…” he angrily clamps his hand over his mouth, “HGSH!”
“And you’re ill. Do you humans not understand contagion?”
“It’s just a cold,” Tony sniffles. “Everyone gets sick on Earth, your highness.”
Loki opens his mouth to argue but he bites it back.
Should he mention the virus? If Stark is already sick, perhaps it wasn’t the Asgardian virus after all. And Stark’s trust is already brittle. If he thinks Loki or Thor has brought a deadly virus to them, he may insist they leave.
Loki can’t risk it. He’ll stay long enough to keep an eye out for both the Variant and signs of the virus. And, he supposes, it would be wise for now to keep himself under wraps.
Loki bows to Tony, “As you wish, Mister Stark.”
Tony’s lips crimp. He hesitates a moment, then heads upstairs.