Chapter 1
This was quickly becoming one of the most stressful days of Steve’s life. When Thor had arrived before dawn, and had immediately pulled Loki into a hug, Steve had breathed a sigh of relief and assumed that now Loki had another protector. Thor would never allow anyone to abuse his little brother, especially not now that he had just gotten him back, right? That had seemed obvious.
But, over the course of the ensuing hour, Steve had learned a thing or two about Asgardian notions of honor. Honor; he was starting to hate that word. What honor was there in beating up someone who was without their usual defenses, and who had surrendered peacefully? Was it honor to take your revenge on someone who, as far as Steve could tell, had never even wanted to commit the wrongs that were being avenged?
He had said as much, and a whole lot more, to Clint, to Thor, to Nat and Bruce and Dr. Levitt, and finally to Fury and Hill when they showed up. It didn’t do any good. Even the people who were sympathetic to his arguments acted as if the whole thing was inevitable at this point. Thor just looked forbidding and Teutonic, and said that Loki had accepted the challenge. Bruce shrugged and said there was no law against two consenting adults slugging it out in a boxing ring. Dr. Levitt had said, rather opaquely, that some people could only learn from mistakes, before she and Loki disappeared into her office.
Steve felt ready to tear his hair out, and then, then he had learned that Clint wasn’t going to be in one of the regular, everyday Iron Man suits, oh no, he would be wearing that oversized abomination that Tony had used to destroy an elevator and terrorize Loki with yesterday. Everyone was calling it ‘the God-Killer.’ Steve wanted to scream.
Bruce offered to prescribe him something called a ‘zanecks,’ but it would probably take more of them than Bruce could get on short notice to have any effect on supersoldier physiology, and anyway Steve had to stay alert in case Loki needed his help.
Of course, it was possible that Loki could win the fight. Even magicless and starved half to death, Steve had no doubt that he was formidable. Plus, he was the god of chaos, and probably wouldn’t be above cheating. Somehow that thought was the most comforting one that Steve could muster. But, win or lose, there was no way Loki was coming out of this fight uninjured. All Steve wanted to do was put Loki back together from his already-broken condition, and here was everybody else seemingly determined to break him down further.
And then there was Clint. As much as Steve was furious about the situation, he couldn’t entirely blame Clint, and he certainly didn’t want to see him get hurt either. No matter which way this fight turned out, it would be an absolute waste and a travesty, as far as Steve was concerned.
Steve was sitting at the island in the communal kitchen with Dr. Foster and her assistant, Miss Darcy, staring grimly at the grilled cheese sandwich they had put in front of him, when Natasha came in, looking bloodthirsty.
“They’re ready to start,” she said, and then led them all down to the fifth sub-basement.
There they filed into a room that Steve had never seen before. With its low, curved ceiling, it reminded him of a bunker or bomb shelter. There was a long, narrow window running the length of one wall at eye-level. As Steve stepped closer to this, he realized that it was looking out from floor height into another, much larger room which appeared to be carved from the solid bedrock. He could see the horrible suit of armor, presumably containing Clint, with Tony crouched by its ankle, fiddling with something. Behind Clint, Professor Selvig was standing with his shoulders squared and a hard glint in his eye.
After a few minutes, during which Tony finished whatever he was doing and vanished from Steve’s line of sight, a door opened in the far wall of the immense room, and Loki strode through. He was wearing what appeared to be a standard kevlar-reinforced SHIELD combat uniform with all of the SHIELD insignia removed, and he was flanked by Thor and Dr. Levitt. The look on his face was one that Steve hadn’t seen there in over two years. He looked dangerous and insane. He looked gleefully evil.
Steve actually had to turn his back to the window, and fight down something that was clawing at the inside of his chest. This wasn’t right. Everything about this was all wrong. This wasn’t Loki. This wasn’t the wide-eyed, trembling person that Steve had held in his arms last night. If this stupid, pointless fight pushed Loki back into the mindset he had been in two years ago, that would be to the detriment of everybody, possibly the whole world. Steve had to do something.
He turned on his heel, and charged out of the room. A dim hallway outside seemed to run parallel to the wall of the huge stone room, and Steve rushed along it, looking for a way in. Suddenly a small door opened and Steve almost trampled Tony coming out.
“Wow, okay, good morning to you too,” Tony yelled after him, as Steve roughly pushed past him and ran down the much shorter and narrower hallway behind the door. At the other end, another strangely small door let him into the stone room.
Steve crossed its great floor, not even sparing a glance for Clint in his horrible contraption, and pulled up face to face with Loki.
Loki’s psychotic expression didn’t falter as he turned his attention to Steve, but as soon as their eyes met, Steve recognized it for what it was – a mask. Loki was hiding behind it, simply wearing it into battle. Steve felt a headrush, his relief was so profound.
He stepped in closer, so that he could speak to Loki in an undertone.
“You don’t have to do this. Call it off, now.”
A wicked, knife-like smile crept across Loki’s face, making him look positively hateful. “I am Loki,” he said, his voice just as quiet but somehow more carrying than Steve’s. “I don’t have to do anything. Remember that, Rogers.”
Steve took another step, until he could practically whisper into Loki’s ear, “You don’t want to do this.”
Loki turned to look him in the eye, their faces scant inches apart. Now he spoke for Steve’s ears alone, and his evil smile was tempered, for just a moment, with genuine humor. “You don’t know what I want.”
Steve searched the pale face and indescribable eyes. Was Loki throwing back Steve’s own words from last night?
Loki’s smile turned nasty again. “But I can assure you, Captain, that I do.”
Then Steve was being firmly ushered away by Thor, and the two of them and Dr. Levitt and Professor Selvig were all exiting by the little door Steve had left open.
In something of a daze, Steve found himself back in the room with the long, low window. Director Fury, Agent Hill, and Tony had joined Natasha, Dr. Foster, and Miss Darcy at some point, and now, with Thor, Professor Selvig, Dr. Levitt, and Steve himself all milling around in it, the room felt over-full and claustrophobic. Only Bruce was missing, which was to be expected since he always avoided violence when he could, and was probably heading the medical team that Steve very much hoped was standing by.
Tony was bragging about something.
“–bulletproof, fireproof, explosion-proof, hell, it’s probably meteor-proof, nine and a half inches thick but clear as crystal, with a refractive index closer to air than glass-” He flicked the window with the nail of his forefinger. Steve wished he would stop talking, and nobody else seemed to be paying him any attention.
Beyond the window, in the huge room, Clint and Loki were standing very still, forty feet apart.
Steve felt a painful clutching behind his ribs. Loki stood so straight, looking small and defiant before the God-Killer. His hair was pulled back into a tight braid, the length of which was tucked down the back of his collar. Steve remembered the feel of that silky hair sliding between his fingers. The SHIELD uniform added bulk to Loki’s tall figure, but Steve remembered the protruding ribs, the sharp edges of shoulder blades, the bumps of Loki’s spine against his palms. Loki wore his maniacal battle-face, but Steve could only see the searching, vulnerable expression from the night before.
Loki sneered and said something to Clint.
“Don’t worry about what they’re saying, all of that will come through on the video footage. We can watch this every Sunday for years, if it’s a good fight. Which it will be; that’s a Stark suit out there-”
“Tony,” Steve barked, “Shut up.”
The God-Killer charged forward suddenly. It was so huge and heavy that a faint thudding could be felt even through the solid bedrock of the floor. Loki whirled aside at the last moment, spinning out of Clint’s grasp, laughing. The suit spun just as fast, though, and caught him a ferocious backhand. Loki flew twenty feet through the air, close to the ground, landed rolling, and was back on his feet in a fighting stance. The God-Killer was upon him, Clint grabbing with both hands, trying to bear Loki down. Loki braced his feet and took the pressure, jeering up into Clint’s faceplate.
It was astonishing to see Loki’s human-sized form holding up under the weight and strength of a machine the size of a tank. Steve’s heart leapt with hope.
Then Clint, frustrated, flung Loki against the nearest wall. Loki struck somewhere directly above the unbreakable window, and everyone in the observation room jerked. Loki crashed down nearly within arm’s reach of them, but again he was on his feet almost instantaneously. He was still grinning, and his eyes were bright with an unhealthy glitter. He ran straight at Clint, who was running straight at him. Loki ducked just before impact and caught the thigh-joint of the suit on his shoulder, heaving upwards in a smooth, powerful movement that pitched the God-Killer up and over its own center of gravity, smashing it headfirst into the ground.
The suit was surprisingly fast and organic in its motion but Loki was, of course, more so. Clint got the suit’s feet back under him and leapt at Loki from all fours, like an animal. Loki jumped at the same time, and arced right up and over the suit’s back, flipping in the air, and landing exactly where Clint had taken off from.
Jiminy, Steve thought, He could barely walk yesterday, and now, with a half-pint of ice cream, a hot shower, and a good night’s sleep, he’s putting up a darn good show against one of SHIELD’s deadliest agents wearing Tony’s scariest suit. If this is Loki in a weakened state, what the heck does he look like at his best? It was almost frightening to contemplate. Except that frightened was not what Steve felt about it.
The crowd in the observation room, so far, had been held in breathless silence, but now, finally, one of Clint’s blows landed solidly. Loki was punched down, and then the suit was on top of him, squatting over him, holding him to the floor with one huge hand while the other hammered down on him again and again. Noise erupted from the watchers, cheers and cries of shock. Steve pressed his hands to the glass (or glass-like substance), and was yelling who knows what.
It looked absolutely brutal. No human could have survived a fraction of the punishment that Loki was taking, but it was impossible to see if Loki was bleeding or broken – or dead – because the mass of the suit’s leg was blocking the view.
Steve turned, frantic, and saw Thor standing impassive with his arms folded. His face looked hard in a way that was utterly foreign to Steve’s concept of his genial teammate.
“Thor, we’ve got to stop this!” Steve cried, over the heads of the other watchers.
Thor looked at him, and Steve sucked in a breath to see the anguish in his eyes, so at odds with his steely expression. He gave a single shake of his head, and turned his attention back to the fight.
Another sharp cry arose from the crowded room, and Steve whipped his head around to see what had caused it.
Loki had managed to dig his fingers into the wrist-joint of the fist that had been pummeling him, halting Clint’s attempts to draw it back for another blow. As Clint raised one knee from the ground to gain leverage, Loki was able to curl up underneath him. Planting both feet against the suit’s pelvis, Loki gave an explosive push, and the God-Killer did a full somersault off of him.
This time Loki wasn’t on his feet again instantly. He struggled onto his side, and then his knees, got one foot under himself, and staggered upright just as Clint lunged at him. Loki grabbed the incoming hand, gave a full-body twist, and wrenched it right off of the suit. Tony hollered a cuss-word that would have appalled Steve at any other time.
The God-Killer now had only a left hand. Loki flung the giant metal fist aside, and it careened across the floor to come up against a corner of the room. Loki tossed back a few strands of hair that had come loose from his braid, and another wave of exclamation arose from the watchers when they saw his face. He was totally undamaged. No blood, no bruises, not even any visible sweat. His smile had only become more obnoxious, and he called out something that they couldn’t hear, beckoning Clint forward with both hands.
*****
The fight continued for another two hours. The suit took a great deal of damage, losing panels from both shins and the back, and getting dented out of shape around the shoulders and thighs. Part of the face-plate came off, followed soon after by part of the chest-guard. Sparks were sputtering out of the back of the right knee for a while, and when they stopped, rivulets of blue liquid could be seen coursing down the metal, and the whole leg seemed sluggish. Tony muttered to himself non-stop.
Loki also began to show damage. Blood was dripping from his hairline, and one side of his face was purple, though not swollen, after the first hour. During the second hour, something seemed to go wrong with his right arm, and he held it tucked against his chest, doing everything left-handed from then on. His recovery time lagged, and his dodges began to slow, until Clint was able to catch him on more than half his tries.
When Loki didn’t move at all after one particularly crushing blow, Steve tried to escape the viewing room, and was stopped by Thor blocking his way.
“Do not attempt to interfere, Captain,” Thor said, “Loki will not thank you.”
Steve clenched his jaw and glared for all he was worth, “I don’t care if he thanks me or stabs me, this needs to end.”
“A balancing ends when the challenger is satisfied.”
Steve turned to Natasha, furious, “This has gone on long enough. What will it take to satisfy Clint?”
She no longer looked bloodthirsty, just grim. “Loki’s death.”
Steve threw himself at Thor, yanking at him. “He’s going to kill him,” he was panting, “Clint’s going to kill him.”
“Captain! Steve Rogers! Restrain yourself!” Thor was fighting back only to keep Steve in the room.
Steve tripped Thor and crashed down on top of him, and then they were wrestling in earnest, Thor trying to keep a harmless hold on Steve, and Steve using every dirty trick he knew to escape.
Fury said something, and then Agent Hill was stepping in close and there was a pinprick at Steve’s neck. His vision went blurry and his fingers would no longer grasp tightly.
Time went a little funny while Steve sat in a chair with his elbows on his knees, Thor’s warm hand resting on his shoulder. He knew that Clint and Loki were still fighting, but he wasn’t sure what he had meant to do about it.
“He’s stopped!” said Miss Darcy, after an indeterminate length of time. Her voice came to Steve as if he was underwater. Then he was being hauled to his feet by Thor’s hands under his armpits, and everybody was talking at once, and moving. Now that he was standing up, Steve could see through the window again, and he noticed a group of medics crouched around a supine form in black. A second person in black knelt beside the first, in the way of the medics but refusing to be moved.
At first Steve thought it was Loki, but both figures in black couldn’t be Loki, could they? Then he saw the God-Killer sitting nearby like a broken doll, its torso splayed open, empty.
“What’s Clint doing?” Steve slurred. He couldn’t tell if he felt worried about Clint kneeling beside Loki. No one answered his question.
Then he blinked, and he and Thor were standing behind the medics, in the huge room. There were swathes of blood on the floor and walls. Clint got up and turned to face Thor. He looked profoundly exhausted, and on the verge of tears for some reason.
“Will he live?” he asked Thor, and then Thor was inexplicably pulling him into a hug and patting his back.
Steve looked down at the still figure on the floor. Most of its clothing had been cut away, and the emaciated chest was bared. Purple and black mottled every visible inch of skin, and there was a great deal of gleaming red. The medics appeared to be struggling to pierce the ribcage with an enormous needle.
Steve dropped to his knees and put out a hand. He touched the black-gloved hand of the figure, and it closed around his like a wolf-trap. Steve was slammed with a wall of pure happiness, but he had no idea what it related to. His vision went blurry again. He touched his eyes and felt wetness there. After that, he didn’t remember anything.