164Disclaimer: Nothing from this Marvelous universe is mine.
Summary: Written for a prompt on Norsekink.
Loki captures himself some avengers and puts a spell on them so that they can't attack him. The weird thing is, he's not torturing them or trying very hard to get them to tell him any secrets. He mostly seems content to hang around and ramble at them, treating them more like friends/pets than prisoners. They soon realize the sad truth: Loki is desperate for companionship, but far too messed up to make connections the normal way. He can only relax around them, because he has complete control over the situation.
Captive Guests
"The hell Loki, what did you do," says Tony, trying to aim a punch at Thor's psycho little brother and unexpectedly unable to clench his hands into a fist. Worse, unable to swing in the right direction at all.
His palm strikes the wall, not as hard as it should have done given the force of his blow.
Bruce, too, stiffens because Hulk won't smash and that's always a bad sign. In fact, Hulk is so far from smashing Bruce can't even get green. If he can't smash, he can't escape.
Not that there is any way out of the metal prison cell. Whatever Loki has reinforced it with is strong. They'd been stupid to split up like that in hindsight, but no one had expected Loki to have access to sleeping spells. Bruce expects an interrogation when the skinny Asgardian appears inside their cell. Tony expects something a little more extreme. It doesn't stop him lashing out at the so-called God of Lies.
Loki laughs, but that isn't strange. His eyes are more insane than usual.
"You cannot harm me directly, puny mortals, or take any actions which might do so," Loki explains, clenching a fist for dramatic emphasis and smiling a shark-like grin. It's extraordinarily charismatic in that too-thin, too-pale face.
Tony swears again. Bruce frowns.
"What do you mean to do with us?" he asks.
Because unless Loki wants to hit them inside the cell without them hitting back, that spell is pretty pointless. And though obscure and, Tony and Bruce agree on this, insane, Loki is seldom, if ever, without purpose.
"Why, I intend to keep you. It isn't fair that Thor has all of you."
Bruce's gaze slips to Tony's and the genius mouths 'batshit insane'. Bruce can't say he disagrees.
But the metal doors slide open at a touch and Loki is walking out. They follow because really, what else is there to do?
He doesn't lead them to a torture chamber. He doesn't even lead them to another cell. He leads them to a comfortable lounge room and offers—yes offers —them a drink. Bruce refuses. He doesn't trust Loki and he doesn't like him. He does sit down though. The couches are probably stolen and definitely expensive. They're very soft. The covers are fine white leather.
Tony accepts the drink. But maybe that's because he literally cannot operate without alcohol. He is rewarded with a wide smile.
Loki sits down and pulls out a laptop, humming an off-key tune which might or might not be an ABBA song. His fingers glow green over the keys for a moment, and then he's tapping away, lost in the world of the virtual computer.
Tony finishes the drink.
"So," he says, "How come you can work a computer? Thor can't operate the waffle iron."
Loki looks up with a smile.
"Unlike that idiotic oaf, I am capable of reading an instruction manual."
He sounds pleased, and Bruce wonders if that is just because he is insulting Thor. Probably.
Tony eyes the demigod sideways.
"So, how long did it take you to grasp the technology?"
"Oh, not more than a few days. It took me longer to rewire the technology so that only those with the correct magical signature had access. So easy, is it not, to forge such simple details as fingerprints and passwords? Still, one cannot expect much more from such mortals as yourself who like to design everything to distance themselves from reality," Loki rambles.
He's not tapping on the keys now. But Bruce feels his heart sink at the magical access part. No easy escape route there then.
Loki sighs, glancing at the still screen showing who-knew-what.
"You see the war? The suffering you mortals inflict on eachother? How much simpler everything would be if I were to rule you! A king who could stop your wars, and your starvation and your energy problems. Who could create a utopiaof peace and wealth, all united under myself. The nine realms would be forced to recognise us!"
Tony rolls his eyes.
"Yeah. Because blowing up everyone who doesn't want you is a great way to win love and devotion."
"You are naive mortal. How long would your precious peace last if your world faced a true crisis. Global disease? Starvation? Your weapons won't solve that. You'd be begging those of us with true power to help," Loki says.
But he isn't sneering. He sounds, if anything, like a dedicated debater might when they've found an opponent with a firm enough conviction in an opposite belief to offer them a challenge.
Tony looks like he's picked up on that too.
"Yeah. And maybe if you spent more time solving those problems and less time causing them we might be a little more enthusiastic about you."
"Blowing up downtown every Thursday doesn't cause world poverty or disease," Loki scoffs, "But it could, perhaps, be argued that your precious economy causes the problems by exploiting those who know no better. Ignorant fools who allow you to take from them at a pittance things which are sold for ten times as much back home.
"Besides, even exploiting others you still spend more than you earn. You are like naive children, hoping that if you keep on borrowing more money to pay off your debts you will be safe."
Tony raises an eyebrow.
Bruce decides to chip in.
"Money used to fund hospitals, you mean, for people whose limbs are blown off or who've been burned and shot for no other reason than that they were 'in the way'. Money used to rebuild the homes that get blown up and fix the streets."
Loki shrugs.
"They are in a war zone. If your government plans to use human shields and places its army near civilian targets that's hardly my fault if they get caught in the crossfire."
He must see the disbelief on their faces because he adds:
"In Asgard. In Alfheim, even," his lip curls and his voice goes icy, "in Jotenheim, the civilians are kept away from the war zones. If we don't want our enemies targeting our people, we don't hide behind them like a wolf behind a pug saying 'don't swing; you might hit the wrong target'."
Tony whistles.
"That's a pretty tall order, y'know. Evacuate a few hundred million people because, hey, some insane demigod wants to blow up your homes."
Loki smiles thinly.
"Then think of me as a hurricane. An unstoppable force of destruction you know will destroy your homes. Do you not evacuate then? Be honest, if you truly were not using your civilians as human shields, you wouldn't evacuate them when fires or floods came either. But I see through your ploys. You think the guilt of harming the innocents you place in my way will stop me. You think me tame. It will not and I am not."
Bruce frowns because he can half see the reasoning and that bothers him.
Tony, who used to design weapons, has an easier time voicing the flaws in Loki's logic.
"Bullshit. We think natural disasters are mindless and indiscriminate forces of total destruction. We assume they aren't going to think about their targets because they don't have a brain to think with. I, for one, give you a little more credit than that. What the hell do you gain by throwing a car on Betty down the road who likes to sew on Wednesdays and cries herself to sleep each night with Billy Joel? We expect you to ignore the civilians and target the military."
Loki frowns at last.
"Are not the bombs used in your pathetic Iraq war blowing up civilians? Why then am I, the villain, expected to show honour when you, the heroes, do not?"
Tony was silent, because there were very few places he could go without digging himself into a rut.
"The difference," Bruce says, because someone should, "Is that those people were already in a war zone. We're trying to make things better. You brought war to a peaceful country."
At last Bruce seems to confuse the demigod.
"But are you not all in the same realm? Am I not showing courage by targeting the strongest part of your realm and leaving the unprotected outskirts alone? Are you not a conglomeration of Warlords engaged in civil war, with no true ruler to lead you?"
Loki's forehead is creased and there is a certain force to his questions, as though he is speaking rhetorically and doesn't see the flaw in his logic.
Bruce sighs. Tony groans.
"We have countries. Each country has one ruler. Don't you have that?" Tony asks.
Loki blinks.
"No. All the other eight realms are ruled by one King," he says, as though this is obvious and it is Tony who is backwards, "Why share one realm's power amongst a hundred?"
"I need another scotch," Tony says, and stalks abruptly over to the drinks counter.
They don't revisit the topic, and when Loki eventually takes them to their rooms the beds are comfortable. Green and warm.
When he watches the footage of the Thursday attack he can't help noticing that the blasts seem at least to be aimed at the military now.
OoOoOoOoO
They talk to Loki fairly often over the next two weeks. They don't give up trying to escape and Loki treats stopping them as a game.
He's still insane and he still blows things up every Thursday, and when he gets back from doing it he looks like he's been hit by a hail of boulders. But he doesn't ask them any questions about SHIELD or security.
He argues about whether or not Madonna can sing and whether people see colour differently so that everyone sees themselves wearing green and gold and everyone else sees them looking silly. Sometimes Bruce has to remind himself Loki is their enemy.
Then Doom visits.
They expect something... different.
They expect Loki to be more like he is with them because they had decided this was his I'm-not-trying-to-blow-you-up-now mode. But when the doors open and Doom enters, the change is as sudden and noticeable as clouds over the sun.
Loki's smile doesn't change but there's something tight about the eyes. And when Tony opens his mouth for a snarky comment on the armour, nothing comes out.
"Victor," Loki says with a smile, "Do come in."
'Victor' does and the couch creaks under the weight of his armour. The demigod doesn't offer him a drink and Doom doesn't ask. His metallic face is unreadable as it scans the room.
"Avengers, Loki?" he says.
"My pets," Loki says, with a wave of one arm, "They cannot harm me and it annoys Thor."
There is genuine delight in his tone and he rubs one arm absently. It's the one he hasn't been typing with since Thursday.
Tony mouths 'pets' in what would probably have been an indignant squawk if he'd had a voice.
Doom shrugs.
"So, Victor, how did the time capsules go?"
"Doom's capsules went poorly," Doom says stoically, "Richards disposed of them before Doom could trigger them properly and in the end a very old daschund got turned into a puppy. The owner was pleased."
Doom sounds as happy as Bruce would be if he'd smashed in a hospital as the Hulk.
Loki looks wary. His smile fades and he taps one set of fingers rhythmically along the couch arm.
"How... disappointing."
Doom moves in his seat and shifts an arm to make himself more comfortable. Loki's response is so fast Bruce can barely see it. There is suddenly an opaque barrier of green between the two supervillains, surrounding Loki like a dirty fishbowl. Loki's eyes are narrowed.
Doom might have raised an eyebrow beneath the mask.
"Doom is not about to strike you, Loki."
The barrier holds another instant, than flickers into nothingness.
"My apologies, Victor," Loki says, "One can never be too certain... I did advise you to use them after all."
Victor nods carelessly, dismissing the matter.
Tony is chewing his lower lip thoughtfully. Bruce is wondering just how many times in the past Loki got punished for offering unhelpful advice. Often enough, if that tense, wary attitude was instinctive.
Doom doesn't stay long. He says it's because there is no point fine-tuning evil plans with a bunch of heroes listening in. He asks Loki to plot with him in Latveria for the evening. Loki refuses. Doom doesn't seem surprised. He says he'll call ahead next time so Loki has time to remove the heroes to a different room. Or cell. And then he's gone in an impressive swirl of purple.
The tightness behind Loki's eyes and the tension between his shoulders seems to drain with Doom's departure. And when Tony says 'creepy' he makes noise again.
"It is not," Loki defends carelessly.
Bruce wonders whether Loki even knows what Tony was referring to.
"It is too. You can't see his face and he refers to himself in the third person," Tony argues reasonably.
Bruce thinks he sounds like a three year old.
Loki grins, a proper one that crinkles his eyes and crunches up his face to reveal white teeth. Battle, most enjoyable, is joined.
It's another two hours before they go to bed that night.
That night, Bruce lies awake for a while wondering just why Loki seems to relax around himself and Tony. He thinks of the tense, deranged madness around Thor. The wary watchfulness around Doom. He wonders if it's only because Loki knows they can't—not won't—can't hurt him.
It's a long time before he sleeps properly.
OoOoOoOoO
"Hey, scrawny, you OK?" Tony says the next Thursday after Loki stumbles in the door looking like, forget stones, he's been pounded by meteors.
"I am taller than you," Loki huffs, but he manages to make it over to the couch and sink down. His armour is battered and broken in parts, and there is the sickly scent of ozone in the air.
"I'm well built though. You're built like starved cow. Especially with the horns," Tony says, raking Loki's frame with a searching look.
Loki grins weakly. He doesn't reply though.
His eyes slip closed.
"Thor do that to you?" Tony asks, and he sounds like he's trying hard not to sound annoyed.
Loki cracks open one eye.
"I may or may not be exaggerating my treatment of you," he admits.
And then he's either asleep or unconscious. Either way, he's snoring faintly in a way he'd probably deny when Tony teased him about it later. Tony sits down next to him, and gives him a poke, only to have his hand slip down and prod the couch instead. Tony sighs.
"The damage must be bad then, if touching him hurts," Bruce says quietly.
Tony nods and trots back to his room to fetch a blanket.
Bruce looks at the young face beneath the bruises and reminds himself again that Loki isn't a friend and that he is probably a whole lot older than he looks. There are dark circles beneath his eyes. And he looks unpleasantly small, even though he dwarfs Tony and Bruce when standing.
Tony arrives back with two of the thick blankets, 'just in case he gets cold'. He spreads them over the battered form of their enemy. Then he flicks on the news.
"We could escape, you know," Bruce says, and Tony looks confused.
Possibly because their most recent plan involved hacking into Loki's servers by bypassing the magic barrier and somehow ended up teleporting them both into an Inception-worthy dream-world in which they had to cook spaghetti for seven hundred people in one night.
They were busy dodging the mob chasing them and arguing about who was to blame for their meal tasting like rotten sock when Loki had arrived. They'd found themselves on the couch with the stolen laptop in their hands, and Loki had said something smug about magical traps.
"We could escape," Bruce says again.
Tony spares him an interested look.
"I think I'm almost angry enough to Hulk out," Bruce admits, "And I doubt he can stop me."
Tony shrugs.
"Go for it big guy. If it doesn't work we're no worse off."
Bruce summons all the anger he can and changes.
He punches through a wall. Some alarms start peeping. Hulk smiles a toothy grin. He smashes through a second wall. Hulk tried this in week one. Loki put him to sleep again. But Loki is on the sofa now...
Hulk turns back into Bruce mid-swing at wall three and trots back to Loki.
Tony's still watching the news, where a very green figure is getting pummelled by a very angry red figure.
"No good?" Tony asks, eyes on the screen.
"No good," Bruce lies, because somehow it feels like cheating, escaping like this.
Tony shrugs.
"Next time, buddy," he says, "Next time."
OoOoOoOoO
Loki sleeps poorly. He looks uncomfortable and keeps on muttering "no father" and "please". Tony says he wishes he hadn't studied Norse Mythology at high school. Bruce didn't and he doesn't ask.
Loki wakes the next morning looking waxy and tired, like he hasn't slept for a week instead of having just woken up after twelve hours of it.
"You are still here," the dark-haired demigod observes cautiously, fiddling with the blanket with something approaching confusion.
"Yeah. Hulk couldn't smash properly. Right Bruce?"
Bruce nods silently.
Loki looks suspicious.
And then Tony looks suspicious, which is more dangerous.
"That is right, isn't it Bruce?"
"Um. Maybe?" Bruce offers weakly.
Tony groans.
Loki's doesn't say anything. His eyes flick uncertainly between Tony and Bruce. A wave of one slender arm restores the wall. A second wave and his armour and helmet are gone. He is just wearing his pirate leathers now which look a whole lot classier than they should. He still has that huge-eyed look.
Bruce realises what that expression means four seconds faster than Tony.
You can't handle anyone being voluntarily nice to you.
That night, when they make pop-tarts, Loki actually offers Tony one of the strawberry ones.
OoOoOoOoO
The next day, Thor arrives. They find out later teleportation can be tracked by someone called Strange.
Loki is gone in a mad ripple of laughter before Mjolnir can hit his chest, but since he teleports to the statue of Liberty and then apparently took a taxi, no one can work out where he went.
Thor seems to be relieved his friends haven't been tortured. Fury's glad to get the source of fully half the Avenger's funding back. Strange manages to lift the Anti-Loki-Bashing charm.
And so Tony and Bruce are back to watching Clint and Tasha disappear to who knows where all day, and smelling the interesting odour which heralds any attempt at cooking from Thor and Captain America. Back to their regular routines of lab work and engineering.
And Bruce is back to being quietly treated like a ticking time bomb by everyone but Tony and Thor (the former doesn't care and the latter can deal with the Hulk) and Tony is back to causing offense whenever he lets out another snarky insult (again, Thor and Bruce are the exceptions, and Bruce now credits a lifetime of Loki for that).
And on the fifth day, on Wednesday, they both receive a flashing green text message.
Coffee at Ponnard's? 12:00 L.L
Four minutes later, as Loki taps away at his laptop his stolen iPhone buzzes.
Sounds good B.B
You're paying T.S
Fin.