Clint held his bow tightly in his hand, trying to focus on anything other than the pain in his knee as Iron Man carried him into the cabin and settled him on the couch. Stark had just got a bag of frozen peas duct taped around the archer's knee when Thor burst through the door dragging a bound Loki behind him.
Throwing the captive onto the nearest chair, Thor turned around to glare at Fenrir as he trailed in behind Steve, his tail between his legs. "I didn't bring him here," snapped the wolf, defensive despite being worn out from tangling with the trickster.
"First you appear, then Loki, from parts unknown and yet you claim they are unrelated. What evil have you crawled into bed with?" roared the thunder god, taking a menacing step towards Fenrir.
"Oh, I assure you, both things are very connected," taunted Loki, offering a particularly twisted smile to Stark and Barton; both who were watching him intently from across the coffee table.
"Enough!" shouted Rogers, stepping in between Fenrir and Thor. "We need to figure out what's going on, not start with the infighting again."
The prisoner's sharp chuckle broke the tense silence that had settled in the wake of Rogers' order. "You truly are sad pathetic creatures. I can only hope that I am allowed to watch when you're finally crushed like the ants you are. You have no idea what's coming." Despite being held captive by the brother he loathed and three of the five Misgardians he would sell his soul to feel their skulls crushed between his fingers, Loki's smile never wavered.
"I find it hard to believe there could be a bigger pain in the ass than you out there Loki," retorted Tony, laying on his professional smugness.
Cocking his head to the side, Loki's eyes narrowed in on Tony. His eyes boring into the billionaire's, he let his acidic words flow, "You people are sheep, ambling along, gorging yourselves, unaware of the wolves descending upon you. You shouldn't worry yourselves with me, when there are much larger and more frightening things that go bump in the night. And they're coming, I've seen them."
Everyone was silent as they contemplated the possible doom lurking on the horizon. It was a possibility that slept in the back of everyone's mind, that something else was lurking in the darkness waiting to finish what the Chitauri had started. But could anything Loki said be more than posturing?
"He's a cheery short of fellow isn't he?" piped up Stark.
"Pathetic ramblings by a wretched soul," countered Thor, even as he searched his brother's eyes for the truth of the matter. Loki's banishment had sent him out alone, the likelihood was releasing Fenrir was a means to an end in some scheme to seek vengeance.
"For once in your life, use that big blond head of yours," snapped the trickster, "whether I like it or not, my fate is tied to that of Asgard. It is known too well that I was once a prince of Asgard, its rightful King who was dethroned, but I'm thrown in with you none the less. Unfortunately we have the same enemies. So it appears that the enemy of thy enemy is thy friend and you'd do well to untie me."
The trickster let out a sharp grunt as the familiar burn of an arrow tore its way through his other shoulder, pinning him to the lazy boy. The Avengers all turned to the archer propping himself awkwardly on the couch, bow clenched in his hand. A slight smile graced his lips balanced out by the faint look of shock on Loki's face.
"There aren't enough enemies between us for us to ever be friends," Clint snarled. Pointing to his shoulders, Barton chuckled, "Now you have a matching set."
"Stark, get him out of here," said Steve. He couldn't deny that he would love to knock Loki around himself. Hell, out of all of them, Clint probably deserved it more but it wasn't going to help anyone figure out the ultimate design of recent events.
Tony helped lift Clint up, wrapping the archer's arm around his neck, they slowly made their way to the kitchen. They paused just in front of Loki. Stark leaned forward, wrapping his hand around the embedded arrow. "Allow me to help you with that." A quick tug and grunt for the trickster, the arrow was free. "Better?"
"Quiet," mumbled the prisoner, not wanting to give his nemesis the satisfaction of seeing his pain.
The two men continued on to the kitchen, the smile never leaving Clint's face.
"I will take Loki back to Asgard where the Allfather will get him to tell us everything he has learned about possible new threats to Misgard," offered Thor, clamping a large hand on his brother's shoulder. "We would not be able to travel until tomorrow."
Steve paced back and forth in front of the couch. "Is there somewhere we can secure him until then?"
"The rope was sent by Heimdall, it will hold. That is the reason we must wait until tomorrow. I sought council with my father on the subject of Fenrir." The wolf bared his teeth at the mention of his name in conjunction with the Allfather but made no move to attack. Unfazed by his nephew's mild show of aggression, the thunder god continued, "The bifrost is not yet restored and the current methods of travel are very taxing. Hemidall will not be able to transport anything again until tomorrow."
"About that other matter..." Steve couldn't fight back the worry that he was going to fail Fenrir, the creature that dared to save his life and more recently the lives of his team.
"The Allfather has decided to reconsider. Fenrir will return with us to Asgard where he will be transported to another realm. He will be forced to stay there but free in his daily activities."
"So a prisoner with a larger, nicer cage."
"The threat from Fenrir still stands. This is the best the Allfather can do," assured Thor.
"And what if I refuse to go with you?" asked Fenrir, bitterness dripping from each word.
Thor readjusted his grip on his hammer. "You will come. This is not a game; the fate of all the realms hangs in the balance. It is bigger than any of us."
"And these are the people you've thrown your lot in with," interrupted Loki, glaring at Fenrir. The stare was so intense that the wolf almost let out a yelp as his but hit the floor under the sheer weight it. A momentary flicker of hurt danced in Loki's eyes at the mention of his son's recent choice.
Ignoring the trickster, Steve shot Thor a glare of his own. "That's the best you can do?" He wasn't delusional enough to believe that he could actually stop Thor from doing anything, especially if the rest of the team wasn't in agreement, but it just didn't feel right to treat Fenrir as a criminal.
"For now," gritted the thunder god through clenched teeth. He had tried to see his teammate's point of view but with the safety of his family and the universe at stake, it was hard to offer mercy, it was even harder to want to offer mercy. Loki had been given every advantage the house of Odin could bestow and still he didn't hesitate a second to turn on them. Neither of Fenrir's parents were honourable people, what hope could they have that he wouldn't fulfill the prophecy; his word would carry no weight.
Rogers could sense the uneasy acceptance radiating from Fenrir. He longed for the first days when it had just been the two of them existing in an easy companionship of man and wolf; things had been so much easier floating in that complicated sea of personal demons compared to trying to navigate the storm of distress they found themselves in now. Add to the complicated mix, the fact that Fenrir was being rewarded for saving them from Loki by being locked up as well and it almost became too much for the Captain to stomach. "Put Loki in the cellar. We don't need to listen to his lies anymore today."
Thor nodded, grabbing his brother none to gently before dragging him out of the room.
"Are you alright?" asked Steve, when Fenrir had failed to make a sound.
The wolf ducked his head. "There's nothing to be done, you know. When the Allfather has made his mind up, there's no changing it and there's no escaping it. I was a fool to think this would last; freedom is fleeting after all." The blond opened his mouth to speak but Fenrir shook his head. There were no words that were going to make it better, nothing to be said that would change the situation; it was over, the other side would be triumphant. "What's going to become of Loki?" he asked, his voice almost fond despite having taking action against the man moments earlier.
"He'll go back to Asgard, and after that it's up to Odin. I imagine this being his third strike it won't be pretty."
The terrible feeling of failure gnawed at Fenrir's insides. He knew he couldn't let his father hurt Rogers but it was hard to find solace in the fact that he facilitated his father's incarceration and punishment, which would probably be as horrible as the one Fenrir himself had escaped. "I'm going to go for a run. Probably be the last time I get to stretch my legs for awhile," said the wolf, misery evident in every word. "You can tell the warden not to worry, I'll be back."
Steve watched helplessly as Fenrir slunk out of the cabin. He never liked feeling powerless and lately it felt like he was drowning in it.
The door to the kitchen swung open and both occupants glanced over as Steve sauntered into the room. Tony had his phone pinched between his ear and his shoulder while he ran his hands over Barton's knee. The archer had propped himself up to watch Stark's ministrations as the man prodded at his injury; his face scrunching up every so often as Tony pressed a little too hard.
"No, that's definitely what it feels like," answered Stark into the phone. "Yeah, I'll pick that up and make sure he uses them. Thanks Bruce." Tony put the phone down and set to work duct tapping a bag of frozen carrots around the injured knee.
"How bad is it?" asked Rogers, nodding towards the man on the table. He had an uneasy feeling that with the way things had been going the archer probably suffered irreparable damage.
"Can't be sure without an x-ray," started the billionaire, giving Barton a stern look, "but based on the exam Banner walked me through and Hawkeye's extensive experience with injury, he probably set himself back by a couple of weeks."
Barton rolled his eyes but refused to engage in Tony's game. Besides, it was really a case of the pot calling the kettle black; when had Tony ever done the smart thing and tended to personal injury over backing the team.
"You should take him back to the city and have it properly looked at," stated Rogers.
"He's right here," interrupted Clint, gritting his teeth as he pulled himself to a sitting position, the knee refusing to unlock even an inch. "I'm not going anywhere while Loki's tied in the cellar and that wolf's lurking around."
"Bruce is calling in a prescription for some anti-inflammatory and painkillers at the local pharmacist. I'll go pick it up and he'll be fine until tomorrow," added Tony, trying to spare everyone one of Captain America's lectures. "And Banner wanted me to impart to you that he can be here as fast as SHIELD can move, all you have to do is give the word. I told him to wait on that. Figured if you wanted SHIELD to be aware of your meddling with Asgardian justice, you'd have called them already. For the record though, this is why Bruce doesn't do relaxing, stress free weekends with us apparently."
The statement might have been classic Stark but the sentiment behind leaving SHIELD out was refreshing. Of all the times Steve believed Stark would run to SHIELD, it would when he was trying to circumnavigate the organization for his own personal moral reasons. Turning to Clint, he asked, "You're sure?"
Grabbing his crutches from Tony, Barton slid off the table with a grace no injured person should possess. "I'm sure." The statement left no room for negotiation; the archer was staying no matter what and that was final.
Silence had descended upon the cabin as night blanketed the Earth. The Avengers turned in early slipping into uneasy sleep while Thor had volunteered to take first watch of the prisoner. Leaving Loki to sit in the darkness by himself, the thunder god took to pacing in front of the cellar access.
It was like a gentle whisper running up his arms, the sensation that stirred Loki out of his thoughts. "I wondered when you'd show up," commented Loki before raising his head to stare at his guest. "What did you do to Thor?"
Fenrir stared at his father for a moment, reconsidering everything he thought he wanted to say. "You're not the only one that learned a few tricks. The sleeping dust will ware off in a couple of hours, with no ill effects."
"Pitty," sneered Loki, flexing his wrists as best he could against his restraints. "Such treachery from my own offspring; I should be impressed. One can only hope their children will take after them."
"I'm nothing like you!" Fenrir growled, stomping his paw for added emphasise. The one thing he had promised himself during his years of captivity had been to never stand idly by while some was punished for who they were rather than what they had done. Loki's silence over the years had been the hardest betrayal he had ever had to suffer.
"Oh but you are. Unfortunately you betrayed the wrong person. I came here to assure your safety. You think you just happened to be released? You are a pawn in a much bigger game and as your father, I sought to remove you from this game," lectured the trickster. His smug look was tempered with concern and possibly guilt, hidden under his usual arrogance.
"Parent?" the wolf sputtered offended. "What minute are you referring to?" The silence stretched at Loki's lack of defence.
"Do you really want to go back to your prison?" The words were soft, full of sincerity and for a moment it succeeded in easing Fenrir's nerves.
Did the wolf want to go back to the life he had been forced to endure? The easy answer was a resounding no. Did Fenrir believe for one second that the Allfather would truly lessen his sentence? Again, no. Even if Rogers had sparked some reconsideration in Asgard, a gilded cage was still a cage.
The word was barley a whisper and Loki had to strain his ears to pick it up. "No." The simple answer held more defeat than the slumped posture of his son.
A sharp thud roused Steve from his restless sleep. A storm had blown in during the night causing the rain to beat down on the roof and the tree branches to smack against the window but that wasn't responsible for waking the Captain. He sat in bed listening for the disturbance again. Thud. Getting to his feet he left his room, creeping down the stairs so as not to give his position away.
There was no sign of Barton or Stark and for a moment, he thought he imagined it. Something banged again and Steve's spine locked as he realized what it was. The cellar door was wide open, the doors banging against the ground as the wind came up.
Steve shot from the cabin, frantically searching for any sign of his teammate, Fenrir or their captive. His heart almost stopped as he found Thor prone on the ground. Shaking fingers searched for a pulse, before slapping the larger man to wake him from his slumber. The thunder god didn't so much as stir. With no visible injuries, Steve dragged his unconscious friend onto the porch and set forth in search of the other Asgardians.
A deep sense of fear was burrowing into his soul. What if Loki had taken Fenrir? What if he had been too blind by morals to see this impending betrayal?
One moment Rogers was on his feet the next he was face down in the mud unable to move. Desperately he tried to get his limbs to cooperate but it felt as though a house had come crashing down on him. He did move under the force of a vicious kick knocking him onto his back. Blinking away the rainwater, Loki appeared towering over him.
"Well, well, if it isn't the soldier who thought he could turn my son against me," snapped Loki. The mischievous grin of the cat who caught the mouse on his pale face.
"There's nothing I could do to turn him against you. From what I understand, you did that yourself," replied Steve, bracing himself for another kick.
"I will relieve you of your burden of caring then," cackled Loki, raising his staff to deliver one final blow.
"Stop!" howled Fenrir. "If you want out of Misgard, then you have to leave him alone."
Loki paused mid motion, curling his lips in disgust.
"I mean it father."
Loki's hand tightened on the staff. He hesitated but a moment before complying to his son's condition. "Very well. Your luck seems to continue Captain, but it will soon come to an end."
A bright ball of light appeared behind Fenrir and Steve had to shut his eyes against the intensity of it. When he opened them again, Loki was standing in front of the light. "Tell the archer I owe him two now." The parting words were uttered with the trickster's usual malice and the blond had no doubt Loki's main target on the team would be Barton.
With Loki gone, the force holding Steve down disappeared, allowing him to sit up in time to see Fenrir turning to enter the portal. "Why?" The questioned echoed every ounce of hurt and betrayal he felt. He could scramble to his feet, stop Fenrir from leaving but he couldn't bring himself to do it.
Fenrir paused for a moment, glancing at Steve one last time. "Because there are bigger monsters out there for you to worry about. And... because he's my father." The statement lacked conviction but Fenrir followed through by stepping into the light. A second later the portal disappeared leaving the forest in blackness and Steve all alone.
Fury sat on the opposite side of the table as Tony Stark. His expressionless face like a stone mask, never once betraying a single thought as listened to the billionaire's recount of the cluster-fuck in the forest.
Normally Tony loved the sound of his own voice but he was thankful that his tale had come to an end. An awkward silence stretched and he had to resort to tapping his fingers on the conference room table to distract himself from Fury's scrutiny.
Fury finally dropped the hand he had resting under his chin onto the official report laying on the table before shifting slightly in his chair. Leaning forward he asked, "And that's the story you're going to go with?"
Tony swallowed, rubbing the back of his head nervously. Let it never be said that one on one confrontation with Fury wasn't intimidating. "I don't know what to tell you, that's what happened," he offered with as much sincerity as he could muster.
"I'm going to choose to believe that four of my best people were blindsided by the random appearance of Loki, whom you managed to capture, yet somehow slipped out in the middle of the night, leaving Earth untouched." Tony shivered at the calm words that managed to hold all the bite and promise of unimaginable influence without specifying exactly what horrors await, should they fall out of the Director's good graces.
"The truth is what the truth is," Tony offered with a shrug, silently praying for some world ending disaster to occur so he could retreat from the room.
"I bet," doubted Fury. Picking up his files he moved silently to the door, letting Stark fret for a few more seconds. Before crossing the threshold to the hall he called out, "Don't let it ever be said I didn't ever do anything for you."
"He's going to murder me in my sleep," Tony mumble, grabbing his box off the table and sauntering into the hall. It was easy to up against Fury when the truth was on his side or he had the leverage of being useful. Outright editing events to a master spy, that undoubtedly could give a more detailed account of what transpired than Tony who was actually there could, oddly terrifying. It could prove to be his new adrenalin fix.
"Fury buy it?" asked Barton hobbling around the corner on his crutches.
"No, but I don't think he's going to press the issue. Next time Rogers can clean up his own mess! How's the knee by the way?" Stark slowed his pace to fall in step with his teammate.
Clint shrugged his shoulder before letting out a sigh. "My medical leaves been extended, but so far it looks like they won't have to operate again. Might get to lose these things in two weeks," he added hopefully, hefting his left crutch in the air.
"Here," said the inventor shoving the long narrow box he was carrying at Clint. The archer looked at it sceptically before Tony pushed it at him again.
"Should I be worried?" he asked, gently pulling at the brown paper taped around the box.
Tony rolled his eyes but didn't dignify the question with a response. It took a lot of self control not to rip the box out of Barton's hands and open it a more acceptable speed. When Hawkeye finally got the box open, his lost look was worth the effort Tony had undergone to put the contents together. Really gestures of any kind weren't really Stark's style, appropriate gestures being way out of his normal response, but he was quiet impressed with his latest feat.
"You're making gold plated arrows now?" posed Clint, freeing the arrow from the box. It glistened and sparkled under the bright lights of Stark Tower. "That'll get expensive."
"No," huffed Tony, "just... read it."
Fastened to the middle of the shaft of the now gold plated arrow was a silver plate with an inscription. "The arrow that pierced a god," read Clint, fighting hard to keep all emotion out of his voice. If his mask slipped revealing gratitude and appreciation while his hands trembled slightly, neither chose to acknowledge it.
"I know you haven't been able to get the satisfaction of mounting that bastard's head on your wall, but I figured this was at least an impressive feat you can take solace in."
"Thanks," whispered Barton, gripping the arrow tight in his hand. It had felt really good to put an arrow in the trickster, even if it wasn't through an eye socket.
Uncomfortable with the whole demonstration of emotion, Stark mumbled some excuse to flee to the safety of his lab. Clint carefully put his new prized possession safely back in the box and made his way into the gym. Physical therapy was never fun but he had a team to get back to. The rapid thud of someone connecting with a punching bag greeted Clint as he entered the gym. Steve didn't even look up as he entered, just continued his relentless attack on the bag posing as the man's problems.
"Keep that up we won't have enough punching bags to get through the day," offered the archer as the bag went flying across the gym after a particularly vicious right hook from the Captain.
Rogers dropped his hands to his knees trying to catch his breath as the sweat poured off of him. "I don't understand," he wheezed.
Clint quirked an eyebrow. "Well, Stark only has so many of those in stock..."
Steve shook his head before wiping his hair out of his eyes. "Not that. I don't understand why he did it." Clint waited for Steve to catch his breath to see if he was going to elaborate. "Fenrir saved my life. Why would he do that if he was just going to side with Loki?"
This was actually something Barton had a wealth of experience in. Flopping down on the bench, Rogers joined him. "When it comes to family," started Clint, trying to fight back the personal demons that threaten to descend upon him, "you always do the stupidly loyal thing. Trust me, Loki may have let them chain Fenrir up, imprison him for however long, but at the end of the day, it's still his father. There are just some people we'll be loyal to no matter how many times they burn us and we'll love them in spite of it. Some loyalties just trump self-preservation even when we know it's wrong to continue down that path."
The archer spoke with an honesty that screamed of betrayal first hand and part of Rogers ached for him. This was just another puddle of muddled grey tainting his formerly black and white world. Somewhere in the last seventy years the world lost some of its idealistic moral shine, leaving an ambiguous pallet of grey fraught with landmines.
"Just got to do the best you can Cap, and hope for the best. I wouldn't take it personally. He did save your life when he could have walked away. At the very least you showed him that someone is capable of compassion. And take it from me, that can make all the difference in the world, just showing that one person cares." Clint pat the blond on the shoulder before giving him the solitude his slumped shoulder indicated he needed. "If it means anything to you, I think you might have a few stupidly loyal people in your corner."
The sentiment did make Steve feel slightly better. Trying to put himself in Fenrir's place, though he didn't agree with the outcome of recent events, he realized there were a handful of people he would do the same for. In the vast sea of questions and unknowns that was the best he could hope for; despite their differences and disagreements they had each other backs. Hopefully that would be enough to see them through whatever dangers were lurking in the darkness.
The end
Thank-you to everyone who read this story. A super big thanks to those that continuously read my stories and show their support.
Endless thanks and much appreciation to anyone reviewed this story and those who have been following me from the beginning
Thank you to Twisted-67 for the prompt. I hope it measured up to what you were hoping for.
The next story will be an AU story that will work its way around to fit into this universe; Forlorn Hope. Loki has claimed the Earth but a pesky group of resistance fighters led by would be heroes are a constant thorn in his side. With the age of man coming to a close can the heroes rise up and stop him or will the human race be crushed under Loki's army?
Following that will be Birds of a Feather Flock Together. Superheroes: a preposterous idea that sounds crazy in theory as well as practice. It would make sense that a group of mentally unstable individuals would create a fantasy world in which they were heroes that saved the world on a regular basis. If one was to pretend to be a superhero why would they go with archer but more importantly, Clint can't shake the feeling that it's all true despite the padded walls and what the doctor handing out the pills is telling him.