Okay! So, I'm still working on Hemorrhage but this little plot bunny just won't stop hopping around in my head. So, just a few points before getting to the story.

-I am not a comics/marvel movies expert. I probably have the wrong colors on things or the wrong people present for the time period, but I'm kinda just doing things the way I want them.

-I have NO idea what is going to happen in Infinity War, but I have a feeling we are going to lose some beloved characters. Well, not in my fic! (

-I really want to pair Loki up with someone and have three people in mind: Natasha, Wanda, or Darcy. I'm not sure how deep I'm willing to go into a relationship yet, but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. Would love suggestions!

-Chapters will be longer. This is just the opening to get started.

I think that's all for now. Okay, on with show! I hope you like it! If you do, comment to feed my muse! :)

Chapter 1

Things had drastically changed since the war waged by Thanos. In the end, the mad titan had been cast into the void with half his Chitauri army. The other half were defeated easily enough. Now, they live under the knowledge that Thanos could return, just as Loki had before. Tony Stark's equipment ever monitoring for changes or signs, they watched and waited while continuing to do what they did best.

Stark Tower was alive with activity in the wee hours of the morning, but only as the members of the Avengers dragged their bruised and battered bodies into the main living area on the 91st floor. Natasha fell onto the couch, sprawling out her legs across Clint's lap. Tony came through the bridge two floors up so FRIDAY could initialize removal of his suit. Steve sat against the wall with his shield in his lap. Banner was somewhere outside, most likely still de-hulking. Thor was lying across the carpet, arm draped over his face. Loki leaned against the window, eyes closed.

Loki had been with the Avengers for nearly three months. Willingly was not the word he would choose for the situation, though. During the battle with Thanos, Loki had not proven himself an ally. He had proven himself useful. He was detained by SHIELD soon after, his magic restrained. He was interrogated and then, once they'd finished, they had dumped him into Tony and Steve's laps. He now wore a device, like a bracelet, that kept his magic at a "by approval only" basis. Anything more than stirring his tea or flipping the pages of a book earned him enough voltage to kill a human. Therefore, unless accompanied by an Avenger or a soldier of SHIELD, he could not leave the tower. He'd be helpless against an enemy without someone to call in the use of his magic. At least he was allowed to keep his physical daggers...but only when in battle.

Thor had not been a fan of the idea, but implored Loki to cooperate. "You'll earn their trust soon enough and, with it, your freedom," he'd said. The trickster had listened, much to his internal dismay. In another prison, even after doing the right thing. Green eyes opened, tired and dim, and stared out over the city lights. He was weary and grew more so everyday. The limitations on his magic, he supposed.

"Who wants Chinese?" Tony finally emerged from the elevator, dirty and sporting a nice black eye, but otherwise, as lighthearted as ever.

A collective moan sounded in the room and Steve's shield flew by Tony's head to disappear into the closing elevator doors.

"That's a no, then?"

Tony stretched and unfolded himself from the armchair in his room, having fallen asleep in the middle of researching pocket dimensions and portals. His back would remind him not to do that again anytime soon. The billionaire shuffled to his bathroom to relieve his protesting bladder, wash his hands, and brush his teeth. He had showered before settling into research so just a clean shirt and he was on the elevator. Tony had the entire 33rd floor to himself (and Pepper, when she was home) but always chose to ride up to the shared living area on the 91st floor to socialize with the rest of the team, all of whom were probably still sound asleep, he assumed.

Each member actually occupied their own floor, aside from Loki and Thor who shared one because of Loki's probation. Sharing a common area ensured they all remained on the same page and stayed up to date. Of course, there were days when one of them would just want to be alone; they had the option. Loki was the one who usually opted out of the gatherings, feeling much like the 'black sheep' of team. Those days, FRIDAY would be entrusted to track his whereabouts and activities. Trust was still lacking in both directions and he struggled to grow accustomed to a life without free use of his magic. Tony could only hope the trickster would eventually come around, but no one on the team was willing to take that wager.

Tony scratched his hip and yawned as he exited the elevator, glancing into the empty living room as he passed. Good. They had all gone to their rooms for some decent rest. As he approached the kitchen, he found the light already on and slowly peeked inside. Loki was standing at the counter and reading the back of a box of artificial sweetener. It still amazed Tony that the wild eyed maniac deity that had tried to conquer the planet those few years ago could look so young and human. Loki sported a pair of black sweatpants and a light green long-sleeved shirt. His feet were bare, as they usually were when he was indoors. His longer hair was pulled back into a ponytail, hanging in waves to just between his shoulder blades.

"Stark." Emerald eyes never raised from their reading, but Tony was accustomed to the greeting now.

"Morning, Rock of Ages." That earned him a sidelong glare as he passed the young god. Loki hated the nicknames Tony could come up with for him...which only made the billionaire attempt to be more creative. "What're you doing up here?" Tony opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of eggs. "Aren't you afraid you may accidentally enjoy the company?" Loki didn't reply. He simply reached in the box to take a few packets of sweetener and then walked out and toward the elevator. "Always a pleasure talking to you, Lokes!" Tony gave a mock salute with his pointer finger and then returned to making breakfast.

Loki rolled his eyes and tapped the little pink packets against his palm while he boarded the elevator. "What floor, Mr. Laufeyson?" He always opted to press the buttons instead of speaking to Stark's invisible computer. Why she insisted on called him 'Mr. Laufeyson' was beyond him. Yet, he never bothered to correct her. He wasn't sure why that was either. He leaned back against the wall, resting the back of his head on the cool surface. If he closed his eyes, it was almost felt like he could float away (and out of this nightmare). The bell sounded that he had arrived on level 84 and back to reality.

Thor was emerging from the hallway, his mouth wide in an ridiculous yawn. "Brother." Thor nodded, absently rubbing his arm as Loki returned the nod in passing but remained silent. The tension between them was nearly unbearable. Some days, Thor found it hard to breathe in his brother's presence. He wanted to rejoice in the fact that Loki had finally began down a path to redemption, but seeing him suffer, like a caged animal, day after day was agonizing. Thor had pushed him into this, but even with the good Loki was doing, the thunderer couldn't help but wonder if it was the right decision. With the remaining Aesir people being homed at SHIELD until a suitable relocation could be found, Thor felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. He became king only have his people displaced and go straight into war. He needed Loki to stand with him, now more than ever. Yet… he couldn't find it within himself to blame his brother when he didn't.

Running his hand through his short, spiked hair, he followed his brother into the kitchen and chose to stand quietly in the doorway while Loki added the sweetener to his cup of tea, the spoon glowing a dull green while it stirred handlessly.

"What is it you want, Thor?" Loki was taking his seat at their large table (room for 8), opening a large, old book of some sort in front of him, never looking up.

Thor sighed. If they weren't nearly ignoring each other, they were on the floor above, in the arena, solving the day's problem with fists. Loki had been so angry only three weeks prior that he had used magic without approval, nearly squeezing the life out of Thor before the bracelet had shocked him. Thor was afraid Loki would end up in the med bay but he was finally able to rouse him. Loki had slept for two days afterward. "Come upstairs, Loki." Thor crossed his arms, smiling gently.

Loki merely sipped his tea and kept his eyes on the pages in front of him. "I've been upstairs, thank you."

"I mean now. Come up with me." Rolling his remaining eye, Thor pulled out the chair across from his brother and sat. "Have a meal with the others."

"I'd rather not." The trickster turned the page.

"Loki."

"Thor."

The Aesir king stood, not bothering to push in the chair. "You can't keep living this way, Loki. You barely eat or sleep or...or... talk . You have a team at your side now."

"I'm a useful tool, brother." He turned another page. "Nothing more."

Thor growled and slammed his right hand down on the pages, finally earning a green glare from underneath Loki's lashes. "Stop your theatrics! You are not a tool. Not to me." They stared at each other, blue battling green, until Loki brushed his brother's hand away from his book and simply began to read again.

"Are you finished?" He asked, tilting the mug to his lips without looking up.

Thor knew when to walk away but made it a point to drive his fist into the side of the stainless steel refrigerator on his way out. Loki watched him quietly until he got into the elevator and the doors closed. With a sigh, he closed the book and slouched in the chair, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Hey!" Tony leaned and balanced on the back legs of his chair, throwing his arms open as Thor entered the kitchen. "Good morning, Goldi-" Thor narrowed his blue eye. "That one doesn't really work anymore, does it?" The billionaire put a hand to his chin in contemplation.

"Hey, Thor." Steve waved lazily from the table, his longer hair a fresh-out-of-bed mess. He scratched at the beard everyone was still getting used to while stifling a yawn. "Your brother not joining us?" The captain always asked. If anyone would be quick to befriend Loki, it would be Steve Rogers. Thor opened his mouth to answer as the skidding sound of Natasha's slippers disrupted the silence. She was still in pajama pants and a t-shirt, her black house slippers scooting with her dragging steps. She fell into the chair next to Steve and propped her elbow on the table, balancing her chin in her palm. He blonde hair was a disaster.

"Does he ever?" They both looked to Thor, who confirmed with a sad smile while sitting down with a box of pop tarts.

"Legend of the Fall doesn't really work either now…"

They all looked over to Tony, exasperated, but only for a heartbeat before Clint entered.

"Morning, all." Three hands went up in silent greetings. "Man, why does everyone look so serious?" The archer asked while reaching up for the Frosted Flakes on top of the fridge.

"Loki." All three answered in unison.

"Oh, that's nothing new." Barton replaced the lid on milk and put the jug back into the fridge, grabbing his bowl to take a bite before sitting down across from Natasha. "The guy's wound up tighter than a ten day clock."

Thor looked over questioningly while chewing. "Is that...bad?"

Natasha sighed and shook her head at her partner before laying a hand on Thor's arm. "It just means that's stressed." She wanted to be sympathetic. She really did, but it was no secret that Loki couldn't be trusted. She had seen him with his daggers, but his tongue remained his sharpest weapon. And they had all been cut at one time or another. "It will take...time." She smiled gently, a genuine caring smile that the assassin hardly showed.

"And if there is anything my brother has plenty of, it's time." He returned her smile and took another bite. The kitchen grew quiet before…

"Footloose!" Tony clapped his hands with a loud 'ha HA!' "I dub thee Footloose!"

The warehouse had been abandoned for years, only the occasional graffiti artist daring to step foot on the deserted property. Water puddled outside from the night's thunderstorm and the smell of illegally dumped garbage lingered in the air. Hauntingly quiet, yet a dull light burned from one of the broken windows.

"How much longer?" She growled, her blue hair fanning over her shoulder as she spun to continue her pacing. "I grow tired of this waiting."

"Patience." A gloved finger traced the edge of his blade from his perch in the corner of the room. "The process is delicate and must be precise. You infernal mewling does nothing to aid our comrade." He sneered at her when she turned whited out orbs on him, wide mouth drawing open to reveal yellowish jagged teeth. With a huff, she lowered to the floor, cross-legged.

"The time for action draws near, my friends." The creature at the table tapped a clawed, slender finger against the weapon lying in front of him. The table was littered with beakers, flasks, droppers, and vials, some empty while others held various colors of liquids. He raised a hand up into his line of vision, a vial of violet slime reflecting in his glowing orbs. His pointed ears perked as his lips drew back into a sadistic smile. "We are ready."