Okay, this chapter is probably going to read a little differently, and that's because I've found a plot! It's up to you whether or not that's a good thing. We also get a lot of Bruce POV (and it was a close one: there were 9 votes for Bruce, 8 for Steve, 6 for Thor, and 4 for Clint. Poor Natasha), and hopefully I didn't screw him up too much. Sorry for the wait, and (if you're reading this) thanks for bothering to come back!

Also! Important (for me, anyway): a while back, I read a fic where Tony and Bruce were in the lab, and then an Earthquake(?) hit. The Hulk popped out, and Tony tried to send him away (to safety), but of course he stayed, and later on said 'Hulk not stupid', or something like that. Anybody know what I'm talking about? I've looked all over the place, and can't find it.

There was a moment during which Tony truly believed his living room was about to be remodeled.

Bruce liked to think that he and Tony had hit it off immediately. He liked to think that, and Tony gave him no reason to assume otherwise, but the thought was entirely irrational. Tony was suspicious of everyone he met, instantly despised anyone who he perceived as a threat to either his boundaries or to his friends, and, while he made a point to throw himself into danger whenever he could, fought to keep those close to him from that risk.

And Bruce was definitely a risk. Every second Pepper spent with him (whether in awkward silence or even-more-awkward conversation) was a danger to her. But Tony seemed to shrug the incredibly real possibility of her death off, even though he wouldn't let her in a room with Fury alone if he had the choice. And Fury was the good guy (the incredibly shady good guy, yeah, but the good guy nonetheless). Bruce...the other guy? They weren't. They were the monsters parents warned their children about.

But Tony ignored that, and treated him as if he were no more dangerous than a regular human being. Hell, he treated him as if he were less dangerous than a regular human being. He pestered the scientist until he promised to stay in his fixed tower (the tower that he broke), and then gave him a personal room with a lock that could even keep him out.

He often left when Pepper was over, frequently in a temper tantrum that could make Veruca Salt feel inferior. And he wouldn't glance back, or say, "You might wanna go," or anything. There was trust. The type of unconditional trust Bruce hadn't had since...since...ever.

As a result of the incredible treatment he'd been given, their friendship couldn't waver. Even the self-destructive part of him that demanded he leave this all behind before Tony found out what a monster he was was affected. It was still there, hovering in insecurity and fear, but it was considerably less potent than it ever had been before Tony. So, while it was irrational, Tony seemed to have given him the trust he didn't deserve instantly.

It was insane. Definitely insane. But Bruce was grateful beyond what words could say, and even the Hulk had grown fond of the eccentric and off-the-rocker-nuts engineer.

So, when Tony opened the door (neck slightly pink in that way that Bruce had learned meant he had had more than his fair share of alcohol), Bruce felt a familiar rumble rack its way through his body. Because Tony wasn't alone, and he wasn't with Pepper.

"Tony." He spoke calmly, even as his fists tensed in preparation for battle. "What is Loki doing on your couch?" Tony's brows rose, then settled back down in a surprised sort of furrow. He then glanced over his shoulder, as if he hadn't noticed the god of mischief lounging on his sofa. He finally settled on an answer.

"Drinking." His lips quirked, the distinct facial hair jerking at the action. "Well, I've been doing most of the drinking, actually. I wanna thank you right off the bat for not Jolly-Green-Giant-ing it up, though, because I really appreciate that; I really do. This is a new couch. I actually destroyed my living room last year, and while I have the money, I don't want to go furniture shopping with Pepper again." Bruce inspected his friend's face while he rambled on, feeling slight relief as he caught a glimpse of brown eyes. The world could barely handle a right-in-his-mind Tony Stark. A mind-controlled one would be impossible.

"Tony, stop. Are you okay?" Loki sat forward slightly, an amused smirk tugging at his lips.

"Not totally, Bruce," Tony responded, voice considerably tighter. "I've been having the worst fucking night- excluding the last time Loki visited- and really could have used you here, like, ten minutes ago."

"What are you doing here?" Bruce demanded, turning from Tony now that he was sure he wasn't compromised or injured. Loki raised an eyebrow, unaffected. Bruce was a little put-out. He'd hoped the god would at least be a little intimidated, considering what the Hulk had done to him. "Answer."

"I enjoy your scary-manly voice, you know that," Tony interrupted, stepping back into his line of vision. He always tried to show himself when Bruce was exhibiting signs of agitation. His presence tended to calm the other guy down. "But I don't think Loki is here to be psycho tonight, so-"

"Tony, it's Loki." Bruce emphasized. Tony was normally at least a little rational, but if Loki had gotten him drunk, then who knew what was going to happen? The guy could handle his liquor, but if he were trying to defend Loki- the man who had nearly destroyed Manhattan (and tried to enslave the whole damn world)- then something was definitely wrong with him.

"Yes, Bruce, it is. And, yeah, he did have a nefarious reason for visiting, but we're over that."

"I was unaware the 'reason' was 'nefarious'." Loki snuffed, crossing his arms in minor annoyance.

"Stealing is still nefarious." Tony replied, half-amused and half-frustrated. "And if you don't mind, I'm playing your defense, so quit whining about diction."

"Tony, I want an explanation. And get behind me." Loki scoffed, smoothly standing.

"As if he would be any safer behind you when you are in this pitiful form."

"Okay," Tony began, brows furrowing just a little more. "Let's not annoy Bruce. I just said how much I love this couch." Though Tony showed no fear of Hulk, he often used the possibility of the creature to diffuse situations. In this particular instance, it didn't work.

"If he wishes to instigate violence, I will not deny him." Loki snarled, and suddenly he wasn't acting like some sly house-guest. Defying logic (as he always seemed to do), he was inexplicably clutching a long staff, a vicious, jagged weapon that seemed to radiate something unearthly. Bruce's stomach rumbled as if he were hungry, but the familiar pangs were not due to skipping lunch (although he had; he was hardly better than Tony at remembering biological requirements when he was focused).

"Um." Tony blinked owlishly, looking as if he didn't quite know what to do. Bruce had lived with him for a few months in New York, and had rarely seen that expression. He had no access to a suit, was drunk, and in a room with two time-bombs. Bruce didn't blame him for not being too happy.

"Tony, get behind me." He growled, feeling the ripples of power beneath his skin. Tony was being threatened, and the Other Guy didn't like that.

"Sorry, I'm a leader, not a follower." Tony replied, moving his body so that he was between the two monsters.

"That..." Loki's face was suddenly unreadable, a strange mix of even stranger emotions. "...was a poor choice."

It happened before Bruce could even blink. The god's lanky arms were suddenly around Tony's waist, and the engineer was pulled backwards against his chest. The sharp point of the staff pressed against his temple, digging into the soft skin. Bruce nearly staggered at the rage that swept through him, blinking against his tunneling vision. In a delicate situation, Bruce Banner was more helpful than the Hulk.

"Don't you feel useless?" Loki teased, his light tone belying his no-doubt insidious intentions. Tony blinked, then struggled feebly in the god's hold. "Oh, don't insult me." Loki muttered to him, tightening his grip just slightly. Tony attempted to send a squat glare in his direction, but couldn't turn his neck to allow its intended recipient to see it.

"If you keep this up, I won't be inviting you back."

"I never needed an invitation." Loki growled, pressing the staff with a bit more force. "And might I suggest silence? I believe your ally is attempting to calm himself, and your speaking would surely make the task difficult."

"Brucie can handle me." Tony responded, and there was a touch of pride there. "And you're not going to kill me, anyway, so just let go."

"The variables have changed." Loki told him, eyes flashing at Bruce, who was standing perfectly still, his blood still rushing. Fists clenched, and teeth half-gritted, the doctor growled,

"Let him go."

"Oh, please, as if I would listen to you," Loki hissed, and there was amusement there. "-what reason is there that I should? At the moment, you're nothing but an inferior mortal. And, if you should transform into that ghastly beast, you will only succeed in killing Stark. You're useless- utterly useless, and I will murder him right here, and there is nothing that you can do."

There were times when Loki questioned his own sanity. He tried to ignore the thoughts, however, as they led down dark avenues that he didn't want to explore, or think about, or even recall existed. At the moment, however, as he amused himself by goading a creature that had defeated him on That Day, he seriously wondered whether he were as intelligent as he believed himself to be.

It wasn't as if he were going to kill Stark. That much was obvious in his own brain, and it had seemed obvious to the engineer. Now, though, there was doubt, and Stark was still in his grip, stiff but cautious. But there was something terribly entertaining about lying, and watching creatures frustrate themselves with simple deceit.

"Bruce, just go and get the other Avengers-" Tony instructed, and Loki immediately shifted his position so that the staff was just in front of his exposed throat.

"A pointless exercise. Your corpse would be cooling by the time they arrived."

"They're pretty fast," Tony retorted, tense in his grip. But still defiant, of course, because fear didn't bring him down as it brought down others. "-and killing me won't put them in the greatest mood." Loki's thumb pressed against the engineer's carotid, and he enjoyed knowing that his kindness to Stark (and yes, it was kindness, he was able to admit that, even if he weren't sure why he had chosen to be kind) had not depleted the man of intelligent fear. His pulse raced beneath the digit, and Loki pressed the staff against the skin.

His original plan had failed due to unexpected circumstances, but he had always been flexible. As his eyes sidled up to meet the doctor's, he felt a new scheme arrange itself.

"Your decision, Banner," he hissed. "-Would you really place your trust in your fellow Avengers?"

Bruce trusted the Avengers. He did. He trusted them with his life on a daily basis, hung out with them, enjoyed their company. But this was Tony, and it was getting hard to think rationally. The Hulk was about ready to rip free of his fleshy prison. Because if there were one thing the Hulk liked more than smashing? It was Tony.

And Tony was in definite danger.

puny god hurt metal man

Bruce clenched his eyes shut. He only heard the Hulk's voice when he was close to transforming, or if he were particularly outraged. At the moment, he figured it was a little bit of both.

"Just let him go," he hissed. "If it comes to it, the Other Guy won't be aiming for Tony."

"I highly doubt the creature is capable of discerning allies from foes," Loki denied, but Tony squirmed in his hold.

"Actually, I'm a favorite of his. I'll probably get a hug while he caves your skull in. He's touchy-feely, y'know?" Loki paused, as if actually considering. Tony rushed into his chance, and Bruce figured it was a mixture of his usual recklessness and and his current (although, technically, that was usual, too) inebriation. "But he's a big softie, and he'll forgive you if you just, y'know, don't go on a killing spree."

The Hulk growled his disagreement, but Bruce didn't let the feeling show. He didn't really agree either, but Loki letting Tony go was the best outcome possible.

"I highly doubt the murder of one man constitutes as a 'spree'."

"Well, it depends if that one guy is Tony Stark. I'm counted as a few people, on account of my brilliance."

"Is that so?" Clipped tones. Plan A (was this really the best plan? Jesus) was failing.

"I'm kind of a big deal," Tony agreed solemnly, and Bruce recognized it as a quote from the movie Clint had made them watch when he'd visited. Bruce resisted the urge to roll his eyes in exasperation. It wasn't as if Loki were in any way versed in Earth culture; that was just going to get him riled up.

"Are you?" Loki humored him, but there was less venom in his expression than Bruce was used to. He narrowed his eyes, feeling his pulse race at the momentary distraction

puny god hurt metal man metal man in danger METAL MAN IN DANGER

until he managed to calm it with a thick swallow. He approached slowly, raising his hands.

"According to Tony," he began, because he had to trust Tony. He didn't have a choice. Maybe the Hulk could recognize that he wasn't the threat, that he wasn't an enemy (he had always favored the engineer), but mistakes happened. He couldn't risk it,

hulk not hurt metal man hulk want HELP

no matter how much his body was urging him to lose control. "-you aren't here to cause any trouble. Unfortunately, logic seems to be working against him."

"That's never stopped me before." Tony offered up, but the staff drew half-a-centimeter closer to his throat, and he instinctively quieted. Bruce was silently relieved that there was some semblance of self-preservation in his friend.

"Stark is not in his right mind." Loki announced, revealing nothing in the statement. Bruce nodded, but chose to ignore it.

"If you really didn't come to kill him, I need you to prove it. Put down the staff."

"I see no reason to comply with your demands. I have Stark, and therefore have the greater leverage." As if to prove his point, he actually pressed the sharp edge of the staff

metal man bleeding metal man hurt

against Tony's throat. A thin line of red came to life as he released the pressure.

Tony's brow was slick with cold sweat, and he carefully remained still as the danger went back to Threat Level: Orange. Loki was officially insane again, and, yeah, Bruce didn't look much better. He had questions he could pose, to stall (until what? Bruce got back under control? Yay, they'd be at a stale-mate again), such as 'Why are you so eager to kill me right after you saved my life?' or 'Why are you so set on being a dick?'. But his mouth was dry. It had been a while since the last time he'd been a hostage, and, to be quite frank, it was bringing back some not-so-great memories.

He pushed them away from the forefront, focusing on Bruce and his green-tinged eyes.

"Hey, Bruce, not dead, not dying, still capable of talking, and everything." Loki stiffened as he spoke, obviously annoyed, but Tony figured 'fuck him', because he wasn't the one being held hostage. "Stay with me, big guy." Or, rather, stay away big guy. Bruce nodded shakily.

"I'm okay." A pause, then, more confident: "I'm okay."

"Glad to hear it." Tony thought for a moment, then figured he should do the logical thing (playing the part of Spock for the first time in...well, ever? He was more of a truthiness kinda guy, focusing on gut instincts rather than what sane people would do). "Contact the Avengers. I'm good here." Bruce quirked a skeptical eyebrow, but he couldn't quite pull off the casual pose when his eyes looked so tormented.

"I'm not leaving you here, Tony."

"I'm good," Tony assured him, struggling minutely against the hold (but failing terribly, and maybe he should start lifting weights or something, because, geez). "I can be responsible."

Predictably, fate (in the form of a teenage-delivery-boy) chose that moment to ring the doorbell. Bruce's face lit up (probably figuring there were only so many people that could show up at Tony's house this time of night, and that the majority of them were able to fight), and he backed toward the door.

"You may answer it," Loki told him, his amused smirk betraying his bored tone. Bruce, confused but relieved, ripped the door open. He turned to Tony, and there was disapproval there.

"Tell me you ordered before he got here."

"Um, you guys okay?" The teen questioned, curiosity spurring him to peer inside. Bruce ignored him for the moment, glaring as Tony squirmed (now less out of fear of bodily harm, and more because, yeah, he was an idiot. But Loki hadn't seemed to be that much of a threat- he'd never even had pizza! But he doubted Bruce would see it his way).

"In a different timeline, I probably ordered before he showed up," he offered, hoping the sci-fi fan in Bruce would rise to the bait. Predictably (probably because it was a dumb-ass plan- he had a scepter to his neck, and he was bleeding, and feeling a little emasculated because he couldn't get out of a really simple hold, and, yeah, he might have been a little drunk. So, really, it wasn't his fault that his plan wasn't up to par with his usual intellect, damn it), Bruce wasn't swayed.

"Wait, there are other timelines-?" Bruce slammed the door on the perplexed delivery boy (and Tony sincerely hoped this wouldn't get him blacklisted from that pizzeria, because, really, this was the first time he hadn't paid). But he honestly had other things to worry about, because Bruce was more than disapproving.

He was angry.

"Did you have a plan for when Jekyll came out?" Tony hissed, frowning as the frame of his friend began to stretch. "Because he's pissed at me, and I'm not sure the favoritism carries through when I'm the one he's mad at."

"And why should such a thing concern me?" Loki responded airily, and Tony remembered that the half-sane Loki he wasn't completely terrified of had left the building. Shit. Hell of a time for the cat-brain to re-assert itself.

"Because it's hard to visit a house that's demolished." A strangled roar erupted from the heaving creature in front of them. Tony had always liked the Hulk. Bruce maintained that he was a brainless monster, but Tony had never really gotten that vibe. Maybe that was because his first meeting with the guy had ended with his life being saved, but whatever. At the moment, though, the Hulk seemed less cuddly.

"Metal Man!" He exclaimed, green eyes flashing onto Loki. "Puny God Hurt Metal Man."

"Or maybe the favoritism is stronger than I thought." Tony remarked with no small pleasure. He was (just a little bit) used to people turning on him on a dime. Money bought a lot of things, but he couldn't quite afford loyalty. And when people got mad at him, they usually stayed mad until he pacified them with wacky new toys or shopping sprees. It wasn't as if he'd expected Bruce to murder him for being irresponsible (definitely not, no, that'd probably mean he had trust issues, and that's just impossible), but that he didn't throw a single punch in his direction was nice. He couldn't help the grin.

"Unfortunately, the beast is not so intelligent that you'll be spared when it attempts to pulverize me." Before Tony could indignantly defend his friend, Loki jerked him to the side, effectively cutting off his air-supply for a solid few seconds. Hulk stampeded toward where they'd been (just Loki, technically; Tony was in the way is all), roaring himself silly. Loki tapped his head down, mouth directly beside Tony's ear. "If you'd like to make a deal, I suggest doing so soon. I've been told by a reliable source that mortals tend to die."

"Just let me go and then you can get smashed yourself." Tony grunted, writhing in the grip that refused to lessen. At least a few push-ups a day, or something. This was really just embarrassing.

"I can bring you to safety should you accept." Tony really wasn't even going to consider it. He wasn't. He knew Hulk wasn't after him, knew that Loki would murder him the second he could (or manipulate him somehow, because that must've been what he was doing before they were interrupted), and he knew that death would probably be preferable to whatever messed-up deal Loki was proposing.

But then his TV was ripped from the wall, and it was spiralling down at them like a thin, rectangular $4,000 football.

"Okay-"

He'd closed his eyes to avoid facing his flat-screen death, but it never came. He opened them reluctantly once his mind grasped what had happened.

"Shit."

"You're presumably feeling unwell. Teleportation is generally uncomfortable for mortals." And that was the understatement of the fucking century, because his stomach was churning, and his face was burning, and he felt as if his buzz had been replaced with a disproportionate hangover. He grunted out something of an agreement, before leaning forward to painfully dry-heave. Loki watched, unimpressed, then stalked to the other end of the room.

The room, Tony noted, that wasn't his living room at all, but rather a large (thoroughly underwhelming) warehouse.

"Do you realize how cliched warehouses are for kidnappings?" He rasped, uneasy stomach sinking at the word. It wasn't as if he hadn't been in danger before, but having been physically removed from his home was a fresh level of hell. He wasn't a fan of kidnappings in general, anyway.

"It suits my purposes," Loki replied, turning as he noticed Tony wasn't trying to ditch his lungs anymore. "-and you were not kidnapped. You agreed to my deal."

"I don't remember signing a contract," Tony replied, straightening so that he wouldn't appear that pathetic.

"A verbal agreement," Loki told him firmly. "If you should choose to renege on your portion of the agreement, I may have to disregard the safety I have promised you." Tony chose not to acknowledge the fear that instinctively leapt up.

"So I'm safe for now?" Loki nodded.

"So long as you uphold your share of the compact, I shall see to it that no danger befalls you." He paused, considering. "For the duration of the deal, naturally." Tony paused, mulling over what he should be doing. Natasha and Clint were probably prepared in how to deal with gods kidnapping you under the pretense of a deal, but he'd skipped those classes.

"'Kay. Well. What'd I sign up for, exactly?" Loki's eyes gleamed with amusement, but he didn't let the expression mar his other features. He appeared to be perfectly professional.

"I have already asked for what you will be giving me."

"Now repeat the demand with less vague-ness," Tony instructed. "My brain isn't really cooperating at the moment." Loki swept towards him, and Tony involuntarily flinched when one hand clamped against his arc reactor. He should've switched shirts.

"The power source," he replied.

"Um, safety assured, remember?" Tony reminded him, nervousness hidden by snark.

"A new one." Loki told him, retracting slowly. "If you should fail, I will still have one. I suggest keeping this in mind." Tony paused, forcing down the remnants of nausea even as his stomach turned.

"If you're using it for a machine, I need to see the specs. I can't exactly design a power source if I don't know the required-"

"The same one you have." Loki told him firmly, before Tony could even continue. So much for getting the blueprints to know what kind of monstrosity Loki was creating.

"I need equipment," he finally said. As he listed off the ingredients for an Arc Reactor stew, he wondered if he would be able to sabotage the thing to blow while he wasn't in range. Either way, he wouldn't be handing over a fully-functioning arc reactor, so-called 'deal' or no. The only question was whether he would survive the successful implementation of his plan.

His fingers absentmindedly traced the metal as Loki vanished into thin air, promising to return soon with the required tools. And if he managed to live, what, exactly, was going to keep Loki from just ripping out the original?

He was getting really tired of uninvited guests.

Alright, there you go. Sorry for the (comparably) short chapter. The others were around 7,000 words, and this is just over a measly 4,000. But I wanted to put something out there, as it has been a long wait, and I kinda left it at an annoying cliff-hanger. Real life got in the way (hanging out with people before the semester started), but now that school is around again, I have things to avoid.