Author's notes: All I am going to say is that this chapter is a nod to the distinctive style of the MCU. And with this, we conclude Green & Gold. Whoa. *burrows under a blanket and tries not to have an existential crisis* Just, all my love and gratitude and thanks (wait, gratitude and thanks are sorta the same thing...) to each and every one of you, those who have made this epic journey with me, and those who find this story at whatever times in the future. My heart is full of love and tears and I am exploding.

I am still astonished that this bizarre crossover has become so loved. Like, I'm blinking rapidly in an attempt to clear tears.

I know that some of you must be asking: but is this really all? And the answer is: no! There are more stories to be told, no doubt. Unfortunately, I won't be able to start writing anything until June. D8 So, for multiple purposes and reasons that would take too long to state here, I've started up a Tumblr blog to keep all things Green & Gold centralized. Curious about what's up? Go there. There's art (as in like, art, and then doodles/concept stuff) and rambles and/or cacklings about what's going on. If you have any questions for me (or the characters, Matthew would love to hijack an ask or twenty), just drop 'em on there. Or if you want to have some crazy adventures whilst we await the arrival of Winter & Hawk, that's an option too. ;)

...and now it occurs to me to give the address of the blog. Duh. loki-of-storybrooke dot tumblr dot com

Warnings: None! All fluffies and anguish here. :)

I've got my memories

Always inside of me

But I can't go back, back to how it was

I believe now

I've come too far

No I can't go back, back to how it was

Created for a place I've never known

This is home

-Switchfoot, This Is Home

Jackson skipped past Jefferson, of whom he took no notice, and crowed cheerfully upon bursting into Granny's. Finely-dressed Jefferson, however, took a moment to pause and look through the windows of the diner. Granny's was brimming over with activity, the pair of overwhelmed waitresses joined by abrupt volunteers to help manage the sheer amount of customers. The little diner had been missed. Jefferson could see Loki making his way to the counter, the ecstatically chattering boy beside him practically attached to his waist.

Jefferson smiled. "Well done, Prince Loki," he congratulated the man inside, and continued on his way, stepping quickly to the side as he realized he was blocking a slight-statured motorcyclist. The woman arched a sardonic blonde eyebrow at him as she went past.

Jefferson's path didn't take long to cross with Mr. Gold's. "I thought you would've made a scene down there, what with Thor about to take Loki away," the former thief remarked.

"Patience has its rewards, Master Hatter," Mr. Gold answered mildly. Jefferson noticed the small measures of heaviness to the Dark One's tones. He really had spent too much time in the imp's company, to be able to read him this well. "In this case, I didn't have to bring to Thor's attention the fact that if Loki were taken from Storybrooke, he would have lost all the memories that condemned him in the first place, as well as the only existent hiding place in the universe from his master."

"Or that being placed back in the environment of Æsir magic would kill him," Jefferson added. It wasn't just Rumplestiltskin he knew things about. He gave the imp a quizzical look. "Out of curiosity, who is Prince Loki's master?"

"It is never a good idea to speak his true name," Mr. Gold said cautiously. His eyes glittered with something akin to hatred, as though loathing that someone could be powerful enough that merely uttering their name would bring doom. "But some call him the Mad Titan."

Matthew had yet to detach himself from Loki's waist. "I still can't get over how awesome it is that you're here, okay!" he exclaimed. Loki chuckled and ruffled the boy's hair before looking over at Ruby.

"I'd help with the food, but I would likely detonate the kitchen sooner than I would generate a delicious batch of waffles," he said apologetically. "However, I am happy to help deliver orders to their correct destinations."

Ruby laughed, her smiling lips highlighted red. "No problem, Tom, thanks for the offer," she replied. "Or—"

"Tom," Loki replied quickly. "I'd rather you—yes, Tom."

Ruby nodded. "I'm assuming that you'd like your usual tea, iced?" she queried, jotting the note down. "And waffles seems to be the order of the day, thanks to Matthew." The lad grinned without remorse.

Loki laughed at his antics and promised Matthew that he would return shortly, and gestured for him to take the stool next to the one Loki had chosen. Matthew happily clambered up, politely requesting a cup of hot chocolate to go with his waffles. Tom followed Ruby to lend his aid while he and Matthew awaited their orders.

He had returned to the kitchen for a fifth turn by the time he mustered enough courage to speak. "Ruby." She looked up, brow furrowed slightly in question. "Thank you," Loki said. "For standing up for me earlier. Even though I didn't want it."

"It's what friends are for, Tom," Ruby answered with a smile. "Frankly, I'm still amazed that they're letting you stay."

"As am I," Loki admitted. "Norns know what goes on in Thor's head." Ruby smiled again, the expression in her eyes suggesting that she had some idea about Thor's thinking, and handed him the tray bearing the orders for himself and Matthew. She informed him that he was now on break, and Loki meekly obliged.

When he came back to Matthew, Jackson was currently occupying the Trickster's seat. Loki could see the signs of a long friendship forming between the two. Jackson hopped lightly off the stool as Loki approached, then froze as a short woman wearing the distinctive leather garb of a biker came into the diner.

"Tink!" he shouted, and barreled right into her. She locked his neck in her arm and rubbed her knuckles across his scalp. "Hey, no noogies, no noogies!"

Tink laughed and returned Jackson's hug. "Where've ya been, Peter?" she asked. Jackson kept hugging her as he babbled off an explanation, and what would give anyone the idea that he was crying?

Loki sat down next to Matthew at the counter, rolling the cool flavors of tea around his mouth. He turned his head as someone tapped his shoulder, and almost came eye-to-eye with Lillian. Even sitting, he was still taller. He quickly set down his tea to respond to the warm hug he was suddenly enveloped in.

"You know, Tom, I'm planning to retire soon," Lillian told her former employee after releasing him (but not before a kiss on the cheek. Gosh, it was warm in the diner). "And since the library has gotten its funding back, that will leave the position of librarian open…" She lifted her eyebrows, hoping that Loki would finally catch the hint.

Loki beamed and joyfully accepted the offer. "Alright!" Matthew cheered, slapping a triumphant high five with his friend. "You've got the pad back!" Loki grinned broadly as he curled his fingers back around the cool exterior of his glass.

"There's one thing, though, Mr. Hemming," Matthew said, turning in his seat to face Loki. Only one? Loki nearly quipped. "If the whole reason you got to Storybrooke was because of a deal you made with Rumplestiltskin, what was the deal?"

Loki smiled mysteriously as he sipped his tea. "Ah," he answered, the playful and enigmatic lilt of a Trickster entering his voice, "now that is a story for another time."

"Oh, come on!" Matthew protested.

A mischievous gleam entered Loki's eyes. "Eat those waffles before I do," he threatened, teeth baring in a wicked smile. Matthew exclaimed loudly ("You wouldn't dare!") and hurriedly returned to his waffles. Loki took another drink from his tea and let his gaze slide over his town. He laughed and smacked Matthew's hand away when the precocious boy tried to take his waffles. He ate his breakfast, occasionally battling Matthew's fork with his own as they tried to get at each other's food.

Ruby laughed as she joined them with a waffle of her own, remarking on what dorks they were. Loki cheerfully informed her that he wouldn't have it any other way.

Heimdall's gaze was just as solemn as it had ever been. Thor welcomed the familiarity, and was sure that his friends did as well. Midgard was a wonderful place, but it was ever so strange. Thor was glad to be back home. The younger Asgardians left the ancient gatekeeper's observatory, minds still reeling from all that had occurred. One thing was certain: they hadn't had adventures like this when they were youths.

Odin was waiting for them. He stood regal and terrible upon the Bridge, and Thor shrank a little. There were few people who could make Thor feel small, even less who could make him feel afraid, and Odin was one of them. The Warriors Three and Sif stopped as well, uncertain.

"Where is Loki?" the Allfather asked.

"Father," Thor started, a note of hesitation to his voice. "Allow me to explain…"

"I already know, Thor," Odin replied, and Thor ducked as Hugin and Munin flew over his head. The two ravens settled on either of Odin's shoulders, and Thor understood his father's meaning. His feet remained firmly planted upon the Bifrost, and he was apprehensive, half wondering if this was to be his banishment again.

Yet Odin smiled. "I am proud of your deeds, my son," he assured Thor, though said son did not fail to notice the sadness in his tones. "The time of healing for Loki has at last begun, and in truth, I had not expected its arrival for many years more."

"For Loki, it already has been many years more," Thor answered softly. Odin seemed puzzled by the statement.

The Allfather allowed the Warriors and Sif to pass him. He made no comment on Sif's cropped hair, though surely he knew. The king of Asgard gestured to his son. "Walk with me, Thor," he said. "Tell me of your brothers."

"PAPA'S HOME!"

Gudrun shook her head with a light chuckle as half a dozen pairs of little feet pounded through the house, shaking the walls and floor. "I never would have guessed," she remarked, rolling the dough underneath her palms with practiced ease. Children seemed to catapult from every nook and cranny of the cozy house, crowding around (and some of them climbing up) their father as he came into the house. Volstagg's booming laugh, fun and exuberant, brought a smile to his wife's face.

"Ah, and how is this fairest of ladies?" Volstagg inquired lovingly, wading through their offspring to give Gudrun a kiss. She returned it happily.

"Story, Father!" Bóthildr cried, her wide eyes pleading. "Oh, please, Father, tell us a story!"

"Yes, no more about gardens and birds," Aghi said with a distasteful frown, crossing his arms to complete his appearance of disapproval. Gudrun didn't bother to hide her grin.

"What! You don't like stories about gardens?" Volstagg asked of his son incredulously. The boy shook his head emphatically, and Volstagg chuckled. "Well, I must find a way to remedy that somehow. But you wanted a tale, eh? Some story of my latest adventure?"

"YES!"

"Oh, yes!"

Volstagg laughed, allowing his beloved brood to drag him over to the much-loved armchair that was meant for him. They pushed him down into the seat, roosting up on the arms of the chair, nestling in his lap, or crowding around his feet. Volstagg smiled, fondling faces or ruffling hair. Then his eyes took on a bright gleam; the time of storytelling had begun.

"I speak nothing but the truth: this adventure is different from any other I have had," he told his children. Their eyes grew round. "We left Asgard on a very important quest, to find Thor's lost brother… and we found two!"

"Two?" the children echoed incredulously.

"Yes indeed. You remember your friend, Prince Loki?"

"Oh, yes!" Bóthildr chirruped. "He thinks of the best games, Father!"

"And he hides treats in the cleverest places," Fólki added. He did have a terrible sweet tooth; it was evident that he took after his father. "When do you think we'll see him again?"

Volstagg hesitated briefly, exchanging looks with Gudrun, but he quickly brightened up again. "I'm not sure yet," he answered. "But the second brother we found is Balder, the youngest Odinson of all. He's not often heard of here on Asgard—he partakes in secret quests, of the utmost importance, braving the greatest of perils with his noble stallion, Skjótr, and his faithful wife, Julia. You'd like him.

"But, finding these two brothers wasn't all we did," Volstagg added with a grin. "In order to get there, we had to outwit the terrible curse of Stonebreath, and had to journey to Midgard to break a curse over the minds and souls of an entire town, Loki included!"

He frowned and leaned back with a shrug. "Though, I suppose after your mother's captivating talk of gardens, this doesn't sound interesting at all."

The children frantically clamored for their father to continue, adamant that he wasn't to stop there. Volstagg smiled and readily obliged to their wishes, his eyes frequently meeting Gudrun's across the room.

Mr. Gold turned the golden apple in his fingers, his expression demure. Belle was not currently with him, else he would not have the object out. An apple, shining, would surely evoke her curiosity. It wasn't like Regina's deep red apples, filled with magic poison. This fruit, once consumed, fed immortality.

Not of much use to the Dark One. Not yet, anyway. There was always a purpose to be found eventually. Mr. Gold locked the apple away in his safe, along with the medallion he had used to summon the wraith, and he waited patiently.

The shop bell rang as the door was pulled open, and Mr. Gold went out to the front. As expected, it was Mr. Frog—the false father to Loki's tagalong friend. Evidently the man had gotten Mr. Gold's message.

"What do you want?" Mr. Frog demanded sourly, his face twisted in an expression of brutish hostility.

Mr. Gold stepped around the counter, bony fingers curled around the cool handle of his cane. His smile was menacing, and quite deliberately so. "Glad you could make it, Mr. Frog," he began, his lip curling in slight distaste. He had no respect for a man who would treat his offspring as this one had. "I would like to talk with you about your son. Matthew, I believe his name is?"

Never let it be said that Mr. Gold didn't look after his friends. In his own strange, quiet, and often violent way.

Loki whistled happily as he stepped out of the library, going over to the open trunk of Charlene's car—no, Julia's car—with the intent of bringing in the last box of books. Balder got there first, shooting a teasing laugh at Loki before trotting back into the library, planting a kiss on Julia's cheek as he zipped in. She flushed pleasurably and followed him back into the building.

Loki chuckled lightly and closed the trunk, turning to follow his amusing younger brother. He instead found himself stopping as someone called his name, and smiled in greeting as he spotted Paige a short ways down the street. He went to meet her, asking how things were with herself and her rabbits.

"Jeffy started breaking out of his cage this morning, and now I have to chase him all over the place!" Paige laughed. "I only have a moment before I need to get to school, but do you have somewhere you can post these?" She handed Loki a stack of papers, copies of a hand drawn portrait. Loki thought the character seemed vaguely familiar. "I'm looking for my dad, so if you know places where these can go, that would be great."

"Certainly," Loki promised with a nod. "I hope you find him, Paige."

"Thanks, and I'm sure I will," Paige stated with confidence. She smiled brightly. "Papa's here, I know it, and he would never stay away." The girl turned and ran to catch her bus. "Have a nice day, Mr. Hemming!"

"And you as well!" Loki called after her. He smiled to himself and walked back towards the library, stopping when he noticed the black briefcase that had been set in front of the library's door. His eyebrows lifted as he picked it up. The briefcase was made of genuine leather. A small card fell loose and Loki picked it up.

Congratulations on the relocation, Prince Loki. Here's something to get you started. I'm sure you'll know what to do with it.

—H

Loki regarded the message with a puzzled expression. He didn't know anyone whose name started with an H. Not anyone who called him Prince Loki, anyway. He carefully tucked the card into his jacket pocket and opened the briefcase. His eyes widened in shock, and he quickly calculated. His eyes widened further.

"Lillian!"

Loki broke not one but two ultimate rules of the library, shouting Lillian's name as he pelted through the library's halls. Lillian turned and gave him a wry look and he skidded to a halt, flashing her a sheepish smile before placing the briefcase on one of the tables. "Look at this!"

"I'm assuming it's quite the 'this,' since your expression suggests that Christmas has come early," Lillian remarked with amusement. She started to open the briefcase, then quickly closed it again, giving Loki a stunned look. "How much is this?"

"At least five hundred thousand dollars," Loki answered quickly. "I don't know who it's from, but it's for us."

"We can fix the wiring," Lillian realized, an enthusiastic tone entering her voice. "Install better monitors, buy more books…"

"We can remodel this whole place!" Loki exclaimed excitedly.

"And with that will come proper living quarters," Lillian decided, poking Loki in the chest. "No more squeezing into a closet for you, young man."

Loki kissed her forehead, bubbling happily. Balder and Julia came to announce that the last of the books had been sorted, and wondered what on earth they had missed as they were dragged into an impromptu group hug.

A wide grin pulled at his lips, bearing the marks of hard-won triumph. Never before had he made it this far into Galaga. The game was both challenging and addictive, and gosh did he love it. The constantly running scan he was supposed to be monitoring beeped an alarm, and the SHIELD agent set aside his game and quickly changed his focus. His eyebrows climbed.

"Couls—Sitwell?"

The other agent came over. If he was bothered by the slip in names, he didn't say so. "What is it?" he asked.

"Bifrost activation, sir," the younger agent replied. "Some miles in from the coast of Maine." He looked up at Agent Sitwell inquiringly. "Should we inform Director Fury?"

Agent Sitwell shook his head. "Not yet," he said. "We need to gather more intel first."

Agent Sitwell walked away, his duties calling him elsewhere, and the other agent went to work. He released a quiet sigh of disappointment. It looked like Galaga would have to wait.

Fin? Oh, as if.