Day 1: Distrust

Giant lizards swarmed the streets, and Cap and Widow were fighting them. Hawkeye was on a balcony near the top of Avengers Tower, keeping track of things and shooting lizards. Meanwhile, on the landing pad of the tower, Iron Man and Loki were facing off. Except Tony had his faceplate up, and neither of them seemed to be actually trying to kill the other. Amora, also on the landing pad, stalked up to Loki.

"What in the Nine are you doing? We're supposed to be going after the tech! It was your plan!"

"You go and do that. I am distracting Iron Man. Believe me, this is much the better arrangement." Loki glared at her.

"But you never actually told me what you are looking for! Come on, this is no time for flyting!" Amora glared right back.

"Hey, lady, I'm very protective of my stuff. So far this is just a fun little battle. I don't think you'd like it if I got serious."

At that, Steve's voice sounded in Tony's ear, distracted and annoyed. "Well then maybe you should get serious now! We're taking hits down here!"

"Cap, Cap, Cap. If Loki were seriously trying to take us down, there'd be more fire and screaming. This is just a little tantrum."

Loki smirked. "There's so much truth to that. This is all just a game to me. But it's getting a bit boring. I might add in some fire and screaming. The suggestion was quite appealing."

Tony opened his mouth, speechless for a bare moment. "Uh, wait, I changed my mind. You know what I really expect from a murderous Loki? Turning my cars into ice cream. Doesn't that sound fun, quirky and chaotic?"

Loki tapped his chin as he thought. "Well... how about both. Fire, screaming, cars melting into sugary puddles..."

Amora shrieked at him. "LOKI! It is time to get to work! You will not embarrass me in this fashion!"

Tony and Loki turned to her and said, in eerie unison, "Shut up, we're busy!"

Amora screeched even louder. "You are both CHILDREN! This is FUTILE!" She gathered a green ball of magic and sent it shooting at them both. Then she vanished in a huff.

The magic knocked both Tony and Loki to the ground, unconscious.

"We're just about through with these lizard things," Cap said over the comms. "Hawkeye, what's the situation up there?"

"I don't see Loki's high-strung partner in crime anywhere. Think she ran, and Loki's down for the moment... so I'm gonna go help Stark."

"What? What happened to him?"

"You know what, I'm just gonna go with 'freaky magic shit' until someone with a bigger brain can get eyes on him."

"I'm coming up to the landing level," Banner said. "Glad I decided not to exercise my alter ego today."

"All right, good," Rogers answered. "What's Loki's status, is he still out of the game? Unconscious?"

"Not exactly," Hawkeye said, feet touching down on the landing pad and approaching the two figures cautiously, but without trying to be sneaky. "But he got hit with the same spell as Tony."

Meanwhile, the two tiny figures had managed to work their way out of their respective mountains of armor. Loki huddled near his, scanning his surroundings composedly, and securing what he'd decided to retain of his clothing, a bright green undertunic that was now a robe, and a belt which he slipped over his shoulder to wear as a bandolier.

Tony was less involved in studying his wider surroundings, but was instead studying the armor, and chattering away with Jarvis.

"Thanks for helping me get out of there. I dunno what happened."

"I am here to see to your safety, Sir," Jarvis answered from the disassembled helmet.

"Are you actually here or are you on the phone, because Mom says I'm not supposed to answer the phone anymore, but I like it when people call because they talk to me."

"I am indeed present, here as much as anywhere. I am a computer, Sir."

Tony nearly dropped the helmet.

"Did my dad build you?" he whispered finally.

"No, Sir," the AI said carefully. "I was not built by Howard Stark, nor do I answer to him."

Tony looked skeptical and resigned, and gently lowered the helmet to the ground, studying his surroundings with more care this time. He stood and pushed the sleeves of the under-armor up past his elbows, where they didn't stay, but fell back down almost to his wrists. The shirt didn't quite come to his knees, but he figured there was nothing he could do about that. Curious eyes noted Clint approaching, but then locked on Loki, who was staring at him as well.

Loki frowned at Tony. "What realm is this?" he asked, regal and demanding.

"Dunno," Tony answered. "Just got here too."

So Loki looked up at Hawkeye. "What of you? Where am I? Where have I been brought, and who dares abduct a prince of Asgard?"

Clint suppressed a shudder at looking into those green eyes and retrieving knowledge to fill Loki's demands. He ended up nearly matching Loki's tone for coldness. "You're on Earth," he said curtly. "New York," for Tony's benefit. "We didn't bring you here, but you're under a spell, and I'm guessing it's keeping you from remembering how you got here."

He didn't know how a normal person would treat kids, but Clint knew he'd hated being lied to, especially when it was to spare his feelings. He'd had to be tough, and from the looks of these two, they wouldn't appreciate being coddled either.

Not that he'd be inclined to baby them; however young they might look, they were still annoying-as-hell Stark and the man who'd played with the contents of his skull and killed people, some of them friends.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd come inside," he said, beckoning, then turning and walking to the door. "Cap'd kill me if one of you fell off the side of the building, accident or not."

Loki followed without protest but with the air of someone who is waiting for an explanation, or perhaps an opportunity. Tony went back to the armor, contemplating the helmet. "You may bring the helmet if you wish," Jarvis said from inside it, "But even if you do not, you will be able to speak to me at any time."

Tony decided, hoisted the helmet (which now required both of his small arms to hold), and followed Clint and Loki inside.

There, Banner stood blinking at them, taking in their short statures. Then he put on a small smile, and crouched down to their level. "Tony?" he asked hesitantly. "Loki? How are you doing?"

Tony shrugged eloquently, still clutching the helmet. Loki frowned.

"I'm Bruce. I'm a doctor. I'd like to check you over and make sure you're okay."

Tony shuffled towards him, and Bruce waited, not wanting to move until the boy - six? Seven? - was in easy reach. "Doctor Banner can be trusted to keep you safe," Jarvis said, from both inside the helmet and a speaker near the ceiling. "He is a friend."

Tony eventually did make his way right up next to Bruce, and Bruce put a hand on his head, gently ruffling his hair. He ran his hands over the boy's limbs briefly, checking for obvious injuries, then took Tony's arms one at a time and rolled up the sleeves of the under armor shirt he wore.

"I guess you could use some different clothes," Bruce said conversationally. "I'll try to do something about that. Meanwhile, what's the last thing you remember before showing up out there in the armor?"

Tony screwed up his face, thinking. "I dunno. There was a party and I ate some tiny hotdogs." His eyes widened slightly, and Bruce could tell he was about to lie. "But I went to bed when the nanny said."

"All right," Bruce said, nodding. "Do you know what year it is?"

"Nineteen seventy five," he said in the most scathing tone his tiny voice could manage.

Jarvis spoke up then. "That would put his age at most likely seven," the AI said.

Tony frowned. "It is, isn't it? Did I get it wrong?"

Bruce ruffled Tony's hair again. "No, Tony, it's fine. That was a perfectly good answer."

Loki approached the two of them then, thrusting out a tiny fist in the direction of Bruce. The doctor didn't understand for a moment, and then he did, and he began rolling up the long sleeves of Loki's tunic as well.

"Hello, Loki," he said. "Are you feeling all right?" Loki didn't answer, and in the silence, Tony could be heard muttering to himself, or to Jarvis, it was hard to tell. He'd picked up the helmet again, and was turning it over, examining it. Bruce turned his attention back to Loki, who was now holding out his other arm.

"You mind if I give you a quick check, make sure you're okay?"

Loki considered him gravely, then gave him a regal nod. Bruce gave him the same cursory check, head, back and limbs, looking at his eyes to make sure they were tracking and focusing. He was smaller than Tony, close in height but significantly thinner, but there was very little information as context for that.

"All right," he said. "You seem fine. Do you need anything? Food, water?"

Loki looked at Bruce, warily and calculatingly, before venturing, "Fruit."

Bruce smiled at getting any sort of reaction, and stood up, walking to the kitchenette. "All right, I'll see what I can find," he said, opening the little fridge, and quite happy to see that it contained an orange as well as its usual variety of beverages. He brought the fruit to Loki, handing it over.

Loki frowned at it. "What is this, and how am I to eat it?"

"Oh, sorry," Bruce said, holding out his hand for the fruit's return. "I'll peel it for you. It's an orange."

Loki handed it back and Bruce began to peel it. "What kinds of fruit do you have on Asgard?"

Loki looked at the orange with a mock disdain that hid curiosity. "Proper ones. Apples. Pears. Grapes. Berries."

Bruce smiled. "I like all those," he said, "but I like oranges too. Can I have a piece?" Bruce was breaking the orange into sections now. Loki gave another of his small dignified nods of permission, so Bruce put a section into his mouth and chewed. He smiled again, and then held out the rest for Loki. He began eating, first dubious, then pleased.

Steve and Nat came out of the elevator then, and four pairs of eyes came to rest on Steve as he strode into the room. Tony was paralyzed in his spot by the sofa. Loki, on the other hand, strode right up to him, matching his posture.

"Are you in charge here?" he demanded.

"Yes, I am," Steve replied. "I'm Captain Rogers."

"I demand to be returned to Asgard," he said. "You are holding me here against the wishes of Odin Allfather, and you will feel his wrath if I am not returned."

Steve frowned worriedly. "I'm sorry," he said. "It wasn't our choice to have you here, and we don't have the power to return you to Asgard. We're going to try to get everything back to the way it's supposed to be, though. All right?" Steve gave him a somewhat strained smile.

Loki narrowed his eyes, suspicious. Then Tony spoke. "You're not Captain Rogers," he said, defiant and somewhat angry. "Captain Rogers is dead."

Steve pressed his lips together for a moment, trying to decide what to say. "A lot of people thought I was, but it turns out I wasn't." He shrugged.

Loki approached Tony then, cautiously but deliberately. "I do not trust that man," he said quietly to the other boy. "And you say that he is not who he says he is. I think that I had best follow your lead. You seem to know more of this world."

Tony followed the moves of the appraising dance that Loki was leading. "It's weird," he said. "But yeah, I'm figuring it out."

They locked eyes for a moment, and then Tony grabbed Loki's hand, and they scrabbled for the elevator, Tony hitting the door close just in time to stop Rogers and a strangely hesitant Black Widow.

"Jarvis, can you stop them? Open the doors?" Natasha asked.

"No, don't," Bruce said quickly. "Let them go. Just keep track of them, make sure they're okay and that they don't leave the building."

Steve looked at him, confused. "Are you sure that's the best thing to do?"

Bruce sighed. "I'm not sure what the best thing would be to help them," he said. "But what I do know is that chasing isn't going to do any good in making them trust us."

Steve's jaw tightened at that, knowing the stories and knowing that Bruce would know what he was talking about. "All right," he agreed. "I'm going to go report to SHIELD, see if they have any suggestions about how to get Tony back to normal. You... do whatever you think is best for him. Don't let Loki hurt him."

Bruce nodded. Steve left, taking the stairs down to the lobby.

Meanwhile, in the elevator, the two boys were arguing with Jarvis.

"I do not believe it would be advisable for you to attempt to leave the building," the AI was saying. "Neither of you are equipped to deal with the world you would find yourself in."

"I'd figure it out," Tony said with a certain amount of false bravado.

"Also, the ground floor is full of security personnel," the AI continued.

"Oh," Tony said, his voice going small.

Loki's expression turned stubborn. "If they will not let me leave this place, I will fight my way through them. They are only mortal, after all."

"I really would not recommend it," Jarvis replied. "The weapons of this world are far more advanced, I suspect, than the Midgard you know of, and they have some experience with fighting the Aesir."

Loki lifted his chin and looked defiantly at the speaker. "Why should I believe you, bodiless voice?" he asked.

"You have no reason," answered Jarvis, "but you have chosen to trust Tony, and I believe that I may be able to prove to him, if not my intentions, at least my superior knowledge."

Tony looked contemplative. "You really weren't built by my father, were you?"

"No, Sir," Jarvis replied.

"Who built you?" Tony asked in a near-whisper.

"You did, Sir," Jarvis answered.

"Are you Jarvis?" Tony asked, still quiet.

"Yes, Sir," said the AI.

Tony looked at the speaker with wide eyes.

"Who is this Jarvis?" Loki asked impatiently.

"My imaginary friend," Tony answered. "He knows everything and he's very smart but he isn't too busy, he always talks to me. Dad's always busy and sometimes he yells and Mom pretends to listen but she really doesn't. Jarvis is my favorite person in the world."

Loki narrowed his eyes. "But if Captain Rogers was not Captain Rogers, how do you know Jarvis is Jarvis?"

Tony's face scrunched up as he thought.

Jarvis cut in. "You like to write rude words under the solder on your circuit boards," he said.

"Jarvis!" Tony said, grinning with satisfaction.

"I can take you to an empty floor," the AI continued. "The others will come for you eventually, but they do mean well. I will warn you if they approach."

"Jarvis, is it the future?" Tony asked.

"Yes, Sir," Jarvis answered. "It is October of 2012."

They got off the elevator and onto a floor of empty offices, and stared about warily for a while.

"Is Captain America really alive? Did they clone him or something?"

"He is. The search for his crash site continued until he was found earlier this year. He was frozen, but the serum had kept him alive."

Tony frowned, narrowing his eyes. "I still don't like him."

"That is certainly your right," Jarvis replied.

They entered an office, with a desk and several seats and windows floor to ceiling that looked out over the city. It was far too open, and both boys were feeling the need to hide. Tony scooted under the couch that stood against one wall, and Loki curled up under the desk.

"Don't hide there," Tony hissed at him scornfully. "They always find you there. That's where they put their legs."

So Loki scrambled out from under the desk and slipped behind the other end of the sofa. Tony maneuvered around to peer up at him.

"Are you an alien?" he asked the green-eyed boy.

"Yes," Loki answered. "On Asgard I am a prince. My father is king of the whole world. I'm always very well guarded because I'm important and... I'm not actually very good at fighting, compared to the other Aesir." Loki had started to look miserable.

"But you're a kid," Tony said, eyes widening. "My dad's important too and he builds guns an' things but I'm not allowed to use them even though I know all the rules an' how they work an' I could probably build better ones. But Dad says I'm too young."

"Are these 'guns' weapons? Is your father a weapon smith on this world?"

"Yeah," Tony answered. "You don't know what guns are?" he said scornfully. "You really must be an alien."

"What are they, then?" Loki asked.

"They fire bits of metal very fast," Tony explained.

Loki nodded. "I can use a bow," the prince volunteered, "but I'm best with throwing knives." He pouted. "My brother always beats me at close range combat."

"Sirs," Jarvis interrupted quietly. "Agent Clint Barton is approaching."

The two boys went immediately silent, listening for footsteps. They didn't hear anything of the sort, but there was some scuffling up near the ceiling. Then there was a clattering noise as one of the vent covers was pulled away. After that, there was silence again.

Three minutes later, Tony got impatient and poked his head out from under the sofa, and saw Clint's face looking down at him from the vent.

"Um," he said, "I guess you found us."

"Yeah, but I'm not here to get you and bring you back," Clint answered.

"What are you doing, then?" Tony asked.

"Hiding," said Clint casually.

"Why?"

"Because I feel like it. Makes me feel safe."

Tony smiled knowingly and skeptically at him, but it wasn't unfriendly. "You're using psychology on me," he said.

"Maybe," Clint replied. "But it doesn't mean it's not true."

Loki poked his head out from under the couch, then. "My teachers say hiding isn't becoming to a warrior," he said disdainfully.

Tony snorted.

"Now that's just silly," Clint said. "Half my job is to stay hidden. I'm one of Earth's mightiest heroes. I stay quiet and watch and listen, and when the enemy least expects it, I strike."

Tony nodded knowingly. "You're a sniper?" he asked. Clint nodded. "Do you have a super cool futuristic rifle that always hits its mark?" he asked.

Clint grinned. "Actually I mostly use a bow," he said. "And hitting my mark every time? That's all me."

Loki wriggled his way out farther into the room. "I like bows," he told Clint.

Tony was still blinking up at the archer in shock. "Seriously? But it's the future. Talking computers and flying cars and you're using a BOW?! That's primitive stuff!"

Loki smacked Tony on the arm.

"OW!" the human boy yelled.

"Hey," said Clint. "No violence, or I will have to come down and stop you."

Loki looked shocked, then confused, then curled in on himself, retreating farther under the sofa and out of Clint's sight.

"You all right, Tony?" Clint asked the remaining boy.

"Yeah, it's fine," Tony said, rubbing at his shoulder. "Loki? It's okay. It doesn't hurt much."

Loki just continued to stare at Tony in confusion.

"Loki?" Tony wormed his way back under the sofa. "What's wrong?"

"I do not understand this place," the prince said.

"Yeah, well, it's all a little bit Star Trek, isn't it, but I guess it's gotta be weirder for the actual really truly alien. What's freaking you out?"

Loki frowned, obviously having trouble articulating what was bothering him. "On Asgard, that would have been taken as issue of a challenge," he said finally. "No one would have dared stop us. Not two boys of noble blood defending their honor."

Tony looked at Loki with a 'Really?' expression. "Well I really don't wanna fight you," the human boy said, "so I'm actually fine with Cupid up there coming down and pulling you off me if you do start something."

"Ha ha, right, you can call me Clint," interrupted the voice from above.

"Whatever you say, Cupid," Tony taunted, directing his voice up and out.

Loki blinked at Tony again. "You just insult people and they let you get away with it?"

"'Course they do. I'm a Stark."

"No fighting?"

"Nope."

Loki sank in on himself even farther, and to Tony's horror, tears began in his eyes.

"What's the matter now?" the human boy asked, hiding his concern with aggravation. Loki just shook his head and began to snuffle. Tony stared for another moment, then poked his head out from under the sofa again.

"Clint?" he asked.

"Yeah, Tony?" the archer replied readily.

"Um. I think we broke Loki."

Clint considered for a moment. "Would it be all right if I came down there?" the archer asked.

Tony examined his face closely. "Yeah, you're all right, I guess."

Clint nodded in reply and dropped gracefully out of the ceiling. He didn't get up from the crouch he landed in, but instead leaned over until he could see Loki. "Hey, kiddo," he said.

Loki blinked wetly back at him, curling even further inward.

"Hey, you can stay there as long as you want. I'm not here to haul you out." He turned to Tony. "So, Starkling, wanna see my bow?" he asked.

Tony's eyes showed a reluctant interest, so Clint got the collapsible recurve out of the case on his back and fixed the arms into place.

"It says Stark on it," Tony noted. "My dad make it?"

"Naw, you did," Clint said.

"Right, it's... twenty twelve, Jarvis said? I guess I'm all old and annoying."

Clint smiled and ruffled Tony's hair. "Kinda. Not too bad. I think I like little you better, though."

Tony smirked. "'Course you do. I'm the best." He ran his hand over the bow. "That's a sight, like on a gun, right? What do the buttons do?"

"They control the quiver, which attaches whatever arrowhead I need to the next arrow."

"You got ones that explode?"

"Of course I do. This is Stark tech, after all."

Tony snickered. "I guess old me is probably pretty awesome too. And your bow's not so bad."

Loki was now poking his head out from under the sofa again, watching the two humans sit crosslegged on the floor, holding the bow between them. "Do you know an older me?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, I do," Clint answered, solemn and serious.

"What's he like?" Loki asked.

Clint took a deep breath before answering. "He's very confused and angry, and he's done things to me and my friends that I can't forgive him for. But after meeting you, I think I have a better idea of why he's like that."

Loki looked pretty miserable. "Do you hate me?" he asked Clint.

Clint considered him carefully before answering. "You know what? I don't think I do. I think you're not so bad. You just need some better teachers who can make sure you don't end up so confused. I had some bad teachers when I was a kid and I was pretty badly confused for a while there. But then someone found me who knew how to set me straight."

Loki chewed on the inside of his lip. "Could I meet them?" he asked.

Clint frowned. "I'm sorry, Loki. The older you killed him."

Loki's lip wobbled. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, and made to retreat back under the couch.

"Hey, no, it's okay," Clint said, his heart breaking for the kid. He put a hand over the dark sleek hair. "You wouldn't have done it if you knew what you know now. You've already learned important new things."

"But I don't want to kill him!" Loki wailed.

"Hey, I know, it's not fair. You didn't get a vote." Clint took a deep breath and let it out slowly, still petting the little Loki's head. "Let's make a deal, okay? Let's not blame ourselves for things the older Loki decided should happen."

Loki snuffled, then looked up at Clint. "You feel guilty about things I did? Older me?"

"Yeah, sometimes," answered Clint. "But neither of us had a choice, so we shouldn't let it bother us, okay?"

Loki nodded solemnly, and then they shook on it. Then Clint looked around to see what had happened to Tony.

Apparently he'd found a pen in the desk drawer and was using the metal clip on the cap to unscrew the screws on Clint's caliper release and completely disassemble the thing. "Tony," Clint groaned.

"What?" the kid answered. "There's wear on your shooting glove but this looks untouched. You never use it. And I'll put it back. I just wanted to see how it works."

"All right, all right," Clint sighed. "Just, next time, ask. Also, this whole building belongs to older you, so I'm sure there's something of yours somewhere for you to take apart. And tools."

Tony's eyes widened. "Really?" he said.

"Yeah, but you'd better check in with Bruce first," Clint answered. "He's your lab buddy, he'll have some idea what's important and what's OK for you to mess with."

Tony frowned. "Bruce? I thought he was a medical doctor."

"Yeah, well, Bruce is a lot of things," Clint said with a cryptic smile. "Oh, you know what else? He can cook. You guys hungry at all?"

Tony shrugged, putting the mechanical release back together. "I eat when my nanny says eat," he answered.

Clint laughed. "You know, older you could use one of those," he said.

"I am hungry," Loki said. "Bruce gave me a fruit, and it was good, but it wasn't very much."

"Okay," Clint said. "Would you two be all right with going up to Bruce's floor? It's got the best kitchen and all his spices and things, and we can make sure no one else is there, okay?"

Tony and Loki had a brief, wordless consultation, and Loki nodded, and then Tony nodded, and Clint threw his bow case back over his shoulder and they all started back towards the elevator.

"Jarvis, can you make sure Bruce knows what's up?" Clint said.

"Already done, Agent Barton," the AI responded.

Tony frowned slightly. "Jarvis, are you everybody's imaginary friend now?" he asked.

"You are always my primary concern," the AI answered, "but those that your adult self judges to be friends, so do I."

Tony raised his eyebrows at that. "We're friends?" he asked.

"Yeah," Clint answered. "We pretend not to be, but we are."

"Who else?" Tony asked as they got into the elevator.

Jarvis answered. "Miss Pepper Potts and James Rhodes, Doctor Bruce Banner, Barton's partner, Agent Natasha Romanoff, who you saw briefly earlier today, Captain Steve Rogers, and Prince Thor."

Loki's hand found and squeezed Clint's hand tightly. "You know Thor?" he asked.

"Yeah, I do," Clint answered. "He was mortal for a while, and I almost shot him, but then he learned some things, and now he's better at thinking first instead of just smashing everything, so yeah, he's a friend."

Loki giggled, and some of the pressure on Clint's hand let up, which was a relief to Clint.

Tony still looked up at him skeptically. "But really. Captain Steve Rogers? And me? Friends?"

Clint sniggered. "It did take a while for you two to see eye-to-eye. But yeah. He's not so bad when he's not worrying himself to death over something. He's worried about you."

Tony scoffed, but he didn't argue further.

They exited the elevator onto Bruce's floor, which was decorated in a soothing combination of blues, greens and browns. Bruce was in the kitchen just around the corner, humming to himself and putting a kettle on to boil. "Hey," he said as they all made their way in.

"Hey, Doc," Clint answered. Bruce raised his eyebrows at the way Loki was still clinging to Clint's hand. Clint gave a tiny shrug in response.

Tony sat down on one of the barstools, swinging his legs and crossing his arms on the counter. "So, Doctor Banner. Clint said we work together. Are you my lab assistant or what?"

Bruce chuckled a bit at that. "No, Tony. I've got my own lab space for my projects, we just end up collaborating a lot, even though our specialties shouldn't quite match up."

Tony nodded. "'Kay, so what are your specialties?"

"Well, my PhD is in nuclear physics, I've got a master's in cellular biology, I'm a licensed MD in some countries that aren't this one, and I've picked up enough mechanical and electrical engineering here and there to follow most of what you get up to. Can't really wrap my head around your most sophisticated computer programming projects, but other than that." Bruce smiled and opened his fridge. "Anything in particular you guys want to eat?"

Tony blinked, impressed despite himself.

"Do you have any game birds?" Loki asked into the momentary silence.

"I've got chicken, if that'll work for you," Bruce said, and as the other three nodded, he got out a package of chicken breasts and started to prepare them. "This might take a while. Clint, do you want to set them up with some drinks and snacks while I'm cooking?"

Clint smiled. "Sure thing. Lemme see. You like milk? Grape juice?"

Tony gave another one of his eloquent shrugs, and Loki said, "I usually have mead," so Clint decided to wing it, and filled one glass with lemonade and another with milk, then stirred some chocolate syrup into the second.

"Those are my two favorite drinks," he said, "so if neither of you likes them, I can always drink them." He plunked a straw into each, and told the boys in a stage whisper, "Bruce hates it when food gets wasted. He's kinda annoying about it." That got smiles from everyone, so Clint was pretty proud of himself.

Tony took the lemonade, which left Loki looking curiously at the chocolate milk. "Go ahead, try it," said Clint. "Or do you want me to taste it first?" Loki nodded, so Clint took a sip, then slid the glass back to Loki. The prince took a cautious sip, then smiled, and the glass started to drain at a decent rate.

"Well looks like I chose right," Clint said, eyes crinkling. He got himself another glass of lemonade, then explored the fridge a little more. "So, pre-dinner snacks. You like fruit, right?" He pointed at Loki, who nodded. "And you're going to shrug no matter what I say?" He pointed at Tony, who shrugged. "Right, grapes it is," Clint said, and retrieved a package of red grapes from the fridge, putting them into a bowl, and, mindful of Loki's eyes on him, ate a few.

The boys each took some, chewing thoughtfully. They looked curiously at each other again. Unsurprisingly, Tony was the first to speak. "So what's your planet like?" he asked.

Loki frowned. "I would have said it has the grandest of cities and the fiercest of warriors, but this place seems to have those too, only very differently. On Asgard everything is shining and golden. My father is king, and everyone loves him, and my mother and brother." Loki frowned again.

"Well that's the most ridiculous thing I ever heard. There isn't anyone that everybody loves. Here, the more people know who you are, the more people love you and the more people hate you." Tony had his contemptuous expression firmly in place.

"That is not how things are on Asgard," Loki said, sighing.

"Sounds like your dad has enough power that people are afraid to say they don't like him," Tony said.

"Then why do they all smile at my father and my mother and my brother? If it is fear of royal retribution, why don't they smile at ME?" Loki wailed.

Tony had no idea how to respond to that. He looked to Clint again. Clint rushed around the counter, and, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, caught Loki up in his arms and petted his hair, and held him as he cried. "Shhhh," he said. "It's all right."

"I miss them," Loki said through his sniffles. "But I don't want to go back."

"SShhh," Clint continued. "We'll figure it out."

Bruce was staring, disbelieving. Clint ignored him and continued to comfort Loki.

Tony was looking back and forth between the two adults, knowing something was going on but not what it was. He contemplated their expressions. Then he said, "Bruce?"

"Yeah, Tony?" Bruce came over closer to where Tony was sitting.

"What did older Loki do to Clint? I know he killed some people, but there's something else, isn't there."

Bruce sighed. "Yeah, there is," he said, "but it's not my story to tell." Then Bruce looked thoughtfully at Tony. "What happened down there that made them so close?"

"I dunno." Tony scowled. "Loki likes bows, I guess."

Bruce could tell that that was an evasion, but didn't call him on it. They sat and quietly watched Clint and Loki, until Bruce realized something. "You're allowed to want attention too," he said quietly to Tony, ruffling the boy's hair. The only response Bruce got was an expression that tried to be disdainful, but missed by a mile. Bruce left his hand there for a minute, then stayed close by while he continued making the salad.

"Oh, Clint said you could show me where there are tools and things I could use," Tony said to Bruce.

"Yeah," the doctor answered. "I know my way around your workshop pretty well. No one knows it like Jarvis, of course, but I'm always interested to see what you get up to in there."

Bruce watched sadly as Tony's eyes scanned his face for any trace of insincerity. "After dinner?" Bruce suggested, and when Tony saw that Bruce meant it, he grinned.

"Yeah, sounds good," the boy said, trying to be casual.

Bruce rubbed his messy brown hair again. "Salad's ready," he said then, just loud enough so that the other two would know it was a comment for them, too.

They all sat at the bar and ate salad, and then apricot chicken when that came out of the oven, and it was all strangely domestic.

"Is this how normal families eat dinner?" Tony asked.

Clint shrugged. "I wouldn't know. It's nice, though." He smiled at the others.

"Yeah, something like this, I think," said Bruce. "It reminds me of the time I lived with my cousin and her parents. They were pretty normal, I think." He nudged Tony affectionately. "Not what you're used to?"

"No, when there's not a big fancy party I eat by myself," he said. "Well, sometimes with my mom, but it's not like this." Then his eyes widened in realization. "My parents... they're dead by now, aren't they."

Bruce put a hand on the kid's shoulder. "Yes, Tony. I'm sorry."

Tony blinked back tears. "Makes sense. Dad would have been, uh, ninety-three? And Mom was sick a lot, so."

Bruce kept his hand on the boy's shoulder, rubbing gently with his thumb. Loki was staring at Tony with a kind of pitying shock. Then he turned to Clint, needing to make sure. "Are my..." but he couldn't continue.

"They're gods, kid, they're fine."

Loki nodded, then chewed at his lip as he looked at Tony.

Then Jarvis spoke into the silence. "Doctor Banner, Agent Barton. Pardon the interruption, but Captain Rogers has returned, in company with Prince Thor, and they wish to speak with you."

Bruce and Clint looked at the boys, and the boys looked at each other.

"That's your brother, right? I guess you want to see him," Tony said to Loki. Loki looked at Clint, then nodded. "Jarvis, are you sure Captain Rogers is really my friend?" Tony continued.

"Quite certain, Sir," Jarvis answered.

"All right," said Tony, nodding. "Let's go."

So they went, Jarvis updating them that Steve, Natasha and Thor had all gathered on the common level, and were waiting.

Steve and Natasha were rather shocked, given what they had known when they had last seen the boys, to see them as they came out of the elevator, Loki on Clint's hip with arms curled around the archer's neck, and Tony standing with Bruce, who had one hand on his head and one on his shoulder.

Once he wiped the shock off his face, Steve smiled. "I see you made friends," he said. Tony scowled at him in return.

Loki paid no attention to him, eyes locked on Thor. Thor, for his part, was transfixed, looking at the small boy with a wistful smile. Clint looked at his charge for a moment, gauging his reaction, and then started walking towards Thor.

"Are you really Thor?" Loki asked the towering man quietly.

"I am indeed, Loki. Heimdall told me that you were in the snare of a spell, and might need my assistance. Mother sends her love. She has missed you." Thor's smile widened somewhat, but he seemed hesitant to move, to break the spell of calm.

"Have I been away very long?" Loki asked.

"It is barely a year since you last stood on Asgard," said Thor, "but it has not been an easy year."

Loki nodded. "Clint told me that I did bad things. Killed people. Do you know why?"

Thor's eyes narrowed, landing on Clint, truly seeing their closeness for the first time. "I could wish you had not told him," the thunder god said, "but if this is the way you felt it best to take your revenge, I cannot stop you."

Clint shifted a little under Thor's gaze, but Loki held out a hand. "Thor. It's all right. Clint and I have a deal. Neither of us blames ourselves for things the older version of me decided should happen."

Thor turned back to Loki, gaze softening. "Good," he said. "You are only a child, for all you still seem to see more of the truth in things than I can, despite all the growing up I have done."

Clint caught Thor's attention again. "I didn't tell him for me," he said pointedly. "I told him for him. When I was a kid, I hated being lied to."

Thor nodded, looking incredibly sad. "I take your point," he said.

"What?" Loki asked him, suspicion in his bright green eyes. "You know something. What is wrong with me? Why am I different from everyone on Asgard? Why don't I grow up to be a hero?"

Thor sighed, long and deep. "Perhaps friend Clint is right. You have been lied to enough. I will tell you the thing you learned that broke you and sent you spiralling into madness, because perhaps if you had been told sooner, or in a better way, things may not have gone so wrong. But first you must promise me that you will remember two things."

Loki nodded, eyes wide. "What things?" he asked.

"That you are my brother, and always will be," Thor said, setting a hand on the boy's shoulder, "and that I love you and nothing can change that."

Loki unwrapped his arms from around Clint's neck and reached out towards Thor, who embraced him as only a god can, completely and sincerely and with no room for doubt. "I'm scared," Loki said into the crook of his neck.

Thor rubbed a huge hand across his back, and said quietly, "I am, as well."

Loki leaned back to look into Thor's face. "But you are Thor, Odin's firstborn, who laughs in the face of enemies. Nothing scares you."

Thor looked at his brother gravely. "Lies, all of it, and I swear to you, there will be no more. I will not lie to you again, Brother."

"But you are scared to tell me the truth."

"Yes, I am. But I will do it, nevertheless."

Clint was hesitant to let the kid alone with Thor, however much Thor was honestly trying to be a good brother and had been set on the right track. So the trio retreated, to a sofa on the far side of the room.

"What is it, Thor? It must be a terrible secret if you are frightened to tell me of it."

Thor frowned. "I have grown accustomed to it. It does not change who you are. Only your choices do that, or so I believe."

"And still you will not say it. Why, what is it?" Loki took a breath, expression turning desperate. "Tell me!"

Clint sent Thor a glare for winding him up, that said, 'Get on with it!'

"You are not Aesir by birth," Thor told him at last. "Odin chose to foster you and raise you as his own, and care for you, though you were born to someone else."

"To who? What? A mortal? An elf?"

Thor took another breath. "A Jotunn."

Loki stiffened, then, a moment later, threw himself away from Thor, clinging to Clint. "You are not my brother! You are not Thor! You are some enemy, some impostor, and you lie vilely!" He buried his face in Clint's neck, breathing hard, refusing to lift his head to look at Thor's stricken face. After a moment he said, in the smallest of voices, "Is it true?"

Clint answered, "I don't know. I don't know and I don't care. I couldn't tell a dragon from a bilgesnipe and I wouldn't care if you were one. You're just a kid I met this afternoon who needed my help, and that's all I need to know."

Loki went absolutely limp, shuddering against Clint, who held him.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Bruce, Steve and Natasha had been sort of hovering around Tony.

"I, uh, got you some clothes," said Natasha awkwardly, handing Tony a bag and then stepping back.

Bruce could tell that Tony was overwhelmed by the attention being leveled at him, although he was already practiced in not showing it - it manifested pretty much the same way it did when he was an adult. So Bruce kept a hand on his shoulder, and studiously ignored him otherwise.

"Any word on what exactly happened, or how we put things back?" he asked Steve.

"Well, it's complicated, no surprise there," Cap answered. "SHIELD hasn't got anyone who specializes in Asgardian-style magic yet, which I thought was interesting phrasing. Thor says it's way over his head, and that he'd ask his mom to take a look at them, but she can't leave Asgard right now. We could go to her, but Thor isn't sure how well a human kid would tolerate traveling by Bifrost, and Loki... well, no one is really sure we want him back to his normal adult self, anyway, so... that doesn't leave us with a whole lot of options for what to do about Tony."

"I'm right here," the human boy said, stopping in his exploration of the bag of clothing to glare at Steve.

"Right, sorry, Tony," Cap said immediately. Bruce looked thougtful. Tony scowled.

"Fine, tell me where to go change and you can talk about me behind my back all you want."

Bruce squeezed Tony's arm reassuringly, but he didn't think denying it would go over particularly well, so he just pointed Tony in the direction of the bathroom, and he went.

"How are they doing?" Cap asked. "How much do they know?"

"Well, Jarvis and Clint have talked to them more, so I'm not sure exactly how much they've been told, but they're smart kids. They've figured out a lot themselves. And considering how confusing this all must be, I think they're doing pretty well."

"You've gotten them to trust us, though? We aren't going to have more running away problems, are we?"

Bruce sighed and looked in the direction Tony had left. "Steve, I don't think Tony trusts that easy, even - maybe especially - at the point in his life that he's at now. Nothing is off the table. But at the very least, I don't think Tony is going anywhere without Loki."

It was at that moment that Loki's anguished reaction to Thor's words rang out across the common room. Bruce pressed his lips together and frowned at the floor.

"Steve, this isn't going to get easy anytime soon. These two, as kids? Very intelligent, very wary, very much in need of careful handling. Don't worry, though, if they don't react the way you think they 'should.' They've got a lot to work through."

"You know a lot about kids?" Steve asked.

"I know a lot about the psychology of troubled people," Bruce answered, with a smile that was a self-deprecating twist. "I've had to learn."

Steve nodded, acknowledgement heavy in his eyes.

Tony came back, then, wearing the more or less appropriately sized jeans and black tee Natasha had brought for him. He took in the scene on the sofa. His little jaw tightened as he looked up at Bruce. "What happened to Loki?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," Bruce answered. "Thor told him something."

"More about what his grownup self did?" Tony asked.

"Maybe."

Tony bit his lip. "Do you still want to build stuff with me in the workshop?"

"Sure," Bruce said. "Nothing better to do."

"Do you think Loki would want to come too?"

Bruce frowned, looking at the boy huddled in Clint's arms. "Well, we can always ask," he said finally.

They approached cautiously, and Loki watched them come, though he kept one eye on Thor and his cheek pressed against Clint's chest

Thor watched them come as well, sighing in resignation. He stood, saying, "I shall retire to my own chambers here. I hope that you will be willing to speak to me again, Brother, but I will not force my company upon you." He frowned sadly, suppressing several things he wanted to say or do. Instead he ended with, "Loki, brother, never doubt that I love you." Loki merely eyed him as he left the room.

"Hey, Loki," Tony said, inserting himself into the other boy's line of sight. "Look, I got real clothes, I think there's some for you, too. Anyway Bruce is going to show me the workshop here. You can come if you want," the human boy said with studied casualness.

Loki squeezed Clint's arm, looking up at him questioningly. "Yeah, of course I'll come," Clint answered. "You want me to help you with your clothes?"

Loki considered the clothes Tony was wearing, then nodded. Clint stood up, lifting Loki and saying, "You two can head up if you want, I know where Tony's workshop is."

Bruce looked at Tony, who shook his head. "We'll wait." Loki looked subtly grateful.

Clint headed over to where Natasha stood talking to Steve and holding a second bag of clothes. She gave him a concerned look so subtle, only he would have noticed it. He shook his head and held out his hand for the bag. Clint carried Loki into the bathroom, where he put him down, took out the clothes and explained briefly which ones went where.

"You want me to wait outside?" he said then, and Loki nodded, regaining a little of his regal poise.

Outside, Natasha came to stand beside him. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Taking care of a kid who needs it."

"But that's Loki."

"I know," said Clint, rubbing at his face. "Believe me, I know. The eyes, the tone... yeah, I know Loki."

"You know he's still carrying some of his knives, right?"

"Of course, Nat, I'm not stupid. I see where his hands go when he gets nervous."

She shook her head. "I don't get it."

"Nat. You know how messed up I was before I got a second chance at turning out to be one of the good guys, and you know I like to pay it forward when I get the chance. He may be Loki, but he's not evil, and he doesn't want to be. I thought maybe I could help him out with that."

Natasha sighed. "All right. Just know I will be very angry if you let him stab you. He's stabbed enough of my friends."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm keeping an eye out. I know desperate kids." He looked at her thoughtfully. "Okay, I get why you're wary of Loki. Why were you so stiff around Tony? He's just Tony, but smaller."

"No, in fact, there are one or two crucial differences," she said uncomfortably.

"Okay, tell me," he said, looking at her with concern.

"I interact with people by playing off of their ideas about me, what they expect out of me and what they want from me."

"Right, okay, so?"

"So regular Tony wanted and expected me to be pretty and a competent professional. I worked with that. This kid doesn't have a company or a libido. I can't get a read on him. I don't know what he expects and I'm not sure he expects anything. And he's... surprisingly hesitant to communicate what he wants."

"Yeah, I noticed that too," Clint said. "Starting to think that adult Stark has just been making up for lost time in that area. And I think mostly what he wants is for people to pay attention to him, listen when he talks. He's just not used to that right now."

Natasha nodded thoughtfully. "Thanks, I'll keep that in mind," she said.

Loki emerged from the bathroom then, in black cargo pants, a green and yellow raglan tee, and still wearing that belt across one shoulder, although the agents could tell by the way his gestures had changed that some of the knives had been moved to his pockets. Clint smiled helplessly at him, and thought to himself that you'd have to be some kind of fucked up to find that adorable. Loki returned the smile, subtly knowing and grateful, and took hold of Clint's hand.

"We're headed up to the workshop, I guess," Clint told Natasha. "See you later?"

She nodded, businesslike. "Be careful," she told him.

"Always am," he replied, which got a head-shake from her.

They returned to where Bruce and Tony had been waiting, talking to each other and Jarvis about what equipment was available. "Come on," Tony said, heading towards the elevator and beckoning eagerly. "Jarvis says I have, like, three machine shops."

When they came out of the elevator onto the main workshop level - which, like his Malibu workshop, had a glass wall between the floor lobby and the shop itself, so he could see people coming but still keep them out - Tony could only stare. The uncertainty was back in him.

Bruce went right to the door, and Jarvis opened it for him. He stepped inside, and then turned back to wait for Tony. "Come on, Tony," he said. It's your shop."

Tony took a couple of hesitant steps, taking in the half-finished projects, the robots, the two and a half suits of armor in various states of repair.

"No," he said. "It's older me's shop. And he isn't really me, is he?"

Bruce frowned, and Clint looked considering. "Well, you're a lot more similar than the two Lokis I know," Clint said. "I don't think he'd mind."

"But he's... grown up. And doing Stark Industries stuff. And... friends with Steve Rogers. He's probably like my dad."

Bruce gave a long, sad sigh, closing his eyes. Then he walked back out of the workshop, and crouched down so that he was on a level with Tony again. "Tony, I promise you that he's not. Not in the ways you're afraid of. The older you is a very good friend of mine, and I spend a lot of time in that shop. I'd really like to show some of it to you."

Tony considered Bruce's expression carefully before answering. Then he smiled. "Yeah, okay, impress me," he said, crossing his arms. Bruce returned the smile, warm and amused, before standing and leading the way into the workshop again.

This time Tony followed, and then Loki and Clint, trailing behind. "Hey Dummy!" Bruce called across the shop, and the big robotic arm rolled towards them. "This is Dummy," Bruce told Tony. "He's the first AI-controlled robot you ever built. When was that, Jarvis?"

"Sir was fourteen."

Tony and Dummy had reached out to each other, the small hand and the claw meeting in a clumsy, hesitant handshake.

"Dummy recognizes you," Jarvis continued. "He is quite confused by the fact that you are younger than he has ever seen you."

"I built you?" Tony asked the arm in awe. The now-free claw bobbed up and down in a clearly affirmative motion. "Hydraulic actuators, pressure sensors, cameras, mics..." his fingers brushed over the parts as he named them. "I don't know much programming yet but I can see how your hardware works." Tony smiled, and Dummy made a pleased humming sound.

"A voice but no words? Not like Jarvis."

"My vocal programming took considerably more time, as well as processing power that was unheard of at the time Dummy was constructed," Jarvis cut in. "I did not come online for several more years." Tony nodded, still examining Dummy, hands gently exploring his wiring.

"Dummy is your lab assistant," Bruce said. "I'm just a little too smart for that to be an accurate title for me." Dummy made an annoyed but fond noise in Bruce's direction.

Loki wandered up, then, dragging Clint along with him. "You constructed these creatures?" he asked Tony with wonder.

"Seems like I will," Tony replied. He was now examining the welds closely. "I do good work," he said, smirking.

"It is impressive magic," Loki said.

Tony immediately straightened and looked at Loki. "Oh, none of this is magic. I might not be able to do all of this yet, but it's all tech. Machines, software. There isn't..." then Tony looked up at Bruce and Clint. "Is there magic?"

Bruce looked distinctly embarrassed. "Well, there are things that Thor, Loki and others from their world can do that we can't quite explain. They call it magic. That's actually how you got... where and when you are. An Asgardian sorceress cast a spell on you both."

Tony blinked up at Bruce, staring for a full minute, before he turned to Loki with the same wide eyes. "You can do magic?"

Loki frowned, stepping back a little, and holding tighter to Clint's hand. He was overwhelmed, and cowed in the face of Tony's intense expression of excitement.

Tony looked up at Bruce. "I really wanna know about magic, but I think I might break Loki again." Bruce laughed internally at the genuinely conflicted expression on Tony's face.

"I've got some data on some of the mystical artifacts we've been able to study," Bruce told Tony, "and some recordings of the casting we've been able to see. Let's go over to my desk and I can pull up the data for you, and you can get used to the holographic user interface that's built into this whole place."

"Ooh," Tony said, perking up at the mention of holograms. "Manipulable three-dimensional images? How does the input work?"

"It's a gesture-based system that uses visual input from several cameras - and input into the infrared - to determine the position of your hands in space. It eats processing power, but you've got that here in spades."

While Tony and Bruce headed to the desk, deep in conversation about the computer tech in the building, Clint picked up Loki again, and the boy folded into his arms without protest.

"Enough drama for one day, huh?" he asked. Loki just leaned in and clutched at Clint's shirt. "Yeah, okay. How about we just sit over here and watch them do their science thing from a distance. Always do like a little distance between me an' whatever needs my attention."

Loki smiled tiredly, so Clint carried him over to the sofa, and snugged the kid up against his side. Loki relaxed somewhat and maybe even started to drift into sleep now and again, but his hands still clutched tight at the belt where some of his knives were hidden. And then, as Clint felt himself settling into the soft seat and loosening up a bit, he noticed how his own hand drifted automatically to the leg he had propped up, crossed over the other knee, where he could reach the sheath in his boot easily.

Clint chuckled. Loki gave him a curious glance, and the archer said, "Kid, you and me have more in common than I'd ever have believed." Loki continued to look at him, so he tapped his boot where the blade beneath the leather would give a slightly metallic sound, then he rested his hand near it again.

Loki blinked, realizing what it meant, then gave a tiny smile and relaxed further into Clint's side, watching contentedly as Bruce and Tony chattered, gestured and laughed on the other side of the room. Then, Loki finally fell into a real sleep, and Clint held him, and thought about how much it meant that the kid trusted Clint to watch his back.

Tony had finally stopped playing with the user interface and file system - and Bruce was going to try very hard to save the whole internet thing for another day - and had gotten involved in the files on the Tesseract. Bruce was finding himself having to explain the basics of several disciplines, albeit in very broad strokes, many of which he had first explored himself because adult Tony had brought them into one of their mutual projects.

There was too much ground to cover and too many land mines Bruce was trying to stay clear of, and they finally, inevitably hit one when Tony asked if any of the Tesseract-based weapons were being made by Stark Industries. Bruce stopped dead, and of course Tony knew immediately that something was wrong.

"No, Stark Industries isn't pursuing that angle at the moment," Bruce said, though he knew it was too late to pass that off as anything but what it was - a subject Bruce was really not looking forward to explaining to Tony.

Tony was, as usual, curious, smart, and tenacious, and so he began, "What is Stark Industries pursuing at the moment? Because there's all this work being done, lots of possibilities, and if I decided to focus on something else, that's gotta be something spectacular."

Bruce bit his lip, then decided to just answer the question straight. "You've got a bunch of consumer electronics on the market, cell phones and computers, things like that, research across the spectrum, things like genetic engineering, but the focus has been mostly on arc reactor tech and more efficient clean energy."

Tony blinked. "No weapons at all?"

"Only for close personal friends," Bruce answered. "Mostly you, Rhodey, Clint and Natasha."

Tony frowned. "Then all that armor, that's just for us? Not for the army or anyone?" Bruce nodded. "Why?"

Bruce sighed. "Tony... that's a very complicated question."

"Bullshit. I just asked you how magic works and you started explaining subatomic multidimensionality. You know I can take complicated." He looked back at Bruce imperiously, expectantly.

Bruce sighed again. "All right. A couple of years ago, you found out that Stark Industries weapons were being sold to our enemies under the table by one of your employees. You decided that selling weapons wasn't making anyone safer, so you stopped, and became a superhero instead. You've saved a lot of people, wearing that armor. Stopped some wars. Won a couple, too."

Tony thought, and then nodded. "See, not very complicated after all."

Bruce smiled, slightly unhappily. "Yeah, I suppose not. But I left out all the parts that I really hate thinking about. And when I get upset, I get really upset. So don't ask me to explain any more today."

Tony nodded, something in Bruce's tone letting him know that although Bruce might like him enough to patiently explain thirty-seven years' worth of forgotten science, he was not going to obey Tony's every command. Tony looked around the room, line of inquiry derailed, searching for the next thing to focus on. His eyes fell on Loki, sound asleep against Clint's side, and Clint dozing with his head flopped back across the back of the couch.

Bruce followed his line of sight, seeing the two, and then checked the time. "Wow, uh, it's probably time for you guys to go to bed."

"But I was going to build a thing, and figure out how magic works, and I'm not tired, and..."

"There's always something else to do that's interesting or important enough to stay up for. That's how you talk me into staying up all night doing science with you sometimes. But today it's not going to work, mostly because I think they'd be more comfortable in beds, but I think they'd prefer to stick close to us."

Tony took this in, frowning but nodding.

"And like I always tell you, the workshop will still be here in the morning." Bruce nudged Tony, who replied with a grudging smile. "Hm, I'm not sure how this is going to work. I know there are extra rooms all over the tower, but if we want to stick close... and then, it's usually better for everyone if I wake up in my own bed, but I only have the one guest room on my floor."

"I've never had a real sleepover," was Tony's reply. "Only seen them on TV. Me and Loki could share, like friends or something."

Bruce found himself pained by the uncertainty of Tony's voice, like he really had no idea of how the concept of 'friends' translated to practical application.

"That's an idea," Bruce replied. "Let's go find out what they think." He ruffled Tony's hair again, and then cautiously approached the two figures on the couch. Clint blinked and focused on Bruce as he got within a few feet of them.

"Hey, Clint. Hey, Loki," Bruce greeted them as the barest movement of Clint's hand on Loki's shoulder woke the kid immediately.

"Hey, Doc," Clint replied. "You guys done working?"

"For today," Bruce said. "Just trying to figure out where we're all going to sleep. I was thinking my floor - you know how much I hate waking up in strange places - but I've only got the two rooms."

Tony watched Loki for a moment, taking in his mood and half-awake state, before leaning in just slightly and saying, "Hey Lokes, wanna have a sleepover?"

Loki blinked again, then frowned slightly and mumbled, "What?"

"Sleep in the same room. Sometimes kids here who are friends do it. Like a party. But with sleeping."

"You are very strange," said Loki, curling further into Clint's side very subtly.

Clint stroked his hair softly. "Sounds like a good plan, if you're up for it," he told Loki. "I'd be right outside if you needed me." He lifted his face to look at Bruce. "That couch of yours looks pretty cozy," he said. "Nicer than this one, and I know big Tony falls asleep on this thing all the time. He probably doesn't buy couches unless they've been certified for comfortable napping or something."

Bruce chuckled. "Yeah, everything in this place is way too nice for the mentality I've cultivated, but it's hard to say no to Tony."

So they went about the business of preparing for sleep, going back through the common floor to retrieve the shopping bags, which each had another change of clothes, pajamas and toothbrushes. Natasha had gone to consult one of the experts in more local forms of magic, but Steve was still there, sketching in his book.

He looked up and smiled as they came in. "Everything going all right?" he asked.

"Yeah, just getting ready to bed down - looks like on my floor."

"All right, well, let me know if you need any help with anything," Steve offered earnestly. Then he pulled Bruce slightly aside to speak to him. "I don't know what the chances are of getting Tony back to normal. I'll keep coordinating with Thor and Natasha, see who else we can find that might have a solution. But I'm not feeling optimistic." Steve cringed a bit. "I'm sorry."

Bruce nodded somewhat grimly. "Whell, Tony and I plan on tackling the magic/tech divide again tomorrow. Maybe we can find something that will help, at the very least a way of tracking down the Enchantress and see if she can be convinced to reverse this."

Steve frowned slightly. "Are you sure that's wise, Bruce? He's seven years old. It's a tough problem and there's a lot riding on it. I don't want to put too much pressure on him."

Bruce sighed. "Steve. That kid may be seven, but he's Tony Stark. He's got his brain already, he's just missing some of the background information. And with a problem like this one, it might actually help to have someone working on it who isn't already in the habit of thinking certain ways about things." He shook his head slightly. "And if you think Tony Stark's life has ever had a moment without pressure, you don't know him as well as I thought you did."

Steve nodded. "I'll leave it up to you. You know him best. And I do know that his life has been complicated. I just... I really don't want to contribute to that. Any more than I already have."

Bruce breathed out slowly, closing his eyes. He clapped Steve on the shoulder reassuringly. "None of this was you. You weren't there, and you would have been, if given the choice. Just... give him the chance to get used to the fact that you're a person, not just a legend."

Steve nodded. "Well, ideally I don't want him to have time to get used to anything. But if this drags on for much longer... yeah. I'll try to do that."

Steve waved him back in the direction of the others, and he went, coming back into the conversation to hear Tony telling Loki about the proper use of a toothbrush. Clint smirked at Bruce over their heads. Bruce shook his head slightly, smiling, and began herding the group back in the direction of the elevator.

Back on Bruce's floor, Loki relaxed marginally, back in a space which he recognized and didn't associate with any of the traumatic events of the past few hours. There were no more incidents while they were preparing for sleep, as Tony kept his chatter firmly and intelligently on mundane topics, like the differences in plumbing systems between modern Earth and an Asgard of centuries ago, trying to keep Loki engaged but ending up involved in a rambling lecture on the float mechanism that controlled water level in the tank of most toilets. Loki was left blinking in exhausted confusion, but he really didn't seem to mind.

Bruce found himself, for the first time, immensely grateful that he had a guest room with a tremendously large bed. He had argued with Tony, saying there was no conceivable situation in which he would use it. Now it was proving to be a necessity for the two small boys that he'd somehow gotten attached to and who needed the security and tranquility that permeated his floor as much, perhaps even more than he did. Although he thought Tony would probably be less than thrilled that this was how he was proven right.

They all went into the guest room, Tony bouncing in on one side of the enormous bed and Loki slowly and deliberately wriggling his way under the covers on the other. Bruce wondered briefly if it would take some time for Tony to wind down, but he actually trailed off in the middle of a sentence while Bruce was still tucking him in, smoothing the blankets over his minuscule form. Bruce ruffled his hair slightly, and then stepped back from the bed, watching Clint and Loki negotiate their terms.

Loki was in pajamas now, no knives tucked about his person, but he still clung to the belt he had had on him since he was changed, not willing to part with it. Clint didn't comment on that, just smoothed Loki's hair and murmured reassurances until the boy began to relax again.

"I'll be on guard," he said, "and so will Jarvis, and Bruce is going to be right next door, and he may not look like it but the man can kick some serious ass if he's given a reason. So just yell if you need anything, and I'll be right here."

Once Loki began to drift, the two men backed out of the room, and Bruce whispered, "Jarvis, lights," and they wandered out into Bruce's living room and just kind of stared at each other.

"Well," said Bruce, "that was an interesting day."

Clint smiled tiredly and moved over to the aforementioned large soft sofa, collapsing into it. Bruce contemplated him for a moment, and then sank down beside him. Then he turned to the archer, and for a while neither of them said anything, just looked at each other, humor shining through the tiredness in their eyes. Finally Bruce took a long breath and broke the silence.

"Well, I should probably let you sleep. I'm pretty beat, and I wasn't the one going into battle earlier today, or crawling through the vents looking for them." Bruce gestured in the direction of his guest room.

"Nah, stay for a while, Doc," Clint said. "That stuff's what I do every day. What's slowing me down now is the whole 'realizing how similar I am to my mortal enemy' thing, and sitting here alone definitely isn't gonna help with that."

Bruce settled further into the couch with a relieved sigh.

"What about you?" Clint continued. "How are you holding up?"

Bruce opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again and shook his head. "I'll manage," he said, giving up on exploring the whole thing.

Clint looked at him with piercing eyes. "You know, Doc, it's not just me and Loki that I've been learning an uncomfortable amount about today. I'm also learning a lot about you super-genius types."

Bruce frowned questioningly at the archer, knowing he was up to something, but unable to tell what it was.

"You might not have a problem rattling off formulas and theories and all that tech jargon you keep in your heads, but you sure do have trouble asking for the things you want most."

Bruce's frown became even more confused, but then Clint's hand came up to nestle in the hair at the back of his neck and pull him closer, so Clint could kiss him on the cheek. Bruce was too tired to even process the illogicality of that, so he just let it happen.

"Jesus, there's a lot going on in there, isn't there," Clint said quietly, rubbing at Bruce's temple with the hand that wasn't on his neck.

"I feel like I'm dreaming," Bruce said at last. "So many of the things I don't let myself think about when I'm awake, just in really bizarre contexts."

Clint blew out a breath before asking, "You dream about me, huh?" in a joking tone that really wasn't very joking.

Bruce put a hand over his eyes, trying to focus and make sense of all that was happening. "I dream about a lot of things," he said.

He didn't continue, so Clint said, "Tell me."

Bruce shook his head. "I don't know what'll happen if I go there," he said. "There's too much. I don't want to risk it. Not with them here."

"Bruce." The tone finally got him to look at Clint. "You're not gonna hurt them. If it comes to it, Hulk's not gonna hurt them. He's a good guy. So are you. And I hope you know I wouldn't do anything to put them in danger. So trust me."

Bruce shook his head, but not like it was an answer to that. It was more of a lost motion. Clint stopped it by putting a hand on Bruce's cheek, drawing his eyes in again.

"Tell me what you want most."

Bruce pushed his hand away, but gently, not as if he hadn't wanted it there. He took a deep breath. "All right. Just let me... sort it out a little myself first." He moved Clint's other hand off of his neck with the same air of deliberation and apology, setting it down between them. Then Clint could see Bruce focus inward, studying, learning, gathering information from his own mind.

"When I was at Culver... those were the best years of my life. I was going to have everything I wanted. A chance to do science, make the world better, get respect. To have love, a home, a family. Kids."

Bruce let out another long breath, and let his head fall to rest on his knees. Clint watched him, waiting patiently, observing.

"Haven't thought about that for more than a moment since the accident. It's too dangerous, and Betty's with Len now..."

Bruce had turned his head to the side so Clint could hear him, and he looked so small and sad, and Clint wanted very much to touch him, comfort him, but he knew the moment for that hadn't come. So he just made encouraging noises, and Bruce continued.

"And then this happened, and I've treated kids before, of course, kids in all different situations, and I kept myself from getting attached because I knew I'd be leaving sooner or later. But this is different. This is Tony. This is the tower and I don't plan on leaving, and I can't anyway, not while Tony needs me and I just... Even if we solved this thing tomorrow, I'd still know. No matter what happens, from now on I'll know the answer to the question I've been trying very hard not to ask. Do I really want to be a parent, or is it just some residual artifact of the white-picket-fence fantasy?" Bruce closed his eyes and bit his lip. "I know now. I do."

After a moment of quiet, Clint huffed in response. "So, uh, wow, yeah. I knew there were deep things going on in there." He smiled at Bruce. "So what's so wrong with knowing what you want?"

Bruce groaned. "Because... because I function a certain way, and wanting things isn't part of that. Especially things I can't have, things that could put people in danger. I just deal with what I get, because I have to. I don't get to dwell on what I could have had."

Clint shook his head. "That is no way to live, Doc. That can't be healthy."

Bruce chuckled, and the sound had an edge to it. "More than a billion Buddhists would disagree with you," he said.

"Doesn't make me wrong," Clint insisted. "And then there's this. What if we never figure out how to change them back? What if Little Tony has to grow up all over again? What are you gonna do?"

Bruce pushed himself up with his arms, sitting up again and sighing. "Then I'll be here," he said. "It's Tony. I'll do what I have to to keep my cool. Even..." Bruce's face shaded with alarm. "God, can you even imagine a teenage Tony?"

Clint laughed. "Now that would have been something to see." Then he put a hand over Bruce's on the sofa cushion. "You really think it would be any different if you had a kid of your own? Or if you adopted one? You've known Tony for, what, three months? Four? I know you. You had a kid, any kid, you'd find a way to keep them safe."

Bruce looked at Clint sidelong, frowning. "That's not what I meant. There's a difference between protecting Tony from this mess he's gotten into, and bringing a kid into this life." He shook his head. "And it's not just Hulk I'm worried about. Do you know how many times the Tower has been attacked since I moved in?"

Bruce turned to Clint as he said this, and was caught off guard at the archer's expression, which was more serious than Bruce had ever seen it. "So take kids who are already in danger and don't have anyone," Clint said. "Because they're out there, and the Tower is a hell of a lot better than the system."

Bruce stared at him for a moment, then sighed. "You're not helping. It's never going to happen, and I shouldn't be thinking about how much I want it, so don't talk me around to hoping it does."

Clint frowned at him, but the scientist looked so worn down. "All right, all right, I'll give it a rest. And anyway, we should both get some sleep before the brats need us again."

Bruce's hand swept down over his face, and he nodded. "You're not going to let this go for good, are you?" he grumbled.

Clint shrugged. "It depends."

Bruce sighed as he stood up. "Well, then, I'm going to escape while I can."

"You never answered my question," Clint protested as Bruce began to turn away.

"Which one?"

"Do you dream about me?"

Bruce smiled, small and tired but just a bit mischievous. "I guess we'll find out," he said.

So they parted for the night with a quiet laugh.