Loki's New Endgame

Chapter 7

Block.

Punch.

Block.

Grab wrist.

Pull.

Duck.

Stab.

There's no time to think. He just has to do it. Because if he doesn't, if he hesitates for even a moment, he's dead. It's strange, fighting the Chitauri he'd been leading only hours earlier, but it's fitting, in a way. When Thanos brought them together the first time, it was against all of their wishes. It stands to reason that this time, he brings them together as enemies, not as allies.

He's not sure what's happening around him. He's not sure if they're winning. He's not sure how many of the Avengers are still alive. He's not even sure his own family is, and to check would be a death sentence. As much as it pains him not to know, he can't tear his gaze away from the Chitauri soldiers in front of him.

"Hey, Scott, how's the van coming?" Steve's voice asks in his ear. At least that means Steve's alive. At least he knows he's not completely alone.

"We're almost there," Scott assures him. "Give us a few more minutes."

"I'm not sure we have a few more minutes," Steve says.

Loki only listens intently enough to know whether or not this time machine is complete or not. When it becomes apparent that it's not, he stops caring so much. If Steve is going to give one of his unnecessary motivational speeches that always seem targeted at already-motivated groups of people, he would rather have already tuned it out before it's begun.

"Holy shit, is that Loki?"

Against his better judgment, that voice gets his attention, if only because it sounds so young. Loki looks around, and, after a few moments of deliberation, decides it must be the little red and blue-suited person – whose suit is actually doing all the work, and very efficiently, with its quick and repeated stabbing of all the surrounding Chitauri as its wearer does nothing but stare at Loki.

Loki puts a finger to his ear, though he's not entirely sure how this communication device works and if anyone is going to hear him. "Why is there a child on the battlefield?"

"I'm not a child! I'm 16!" he says defensively.

"He's an Avenger," Tony says, making no secret of his annoyance.

Loki grabs an oncoming Chitauri's arm and stabs his blade into its shoulder, severing the limb with ease. He throws it aside, then presses his finger to his ear again. "Why are you using child soldiers?"

"You know, now really isn't the time–"

A blow from behind knocks Loki off his feet, and he falls face-first into the ground with a groan. For the briefest moment, his back goes numb, and the tingling sensation left behind is a feeling of pure bliss.

And then it's gone, replaced by the familiarly excruciating pain he'd expected all along. He cries out in pain, his face pressed against the dirt. Okay, he's done. He's out. He's not coming back from this.

Some sort of string shoots out in front of him, and when it pulls back, his earpiece is attached to the end. The kid crouches down in front of him and holds it out to him.

"So you're on our team now?" he asks.

Loki props himself up on his elbow, eliciting a pained groan, and grabs the earpiece with his other hand. "Unfortunately." He does his best to clean the dirt off the earpiece with his thumb before shoving it back in his ear.