TOXIC ~ STEVE ROGERS [1]

Chapter Thirty-Three

Ironman was falling out of the sky.
And falling.
And falling.
And still falling without any hint of stopping.

"He's not slowing down," Thor said, swinging his hammer until it was only a blur of silver and a soothing whir.
He began to fly into the air, but a roar cut him short.

The Hulk, who to be honest I'd forgotten about, snagged Tony out of the air and slid down the side of a building until he reached the ground, Tony in his arms.

With a roar, he pushed Tony off of him, a look of disgust on his green face. I slid on my knees over to him, Rogers close behind. Rogers ripped off the Ironman mask and we all stared at him.

He looked dead. Very dead.

My heart sunk.

Suddenly, the Hulk yelled in fury and the noise startled Tony awake like an electric shock.

I sighed in relief, letting out the breath I felt like I'd been holding for a million years.

"What the hell? What just happened? Please tell me nobody kissed me?" Tony's panicked voice made me laugh out loud. He looked at me with wide eyes. Rogers looked away at the city for a moment, then locked eyes with me.

"We won," he said softly.

"Hell yeah," I said back, our eye contact steady and unwavering.

Tony's chuckle took my gaze from Rogers.

"Alright. Hey. Alright. Good job guys. Let's just not come in tomorrow. Let's just take a day. Have you ever tried shawama? There's a shawama joint about two blocks from here. I don't know what it is, but I wanna try it."

Rogers laughed, and it sounded like music. Tony looked at me.

"See Keight. I stayed safe." I grinned at him, and despite my first impressions of Tony Stark, he wasn't such a bad guy after all.

Thor looked up at the Stark Tower.

"We're not done yet."

* * *

Barton joined us on our way to Stark Tower. It was slow going. Tony couldn't fly, I was on the brink of collapsing and for some reason Rogers, Thor and the Hulk decided not to go on ahead of us. All around us, helicopters and news vans tracked the destruction and devastation that was New York. I was glad for my mask, so that nobody would know who I was.

I was glad it was over, I really was. I'd never in my wildest dreams thought that I would fight aliens, let alone want to. And I did want to save those people. Not because I was heroic, or righteous. But because I knew what it felt like to be broken, and have no one to fight for you.

I never wanted anyone to feel like that.

I felt an arm slip around my shoulder, and looked up to see Tony smiling at me.

"You did good kid. You came through," he almost tripped over a piece of office furniture and chuckled.

"Thanks," I said, unsure of how to respond to the compliment.

"You know, at first I didn't think you were, the kind of person to save the world. I thought, 'wow, this kid is rude and sarcastic and probably hates everyone.' " I laughed loudly, earning attention from Rogers in front of me.

"Well, you're not wrong," I said. Tony smiled.

"But now I see, that you and I are kinda similar. Am I right? And I knew you would come through in the end." My smile faded away.

"How did you know?" I whispered quietly.
Tony squeezed my shoulders.

"Because you're a good kid, Greenie. You're a good kid."

Tony began to talk to Thor and his voice trailed away.

I wasn't good, not by a long shot. Loki had controlled me using only his voice, without his scepter. How? The only reason wasn't that I was half Asgardian. I was weak minded. Foolish. The thought of being in control, being in complete control was so tempting to me because I had never fully had control over my life.

My father had always had control, and even after I left him he still held on to me, controlling from a distance so that I didn't bring him dishonor.

Look at me now Father, I thought. This is what your control has done.

I looked up and forward, and out of the corner of my eyes I caught Rogers looking at me with concern dazzling in his eyes. I glanced at him, but he looked away.

I wasn't worth the golden boy's attention.

Once we reached the foot of the Stark Tower, I felt the rage boil in my heart. My lips pressed together in a thin line, and despite having next to no energy I charged forward at the front of the group, ignoring glances thrown my way.
I was on a mission.

Natasha joined us halfway up. We used the elevator, however busted and unsafe it was. None of us could be bothered using the stairs, apart from the Hulk, who couldn't use the elevator due to weight limits.

As we neared the top, I began to get nervous. I cracked my knuckles, each joint popping loudly in the otherwise silent elevator.

And then suddenly we were there. Standing in front of this pathetic, leather clad creature who was hauling himself up the stairs to the bar on the top floor. We stood behind him, all our weapons bared. Natasha had the scepter, Rogers his shield. Barton aimed his loaded bow at his face, while Thor had his hammer at the ready. Tony had his hand out, palm facing him. My hands glowed dimly as I aimed then at him, and the Hulk, well, he just looked frightening.

Loki, looking like a filthy rag, turned around to face us, wincing. I growled at him. His eyes flickered to me, but they weren't so bright, so hungry as they had been. He sighed.

"If it's all the same to you, I'll have that drink now."