I Don't Believe We've Met

Weapon of Choice

Before another press conference could be held to make up for the complete disaster of the first one, Loki was reluctantly pulled into service. Service he didn't know he had to be a part of, and service that he definitely did not want. When you had called him the newest Avenger, it wasn't a ploy to shut people up; it was a secret that you knew, and he just hadn't been told yet. It was going to be announced at that terrible conference, and it got a little too out of hand to mention it to him.

"You are quite mad," Loki snapped at Tony, "and I am certain that this will not see the end that you envision."

"I need all hands, really sorry, new guy. You want free room and board then a little kickback is the least you could do."

"Can't I just get...what do you Midgardians call it? A...a job?"

"You've got one," Stark smiled, almost sorrowfully, "now suit up."

Loki paused, mouth open to retort, instead looking at the rest of the team beginning to file into the jet. He looked down at his attire, finding that the casual jeans and button down that you had bought for him unlikely battle wear. "But I have no suit, as you call it."

"Right here!" You called out to him as you jogged across the hangar bay. "We made it in your signature color, but I had to cut down the horns just a smidge. They'd scrape the roof of the quinjet."

"You knew about this," he whispered angrily, not reaching out for the new attire. The look on his face was a contorted cross between hurt and betrayed, and it stabbed at your chest to see. You were one of the few he trusted in this new home, and to have you already keeping secrets when he was trying so hard to keep none left him uncertain and sad. "Why did you not tell me? Why would you not feel it important to tell me something of this magnitude? (Y/N)...I can't do this."

"Loki, yes, you can. We all believe in you."

"All?" he scoffed, all but tearing the suit from your hands. "Perhaps you should ask the world that I am about to fail in saving." He turned with a huff and a glare in his eyes, in an expression that would be burned into your soul, and one that you never wanted to see again.

"Can we talk about this when you get back?" you asked meekly, but you got no answer. All you would get was a heavy silence, and time alone to punish yourself before giving him the chance to help do it for you.

~~~

It's a trap.

Tony was the absolute master of self-hatred, as well as shitty Star Wars references; everyone knew that from day one of working with him. Most of the team had thought that the sentiment had lessened over time, and that as things began to look up for both the team and in his personal life, he might let some of that hatred go. But now, it was only being refueled as the seconds ticked by.

"They wanted us all out," he lamented to himself, sitting apart from the group in the back corner of the jet, "but why? Who?" He mindlessly chewed on his lip in both anxiety and anger, playing the scenario over and over in his mind until he was growing just a bit mad.

"We must fly faster," Loki urged, "(Y/N) is there alone. There is no one to protect her when we have all been drawn out. I told you that it was unwise for me to go with you. I could have been there to keep her safe."

"I'm going as fast as I can," Clint replied, "unless you have some fancy trick up your sleeve to change physics."

"If I had such a power, I would have made use of it by now, trust that." Loki wrung his hands together in a growing anxiety that was unfamiliar to him. Much of his relationship with you thus far had been unfamiliar, but it had been in a good way. This was definitely not good. This was a fear of losing you like he had never known; even family who had come into his life and gone again had never caused this kind of uncertainty and excruciating impatience. It made him question his feelings, because he had never put a label to them before; he had never felt them in this overpowering way.