Steel Meets Iron

Chapter 22

The tesseract was missing. Loki had stolen it.

The news made Tony sick. He had been woken up in the middle of the night when S.H.I.E.L.D. had confirmed that the tesseract was stolen and most likely in Loki's possession. He had to go to S.H.I.E.L.D. pronto without pause, suit and all. Everyone was being rounded up and he, feeling the very real threat on his family left without having the heart to wake Raven to tell her goodbye. It was turning into the Manhattan invasion all over again, the aliens, the buildings falling, pandemonium and he had so much more to lose now.

His anxiety was welcomed by similar jittery expressions from the other Avengers. No one had expected him to go the same route has he had gone before, Loki wasn't the guy to beat a dead horse, Tony knew that much. Loki was a schemer, he would go in circles, in circles to get a job done. This made no sense unless he was pulling even bigger guns now, which was what they all thought. It was the only option.

Tony had to think about it although he preferred to keep his mind on other things, like Raven. He wanted to think about her hanging upside down on the back of the couch or sitting in reverse when she bored. Her listening to one of the most depressing cello songs he ever heard like it was a love ballad, Pau Casals' El cant dels ocells. He regretted buying her the song but she had squealed like a mouse on helium he had no idea that the music was so damn depressing. Pau Casals apparently was a big deal and she would listen to solo concerts of him play Bach for hours without complaint, she would stare in awe like it was a movie and other times she drew while he played. He wanted to think about that and not Loki.

Little Raven who thought that Yo-Yo Ma was okay but loved Mischa Maisky. I don't like stiff cellists, she would say, it's hard to tell if they like what their playing or not. Maisky would say and openly show strain or a lost, serene expression while he played, Raven adored it she would gawk like she was at a lecture. Mentally taking notes. One day he sat through one of these concert DVDs, he nearly threw himself out the window but Raven had sat back against his legs acknowledging him and ignoring simultaneously. He itched for that mindless, nearly unimportant chat than this doomsday conference, weightless silence.

"Any leads?" Cap asked Fury and Thor. "Do we have any clue when and where he is going to strike?"

In the moment he was trying to separate himself from, Fury was grimmer than usual. Tense and still as stone as he stood before them back the undisturbed monitor that showed no signs of any catastrophic disturbance. They all stood around their round table riled and cocked.

"We don't know what he's planning," he announced. "We are certain that he is preparing to strike." He took a silent breath, "Just not where but we have all ears and eyes out for any indication of extraterrestrial activity."

"So," Tony groaned, "we're just waiting for a bomb to go off?"

"For lack of tact. Yes," said Fury.

"So it's Manhattan all over again?" Tony clenched his jaw.

Thor had his arms folded watching everyone with heavy eyes. He had hopes he could save his brother, that he could cure him of the poison that had plagued him. That he would learn his lesson and rewrite his wrong. They would be close again, as they once were. He had prayed that this would never occur, another assault on this realm, the realm he cherished so much. Loki had no cause to harm these people. He knew they were no match against his magic and an army but he attacked them anyway. If his brother was going to attack Midgard again he may have no choice but to end his brother this time, or let his comrades do so. Thor never wanted to or ever could kill Loki, his brother, his mother's son. She mourned his loss more than his father could, but if Loki was becoming a danger to the Nine Realms as a protector of Midgard he had no choice. His alternatives were lessening by the breath.