Mischief on Midgard

Why we wouldn't kneel

It really was a miserable sight, seeing half of the Avengers lying out in a line on the floor of the quinjet. Clint and Loki had managed to get the others on board while Tony had managed to get Bruce's limp form onboard. Bruce had been gently set down by Natasha and Loki had looked him over. Bruce was not wounded, but, as he had previously explained, that was to be expected. He had accelerated healing.

Still, that wasn't their main concern just then.

They were flying above the area where Hulk had lost control and gone on a rampage. It was... not good. Several buildings had been destroyed, multiple roads had been torn up, and Tony? Tony looked a little worse for wear. He had slipped out of his armor and was nursing a black eye and a nasty looking bruise on his shoulder. Beyond that...? Yeah, he looked like he'd had a run-in with a freight train.

The first one of the fallen to stir was Thor. It looked like his Asgardian blood was good for something. The blonde sat up slowly, holding his head in pain.

"What in the All Fathers' glory...?" he started to say with a groan. He looked around through bleary eyes, and his expression fell as the reality of the situation dawned on him. "What... what happened?"

"Can we wait to explain until the others wake up?" Loki asked in a weary voice. "I am far too tired to try and explain this four different times."

Thor rubbed at his head, staying silent for a moment before he looked Loki's way. Loki was turned away from him, shoulders slumped. He really did look exhausted, even without seeing his face.

"You doing alright?" Clint asked as the silence looked like it would loom on.

"Aye, Friend Clint. I will be fine," Thor said with a groan. "I merely feel as if I spent the night drinking Dwarven mead... and then had someone hit me upside the head with my own hammer... Ah... speaking of, where is...?"

"Do you really think that any of us could have lifted the blasted thing?" Loki snapped in a weak tone, rubbing at his own face.

"Ah... yes, quite... Let me just...?" Clint waved him over to the hatch, and Thor took the time to summon Mjolnir back to his hand before going to sit back down.

It wasn't long after that before Steve started to stir and sit up. Natasha followed suit, cursing first in Russian, then German and then a few other languages much to Clint's amusement. He bantered with her a few moments only to have her semi-playfully toss the jacket that had acted as her pillow at his head. Bruce finally let out a groan and Tony stepped away from the pilots' seat to kneel next to his 'science-bro.'

"Heya Bruce," Tony started keeping his voice soft. "You doing... okay?"

"Ah... Tony?" Bruce's head lolled in Tony's direction, his eyes groggy and out of focus. "I thought... I had the worst dream... The Hulk was...smashing... up..."

Bruce jerked up into a sitting position and almost fell back over. Tony steadied him eave as Bruce started shaking his head and holding out his fingers towards Tony's bruised eye.

"Tony.,. your face!" Bruce said with an audible gulp. "Oh, no. No, no, no... please don't tell me... please!"

Tony closed his eyes and leaned back, shaking his head sadly. A look of pure terror passed over Bruce's face. He slowly put the pieces together. The dream, Tony's injuries, and expression. Bruce's own expression twisted from one of terror to one of confusion and sadness. He shook his head desperately and placed his head in his hands with a despairing wail of noise.

"No! NOO!" he screamed in frustration. "This wasn't supposed to happen again! Not again! Dammit!"

"Bruce..." Natasha said in a soft voice, moving to stand.