"Hey stranger." A familiar voice calls from behind and I turn to see Ethan with his playfulness all over the place.

I let out a sigh, happy to see him after all this stress I have been feeling.

The stress of getting nowhere with the research. The stress with Mr. Starks morning drinks that seem to get more and more out of control. And the stress of knowing that right this second, a villain lives in and wanders around the same halls that we do.

Only the avengers' levels, but still. Because this is where I happen to be most of the time now.

Well not all the levels. My card can only get me so far. Sometimes I wander in my breaks and get lost somewhere and try getting inside but find that there are restrictions to my card.

My encounter with Loki a few days ago was anything but soothing. But it wasn't what I imagined a meet with an intergalactic villain would be. But it left me shaking, nonetheless.

So, stress and overthinking don't begin to cover it.

"Hey Ethan!" I reach to hug him but stop midway not knowing if it's okay. We are friends, yes. But we haven't reached the point where I could just straight up hug him.

He raises his eyebrows, and opens his arms, seeing my hesitant stance, "You gonna get here or what?"

I grin and take him in a hug, "I missed you, my friend." I feel him more than hear him scoff, "still sticking with friends?"

"Yup." I pop the p sound. I am reluctant to let go of this beautiful friendly touch that I miss, but I do.

I am a bit shy when I meet his eyes, so I offer, "That was my first hug in the past two months. So… yeah."

His eyes soften but he grins playfully, and points to himself, "well, your gal here loves hugs. So come to me for those when you need them." I nod in appreciation.

I am never this relaxed and friend-ish with someone who I have known for almost two months. I take a lot of time to get myself to trust that I can be kinda myself with new people.

But with Ethan, it's different. Maybe it's because Ethan makes it so easy to be relaxed with his playfulness and charm. Or maybe I am so incredibly alone in this new city where no one knows me. Probably both.

So, I find myself asking, "Hey, uh do you know any good cafes around the compound? Sometimes I feel the walls physically close on me the longer I spend time here."

"Yeah. Just around the block." He leans against his lab door. Which reminds me that I came for some papers and head back to my lab.

"Send me the location and I will check it out."

"Or… I could just show you."

His suggesting tone makes me roll my eyes at his antics.

"Fine. Whatever." I get to my old bench and start opening the drawers, "anyways, I came to take some papers for the super sample, and I will be out of your hair."

His silence gets me to stand up and peer at him. He is frozen and his mouth open slightly in a shocked sigh.

"Ethan?"

"I... I forgot something. I should go."

"Sure yeah. See you later…" my words die with him out of the door before the end of my sentence.

Did I say something? Maybe he got offended by my response to him showing me the café.

Whatever it is, I need to be out of here with the papers. So, I do that and put his odd behavior at the back of my mind. For now.

———————————————————————————

Dragging my body through the break room's door, I collapse down on the seat by the bar and just put my head on the marble. I feel it's coolness seeping through my head and I let out a sigh that can be mistaken for a groan.

My only consolation is that no one is here to see my disgraceful slumpy self—

A slam makes me shoot straight in my seat and look frantically to see a man who has muscles for a body looking through the cupboards. Thor, looking through cupboards.

He turns when my chair makes a scraping noise, "Hello. Do you know where they keep the pop tarts? I swear to Odin it was here last time." He asks and I stare.

An alien. Looking for pop tarts.

"I uhh…" no other sound comes out of my mouth. But I manage to point at the intended cupboard.

He moves across me and finds the pop tarts behind said cupboard. He turns to me with a giant smile that just warms the place and says, "Thank you, lady…?"

I recover from my initial shock, "Right. Vivienne Audley." I offer my hand for a shake, but he takes it and lifts it to his mouth, leaving a feather like kiss on my knuckles, and says, "Thor Odinson, of Asgard."

My ears burn, "Nice to meet you." I breath the flustered words as he lets my hand fall from his.

"Likewise." His smile is warm and inviting. He is basically a human version of a golden retriever who spreads a warm and loving energy that you can't help but be affected by it.

He opens the pack, takes out a pop tart, and eats it in one go.

He offers me one and I can't say no to such expectant eyes.

As I eat the pop tart, he asks, "You were the lady from that day, right?"

He sees my confused expression and elaborates, "The day I and loki arrived."

I swallow, "Oh, yes."

"You are not a new avenger, right?"

"Nope. Just a normal person."

He looks at me for a second then asks, "Whatever is a normal person doing in the avengers' division of the compound?"

I debate again telling someone else. But he is thor for god's sake.

"Im a scientist here. I work with Dr. Banner and Mr. Stark."

"Work On what?" He questions more.

I explain to him the sample's story, and he doesn't look the bit phased, just mildly apprehensive.

"The problems on this realm never cease it seems."

A tired sigh leaves my mouth, "Tell me about it."

"Well, the thing banner talks about… uh… this hole in the sky that's dangerous and brings more heat. Also, just recently the ultron problem, I helped with that. And also—."

"Oh no no I didn't mean— I just— it's a phrase used as an ironic acknowledgment of being familiar with the situation."

He listens attentively, then nods. Smiling he says, "It seems even as I spend more time here, there is still many things to learn."

"How is it there, in space?" I find myself asking, suddenly more inquisitive than apprehensive.

He chuckles lightly, "it is not space. It is a realm. Asgard is one of the nine realms, much like Midgard," he then amends, "Earth, it is called Midgard in Aesir language," I nod.

He continues, "Asgard is a realm of beauty and grace. It is called the realm of gold for a reason. And the mannerisms of our people are a lot different from yours. But humans are very interesting as well."

"It seems there is a lot for us to learn too." I say as I take another pop tart.

"We will forever be learning, it seems."

We sit in silence for a few seconds, munching on our pop tarts, then a certain god who helps with vending machines pops up and so I feel comfortable to ask,

"How is Loki?"

Thor turns sharply with a surprised look on his face.

Then he clears his throat, "He… he is not happy to be here."

He continues, "He isn't getting along with anyone for obvious reasons. And he doesn't wish to partake in any trying. He is better in health, but I am afraid not in psych."

I bite my cheek, debating asking but doing so anyway, "Why did he do it?"

He sighs, "It's a bit complicated. But I don't have the full story," he then inspects me for a second then adds, "And I don't think he would appreciate me telling. It's his story to tell."

"I understand, of course."

But that doesn't put ease to my worries, so I muster the courage and ask after a minute.

"Thor, is he dangerous?"

"I would be deceiving you to say he is not. But he is kept under surveillance. And Stark's thing dampens his Seidr but that's not only where his strength lies. So, I would say he will always be dangerous, but he won't hurt anyone now."

I take in his words. Yes, it isn't much help. But he seems to be confident he wouldn't hurt anyone.

And I surprisingly somehow trust Thor to an extent to believe him.

I take another pop tart from his pack, he smiles, and I feel better about aliens.

———————————————————————————

Getting back to the lab after the strange but kind encounter with a pop tart eating alien, Mr. Stark greets me, "You do realize I pay you to basically be in the lab, right?"

Just as I am about to say that I was on a break, he waves his hand,

"Just kidding. We're done for today. Banner here needs his nap time, so he doesn't turn all green on us," at that, Dr. Banner smiles in a way that says 'don't worry. He is exaggerating.', "And God knows I need a drink before lunch to look Grease Ball in the face and not punch it."

I cringe internally. That's the third time this week that Mr. Stark mentions or does drink in the afternoon. And I don't think it's a coincidence that the drinking became often when a certain god came to live here.

But I bite my tongue. Because as much as I want to say something, it's not my place to do so. Nor are we on the level of familiarity to mention it.

I head to the elevator and swipe my card but as the elevator door closes, a hand stops it and enters the world-famous black widow.

With her head of fire and her intimidating presence.

After the day I met the avengers in the conference room, and then sneaking with Peter to watch the Loki's arrival, I made my extensive research on the avengers and their world after the invasion.

Safe to say, I was impressed the same amount I was intimidated.

They were the elite fighters that anyone could ask for. From Mr. Stark; aka iron man, to the superhuman soldier; Steve Rogers, and the great Hulk (I still fear startling Dr. Banner in any way), to the Asgardian alien who has literal thunder at the tips of his fingers, to Barton Clint; the assassin who not only fights with arrows impeccably, but also fought and brought to our side: the black widow.

Which brings me to this moment where it is very awkward standing beside Natasha Romanov and just admiring her in my head.

"How is the research going?" She asks as she turns to look at me. I feel a little exposed under her vision. Maybe it's because I know she makes grown men cry after being interrogated by her.

"It's cool." Cool? What, is she asking about the weather? I mentally slap the back of my head, "I meant it's going okay. We reached a very good part with the neurological side of it."

She hums, "How did you come to work here?"

"I applied for a spot."

"Bet you didn't know you would be working with the avengers."

"Oh, believe me that came as a surprise. Unwanted surprise at first."

She tilts her head to the side, "How so?" She asks inquisitively.

"Well for starters, you lot come with your dangers."

She snorts at that, "sorry not sorry" she says.

But then she becomes a bit interested, "what else?" She asks.

I let a sigh, "Well the fact that Loki is here certainly complicated things. But it's been some time since his arrival and everything is fine, so I guess worrying isn't warranted."

She stays silent for a few seconds, looking at me and that prompts my questioning, "Right?"

"Don't trust that now. And stay guarded. Loki may not be up to problems now, but he certainly hasn't had a change of heart over night."

I nod, absorbing her words and committing them to implement.

Then she puts a hand over my shoulder and squeezes as the elevator's door opens and says, "Just… stay careful, okay?"

"I will. Thank you."

She nods and steps out. I step out after a few floors but not after being rooted in place for a second or two.

Just as I was making my head about being safe in the tower, I reconsider it again after my talk with the assassin.

But things have been quiet. And no one knows that I already met the infamous villain, and it was… normal. Nothing I expected. I expected knives and eventual death. Mine, of course.

But no. He was fine. An asshole who wanted to belittle me but fine. And I have come to convince myself that that protein bar fell of its own accord. Definitely not magically.

Because that would mean he helped me. And pigs haven't started to fly for that to happen.

So, I settle on the vending machine taking petty on me. Even if a big part of me isn't convinced.

I couldn't contain my excitement when I heard about a library in the compound. So, since my day finished early, I had plans to go there.

Because anything was better than returning early to a silent apartment in a city where no one knows me.

And since that's one of the few places I can be in the tower, I head there.

The elevator opens and I turn left to see a huge door in front of me. I open it to find shelves over shelves of books.

And it's sorted by topics and specialties.

About everything!

I let out an excited squeak and turn around to take it all in but still mid turn when I see a couch in front of me and on that couch:

Loki.

He sits as if he owns the place, book in hand, wearing an amused expression that is meant for me.

His voice drips of amusement, eyes squinting in mirth, "No, no. Don't stop on my account. You were in the middle of squeaking like a squirrel who found some nuts. Please, do continue."

My cheeks flush, the heat of them cooling down by the cold temperature of the library. I avert my eyes from his mocking ones, try to walk naturally (whatever naturally is) and stand in front a shelf that I don't know what's it about.

I stay standing for a bit longer than I intended, mortified. Then I look up to see the banner saying, "Genitalia anatomy."

Oh god.

If I was mortified before, now I am full blown chagrined.

I hear a subtle chuckle from the couch, and I wish the floor would just break and swallow me whole.

Death by embarrassment in front of a god.

I should just go home. Loneliness is definitely better than getting swallowed in mortification.

But then I imagine my empty apartment. The hum of my air conditioner that keeps me awake at night with thoughts, every night. The silence that gets more deafening day after day.

I groan internally and start searching the aisles for a book that keeps me company as the day passes by until I should head back to my place.

As I pass the aisles, I realize that the library has only one huge lounge in the center of it.

My eyes dart around the place, searching for anywhere, anything that I can sit on and read but find nothing.

Muttering quietly to myself about how fate loves me, I take a book out and settle on the couch furthest from the god of lies.

I open my book but don't start reading. From behind my book, I peek an eye to inspect him.

What started as a precaution-based observing, turned into a full-blown examination. Of course, subtly behind my book that is left unread.

I push my glasses up to look clearly at him.

He sits on the couch, leg above the other. Holding a book that looks very worn out, in front of him. His eyes going over the pages quicker than what I would perceive as possible, (I am a quick reader myself) his lips every several minutes wording somethings out silently.

But then my eyes drift to his body.

Broad, lean but muscular if you look closely (I did). From his sprawled leg, and our first encounter, tall. His posture relaxed, unlike mine that is hunched forward and clutching the book in front of me like a safe barrier between him and I.

My eyes get back to his face and my breath hitches when I find his eyes on mine.

I avert my eyes quickly to my book where the words don't make sense but, of courses he doesn't just let it go.

"Done staring?"

I clinch my hand on the book once then relax and try to save whatever shred of dignity left since I set foot in this place, "I wasn't staring." I look back at my book, punctuating my words.

"No? Pray tell, what were you doing? Certainly not reading the book in your hands." He gestures to said book with his hand, his book neatly tucked in his other one.

I don't see an out of not replying so I say, "I was checking that you have no dangerous thoughts while I am here."

His face tightens, "Spoken like a true avenger." He mocks.

"I am not an avenger."

His grin makes me hold my breath, "I know."

Chills cover my body knowing he knows that I am completely, utterly normal, and I start panicking about if I can get away in any way.

What was I thinking, setting here with him as if he can't snap my neck in a heartbeat?

No, this was a stupid thing.

"Relax, you look like a frightened animal. I do not wish to hurt you, mortal." He spits the last words as if it's venom.

"Though your fear is quite the ego boost."

I am on the edge of my seat, ready to bolt out of here, eyes frantically trying to predict any sudden movement from him.

He lets out a frustrated breath, "I said it is fine. I am not going to hurt you."

"How can I believe you? You are the god of lies."

"While I enjoy your fear and terror, it has become bothersome. Your hyperventilation is annoying me."

"So, you're going to kill me because my breathing is annoying you?!" My high-pitched voice rings in my own ears.

He grimaces and then furrows his eyebrows, "Are you all mortals thick in the skull or are you just trying to get on my nerves?" He stands and I shrink instantly in my seat.

He then relaxes a bit, lets out a sigh, "I am trying to say I will not hurt you."

"Why?"

"Is it really that difficult to comprehend that I do not wish to harm you?"

"Yes."

He stares at me for a few seconds. My hands start fidgeting till he speaks again, "I find no reason nor a need to hurt you. It will not be beneficial to my situation. Quite the opposite. Are we clear now?"

His frustration seeps from every word, and I wonder whatever situation he is talking about.

I let out a breath, relaxing and putting down my legs that I haven't realized I brought up to my chest when he stood until now.

He then opens his palms and steps back to sit on the couch again. A peace offering.

Wetting his lips, he asks, "What are you reading?"

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you talking to me?"

"Why do you mortals insist on finding reasons for everything?" He snaps.

I cower again.

Clenching his jaw, he stands abruptly, "Forget it."

At that, he crosses the library in strong strides, and I jump when the door slams behind him.

“Are his biceps really that big or the camera does put on a few pounds?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose and pray to God for a miracle where the connection just cuts off. And my nostrils less clogged so I can sniff the deliciousness of my coffee on my way to the lab.

Two days went by quickly after coming to the decision to work on the sample. Uneventful days, that I started asking myself; what was I so afraid of; working here? Well, it was uneventful until I made the stupid mistake of mentioning to Annalise meeting the captain America.

“And his ass! Please tell me you got a good look at that!” Anna shrills on the phone.

Groaning, I say, “Anna, dear. I love you to death. But please. Please for god’s sake, do not start with your fan-girling—.” I am cut off by me throwing my head forward and sneezing so hard it could have easily woken up the dead.

“Girl, you have a nasty cold.” Anna jokes.

“Don’t I feel it.” I search in my bag until I get the tissues out and blow my nose.

“You sure you can be working like that? Won’t you contaminate stuff?”

“That’s why there are masks, Anna.” I pull the mask back on my face and open the lab’s door. “I must hang up now, darling.”

“Wait! I haven’t asked about his eyes yet—.”

“Bye!” I hang up at last. And take a deep breath. I open my eyes to see Mr. Stark’s amused expression. At me.

“Trouble in paradise?”

Frowning in confusion, I open my laptop when I hits me, “Oh. Oh no. That was my best friend, Annalise.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of. So, you’re into girls. Big deal.”

“That’s not what this—.”

“Relax. I’m just ruffling your feathers. You’re a bit uptight; I can see the signs of it all over your face.” He motions to my face, and I touch it absentmindedly. I know some wrinkles started to show but getting that pointed out never felt better.

“Come see this.” He beckons me with his hand.

Standing beside him, I observe, “You see this?” He points at something that looks like… “It looks like a neuron.”

“It is a neuron. Can you see the signals between this neuron and the other one when I do this?” He taps something on the hologram, but nothing happens.

I try to look closer but no, nothing happens.

“You don’t see it, right? Why do you think?” He asks expectantly and I look back at the hologram. I tap what he tapped before, and nothing happens again.

But something does happen. We just can’t see it.

“It happens faster than we can perceive.” I look back at the hologram astonishingly.

“Exactly. You know where the fun is? This program is supposed to slow down the signals for us to see,” he turns to me, “this is a slowed signal, and we can’t even see it happen.”

“Wow” I look back at the hologram and tap again. Nothing happens again. But this time, I’m happy that it doesn’t.

I step away from the hologram and look at the other screen, “This is the sample?”

“Yeah. Amazing stuff, isn’t it?” But my head is already running a hundred miles. I don’t know how I didn’t get this before.

I run to the other side of the lab and open my notes. I run through my notes until I find it.

Yes, here!

“Mr. Stark!” I run back to him, and some papers fall because of it. But it doesn’t matter.

“Look at this. Look!” He comes beside ma and takes the paper from my hand and skims it before looking back at me, “What exactly am I looking at?”

“Wha— you can’t see it? Here,” I point at one diagram, “is the Myelin sheath in a normal cell.” I point at the corresponding diagram, “And here it is in the sample.” I look at him expectantly, but he shows no signs of recognition.

I groan, “How can’t you see it? It’s thicker in the abnormal cell. That is what’s making the neural signals nonexistent!”

He looks a bit harder, his eyes widening, “So that’s how! Okay okay I hear you. You’re pretty smart, you know. For your uh… age.”

That was a compliment if I ever heard one. I beam at it, surprisingly not taking the age comment in a negative way and thank him. “So, when can we start?” I ask him.

He takes a second then replies slowly, “Start what, exactly?”

“The cure for neurodegenerative diseases, obviously.” I say in a “duh” note. But he puts his hands in front of him as if telling an animal to slow down, “woah, hold your horses dr. House. There is still a lot of research before that step. And I’m concerned where this came from in the first place.”

I deflate, “But… what does it matter if we help people? Only this part of information about this sample will help millions of people. I can’t even begin to think how it will help when we get to it all.”

“I know, doctor. And I’m not saying no. I’m just saying we slow down. I can’t have another Sokovia on my conscious. You’ll keep at it and see what you find out and move from there. Yeah?”

That’s not good enough. “But—.”

“Mr. Stark?”

A man—more on the boy side— pops his head into the lab and looks expectantly at Mr. Stark. Brown hair and young, hopeful eyes.

“Im sorry… did I interrupt something?” The guy looked from me to Mr. Stark.

“Nope. We good, yeah?” He addresses me. But we are not good. I want to know that whatever we are doing here is for a worthy cause. The right one.

But I nod reluctantly, and he claps his hands together and heads for the door, “Great. Keep at it and close behind you, will ya?” He doesn’t wait for my response when he gets out and clasps a hand over the guy’s shoulder. And he looks at him with an expression that revolts my memory.

That was the boy from the photograph.

They go the other way out of my sight, and I am left alone in the lab.

The machines hum, the vents hiss and I slump back into my seat.

With dr. Banner in a conference somewhere in the world, today is going to be a long day.

I count to five and stand to work.

Locking the door behind me, I head to the elevator, but some shouting stops me midway.

I should keep going. I should really go back home, settle in bed, read my romance novel till I can no longer digest the cliches and sleep.

But an unfamiliar, bellow voice shouts too and I can’t contain my curiosity to see who it is.

So that’s why I head there but stop in my tracks when I see the boy from earlier standing behind the door and leaning in as if… eavesdropping.

He spots me and puts a finger to his mouth to stay quiet, beckoning me to come stand with him.

“What’s happening?” I whisper to the brown-haired boy, he looks about 17 or 18 years old. It makes me wonder what a kid would be doing in a compound that harbours world saving heroes.

“Thor’s back,” he whispers back and looks at someone who stands in-front of Steve rogers.

“Can we be here?” I ask. Im not above eavesdropping —though I don’t know what that says about me— but if its gonna cost me my job? I may reconsider.

“No. That’s why we are out here and not in there.”

“Right.”

“Im peter.” He offers with a smile.

“Im Vivienne. What—,”

“Is this truly necessary, Stark?” The bellowing voice I heard in the hallway asks, but it’s a bit quieter now.

“For my entertainment? Yes.” I stand on my tip toes to see who he is talking to and see a blond head of hair and another black.

I sign to peter to go on to the other side so we can see what’s happening.

He nods and moves with me to the other side.

Once we stand there, everything makes sense.

A man with long blond hair stands beside the man who caused the destruction of lots of people’s lives, with some kind of muzzle on his mouth and cuffs on his hands. Safe to say the dark haired is not in the mood for Mr. Stark’s sense of humour. Because if looks could kill, Tony stark would be a pile of ash on the ground now.

But other than that—and his very peculiar fashion—, he looks exhausted.

Like dark circles, more bone prominent than muscle, exhausted.

It makes you wonder where he was all these years after the invasion.

And what the hell was being done to him there.

“Tony.” The captain chides.

“Yes, Cap? Taking someone’s else’s side over me again? Can’t say I’m surprised.” He may be talking in a light tone, but the silence that follows his words says it was anything but light.

The blond man breaks the tense silence.

“We talked about this, Stark. You said you were on board with the All-father’s request. And may I remind you what you get in exchange?”

Mr. Stark crosses his arms and leans on the table, “Yeah, doesn’t mean I’m playing nice with the grease ball.” At that, the dark haired’s head snaps to throw the most chilling look towards the billionaire.

Cap sighs, “Wanda, remove the muzzle.”

The redheaded, Wanda, gestures with her hand, a red glow surrounding it, and just like that the muzzle clicks and falls.

The dark-haired rubs his jaw then stands taller, scrutinising the room with an unreadable expression then settling on indifference.

“What about the cuffs? Is he to live shackled like this?” Who I have understood is Thor, questions.

The cuffs really did look uncomfortable, but if they were, Loki showed no discomfort and no reaction to Thor’s question.

Whenever I feel a flare of empathy rise within me, the faces of the children and destroyed homes flash in my mind and I can't help but feel rage drowning the sympathy.

“Don’t worry your fancy behind. The cuffs will be exchanged for a bracelet that matches his royal ass and his magic capabil—-.” Mr. Starks words get interrupted by a sneeze.

My sneeze.

I freeze, looking at peter to see his wide eyes. I will my eyes to look at the people we were eavesdropping on, to see them frozen and Mr. Stark looking baffled but recovering to put his hands on his hips and looking from peter to me.

My eyes widen in apology like a kid caught stealing from the cookie jar.

I thought my days of reprimands by a parent figure were over.

Before we could justify our presence by some nonsense, Loki speaks up, condescension dripping from his voice, “You recruit children now? That desperate?” He looks at me and Peter so I can’t know is he calling me a child or it’s purely Peter.

Call it an insecurity of mine, but I hate when people treat me as a child when I’m more mature than most adults I know. Cocky? Maybe. Untrue? Sadly, no.

Tony stark looks at the sky as if he’s had enough of his children’s antics.

It’s very weird seeing him like that. Caring so much to be exasperated. But I know it’s not for me. It’s for the boy next to me. I can see it in how the corners around his eyes soften when they land on Peter.

These two have a special connection and yet Peter haven’t called him anything other than Mr. Stark.

The billionaire sighs, “Peter, both of you get away for at least a 10-meter radius from the bad guy till we sort this mess out.”

Peter groans quietly, “But Mr. Stark—.” He is interrupted by a meaningful look from the billionaire that shuts him up.

Peter sighs and looks back at me. I offer a minute dejected smile before following him to leave.

“And no more eavesdropping in the hallways!” Mr, stark calls behind us and I look at Peter amused. But he looks deep in thought.

We slow to a stop not so far away from where we were.

I look at him questioningly. But he stays silent.

“What?” I ventured.

“It’s just… He is really going to live here.”

“Loki?”

“I mean, I don’t live here, so I’m not worried he will stab me in my sleep, but…” he trails off as he bites his lip nervously.

 I feel the urge to comfort the young man. Because I know what he wants to say.

Conjuring a comforting smile as much as I can, I say, “They’re gonna be fine. Don’t forget they took him down once. Nothing says they can’t do it again if they need to.” I’m comforting myself as well as him. I want to ask how he knows them or what he is doing here, but his lost in thought expression halts me.

Obviously, he doesn’t mind asking me, “Are you a new avenger?”

“God, no. I couldn’t punch a punching bag if my life depended on it,” we start moving again, “I’m a scientist. I work with dr. Banner.”

His eyes widen in surprise, “Wow. You have some good nerves then. I’m always afraid of making a sudden move when he’s around. Because of you know what.”

“He is got it under control… I think” I muse, “What about you? Are you on a field trip or…” I lean into him and whisper dramatically, “Are you secretly the spawn of an avenger and will eventually walk in their path?”

“Ok that was weird. But no. I’m Spider-Man.” He says it so matter of fact that I can’t help but repeat it.

“Spider man.”

“Yeah, you know. Friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man. Helping those in need.”

I still am not convinced, “but you’re…”

“Young?” He offers, “Yeah, well radioactive spiders don’t seem to mind before biting you.” He presses the button to the first floor in the elevator, “Besides, I’m sixteen. So, I’m not that young.”

I raise my eyebrows at that, no hesitation in letting him know he is bullshiting. He makes a show of not seeing my expression and changes the subject, “What are you working on with dr. Banner?”

Should I tell him? He is part of the avengers it seems. Though I really need to understand how they would let a minor in that much dangerous situations, spider powers or not.

 But I guess if they trust him enough for that, I can tell him as well.

“It’s a superhuman sample. We don’t know where it came from. It’s different from the original superhuman serum.”

 He looks deep in thought, “That means its knowledge and usage are different as well.”

God I’ve been dying to tell someone who may understand.

“Exactly! That’s why I’m working with dr. Banner. To utilise this new knowledge into helping as much people as possible.” We step out of the elevator and head for the door.

He nods, “That is a noble cause. I hope you get what you need from it.” I smile as I walk through the doors and say, “I’m heading home. It was a pleasure, spider boy. “

“Spider-Man.” He corrects as I expected him to. Grinning, I wave a bye but not before saying, “And Peter? I never told you anything, ok?”

He makes a show of zipping his lips, “Lips sealed.”

“You told Peter?! You told a teenager who eats cereal for breakfast and says I love you after passing a stranger on the street?”  Mr stark’s high-pitched tone makes me grimace.

When Mr. Stark left me a message with the receptionist, I never thought it would be about this.

One day. I told him freaking yesterday. How is he that fast?

“Mr. Stark I didn’t mean to— wait. What’s wrong with cereal?”

“It’s not adult breakfast.” He shrugs

“What’s adult breakfast?”

“Whiskey.” He raises the glass in his hand.

Oookay. “I thought it’s fine saying this to an avenger, so I just mentioned it.”

He stays silent for a bit.

My eyes narrow, “He is an avenger, right?”

“Well…”

Oh.

I feel so, so stupid. Anyone who claims to be an avenger and I’m spilling my secrets like an idiot.

“So, he isn’t really spider man? That’s not a thing?” I knew I should have told him to show me a move or two. How stupid.

“No, he is. He just isn’t an avenger. Not yet.”

“Oh… okay. Yeah. Kid and all.”

“I need to know that you won’t mention this to anyone, doc.” He puts down his glass, “Not again, anyway.”

“I won’t.” I promise him. “But if I may ask…, how did you know?”

 He smirks, amusement in his voice, “He couldn’t shut up about how cool it is that there is another superhuman serum.”

Im killing him next time I see him. I smile but its forced, “I see.”

“Lose the serial killer smile. He was excited. That’s why we don’t tell him things.” He turns to the door and says, “Now, lets get to work.”

Im killing Peter anyway.

Another week passes, and all is relatively well.

I am gaining Mr. Starks trust. Dr. Banners praise. And I feel like actually doing something with my life for the first time in forever.

I think I am happy.

 No. Not happy. Relieved? Like I can tell myself i am worth it in the mirror and believe it a little. Yes, Relieved. But not happy. Which is fine. Happiness is overrated anyway. Who wants to look at the sky and feel so utterly grateful and happy and feel like the world wanted them just as they want the world? See, Overrated.

So, today I declare a good day. No intrusive thoughts. No idiots running wrong samples. Nothing.

Today is a good day.

Of course, if this vending machine and I make a truce to work together.

“Im sorry I called you stupid. I didn’t mean it! I was just hangry. And it was a long day.” I reason with the vending machine.

The vending machine keeps buzzing, showing no signs of complying.

“Look, just a protein bar and I promise I won’t kick you again.” Today, I left unsaid. As if it freaking understands me.

“It didn’t come to my knowledge that Midgardian machines are advanced to talk. And being antagonistic with its users as well.”

An unladylike squeak leaves my throat, jumping to turn to the intruding voice.

And then I still, frozen as if I have seen a ghost.

 No, this is worse.

Loki, the former -and unsuccessful- invader of earth and an enemy to the avengers, if not the world, stands wearing a a freaking cape and a smirk that just begs for a smack.

I can see why its easy to not like the guy. He emits smugness from every inch of his body.

He speaks again, “You have no sense of your surroundings. I have been here for a while now.”

Okay. Creepy. The goosebumps raise but I don’t say a word. I just watch him carefully, trying to decide what I can do if this goes south.

Whats the protocol for an encounter with a literal villain god who wears caps and lurks watching young women have a fight with a vending machine over a protein bar?

He tries again, “I thought the avengers were persuasive. Couldn’t get the machine to fold for your will.” He tsks, and I still look like a deer caught in the middle of the road, although some frustration starts creeping at me.

Why is he here? Why is he talking to me? Is he trying to intimidate me? Insult me?  

 I grind my teeth, and his smirk widens in response.

“Whatever will you do with real threats and villains?” Seeing his mirth, I can't help but answer him this time.

“Villains like you?”

His eyes twinkle but his lips are tight, as if me not speaking actually bothered him. “Ah… so it does speak.”

“And it leaves too.” I make a move to go but he moves with me.

I take a step back and try to move around him, but he moves again in front of me. I look up at him, the inches between us plain with this little proximity.

He inspects my face. Eyes, nose, cheeks, lips. Then his eyes fall on mine again, “You’re young for an avenger.” He declares and I cringe internally.

 My age was always a sore spot. But he is right either way because im not an avenger.

I try to leave again but this time he lets me. As I make a step towards the lab's door, the vending machine makes a sound and drops the protein bar I wanted.

Word count: 2898 words.

Voices clashed over each other, sharp and ready to fight.

“Thor said what?!”

“Loki? The egomaniac who mind-controlled me?”

“How, tony? Why?”

“The guy who started this mess?”

The only ones who where quiet and didn’t say a word were: captain America, the girl wearing a scarlet jacket, the robot, Bucky and of course, moi.

I just stayed a witness to the chaos unraveling in front of me, trying to piece information together to understand why it was such a huge thing.

“Should we prepare to take him down, tony?” Captain America speaks for the first time since this show started.

 He is calm. Calculated. He holds the room when he speaks. The team quietens down, waiting for Mr. Stark to answer him.

“Thanks to his father, we won’t have to.”  He leans on the table and takes out a bag of… peanuts? He tosses one in his mouth before continuing, “Odin’s idea, not mine.”

“What does that even mean?” The arrow man questions, getting agitated by the second.

“It means that magic daddy wants us to take in and raise his son for him.”

Steve Rogers sighs, “Tony...”

“What? It's basically what this is.” He tosses another peanut in his mouth and offers the bag to Dr. Banner.

“Start from the beginning.”

“Thor says there is this fortune teller who is all about how Loki is going to be the downfall of Asgard and all that. So, he is dumping his problems on us. Maniac problems.”

“And you said what? ‘Sure, give us your cosmic trash to save your ass and doom ours’?” The chair scraps loudly as the arrow man stands abruptly.

“Of course not, Hawkeye. I negotiated it like the genius I am. We get the high-tech knowledge from Asgard in exchange for taking Ballerina in.”

Dr banner swallows the peanuts and asks, “But why?”

“Because he is a threat there. As Point Break said, Loki isn’t the cause of the destruction, but a catalyst. So they want him away from there and who better to keep him in line than the almighty avengers?”

The black man clears his throat, “Why not just…. You know.” He motions to his throat and…

“Oh my god! Kill him?!”

What sounded like my voice screeched.

Obviously, they have forgotten about my existence until I opened my mouth, because their reactions are not something you wanna be at the end of.

“Why is she here, Tony?” Captain America doesn’t even glance my way as he asks.

But the thing is, I started questioning the same thing.

“She is going to work with me on finding the all-time cure.”

Captain America looks at him for a beat.

“Why is she here now? With us, talking about Loki?”

“She needs to know about it for her safety. Being close by and all that.” Wait, what? Close by?

Furrowing my eyebrows, I look at Mr. Stark but he is still looking at captain America. I look at them both but they pay me no attention. I’m seriously starting to think they are having a conversation telepathically.

Then Captain America nods, followed by Mr. Starks nod and that’s that.

“I’m sorry…. I don’t understand. Close by?” This could be either the best thing or the worst thing. So, I hold on with the reaction to after I get an idea of what’s going on. Although that doesn’t stop my heartbeat to start racing a bit.

“We will talk about that later, doc.” This is not good. This is not good at all. I try keeping my racing heart to a normal rate but it gets harder by the second. But I focus on the room full of heroes.

He clasps his hands together and turns to the team, “There are some… requests from Odin. Or the queen. Loki will not be contained in a cell.”

Okay. The room erupting in chaos minutes ago? Yeah, that was nothing compared to now.

“Aren’t we the dream team?” Mr. Stark leans on the chair and tosses another peanut in his mouth as the team shouts at him with no care in the world.

As much as his chill drives people nuts, he is amazing.

One particular voice sound from the shouts. Hawkeye. The one, it seems, hitting the most. “What do you expect us to do? Playhouse with the monster?” I flinch.

Calling someone a monster meant too much in my book. Which means that this is bad. He is bad.

Dread sinks in as the demeanor of arrow guy grows more hostile by the minute.

“Clint.” The redheaded woman next to him sighed.

“What, Nat? How are you okay with this?”

Nat crosses her arms, “I’m not okay with this. But I don’t go about calling people monsters when they kill people. Speaking from experience and all.” Her lips press together as she looks at him intently.

“That’s not—. You’re not—. It’s not the same.” He looks at her desperately.

She raises her eyebrows, “How is it not?”

He stumbles over his words until he throws his hands in the air, “Fine! You want to host the bastard here, then be my guest. But don’t expect me to play nice.”

“Okay. Now that… this is out of the way; there are some things we need to iron out. Firstly, some of his magic will be restricted, so I’m not a complete idiot to let him move around like that, Clint.” Mr. Stark grants Clint a pointed look.

“Secondly, he can’t be left alone in the compound. That means that someone needs to stay behind when we have missions”

I look around as collective groans sound from the heroes. I definitely would hate to be that guy.

But Mr. Stark saying magic showed how little I knew about him and how I misconstrued my presence with the avengers and their dangers.

What was I getting myself into?

Suddenly, my excitement began to wane. All the possibilities came rushing to my mind. What if I die? Was this arrangement really worth it? And what does it even mean that I will be close by? Mr. Stark seemed to say that I am staying. Which was…great before all the Loki talk. Now? I feel out of my depth here.

Mr. Starks voice suddenly becomes coherent and pulls me out from my mental spiral.

“…and that’s about it. Any unnecessary questions? No? Great.”

The team started to dissipate after that, but I stood still. I really wanted to help people. Heck, that’s why I even got into the medical and scientific field. But… could getting to help people get me to be in danger?

“Come to the office in ten, will ya?” Mr. Stark tells me on his way out and my heart drops. He mentioned that he was going to tell me what’s going on, but I still had this nagging feeling that I will be let go and not work on the research.

What is wrong with you? I thought to myself, just now you were saying how out of it you were and questioning everything. But now you are afraid to leave?

I nod to Mr. Stark, though I doubt he was waiting for my answer, and plaster a forced professional smile when I get out of the meeting room and head for the coffee machine in the corner.

Sipping the coffee, I let its warmth comfort me as I looked around at the remaining members of the team who stayed behind.

The girl in the scarlet leather jacket and the robot/human.

They seemed engrossed in their conversation, but their body language was anything but.

The girl touches his cheek affectionately as she smiles up at him while talking and he smiles back. Then she stands on her toes and plants a kiss on his mouth.

I look away, feeling as if I was invading their privacy somehow. When I look back, I find the girl walking away and the robot looking at me.

My eyes widen a fraction. I look away awkwardly. But in my peripheral vision I notice him come closer till he is standing across from me and I have to look at him.

“Um… Hi.” Unease filled me as he inspected me before saying, “Hello, Dr. Audley. My name is Vision.” He offers his hand, and I shake it. We stand awkwardly for a few seconds (I am the one who is awkward).

“I am a synthezoid.” He says casually.

“I’m sorry?”

“I understand you are having trouble getting what I am from you body language and your facial expressions. Which is normal. I’m a specific type of android created entirely out of synthetic, organic like materials.”

 “I… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to—.”

“Except of course,” he taps the glowing yellow stone in his forehead, “for the mind stone. Which is a cosmic stone.”

I don’t know what to say to that. So, I just nod. But he stays silent for a few seconds then speaks again, “It’s time for your meeting.”

I look at my phone and he is right. Exactly ten minutes have passed since the end of the team meeting.

“Um… thank you… Vision.”

He inclines his head. I wave a bye awkwardly and head for Mr. Stark’s office.

I knock two knocks, “Mr. Stark?” I open the door slightly, but the office is empty.

I open it all the way and take one step inside but stop myself. What am I doing? Should I be in here when he is not? But he is the one who said to be here ten minutes ago.

I take several steps in the the billionaire’s space, just taking everything in.

His desk was a mess with sheets and papers everywhere and some seem about to fall to the floor. He has some glasses too and a nearly empty bottle of whisky. But what catches my eyes is the two photos there.

I pick up the first one.

It is of a blonde woman smiling an exhausted smile as she looked at Mr. Stark in the picture. He looked at here with mirth but the photo captures successfully his affectionate feelings towards her. I put the photo down and pick the other one.

 It is Mr. Stark and a boy holding a certificate. The boy looked ecstatic. And Mr. Stark looked bored but if you looked close enough, he was proud.

I wonder if this is his son. Last I knew, Tony Stark didn’t have any children. Well, any children the public knew of.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

I screech, startled that I let the picture fall from my hand to the desk, thankfully.

“I... I didn’t mean… you said ten minutes, but you weren’t… I’m so sorry.” I conclude after the stream of incoherent words.

Mr. Stark looks at me for a few seconds. I’m getting antsy under his stare until, “It’s fine. Have a seat.” I let out my breath. And take a seat fast.

He stands behind his desk and I watch him pour himself a drink. In the middle of the day. But who am I to judge, right?

“Wanna a drink?”

“Uh… No, thank you.”

He hums. And then starts,

“Okay. So, let’s start this by saying that nothing that happens in this compound will be said to anyone outside it. Especially the sample and the Loki part. I’ve got enough on my plate without people coming for us when they find out he is here.” He stays silent for a few seconds, and I realise he is waiting for my confirmation.

“Oh. Um. Yes of course.”

“Good. Now the thing about the sample is you seem to know your head from your toes and that’s saying something about the people in this place.”

“Uhh…thank you?”

“That means you will work with banner and me on it. And occasionally, Vision. He is like a moving Wikipedia, so he helps around.” He takes another sip, and I sink in my chair. How can I convey to him my anxious thoughts without looking like a weak girl who couldn’t stand some risks and dangers. I have my family to think of. Even if they don’t understand me and see my efforts, they care of course. I’m sure they do. They would like me to stay alive at least. Yeah.

“Mr. Stark? Um…is there… will be there…,” spit it out already! “Would there be significant consequences if I work with you?”

He raises his eyebrow as if he doesn’t get me. I let out a frustrated breath and with it the words I felt ashamed to utter, “Am I in danger if I work here? Is there a possibility that I could…die?” I looked away as I awaited his words or his jab at how un hero like I was. How I was unfit for this place or my work.

But I look back at him to see his eyes have softened a bit and he leans on the desk and say, “Listen, kid. There is no shame of fearing a little danger. If anything, it makes you smarter. And you’re right. There is some danger in working with the avengers. Now even more with Loki. So, I would understand if you don’t want to work on this. I will get you transferred back to your department.”

I frown as I bite my cheek. Would this be the responsible thing to do? I mean they always taught us that before helping someone, check that you would be safe too. But does this apply here? Would I really help if I stay and work on the research. It has a lot of potential, true. But would my input matter?

“Hey.” I look up to see Mr. Stark putting his glass down and straightening his posture, “Why don’t you sleep on it? Measure things out in the morning. You don’t have to decide now.”

I stand up, nodding at him. “Yeah, if it’s okay. Thank you.”

Throwing my keys on the table, I kick my shoes and head straight for the bathroom.

I gotta get used to this kind of stressful days if I’m going to stay working in close proximity to the avengers.

 I got into the shower and sighed as the hot water touched my skin. I took these ten minutes of cleansing as a little getaway from my mind and all my thoughts about today.

Getting out and already dressed, I made the herbal tea to soothe, opened my laptop and sat in bed to start searching. I knew the invasion. I knew that aliens came and rained havoc on New York.

But I deliberately chose to avoid any details at the time. I avoided anything that would set me back in my mental health at that time when I was back home.

But now, I needed to know what I was getting myself into.

What should I write? The avengers? No that won’t get me the answers I want. The invasion?

I found myself typing without thinking, Loki.

Huh.

Norse mythology god. Mischief and lies. Silver-tongue.

But it wasn’t what I was looking for.

Rewriting my search; Loki, invasion of New York.

Two seconds and then—.

Oh god.

Destruction. Death. Murderers. Children and women and men alike.

How was I not aware of all of this?!

I understood now why the team reacted this way.

Every picture and video I saw turned my insides more and more.

Germany.

Loki about to hit an elder man.

The avengers stepping in.

Opening a fucking huge black hole in the middle of the sky.

Tony Stark falling down.

Aliens. I knew Aliens were associated with the destruction of New York. But I didn’t know the extent of the damage. Damage to people’s lives.

What was I thinking, throwing myself into this mess? I had to go to Mr. Stark and apologise. This Bucky was right. This work is not cut out for a civilian. What would my family feel if I ended up dead? And for what? Glory because I made a cure. For all I knew, I won’t help as much as I think I would. I’m sure I have been exaggerating my knowledge and capabilities. They would do just fine without me. Maybe even better.

Having made my decision, I went to turn off the laptop but not before I accidentally clicked on another video.

My god.

My vision started getting blurry with unshed tears as I watched the video. So many buildings reduced to dust.

Screams for help. Children trying to hold their parents with whatever strength they have in their little bodies. Mothers wailing for their dead children. Screams of pain everywhere. Everywhere.

And no one helped. No one. Families lost. Friends taken away. Children not getting to know their lives. Lost. And for what? Why? What did this Loki want from this destruction? What did he get? The tears subsided, getting replaced with hot boiling blood.

No, I told myself. What does it make me if I choose not to use my knowledge? It would make me like him. No…I will not choose to hurt the people indirectly by refusing to utilise my privileged knowledge.

Because this; trying goddamn hard to save humanity, will be my retaliation to the likes of him.