10.  When will you stop bullshitting?

When Tony finished calling and messaging for help, he sighed and looked around. The apartment was so quiet, it felt almost dead.

Bruce was sitting on his usual place on the kitchen counter, back towards the others, reading old newspapers while his coffee went cold again. Only the regular tapping of his foot betrayed his emotions. Tony straightened, dragging his stiff leg off the couch and onto the floor, feeling electric pain shoot across the nerves. At least, I can still feel it, he told himself with a grim smile.

Beside him, Loki sat as far as was physically possible on the couch. His head laid back, eyes closed, he could have been asleep. Except Tony knew he wasn't. He watched the subtle lines appear on his forehead every now and then and wondered what nightmares revisited him.

His own, Tony knew very well. They were like best friends now, without any of the friendship. Nightmares. He shuddered and got up, telling himself firmly that everyone had their own, they weren't unique to him.

He had been postponing something since the two agents had left. It was something highly tough and also very, very unlike him. He could feel the anxiety at the back of his tongue, bitter and inexplicable.

He dragged himself to the bedroom door and knocked once, twice. Without waiting for an answer, he walked in and found Naz, on one side of the bed, sitting on the floor, back resting against the bed, staring with unfocused eyes.

"Hey," he said quietly, hopping towards her and finally tumbling to the floor beside her.

"Hey," she said, her face looked flushed, feverish even but her eyes were the same calming ones that could draw out the most calming waves across the most rocky beaches.

"Praying?"

"You could say that," she said, looking away, towards the sky that spilled in through the window.

"Can I interrupt?"

She shrugged.

"I am a jerk who doesn't deserve a friend like you." He looked at her, desperately. "Say something."

She smiled slightly even though the worried lines never left her face, "What? It's true."

He laughed, "You're mean. You're supposed to forgive me now, you know?"

"Tony, please don't pull off the kind of shit you did in the morning. I try my best to be tough, you know? Like duh, you're all heroes with powers but that doesn't mean that I can just sit back and enjoy the show. You're my friend and so is Nat, so is Steve, and let me tell you, while you all go out there and put your lives on the line, it feels like someone is cutting off my air supply, as if I'm dying slowly, so no, I can't not worry about you all. I worry today and I will tomorrow. The day I stop to worry about you all will be the day I'll be dead. It's that simple."

They watched the window together.

"I..." Tony gulped, "didn't know it was like that for you."

She shrugged, "I believe in you all. I know you guys will win no matter what. I know I worry pointlessly at times. Like right now, I know Nat will come back. I know she will. She's capable and strong enough but I can't not worry, you see? I can't not. It's scary to be as helpless as I feel in such a situation."

Tony extended his arm around her shoulders, "Kiddo, I told you, I don't deserve a friend like you but I am happy I have you."

The room spun wildly as her vision blurred; unknown scenes alternating between the sight of her bedroom. A second she was in her bedroom, another she was in a strange place watching Tony and Steve fighting horribly. Someone else was there too, a man with a metal arm. Bucky Barnes, she realized almost in the same tone as Steve used to say his name. She closed her eyes tightly, pushing the vision down, beyond her reach. She reached for Tony's voice and the tangibility of her bedroom.

When she opened her eyes again, she was back, the vision gone so swiftly she had trouble remembering it. However, she also felt okay. Completely in control. A hallucination, that's what it is. Fatigue and worry are playing tricks on you. You're fine. You're okay. She almost believed it as she sat stiff focusing on Tony's low voice. Spiralling into insanity, her eyes blinked.

"For a long time, I was pretty alone. It was a life that felt more like floating through space sometimes. Then I met someone who cared but...it didn't last very long and I was alone again. I can't bear the idea of someone who cares for me because it is so unfamiliar to how I am. I don't want to bear the possibility that someone somewhere is worrying over me because that would mean that there is a value on my worthless life. And I am not used to that. I am scared of getting used to that. See," he laughed without humour, "underneath all the glitter and charm, I am a loser."

"You are not worthless, Tony," she sat up. "How could you think of something as stupid as that? You've saved the world numerous times. So many people care about you...you can't see that? Truly?"

"People care about Ironman and that's great. Except he isn't me."

"Rhodey cares about you. Bruce cares about you. Nat does, in her own way. So does Clint and, I know you don't like to think about it, but Steve does too. Also, maybe it's time you tried talking to Pepper because I know she cares about you more than anyone in the world. Do I need to go on?"

Tony stared at her before shaking head, "I came to apologize and yet I am the one getting the pep talk and feeling really good about it. How do you do that?"

"My secret is that I too have superpowers," she said, jokingly.

Tony's face lost half its smile, "I think I'm going to catch up on some sleep now if my fairy godmother allows."

"Sure, sure, sleeping beauty."

"Wrong fairytale, kiddo."

"You know I'm not that much of a kid?"

"Yeah right, kiddo."

"Ugh."

"Double ugh."

"Triple ugh."

"Infinity ugh."

"Go to sleep, Tony. UGH!"

She found herself walking out of the bedroom with a smile, feeling much better than when she had walked inside. She noted that Bruce was now resting on a mattress on the kitchen floor, partially hidden by two counters. Maybe it made him feel protected from Loki who was asleep on the couch.

She sat on the couch, thinking that the Avengers had weirdly synced sleeping patterns when a sly voice whispered from beside her,

"I find myself ignored. Are you bored of me already?"

She rolled her eyes, "I thought you were asleep, Loki."

"Can't sleep," he said, turning his body to face her. "Book's over. All your puzzles are completed. No Agent Barton to argue with. The jail warden does not talk to me anymore."

"You finished all of my puzzles?" she said, picking up the newspaper. "You sadist!"

He smiled.

"And you're calling me a jail warden, seriously?"

"Aren't you hungry?"

The question caught her off guard. She frowned, "No, why?"

"You haven't eaten anything since last night," he shrugged.

She tried thinking of when she had had her last meal. "Well, I must be then. Right now, I could use a subway sandwich."

"What's a subway sandwich?" he asked.

"You don't know what a subway sandwich is? God, sometimes I wonder how you thought of ruling over the world without first exploring it." She stopped suddenly, realizing what she had said.

He glared at her before his eyes crumpled as he began to laugh. She opened and closed her mouth, unsure what to say. All she knew was that she loved hearing his deep, clean laugh, his real laugh where his eyes crumpled with his head thrown back, his whole body shaking with laughter, his lips and teeth so perfect.

Her eyes widened as she realized that she wanted to hold him close, run her fingers through his hair and kiss him.

So when he asked, still laughing, "You'd rather be an explorer than a ruler?" it took her several seconds to answer him.

"Dude, I would always prefer being an explorer than anything else. Besides, the charm of a subway sandwich overpowers the lure of a crown any day."

"Really?" he quirked an eyebrow. "I am dying to get acquainted with this 'subway sandwich' then."

She looked at him, thinking something, and under her intense gaze, he found himself blushing. Her eyes were always so bright and full emotion, her face so open and frank, he loved the way her hair framed her pretty face, the shade of her pink cheeks and her enticing lips. She was beautiful. As far as mortals went, he added mentally before coughing and looking away, shocked at the intensity of his own thoughts.

She got up suddenly, "Let's go get you a subway sandwich then."

He inhaled sharply, "When you say 'let's', am I to assume that you're possibly referring to the both of us?"

"Yeah," she nodded, excitedly.

"I can't," he visibly shrank back. "Tony's put a barrier around the house."

"Which worked with your handcuffs," she explained slowly. "C'mon, you didn't figure that out by now? Tony mentioned it like a hundred times."

"He also put in a chip in my head," Loki pointed out. "I'm not going to risk running at the door only to be electrocuted. I tried once and it was quite painful."

"Loki, calm down. The barrier worked with your handcuffs. The chip was installed earlier than they thought of hiding you here. The chip isn't rigged with the barrier. Trust me on this?" She held out her hand, "C'mon, let's give it a try."

"I don't trust anyone," he replied quickly. He couldn't understand what was happening to him. His body felt cold, his mind was blanking and fear seeped through his mind. A part of him had always known, ever since the moment those handcuffs had been broken, that he could escape this small apartment any moment he liked. However, an escape without his powers while Thanos was looking for him would be suicide. Besides, another part of him, a tiny, strange part of him was averse to leaving. As if everything would breakdown the moment he stepped out. As if escape meant a trap.

Always at a deadlock with himself. His truth.

Fury and anger were always his strong points and the minute he thought of this truth, he stood up, angry at himself. Today, he was going to break the deadlock. He stared at the hand still extended towards him and wore his best poker-face as he took it.

She raised her eyebrows in question and he nearly kissed her right there because she was so frustratingly upbeat about him. She was doing things to him, without even realizing it. She made him feel offbalance, thrown, flustered, confused, nervous. Instead, he suavely replied, "But you're not just anyone."

As they walked together to the door, she was the one who felt offbalance, thrown, flustered, confused, elated.

"Ready?" she said, placing a hand on the door knob.

He stared ahead, mouth tense.

She opened the door and still holding his hand she pushed through the air slowly. The next thing Loki knew was that his fingers entwined with hers had reached clear of the door, right out of the apartment. He looked at Naz, surprised, lips parting into a smile and stepped out of the door.

I could run right now. Away from all this.

Instead he dropped Naz's hand and said ruefully, "You forget I'm a supervillain. People will recognize me and what if we get caught by Chitauris?"

"Well, isn't it just lucky that you know a talented hairdresser?"

"It is?" he asked, quizzical.

She giggled excitedly, "It's time you visited the great Naz's Haircare Salon."

Half an hour later, Loki stared at the mirror Naz held in front of him. He frowned with distaste at his reflection. She had wanted to cut his hair but he had threatened to shave her head if she tried any stunts like that so now his hair was in what he assumed was called a 'stylish manbun' (Naz had been gushing about it since the minute she had combed his hair). The loose front hair had been combed such that it fell over his left eye. But his face, he had to touch it to believe it. He didn't look like himself at all.

His face was several shades darker, his eyelashes were darker, his eyebrows filled in. And the lines...his flawless face suddenly had lines over it. His eyes had those laugh-lines beside them that Thor had. His cheeks, his jaws, his nose; subtle spots and lines modulated the angular bones.

"Nani was good with make-up. I learnt a few tricks," Naz said.

He hardly registered her words, the person in the mirror was unfamiliar. When he frowned, his brows shifted differently giving him a kind of softness that he had never associated with his face.

This was also the first time he had looked at his clothes. The brown t-shirt clung to his body comfortably in place of the tunic he was accustomed too. He looked down on the jeans Naz had bought for him. At least they were black.

"Yeah, we'll have to buy you some new shoes," Naz commented. "And a jacket."

He made a face, "I don't have any money."

"My treat," she smiled. "I'll be back in fifteen minutes. Stay put." She walked out of the shop, fixing the 'closed' sign on the door.

He sat on the comfy chair and looked around with interest. So this was where she worked. It was spotlessly clean, smelling slightly of shampoo and lotions. Too many mirrors. His jaw clenched as he transferred his gaze to the floor. He couldn't see the charm.

Something whispered in his brain, she would like Asgard.

He smiled. He loved Asgard, himself, and it could all have been his. For the short duration of his rule as Odin, he had enjoyed himself immensely. Nostalgia revisited him now.

But he couldn't help but remember that he hadn't been really happy there. Even as a child he had been lost and felt empty. Growing up, it had just become worse. Maybe it was because he had never been meant for Asgard.

Left to die someplace insignificant, when he had come to know of his true parentage and history, he had promised himself he would never be insignificant ever again. Yeah, maybe it wasn't a good idea to think about Naz seeing Asgard. Asgard hated him and by her association with Loki, she would not be treated pleasantly.

He shook his head, laughing at how he was thinking up futile things.

"What's the joke?" Naz asked as she pushed through the door with shopping bags.

"Nothing you would understand," Loki said, sardonically.

Naz made a face, "My feelings are hurt, thou great Loki. I did spend the last quarter of an hour sifting through stuff at a thrift store." She handed him the bags.

He wiped away a fake tear, "I was a Prince and now I wear things from a thrift store."

"I know, I know, oh how the mighty hath fallen etc."

He pulled on the brown jacket and boots, "How do I look?"

She suppressed a smile.

"Tell me," he persisted, feeling awkward.

"Very mortal, I'm afraid," she burst out laughing.

He tried to glare at her but it was so impossible to keep up the act when she was trying so hard to conjure a smile and not think of the dread that hung over all of them. She placed her hand in the crook of his elbow, "Let's go, Luke."

"Luke?" he wrinkled his nose. "That's a mortal name."

"I can't be caught calling you Loki in public right?" she said before they stepped out.

With a swoosh of the door, they were out and his body stiffened coldly as he felt the air on his face, the descent of noise onto his ears even in this quieter part of the neighbourhood and his senses aware of being surrounded by people.

He shook his arm free of Naz's light hold as he thought for the millionth time of all he could do when he got the freedom of his powers again. This sprinkling of power that escaped from the control of the chip in his head, hardly appeared at his fingertips. It was like waving food in front of a starved person, allowing a meagre tidbit to fall in his reach. Why couldn't he have all of his magic at his disposal? Why was life so unfair? Why? Why? Why?

"Um, Loki?" Naz whispered. "Maybe we should go back inside?"

"Why? Because out here you see how I truly am? The charm of the cooped-up apartment is gone and reality is hitting you hard? Is that it? Are you scared of me? Of what I can do? Because you should be," he sneered, his face so close to hers that she could see her reflection in his eyes.

She closed her eyes and sighed. When she looked at him again, her stare was stubborn, "Can't you ever think of anything but what people think of you?"

He let out a strangled breath as he listened to her tired voice.

"If you want me to be scared of you, you should go back inside and flush that thought right out of your life and only come back when you're ready to treat me as a proper person rather than a panic alarm or something." She crossed her arms across her chest and waited for him.

"What the Hel is your plan?" he asked, infuriated, through clenched teeth. "What do you want?"

"Fine. Be this way," she made as if to go inside but he reached for her arm and stopped her.

"Tell me!"

"There is no plan. There is no ulterior motive. I just wanted to take you out because you looked miserable inside but I was wrong to think you'd enjoy going out. You hate it obviously. You hate everything 'mortal' so of course you hate me too but you need a reason to justify your hatred towards me so you keep looking for something to accuse me of...so that you can push me away as you do with everyone else in your life. The thing is, Loki, if you keep telling people to go away, one day they just might; so stop being a jerk and just accept the fact that I don't want to trick you or use you or trap you or whatever it is you think I'm planning to do."

"That's not true," he said, his eyes confused.

"Isn't it?"

He looked away, glaring at the ground they were standing on. "Can we just go to that sandwich place you wanted to go and get this over with?"

She nodded carelessly, walking ahead but he could see the hurt that fought to escape behind her eyes. As for her disappointment, the air was tinted with it. He followed her a few steps behind, looking nonchalant as ever; his own misguided fury, unknown to him, tinting her air.

He tried to memorise the way she walked, hands thrust into her jacket pocket, hair bouncing slightly with each step. He noted she had brushed her hair and let it down for once. It was shining under the dejected sunshine and he was mesmerized at the way it was slightly wavy, falling in easy curls across her shoulders. By the time they reached the shop, he had lost all his earlier feelings of hostility in the face of the wonders he was seeing. To be able to walk amongst the very people he had dreamt of ruling over was so different to what he had imagined. His nerves thrummed with the thrill of being so ordinary as to be ignored as he mingled with the crowd, the danger of being caught and identified keeping him alert and exhilarated. A child fell over his feet once, her balloon fluttering into his face and he had unconsciously helped the little girl up and handed her the balloon. He stood in shock even after the mother had thanked him quickly before running after her child.

After that, he dearly wanted a balloon. He didn't take one because firstly, he didn't have any money and he wasn't going to be the first one to break the silence and ask Naz to buy one and secondly, the adults didn't seem to be buying one. There was a 'hotdog' stand and he actually found himself rushing to Naz's side to ask her if they actually ate dog meat here.

"No, it's not actually dog meat," she commented drily as she watched him out of the corner of her eye, struggling to ask her.

"Wouldn't put it past your lot," he said, narrowing his eyes.

Then he wanted to know why Naz didn't have a car.

"I don't have the money for one actually," she said. "A car isn't exactly cheap."

"I could get you some Asgardian gold," he offered, the excitement creeping inadvertently into his voice. "Actually if I had my powers, I could have just created an illusion of infinite money and we could have bought one easily. I used to have chariots and oh, I could fly better than anyone else." By now, he was smiling one of his crazed smiles as he remembered the times he had had the control of an Asgardian machine at his hand, perfect pieces made for princes. The power, the freedom, the abandon, the crazy stuff he could pull off, his death stunts, it felt unreal now.

"An illusion of infinite money," Naz repeated. "That sounds very unethical and besides, if I had any money like that at my disposal I would rather get into a post-graduate course at a good college than buy a car."

Once again he found himself staring at her, marvelling the way she spoke, so confidently, so surely. What wouldn't he do to have that kind of brilliance? He raised his hand to push back the stray strands of hair that fell across her eyes but stopped mid-way, turning to look at something else awkwardly.

"That sounds interesting," he said. "What course?"

She gave him a look but pointed to the shop in front of them, "We're here." She explained as they stepped inside, "Now the ordering is tricky so I'll order for the both of us. Any preferences?" Her voice still had a measure of coldness in it which reminded him that his behaviour wasn't forgotten.

He glanced swiftly, guilt reddening his cheeks, at the menu plastered above the counters, "Um, I'll trust you on this."

She rolled her eyes, "I'm honoured, your Highness."

He watched her stand in a queue and wait her turn, all the while wrestling with his thoughts and emotions, mind and heart so contrary to each other; an unequal fight.

"Here you go," she returned with two wrapped sandwiches.

"That was quick," he commented, warily taking a piece in his hand and staring at the contents.

He had to admit, as they walked back slowly munching on to their sandwiches, that it tasted splendid. "It's a bit spicy."

"I like it that way," she said shortly, expecting him to give a monologue of complaint.

He took another bite, "Me too."

She nearly stopped short when she heard and couldn't help but give him a quizzical look.

The walk back was just as thrilling for him. He didn't even realize how his lips were twisting into a smile, how his cheeks had colour in them and his eyes, oh how they shined as they saw things he would never have allowed himself to even think about.

Life, life was beautiful and right here, he felt alive.

Even after finishing the sandwich, he was in no hurry to go back and walked as slowly as he could without attracting attention. Hence, it wasn't a surprise that his face contorted into a painful scowl the minute he found himself facing the dingy Lester Apartments.

"Must we go inside?" he stopped and looked at Naz.

She gave him a small smile as they walked inside, "I thought you missed it."

"Nothing up there to miss."

She stared searchingly at his face, so intensely that he had to look away blushing. Her eyes, those warm brown ones that could quieten storms seemed to be battling a tempest of their own at the minute.

"Will they send you back?"

He smiled lazily, the way he got on her nerves, "Who they?"

"Thor, Odin...who all are responsible for uhm—?"

He raised an eyebrow, this was getting interesting. "For throwing me back into the prison cell...where I belong? First off, there would be your best friends: Rogers and Stark—who only agreed to help on the condition that Thor ships me off to my little cell the minute he can. Liking the answer?"

She ignored his question and continued strongly, "Can't we talk to Thor about it? He would understand."

He could feel himself go weak with exasperation and anger, "I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO HIM!"

"DON'T SHOUT AT ME!"

He towered over her as they stood in the narrow space beside the steep flight of stairs that roamed upwards in a narrowing rectangle of light. They were so close he could hear her breathing, see the exact shade of anger burning off her eyes towards him, defiant, challenging, even dangerous. He frowned. Why why why did she care? Why couldn't she just leave him alone to play out whatever part the universe had always chained him to?

Why had she to be this kind of fire that he couldn't help but be drawn towards? Why was she everywhere? Why did his heart slow and quicken at the same time when she looked at him? Why did he count the minutes till she smiled? Why was she so important that it hurt to even think of going back after all this? That for the first time, the idea of prison really terrified him.

He growled as he felt his gaze drop almost, but never quite, unwillingly from her eyes to her lips and he had to tear his gaze away to address her, "When will you stop pretending that it means anything to you?"

"When will you stop bullshitting and gather the courage to just kiss me?"

***

So #NAZLOK...thoughts now? :D