The Immortality War || The Avengers

Chapter Twenty: Homecoming

Music is "My Oldest Friend" by Andrew Belle.

Picture is The Avengers.

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CHAPTER TWENTY: Homecoming

{May 7, 2012 - Present Day}

The Avengers reconvene at the Stark Penthouse suite where we left Loki. Natasha and Clint slip in just as Loki is gathering enough strength to push himself off the broken tile flooring where the Hulk left him minutes ago. Natasha glares at the mischief god, scepter in hand. "What do we do with him now?" she asks.

"He has to face justice for what he's done," Steve says, giving a look of concern towards Thor.

Thor nods in agreement. "I will take him back to Asgard. He will face my father's justice there."

I nod in agreement. "The sooner he's off our little green and blue ball, the better. I agree with Thor."

Thor gives me a thankful smile, and we watch as Loki slowly pulls himself up. Clint loads an arrow onto his bow, aiming it at Loki's head as he turns around.

Loki groans in pain, offering, "If it's all the same to you...I'll have that drink now."

After a moment of the group collectively glaring, Clint scoffs, "Yeah, not likely. Move your ass. You're going home."

Loki scowls. "I haven't it."

Natasha turns to the group, "Fury just sent me a com that says he won't be able to pull us out of the Stark Tower for another few minutes. The streets around this place are a mess. He suggests we find a place on the lower levels to stay until he can get a team here."

Tony grins and turns to the rest of us. "Swarma, anybody?"

Steve nods to Loki. "What do we do with him?"

Tony's grin grows wider. "I think I have an idea."

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In a small, debris-ridden swarma restaurant, the Avengers sit and wait in disarray, slumped around a table with baskets of sandwiches and fries in front of them. In the background, an older couple in aprons clean the messy eatery.

Thor takes a weary bite of his sandwich, eyes glued to his brother who is tied up and gagged, sitting cross-legged on the ground a few feet away from the table. The mischief god glares collectively at all of us, eyes moving from one to the other in displeasure.

Bruce, now calmed down quite a bit, lifts a French fry to his mouth, slowly chewing it. Steve, sitting to my left, leans his chin onto his fist. On my right, Natasha and Clint partially share each others chairs, Clint's feet on Natasha's chair and vice versa.

Tony stares expressionless at the wall across from him, chewing his swarma with a distasteful look on his face. He balls up his napkin, tossing it like a basketball into the recycling bin across the room, beside Loki.

No one says a word.

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"Despite the devastation of what has been confirmed as an extraterrestrial attack, the extraordinary heroics of the group known as the Avengers has been to many a cause not only for comfort, but for celebration--"

"--I don't exactly feel safe with those things out there. It just seems like there's a lot they're not telling us--"

"--It's just really great knowing they're out there, y'know. That someone is watching over us--"