RP log - Visit to Asgard - Part 8/9
Oct. 7th, 2012 03:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
withmoremeWhat: RP log - Thor was nervous about going back to Asgard to speak at Loki's trial. Tony made the suggestion that the team go with him, for moral support. Their first team field trip ensues.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8/9: In which Natasha and Clint get some air, and Thor and Tony have a chat. All on the roof.
Smile dimming, she glanced towards the door, then headed in that direction. "So, you think we're going to have to climb the outside of the building, or you think there's a way up to the spires upstairs somewhere?" If nothing else, they could at least go out one of the upper windows.
"There's probably access somewhere," he returned. "I thought we'd just head up." That was what he tended to do anywhere, really, and he usually ran across the door he wanted sooner or later. "There's balconies up there anyway; I saw them on our way in, and Stark said Thor tends to hang out up there when he wants alone time."
Nodding, Natasha stepped to one side, giving him space to walk beside her. "Sounds good."
Clint fell in beside her. He was still holding himself tense, his movements controlled. It was probably telling enough that it was a good idea they hadn't tried to join the others in returning to dinner. He hated this - hated doubting himself, hated that Loki could still make him this twitchy after two months and no small amount of time pulling himself back together, even if Natasha had done a fair amount of the work herself, both with her so-called cognitive recalibration and then just by her presence. The team had done a lot, too, even if they likely didn't realize it. It was why he had come on this trip, even when he had known facing Loki again would likely open up wounds that had only just healed. Supporting Thor was worth it, really, even if this whole thing was only lacking a few key events to be straight out of one of his nightmares.
It was those details he was trying not to think about, right now.
Natasha noticed this -- really, she imagined it would be hard for anyone, even beyond her, not to -- and shot him several sideways glances as they walked, trying to decide what to say, if she should say anything at all. Asking if he was alright seemed trite and pointless, beyond them, for children, as she had told Loki and herself love was. Trying to reassure him that S.H.I.E.L.D. had all of Loki's toys still, and that he wouldn't break onto the playground if she, as well as the rest of the Avengers, had anything to say about it, felt equally useless. As did anything else she could think to say, and so instead, she said nothing, reaching instead to put a hand to his arm, to ground him in the now and let him know he wasn't alone. She had all but burned cities for him; she would again, if need be.
He wasn't so lost in thought that he startled at the touch, but he did almost deflate, the sense that he was preparing to take or deliver a blow fading as he looked sideways at her, the distance receding from his eyes. "Thanks," he said simply, because even if she didn't say any of that, he knew it anyway.
She kept her hand at his arm and offered him a thin smile, rolling one shoulder in a shrug. "You looked like you needed an anchor."
And it was better than mentioning Budapest again, albeit in a different context this time.
"Yeah." He reached over to cover her hand with his. "Finding a footing's still an issue."
As much as he didn't care to remember Budapest, sometimes, considering how literally painful it had been, for him, there were definitely some good things that had come out of it. And even if she didn't mention it, he couldn't help but think about it, too.
"It'll come," she assured him. "And until then, you have me to offer you a hand up. You have all of us."
Even Banner, as much as he set her teeth on edge. It was more than just the Hulk, too, that bothered her. He reminded her in some way, dark and quiet, of one of the people that had trained her to be an assassin and she couldn't quite say why. She'd yet to tell anyone that, though -- probably never would, not even Clint -- and she would either get over it or catch the echo of the man she knew in Bruce in earnest, but until then, she'd let them all believe it was solely his alter ego that bothered her.
"I know," he returned, and it was clear he meant it. There had been a moment not long after Manhattan that he had doubted his place in the team, considering what Loki had done, but it had been one of the issues he'd had the least amount of trouble getting over. Rogers had asked him to come with them to Manhattan, Stark had asked him to stay in the Tower. That had been plenty to make him stop doubting, really.
He knew Natasha had issues with Banner. He thought he knew why, but he also had a strong suspicion there was more behind it - and thought he knew her well enough to believe that was really the case. If and when she felt like telling him, he'd be there to listen, but he also knew there were things she wouldn't tell him until she was ready.
"I figured." She paused, glancing away from him briefly as they started up the stairs as they reached them. She looked back, once she was sure she had her own, literal footing. "But I also figured it couldn't hurt to tell you again."
"Probably not," he admitted, looking to where they were going now, too. "There's a reason you had to hit me that hard." Clint's tone was lighter, now, and he shot her a grin that looked real enough - and was, really, other than some remaining tightness in his eyes. It would fade, though.
"Thick skull," she agreed. A pause followed, and then she made a small, thoughtful noise, a smirk tugging the corners of her lips upwards. "You know, I think that's in your file somewhere, actually."
"Right under 'ruggedly handsome'?" he shot back, apparently seriously.
Natasha canted her head to one side. "I'm not sure I remember that one being on there."
The look Clint gave her in return was definitely something close to a pout, but it faded back into seriousness a moment later, and, loftily, he began, "Well, you know. I guess that's classified. Keeping the most valuable assets secret, and so on."
She looked at him for a long moment, her amusement great enough to silence her, and then laughed softly, shaking her head. "Guess so."
Clint grinned at her outright, now, eyes bright. The grin remained for a moment before it faded again into a more honest smile, and he let himself drift sideways on the next step, bumping her arm with his. "Thanks," he said again.
She bumped back, smiling up at him, and honestly, softly, "You're welcome."
Hand still against his arm, she stopped them both at the top of the stairs and glanced down the hallway. When her eyes returned to him, she worked her jaw, almost tempted to ask which direction they should go in, though she decided against it quickly, not wanting to ruin their moment. It wasn't like they needed words, anyway -- Clint would go where ever he could get onto one of the balconies he'd mentioned earlier, and finding one wouldn't be hard, as long as they followed the outer walls -- and that in mind, she tugged him down the hall in the direction of windows.
Before long, as expected, they'd found Clint's balcony.
Clint let Natasha pull him down the hallway, knowing what she had in mind. Finding the balcony was still a relief, though, and he immediately headed for the edge, looking out over the city in front of them, taking a few deep breaths.
Despite how much he had travelled, both with the circus and then while working with S.H.I.E.L.D., he had never seen anything like Asgard before. It was why the fact that it was vaguely familiar was a little disconcerting. It wasn't anything solid, just like something quick that he remembered from a dream, and it faded when he let it go.
"It looks more amazing from up here than it did when we were riding through it," Natasha commented, stepping up to the edge with him. While the statement was innocent enough, however, it carried a note of curiosity along with it. Architecture didn't usually leave one near literally breathless.
Clint turned away to offer her a smile, the rest of the strain fading from his eyes. He had never exactly been claustrophobic; he'd never had problem sharing close quarters with anyone. Fresh air and space was still something he just needed, on occasion, and if it came with a height, that was even better.
"Everything looks better from up high," he returned.
She allowed him a small smile in return and let her eyes drift up the side of the building, her fingers drifting to one of the pouches at her hip, seeking the collapsible grappling hook and line she'd packed on a whim. It wouldn't hold up to a set of pitons and a length of rope, if and when the climb up got more difficult, but it was better than nothing and certainly better than clinging to Clint, as he used his own grapple to get up, and hoping that she didn't get in his way or that her added weight wasn't enough to break the line. "Want to head up?"
"Obviously," he returned immediately, leaning forward forward to look out himself, considering the best way to make their climb. Getting both of them up really wasn't something he was worried about, considering how much climbing he did. His line would more than hold the both of them, anyway - and if there'd ever been a time that she'd gotten in his way, he couldn't remember it. Clint reached back, starting to reach for his bow and then moving instead to the base of his quiver, to where he knew the grappling head rested in the carousel. It'd be easier to fire it, but also more chance of damaging the building, that way, and he doubted their hosts would apprciate it.
Natasha glanced over at him as she snapped her own grappling hook into its proper shape, then looked up the building again, thoughtfully. "You know, if the spires are made of the same stuff most of the walls are ... " He might be able to fire off an arrow without doing any damage.
"Point," he returned, hand moving back to draw his bow instead, flicking it open and hitting the trigger to bring the grappling hook around. He pulled the arrow free of his quiver and set it to his bow, though he didn't draw, yet. "You thinking up there?" he asked her, nodding in the same direction they had both been looking. It would be tricky, but it was likely the easiest path, too.
She attached the line to her grappling hook, tugged at it to make sure it was secure, and nodded. "I was."
Clint didn't respond, this time, just bringing his bow up and firing. There was a clink that said the shot had found its mark, and he folded his bow, returning it to his back as the line finished unspooling. "Need a hand?" he asked her, once he was sure his was set well.
Shaking her head, Natasha popped open a compartment in one of her bracers, loaded the free end of her line into it, and hit a catch that started a miniature motor in it, winding the line up. She glanced up where Clint had fixed his hook, frowing thoughtfully, then brought her wrist up, pointing it at the same general mark, give or take a foot or two, so she didn't land on top of Clint and kill them both. She wrapped her other hand around her wrist to steady it, and hit another button, this one to fire off her line. She twisted both her hands in it, once it had it its mark, tugging at it, testing its grip, and once she was satisfied, finally returned her attentions to him.
"Ready?"
"Yep," he returned, adjusting his grip on his own line and stepping up onto the balcony's edge and then off, bracing the line against his bracer as he swung out toward the next spire.
Stepping up onto the balcony, she took a deep breath to steady herself -- she had no great fear of heights, but unlike Clint, they weren't her favorite thing in the world -- and swung out after him. She landed a little roughly, her shoulder protesting enough to make her remember why she'd gotten a boost from the Cap rather than trying to hook one of the Chitauri cruisers during the battle. Still, though, she was on her feet, she hadn't dislocated anything, and they'd made it to the top of the spire. And while the view from the balcony had been amazing, this was even moreso, somehow. She blamed the adrenaline rush.
Clint reached out to steady her as she landed, watching her for a moment to make sure she was okay, though he didn't actually ask. He, too, looked out over the view, again. "You ever think you'd be standing on another planet?" he asked, after a moment. "Other than the moon base S.H.I.E.L.D.'ll get around to opening one of these days." He was only about half-joking, there. He wouldn't put it past them, really.
"I wouldn't be surprised if there already was one," she answered, half-serious herself. "But no. I didn't -- I never really thought we were alone in the universe, but I figured as screwed up as humans are, they wouldn't want to come to Earth, and they sure as hell wouldn't invite us back to their place for drinks."
"It's probably above our paygrade," Clint returned. "And me, neither. Though I stand by my report that Thor eating all the Pop Tarts in the area was a worse occurrence than leveling that hole in the wall." He was pretty sure he'd actually put that in his report, too. He also didn't think the Director'd found it all that funny, though.
Natasha rolled her eyes, though there was amusement written on her face. "Only you would think so, Clint."
"Me and every college student on the planet," he returned, going more serious a moment later as he looked out over the city again. "The things we do in the name of the job though, huh?"
"My mistake," she said lightly, following his attentions back out to the city. "I'd say this is the sort of thing that makes it worth it, though."
More or less, but she didn't feel it was right to say that considering the fact that the or less part included Loki's recent escape. Clint didn't need his attentions drawn back to that when, up until a few minutes ago, it seemed to her that that was a little hard to forget.
It was still hard to forget. Clint was just doing his very best not to think about it, if just for the moment, if just while they were out here. He knew he'd have it thrown back in his face as soon as they went back inside. "It is," he agreed, nodding.
Sooner than that, actually, it seemed.
Thor appeared on one of the spires below them, climbing out onto it from a balcony the same as they had. Unaware he had company or that he was being watched, he pulled Mjolnir from his belt and hooked the strap around his wrist so that he could wind it up for a throw. Its momentum carried him effortlessly to another one of the spires, and the moment he landed, he dropped the hammer and set to stalking back and forth across the surface of the thing. It would have been vaguely amusing somehow, Natasha decided, if he didn't look so incredibly miserable.
Clint turned to watch Thor, too, his own expression clouding over again. "Always the ones we love that hurt us the most," he muttered.
Natasha sighed, closing her eyes briefly. "We could go somewhere else."
He looked back to her. "I'm okay, Tash," he tried to assure her. And he was, really. Putting himself back together again after Loki had torn him open was a slower progress than he would have liked, but he was getting there. "Little more worried about him," he added, glancing back to Thor.
She studied him for a moment, frowning deeply, her expression critical, and then finally, she nodded. She understood that Clint getting his head back on straight was a work in progress -- she was the one that told him it would be in the first place, even though he likely already knew that on some level -- but some part of her couldn't help but resent anything or anyone who hindered rather than helped that process. It was a knee jerk reaction.
Sighing again, this time almost frustrated with herself, she looked back to Thor. "It's better for him this way. I'm not saying Loki escaping was a good thing, but ... it's better for him than the alternative." She wasn't sure Thor would have survived being made to watch his brother punished.
Clint met her eyes again at that, knowing she could read him. He knew she worried, and really, he appreciated it, even when it wasn't exactly necessary. He did plenty of worrying about her, too, after all.
When she looked back to Thor, he did, too, nodding. "I'm not gonna lie and say I don't still have secret dreams of making him a pincushion, but...." He knew Thor, now, and knew what someone hurting Loki would do to Thor - and that took a fair bit of the pleasure out of the idea. "Loki running off on him again's gotta hurt, though."
"I know." She hadn't said that Loki escaping justice would be painless -- just that it would hurt less.
Regardless, Thor looked pretty wounded, slow anger building on his face as he stopped pacing abruptly. He stared down at the ground, as much as it could be considered that, for a long moment, balefully, as if he was thinking about taking Mjolnir or one of his fists to it, then thankfully decided against it. Instead, he tightened his shoulders, set his jaw, and threw his head back in a bellowing roar. Somewhere distantly and despite the perfect, cloudless Asgardian skies, an echo of thunder roared back.
Clint frowned deeper, at that. "Hey, Stark? You doing any eavesdropping?" he asked after a moment, reaching up to adjust his comm when Tony's voice came over it a moment later.
"Since I don't have any verges, I can't really claim to be trimming those. Whatever a verge is," came the response. "You kids having a nice time?"
Natasha made a small, amused noise at the back of her throat. "Think bushes." A beat. "And it's been nice enough, so far. I can't say the same for Thor, though."
There was a pause, and Tony's tone was more serious when he spoke again. "He never came back to the banquet after he went to talk to the king. You got eyes on him?"
"Yeah," Clint returned. "He's out on one of the spires across from us."
"Right, okay, I should have figured that. I'm gonna..." he trailed off, and then it was clear he was talking to someone else for a moment, excusing himself, before he was speaking to them again. "Keep an eye on him? I'll be out in a minute."
Amusement at Tony's first response fading into a frown, she watched as Thor threw himself down onto of the spire and buried his face in his hands. "I don't think he's going anywhere."
Tony didn't respond to that. A few minutes later, though, his voice came over the comms again. "Where are you two?" he asked. It was clearly rhetorical, though, considering just as he spoke, the suit came into view around a corner. "Oh, okay," he added, mostly to himself, changing direction to aim for the spire Thor had settled on.
Where two spies watching from a few spires away had gone unnoticed, Tony and the Iron Man suit was a little less inconspicuous and Thor looked up, his expression worn, resigned, his anger having abandoned him in the last few minutes. His face was wet, and he thumbed at the spaces under his cheeks idly, not embarrassed so much as wanting to look at least vaguely presentable, and stood up, moving for the edge to meet him.
Tony dropped down onto the spire. "Hey," he offered, flipping the faceplate up. "Mind if I invade your space?" That was mostly a rhetorical question, too, really, considering he really didn't intend to leave Thor alone. Just how much he actually minded Tony being up here was the actual question, though.
"I fear I will not make for good company," he answered. He didn't want to be expected to make conversation. He wanted to be left alone.
"I wasn't really expecting you to," Tony offered honestly. "Thought you might need some company, though," he went on, deliberately using "need" instead of "want". Because Tony did know the difference between needing other people around and wanting them there, after all.
Thor, too, understood the difference, but he didn't look any happier for it. "I do not know."
Tony seemed to understand that, too. "Well," he began on, shifting to sit down, the movement surprisingly easy considering the bulk of the suit, legs hanging off the edge of the spire. "You can either throw me off your roof" - so to speak - "or we can sit up here and admire the view." He lifted his helmet off as he spoke, setting it beside him and half-turning to look up at Thor.
For a long moment, Thor studied hm in silence, and when he seemed to reach some sort of decision, he sighed and settled down on the edge with him. The silence persisted for a long while after he'd swung his legs over the edge, and then, "Who told you that you would find me here? Sif? Volstagg?"
For a while, Tony did just look out over the city - though when Thor spoke, he turned his head to look at him. "Your father said you might come up here," he admitted. "Though some little birds told me you were up here now." He turned his head, again, this time looking toward the spire Clint and Natasha had claimed.
"We always suspected he knew, though we did not understand why he did not send someone up to find us when we neglected our lessons," he said, surprisingly softly, his eyes still out on the city, though it was clear he was not really seeing it. He did not follow Tony's attentions over to where Natasha and Clint were or had been.
Tony looked back to him, watching him for a moment, thinking about what Odin had said. "Everyone needs somewhere they can just take a break," he returned finally.
"I suppose they do," he agreed. There was another stretch of silence, and when Thor seemed done with it, he glanced over at Tony, his expression weighted, considering, though he did not speak.
Tony caught the glance and looked back at Thor, again. When the other man didn't speak, he raised an eyebrow curiously.
His face hardened almost imperceptibly and he forced himself not to look away. "Rogers and I found one of Loki's illusions before the guards he or Malekith murdered were discovered."
Tony frowned faintly, at that, more concern behind the expression than anything. "Steve didn't mention it."
"No, he did not." He was still grateful for that, even if he realized belatedly that there was at least a chance that Natasha and Clint were listening in on him saying something now, in confidence. It was partially because of that and partially because he had no idea where he'd been going with that in telling Tony in the first place that he said nothing else afterwards.
"You think Loki was still hanging around? Or do you think it was just a distraction?" Even if Tony was the team's resident magician, there was a fair bit of difference between his own "magic" and what Loki had going for him. Tony didn't know how long the illusions could sustain themselves without their creator nearby.
"I have never seen my brother work that kind of magic without being close at hand," he answered. Loki had still be around somewhere -- in the palace, if not closer -- and he had missed him. "But I cannot say for sure that it was not a distraction. Or that it was He seemed ... "
He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head, the same as he had in the instants before Loki had disappeared.
Tony watched Thor for a moment. He might not have quite the same level of dislike for Loki as the spies, but he had still killed one of Tony's friends and caused others no small amount of grief. That didn't mean, though, that he couldn't at least try to understand Thor's feelings on the whole situation. "How did he seem?" he prompted gently, after the moment had passed.
"Like my brother again," he replied, simply.
Tony let out a breath, at that, and it was another long moment before he spoke. "You still have faith in him," he said, finally. Tony might not be entirely sure it wasn't misplaced, but it didn't change the fact that Thor still believed he could save his brother. "Even if he was just trying to keep you distracted this time, it will make a difference, someday." And even if Stane had been the closest Tony had ever come to having a family member turn on him, Tony had at least Pepper and Rhodey who had kept their faith in him for longer than he deserved. That part, he knew.
"I hope you are right." Or -- and a part of his knew this -- it would likely be the death of him.
Breathing out a heavy sigh, he looked away, his attentions focused somewhere beyond the city again, and after another lengthy pause, he began again with a none too subtle change of subject. "My father will announce Loki's escape and Malekith's apparent involvement tomorrow morning before the court. He says you are welcome to stay as long as we originally intended, if you wish it, but that he would not be offended if you wished to return to Midgard."
Actually, from the conversation he'd had with Odin, it seemed his father was hoping they would leave. Not that he thought any less of them for letting Loki escape or blamed them in any way, but he could not say the same for the people of Asgard. They very well might place the blame on them, and that could end very, very badly. And even beyond that, even if no one reacted negatively, if Loki had fled to Midgard, they would need to leave quickly if they wanted to have any hope of catching him, and he believed his father wanted his other son home as much as Thor did.
"I'll check with the others," he returned, though Tony had a feeling they would agree on leaving. There wasn't that much they could do here beyond what they had already done, afterall, and there was always the chance Loki had returned to Earth.
"When you decide, I ask that you let me know. My father's craftsmen will work as hard as they must to finish what you require before you leave -- " Whether that happened to be tomorrow morning or at the end of a fortnight, as had been the original planned length of their trip. " -- and I would come with you."
"No rush on that," Tony returned immediately. Yeah, they were kind of waiting for the walls to get everything done, but even considering the rate in which he tended to get things built, overnight was asking kind of a lot, considering everything he had asked for. "And we're not going to run off without you." Partly because they couldn't, really, but that was somewhat beside the point. He couldn't help but be pleased Thor was going with them, even if it was just to make sure Loki hadn't gone to Earth.
Thor looked vaguely but obviously relieved that he wouldn't be left behind and for more than just getting them home or finding Loki and bringing him home. A part of him had genuinely feared that he would somehow be blamed for Loki's escape -- especially since neither he nor Steve had said anything about the conversation he had had with his brother's double until after the fact, when it potentially could have lead to them finding and stopping Loki -- and not be asked to return.
He didn't comment on this, however, instead offering him the vaguest of smiles. "My father's craftsmen are dwarves. They will take an order to hurry as a happy challenge."
Even if Thor or Steve had mentioned seeing the illusion, Loki had already pulled a bigger one over on them in the dungeon, and none of them had seen through that one until well after it was too late. They were likely going to have to explain what had happened to Fury, at some point, but Tony was fully planning to make him ask first. Clint and Natasha might be a bigger concern, there, considering their status as official S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, but they could worry about that later. The point was: Tony didn't think any of them blamed Thor for what had happened here anymore than any of them blamed Clint for what had happened on the helicarrier.
He returned the smile, at that, his a little bigger. "Right. I'll call a team meeting, then."
Smile fading, Thor nodded.
"I will ... " Well, a part of him wanted to stay here and resume his tired roundabout of thinking about Loki, what he'd said to him in his room, and his escape, but another part of him realized that Tony had been right, that he needed the company right now, and if they weren't all ready to kick him off the team, that maybe he should show up at the meeting. "I will come with you."
Tony's smile stayed a moment longer, as he reached back to pick up his helmet, though he hesitated before putting it back on. "I'll meet you back at our rooms."
He made a small, affirmative noise and got to his feet, moving over to where he had dropped Mjolnir when he'd first made his way up here. He hesitated to pick it up, however, instead turning his attentions back to Tony. "Stark?"
Tony set his helmet back on, starting to push himself off the end of the spire - and then stopped and looked back as Thor spoke again. "Yeah?"
"Thank you," he said simply.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8/9: In which Natasha and Clint get some air, and Thor and Tony have a chat. All on the roof.
Smile dimming, she glanced towards the door, then headed in that direction. "So, you think we're going to have to climb the outside of the building, or you think there's a way up to the spires upstairs somewhere?" If nothing else, they could at least go out one of the upper windows.
"There's probably access somewhere," he returned. "I thought we'd just head up." That was what he tended to do anywhere, really, and he usually ran across the door he wanted sooner or later. "There's balconies up there anyway; I saw them on our way in, and Stark said Thor tends to hang out up there when he wants alone time."
Nodding, Natasha stepped to one side, giving him space to walk beside her. "Sounds good."
Clint fell in beside her. He was still holding himself tense, his movements controlled. It was probably telling enough that it was a good idea they hadn't tried to join the others in returning to dinner. He hated this - hated doubting himself, hated that Loki could still make him this twitchy after two months and no small amount of time pulling himself back together, even if Natasha had done a fair amount of the work herself, both with her so-called cognitive recalibration and then just by her presence. The team had done a lot, too, even if they likely didn't realize it. It was why he had come on this trip, even when he had known facing Loki again would likely open up wounds that had only just healed. Supporting Thor was worth it, really, even if this whole thing was only lacking a few key events to be straight out of one of his nightmares.
It was those details he was trying not to think about, right now.
Natasha noticed this -- really, she imagined it would be hard for anyone, even beyond her, not to -- and shot him several sideways glances as they walked, trying to decide what to say, if she should say anything at all. Asking if he was alright seemed trite and pointless, beyond them, for children, as she had told Loki and herself love was. Trying to reassure him that S.H.I.E.L.D. had all of Loki's toys still, and that he wouldn't break onto the playground if she, as well as the rest of the Avengers, had anything to say about it, felt equally useless. As did anything else she could think to say, and so instead, she said nothing, reaching instead to put a hand to his arm, to ground him in the now and let him know he wasn't alone. She had all but burned cities for him; she would again, if need be.
He wasn't so lost in thought that he startled at the touch, but he did almost deflate, the sense that he was preparing to take or deliver a blow fading as he looked sideways at her, the distance receding from his eyes. "Thanks," he said simply, because even if she didn't say any of that, he knew it anyway.
She kept her hand at his arm and offered him a thin smile, rolling one shoulder in a shrug. "You looked like you needed an anchor."
And it was better than mentioning Budapest again, albeit in a different context this time.
"Yeah." He reached over to cover her hand with his. "Finding a footing's still an issue."
As much as he didn't care to remember Budapest, sometimes, considering how literally painful it had been, for him, there were definitely some good things that had come out of it. And even if she didn't mention it, he couldn't help but think about it, too.
"It'll come," she assured him. "And until then, you have me to offer you a hand up. You have all of us."
Even Banner, as much as he set her teeth on edge. It was more than just the Hulk, too, that bothered her. He reminded her in some way, dark and quiet, of one of the people that had trained her to be an assassin and she couldn't quite say why. She'd yet to tell anyone that, though -- probably never would, not even Clint -- and she would either get over it or catch the echo of the man she knew in Bruce in earnest, but until then, she'd let them all believe it was solely his alter ego that bothered her.
"I know," he returned, and it was clear he meant it. There had been a moment not long after Manhattan that he had doubted his place in the team, considering what Loki had done, but it had been one of the issues he'd had the least amount of trouble getting over. Rogers had asked him to come with them to Manhattan, Stark had asked him to stay in the Tower. That had been plenty to make him stop doubting, really.
He knew Natasha had issues with Banner. He thought he knew why, but he also had a strong suspicion there was more behind it - and thought he knew her well enough to believe that was really the case. If and when she felt like telling him, he'd be there to listen, but he also knew there were things she wouldn't tell him until she was ready.
"I figured." She paused, glancing away from him briefly as they started up the stairs as they reached them. She looked back, once she was sure she had her own, literal footing. "But I also figured it couldn't hurt to tell you again."
"Probably not," he admitted, looking to where they were going now, too. "There's a reason you had to hit me that hard." Clint's tone was lighter, now, and he shot her a grin that looked real enough - and was, really, other than some remaining tightness in his eyes. It would fade, though.
"Thick skull," she agreed. A pause followed, and then she made a small, thoughtful noise, a smirk tugging the corners of her lips upwards. "You know, I think that's in your file somewhere, actually."
"Right under 'ruggedly handsome'?" he shot back, apparently seriously.
Natasha canted her head to one side. "I'm not sure I remember that one being on there."
The look Clint gave her in return was definitely something close to a pout, but it faded back into seriousness a moment later, and, loftily, he began, "Well, you know. I guess that's classified. Keeping the most valuable assets secret, and so on."
She looked at him for a long moment, her amusement great enough to silence her, and then laughed softly, shaking her head. "Guess so."
Clint grinned at her outright, now, eyes bright. The grin remained for a moment before it faded again into a more honest smile, and he let himself drift sideways on the next step, bumping her arm with his. "Thanks," he said again.
She bumped back, smiling up at him, and honestly, softly, "You're welcome."
Hand still against his arm, she stopped them both at the top of the stairs and glanced down the hallway. When her eyes returned to him, she worked her jaw, almost tempted to ask which direction they should go in, though she decided against it quickly, not wanting to ruin their moment. It wasn't like they needed words, anyway -- Clint would go where ever he could get onto one of the balconies he'd mentioned earlier, and finding one wouldn't be hard, as long as they followed the outer walls -- and that in mind, she tugged him down the hall in the direction of windows.
Before long, as expected, they'd found Clint's balcony.
Clint let Natasha pull him down the hallway, knowing what she had in mind. Finding the balcony was still a relief, though, and he immediately headed for the edge, looking out over the city in front of them, taking a few deep breaths.
Despite how much he had travelled, both with the circus and then while working with S.H.I.E.L.D., he had never seen anything like Asgard before. It was why the fact that it was vaguely familiar was a little disconcerting. It wasn't anything solid, just like something quick that he remembered from a dream, and it faded when he let it go.
"It looks more amazing from up here than it did when we were riding through it," Natasha commented, stepping up to the edge with him. While the statement was innocent enough, however, it carried a note of curiosity along with it. Architecture didn't usually leave one near literally breathless.
Clint turned away to offer her a smile, the rest of the strain fading from his eyes. He had never exactly been claustrophobic; he'd never had problem sharing close quarters with anyone. Fresh air and space was still something he just needed, on occasion, and if it came with a height, that was even better.
"Everything looks better from up high," he returned.
She allowed him a small smile in return and let her eyes drift up the side of the building, her fingers drifting to one of the pouches at her hip, seeking the collapsible grappling hook and line she'd packed on a whim. It wouldn't hold up to a set of pitons and a length of rope, if and when the climb up got more difficult, but it was better than nothing and certainly better than clinging to Clint, as he used his own grapple to get up, and hoping that she didn't get in his way or that her added weight wasn't enough to break the line. "Want to head up?"
"Obviously," he returned immediately, leaning forward forward to look out himself, considering the best way to make their climb. Getting both of them up really wasn't something he was worried about, considering how much climbing he did. His line would more than hold the both of them, anyway - and if there'd ever been a time that she'd gotten in his way, he couldn't remember it. Clint reached back, starting to reach for his bow and then moving instead to the base of his quiver, to where he knew the grappling head rested in the carousel. It'd be easier to fire it, but also more chance of damaging the building, that way, and he doubted their hosts would apprciate it.
Natasha glanced over at him as she snapped her own grappling hook into its proper shape, then looked up the building again, thoughtfully. "You know, if the spires are made of the same stuff most of the walls are ... " He might be able to fire off an arrow without doing any damage.
"Point," he returned, hand moving back to draw his bow instead, flicking it open and hitting the trigger to bring the grappling hook around. He pulled the arrow free of his quiver and set it to his bow, though he didn't draw, yet. "You thinking up there?" he asked her, nodding in the same direction they had both been looking. It would be tricky, but it was likely the easiest path, too.
She attached the line to her grappling hook, tugged at it to make sure it was secure, and nodded. "I was."
Clint didn't respond, this time, just bringing his bow up and firing. There was a clink that said the shot had found its mark, and he folded his bow, returning it to his back as the line finished unspooling. "Need a hand?" he asked her, once he was sure his was set well.
Shaking her head, Natasha popped open a compartment in one of her bracers, loaded the free end of her line into it, and hit a catch that started a miniature motor in it, winding the line up. She glanced up where Clint had fixed his hook, frowing thoughtfully, then brought her wrist up, pointing it at the same general mark, give or take a foot or two, so she didn't land on top of Clint and kill them both. She wrapped her other hand around her wrist to steady it, and hit another button, this one to fire off her line. She twisted both her hands in it, once it had it its mark, tugging at it, testing its grip, and once she was satisfied, finally returned her attentions to him.
"Ready?"
"Yep," he returned, adjusting his grip on his own line and stepping up onto the balcony's edge and then off, bracing the line against his bracer as he swung out toward the next spire.
Stepping up onto the balcony, she took a deep breath to steady herself -- she had no great fear of heights, but unlike Clint, they weren't her favorite thing in the world -- and swung out after him. She landed a little roughly, her shoulder protesting enough to make her remember why she'd gotten a boost from the Cap rather than trying to hook one of the Chitauri cruisers during the battle. Still, though, she was on her feet, she hadn't dislocated anything, and they'd made it to the top of the spire. And while the view from the balcony had been amazing, this was even moreso, somehow. She blamed the adrenaline rush.
Clint reached out to steady her as she landed, watching her for a moment to make sure she was okay, though he didn't actually ask. He, too, looked out over the view, again. "You ever think you'd be standing on another planet?" he asked, after a moment. "Other than the moon base S.H.I.E.L.D.'ll get around to opening one of these days." He was only about half-joking, there. He wouldn't put it past them, really.
"I wouldn't be surprised if there already was one," she answered, half-serious herself. "But no. I didn't -- I never really thought we were alone in the universe, but I figured as screwed up as humans are, they wouldn't want to come to Earth, and they sure as hell wouldn't invite us back to their place for drinks."
"It's probably above our paygrade," Clint returned. "And me, neither. Though I stand by my report that Thor eating all the Pop Tarts in the area was a worse occurrence than leveling that hole in the wall." He was pretty sure he'd actually put that in his report, too. He also didn't think the Director'd found it all that funny, though.
Natasha rolled her eyes, though there was amusement written on her face. "Only you would think so, Clint."
"Me and every college student on the planet," he returned, going more serious a moment later as he looked out over the city again. "The things we do in the name of the job though, huh?"
"My mistake," she said lightly, following his attentions back out to the city. "I'd say this is the sort of thing that makes it worth it, though."
More or less, but she didn't feel it was right to say that considering the fact that the or less part included Loki's recent escape. Clint didn't need his attentions drawn back to that when, up until a few minutes ago, it seemed to her that that was a little hard to forget.
It was still hard to forget. Clint was just doing his very best not to think about it, if just for the moment, if just while they were out here. He knew he'd have it thrown back in his face as soon as they went back inside. "It is," he agreed, nodding.
Sooner than that, actually, it seemed.
Thor appeared on one of the spires below them, climbing out onto it from a balcony the same as they had. Unaware he had company or that he was being watched, he pulled Mjolnir from his belt and hooked the strap around his wrist so that he could wind it up for a throw. Its momentum carried him effortlessly to another one of the spires, and the moment he landed, he dropped the hammer and set to stalking back and forth across the surface of the thing. It would have been vaguely amusing somehow, Natasha decided, if he didn't look so incredibly miserable.
Clint turned to watch Thor, too, his own expression clouding over again. "Always the ones we love that hurt us the most," he muttered.
Natasha sighed, closing her eyes briefly. "We could go somewhere else."
He looked back to her. "I'm okay, Tash," he tried to assure her. And he was, really. Putting himself back together again after Loki had torn him open was a slower progress than he would have liked, but he was getting there. "Little more worried about him," he added, glancing back to Thor.
She studied him for a moment, frowning deeply, her expression critical, and then finally, she nodded. She understood that Clint getting his head back on straight was a work in progress -- she was the one that told him it would be in the first place, even though he likely already knew that on some level -- but some part of her couldn't help but resent anything or anyone who hindered rather than helped that process. It was a knee jerk reaction.
Sighing again, this time almost frustrated with herself, she looked back to Thor. "It's better for him this way. I'm not saying Loki escaping was a good thing, but ... it's better for him than the alternative." She wasn't sure Thor would have survived being made to watch his brother punished.
Clint met her eyes again at that, knowing she could read him. He knew she worried, and really, he appreciated it, even when it wasn't exactly necessary. He did plenty of worrying about her, too, after all.
When she looked back to Thor, he did, too, nodding. "I'm not gonna lie and say I don't still have secret dreams of making him a pincushion, but...." He knew Thor, now, and knew what someone hurting Loki would do to Thor - and that took a fair bit of the pleasure out of the idea. "Loki running off on him again's gotta hurt, though."
"I know." She hadn't said that Loki escaping justice would be painless -- just that it would hurt less.
Regardless, Thor looked pretty wounded, slow anger building on his face as he stopped pacing abruptly. He stared down at the ground, as much as it could be considered that, for a long moment, balefully, as if he was thinking about taking Mjolnir or one of his fists to it, then thankfully decided against it. Instead, he tightened his shoulders, set his jaw, and threw his head back in a bellowing roar. Somewhere distantly and despite the perfect, cloudless Asgardian skies, an echo of thunder roared back.
Clint frowned deeper, at that. "Hey, Stark? You doing any eavesdropping?" he asked after a moment, reaching up to adjust his comm when Tony's voice came over it a moment later.
"Since I don't have any verges, I can't really claim to be trimming those. Whatever a verge is," came the response. "You kids having a nice time?"
Natasha made a small, amused noise at the back of her throat. "Think bushes." A beat. "And it's been nice enough, so far. I can't say the same for Thor, though."
There was a pause, and Tony's tone was more serious when he spoke again. "He never came back to the banquet after he went to talk to the king. You got eyes on him?"
"Yeah," Clint returned. "He's out on one of the spires across from us."
"Right, okay, I should have figured that. I'm gonna..." he trailed off, and then it was clear he was talking to someone else for a moment, excusing himself, before he was speaking to them again. "Keep an eye on him? I'll be out in a minute."
Amusement at Tony's first response fading into a frown, she watched as Thor threw himself down onto of the spire and buried his face in his hands. "I don't think he's going anywhere."
Tony didn't respond to that. A few minutes later, though, his voice came over the comms again. "Where are you two?" he asked. It was clearly rhetorical, though, considering just as he spoke, the suit came into view around a corner. "Oh, okay," he added, mostly to himself, changing direction to aim for the spire Thor had settled on.
Where two spies watching from a few spires away had gone unnoticed, Tony and the Iron Man suit was a little less inconspicuous and Thor looked up, his expression worn, resigned, his anger having abandoned him in the last few minutes. His face was wet, and he thumbed at the spaces under his cheeks idly, not embarrassed so much as wanting to look at least vaguely presentable, and stood up, moving for the edge to meet him.
Tony dropped down onto the spire. "Hey," he offered, flipping the faceplate up. "Mind if I invade your space?" That was mostly a rhetorical question, too, really, considering he really didn't intend to leave Thor alone. Just how much he actually minded Tony being up here was the actual question, though.
"I fear I will not make for good company," he answered. He didn't want to be expected to make conversation. He wanted to be left alone.
"I wasn't really expecting you to," Tony offered honestly. "Thought you might need some company, though," he went on, deliberately using "need" instead of "want". Because Tony did know the difference between needing other people around and wanting them there, after all.
Thor, too, understood the difference, but he didn't look any happier for it. "I do not know."
Tony seemed to understand that, too. "Well," he began on, shifting to sit down, the movement surprisingly easy considering the bulk of the suit, legs hanging off the edge of the spire. "You can either throw me off your roof" - so to speak - "or we can sit up here and admire the view." He lifted his helmet off as he spoke, setting it beside him and half-turning to look up at Thor.
For a long moment, Thor studied hm in silence, and when he seemed to reach some sort of decision, he sighed and settled down on the edge with him. The silence persisted for a long while after he'd swung his legs over the edge, and then, "Who told you that you would find me here? Sif? Volstagg?"
For a while, Tony did just look out over the city - though when Thor spoke, he turned his head to look at him. "Your father said you might come up here," he admitted. "Though some little birds told me you were up here now." He turned his head, again, this time looking toward the spire Clint and Natasha had claimed.
"We always suspected he knew, though we did not understand why he did not send someone up to find us when we neglected our lessons," he said, surprisingly softly, his eyes still out on the city, though it was clear he was not really seeing it. He did not follow Tony's attentions over to where Natasha and Clint were or had been.
Tony looked back to him, watching him for a moment, thinking about what Odin had said. "Everyone needs somewhere they can just take a break," he returned finally.
"I suppose they do," he agreed. There was another stretch of silence, and when Thor seemed done with it, he glanced over at Tony, his expression weighted, considering, though he did not speak.
Tony caught the glance and looked back at Thor, again. When the other man didn't speak, he raised an eyebrow curiously.
His face hardened almost imperceptibly and he forced himself not to look away. "Rogers and I found one of Loki's illusions before the guards he or Malekith murdered were discovered."
Tony frowned faintly, at that, more concern behind the expression than anything. "Steve didn't mention it."
"No, he did not." He was still grateful for that, even if he realized belatedly that there was at least a chance that Natasha and Clint were listening in on him saying something now, in confidence. It was partially because of that and partially because he had no idea where he'd been going with that in telling Tony in the first place that he said nothing else afterwards.
"You think Loki was still hanging around? Or do you think it was just a distraction?" Even if Tony was the team's resident magician, there was a fair bit of difference between his own "magic" and what Loki had going for him. Tony didn't know how long the illusions could sustain themselves without their creator nearby.
"I have never seen my brother work that kind of magic without being close at hand," he answered. Loki had still be around somewhere -- in the palace, if not closer -- and he had missed him. "But I cannot say for sure that it was not a distraction. Or that it was He seemed ... "
He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head, the same as he had in the instants before Loki had disappeared.
Tony watched Thor for a moment. He might not have quite the same level of dislike for Loki as the spies, but he had still killed one of Tony's friends and caused others no small amount of grief. That didn't mean, though, that he couldn't at least try to understand Thor's feelings on the whole situation. "How did he seem?" he prompted gently, after the moment had passed.
"Like my brother again," he replied, simply.
Tony let out a breath, at that, and it was another long moment before he spoke. "You still have faith in him," he said, finally. Tony might not be entirely sure it wasn't misplaced, but it didn't change the fact that Thor still believed he could save his brother. "Even if he was just trying to keep you distracted this time, it will make a difference, someday." And even if Stane had been the closest Tony had ever come to having a family member turn on him, Tony had at least Pepper and Rhodey who had kept their faith in him for longer than he deserved. That part, he knew.
"I hope you are right." Or -- and a part of his knew this -- it would likely be the death of him.
Breathing out a heavy sigh, he looked away, his attentions focused somewhere beyond the city again, and after another lengthy pause, he began again with a none too subtle change of subject. "My father will announce Loki's escape and Malekith's apparent involvement tomorrow morning before the court. He says you are welcome to stay as long as we originally intended, if you wish it, but that he would not be offended if you wished to return to Midgard."
Actually, from the conversation he'd had with Odin, it seemed his father was hoping they would leave. Not that he thought any less of them for letting Loki escape or blamed them in any way, but he could not say the same for the people of Asgard. They very well might place the blame on them, and that could end very, very badly. And even beyond that, even if no one reacted negatively, if Loki had fled to Midgard, they would need to leave quickly if they wanted to have any hope of catching him, and he believed his father wanted his other son home as much as Thor did.
"I'll check with the others," he returned, though Tony had a feeling they would agree on leaving. There wasn't that much they could do here beyond what they had already done, afterall, and there was always the chance Loki had returned to Earth.
"When you decide, I ask that you let me know. My father's craftsmen will work as hard as they must to finish what you require before you leave -- " Whether that happened to be tomorrow morning or at the end of a fortnight, as had been the original planned length of their trip. " -- and I would come with you."
"No rush on that," Tony returned immediately. Yeah, they were kind of waiting for the walls to get everything done, but even considering the rate in which he tended to get things built, overnight was asking kind of a lot, considering everything he had asked for. "And we're not going to run off without you." Partly because they couldn't, really, but that was somewhat beside the point. He couldn't help but be pleased Thor was going with them, even if it was just to make sure Loki hadn't gone to Earth.
Thor looked vaguely but obviously relieved that he wouldn't be left behind and for more than just getting them home or finding Loki and bringing him home. A part of him had genuinely feared that he would somehow be blamed for Loki's escape -- especially since neither he nor Steve had said anything about the conversation he had had with his brother's double until after the fact, when it potentially could have lead to them finding and stopping Loki -- and not be asked to return.
He didn't comment on this, however, instead offering him the vaguest of smiles. "My father's craftsmen are dwarves. They will take an order to hurry as a happy challenge."
Even if Thor or Steve had mentioned seeing the illusion, Loki had already pulled a bigger one over on them in the dungeon, and none of them had seen through that one until well after it was too late. They were likely going to have to explain what had happened to Fury, at some point, but Tony was fully planning to make him ask first. Clint and Natasha might be a bigger concern, there, considering their status as official S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, but they could worry about that later. The point was: Tony didn't think any of them blamed Thor for what had happened here anymore than any of them blamed Clint for what had happened on the helicarrier.
He returned the smile, at that, his a little bigger. "Right. I'll call a team meeting, then."
Smile fading, Thor nodded.
"I will ... " Well, a part of him wanted to stay here and resume his tired roundabout of thinking about Loki, what he'd said to him in his room, and his escape, but another part of him realized that Tony had been right, that he needed the company right now, and if they weren't all ready to kick him off the team, that maybe he should show up at the meeting. "I will come with you."
Tony's smile stayed a moment longer, as he reached back to pick up his helmet, though he hesitated before putting it back on. "I'll meet you back at our rooms."
He made a small, affirmative noise and got to his feet, moving over to where he had dropped Mjolnir when he'd first made his way up here. He hesitated to pick it up, however, instead turning his attentions back to Tony. "Stark?"
Tony set his helmet back on, starting to push himself off the end of the spire - and then stopped and looked back as Thor spoke again. "Yeah?"
"Thank you," he said simply.
