fossilised | For Steve

For Steve

The war had been raging for a long time now, and James Buchanan Barnes had been drafted some months ago to ship out to Europe and fight with all the others in the trenches and on the front lines. Telegrams came back daily with the news of more brothers, sons, fathers, and husbands killed. More friends who will never return, and still there was no end in sight.

But then something even stranger began happening on both sides of the timeline.

All the newsreels were reporting strange anomalies centred in New York City and Washington D.C. that could only be explained by time itself unravelling in places. Buildings that changed to vast monoliths of glass and steel for a few minutes and then back again, a faded billboard for asthma cigarettes becoming a full colour motion picture of a man eating soup. Some people had even said they had met men and women claiming to be from the future, though this was all hushed up.

It only lasted a few days, and then it was sorted. Sealed, the government official offices said, just a trick by the Nazis to confuse us. Forget it and go about your day.

But there were pieces of the future lost in the past for good.

The Winter Soldier-- Bucky-- whoever he was now, confused fragmented memories all he had to go on, had been thrown through time unceremoniously into a street that looked altogether familiar and confusing. He hid from the authorities who were collecting all the anomalies with ease, even though his manner of dress was out of place now with jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. He didn't change it. He found his feet taking him somewhere only half remembered.

An apartment with a key hidden under an old brick. Why did he know it was there?

He didn't know. He just let himself in, quiet as a whisper, and made his way through to the bedroom where someone was asleep under the covers. Skinny, blond, somehow also familiar (the man on the bridge? The man in the Potomac? The man at the museum? No, that didn't make sense, that man had bulging muscles, but somehow he was sure they were the same). He didn't say anything, just stood there and watched impassively, waiting for the man to wake up.

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Hand holding in public was probably never going to be something that the two blonds would do. They looked too much like each other for any of that to be public. But Bucky was right. They might want intimacy, or at least to share in the intimacy with each other. It needed to stop being strange to share kissing with Bucky. This had to be a group effort. It just had to be.

Grant looked and sounded relieved, and though Steve was still mucking through all of this, he felt the same. Sam hadn't been so much as an advisor on seeing this through, because he hadn't told him everything, but his friend had suggested that he try to be as open as possible. To really communicate. Even if it was strange or even if it hurt. Even if he was afraid of the conflict, he had to open his mouth.

"Can we-- I'm going to need to go slow. With everything. We just went steady," Steve confessed. And at his heart, he was still a man from last century.

He couldn't just jump into bed. Not with anyone. He didn't even masturbate! That's how wholesome he was!

"I'm not asking for anything else," said Bucky, eyebrows shooting up. "I'm not ready for that."

At least he felt more comfortable admitting that now that it didn't come with a potential for losing the two of them. This wasn't him wanting to backstep to being friends, it was just wanting to take it slow before he made it into bed with them. Though for Bucky, it was less about old century sensibilities, and more that he could barely handle his own penis to go to the bathroom let alone do anything more sexual yet.

Poor Grant might just have to figure out how to relieve his own tension for a while.

"It's not that I don't want either of you, but I can't do that. Not yet."

He didn't say 'maybe not ever', but the implication was there. Though he would try damn hard to not let it be so, he didn't want the two of them to be celibate because of him; though now that they had each other two, perhaps that was less of an issue.

So pleased was Grant that no one one we going anywhere that he didn't quite pick up on the whole having to put a lid on his desires. He just felt so full all the time, like every little thing could set him off. It was an itch he would have to learn to scratch on his own for awhile, but that wasn't even on his mind. He was so relieved to just have Bucky, and now to really have Steve, that his grin became infectious enough to even make Steve smile too.

"Can we all please eat dinner now or are we taking thst slow too? The pasta is going to turn hard again. So wash your hands. Both of you!" He wasn't sure why he enjoyed bossing them around sometimes but he did. Probably because they could both toss him around but still deferred to him a lot of the time.

Dinner went well now that he had learned how much to make for each of their appetites. Bucky still got all of his proteins in easy to digest forms and Steve had enough to fill him. After dinner was Netflix on the couch, sleep in seperate beds and a new day ahead of them.

That night there was a storm, however. Something incredibly big, something centered on Building 7 where Banner was asleep watching Independance Day, where the machine was located to open up paths between realities moving concurrently with their own.

Banner and all of Building 7 vanished, unraveling like a sweater until he and it were gone like radioactive yarn. It singed the ground and the atmosphere, kicking up grass and dirt around the only thing they remained.

Grant was not the only person who didn't belong in this time and place. Not any more.

No, no, he was not.

While the residents of the compound buildings slept, the Rogers boys and Bucky tired but no longer so fractured, Tony drunk and sore over Pepper, Sam sleeping in his own room, and the others away on various missions, none noticed that Bruce Banner and his particular building were no longer in residence.

Instead, stood in the middle of the singed ground was a woman with long flowing black hair and brilliant green eyes. She did not know this place, this time, but she recognised the smell of Midgard. The sense of magic was different, the pull to her Asgard was gone, the pull to her Jotunheim similarly destroyed.

Suddenly dressed in skin-tight leather trousers and stilettos, with a low scooped green top, the woman sashayed over to the nearest building and rapped impatiently on the door.

Wherever this was, this was not where she held sway as Queen.

Because no one one else ws going to answer the door to his own garage, and DUM-E was totally banned from doing anything but pouting in the corner and thinking about what he had done, re: the scotch, Tony shuffled over to it (well, stumbled), ready to think Barnes for not scaring the shit out of him again and learning down to knock.

He was not expecting a woman he didn't know to be standing there. He rubbed furtively at his eyes. "N? Likelihood that I'm dreaming?"

"You are awake, sir. I am completely certain of that, but I welcome you to pinch yourself if you don't believe me," he sassed and Tony rolled his eyes.

"Are you a reporter? Becsuse your press pass was revoked this morning." This was t good. How long has she been snooping?

That was definitely not where she held sway as Queen.

Mortals on Midgard now knew how to recognise their Queen on sight and, though she allowed them many freedoms, none would dare speak with her this way. Interesting, a touch concerning, but she was a powerful sorceress and she knew how to travel between realms. Wherever she had ended, she was sure that she would find her way home.

She had better, for her sister would become restless and foolish without Loki there to temper her brash need for war.

"I am no reporter, mortal," she pushed past him with ease and into the building, disappointed at the lack of useful things around. "Tell me, what year and country is this?"

Mortal? He last person that Stark knew that called them periodically by their short lives in that particular accent pretty much hung around to decimate the Poptart and Coffee population before he rode back home in a rainbow. Tony knew that there had to be a lot of other Asgardians hanging around but he didn't expect to meet one.

Not exactly.

He stood by the door as she swept passed him and he might have checked out her ass in passing. He was only human and wow. That was amazing. "2014, United States of Tony Stark. Hello. Who are you?" There were sensitive things in this room. He had lots of projects going on and all of his legal stuff was still out and about.

He didn't need a visitor right now.

It was so strange to see a mortal so relaxed around her. Midgard had become enslaved centuries since, it had fallen in Jotun rule before she was even born and the rule of it passed to the second child in the royal lineage. Helblindi had become King of Jotunheim once Laufey had died, and Loki had taken rule of Midgard. The mortals did not have a bad life, they had adapted well to live in the colder climes of their realm once the Jotuns had taken it, and it had never been frozen quite to the degree of her home. But they knew their place, servants and slaves to the Jotnar and, since the iconic treaty was signed in her birth year, to the Asgardians too.

She had spent much of her childhood on Asgard, forging links with Thor whom she loved just as much as Helblindi and Bylestir. Thor, too, had spent many years upon Jotunheim, for the two realms that had once been such bitter enemies were now the closest of allies.

United States, she did not know that name. The settlements on Midgard were densely populated monoliths of glass and concrete, massive leaps in technology occurring to assist in communication and survival. But almost no weapon increases, for they were a world at peace under vassalage. So this, this was very strange.

"Who rules the United States of Tony Stark, mortal?"

She chose not to introduce herself, she did not owe courtesy to one who should be as a slave to her. It was so fascinating, usually mortals would kill for a moment in the presence of their Queen and being chosen to become her personal slave was the highest honour that most mortals could only dream of for their young.

"Sort of a joint rule," Tony frowned. He couldn't tell if she was just dumb, like Thor was about coffee makers and pocket watches, or if she was messing with him. "Me and Cap. Or maybe Wilson. Haven't pieced together if Cap is back-back or-- Wow. Stop flaunting your feminine alien wiles at me." He'd just been blabbing about things that didn't concern the general population. Not on Earth. Not on Asgard. No. "Listen, did you get lost? Wrong turn at Albuquerque?"

Did Asgardians just think it was okay to plop down? And why hadn't Veronixa let J know about the magnetic activity from the Bifrost opening? He hated it when Thor just showed up.

"Thor's probably still hanging around." He'd be with Jane Foster. Who was not as awesome as Pepper Potts no matter what Sir Drapes said. "If you're stuck I mean. If not. Uh. Okay, nice to meet you? You can go now. Bye."

Fortunate of her to meet the ruler of this particular settlement, though there needed to be discipline implemented if they did not know who was truly in charge. She would speak with Thor and see who had control of Midgard in this strange reality that she had found herself in, and she would take them in hand to tell them how to rule.

She pushed herself up onto one of the workbenches and crossed her legs, the leather of her pants sinfully tight against her skin.

"You will call my sister and have her come at once."

"Uh. I don't think I can make long distance calls off world." That was weird just saying it. "J, see if Thor is around and has his communication card with him?" The AI responded, but Tony just talked over him. JARVIS wasn't too offended. "Who's your sister?"

And did she have legs as nice as yours?

Tony wisely did not ask that question, but he didn't have time to as JARVIS announced that he had not reached Thor, but located him coming from Central Park already and heading in the direction. The Thunderer alone had noticed the strange anamoly (all right, Jane Foster had and sent him ahead) and was trying to reach the site before SHIELD did to it like it did to Mjolnir some years before.

"Estimated arrival is two minutes."

"Oh good. You can talk to him and he can take you home and everything will be great. Just don't touch my stuff."

Him?!

For the first time since arriving in this frankly backwards world, Loki felt her eyebrows shoot up into her hairline. Thor did not have the sorcery skills to bend her shape, even in so simple a way as to change from female to male, so was this some imposter who shared the same name as her sister? She recalled that there had been a spate of mortals who named their children after the Asgardian and Jotnar rulers for a while, before they had been firmly discouraged from such practises and urged to rename their young.

"Do not presume to give me an order again, mortal, lest I decide that your fascinating manner of speech is not enough to save you from your impudence."

She did, however, choose to answer the question asked.

"I am Queen Loki of Jotunheim."

Well well well. If they were going to be mean to one another now, Tony decided to just carry on with his end. Little spats with pretty women tended to get him an expose after all! He folded his arms over his chest and looked decidedly--

Okay, not worried, but just a little bit confused. "The last Loki I met was muzzled and sent home in chains," he said, just to be a little extra rude. He was not exactly pleased by having another Loki or some other kingdom in the stars in his workshop. Not at all.

A crack of thunder and a general shaking of the ground caused Tony to back towards the window and glance outside. He could see a whole lot of nothing, and that bothered him. He should be able to see into Banner's living room if the lights were on. And they had been on an hour or so ago. That made him frown.

"Stay here," he ordered and stepped out of the door only to have Thor suddenly in his face.

"Stark. We will need your facilities. The entire building is--"

Thor paused, hammer in hand, eyes transfixed over Tony's shoulder before his teeth bared. He had not seen this form in a long time. Loki rarely wore a woman's face.

Edited 2017-03-09 16:35 (UTC)

Loki would be sure to kill this mortal slowly for that slighting remark, as if she would ever be led in chains anywhere. Not now, not when she heard the familiar crackle of Mjolnir's arrival, but later. She would recall the face of this mortal, strangely familiar somehow, and she would make it contort in pain.

For now, though, her eyes rested upon the muscle and height of what could only be Thor. His hair magnificent, his muscles impressive. It was... hilarious. Loki could not help but burst into delighted laughter, slipping off the work bench to come toward him and reach out to touch his chest.

"I should not be surprised to find you so well endowed, my brother." For sister, he was surely not. "I should pay great sums of gold to take an image of this home with it, for it would entertain all on feast days."

Thor was strong, her muscles well made even against her feminine form, but she was not like this. This form truly made Thor look like the sort with all muscle and no brain, and Loki genuinely could not stop her laughter.

"This is not possible."

Four simply words were followed by the lift of s hand towards the back of Loki's neck. This was the form his brother chose to play tricks on the dwarves or on the Warriors Three. He did not bother to flaunt it when not looking for mischief. It reminded him of simpler times when he loved and was loved in return by his brother. This was true pain and it flashed in his eyes as his grip tightened.

"How is it you escaped?" he asked, voice a growl that made Tony step back and whisper a command to JARVIS to get his armor ready. It was just in the corner with a sheet over it anyway, waiting for him. The eyes of the face plate illuminated and the reactor glowed steadily. "And to Midgard of all places. The BiFrost was only just repaired. How is it you crossed Heimdall's knowledge? You will tell me now."

This may not be the sister that Loki knew, but it was still so easy for her to read each emotion on Thor's face, he was no better than the Thor she knew at concealing them. Yet she did not understand the pain that lingered there, or the look in his eyes that suggested he was a more tempered and less impulsive creature than her kin.

"I have never been in chains to need escaping, do not think to confuse me with another."

Was the Loki of this world truly a criminal? The thought did not sit well in her stomach at all, it was a disgrace for royalty to fall so far that they must be caged and stripped of their rank and privilege.

"Do not think to hold me in so aggressive a manner, my brother, or you shall find that you no longer possess a hand to hold me at all."

Thor was not at all pleased by this predicament. He searched Loki's eyes to discover what this trickery might be hiding there. Thor could smell the difference though, the additional cold and ice, the female. That was what threw him off so much. This was Loki's true form. There was no taste of illusion here. Not even a subtle one.

He released her with a frown and took a step back. "I have no sister. My brother was named traitor for crimes against Midgard, a protected Realm. He remains there still. You are he and yet you are not."

Thor was ever so eloquent, ever so willing to state the obvious. He did so now without trepidation, without care that he might look the fool. He did not banish the hammer however. Mjolnir stayed at his side in case he had needs to call it to battle.

"How come you to this plane? My brother does not step between the voids." Well. Then again, how else did he survive the fall from the Bifrost. "And tell me now where you have placed the building that once belonged where you first set foot upon this Realm. I care not to involve the All-Father in this doing, Loki, but Midgard is under my protection and will not have you march an army once more into my domain."

"Your protection?" She raised an eyebrow, disappointment entering her expression as though Thor had just made a blunder that even an infant would feel embarrassed to have made. "If Midgard is under your rule, then you have shamed yourself by allowing it to grow so complacent. Tell me, how is it that Midgard has fallen to you? Surely, even if the Loki you know has allowed himself to be named traitor, the rule would pass to my younger brother."

Midgard was, after all, the province of Jotunheim.

Loki pushed herself back up onto the work bench to take a lounging position, refusing to allow herself to be intimidated by, or dictated to, by this version of Thor. Should he wish to claim no kinship simply through the basis of different realms, she would not allow him leeway.

"I have come to march no armies, I drank at a feast and stepped out to take the night air, when I found myself here on a Midgard much altered from how it should be."

Tony had wandered the perimeter of the room, all the time scratching along the stubble of his chin as he watched the two Asgardians speak. Thor was adamant that Baldir was not fit to rule and that Midgard ruled themselves, so there was no shame to place upon his shoulders, but Tony was barely paying attention to them until he realized that the building thst had housed the dimensional device was gone.

"She's from one of the concurrent alternate realities-- like Grant," he announced, leaning against the wall now as he observed the two. "And let me get this straight. You come from a reality where you or Thor rule over Earth. And from the way you reacted when I answered the door and didn't know you, and that whole Queen title, I'm going to guess that you still see us all as ants under your finely heeled boots. But you can't stay here. We have enough crazy already," he snorted.

Thor, however, looked torn. "Stark. Leave us. I would speak with this version of my brother alone."

Tony did not look impressed. "Uh. This is my-- you know what? Fine. J, wake Cap. He's gonna love this."

It was not quite so simple or black and white as Loki believing that mortals were to be crushed like ants beneath her boot, for she did not. Midgard, and therefore the mortals who inhabited it, were under her rule and therefore her protection. Their rightful place was beneath her, but she was no tyrant and the people of Midgard loved her as their Queen. It was just the rightful order of things.

"I do not speak of Baldir, do not be a fool, he is your sister and not my brother. I speak of Bylestir, third son of Laufey and Farbauti."

Loki ignored the mortal as he huffed his way out of the garage to go and speak to whoever this 'Cap' was, informed by his invisible servant that the man was currently fast asleep and was he certain that he wished to wake him?

Either way, the two siblings were left alone before long, and Tony could go and examine where there had once been a Hulk and now was no longer.

"We have no such--" Thor cut himself off, hand running over an impressively thick beard, cropped close to his chin. He was having trouble grasping this diversity between realities. They were far more convergent than he had imagined, though he did not imagine much. He bad been told of Grant and of the work of his fellow Avengers moving through time and space to reach out to close breaches made by other humans, but he was needed elsewhere and Midgard was a low priority. Yes, even for the love of Jane Foster, Thor could not waste time with dalliances. Not when there were the periodic uprising in the Realms to squash so thst people could live in peace.

He could not but help to think that we're his brother here, he would find this version of himself to be fascinating. Perhaps even appealing. Or maybe not. They would likely argue that their own ways were the only way and end up with Thor in the middle of a battle of sorcery.

No. Thank. You.

He snorted ever so slightly as he watched this sister and let the name she spoke click into understanding. "How is it you call me brother and call the children of Laufey siblings as well? It's as if you grew up knowing us both as kin and that is not possible."

"How is that not possible?"

She had grasped this difference in their realms easily, it was no difficult feat to imagine a wholly convergent world, but it still fascinated her to learn of the differences. Surely something as intrinsic as the friendship between their realms could not be changed.

"It has been a long-standing tradition for the children of the royal lines of Jotunheim and Asgard to spend half their childhood upon their sister realm, forming kinship with those that they will no doubt lean upon during rule later. I spent much of my formative years upon Asgard, and you spent much of your later childhood upon Jotunheim. You may not be my blood kin, but kin you still are."

She shimmered with green energy and changed her form without thinking about it, the blue of a Jotun worn with an ease that the Loki of this universe had never managed.

"Is this not how your childhood was spent?"

That form was not one that Thor was comfortable with. Seeing Loki, even as a woman, was better for him to grasp than Loki in Jotun skin. He did not take a step back so much as he did slide a door behind him in order to brace himself. He had no idea if she would attack. The Loki he knew likely would have taken any moment of surprise to first stab him and then tease him for it. Or perhaps look guilty, as if he had no idea why he had lashed out.

He still saw his brother best when he closed his eyes, standing on the Tower Stark built, faces close, a knife in his gut. Loki looked so afraid, not of Thor or for Thor, but for himself. It was far better than seeing him lie dead in his arms upon that forsaken Realm-- Thor growled to release himself from the pain of it.

He would not be blinded by this witch in Loki's stead. He would not let himself be fooled by her. He had been hurt enough, hurt so much lately in ways he had never been able to tell the others. They knew Loki only as a bringer of evil upon their worlds.

"I spent no portion of my childhood upon Jotunheim. You were raised solely by Odin All-Father and I believed you to be kin for nearly your full life. We grew up as if we were blood and you are now dead and gone to dust," Thor replied.

Too emotional. She would likely exploit that. He knew it the moment the words left his lips.

Now all of that was very interesting, and very troubling. It was obvious that they were not actually blood kin in this reality, the wording choice suggested that Loki was still a child of Jotunheim but had not known it. Why? Why had he been raised solely by the All-Father? Why to believe he was Aesir? Did that have anything to do with whatever criminal behaviour he had engaged in, whatever had left him dust and dead.

No, not dead.

She raised an eyebrow and, almost cruelly, changed her shape to become male. An easy enough transition, assured that she would mimic the other Loki perfectly for they were still one even if she had not met him.

"Have you no thought in your head that makes sense, my brother? No Jotun in the history of our realm has ever turned to dust upon dying, what you saw was nothing more than sorcery and illusion."

Loki of whatever gender and whatever lineage was cruel and made him feel so very alone. It was something everyone so easily had forgotten. Being raised so closely, being raised as siblings, had not always been easy. Loki was not Thor's only brother but he had never been anywhere but at his side for centuries. He had only recently been forced to sunder with his brother, three times in less than a decade. The first had been agony and then numbness. The second had left more rift than he would have liked. The third had skewered him straight through. He had not yet recovered. He did not believe it would ever be possible to.

And so seeing this Loki as he had been in his life left Thor angry and incensed. He grabbed the throat of the imposter and held her up like a hunting catch. "You will not play your games. He resides in Valhalla for the deed of a heroic death and nothing you can say will change that!"

Loki's sister was just as filled with fire as this one stood here but would she bellow such things to any upon Loki's death? Would she hold her memory so carefully? This Thor bled from wounds unseen. And this illusion had caused him much more distressed than could have been imagined.

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