Chapter Text
To say that things at the Avengers complex were tense when the Asgardians arrived would have been the understatement of the century. The Avengers had finally found their way back to each other only to feel more divided than ever. Tony and Bucky barely spoke two words to each other, preferring to glare silently and hatefully across the living room.
Nat and Clint spent a lot of time side eyeing Tony as well, with a good dose of suspicion for Bucky thrown in as well, while Steve just looked constipated most of the time, and like he was fighting a losing battle with his temper when it came to Tony.
For Steve, it wasn’t just about Bucky, but that was a huge part of it. He was angry at what Tony had allowed to happen to Wanda and Sam and the others on The Raft. And it wasn’t that Steve didn’t understand Tony’s feelings, he just desperately wished there was something he could do change things, both for Tony and also for Bucky. Steve hated that he carried around so much guilt for things that he didn’t have control of.
The last time Loki had felt this overwhelming feeling of negativity was when he found himself captured aboard the Chitauri space craft before his failed invasion of New York. The negative charge to the air was like a prickling under his skin that had his magic tensing and him turning and hissing to Thor, “what the Hel happened?” He knew that even with his limited grasp on magic Thor would be able to feel the tension in the air.
Thor was excited to see his friends after such a long separation, but he couldn’t deny the foreboding feel of the air. Something was amiss.
“Greetings, Friends!” He tried for his usually level of cheer, but it most definitely fell flat. He’d briefed his friends the best he could from the Ark, explaining about the destruction of Asgard and Tony had taken time, along with the rest of the team to set up temporary shelters on the complex grounds, enough to house the remainder of Thor’s people until they could find a permanent home.
Loki disembarked shortly after Thor, wanting to give his brother time to greet his friends before having to reveal himself, not wanting to sour their reunion.
“Greetings Thor’s Midgardian friends.” He said softly.
“Ah, yes!” Thor boomed, this time with actual fondness, “I trust you remember my brother?” He addressed the group.
The only person standing on the lawn who didn’t recoil was large brunet man with an arm made of metal. Ah, that made sense, he hadn’t been around during the New York fiasco.
If Tony had rolled his eyes any harder they would have fallen out of his head, and in typical fashion just couldn’t hold in the snark “Excuse me,” he said waving his arms and looking around exaggeratedly, “I was just checking for Ultron, if we’re going for the hattrick of mass murdering serial killers.” The only indication that his taunt had hit home was a slight tightening around Barnes’ eyes.
Thankfully Thor broke the tension with his easy chuckle and small smile, “My friend! I see your tongue is as sharp as ever.” And proceeded to pat Tony on the back hard enough that he just about fell over.
The two Asgardians made sure to fill the rest of the team in on exactly what had happening, this time skipping over no detail until they had a group of slack-jawed Avengers on their hands.
Loki spent the following week phasing in and out of his pocket dimensions within the complex, trying to scope out what was causing the rift between the former friends before stumbling on a conversation between Steve and Tony.
“Would you please stop with the serial killer shit, Tony?” Steve was whispering, rather tensely.
“Hate to break it to you, Cap, but it’s not shit, your buddy actually is a serial killer. I’m just making sure he doesn’t forget.”
“Do you really think I’d spend my life with someone who killed without remorse?” Steve asked, and Loki could hear the familiar vulnerable-hurt in his tone.
“I think war changes people.”
“It wasn’t his fault.”
“My Mom is still dead.” The end of the conversation was short and sharp, with Tony glaring and Steve hissing between his teeth.
“You want me to eat shit over what happened to Wanda and Sam, fine. That’s on me. But tell me, Cap, are you even sure he’s sorry?”
Steve didn’t seem to have an answer for that, and Loki correctly assumed that Bucky still wasn’t great at the whole talking thing.
Loki found Thor later, standing on a balcony over looking the camp his people were making.
“I confess I find myself curious about the good Sergeant.” Loki told his brother. “I wonder what has befallen him before now.”
“I expect it’s much the same as what happens to any child sent off to war.” Thor told him, introspectively. Thor really had become far more insightful over the past few years. And that…was actually a good idea. Loki was quite displeased he hadn’t come up with it in his own-thought he’d never admit it.
If they hadn’t been in such dire straits, he was sure that he could have come up with a better plan, but they were six months from staring down the end of the world and didn’t have time for this family drama. Everyone likes kids. Most importantly, everyone trusts kids, because kids don’t lie.
Three days later in the middle of yet another tense team breakfast, the tension is suddenly broken but a tiny blur of brown and silver colliding with the back of Steve’s legs.
Steve had three whole seconds of satisfaction watching Tony choke on his coffee and stutter out, “Is-is that a tiny Winter Soldier?” All Steve had to offer is wide eyed shock, staring down at a pint size version of his best friend.