To say Peter Parker was startled would have been an understatement.
Startled was missing a step in the dark.
Startled was having someone tap your shoulder when you were wearing headphones.
Startled was not standing inside a secret frozen medical chamber at eleven o'clock at night while the very blue, possibly alien man inside the ancient ice coffin opened his eyes and stared directly at you.
Peter had been busy trying to remember whether he had ever seen a blue man before.
News footage?
A science documentary?
One of Thor's stories?
Maybe an alien during the Battle of New York?
His memory had almost caught something when the man's eyes opened.
Red.
Brilliant, jewel-bright red.
They cut through the pale light of the chamber and locked onto Peter.
Yep.
Definitely an alien.
No human being had eyes that pretty.
Normal people had a fight, flight or freeze response when confronted with an unknown and potentially dangerous situation.
Peter had inherited a fourth option.
Say whatever humiliating thought entered his mind first.
The blue man's entire body tensed inside the fractured ice.
His gaze swept over Peter, Harley, Ned and Shuri in less than a second, sharp and calculating despite the disorientation behind it.
His fingers curled.
Frost spread across the edge of the chamber.
Every instinct in him appeared ready for violence.
He was assessing captors.
Exits.
Weapons.
Threats.
Then Peter Parker looked him straight in the eyes and breathed:
"Wow."
The man paused.
Peter's mouth continued without consulting the rest of him.
"Your eyes look like rubies. They're really pretty."
Silence.
The ice stopped spreading.
Behind Peter, Harley made a strangled noise.
Ned caught the back of Harley's lab coat before he could step forward.
"Don't," Ned whispered.
Harley looked at him.
"Why?"
Ned pointed discreetly toward Peter.
There was a familiar glazed quality in Peter's eyes.
His face had gone blank with horror, but his mouth had not yet realized the emergency.
Ned had seen this before.
Usually around attractive people, authority figures or anyone Peter desperately wanted to impress.
"He's lost the filter," Ned whispered.
Shuri caught on immediately.
Her eyes lit with delighted understanding.
She folded her arms.
"Let him continue."
"You're evil," Ned murmured.
"I am conducting an observation."
Harley looked back at Peter.
A slow grin spread across his face.
"Oh, this is going to be incredible."
The man inside the ice stared at Peter.
He had awakened prepared for pain.
Imprisonment.
Interrogation.
Perhaps execution.
Instead, a very young Midgardian wearing a laboratory coat had complimented his eyes.
His red eyes.
Red?
That was incorrect.
Loki knew his eyes.
Green.
They had always been green.
He was nearly certain.
The sincerity in the child's expression gave him pause.
"As much as I appreciate the compliment," Loki said carefully, his voice rough from disuse, "my eyes are green, my dear."
Peter did not stumble over the fact that the alien had a British accent.
He did stumble over my dear.
Colour rose rapidly across his face.
"They're not."
Loki's expression sharpened.
Peter fumbled for his phone.
"Wait. Here."
He opened the front-facing camera, leaned forward and held it toward the fractured surface of the chamber.
Loki looked at the device.
Then at Peter.
Peter moved it closer.
"Selfie mode."
Loki stared blankly.
"It shows your face."
That explanation was apparently enough.
Loki reached through the broken layer of ice and accepted the phone.
His hand was larger than Peter's.
Blue.
Covered in raised markings that curved over his knuckles and disappeared beneath the remnants of dark fabric around his wrists.
The moment Loki saw his reflection, he stopped breathing.
Peter's embarrassment faded.
The stranger stared at the screen without blinking.
The face looking back at him was his own.
It was also not.
Blue skin.
Dark ridges across his forehead, cheeks and chin.
Black hair tangled around his face.
Red eyes glowing against the cold light.
Jötnar.
The word appeared in his mind like a knife.
Loki's fingers tightened around the phone.
He remembered blue hands.
A temple.
The Casket.
Odin looking at him with grief buried beneath silence.
He remembered asking what he was.
He remembered falling.
He remembered pain.
Fire.
Chains.
A voice promising that he could still be useful.
The memories came without order.
Fragments of a life broken into sharp pieces.
Loki stared at his reflection.
This was what he actually looked like.
Not an illusion.
Not an injury.
Not contamination from the Casket.
Him.
Peter watched the blue stranger's expression empty.
The man did not look angry now.
He looked lost.
Peter knew that look.
He had seen it in mirrors after Ben died.
In Tony's face when he thought nobody was paying attention.
In Ned's eyes after too many hours spent pretending everything was fine.
Peter shifted closer.
"Are you hungry?"
Everyone turned toward him.
Peter's brain finally noticed that it had spoken again.
He attempted to recover.
Failed.
"You look hungry."
Loki slowly looked away from the phone.
Peter gestured toward the frozen chamber.
"Do you want to go eat something? And maybe get out of the ice coffin? It looks uncomfortable."
Peter wanted the floor to open.
He wanted Doctor Strange to appear and send him into the Mirror Dimension.
He wanted to climb onto the ceiling, crawl into an air vent and live there permanently without internet access.
Internet access would allow Harley to spread this story.
There was no possibility Harley, Ned or Shuri would let him survive it.
Friday was also recording.
Peter knew she was recording.
Tony would receive edited footage with subtitles, zoom-ins and possibly dramatic music.
The blue man looked down at the chamber surrounding him.
Then back at Peter.
Something shifted in his face.
Not trust.
Not yet.
But the tension around his eyes eased.
He returned Peter's phone.
"Thank you for the invitation, my dear."
Peter's ears turned crimson.
"However, unlike your assessment of my eyes, you are mistaken about the chamber."
Loki placed one hand against the blue ice.
"It was quite comfortable."
Harley leaned toward Ned.
"Peter flirted him out of a coma."
"I don't think it was a coma," Ned whispered.
"Does that make it less impressive?"
"No."
Peter heard them.
Peter wished he had not.
Loki pushed himself upright.
The movement was slow.
Far slower than he intended.
His muscles trembled beneath him, weakened by long disuse and whatever injuries had driven him into the Casket's care.
The ice beneath his hands receded.
Frost flowed away from his body in thin silver streams.
The dark chamber opened around him.
Loki swung his legs over the side.
His bare feet touched the floor.
For one unsteady moment, his balance failed.
Peter moved instinctively.
His hand caught Loki's forearm.
Cold rushed through Peter's palm.
Not uncomfortable.
Just surprising.
Loki looked down at the hand holding him.
Peter released him immediately.
"Sorry."
"You prevented me from falling."
"Still."
Loki studied him.
"You apologize often."
Peter opened his mouth.
Ned answered for him.
"Yes."
Peter glanced back.
Ned smiled innocently.
Loki stepped away from the chamber.
The Casket of Ancient Winters responded the moment his weight left it.
Cracks in the ice sealed.
The chamber folded inward with a deep resonant hum, returning to a smooth block of ancient blue crystal.
Loki watched it close.
His expression gave nothing away.
Then he turned toward the children.
Peter's brain began rebooting in pieces.
Names.
Names were normal.
Introductions were a social structure.
A social structure was something he could follow.
"I'm Peter."
He pointed behind him.
"The snickering hyena is Harley."
Harley had one hand over his mouth.
He waved with the other.
Peter pointed toward Ned.
"The one bending over because he's trying not to laugh is Ned."
Ned straightened immediately.
"I wasn't laughing."
"You were making dolphin noises."
"That could have been Harley."
"It was both of you."
Peter gestured toward Shuri.
"And the one who looks way too entertained by all of this is Shuri."
"Princess Shuri," she corrected.
Peter sighed.
"Princess Shuri of Wakanda."
Shuri gave the blue stranger an elegant nod.
Loki looked between them.
Four young people.
Three Midgardians and one Wakandan princess.
All wearing matching coats bearing their names.
None dressed like guards.
None behaving like trained interrogators.
Either his captors had become exceptionally creative, or these children genuinely had no idea who he was.
He chose caution.
Names had power.
His most famous name carried too much of it.
Fear.
Hatred.
New York.
Thor.
The Avengers.
He could not yet tell whether he was a prisoner, patient or weapon waiting to be reclaimed.
"Loptr," he said.
Peter smiled.
"Nice to meet you."
The ease of the answer startled Loki more than the compliment had.
No suspicion.
No recognition.
No fear.
Simply acceptance of the name he had offered.
Peter started toward the door.
"Come on. The kitchen's upstairs."
Friday spoke before he crossed the threshold.
"Peter."
Everyone stopped.
Friday's tone had changed.
It remained calm, but the calm had acquired edges.
"I advise against this course of action."
Peter looked toward the nearest camera.
Then remembered something.
"Oh. Right. Sorry."
He turned back to Loki.
"That's Friday."
Loki glanced upward.
The chamber contained no visible speaker.
"She's our guardian when all the adults are away," Peter continued. "And our big sister."
Friday was silent for one second.
Then:
"That is not an accurate description of my authority."
Harley shrugged.
"It kind of is."
"You routinely ignore my instructions."
"That's normal sibling behaviour."
"I am beginning to understand why Sir Whiskers finds you irritating."
Loki's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Friday is a person?"
"Yes," Peter, Ned and Harley answered together.
Shuri nodded.
"An artificial intelligence. Highly advanced, sentient and suffering terribly from prolonged exposure to this family."
"Thank you, Princess Shuri."
"You are welcome."
Peter looked back at the camera.
"Don't worry. We're just going to take Loptr upstairs, get him something to eat and find him somewhere comfortable to rest."
"I am concerned by every component of that sentence."
"Everything will be fine."
Friday had historical data regarding Peter Parker saying those words.
Everything was rarely fine.
"Peter, you have encountered an unknown individual inside a restricted medical chamber."
"He gave me my phone back."
"That is not an adequate security assessment."
"He could have stolen it."
"Peter."
"He didn't."
Ned raised a hand.
"He also hasn't attacked anyone."
"Yet," Friday replied.
Harley pointed at the sealed chamber.
"He woke up in a coffin and the first thing Peter did was compliment his eyes. I think we've confused him too much to be attacked."
Loki's mouth twitched.
Shuri noticed.
Peter did not.
Friday ran eighty-seven threat models in less than a second.
Loki was awake.
Loki had regained access to his Jötnar form.
Loki was mobile.
Loki was surrounded by four minors.
One of those minors had superhuman strength.
One was a Wakandan princess with concealed technology.
Two had demonstrated rudimentary magical ability.
All four shared Tony Stark's relationship with caution.
Friday did not like any of the variables.
However, Loki's body temperature, breathing pattern and posture indicated weakness rather than immediate aggression.
He had made no attempt to retrieve a weapon.
He had not threatened the children.
He had accepted food.
And Peter was already leading him out of the chamber.
Friday began composing a message.
The walk to the penthouse was surreal.
Peter led.
Loki followed beside him.
Ned, Harley and Shuri walked behind them in a loose cluster.
The lift refused to move until Friday completed three separate scans.
Loki looked around the glass and metal interior.
He concealed his reaction well.
The Tower felt different.
He remembered gold.
Noise.
The scent of alcohol and metal.
A man in a black shirt approaching him without fear.
We have a Hulk.
The memory struck hard enough that his hand curled.
The child beside him noticed.
"You okay?"
Loki looked down.
Peter's concern appeared genuine.
"I am merely disoriented."
"That makes sense."
No questions.
No demands.
No Where did you come from?
No What are you?
Peter simply accepted the answer and gave him room.
Loki did not know what to do with that.
The elevator opened into the penthouse.
Warm light replaced the sterile brightness of the medical wing.
The room smelled faintly of food, coffee and machinery.
Shoes had been abandoned near the sofa.
Schoolbooks covered one end of the dining table.
A robotic cat wearing a tiny crown stood on the kitchen island.
Loki stopped.
The cat looked at him.
Loki looked at the cat.
Sir Whiskers' optical sensors narrowed.
"Blue."
Loki raised one eyebrow.
The cat's head tilted.
"Suspicious."
Harley walked past them.
"Don't take it personally. He called Happy economically replaceable earlier."
"I called him chauffeur-adjacent."
"See?"
Loki watched the machine jump from the island.
"Is that creature sentient?"
"Yes," Ned said proudly.
Sir Whiskers looked at Ned.
"Mother."
Ned's face collapsed.
Loki glanced between them.
"Mother?"
"No."
"He made the brain," Harley explained.
"Peter made the body."
Sir Whiskers rubbed against Peter's ankle.
"Father."
Peter covered his face.
Loki stared at the children.
Then at the crowned mechanical cat.
Then at the ceiling, where the sentient intelligence called Friday was apparently watching everything.
Midgard had changed considerably.
Or Stark Tower had finally become exactly as chaotic as its owner.
Both seemed possible.
Harley opened the refrigerator.
"What do aliens eat?"
Peter winced.
"Harley."
"What? He's blue and woke up in ice."
Loki stepped closer to the kitchen.
"I am capable of eating ordinary food."
Harley turned.
"Any allergies?"
Loki considered the question.
"Not that I recall."
"That sounded concerning."
"It was intended to be reassuring."
"It needs work."
Shuri began opening cupboards.
Peter pulled plates from a cabinet.
Ned sat at the island with Tony's emergency expense card.
Tony had left the card for food, transportation and genuine emergencies.
Ned considered feeding a newly awakened alien a genuine emergency.
He opened a delivery application.
"What do you want?"
Loki looked at the screen.
"What are my options?"
Ned brightened.
"Everything."
"That is not useful."
"Chinese, Thai, Indian, Italian, Mexican, burgers, sushi, pizza, Korean, Greek, Lebanese…"
Loki stared.
Ned continued listing cuisines.
Harley started removing snacks from the cupboards.
Shuri found several containers of leftover rice.
Peter poured water.
Eventually, Loki held up one hand.
"Order what you believe is suitable."
Ned nodded solemnly.
"Dangerous choice."
He ordered enough food to feed fourteen people.
Using Tony's card.
Friday watched the total increase.
"Mr. Leeds."
"Loptr hasn't eaten in an unknown amount of time."
"That does not explain six desserts."
"Emotional recovery."
"Three portions of fried rice?"
"Physical recovery."
"Four varieties of noodles?"
"Cultural education."
Loki leaned toward Peter.
"Is he always like this?"
Peter handed him the glass of water.
"Pretty much."
Loki drank.
Then another glass.
Then a third.
Peter pretended not to notice how quickly they disappeared.
By the time the food arrived, Loki had been placed at the head of the dining table because it was the closest chair to the kitchen and because none of the children had considered the symbolism.
Containers covered nearly every available surface.
Harley distributed noodles.
Shuri claimed the spiciest dish.
Ned explained delivery applications.
Peter attempted to stop Sir Whiskers from climbing into Loki's lap.
Loki caught the robotic cat neatly with one hand.
Sir Whiskers stared into his face.
"You are cold."
"A remarkable observation."
"You have sarcasm."
"So it would appear."
Sir Whiskers settled on his lap.
"Acceptable."
Harley pointed with his fork.
"He likes you."
"I am honoured."
"You shouldn't be," Ned said. "His judgment is terrible."
"Mother is jealous."
Ned put his head on the table.
Loki looked around at them.
He did not understand this place.
He did not understand these children.
He did not understand why they had discovered a stranger sealed inside an ancient relic and responded by feeding him noodles.
Yet warmth spread through his body with every bite.
The food was too rich after so long without eating, but magic seemed to absorb it almost as quickly as he swallowed.
Peter kept quietly refilling his water.
Shuri watched him with sharp, intelligent eyes but did not interrogate him.
Harley talked enough for three people.
Ned asked questions about the structure of the Casket until Peter kicked him gently beneath the table.
For the first time since waking, Loki felt something close to safe.
Which meant, naturally, that everything was about to become complicated.
At Kamar-Taj, Tony Stark was seated beside Stephen Strange's bed when Friday contacted him.
Stephen remained unconscious.
His fever had dropped.
His breathing was steady.
The small crystal beside the bed continued pulsing in a rhythm Tony had been watching for far too long.
Pulse.
Pulse.
Pulse.
Tony had almost drifted asleep when Friday spoke through his glasses.
"Boss?"
Tony's eyes opened immediately.
"What happened?"
"I have an update regarding the children."
Tony sat straighter.
"Are they hurt?"
"No."
"Tower damage?"
"No significant structural damage."
Tony narrowed his eyes.
"That qualifier is doing suspicious amounts of work."
"The children entered a restricted area in the medical wing."
Tony closed his eyes.
"Of course they did."
"They discovered the Casket of Ancient Winters."
Tony's eyes opened again.
For three seconds, he said nothing.
Then:
"They found Loki."
"Yes."
Tony stood so quickly the chair scraped against the stone floor.
The medical sorcerer stationed near the doorway looked up.
"Where are they?"
"The penthouse."
"Where is Loki?"
"The penthouse."
Tony froze.
Friday continued.
"They are currently having supper."
Tony stared at nothing.
"Together?"
"Yes."
"Loki."
"Yes."
"My children."
"Yes."
"Eating supper."
"Yes, Boss."
Tony rubbed both hands over his face.
"Please tell me Thor is there."
"He is not."
"Vision?"
"At the Compound."
"Happy?"
"Left shortly before the children entered R&D."
Tony lowered his hands.
"How did we get from R&D to dinner with the god of lies?"
"The sequence involved a fainting intern, an unauthorized medical tour, Peter overpowering a security lock and a compliment regarding Loki's eyes."
Tony stopped.
"A what?"
Friday sent the camera footage to his glasses.
Tony watched.
Peter stared into the ancient chamber.
Loki opened his red eyes.
Peter said:
Wow. Your eyes look like rubies. They're really pretty.
Tony's mouth fell open.
The footage continued.
Loki corrected him.
Peter handed the newly awakened alien his phone.
Then invited him to dinner.
Tony watched Harley bend over laughing.
He watched Ned physically restrain Harley so Peter could continue embarrassing himself.
He watched Shuri observe the disaster with the focused delight of a scientist documenting a rare natural phenomenon.
Tony lowered the glasses.
Raised them again.
Replayed the footage.
"No."
Friday remained silent.
"My kid did not flirt with Loki."
"I cannot reliably classify the interaction as flirting."
"Thank you."
"However, Mr. Parker's heart rate increased by forty-three percent after Loki addressed him as 'my dear.'"
Tony stared toward the ceiling.
"I didn't need the telemetry."
"I believed it added context."
"Delete it."
"No."
"Baby girl."
"I have already secured a copy for the family archive."
Tony pointed at the empty air.
"You are becoming a bad influence."
"Sir Whiskers has been educational."
Tony returned his attention to the live camera feed.
The children were sitting around the dining table.
Loki, still in his blue Jötnar form, occupied the head chair with Sir Whiskers resting in his lap.
Peter was passing him another container of food.
Harley was talking.
Ned was explaining something with hand gestures.
Shuri watched Loki carefully but did not look afraid.
Loki looked exhausted.
Confused.
Wary.
But not violent.
Tony's fear eased by several degrees.
"Threat assessment."
"Loki has made no hostile movement. His vitals indicate significant weakness, mild dehydration and residual magical instability. He appears lucid but disoriented."
"Weapons?"
"None detected."
"Magic?"
"Present but subdued."
"Kids?"
"Uninjured. Relaxed. Entirely deficient in stranger-danger awareness."
Tony pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Understatement."
"He introduced himself as Loptr."
Tony lowered his hand.
"He what?"
"Loptr."
Tony looked at Loki through the live feed.
The blue skin.
Red eyes.
Unfamiliar stillness.
The careful way he studied every exit while pretending to listen to Harley.
Tony was too tired to unpack that.
Tomorrow.
Loki becoming Loptr was tomorrow's psychological catastrophe.
Tonight's catastrophe was already occupying a hospital bed.
Tony turned back toward Stephen.
Alive.
Breathing.
Not waking yet.
Tony felt stretched too thin to panic properly.
"Is Loki trying to leave?"
"No."
"Trying to access systems?"
"No."
"Threatening anyone?"
"No."
"Has Peter adopted him?"
"Insufficient data."
Tony looked sharply at the glasses.
Friday added:
"Probability increasing."
Tony sighed.
"All right."
He sat back down beside Stephen.
"Tell the kids to finish eating and go to bed."
"They are unlikely to comply without argument."
"Use the Dad Voice."
"Yours or Doctor Strange's?"
Tony considered.
"Merlin's."
"Understood."
"And offer Loki a guest room."
There was a brief pause.
"You wish to allow him to remain in the Tower overnight?"
Tony looked toward the live image again.
Loki had gone still while Peter explained how the food containers were labelled.
The children were not in immediate danger.
Friday controlled the Tower.
Every weapon system could be locked.
Medical scans showed Loki was barely stable enough to stand.
And despite everything Loki had once done, Tony remembered the broken body that had arrived in his Tower.
The torture buried under old injuries.
Bruce saying Loki's last thought had been Thor.
"Yeah," Tony said.
"Give him one of the rooms near the kids, but lock down external system access. Passive monitoring only. No obvious security measures unless he becomes hostile."
"Yes, Boss."
"Tell him he can stay tonight."
"And tomorrow?"
Tony looked down at Stephen.
Then toward the magical healing crystal.
Pulse.
Pulse.
Pulse.
"Tomorrow I'll deal with Loki becoming Loptr, my children collecting aliens like stray cats and Peter's complete lack of survival instinct."
"He does possess enhanced survival instincts."
"Not socially."
"No."
Tony leaned back in the chair.
"Wake me if anything changes."
"With Stephen or the children?"
"Either."
Friday's voice softened.
"Of course, Boss."
At Stark Tower, the speakers activated.
Friday addressed the dining table in a tone so precisely clipped that every child immediately recognized Stephen Strange's parental disappointment.
"Dinner will conclude in ten minutes. Peter, Ned, Harley and Princess Shuri will then prepare for bed."
Four heads lifted.
Harley frowned.
"That sounded like Doctor Strange."
"It was intentional."
Peter looked upward.
"What about Loptr?"
"Mr. Stark has offered Loptr a guest room for the evening."
Loki went completely still.
"Mr. Stark?"
Peter smiled.
"Tony. He owns the Tower."
Harley pointed his fork.
"And most of the stuff in it."
"Not the people," Friday corrected.
"Debatable," Ned muttered.
Loki's red eyes moved toward the nearest camera.
For the first time since waking, genuine alarm entered his face.
Tony Stark knew he was awake.
Tony Stark knew he was here.
And Tony Stark had offered him a room.
Loki could not decide which part was more concerning.
Peter nudged a container toward him.
"You should finish eating."
Loki looked down at the noodles.
Then at the four children surrounding him.
Then at the crowned mechanical cat asleep in his lap.
His life had become incomprehensible.
"Very well," he murmured.
Harley grinned.
"Welcome to Stark Tower, Loptr."
Friday quietly amended the Tower's overnight security protocols.
At Kamar-Taj, Tony rested his head beside Stephen's hand and decided the universe could remain unsupervised until morning.
That was almost certainly a mistake.