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Well, when this is all said and done, Nightwing will have one (1) consolation about seeing Peter run at a god with no other plan except for “kick his ass.” He will never forget the look of appalled terror on Loki’s face when Spider-Man picked up that hammer.

Absolutely priceless.

He’ll wish he could get it framed and hang it up in the BatCave with all the other Batsouvenirs. And when anyone comes to visit who actually pays attention to the collection they have (Clark), he’d get to tell that story every time. It’d likely cheer him up no matter what was going on.

(Even if Condiment King got out again. And that’s seriously saying something, because no one knows true rage until they have to get mayo and dried barbeque sauce out of their hair.)

Right now, though?

Nightwing’s heart drops straight out of his chest and goes around the world before returning to him again.

They’re now standing next to the house instead of the shed, which is much closer to the giant headache of paperwork in the middle of the driveway. (Nightwing isn’t looking forward to the damage report he’s going to have to write up when this is all said and done. Fuck this guy and his dramatics, because he did not need to create a whole new terrain in the middle of Nebraska).

He’s just far enough that he can see a portion of the top of the plateau, but not their faces. This is remedied by the pair of binoculars he grabbed off a shelf in the shed. This gives him a much better view of Loki’s scared-stupid face, and Spider-Man proving that he can and will speedrun giving Nightwing a heart attack.

Spider-Man can jump even higher than Nightwing thought he could. He makes easy and quick work climbing the side of the plateau, as nimble as his namesake. Even with the heavy hammer dragging him down, preventing the use of one hand, Spider-Man has cleared what might be 25 yards in just a few steps.

The hammer sparks when he gets to the top, pushing himself over the side. Loki had started scurrying backwards when Spider-Man took his first step, and it was just barely enough time to get some distance between them. Spider-Man thwips out a web to the ground and yanks his momentum forward to make sure this hit hurts when it lands. Like a comet ripping across the night sky, the lightning follows the arch of Spider-Man’s swing as it chases Loki down.

Loki plants his feet sturdy to the ground to brace for impact. Then, he cowers backwards, his form changing from swaths of long green and gold fabrics to… a tan man with short black hair, wearing an AC/DC shirt and jeans.

Spider-Man’s swing hesitates and he pulls back, but it’s too late to stop; something has to give. He changes the direction of his swing at the last second to hit the ground inches from Loki instead.

The very sky trembles in its wake, the dark clouds circling above as a bolt of lightning strikes down from the sky. Nightwing is almost thrown off of his feet from the impact of the hit. The house rattles at the foundation, and Alberta’s car alarm goes off in the distance.

Somehow not losing his footing, Loki’s fist drops along with his “cowering” charade and he swings low to punch Spider-Man’s stomach.

Using the hammer as his grounding point, Spider-Man flips over and deftly avoids the fist. He lands on his feet behind Loki, hammer in hand, and jumps back into a standing position to point an accusatory finger. Nightwing can’t hear them, but it’s blatantly obvious that Spider-Man is yelling at Loki for whatever dirty trick he just pulled.

Nightwing lets out a sigh of relief and leans one hand on the wall next to him. Spider-Man is alright, even if more pissed off than he was before. And honestly? Nightwing knows now isn’t the time, but… That was impressive, even if it didn’t land on the intended target. The maneuver to get away was something that Nightwing would pull off, but it was so fast that he could have missed it if he blinked.

“His form was perfect.” Nightwing nods to himself with approval. Pointed toes and everything, a flawless execution. Nightwing should really be getting more gymnastics practice in with Peter. There are so many family tricks that Peter could probably pull off…

“Seriously, Blue?” Flash puts his face in his hand. “I think I almost had a heart attack.”

To Nightwing’s surprise, they don’t immediately jump into another attack. Instead, Peter continues shouting at the god. Loki staggers back a couple steps as though a physical blow has taken place. He opens and closes his mouth a few times like a fish gasping for air, flabbergasted by whatever Peter is saying. Peter’s aggravation builds up, both hands waving around as he talks. Loki winces every time the hammer is pointed at him.

Nightwing is sorely wishing he had made Peter put a comm on at some point- but, well, when he had thought to have everyone else put one on, he was over by Thor.

“Supergirl, what’s going on?” Arrow asks gruffly.

“Loki turned into someone he knows.”

“I figured that, but what are they saying ?”

Supergirl pauses. “Do I really have to repeat it?”

“We should know what’s happening.” Nightwing offers, and that is definitely the only reason. Not because he’s also immensely curious. Supergirl sighs tiredly.

“…Well at first Peter started on about his inferiority complex being stored in ‘that big ass head of his’ and how he’s making it everybody else’s problem that his parents didn’t love him. And he’s now moved on to how Loki’s hair could start a grease fire in a desert. Ooooh, ouch- ‘You had to put on Tony’s face so I didn’t hit you because you know you’re that fucking ugly, seriously, that’s a face not even your mom could love.’ This is all said in the thickest New York accent I have ever heard in my life, so there’s some parts I don’t think I’m catching.”

Captain Marvel snickers childishly. Nightwing glares in Loki’s direction at the confirmation of just who he had turned into. He imagines Supergirl might have made it a little nicer because she didn’t want to repeat the vitriol in Peter’s voice. Nightwing doesn’t blame him for being angry.

(A distant part of his mind is trying to memorize the features of Tony’s face, as this is the first time that he’s seen the man. Conclusion: Tony’s face pisses him off.)

Nightwing was going to say that Peter might not need the pep talk he was trying to come up with after all, because verbally tearing down an opponent is the best therapy someone can get. (At least, for himself, it is.) However, the longer Peter looks at Loki- who is still wearing the other man’s face- the more Peter’s shoulders start to tilt like the hammer is growing heavier.

He can’t really remember, because it was so many years ago, but Bruce had him read up on all sorts of mythology when he met Wonder Woman. Thor’s hammer has a couple of conditions to it, doesn’t it? One of which being… confidence? He supposes that could be it, but the way the thought nags at him says he’s missing something. Admittedly, he had gone all in on learning Greek mythos, not Norse.

“I’m back!” Flash appears next to him, sans Haley. “The cutest dog ever has been left at the Manor. And your family’s sleep schedule is all kinds of fucked, so only Alfred was awake. He asked if Peter has been eating well.”

“…Um,” He thinks back on their meals so far. Pretty much a whole rotisserie chicken, a lot of fast food and diner food… He hopes Alfred doesn’t kill him for freezing those homemade meals. “Yeah.”

“Liar.” Flash reproaches, not bothering to hold back his amusement.

“Nightwing, what’s our move?” Arrow brings him back to his senses.

He grits his teeth in an effort to bite back the urge to go over there and help, plan be damned. As if reading Nightwing’s mind, Flash tenses and his feet shift, ready to run on his command. He wants to give the order to get Peter out of there, but…

“Nothing’s changed. Everyone’s orders stay the same.”

“Roger that.”

He’s never understood Bruce more than in this moment.

(Someone might need to erase this memory from his mind. Preferably, beat it out of him. At the very least, he’ll never say this out loud so that smug jerk can smile all softly and reminisce about times where Dick was far more insane than Peter was.)

Every emotional instinct in him says to drag Peter away by the scruff of his neck, ask why he thought this was the best idea, and make him run through a million logic puzzles to keep him occupied for the rest of his life. Or to at least make him study mythology from different places, and understand why gods are so dangerous.

While he understands how Bruce felt when he did something similar back in his Robin days, he also remembers how he felt when Bruce doubted him. All the times that he felt like he wasn’t listened to, it still sticks with him now. That’s why he pushes away that more selfish, emotional instinct in a moment where it’s not needed. And he listens to the more logical side of him that says that Peter isn’t an idiot, even if he can be reckless. He has to trust that Peter knows what he got himself into.

Outside of the panic that gripped him so suddenly, this was part of the plan. Just… not the way that it was meant to go.

Story of his damn life.

They have the advantage here. They have multiple powerhouse Justice League members gathered in one spot, all of whom have already been briefed on the situation at hand. Even with how powerful Loki is, they all know this fight won’t be easy for him. He wasn’t prepared for this battle to be so soon, and he certainly hadn’t accounted for the amount of people who had their attention on it. They don’t know how long he’s been in this world. Loki might have a basic understanding of all of their powers. But still, he’s not fighting any amateur JL members.

There may also be a factor of differences between worlds that could help. Watching Peter and Thor have a certain camaraderie, downright familiarity with each other, was a little jarring. In his world, it would be a very stupid idea to talk to a god as though you were on their same level. It reminded him of Peter’s notebook, and how a couple times Loki had been referred to as “God Alien Guy” and “God Alien Whatever.”

What he thought was just a weird nickname might have been more of a clue than he imagined. Peter not being sure if he’s actually a god or if he’s an alien with magic sheds some light on the situation.

So, keeping this in mind, Nightwing figured out their best course of action.

The plateau is the highest point considering the terrain is supposed to be plains. (He’s not gonna get over this annoyance.) Loki has already claimed the high ground, so Green Arrow needs somewhere to shoot that won’t put him at a disadvantage.

Nightwing had Supergirl lift Green Arrow into the sky. They’re circling above the fight now, prepared to provide air support. She keeps hold of the back of Green Arrow’s suit so he can’t fall, while he stands on her bent knee. She can also help him determine wind patterns, and with her even better eyesight, will be able to see things that Green Arrow can’t- such as any tricks that Loki may pull that wouldn’t be visible while on the ground. This also has the measure of keeping Supergirl occupied since she’s injured.

(Now, this doesn’t seem at all weird to him, because plenty of times when he was a kid, his parents and their friends would stand on each other like this during performances.

But Green Arrow and Supergirl both said that it’s weird. Which he doesn’t get. He figured Green Arrow wouldn’t like to stand on Supergirl’s shoulders while being so high up because it’s not as stable. If this works, then it works, what’s the fuss about?)

That leaves Captain Marvel as their heaviest hitter right now, the best match against Loki- save for Flash. When Peter went to check on Thor, Wally had informed him that Loki had already proven that he can keep up with Wally, or at least detect him in the speed force. That means that they can’t plan on Flash swooping in and incapacitating him in the blink of an eye.

However, with Captain Marvel, Flash and Spider-Man keeping Loki busy on the ground, and with Green Arrow firing from above, Loki won’t have much time to weasel his way out of this before Zatanna and Constantine can get here.

Which is what he’s deigned to do: harass Zatanna and Constantine’s communications to get their ETA and an explanation about that part of the plan.

Wally had snitched and told the others that Dick was injured from Black Spider, and that the stitches hadn’t healed yet. It feels like an insult, having to sit on the sidelines. He’s Nightwing, he’s been far more injured before and still got the job done even when facing higher caliber enemies.

He wanted to protest, but he’d been sincerely outvoted and he knows that they’ll make good on their threats to carry him away from the battle if he tries to enter it. Supergirl had argued it would be hypocritical of him if he fights and she doesn’t. He needs the trust of his teammates more than he needs to punch Loki, so he’s bearing with it.

For now. The second he sees they need his help, he’s going in.

(He’d told them that much. But Arrow had stared at him and said, “Didn’t you just say that we have this easily handled?”

So whatever. He’s sitting on the sidelines. Doesn’t bother him at all.)

And, well, someone needs to get into contact with Zee and the Bastard Brit and keep the others updated. If Loki ends up being a bigger threat to them, and they keep trying to hold out for Zee and Constantine thinking they’re just around the corner, someone could get hurt. They need to know if they have to pull back.

Dick’s plan doesn’t need any adjustments right now. Spider-Man was always going to be in the battle. It’s just…

Look. He could give everyone a goal, a desired outcome, and many suggestions on how to get to that point. He could position them on the battlefield to enhance the strengths of their abilities, helping to make up for any weaknesses they may have.

But how the hell would he have expected Peter to jump headfirst into a fight with nothing but his webshooters, an electric hammer, and a vendetta?

(Maybe vendetta is a dramatic word to use here. Thor is still alive, after all.)

…Hell, who is he kidding?

He knew Peter would do something. After the Black Spider fiasco, that much is obvious. Forget about the apple not falling far from the tree, Peter had somehow picked that apple himself.

Peter had taken on Loki as his own responsibility and Dick really isn’t that surprised. That’s the kind of kid Peter is. But he still managed to scare the living daylights out of him just now. Forgive his confusion on his emotions, he didn’t have the best example growing up.

(That was just as bad as when his siblings did something without telling him beforehand and Dick wasn’t close enough for backup. Especially when Damian pulled that on him when Bruce was believed to be dead and Dick was Batman.

That happened very often.)

This is why they have contingencies, why they have to think about every single possible way something could happen and still be prepared to adjust when they inevitably get an outcome that they should have seen coming. The best thing that Nightwing can do right now is give Spider-Man support.

And he has a sneaking suspicion that Loki isn’t actually trying to kill Peter. Peter had left an opening a moment ago, but Loki went for a punch instead of conjuring a weapon. Even still, Loki could just not talk to Peter now that he’s made his stance clear. But he’s not making any moves to fight first.

Nightwing puts up his binoculars again.

Reading lips is more of an art than a science because there’s so much room for interpretation, but he doesn’t need to guess that Peter is using very colorful language to describe Loki. Something is said by Loki that Nightwing misses, and then Spider-Man is raising his arm and shooting a web at Loki’s face.

Loki, not having expected that, grabs at the web without thinking and gets his hand stuck. Spider-Man bursts into laughter loud enough that Nightwing can hear him all the way down here. Flash stops mid-stretch and starts cackling with him.

Nightwing drops the binoculars. “Flash-” He stops, his gaze dropping downwards to Captain Marvel’s hand. He’s got his phone out and is searching Loki up on Abacus, scrolling through articles while muttering to himself.

Flash winces, still looking upwards, and Nightwing whips back around, his thought forgotten.

Loki’s face is free from the webbing and Nightwing catches the sight of green flames flickering out of existence. Before Loki can say anything, Spider-Man has crossed the distance between them. Loki ducks only a second before Spider-Man’s fist connects with his face.

“That’s our cue to get moving,” Flash pats Cap’s shoulder. “Race ya!”

Just like that, Flash is gone. Captain Marvel sputters in shock. “Not fair!” He complains to the empty air. He shoves his phone back in a suit pocket. He’s off like a shot, hot on Flash’s heels. Nightwing tries not to hold his breath in anticipation, instead getting his own phone out to call… Zatanna, he decides.

Definitely will not be calling Constantine, since that jerk-off hasn’t once responded to any of Dick’s multiple text messages or voicemails from before this all blew up.

Before he can even press on Zee’s contact, Flash and Captain Marvel have gotten to the top of the plateau. Loki was still preoccupied with Peter and hadn’t seen them coming- or maybe he forgot that they were there at all. So he’s not prepared for when Flash begins zipping around him, caging him in a circle of light.

Flash slows down just enough to make faces at Loki or flip him off, using his afterimages to do so. Nightwing hears Flash’s taunting laughter through the comms. His voice overlaps himself as if two or more people are speaking, asking Loki, “What’re you looking at?” and “Which one am I?” and “What’s with the stupid look on your face?”

Loki discards Tony’s image, scowling at Flash. Because he doesn’t know which Flash is safe to turn his back to, he cautiously spins on his heel. As Loki attempts to locate which Flash is the real one among the speeding images, Captain Marvel lurks above. He drops down quick, aiming his strike at the back of Loki’s head.

Unfortunately, he’s not so distracted that it would work.

Loki raises his scepter above his head and smacks it down into the dirt. A sphere of pulsing energy erupts from Loki. Flash loses his footing mid-stride and is flung towards the edge of the plateau. He digs his hand into the dirt to catch himself but the pressure continues to drag him.

Spider-Man races to catch him, keeping a hand or foot on the ground at all times to stick on, preventing himself from also getting thrown off. He catches Flash by the wrist before he can go over the side of the cliff.

When Captain Marvel is hit, he’s flung back up into the sky. He regains his equilibrium faster than Flash. He rights himself and shoots downwards to try again, one fist pulled back.

Loki ignores Spider-Man and Flash, facing Captain Marvel. A blinding white light breaks out from the ornate top of the scepter. Captain Marvel has no time to abort his strike. He tries to push through it, turning his head to the side. Nightwing flinches back and covers his own eyes.

Not before catching sight of a giant green fist breaking out of the light.

It hits Captain Marvel square in the jaw. He’s rocketed backwards again, but another fist grabs at his ankle before he gets too far. A giant foot stomps onto the ground, then another. An ungainly mass of a green giant spins on its heel, swinging Captain Marvel in a circle three times and then releasing him into the air like a hammer toss.

Captain Marvel slams into the ground far below, chunks of rock debris and grass thrown into the sky. The green giant bellows, stomping its feet and huffing like a pissed off dragon.

It stands at- what, 7 and a half feet? 8? Nightwing can’t tell exactly from the distance, but the creature is huge enough to tower over Loki. Its muscles bulge out uncomfortably, flexing as it clenches its fist in barely contained anger. Based on the height and weight, his guesstimate would be that the creature weighs at least 1,000 lbs. Beady black eyes scrunch closed, chest heaving and wheezing as though breathing hurts it.

His first comprehensive thought is “Oh shit.” Because he actually recognizes that description.

Nightwing finds his voice again, clicking Zee’s contact. “Captain, are you hurt?” The phone rings once, twice.

“Only my pride…” Comes the answering groan around the third ring.

“What the fuck is that!?” They’re close enough that Dick can sort of hear Arrow’s shout from above as well as in the comms. “I’m getting real tired of this fool summoning monsters out of thin air. The giant snake was bad enough.”

“It fits your color scheme, Arrow, why don’t you go up and talk to it?” Nightwing’s call goes to voicemail. He tries again.

Flash’s voice chimes in, “Peter says-”

“Are you serious? That’s the Hulk you were talking about?” Supergirl cuts in, her voice shrill in disbelief, having heard Peter without the comm. Flash clicks his tongue at the interruption. “In no way does he look like a doctor! And he’s not acting like one.”

Doctor? What does that have to do with- Ahhh. The pain scale conversation they had when he was too busy mourning the fact that Bruce was right about something. He can understand her confusion. Peter hadn’t explained to her about Dr. Banner.

Now, Nightwing doesn’t know much about the Avengers, as he and Peter have only briefly discussed them a few times in the wake of the whole “I’m your dead dad” conversation. But The Hulk had left a lasting impression when Peter had mentioned him in passing.

A sort of alter ego to the clever Dr. Banner, one made from an experiment gone wrong. An almost poetic metaphor for how anger can make someone feel like another person. But Nightwing has never been the literary type, that was always Jason.

What he had heard was that the Avengers had a loose cannon of sorts on the team. (He had not said that out loud in case Peter took offense to it.) Powered through anger and intense emotion, The Hulk is one of the strongest beings to exist in that other universe… as far as they know. The angrier he gets, the more intense his abilities become, and the more destruction he can leave in his wake.

“You’re kidding me.” Nightwing wants to hit his head on the wall he was leaning on. Suddenly, the very idea that this could have been simple is laughable. “Please say that’s a joke.”

“That’s the Hulk.” Flash confirms flippantly, unaware of truly how bad it could be if Loki had an accurate representation of this person. “Holy shit, what do you mean this guy is an Avenger? He looks like he belongs on the green bean cans. How’d he get here?” Spider-Man is crouched on the defensive, pulling Flash out of Hulk’s view. “Is he an illusion? No? …Cool. Cool cool cool. That’s fine, we can work with that.”

“What is he saying?”

“Hulk’s not the Hulk, but it’s also not an illusion.” Flash sounds like he’s shrugging.

“You mean it’s like a puppet?” Nightwing asks.

“Uh… Peter, is it like a puppet?” A beat of quiet. In the meantime, Nightwing tries a third time to call Zatanna. “He says ‘something like that, I dunno, I’m not a magic kind of guy.’ Well, I think you’re magical, Peter. Truly fantastic.” Nightwing lets an amused smile slip out in spite of himself. “Awww, that’s so sweet, you think I’m cool?”

“Is this really a conversation for right now?” Arrow cuts in.

“Who are you, of all people, to judge our conversation? Do you hate fun and joy, Arrow? Do you?”

A puppet… Perhaps Peter is picking up on something else about the being’s stature that they can’t see. Loki isn’t actively showing signs that he’s manipulating its every move, so it can’t be a puppet in a more literal(ish) sense. Nightwing has seen a lot over the years, including magic users creating beings out of materials like clay or rock, sometimes straw. The closest word for it would probably be “homunculus.”

It doesn’t sound too far-fetched that a trickster god would have that sort of ability on hand… but he hadn’t made it out of any of those materials, had he? It came from the light.

“Boy Trickster, can you tell the Hulk-Not-Hulk we’re nice?” Flash asks. A beat of silence, then Supergirl laughs at whatever Peter said. “Hmmm… No, I don’t think I want a rock lobbed at my head either. I’m too pretty for that.”

As if he had heard them, The Hulk suddenly raises both of his fists over his head. He roars, a sound akin to a banshee’s scream if the banshee was on testosterone. He breathes heavily, stomping around the plateau with trembling fists, looking for something to hit.

Nightwing understands why Spider-Man and Flash are playing keep away.

But Loki is, too.

The damn idiot is skirting out of The Hulk’s sight, cringing like he hadn’t thought this move through and doesn’t know what to do about it now.

“So you can’t even control your own spell, Genius?” Nightwing mutters to himself, squinting at Loki in the hopes it would make his head explode. What a great sign for how this is about to-

“HULK SMAAAAAAAAAAAASH !”

Finding nothing in its sight to break, The Hulk lifts up its arms and slams its fists into the ground.

All it took was one hit. The plateau cracks right down the middle; the earth lets out a haunting, gravelly groan. The half of the rock that Flash and Spider-Man were standing on begins to teeter backwards, falling at a rapid pace. He grabs onto Flash’s wrist, pulling him away from the edge as the rock falls. Spider-Man points towards Loki and there’s a distant shout over Flash’s comms, the words indistinguishable in all the chaos.

“Spidey, no- Wait, hold on-!”

And there it goes again. (Nightwing’s talking about his heart.)

Spider-Man lunges towards Loki, who had stupidly wandered too close to the spider laying in wait. Spider-Man wraps his arms tight around Loki’s torso and pulls them both over the side of the crumbling and cracking rock, into the debris. Flash curses, torn between staying to fight Hulk or going after Spider-Man.

“Sorry, Blue, I-”

“Don’t worry.” Nightwing says. He’s talking to himself more than Flash. “He’s stronger than he looks. Keep on The Hulk until Captain Marvel can get back up.”

-

Admittedly, Peter went into this hoping that he’d be cool, calm, collected, and badass.

Because he talked his shit, and anyone born in New York knows that he can’t drop the ball now that he’s made that promise. Otherwise, he’d look like a chump, and he should pack his bags to stay the hell out of Queens.

(And it’d be sick if his first impression for Dick’s other friends was of a Spider-Man who actually has his shit together.)

His goal for this fight is Thor’s goal for this fight: revenge on Loki. It’s not Peter’s issue that he’s trying to resolve, this is Spider-Man picking up where Thor left off. All of Peter’s frustrations with his own personal situation is for him to bother Thor with when this is over. The Avengers answer for the Avengers, and Loki answers for Loki. Simple math, and Peter’s a genius who had decently competent role models before they died.

But then Loki had turned into Tony. The first time Peter’s seen Tony’s face in over a month.

And then had the nerve to say, “Oooh, swing and a miss.” when Peter turned Mjolnir’s track somewhere where it wouldn’t bash Tony’s face in.

All bets on him being cool, calm, and collected went out the window right then and there.

Now the fight has gone from one goal, to two goals: 1) Finish the fight for Thor and 2) Make sure Loki knows not to get smart with him ever again, lest he taste the ultimate fury of a teenager with anger management issues.

Oh, three goals. 3) Get Loki to surrender and apologize.

“I didn’t miss this time, shitbag.” Spider-Man shouts over the wind as it howls in his ears. He lets go of Loki and twists around, kicking his foot into Loki’s shoulder blade. He grabs one of the horns on that ugly helmet Loki’s wearing, and pushes his face into the cliffside.

Loki whacks at the back of Spider-Man’s head with the end of his stupid scepter. When that doesn’t work, he kicks the cliff face, and pushes his head backward against Spider-Man’s strength. Spider-Man digs his toe into his shoulder blade.

“That hurts, you little brat!”

“That’s the point!”

Tons of rock and dirt hit the ground below them, making it hard to hear what Loki says next. careful! hisses his spider-sense, at the same time he spots a blur of energy around Loki’s hand. It’s just like with Wanda; his enhanced eyesight allows him to see magic energy, like a heatwave.

So, fuck, that means Loki is casting a spell. Spider-Man rears back, unsure what the moron is about to do. He accidentally brings the ugly helmet with him.

“Oopsies.” Spider-Man throws it to the side, and it disappears into the chaos of falling rock.

“You could have just given it back!” Loki casts an energy blast, pushing them away from the cliffside.

Spider-Man grabs onto Loki’s coat, refusing to let his grip loosen as they spin in the air. Loki decides to remedy that by turning into a bird, for some God-awful reason.

A large wingspan flaps in his face, feathers covering his view of the fast-approaching ground. The falcon, of all birds, that Loki turned into, digs its razor-sharp claws into Spider-Man’s arms and screeches in his ear. Which is probably a curse in bird language. Spider-Man blanches when he sees a tear in his jacket sleeve.

“You asshole, I’m borrowing this!” He lets go of Loki to inspect the tear.

Wait, that was a bad idea. Loki is now free.

Unfortunately for Loki, and fortunately for Spider-Man, it’s not like it’d be easy for any bird, magical or otherwise, to get out of this mess. The rock is falling around them and he can’t get any proper wind underneath his wings.

STOP FALLING!

They’re getting uncomfortably close to the ground. Loki flaps around uselessly, crying out over the commotion. He turns back into himself when he believes that he’s finally out of Spider-Man’s reach, but it’s a no-go. Spider-Man snatches his ankle and drags him down with him.

Before they can smack into hard ground and call it goodnight for good, Spider-Man tucks Mjolnir into his pocket, handle first. Which only barely works, the heavy side of the hammer threatening to tip out. With that hand now free, he thwips a web to a stable part of the cliff face.

His arm yanks uncomfortably when the web pulls taut, but he succeeds in swinging over to the cliff and planting his feet to the side. Loki swings back around with flailing arms, smacking face first into the cliffside again.

Loki spits out some rock, his face fairly uninjured despite the attack. His hair is disheveled and wild, but that’s about it, save for a good few scratches. He opens his mouth to make a joke, but Mjolnir slips out of his pocket.

He lets go of the web, sticking his feet to the cliff. He catches Mjolnir just before it can go crashing to the ground below. He stands up, holding Mjolnir in one hand and dangling Loki by the ankle with the other.

“If I didn’t know you were already there, I’d make a joke about you almost hitting rock bottom.” Spider-Man laughs. Loki flails his arms around, kicking at Spider-Man’s hand more like a toddler than a powerful sorcerer.

“Put me-!”

“Down?”

Loki realizes his mistake. “Wait, no-”

Spider-Man does as he’s (not) asked. He drops Loki down the remaining way- a few feet, at most- and Loki falls on his back in a puff of dirt and long tangled cloaks.

“Now I’m definitely making a joke about-”

“Will you shut your mouth!?” Loki rages, scrambling back on his feet. “You’ve done enough talking for this fight!”

“Unsurprisingly, I only hear that from my most annoying of enemies. Some people actually know how to take a joke.” Spider-Man drops onto the ground. Above them, they can hear Fake Hulk continuing to smash the plateau down with ferocity. Loki glances up nervously, but Spider-Man knows that for now, they’re not in any danger…

Rephrase: They’re not in any danger of being crushed. Loki is still screwed.

They’ve landed in a pocket of debris, almost like a cave. There is unstable rock above them on both sides like ceilings, casting them into the dark. The only source of light comes from the gray sky filtering through the opening that they fell into, or through tiny cracks in the stacked rock and chunks of dirt on the sides.

Fake Hulk roars again when Loki goes to speak, drowning out his voice.

“What was that?” Peter cups a hand over his ear.

“I said that jokes don’t usually get that personal.” Loki hisses, more annoyed that he had to repeat himself than actually being frustrated by the content.

“Oh, my bad, were you offended that I said you’re acting like a knock off Regina George?” Peter asks, making sure his voice is dripping with mock sincerity. Loki clenches his fist around that scepter, glaring daggers at Peter. “It’s almost like you betrayed your brother because you have a bone to pick with the Avengers and got me stuck in an alternate universe!”

“Do you want me to say that I am sorry!?” Loki shouts back.

“Yes!” He throws his arms out. And now Peter and Loki are both baffled. Loki because he didn’t expect that, and Peter because he thought it was obvious. The problem is: “But would you even mean it?”

Loki hesitates. Peter growls with frustration, but he figured this much. It’d be too easy if Loki apologized after only two minutes. But mark his words, he’s going to convince Loki before this is over.

He just has to beat him up first. For Thor.

“And that’s exactly why-!”

“No no no, do not yell at me! It depends on what I am saying sorry for.”

Peter narrows his eyes. That’s still not right. “It depends? Are you looking me in my eyes and saying, with full seriousness, that it depends? That’s your answer?”

“Well…” Loki squints, clearly wondering if this is a trap. “…Yes?”

“Dude!”

“Look, am I sorry about planning revenge on the people that made a fool of me? No, never. In fact, I thrive off of it.” Peter rolls his eyes and groans. “Am I sorry that I got Thor out of the way in a slightly unconventional way? No, not really, because he was going to be a pain to deal with. Am I sorry about hurt-”

Spider-Man launches himself at Loki with the hammer drawn back. Loki curses and bends backwards, nearly dropping to the ground and barely missing the weapon. The electricity crackles and skims his face during the swing. Loki yelps in pain and rights himself again, clutching at his nose.

“What was that for!?”

“What do you think!?”

Spider-Man doesn’t lose his momentum, continuing back around in a circle. He jams the hammer hilt into his stomach. A burst of lightning sparks out of the hammer and strikes Loki, flinging him backwards. His back slams into the debris and makes a Loki-sized crater in the dirt walls.

He slaps a hand over his mouth. He hadn’t meant to hit that hard.

Loki climbs out of the crater and drops to his feet, holding his stomach with a wheeze. Spider-Man shakes off his surprise, standing taller and demanding, “I want to know what Thor could possibly have done to make you do this to him.”

cracked

Loki, still bent over and clutching at his side, looks up at Spider-Man with an unreadable expression. The hitched breathing agrees with his spider-sense. Loki felt that hit more than he’s trying to let on. He goes to ask if he is okay, but he stops himself.

“That… is none of your business.” Loki breathes out, leaning on his scepter.

Peter sputters with indignation. “None of my- You made it my business, dude! Like, it’s super all my business!”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Loki hisses. “You’re just a child.”

“Wh- I’m fourteen! That’s practically an adult.” Peter argues. Loki raises a dumbfounded brow at him.

“Now my perception of human years is definitely off, but you haven’t even hit triple digits.”

“Oh shut up, you’re just old!”

“Not really.” Loki shrugs. “Maybe by your infinitesimal human standards-”

“The only thing here that’s infinitesimal is your-” Loki shouts over him as though scolding a pet that destroyed something. “-What!? What? I wasn’t gonna say that! I was gonna say your brain!” Loki squints at him in disbelief. “I was!”

“Sure, if you want to believe that, then you can.”

“You are making it super hard to want you and Thor to make up.” Loki scoffs. “Just tell me, man!”

Loki’s lips press in a thin line. He refuses to look him in the eye. “I have nothing to say to you.”

He growls with bitter exasperation, clenching his fist at his side. “Fine. I guess I still need to drill this lesson into your thick skull before we can talk.”

Mjolnir’s power surges through him once again, filling him with strength he’s never felt before. A crackle of energy starts at his hand around Mjolnir’s handle, swoops down into his stomach, and then rackets around in his chest.

Another blur of magic energy wraps around Loki, then a light bursts out of his hand. A giant, silvery shield emerges in front of him, blocking Loki from sight. Three fish are etched into the metal, circling around the center: a single four pointed star.

The hammer strikes against the shield with a clang. Sparks fly outwards, catching on Spider-Man’s sleeve and his cheek. The metal groans and a crack splits down the middle of the fish. It dissembles into nothing as fast at is was summoned.

Loki puts considerable distance between him and Spider-Man before swiping the top of the scepter into the dirt in front of him. A geyser of running water bursts out from the ground.

jump!

He leaps into the air, sticking to the bottom of the debris above them. The gushing river shoots out one way, taking over the spot where Spider-Man was just standing. The roar of the current drowns out any other noise, save for the distant cries from the Fake Hulk above them.

What, did Loki know that Spider-Man’s not that good of a swimmer? Then again, no one would be with how rageful this water is. It spits up at him, the mist just out of reach.

Irritation grates at Spider-Man as he sees Loki scampering away, desperately searching for a way out. Boulders and chunks of dirt prevent a clear exit on all sides. One way to get out would be to go up; climb the cliff side in the one open spot they had come from. The other way out would be to squeeze through the cracks between the debris, but they’re very small and one wrong move could make the whole thing come toppling down again.

Loki turns into a little black mouse.

He blinks down in surprise, but it hits him what he’s trying to do: fit into one of the cracks between the dirt. Spider-Man rolls his eyes and heaves a big sigh. He’s getting pretty tired of the shape-shifting.

“Isn’t it supposed to be cat-and-mouse, not spider-and-mouse?” He runs along the underside of the debris, keeping a sharp eye on Loki. The god squeaks in reply.

Likely deciding that being a mouse is too slow and the water will get him if he’s not careful, he turns into a cat instead, running as fast as those little legs can carry him to one of the gaps that might be cat-sized.

“That’s still not it.” Spider-Man chides over the roar of the water. “Try turning into a fly!”

He swears Loki shoots him another pissed-off look over his cat shoulder, but that might just be his dumb cat face.

look it????

Something is weirding him out. He takes another cursory glance around the area. The water level is rising on one side, the mist reaching upwards. His skin prickles with the vibrations in the air- he can feel where Loki is, he can feel the thuds from the fight above them. But what he can’t feel? The mist from the water.

His gaze slides over the dirt once more. He might hear and see the water rushing, but he’s not feeling the movement of anything there. He reaches out to touch the mist for confirmation, but it’s just out of his reach. Still, though, he would feel the vibrations, if they were there. And yet, nada. Nothing.

It’s another damn illusion. Why? He knows Loki can summon actual elements…

catch up- go for it!

Spider-Man reaches the edge of the debris he’s running on. He crouches into a quick runner’s start, preparing to jump over Cat Loki’s head and get in front of him to block that exit. But there’s a spark of yellow and red light, a familiar hello! and then Cat Loki is skittering to an abrupt stop, his path blocked.

Flash smiles down at Loki, hands on his hips. He’s got a bruise blooming on the left side of his face that wasn’t there before, but he’s standing tall.

“Leaving the party so soon? What, we bum you out too much? Killed the vibe?”

Cat Loki hisses at him.

The water crashes into the other side and comes splashing back at Flash and Loki. Flash’s eyes widen like he hadn’t noticed the wall of water on the other side coming at them until just now. Loki turns back into himself, and uses Flash’s momentary distraction to his advantage. He swings the scepter out at Flash.

Spider-Man misses what happens next.

There’s a funny looking blur around the two, then Flash is on the other side of Loki, his hand outstretched like he’d made a grab for something. Loki, on the other hand, has pulled his scepter far out of someone’s reach.

Now that’s a good idea. Spider-Man should have thought about getting that thing away from Loki. Albeit, he was more focused on knocking some sense into him.

At the same time, whatever spell Loki had cast hits a different mark: the rock behind where Flash was previously standing. An invisible blade swipes at the dirt with a crunch. Flash, now much closer to the water, flinches as it comes crashing down on him. Instead of sweeping him up in the heavy current, the water dissipates upon touching him like it was never there.

He stands there for another second, visibly holding his breath. He opens his eyes and blinks at the now empty air. Flash releases the breath, confused, and then he realizes what happened.

“Oh.” He straightens and clears his throat. He laughs, swiping a hand across his forehead in relief. “And here I thought Spidey was just gonna let me drown.”

Spider-Man tilts his head. He… hadn’t even thought to tell him that the water wasn’t real. He’s not used to working side by side with another vigilante, let alone someone like the Flash. So far, his only interactions with the vigilantes in this universe are the Bats, who don’t typically need an intervention.

“Oopsies?” Is all he can offer. “Sorry, my bad.”

“A little warning, next time?” Flash shoots him a thumbs up. Spider-Man sees Loki shift his weight, ready to run again.

“Yeah, I’ll try.”

“Do, or do not, there is no try.” Flash quotes at him, using the worst impression of Yoda that he’s ever heard. Spider-Man smiles.

There’s almost a dance to the fight now: Spider-Man and Flash on the offensive, Loki on the defensive. That rising irritation starts to build up again as he continues trying to brute force his strength, accommodating for Mjolnir. All of his lessons with Steve ring in his head about knowing how to put weight behind each hit for maximum damage, keeping his center so his weapon won’t drag him down.

And yet… it feels wrong. Not morally- he knows that Loki can take it. But it’s like he’s stepped into somebody else’s shoes. He wanted to do this with Mjolnir because Loki is powerful, and he doubts that he could do this with his own strength. But it’s so unnatural to him, after holding back for so long.

Flash cuts in whenever Spider-Man gets pushed back or distracted, either by black smoke filling his vision or a swarm of birds grabbing at his clothes to drag him away, or more vines trying to pin him down. Not to mention that the blur around the magic makes it hard to determine what Loki is about to do. When Flash attacks, it’s not the same. Loki doesn’t use parlor tricks or distractions, he uses that sharp invisible blade, or real fire, or he summons throwing knives.

Why is he treating Spider-Man different?

The irritation clicks into place. Loki’s either not taking Spider-Man seriously, or Peter has yet again missed something.

miss- grab- near fast watch it!

More vines!? Spider-Man flips away from them as they burst out of the ground, attempting to snatch at whatever limb or clothing piece they can find. He flips back to his feet as a vine skims his arm.

There’s a schink! noise, and Flash yelps in the background. Spider-Man whips around, distracted, and sees multiple sharp spikes protruding from the ground in Flash’s running path. A vine grabs his wrist and tugs him down. He rips his arm out but another vine yanks at his foot. He falls forward, catching himself with his palms out.

Another, another- Every time he gets himself free from one spot, more vines reach up from the ground to grab him again. They just keep coming, more and more, until it’s most of what Spider-Man can see.

He needs something sharp, but- does he have anything…? No, he doesn’t have anything on him. He only has Little Legs clinging to him somewhere in his clothes, and like, some of Wally’s pocket change he meant to give back. Can pennies cut vines? …No.

You do have something sharp.

Oh, shit. He forgot. He runs his tongue along the back of his front teeth. He hasn’t figured out how to do the whole… fang thing without pushing his teeth forward with his fingers. Does he, like, feel the danger? That sounds stupid. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to imagine the fangs like they do in movies.

…

Nope, didn’t work.

He rips one hand free from the vine and, ignoring the taste of plant that got under his fingernails, he hooks his thumb behind his gum. He grimaces when he pops them into place.

Are the fangs even useful for this? …He’s about to find out.

It’s still out for debate if they’re fangs or pincers, or a secret third thing. But whatever they are, they’re sharp and hard enough that when he bites into the vines he can reach, they rip effortlessly. It frees his other hand and he quickly starts yanking away at the vines on his legs.

Peter spits out the plant. “Well, that’s not something I expected to do ever.”

watch it stop!

He looks up, startled by the ferocity of the direction. He’s forced to sit there uselessly as a pulse of energy hits Flash, forcing him back hard enough that he tips over off balance. Flash tries to catch himself but Loki raises his fists- two vines break from the earth and wrap around his ankles tight enough that Flash shouts. His head cracks against the ground, and he falls still.

Peter forgets how to breathe.

No no no-

Flash’s hand twitches. Slowly, he pushes himself up on shaky arms. He kneels on the ground, a pained groan escaping him. Blood flows down into his right eye, and he tries to rub it away, but instead manages to smear it. Peter feels a cold fear wash over him.

Karen’s face is unrecognizable with all the blood and concrete-

“Wally!” Peter manages to shout. Wally straightens up in an instant, searching for Peter in a panic. Relief crosses his face when he finds him still in one piece. Wally stumbles to his feet, flashing Peter a big smile. It’s a little crooked, blood leaking down his cheek and lips.

“Hey, it takes a lot more than that to keep me down.” He jokes. He must see something in Peter’s expression because he adds on a little more seriously, “I’m okay, I promise.”

Right. This isn’t- This isn’t then. Wally’s not…

They cringe back as the same bright white light from before erupts through the dark space. Peter squints through the pain, kicking at the vines and finally managing to get free. Three shapes drop out of the light and onto the ground. Before they can materialize like the Fake Hulk, one more puppet appears. That puppet darts forward at the others; the shapes of light converge on themselves. Then, they disappear faster than they showed up.

“What was that?” Spider-Man asks, but he knows. “What did you just do?”

“Why would I tell you that?” Loki sneers at him.

“Because it’s polite. Did your mom not teach you manners?” Flash retorts, running at Loki again.

Loki raises his hand. A thick layer of frosty ice blankets the ground, traveling up the walls and ceiling. A chill breeze sweeps over Spider-Man, sending a shiver down his body. Flash curses, losing traction and starting to slip.

Spider-Man takes up the charge, running at Loki and intending to hit him in his stomach where he left an opening.

Instead, Peter’s body seizes in a glitch.

The pain hits him all at once. A scream rips from Peter’s lungs and he falls to his knees, the multicolored light overtaking his vision. Mjolnir drops at his side, cracking the ice. The shards dig into Peter’s hands and knees and he tries to cling on to that pain instead, but then his hand clips through the pieces, jerking to the side like it’s broken.

It’s almost worse than the last time, because he hears booming voices, all indistinguishable, overlap each other and drill into his skull. One voice cuts through the noise- “How are you feeling, Peter?” The bright colors take over his sight completely and he can’t see outside of himself- only a dark, dark black void looking back at him.

The glitching stops abruptly and Peter comes back to himself, bent over with his forehead pressed to the ice. He clutches at the fabric over his pounding heart.

“-ter!” Flash is shouting in horror. “Peter, are you okay!?”

His whole body is shaking uncontrollably. Peter sits up, attempting to breathe normally again. His chest hurts, almost burns. Loki stands in front of him, frozen in place and staring at Peter with a completely blank expression. Reeling from the pain, Peter’s gaze drops down to the scepter hung in Loki’s loose grip, almost dropping from his hand.

Spider-Man jumps up and shoves his weight into Loki, knocking him over.

Loki hadn’t even tried to stop him this time, either too dazed or too uncaring, or too lost in his thoughts- no matter the reason, Spider-Man doesn’t care. They both crash onto the ground, the scepter clanging against the ice and flying out of Loki’s grip. Loki snaps out of whatever shock he was in, pushing Spider-Man away, but he refuses to let go. He wrestles with Loki, pulling his hands out of reach of the scepter.

“Grab it!” He screams to Flash. Loki elbows him in the face and Spider-Man punches him.

Loki grits his teeth, and to Spider-Man’s infuriation , refuses to hit him again.

Flash is there in an instant, though his foot slips on the ice when he appears in front of them. He reaches down to snatch the scepter up. Loki shouts for him to stop, reaching to take it back. Spider-Man’s eyes widen when the scepter glows in Flash’s grip, changing form-

dange-

There’s a tug at the back of Peter’s jacket and he’s lifted up.

In the blink of an eye, Peter finds himself face to face with the wall of debris. His legs had instinctually kicked up to stop himself from smacking into the rock, so he’s scrunched up like he’s about to jump. His hands are wrapped around Flash’s arm, which is wrapped around his torso, holding him up.

Peter blinks. What the what?

How’d he get here? The way they’re positioned, it’s like Flash had caught him, not thrown him or been the one to drag him away from Loki.

“You good?” Flash mutters, pulling him away from the wall.

“Uh, yeah?” Peter keeps his feet up, too confused by the sudden movement to say much else. Then he realizes that Flash is carrying him and he puts his feet on the ground. He wiggles out of Flash’s hold and dusts off his jacket.

?????????

A stranger stands in front of Loki across the way, crouched with his fists up and glaring at Flash. He’s got blazing white hair that’s swept back by the wind, matching bushy white eyebrows, a scowl on his face. He must be from here, because he’s wearing a suit that Peter doesn’t recognize: deep blue and white, with a large lightning bolt extending from his shoulder and across his chest diagonally.

Except- “Who are you?” Flash asks, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. So Flash doesn’t know who he is either?

Loki laughs bitterly, getting himself back to his feet. Peter, secretly, feels a bit of guilt seeing that it’s difficult for him. (This is what had to happen, Peter. He reminds himself.) He holds onto his ribs, a red bruise quickly blooming on his cheekbone where Spider-Man had punched him. “Quicksilver,” He says, pointing at Flash with a wiry finger. “Get that back.”

Shit.

It’s another speedster.

He matched Captain Marvel with the Hulk, so what’s stopping Loki from making the other Avengers? There was one figure that was so fast that it disappeared before they could get a good look at them. And then this just now?

“Run!” Peter yells. Flash startles. “Go! Don’t let him get it!”

Flash hesitates. No doubt, he doesn’t want to leave Peter alone. He wishes he could tell Wally that he’s used to fighting alone, that he’ll figure it out and not to worry about him.

Instead, he says, “Loki can’t get that back! It’s not the source of his powers, but it’s definitely amplifying them! Go, please, I’ve got this!”

Flash tightens his grip on the scepter, which has now changed into an embellished golden spear, a charm swinging at the end of the tight rope woven around the hilt and blade.

“Fine.” Flash agrees refluctantly. “But I’m calling your dad.”

“What?” Peter frowns.

“What’s this got to do with his dad?” Quicksilver asks.

“I don’t care how strong you are, and I also don’t care that Loki apparently doesn’t want to hurt you-”

“Where did you get that idea?” Loki interrupts. “I’m fighting him.”

“No you’re not.” Peter snaps.

“-you still need backup, and you’re a kid.” Flash talks over them. “So I’m letting him know what’s going on.” He jabs a finger at Loki. “If he gets here and something has happened to Peter, I promise you he’ll figure out how to kill you.”

“I’d like to see him try.” Loki huffs at the supposedly preposterous idea.

“Oh yeah? With that confidence, it’ll be easier than I thought. Where do you want to be buried?”

“We’re not killing anyone!” Peter cuts in. That is not one of his three goals.

“Because they couldn’t.” Loki nods like he’s agreeing with Peter.

“Because we don’t kill!” Peter glares at him. Loki shrugs and makes an ehhhh motion with his hand.

Flash ignores them, brandishing the spear at Quicksilver.

“Alright stranger, let’s see what you got.” His smile turns wicked and confident, itching for a challenge. “Race you for it! Loser gets sent back to his puppet realm.”

“That’s assuming you win.” Quicksilver shoots back.

“Yeah, that’s ‘cause I will. Keep up, would you?”

Then they’re both gone, leaving Peter and Loki facing each other, bloody and beaten on both sides, with Mjolnir in the middle.

-

Flash is ordering food in Rome.

“I’m kind of on a time crunch, here. Ah, yeah, hero stuff, the usual. You know how it is. Oh, you don’t? That’s alright. Oh, shoot, I gotta- look, I’ll come back around to grab this when it’s ready. Here’s the money. Uhm… give me 10 minutes. I’ll make this quick.”

Kara decided to check on him when he came on the comms to tell Dick what is happening with Peter, and that he had to leave their range because he’s somehow gotten into a race with a speedster they haven’t heard of before.

She wishes she hadn’t, because now Kara is hungry and dreaming about the feast she’ll get to demand when this is all over. Greek sounds amazing right about now… for no particular reason or bias.

Kara pushes aside her want for any kind of food and lays Thor back onto a rock, trying to find an angle where it won’t hurt his neck. She settles for letting him slump backwards rather than tilting his head forward. Thankfully, there’s not a scratch on him.

The Hulk has done a number on this place in such a short time. The plateau is now mostly rubble on top of more rubble, the Hulk seeking out to punch whatever is in front of him. Flash had been helping Captain Marvel keep Hulk at bay, but eventually his worry about Peter took over and he pulled out to go find him. Kara had put Green Arrow down (seriously, Nightwing, that was so ridiculous) and ran to help.

Eventually, Hulk had destroyed a chunk of the plateau and it went crumbling down in the direction where Thor had passed out.

She had rushed to his side, obviously. He was the only one incapable of getting himself to safety at that moment, so she acted as she should. Besides the strange first meeting, Kara has the impression that he’s an alright guy, and it would be a bummer if he had gotten more hurt. For both his sake and for Peter. (Not that she wouldn’t have saved him either way.)

Though, she isn’t sure if it would have mattered or not. She’s not well versed on what would or wouldn’t kill a god from Peter’s world.

The plateau now resembles much shorter, much less smooth, slot canyons. Three sections of the plateau had fallen, splitting as they went down and then breaking further when they smacked the ground. These sections had created dangerous passages of rocks that could fall down at any moment. Some look like tunnels, with roofs created by rock and dirt, and some look like walls, separating the areas in an almost maze-like scene.

Kara stands on the outside of this debris, right where the once nice driveway had met once undisturbed, grassy yard. The plains stretch out behind her, a dusty and cold wind whistling by.

She can hear Captain Marvel mumbling under his breath that he needs a nap when this is all over. She agrees with him. She wants a buffet of her choice, and then the option to knock out for… 25 hours sounds nice. Maybe longer.

It looks like his fight with the Hulk had moved from the top of the plateau to down on the ground in the minute she’s been away, though they’re on the far side. Nightwing and Arrow have decided to go looking for Peter together, she can hear them in the rubble headed towards where Flash had told them he’d be. She holds still, listening back for Peter.

There’s… no movement from either him or Loki.

She decides to push through the headache turning into a migraine and she switches to X-ray vision to look for him. She sees Peter and Loki on the other side of the plateau, Peter sitting on the ground and Loki just standing there. Nothing is broken for Peter, but Loki has a few cracked ribs. Neither are trying to attack the other. Which is a good thing, but Kara still feels uneasy.

Well, in any case, she wouldn’t want to be Loki when Batman finds out about this. Whatever entrapment that Zatanna and Constantine came up with is probably easier to deal with than a pissed off Dark Knight that loves his kids and distrusts magic.

She turns back to Thor. Perhaps the best place to put the sleeping god is inside of the farmhouse. From what she remembers there won’t be any furniture to place him on so he can be comfy, but it’s better than him being left out in the open again.

Kara scoops him up with her good arm, lifting him by the Hello Kitty shirt. Thor makes a snrrrk noise and she grimaces. “Oopsies. Alright, buddy, I’ve got you. Let’s get you somewhere safe, yeah?”

She doesn’t imagine that he can hear her at all, but some comfort is better than none.

A shift of a shoe on dusty rockface.

Kara tucks Thor over her shoulder and she kicks off to dodge diagonally, away from the rock debris. A blur of red, white, and blue slices the air where her head had been. There’s a harsh thunk of metal meeting ground.

She hadn’t heard this person coming. Or maybe she hadn’t noticed because she was so focused on the others. It startles her to see how close they had gotten when she wasn’t paying attention. She wills herself to relax, and take stock of herself and her surroundings.

She’s still injured from the lightning strike. One arm is useless to her at the moment, every small movement sending sparks of pain from her fingertips to her lower back. Her leg also feels slow, but it’s manageable. Thor is incapacitated and needs to get somewhere safe.

Kara shields Thor with her body. Maybe she could hide him in the long grass behind her? There’s enough field where he can lay and probably not be spotted. If she took the time to bring him to the house, her opponent might have the time to slip away and surprise her again when she gets back.

Hidden in the shadows of the rock, a figure stands above her. A man? She thinks so, based on the stature.

A man with no heartbeat, the same as the Hulk puppet.

“That’s not a very gentlemanly greeting.” Kara chides. “You should mind your manners.”

The man jumps down from the rock, boots meeting ground. He lands in front of his weapon- a sleek metal shield with red and white circle, and a white star on a blue center. The man himself is wearing a suit she doesn’t recognize. He keeps with the same color scheme, a white star prominent on his chest. The suit is padded, but not nearly enough to be a reason for the amount of bulk he has. There’s a capital A on the forehead of his cowl. He has blue eyes, crinkled in a kind smile.

“Sorry then, ma’am. But you have something there that I need to get back.” His eyes glance over to Thor. “Might you hand over my friend?”

Kara can’t help but raise a brow. His accent feels a little old timey, something like she’d hear from a movie about Earth’s pastimes. Annoyingly, the man reminds her of Clark just a little bit because of his polite tone. That smile would be comforting if she was on his side, but spells danger as an enemy. Though Clark hadn’t gone all in on an American… theme… of all things…

She can’t help but laugh. She stands up, and the man kicks the shield up into his hands. “You’re Captain America.”

He tilts his head. “You’ve heard of me?”

“Yeah, Spider-Man might have mentioned you.” Granted, it was because of that ridiculous pain scale, and Kara had half imagined he was joking. “Okay, I have to admit, I’m a little curious now. I thought Spidey was pulling my leg. What’s with the theme? You a real patriot or something?”

“Something like that. I’ll ask again, could you hand him over?”

“What for? I didn’t think Loki would want to stick around him much longer. Surely he would have slithered away by now all riddled with guilt, right?” She can imagine that if Loki actually wants Thor, it’s not for good reasons. He probably wants to shut Thor up and keep hiding his plans from Peter. Thor might know something more that could ruin any chance he thinks he has to get Peter on his side.

She wracks her brain for any idea of something Peter might have mentioned about Captain America, even something that was said in passing- what his powers are, his story, his personality, maybe. But she can’t think of anything besides his name. She hadn’t thought to rush Peter for that conversation. She was going to bring it up when they got to Friendsgiving instead, make it an icebreaker if things got awkward.

“I don’t believe that’s any of your business, ma’am.” Captain America reminds her gently. Kara doesn’t fool herself that he means that kindness.

“It is now.” Kara can see him tightening his hold on his shield. She needs to get Thor out of here. “I don’t know what kind of consciousness you have there, Captain, but I believe your real self wouldn’t want me handing any of your people over to Loki. So I’m afraid I have to decline.”

Captain America’s smile fades, growing disappointed. When he shakes his head, one hand on his hip, he looks like a mother that heard their kid was getting into trouble and she didn’t want to have to punish them. He sighs, throwing out one hand in a ‘what can you do’ motion.

“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this. But, if you insist.”

Captain Well Mannered crosses the space so fast that it startles Kara for a moment. She hadn’t expected that kind of speed from him. She grabs Thor by the collar of his shirt and shoots up into the air, searching for a spot to put him down. She settles on dropping him on top of the most stable, highest rock she can find. Captain America changes course lightning-quick.

She settles Thor down on his side, and she apologizes for the semi-rough landing. She whips around just in time to block Captain America’s blow to the back of her neck, catching his hand with her good arm. She pushes him back, but he slams the shield into her face twice.

Baffled, Kara grabs his arm and pulls back to look at it. Somehow, the shield hadn’t dented upon meeting a Kyptonian’s skull. What is that made of?

She stands up and chucks him off the side. He falls down the rock debris that’s almost shaped like a big staircase, looking like the world’s weirdest slinky toy. He rights himself through the momentum in a back flip, standing up like it didn’t even wind him. Kara shakes out her good hand. His hit actually manages to sting Kara’s skin where it landed.

It’s not often that she gets a hit from someone that actually sort of hurts. It’s a testament to how strong this guy is, she might have underestimated him even if she was being cautious. How many of the Avengers hit as hard as he does? The Hulk might… she doesn’t know any others. No, shit, she does know one more. Does Peter hit this hard?

…Nah, that couldn’t be. He’s strong, but he’s a kid and she hasn’t seen or heard anything about if that was possible.

Shaking the thought away, Kara kicks off and flies towards him, her shoulder hitting his stomach and ribs. He wheezes, the wind knocked out of him this time. She shoves him into the dirt with all of her body weight. His back slams into the ground and she hears some of his ribs snap under the pressure. She sits up and raises her fist to punch him. But then she feels his hand clasp around her bad arm. He flips them over to put her face in the dirt, a shoe on her back that pinches the already injured nerves.

Kara screams in pain. Captain America digs his heel in, attempting to keep her down. Like hell. Now he’s officially pissed her off.

She fights through that pain, her every nerve alight like she’s been lit on fire. She knocks him off balance and his foot slips. She twists herself around and kicks him in the face. He stumbles to the side. As she gets to her feet, Captain America throws the shield again. It clips her right in her lips and teeth, but bounces off easily.

He crosses the short distance and punches her stomach. She swings her good arm around and clocks him in the jaw. There’s a sickening crunch and his head turns sharply to the side. But Captain America himself doesn’t let out any noise. He only stumbles with the blow. In the time that it takes him to face her again, Kara has grabbed his shield from the ground.

She doesn’t know how it’s supposed to be used, as she doesn’t typically have to bother with this. So she throws it like it’s a frisbee, with all of her strength behind it. It connects with his face like he had hit her. As soon as it hits, Kara flinches back from a burst of light.

It’s so bright that she has to blink it away for a few more seconds, the afterimage of Captain America’s shadow burned into her retinas. She’s left in eerie quiet.

When she looks back, there’s no sign of Captain America or his shield. The only proof he was here are the scratches in the rock and dirt from their attacks. She breathes heavily, cradling her arm and leaning on her better leg.

Supergirl is the last one standing.

It certainly wasn’t the craziest fight she’d had- nor did he really get close to injuring her, but its left a lasting impression. She doesn’t know what to think of Captain America. He was kind of cute, if anything? But she wasn’t too impressed with his fighting ability. Not nearly as deserving of the admiration that Peter had when defending his silly name.

She lets herself take a moment to breathe. Shit, she’s a little worse for wear right now because of what happened with Thor. Oh, Rao. Clark, Kon, and Jon are gonna hover. With it being so hard for them to get injured, when it actually does happen, they get all mother-henny. She pauses mid-thought and glares at her arm.

Ma Kent isn’t gonna be happy about this. She shivers. That’s scarier than anything else she’s ever faced.

Despite the pain, she can’t help but smile with satisfaction. She did pull off that move with the lightning better than Clark did, and one-upping her cousin always puts her in a good mood. And her objective is alive, still sleeping soundly-

Or not. There’s a rattled cough from above. Kara flies up to see that Thor has turned himself over. His arms shake as he tries to lift himself up, not managing to get more than a couple inches. He stills when he sees her feet touch down, a short intake of breath the only sign that he’s apprehensive. She drops to her knees in front of him, one hand out to show she’s not a danger.

“Hold on, don’t panic. It’s me, Kara. Supergirl, remember?”

“Parkerson’s… friend.” Thor grunts like the word is foreign to him.

“Yeah.” She would correct and say that technically, she’s his aunt now, because they might not be blood related but she and Dick are that good of friends. But they have more important matters to get to at the moment.

Kara reaches out tentatively. When Thor doesn’t flinch away, she grabs his shoulder and helps him sit up. It’s clear on his face that he’s still not really awake yet, his eyes glazed over like he’s in a dream. He squints at the rock debris, mouth open in a grimace, his blinks slow.

“Where are we?”

“Um, about thirty yards from where we were before.”

Thor stares in incomprehension.

“Same place that we were before you passed out. A lot’s happened in a few minutes.” Kara fixes her wording. Thor rubs at his eyes with one hand, grunting again. Kara gets it- she’s never been one for words the moment she gets up. “Loki’s got some pretty serious magic there, huh?”

His face twists with pain, and not the physical kind that Kara’s feeling. He shutters a breath and his expression shifts into resolve, a forced impassivity. He hangs his head in shame, setting both his hands on his knees. It doesn’t hit her that Thor is bowing until he says, “I’m sorry for this mess.”

It’s not the best idea, but Kara laughs. Just a little bit. Thor lifts his head, squinting at her as if determining if perhaps he’s dreaming or if she’s actually crazy. She might damn well look crazy right now, with as much as she’s been through today. It’s just that the idea- it tickles her, a little bit. Gives her a good chuckle.

“Don’t you worry about a ‘mess’. We’re just as used to it here as you guys are. Or, well, I’m not sure what it’s like in your universe, could be tamer or- or worse. Hopefully not worse, that would suck. I don’t think it’s worse, because Peter is pretty ok, all things considered. Unless he’s just really good at compartmentalizing?” She’s rambling, and Thor is barely trying to pay attention. Back on track! “I just mean that this is pretty tame compared to half of what we’ve been through.” She lets out another chuckle, but she doesn’t like to think too long and hard about that part.

“Still, I should have- I should have done more. I should have stopped him before he could drag you into it.” His fist clenches, and he vehemently hisses out, “I should have stopped him before he dragged Parkerson into this.”

“Whoa, my guy, it’s not like you made Loki do anything.” Kara wants to add more, but Thor is shaking his head and she doesn’t know if it’s her place to say anything at all.

“I was too weak. It’s my fault that this has gone on as long as it has.”

Kara holds back a few choice words about if he’s tried therapy. It looks like family drama is still as deep cutting in their universe as it can be in Kara’s. “Ok… I don’t quite understand what’s going on with your brother or what issues you have,” She gestures to him. Thor catches the motion despite his state and squints at her. “-but we’re happy to help.”

He’s still exhausted, struggling to keep his eyes open. “That’s… kind of you.”

“Eh, we try.”

“…Why?” He asks warily. Thor’s gaze, what she thought was just extreme tiredness, borders on being suspicious of her.

“What do you mean, ‘why?’” Kara questions back.

“Why would you help me? I am not one of your people.”

“Does that matter?” Did Thor forget the part where it looks pretty clear that he was held captive for a while in a space between their realms and slowly driven mad by possible hallucinations? Which pretty much paints a picture in her eyes that Thor’s not the enemy here? She doesn’t imagine he could have possibly have forgotten that.

Thor grunts, his only reply.

Kara tries not to let it show that the notion was ridiculous. She probably doesn’t succeed. “You’re one of Peter’s people. That’s good enough for me.” Kara doesn’t quite know about other members of the Justice League, but she doesn’t want to piss off Nightwing’s kid, of all people.

Thor is quiet for a couple beats. Kara lets him think, since it’s probably taking a lot of brain power and pushing through a headache to get his thoughts coherent. “He looks different from when I left.”

“Who- Loki?” Kara asks. Thor shakes his head. “…Peter?”

“Yes.” Thor nods. “How long has he been here?”

“Um… about a month? I believe? You’d have to ask him or Dick about that.” Kara offers.

Thor is quiet again. His face slowly scrunches up the longer that he thinks to himself. Eventually, he drops that train of thought and he lets out a weary sigh. “A month makes sense.”

“Sense for what?”

“For him to make friends.” Thor answers like that should be obvious. “The boy befriends the villains that he regularly puts into prison. So, an entirely different universe? Why not? I suppose I should thank all of you for taking care of him.”

“Oh, you should be thanking his dad for that, not me.” Kara’s only gotten to meet him twice, and both circumstances were not optimal.

“And what of Loki?” He asks, his voice growing hoarse as he holds back another cough. “What is your plan?”

“Catch him?”

Thor blinks at her slowly. “…Anything else?”

“We’re working on that part.”

“Catching Loki is harder than trying to catch smoke.”

“You would know?” Kara raises a brow. Thor suppresses a smile, pointing at her with a shaky hand. She huffs with amusement. “Well, it’s not like we have another choice. This is the best plan we’ve got for now.” Kara reminds him.

“Why would you not have another choice?”

“…Peter’s pretty insistent that you’d be sad if something happened to Loki, even if you’re fighting right now.”

Thor slumps his shoulders, scoffing. “…Parkerson doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” But there’s something soft, there, like he isn’t surprised by Peter’s heart.

“Hmm, agree to disagree. I think he’s a pretty clever kid.” Kara shrugs. Thor glances at her a weak smile tugging on his lips. “In any case, he’s handling it for you. And we’re trying to follow his lead while we wait for some folks who have a shot at catching him.”

Thor’s smile drops, something akin to panic crosses his face. “Parkerson is fighting Loki? That- He’s dangerous. Loki has- everything that he is responsible for- He could get hurt. You can’t-” A cough wracks through him, cutting him off. Kara pats his shoulder. She peeks through the layers of muscle using her x-ray vision, and spots a couple of ribs that need mending. Nothing life-altering, which is good. “You should have stopped him.”

“I dunno about that one. You should have seen him. Loki looked ready to stain his pants, and Peter hadn’t even hit him with that hammer yet. And he had some choice words- I’ll tell you, no one is meaner than a teenager. I don’t know how Loki managed to stay standing after some of what was said. I would have been done for if someone told me I look like a stag beetle.”

Thor’s brows scrunch together. “Hammer?”

Kara hums in affirmation. “Yeah, he’s using your hammer. Hope that’s alright.”

For the first time since Thor saw Peter, a wide, beaming smile takes over his whole face. That panic washes away into relief. He laughs, slow at first, and then the chuckle becomes a hearty but tired guffaw. He slaps his hand on his knee, glowing with what Kara would call pride. “Don’t you know it? That’s- That’s a good thing, that is. When this is all over, I shall have to treat him to many drinks!”

“Non alcoholic, right?”

“Does that matter here, too?”

Kara mentally notes not to let Thor get that opportunity. She goes to tell him that yes, duh, that matters, a 14 year old can’t drink alcohol, what planet is he from? But Thor lets out a wheezing cough, then another, and another. Until he’s doubled over himself and he’s struggling to keep his eyes open again. Kara lets him lean his weight on her shoulder.

“Hey, I mean it. Don’t worry about what’s happening here. We’ll take care of everything, I promise you. You just rest up and let us take care of you, alright? A friend of Peter’s is a friend of ours.”

“Friend of a friend.” The god nods. “Goder-hele, Supergirl.” He mumbles, and promptly passes out again. Kara moves him off of her shoulder to lay on the ground, but she loses her grip and he smacks his face into the dirt.

“Oh shit.” She freezes. Thor’s chest rises with a loud snore, not waking up, thankfully. She sits in the silence, replaying what he said. “Gopher what now?…Whatever that means.”

-

“Slow down, would you? Who lit a fire under your ass?”

“You getting creaky knees in your old age, Arrow?” Nightwing retorts back. “Can’t keep up with the youth?”

He slips through an almost too small gap in between debris, his shirt catching on the jagged edges. It’s a good thing he discarded his jacket back at the house. The extra fabric would have made this much more difficult. It’s years of discipline that keeps him from hissing in pain when the movement tugs on his stitches.

Arrow scoffs and follows him through the gap. “You’re getting too old to be making those jokes, Nightwing. I’m sure the kids Robin’s age are going to start making fun of you soon. I, for one, will cherish that moment.”

Nightwing pointedly doesn’t say that this already happened, and that it was Peter who made the joke. Several times now. Because that would make Arrow delighted, and he refuses to let that happen.

He grabs onto a ledge, tests the stability of his handhold, and then pulls himself up. This reminds him about the rock wall Bruce had made for him when he was Robin, deep down in the Batcave. Had Peter gotten to see that, yet?

A minute ago, Flash had given him the general description of the area that Peter and Loki are in, but that doesn’t mean that it’s easy to get to. It was very quickly apparent that the debris isn’t stable. One wrong move would have literal tons of rock falling on top of them. They found a way through that wouldn’t get them crushed to death or suffocated, but it’s taking longer than Nightwing would like because they have to go around the far side and approach from above.

He and Arrow had already been well on their way to going to find the two before Flash commed in, but now there’s an urgency to their search. Arrow had disagreed that he come along because of his injuries, but he couldn’t do anything to stop him. Especially not when Flash said there were three unknowns, and he’s got the fourth distracted across the world right now.

Nightwing hasn’t seen any of these enemies yet, but if Loki is able to summon one of them, he can expect that there are more copies of the Avengers lurking in the shadows, intending to cut off anyone trying to approach where Peter and Loki are.

Just the idea that Peter is alone right now is setting him on edge; he wants to get to Peter sooner rather than later. There is no telling what Loki could be saying or doing right now.

The impatience is getting to him, despite Bruce’s voice in the back of his mind telling him, “Impatience will make you sloppy, Robin.” Then again, he can think of several times where Bruce got sloppy because of his own panic when any of the Robins were fighting alone. So Bruce can shut the fuck up.

“Nightwing, seriously.” Arrow cuts through his thoughts. Nightwing finds his next handhold and then looks over his shoulder. Arrow has his arms crossed, frowning up at him. “Take a minute. You’re bleeding.”

Bleeding? He looks down at his chest, the most likely culprit. Sure enough, there’s a faint red line across his shirt. The bandages underneath are probably much worse for wear. He shrugs. “Eh, nothing I can’t handle, you know.”

Arrow sighs, grumbling under his breath about ‘God damned Bats.’ “Yeah, I’m sure it isn’t, but you know what? How ‘bout we take it easy anyway?”

“Taking it easy isn’t going to help us right now.”

“Because we lost eyes on Loki and Peter?” He sounds skeptical.

“Hm.” Nightwing grunts back, continuing to climb.

And now Nightwing can hear in his voice that he’s not even bothering to hide an amused smirk. “Okay, was that a ‘duh?’ I’ve worked with Batman for a while now, but I don’t think I’m as fluent in Bat grunts as you are.”

“Are you saying that I sound like B?” Nightwing stops climbing to glare at him over his shoulder.

“You said that, I didn’t.” Arrow holds his hands up in fake surrender. “But really, kid, if you think Loki gonna get away now that we’re not looking at him, then he’s probably already gone.”

“Not if he’s not done with Peter.” Nightwing turns back around, keeping one hand on the rock but using the other to point at Arrow below him.

“And what’s that mean? I thought we were distracting Loki so he doesn’t leave, not that he was a threat to your kid.” Arrow points out. “Look, I’m only a little well versed on the Klarion and Loki situation, Nightwing. I mean, I just found out that Peter exists and that he’s apparently connected to whatever was happening on an entirely different continent. I need you to slow down for me, just for a minute. What are we worried about exactly?”

Nightwing hangs there, trying to understand Arrow’s point of view. However, he’s never been one to slow down and take it easy. It’s a nasty Bathabit.

“The short version is that Loki has been messing with Peter for a while and pretended to be his ally. What I’m worried about is that Loki might have another trick up his sleeve to make Peter come to his side. Or he might view Peter as a liability. Thor is, too. Either of them could figure out how to get back to their home universe, and mess up his plans by alerting the Avengers to what’s going on. They know too much for him to just slip away without trying to stop them.”

“Alright, you have a point there.” Arrow puts his hands on his hips. “I’m guessing that the Avengers are their Justice League?” Nightwing shrugs. Maybe a much smaller version of the Justice League. Arrow nods, mulling this over. “So… Loki is trying to kill Thor and Peter?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Nightwing shakes his head. “At least, not right now. Either way, he’s dangerous and I want him captured. For good. He’s put Peter through enough hell with all of this crap.”

Arrow falls quiet with thought. Hoping that he’s done now and they can get back to it, Nightwing starts climbing up again. He’s almost to the top when Arrow clears his throat.

“Stop. Come down here.”

Nightwing squints at him. Arrow has one hand on his cocked hip, the other pointing at the ground. That won’t do, they don’t have time for this. “Arrow-”

“Get down here, would you?” He says, more insistent.

Nightwing groans. He’s really not going to drop this until he listens, isn’t he? “Fine.” He gripes. But since Arrow hadn’t said how to come down, and because Nightwing is feeling like an asshole, he releases his handhold and jumps down from the very top. He does a double flip mid-air, and drops in front of Arrow, who is pinching his brow. The dust barely kicks up under his feet, because he’s no amateur.

Nightwing holds his arms up, awaiting applause. Arrow, instead of complaining like he would have once upon a time ago, claps. “Thank you, Nightwing.”

“You’re welcome.”

The other man disregards his petulant attitude, looking him right in the eye. “This must be some impressive kid, if this schmuck is going through all of this just to have him as an ally, right?”

He’s clearly getting to a point here, which Nightwing isn’t a fan of. Arrow has a proud smile on his face, the one that shows his age when he doesn’t have his mask on, his eyes crinkling around the edges. Nightwing can’t help but smile back, yet he’s a little surprised that Arrow is this happy for him.

“Yeah, he is.”

Arrow pats his shoulder, squeezing tight in reassurance. “Then stop panicking, would you? And let me check those bandages before you hurt yourself? I get it, I really do, but you’d be of no help if you’re bleeding all over the place.”

Nightwing rolls his eyes. “I told you, they’re fine.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it. You’re taking up more time arguing with me about it.”

When he was Robin, Batman had drilled into his head that when he was going to be even semi-vulnerable while out in the mask, he had to check his surroundings. Anyone could get the drop on him if he focused all of his attention onto a wound, or checking his belt- anything, really, that forced them into multitasking. He’d been endlessly annoying and vocal about that annoyance about it back then, but it’s saved his ass more than once.

So that’s what he does now, at just the idea of letting Arrow check his stitches. Nothing sticks out to him, and so he sighs, reluctant still. “Fine. But make it quick.”

Begrudgingly, he takes off his shirt to reveal bloody bandages that would have Alfred and Dr. Thompkins in a fuss. They should have been redressed a couple hours ago, but he wasn’t going to let Loki talk to Peter alone. The popped stitches barely sting, but that might be the high pain tolerance.

“I hoped you would have grown out of being bossy.” Arrow pretends to sigh back at him. His brow furrows when he sees the amount of blood soaking through the stark white. “How’d you get injured, again?”

Nightwing hums, searching for the right words. “Trying not to commit murder.”

“Bet your dad was happy about that.” Arrow mutters under his breath, reaching for the bandages to check underneath.

A slice appears in the top of Green Arrow’s hand from knuckle to knuckle, thick blood spurting out from the wound. He shouts in pain and stumbles backwards. A sleek black arrow thunks into the dirt a few yards away, a line of blood following it. It’s unrecognizable as one of Green Arrow’s.

Green Arrow uses his other hand to grab his bow, already headed for cover. Nightwing slips a throwing knife out of his pocket, zeroing in on where the arrow had come from and tucking back against the wall. He doesn’t see anybody there because of the dark shadows, but from the position of the rocks, the only way out would be to come towards them or to back out a narrow path.

He throws the knife when he sees the smallest glimpse of a reflection of light. Before it can get halfway there, another throwing knife cuts through the air and knocks his away with a loud clang! He darts his gaze up where it came from, over the side of the ledge he was climbing.

Nightwing has only a second to throw his arms up in defense before a shadow drops down on him, a pair of black boots slamming into his forearms. He pushes his arms out, knocking the attacker’s center off and forcing them to flip backwards. He chucks two throwing knives at the attacker but they miss, collecting in the dirt.

The attacker silently lands on her feet a couple yards away. She has curly, deep red hair and a deadly expression, the glint in her eyes as dangerous as the glint of a knife. She’s gorgeous, but Nightwing is far more preoccupied by the parts of her appearance that tell him she’s a potentially lethal threat.

She wears a black tactical suit that resembles something that he and his family would wear, which shows she’s practical and smart, and likely without any significant superpowers. She wields dual batons and has gauntlets on either forearm (which make Nightwing miss his escrima sticks and his suit, hidden in a compartment under the backseat in his car). She has two glocks strapped to her thighs and a grappling hook connected to her belt, which bears a belt buckle with a telltale black widow symbol, just like the spider.

It’s not hard to draw two and two together from there. An easy grin spreads across his face. “Black Widow, huh? So you’re the one who trained Peter. Or, a copy of her, anyway. Man, Robin’s not gonna be happy that he missed this.”

Black Widow- Natasha, he remembers Peter calling her- narrows her eyes at him, but otherwise her expression is impassive. “Where is Thor?”

Oh, how Nightwing hates to be proven right. Thor definitely knows something Loki doesn’t want him telling Peter.

As far as he knows, Kara is with Thor. “Where he needs to be. Want to leave a message so I can give it to him later?”

“That won’t be necessary.” She replies. “We will find him eventually.”

Shit, what does he have on him? A couple of smoke bombs, a bola, part of a lock pick set (he doubts that would be useful to him right now, but he never knows), two more Wing-Dings (but he could easily retrieve the throwing knives he already threw), his phone, his car keys, and a lollipop.

Not much that could help actually him, which is fantastic news right now. Unless he could talk down a highly trained assassin with a rootbeer flavored lollipop and a promise not to hold this against her or her real self… He’ll add this to the giant list of things he’ll never tell Bruce.

In his defense, he was supposed to be in Nevada by now with Peter, hopefully on their way to resolving the glitching situation for good. He hadn’t seen the need to have his equipment on hand, and then no time to retrieve anything but his phone.

Whatever, he’s worked with less.

“‘We’, huh? That include your rude, arrow-happy friend?” Nightwing wracks his brain for any time Peter might have mentioned someone using a bow. He’s sure he would have remembered if Peter had talked about them, since it sounds like they’re similar to Green Arrow. “Um, are they… the Falcon? No, wait, that’s the Sam guy. Hold on, I think I got it…” He pauses. “No, no I don’t got it.”

“His name is Hawkeye.” Black Widow’s smirk is sharp, accompanied by an arrow firing between them. It starts beeping and Black Widow clicks a rebreather onto her face. The arrow bursts into a cloud of thick, white smoke and Black Widow disappears into it.

“So I was close about the bird theme.” Nightwing calls out, stepping away from the ledge.

The smoke is so thick that he can’t see past his raised hand. Not a good sign for him if he wants to avoid getting stabbed by an arrow from her helpful hidden friend. But he’ll have to rely on Green Arrow to have his back, and on his reflexes being good enough to help him scrape by, even with the chest wound.

“I’ve got eyes on you and Black Widow.” Green Arrow’s voice is hushed. “She’s circling you.”

“How’s your hand?”

“Looked worse than it was, I got it wrapped. I’m more worried about you.”

Nightwing listens for any sign of Black Widow, but hears nothing to alert him of where she is. Seriously, Arrow is more of a worrywart than Bruce can be, sometimes. (That’s a lie. Arrow is just better at communicating that out loud.) “Just keep Hawkeye occupied and we’re fine.”

“Figured you’d say that. The shit shot changed positions, I’m still looking for where he ended up.” Nightwing frowns at that. Hopefully, he’s still here, but if the objective is to go get Thor, then he might have left the area.

He raises his fists in front of him, taking shallow breaths. The smoke doesn’t smell acidic, sweet, bitter, or like chemicals, which tells him it’s probably not going to fuck him up too badly. He’ll regret not having his rebreather on him in a little while but that’s something to complain about later. He’s from Gotham, nothing could be worse than the regular polluted air he breathes every day.

Quick as a viper strike, Black Widow appears out of the smoke.

She’s unnervingly fast. Nightwing blocks her batons with his forearms, the beating making his skin sting like it’s on fire. Broken arm bones are better than broken face bones any day, so he keeps his forearms up despite the pain.

She gets too close and Nightwing headbutts her. Black Widow stumbles back and he kicks her stomach. He goes for a right hook but Black Widow recovers in an instant. She ducks low under his fist at the last second and jams the baton into his right side.

Nightwing grits his teeth, grunting in pain, and follows her quick movement. She steps around his side and spins, going to bring her elbow down to hit his neck.

He turns and grabs that arm, kicking his foot out under her and pulling her forward. Black Widow goes with the pull, flipping herself upside down before he can get full control over where she goes.

She plants her right hand on the ground, twists herself to hook her right leg around Nightwing’s neck, and swipes the left baton under his feet, knocking him forward. He pushes himself up but Black Widow has already gotten him in a rear choke hold, her right arm wrapped tight around his neck, her left arm pushing his head forward and cutting off his air circulation. She hooks her legs over his with far more strength than he’d expect from someone without superpowers.

Too bad for her, Bruce made sure he knew how to get out of one of these before he could even think about going out as Robin all those years ago.

He tucks his chin down and brings his shoulders up. He reaches behind his head and grabs her left wrist with his right hand, clutching tight to loosen her hand strength. Using his left hand, he yanks her arm over his head and jams it under his right arm to hold it down.

She tightens her grip around his neck, pulling his head backwards. He wheezes, tapping her arm like he would if it was a sparring match. “Come on,” He manages to get out. “You can do better than that.”

Black Widow clicks her tongue. Now that he knows he’s successful in getting under her skin, he grabs her other arm and brings it down, freeing himself and taking a deep breath. He grips her wrist with both hands and pops it over his head and shoulder, forcing her to the side. She jerks her elbow back and jams the butt end of the baton into his cheekbone, once, twice three times. The third smacks his teeth and his bottom lip splits.

He gets to his feet as blood dribbles down his chin. Black Widow follows him. He gets stuck on the defensive again, dodging her baton swipes. He finds an opening when she aims for his stomach. He kicks her in the face when she ducks low, and she gets knocked to the side.

The smoke has started to dissipate enough that he can see her more clearly a few feet away. She reaches into her belt and he backs away, the shine of some kind of sharp disc catching his eye.

She doesn’t get to throw them. An arrow barely misses Nightwing by a hair, scratching his forehead. He flips backwards to avoid the second arrow, then tucks and rolls to avoid the third.

“Found you, bastard.” Green Arrow hisses in the comms.

Nightwing hears the sharp whistles of arrows rapid-firing overhead. Some of the arrows smack into each other, either blocking them from hitting Nightwing or preventing Arrow from striking Hawkeye.

He’s barely back on his feet before Black Widow throws the discs at him. They land on the dusty ground, a charge of electricity bolting up at him. There’s a short, immediate pain that dulls down to a dull ache, then practically nothing.

Nightwing smiles, feeling a bit delirious from the adrenaline. Black Widow hesitates when he’s not immediately knocked off his feet.

“What is wrong with you?” Black Widow asks, her tone less of disbelief and more of a genuine question.

“What, d’you think you’re the only one who uses electricity? I built up immunity to my escrima sticks years ago.” Nightwing wipes the blood off his chin unsuccessfully. He’s far worse for wear than Black Widow, since he’s the only one covered in blood. His chest wound screams at him to stop fighting, but there’s no way he’s giving in now.

He kicks the discs aside, already running through what he could use. His best bet would be the bola, to try and trip her up. Or to steal what she might have hidden away.

“Hawkeye’s on the move.” Green Arrow tells him. “I’m on his tail. Don’t get your ass handed to you while I’m gone.”

“A little late for that.” Nightwing replies under his breath.

He wipes his bloody hand on his jeans then pulls out his phone. It’s been five minutes since Flash had to leave Peter with Loki. Too damn long for him to be worried about this. He shoves his phone back in his pocket.

Nightwing rolls his shoulders back, stretching his neck to loosen some irritable tension. He licks his bottom lip, trying to feel how bad the damage is. The metallic taste of blood is gonna take a minute to get out of his mouth when this is over.

“Okay, I’ll admit this was fun. But this needs to be over with so I can get to my kid.”

He waves Black Widow forward.

Only for something to crash into the rock and dirt above them.

Nightwing ducks out of the way as the debris rains down. He narrowly misses getting crushed by a large chunk as it crashes behind him. He jumps up on top of it and goes scrambling for the ledge he was going to climb earlier. There’s a roar from somewhere to his left, almost making him pause, because of fucking course.

Nightwing gets himself on top of the ledge and oversees the damage. He doesn’t see where Black Widow ran off to. Part of him is hoping that she was crushed, but he doesn’t know what will happen to the homunculi if it is killed. It might not be real, but it sure looks and acts real… In any case, he hopes it disappears when defeated like most magical summons.

“Gosh-darnit all!”

Captain Marvel’s dusty head comes poking out of the rubble, looking very much the culprit of this interruption. He’s missing his cape and one of his boots. He glares in the direction of stomping footsteps, cheeks puffing out as he holds back some choice words.

(As choice as Billy could get, anyway.)

“I’m getting real sick and tired of you, dude!” Captain pushes the rocks aside, dusting off his suit as he stands up. He points in the direction of the giant, who comes to a stop in between the large gap that Captain had made when he was flung through it.

“HULK BREAK YOU!”

“Yeah! I heard you the first time!” Captain screams back at him. “Hulk break me, Hulk smash, Hulk angry, Hulk states the obvious!”

“Oh boy.” Nightwing mutters, dropping to a crouch. He rests his cheek on one fist, elbow propped on his knee. “Things just got a lot more complicated.”

-

Turns out, it’s sort of hard to carry someone a lot bigger than you when you only have one working arm.

Kara tried to carry Thor on her back but he kept falling off. Then she tried to grab his shirt and carry him like a handbag, right? But the shirt almost tore when she started flying. And he said something about liking it, so she’d feel bad about him losing his favorite shirt and his brother being captured on the same day. Like, she’s not a monster, you know?

She thought about trying some version of carrying him under her good arm like she would Jon, but she can’t get her arm all the way around him, and super strength doesn’t mean he won’t slip out of her grip. He’s not heavy at all (to her) but he’s a pretty big guy.

She hovers about 4 feet off the ground, staring down at him the way she did when having to calculate getting a couch up some stairs for Lena. Thor has been oblivious to Kara’s struggle the past minute, sleeping away. She wonders if he’s called the god of Thunder not because of his abilities, but because his snores are that loud. He could wake up a city block with this kind of noise.

“Screw it.” Kara grabs Thor by the ankle and flies up.

Thor’s arms hang down over his head and his hair blows in his face with the wind; a position that is most definitely not comfortable to sleep in and will probably hurt when he wakes up, but it’s all she’s got. She tests the strength of her grip, and upon finding it satisfactory, smiles in victory. That’s what Kara would call a success.

(She’s pretty good at critical thinking, despite what many many news sources would say about her. Supergirl doesn’t get nearly as much saving grace as the boys do. They could crash into City Hall and get a pat on the back by the mayor, but if Supergirl jaywalked, so many people would say she needs to get out of their country.)

“Perfect!” She cheers. She brings Thor up higher, imitating Pa Kent’s voice. “Get a camera, Martha, I caught a big fish for dinner!” She giggles to herself. As she settles and her laughter dies out, it sinks in how not funny that is.

Kara frowns and slumps her shoulders. Thor’s fingers skim the ground and she lifts him again with a big sigh. “I’m more tired than I thought… Come on, Thor. Let’s get out of-”

Captain Marvel’s yelp cuts through her moping.

A second later, the ground shakes and rocks fly up into the sky from a sudden impact. Startled, she flies above to see what’s going on. A cloud of dust rises up from the other side of the rock debris, where she is certain Nightwing and Green Arrow were a few minutes ago. She also sees the impact site at the top of the rock. A quick scan with her X-ray vision tells her that Nightwing and Captain Marvel are down there, but there’s no sign of Green Arrow.

Geez, a lot happened in the few minutes it took her to beat up Captain America.

She better put Thor down now, Captain Marvel looks like he needs some help putting Hulk in his place. Kara wiggles the fingers on her bad hand, then shoots a glance towards the very gray sky, the thick black clouds blocking out the afternoon sun.

Maybe she could shoot up there real quick to try and speed up the healing process? Some good old yellow sun will make her feel much better…

Okay, after she puts Thor down somewhere. Probably the zeta underneath the shed, it’s more secure than the farmhouse.

“Yeah, okay, no time to wait.”

Something flicks against her shoulder. She stops, confused by the tiny tick noise. She follows the object as it bounces off of her, then clatters to the dirt far below. She tilts her head in suspicion, squinting at the object.

It’s… an arrow?

Another shoots at her cheek, meeting the same unfortunate fate as the last one. Then another hits her forehead. None of them leave even a scratch on her invulnerable skin, but it’s annoying all the same. She scowls and turns around to face the person responsible, holding Thor behind her and out of trajectory.

It couldn’t possibly be Green Arrow, because he’d never shoot at her even if he knows she’s invulnerable. But who else here would have access to that weapon? She glances at the arrow again. Nope. Doesn’t look like one of Green Arrow’s either.

“Who’s there?”

She sees where the next arrow gets fired from this time. The attacker is about twenty yards below her, hiding in the shadows of some rocks. Right before it gets to her, the arrow explodes mid-air. Fractals of the arrow fly out, most of them uselessly hitting her front and falling to the ground. And then a voice she doesn’t know mutters: “What in the world?”

Ah, she sees now.

“Yeahhhh, okay…” She flies down some, meeting the same level as the attacker. She keeps Thor behind her still. “So, you must be another one of those puppet things Loki made.” Kara stifles a yawn. “Alright, just a fair warning, I already defeated one of you, and your arrows aren’t gonna do much-”

The man (she thinks) fires another arrow before she can finish her super helpful explanation.

Kara huffs with impatience, not bothering to move. That is, until the arrow bursts into a net. She zips upwards, swinging Thor around before his head can get caught up in the ropes. It flops onto the ground below with a dull thud.

She raises a brow at him. The man doesn’t move.

“I wasn’t done talking, you know. That’s incredibly rude of you. Do you always shoot first, ask questions later?”

The man in question steps out of the shadows. His bow is lowered, but not all the way, his fingers still resting on the next arrow. He looks exceedingly normal, but his tactical suit and quiver with an extensive collection of arrows on his back proves that he’s not. He doesn’t bear a mask, so she can see the apprehension in his eyes. He has a hearing aid in one ear; his head tilted so that it is pointed in her direction.

“What are you?” The man asks.

“You want to reword that?” Kara does not like being called a ‘what.’

“…Sure, my bad. Who are you?” The man corrects easily.

“I asked first.” Kara points out. “But to answer your question, I’m Supergirl. Your turn.”

“Hawkeye.” He grunts back, a permanent scowl on his face. “I’m only here for Thor.”

“I figured. Your buddy Captain America didn’t last very long when he tried to get Thor from me. How do you think you’ll fare?” There must be some level of understanding that the puppets have, because Hawkeye’s face falls, surprised and immediately wary. Captain America must be pretty strong for Hawkeye to have this kind of reaction.

Not stronger than her, though.

He thumbs at the string of his bow, pulling it back ever so slightly. Kara holds back a groan of frustration. Is she seriously going to have to fight another one of these things?

“Now, Hawkeye, I hate to break it to you, but you’re not going to get anywhere with those things, as you saw. It’d do you good to put them down and stop fighting.”

“I have my objective.” Hawkeye refuses. “Hand over Thor, he’s not one of yours.”

She can hear a heartbeat coming closer, a sure sign that it must be one of her people. She tries not to glance up and alert Hawkeye that they’re coming up behind him. Her ears prick, hearing a familiar tiny creak of a bowstring being pulled.

“Last chance.” She warns. “I am not handing Thor over.”

Hawkeye draws the string back, staring her down through the arrow’s path. “Then I’m sorry, but I’ll have to make you.”

“I believe the lady said no.”

Hawkeye whips around to point the arrow at the newcomer, but he’s just a hair too late. Green Arrow fires his shot, and a big red boxing glove pops out of the end, smacking Hawkeye in the jaw. Kara always forgets how much power that frankly cartoonish arrow actually has, and is reminded very quickly when Hawkeye is almost sent careening over the side of the ledge he perched himself on.

Almost, because Hawkeye catches himself. He turns on Green Arrow, who smirks down at him on the higher ground.

“What kind of cheap trick was that!?” Hawkeye shouts at him, cupping his hurt cheek with one hand.

“My cheap trick just knocked you on your ass, so do you have any room to talk?” Green Arrow retorts.

Green Arrow, a mater of getting under someone’s skin, has Hawkeye positively seething with that response. Kara blinks, and Hawkeye’s bow has been snapped forward, changing into a bo staff. Hawkeye runs forward, spinning the bo in his hand and jamming into the ground, using it to propel himself up at Green Arrow. He kicks Green Arrow in the stomach, knocking him backwards.

Kara watches with disinterest as Green Arrow and Hawkeye get into it. Green Arrow grabs Hawkeye’s wrist before a punch could break his jaw, shoves it down to the ground, and knees Hawkeye in the face. His nose breaks on impact, but notably, there’s no blood.

Well, he’s got this handled.

Green Arrow is known for his martial arts as much as he’s known for his bow and arrow (at least, in the Justice League). This is definitely not her business now, and she’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. No need for Kara to stick around.

She speeds away, making a break for the zeta room before anyone else can come climbing out of the woodwork to distract her.

-

The chill of the underground sends a shiver down her skin. It’s much more quiet here than outside, and she almost entertains the idea of sitting down with Thor to take a nap with him. She carefully sets Thor down on the ground a few feet away from the zeta tube, double checking that he’s alright.

She steps back, rubbing her shoulder with her good hand. All that’s left is Hulk, as far as she knows. Though Nightwing might need help getting to Peter… That’s a better idea. Get Nightwing to Peter, then come back for Hulk.

The zeta screen chimes, breaking the silence in the room.

Kara blinks at it, wondering who has heard about this mess and is coming to help. She perks up when she reads the two familiar numbers written in the ID space. She stumbles over to the tube as the lights turn on. She waits at the steps, grinning at Zatanna and Constantine’s figures forming on the platform inside the tube.

Zatanna is a far cry from her usual look. She’s wearing her typical outfit for occasions such as this- a white button down, her magic hat askew on her head. But she also wears a frumpy, old Carhartt jacket, a pair of patchwork jeans, and muddy boots, all of which definitely do not belong to her. A brown tote is slung over her shoulder, beaten to hell and back, which Kara has never seen her use before. Her magic wand pokes out of the pocket on the side.

The slump of her shoulders and the bags under her eyes make it clear that she’s exhausted and very, very pissed off. Meanwhile, Constantine is wearing rumpled business casual, his brown trench coat slung over his arm. He always looks ill and never rested, so he’s pretty normal.

“Sweet Mary, I hate these things.” Constantine complains before the zeta is even done. Once it is, he reaches into a coat pocket and grabs a pack of Silk Cut cigarettes and a lighter. “Never get used to how bloody nauseous they make me.”

“One would think you of all people would be used to being nauseous.” Zatanna chides boredly, stepping off the zeta.

“You have a mean streak in you, did you notice that?” Constantine lights the cigarette and takes a drag. “Good evening, Supergirl. What the hell happened to you?”

Kara is about to ask what the hell happened to him, that Zatanna clearly got caught up in if she’s wearing a disguise, but Zatanna cuts in before she can. “It’s the afternoon here, John.”

“Same difference.”

“It’s not.”

“I think it is.”

“Wouldn’t we love for you to stop thinking?” Zatanna’s voice is clipped, and that’s how Kara knows before it’s even said out loud that Constantine is definitely in trouble. “You ‘thinking’ is why I just had to bail you out of jail.”

“Hey now, that was hardly my fault!” Constantine points at her, taking another drag of his cigarette. “First of all, ‘cause I was just assuming it’d be useful if I went and got the rest of everything before it was sold. Secondly, it was a misunderstanding-”

“Well what were they supposed to think, John? You were swerving all over the road-”

“I’m sorry, what else was I going to do if a ghost of a squirrel invades my damn car? I couldn’t see the road I was swerving on-”

“-you refused to do a sobriety test so they clearly suspected you were drinking and driving-”

“-They were looking for reasons to get me and fill their quota-”

“-You had multiple firearms in the backseat!” Zatanna shouts back. “Just out in the open! Not even a jacket to cover it.”

“So what? I thought I was fittin’ into American culture?” Constantine fires back. “If I had a decal sticker of a certain political party they might’ve sent me on my way-”

“You’re lucky that you didn’t have this on you when you were arrested, or there would have been hell to pay about me having to get this from lock up.” Zatanna clutches the strap of the bag, gesturing it at Constantine. The man rolls his eyes.

“Now we both know it would have been easy for you to get it out of there without them noticing. Since when do you have a respect for the way the system works?”

“That’s not the point!” Zatanna argues. “It was the fact that I had to do it at all! The fact that you told me it was with you in Nevada, but you were in Florida and you could have lost it after we put so much effort into making it, is why I’m angry, John!”

“I said I was sorry, what more do you want from me?”

“Your apology could do with more groveling, for starters.” Zatanna shoots him a deadly glare. Constantine gulps nervously, sensing she’s not kidding around.

“If you wanted me on my kne-”

“Hi!” Kara shouts. “I’m still here! Been here, the whole time.”

Zatanna actually jumps, whipping around to see Kara wave her good arm around frantically. “My goodness, Kara, what did happen to you?” Her eyes slide over to where Thor is slumped on the ground. “Who is the passed out man in the secure underground zeta room?”

“Um,” Kara jabs a thumb in his direction. “Thor, the Norse God of Thunder?”

“What, they have crocs in Asgard?” Constantine breathes out a cloud of smoke. He points his cigarette in Thor’s direction, shoes clicking on the ground as he walks past Zatanna on the steps. “Did he attack you?”

“No.”

“So he’s not the reason you look like you got into a fight with Pikachu?” Constantine is peering at her neck, where Dick had mentioned some scarring on her skin.

Kara awkwardly clicks her tongue and winces. “Funny story, actually. He is, uh, responsible, for that. But it wasn’t his fault! He came down in that lightning bolt from Russia, which I think is Klarion’s fault? That’s not super important right now. Basically, he’s our friend and you don’t have to worry about it.”

Zatanna, during Kara’s rambling, has walked over to examine Thor. She stands a few feet away, her gaze calculating. Her hand hovers over the opening latch for the bag, but she instead snaps her fingers and points at Thor. “Taolf.”

Thor rises off of the ground wrapped in a blue, shimmering light. His breathing is instantly better. Zatanna picks her wand out of the bag and waves it over herself. “Teg dir fo siht.”

The coat, pants, and boots twinkle with light and disappear. Zatanna breathes a sigh of relief to be back in her own clothes. She points at Kara, who feels a warm spot over her forehead. “Dnim pam.”

A blue diagram of the area above flickers to life in front of Zatanna, complete with the new terrain and small pink figures of their friends. Kara rubs her forehead, disliking the Mind Map spell even though she knows it’s such a helpful tool.

“What am I looking at here?” Zatanna frowns, spinning the diagram to view where Peter and Loki are.

Though the figures are moving, they are buffering from a bad connection. Since the mind map is based on what Kara is inferring from what she can hear and has already seen, and not a real time vision, there’s bound to be some server errors.

“I’m seeing quite a few more people than I expected… But where is Flash? I need him for this to work.”

“Loki summoned puppets of the Avengers-” a pair of matching confused looks, “-which are the Justice League of Peter’s universe-” The two frown. “-to keep everyone from getting to him. Um, Nightwing, Arrow, and Captain Marvel are preoccupied with fighting those puppets, Spider-Man AKA Peter is fighting Loki… I think.”

Or maybe not. Their figures aren’t moving around like they are. They’re… talking?

“And Flash, uh, hold on, let me check.” Kara tilts her head to the side, listening for Wally’s voice.

“-orry, sorry! My bad, guys, I took a wrong turn. Hope I didn’t mess anything up- I didn’t did I? Batman’ll kill me if I- oh, sweet. I was headed for Somalia, not Kenya. Oh, this thing? Some spear thingy I can’t let this guy that’s chasing me have. You guys are paleontologists? What’d you find? Kenyanthropus… Pliocene hominin? Wait, this is like, new. I know my dinosaurs, I had a phase when I was… well it’s not a phase. Oh you just discovered it! Like just now!? That’s sick! I’ll have to come around when this gets on display. What museum do you think- Oopsie, gotta skedaddle-”

Kara chuckles. “The Avengers apparently have a speedster, so he’s pretty busy with that.”

“Well that’s just lovely. Got any other ideas on getting close enough to grab him?” Constantine nudges Zatanna with his elbow. “Could call in one of the others, like Barry. Or the creepy little one. Barticus, or whatever they called him. The poor sap.”

Zatanna’s side eye is lethal enough for Constantine to lean away from her and put out the cigarette. “No need to call in another speedster. I have an idea you won’t like. Kara, stay here. Watch over Thor and call in the Watchtower. Let them know what’s going on.”

Kara frowns. “I can still fight.”

Constantine goes to speak again but Zatanna raises her hand for silence. Constantine shuts his mouth and steps away, getting another cigarette out and toeing the floor with his shoe.

Zatanna ignores his dramatics. “I know you could, but someone needs to watch Thor-”

“He’s not that injured.” Kara grumbles.

“You know protocol.” Zatanna reminds her with a pointed brow raise. Kara tries not to shrivel up under her gaze. “The reports on this are going to be reviewed by everyone, later, since this apparently involves multidimensional threats. I’m trusting your judgment on his character, but it still needs to be done. Besides,” Zatanna pats her bag. “This will be over with in no time. Let’s go, John. We have puppets to throw out and a snake to catch.”

-

Loki drops his head in his hands. He leans over himself with a frustrated groan, muttering under his breath, “All of this, and for what?” He lets out a weary sigh and then falls silent, dragging his trembling hands down his face in disbelief. He presses one palm against the ice and stares at his reflection. Peter wonders what he sees looking back at him.

It appears they can now agree on one thing: they’re both exhausted.

Exhausted enough that Loki is no longer trying to run away, and Peter wobbles on his feet, silently hoping that the fight is over.

It feels like this one day has been a months long endeavor. Only one night ago he had found out he’s at risk of coming apart at the molecular seams. This morning was the talk with Loki. And just, like, twenty minutes ago, Thor escaped from an interdimensional hell Loki created and struck him with lightning.

That’s not even considering all the other things that happened between these events. Such as emotional conversations he didn’t think he’d ever get to have, and also multiple strange visions/dreams that might have been the result of magic. Those, in his opinion, were far more taxing on the psyche.

And on top of all of that, Peter is super duper hungry.

So… he got the scepter away from Loki. Flash is halfway across the world by now, keeping it out of Quicksilver’s hands. Everybody else is probably preoccupied with the other puppets that Loki made, which means they won’t be interrupting them again, at least for the moment.

…What does he do now?

Peter starts counting on his fingers.

1. Finish the fight for Thor.
2. Teach Loki not to test his patience.
3. Get Loki to surrender and apologize.

He squints at his hand. He doesn’t know about that middle one, since Loki had been doing plenty of annoying him during this joke of a fight. But the other two…

He looks back to Loki, crumpled over himself, the definition of pitiful. The first one might already be accomplished; he is looking pretty ‘defeated’ right now. That might also lean into helping him finish goal three. If Loki is so tired he’s not running away, then that counts as a surrender, right?

No… not a surrender, not yet. But maybe Loki is up for talking now, which means he’ll see the error of his ways and apologize.

(And Peter could find out what the hell is going on with these dumb adults.)

But what if it’s another trick?

His spider-sense isn’t buzzing at him that he should be careful. But then again, his spider-sense hadn’t helped him figure out Loki’s intentions this whole time. He’d been far more in the dark than he thought he was. The illusion of having some control over his situation is scarier than if he knew he hadn’t had it. He’d been walking a tightrope with a blindfold on, and the whole time he was thinking Loki was giving him directions to the other side.

He could have gotten hurt… if Loki had any intention of doing that.

It can’t be that Loki thinks he’s not strong and was underestimating his abilities, because he wanted his help dismantling the Avengers. That requires thinking Peter could do that (for some outlandish reason). Loki had underestimated Spider-Man’s resolve, and overestimated his own ability to charm.

Maybe… Loki probably believed he could come back, once Peter wasn’t as annoyed with him, and try again? He couldn’t do that if he killed Peter.

…Or maybe he didn’t want to hurt Peter?

Even though Dick said it’s not his fault, it doesn’t not feel like his fault. He should have picked up something, anything, that showed Loki’s true nature. But he didn’t.

Maybe Natasha was right. He relies on his spider-sense too much.

And yet, he hadn’t trusted his spider-sense about the Bats until he got proof they were good people. So what even is his problem, anymore? Does he trust too much, too hard? Or is he too stubborn to do that? What kind of idiot is he, that he didn’t question Loki for more than a few minutes, but it took a whole month before he let the Bats help him?

Is this whole thing his fault? If he had paid more attention, then what if Loki had been defeated sooner? Would Thor not have spent all that time in that rift? Would he have been home already? And if he had left earlier, would he have even found out about Dick being his dad?

It’s all scrambled to hell, and he doesn’t know what to make sense of anymore.

Peter leans on the rock behind him, struggling with what step to take next. He’s talked down enemies before, but their problems were about parking tickets, or the price of groceries, or wanting to rob a bank to fund their research. Or take over a pond, that one time. Nothing as unconquerable as family drama.

He said he’d do it, so he has to at least try. But he’s 14 and still figuring out his own crap. It feels like Peter spends most of his time needing advice from everybody else to get through the week.

…Maybe that’s it! Peter should pick somebody who’s given him good advice or cheered him up, and emulate them. The question is: who?

His gaze falls on Mjolnir between them, lying in its own little cradle of cracked ice. He gets the feeling that continuing to use Thor’s strength isn’t going to help him in the feelings department. Loki is no longer hostile. He thinks.

What would Tony d- No. Loki doesn’t seem like the type to respond to advice and concern disguised as jokes, sarcastic comments, or unspoken actions.

Pepper? She’s good at that, right? She gives Peter good advice, at least. Something about learning to move forward? Shit, well, half of her advice is more geared towards Peter not giving up on school. Is that the right kind of pep talk?

…What would Dick say?

Is Peter even smart enough to try and copy that? Dick has a lot more years of advice under his belt. And what advice had he given Peter that also works here? Don’t go to amusement parks? Get a reliable car? More seriously: There are people that will help, if they’re asked to?

Hm… Maybe the strong suit here is being able to comfort someone. Dick is really good at that. But he has to know what is going on in Loki’s head if he wants to comfort the idiot and solve this. And he doesn’t. Because Loki won’t tell him shit.

(Ugh, this is a big stupid headache. If only Ned were here. Ned is really good at stuff like this, even if he doesn’t like the person at all. Ned would have talked down Loki without having to fight, and they’d be getting ice cream right now.)

Peter takes a tentative step forward, eyeing Loki suspiciously for any sudden movements. When nothing happens, he takes another step. He’s not decided that Loki won’t try to do anything, but he is sure that he can’t be a coward, so he makes his way over. He stops when he gets to Mjolnir.

Loki doesn’t move to incapacitate him or anything. He just continues to be all mopey and sad. Peter rubs his arm, searching for the right words to say, but it’s hard to do that when he feels like he’s possibly winding up a jack-in-the-box with magic that could turn him into a duck or something equally as awful.

Peter squats down and hugs his knees, squinting at Loki. He finally tears his gaze away from his reflection in the ice, his expression shifting from utter fatigue to wariness.

“Are you trying to burn a hole in my skull?”

“No.” Peter glances away for a second. “I’m thinking.”

“I pray that works out for you.”

“Shut up.” Peter raises his fist and flicks Loki’s forehead. Loki scowls and rubs the spot like it actually hurt. Drama queen.

He rocks back to actually sit down properly, still hugging his knees and humming with irritation. Loki keeps eyeballing Mjolnir next to Peter like he’s super concerned Peter will pick it up again.

Fuck it. Peter does his best work when he’s winging it. Ignore the times where that isn’t the case.

“You know, Thor talks about you a lot.”

Loki started rolling his eyes as soon as he heard Thor’s name. “I gathered that already.” He mirrors how Peter sits, facing him. Loki’s previously polished shoes are as dusty as Peter’s permanently worn down converse.

“Because he cares about you.”

“No.” Loki replies, stern and pained. “He cares about this- this idea of who I was. Before everything that happened. He used to see me as this child that followed him around, that thought the world of him. As if I had ever done that. His delusions convinced him that was real. And now, he…”

Loki seethes. A layer of frost collects around the soles of their shoes. Peter picks up his feet to dust the frost off, shivering from the cold. Loki tries to pretend that hadn’t struck a chord.

“He wavers between seeing that child or seeing me as a villain. It is demeaning.”

“‘Villain’ is a harsh word.”

“After what I had done? Harsh is kind.” Loki retorts, hanging his head. The guy is wallowing in a whole bunch of… self pity. And here Peter thought it was anger and revenge keeping him going.

Peter… doesn’t get it.

“What are you mad about?”

Loki doesn’t answer. “Hello? Anybody in there?” Peter waves his hand in front of Loki’s face. Loki frowns at him, continuing to stay silent. “Dude, you’re gonna make me more annoying if you don’t reply. What are you mad about? Is it that Thor sees you as a little kid?”

Loki huffs. Peter’s eye twitches.

“Are you mad that he sees you as a villain?”

Loki glances away.

“Okay, mad about both things, somehow. You looking for some kind of middle ground situation?” Peter ponders. Loki narrows his eyes, thinking about it. “I can see why you’d be upset about Thor seeing you as a kid. But you admit that you did something to make him- and the Avengers, I guess- see you as a bad guy. So are you mad at them, or are you mad at yourself?”

Now that gets an answer from Loki that Peter understands. He physically recoils from the idea of self introspection.

“Bingo!” Peter snaps his fingers. He knows a lot about not wanting to face some inner turmoil. He can work with this. “So, what did you do?”

Loki looks down again, this time covering his face from view. Peter glances at his reflection, but the shadows make it hard to make out his expression. His shoulders hunch up and he curls in on himself, as if that could protect him from his own emotions trying to eat him alive.

…How bad was this thing Loki did?

He nudges Loki’s shoe with his, making his voice much more gentle than before. “Come on, man, we can’t get past this if you don’t talk about it.”

“…Hypocrite.”

Peter snorts. “I didn’t say I wasn’t .” But then, Peter pauses. Because… “Hey, how would you know?”

As far as Peter is aware and inwardly guilty about, he was fairly open with Loki. When he was visiting, Peter talked about what he was doing since he last saw him. Hadn’t he also admitted a small insecurity about Tony maybe not wanting to look for him, way at the beginning? Or at least didn’t do enough to prove that it didn’t exist?

He probably just inferred it from the… everything about Peter, or something like-

“I went on a date with your therapist.”

What?

That’s not at all what Peter thought he was going to say.

Loki sits up again. His lips are pressed in a thin line and he avoids Peter’s gaze. Peter feels his face pale. Is he being serious? “…You what?”

“I needed information about you.” No. No no no. “I tried the good old fashioned way of bribing but she was steadfast in her resolve,” NO. Lucy!? Dr. Lucy, the nicest person ever that Peter probably makes hate her job? “-so you do not have to be concerned that she told me anything. I wiped her memory of the encounter and stole her files on you.”

Peter jumps to his feet. Half convinced that he’s lost his mind, or entered some kind of strange coma dream from being struck by lightning, or hopefully hallucinating after eating something he shouldn’t have, he shouts. “Are you- Are you fucking with me!? Are you being fucking serious right now!?”

Loki winces.

HE’S BEING SERIOUS?

“Loki, what the fuck!?” He practically screeches. “What the actual hell is wrong with you!? Were you dropped off that Rainbow Bridge on Asgard as a baby or somethin’!?”

“I knew the Avengers had not told you much, but when we met the first time and you were not nearly as wary as I expected you would be, I thought something was not adding up.” Loki tries to explain himself, but Peter is pacing around in a line in front of him, his mind buzzing with the thought don’t strangle him, don’t strangle him-

Peter owes Dr. Lucy like a billion flower baskets. Or maybe he can convince Tony to buy her her own private island. Or a mountain, if she wants it. Hell, if she asks for Peter to, like, open up about his feelings so she can do her job, he’ll do that, too!

And then it hits Peter that Loki admitted to reading about him. He stops pacing. “So you read through- through all my…”

Granted, Dr. Lucy doesn’t have much about him. But it’s enough to make him want to disappear forever.

“Yes.” Loki has the decency to be very ashamed by this. “At the time, I thought I was gathering information on a potential enemy. I had not considered that I would…” Loki, as though the very idea makes him ill, admits, “That I would feel bad about it.”

“You should feel bad! You should feel like a huge ass!” Peter shouts, making Loki flinch. “How does reading my therapy records have anything to do with taking over the world?”

“I am not trying to take over the world!”

“I hate to break it to you, you delusional sewer rat, but what you’re doing is very much ‘take over the world’ activities.”

“Well, now you sound just like your precious Avengers.”

“Ugh!” Peter stomps his foot. Then he hits himself with a third person POV of him stomping his foot like a toddler, and all the anger is wiped out completely. Kidding. It’s still there, just below the surface. Mostly, he’s feeling like thanking the universe that no one else witnessed that.

They’re getting off topic. “Is that why they don’t like you? You try to take over the world or something?”

Loki grits his teeth. Peter can tell that’s a land mine waiting to be stepped on.

Okay, so it must have been really bad. It must be ‘a ton of people got hurt because of him’ bad. The Avengers deal with some heavy shit, so Peter hadn’t really expected anything less than ‘pretty bad’. But it can’t be so bad that they wouldn’t have warned him about Loki when the dude started hovering a while ago.

Maybe Loki really sucks at taking over the world, and he’s embarrassed. That’s why he wants revenge. Tony might have laughed at him. Gods are infamous for their terrible reactions when someone embarrasses them. He read Percy Jackson. Thanks, Jason.

“I-”

“You-”

A huge crash cuts them off. Peter flinches- he hadn’t been paying attention to what is happening outside of where they are. The crash hadn’t happened too far from them, causing dust to sprinkle down from overhead. It takes a moment for the noise to settle down, as whatever crashed initially caused more rock to fall with it.

Dread washes over him. Immediate visions of someone hurt, or someone dying, crushed by debris, clouds his mind. He clenches his fist at his side, ignoring the tightness in his chest that makes it hard to breathe.

Loki has crossed a line no matter his reason. He hasn’t just imprisoned Thor and helped Ohnn and Mysterio, he’s now put Dick and his friends in danger. That won’t be easily forgiven, but it is possible, as long as he can get Loki to put a stop to this before they reach a point of no return.

“Okay… um…” His voice wavers. He winces and clears his throat, hopefully preventing a voice crack.

He puts his hands out as he thinks, like Pepper does when she’s at a meeting and is convincing all those corporate sleazeballs to choose humanity over profit. Um. Which is not a comparison that has anything to do with Loki.

“Putting aside that you have to add Dr. Lucy to the big list of apologies you have to make,” Peter starts, holding back on throttling the other when Loki scrunches his face with disgust.“It’s not too late, you know.”

Loki is confused. “What isn’t?”

“To stop this.” Peter clarifies. Because for some reason he needed a clarification. “Stop fighting, talk to Thor. Or, well, apologize, first, because you definitely are in the wrong. But then talk to him, because I’m sure Thor would hear you out.” Peter hesitates. “After he has a minute to be mad at you.”

Peter thinks that Thor will eventually get over it, because immortals (?) must work on a different standard of what is and isn’t okay. But that doesn’t mean there’s not some time in between forgiveness where Thor is gonna want to punch first, talk later.

“Okay, adjusting the plan. You apologize when he wakes up, then give him a little bit… I’m thinking, like, a week-”

“A week?” Loki looks like that’s a terrible estimation and idea but he’s trying to be polite. That’s progress!

“Yeah, man, a week! Let him be mad and go over his feelings so you don’t crowd him, and in the meantime you and I can like, make a card!”

“A card.”

Peter ignores Loki’s doubt. “Please, Loki? Show everyone you’re not a threat anymore, and they’ll understand. Yeah, you’ll probably be locked up for a bit, ‘cause you did kind of attack the Justice League and I get the vibe that they won’t be your biggest fan anytime soon. But I can visit you in the Batjail and we can come up with the best way to apologize to everyone, and we can talk about our feelings- stop making that face-” Loki continues to make a face. “-and we can get to the bottom of this and everything will be solved!”

“You are too much of an optimist.”

Peter fake screams into his fist, barely holding back. Why is it so hard to make someone say the words ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I won’t attack anyone anymore’? “Are you even trying to consider this as an option?”

“Why would I?” Loki snaps, his patience run thin. He stands up like Peter is, dusting off his pants. Peter, noting that Loki is taller than him again, straightens up to look more confident than he feels. Now that is a Tony lesson: Fake it till you make it, Parker.

“Let us entertain this brilliant idea, shall we? Go over all the reasons why this would obviously work?” Loki’s voice drips with sarcasm. “You want me to surrender? Just what do you believe would happen if I were to do that? Are you actually under the impression that I would be staying somewhere where you could visit me? That they would deem me so little of a threat that they would allow you to make childish cards and teach me how to say ‘sorry’?”

Peter briefly imagines abandoning his peaceful plan, picking up Mjolnir, and jamming the handle into Loki’s stupid chin.

He wants to play this game? Fine. Peter isn’t in Academic Decathlon for no reason. If he can get Flash Thompson, the world’s most persistent mosquito of a guy, to concede defeat in the practice runs they take way too seriously, he can get Loki to. Peter can stubborn himself into any argument he wants.

“Even if they didn’t, I’ve gone unnoticed by Batman and his entourage plenty of times now. I’d figure out a way.”

Loki tuts. “Batman and his apprentices do not have the abilities that their friends do. Superman would hear you.”

“Did you know there’s a diving technique that can slow your heartbeat? If Batman can figure it out, I can.” Peter counters. Loki doesn’t know what to say to that, and he skips to another point:

“Still, do you honestly expect them to forgive me just because I say that I am sorry?”

“That’s not what apologies are for.”

Loki is taken aback. “Sorry?”

“So it wasn’t hard for you to say then.”

“You- You know what I meant!”

Peter takes pity on him for a second. Clearly, Loki’s parents were severely lacking. “My Aunt May taught me how apologies are supposed to go. You do something wrong, you apologize, and someone may or may not forgive you. It’s on you to do better after that.”

“And you are the pinnacle of following an example.”

“You don’t need to get nasty to make a point.” Peter chides.

Loki looks around, obviously searching for his next stupid reason to pull out of his ass. “Well I refuse to go to any of their prisons. Have you even seen where they send their enemies? They put their best and brightest next to the washed out and incompetent. Though they are still utter failures for getting caught-”

“Dude, they probably have like, special cells set up for someone like you. Do you see any literal gods going to that Blackbate place?”

“Blackgate.” Loki corrects, but it’s clear Peter’s got him. “I suppose it is an insult to my abilities to put me there.”

“Exactly! And they’d want to keep you close because you’re involved in all this nonsense. The Justice League won’t torture you, dude, especially not if I’m there being annoying.”

Loki laughs, a bitter sound. “You may trust them, Parkerson, but I do not.”

Peter frowns. “But you can trust me, can’t you?”

He hoped for an entirely different reaction than the one he gets. Instead of hope, or an understanding that Peter doesn’t hate him and that they can get past this, something like pain flashes across Loki’s face. He turns around before Peter can see more, and starts walking away from him.

Peter reaches out to stop him, but Loki doesn’t go far. He stops a few feet away, holding his mouth as if he’s going to be sick.

“…Loki?”

Loki hangs his head, cursing under his breath. He composes himself and turns back around, but it’s too late.

guilty

Peter was right. Loki misplaced his anger with himself for his mistake onto the Avengers. It can’t be something so petty as embarrassment.

And suddenly, how Loki is acting starts to make a little more sense.

He thinks about only a couple years ago when he lost Ben because he was reckless and angry. He put all of the hate he had for himself and his part in it onto the man that pulled the trigger. He started running away from foster homes in search of the man that killed him, but it wasn’t until he got his powers that he did find him.

When finally faced with that decision, Peter had only one person in his mind. The very same source of that grief was the voice of reason that kept Peter from crossing the line. One that reminded him of the last lesson Ben taught him.

“I understand that you… believe you can help me, somehow.” Loki averts his gaze. “But there is much that you do not know.”

Loki doesn’t need Peter to emulate Tony, or Pepper, or Dick.

He needs Uncle Ben.

“So tell me.” Peter insists. “You keep saying that I don’t know things, that I don’t understand. You said the Avengers are keeping me in the dark, but you’re also keeping something from me! How am I supposed to understand if I’m kept out of the loop?”

“I-”

“I mean, how are you going to criticize them but do the exact same thing?” Loki’s mouth snaps shut. “You may be thousands of years old, but you’re not above humanity. We all make the same mistakes- you just happen to have consequences on a larger scale because of your power. I might just be some stupid kid, but I know now when to own up when I fuck up. That’s what you gotta do, man! Revenge isn’t gonna make you feel better.”

Peter holds out his hand for a handshake. Corny, probably (definitely), but it’s all he can think of. Ben said a good handshake can get you far.

“I don’t want to fight you. And I don’t want Thor to be sad that he’s lost you again. We can figure this out. It only becomes too late when you don’t want to be better.”

Loki stares at his hand for a long stretch of silence, deliberating with himself, visibly torn between saying no or surrendering. Peter starts to wonder if maybe he went too far on the Uncle Ben scolding technique, but then Loki closes his eyes, tilts his face up at the sky, and heaves a heavy sigh.

“I do trust you, Spider.”

In a momentous occasion, he extends his hand to surrender.

He stops.

Fear flashes in Loki’s eyes. He drops his hands, looking towards where the crash from earlier had sounded. Peter’s stomach sinks and he turns that way too, trying to find what had spooked him. Nothing is there, but it’s-

quiet

Peter’s ears prick at the lack of noise. No thunderous booms, no battle cries, no rocks being crushed. They hadn’t noticed how much the battle had died down outside, arguing like they were. He shivers as the cold starts to settle in. He tries to tell himself it’s only because of the ice, but…

what’s it?

Just great.

He blinks at his suddenly blurring vision, and when that doesn’t work, he rubs at his eyes. It isn’t him, or a very delayed concussion symptom. The blur wobbles like a heat wave- like magic energy. And it can’t be Loki’s, if he’s so scared.

Appalled, Loki shouts, “That’s preposterous!”

Peter lunges forward. “Shake my hand, dammit!”

He snatches Loki’s hand- or what looks like a glob of paper white that he assumes is it- before the god can pull away. He aggressively shakes them up and down, proclaiming over their panic, “Pleasure doing business with you! Kidding. That’s code for ‘please do not fight whoever that is.’”

Loki tries to rip his hand away, but Peter holds steadfast. “Why do you have to be so strong? Unhand me, Parkerson!”

“NO!” Peter protests, digging his heels in as Loki continues trying to yank himself away. “We were getting along! We were bonding!”

The ice makes it extremely difficult to get any traction, his shoes making a squeaking noise as Loki drags him around in a circle, attempting to shake him off. They go around and around like that a couple of times before they both notice that the rock surrounding them is moving… up.

The rocks are covered in a shiny pink light. They lift off of the ground and into the air. The blur is gone now that the spell has been cast, but Loki’s image warps in the corner of his eye. The weight in Peter’s hand disappears abruptly, and yet again a bird’s wing smacks him in the face.

“Loki, no!” Peter fusses, making a grab for the crow.

“CAW!”

“There’s no need for that kind of language!”

Peter grabs his crow foot and refuses to let go. Crow Loki tries to peck at his hair, but Peter flops onto his back. Now his arms are raised in the air and Crow Loki sees he isn’t winning this way. He turns back to himself. Only, Peter is still holding his ankle, so he falls face first into the ice.

“You surrendered!”

“I had not yet!” Loki argues, standing up and dragging Peter on the ground.

“We shook on it!”

“You forced me to!”

“ Nuh uh!”

“Yes you did!” Loki raises his hand. A vine pushes through the ice, wraps around Peter’s leg, and drags him backwards. Loki turns into a cat, slipping out of Peter’s grip as more vines yank him away. Once he’s out of Peter’s reach, he turns back into himself and makes a break for it.

“You should turn into chicken instead!” Peter pulls the vine apart. “Coward!”

-hear- watch i- !!!!!!!!!

He shivers, all the hair on his body standing on end. The amount of magical energy surrounding them is making his spider-sense uneasy. Something pops! far above his head.

hello?

Peter cranes his neck to see. The sorcerer’s image is blurred by the magic spell they’re casting, a mix of black and white and red. A dazzling white light sprinkles down like confetti, the stars landing in Peter’s hair and- ow! In his eye. Peter rubs it away and shakes the sparkling dust off of his head.

“Larips!”

A spiraling yellow light hurtles towards Loki. He startles, jumping up and turning into a crow to fly away before it hits him. It skims against his tail feathers, and scrapes across the ground. Crow Loki flies up into the floating rock, landing on one that is face up.

…What in the magical girl is going on?

hello!

A woman lands on the ground in front of him, her arms out above her as if waving to an audience. He’s never seen her before. And he’s sure he would have remembered if he did, because she’s wearing an outfit a stage magician would wear, complete with the coat, funny top hat, and a magic wand. The only exception, and out of place item, is a tote bag over her shoulder.

“Zatarra,” Loki snarls.

“Heard of me, have you?” Zatarra tips her hat in Loki’s direction. Her voice is silky smooth, charming like an old movie. “Must have been hard, since you’re from another dimension. Should I be flattered?”

Zatarra? Zatarra… Zee? That’s who they were talking about, right? How many magic Zees can there be? Peter scrambles to his feet. “Um, Miss Zatarra, Loki isn’t a thr-”

“What did you do to my puppets?” Loki interrupts.

“Those things? I nullified their magic. They disappeared, obviously. I guess you could call it light work.” She chuckles at her own joke. She turns to wink at Peter. “Get it? Because they’re made of light?”

“Hilarious.” Loki replies dryly. Peter reluctantly nods, because he can appreciate a good pun. “You should start a comedy routine to go along with your stage shows.”

“Well I can’t be pretty, smart, magic, and funny.” She sighs wistfully, one hand on her cheek. She snaps her gloved fingers, the noise clear and precise despite the fabric. “Oh, wait! I can!”

“Miss Zatarra-”

“I will not let you best me again. I did not know you possessed this much magic.” Loki has his hackles raised, glowering down at Zatarra.

There’s a twinkle in her eyes that is almost cartoonish looking, like it can’t be cast by the light around them. Peter squints at her. Is she a magical girl? “I can tell you didn’t. Otherwise, you would have thought twice before attacking my friends and causing trouble in my universe.”

“Miss Zatarra!” Peter raises his hand.

Zatarra tilts her head, an amused smile gracing her lips. “Yes, Peter?”

“Loki just surrendered, please don’t let his very punchable face fool you.”

“ Pakerson , for the last time!” Loki shouts down at him. “I did not surrender! I refuse to go with you, especially not if that hack of a stage magician is there!”

“He just says stuff like that.” Peter sweats.

“Hack!?” Zatarra’s lost all her humor, ignoring Peter. “You heard the man, kid. He won’t be surrendering. And if that’s the case, I think it’s time to put everything back where it belongs, don’t you?” Peter shakes his head, but Zatarra lifts her wand. “Starting with the local terrain. Nruter ot ecalp!”

All of the debris begins twirling around in the sky. Peter blinks through the blur to watch the pieces fly and shift around in a whirlwind, clicking back together and finding their places in the ground like puzzle pieces.

“And next, capturing you!”

She teleports behind Loki on the floating rock. Loki whips around and casts throwing daggers at her. They clink uselessly across a shiny force field. “We’ll see about that!”

“Wait!” Peter tries to shoot a web to swing up there.

His webshooter clinks at him. Fearing the worst, he grabs his wrist, checking the cartridge pack to find absolutely nothing inside. Then his other, just in case he’s got any luck left.

Nothing. He’s all out of webs. Because this couldn’t get to be any more of a disaster.

Peter tugs at his hair and lets out a growl of unbridled frustration. He was so close! And then Loki just had to get all freaked out by someone else with magic! And Zatarra just had to barge in!

That’s not fair. Peter scolds himself. Zatarra didn’t know that Loki wasn’t a threat. But Peter is pissed as all get out and he sure feels like blaming everything short of the sun and the moon for his problems. He’ll blame Loki for having a superiority complex.

And Odin. Dude sounds like he was a terrible father. He was mean to Thor even if Thor doesn’t notice. And Loki didn’t come out like that all on his own.

hello!

Footsteps crunch in the dirt behind him. Peter morosely turns to meet them, peeking around a rock that floats in his way. As it settles back into the dirt, Dick comes into view. Peter perks up, his worries taking a backseat for .5 seconds. Then his heart sinks and he doesn’t even process Dick’s smile, or that he calls out Peter’s name.

In the some fifteen minutes since Peter saw him last, Dick has apparently been dragged around through a sandstorm or fought a mountain lion. He’s covered in forming bruises, nasty cuts, scratches, and a lot of blood. He’s also missing his shirt(?), and he’s more dust than person.

A boom echoes overhead. Loki’s cackle is dastardly, cut off with a yelp.

Dick grabs Peter by the shoulders, already inspecting him from head to toe for injuries. “Are your insides still your insides? Any broken bones? Did anyone stab you with a needle this time?”

Another crash from above. Peter winces, looking up to see a flash of green and blue colliding midair. After all of that work, Peter doesn’t feel like he accomplished anything. Loki had barely fought Peter, got everyone hurt, and in the end, refused to surrender to try and make it right. The disappointment is absolutely crushing.

Peter hugs Dick instead of answering. After a second, Dick hugs him back, carding his hand through his hair.

“You okay, bud?”

No, but he’s not gonna cry about it like he’s a baby. He pulls away from Dick and wipes his nose. “‘m fine. Did you get into a fight with the Tasmanian Devil?”

Dick catches his lie but lets it go. He cracks a cheeky smile, shrugging nonchalantly. “I wish. The Black Widow is a pretty killer opponent.”

His eyes widen, and he steps back to get a good look at his face. Whoa, he’s being serious. Dick fought Natasha? He almost doesn’t believe him, but… he looks like he just fought a tornado full of razor blades. “And you’re still alive!?”

“For the most part, yeah.”

hello…?

Peter peeks behind Dick, uncomfortable to see yet another stranger is here. This one is a little less peculiar than Zatarra, with her fancy get up, shiny black hair, and dazzling smile. This man has bags under his eyes, a scruffy five o’clock shadow, and a cigarette between his teeth, scowling like he’s fighting a hangover. He wears a baggy trench coat that almost touches the ground.

“Well isn’t this just the world’s biggest bother?” The man stops a few feet from them, glaring up at the battlefield in the sky. Peter is immediately hung up on hearing a British accent when he wasn’t prepared for it.

“Who’s the Castiel cosplayer?” Peter whispers.

“Constantine.” Dick presses his lips together, holding back a few choice words. Louder, he speaks to the man in question. “Hey, what’s the plan?”

“You stay there and babysit that brat that looks suspiciously like you, and I follow Zatanna’s plan so she doesn’t kill me.” Constantine puffs out some smoke. Peter wrinkles his nose at both being called a brat and the cigarette. “Though I figure she’s trying to kill me anyway. Death by flying fuckin’ rock, like I’m a dinosaur or something.”

“You are pretty ancient.” Peter gripes.

Constantine clicks his tongue, displeased. He pulls out a pack of cards from a pocket and starts shuffling them. “Who even are you?”

“If you bothered to answer my calls, you’d know.” Dick retorts.

“Ah. Lost my phone to a pig.” Pig? “But I’m cheered to see you wanted me to know your personal business, Batman.” Batman!?

“It’s Nightwing again.”

Constantine blinks. He pulls out eight cards from the top of the deck, and points one of them at Dick. “Since when? You were Batman last time I saw you.”

Dick’s brow furrows. “I saw you a couple months after Bruce came back. I wasn’t Batman then.”

“You were Batman?” Peter touches his heart, aghast.

Constantine scratches his temple with the eight cards, pocketing the rest inside their box and putting them away. “You learn somethin’ new every day.”

“I’m feeling very not chill with this guy being in charge of something.” Peter declares.

“Better than a half-pint like you.” Constantine side eyes him.

“I was doing great before you two got here!” Is it wrong to want to use Mjolnir to knock this guy upside the head?

“Yeah, that why it looks like a war zone? You-” There’s a thunderous screech and Constantine jumps out of his skin. Up in the sky, Zatarra has pointed her hat up at Loki, but it’s now five times as big as it was before. She leans it on her hip, bracing it as a giant white rabbit leaps out of the hat and almost crushes Loki.

Zatarra shoots Constantine the most withering warning scowl Peter has ever seen. Constantine gulps nervously.

“That’s my cue.” A black portal appears in front of Constantine. “Stay out of the way, would ya?”

One of the cards in Constantine’s hand falls out, fluttering to the ground. Peter hurries forward and picks it up. “Wait, you-”

“Upbupbupbup. What did I just say?” He pokes Peter in the forehead, stopping him from getting closer. And with that, steps into the portal before Peter can return the card.

…Did he just poke Peter?

He turns around to see if Dick caught that too. Based on the nervous grimace Dick is giving him, he had. Peter clutches the card in his hand, his gaze zeroing in on Constantine when he reappears above them. Constantine places the card on the flat surface of the floating rock, then opens another portal.

Peter looks at his own card. The back of it is blue and fancy, but he’s never really seen a deck of cards up close, so he doesn’t know what to call it. He does know that there are only four types of cards: heart, spade, diamond, and club. This card has only the delicate black and white image of a dove.

“Okay, let’s figure this out.” Dick holds his hands up placatingly.

The angel on his shoulder (that sounds a lot like Dick) tells him to listen to his Dad’s silent question to not be so irritated by the man’s brazen rudeness. To get Constantine’s attention and return the card to him.

The devil (that sounds like himself) says the man poked his forehead, called him short, and annoyed Dick.

The rabbit shrieks, the thudding pitter patter of its feet picking up pace.

Loki has shifted again, but this is nothing like the other forms he has taken so far. At first, Peter only sees a long, hulking shadow unraveling itself from a coil. Then, shining green scales catch on the light of Zatarra’s spells. Loki has turned into a great snake, at least 60 feet long, maybe more. He slithers around the flying rocks, hissing and spitting at Zatarra, who disappears in a poof of smoke right before Loki strikes.

He smacks into the rocks, having less space than he anticipated. He chases after the hare, deftly avoiding Zatarra’s spells- but most of them bounce right off of his scales.

He snaps at the rabbit as it jumps out of reach. Loki converges in on the creature, trying to wrap himself around the rabbit to squeeze it. The flying rocks are slowly converging in on themselves, closing the gaps and making a sphere around the fight.

Constantine has moved on to the third card.

It must show on Peter’s face what he’s already planning to do. Dick drops his hands to put them on his hips, sighing with defeat.

“I have to-”

“ Yeahhhh , I figured.” He glances up at the fight, debating with himself. He looks back at Peter. He shakes his head to himself, then reaches out to ruffle Peter’s hair. “Go finish this. Rub it in John’s face. And Loki’s too, while you’re at it.”

Peter grins widely. He knew Dick would get it. He’d have never accomplished that if he was back home. Tony would have said Hell, no, do you think you’re immortal?

“Be right back!”

Without his webshooters, this is gonna be a lot harder. There’s a lot of moving pieces, and he doesn’t know yet where to place this card. He zeroes in on the closest rock, a few yards above him, and jumps.

Sticking onto the underside, he keeps out of all three of the sorcerers’ sights. Peter jumps from rock to rock, having to wait for some to get closer to him. He sneaks looks at what Constantine is doing, though it’s hard given that Loki is all over the place, trying to catch that rabbit. Or is it a hare? Not important.

He follows Constantine, trying to pick out what the other is thinking. The old fart is keeping low and in the shadows to stay out of Loki’s view, probably to avoid getting eaten alive by a giant snake. He’s now on the fifth card, placing it on the ground like he did the others. He doesn’t do anything special or magicky, he just… sets it there.

What’s the pattern here? Peter knows next to nothing about magic, but everything has a pattern.

All of the cards have been placed on rocks that are flat, and facing up. The rest of the rocks have been tilted to make the sphere that Loki and Zatarra are inside of. They’re also all on the outside, given that Constantine has been hiding, and he can’t do that inside the sphere.

Zatarra probably did that on purpose. She’s the one controlling the rocks.

Peter hops around, going to the top of the sphere to try and see better. Constantine is on the sixth card, and it looks like he’s now realized there aren’t enough. He hurriedly pats his pockets, and goes back to check the last rock he was on. Peter follows from above, holding back a snicker.

Okay, there are rocks on the outside that seem too evenly spaced to be coincidence. The problem?

There are only seven of them.

Peter goes back up the the very top, looking above the sphere. There’s no more rock, only gray, cloudy sky. That leaves only one other place: underneath the sphere.

He peers through the cracks between two rocks, which are getting closer and closer together as the seconds pass by. The hare scampers past, big feet shaking the rock Peter is on.

hide!

Peter ducks and presses his back to the rock, just as Loki slithers after the hare. Constantine passes by down below, placing the seventh card down, fretting about where the last went. His heart pounding, Peter checks again through the rapidly closing gap.

The rocks down there are not converging together, but instead opening further, leaving a circle at the bottom. Zatanna is teleporting around the sphere, shooting spells at Loki that always end up leading him away from the gap. In the middle of that circle is a rock facing up.

jump for it! go go go!

Peter slips through the gap. It closes behind him, sealing them in.

He jumps.

Loki finally catches the hare in his jaws, sinking his fangs into the hare’s neck. Time slows down as Peter falls past him, the card outstretched in his hand. His eyes meet the big glassy snake eye, in which he can see his reflection. His pupil dilates when he recognizes Peter.

Peter looks away.

He flips in the air, landing on the rock. He places the card down, and it immediately begins to glow a harsh, golden light.

“Good job, Peter!”

Zatanna drops down next to him, pulling him away from the card. Everything is blurry- Zatanna’s hands, her bag, the card, and inside the sphere. The hare disappears in a poof of smoke. Loki attempts to slither down and out of the opening on the bottom, but a golden force field prevents him. If Peter reached up, he’d be able to touch it.

She opens the tote bag at her side, more golden light spilling out of it. The source of the light is a box. He thinks. He tries to focus on it, but it hurts his eyes, making them water.

Zatarra places the box over the dove card. She waves her wand over the lid, a rope unlatching from a lock, and the lid opens up on its own.

“Arodnap!”

The box rattles as a burst of light shoots out of it, engulfing the panicked Loki until he is no longer visible inside the sphere. Peter clutches both his hands together, praying the guilt at failing here doesn’t eat him alive.

The box shudders and the light grows and grows and grows. Zatarra covers Peter with her body, turning the both of them completely away from the light.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

goodbye

Tink, tink!

Peter blinks his eyes open. The light is gone, but what’s that noise? Zatarra moves away from him, breathing out with relief, “It worked.”

It did? Peter drops his arms from his face.

In place of where the box had been a moment ago is a big, clear mason jar with air holes poked in the lid. Inside is a 2 foot long, green snake, trying to bite the glass over and over. tink tink tink!

Zatarra jumps to her feet, cheering, “It worked!”

Peter frowns. “Yeah, it worked.”