Glass

Part 1

Loki tried hard not to grit his teeth when he listened the monologue on the other end of the phone. Damn his father, who thought the best way for him to redeem himself would be to set him up in the hometown of the Avengers. Double damned for leaving him without his main source of magic! He pressed the heel against his temples, holding back another swear.

No, that wasn't quite right – he had his protective magic, the kind that reacted when he was being assaulted. Courtesy to his mother, who had deemed it unwise to leave him without his main weapon in a city filled with people, who were keen to finish him off. He was supposed to be working for betterment of the establishments he destroyed by being turned into construction worker. With a big mark on his back – you can through things at me, I won't bite! Or let your tools fall and see if they bounce back from human flesh!

That was a year ago.

Right now he was busy hiding behind the half-finished wall of a building with three times the human size frost giant roaring and mashing the rest of it in search of his sorry ass. When he first arrived, he'd received a mobile with his contact on Earth, pack of money so he wouldn't starve to death before his sentence was carried out and "good luck" from his brother, who had been kind enough to get him lodgings in the most poorest area of the city which hadn't suffered any damage and would not deflate his already meager wallet.

He'd counted his chances with the frost giant, deemed him to be too big to fight on his own without his full magical capacity and opted to call the number he'd sworn never to call. It didn't say in his listing, who the person in the other end would be and at that time he could say he was a bit busy getting used to living in poverty to care. He should have, he swore to himself as he huddled by the wall behind the orange concrete mixer and it's makeshift fortification of cement and sand.

It was his lucky day the monster hadn't screamed his name yet or he was sure someone would point at his direction. Which is why he put up the angry snark from the other end and recognized Stark's voice.

"Stark?" He tried to cut in in his angry triad how he was not suppose to contact any of the superheroes unless of an emergency or if he was close to death. "I am in a bit of a pickle here," he used the expression he'd picked up among humans, "I wouldn't be calling unless it was an emergency!"

There was a pregnant pause on the other end. "Uh, no." Stark said. "I would try my luck with 911, if I were you. Do not think any of us cares enough if Thor's little brother," Loki knew he used the term deliberately to irk him, "is having his ass kicked to the four winds! You caused us enough trouble already! Take responsibility for your actions once in your life and clean up after yourself!"

The phone went dead and he sighed, letting it drop from his ear while sinking his concrete covered fingers into his short cut hair.

"Shit." He drawled, jumping as the monster sent another part of the wall they'd finished only hours ago flying through the air by his wand. He poked the small hole bigger behind his back and sneaked a look at it.

"The fucker is here because of you!" His boss showed up out of nowhere and grabbing at his overalls pulled him to his back. "Do something!"

"Like what?" He asked, using one of his these days rare glares. He didn't search for conflict if he could avoid it.

Not with bosses at least, and not with anybody else as far as he was concerned, because he needed this job to pay for food and bills. It was already hard when he had to get a paper from social office to show them a piece of paper that they were not allowed to treat him as slave and send him away without his paycheck. One little thing he still had power over – he could send social worker at them if they fired him after month's work so they wouldn't have to pay him. It was odd now, staring up at the man, how such small things became so important in person's life if you spent a week living on nothing, because his first employers had done just that. Everything else, however, was mere dream. Like having money to stitch the wounds others caused on him, because his personal protection bracelets somehow didn't work when something was sent flying in his direction.

"For fuck's sake! You destroyed quarter of a city – you can take down one fucking... giant... something!"

"Frost giant." he supplied.

"Whatever! Kill it or you're fired!"

"Oh, goody." He mumbled. "How?"

"You weren't hired for your looks! Use your brain!"

The man's eyes widened as he saw something coming in their direction and then he ran, leaving him to face off the huge block of window glass smashing at his side, inches from his body and sending tons of shards flying. He instinctively covered his face and turned his stomach away, yelping as the shards hit his backside and feeling something bigger dig into his side.

He let out a scream in the moment of silence, his eyes watering up from the pain piercing his side and turned enough to see the shard. His backside all ached from the small pieces now embedded in his back, but he guessed the big blood oozing wound was more important.

He moved to kneel and then pulled it out slowly, praying to whoever was listening to keep it intact and not have any thin strips break off into his wound.

He knew the giant had hard him, because he felt the earth shake as the monster ran to his direction. Suddenly he didn't care if it would break, hasting up the move to get the big thing out and, realizing he had no other weapon, held it out like a dagger as he pressed his bracelets together while his eyes shut from fear. He felt the sizzling gathering the energy from his close proximity and through him before the sounds dulled and without further due, he felt the air from the blast cleaning the debris from nearby together with loud crash and shaking of the earth. He dared to peek and gasped, when he saw the monster laying few feet away. He let his bracelets down and stared at it.

"Oh," so that's how it works, he guessed, walked over to the monster's side carefully and used the moment given to him to plunge the same glass he'd just pulled out from his own side into his eye, through the soft bone behind it and straight into the frost giant's brain. Then he wobbled back and turned slowly, taking in the destruction around him. How many would believe he wasn't behind it personally? They needed a culprit and he had a hairy feeling he was going to get the bill.

He sighed, hanging his head on his chest while he desperately tried not to laugh. He didn't stick around, didn't see the point for it. Why stick around, when he'd hear about it later anyway? He was sure in one thing – he would not see his paycheck this month. And right now, he needed some quiet to deal with his own wounds.