When You Know, You Know.

I Owe You A Black Eye (And Two Kisses)

Stark Tower, New York City.
10:42 pm, May 7th, 2012.

The door slid open smoothly, a small hiss coming from the seal, and Tony rubbed his eyes tiredly as he stepped through it, massaging his temple in irritation.

For hours, he'd been staring at the same two faces, the same two Asgardian thorns in his fucking side, and he felt like he needed a drink, something that would hit him so hard across the face that his mind would go blank.

He flicked up the camera system for the building onto his watch, a smile passing over his lips as he watched Loki pace angrily, and he turned towards his study, counting down the seconds.

The only thing the god seemed to be able to repeat was that he couldn't remember, was that he didn't know, was that Raya's anger was undeserved, and he could hear his snarky tone tainting his thoughts as he searched through his drawers for his vodka; surely he'd have some Golden Grain lying around here.

Raya's outburst hadn't stopped replaying in his mind, and he couldn't downplay the fear he'd felt when she'd moved so quickly, when she'd grabbed onto Loki; how her rage seemed to burn through the air.

She'd been wearing a destabilisier, something built for gods and The Hulk, and she'd still managed to burn through metal, to melt Loki's skin, yet another thing the god hadn't shut the fuck up about during their hours of interrogation.

It had been two days since he'd seen her, but he'd been able to hear her.

Nat had told her to use the training rooms, and as far as he knew, she hadn't left them since. He'd only been able to make out slight yells of frustration, followed by the sounds of breaking wood or sand flying out of punching bags.

He couldn't have imagined that the merest mention of the Chitauri would've inspired all of this chaos, and as he finally wrapped his hand around a bottle, the memory of her furious expression as she met his eyes sent a chill down his spine.

He'd seen something in them, something like flames, flickering deep within in her irises as crimson swirled out into her sclera, and he'd felt a primal sense of utter horror, pinned under her angry gaze.

It was like she could see through him, as if she had reached into his mind and begun to rip it apart, scouring every thought he'd ever had, and he shook his head against the dread that began to burn at him, quickly untwisting the lid from his bottle.

It was almost like it hadn't clicked in his mind that she was truly dangerous, even though he'd seen what she'd done to Natasha. Avoidable, he'd thought then, his mind already working to find a way they could avoid her touch. When she'd advanced on Loki, he'd been able to train a sniper on her immediately, he'd been able to anticipate what she was doing.

He'd made a mistake however.

He'd assumed she would be predictable, like Loki. That she'd adhere to a moral code, like Thor.

But the look in her eyes, the way her face contorted in rage... if Thor hadn't stopped her, if he hadn't pleaded, Tony was very sure she would've killed Loki right in front of them.

That was the thought that scared him the most. The fact that even though she was out of her depth, even though her powers had been culled, she was still capable of causing this much damage, and she'd done it so easily.

He sipped from his bottle, large gulps of vodka disappearing down his throat, and he hissed in pain as it hit him, burning through his chest as he forced himself to swallow.

Fuck, he was exhausted.

Coughing slightly, he leant forward towards his computer, tapping a few keys, and a voice perked up from the screen.