The Illusionist: A Marvel/Loki fanfic

Safe House

Blackice lands on the round peninsula sticking out of Stark tower and lets Tony run inside and put on one of his suits before we fly off into the night together.

"So where are we going?" I ask.

"To a friend of mine's house. He'll keep you safe for a few days, long enough to find you another hideout. Might want to shrink your bird when we get there, though." I look down at Blackice and he caws the go ahead back. I can shrink him when we get there. We fly into Queens and land in the backyard of one of the houses, me shrinking Blackice as we land and holding him on my arm. Tony holds me up and chucks a rock at a window. It opens and someone jumps out, landing perfectly in front of us. A teenage boy with unruly brown hair, a tall, firm build and pj's on stands in front of us.

"What are you doing here, Tony?" he whispers loudly. "It's the middle of the night and-whoa. Who is that?" He points to me. "And what happened now?"

"Look, I don't have much time. He just needs a place to stay for a few days," Tony explains. "He got SHIELD tranquilized, so he's a little wobbly." The boy sighs.

"You're lucky Aunt May's out." He takes me from Tony and walks me towards the house. I hear the roar of Tony's repulsors as he flies away.

"So. What's your name?" the boy asks.

"Kier," I reply. "Yours?"

"Peter. Hey, are you related to Thor, by any chance? You have the same accent as him." How should I answer to this?

"Very distantly," I reply eventually. I can't reveal too much of my identity yet. Blackice jumps to my shoulder as Peter carries me piggyback up the stairs and then sets me down again, keeping his arm around my waist the whole time.

"That's cool," he replies to my earlier comment. "Thor's really nice, except when he gets mad."

"I know," I reply truthfully. He actually makes a good dad, unlike one guy I know. Peter walks me into an almost empty room and sets me down on the bed. He sits down next to me and takes me in.

"You look a lot like Loki," he says. I tense up but keep myself from panicking. He can't find out. "Except for your eyes," Peter continues. "They're nothing like Loki's. Bright and calm, yet devious." No ones ever described my eyes anything except ugly. This comment strikes my heart and makes me feel some respect for this boy. I look into his eyes and see a totally different story. His eyes are humorous, with undertones of loss, pain, and deep loyalty. He smiles quirkily at me and I grin back. I think we're going to be friends.