#it's so funny like but underneath the layers its like oh poor darlings but like they're just so funny sdgasd

[cursivebloodlines]

Aaron narrowed his eyes suspiciously, as though scrutinising Aster's face to determine whether or not they were telling the truth. "Hmmm...I don't know. You could be saying that to pity me, having me on. Or some ulterior motive, who knows?" Of course, by the end, he was joking around. Typical Aaron. Not that he wasn't already joking, that was. When wasn't he messing? Being around Aster was always like a breath of fresh air. They understood him far better than most other people did, and that he was always grateful for. Maybe he had been a shoddy friend in the past, but they always respected him despite how flaky he could be. They were one of those people where regardless of how much time passed, whenever they met up with each other, they simply picked up from where they left off. He trusted them more than he trusted plenty of people, which was something he valued dearly. It was something to treasure, that was for sure. He probably never told them enough. But at least it was something he could work on. It was something he was always trying to do. Working on himself. Working on being better. How could anyone be happy with themselves if they didn't at least try to work on it?

"Please, work is a means to an end. But your fishes' wedding? A once in a lifetime opportunity. Would've told them to stuff it, if I'd have known," he quipped, puffing out his cheeks slightly before he laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. The more Aster laughed, the more Aaron laughed, too. Their laugh was contagious and infectious, he couldn't help himself. Even if others around them seemed less than impressed, he didn't care. He was used to receiving that great little gift from his family, so he couldn't care less about the disapproving looks of strangers he wouldn't see again. Probably. it wasn't his fault if they were so punny! Pun not intended. Or was it? "Quite often, huh? I bet you do," he said with a grin. that, he could definitely believe. "But, hear me out: those people aren't me. So, I should at least level up or two, right?" he teased, chuckling softly. Yep, he definitely needed to make more of an effort with them. He really had missed their company.

How has life been? That was a good question. One that had Aaron thinking about a fair bit. "Damn, and I was only just getting started," he replied to the earlier comment, perhaps a little late but that was because he was trying to think of how to answer. "Ah, you know. Nothing too exciting here really. Work, sleep, repeat. Pretty sad if you ask me." There was probably more to it but these days, that was just how it felt. "How about you? Surely, you've been up to something or other!"

Aster chuckled softly at the mans words "Well don't worry I've always held you on a sort of pedestal myself." they admitted. Perhaps the reason the two had always gotten along was the fact that they were both sorta the misfits of their respective families. Where as Aaron might not have exactly known who he was Aster new exactly who they were, and their family hadn't exactly been accepting of it. They didn't mind however that was in the past. They were better off on their own anyways, could do what they wanted without having to worry about the lectures that followed. They didn't care or at least that's what they told themself. Aaron had always been someone that Aster could be themself around. Perhaps they didn't go into to much detail about their wild partying nights, the man did work for the law after all, however Aster knew that if they needed someone Aaron was just a phone call away... no questions asked and they hoped that the man knew it was the same for him.

Aster sighed shaking their head "I just thought that you were busy... I know that work can be demanding you know?" they asked. Aster couldn't help but laugh as the puns kept rolling. The two were both a fit of laugher, probably causing other tables to look in their direction but at the moment Aster couldn't care less. They were to engrossed in Aaron and his company. They smiled as Aaron started to look them over, as if examining them in an attempt to decide if he was in love with them or not. They used their hands to frame their face, laughing when Aaron admitted that they were still hot as ever "Thank you thank you." they hummed "I hate to tell you that I get love confessions quite often though so you'll have to do better than that to blow my pants off." they hummed. Aster didn't really care what the reason was for the sudden reach out from the man. They were just glad to be back in his company. It had been far to long in their opinion.

"Alright enough with our antics." Aster spoke, the grin still plastered on their face "How has life been?" they questioned. The two kept in touch through the occasional text or telephone call but there was still a lot that went missed through those types of communication.

[tinylilemrys]

Read it on AO3

Rating: T

Word count: 2,245

Summary:  Aziraphale hasn't slept in six thousand years – by choice, mind you – and doesn't intend to start now. Being that vulnerable for those eight hours scares him more than he cares to admit. However, being with Crowley night after night might be starting to change his mind.

The night is the hardest time to be alive and 4 am knows all my secrets.”

– Poppy Z. Brite

---

Not for the first time, an enormous snore rips through the silence of the flat, causing Aziraphale to jump and the ink from his fountain pen to splatter, scarring his meticulous notes with unsightly black spots.

“Oh bugger,” he says, setting down the pen and leaning back in his chair, just in time for another loud snore. Annoyed as he is at accidentally ruining over an hour of work, he can’t help but smile at the second snore. It’s a reminder that he’s in what is now their flat and that the demon he loves is just a few rooms away, fast asleep in the bed that he knows is now supposed to be for them to share. Not that he’s shared it yet. In his over six thousand years on Earth, he’s never slept and doesn’t really see the point in starting now.

“Point, Angel?” was Crowley’s response when Aziraphale told him this. “There’s no point to sleeping – at least not for us. It’s just a fucking good feeling to close your eyes for a while and forget about the rest of the bloody world, then wake up what feels like moments later and realise you’ve just skipped through nine hours of existence for free. I’m telling you, Angel, She knew what She was doing when she created sleep. I’ll give Her that one.”

“Well, we’ll just have to agree to disagree then,” Aziraphale replied, even as he was helping pick out bed linen that suited them both. “Sleep still seems like a terrible thing to me. Those poor humans leave themselves so vulnerable for the eight most dangerous hours of the day and to top it all off, their dreams aren’t even always pleasant. They have nightmares, Crowley, nightmares, the poor things.”

A lady looking at sheets a few feet away from them gave Aziraphale a funny look and hurriedly walked off, ending the argument for the time being.

Taking the inconvenient snore as an opportunity to take a break, Aziraphale stands and stretches. Perhaps the interruption was a good thing – he does so frequently forget to take a breather when he’s concentrating on a task and he knows that can’t be healthy in the long run.

He briefly considers fixing himself a pot of tea and seeing if he can use a cheeky miracle to salvage his notes, but another, softer snore draws him to the bedroom to check on Crowley.

Aziraphale walks in to see him spread out on his stomach like a starfish, one bare leg poking out from underneath the duvet. This is a Crowley far less dignified than he ever lets himself be when he’s awake and the fact Aziraphale is the only one he’s permitted to see him this way, makes his heart race in a way that he’s come to expect in matters where Crowley is involved. He makes his way over to the bed and carefully slides Crowley’s leg back under the covers before gently brushing a strand of hair from his forehead and pressing a soft kiss to the newly exposed skin. Asleep, even as undignified as he is at times, Aziraphale can see glimpses of the angel before the fall.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if he brought his book through here and sat with Crowley while he read, if for nothing else than the sake of being close to him.

His mind made up, Aziraphale collects the novel he’s been meaning to read for the past few weeks, turns off all the lights in the house, and settles down on the bed next to his demon, on top of the covers.

“Let there be the softest, gentlest light,” he whispers, fearing that turning on the bedside light will wake Crowley. To his relief, the small warm glow now hovering over his book doesn’t seem to bother Crowley at all. Figuring that he’s already abusing his miracles tonight, he throws in another one to stop Crowley snoring. There was no point in him being startled every half hour when it was really very easy to cure.

After a few hours of reading scored by the soft sound of Crowley’s deep breathing, Aziraphale holds his breath as the demon suddenly turns in bed and throws an arm around his waist. He’s sure he must have done it by accident – after all, he is fast asleep – but it makes him feel safe and warm in a way that has nothing to do with actual safety and warmth. Grinning from ear to ear, he continues exploring the plights of poor Emma and her ill-advised romantic meddling.

Had he not been concentrating on his book so intently, he would have noticed a similar (albeit far sleepier) grin on the demon next to him.

---

After that first night, Aziraphale spends every night next to Crowley in bed, reading through the night while his partner sleeps. Initially, he stays above the covers, but Crowley insists on having an arm around him every night, always above the covers. This, after a while, leads Aziraphale to worry that he’s getting cold which leads him to begin climbing under the covers so that when the inevitable arm snakes its way around his waist, it’s at least still under the duvet. This, of course, also necessitates far more comfortable attire which, for Aziraphale, means removing his coat, waistcoat, trousers and undoing several buttons on his shirt. He’s usually always fastidiously dressed so being this naked feels strange, but if it means that Crowley and his cuddly arm stay warm all night, he doesn’t mind.

Before the Nopeocalypse, in the six thousand years Aziraphale and Crowley had known each other, they had only properly touched four times. Aziraphale knows because the memory of each seemed burned into his skin. At first, they had feared that being a holy being, any physical contact Aziraphale might have with Crowley would cause him harm, but after Aziraphale drunkenly bumped into Crowley one night after leaving a raging party in ancient Rome, they discovered this wasn’t the case. After that, it was purely social awkwardness that kept them from venturing any further than friendly nods and polite conversation. Discovering how much Crowley craves physical contact has been quite the eye-opener. Aziraphale blames it on Crowley’s inner snake and insists that most nights he’s more python than man, despite Crowley’s half-hearted protests to the contrary.

Tonight, finding himself unusually distracted from his book about the history of movie musicals by the arm draped around him and how peaceful the man attached to it looks, he decides to try something new and daring. Setting his book down on the table next to him, Aziraphale sinks further under the covers and slips his own arm around Crowley. In response, the demon pulls him closer, so that there is now hardly any space between them and Aziraphale’s head is resting on his chest.

And that’s where Aziraphale spends the night – wide awake, lost in thought, but with the steady, reassuring rhythm of Crowley’s heartbeat against his cheek.

---

The day after the all-night cuddle, Crowley announces that he’s going out for a few hours. When he returns, he’s holding a carefully wrapped box and wearing the kind of eager expression Aziraphale never would have thought him capable of when they first met.

“Did I miss an anniversary?” asks Aziraphale, taking the package from Crowley confusedly. “Or have we decided to start celebrating birthdays after all?”

“No, nothing like that. This is partly because it’s something you seem to need and partly because I just wanted to spoil you.” Crowley is beaming as he removes his sunglasses and sets them down on their telephone table. “Go on, open it.”

Deciding he’s never received a gift from Crowley that hasn’t been perfect and having no reason to doubt that this one will be similarly wonderful, he carefully undoes the wrapping paper, pulls out the box inside it and lifts the lid to reveal a breathtaking off-white pyjama set.

“Darling, this is so beautiful,” he says, pulling it out to get a better look at it. The fabric is impossibly light and soft and smooth in his hand.

“It’s 100% mulberry silk,” says Crowley, seemingly unable to contain his glee at how much Aziraphale likes his gift. “I figured it can’t be comfortable wearing your everyday clothes to bed every night, even without several of the layers, so I wanted to get you something just as luxurious as your other clothes, but more comfortable for bed. I take it you like it?”

“It’s perfect,” Aziraphale says, closing the small distance between them to kiss him. “Goodness, Crowley, this may well be the most beautiful, thoughtful gift I’ve ever received. How can I ever thank you enough?”

“You’ve thanked me plenty in other ways.” Crowley presses a kiss to Aziraphale’s nose and then grins wickedly. “Besides, it’s not completely selfless – I’m very much looking forward to seeing how devastatingly handsome you look in them later tonight.”

Aziraphale laughs and kisses him again, and this one is longer, full of everything he’s feeling but doesn’t quite have the words to express in this moment.

“Fuck, I just love you so much, Angel.”

Aziraphale freezes for a moment while Crowley is searching his face, hopefully, probably checking that he hadn’t misread the signs from Aziraphale. They’ve both known that what they feel for each other is as deep as that for quite a while now – they wouldn’t have moved in together had they not – but it’s the first time either of them has said it out loud. It’s a lot to process. A second later though, it’s like a balloon has been set loose in his chest. He suddenly feels he might float away at any moment.

Crowley loves him and was even vulnerable enough to be the first to say it.

And when he thinks about it, Crowley has always made himself the more vulnerable of the two of them. He was the one who first dared to strike up a conversation between them. He was the one who kept approaching Aziraphale with offers of friendship, despite the very real risk to himself. He was the one who came back to Aziraphale after their nineteenth-century argument. He was the one who said in the softest tone he had ever heard anyone use, let alone a demon, that he would take Aziraphale anywhere he wanted to go. He was the one who had cried at losing the most important person in the world to him. And now he’s the one putting honestly into words what he’s felt for years, hoping that the man he loves will say it back.

And suddenly Aziraphale understands it – why sharing sleep with someone is such a big deal. All those hours Crowley is asleep, looking however undignified he looks, knowing that there’s a chance anything could happen in those hours, knowing that there is an entity from the opposite side of the ongoing celestial war who, up until embarrassingly recently, continued to choose duty over his heart, likely not knowing if the entity would go back to choosing his duty – it’s all vulnerability. And more than that, better than that, it’s all trust.

Crowley trusts him. Crowley loves him. And the least he can do after being on the forefront of someone’s mind for six millennia is to let him know that he’s been at the forefront of his.

“I love you, too, Crowley. With all my heart,” says Aziraphale softly. “And to prove it, I’m going to try it. Tonight.”

“What… that?” asks Crowley, his yellow eyes as wide as dinner plates.

“No not that. I’m going to try sleeping.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Angel, I appreciate it, but you don’t have to sleep just because you think that’s what I want.” Crowley takes his hand and begins tracing circles across the back of it with his thumb. “It’s more than enough for me knowing that you just want to be close to me every night, that you chose to ever climb into that bed in the first place, that you wanted to share a home with me. Being able to say ‘Honey, I’m hoooome’ in the most annoying voice possible whenever I walk through the front door already makes me the luckiest bastard alive. You’ve given me so much.”

“I understand that, darling, of course, and I deeply appreciate it. The thing is, however, without you realising it, you’ve been teaching me a lot over the past few millennia. And something I’ve learned is that if I can’t trust you for eight hours every night, Anthony J. Crowley, I can’t trust anyone. So that’s what I’m going to do. I’ll sleep.”

Crowley is just staring at him, dumbfounded, and Aziraphale feels a small sense of pride at having rendered him somewhat speechless.

“Perchance to dream,” he adds, unable to suppress a smile at his silly joke. And though Crowley rolls his eyes, he’s smiling too.

“Isn’t that about suicide?”

“Ah. Right you are. Maybe not the best quote for this occasion.”

Crowley laughs and kisses him again by way of reply.

Later that night, curled up in the first pair of pyjamas he’s ever owned, with Crowley’s strong arms wrapped around him, Aziraphale falls asleep and dreams of a garden, a wall, a demon, and the very first storm.

[hymn2000]

Chiquitita - MCU AU fanfic - C28

Story summary: Something strange is happening. Someone from space has made their way to Earth, armed with a strange weapon. Targeting teenagers, their ray gun, when fired, turns the victim into a toddler. The Avengers set out to stop this, and find a way to reverse the effects. However, they don’t all come out of the battle unscathed.

Previous chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22   23 24  25  26 27

Part of my Frostiron and Spiderson series.

Warnings/themes: de-aging, family stuff, corporal punishment (early chapters only), mental health stuff, hurt/comfort, hospital/medical stuff

Chapter 28 - Heartaches

-

Morning did come. Loki had managed to sleep a little bit, but now he was awake, lying on his back with Peter snuggled up on his chest, still asleep. He could hear the clock ticking, and he could hear the birds outside, as well as the distant sounds of early morning traffic. He could hear his pulse beating in his ears too, and that was the loudest sound of all. 

-

Tony asked Loki to do breakfast while he got Peter dressed. Loki blinked at them when they joined him in the kitchen.

“Are those..?”

“The clothes he wore that day? Yeah”

Loki swallowed. “Why?”

“They look good on him”

“That’s not your real reason” Loki said, wincing. His chest hurt. “I’m not ready to do this”

“I don’t care. It’s happening, no matter what”

“Just a few more days, Anthony. That’s all I ask. We can talk about this”

“Is that food nearly ready?”

Loki stayed quiet and served breakfast, keeping his eyes cast down for the most part.

“Thank you, daddy!” Peter grinned. “My dinosaur plate!”

“Yes, your dinosaur plate” Loki said. “And your dinosaur cutlery, and even one of your dinosaur cups”

Peter giggled and picked up his fork. Loki sat down beside him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. 

“Loki?”

“Mm?”

“How are you doing?”

Loki shrugged, picking up his fork. It should be perfectly obvious how he was doing. His heart was thudding and he felt hollow and shaky inside, and he was certain that much was evident. 

“Daddy?”

Loki cleared his throat. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“Where are we going today?” Peter asked. “Park or swimming?”

“We’ll see”

“You said that yesterday!” Peter pouted. “I wanna go out!”

“Later, darling” Tony said. “Finish your breakfast”

-

Peter was happily pushing his baby doll round the corridors in its buggy when he heard the front door open. He left his baby buggy and leant against the seal at the top of the stairs. His face lit up when he saw who it was.

“Uncle Thor!���

Thor put a finger to his lips. Peter gasped and copied him. He stepped back, waiting till Thor reached the landing before holding his arms up to him.

“Hi!”

“Hello, little Peter” Thor smiled, lifting him up for a cuddle. “What are you up to today?”

“I’m taking my baby for a walk!” Peter said. “You can put me down now: I must get back to it”

Thor laughed and did as he was asked. Peter grabbed his buggy. 

“Daddies are in the living room” he said. “I didn’t know you were coming today!”

“I did tell your daddies” Thor said, walking with him. “How’s your baby today?”

“She’s ok” Peter said. “We’re waiting”

“Oh. What for?”

“Daddy hasn’t said if we’re going to the park or swimming today. We want to go out”

“Oh, I see” Thor said. “Let’s go and join your daddies and then we’ll see how the day goes”

“Daddy keeps saying that” Peter said, wrinkling his nose. “I need to find my drink. I’ll join you in a minute”

Thor chuckled. “See you in a minute then”

-

It was obvious as soon as Thor went into the living room that Loki wasn’t in there by choice.

“Good afternoon” Thor said.

Tony smiled at him. “Hey, Thor. Have you passed the kid on the way in?”

“Yes. He said he had to find his drink but would just us in a minute”

Tony shook his head fondly. “He’s a funny kid”

“How are you, Loki?” Thor asked.

Loki merely narrowed his eyes at him. He pulled away from Tony and stood up.

“Loki? Hey, where are you going?”

Loki ignored him and walked out. Tony sighed. 

“It’s better to just leave him" he said. “He’s not feeling great”

“I can imagine. He looks so pale and tired”

“Mm. His heart was going a mile a minute just now, too. I know he’s on the wrong side of the table, but I do feel a bit sorry for him. His heart is in the right place, I suppose”

“Yes, poor Loki. How are you feeling about it all?”

“You know, I think I’m gonna miss the toddler. But he never should’ve ended up this way, and I need my teenager back. It’s gonna be a hard day. But it’ll be worth it... right?”

Thor squeezed his hand. “We’ve spent hours going over this. We’re doing the right thing”

Tony squeezed Thor’s hand back. “I know”

-

Loki found Peter in the back room, searching for his cup, with his baby doll balanced on his hip.

“Everything ok, my darling?” Loki asked gently.

Peter looked up. “I can’t find my drink!”

“Did daddy give you a cup after lunch?”

Peter shook his head.

“I don’t think you’ve got one on the go, then” Loki said. “Why don’t we go to the kitchen and sort you one?”

Peter nodded. “Can I leave the buggy in here?”

“Of course” Loki said. “Come on”

Peter trotted after him to the kitchen.

“Which cup would you like, darling?” 

“Dinosaur” Peter said. “Where’s my rocket?”

“In the living room, chicken” Loki said, filling one of Peter’s dinosaur sippy cups with orangeade. “Would you like a little snack or anything while we’re in here? You could have something from my special cupboard if you like?”

“Um...” Peter shook his head. “No, I’m not hungry”

“Ok, darling” 

Loki handed him his sippy cup. Peter took it with one hand so he didn’t have to put down his baby to drink. Loki watched him for a moment, biting his thumb.

“I like fizzy orange” Peter said, lowering his cup. “Can we go and see uncle Thor now?”

“If you like...”

Peter nodded. “I like uncle Thor!” 

“Uncle Thor likes you too” 

“Are my other uncles coming?”

“Not today, darling” Loki said. “Maybe some time in the next few weeks”

“Oh. What about mumma?”

“I don’t know”

“Oh”

“Oh indeed. What do you want to do now?”

“See uncle Thor!” Peter said. “I said that”

“Of course. Sorry. Come along, darling. Maybe you can play a game with him”

“Yes!” Peter grinned, walking along at his side. “I wanna play with my marble run! Can I play with my marble run?”

“Of course you can. You can play with whatever you like”

-

Peter demanded Loki set up his marble run for him. He hadn’t quite mastered the art of it himself, but Loki always set it up so that it zigzagged perfectly. Loki sat sorting the marbles into colour groups while Peter told Thor how to use the marble run.

“You put the marbles in the top. You can use this side or this side, or both at the same time! An’ then you just let go and it goes down to the bottom” Peter said, picking up a blue marble and dropping it in the top of the marble run.

They watched as the marble zigzagged down and shot out of the bottom of the run. Peter grinned at Thor, handing him a marble.

“Now you try!” 

“Well, since you’re offering” Thor dropped the marble in the run.

“It’s fun, see? It’s fun!”

“It’s quite satisfying to watch, isn’t it?” Thor said. 

“You wanna know what’s more fun?” 

“What’s more fun?”

Peter picked up two fistfuls of marbles and dropped them in the run. He waited until there was a marble on each level, and then pushed it over so that it fell with a clatter, the marbles scattering in all directions. Peter laughed, clapping his little hands.

“Now now, Peter, what have I told you about that?” Tony said sharply. 

Peter looked shocked for a moment, and then hung his head. He looked up at Tony.

“No more marble run?”

“Play with something else if you can’t play sensibly” Tony said.

Peter looked at Thor, shook his head, and sighed. “Parents”

Thor burst out laughing and ruffled the boys hair roughly. “You definitely take after your dads, little boy!”

He helped Peter tidy away the marbles and the marble run. Peter went over to his toy boxes, rifling through. Thor looked at Tony and Loki.

“Are you ready?”

“Let him play” Loki snapped. 

Thor nodded. Peter came back over to them, struggling with his box of farm animals. Thor took the box from him.

“Woah there, little one. You’ll drop them if you’re not careful”

“We’re gonna play farm soon” Peter said. “There’s fences and hedges and trees and everything!”

“I’ll help you set it up if you like” Thor offered.

“I wanna paint first!” 

“No, Peter” Tony said. “You painted yesterday”

“I wanna paint again! PLEASE!”

“No”

“PLEASE!!”

“Ok, just for a little bit” Loki said before Tony could say no again. “Let’s go to the kitchen”

-

Tony told Peter he could only have half an hour of painting time. Peter accepted that. He was happy messing about with his paints. Thor sat and painted with him while his parents stayed close by, tidying the kitchen and having a drink.

“Peter, your half an hour is almost up” Tony said after twenty-five minutes. “I think you’ve got time to do one more painting”

“Oh” Peter said. “Ok. I know EXACTLY what I’m gonna do!”

Peter stuck his brush in the yellow paint and started painting his hand.

“Peter!”

“No, leave him” Loki said. “He’s creating”

They watched as Peter layered the paint on and pressed his hand to the paper. Once he’d done that, he dipped the brush back into the yellow paint, painted his other hand, and pressed that to the paper, next to the first hand print. Then he rinsed his brush, dipped it in the red paint, and shakily wrote ‘Peter’ underneath the hand prints. He put his brush down, and grinned at Tony.

“Finished!” 

Tony ruffled the boys hair. “Let’s get you cleaned up”

Loki looked at the tiny hand prints. He’d done something similar with Peter weeks ago, and he was surprised the boy remembered. He looked at the paper, not sure how he was feeling.

“Loki?” Thor said gently. “Are you ok?”

Loki turned away quickly, pretending he had a text to answer. Thor didn’t push it.

Tony helped Peter wash all the paint off his skin and got him out of his painting apron.

“Tony?” Thor said.

“Yeah?” Tony said, passing Peter over to Loki.

“I think we need to think about moving things along”

“Yeah, of course” Tony nodded. He looked at Loki. “That’s fine, isn’t it, Loki?”

Loki held Peter closer, kissing him on the forehead. All of a sudden he felt sick again, much worse than before. He could feel himself shaking, and those silly tears were back in his eyes. He took a deep breath. This day was going too quickly.

-

Peter wanted to set up his farm and play, but Tony took him from Loki and kept hold of him. 

“I wanna play!” Peter squeaked, struggling. “I want to play!!”

“No, darling. Let’s have a cuddle” Tony said. “Let’s have a lovely cuddle, my little bambi-looking baby boy”

Peter pouted, wriggling. “Ok, but I want my rocket!”

Tony found it and gave it to him. “There. Now, shall we have that cuddle?”

Peter still looked a little unsure, but he settled against Tony, sighing relatively contentedly. He rested his cheek against Tony’s chest. Tony held him close, one hand on his head, the other on his lower back. 

“I love you, little boy” he said. “You’re a little sweetheart”

Peter lay against Tony’s chest. He felt funny. Why wasn’t Tony letting him play? Why did he sound so sad? Loki was sad too. Even Thor seemed a bit sad. Peter didn’t know why, and he wasn’t entirely sure if he was right, but he could definitely sense that something was up. He held tight to his rocket with one hand. 

“God, I’m starting to feel funny” Tony said, breathing in. “I’m gonna miss this”

“Let’s put it off then” Loki tried. “We’ve talked about this so much. There’s options, there’s so many reasons he can stay this way. We don’t have to do this”

“Yes, we do. We really do” Tony said, resting his head against Peter’s. “I love him, but you know what has to happen”

Tony held Peter for a long time, talking softly to him, recounting their days out and good memories, and telling him how important he was. It was so much quieter than usual. Peter was used to the radio and music playing all the time, but the speakers had been switched off today. It felt strange. 

“Ok bambino” Tony said gently. 

He looked at Loki, who was sat by his side. He was looking at him, but his eyes didn’t seem to be focusing. Tony kissed Peter firmly on the cheek, squeezing him tight.

“Why don’t you go cuddle other daddy for a while? There’s a good boy”

Peter didn’t lie against Loki’s chest when he was handed over: he put his hands on Loki’s chest so he could look at him.

“Daddy?” he said, feeling uncertain and worried. “My tummy hurts”

Loki sighed, stroking Peter’s hair gently. “I know darling. Mine does too”

“Will a cuddle make it feel better?”

“Maybe” Tears filled his eyes, and he had a hard time keeping his voice strong. “Shall we give it a try?” 

Peter nodded and lay against Loki’s chest. He looked at Tony for a moment, and then turned his head the other way. Loki was trembling, and he shook when he kissed the boys head, but he held him tight, strong and loving. Peter snuggled into him, bringing his rocket close and rubbing his nose against the cone of the rocket. Loki spoke to him, telling him he loved him more than anything, that he’d do anything for him, and that he always wanted what was best for him. Peter listened to the sound of Loki’s heart beating, and although it was fast, it was regular, and that, coupled with Loki’s loving words, soon soothed him.

-

After half an hour, Tony put an arm round Loki’s shoulders, holding him tight and resting a hand on Peter’s back. Ten minutes after that, Thor retrieved his shoulder bag, setting it on the coffee table. He stood up, went over, and kissed little Peter on the head. He rested a hand on Loki’s shoulder.

“Loki” he said softly. 

Loki opened his eyes and looked at Thor. He knew what he was saying, without the words being uttered. He took a deep breath and nodded, a single tear escaping and dripping down his cheek. He sat Peter up and kissed him hard on the cheek.

“I love you” he said, his voice cracking. “I love you so much. Me and daddy, we love you more than anything else in the world”

Peter blinked at him, and smiled, blissfully unaware. “I love you too! You’re my daddies!”

Loki pulled Peter close again. He shook Tony’s arm off him and stood up. Thor squeezed his shoulder.

“Do you mind if I give him a cuddle?”

Loki nodded and handed him over.

“Hi again, uncle Thor!” Peter smiled up at him. “Are we going to the park now?”

“We’re going to play a little game” Thor said, cuddling him close and kissing his cheek.

“Oh!” Peter’s face lit up. “Ok! I like games! Are we playing farm?”

“No, this is another game”

Loki took Peter back from Thor, hugging him close. He took a deep breath. He felt so sick. He was shaking and trying so hard not to cry. His eyes were watering and his throat was tight. He couldn’t do this. He could let this little boy be torn away and sent back to his teenage life and all the horrible memories that went with it.

“Loki” Thor said. “Why don’t you settle him?”

“I can’t”

“Loki”

“I can’t let him go. He’s so happy this way”

Tony stood up. “Darling, we’ve been through this. It’s time”

“We’re gonna play a game!” Little Peter said. “Game time, game time! You need to put me down!”

“You need to settle on the sofa, my son” Tony said. “Daddy’s going to put you down now. Isn’t that right, daddy?”

Loki took a very deep breath and carefully set Peter down on the end of the sofa, nestled in the cushions. Peter settled happily, positioning his rocket carefully beside him and waiting to find out what the game would be. Loki knelt down and kissed him on the nose. He couldn’t speak. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and Tony knelt down beside him. He stroked Peter’s cheek gently.

“I love you”

“I love you too, daddy!”

Tony kissed Peter on the cheek, and took Loki’s hand.

“I love you, my little darling” Loki said thickly.

Peter giggled. They’d both said it a lot today. “I love you too! I love you, I love you, I love you!” 

Loki gave Peter another little kiss on the nose, and then let Tony lead him back over to his seat to sit down. He held his hand tight. Peter looked up at Thor.

“I love you! Now is it time to play the game?”

“And I love you! Yes, now it’s time to play a little game” Thor said. “Ok?”

“Ok!” Peter giggled. “Let’s play a game! Game time!”

“How are you feeling? Happy?”

“I’m happy!” Peter giggled. “Happy, happy, happy!”

“I want you to close your eyes, and count to twenty in your head. Ok?”

Peter nodded. “I can do that!” he exclaimed, and covered his eyes with his hands. 

Thor carefully reached into his shoulder bag, pulling out the reversal gun. A sob escaped Loki as soon as he set eyes on it.

“Please don’t do this. I can’t do this-!”

Tony held Loki tight, trying to keep him quiet. Thor didn’t look at them. He felt a bit sick too, and the horrible, strained, desperate look on his brothers face was too much to bear. He was hurting so much already. But everyone knew what had to be done, whether Loki liked it or not.

Thor raised the reversal gun, pointing it at the oblivious toddler, who was counting quietly under his breath. He took a deep breath, taking one last look at the little boy, and he pulled the trigger. 

*