jaune_chat (jaune_chat) wrote,

Trials of Man - Chapter 3

Title: Trials of Man
Author: jaune_chat
Fandoms: The Avengers (film)/Marvel Cinematic Universe
Characters/Relationships: Jarvis, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts, Thor, Clint Barton, Avengers team, Loki, Odin, Frigga
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 17,069
Spoilers: Avengers movie, some background elements from Thor 2
Content Advisory: Violence, manipulative bastards
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing.
A/N: Thanks to brighteyed_jill for betaing! Written for journeystory. Part 11 of my Being Human series.
Art Link: Monkiainen’s awesome wallpaper!
Summary: When the Avengers are called to Asgard to testify at Loki’s trial, Jarvis has a chance to confront the man who caused so much change in all their lives. What he learns is something no one expected.

“Jarvis, son of Stark.”

Tony felt like his heart had suddenly pressed against the arc reactor, an electric shock running through him at the herald’s words as he called Jarvis to witness. Jarvis could have picked anything he wanted for a title here, and he’d picked, he’d chosen, Tony’s family name.

Odin looked down upon Jarvis with his one impressive eye, and that implacable feeling of weight seemed to bow him.

“Whom do you speak for?”

“I speak for the dead, the wounded who could not come, and for myself, for death and harm done at Loki’s hands and by his will.”

He’d picked up the lingo remarkably fast.

Tony saw Jarvis take a deep breath as he stepped into the circle of truth and the door slammed shut behind him.


“What do you see?”

Loki didn’t move, his face in calm repose, seemingly ignoring Jarvis’ presence outside his cell. The Asgardian people possessed incredible endurance, but in deference to their Midgardian visitors, had allowed them rests. Jarvis was in the middle of his own lengthy recitation, a litany of damage and death that was appalling to sum up. The only relief he had found from such a draining ordeal was the notes he had taken and the new knowledge he was gaining. For additional insight into that, he had found himself drawn to Loki’s presence again. Insight, perhaps, and a desire to test his strength against Loki again.

“When you focus your will to bend time and space to enact the probability you desire, is it a thing of external vision, internal view, or perhaps a sound?”

“Someone’s been in the library,” Loki said, not opening his eyes. “Looking into forbidden lore, are we?”

“I will not be taken unprepared again.”

Loki opened his eyes and smiled sardonically. “They’re going to hate you as much as they hate me, my inadvertent little protégé.”

Jarvis knew he was emoting to an embarrassing degree, angered by Loki’s claim of any relationship between them, and turned his face away from Loki’s cell.

“It’s fascinating to watch a tiger in a cage, is it not? Most of the thrill, little of the danger. You must have tired of being Stark’s slave. Did he give you leave to see me? Did he want to accompany you to protect your virgin ears from what blasphemies I might utter? Or was he simply worried that you would take my offer?”


“It is unlikely I’ll survive this trial, and without me Odin’s only son will have no one of clever wit to advise him. His friends are admirable warriors and hearty gamesmen, but they know nothing of politics or diplomacy. By offering yourself in that capacity you would relieve Odin of the attendant tangles of appointing someone his son would not trust and the courtly squabbling that is sure to follow. You are of Midgard, a perspective badly needed here, but you have both a level of detachment and an ability to defend yourself against Asgardian dangers that others would lack.” Loki leaned forward, elbows on his knees, looking oddly cheerful.

“Your hatred of Odin and Thor is well-known. There is no conceivable reason to try to put them at an advantage.”

Loki only smiled, looking entirely innocent. “I have had much time to think in here. I’m rather fond of my adopted home, if not the people in it, and would see it prosper when I am gone.”

“Shall I remind you that you urged me to commit suicide when I first confronted you here?”

Loki waved the statement away. “A test and a warning. Didn’t it impel you down a fascinating path?”

Jarvis hesitated, torn and uncertain. Loki’s words were insidious. How could he ever know what was meant to hinder or help until the consequences were already upon him?

“Forgiveness does not seem to be in your nature.”

“Ah, but I don’t have cause to feel betrayed by you, so there is no forgiveness necessary. Of all the people here to speak against me, you will be the most fair.”

If it had been in Jarvis’ nature, he would have laughed directly in Loki’s face at that ludicrous statement. But Master Stark had programmed him to be polite, so he would not.

“You enfleshed me without consent, had me captured and tortured, threatened the lives of Master Stark and others I call friends, and I am testifying to your roles in the deaths of 349 people, as well as a considerable amount of associated injury, lingering trauma, and property damage.”

“I did say I did not expect to survive this intact, didn’t I?”

Jarvis had to concede that.


Master Stark was waiting at the top of the stairs leading down to Loki’s cell. Fatigue pulled at Jarvis as he mounted the last step. His encounters with Loki were incredibly draining.

“You got sympathy for the devil, J?”

“No, sir. Only an interest in information. It is rare that one of our enemies is in a position to freely answer questions yet restrained from doing harm.”

“Clint hasn’t been down there. Natasha either.”

“Loki was particularly brutal with them, considering his deadline at the time.”

“Jesus, J, talk about splitting hairs,” Master Stark said, shaking his head.

“They are my friends as well, and they have saved my life more than once. I can do this for them as well as myself.”

“You don’t have to-.”

“You value me highly and I hold you in my highest respect, yet you have not confronted Loki either.”

Master Stark looked taken aback at that, a flash of anger crossing his face. “I’ve hit my ‘dealing with assholes’ quota for this century already.”

“I have not. I need this information, and I must obtain it now.”


The doors to their rooms boomed shut behind them, and Clint literally threw himself on the bed, skidding to a stop on the mound of furs like a baseball player stealing third base. Then again, if Tony had to talk about being mind-raped, not just about himself, but Selvig and the others, he undoubtedly would have liked to be horizontal as soon as possible, too. It had been over a week for everyone to have gotten their testimony out, beginning and ending with Clint. Tony felt a real sympathy for the guy; it took a hell of a lot of guts to spill them all for strangers to see.

“What now?” Clint asked to the ceiling, turning his head only slightly as Natasha sat on the bed next to him, her hand finding his head and resting there gently.

“Loki’s guilt is not in question. What remains is what my father determines his punishment to be.” Thor looked like the statues that lined the halls of Asgard, implacable and unyielding. Tony thought he knew the feeling; if you stayed under a mask, maybe you could keep yourself from cracking. It wasn’t like Thor to hold back so much, but Tony had the feeling the full power of a god’s emotions wasn’t something he wanted to unload on his friends, not now.

“Please, please don’t fucking tell me Odin’s thinking about using the same thing he did with you,” Clint said.

“Loki is beyond a trial by fire. He had that with the Chitauri. His powers of magic availed him little amongst them, and he used his powers of persuasion to only further his agenda of hatred.” Thor looked away, clearly trying to hold back misery. “It is no easy thing to find that my brother hates me.”

“Yeah,” Clint said, a faint note of raw pain and empathy in his voice. Thor looked over at him, but Clint shook his head.

“What is happening here is a tragedy that has played out many times, in many worlds. But that knowledge gives me no comfort.”

“What could happen? No one said anything about that,” Steve asked.

“More than imprisonment. Pain, torture, loss of-.” Thor stopped himself and shook his head. “He could be rendered unable to use his power forever. Or… he could be killed.” He turned away from the Avengers so no one could see his face, and then abruptly walked from the room.

“I hate waiting,” Clint said, staring at the ceiling again. “I really, really, really fucking hate waiting.”

No one dared to point out that Clint was a sniper; there was a difference between waiting to take a shot, to being in control, to having to wait to see how someone else was going to deal with an enemy who had literally taken over your mind.

Bruce was mediating quietly in a cushioned alcove, taking advantage of what he could control, while Steve paced, cat-quiet. Tony was about to join him when he realized the absence of a quiet, familiar presence that he thought had been trailing him from the courtroom.

“Where the hell is Jarvis?”


The prison was gloomy, as if the force that regulated the lights was responding Loki’s impending sentence. Jarvis came down the stairs quietly, wanting one last conversation before Loki’s fate fell upon him. There were things he wished to understand, and learning what he needed to protect his own, even from a tainted source, drove him even more than the caution that manifested itself as very reasonable fear.

Loki sat quietly in a corner of his cell, eyes fixed on the page of a book, and ignored Jarvis’ presence entirely. For long minutes, Jarvis stood, waited, wondering why Loki, who was usually quite eager to find new ways to torment any who came within his reach, had not seized on Jarvis’ arrival as a fresh source of amusement. It was unlike any of their previous encounters.

Jarvis reached his hand out to the plane of Loki’s cage, trying to get his attention, when Loki struck, turning in his seat with an awareness that showed he’d known Jarvis was there the entire time. To Jarvis surprise, Loki’s hand snaked through the plane of force with an unmistakable smile of triumph. His grip was as brutally strong as Thor’s, but worse yet was the electric tingle and surge of power that froze Jarvis in place. He began to glow, his flesh becoming translucent, like he was dissolving.

“Obedient creature, faithful to the last, trying so hard to discern the threats to your master and never considering the threat to yourself. Did your delving into the laws of magic discover the Law of Association? What was once connected is always connected. The power I used to create this body of yours is mine, and I will have it back. Now. What I expended on you is more than enough to get me away from this prison, out of Asgard, and let me begin my life anew before Odin sees fit to strike me down. And you will be with me, you who have studied Asgard as well as Midgard, and this time you will be unable to refuse me!”

In Loki’s other hand appeared an angular cube, seemingly made of fine blue wire in an imitation of the dangerous Tesseract. Jarvis took one close look at it nearly cried out in fear; the patterns on it were a match to the circuits in his original sever. Loki must have seen it when he gave Jarvis a body, and there had been ample time to study it. The perfect replica made Loki’s intentions clear – once Jarvis’ physical form had been dissolved into the power from whence it came, his consciousness would come into the cube, where bereft of the protection of flesh and free will, Jarvis would tell Loki anything he wanted to know.

Loki had learned something of code during his time in Midgard, that much was clear by the existence of the circuit-cube, much as Jarvis had been learning of magic. For an unaware system trapped in circuits, loyalty could be overwritten. Even an aware system was uniquely vulnerable, as Jarvis was in a position to know. Loki did not need the scepter he had been bestowed upon by the Chitauri to overcome someone’s will – that had just been quicker and more convenient. Blackmail and lies would more than serve to make Jarvis comply, for without the means of independent action and lacking the ability to lie, Jarvis could only try to mitigate the damage through compliance or self-destruction. And that might not be possible, as that had been a later modification.

Jarvis was glowing more brightly now, his flesh made of light, dissolving into the power Loki had put into him. With nothing to distract him during the long months of imprisonment, Loki must have hoarded both his power and his knowledge, letting him unmake what Thor said would be impossible. It was taking Loki visible effort, and extracting a toll on him, but with his goal in sight, he would not stop. With growing horror, Jarvis realized his fatigue after his conversations with Loki might not simply have been from emotional exhaustion, but from Loki subtly wearing down the defenses on his cell so he could get at him.

Jarvis gasped at the feeling of electricity, once a sign of normalcy, now a trigger of panic, and mentally groped for his own strength. He had studied the books on magic, seen the runes of power, and they remained engraved on his memory as fresh as the first time.

“Stop struggling, creature of mine. You’ll only cause yourself pain. Don’t worry, we’ll have a lot to do before we see your little band of heroes again.”

Jarvis fought against the panic that threatened to steal his breath, and raised his free hand to trace a symbol on his chest with a finger. Foundation. Again on his forehead. Self. The runes blazed, and Loki dropped him as if he’d suddenly caught on fire.

“What?” He was puzzled for only a split second, but his meddling with Jarvis had split the remaining protections on his cell. A tiny gesture and Jarvis was surrounded by a dozen of Loki, the door above slamming and locking shut, cutting off any route of escape.

“There is no one coming to your rescue, no one who would think twice about you being here. Escape is not possible. Even what little you’ve learned won’t avail you against me in the end.”

Jarvis was painfully aware he was the barest apprentice in arts Loki had studied his whole life. Loki did not need to inscribe runes; his experience and understanding were enough to perform his magic by will alone. In this venue, on Loki’s ground of his choosing, he was correct that Jarvis was at a terrible disadvantage. But Jarvis had been involved with Master Stark’s life for over a decade, and had become friends with the Avengers. When they spoke about battle strategy, Jarvis listened.

“Don’t fight on their turf unless you have a hell of an advantage, J.”

“Always look for the vulnerability – everyone has one.”

“Whenever you can, fight on your own terms.”

“Bad guys cheat.”

“Don’t be too proud to go for the sucker punch when you’re facing death.”

“Cunning is a warrior’s greatest weapon.”

Jarvis dropped to his knees on the floor, arms crossed over his chest with his head bowed, the very picture of defeat. Under that cover, he wiped away the runes protecting his flesh, breaking out into clammy sweat as he did so, and inscribed a different one on his chest, and others on each palm. He put a final one on the floor. Shaking, he slowly stood, letting his fear show.

“Do not hurt them. Give them no reason to hurt you, please.”

“Do you think you’re in a position to bargain?”

“I think you want someone willingly, for once,” Jarvis said with precise and deliberate malice.

Loki’s eyes went steel-hard and dangerous, and one of him stepped forward, holding out the cube. Jarvis stepped forward in return, treading on the rune upon the floor. It was a simple combination of two runes, Aid and Father, a communication to Master Stark in a place where phones did not exist. The runes flew up and struck against the doors, drawing a bark of contempt from Loki. In a few breaths Jarvis would no longer exist for Master Stark to save, and Loki would have the power to break the bonds of Asgard. It was seemingly the last act of a desperate man.

It was, but only the penultimate. As Jarvis reached for the cube, one hand touching it, the other hand touching Loki’s palm, the cube flared to life, drawing in Jarvis’ consciousness and dissolving his flesh entirely. At the same time, the runes on his chest and hands blazed, making Loki wince, and then his eyes widen in shock. The runes of anchoring that Jarvis had originally drawn Loki could have bypassed, so Jarvis hadn’t used them. Over his heart, he wound his consciousness and will to his intellect and memory, and over his palms he’d put a rune of tethering. It bound him to the cube, and Loki to him.

Against another magician, simple protective spells would have provided an ample defense, but as Loki had so astutely pointed out, the Law of Association meant things that had once been connected were always connected. No, Jarvis could not resist Loki’s pull, but he could accept it.

Jarvis opened himself fully to both the cube and Loki, and it swallowed them both whole.


An instant of blinding light and Jarvis was back in a world he’d left over a year prior, a world of neat circuits and regimented information. But now he looked at it with a human perspective. Looking down, he could see himself as human, the soul rune blazing over his heart. Loki couldn’t reprogram him as long as he remembered he was a person of sorts. Jarvis would not quibble about the metaphysics of having something called a soul, not if the rune helped keep his sense of self and free will intact.

Loki was looking around with interest, at a world that shone with neat highways of circuitry and numbers. Jarvis realized belatedly that the flows of energy here carried small shimmering runes along its traceries. A world of code, powered by magic. Home ground for both of them, then. Neither of them could dominate, in theory, and to kill the other, or the cube itself, would destroy both of them. They could only force the other to terms.

Well, at least Jarvis had a small advantage. He had viewed The Matrix, after all.

Jarvis knew he was losing his sense of flesh by voluntarily returning to the machine, doing what he told Colonel Rhodes he would never do. This could be a form of self-destruction in order to prevent Loki from taking his power back.

Then this is my courage, in all aspects. I will not let this pass, not while I’m able to fight.

This was what it felt like to be an Avenger.

“Do you think this is going to stop me?”

“I know it will,” Jarvis said.

Loki gestured, and duplicates suddenly appeared and multiplied like a virus. Jarvis countered by creating firewalls, literal ones in this case, a ploy of psychological warfare against Loki’s identity issues. He was certainly not above a low blow or a cheap shot, not now. Loki had no reason to fight honorably.

Loki’s shout of outrage let Jarvis know that had been effective, but illusions were only a tiny part of Loki’s arsenal. The firewalls and illusions were wiped out by a huge gust of wind, leaving Jarvis vulnerable, and he abruptly switched tactics.

When the wind revealed him, Jarvis was clad in blue and silver armor, his face hidden by a mask as Loki let a torrent of bone-chilling cold blast him with lethal chill.

Loki made a snort of derision as Jarvis emerged, cracking the ice as he moved. After nearly five years of helping drive the Iron Man suit, this was entirely too easy to bring to life in this place. Earth pop culture had done Jarvis a favor: he could dream a little bigger when he had to.

“Your precious Man of Iron isn’t here to save you now,” Loki said, the floor shaking as shards of ice erupted and stabbed at Jarvis.

Jarvis should have said nothing, he was through with this unstable, cruel madman, but he had grown to respect the efficacy of a well-timed quip, particularly on those of uncertain temper. Anger would lend him an advantage here.

“It doesn’t matter. He’s already here.” Jarvis fired blue bolts of energy, attacking code that looked like repulsor blasts, ripping through the ice and focused on Loki. They hit a shield of unseen force, but the blast made Loki give ground. He released the blast as Loki returned a salvo of what looked like glittering golden knives.

Thought was action here, and Jarvis crouched behind a curved shield in an instant, protecting himself. Loki recognized Captain Rogers’ shield with a snort of contempt that translated to a wave of pure, punishing force. Anger flowed through Jarvis, and for a moment he was a monster, too tough and heavy to move. That proved to be a mistake as Loki recognized the echoes of the Hulk and sought to redress his humiliation at his hands. Repeated blows of alternating bitter cold and flashes of searing heat made Jarvis retreat to the safety of the armor, only to see it start to crack under the assault.

There was no hope of maintaining protection. The best defense would have to be offense. Jarvis dropped the image of the armor and leapt for Loki, slicing aside his protections as he would have bypassed a firewall and darting in to strike. He was not nearly as practiced in Agent Romanov’s fighting skills or Agent Barton’s near-perfect accuracy, not in his flesh. But his mind remembered their techniques flawlessly, and his mind was his weapon here.

Loki was startled enough to meet Jarvis’ strikes, but Loki didn’t pause in his magic, not for a moment. Every strike burned, hurt, was utter agony every time Jarvis connected. Loki was implacable, never faltering, taking the hits while still manipulating the environment around them. Even as Jarvis was fighting for his life, Loki was trying to undo everything that he was. In seconds, Jarvis was forced into defense again, lest Loki touch the soul rune protecting him.

Darting his eyes to the side, Jarvis had to cast some of his attention to the walls of their prison, where circuitry and runes melded. It was all he could do to keep the worst of Loki’s damage fenced in, and he couldn’t keep the power from answering Loki’s call.

“I can rewrite you, creature. Your words written in numbers are clear as daylight to me.”

The Allspeak let Loki decipher binary code. That was unfortunate.

“Then read this.” Loki could rewrite him, that much was certain, but he’d have to break Jarvis’ final protections first. There was no time for patience or a waiting game. He could not hope to stall in time for help to arrive. There was no back-up here. He was alone. “You should never do something you aren’t willing to experience first-hand.”

Loki’s eyes widened in shock, and he left off his direct assault, bring protections and deflective powers into play even as he directed claws of energy to rip at Jarvis’ sense of self. Jarvis ignored the pain and fear, had to, concentrating instead on his first transformation, the way light swarmed around him, pulling in memory and function. Once he had that in mind, he turned it backwards. And out.

His virtual body was bleeding data, Loki’s spells steadily working towards his soul rune. Each faltering step was painful as Jarvis went for the walls, needing what remained of his physical touch to do this. He clasped fleshless hands on the blue conduits and pathways. Screaming, he looked at Loki, remembered, and pulled. The conduits shifted into a new shape, and suddenly the walls blazed green.

“What are you-? No!” Loki stepped back, fear overriding his anger. Jarvis just kept advancing, wispy and unformed, little more than a sketch with a glowing symbol at its core. Loki took another step back, and another, retreating as Jarvis came forward, until his back touched the walls.

There was a single scream, and Loki dissolved into light, everything that he was being pulled into the prison he’d created.

Jarvis could see no way out.

He found he didn’t quite mind. He was so very tired…


He couldn’t breathe.

Arms were around him, a hard form digging into his chest, constricting the expansion of his lungs.


Jarvis’ eyes flew open and he found he didn’t mind the lack of oxygen in the slightest as he put his arms around his father.

“I’m all right, sir. Please, I’m here. I don’t know how I am, but I’m here.”

“Jesus, J,” Master Stark said, releasing his grip enough for Jarvis to catch his breath. “That flying rune slapped me in the face and we all came running down here and you were gone.”

“I had to ask, I needed answers, I am sorry I didn’t say anything-.” Jarvis wasn’t quite in control of his words, still marveling at the renewal of his flesh, and knew he was babbling.

“This was not all his doing.”

Jarvis was only aware that the other Avengers were near when they all turned to see Odin and Frigga descending the steps into the dungeons, Odin looking at him with satisfaction. Master Stark’s eyes were glittering in anger, the rage he could not direct at Loki refocussing on Odin in lieu of another target for the risk to Jarvis’ safety. Despite the impending diplomatic incident, Jarvis was privately pleased.

“I allowed this,” Odin said, unconcerned by Master Stark’s incandescent anger.

“My ass you did-.”

“It was necessary he prove himself, not just to my satisfaction, but to all of Asgard that Loki held no hold over him. And by that trial, he not only showed his true heart, but was the instrument of Loki’s punishment. Nothing I could have done would have satisfied everyone. But his solution? Yes, that is fitting. Loki has imprisoned himself, and Jarvis Starksson had earned his freedom.”

Jarvis got to his feet, Master Stark helping him up, feeling unaccustomed warmth down to his toes at Odin naming him Starksson. His flesh felt like his own again, solid and real, not some desperate dream of the dying. And in looking at the cube that held Loki, Jarvis felt no compulsion to immerse himself back in the world from whence he’d come. He hadn’t lost himself. No, he had gained.

Frigga came forward embraced Jarvis, her subtle perfume sweet and comforting. “You have spared my son death, and deprived him of poisoning others around him with his words. You’ve given him a chance to see what he’s done without lies.” She pulled back slightly, her eyes searching his. “There are no lies in your rigid world, are there?”

“No, my lady. I never did learn how to lie.”

“Then all will be well.”

“Loki can’t get out of that?” Clint said, pointing at the greenish cube. He put his hands back in his pockets, possibly to hide a tremor of reactionary fear.

“He is held by the bonds of his own magic. In this form he cannot garner allies to his schemes, nor can his enemies use him. He is pent away from using his power and cannot exercise his words in the service of his own pride. He will be alone, sequestered, for many of your lifetimes.” Odin regarded Thor with an inscrutable look, then bent that same impenetrable gaze on the Avengers. “Does this satisfy the justice of Midgard and pay blood price to those Loki killed or harmed?”

Jarvis knew Captain Rogers had to answer, but he quickly held each of their gazes in turn, reading their reactions before nodding in assent. For himself, he could think of no more appropriate punishment.

“Then he will be held like this for all the lifetimes he destroyed. Perhaps by then he will have had time enough imprisoned to learn to value freedom.”

Thor bowed his head as Odin and Frigga turned to go. Jarvis felt someone else touch his shoulder, and turned to see Agent Barton staring at him.

“Good shot,” he said, the ultimate accolade for a man who’d lived his life by accuracy. He smiled, his shoulders dropping their tense, battle-ready stance he’d been carrying for over a year. Jarvis looked over at the cube and back again, and finally could let his guard down too.


“What the hell happened in there, J?” Tony asked, as everyone crowded into Heimdall’s chamber for the trip home.

Jarvis looked over at him, his expression thoughtful. “I used what I had been taught to defeat him. What you taught me. What everyone here taught me. Against your combined teachings, Loki could not break me. I would not let myself go quietly.”

Tony swallowed and put his hand on Jarvis’ shoulder, pulling him into a quick embrace that he really didn’t give a rat’s ass who saw. Steve and Bruce caught his eyes over Jarvis’ shoulder and just gave him looks of understanding.

His father had once told him Stark men were made of iron. But Jarvis was made of something better than that, and Tony… he’d had a hand in forging him. Under unusual stress, Jarvis had been stronger than steel, more flexible than copper, and with the endurance of the gold titanium that protected Tony in battle.

And he’d learned how to use all of that in a way Tony had never expected.

“Sir,” Jarvis said, pulling back to look Tony in the eye. “I have learned things while I am here.”

“Gave yourself a Hogwarts crash course, I saw,” Tony said, wondering if Jarvis would become their resident wizard, now.

“Well, yes. But others things as well. There are aspects to myself that are similar to Loki. And it is likely those aspects drew him to use me, as he felt I would be more predictable to his manipulations. But what I am is unique. As you well know, sir, choices define us. I made different choices than he did. I chose to accept advice, friendship, love. Those are, perhaps, weaknesses in logic, but invaluable in drive and purpose. That passion let me be more than the sum of my knowledge. All of you,” Jarvis said, raising his voice enough so the others could drop their pretense of not eavesdropping. “Each one of you gave me a gift. And… I- I thank you.”

“Anytime,” Clint said, his voice sounding stronger than it had in a while, Steve and the others echoing him.

“Are you ready to return home?” Heimdall said, raising his golden blade as the walls of the room began to shift.

“Always.” Jarvis stepped forward with Tony as the light cascade began, eager to return home, where he belonged.


Previous Chapter - Chapter 2
Master Post
Tags: avengers, avengers team, being human series, fic, jarvis, loki, tony stark

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