AN: I felt like writing something angsty because some of my friends made me read their stories and it seemed like a good idea XD Also I figured I would post something as an apology for seeming dead and not updating Seasons of Love. Although this isn't much of an apology considering it's angst. Sorry~
**IMPORTANT** I now have a blog on tumblr for this fanficiton account. go and follow me and you may be able to catch some stories I won't post on here! You won't regret it! Iron-Frosted-Ficiton .tumblr. com (that's the url.)
A laugh was all that could be discerned from the retreating figure. His shoulders slumped ever so slightly for his normally erect back; his raven hair gently cascading back with the breeze and his strong steps. Strong was how he wanted to be remembered, walking away from there with dignity. He did not want to be seen as the rest of them were. He left them with his laugh, something that those who did not know him would have found to be a mocking gesture. His laugh though, was not empty. It carried memories and hid the tears; tears that fell as soon as his back was to the crowd clad in black.
How he wished he could openly weep, but it was best that he make his retreat now. They would find it odd if he were to show such sorrow, such weakness. They knew all about his ego. So he walked. He walked past the rows of stone and deep into the trees around the yard of death. He did not stop as the tears became thick and blurred his vision, his pace only quickened as he tried to run from the emotions that plagued him. Stumbling across an over grown root was the only coercion to stop him. He put his forearm across the tree and pressed his forehead to his arm, squeezing his eyes shut.
A strained, childishly long sob bent through the leaves in the trees. Loki allowed himself this one luxury and didn't quiet himself as more sobs overtook his thin frame. His body shook with the flood of memories. They weren't all good, but it no longer mattered to him, because that is all that was left, memories. For a moment his sobs slowed as Loki tried to regain his breath.
"Anthony," the single word rolled off of his lips in a sorrowful whisper.
A rustling in the leaves seemed to produce the man from thin air. He approached Loki and pulled the man into his arms. Despite being taller, Loki fit into Tony's arms with his face pressed into the shorter man's chest. He stroked the man's hair and pulled him down to his knees as the shaking once again attacked his body. He wordlessly allowed Loki to cry into his chest, Loki knew he would tell no one. Having Tony there calmed him and soon his sobs quieted and he lightly hiccupped. Tony chuckled softly which earned him a glare. He merely wiped away the tears from Loki's face with a sad smile.
Odin was dead. While Loki hated the man nearly all of his life with every fiber of himself he had shaped him to who he was. He made him always want to be better and strive for greatness. He knew now that he was just as great as Thor, but he could never have told Odin that. Despite not being his son he was a greater father than his real one would have ever been. Loki didn't want to admit it but Tony could see it in his eyes everyday they were together. Now, now he could admit it; very clearly with the streams of tears that fell with such sorrow. Tony knew, he knew very well, how it felt to not be able to say 'goodbye'.