This was a story prompt off of Tumblr. If there's interest I'll continue to pursue it.
"He's unconscious."
"Not dead? After all that?"
"Not yet. But he will be." A wicked grin spread over the bearded face. "He will be."
ooooooooooo
Chains were unbound. A bloody, beaten, limp body roughly and unceremoniously dumped to the floor. Pity only went so far; this was a release from death, not a release from imprisonment. Death was too good for the man in front of him. Banishment. Thrown to the winds, to spin randomly within the nine, without memory or magic. An endless torture of uncertainty and helplessness. His lips curled in a poor imitation of the smirk usually worn by the prisoner.
A bright light, an inaudible thrumming, and the body vanished. He wiped his hands on his shirt, noticing the bloody streaks left behind. The last evidence that he had ever been here. And soon even that would be gone.
oooooooooo
He knew he'd been released. Felt the change as he was cast out to fall where he would. It took all of the effort he could muster to channel his energy and will himself to land. A bare hint, a whisper of a memory, called him to ... To where, he wasn't sure, but it felt right. The world flashed green and he lapsed back into insensibility.
oooooooooooo
Tony checked his bearings. Beneath him spread a wooded expanse of Nowhere, New York. "Jarvis, you sure you sent me to the right coordinates?"
The voice that replied had a smooth British accent. "Yes sir, the energy spike came from your exact spot."
Tony landed with a metallic thump. He peered around, noting broken branches and a large divot in the earth. "Maybe you're right." He swore he heard sarcasm when Jarvis answered.
"Of course."
He crouched, the mask sliding away from his face as he reached out in curiosity. There was blood in the indent. Not a lot, but enough to cause concern. "An animal?"
"The spike felt more like the readings from Mr. Odinson's arrival. Perhaps he has returned."
"If he did, he's a long way off the mark and hurt..." He stood and carefully edged around to the far side. A few feet away something was partially obscured in the shadows of a large tree. He paused in shock. Pale flesh stretched taut over angular facial features, half hidden by matted black tangles. Bloody rivulets traced the bruised, nearly naked form. With a hissed inhale, Tony recognized the seemingly dead man.
"Loki!" Confused and suddenly wary Tony and eased towards the fallen foe. There was no hint of life, no breath shifted the battered chest. Just in case he raised a gloved hand, ready to blast any attempts of attack. "Jarvis? Is this an illusion? He's supposed to be dead."
"I'm detecting distinct heat signature - though it is well below human normal - and other data that makes this unlikely to be a duplicate. He's alive, but barely. I'm noting numerous contusions, head wound,"
"I can see that. He's got more lives than a cat! How'd he get here?"
"I would suggest waking him and asking. Should I alert S.H.I.E.L.D?"
"No!" It was vehement. He didn't know quite why, he just knew he didn't want Loki in the hands of Fury. Not just yet. The bastard had thrown him out a window - he wondered if he should see how apologetic Loki could be. It was far too easy to lift the unconscious man. Loki was so thin, emaciated. Stark almost - almost - felt sorry for him. Whatever had been done to him had obviously gone far beyond imprisonment and into the realm of torture.
He didn't want Thor to know. Not just yet. The man was still grieving over the seeming death of his brother. Tony didn't know how to contact him anyway. Besides, what if Loki succumbed to his wounds? He'd be making Thor lose his brother all over again. It was a weak argument, but Tony only needed minimal self assurance when it came to telling himself he was right to do whatever he wanted to do in the first place.
"Incoming Jarvis. Pull up some basic medical information and see what we've got on hand. I don't want to get anyone else in on this. Not yet."
"Of course."
Tony shifted his burden and fired up the suit. Face mask back in place he flew toward the tower.
oooooooooooooo
Using the suit to enhance his strength he manhandled Loki into the penthouse. It took some doing but Loki was finally taken to a monitored "guest bedroom" and his wounds looked over. Oddly enough there were no open cuts beneath the blood. Tony was pretty sure there had been at least some fresh wounds based on the evidence, but everything he could see looked several days healed.
Using damp towels he cleaned the rest of the grime as best he could and slid a pair of sweatpants up Loki's legs. They were too short, but it was better than leaving him almost naked. He stared at the black snarls of Loki's hair and grimaced. Not much for it but to cut it off. He almost smiled at the thought. It would serve the trickster right. He went to grab a clipper, hoping Loki wouldn't wake up just quite yet.
When he got back the other man hadn't moved. In minutes the long locks were shorn away. Somehow, without the hair and in combination with the skinny and still bruised body, Loki looked almost pathetic. Tony sighed. He didn't want to pity Loki. Really he wanted to hate him. But it was hard to hold on to the anger in the face of this level of abuse.
Finally, with a sigh, he decided he'd done what was possible. Loki's injuries seemed to be healing quickly. It was the fact that Loki remained comatose that was worrisome... "Jarvis, alert me when he wakes up. I need a drink." Tony switched off the light and debated locking the door. He finally did, figuring that Loki would probably be pissed when he woke, and a locked door would provide, oh, say five milliseconds of lead time before all hell broke loose.