The day Loki fell was the day he became something he was not.
The day he met Anthony Edward Stark was the day he became what he had been once more.
Seven and a half months after they'd been together and Anthony had showed him what it was to love and be loved in return, he awoke from one of his many nightmares to the mortal stroking his fingers through his hair, gazing down at him with something so warm and so sad in his eyes that Loki was momentarily rendered speechless.
He didn't comment on it, instead opting to bury his face in the mortals shoulder and hug him closer, as if the mortal was his lifeline. Perhaps he was.
He closed his eyes once more, not quite noticing the trembling in his shoulders forced from the confusing swirl of memories that had twisted themselves into night terrors; it was the simplest name one could come up with for something that made one want nothing more than to let go of everything…but not quite everyone.
Anthony broke him from his thoughts, speaking words of wisdom that would forever be held in his heart.
"Remember, Lo," the mortal had said. "Each day is a gift, not a given right."
He had not understood then, why he was being told this.
He would, though.
He didn't understand why he'd found Anthony cutting hundreds of pictures in half and dropping them into a box he'd stowed between his legs, or why he'd kept all the ones Loki didn't know he'd taken of him in pristine condition, carefully stored with gentle fingers in a photo album, ensuring no bent corners or ripped sides.
He didn't understand why Anthony donated thousands upon thousands of dollars into charities around the world, or why he'd stored the rest into a bank account under the name of Loki Laufeyson.
He didn't understand why Anthony had called dozens of different people that day, laughing and smiling like it was a breath of fresh air and he was drowning.
He didn't understand why Anthony had told him story after story, some of which made him laugh, others made him cry, and all that made him love the mortal even more.
He didn't understand why Anthony stood in Justin Hammer's prison cell, shaking his hand, or why he stood at Vanko and Killian's graves with single roses in his hand and a smile on his face, or why he'd held Loki close and whispered "I forgive you" ever so softly in his ear before pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of his lips.
He didn't question it when Anthony finally, finally murmured "I love you" and Loki swore up and down to the gods above that this was the man who'd fallen in love with him and who he'd fallen in love with; that this was the man who had managed to fully mend his broken heart and claim it as his own with soft whispers of "Mine" and "Yours".
When Anthony took in a shaky breath and collapsed, the arc reactor flickering and dying in his chest, Loki had not been but was at the same time expecting it.
He'd screamed to the stars, to every realm and every being, his voice cracking and his hands trembling, tears falling from agonized eyes.
He'd screamed to the King of the God's and he'd screamed to the Queen of the Dead.
He'd held his lover's hand and begged him to be alright, but it seemed the Norn's were not listening.
Instead he'd gotten a smile from shaky lips and a breaking goodbye and a kiss pressed to the corner of his lips and a quiet "I love you" and dark eyes staring up at him holding more love than what could possibly be held in the entirety of the universe.
And then he'd understood.