Loki hated thunderstorms, ever since he was a kid. He wasn't really sure why. Maybe at the beginning it had had something to do with how loud sounds always seemed to hurt his ears, and his parents and older brother would just mock him for being scared. Lightning was too bright, and thunder was too loud. They would make him cringe no matter how hard he stopped- but not because he was frightened. Because it hurt. Somehow, the distinction never seemed to matter.

Later, of course, his hatred of thunder and thunderstorms became something else entirely. It seemed as though every single thing ever to go wrong in his life had happened on the night of a storm. It had been storming the day that Odin caught Loki with that other boy behind his school, and the rain had continued through the following argument that followed- an argument that ended with Loki being sent off to "church camp".

There had been no rain, but still lightning streaking across the sky the day that Odin had physically thrown Thor across the room for something Loki had done. It was the one and only time Odin had struck his eldest son, and Thor had never stopped hating Loki for that.

There had been a hurricane warning flashing on the screen the night that Frigga hadn't come home on time. Loki had been fifteen at the time, and it was the only thing that had kept him from going out and stealing Odin's car and going after her to make certain nothing was wrong. She wouldn't have wanted him to get hurt, and, besides, she was probably just stuck in the traffic. It was, to this day, his biggest regret.

Dying in the storm trying to find her would have hurt a lot less than the phone call that came a little after midnight informing the family that Frigga had been caught in the storm and run off a bridge by a hydroplaning semi-truck. It had been raining when the call came too.

And it was raining now. Lightning flashed in the background, and thunder boomed overhead as Loki trudged down the side of the road. Rain was soaking through his thin cotton shirt, and he shivered in the downpour.

All this time, he'd known there had to be a reason that Odin had loved Thor best. He'd been such a fool for not seeing it earlier; he didn't look anything like them, with their golden hair and stately ways. He was the black sheep, in more ways than one, and now it was all clear. He was glad to be rid of Odin as a father- he had never been family to Loki anyway. But Frigga? She was the only one who had ever loved him. And now they weren't even tied by blood.

It didn't matter now though. She was gone, and he was leaving. Loki had no idea where he was going, just wandering down the darkened streets of New York City in the unending rain, but he was going away from home, and he wasn't ever going back.

A car drove past him on the street abruptly, splashing through a puddle and getting mud all over Loki's already drenched form. The car came to a stop, and Loki glared viciously at the fancy vehicle. It looked like the sort of thing that Odin would have bought for Thor, and that just made him hate it more.

And then, surprisingly, the driver got out of the car, his nice suit immediately getting plastered to his skin, and yelled over the storm to Loki, "I'm really sorry about that! I didn't see you! Where're you headed? I'll give you a ride!"

Loki stared at the shorter man somewhat aghast. He didn't look to be much older than Loki, with his hair flat on his head courtesy of the rain and a neatly trimmed goatee. "I…. Thank you for the offer," he eventually managed, "but I don't really have a destination in mind."

The stranger blinked in surprise at that before a weird look of understanding flashed in his eyes. "So I'll just bring you back to my place. At least get you somewhere dry; you look like you're about to die of hypothermia."

Loki just stared at him some more.

"I'm not a serial killer, I promise," the stranger joked with a friendly smile.

And Loki found himself moving to the passenger side of the car, pulling open the door. "I'm going to get your car all wet."

The shorter man laughed. "So am I. Don't worry about it." He slid inside and as Loki joined him, both of them closing their doors and shutting out the storm, the stranger tossed him a wink, "Besides, it's my boss'."

Loki laughed quietly. "I hope I don't get you in too much trouble then."

The stranger shrugged. "Nah. I do just fine with that on my own." He held out his hand over the car, "I'm Tony, by the way."

Loki accepted the gesture. "Loki. Thank you for the ride."

"You're welcome, Lokes."

Tony loved thunderstorms, ever since he was a child. They seemed to bring him good luck whenever they arrived in his life. When he was a child, he used to stand at the window watching in awe as lightning streaked across the smile, laughing giddily every time a crash sounded loudly above his head. The sound of the rain would quiet the neverending voices in his head for a little while, and let there just be peace and quiet.

It had been storming the first time that Tony had gotten to slip into his father's workshop while he was fallen into a drunken sleep. That had been the start of everything good to happen in Tony's life. There had been a hurricane warning the day that Jarvis first came online, though that hadn't stopped Tony from running outside whooping in joy when the British voice first sounded through the speakers.

Rain had always meant something good for Tony, and today seemed to be no different as he stole Obi's car for a joyride. He'd bring it back in one piece, but he'd been wanting to upgrade the Mercedes for a while, and as his "uncle" was out of state, it was the perfect opportunity to see how it handled and how it could be improved. Tony was out of projects and he was bored. Besides, it was raining. He always tried to get out of the house when it was raining.

He really hadn't seen the figure on the side of the road until it had been too late, the water splashing up and drenching the poor guy even further. Tony immediately slammed on the breaks and offered the very tall fellow a ride.

It seemed like the rain hadn't been quite so kind to him; he knew the look of someone with nowhere to go.

But the rain had never led Tony wrong before, and it hadn't now, as he sat on his couch in his penthouse apartment, running his hand through the beautiful black hair of the boy currently sleeping with his head on Tony's lap.

Tony watched Loki sleep with a gentle smile, and then he lifted his head up to look at the ceiling, whispering a silent thank you to the rain.