Tony knew something was up when his world tilted too much to the right and was washed out in sepia. Then Steve suddenly sprouted two heads on those ridiculously broad shoulders of his. Two pairs of eyebrows pinched and he heard an echoic voice that sounded something like "Tony, what's wrong?"

He blinked hard, chasing away black dots from his vision.

"You with me?"

"Yeah. Think I am."

Steve didn't even need to manhandle him into a chair. He went down far too easily and accepted a proffered glass of water with shaky hands.

"You need a doctor?"

"No," Tony retorted and was glad that the aversion to anything medical came out with just the right amount of conviction. "Long day."

There was a teleconference scheduled with Nick Fury in one hour and boy, he wasn't looking forward to it. Try as he might, Steve insisted he showed up the SOB actually called Pepper behind his back and reminded her to remind him of his responsibilities and duties as an Avenger. But just one look at his countenance and Steve shook his head and removed the glass from his hand before it slipped and shattered on the floor.

"Get some rest, Tony. You look like death warmed over."

Silver linings.

Back in the privacy of his room, he sat gingerly on the edge of the bed and drew in the deepest breath of the century. He turned to the mirror and observed his own complexion. Looking sharp there. Steve didn't need to know about the stabbing pain in the centre of his chest that ended as abruptly as it began, did he? His reflection in the mirror wrinkled his nose.

"OK, maybe I should tell someone," he admitted to no one in particular. "Remind me that again next week."

Then he swiped his tablet from the bedside table and started working on yesterday's turbine design. But that was just the calm before the storm. The symptoms came back at night. The discomfort in the gaping cavity of his torso wasn't as intense as that flash he felt in the afternoon, yet it lasted long enough to distract him from his work. A glance at the clock told him it was near dawn and he still hadn't gotten the sleep he promised Steve he'd have. But it was already Thursday and Thursdays were important to him these days. It was a newly adopted routine. He would drive up to the Maria Stark Foundation at 11 in the morning come rain or shine. And nobody knew why. As necessary as the secrecies were, he didn't quite trust himself behind his steering wheel - nor anyone else for the matter.

Or you could take a cab, a voice in his head suggested. It sounded suspiciously like Arno.

Instead he reached for his phone and dialled the numbers. He waited out the beep beep with calculated uncertainty; he wasn't quite sure when his brother usually wakes up – they hadn't been brothers long enough – but smiled widely nevertheless at the now-familiar chirpy "Hello?"

He finally got all the sleep he promised he'd get. Perhaps more. In fact he'd been in bed for almost 16 hours. Funny, nobody actually came in to check on him, not even mother hen Steve. He could be dead here for all they know. Tony wrestled the blanket away from his body and swung a leg over his bed. Hydration, sustenance, and what have you. Times like this made him wonder how convenient it'd be to inhabit Dum-E –

This was new. It razed him like a white hot poker through the heart he wasn't sure if it was the surprise or the agony that made him crumple unceremoniously to the floor. He clenched a fist around his chest and leaned back on his heels. Yeah, no that wasn't normal. He had to call someone. Steve, Pepper. Someone.

A tight groan escaped him through the death clench of his teeth. It was relentless, clawing at him in measured pulses. He threw his head back onto the firm support of the mattress and breathed. He was going to die like this, wasn't he? He hadn't even said sorry to Steve for eating the last donut with red, white and blue sprinkles on top.

Teary eyes and malfunctioning lungs be damned, Tony could swear he heard a shuffle from the dark corner of his room. A shadow flickered and oh God, he realised belatedly – there was someone in his room.

"Steve?" he hummed, his throat clenching up. That better be Steve, or a friendly because if it was Norman Osborne or Justin Hammer or –

The figure emerged ominously from where it previously stood. A stray beam of light caught his face.

Oh, this was much worse.

"Anthony Stark, thus we meet again."

For this was Loki Odinson standing right before him in his full glory, decked in his battle armour complete with a spear in his grasp. A spear that Tony wasn't familiar with. Since the Mind Stone was still sitting inside Vision's forehead last time he checked – arguably that was two days ago – this was something else. So what was he dealing with now? A new and improved Loki with better magic? Unknown firepower? Better firepower?

His heart seized again and he lurched slightly, squeezing his eyes to blot out the pain.

Loki stayed where he was, his eyes that were still hooded in the shadows an unwavering focus on the fallen human. "It has been some years I admit, but even for you mortals, it could not have been too long. You are far too quiet from what I remember."

Stay and die, or die trying and maybe not die. The odds weren't pretty but damn if he was going to roll over with both arms raised to the skies. Fate and destiny had always been Loki talk, not his. Tony flopped to his side with none of the elegance that Loki extrude and only succeeded in landing himself a vertigo.

Then he coughed wetly.

Footsteps quickened – please let them be Steve's – and he heard the sound of metal being placed lightly on his carpet. Someone knelt by his side and large hands too cool to the touch rested on his forehead and neck.

"How interesting…"

Weakly, Tony pulled away from the unsolicited contact. But Loki was having none of the retaliation. He held the shoulders firmly in place and cupped the side of his jaw. A long thumb came up to swipe at the speck of crimson near the corner of his lips.

The omnipresent haughtiness in his features smoothened somewhat, marred by a slight frown in Loki's dark brows. "What ails you, Man of Iron?"

Tony couldn't muster enough strength to answer. What was he going to say anyway? He didn't know what was going on and this was his damn body.

Loki's eyes trailed lower. "Where is the light in your chest?"

"Had it taken out," he wheezed with enormous effort. "Years ago."

"Do you trust me?"

Oh yeah. Definitely bags of cats up there in that noggin.

"How forward… Make it quick and clean. Housekeeping is… expensive these days."

Here lies Anthony E. Stark, Tony could already see them cast in stone. Frankly he was kind of looking forward to Steve's eulogy. Maybe Captain America would bawl his eyes out at his funeral. He did after all, at Steve's.

Afterlife better be real.

That cool hand crept under his T-shirt. It was so unprecedented it almost give Tony a real heart attack and he instinctively gripped Loki's wrist, stopping his advance. The Asgardian flashed a shark grin, obviously taking pleasure in that momentary showcase of panic.

"You are no use to me dead. Release me. I can help."

Calloused palm and fingers traced upward along the track of his abdominal muscles. It made his insides churn. He already had his suspicions that warriors of bygone areas had questionable sense of personal space and social etiquette. Thor had always been generous with the skinship -

Loki's frosty hand finally rested in the groove between his breasts, right atop his sternum. A soft glow of green emanated from the inside of his shirt and he gasped, relishing how free his airways suddenly were. He gulped air like a dying goldfish returned to its fishbowl and gave his thanks to higher beings that were watching over him. But Loki didn't miss the lingering crease between his eyes.

"The effect should be instantaneous. What else is ailing you?"

"I'm OK," he panted as he swiped a hand across his face. "Pins and needles, nothing serious. Phantom pain, probably. It happens."

"No. Something else is at work. Be still. This requires some effort." The green light grew brighter with a hue of gold tinting its edge. Then Loki sighed, the melodrama was not lost on Tony. "Pity. The orb in your chest is mystifying. I wish to learn more if it. To be able to cancel the works of the Mind Stone is –"

"OK, Professor Snape. I appreciate your help, really. Give me your address, I'll send you a hamper on Christmas. Now stop touching –"

"My magic is not a cure, Stark. I am trying to diagnose the actual cause –"

"Diagnose? I have my personal doctors for that, thank you –"

"Oh, this is most curious indeed."

Tony stopped fidgeting. Not like it did any good at all, Loki had him in place in a vice grip but the triumphant look on his pale Asgardian face piqued Tony's interest enough to override any sense of self-preservation. The greenish glow on his chest phased seamlessly into gold, so brilliant and pure that Tony found himself staring at it stunned, his chin hanging loosely from his jaw.

But most importantly, it felt good. He felt like he was whole again and not the fractured pieces of flesh and bone held together by modern medicine and sheer willpower.

"What did you do?" he asked, his voice pregnant with awe.

"I see it now. That orb in your chest was based on the Tesseract, was it not?" Tony flinched before he could stop himself and Loki deemed it good enough an answer. "So it is. After all the years bearing that burden, residual energy lingers in your body. You might have removed the physical aspect of it. But its… magic, remains still."

"And what are you doing to me now?"

"A favour, Stark," his lips curled in a sardonic grin, all teeth and no warmth. "And you will repay me. Be grateful, for rarely am I this generous outside of my dealings with the Aesir. Then again, my presence is partly to blame. Your body is reacting to the Stone's influence that I myself am harbouring."

Tony whipped around to face Loki fully. "You what? You saying you have all the Stones in your pockets right now?"

"Know that I have travelled farther than what your technology can perceive. Imagine the knowledge that I have gained in my absence from this realm. The power…"

But Tony was already interrogating the various nooks and crannies along the armour plates with his eyes. "No, you fool. I do not have the Stones with me."

Never in his lifetime would he imagine Loki of all things kneeling beside him, holding vigil over his heart trying to save him. The revelations of Loki's activities the past couple of years and the implications on mankind's survival had to be conveyed to Fury, to Steve, to the President – and yet he couldn't beg his muscles to move, not now, because it had been lifetimes away since he'd felt truly mended and God, let him have this, just another 10 minutes or so.

"I followed you to the Maria Stark Foundation last Thursday."

Tony saw gold, then black, then green – the next thing he knew Loki's nose was almost touching his as he'd fisted around the front of the Asgardian's armour and pulled him in.

"Touch one hair on his head," and even Loki seemed mildly taken aback at the deeply set fury in the threat, "I don't care if this starts an intergalactic war with Asgard, I will rip you apart if you hurt him. Do we understand each other?"

"You mistake my intentions, Anthony Stark. I mean you and your brother no harm."

Tony roughly relinquished his hold on the other man. He noted that the bright golden light was still radiating brilliantly between them. "Then what are they?"

And Loki deliberated. He wetted his lips but the words died before they were uttered. His hands were still steady on Tony, his attention very much focused on the healing magic. He tried again but unlike before, he sounded tentative and dull. Almost like he was afraid.

"How does it feel, losing everything?"

Tony huffed. "What, money? Women? Easy come, easy go. You don't get too attached with them."

"What about family?"

The edge of the golden glow seemed to flicker. Tony considered his answers. He teetered between saying what he deemed Loki wanted to hear and what he honestly felt like saying.

He settled for the latter.

"Never had one." Loki's eyes darted up in disbelief. "I'm not making this up. You got to be crazy if you want to talk family to a Stark."

"But you are not a Stark. Everything you know about yourself is a lie. Do you not question your –"

"My origin? My true self? That aside, how long were you listening in on our conversation anyway? Oh hell, you are not crying on me –"

"I am not –"

"I don't understand what you're so upset about. You're all lucked out. Your adopted parents love you like their own. Thor falls practically heads over heels for you. My humble opinion? He's a cool guy and all but doesn't look the 'kneel before Thor' kind so chances are you're next in line for the throne. That doesn't sound like a miserable life for an adopted alien-child, to be honest."

"What about your parents?"

"Ah… my folks are dead, for one. So all these stuff don't matter much anyway. There isn't much to remember save for an abusive, dead beat dad and phony friends who either wanted my money or dick." He must've lost his God damn mind. Nobody knew about this. Not Pepper, not Rhodey. Certainly not Steve. He sighed deeply and shifted his weight to his other butt cheek. "Thor told me about your little adventures with the Warriors Three. Him and his little brother against the world. All I remembered from my own childhood was an unending chase for approvals. Loneliness. All the other kids wanted a bicycle for Christmas. I just wanted to sit in with Mom and Dad and Jarvis for dinner. Ten minutes would've been more than enough."

He rolled his head sideways to regard those brilliant blue, totally of alien origin eyes. "And by the way, finding out that you're adopted doesn't give you the right to just… lash out. You don't see me straying into supervillain territory every other weekend plotting intergalactic annihilation, do you?"

"How will you know loss, if you've never had anything? How will you understand my pain?"

"Now there's no need to get nasty," Tony shot, a wry smirk playing on his lips. "The thing about being human is, we don't quit. You think we'll still be here reigning supreme if we'd stop trying after a couple of setbacks. No, I didn't have the luxury of quitting. Someone put that light in my chest and told me to make it count this time. So I did."

"The mighty Tony Stark against the world."

"Look, how about you kill me right now and show my cold, dead body off to the world. Then you wait and see how many people actually scour the universe looking for your blood." Perhaps belatedly, Tony quickly doubled back. "You know what, forget what I said. I'm saying that I have people I care about. People I will not think twice to die for."

"How noble of you…"

"You think having your stuff taken from you is painful. Wait till you see how it feels like knowing love and companionship after having none, and have that taken away from you."

The golden glow pulsed and shrank until it was nothing more than a marble-sized sphere in the palm of Loki's hand. Not once looking at Tony, he picked himself up from the floor in that regal poise no Frost Giants should logically have and reached for his spear.

"Are you leaving already?"

Loki forged ahead, his steps steady with far more certainty than before. With one boot slipping into the shadowed corner, he turned around and regarded the billionaire once more. "You are quite interesting for a human being, Anthony Stark. A young one at that."

"Don't you want your Christmas hamper? I still need your zip code."

Half of his body flickered out of existence. Tony could only stare.

"You have given me what I seek. Let us not meet again lest on opposite sides of the chessboard. And then, I will show no mercy."

"Right, did you steal a kidney or some – Loki!"

It truly felt like the last twenty minutes hadn't transpired at all. Tony swivelled where he stood, his eyes darting across the room. He even waved a hand randomly where Loki just stood not too many seconds ago. There just wasn't anyone else in his room. But it didn't change the fact that he'd gleaned something off Loki from the meeting. Him and the Stones, and the hint of a battle in the near future, of aliens and Earth?

Apocalyptic.

He sprinted out of the room to find Steve. No words of the Trickster could be trusted, Tony reminded himself as he descended the steps, but something in him quelled the thoughts. Though honesty and truth were so rare he thought he'd forgotten how they tasted like, this bluff wasn't one he could just dismiss. A fairy tale worth sharing, if at all. He skidded to halt and nearly slipped on the polished hardwood. In the kitchen, he saw Steve stop pouring milk into his mouth and almost squeeze the carton in dismay when he saw Tony Stark not resting and out of the bed.

This time, he wasn't alone.