Loki watched as the Avengers, his teammates, gathered around the table in the communal dining room in Stark Tower. Steve had spent most of the morning making sure the turkey would be perfect. Clint had said that he was going to make stuffing but in the end he made something called potato filling. Bruce made the vegetables because he had rather quickly realized that no one else would. They all seemed to have something to add to the diner they would be sharing.
As they all sat down to eat Loki watched how much each person took. Thor took almost half of the turkey all for himself. Which only made Steve smile, he had another two turkeys ready in the kitchen just waiting to be carved. Natasha was the only one who took any of Bruce's caramelized butternut squash which was quickly hidden under a pile of mac and cheese. A dish he hadn't even seen until she had pulled the bowl practically out of nowhere. Tony took spoonful after spoonful of the potato filling. Steve, of course, took a bit of everything.
Loki sat there with a mostly empty plate. Yes, he wanted to pile the food upon the plate like everyone else. Yes, everything looked delicious. Yet every time he reached to put something on the plate the food turned completely unappetizing. He saw intestines, bodies, blood and guts. A bit of cranberry sauce fell onto his hand and for a brief moment he forgot how to breathe.
After several minutes of watching Loki stare down an empty plate, Tony leaned in. He passed a bit of his potato filling onto the plate.
Loki's eyes widened. He couldn't seem to tell if it was filling or his own bile. He couldn't breathe.
Tony took a bite off of the plate and deliberately took his time eating it. He spoke in a voice that was just above a whisper, "Whatever you think you're seeing. You're not. It's all in your head. I know how you can't seem to eat anything. I don't think I've actually seen you eat since you signed up to be an Avenger. I sort of get it, okay. You've been through a lot. You've pretty much been through hell. But nothing is wrong with this food, and it is just that, it's food. You watched us cook most if not all of it. So please just eat a tiny little bite."
Loki watched Tony eat the potato filling and knew that it wasn't poisoned. He knew it wasn't going to start suddenly bleeding. He knew...so much yet still he hesitated. But then Tony had started to talk. He payed attention to each word, each breath. He lifted his fork to his lips without noticing. It didn't matter. What mattered in that moment was what Tony had to say.
"See, you're doing it. You almost have had your first bite of Thanksgiving diner. You got this. You're doing so well. Lokes, you are stronger than your own head. If I can eat a cheeseburger after Afghanistan you can eat some turkey after everything that's happened to you. And no those things aren't the same, not really. But you- good job!"
Tony was still practically whispering but everyone noticed what was happening. They played their part. They continued on with life and diner as if nothing was amiss.
Loki brought the fork to his mouth and he managed to take a bite. And after months of not eating the potato was almost overwhelming. The potato, celery, garlic, and the butter all seemed to explode across his tongue. Somehow the feeling wasn't unpleasant. In fact, the almost sensory overload to his palate was welcome. For the first time in months, Loki actually felt thankful.
Tony carefully made a proper pile of food on Loki's plate. "Please. Eat. Even if it's only a few bites."