It was dirty and rotten smelling, and just so…different to what he was used to. He was used to cleanliness, to a clear and precise order, and everything had its own place. The streets of New York were definitely not like home. Loki looked at his grime covered hands, and his eyes moved to his blood-soaked feet. He felt pain all over his body, and knew the damage was quite a list; he had, over a small amount of time, acquired a broken arm, a sprained ankle, three broken toes, multiple cuts all over his body, some of which were quite deep, and a few concussions. Within his second week, he had to sell his body for money, until a particularly violent customer beat the living shit out of him, and almost strangled him to death, leaving black and purple blotches on his neck. The God of Mischief had only spent about 8 weeks on Midgard and already he had been beaten more times than he could count, walked more miles than he could comprehend, and had even begged. Begged! Loki, the God of Chaos had begged. Oh, how he wished he could go back and take back everything. How he dreamed of being held in his mother's arms, possibly even crushed by Thor's grip, and looked upon by his father's single eye.
So lost in thought was he that he did not notice the large men that had come into the alley-way.
"Look what we have here, Spike?" One of them said, as he crouched down and looked Loki in the eyes. "Isn't he a pretty one?" The other man-Spike-grunted in response and violently grabbed his arm and heaved him up. Loki yelped as his feet stung and his muscles ached. His arm pounded with pain as the grip tightened. The first man stood slowly. "We'll have some fun with him. We won't even have to pay for this one." A cruel, mocking laugh came from him. "On your knees." He ordered.
How ironic. Loki thought. I deserve this. I'm lucky I'm not in Asgard suffering Odin's wrath. A bitter laugh escaped his chapped, broken lips before he could stop it.
"What are you laughing at, lovely? Enjoying this?" Spike whispered into his ear, pushing on Loki's shoulders. Loki's legs collapsed from under him, and he fell to his knees. He hated himself for his weakness, but there was no point, so Loki closed his eyes and waited for the assault that he knew was to come.
But it didn't come. And when he opened his eyes, the two bodies were lying on the floor, not quite dead, but obviously breathing shallow. Loki looked up and saw two other men, a blonde and a dark haired man.
"Are you okay?" The blonde asked, offering a hand to help him stand. Loki tried to shuffle backwards at the hand. The man instantly pulled his hand away from him and held them up as if surrendering. "Sorry. We're not going to hurt you." Loki wearily watched as he slowly approached again. "Me and my friend, Tony, were passing by and we saw that you needed help."
Loki opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was a small cry of pain as he felt his cuts sting, and his broken bones throb.
The darker haired man took a step forward at the sound. "Steve, he's in a lot of pain."
"I can see that, Tony!" The blonde called Steve "Can we take him back to the tower? You know, have Bruce look him over." Steve said.
Loki knew Tony replied, but the pain was excruciating, and his vision was blurring, and his head was pounding, and he felt bile rise in his throat. He quickly turned himself so that he could vomit, without getting any on himself, or the people who had saved him. As soon as he had finished emptying his stomach of anything he may have eaten in the past 48 hours, he was raised off the hard concrete, and his head was buried in a warm chest. The people seemed to be hurrying as he felt the horrifying feeling of bobbing up and down quickly, although he did feel a breeze on the side of his face. He gave a pitying whine and Steve lowered his head to Loki's ear and apologized softly. "I'm sorry. I know it hurts, but you'll be okay soon. I promise." Before long, he felt himself being lowered onto something soft and he couldn't help but sigh in relief. He barely heard a "Step on it, Tony" and a deep laugh before he passed out in both physical and mental exhaustion.