I've never written about superheroes or gods or mpreg. I thought I needed the challenge with something far out of my comfort zone. So, any constructive criticism or tips are greatly appreciated.

Tony dragged a chair beside his bed and sat down heavily with a sigh. He leaned forward with his elbows digging into his thighs and scrubbed his face roughly with his hands.

"Jarvis, lights. Twenty percent."

The lights that had been glaring reduced to a tolerable glow, and Tony looked, really looked, at the god that slept fitfully under the thick blankets of his bed. There was blood staining his hands but he didn't know how to react to it, not yet. It had been over a year since Loki had attacked. There was no malicious intent or even residual hate but the sight of the god in his bed, albeit wounded, created conflicting feelings in Tony.

Pure exhaustion had driven Loki to sleep. He had fought it until he staggered forward. He would have fallen if Tony had not been there to catch him. Now, his brow furrowed and his hands clenched around fistfuls of the Barking Irons shirt Tony had dressed him in. The billionaire looked down at the digital reader on the bed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had run it three times and each time it had come back positive. Loki was pregnant.

Two hours earlier…

The god had shoved himself as far into the corner of the lab as he could, knees drawn to his chest to hide his face. Tony hadn't even noticed him. It was the breathing that got his attention. It was a ragged inhale and wet stuttering exhale that made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. The billionaire turned in his seat, jumping up into a defensive stance when he recognized the rail-thin figure. But he noticed the blood smears on the wall and floor, the manacles still binding Loki's wrists to his waist. There was this instinctive knowledge that something was completely and horribly wrong, yet it wasn't his own safety he was worried for.

"Hey, Rudolph." Tony called out nervously. His heart hammered in his chest as he shuffled forward to kneel close to the other man.

"Should I alert the others, Sir?" Jarvis' ethereal voice echoed through the room.

"No, hold on a bit." Tony replied. He reached out the lightly brush his fingertips across the other's knees

Loki looked up, his eyes wide and constricting in the harsh light of the lab. His mouth began to open to let loose the scream building in his throat but he was stopped by the stitches that held his lips together. He leapt at Tony, hands straining and manacles cutting into the tender flesh of his wrists. The billionaire caught him in his arms even though the god struggled to tear at him with frantic frenzy. Tony grabbed Loki's wrists and felt the rapid pulse beneath his fingertips. And he saw himself in those wide eyes. It was the him right after his escape, after his capture in Afghanistan.

The billionaire called the other's name in a voice just under a yell. "I won't hurt you, I won't." He promised. "Nothing's going to hurt you here."

Loki fell against him, exhausted and struggling with a hacking cough through the stitches. The god was far thinner than before, bordering on skeleton-esque with dark circles rimming his eyes. Blood had run down from his scalp to dry in streaks across his face.

Loki's face twisted in pain, sweat beading on his forehead. He used Tony to pull himself upright and staggered back against the wall, leaving a blood smear on the white wall when he shifted. He flinched as Tony took a step closer.

"Let me get…those off." Tony gestured around his mouth.

Loki's eyes flashed with distrust, his hands clenched into malformed fists, but he took a tumbling step toward the billionaire. A groan passed through the stitches.

Tony had to carry Loki in his arms to an empty lab table, the god's head nestled in the crook of his neck and the stitches scratching at the sensitive skin. It wasn't even an effort to carry him the short distance.

Gently laying the god on the cool metal table, Tony then grabbed a pair of scissors and dragged a chair to the head of the table. Loki flinched slightly, nostrils flaring and wrists straining against the short chains for a brief second when Tony laid a steadying hand on the side of his face. With the soft hum of machines in the background, the billionaire brought the tip of the scissors to hover near the swollen lips. He cut the thread, absentmindedly stroking the prominent cheekbone gently with the callous pad of his thumb until the last thread had been cut. Loki opened his mouth slowly, his breath ragged and wet.

"Don't talk yet." Tony ordered, avoiding eye contact. He grabbed tweezers he had used to pick shrapnel out of his suit and began to remove the threads. They were coated with pus and blood, making it a painstakingly long process.

Once he was finished, the billionaire laid his hands to either side of the god's face, the skin hot to his touch, and asked, "What happened?"

"As-Asgard. No…magic" Loki's voice was somewhere between a strained whisper and pained growl. He tried to move his tender lips as little as possible. A sudden hacking cough was quickly followed by a moan.

"Talk about family values." Tony murmured. "Hey, whoa what are you doing?"

Loki had turned on his side to push himself upright with an elbow. He swayed where he sat, his eyes fluttering.

"No more." Loki's head lolled forward until his chin came to rest on his chest and his eyes drifted close.

"No more what? Loki, hey, wake up." Stark grasped the other's arms as he began to slowly fall forward.

The god's eyes flew open and he jerked out of his hands. The soft clank of the chains echoed around the room.

"No more what?" The billionaire asked again.

Loki's hands went to his stomach, clenching into fists above the tattered clothing. He ducked his head so his long hair obscured his face. "Don't…hurt me."

"I won't. I…Does Thor know you're here?"

"No." Loki slid off the table to Tony's cry of protest. "Not them too."

The god took a few determined yet trembling steps toward the door before he nearly fell to the ground. Tony lurched forward and held him close before he could hit the ground.

While Loki had given over to exhaustion, Tony carefully cut away the manacles and the tattered clothes. He recoiled at what lay beneath.

Bruises covered a significant portion of his body, accentuated by varies depths and degrees of cuts and burns. Blood was everywhere, dried in the crevices of his palms and beneath his fingernails. It outlined his spine and remained in an alarming degree in between his thighs. Tony pricked the god's finger to apply to drop of fresh blood to his computer's scanner.

Tony scanned the god for broken bones, finding a couple broken ribs and fingers, and a sprained knee. He cleaned the wounds, dressed them carefully. His fingers ghosted over the pale skin, fascinated yet horrified by the brutality. Finally, he dressed the god in his spare shirt and sweats before he gently picked Loki up in his arms again to carry him to the elevator.

"Top floor. No stops."

He couldn't go to Fury, not with this. Tony felt oddly responsible. He could remember the terror and the fury of being held captive in Afghanistan, and yet it didn't compare. This was torture, brutality and hatred etched in every cut and burn. Every bruise was a symbol of malicious intent. And it was true: there was no magic in Loki. The scans supported the god's claim that he was completely and utterly human.

"And pregnant." Tony groaned and held his head in his hands. "What the hell is going on?" He rubbed a hand vigorously over the stubble on his cheek and made a noise of frustration.

At the sound, Loki's eyes flew open and he sat upright, wincing at the pain in his ribs. He pushed himself out of Tony's reach, a hand held out in defense. A green glow radiated from his palm only to flicker and die.

"You really weren't kidding about the whole not having magic thing." Tony said easily as he leaned forward in his seat. "Why did you come here?"

Loki rose to a kneel, a sneer beginning on his lips as he tried to regain some semblance of his old self. He forgot the puncture wounds around his lips and winced.

"I didn't." His voice was still low and gravelly, like metal scraping on pavement.

Tony handed him a glass of water which he stared at with open suspicion.

"It's not poison." Stark said as he rubbed his hands together nervously.

There was a beat of silence then Loki handed the glass back, his eyes were red with exhaustion but still held that spark of rebellion. Stark rolled his eyes before he grabbed the glass to take a sip.

"I apologize." Loki said after a moment. He took the glass back and drank slowly. "It's not the first time…"

The god glanced at his splinted fingers, the fresh clothes hanging from his thin frame and lack of blood. "You shouldn't have—"

"I wanted to." Tony replied quickly. "You're pregnant. Did you know that? Which is weird because, well, you're a guy. Is that a god thing or a strictly you thing? Though I guess congratulations are in order."

Hurt flashed in the other man's eyes for the briefest of seconds before he tamped it down and attempted a glare. "You must love this; Loki, the Fallen God, the Defiled Prince." He struggled to inhale. "This is what you wanted. You wanted my compliance, my subjugation."

Tony shook his head. "No, I don't want…I'm trying to help. I don't understand any of this. You shouldn't even be here, on Earth let alone the Tower, which I'll remind you, you threw me out of."

Loki's eyes were downcast. "You'd think me a liar if I tried to explain." He responded, voice halting. "I am sorry."

The billionaire watched as the god relaxed slightly, seeming to fold in on himself as his moved his hand over the soft fabric.

"Do you believe me a monster, Stark?" He asked suddenly and with genuine curiosity.

Stark hesitated, taken aback by the sudden question. "When I hated you, I guess I did. And now, I don't know."

"What of my children? I've watched my children taken away, called monsters before they were even born. I watched my son forced to murder his brother. So, take me to Fury or summon Thor if you must, but, if I survive this, not until my children are safely out of their reach. Let them have that." Loki swallowed thickly. "I…surrender myself to you, Stark."

Tony saw that he had poured all his energy into his plea, his eyes struggling to remain even cracked open. Stark climbed onto the massive bed and gently lowered Loki down to rest. Just as he opened his mouth to try and say something comforting, there was a crack of lightning so loud it rattled the windows.

"Blinds close." Tony called loudly as Loki reached for his arm.

"Don't tell him. Please. No more of my children. Not them as well."

Almost instinctively, the billionaire reached out and ran a hand gently over the other's arm.

"Alright. I won't tell him." Tony promised even as his stomach gave a nervous flutter.

"Sir, Thor has arrived in the rooftop." Jarvis' voice echoed softly around the room.

Tony rose to his feet as he replied, "Send him down to the rec room."

"Shall I keep an eye on your houseguest, Sir?"

Tony looked back to see Loki had fallen into another fitful rest. "If anything happens let me know. Discreetly though. Get the others into the rec room too."

He had to clean off first. Tony stopped at the bathroom and saw his haggard reflection in the mirror, the blood on his cheeks from when he rubbed them in exhaustion. He scrubbed quickly, jogging into the rec room to find the rest of the Avengers gathered in a semi-circle around Thor.

"What's going on? We gonna hold hands, sing Kumbayah?" The billionaire asked as he joined their group.

Thor turned to him, clutching Mjolnir so tightly his knuckles paled. "I am not here for sport, Stark. My brother has gone missing."

Clint's eyes narrowed and he fingered the hilt of his knife. "What makes you so sure he's on Earth?"

"I was to bring him here to serve out the rest of his punishment but he escaped me before we could land." Thor replied. "My father stripped him of his powers, but if you see him take care; his actions are unpredictable. He has grown …particularly aggressive."

"I can't wait to say 'hello'." Clint murmured, feigning surprise when Natasha threw a punch at his arm.

Tony stepped up and asked. "Why here? Weren't you the one that said Asgard would take care of him? Why pass him off to us?"

The god looked down but they could all see the pain flashing in his eyes. "My brother is not as he seems. When the AllFather took Loki's magic from him, he became mortal. He could no longer endure Asgradian justice. He bore it as best he could until…I begged my Father to bring him here while he had strength still left in him. He cannot be far."

"What'll you do with him? When you find him, what next?" Tony asked.

Thor's jaw clenched. "My brother will face your justice, whatever Fury wills in keeping with your laws."