Author's note: Enjoying? Please R&R! It helps motivate me. :B


Tony starts work on the miniaturized reactor almost immediately because he doesn't want to take any chances. He doesn't know how much control Loki has, and he doesn't know how long it will take before the god loses it again, so Tony opts to just get it done and save them all the trouble of waiting for the eventual big bang of a god blowing up in the middle of the city.

The first few days, no one comes down into his lab, not that anyone normally bothers him unless it's Bruce or Steve demanding he eat or sleep or drink water instead of whiskey. Clint is avoiding him like the plague, but the others are acting normal enough. Steve is still pissed off—they all seem to be a bit miffed, actually— and Tony gets it, so he doesn't let it bother him too much. He's used to being the one to wedge sharp objects into their team comp. He had to make a tough call, and it's quite possible it was the wrong one, but he can't change it now.

And he doesn't think he'll end up regretting it. He hopes he won't.

He's running into trouble making the reactor any smaller than the one in his chest, though, and it's pissing him off. The components are intricate and the metal wiring snaps at the drop of a pin if he isn't careful, so even though his hands are steady and his mind is focused, he isn't sure if he's going to be able to muster the patience to complete it without tearing his hair out.

On the fourth day, when his frustration is reaching critical mass, the doors to the workshop whirr open and Pepper Potts walks in with a huge stack of papers and a look that could kill lesser men.

"Good morn— wait, what time is it?" Tony asks brightly as he sets his work down.

Pepper licks her lips like a cheetah ready to pounce. Yeah, Tony thinks, I'm in deep shit.

"When was the last time you went upstairs?" she demands.

"Well, Pep, that depends on what day it is."

Pepper closes her eyes and takes in a slow, deep breath. "I even put the meeting in your personal calendar, Tony," she says calmly and sets the stack of folders on the nearest worktable. "With a reminder, Tony. A reminder."

"I have direct orders to delete any events you add to Sir's personal calendar, Ms. Potts," JARVIS states.

Pepper's nostrils flare and Tony actually takes a step back. "Jarv, seriously?" he hisses, then says to Pepper, "Listen—"

"Tony, I am trying to keep your company running," she snaps, shoulders jerking up and then down again when she sighs. "You're an adult. You save the world. Regularly. I don't understand why this is so hard for you."

He holds out his hands, palms forward, and tries not to laugh because he's pretty sure he used the posture with Loki. "I'm kind of in the middle of a thing, Pep. You know, the kind that saves the world."

She raises a brow in a way that says, my ass you are.

"I'm being serious," he whines and points at his occupied worktable. "I have really important things to do so no one blows up."

"Are you saying my things aren't important?" she grinds out.

He shakes his head vigorously. "No. No no no that is absolutely not what I'm saying."

"Please just read through the reports," she says. "I need to be able to present the approved funding to the board on Friday."

"I'll have it for you by Thursday—"

Pepper picks up the stack of folders and sets it on his worktable with a thump that makes some of the tools rattle. "No," she states stonily. "You're going to do it now. Right now. While I watch. I am not chancing it, and you're only twelve percent reliable at the best of times."

"This is kinkier than your normal behavior. Also, aren't I still the boss? Don't I pay you?" he asks, but he takes the pen she offers and turns to the stack with a huff. "And you're throwing my jokes back at me. I probably had them copyrighted. You should be careful. I have expensive lawyers."

Pepper rolls her eyes and starts walking around the workshop, her heels clicking against the concrete. He watches her for a moment, long limbs and long hair, all grace as she reaches out to tap metal with her perfectly manicured nails. Tony forces himself to look away because he's fine— Tony Stark is always fine— except for the quiet moments when he sees Pepper in all her glory and he realizes how very alone he is. Sure, he has the Avengers, all of them piled into his tower like some special season of Real World. He never wanted it, kind of thought he would hate it, actually. Except he doesn't. They all have their own floors and their own lives outside of their Avengers duties, but at least once a week they all manage to converge in the common area for movies or drinks or cards. There are no questions, no expectations— just a bunch of superheroes, usually battered and bruised and exhausted, enjoying the way-too-strong margaritas Clint likes to concoct.

But it isn't the same. He tries not to admit that very often— or ever, in fact— but sometimes, just sometimes, he can't control it. Yeah, things are pretty normal between him and Pepper, but that isn't the same, either. It was awkward at first when they decided to call it quits— when Pepper decided to call it quits— just before the second big alien invasion. The hurt is mostly gone and Tony's had enough time to think it over and realize that he understands, kind of in the way he understands why the team is pissed at him now. He has priorities that transcend normalcy because he's a selfish prick most of the time. Pepper enjoys order, and Tony is a wild card. One day he's dressed to the nines for a business meeting, and a few days later he's covered in grease with a singed beard and maybe some third degree burns. One day he's alive, and the next he might be almost dead. Pepper is tough, one of the toughest people he knows, but it's not something she can handle, not forever, and Tony doesn't plan to let that side of himself go, so he's got to let the second best thing go.

When he thinks about it that way, he's glad he didn't fight to keep her. Pepper Potts is entirely too good for him.

Tony loses himself in the lawyer lingo because it's somehow less painful than losing himself in thoughts about Pepper, and he's about a quarter of the way through the Pile of Death when a violent shiver courses through him. He rubs at his bare arms, trying to warm away the goose bumps, and looks up. Pepper has her arms crossed over her chest and is puckering her lips, blowing ribbons of smoky breath in front of her. If she didn't look slightly terrified, it would have been cute.

"Tony?" she questions slowly, staring at her breath with wide eyes.

Tony's mind is working a mile a minute to figure it out, but instead of saying that, he blurts out, "I just want to make Frozen jokes."

"Tony!" Pepper hisses.

"Jarv, what's going on? Is something off with the HVAC or something?"

"Sir, the systems are all running normally. However, I do believe you have a visitor incoming," JARVIS states.

"A visitor?" Tony asks dumbly, and then there's a flash of green light and Loki is standing— no, swaying— in the middle of his workshop.

Pepper nearly knocks over a table trying to back away. Her hands are fisted, knuckles white, and there's a ruddy tinge in her otherwise pale face. "What is he doing here?" she demands, voice quavering. "Why aren't the alarms going off?"

"Mr. Laufeyson is a registered guest on Sir's list," JARVIS supplies calmly.

Pepper eyes widen and Tony knows he's in deep shit now.

"Tony," she whispers, and even though her voice is level, she's speaking fast and the words are running together. "Is he joking? Is this a joke? Please tell me this is a joke and you do not have a homicidal god on your registered guest list with access to your workshop. Please tell me this is a joke."

Tony is only half listening to her, though. He's watching Loki, who seems disoriented and looks around slowly, head lulling from one side to the other. There's a discomforting laxity to his stance, too, completely defenseless and weak, and that has Tony's blood pumping because he prefers seeing the god angry and fighting. Loki looks like he's given up now. Tony takes a step towards him. His eyes are green, but there are little flecks of blue eating through.

"Loki," he says gently and holds up a hand to silence Pepper when she snaps at him to not be an idiot. "Loki, focus on me."

Loki's eyes roll and he tilts his head to the side, dark, greasy hair falling into his face. His entire body continues to lean, but he rights himself before Tony has to resort to catching him. His gaze meets Tony's, and Tony sees some recognition spark just before the god's face falls and he rasps, "You invited me, did you not? If I needed you."

"Oh, shit, it's bad, isn't it?" Tony murmurs and takes another step forward. "How bad?"

Loki swallows but says nothing. He doesn't need to.

Tony stares at him for a moment, then opens his arms. "Hug?"

He wants to get a laugh out of the god, and he fully expects Loki to scoff at him, to roll his eyes the way Pepper does when he gets too fresh, but Loki doesn't. He moves before Tony can really understand what's happening, and by the time he can, Loki is pressed against him, long arms circled around Tony's waist and body bowed so his head is resting on Tony's shoulder. Tony's immediate response is to bring his hands up and press them against Loki's chest, but he stops himself from pushing the god away. He can feel Loki's heart thudding like a jackhammer through his clothes.

"Do not get any untoward ideas," Loki whispers, and his voice is still scratchy and weak, but there's an edge to it that Tony didn't know he was missing. "I would never deem you worthy to touch if not for these extreme circumstances."

"That's the spirit," Tony monotones sarcastically. "Tear down my confidence even while you're holding me oh so gent— that hurts!"

Loki snorts and loosens his grip.

Tony grunts. "I think you broke my diaphragm."

"At least your spine is still intact," Loki replies with a shrug.

"Tony."

Tony curses under his breath. He totally forgot Pepper was there. Slowly, he pulls back from Loki, who allows it but immediately turns away. He thinks the god probably forgot, as well, and their brief and really confusing snuggling session probably embarrasses Loki more than it does Tony.

"So," Tony says, "remember how I told you I was working on something to save the world? Yeah, he's it."

Pepper just stares at him.

"Listen, Pep—"

"I will take my leave. I apologize for interrupting you," Loki interjects, and Tony can tell by the way the air around Loki ripples that he's drawing power to himself, so he lunges forward and grabs the god's hand. Loki jerks like he's been burned and whirls towards Tony, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

"Oh no," Tony says. "You still look like you're going to lose your shit, and that isn't happening on my watch. We made a deal. Stay here. Movie, remember?"

"You have no sense of self preservation," Loki snarls when he finally shakes off the surprise and rips his hand from Tony's grip.

Tony hums thoughtfully. "That is not the worst thing anyone's ever said about me."

"Tony."

They both turn towards Pepper, who's red in the face and looks about as likely to explode as Loki.

"I don't even want an explanation," she finally says. "I'll come back on Thursday. Just have the papers signed."

Tony smiles apologetically, but can't stop himself from joking, "Is a psychotic Norse god all it takes to get you to leave me alone? Because I might ask Loki to move in."

Pepper's eyebrows draw together and she breathes out of her nose the way she does when she wants to say something, but she doesn't. And that's even worse, because Tony knows that look— it's the look that means there will be pain later— so he doesn't try to stop her when she leaves.

"That was uncomfortable," Loki comments lightly and leans against one of his work tables. The second he takes his weight off his feet, his body goes lax, limbs loose and head hanging.

"It's freezing in here, by the way," Tony supplies.

Lok grunts and gives a wave of his hand. The room warms, and Loki looks paler than before.

Tony squints at him. "You look tired. You been sleeping?"

Loki raises a brow.

"You've got very expressive eyebrows."

"And you have quite the active tongue," Loki snarks back.

Tony grins. "Oh, you have no idea."

Loki tilts his head and very blatantly lets his gaze drop away from Tony's face.

"Sir, Captain Rogers is on his way down to the workshop, so I would recommend keeping your clothing on for the time being."

Tony snorts. "Jarv, you're so sassy sometimes."

"I do not wish to interact with your Captain," Loki says and pushes away from the table.

"Oddly enough, you still look just as shitty as you did a few minutes ago when we broached this subject the first time—"

The doors to the lab open and Tony looks away for a second, a goddamned second, and when he looks back, Loki is gone.

"I hate magic," he says and clenches and unclenches his fists, trying to release some of the tension building in his shoulders, but it doesn't work. It actually gets worse when he hears—

"Tony, what's going on? Ms. Potts was livid when she left."

Tony throws his hands in the air. "I give up!"

"When was the last time you slept?" Steve asks with a frown and walks towards the table with his piece-of-shit mini arc reactor. "You're really putting everything you've got into this project. Not that you ever tackle things like a normal human being."

"I'm not sure if you're complimenting me or insulting me. Why do people do that? Also, if that was meant as a comparison to you, it can't count because you're not a normal human being."

Steve rolls his eyes. "Why don't you go get a few minutes of sleep? And not on that futon. You'll hurt your back. You aren't getting any younger."

Steve is fighting a smile and he looks really proud of himself. Tony pins him with a stare. "That's pretty funny coming from the Guinness Book of World Records' oldest man alive."

"Sir, Captain Rogers is actually quite young compared to the current record holder, who is one-hundred and fourteen years of age. Captain Rogers is currently ninety-four years old."

Tony pinches the bridge of his nose. "JARVIS, seriously, I am going to decommission you."

"I'm sorry, Sir, I'm afraid you can't do that," JARVIS replies smugly.

A laugh is surprised out of Tony. "You've been talking to Clint, haven't you?"

Steve just looks confused.

"Oh, man, you haven't seen that movie yet?" Tony grabs the stack of folders Pepper left and nods towards the door. "We'll watch it this weekend as long as no aliens try to take over the world. Light's out, I have a nap to take."

Steve follows Tony out the doors and into the elevator. Tony pushes the button to the common floor. They're silent for a few seconds before Steve asks, "Loki was here, wasn't he? That's why Ms. Potts was so worked up?"

Tony gives him a sidelong look, one that says he doesn't want to talk about it, but he knows Steve won't let it go, and he doesn't.

"It's one thing for you to help him, Tony, but you shouldn't be letting him into the tower. How did he even get passed security?"

Tony grits his teeth. He's out of patience after a combination of no sleep, too much caffeine, and not enough food, not to mention the controlling CEO and megalomaniac Asgardian prince who both decided to drop by unannounced. He stares at the panel above the elevator doors and wills it to go faster.

"Tony, seriously, how did he even get in without setting off the alarms?"

He turns towards Steve so quickly it hurts his neck. He's easily half a foot shorter than the super soldier, so Tony has to crane his head back to glare at him properly. "I put him on the guest list, Cap."

Steve blinks, like even he's surprised Tony would be so stupid.

"I know what I'm doing," Tony says.

Grim and disappointed, Steve shakes his head. "What you're doing is asking for trouble."

"You spouted a bunch of lines about how he helped us with Thanos. You changing your tune?"

"My tune was never one that sang approval of a super villain having access to your weapons and research," Steve snaps.

Tony's nostrils flare and he's pretty sure the vein in his forehead is going to pop like an overfilled sausage casing. "So it's okay for him to come here and help me build a laser big enough to put a fucking hole in the moon, but this is out of line? It's okay for him to help us when he feels like it, even though we're on opposite sides, but we can't offer him the same courtesy?"

"He isn't like us—" Steve says, but Tony holds up a hand.

"That's complete bullshit. Romanoff has more in common with Loki than she does any of us. What it comes down to is that he isn't like you. Do you know why that is? Because none of us are like you, Cap. It's great that you have blood on your hands from a war, but killing Nazis is different than what Bruce does when he hulks out, or what Natasha did when she was a Russian spy, or what I did when I threw weapons at the highest bidder."

Steve is wide-eye, mouth open in an 'o' of surprise. "You don't believe any of that."

The elevator dings. Tony turns away from Steve and walks out the door, but not before saying, "Most of us can do this because we have firsthand experience with why monsters need to be stopped. Not because we fought them, but because we were them."

Steve doesn't follow him. Tony's really happy about that because he's fuming and kind of overwhelmed. Even though he knows Steve never means it, he can't help but take some of his righteous bullshit personally because regardless of who Tony is now and all the good he's done and does, skeletons in the closet don't go away, especially for a man who wears his in his chest for everyone to see like a neon Eat at Joe's sign.

He makes his way to the kitchen, glad that no one else is around, and ends up fishing a beer and a leftover burrito out of the fridge. He eats the burrito cold, opens the beer, and heads back to the elevator because it's probably been enough time and Steve has sulked off. He's right, and he rides the elevator up to his suite.

He's nearing his bedroom when JARVIS says, "Sir, I believe I should warn you—"

"Unless the world's ending, mute for now, Jarv. I'm in a mood."

Tony takes a swig of the beer, steps across the threshold to his bedroom, and spits it out in a foamy spray.

"What the fuck," Tony coughs, wiping his face with the back of his hand while clutching Pepper's stack of papers to his chest in an effort not to drop them.

Loki, standing at the window, looks over his shoulder with a smile. "You did entreat me to stay, did you not?"

"How did you get up here?" Tony asks and sets everything on the nearby dresser. "I only gave you security clearance for the lab and the common areas."

Loki's smile turns into a toothy grin. "I do enjoy my secrets."

Tony just stares at him for a moment, then shrugs. "Hey, if you can make it past security, then kudos, I guess."

Loki chuckles and turns back towards the window.

Tony goes into his bathroom to change out of his beer-splattered shirt, and when he comes back, Loki is still there, staring through the glass. He's thinking, Tony can tell, but he can't read the god as well as he'd like, so when he remembers the one time Loki threw him out a window, he decides to stay on the other side of the room. He's muted JARVIS, and while he's able to call his suit to him if he needs to, he'd rather not risk it.

"You're looking better," Tony comments. "Still feeling weak?"

Loki barks out a sharp laugh. "You think me weak?"

Tony grabs his beer. He should have grabbed a six pack. "Dear god, you're worse than Pepper. Don't twist my words around because you're being moody."

The god's eyes flick towards him. "I cannot tell if you are brave or stupid."

"Well, I figure you need me to make you an arc reactor, so I think I'm sat—"

Tony gasps out when his back hits the wall. He drops the bottle, which thuds against the rug and hisses as it spills sudsy beer across the fabric. Tony tries to focus on the hand around his throat and crushing his windpipe, but he always has a hard time focusing on mortal danger when his nineteen-thousand dollar rug is soaking up Clint's shitty light beer.

"That rug," Tony wheezes, because priorities, "is worth a lot of money."

"You are insufferable," Loki snarls, tightening his grip.

Tony can't manage enough air to both breathe and speak, so he decides to breathe. He wraps one hand around Loki's wrist, trying to entreat the god to let him go, but Loki is immovable.

"I could kill you," the god continues, leaning towards Tony. There's a few specs of blue eating through the green of his eyes. "I could kill you and rip the glowing light from your chest. How long would it take you to die, I wonder, before the shards of metal sliced into your arteries and you bled out onto your precious rug."

He's right, Tony thinks as his vision starts to go gray at the edges. Loki could have just torn the reactor out of his chest that day in the loft. Or a number of other times. He wouldn't have been surprised, and really, Tony doesn't think he'd have blamed the god. Loki isn't just angry. He's afraid, really afraid, and not because the endgame is death. Loki's got his mind to lose, and while Tony isn't quite sure how all of their similarities line up, he knows that he'd rather slit his own wrists than risk losing his mind, losing his self control.

"Three days, four tops," Tony rasps, words barely audible.

Loki's face contorts with angry confusion. "What?"

The god loosens his grips just enough for Tony to suck in a decent breath. He ignores the burning in his chest and says, voice cracking, "Three, four days until the shrapnel kills me."

"What?" Loki repeats on a growl.

"I mean, if you want to take it now, I'd have time to make another one. Except I usually have a few spares lying around. I thought I'd make you one that was more, I dunno, portable without a hole in your chest to carry it around, but you're David Copperfield, so you'd probably just hide it up your magical sleeve with a fucking rabbit or something—"

Loki lets him go so suddenly that Tony actually stumbles, most of his weight having been supported by the god. He plants his shaking hands against the wall and coughs so hard he sees red, then rubs at his throat, still heaving in breaths like he almost drowned.

"You would tell me such important information?" Loki demands, standing stiffly a few feet away. His fingers curl into white-knuckled fists, his pupils dilate and constrict rapidly, and golden flecks of magical energy are seeping out of him and churning like a whirlwind. "You would tell me such important information when it is obvious that my mind is not my own? Why give me more reason to tear the blasted thing from your chest?"

"I'm making a point," Tony manages. He doesn't hesitate to make eye contact. "You didn't do it. You didn't tear it out. That means you're still in control. It will be okay."

The blue flecks in the god's irises are there one second and gone the next, and the expression on Loki's face makes Tony's heart fumble around in his chest. He looks rendered opened. Heavy breaths, eyebrows drawn together, eyes glittering unnaturally in the golden light. Like it's the first time anyone's ever told him it will be all right.

"Hey," Tony says gently, and takes a few small steps forward. "Hey, it's okay. Seriously."

Loki stares at him like he's grown another head. He licks his lips and swallows. The magic dies down, only slightly, and then before Tony can even process the movement, Loki is in front of him. The god cups his face, fingertips digging into Tony's cheekbones, and for a second, Tony isn't sure if Loki is going to kiss him or break his neck.

"I find myself surprised time and time again by you," Loki breathes. "You toss about such a flippant facade, express such a reckless abandon for your life despite being one of the most intelligent mortals on the planet, and yet behind the metal exterior you so often don, you are as gentle and caring as a maiden."

"I'm sorry," Tony says gruffly. "Are you dissing me because I have feelings?"

Loki leans forward, the tip of his nose just barely touching Tony's, and he murmurs, "You make me want to tear you apart, Tony Stark."

Tony's man enough to admit when his knees feel a bit weak. He's about to throw caution to the wind and grind himself against Loki's thigh to show the god what he makes him want to do, but Loki takes a step back.

"I don't do feelings often," Tony says to cover up the sexual tension that's suddenly tangible enough to cut with a knife. He's pretty sure Loki's just fucking with him— God of Mischief, hello— but Tony's turned on, and he's not about to make himself more laughable. "So consider yourself one of the lucky few."

"I will," Loki says with a quirk to his lips that shows exactly how much he doesn't believe Tony, but the way he says it makes Tony think Loki's covering up just as much as he is. It makes him feel slightly better about the whole situation.

Tony clears his throat and nods towards the stack of folders on his dresser. "Well, you interrupted business mode earlier, so I should probably get these done before I forget and Pepper skins me alive."

Loki doesn't say anything, just walks up to Tony and places his hand on the top of the pile. Chromatic green light flares beneath his palm for a split second before it sinks through the paper. Loki smiles.

"It is the least I can do," he says quietly, and then he disappears in the same flash of light.

Tony isn't surprised, when he flips through the stack, that every signature is in place.

15