There's a type of emotion that tragedy brings to a person. This emotion doesn't particularly have an adjective to describe it, nor does it have a set definition. It's an emotion sort of like love, but the complete polar opposite on the emotion scale. It makes a person near empty, void of thought, sleep, feelings, or words. It just leaves them there staring at the clock not understanding how that could happen to them. It leaves that person hollowed out, gutted like the Thanksgiving Turkey but they won't be eaten. No, they don't get the glory of ending like that turkey does. They have to continue on with their life. They're expected to. But how can they if the person they need with them isn't there?
The body has a way of being your worst enemy. Your body isn't hungry, but your stomach growls at you. Your body is tired but the mind is too wired on a replay of what happened; yet it's completely blank. But when you finally do fall to some kind of slumber, not particularly restful or even deep, the mind congratulates you. For some, they dream of nothing. Others, they dream of everything but.
For Loki, he dreams of the one he just lost. He dreams of a false reality where reality was only a dream and he wishes his dream was real. But it's not. It's not his reality and it never can be.
When he wakes up he's not sure what time it is, or what day, or what's real. He's strung along by the realness of his dream that nothing had happened. But when he shifts and everything is cold around him and his knuckles are sore from clutching the pillow it all comes crashing into him all over again.
Tony is dead.
And Loki is not. Loki is in their shared bed, on Tony's side, with soggy cheeks, sore fingers, and his body frozen from the still wet clothing Thor had left him in.
How? How can this all be real when his dream was so vivid? He could smell Tony. He could feel his kiss. He could feel the blood pumping beneath him. Maybe it wasn't a dream. Maybe they had just gotten caught in the rain and Loki just didn't remember.
All of his hopes were shattered when Thor creaked the door open and timidly stuck his head in. "Brother?" his voice was too soft if everything was okay. Maybe Thor had a bad dream? Tony should create a dream catcher that actually works. "Brother, the robotic voice told me you have awoken," he spoke slowly as he entered the room. Thor didn't fear Loki's wrath without Loki's magic.
All of Loki's hopes quickly left him when Thor sat on the edge of the bed, touched his calve, and said, "my deepest condolences go to you, my dear brother. Let us not leave you in those cold, wet clothes any longer. A shower might due good for you."
All of his hopes were gone, his body tensed and he let out a loud, painful sob into his pillow. He clawed at the fabric and asked why into the pillow, muffled and drowned out by sobs.
Thor let out a great sigh and stood to walk to the head of the bed. He touched his brother's shoulder then gave it a gentle squeeze. "Brother, please," his voice was soft as he sat the man up. "Let me aid you now." He pulled Loki up to his feet and somehow Loki found the strength within his knees to at least hold his body up. His eyes were red already from his sudden sobbing. It was much sadder, much more personal, than when Loki was in his Jotun form and his eyes were painted red.
The thunder god led Loki to the bathroom suite where he undressed his brother, his eyes shy and shameful on his brother's naked skin. "Do shower," he instructed, "the water is warm like you like it. I will be here when you finish. Perhaps you can eat something." Thor's voice was all too quiet, an unfamiliar tone on the boisterous god. Perhaps Loki underestimated Thor's soft side.
Somehow, Loki wasn't sure, he managed to stand beneath the hot water and wash his body. It didn't clear his head, but he wasn't exactly thinking either. All he knew was this is what he was supposed to do. Somehow he needed to shower every day or Thor would come and undress him and make him shower. Would he be hand fed, too?
Loki didn't want to see the looks on everyone's faces. He definitely didn't want to be pitied. He didn't want any of the Avenger's mourning with him, or telling him they were sorry, or that he was in their prayers. Prayers to who? Jesus? Odin? Odin's the one who didn't help him. This is all someone's fault and he didn't know who to blame. That driver. That stupid driver that didn't fucking stop. That stupid driver that should have been paying attention but wasn't, that stupid fucking idiotic quim.
He felt himself not being able to breathe and decided he couldn't fall over in the shower because then Thor would have to touch him. No matter how void of sense Loki was, thinking about Thor helping him up while he was naked and extremely vulnerable made him shudder. It was bad enough Thor was in the same room as him, trying to help him. At least he wasn't acting like he understood. He didn't and he never would, and he didn't want to see him try to understand.
With some effort, he got himself washed up and out of the shower. He peered over to Thor, "would you mind leaving the room as I dry off? I surely do not need your aid in dressing myself," his words were bitter and cold, his eyes barely forgiving as he stared to Thor. If Thor was going to put himself there, then he would get the wrath Loki was feeling over the loss of Anthony Stark.
Thor stood with hesitation, then nodded, and left the bathroom. Loki could feel that he hadn't gone far but Loki wasn't about to waste his breath in being particularly picky in where Thor sent himself after Loki asked him to leave; as long as he wasn't in the same room as him.
Loki stared to himself in the mirror. His eyes were swollen and bruised beneath the sockets from lack of proper sleep, his eyes still bloodshot, his lips in a permanent pout, and his eyebrows slightly knitted together with a deep sort of sadness that flowed throughout the rest of his features. He found his way to dry off, brush through his hair, and leave the bathroom to find some kind of dry clothes to put on. He settled on sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt that may or may not have actually belonged to Tony.
Ignoring Thor's presence still he hung up his wet towels then went to the dirty hamper and pulled out a shirt Tony had been wearing just the other day. A nice dress shirt for whatever function they had been invited to. It smelled like Tony and the cologne he always wore because Loki had always made a pleased sound or expression whenever Tony wore it in the early days in the relationship.
He gripped the shirt tightly in his hands and finally acknowledged that Thor was still there. "You have more plans for me," it was more like a statement, or observation, than a question. Loki's voice was quiet now, not so venomous, but it wasn't entertained either.
Thor nodded, "Steve has cooked a breakfast," though Thor wasn't sure Steve had stopped moving since they had all arrived back to the tower hours earlier, "we shall warm it up for your stomach." Thor opened the door and watched Loki watch the doorway.
He couldn't do it. He couldn't risk facing anyone; he couldn't even handle the thought of eating in anyone's presence or eating. Tony would never be able to eat again. No more hamburgers, or Shwarma, or whatever other foods he was always going on about.
The god's body fell to the floor clutching the shirt to his chest with both hands, his knees up to his chest as he sobbed again. "Why? Why?" he cried into his knees, his body shaking. His lungs gasped for air but he refused to fill them. Strong arms wrapped around him tightly, repositioned his body, and he was engulfed by legs and strong hands and a comforting, deep voice on top of his head as he was rocked back and forth much like a baby. Loki couldn't even get mad at the hold he was in.
Thor was telling him it was okay. He whispered to his hair, "it's okay, brother. You can cry. I am so sorry I could not help the Man of Iron. I am so sorry," and Loki remembered thinking it wasn't good if both gods blamed themselves for the death but at the time he didn't care. He hated Thor, he hated Tony, he hated Odin, and he hated himself. His stupid, mutt, Jotun, Asgard self.
"What a fool I am for loving anyone," he cried into Thor's chest, now gripping the man's shirt tightly. His hands didn't stay still and they clung to his chest, to his sides, then at himself. His fingernails found their way to dig into his own arms and he sobbed loudly. "What a fool…" his sentence broke off as he just continued to cry into his brother's chest.
After what may have been hours Loki's tears led up and he was left in an exhausted heap within Thor's still very firm grip. He shifted some and Thor let up on his grip. Taking a deep breath, Loki stood up, took another deep breath and let it out in a sigh.
"Okay," he said quietly "let us eat."
With his agreement to move on for food Thor stood up and led the way with Loki following close behind with Tony's shirt still tight in his grip. He most likely looked like death, though he found that anyone would be a fool to comment on his state of appearance.
Steve Rogers, the Captain that he was, was still cooking, chopping, slicing, and dicing when the brothers approached the kitchen. Steve didn't look too good, either, but still no one said anything.
Loki sat down at the table as Thor created plates for them; his eyes steady on Steve as the man chopped whatever he was pretty hastily. Loki didn't remember Tony ever telling him that Steve enjoyed cooking. Maybe he didn't. He probably didn't. They had always ordered take out even when Steve was there visiting.
"Shit," Steve muttered under his breath harshly after slicing himself on the knife. He dropped the knife heavily onto the cutting board and curse again, sticking the wound in his mouth and picked the knife up only to cut whatever he was cutting over and over again harshly.
Before Loki knew it he was across the room taking the knife out of Steve's hand and pulling his thumb from his mouth, inspecting the thin slice of flesh. "You'll be fine," was all Loki said as he looked to the man's face, "barely got you."
Then Steve pulled Loki into a really tight hug, and Loki complied to the touch. He hugged Rogers rather tightly in return as he felt his moist face against his neck. Steve was muttering something about how he shouldn't be blubbering into Loki, of all people's, shoulders but Loki just hugged the big idiot and told him to shut up.
The god persuaded Steve to eat with them. "Surely you are curious about the taste of what you have made for us," Loki had said in as much of a suave tone as he could get, "now I request that you do join Thor and I."
It wasn't a happy meal, but it was a meal. Thor out ate them all, Loki picked but he got enough nutrients in his body for Thor to stop saying 'brother, you must continue eating' as if he were a distracted child, and Steve Rogers found his hunger somewhere after the roast beef stew.
After getting Loki out of his room, Thor had made it a point to keep him out. He bored the man with stories, television, bad acting, food, and trivia that Loki already, of course, knew more of than Thor did.
In the next few days the atmosphere perhaps lifted just slightly within the tower. Steve stopped cooking so much, much to Thor's disappointment, and Loki was grateful to not hear Thor's insidious mouth slurping noises so much. He also would not have to hear, "America's Captain, you have outdone yourself this time!" followed by loud laughter and more eating. Loki could handle quite much from Thor, but his eating habits were not one of them.
He was nervous walking into the funeral home, and then the reception area. Loki was not often nervous over public appearances, but this would be the first time everyone Tony &/or him ever knew on Midgard would all be huddled together crying over the lost genius and giving Loki pitiful looks. Pity was not something he wanted from anyone. If someone said the wrong thing he knew he was a ticking time bomb. He could go off from anything anyone said. He was still quite strong, even without his use of magic, and his silver tongue has yet to fail on a human (besides Tony).
While at the funeral everyone made small speeches about Tony in the best regard. Jarvis even made an appearance, thanks to Bruce Banner, and Loki could have sworn that sarcastic AI sounded choked up.
Everyone had said something to Loki, whether he knew them or not, and everyone who should be accounted for had been there. Even Happy, who always was fidgety and nervous around Loki- though he seemed more uneasy today. He was forgiven, though, considering the placement of their meeting.
"Thor," Loki looked over to his brother who was demolishing lasagna he remembered some older lady bringing in, "Thor please stop your love affair for food just one moment. Have I missed Miss Potts?" His gaze ran over the crowd mingling amongst one another. "I'm sure I have not."
The Thunder God nearly choked on his food, "Perhaps she got tied up with Stark Industry, brother. Need you not worry about her."
"You mustn't lie to a lie smith, Thor," Loki probed, "You know where Miss Potts is, don't you?"
"Oh, darling," some woman exclaimed, placing her hands wrongly on Loki's hand and then his shoulder. "The pain must be fogging your memory, you poor darling." She looked up to Thor, who was frowning greatly at her, then to Loki who looked absolutely puzzled. "Though, even considering your loss, I don't know how you could forget such a thing. They were such good friends for such a freak accident."
"What are you talking about?" Loki asked, his brows furrowed with extreme frustration with this woman. What was she talking about and why was Thor growing so tense? The entire room had gone a little more quiet and their attention was gradually moving to Loki and this woman.
"Pepper and Tony," she cleared, "Pepper was driving that car. I'm su-" Loki didn't give her a chance to finish her sentence before smacking her across the face as he rose from his chair.
"What?" His lips were a tight, thin line as he stared to the woman fumbling back. His eyes shot around the room, heart running for an escape route, and stomach churning with absolute disgust.
As Loki approached the woman she only screamed and Thor's hand gripped his arm tightly. "Loki, don't."
"You knew!?" he accused, "You knew and you refused to tell me! What? You think it a good idea in your brain to keep such a thing from me?" Loki hadn't been this dark in years. He hadn't used such wrath in his voice in quite a long time. He stood before Thor and Steve, who had quickly made his way across the room, his chest heaving, and eyes angry and wild. "You knew," he repeated dark and angry, "you both knew. You knew that she hit him. She hit him and she drove away, unsure of what just happened, is her plea? Is it?" He stared from both of them, back and forth. "Is it?"
"Loki w-," "Enough!" Loki stared to Steve Rogers whose guilt was plastered over his face. "We didn't know how to tell you it was her, Loki." "So the Captain finds his voice now? Once my beloved has been buried deep within this cold ground."
Thor shouldn't have spoken. He shouldn't have even opened his mouth to say a word because Loki was throwing himself at Thor's throat with all of his strength. Imbecile.
It took a SHEILD invasion, Captain America, and The Hulk to get Loki off of Thor- who was a bloody mess. They shot something into Loki's arm to sedate him long enough so he could be brought back to the tower.
When Loki woke up he was in an unfamiliar fluorescent room that had tile floors, white walls, a single chair, and his bed. His arms and legs were strapped to the bed and he, for a moment, wondered if he had been hospitalized and how well that had gone over when they got blood tests by the doctors. But then he heard the door open and saw an unpleasant dark figure approach the bed then sit down.
It was Nick Fury with a small file and a frown.
"I wish not to hear what you have to speak," Loki said bitterly, "I know all I must know. Do leave me here in silence."
"Stop being so melodramatic, Loki," Nick Fury gave no shits. "I am here to tell you everything accidental about Anthony Stark's death that includes Pepper Potts." He waited for a response but when Loki only balled his fists and pressed his lips together to a tight line he continued. "On the day of the accident, Miss Pepper Potts was driving her own vehicle and was accompanied by one man named Happy. The two confessed to horsing around when they came up to the intersection and did not notice the light had changed color, or that pedestrians were crossing through the cross walk. Upon impact, they both panicked and continued to drive away where Pepper called 9-1-1 in hysterics and was immediately arrested when found by the law enforcement.
"Happy has been released and Pepper remains behind the cell. SHEILD has taken responcibility to press charges against Miss Potts on your behalf since you were, indeed, struck by the vehicle as well. You, being a god, survived the impact but were still affected at the scene of the crime. There is a court hearing for Miss Pepper Pott's sentencing in the following weeks. Apparently laws, unions, and other particulars have found it upon themselves to claim this as a homicide rather than a freak accident. Tony's acquaintance with her brings up the closed files and rumors pertaining to that of Obadiah far back. You are requested to appear at these trials and hearings. You will be accompanied by Steve Rogers, Thor, and Natasha as well as a number of other SHEILD agents within the courtroom. Your outburst on Thor has gotten our eye back on you even though you remain powerless. If you happen to lose control of your mind and try to kill Miss. Potts, we will be there to stop you. Do I make myself clear?"
Loki nodded and clenched his teeth, loosened his fists, then relaxed his jaws. "May I go home now?"
He could have thrown Thor and Steve Rogers out of the window numerous times as they pestered him about leaving the tower over the following weeks before the hearing. Thor deemed it unacceptable that Loki was becoming far paler than ever and perhaps they could go for a picnic in the park.
"Oh how queer, Thor. Two demi-gods picnicking in central park on a blanket with a basket filled with sweets. Shall we invite Captain Rogers for a threesome as well?" A thin line formed into a smirk on Loki's face and he looked over to Steve who now held a defiant blush over his cheeks.
"Oh, uh, no- no thanks, Loki. I should probably go food shopping for dinner instead. Maybe we can go fishing or hunting some other day."
"Those activities can still be turned queer, Roger. Three men stranded on a boat bending over to attach bait to the hooks. And before you know it I'm goosing you because of your 'buns of steel', as Anthony referenced them." Loki was still smirking devilishly to Rogers, who now was fumbling over everything in the kitchen he couldn't even cover it up.
They all would agree it was refreshing to see Loki falling back to his taunting ways with words. Even if it did mean Steve had to pay the embarrassing price.
Without everyone stepping around eggshells all the time, Loki found being out of his room much more pleasurable. This way, Thor worried less and Loki found himself alone wallowing in mournful misery less than he would if everyone was still treating him like a fragile antique china doll from the first century.
The day of the trial approached and landed on Loki's doorstep. He dressed in some kind of suit that made Steve grimace from the Germany day resemblance, but he agreed Loki looked sharp.
He was escorted into the maxed out capacity court room and sat in front of the barrier of the audience. They rose for the judge, which was a lot for his ago, then set as the readings were presented.
Loki was fine. He was fine. Just take some labored breaths. In. Out. In. Out.
"Pepper Potts, will you approach the stand and be sworn in?"
In. Out. In. Out. In.
"How do you plead?"
"Not Guilty."
