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Warning: N/A

Chapter 6- Guilty

Loki felt the suit light up under his fingers, the power transferring from his own body into the metal. It took more energy from him than he was expecting but that could have just been because of the spell he was still maintaining on Stark's mind. The light in the center of the chest started to glow, and Stark let out a whoop, stumbling around Loki to get his hands on his suit.

"Power at 50%, sir," a British voice said, and Loki jumped, moving away from the suit and just barely containing the hiss from between his teeth. Stark look over at him, seemingly surprised by his reaction, but just raising an eyebrow.

"That's just my AI, Jarvis," Stark said before turning back to his suit. "He can't hurt you."

It wasn't that Loki doubted Stark was telling the truth, it was just that this was one more component that Loki wasn't in control of. One more thing that he need worry about once Stark broke out of his enchantment.

Not that Loki couldn't just cast another spell but was rather the principle of the thing.

"We should probably get moving just in case the Avengers can pick up our signal," Stark said, and he said it so casually Loki almost missed the threat in his words.

"What did you say?"

"Relax," he waved his hand dismissively. "I sent out a fake signal on my phone before I even started working; they'll be somewhere in New Mexico by now." Then he was turning away from Loki as if that was the end of the conversation, picking up the handles of the sleigh they'd been using to drag his suit. He thrust them unceremoniously at Loki, who was still staring. "Here, you can pull this. I'm still sore from yesterday."

"Excuse-," Loki started, but Stark was already talking over him as if he'd said nothing. And that strange warm feeling that had appeared in Loki's chest, the one that felt vaguely like gratitude disappeared.

"Thanks, Reindeer Games," Stark said, winking once before turning and walking past the sign proclaiming them to be in Puckerbrush, Nevada.

"What do you mean there's nothing there," Fury demanded.

"I mean there's nothing here," Steve answered, ignoring Romanoff's look as if she could have answered better. There simply wasn't anything for them to see except a strip of empty desert. "There's no Stark, no Loki, nothing to give off a signal, sir."

"Hmm," Fury answered, and Steve was sure he wasn't imaging how annoyed the other man sounded, but well, it wasn't Steve's fault the director had led them on a wild goose chase. "Loki must have teleported again." There was a beat of silence, and then the telling click as the director switched off his comm. Steve sighed but just turned to Romanoff, lowering his hand from his ear.

"Something doesn't feel right," he said. She raised an eyebrow, her eyes flicking around, but she had that expression on her face that said she was listening to him. "Why would the signal still be broadcasting if Loki had just jumped with Stark again?"

"You think someone set us up?" she asked.

"I don't know," he answered. "It doesn't seem likely, I guess. The only person who'd be able to hack SHIELD's computers like that, and replicate Stark's signature would be…." he trailed off. He didn't like the guy but accusing him of something like that felt like a low blow, especially after how much he'd liked Howard. Sure, Stark was a far fall from the tree, but he was still Howard's son. Besides, Steve couldn't see Fury recruiting him if there was a chance he'd turn.

"Stark," Romanoff finished for him, and he could only nod. "Maybe Loki did his mind trick on him?"

"Yeah, I don't know. Something just doesn't feel right," he hesitated. "And the way Thor's been acting. Have you noticed?"

"Almost like he knows something we don't?"

"You don't think there's a chance he's working with Loki, do you?" Steve asked, and Romanoff just sighed, her lips pursed together so hard Steve didn't know whether to take it as confirmation or denial. He didn't want to accuse Thor of something like betraying them, but then he'd seen the way Thor had looked at Loki.

It had been the same way Steve had looked at Bucky back in the day, and well... Steve didn't know what he would do if Bucky suddenly came back as the enemy.

"We should get back," Romanoff said, and Steve nodded. They turned toward their Quinjet, Steve stepping forward right as Romanoff froze. He turned back to ask her what wrong right as the Quinjet exploded around them, throwing Steve off his feet. He just managed to get his shield up in front of his chest as shrapnel rained down on top of him.

Neither of them had said anything for a long time, which wasn't exactly strange for Loki, but it was strange for Tony. He didn't not talk. It wasn't something he did. Yesterday, he hadn't stopped asking Loki questions as they walked, and today it was if a switch had flipped. A switch that told him to think instead of talk. Usually, he could do both at the same time, but then there was nothing usual about this situation.

That strange itch was still ticking away in the back of his mind, making it hard to think, to concentrate. Besides, the way Loki was still looking at him. He couldn't get over the way Loki had reacted when he'd heard Jarvis; he'd seemed startled, nervous. Tony would have said Loki had never heard Jarvis before but that couldn't be true. How could they be friends when Loki had never spoken to Jarvis before? It simply didn't compute. There was no Tony without Jarvis.

Not, that that sounded weird or anything.

And the longer Tony walked, and Loki stared at the back of his head as if he'd grown as third eye, and he thought, and he ignored the piercing stabbing pain in the back of his skull, the more wrong it felt.

If they were friends, why did Loki seem so surprised by everything Tony did, why did he seem to know nothing about him and vice versa, why did he have no memory beyond finding Loki and Thor together…. and then, and then they'd…

He winced as the stabbing pain shot through his mind again, but he shoved it to the side this time, ignoring and pushing and refusing to acknowledge it, because he knew he was on the brink of something important.

"Stark?" And Loki was suddenly right there, leaning down over him because damn it, how had he not noticed until now that Loki was taller than him. And Tony was looking straight into green eyes, glowing green eyes, power flashing through him, down his body and connecting into his mind, and Loki was somehow inside his mind, touching and meddling, and looking at things he had no fucking right to be looking at.

And anyone who was Tony Stark's friend would have known better than to mess around with his mind.

He could feel Loki push against something in his mind, he could feel the impressions trying to warp back the way the god wanted them to be, but this time Tony refused to let them. His mind was his. How dare Loki try and screw with it? Who did he think he was? Besides, the god of mischief, obviously.

Tony shoved and pushed and was surprised when Loki hesitated. He could feel how the god paused, how he withdrew a fraction from Tony's mind, and then changed direction. And he hated how violated he felt as Loki shifted through his memories and his experiences and his emotions, his touch gentle now.

It probably lasted maybe a minute, but it felt a lot longer than that to Tony. Eventually, Loki stepped out of his mind, returning them both to their bodies. Loki looked calm, composed, completely and utterly unruffled. And Tony felt… wretched.

Before he could process what he was doing, he was raising his fist and bringing it slamming into the god's nose. He felt something crunch under his fingers, and felt a sick sense of satisfaction when Loki's hand raised up to his face to cover his bent and bleeding nose.

"You bastard," he told him.

Loki felt… guilty. It wasn't an emotion he was familiar with. When he was younger and earning himself the title of God of Chaos and Mischief, he'd really never done anything horrible. It had been tricks and play, designed to entertain. And while he knew not everyone was amused, he also knew no one was going to be seriously injured from anything he did.

Even the morally questionable things he'd done—the ones of his own free will—were done for what he considered a good reason. He knew everyone else didn't exactly agree with him, but that didn't exactly mean he would have to care.

Besides, he'd never stuck around to deal with the consequences. And they were uglier than he had ever considered—if he'd ever bothered to—them to be.

Stark was panting in front of him, holding his right hand out as if it hurt, which it probably did. Loki's face wasn't exactly soft. He'd seen the blow coming, but after digging through Stark's mind, he'd figured if the man wanted to punch him, he'd have ever right.

But Loki hadn't realized. He hadn't realized how precious a mind was on Midgard. On Asgard, while Loki certainly valued his privacy, people just didn't consider mind reading an invasion of privacy. Sure, Loki hated what the Other had done to him; he felt used and sick, but Stark had reacted as if Loki had taken away one of his basic rights, and Loki did not understand.

Of course, he had only made it worse by seeking out the answer.

He could remember hundreds of times where Thor and he would share thoughts or feelings, where someone would read a wayward thought. It was one of the things that had made Loki snap and hate them all. He was not even aloud to think how much he hated the attention Thor received, how much he hated how they looked at him, how much he hated how they viewed his magic. But they were allowed to look him in the eyes and think him lesser than them.

"You bastard," Stark said finally. He was still panting, his face contorting with barely contained anger. Loki said nothing. There would be no point in explaining himself or apologizing, Stark would only think him lying. Besides, Loki couldn't deny that he deserved the words the man was about to throw at him. "You don't care a flying fuck about anything but yourself, do you? You really do think all humans are lesser than you, going around, screwing with people's mind as if they don't even matter, as if we're just tools for you to use and then throw away?"

Loki said nothing, merely pressed his fingers a little harder against his nose. It had stopped bleeding by now, but if he wasn't careful it would probably fix itself crooked. Still, he didn't want to fix it in front of Stark. That felt… wrong somehow.

"What were you even going to do with me, huh?" Stark snapped, sounding even angrier at Loki for not speaking. "You just wanted to me to waltz up to SHIELD and get myself arrested for defending you? Because no way they would have just been like 'okay, Tony, of course you're telling the truth and Loki's a good guy after he's killed 80 people.'"

Loki flinched at the reminder. He didn't barely remember killing anyone when the Other had been in control of his mind, but he was sure he had. It would only have been too easy for him.

"Ooh," Stark continued, his eyes narrowing at Loki's flinch. "Don't like being reminded just how vile you are?"

And Loki could only laugh. He could only laugh, because he'd been reminded his whole life how vile, how despicable he was. Even before he'd known he was a frost giant, no one had been hesitant to remind him how little they'd thought of him. He didn't use to believe the words, but how many times could one hear them before they would become true. And how can one be something one hates without knowing they were right all along.

So, he laughed in Stark's face, a loud mocking laugh that he's perfected long before he'd met the mortal. And he'll no doubt use long before the mortal is dead.

"Just get on with it Stark," Loki answered. "Now that you've broken the spell, what are you going to do?"

Stark narrowed his eyes, hatred and anger flashing through him, and Loki could only smile wider. This was so much more familiar then how the man had been behaving. At least now, Loki knew how to respond. At least now, Loki knew how to deal with the dread and disappointment and the pain coiling from his belly.

"We're going back to SHIELD," Stark said. "Jarvis, send a message to Fury telling him where we are."

"Yes, sir," that British voice spoke again. Loki looked back at Stark, his smile faint and amused as Stark stared back at him. He wondered vaguely how Stark thought he'd keep him here if he was determined to get away, but then he'd been the one foolish enough to give the man a working suit.

Stark's eyes blazed, a silent dare for Loki to try something, and Loki decided Stark might just be angry enough to hurt him.