A/N: I'm... not sure how I feel about this chapter. I could have gone two ways. I wrote both and chose this one. I'm not sure if I picked right.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Marvel's Thor, Iron Man, Captain America, Incredible Hulk, or Avengers
WARNING: Rating changed to 'M'. Blood and - I can't believe I'm writing this here; I hadn't even started out with that intention but - Self-mutilation.
Conviction
Chapter 7
The wind whipped violently against him as he pressed on into the sky just beginning to lighten with dawn in this part of the world. Coasts became cliffs caked in ice and snow as he glided along them, toward the small dot on his map. He was extremely grateful for the design of the scanners they made. It was a chore getting them to pick up the foreign energy of the Tesseract, but the way they did it allowed them to scan for all sorts of energy as well; so Tony may have taken a few readings of Loki's magic at some point to put into JARVIS' system. He'd been flying for nearly two hours, which meant that Loki had been doing whatever it was he was doing for the same amount of time.
Tony had a couple guesses of what he was going to find.
Loki could be calmly collecting his thoughts and meditating, like he'd caught him doing at night instead of sleeping. He had been drained quite a bit of his magic from the testing of the scanners (No matter how high the god held his chin, Tony knew tired when he saw it) and then went hopping around the world with it. So, maybe, weakened as he must be, Loki just didn't feel comfortable returning to the Tower where Thor would probably coddle the hell out of him.
Option two, and, unfortunately, the most likely one: he was freaking the fuck out. The spiking in his heart rate and short-circuiting of the AC Prototype (It better be in one piece or there will be hell to pay) evidenced this option, as well as the quietness from over his com while he was jumping from place to place freezing the shit out of aliens.
Which, for the record, was pretty sweet, albeit a little disconcerting.
Loki might be having another panic attack of some sort, or he could be completely breaking down (Something that he, regrettably, understands). Clearly this would have been brought on by the 'not magic' that Loki whipped out on the Chitauri. There was really nothing else going on that could have set him off.
Tony mentally prepared himself for the worst as he spun to the side and down the face of the cliff he'd been riding along. There was a figure a short ways away, sitting on the thick ice that spread out over the ocean water from the cliff side. Tony noticed out of the corner of his eye, the temperature reading decreasing as he neared. Where it had been an even seventeen degrees Fahrenheit, it slowly ticked down, just passing below zero as he turned to hover a short distance in front of Loki.
He'll admit to being a little thrown off by what he saw.
The frozen air filled Loki's lungs as he breathed deeply of it, heart thudding rapidly in his chest, sitting with his legs folded lotus across each other (a rather grounding position that pressed his legs to the ice; a position taken for delicate magics or meditation). The water beneath the layer of ice on which he sat was calm, and the air still. Ice and snow covered the high cliff wall behind him. Loki's eyes were shut to all of this, however; rather, he focused inward. He flinched away as his frozen core lashed out when he attempted to force it back into its knot. The ice beneath him thickened slightly and cracked out around him, a spike climbing a short ways up the cliff. The power rushed out over him, searing through his veins marvelously in a way that sent a shudder of pleasure through his frame.
Disgusted and furious he clamped it down as bile rose to his throat. The power had begun molding into him the second he set it free from the tight knot within him. When he'd used the Casket to freeze Heimdall he's only brushed it, leaving it tied up at his center and letting the Casket amplify the little he had taken, and touching the Casket before had seeped just under his skin. This... this was too much. Seven times he tapped the power fully and deeply, allowing his desire for the death of those creatures fuel his resolve as the power swelled with each use. The rush it brought was... terrible, disgusting, revolting. Magnificent. Beautiful. Elating.
He forced his body to stop shaking, beginning, again, the task of herding it back. It reached through his magic, attempting to grasp at the Casket that sat in his pocket of space, and he took firm hold of it, yanking it back. It spread back into him and he took a steady breath, gathering it inward. He splayed his hands on the ice on either side of him, to steady himself further, biting back revulsion at the comforting feeling of it. The power swirling within him bucked against him, slipping from his hold as Loki grappled with it.
Loki lost his grip for a moment, then, as curiosity overcame him. He knew nothing of his natural Jötunn powers. He shut that thought down viciously as soon as it began. He didn't want to know; he had turned to it out of necessity, nothing more. The chill roiled, searing briefly, and sending a shiver of burning, eager pleasure through him, before he tore it down again. He pushed and pushed, but it kept tearing away again and again moving under his skin smoothly, as though it belonged there, and it did not. Firmly, he tugged at Yggdrasil's energies, and tried to force control over his Jötunn blood, using it to cow the frozen thing. He began to weave it into itself, with it writhing and screaming from behind his magic, breath becoming ragged-
"You know you're blue, right?"
Loki's eyes snapped open as the chill within him churned irritably, spreading out through him, all his work undone. He flinched at the light of dawn on the horizon behind the hovering figure of red and gold.
"Stark," He hissed, eyes widening as they darted around the surrounding area.
"Aw, what happened to Anthony?" The mechanized version of Tony's voice said from behind he gold mask, "It was really growing on me."
Loki kept his face straight and took a calming breath, swallowing back a cold jolt at the thought of being seen like this, looking up at Tony. The repulsors kept him a few feet in the air, and about three yards away. Loki couldn't see his face, but his tone suggested no particular reaction to his appearance, though Tony was about as accomplished a liar as he.
"The ice is solid," He said evenly. Tony killed the power to the repulsors and dropped, clearly before JARVIS could warn him.
Loki relished in the savage crack and splash.
"You fucking dick."
"I did not say it was solid enough for three hundred pounds of metal and Stark to drop onto it," Loki said, a smile twisting the corner of his lips, though he hadn't meant it for humor's sake, as Stark clawed at the more solid ice left undisturbed around where he was half-submerged, "Sincerest apologies."
Tony pulled himself out of the hole and flopped down on the thicker ice closer to Loki, the back of his head hitting it with a clang just before Loki's crossed legs. Loki looked down on him, and Tony tilted his head back, slightly.
"Hi," he deadpanned, "Now I'm wet. And it's freezing here. In Norway. In late fall."
Loki raised a hand and summoned a bit of magic, wincing as it tore through the Jötunn power, and staggered. The heat he intended to conjure made steam rise from Tony's suit, but also flickered close to him, held back by the chill within him, causing a green flame to lick at his hand. With a hiss, he drew his hand to his chest, looking down at it. With a start, he saw, around the lightly burned flesh, that his hand bled Æsir pale, and he felt an angry stir of the Jötunn power as it fled from the area.
Of course!
Heat to counter the cold, he thought triumphantly. His smile slipped from his face and he watched in horror as the cobalt blue began to turn back over his skin. No, no, no, no, no! Loki summoned a swell of magic, that protested weakly in its exhaustion, and molded it into fire, making the power humming in his blood hiss and cry angrily. Frantically he cast it up his arm, searing at the flesh there, but his concentration broke as he was grabbed roughly and shaken, the fire dissipating into the air.
"Hey, what the hell is wrong with you?" Tony asked, incredulous and... something else, "Oh, fuck, that's-"
Loki looked down at the burnt tatters of his sleeve, as blood began to seep from deep burns surrounded by pink flesh and he felt it begin to sting agonizingly. It wasn't enough. Loki's mind became more and more panicked and terrified as his pink skin turned to blue once again and the red stains became interwoven with deep blue-green as his blood began to flow of a Jötunn hue. More. Maybe more heat, more fire; that will work. He could not force it back, so he must burn it out, then. He conjured it in his hands only to be furiously shaken by the shoulders, his concentration shattered once more. His wide eyes turned up to meet the glowing bight white-blue and gold of the Iron Man mask.
"Hey, hey, hey! Loki, what are you doing?"
"It won't go away," Loki whispered hoarsely, desperation flooding his every nerve, "I have to make it go away. The fire will make it go away."
Couldn't Tony see that? He had to burn it out. He had to get rid of it. It slithered under his skin, comforting and pleasant, but it lied. It was lying and sweet and gentle. It was sick and monstrous and it lied. Loki raised his burnt arm and tore away Tony's grip, seeing, in terror, that his arm had entirely turned back to blue, pricking at the stinging burn soothingly with its mendacious chill. What was wrong with him? What was wrong with Tony? He had to burn it out; burn all of it out. From his skin, from his blood, from his heart.
Son of no one, brother of no one, blood of monsters. Show them the monster. Show them what they did to you, and your wrath will be glorious. Make them pay. Make him pay. See their lies strewn in blood.
Loki's eyes burned as the poisonous voice seeped out of the dark corners of his mind and he barely saw Tony forming the most ridiculous word that had ever come out of his mouth, horror coloring the tone.
"Why?"
Struck, Loki turned his gaze up at the metal mask that was inches from his own face. Vaguely, he registered surprise that the man in iron (gold-titanium alloy, a distant, drowned out part of his mind corrected) hadn't iced up from the moisture in the air clinging to him, while being so close to the cold that Loki emitted. In the time that these thoughts processed, slower and more sluggish than his mind usually works, Tony's hands slowly found their way to his shoulders again, gentler this time, as if frightened of breaking him with his touch alone. The man knelt in red and gold on one knee in front of him, hands firm and steady, but soft on his shoulders. 'Why?', he had asked.
"Why not?" Loki breathed, hysterical now, eyes wide and anger swelling the power in him, "You see this, do you not?" - He pressed his hand firmly to the ice and beneath it ragged cracks spread out as he scowled - "Of course you do. You're trying to trick me. I have to- I cannot-!"
"Yeah, Loki," Tony said, putting the other knee to the ground and leaning in, "I see it. It just saved lives. You just saved lives with it. And it's... kind of stunning, if I'm being honest, here."
"Stop!" Loki shouted, pushing weakly at Tony's arms, "Stop lying to me! Let go of me!"
His half-exhausted protests were overpowered easily, Tony's metal encased hand reaching up to grasp the back of his neck, steadying him.
"Hey," He said, tone soothing despite its distortion, "It's okay. You're okay."
"If you believe that is truth, then you are a fool!" Loki hissed.
"Tell me what I can do," Tony pleaded, desperation coloring his voice, "Please, just tell me what I can do to help you."
"Nothing," Loki said, voice breaking with a sob, "There is nothing you can do. Leave. Me. Alone!"
A wave of power crashed through him on the last furious world, and he barely registered Tony's surprised grunt as a blast of cold air knocked into him and ice formed around his knees, freezing the metal in place. The grip on the back of his head and shoulder tightened painfully for a moment before relaxing.
"No!" Tony growled.
"Why are you still here?" Loki demanded, eyes beginning to sting as moisture gathered behind them, "Why are you here at all?"
"Please, just calm down," Tony implored, "Please. Just take a deep breath, and relax. Come on," Tony brought both hands to rest on Loki's face, cupping his cheeks gently, but steadily, the blue light from the slits of the mask shining brightly in Loki's wide red eyes, and Loki could almost imagine the darkened, worried expression of Tony's face, "Breathe."
Loki tried. He tried. He sucked in the cold air, and felt it fill his lungs and he wondered briefly how long he'd been holding his breath, but there was too much panic. There was no control (and he needed control as much as he needed the air); nothing but swirling emotions and power that moved too quickly to register or grab onto. Desperate, he reached up with his bloodied and burned hand and grabbed onto Tony's metal shoulder, tight enough to dent into his flesh, drawing a hiss from the mortal and making it spark slightly. Loki's forehead pitched forward and fell against Tony's, the mortal's hands falling back to his shoulders.
"I can't," he whimpered, pitifully, eyes shutting tightly as he grabbed at his magic again through the storm, "I cannot. I cannot force it back. I have to-"
"If you burn yourself again I swear I will blast this ice right out from under us," Tony growled, grip tightening, and Loki lost his hold on his magic in the chaos, so thin was the strand he held on to, "Just calm down."
Words tumbled out, even though he knew that Tony would probably not understand what he was saying. All the desperation that left his arm scored and bleeding fell to sheer hysteria and he could not make a coherent thought.
"I can't hold it!" Loki's words slurred slightly, "I'm trying to grab it, to push it back, but I can't, it slips from my fingers every time. I can't stop it!"
"Then don't!" Tony said, "Just don't. Let it go, Loki. Breathe; stop fighting it, and it'll stop fighting you. It's... it's like the Devil's Snare. Except you probably don't get that reference."
Loki took a deep, ragged, breath, trying to comply, and forcing back all the revulsion at it, arm stinging something fierce He stopped trying to grab for the power or steer it in and it reasserted an even flow under his skin, humming comfortingly instead of rushing to and fro eagerly. Loki flinched, and made to grab it again, because this was not right. As if he could read his thoughts, Tony gave him a rough shake.
"Just let it go, Loki," Tony breathed, as a hand shakily trailed up to rest on the back of his neck, brushing the ends of his hair.
The metal against him was far from soft and shouldn't have been so comforting, but Loki slumped further against the man encased in it, all the same, his head falling with it to rest just under Tony's chin. His own bloody hand, which had been resting in the groove of the sparking and damaged plating on Tony's shoulder, trailed down to rest just beside the arc reactor. His body relaxed and he allowed the chill in his blood to settle soothingly. His senses returned to him, and his thoughts became clearer, as his heart rate, that he now heard thudding in his ears, began to slow. He became distinctly aware, with his far from mortal senses, of the heart beating just as rapidly under his hand, through the cloth and metal that it was protected by. The feel of it further calmed him and Loki breathed deeply again, looking inward.
Gently he directed the power toward his center, tentatively guiding, rather than forcefully grasping. It obeyed him easily, retreating from his skin and following him in. He wrapped it in on itself, allowing the shudder to pass through his frame as his power moved. As it was all pulled in, he tied it off neatly and it beat lowly deep within him, the small knot it once was, that he was blind to all his life.
His eyes opened gleaming green, greeted first by the sight of red trailing slowly down over blue-green stains. He could see his breath in the air and felt the surrounding chill bite at his skin. His hand was splayed over Tony's armor, burns still seeping slightly, thumb and forefinger framing the glowing blue-white circle at its center, heart beating away beneath it, and distressingly pale around the wounds; but there was only relief.
"How did you know?" Loki breathed incredulously.
He more felt than heard Tony breathe a half-hysterical laugh, removing the hand on his shoulder and leaning back slightly. Loki caught himself mourning the loss of pressure, but made no move to stop it. He tilted his head up, pushing lightly with his hand to steadily right himself, and saw Tony finish pulling his helmet from his head. Tony let out a heavy puff of breath, fogging the air, as his cheeks immediately began to redden in the cold, and fixed him with a soft expression. Loki felt calmness begin to suffuse him, and he realized, fully, what just happened.
With shame and horror, he realized that he had broken. After days of careful control. Even that darkness in his mind did little to bother him. He reveled in the way he could put a smile to Thor's face with a few simple words, and was comforted by his isolation. Everything could be forgotten as he worked or teased Tony or meditated at night, keeping his interactions with most people to a minimum. But, now, the heart of the matter reared its ugly head; the thing that it could all me traced back to. The thing that caused him to become so desperate to prove to himself, to Odin, that he was Æsir, equal to his brother, that he nearly killed Thor (Did kill him, a vicious part of him reminded). It was what had made it so easy to give into Thanos and the madness constructed from his fall. It was what led him to let go without the intent to survive.
"Pepper used to-" Tony started but paused briefly, eyes darkening for a second, before starting again, "Pepper used to help me through my own... breakdowns after- well, it doesn't matter. She talked me through it; the less I panicked and tried to force it, the better it got. Maybe I didn't exactly have a blizzard backing me up, but I guessed that the same principle applied."
I do not break, Loki bit back, and things came sharply into focus. It was a lie that even he was not skilled enough to tell. Suddenly, with his mind clear enough and willing enough to think it, something clicked. Emotion. Jötunn powers responded to emotion. The more he panicked the more it skittered around, evading his grasp. The more he fought it, the more it swelled and craved the power and violence of the Casket. When he got angry, it lashed out from him, especially with the ferocity of his malice toward the Chitauri. Loki filed the thoughts away, not exactly for later use – this would never happen again if he could help it – but more to simply have it. Organizing his thoughts was a calming task, and it was nice to hear them in complete sentences after the haze of emotion and panic. Loki's thoughts wearily moved about, pushing away and blocking up everything that just happened.
The cold bit, not unpleasantly, at his warmed skin. He wondered upon that; Odin was gifted with some magics, but to change a person's very nature is perhaps beyond even him. It was remarkable, really. Loki's own innate shape-shifting abilities were obviously at play, though the extent was fascinating. He... hadn't thought about any of this since he was last in Asgard. The 'how' of it all, rather than the 'what' that haunted him. But, now, Tony Stark had seen the 'what'. The man was clearly a master of masking emotion, unless he truly was unsurprised to see that he was a monster in body as well as heart. Though that did not explain the reason for his staying when it was clear that he was unwanted.
Of course, Stark wouldn't really know what it meant, would he? He'd no doubt seen many strange things on Midgard, this must surely not be the most astonishing of it. No, Stark does not understand what it is to be... Jötunn, likely does not even make the connection. And, clearly, the man had decided not to press the issue. Loki decided, tiredly, to be thankful. He was selfish enough for that.
"So," Tony said, turning and sliding on the ice so that he sat next to Loki, leaning back on his elbows, and maybe, just a little bit, in shock, "Norway is pretty cool. Never actually been here, before. Lots of... ice and grassy canyons-"
"Fjords," Loki supplied with little thought.
"Those, too," Tony conceded with a grin, flicking a finger in Loki's direction; his gaze flickered down for a second and turned slightly troubled, "Uh... should we head back? We should probably bandage that."
Odd how it only began to sting when Tony pointed it out. Loki looked down at his arm, turning his palm up and flexing his fingers lightly. The skin pulled painfully, ghostly white painted red and blue around jagged burns that ripped the flesh almost to bone. The cold nipped at it, but he had always been particularly resilient to it, even as he is in this form, and it did nothing to numb the pain. He hadn't the energy to call up healing magics, having exhausted what was left of it causing the damage in the first place. What a charming idea for his panic-ridden mind to conjure.
But that vile power running through him-
Loki could almost recreate the feeling that brought such desperation as to try and burn it out; without panic induced haze. He tore his thoughts from that path. It didn't matter any more. What must Tony think of him? How weak and pathetic he had been, turning his own magic on himself. It ought to be baffling, but he found himself less than surprised at his actions.
"It will heal," Loki said shortly.
In good, Tony Stark fashion, the mortal started babbling like an idiot, somewhat reminiscent of the night that the man had come to him after his brief pull into memories better left forgotten. A little more than relieved that the subject would not be pushed, he allowed himself to be distracted.
"How are you even sitting like that?" Tony asked, gesturing to Loki, who looked over, and folding one leg under him, scraping against the ice, and attempting to place the other on top of it, except, even if he could do that, in the suit or at all, it was only half of what Loki was doing. Loki's lips twitched slightly and then slowly turned up in a smile at Tony's struggle and Tony grinned, "You are seriously flexible, my-ACK!"
Tony's attempts sent him falling backwards sharply and he braced for impact, and, almost instinctively, Loki's hand shot out to stop it. Two fingers hooked on the collar of Stark's suit and yanked him up, his burned hand splaying on the ice between them as he pulled the man up. As Tony's face came just inches from his own, his mouth twisted into a smile, eyes glinting with mirth. He leaned in, tilting his head just so their lips might brush when he spoke.
"Care to find out precisely how flexible, Tony?"
Tony swallowed thickly, and Loki's lips quirked up even more. The man's eyes glazed over and Loki momentarily debated indulging.
Then, he let go.
Tony pitched sideways, metal hitting ice with a dull clack. Momentarily stunned, Tony just lay there, and Loki was confident in his decision that this was the more satisfying option.
"Talk to me, Stark," Fury's voice echoed from Tony's helmet which sat to the side, "What's happening?"
Tony groaned and rolled to his back, seeming to have forgotten about the Director. Loki allowed an amused smile at his response.
"We're good, Nick," Tony said, then glanced over at Loki, something like warning in his eyes, "We're good, right?"
Loki breathed a laugh.
"Yes," He said, "We are."
"See, Nicky? All good. It was just, uh... a little magical mishap. He's just tired."
Well played, Tony Stark, and much obliged, Loki thought wearily.
"Get both your asses back here on the double," Fury growled, "Thor's having a conniption."
"Aw, you went all the way to the tower to make sure we got back okay," Tony crooned mockingly, "How sweet."
"Just get back here, Stark."
Loki felt a rush of sadness at the mention of his brother. He made no move to stand or pull at his magic (Which he thought might be a little angry at him right now, anyway) despite the command. He was not made to be commanded, after all, and certainly not by Nick Fury. He would return when he wished to. Thor would merely have to wait; long enough that when he returned he might be able to offer him some plausible explanation for his flight. Exhaustion, perhaps, as Tony just told Fury. He didn't have the energy to make it all the way back from China. Because that would be the only reason he would not come immediately back to his brother, because he simply couldn't. His magic staggered, shorting out the device Tony had given him and he was gathering his energy when the man came to find him.
He'd go as soon as he could manage to keep all traces of this... event from his face and eyes, and... muster the energy to heal his arm, or at least conceal it. He ignored the sight and feel of the mangled limb as he prodded experimentally at his magic, and it limply caressed back. That may take a little time. He decided that it would be quickest to wait for the energy to teleport and conceal his arm (Though Sif always had something of a sixth sense for his magic, so he would need to avoid her until he could properly deal with it). Shape-shifting would require him to heal the arm fully, lest it simply shift into a burnt wing, and it would take far too long to travel, anyway. There was a shifting beside him and Loki realized that Tony hadn't left yet. He looked over to see the man propped up on one arm looking at Loki with a smile. Loki pulled his best 'What in the Nine Realms are you looking at?' expression; brow raising and eyes narrowing dangerously.
"You called me Tony," He said, lips pulling back into a toothy grin, "I feel so loved right now."
Loki scoffed.
"Is that why you're still here?" He asked, "A name? Your master called you home, should you not go?"
"Pfft, Fury doesn't tell me what to do," Tony said, leaning back and folding his hands behind his head, "You're horrible at being grateful, you know. Besides, how do you plan on getting back? No offense, but you don't look like you're about to get enough mojo to go continent hopping again. I'm your ride, Rudolf, and seeing as I'm not a complete dick like some people; I'm not leaving without you."
"Tony-"
"Ah-ha!" Tony exclaimed, sitting upright and pointing a finger at Loki, "There you go again! This is awesome."
"Anthony."
"Now, you're just trying to hurt me."
"I am not flying back with you," Loki said, rolling his eyes at Tony's behavior, "That is simply a disaster waiting to happen."
"Because the rest of this day has been so fantastic," Tony deadpanned, then shrugged, "We're due some good luck. I won't drop you; scout's honor."
"I somehow doubt that you were ever a boyscout," Loki said, "Regardless, I must wait and heal my arm."
"Already planning how you're going to hide from Thor?"
Loki sighed.
"You know my stance on that matter," He said tiredly, "It has not changed."
"Well, it should," Tony said, eyes hardening on Loki, "I'm not going to go into how Thor deserves to know the truth about what's going on with you, because he loves you a stupid bunch, but how about this: you need him."
"I do not need anyone!" Loki hissed.
"Oh, so I should have just left you here to freak the fuck out?" Tony snapped, "Because it sure seemed like you needed me a few minutes ago."
"I am fine," Loki insisted,
"I don't know how you do it in Asgard," Tony said, reaching out and grabbing the tattered sleeve of Loki's burnt arm, "But, here on Earth, burning your own skin off isn't 'fine'!"
"I-"
"I'm not done!" Tony snapped, and Loki, surprised, fell silent, "Look, I wasn't going to get into this. Because, frankly; it's really none of my business. But, now you're just starting to piss me off. So, we're gonna have a nice long chat, you and I. Because there's a point where it's just enough and my patience isn't as saint-like as Pepper's. But, I'm freezing my face off right now, and my shoulder because someone wrecked my suit, so we're not doing this in fucking Norway."
Without giving Loki a chance to respond or complain, Tony had his helmet back on, shielding his head from the cold, and hooked an arm under Loki's and around his waist before taking off into the sky.
Stabilizing himself with one hand wasn't easy, but Tony managed. Loki didn't struggle, which helped, although Tony's other shoulder was bending a little under his grip, now, too. Tony felt a little bad that it was the burnt arm that was across his shoulder, and thought that maybe he should have been a little gentler in picking the guy up. Loki's face was turned away, and his other arm gripped the collar of his suit with three fingers. JARVIS kept alerting him to magic flickering through his arm, likely in an attempt to heal it, and being unsuccessful.
And that kind of pissed him off. Because it was for the sole purpose of hiding what happened from Thor. It was like... it was like watching someone else use a computer. They're doing everything wrong and using the scroll bar, and it just makes you want to tear your fucking hair out. Except, this was ten times worse because the god's arm was burnt to shreds. He'd been through the self-hate and the torment and the break downs, gotten through it, and Loki wasn't doing it right. So, he was going to get answers. Get to the bottom of it, and try to fix it before something worse happened (And maybe find out what's up with the blue). Just shove the guy out of the seat and do it yourself; saves a lot of trouble.
Tony bit back bile at the thought of the mutilated arm, shock still flooding through him. What the hell? This was... way worse than he thought it might be. He was preparing for a breakdown, not Loki attacking himself, because... because what? Something to do with how he got rid of the Chitauri and turns blue; which Tony kind of doesn't really get, because he kind of saved the day. He was missing something big here, and it was grating on his curiosity in a way that he was almost ashamed of. Tony gripped Loki's waist tightly, and was briefly at a loss of what he could even do. Yeah, he could try and get some answers on what just happened, and try to get him to work on it or for God's sake tell Thor so he could deal with it, but he knew that he couldn't do anything if Loki didn't want him to.
New York was already glittering on the horizon and JARVIS informed him that Loki's heart was starting to beat a little too fast, so Tony, very deliberately, veered away from the direction of Stark Tower.
That wasn't where he was going, anyway.
"I'm keeping your secrets, so you're gonna keep mine, alright?" Tony said loudly against the wind, making Loki's head tilt up slightly. The shift was only seen out of the corner of his eye and he just had to assume that Loki was listening, "Not a word to anyone, capiche?"
There was a brief pause, in which Tony almost decided to flick Loki in the head or something if he didn't respond.
"Very well, Tony," Loki said only just loud enough to hear over the rush of air.
He was too frustrated to revel in the small victory of Loki choosing to call him Tony this time. There was a point. A point that one might realize that they aren't Pepper Potts, and even though Pepper is a very wonderful person and helped him through a lot of shit, everyone has to do things their own way. Tony's way might have a track record of doing more harm than good, but Tony's way was also a lot more satisfying (If not Steve Rogers approved).
Soon enough they were flying between tall buildings as Tony navigated Manhattan, drawing ever closer to their destination. He had no doubt that Loki would taunt him with ruining this surprise just as much as Tony bothered him about telling Thor, but was fairly confident in his ability to keep it to himself. Darting down Fifth Avenue, he stopped abruptly just as he passed 70th and turned to the right, beginning to descend. The green grounds and tall trees surrounding the mansion quickly gave to the wall of the house already folded down to receive him and Tony dropped in.
As soon as his feet his the ground Loki tore away, taking a step to the side. The wall hissed and began to move back into place. Loki's head snapped to look over at it, but otherwise made no move. As the wall moved, Tony looked around the half-finished hangar, and stepped forward onto a small platform. JARVIS spoke cheerily as machinery came up from the floor to pull him from the damaged and bloody suit.
"Welcome home, sir."
"I do not understand what it is you fear I may reveal," Loki said, as the pieces of the suit were pulled into the ground and he was left in his jeans and black wife-beater, "It is your house."
"Do people's houses have hangars with quinjets?" Tony asked, jerking a finger toward the two that sat on the other side of the huge room littered with scaffolding.
"You intend to invite the Avengers to live here instead of your tower," Loki concluded, gesturing lightly with his burnt arm in a way that couldn't not hurt.
"Yeah," Tony said, "Tower's great, but it was never meant to house all of us. I don't really play well with others, and I hadn't really intended to try when I built it."
"This is where you choose to interrogate me about things you have admitted to being none of your business, then?" Loki said evenly, folding his arms over his chest without even a flinch at brushing and putting pressure on his injury.
Tony leveled him a long look, before gesturing Loki to follow with a sigh and moving to run a hand through his hair. Tony felt uneasy at the sight of Loki's self-inflicted injury, though couldn't imagine that it might be worse than whatever unease Loki was feeling right now. He couldn't help but think 'Yeah, I've been there'. He thought that a lot about Loki. Maybe he'd never actually taken a sharp object (or blow torch) to his flesh before, but he'd been just as...
Let's say self-destructive. It's something he could freely admit. He wasn't exactly his own biggest fan in those days. Though he still indulged in alcohol from time to time, it wasn't the problem it once was (mostly). There were days that he just couldn't stand the face in the mirror, and drinking and sex drowned it. Okay, so, maybe drowning wasn't a good thing. He never actually dealt with things; he just swept them under the rug and pretended that they weren't there. He knew what it was to hate the skin he wore.
And Loki just happened to hate his enough to go into a panic and try and burn it off. The thought made Tony feel just a little sick. No matter how he might understand a mindset like that... it was horribly shocking and, for some reason, infuriating. Especially for it to be someone like Loki; a proclaimed god, that's kind of been living up to that, who Tony had come to find relished in control and didn't take well to losing it. He wondered what Loki himself thought of it all right now.
He didn't know exactly what just happened, but he knew the feelings playing across Loki's face and the fear in those red eyes that Tony, maybe just sort of, can't help but find rather stunning.
"Well, it's better than Norway," Tony said, a little coldly, as he walked across the expansive hangar, two sets of echoing footsteps the only evidence that Loki was following, "And I imagine that you think it's better than back at the Tower."
There was no response, but Loki continued to follow him toward the elevator. He spun around just as Loki moved to his side, doing the same.
"Basement, JARVIS," He said, "And run some warm water."
The elevator lurched to a start, and Tony ignored Loki's curious glance. The ride was tense and silent, and Tony was under no illusion that Loki was here for any other reason than that he didn't have the energy to poof away. Tony was relieved when the elevator stopped and the doors slid open. He took a sharp left immediately out of the elevator and placed a hand on a scanner on the wall next to the door just there. The door opened and Tony stepped in, turning back to find that Loki hadn't budged from just outside the elevator. Tony rolled his eyes.
"Do you want me to help you with that, or not?" Tony said, pointing at Loki's arm.
"I said that it will heal," Loki said, but walked after him anyway.
Tony snorted as he turned to walk into the med room, the decontamination airlock was unfinished, so he just walked right in, going immediately to the cabinets with bandages and cloth and antiseptic.
"You realize it's still bleeding, right?" Tony said as he grabbed the filled basin of water from the sink and walked over to the table, cradling the rest of the supplies in his other arm.
Loki glanced down at his arm, seeming a little surprised that it was, indeed, bleeding slightly, after how he had irritated it. And, gods, every time Tony looked at that arm it sent him reeling. Tony gestured to the table and put a cloth in the basin as Loki obliged, sitting up on it. He stuck his arm toward Tony, head tilted away petulantly and Tony rolled his eyes. Steeling his nerves he picked up the wet cloth and gently took hold of Loki's wrist, eyes darting up to see if Loki flinched. He didn't.
"So, excuse me if I don't get it," Tony started, beginning to dab around the burns, cleaning away the dried blood, "But, you're the hero today. You beat the bad guys, saved lives, thwarted the evil plot, blah, blah, blah. Why..."
This.
"I did not save any lives today," Loki said coldly, "All that power does is take and kill and betray. It is-"
Loki choked on his words.
"Bullshit," Tony said, and Loki looked up at him in surprise, "You're here, helping us; defending a world that isn't yours against a force that you admit to fearing. That's noble almost to a fault. And, this, all while you're trying to keep your own cool about the shit-storm that is your mental stability. Which you should tell your brother about – hey, don't glare; I'm just saying. And, okay, apparently you can freeze small armies to death. Good to know. And, it turns you blue. But, what do you think they were planning? A tea party? We know why they're here; you brought us that, remember? Those things were going to kill people, Loki, and you stopped them."
Loki chuckled bitterly in a way that made Tony just a little uneasy. Because, that was a laugh that said 'Oh, Anthony, how wrong you are'.
"Oh, and what do you think, then?" Tony asked, and maybe, just a little, relishing in the surprised hiss as he dabbed antiseptic on the burns, "Because I'd really like to know why you freaked out. Okay, it's obvious you didn't know how to control it, but that's no reason to go trying to- to do this!"
He gestured to the arm as he let go of it to grab the bandages after wiping Loki's blood (Loki's blood; for some reason that was so wrong in so many ways) off of his hand. His own shoulder ached slightly and he rolled it as Loki sat silent, not responding.
"I am not here to answer your inane questions about things you do not understand," Loki said after a long moment, and Tony began to wrap his arm.
"Make me understand," Tony said, pulling maybe a little too tight, but Loki didn't respond this time, "Because, I'll be honest here; you've got me a little freaked out and more than a little worried."
"You are curious, Anthony," Loki said darkly, lips twisting up in a cold and cruel looking smile, "Your mind aches to know. Do not hide behind false care."
Indignation surged up. Okay, maybe there was a little curiosity, but the god just had a breakdown complete with self-mutilation; he was worried. He wanted to help; what was the point of a second chance if he just screwed it up? Tony wanted this to end in a good place, because it's started out pretty well so far. He's rooting for Loki here. Not whatever it is in his head that led him to this. And Tony knew what the center of something looked like, and this was kind of looking like the center of Loki's problems. And here Loki was trying to-
Hey.
Hey!
"Don't you 'Absorb and Deflect' me!" Tony snapped, tugging on the bandage he'd not finished wrapping around Loki's forearm, "I practically invented that. It's mine and you can't use it."
Loki remained silent, eyes glinting darkly before looking away.
"Oh, so you're just not going to say anything, huh?" Tony sneered, "That's real mature. Fine; I'll just ask Thor when we get back-"
Loki snatched his arm away, standing and reaching his other up in a flash. Suddenly it all stopped; Loki froze, hand poised to grab hold of Tony's throat, eyes wide and shocked. To his credit, Tony had managed not to flinch. His eyes flickered down to the hand not an inch from his neck, then back to Loki's face and he could see the shame as it began to flood his features. Loki's hand slowly lowered and Tony found himself letting out a breath he hadn't known that he held. Loki looked at him with guilt for a second before turning his head away, lifting his arm to finish bandaging it himself.
Silence stretched for a long moment, in which Tony watched warily.
"Jötunn," Loki said quietly.
Ladies and gentlemen; the Tony Stark method (Not Steve Rogers approved).
Poke at it until it gives you what you want.
And maybe, very nearly chokes the life out of you.
"By blood, I am Jötunn," Loki continued tiredly, finishing wrapping his arm and holding it back out for Tony to tape it off, "Frost Giant. The power I used today is that of my... kin."
The word looked and sounded like it left a bad taste in his mouth, and as Tony taped the bandage and began to wrap his hand, he asked the question that burned to the surface at the sound of it.
"And what does Jötunn mean to you?"
Loki fixed him with a weary and haunted look, eyes dull and defeated.
"Monster."
There was nothing but silence to follow, because Tony made his decision then and there. Tony stepped back into his suit, cleaned and pieces replaced by JARVIS, flying them back to the Tower, in the pale light of dawn, and let Loki conceal his arm with the little magic he could muster. As if he might have been able to stop him, Loki thought. He smiled for Thor and avoided Sif and maybe the Black Widow was looking at him a little strangely, too. Barton was vocally suspicious. Tony gave him long sad looks that no one else seemed to notice and he retired to his room, despite Fury's insistence for a meeting.
Too exhausted to do anything else, he slept.
But it was not kind.
He woke, gasping for air, instantly assaulted by a comforting, engulfing pressure around his body.
"I have you, brother."
"Thor?" Loki whispered, as his eyes adjusted and he tilted his head to the side. In the darkness he could see the hulking figure of his brother lying beside him, arm cast protectively over him.
"Your smile spoke lies, Loki," Thor said quietly, arm tightening around his brother, drawing him close, "We will speak when you wake. Rest well, brother; you are tired."
Loki slept well for the first time in over a year.
Walking away from the door, Tony regretted nothing, because, in the end, he hadn't even said a word to Thor.
A/N: Like I said, I don't know how I feel about this. I think it ended up too dark, and I couldn't handle it properly. I don't have any experience with that type of thing. My other option was that all was pretty much under control and Loki was just calming himself down a little. There was no issue with the powers, there was some snarking between him and Tony, but as soon as he'd let go of the Casket, the big blue faded, instead of staying, because of how much he'd let it go. Then, meeting, planning, and continuation of plot.
This happened entirely by accident. Please let me know if you think it was too much. If enough people don't like it, because of how uneasy I am about it; I will debate going with option 2 and reworking this.
EDIT: This chapter has been up for *checks clock* less than six hours, and already over ten people are insisting that it's great the way it is. Thanks so much for that, I was really nervous that I wasn't up to the task of this chapter. You've all eased my worries, and I've read through it all again and I DO like it the way it is. Thank you.
Also, I drew a picture for this chapter:
cherry-top . deviantart # / d55ouc3
Remove spaces =)
