HUD: NOT DEAD. I've had to wear a brace for a week or so that really put a damper on my writing. Here's the one-shot that caused me to need to wear the wrist brace lol. SO ENJOY.
There is nothing.
At such a young age, coming to terms with one's identity is easy. The younger the better. As we age, and the world we know isn't as black and white and sweet anymore, that idea becomes a fantasy. A deep seeded fear that we never know who we are, where we came from, where we will end up. We know of ambiguous morality, of right and wrong, but always in the shadow of it all is self doubt. What we see isn't always what it seems.
Nothing. Never.
Fear of never knowing is nearly as crippling as loneliness. To be alone in the search is devastating, to feel like the only soul in all of the tides that think this way. But that is not fate's design. Humans are social creatures, with needs and wants that can only be fulfilled by another. Solitude for some is a preferred ignorance. Those who wish to be alone are those who need the companionship the most - those who fear that need of closeness become desperate to destroy it.
Never. No one.
Religion has been thought to fill the void, to answer at least two of the burning questions. The most important cannot be answered, and thus is overlooked. It is not simple, or kind, because it is not something easily discovered. It takes deep sacrifice and revelation to understand what it means to be yourself. We are each individual and unique, just as the other - a single grain of sand midst an infinite desert, but you are still yourself. There will never be another like you.
No one. I...
Fate decrees it so. Opinions and loyalties may align towards commonalities, but never the same. Inside your own self, you are individual. To the rest, to the eyes of those around, you are you to only those you wish to show. There will be passersby, acquaintances, friends, lovers, family - these will come and go, and though the pain to lose will be harsh and detrimental, there will always be one.
I do not -
One that will be by your side forever. One that will not make you lick your wounds in private. One that will guide you and help you and mould you. One you will fight with, love with, live with. One that will be there, unconditionally, because you are forever bound.
No. For me -
This is so, as has been taught for centuries. You are yourself, alone and unique and imperfect, and that will not change. Once you find yourself, you will find the pieces missing. Once you have your identity, you will find your match. Not before, never before - and once you have, the world will be cast in a newer and clearer light. To be seen and understood as you wish it to be.
For me -
Not before. Learn yourself, and be blessed with fate's choice to your perfect fit.
There is no one. Nothing.
I am alone.
Tony sighed - this was not the way he wanted to spend his afternoon. He had a board meeting that he was missing, which he could care less about but Pepper was already blowing up his phone. Not really much he could do about it, what with his phone being in another room entirely. His smart watch patched through all of his notifications, and JARVIS was insisting he answer her.
Busy, he typed.
With what shall I reply with, Sir? She has become worried.
Tony looked at the other solemn faces in the room and bit back another sigh. I owe somebody a favour.
Tony dropped his palm over his watch face, hiding the screen without waiting for an answer. He adjusted his tie and threw his arm around the top of the waiting chair beside him.
"Any news yet?" No one answered. Tony nodded slowly. He looked at his nails. He resisted tapping his foot, settling instead to scratch the cheap fabric of the chairs. The other two occupants didn't move or react to his nervous twitching, which only made it worse.
Time seemed to pass so slow. Tony knew he had Tetris and Snake on his watch, but dammit if he didn't want to fall to the temptation. The others seemed completely content to wait, even with the awkward and tense air. Tony could deal with awkward questions and stares and off-handed remarks. He did his whole life without trouble. But sitting in the room with his two best friends' parents, without one friend (whom he still couldn't decide was a flake or not, even fifteen years later) was verging on the edge. He didn't do comfort. Tony was almost ready to say fuck it and bail when the waiting room door opened.
"Thor," Frigga breathed. Tony felt himself relax as he watched her rise, going to her eldest son. Frigga had become a second mother to him after his own passed. She was bright and full of light, always smiling and always happy to see him, no matter what.
Well, expect now, but Tony didn't blame her. Even he didn't want to see himself right now, and he had nothing to do with it.
"Mother." Thor was always like that, the held together one. He was strong in build and mind, even if Tony did have to explain a few jokes to him every now and then. "How are you?"
"I do not matter," she breathed, dropping her small hands to Thor's collar. Everyone was small next to Thor, but that was the smallest Tony had ever seen of her - cheeks gaunt, eyes wide, and waist far too trim. It had been a long month for them all. "What of him?"
Thor dropped his hands to her shoulders. Tony didn't like the look in his eyes. Whatever he needed to say was hard. "You should sit."
Frigga nodded after a moment and allowed Thor to guide her back to her seat. He nodded at Tony, the first acknowledgement the billionaire had received since he walked in three hours ago. Tony nodded back and shifted his weight.
The last person in the room, Thor's father, Odin, finally spoke: "To the point, Thor."
Thor's expression still appeared grim. "It...is not well."
Tony knew that. They all knew that. "So nothing new?"
Thor looked over at him, his eyes a stormy navy. "No, Tony. Nothing new."
Tony sat back in his seat, not realizing he was on the edge. He listened to Frigga's soft sobs and Thor's calming voice. It had been like this for weeks, now. Nothing was getting better.
Tony knew there was something wrong when Thor called him to act as a character witness. A witness, for character? Did he even fucking know him? Still, he agreed. They had grown up together, and what happened was tragic at best, so Tony felt his hands were tied.
When Tony was young, he dealt with issues. Abandonment, abuse, bullying - you name it, those were the cards he was dealt. The Durers were always there for him; Odin being the head lawyer to SI Legal put him close to the action, and Frigga not being able to ignore a single being in need. It led to a lot of sleep overs, and Thor was in a few of his classes already. He was the youngest in his entire school, but having Thor have his back made life a bit easier.
In retrospect, Tony knew why Thor had called him. They were too alike.
Tony had his identity crisis young, before the Durers ever met him. It was harsh, and he had been very alone, without even his mother to console him. He had a minor issue every new year he spent alone, but he never admitted to himself what they meant and just shrugged off Pepper's concern. He was Tony Stark, billionaire/philanthropist/playboy/genius - of course he knew who he was. Why his match hadn't turned up yet wasn't his problem.
When he still didn't get a hit, even years after sorting his head out, Tony did some research. The average person found their match within twenty years - he was pushing thirty. Sightings of their match early in life were common - he met new people almost everyday. New people. The odds were astoundingly not in his favour.
Thor didn't know all of his issues, but Tony had a pretty good idea that he had a pretty good idea of what had happened. And, when he was honest, still did.
Tony knew the path he traveled was rough. He balanced on a wire, refusing to allow himself to fall either way. Not into the hope that there was someone out there, just for him, waiting to show up. Not into the despair that there would never be anyone waiting, that he would have to do everything alone for the rest of his life. Was it so bad that he was just tired? He didn't want to be alone, but he didn't need a match that didn't want him.
The ones that gave in to the despair never did find their match. They sought the darker side of life - drugs, alcohol, crime, murder. The saddest were suicides; those souls completely convinced that they were alone in the universe, that no one would be there.
However, Tony knew that wasn't the truth. Each person, upon finding their identity, woke to a new mark. It was small and wholly unique. Tony's sat just under his left clavicle. When he was twenty, he quite literally woke up to it. He was so deliriously happy, running to show Pepper. She showed him hers, on the crook of her elbow, and he marveled at the difference. No two marks would ever be the same, especially when he put science to it.
They were geometrical shapes made from the chemical breakdown of their DNA. Tony took a drop of Pepper's blood to test the theory, and after overlying all the chromosomes with molecular framework made a beautiful image that matched hers exactly. He did the same with his, and came to the same conclusion.
Both were different without a single similarity. Tony drew some of Pepper's husband/match's blood. The images were not a match in the literal sense, but actually fit together like missing puzzle pieces you didn't realize were lost. Without there being words, Tony was curious how they found each other. He'll never forget the look on Pepper's face (joy, contentment, soft, full of love) when she answered: "You just know, Tony. They say something or do something and then the whole world opens. I can't really explain it, but you'll know."
When he laid her mark over Phil Coulson's, it made a rose in full bloom. Tony had been convinced ever since.
Not everyone had his 'optimism', or his resources. Even some of the people closest to him he couldn't help.
Loki Durer was younger than Thor but a year older than Tony. It made sense that they all would hang out together, so Tony became nearly as close to Loki as he did to Thor. Had he known what Loki struggled with, then he could have offered more help. Loki sure as hell didn't know, and even Thor was kept in the dark.
A few months ago, the topic of Loki's adoption was dredged up. Granted, it didn't take a genius to think something didn't quite add up when you stood the family side-by-side - all blond and bright blue eyes. Loki was much darker, almost an inverted form of a photograph. It had never come up before that night, and Tony regretted missing it.
Thor was loud and boisterous and outgoing, everything Tony personified himself as. Loki was quieter, reserved, quick witted, and incredibly intelligent. Tony always loved his talks with Loki, especially since the man was also going into teaching science. He had literally the clearest green eyes Tony had ever seen, and if Tony wasn't nearly borderline obsessed with tracking down his match, he would have asked Loki out. There were several times he deleted a message before he could even send it, too nervous of rejection and simultaneously possibly missing his match. Tony Stark was never so unsure, but the topic of his fate always unnerved him.
When Tony had received the call that Loki had tried to kill himself, he felt like he was falling. He owed it to the Durers to be there for them. He owed it to himself to see Loki, to know for himself that he would be better.
Each week he went back, sitting in the same uncomfortable room with the same grim family. He watched Frigga lose weight and cry herself into stupors as Odin held her. Thor brought cards and a few board games they all played together, but nothing cheered her up. Tony didn't blame her - he would feel guilty, too.
Odin was the worse of them all. He was silent most of the time, not responding to anyone but Frigga, and only because she needed him. As her match, they shared all their grief and pain far beyond what parents endure. It wasn't fair, to feel that way tenfold without the other as a reprieve. It was heartbreaking to watch.
Thor acted as mediator between his parents and brother. He gave status updates and was the only one allowed in Loki's room. After the first week, he was taken off of life support. After the second, he was transferred to a special area of the hospital that dealt with mental instability. A hefty mixture of Odin's law firm and Stark Industries kept everything out of the tabloids. Tony decided it was the least he could do to be there for his adoptive family, when he couldn't be there for his best friend.
He wasn't sure when he started thinking of himself closer to Loki than Thor. It could be a side effect of the idea of not seeing Loki around anymore, or losing their conversations, but he admitted it to himself. Thor was a great guy, and his match was a sweet girl that traveled around the globe for her research. They meet only a few months before Loki's history surfaced, and Thor hadn't needed to call her. She knew, and was back stateside before Tony stepped into the waiting room on the second day.
Tony stretched his legs out casually, feeling his knees pop. Today was long, but not nearly as long as a few of them had been. They were able to secure a private waiting room away from prying eyes, only a hallway down from Loki. He watched Thor mumble something into Frigga's hair, his mother's entire body trembling under his too large hands.
The door to their room opened, revealing a male nurse dressed in pastel green scrubs. He looked around the room, his eyes flashing pity for the broken family, before his gaze rested on Tony several seats away.
"Mr. Stark?" Tony and Thor exchanged a glance before he spoke.
"That's me. What's up?" He suddenly felt on edge; none of the staff spoke to him, ever.
The nurse seemed to hesitate for only a moment. After another glance at Thor, he took a breath. "He wants to see you."
Tony was on his feet in a second. Thor never looked away, but now he had Frigga and Odin's attention as well. She blinked her wide eyes and pushed back from her eldest son. "Why does he want to see Tony?" She asked, turning to the nurse, who shrugged. Tony tried not to take offense.
"We didn't ask," he answered simply, holding the door open for Tony. "Come along, Mr. Stark."
Tony nodded, straightened his tie, and started for the door. "I'll be back." He almost missed Thor's expression, unreadable and deep, as the door shut behind him.
The nurse, 'Jim'- from his name tag, led Tony around a sharp corner and down a short hallway. "Do not make eye contact with any patients," he said, pausing before walking towards another hallway. It was locked behind a door that required a keycard, and Tony could see similar dressed staff walking around through the window.
"Okay," he answered. Jim nodded, swiped his card, and opened the door. Tony was content with him leading the way, keeping his eyes on the tile as they walked. He felt like he did a good job of ignoring the moans and shuffling around him. It was a quick minute before they stopped in front of another door. Tony looked up as Jim held his hand out.
"I'll be nearby," he said, voice low. "There's a call button on the wall, can't miss it. Call if you need me, and send the other nurse out."
"Can we shut the door?" Tony asked. Jim nodded.
"Yeah, tell Cindy to shut it behind her." Tony nodded and entered the room. It was spacious, no doubt because of his and the Durers' influence, and very well lit. There was a large window on the other side of the room that had bars on the outside with the curtains drawn back. It was bittersweet, but the sunlight was nice.
Cindy was sitting with a magazine, flipping the pages lazily. She looked up when he came closer and smiled. "I'll be going, then," she said, as if she were in the middle of a conversation. She seemed pleasant, with her hair drawn back in a bun and her smile framed with laugh lines. Cindy folded her magazine in her hand and waved to Tony's left, where he knew Loki was, before moving easily around him to the door. He didn't even have to ask her to close it.
Once they were alone, Tony could hear the sounds of the room. A steady beeping from the machines he knew Loki was hooked to, the soft classical music playing over a Bluetooth speaker Thor had come in with. There was a soft rustling from behind the privacy curtain, the sound of a page turning and fabric. Tony wanted to walk around to where Cindy had been sitting, but he felt rooted. He knew he needed to see Loki, but he wasn't sure he could.
Taking a deep breath, Tony rounded the distance between himself and the table. The curtain was behind him now, and he wasn't sure why he had been so concerned.
Loki looked the same as ever - no where near as deathly as Thor had described at first, but that was also a month ago. He was clean, obviously on a regular schedule again, and just as calm as before. He hadn't even looked up from his book yet.
The only thing that Tony felt was out of place were the restraints. He was tied to railings on the bed, cuffs wide and almost too loose around his wrists. They needed to be, what with the bandages still wrapping up to the crooks of his elbows, but the purpose was served. He couldn't reach more than a foot off the bed, making it impossible for him to be alone. Or to grab something to do more damage.
"Hey Lokes," Tony said, finally drawing the man's attention. He had to fight back his gasp when their eyes met.
Green, sure, still green, but Loki was not the same person. His eyes were dull and lifeless, hardly catching the bright light from the window. Tony felt like his very being was crumbling from that steady dead gaze. Loki was breathing before him, but he wasn't living. He wasn't Loki.
"Hello Tony," Loki answered, lips quirking in what could have been his usual smirk. "I am glad you were around to come visit."
"I'm always around," Tony answered, trying to brighten his friend's mood. "Like the plague, you just can't get rid of me."
Loki would have laughed at that, before, but now he simply nodded. "This is true. You have been around for as long as I care to remember."
Tony grabbed the chair Cindy had been sitting in and moved it to Loki's side. "Yeah, I know I was a brat."
"Still, not much has changed," Loki answered, and Tony felt more relief than he should for the small attempt at humour.
Tony suddenly felt awkward, unsure what to say. To say he was bothered by Loki's condition was the understatement of the century, but he wasn't sure what to do. With Loki, he always knew what to say. Now, he felt like he was talking to a stranger.
"What do they feed you around here, anyway?" He asked after a moment. Loki shut the book he had been reading and fixed his gaze to the wall across from him.
"Balanced meals with copious amounts of jell-o for a snack," he answered with a soft frown. Tony couldn't help but smile - Loki hated jell-o.
"I bet I could sneak in some Doritos or something from the vending machine if you wanted," Tony teased. Loki huffed, something Tony interpreted as a laugh, as he set aside his book to the mattress.
"Anthony," Loki said, and Tony knew things were turning serious. He only ever called him that when he was angry or had something very important to say. "I need to talk to you."
"Yes?" Tony asked, feeling his throat go dry. He should have known that after not seeing Loki for a month, he would have some serious shit to sort out. "You know I'm here for you, man. Whatever you need."
"I know, and I thank you," Loki answered. He kept his gaze fixed to the far wall. "You were not there, that night. I feel like I need to explain myself."
No, Tony hadn't been there. Pepper was in need of something for the company, so he had to miss the weekly dinner he took with the Durers. Apparently, that was the night shit hit the fan.
"I am adopted," Loki began, tone lifeless. He folded his hands softly over his lap, and Tony couldn't help but feel drawn in by the motion. "That in of itself is not my reason for being here. I am sure you are aware of the connotations of identity and the role it plays in finding your match."
Yes, Tony knew. For six years now, he knew. Each year that passed, he knew. Unwilling to say that, he simply nodded.
"That conversation helped to solidify in my mind, my greatest fear. I am twenty-seven and without a mark, and I did not understand why until then. I was believing lies, never knowing my true self. Everything I thought was me was a lie. How groundbreaking, after nearly three decades, and still not know who you are? It takes you to find yourself, for your match to find you. That is why I am here - I am not meant to be found."
"That's not true!" Tony blurted. He felt his neck burn from his outburst, but he couldn't let that continue. Loki's tone, so lifeless and dull and finite, like to him, the journey was over, and he was fine with it. Tony couldn't let that continue. His best friend couldn't not be around. "That's not true and you know it."
"What can the answer be, then?" Loki asked hollowly, turning his gaze fully to Tony.
"You have always been yourself, Loki. You are what you want to be, who you're meant to be. You're the most amazing person I know, and there's got to be someone out there for you." There's someone for Pepper, for Thor, for him - even him, and if there's someone mad enough out there that matches his mark, then there's someone out there for Loki. "You deserve happiness more than anyone I've ever met. You just need to give it a chance to find you."
"But that is all a lie," Loki hissed, and Tony was glad to see there was some light back in his eyes. Anger wasn't something he wanted to inspire in Loki, but seeing that he could still feel was a relief. "All these years, all these revelations, have been lies. I cannot help but blame this for my fractured mind, for I believed wholeheartedly that I knew myself. Obviously that was a lie as well. There is nothing - "
"Not true," Tony snapped. If there was someone for him, then there was someone for Loki. Beautiful, passionate, mischievous Loki. "There is way more than just something."
"No, Stark!" Loki snapped back, and Tony felt his chest tighten. "There is nothing, no one, for me. Nothing that I can call mine, nothing that is only for me."
"There is," Tony answered. "Look, please." He forced his watch up to Loki's line of sight and swiped through his photos. "This is Pepper's mark. I broke it down from her blood and then matched it. It's literally a geometrical shape of the molecular framework graph from DNA. It folds in on itself, and when I overlapped it to her husband's, they make a picture." He swiped and showed Loki the rose. He suddenly felt desperate - this was why he didn't do (doesn't ever, for Tony always gets too involved) comfort. "See? It's true. This isn't a happy accident. These things are made to happen. You aren't alone, Loki. No one is."
"Tony," he answered, the passion from his voice gone again. He just sounded tired. Loki put his hand over Tony's watch and pushed his arm away. "I understand, that is magnificent. However, the flaw is that I do not have a mark, still."
Tony clenched his fist. "I didn't have a mark until I was twenty. Statistically, people find their match within twenty years. People were already set when I was just getting mine. It's been a tough six years. You need to know you aren't alone. I'm right there beside you."
Loki sighed and dropped his head back to his propped up pillow. Tony reached out and fluffed it slightly. "Tony, you still do not understand. I do not have - "
"Well, have you looked recently?" Tony asked, smoothing down the wrinkles he caused in the pillow. Loki looked over at him, eyes again lifeless, but quirked an eyebrow.
"Seriously?" He drawled.
"Uh, duh. How often do they change these bandages? I get that you can see most of yourself, and I can check your back for you. That's the only grey area." Loki rolled his eyes at Tony's prodding. Eventually he sighed and pushed himself up, using the railing on the bed as leverage. Tony peeked down the collar of his shirt, eyes scanning for the small cluster of thin black lines. "Nothing here, but that's not odd. Less than five percent get their marks on their backs."
"Enough of this, Tony," Loki muttered. Tony pushed him back against the bed and began to fiddle with the loose restraints.
"How do these come - ah! Got it, got it," he mumbled, ignoring the soft noise of protest from Loki. He knew his friend, and he knew Loki didn't really want this. They had talked about this before, as friends who discuss literally everything do, and suicide wasn't something he was a large fan of. To feel like this was his only option proved to Tony exactly how hopeless Loki felt.
Loki didn't protest when Tony's fingers pressed against his wrist. Even over the gauze, Tony could feel the raise of healing flesh, a criss-cross myriad of thin lines. He held Loki's cool hand in his left as he gently unwrapped the gauze. Loki's usual core body temperature was lower than the average, which Tony just found more interesting about the man, but even without the recovery of blood lose, he felt different. Colder than usual. Off.
The gauze was still white and fairly pristine, meaning it had to be changed barely a day ago. Tony unwrapped slowly to not damage it so he could rewrap it without the staff finding out. Loki never looked at him, instead fixating on the wall across, above the table Cindy had sat at. That was fine - Tony could work in silence.
When the gauze was pooled in Loki's lap, Tony attempted to rotate his arm. Loki stopped him, lying the still restrained hand over his. "Please, I - "
"I won't judge you," Tony said softly. "I'll never judge you."
Loki's expression said more than Tony had time in his life to analyze - trepidation, relief, regret, despair, desperation, want - plus countless others that he didn't even register before the other scientist schooled his features back to the shell of a stranger that Tony saw when he walked in. A stranger, wearing Loki's face and eyes and voice but not knowing how to use it against Tony, who had nearly fallen over himself countless times for whatever Loki wanted.
Loki wanted a mark. Loki wanted a match. Loki wanted someone with everything in their world dedicated just to him, and Tony Stark was going to do everything in his power to make that happen.
Tony turned Loki's too thin wrist over in his palm just as the man turned his face. Tony rubbed a soothing circle over the pulse point under his thumb, hoping to coax his friend to look. The lines were just as red and angry as he had imagined, even a month later. Loki had aimed to not be saved, and Tony had to grudgingly admire his attempted thoroughness.
The lines started heavy at his elbow and crossed all the way up under Tony's thumb. They were healing, his flesh raised and slightly inflamed, and Tony felt like an ass. The colour contrast was grotesquely beautiful, red against alabaster; it was something he actually had to stop himself from saying, because he had to remember that he didn't support this at all. But he accepted Loki, for all his faults, and if it was connected to him, however twisted, Tony knew he would find it beautiful.
"You're staring," Loki whispered, eyes still fixated on the wall across. Tony blinked and grinned sheepishly.
"Sorry, it's just..." Don't say it, it isn't beautiful, dammit. He is, but almost losing him isn't. "You were very thorough."
"You know of my joy for symmetry," he answered drily. Yeah, Tony did, and he knew that when he unwrapped the other arm, it would look identical.
"How sensitive is this?" Tony heard himself ask. Loki shrugged.
"I feel it," was all the answer Tony got. So the genius carefully touched the oldest (Loki is right handed, he would start from the bottom and work his way up) near his elbow in the centre. Loki didn't flinch, so he traced each line gently up to his thumb.
Tony Stark wasn't an emotional man by any means. This secret fascination he held for finding his match was the closest he came to actually showing how he felt, and even then it was only to Pepper. When he heard Loki had tried to kill himself and was only minutes away from success, Tony had felt like his entire chest was seizing. He couldn't lose him, but he didn't know why. They were close, sure (the closest), and he was attracted to him, sure (more than any other), but there was an undercurrent that Tony didn't understand. Now, standing here, holding his best friend's flawed arm (flawed, yes, but still him) he finally had an answer.
Tony loved him, and not in the same way he loved Pepper or Thor. Actually was in love with him. In that second, he felt a cruel twist of fate. All this time spent waiting for his match and he fell in love with his best friend, who had no mark. Who, by all laws of fate, couldn't be his.
Tony smiled bitterly, not caring if Loki saw or not. He loved him but could never have him, not like he suddenly wanted. Loki felt unwanted, unloved, and unmatched - yet here stood a man who loved him but would never be able to express it. Six years waiting, and suddenly Tony hated the mark he had felt was so wonderful.
Because it would never match Loki.
Tony dropped his weight to his chair with a loud sigh, never letting go of Loki's wrist. He needed to sit, and drink, and hopefully forget everything.
"Tony?" Loki asked, looking at him for the first time since Tony began unwrapping him. Tony met those dull eyes and grinned wider; he hated himself. Loki's brow furrowed in confusion and his wrist twitched. "What is the matter?"
"Nothing," Tony lied, covering his mouth with his other hand. He wanted to sob, to cry out and destroy the room. He wanted to drive far away from this damn hospital and sit alone, maybe on a beach somewhere, and forget. "You're healing very well."
"Anthony," Loki said sharply. In his voice, he was himself - no nonsense and demanding his attention. Tony had always thought that teaching was a great choice for Loki when he used that tone.
"Yes?" Tony said, very aware that his voice was more of a croak. He rubbed his eyes with his other hand, afraid that if he let go of Loki's wrist he really would bolt.
"What is going on in that mind of yours?" He asked softly. Tony jolted when he felt Loki's fingers fall over his where they were still latched to his wrist. He was holding too tight, but he was afraid of falling if he let go.
"Just how shittily the world works," he mumbled, grinning, moving his hand to look at Loki. God, he was beautiful. Even sitting in the psycho ward of a hospital after trying to kill himself, he was so damn beautiful that it literally hurt Tony to know that he could never be his match. Tony wasn't good enough, not for him. If he were to be honest with himself, he could have already figured that out.
"What do you mean?" Loki asked, as if he had no clue. Tony forgot that he couldn't read his mind sometimes with as in sync as they tended to be. He rose as suddenly as he had sat down and smiled softly, catching Loki's gaze and holding it.
"You have a match, Loki," he started, rubbing circles with his thumb again. "I promise you. You're everything anyone could ever want in a match, you just have to give yourself a chance. You're amazing, witty as hell, the single most intelligent being I've ever met, and you're drop dead gorgeous. You're Loki, nothing more and nothing less. You've been yourself this whole time, and if I can see it, with as dense as I am, then the rest of the world already has. You're just fashionably late."
Tony felt his smile, wide and bright, grow as the heat colouring Loki's neck worked up to his high cheekbones. His friend blinked, eyes wide and finally himself, as his mouth parted into a perfect 'O' of surprise. Yeah, Tony was in love with an idiot that he could never have, but he wasn't about to leave without showing him a little of what he was to him.
Before even speaking, Tony had made up his mind. After today, he would leave the Durers' lives. His feelings were unhealthy, something Loki didn't need as a distraction to finding himself and recovering. Tony would be okay - he'd dealt with his fair share of loss over the years, and whenever his match found him, he'd be fine. Eventually. He'd be fine eventually.
If he told himself that enough, maybe he'd start to believe it.
Seeing Loki like this, in a white hospital shirt that matched his gauze, refusing to meet his gaze with a blush stealing up his cheeks, Tony couldn't help it. He wanted to commit the entire scene to memory, to lock it away somewhere precious and dredge it out when he was feeling his lowest without Loki in his life.
When Tony pressed his lips to the inside of Loki's wrist, replacing his thumb, he felt the man jolt. The spot began to heat beneath his lips as he pushed what emotions he could into the gesture, the contrast of warm and cool body heat buzzing his lips pleasantly. This was his final piece, his parting gift - after today, Loki would be himself and break out of this joint and Tony would cheer him on from wherever in the world he was going to move to. Tony wouldn't believe any less.
"Tony," Loki said, voice low. He didn't pull away, and neither did Tony. It was only a few seconds, but it felt like time stopped. When Tony finally did pull away, he pressed Loki's wrist to his side and threaded his fingers through his hair. It wasn't as soft as he had imagined, and it didn't smell like Loki, but he knew that once he was home he would be himself again, burning those damn sticks of lavender incense that Tony hated admitting he liked.
Tony pressed his lips to his temple quickly, trying not to enjoy himself too much. "I'm heading out, pal. Break out of this place, would you? I'll send Jim in to fix your bandage."
"Tony," Loki pleaded, his tone strangled. Tony ignored it, not wanting to linger even a second. Once he got his phone back, he'd call a moving service and hope they would already have half his shit packed before he even parked his car.
Tony squeezed Loki's shoulder and pressed one last kiss to his temple. "Be yourself, Loki. Show the world what you show me."
He ignored Loki's call, his voice verging on the edge of desperate as Tony pushed his chair back to the table. The sounds of the last remaining restraint rattled wildly, and Tony was glad it would stop Loki from chasing after him.
"Anthony! Stop this, what are you - Tony! Listen to me, you can't - what the hell is wrong with you? Why did you kiss me, Anthony? Anthony!" Tony swallowed and walked quickly to the door. Just a few more feet -
All of Loki's calls ended abruptly just as Tony's hand hit the handle. Something told him to wait, to pause, and when Loki spoke again, he was glad he had:
"Anthony Edward Stark, get back in here," Loki growled. "Get back in here and explain yourself."
Were Tony a stronger man, he would have left and never looked back. When Loki called him back, he felt like his soul was being shredded by the panic in his voice. He sighed and headed back around the curtain to see Loki sitting calmly and holding his exposed wrist up to eye level.
There, midst the crossing red slashes that would have taken him to a place Tony could never reach, was a glisten like ointment on a fresh tattoo. The ink was still settling, entirely unperturbed by the marks beneath it, but Tony felt his breath catch.
It is said that, for those who do not find themselves on their own but with the help of another, their marks will come late in life. They will undergo trials that no normal, sane human can withstand. They have the potential to be lost and never found, to die of a broken heart before it can fully be realized. For those that have the help they need, their love and passion will be unmatched. Those matched together, that literally find themselves in another person perfect for them, live the happiest of lives.
For those, their marks burn upon discovery and are placed where the lips of their match first lie upon their body in true unbridled emotion. For Loki Durer, it is his left wrist, where Tony Stark's lips pressed his goodbye kiss.
Tony found Loki's eyes. He had one eyebrow quirked in that way of his that still stole his breath, even years later, but his eyes shone brightly for the first time in weeks.
"Stark," he began, still holding his wrist up. Tony nodded, eyes glued to the fresh geometrical shapes on Loki's wrist - did I cause that? No way. That was totally all me. "What on earth have you cursed me with?"
"Me," he breathed, grinning. Loki's eyebrow only rose higher. "And you're stuck. I hope you like living in the city."
Loki sighed and looked out the window. He acted aloof, uncaring, as if he weren't signing his life away. Tony knew he was full of shit. "Just as long as there are no bars on the windows."
"Deal."
Loki smiled, then, a private smile, and Tony was glad he had the privy to see it. Those green eyes softened, his lips curved, and it was the most serene Tony had seen him in a while. Like he had been looking for something for a long time and now finally had it.
Later, after Tony helped Loki 'escape', they went to the Durers. Thor and Frigga were overjoyed, and even Odin cracked a smile (which was amazing, because Tony had never even so much as seen him yawn). Pepper took to Loki as well as Tony knew she would, and he settled into Tony's penthouse like he was always suppose to be there. Tony loved it.
When Tony drew Loki's blood and scripted together a print out of his mark, he laid the image over his own and stood back. Together, Pepper and Phil made a blooming rose; for an anniversary gift, Tony printed out Odin and Frigga's symbols and together they made a Greek omega. Thor and Jane's were some strange constellation that Jane explained was worshipped by the Vikings. The best was his and Loki's - a tightly looped infinity knot.
Tony took it to Loki and showed him, pleased, and the other man couldn't stop smiling. He kissed Tony soundly, in that soft way that spoke volumes to his previous yearning and longing finally being answered that still managed to make Tony's knees shake. Each touch was a thank you, each hug a relief, and each kiss a strong reminder of the love they shared.
Tony kissed Loki's mark any chance he could. The angry cuts faded with time to soft white lines, nearly transparent at a glance. Tony didn't care if they stayed as bright and red as before. He loved Loki, all parts of him, even the pieces that tried to take him away. It went without saying, but Tony could confidently say that Loki knew how he felt. And just to be on the safe side, Tony told Loki more than once a day.
Tony Stark thought he knew himself well enough for his match to find him, but turned out he didn't know himself at all until the day he helped Loki. Still - and to the end of their lives - when they told their story, Tony would say that it was Loki who had saved him. Because when he was being honest, it was all wishful thinking; he knew Loki was the one for him long before that day, and it took nearly losing him to push Tony into action. He was just too good at denial.
And Loki was too good at spinning Tony's entire world upside down without even trying.
A/N: Prompt - Soulmates. :) Please don't forget to read Shi-Toyu's, and as always, let me know what you thought!
