Trick of the Light

Rated T

A/N: I am completely incapable of going any length of time without writing something that makes me want to die a little inside. On a plus: Double updates!

…

Something tore deep inside. Something tore and it burned.
He wanted to scream and cry and hurt, he wanted everyone else to hurt like he did because in their shared pain he would never be alone. He ached. A familiar hollowness buried itself within the confines of his chest and though the feeling was familiar, it was far from welcome. Simultaneously an unbearable heat engulfed him, constantly prickling his tortured skin and scorching irritated eyes. It was maddening. Gnashing his teeth like some sort of wild animal it took the God several long breaths before he felt a little more like himself.
And now he just had to work out where the hell he was and what the hell was happening.
Wherever he was, he was alone. There were others, somewhere, on the periphery of his consciousness but never close enough to see. He heard them though, sometimes. To hell with them. They obviously weren't helping his current situation so why should he waste his time listening to their babbling.

So he was alone.

But that was ok, he could work with that.
He was weak. That was something infinitely more troubling than his lack of companionship. Loki was not used to feeling quite so… inept. It worried him slightly. So he was isolated and weak, this was beginning to sound like one of his nightmares he wondered idly, losing his train of thought again. Damn it all to Hel. Clawing back his momentum, he pushed further with his observations. He also had no idea where he was, so he added lost to the list. He could safely assume however that it was neither Midgard nor Asgard.
Shaking his head in frustration he tried to work his way back to the events leading up to his current predicament. He had been ill. He remembered that much. There had been a conflict of some sort. Something to do with-

Oh.

It was a small 'oh', but with it came all the damning memories of someone that he really shouldn't have been able to forget. The flood gates swung open and a torrent of memories all but drowned him. His friends, his brother, his home, his love.
Tony Stark.
How had he forgotten? The pain in his chest flared again at the mention of the name and he clutched at where his heart was supposed to be with trembling, desperate hands. A small cry escaped his throat, and it took all his might to suppress another.
So; quick recap.

Alone. Weak. Lost. Stark.

He had to get back. But first he needed to know where he was supposed to be getting back from. Gritting his teeth, he raised his hands to his face, counting down the memories that might be of use on his fingers as he named them.
Press Conference. One.
Fought with Stark. Two.
Moped around for a few days and ignored everything Stark related. Three.
Disabled cameras, audio and J.A.R.V.I.S.' access to the bedroom. Four.
Started feeling ill. Five.
Wrote off sickness as nothing. Six.
Too ill to move. Seven.
Realised mistake. Eight.
Wanted Stark back. Nine.
Stark came back. Ten.
… Nothing.

Shit.

So he was still sick? That would explain a lot. He was stuck inside his own subconscious. This was without a doubt, what Stark would refer to as a 'complete mind-fuck', he was certain of it. Still the problem remained: How to get out? Panic simmered beneath his assumed calm exterior. He was weak. If he had his magic he could try to jolt himself back into reality, but every time he tried to focus his energies the green tendrils seemed to slip through his grasping fingers. This was bad. He wished he could scream. He wished someone could hear him.
He wished Tony were here.

" I think I've got it."
"Tony?" Pepper asked, not bothering to mask her concern. It had been four long days since Thor and Tony had spoken by Loki's bedside. The elder God had maintained a constant vigil by his siblings side, never leaving the fading trickster for fear his faint grasp on life should slip further. Tony however had locked himself away in his lab, refusing entry to everyone bar Pepper when she arrived with a meal and a cup of coffee. He had taken to replying to her sparse questioning with incoherent grunts and disinterested waves of his hand, habits he appeared to have picked up from the mischief maker. It infuriated her when Loki did it, that Tony had started doing it too was enough to drive her insane.
"What do you mean you think you've got it? Can you help Loki?" She demanded.
"It's all about magic. He hasn't got enough of it, we know this. We also know that he needs more of it. Thor said it was up to Loki to save himself, but he's wrong. We can do something. We just need something with enough magical potential that can be channelled directly into Loki." Tony rambled, his hands whizzing across various holographs and hastily scrawled notes written across several screens hovering around him.
"What do you need?"
The genius paused, his fingers hesitating over a single line in a complex equation Pepper had no hope of deciphering.
"I think… I thought of his staff at first. It's was filled with magic. Damn near overflowing with the stuff. But it's broken. I'm pretty sure Loki only kept- keeps it around as a reminder. And it's pretty. He likes pretty things. Makes you wonder what he sees in me eh? But no. The staff isn't enough. Thor's hammer, that's a thing too. But I don't think it's magical, not innately. It holds magic, magic is channelled through it, and that could be the catalyst, but it isn't the source. Fuck! We need something bigger, something better. Something… Asgardian." He spewed, pacing around the room, hands running through his hair he looked every inch the mad scientist. It wasn't a good look for him, but he didn't care anymore. "Pepper get Thor down here right now. And I don't want to hear it, because Loki isn't going anywhere. Tell him if he doesn't get down here this very second he'll be the reason that his brother dies."
Pepper nodded, dumbstruck. She often marvelled at how her boss's often completely irrelevant tirades and bouts of verbal diarrhea would lead him to a breakthrough. But she never told him. It was beyond her, and she knew better than to question it, so bowing out of the room quickly she made her way to the medical bay.
She was about to ask Thor to abandon his brother. She refused to do that over the phone.

Tears were spilled, goodbyes were said and she had him. Thor said nothing as they made their way quickly to Stark who was sat cross-legged on a desk sipping a generous helping of scotch when they arrived. Pepper flinched as she felt the heat of Thor's anger at Tony's too nonchalant demeanour.
"What is this? I thought you had answers, man of iron!" The accusatory tone seemed to snap the billionaire from his reverie.
"I do. But I'm going to need your help. Can you get hold of the tesseract?"
Thor folded his arms, a faint scowl gracing his usually placid features.
"My father has it locked away with all the other relics. I doubt I would be permitted to take it. Even for Loki."
"No, you're missing the point." Tony snapped suddenly. "Not take, borrow. Taking only gets you so far, look at what it did to your brother. We just need to have it for a little while, just to give him a jump start. He doesn't even need to touch it. Come on, Thor. If you don't do this he will die. And it'll be on yourhead." The usually collected man yelled, his knuckles whitening as his grip on the tumbler full of scotch tightened painfully. Thor seemed too shocked to respond before sadly shaking his head. He opened his mouth to reply but was cut off abruptly as Tony leapt to his feet. Shattering his drink against the table, shards of glass burying themselves deep within his calloused fingertips, Stark ignored the blood and the stinging sensation the slivers left behind as he rounded on the God.

"Open your fucking eyes Thor! Your brother is dying! He did something monumentally stupid and it could cost him his life. That stupid thing he did by the way? That was saving our lives, he is not the bad guy any more. He doesn't deserve to die like this. He didn't deserve a lot of the things that were done to him and sure as hell deserves a lot more than I can give him. But if it's one thing I can do it's at least give him the chance to try and kill me all over again for being the source of his constant migraine. You have to at least try. Please?" His diatribe ended on a pleading note, and he couldn't care less. If it meant getting down on his knees and begging he would gladly do it.
He was too tired to be proud.
He just wanted his God back, and if that meant grovelling across these supposed Nine Realms then he'd invest in a decent pair of shin pads and get on with it.

"I will try. I promise you that much, Stark." Thor managed meekly before turning to leave.
"Thank you." Tony called after him, and he meant it. Glancing down at his mangled fingers, a fresh wave of pain breaking over him, he slammed his fists down on the desk swiping all the remnants of work from it before collapsing to his knees. Thor had already gone. He wouldn't waste any time, but that didn't stop the God of Thunder from looking back at a friend in the depths of despair and invoking the higher powers that be to look over him. There was so much riding on this, so much riding on him, he thought as he made his way to the roof.
A bitter wind lashed his at his golden hair as he stepped into the pre-dawn. Lifting Mjolnir high above his head, he was about to call to Heimdall when a loud squawking caught his attention. Two large ravens stared at him curiously and Thor couldn't help but smile.
Father was watching over them.
And then the sky parted and he was falling. As he tore through space and time and everything in between he held onto the fleeting hope that maybe everything would work out in the end.

Somewhere far away, on a lonely little planet named both Midgard and Earth respectively, two men screamed for each other. Their desperation amplified by the thin thread of life that one of them clung dearly to. The tragedy was that should one die, it was inevitable the other would quickly follow.

…

Apologies to anyone reading these chapters if you find any grammatical errors or nonsense, I write these usually at about 2 in the a.m. and right now it's three minutes past eight in the morning and I haven't slept yet. So apologies in advance!