While Happy gets Loki upstairs, Tony takes off toward Bruce's lab. The guy's got all sorts of crazy shit lying around and if he's really lucky…

For a guy as picky as Bruce can get, his cabinets are in an absolutely ridiculous state of disarray. How does the guy find anything in here? Granted, his own workshop is in a constant state of organized chaos, so he probably shouldn't talk… Searching through everything is going to take forever, and they don't have forever, so he asks Jarvis if he knows where things are. To be honest, the if isn't really necessary. Of course Jarvis knows where they are.

Arms full, Tony sprints back upstairs and into his bedroom, where Happy's arranged the god in recovery position.

"Thanks, buddy."

"Anything I can do?"

"Initiate lockdown for this floor. I don't want anyone getting in without my say-so; your job is to make sure they don't. Got it?"

Happy nods and leaves, and a minute later he hears the lockdown procedures kick into gear. Right. Time to get to work.

He's not really a medical professional (at all), so there's some things he's just going to have to count on Loki's body to do itself. Add to that the fact that if he's anything like Thor then the guy's metabolism is absolutely ridiculous, so normal dosages are pointless.

How the hell does he get into these sort of situations? He really needs to reevaluate his life, at this rate.

Okay. Awesome. Plan time.

He sets up an oxygen mask to help his breathing, because it's really the best he can do at this point. All things considered, Loki's crazier than Brittany Spears and probably more likely to eat him than Hannibal Lecter, so he should probably restrain him. He doesn't have adamantium heated right now, though, and anything else will just spook the god and get Tony killed once he escapes. The suit's always an option, but last time Loki saw that he was being shipped off to Asgard for a really fucked-up trial or whatever happened. Dealing with a frightened Asgardian isn't something he has on his to-do list.

They'll just have to take it slow, then. Thankfully—although for what reasons he's got no idea, and it's probably best that way—Bruce had a store of Naloxone in his lab. Gods only know what he would have done otherwise, besides call Fury. With a rough estimation of a dose based on how much it took to get Thor drunk (it was for science, of course, definitely not because he was bored), he injects a bit and sits back to wait. Nothing noticeable changes and he has to remind himself to stay calm. He had gone with what should definitely be a safe dose, so there's room to titrate up and hope he can get a response.

Granted, there's the slight problem that there were two things Loki could have OD'ed on, but he's assuming it was both together. Better safe than sorry, right? If he can't get him at least semi-conscious with the Naloxone, though, he's going to have to call someone. This is a tech building, not a hospital or Oscorp—the sort of respirators they have are the kind to keep people from getting cancer, not to assist breathing, and he's pretty sure there aren't dialysis machines sitting around. He can probably rig up a makeshift IV if he has to, but it won't be pretty.

The next twelve minutes he spends in anxiety while he increases the dose of Naloxone a little at a time. Around the third injection the god's breathing starts to even out a bit, which is reassuring, because he's got better chance of dealing with a morphine overdose than an eszopiclone one. A couple minutes after the sixth, there's a loud thud as Tony jumps back and knocks his chair over, because holy shit the guy can kick.

Loki tries to sit, but only manages to get about an inch off the pillow before that plan fails miserably. The trembling, which had mostly slowed to a stop, starts again with a vengeance and he wheezes painfully. It's not hard to tell when the god starts to panic, although his movements are made sluggish by what must be the sleeping meds. His breaths, while still shallower than normal, quicken to an alarming rate. Tony tries to get closer to calm him, but as soon as he starts to speak he's met with a terrifying amount of aggression. Right. Just gonna wait this out, then.

It's hard to say which scares him more—the part where Loki was dying, or the part now where he decides to live. Within a few minutes the god transforms from practically comatose to a wounded, cornered animal. An animal with really, really sharp cla– Where the hell did that knife come from?

The only reason he manages to duck in time is because the god's reactions are slowed—when he turns to look, the dagger is buried hilt-deep into the wall behind him.

Well shit.

"Loki. Loki, chill out man, it's me. Well, I'm not sure if that helps or not, actually, but I'm not planning on hurting you. Calm down and just try to breathe, because you haven't been doing much of it in the past hour or so."

The god claws at the oxygen mask, tearing it off and crushing it in his grip, and in doing so loses the extra support to his lungs. It leaves him gasping even worse than before, but apparently isn't enough to keep him from lashing out again.

Back in the tunnel, Loki must not have been doing much talking. That might be a good thing, since extended conversations with himself would be a whole new level of crazy, but it means that when he tries to speak now it doesn't do much good—his voice is little more than a rasping croak. Shaking hands claw at the sheets with a death-grip as he moans.

"d-drepa-" he manages before retching. The god shudders and pulls his knees up further. Tightening his hold, he tries again. "komast burt frá mér!" It's a strangled, forced sound, but more than he'd said before. Not that it helps Tony much, since he can't understand a word of it.

"Uh, Jarvis? You happen to know Asgardian?"

"Considering that there is no known record of such a language on Earth, I do not."

Dammit. Of course not.

"But I am able to translate Icelandic."

The voice only serves to startle the god further, who snarls.

"Does that help us?"

"I would not have mentioned it if it did not."

Tony sighs. "Then mind skipping the condescending talk and just telling me what he's saying?"

"d-deyja-…" The Asgardian's speech is slurred, and followed by a pained moan.

"I believe he's making threats to kill you, sir."

Oh.

Yeah.

It's Loki.

He rubs the bridge of his nose, sighs, and looks back at the god shivering on his bed.

"Fantastic."

Loki hardly looks in a state to kill anyone, but the knife in his wall says otherwise. The longer they wait, though, the worse the poisoning's going to get if he OD'ed on the sleeping meds too. So… risk his own life, or find out the hard way if the god's done something remarkably stupid?

Judging from how he's acting, the chances of said stupidity are pretty high. Damn him to hell.

Tearing open a package of activated charcoal, he grabs a glass of water from the bathroom and mixes the powder in. When he gets back, the god's exactly how he left him.

"Loki…" he says quietly, trying to keep from spooking him again. He's still having trouble breathing, which isn't a good sign. Tony sets the glass on the nightstand. God, what do people say to sick people? Bedside manner has never really been a talent of his. At all.

"Hey, man, you look like shit."

Okay, maybe that wasn't fantastic, but he's trying. He's not the sort to say 'it's going to be alright' when it's not a guarantee, because people like that piss him off. Lies aren't exactly comforting.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Loki," he speaks as soothingly as possible, remembering how Pepper had after he'd woken up from surgery, "I'm trying to help." Gingerly he reaches out, ready to jump back if the god lashes out again, and rests a hand on his arm.

Loki flinches, his breath catching in his throat, but thankfully doesn't try to kill him. Score. Tony rubs his arm gently in an attempt to calm him down.

"Think you can sit up for a minute? I need you to drink this, it'll help."

That earns him a confused look. "h-hvað…?"

"Sitting. Up. The thing you do when you drink so you don't spill black stuff over my pretty white sheets."

The god looks up at him blankly.

Really?

"hv- hvers vegna ert þú…"

A pause, and the silence in the room is practically tangible. What happened to Shakespeare? Awkward.

Loki gasps and moans again, reminding Tony of the urgency of the situation, and he sighs. Fine, screw everything. Nobody's dying today.

Somehow his shoelaces have gotten tangled, and he fights with them a few moments before giving up and just pulling his sneakers off without untying them. He can deal with the problem later. Normally, he'd try to find something not covered in dust and dirt before sitting on his bed, but it's already too late considering the fact that the god's spent months in a subway tunnel and the sheets are already a lost cause. One benefit of having a huge bed (among others which aren't currently relevant) is that there's enough room for him to comfortably sit beside the god on his other side, so he carries the glass to the opposite nightstand and climbs in next to him.

"Alright, Blitzen, you listening? I need to get this in you before that shit shuts you down permanently. C'mon, up you go."

Loki remains a silhouette against the bed, curled in on himself from pain, for defense, or both. Tony sighs and tries to indicate that he wants him to sit. To the god's credit, he does seem to try, but for all the strength in his attacks he's still remarkably weak. When it becomes clear that Loki isn't going to be able to manage himself, he helps, and finds him surprisingly cooperative considering his behavior a few minutes ago. A minute or two of struggling sees the pair of them sitting against the headboard, the god leaning on his shoulder for support, and Tony with the glass in one hand attempting to convince the god to drink. Naturally, the stubbornness has reared its head again.

It doesn't make sense at first—he's gotta be thirsty as hell judging from how hard it is for him to talk—but then it clicks.

Asgard. It might be a world of honor and battle, but the way that Thor always inspects his glass before drinking from it suggests that it might not be the case for everyone. Going head-to-head with the god of thunder is pretty much a death wish… but slipping something into his drink could be a quite effective to off the prince.

"It's not poisoned, Loki…" How can he prove that, though, when he can't show by example and drink some himself? There's no good way to get the point across that doesn't require Loki seeing him, or at least speaking basic English.

Just for the record, isn't it a little ironic that he's concerned about poison when he's already poisoned himself? Stupid aliens and their stupid thoughts.

"Jarvis?" Tony pulls out his phone and enters the password. "Can you show me how to say 'Trust me, I'm a friend, I'm trying to help?'" Glowing text flashes across his screen, and he stares.

"What the hell is that? That's not even a letter!" Well, it's worth a try, right? With a very confused look on his face, he attempts, "Traystu mer, egg er viner. Egg er ad rayna ad hujalpa."

Okay, that sounded nothing like the fancy, fluid language Loki had spoken to him back in the café. So much for that plan.

The god's eyes flick up, though, a heartrending expression crossing his features that Tony can't quite decipher. "s-særir…"

Loki's hand is shaking when he takes it in his own, so Tony keeps a hold of the glass along with him while he drinks. The Asgardian barely bats an eye at what he's pretty sure is an awful taste, although a moment later he cries out and would have fallen back onto the mattress were it not for the fact that Tony catches him. The glass looks like it's going to be stained black for the rest of eternity, but thankfully only a little bit went over the side. It'll leave a ring on the nightstand.

He wraps an arm around the god to help support him through the tremors, and Loki has the exact opposite response he did earlier—instead of flinching away, he presses closer into the contact and lets out a pained noise.

"Loki?"

"þurfa lyf, særir það…" the god whimpers, "vinsamlegast gefa mér lyf?"

"Sorry?"

Jarvis finally decides to pipe up and translate, his voice far calmer than either of the men's. "He is asking for medicine, sir."

"I think there's acetaminophen in the medicine cabinet. That doesn't interfere, does it? I don't think so, but I can't remember."

Loki clutches his shirt and looks up desperately. "vinsamlegast, láttu mig hafa lyfið mitt, ég vil sársaukann til að fara í burtu."

"I don't think that's the sort of medicine he's seeking," Jarvis informs him.

"You mean…" Tony's heart sinks. "Fuck. Loki, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?"

*'*'*

soft, comfortable… soft…

no. nonononono, notcold not safe, changed? scFIGHTared, bad, PAIN! danger danger tired danger, no–!

moved? tired… different, loud noise- loud, loud, loudrun run! move, fight, run can't– air, needaircan't–

voi–? voice! person, danger, not safe, movemovemove fi-PAIN-ght! metal, dagger– scared, fight fight FIGHT!

noise, loud– loud voice, not safe, getoffface– a-air, need air, b-breathe, air– fight fight killkillk-PAIN-ill–! sleep…

nononoFIGHTscared–! PAIN PAIN scared–water? Water–! thirstywaterthirstythirs–voice scared PAIN scared tired–

tired, scared– water? water… thirsty– voiPAINce? ScaredscaredSCARED-!

hide run hide PAIN medicine? tired…

scared, voice? cold– sound person voice? confusedCONFUSED scared–

PAIN

perso– person? voice noise medicine person PERSON voice? PERSON MOVE water! waterthirsty water POISON POISON SCARED thirsty…

voice… voice? scare- VOICETALKWORDSWORDSWORDS safe voice water voic– WATER! notwater, not water? thirsPAINty NOTWATER safe voice notwatPAINer PAIN PAIN SCARED PAIN–!

PAIN PAIN PA– person safe SAFE PERSON SAFE SAFE safe pain scared SAFEvoice…

name?

PAINPAIN voiPAINce medicine PAIN PAIN PAIN medicinemedicinemediPAINcine– scaredsafescared voice badvoice scared PAIN–…

voice voice tired PAIN medicine voice pain…

*'*'*

Tony smoothes back the god's sweat-soaked hair, tucking a stray lock back behind his ear. It hurts to see him like this—so broken and defeated. So scared. He's nothing like the terrifying, feral creature that walked through their world in total confidence, not anymore.

Loki keeps the charcoal down for ten minutes at most, and after that it becomes an uphill battle to keep him hydrated and pull what poison's left from his system. It's becoming more and more clear that he overdosed on both the morphine and the sleeping meds, and between the two he's absolutely miserable. Tony ends up finding a pitcher of water to keep on the nightstand so he doesn't have to get up too much, and after a long and arduous one-sided argument manages to convince the Asgardian to take a few ibuprofen in hopes that it will help at least take a bit of the edge off. The unsteadiness and dizziness from the eszopiclone mean that Loki quickly gives up on sitting upright and instead curls up with his head in Tony's lap.

That bit's a little unexpected—once the god seems to accept that he's not a threat, he's suddenly clingy as hell—but once he settles he doesn't act quite as panicked. There still seems to be a language barrier, which is weird, and serves to remind him that Loki really isn't human. Even if Jarvis can interpret most of it from Icelandic and what knowledge remains of Old Norse, it's still not perfect and a lot more difficult than speaking to him directly. It makes him kind of sad, too, after having begun to enjoy hanging out and laughing at people. Fury will so kill him if he ever hears about that. Tony's still not entirely sure how S.H.I.E.L.D.'s doing on that front, or what they'd do with the god if they did manage to get their sticky government fingers on him… the guy's still pretty pissed about Coulson, as in murderous–rage pissed, so it can't be anything fun. Probably nothing compared to Asgard's shit, though. Loki hasn't said much about it, but from what he can see it was pretty fucked up.

Even knowing that Loki can't understand him, he still talks to him—partially to fill the silence, and partially because when he does, Loki relaxes a little. The god stares out into space, thinking god knows what, and he watches Loki wondering how the hell they both got here.

"Hey, Jarvis, put on some music, will you?" He looks down at the man shivering in his lap. "Something classical. With violins."

Pachelbel's Canon in D Major starts to play quietly (in full surround sound, because his room obviously comes with the whole deal), and when the latest bout of retching has subsided Loki tilts his head to look up towards him.

"takk," he whispers with a pained expression, his voice still too unused to make speech comfortable.

"Jarv?"

His AI speaks just loud enough to be heard over the music. "He says thank you, sir."

Tony nods. "No problem."

Not much time passes before the god is heaving again, eyes closed and clawing at the sheets. It's been long enough since the last time he drank that there's nothing to throw up, but it still looks painful. He wishes he had something to tie the Asgardian's hair back with—it's grown quite a bit in the past few months and is more than a little unruly—but it's not something he usually carries and he doesn't want to get up for a little while. It'll be easier to get everything he wants at once, when he figures out what that is.

It's pretty clear by now that whatever happened, this isn't the first time that Loki's taken either of the drugs. This is just the beginning of withdrawal, and it's going to get a hell of a lot worse before it gets better. The first part, when he'd found him after the overdose (and it was only some really incredible luck that had gotten him there in time), he's done before. He's kept people stable until they could get to the hospital. This bit, though? Being here though the detox? That's a new one, and it's horrible to watch. The stories he's heard don't do it justice.

"viltu l-láta mig taka lyf? ég a-all-llt í lagi, þ-þá ..."

Once again, the god is begging for another dose to dull the pain, and it's just as well that he'd reached the end of the bottles. Even if he manages to get up, there's nothing left to take. Tony sure as hell can't go through this twice, and he can't even imagine being Loki right now.

The scariest part is that if things had gone a little differently—if Obadiah hadn't tried to kill him and he hadn't spent three months in a cave inching toward death—he could be Loki right now. Except, if that hadn't happened, he wouldn't have started dating Pepper. He wouldn't have gotten any closer to Rhodey, he never would have met Bruce, and he wouldn't have become part of the Avengers. He wouldn't have ever known Loki as more than some crazy guy who destroyed the city.

And even if he managed to quit before he OD'ed, he'd be doing this alone.

Fuck.

It's hard to say which would be worse—the cave or the detox—but if these are just the early stages then he's going to have to say the detox. At least good things came out of Afghanistan with him.

He might not be the best at bedside manner or making good decisions, but as far as he knows, he's the only guy Loki really has for shit like this.

Responsibility is not his strong suit. This will definitely be interesting, to say the least.

The god's symptoms slowly worsen, and he decides that it's worth getting up this time. Loki whines at the loss of contact, but otherwise doesn't bother moving. In the meantime, Tony collects a couple snacks in case he can keep something down, a jug of Gatorade, new clothes and sheets since he's sweating so badly, and a hair tie of Pepper's that he finds in the bathroom.

"Hey, buddy." It would be infinitely helpful if Loki would start speaking English again, but since that doesn't seem likely he makes due with a terribly-played one-man game of charades. He manages to get to a chair beside the bed (although the eszopiclone's still making him dizzy and unstable), and Tony hands him clothes to change into while he makes the bed. A few minutes later, Loki crawls back onto the bed and he returns with a cool towel to try and provide at least a little semblance of comfort for him.

"Jarvis, can you find an Icelandic movie to listen to? A comedy or something."

The AI offers a few options and he decides on something called Sódóma Reykjavík, which apparently is about some kid trying to find the remote control so his mom can watch TV, which somehow escalates into a liquor smuggler vs. wannabe-mafia-boss showdown. It sounds absolutely ridiculous, and he's got no idea how high the writer must have been to come up with that, but hopefully it's funny to some extent and will help take Loki's mind off his current situation.

Judging from his reactions over the next hour and a half (which alternate between snickering and looking increasingly concerned for the human race), the movie is pretty hilarious and entirely nonsensical. With only the audio playing it's kind of hard to tell, but what matters is that the god isn't bored out of his mind. He, on the other hand, is finally convinced that Loki isn't going to just kick the bucket, and so pulls up holograms of the new StarkPhone design to poke around at. Somewhere around the halfway point Loki starts yawning as his body tries to increase his oxygen intake, which means Tony ends up yawning too. Damn god.

Not long after the movie stops, the god starts fidgeting—partially a compulsive part of the detox, and partially just playing with the sheets out of sheer boredom. Tony figured that would happen eventually, and he's kind of surprised it took this long. Thinking of something for him to do is kind of difficult, since his default responses are all dependent on visuals, but he gets an idea and starts digging through the draws of the nightstand (which is met with much irritated protest as the god's pillow disappears). He comes back with a Rubik's cube and a tube of superglue.

"Right, so this is probably going to be ten times harder than if you could see, but that's probably a good thing if the Lunesta's wearing off." He marks the squares on each side with different symbols so that Loki can feel the difference, lets him get a feel for it, then takes it again, scrambling it in as complicated a manner as he knows how, and hands it back to the god. It doesn't take him long to figure out the point, and the twitching in his hands that Tony's noticed on and off every since they met seems to have stopped for the time being.

The puzzle takes a bit longer than expected to be solved, which he puts down to the effects of the sleeping pills. They seem to be wearing off, but the god's still a little more out of it than he would be if it was just morphine withdrawal. When he finishes, Loki sits up, throws the cube at him, and stretches. To be honest, it's surprising that he hasn't gotten sore already—Tony's legs fell asleep ages ago and his back is killing him. He uses the opportunity to stand up and pace a little, trying to ease the ache.

Loki stares in his direction intently, and it makes his skin crawl.

"ég er orðin leið þig."

Jarvis translates, sounding a little more amused that he really should be. "He says he loathes you, sir."

"Really? After I've been your pillow for– Jarvis, what time is it?"

"A little after midnight. Would you like me to display a clock?"

"Ah… no, probably not. I'll just watch it and think time's crawling along like Pepper's nephew. Anyway, Loki, after I've been your pillow for seven hours? That is a really long time. Especially for us little mortals. I'm hurt."

The god just glares. Tony rolls his eyes and goes on a hunt for something he'll snack on—the saltines had been turned away instantly and the rice he'd made (after overcooking it and having to try again) he'd only eaten a few reluctant bites of. Seriously, he's ridiculously picky.

Don't even ask about his reaction to gatorade.

Remembering their trip to the store, he starts checking ingredients, and just… wow. What the hell is this stuff, anyway? Considering how he eats when he's in the workshop, it's probably better for him than engine grease and antifreeze. Trying to find food for Loki, though, is a nightmare. Everything's got some sort of enriched something or other, which is the only thing in the bread that he could have found issue with earlier. In the end Tony manages to collect applesauce, yogurt, and a couple bananas. Bruce might have something downstairs, but he can find it later.

Turns out the Asgardian was actually pretty hungry, because once he finds something he'll eat it's all Tony can do to keep him from inhaling it.

"meira."

"What?"

Loki scowls and points toward the empty containers. "mat. fá mér meira."

"He wants more food."

"Thanks, Jarv. I don't have any more, though, Loki. Unless you want rice, which you didn't seem to before."

Obviously understanding the lack of food, if not the words themselves, the god glares. It's made slightly less effective by how often he's yawning and the fact that he looks absolutely awful, but still a little scary. With a sigh, Tony goes back out to find something else for him. All that's left is some tea that Pepper bought, but he supposes it's better than nothing. He can make it without destroying anything, too. That's always a bonus.

He returns to find a distinct lack of chaos god. Dammit all. Setting the tea on the nightstand he goes looking, and finds him in the bathroom feeling through the medicine cabinet. It's Tony's turn to glare, and he turns it up to maximum, wishing yet again that the god could see.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? You took a couple bottles' worth of pills already, and you see where it's gotten you. Out. Now." He points back toward the bed for his own benefit, and Loki stalks back to it with a huff. Apparently the sleeping meds really are wearing off, and now the god's decided to be irritating as hell. If they were in the other's position, though, Tony probably would too. Still, he chucks a box of tissues at the god a little harder than normal. It's hardly going to hurt him, but hopefully the message gets through.

He climbs back onto the bed, where Loki's sitting with his back turned and arms crossed.

"I swear to god, if you start throwing a tantrum I'll throw you out the window."

Apparently he's not listening, so Tony whacks him in the head with the towel.

"Don't think that just because you're sick that I won't do it."

"láta mig í friði. ég hata þig."

"Leave me alone, I hate you," Jarvis translates.

Really?

"Okay, yeah, tantrum. How old are you, six?"

Loki pulls his knees up to his chest, hugging them and ignoring him.

"fara í burtu."

"Did you just insult me? That sounded like an insult."

"He said 'go away.' I'm not sure that quite qualifies as an insult, sir."

"Do I look like I speak crazy god? Last time I looked in the mirror, I don't think I did."

Said crazy god just curls in on himself more, and Tony sighs. "Loki…"

"ég finn eins og skít. bara láta mig í friði eða ég skera hendurnar af."

Hey, that's the most the guy's said all night. That's a good sign, isn't it?"

"He says that he feels like shit and if you don't leave him alone he'll cut your hands off."

Oh. Okay. Mixed sign, then. Good that he's acting a little more like himself, and a little scary considering the guy keeps knives up his sleeves. On the plus side, he got Jarvis to swear, which is a lot funnier than it should be. Tony's definitely been in this room too long.

Loki pulls a few of the blankets from the bottom of the bed and curls up underneath them so he's completely out of sight.

Holy shit, the guy's such a kid. And a petulant one at that.

Tony decides to pull up the holograms again before he gets bored enough to do something really stupid that will get him killed by the moody, restless, runny-nosed god.

"Buck it up, Rudolph. I know you're able to. And I swear to whoever matters that if you give up then I'll drag you back from hell to kill you myself. Got it?"

"þegja," comes the muffled voice.

Jarvis pipes up again to let him know the god says to shut up.

He's impossible.

"Loki, stop being an asshole."

No response besides the shivering. After a little while, the silence gets uncomfortable again.

"Come on, I made you tea and everything. Unless you want coffee, because Jarvis makes a mean espresso, but that probably won't be good on your stomach."

The blanket pile shifts slightly. "te og kaffi…?" it asks.

Oh, hey, something that sort of translates! "Well, tea right now, although it's going to get cold at this rate."

Loki sits up, and the blankets and attitude suddenly make a lot more sense when he catches the god wiping away tears. Right… shit's getting worse. He acts like nothing's happened, though, so Tony does the same and nudges his hand with the mug of tea. The god takes it gratefully.

"Takk."

Wait, is he thanking him again? This must be some sort of record or something.

Wrapped up in his cocoon of blankets, Loki sips at the drink with a sigh of relief. Tea is good. Saving that memo for later.

Toward the end he winces, and feels around for a place to put the mug on the nightstand; Tony takes it and sets it down for him. Loki fidgets, unable to get comfortable, then throws the blankets off and sprawls out on the other side of the bed.

"You good?"

The god just shivers and turns over, curling in on himself. After a few minutes, he whispers brokenly, "h-hvers vegna ert þú að gera þetta t-til mín? hvers v-vegna ertu að meiða m-mig?"

"He says–"

Tony sighs. "Can you just send shit to my phone? It'll be ten times easier than having you repeat everything…"

Jarvis agrees, and a written translation appear on his phone screen.

He sort of wishes it hadn't.

Why are you doing this to me? Why are you hurting me?

Is that really what the god thinks is happening? Not completely, considering how he's been acting, but come to think of it—does this sort of thing happen on Asgard? Do people go through withdrawals? Obviously it's possible, since here they are, but that doesn't mean the other planet has drugs that would cause them.

If not, then this must be terrifying for Loki.

"I'm trying to help you, Rudolph. I know it feels like shit now, but you'll thank me later." Seriously, though, what happened to the schmancy English? He could ask Jarvis to translate for him, but every time the computer pipes up Loki flinches away. It's weird, but he doesn't think too much on it since it's not really important right now. What's important is getting the guy through this in as few pieces as possible.

Has he suddenly taken on responsibilities other than shooting repulsor beams at bad guys? Why yes, yes he has. It's a bit out of his usual character, but the whole overdose thing has freaked him out a little.

Okay, maybe a lot.

Loki stands on shaky legs and starts pacing the area he's learned is clear, eyes shut and breathing obviously controlled.

He watches him for a moment, getting concerned. "…Loki?"

The god's head snaps up. "ís."

White letters appear on his screen.

Ice.

"Wait, what?"

"í huga mín-mínum, ísinn er að fá upp í h-huga minn–" He cringes and a whimper slips through his carefully crafted façade.

In my mind. The ice is getting into my mind.

Chaos god say what, now?

"t-takk, bara fá m-mér meira verkjalyf. Þú ert að d-drepa mig, ég þarf þa-það til að hætta…"

Please, just give me more painkillers. You're killing me, I need it to stop…

Tony sighs. "No, Loki."

The god pales noticeably, and flinches back from the words. Does he even want to know? Probably not, actually, now that he thinks about it.

A few minutes later, Loki crawls back onto the bed in exhaustion. Tony finds a new towel and helps wipe the sweat off his brow, and the god closes his eyes for a minute before looking back toward him (well, over his shoulder, he tends to miss a bit) desperately.

"v-vinsamlegast…"

Please…

God, this is painful.

He turns to kneel behind the god, pulling his hair up into a ponytail like Pepper taught (or tried to teach) him. It takes a few tries, but he manages something vaguely resembling one. Hey, it keeps the hair out of his face, so it works. Deciding to take advantage of the time while Loki's not trying to kill or maim him, he rubs his shoulders (another thing Pepper taught him—has he mentioned she's awesome?). The god immediately tenses, a shudder wracking his body, but he leans back into it after a moment.

"er allt mannkyn svo sorglegt og veikburða?"

Tony glances down at his phone and can't help but laugh.

Is all of humankind so pathetically weak?

He hits the god's shoulder jokingly. "Asshole." After that he does stop being so gentle, though, remembering the difference in their strength. "For pete's sake, Loki, relax a bit! I didn't even know it was possible to be this tense. I'd make a joke about a string, but since you wouldn't understand it, it won't be funny."

Slowly—very slowly—the god does start to relax. Definitely not completely, but he goes from breaking-the-laws-of-physics tense to just holy-shit-man-I'm-concerned-for-your-health tense. At least it's some sort of improvement. What surprises him, though, is that Loki becomes noticeably less wary of his every move. So, tea and massages? No, it's tea, massages, classical music, and weird-ass Icelandic comedies. Who'da thunk? Apparently he also likes truffles, too, since he stole one of his back in the coffee shop… unless it was just to spite him. Which is completely possible.

He's anxious, though, and has been for hours—more so now that the drowsiness is starting to wear off. As it does, all the more psychological symptoms are starting to show as his awareness increases. Little things start to frustrate him more, especially how his body is reacting to the sudden lack of morphine, and he jumps at things Tony barely even notice—the heat switching on, an ambulance siren in the distance, a bag of crackers rustling slightly when the bed shifts. It's driving him crazy, and Tony knows it. Sometimes the god will stare out into space and tear up, and others he'll zone out completely. Right now Loki's curled up at the end of the bed, shivering again, and cocooned in blankets.

He whispers something softly, but Jarvis picks it up and sends it wordlessly to Tony's phone.

I'm scared…

Author's Note: Have a little fluff before I break your heart again. Well, not entirely fluff, but it's fluffier than next chapter. Sorry in advance.

Well, not really that sorry; I promise the pain will be worth it.

"Remote Control" ("Sódóma Reykjavík") is actually a real, honest to god movie. That is the actual premise. Not even I can come up with stuff that crazy.
imdb{{DOT}}com/title/tt0108176/