Chapter XXI–Cats Find Their Way

Angel of gladness, so you know of anguish,

Shame, of troubles, sobs, and of remorse,

And the vague terrors of those awful nights

That squeeze the heart like paper in a ball?

Angel of gladness, do you know of pain?

~Baudelaire, Reversibility

Tony Stark was not prone to gawking, but no matter how much he would deny it later, his jaw hung somewhere at the level of his knees.

"Loki!" he exhaled. "Loki saved you? Why did Loki save you? Even better, why was he there when you—no, why were you there, wait are you running from him, has he hurt you? Those bruises, was he trying to kill you? Threatening you?"

"Stark"— she managed to give him the Look, although she was clearly distressed—"shut up."

He frowned. "I don't like this one bit."

"Stark. Silence. Please."

She looked so, so tired at the moment. Exhausted.

"You haven't been sleeping," he noted. She nodded.

"No. I haven't." One wet hand ruffled her tresses. A puddle was beginning to form at her feet.

"You're running my floor."

She glared, eyebrows forming two furious lines. "It's fucking water, Stark!" she snapped. "Just. Water! And I'm sorry you pulled me in, I'm obviously unwanted! Enjoy the rest of your worry-free morning!"

She turned on her heels like a storm, wet strands flying for a blink of an eye before they hit her shoulders.

A small voice in the back of Tony's head congratulated him with malicious sarcasm. A back of a woman leaving was not a new sight for him. This was different, though, and he knew it. Bullshiting was his defence mechanism. Afterthoughts about what kind of message he was sending to people came later.

He blinked, something clicked, and he was suddenly absolutely positive that Rebecca's back was not the last part of her he ever wanted to see. Not because she had knowledge about him that could potentially bring him to the ground if she told it the way other leeches liked it to be told. He didn't even know why. Saying he was a man with conscience was too cliché and not enough Tony Stark. Blame it on curiosity, that would have to be a good enough answer.

He ran after her and grabbed her arm, the pull making her turn around. Tony was drenched in a second, but he didn't care much. Rebecca's eyes were overflowed with tears.

Stupid, stupid teary eyes. Always made him realise he'd been a jerk.

"Sorry," he said with an apologetic tilt of his head. "My tongue tends to get the best of me. Let's go in and dry up, and I promise I'll listen and we'll fix this, okay?"

He might have thought her eyes huge in some attractive way if it weren't for Pepper. Her eyes … Well.

Rebecca followed him without a word, patiently waiting while Tony went to get changed, bring towels and some clothes Pepper had here for emergency cases. He was sure she wouldn't mind his lending them to the other woman.

"You go in there and change"—he ushered her into the living room—"and call me when you're done."

He spent the next few minutes pacing up and down the hall. A voice in the back of his head was telling him he was about to be pulled into a giant mess, but then again, he'd already been. Tony needed to find Loki, Rebecca had information about him. That was the simple part. How the situation had come to be …

He rubbed his eyes, not to chase away clinging pieces to sleep—they were long gone—simply, because it gave him something to do, and perhaps made it a tiny little bit easier to think, or maybe that was just habit speaking.

Rebecca called him quietly. She looked small, curled up at the end of a sofa like that, and strange in jeans and a white shirt he was used to seeing on Pepper. She'd wrapped a towel around her head. The circle of bruises on her neck was unsettling Tony. They had to be Loki's work.

"Okay." He sat down opposite to her. "I'm listening."

Rebecca's lips trembled as she took a breath. "I … I think he's dying. And, and I can't let him die, because he saved me and … and … But I don't know what to do, or, or, or … I need—I … I know he did bad things, but I didn't know where else to go, and I just can't stand the thought of him dying on my couch, and …"

Words caught in her throat, she breathed in, and lifted her gaze to Tony's. "He didn't do anything to me. And he did save my life."

"It would seem so …" It was hard to accept it at face value. "Why'd he do that?"

"Cause I'… ve done something nice for him."

"And you've done that because?"

"I owed him."

"For something he'd done for you because he'd owed you?"

She nodded. Tony thought they had, perhaps, the same thing going through their minds: what the hell had she got herself into?

"What about the nightmares?"

Rebecca diverted her eyes. Her fingers were clutching the edge of the nearest pillow. "I deserved that."

"Ookay …"

"Before you ask," –she swung one leg over the other—"yeah, the bruises are his doing."

She had to know he was going to try to speak up, because she pinned him down with a hard look that demanded he sit and listen.

"He's been delirious for the last day and a half. Though … he was closer to unconscious when I left. Can you"—she twisted her lip between her teeth—"help him? And maybe … not hand him over? Just … Dunno, let him heal and then go back to hunting? 's not fair if you capture him now …"

Tony sighed. His sense of honour was bound to agree with her. His desire to end the whole thing did not like the idea one bit. He stood somewhere in the middle.

Running a hand through his hair didn't help. Pity.

"Let's get a car, I'm coming with you. You can tell me what you know on the way, and then we'll see."

"But you can't promise not to let SHIELD have him."

Not a question. There was no point in denying.

"No. Not right now, I can't. Jarvis, if somebody asks, I have personal business to see to. Not that they'll call, it's not even morning yet. How can you be up at this inhuman hour, Blue Jay?"

"I haven't gone to sleep," Rebecca said bitterly, following him to the garage.

He swallowed a reply. Saying he looked better after a sleepless night than she did was a bit too sarcastic for the situation. He chose a car instead, got in, started it. It had been a while since he'd been driving through the city by himself.

Rebecca was curled on her seat, elbow resting where the window began. She was tracing her lips with a finger, not biting them for once.

"Well? I'm all ears."

They encountered the first traffic lights. Red, naturally.

"He appeared at my place, like, two days ago. Out of blue. Said he needed a place to stay. I figured he was ill. He got fever, he wouldn't eat, said he'd throw it up. He ended up retching blood, though."

Red turned green, Tony stepped on the pedal. "Go on?"

"Um, his fever refused to drop. Turned into delirium like a day and a half ago, I think. He'd never told me what was wrong, but he hadn't seemed too worried. Maybe gods are supposed to heal from much worse stuff than us? Dunno. But he looked like hell when I left. I really don't want him to die there."

"I'm not a doctor, you know."

"Yeah. But you're supposed to be smart. And Banner's a doctor. "

"True." Tony sighed. Bruce wasn't going to be happy about this. At all. Except, maybe, that small part of him that wanted to explore the god's anatomy and blood and whatnot. Otherwise, he'd probably be fine with Loki dying, too. Tony knew he wouldn't mind. Too much. But Rebecca would. That was interesting. Not the easiest thing to understand, but interesting. Owing favours, huh? And Loki had, it seemed, returned them. Now, that could work. If Bruce saved his life, Loki would owe him a favour …

Useful.

"He won't be too happy about this," was all he said.

"'m not either." Then she laughed. A short, distressed, sharp-as-glass laugh. "This is crazy. All of this's crazy."

Tony shrugged. "You might want to adapt your definition of crazy. Helps to keep you sane."

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess. 's still a mess."

He saw her bury her face into her hands with the corner of his eye.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was muffled by her hands. "I'm sorry."

"For?" Tony turned the steering wheel. She looked up.

"You hate Loki. He tried to destroy Manhattan."

"Actually, he stole the Tesseract and wanted to rule Earth. He killed agent Coulson, threw me out of a window, and he can keep up with my bantering."

If she didn't understand half of it (and she couldn't possibly), she didn't show it.

"So, you hate him," she deadpanned.

Tony shrugged. "Mostly, I just want to see the whole affair finished. And I really don't like him. But …"

Loki was clever, a quality Tony appreciated. Loki was crazy; not so much Tony's thing, but some said Tony Stark was nuts, too. And the glimpses of the god he'd caught … They could have been glimpses of himself. "I dislike him," he concluded, then glanced at the GPS to see where to turn next.

There was silence from his right side.

"Thor's his brother, right?" Rebecca asked eventually.

"Depends." He rummaged through his pocket. "Gum?"

"No thanks. Depends how?"

"Loki's adopted."

"Hm."

Then she said no more until they reached the building. They way she led him up, unlocked the door, pushed it closed again, it all showed she'd done it a thousands of times before. Probably not in somebody else's clothes, nor heading straight for the unfolded sofa bed. Tony followed.

Loki was lying on his back under what looked like a dozen of blankets. If not for the slightest rising and falling of his chest, he might have been dead. His skin was ashen, a trail of blood leading from the corner of his mouth, more crimson staining the sheets. A compress was lying on his forehead.

"He's sleeping?"

"More likely out," Rebecca answered quietly. "Might be the painkillers. They always make me sleepy. Annoying to no end, really. 'm guessing fever, though."

She crouched, pushing strands of hair away from Loki's face. Something about the scene nudged Tony in a way he couldn't explain. A sleeping criminal looking worse than Death, and a young woman, kneeling, brushing his hair. Affectionate gestures and Loki had never fit together in his mind before. Well … He stored the thoughts for later. Now, he just watched Rebecca shake Loki softly.

"Hey," she muttered. "Loki, hey. You hear me? Wake up, can you do that? I need you to wake up. Loki."

But he didn't respond. Rebecca straightened again.

"I'll go change. Can you wake him up?"

"Yeah, I don't think that's such a …" She was already gone, and Tony finished in silence, "… good idea."

Okay, great. He was so not going to wake Loki. It probably wouldn't gain a positive reaction from the said god. So, he stood there, letting his eyes wander around the room.

Luckily, Rebecca didn't leave him waiting too long. She reappeared in washed out jeans and a light blue T-shirt with some futuristic silver patterns on it.

"You're not helping." She pouted and kneeled down beside the couch. Well, what had she been expecting? It hadn't been more than ten minutes ago that she'd concluded Tony hated Loki.

She shook the latter's shoulder carefully.

"Loki."

She cared.

"Loki, hey. Wake up."

She had to shake him once more before his eyelids fluttered and green appeared through the slits. Not angry or manic, this time.

"It's okay." Her voice was ridiculously soft, as if she were talking to a child. From the way Loki stared at her, it was impossible to tell whether he registered the meaning of her words, at all. His lips moved, though, forming something that sounded like "whispers".

Rebecca frowned. "Stark's here," she went on. "He'll help you, okay? They won't lock you up or anything."

He nodded before turning his head enough to lay his eyes on Tony. They were feverish, and the billionaire suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

"Bruce'll patch you up," he offered.

Loki didn't respond. His gaze returned to Rebecca, brow furrowing a little. "You speak like the whispers," he said weakly.

"Yeah." She smiles sadly. "I guess I do."

"Please tell me that was not an inside joke."

"Don't worry, Stark." Rebecca took the compress off Loki's forehead. "There is nothing funny about it. To be honest"—she stood up, closing the distance between them—"I'm not completely sure what it's supposed to mean, either."

And that was somehow relieving, because helping an ill criminal could still be acceptable, but having inside jokes with the said criminal? Well, he'd have to work on that concept. Or, adapt his definition of crazy. Yeah, probably that, seeing as he actually had an inside joke with Loki. Oh, great.

"You'll have to move." She was talking to Loki again. "We'll help. Right?"

The look she threw Tony allowed no objection. An excellent copy of Pepper. Oh, Pepper was going to just love this, too!

"Right."

He still let Rebecca help the god sit up first. She pushed away the blankets, which left Loki shivering, so she wrapped one around his shoulders again, doing everything carefully. Placing one of Loki's arms over her shoulders, she gestured Tony to do the same on the other side, and they slowly helped him up. Loki was practically hanging on them, anyway. Tony noticed him blink furiously as if trying to focus. He could feel the shaking of his body, now. Unnerving.

A snail would probably proceed faster. Tony was just about to protest when a violent coughing fit tore through Loki, causing him to double over and end on the floor. Blood fell out of his mouth like spring rain onto a thirsty soil, and Loki somehow managed to let out a pained moan amid all the coughing. He was a miserable sight to behold, and Tony suddenly found his conscience and sympathy for the guy. Well, he did have a habit of stumbling over things he wasn't expecting to find.

Rebecca was suddenly gone for a moment, returning with a plastic water bottle she opened and offered to Loki. He didn't respond. His eyes were on the floor, distant, glazed over. He muttered something under his breath, but the words were too quiet and too incoherent to understand. A deep wrinkle had taken root on Rebecca's forehead.

"Can you carry him?" she asked Tony.

"Oh joy. I've always wanted to do that."

Still, he wrapped the blanked around the god anew and picked him up; the guy really wasn't too heavy. He should have had more weight.

By the time they reached the car, Tony felt his muscles ache, nevertheless. Rebecca helped him lay Loki onto the back seats, then climbed in herself and let his head rest in her lap. Silence reigned over the car with unquestionable authority, only Loki muttered something unintelligible from time to time. Tony saw Rebecca stroking his hair when he glanced into the mirror.

Naturally, they got stuck in a traffic jam for a while. It was as good a time to call Bruce as any, so Tony dialled the number and put the call on speakers.

"Hello?" came a response after a while, heavy with sleep.

"Shrek, hi."

"Tony? What are you doing up yet?"

The latter rolled his eyes. Just because he usually didn't function before twelve and at least two coffees, it didn't mean he never did.

"I've got work for you, doc. You're not gonna like it."

"What is it?"

"About that … I don't want another hole in my windows, so could you turn the Hulk off and the doctor on?"

"What is it?"

"You know, I really don't like broken windows. Too much like modern art. I—"

"Shut up," snapped Rebecca. "Wasn't it you who broke them, anyway?"

"Beside the point."

"'s not."

"Is that the journalist girls? What was the name …?"

"Rebecca. Blue Jay. NY. Take your pick. Loki calls her Whispers."

"Shut up, Stark, or I'll break you windows. Every single one of them."

"Loki?"

Tony nodded before he remembered Bruce couldn't see. He'd call others stupid for that, but he needed to focus on driving again, and he was dealing with an extraordinary situation, so he was forgiven.

"Yap. We need you to save his ass."

"What?"

"Breathe, buddy, breathe. Windows, remember? Hey, you still there?"

"Yes." The answer was strained, but he was still talking. Which was a good sign. When he started roaring like Fury, worse than Fury actually (oh God, that was possible!), then Tony would worry.

"Listen, Rudolph's ill or something. He might be dying. Thor will make us eat our guts if we allow that."

For a while, all he heard was breathing. Then,

"Okay. Are you coming to the Tower?"

"Yes." He took the turning to the left. "In five minutes or so. You wouldn't believe how slow cars are."

"You're driving through Manhattan."

"I know. You're boring. They're boring. Anyway, we'll be there. Get some stuff ready. And maybe don't tell Thor. He's not up yet, is he?"

"No. Snoring loud enough to keep the whole city awake. Is that why you're up already?"

"Ha ha. Very funny. Don't call SHIELD. They're not to know about this."

"Is there a special reason?"

"Yeah. Blue Jay makes better puppy eyes than Puss in Boots." At least, that was part of a reason. The other was Loki, paler than that Scandinavian girl Tony'd had some years ago, and blood, all that blood that was still just as crimson as anybody else's. "You've seen Shrek, right? You must have seen Shrek?"

"I know the cat." A sigh. "All right, I'm not telling anyone."

"Thanks. See you then."

Bruce was the one to hang up. Tony only sighed exhaustingly. He felt Rebecca place a hand onto the back of his seat and lean closer.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"I'm only scared of Thor."

"Of course."

He caught her weak smile in the mirror.