A/N: WARNING: some gore (exploding guts and the like)

Loki had already left the apartment by the time Anthony woke up the next morning. It did not bother him, quite the opposite in fact. He was glad to escape the interaction so early in the morning, especially when Loki was in such a bad mood. What had even set him off last night?

Shaking his head, Anthony got up from his curled position on the couch and stretched out his aching limbs, making sure to be careful of his neck. He rubbed his temples as he made his way to the nearest bathroom, intent on splashing his face with cold water to fully wake himself up. The night had been a terror-filled one, his nightmares not leaving him alone no matter what he did. Anthony had woken up twice in the night, his eyes spread wide and his heart racing from panic. Each time he had gotten himself a cold glass of water from the sink and tried to shake away the night terrors before he laid back down on the couch and shakily fell asleep once more.

The mirror revealed newly formed bruises on his neck. Anthony ignored them.

After cleaning himself off slightly, Anthony walked out of the bathroom and noticed a neat pile of clothing sitting on the table in front of the couch. It was essentially the uniform from yesterday but with a few slight changes that made it look more like Loki's: there was now a "Tricks and Drinks" engraved over the breast pocket, the gloves were now pitch black instead of a pearly white, and the pants looked like they would fit him better than the oversized ones from yesterday.

Anthony unfolded the clothes and pulled them on over his boxers, getting dressed to go down and help Loki with the bar. The bar, which shouldn't be open yet. It was only 9:30 in the morning. Didn't it open at 11:00 on weekdays?

Oh well, he would head down anyways. As he tied the laces on his combat boots, Anthony ran through what he was going to say to the dark-haired bartender once he went down to greet him. He would need to apologize, first off, and then he would say something like, "I won't bother you again" or "It was none of my business". And then act like nothing had ever happened. Seemed like a reasonable plan.

His satchel was also on the table, but Anthony ignored it in favor of the I.D. card and driver's license he found tucked inside the breast pocket of his shirt. They had both been in Loki's room last night, which meant that the bartender had specifically remembered to place them there so as to not give Anthony a reason to go into his room and bother him. Seemed like Loki went to great lengths to avoid him this morning. He must be really mad at him.

But for what? All Anthony did was ask why he was acting so weird. It was not like he was insulting him or his "emotions". No matter what he thought, though, Anthony knew he had struck a nerve with his tactless chatter last night, and he had already paid for it.

Maybe something had happened yesterday that Anthony had not been aware of that had set Loki off; if he were to take a guess, it was most likely something to do with Loki's past. The past which Anthony knew nothing about except for the fact that Loki keeps changing his identity in order to hide from something. Maybe they were a lot more alike than he thought in that respect.

Anthony wanted to know more, but he is certain that Loki would tell him nothing, especially while he was this angry. Sighing heavily, Anthony pulled on his gloves and exited the apartment after tucking the two cards into his pant pockets, which were much safer, and closing the door behind him. He purposefully took a long time to go down the stairs, making each footstep heavy enough for the sound to echo towards the bar. There was a scraping of tables coming from down below, most likely from Loki moving something around, and Anthony started to bite his lips nervously. What if he made it even worse? Could he even make it any worse?

"Look who's finally dragged their lazy ass out of bed."

Loki's tone was as cool as ice, and Anthony felt his body temperature drop at least ten degrees when he entered the room. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but the chill was definitely palpable. Loki's back was turned to Anthony when he stepped off the stairwell, and the bartender was dragging random tables to different positions, the muscles in his back and arms clenched tight from anger and tension.

"It's only 9:30. I'm just not an early riser." Anthony slowly walked up behind Loki, extremely aware of the saying that you should never walk behind a horse or else you could get kicked. Loki took his hands away from the tables and brought them to his side. His thumbs were clenched tight inside his fists, and one of his hands was shaking slightly. Anthony tilted his head in confusion. That did not look like anger. No, that motion looked like anxiety or— or fear.

Was Anthony scaring Loki? No, that wasn't right. Loki could have easily killed him last night, and Anthony could have done nothing to save himself. The dark-haired man was obviously superior in fighting skills, and he had more experience blending in with society, going by the many times he has switched his identity. So what did he have to fear? Anthony had seen nothing over the past two days that could cause this in Loki, not even when they were fighting the goons. What did Anthony miss?

Why did he care so much?

He had only known Loki for two days, and yet he was already so invested in the man's personal life. Anthony needed to stop worrying. That was a job for Tony.

"That's good for me, then. I would hate to have to cross paths with you earlier in the morning than necessary," Loki responded. With a sigh, Anthony walked up next to Loki and pulled out a chair to sit down. Loki didn't even glance in his direction.

"Look, Loki, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed your buttons like that," Anthony had no idea how he had pushed his buttons, but he was just trying to say what Loki needed to hear, "and I didn't mean to make you feel like your emotions don't matter. So, please, forgive me and let's just move on."

Anthony had no idea what he was talking about, but he hoped it worked. Loki slowly dragged his eyes to meet Anthony's (Loki had to look down quite a far distance, because Anthony was now even shorter than before because he was sitting down) and curled his lips into a semblance of a scowl.

"I don't care for your apologies, Anthony. Just make sure it doesn't happen again, or I will kill you. As for-" Loki abruptly cut off, his gaze turning sharply towards the window. Anthony jerked his head around, just in time to see two tall men walk past, both of them taking a minute to peer into the bar through the tinted window before continuing past in a huff. Anthony couldn't tell what they looked like, but they were both wearing dark clothing.

When Anthony turned back to Loki, he saw that the other man had frozen, his mouth slightly agape from his unfinished sentence. Loki's clenched fists were somehow even tighter now, the knuckles a ghostly white. Anthony got up from his chair and stared Loki right in the eyes, catching a glimpse of quickly concealed guilt and terror flash through them before they froze back into nonchalant emerald orbs. Loki stared right back at him, his facial features now schooled into one of cool indifference.

"I would appreciate it if you would remove yourself from my personal space," Loki practically growled. Anthony decided not to be an idiot and took a few steps away from the bartender. He did not want to be choked against the wall again. Well, at least not in this setting…

"Did you know those guys?" Anthony asked after he had retreated far enough away. A flash of something appeared in Loki's eyes, indicating that yes, he did know them. Maybe they were from his mystery of a past—

The men from yesterday. Just before Anthony had headed into the kitchen, he had seen two guys enter the bar and then exit just as quickly, both of them matching the vague descriptions of the men he had just seen. If their appearance caused Loki to tense up like that, it could explain why he had been in such a weird mood last night. But the exhaustion… Anthony didn't know how to explain that.

It was just like if Anthony saw Obadiah. He would most definitely act that way— well, except then he would kill him instead of just standing there. So, these people have to have some important role in Loki's past, a role that would be extremely personal. Anthony wanted to know what it was.

It would only be fair, anyways, since Loki knows about Tony and Obadiah's betrayal. Well, not everything.

Maybe, if Anthony opens up, Loki would too?

It isn't really that important.

But what if it helps him trust Loki?

You can never trust Loki. You can't trust anyone.

What if he just wants to know?

Loki would never tell you. Why do you care so much?

His inner voice was right. Why did he want to know so bad? He just needed to focus on his own revenge and past, not worry about someone else's as well.

So much for that.

Loki said nothing more. He just walked back towards the kitchen, turning his back on Anthony and all his many questions.

~o~

"Sorry, we're closed now. Can't take anyone else."

Anthony pointed to the sign hanging on the door, the one that said "CLOSED" in giant letters. Anthony was once again tired after a long day of working at the bar. Why so many people kept coming, he had no idea. Weren't bars supposed to be like, not that popular during the day?

The men in front of him looked extremely annoyed at him, but Anthony couldn't give a fuck. He could barely see straight after all the people he had to serve today, and he was extremely close to having another breakdown like yesterday.

"Please, we just need a few drinks. It's been a long day for us too." Anthony sneered, finally raising his head enough to fully look at them. His eyes widened when he saw that it was the two men from earlier; the ones who Loki was frightened of. Up close, Anthony could see that they were generic looking white men, both with short beards and cropped brown hair. They were also at least seven inches taller than him, so they were practically towering over him.

He shouldn't let them in. Loki had been practically terrified of them. They must have something to do with Loki's past, but Anthony would not risk the bartender's safety just to get some answers.

"No, I'm sorry. Please come back tomorrow."

Anthony then tried to close the door, but one of the men (Anthony is going to call him Guy and the other one Dug. No idea why) stopped it with his arm.

"Please." Guy's tone was dangerous, and Anthony was getting ready to pop the knife out of his metal hand (which would rip through the glove, sadly) and end this before anything began. These people definitely meant trouble, and it would most likely be centered around Loki. Anthony didn't want to lose Loki now, not when he was practically his benefactor.

"Let them in, Anthony," a cool voice said from behind him. Guy's face lit up in satisfaction when he looked behind Anthony, which meant that they had come for Loki. Damn it, Anthony really wasn't in the mood for a fight.

Anthony opened the door wide, letting in a slight breeze, and also allowing Guy and Dug to push their way in. He turned around just as Loki beckoned the two men to sit down and went off to get them drinks. They chose to sit at the open bar, making it easier for Loki to take their orders (two simple pale ales), but also easier for them to watch his every move. Anthony did not like that one bit.

"So, how are you guys today?" Anthony asked, drawing their attention away from Loki, who was extremely tense and on edge. Guy and Dug scowled at him but still answered.

"Fine. It's been a bit long, but a few drinks should help," Dug said with an unsolicited glare in Anthony's direction.

Anthony had to keep himself from snarling at them. They were testing his patience, which he did not have a lot of in the first place. They were reminding him too closely of the disgusting people that had betrayed him— betrayed Tony— and he was in no mood to be reminded.

"I'm sure they will," Loki said as hesitated slightly before passing the two drinks to Dug and Guy, his face expressionless. Even Anthony couldn't tell what was going on inside his head right now, and he had been practicing that skill on Bucky for years.

"So, bartender, when did you set up this little bar, hm?" Dug asked before taking a sip of the beer. Loki stiffened ever so slightly, not enough for the men to notice, but enough for Anthony to know that he was in no way calm at the moment. Good, his skills haven't gone to hell after all.

"A few years ago, back in 2010."

Anthony was getting extremely bad vibes from these two guys. But he was nowhere near the level of scared that Loki probably was right now, just based on his reaction to them earlier.

"Really? Seems like this place has been here forever." Guy smiled, the rim of the beer glass dancing on his smug lips. Just after Guy took a sip, Loki, with his eyes focused on the glass in Guy's hands, said, "Yes, it does, doesn't it. Have you been watching?"

Anthony was now extremely confused. He had absolutely no idea what was going on. Watching? It seemed like these guys had never been here before.

Guy and Dug both downed their whole glass of beer before standing up. "Yes, actually, we have. You've escaped for far too long. We've been generous thus far, not taking you in when we've known you've been here for years, but now the fun is over. Come quietly, Loki, and we won't harm you."

Loki sighed, his hands going up to rub his temples. "This is going to be so hard to clean up."

Guy and Dug both took a step back, obviously just as confused as Anthony was. Anthony followed suit, backing away from all three of them, and just in time. Dug flicked his hand sharply and produced a long golden sword, which would have slashed right through Anthony if he had not moved. Despite the fact that he was far enough away to not be injured, Anthony still stumbled backwards, tripping over a table and landing harshly on his metal hand, which sent a sharp stab of pain through his entire arm when the metal shifted slightly against his skin. Shit, he needed to replace his metal limbs, they were now becoming more of a hindrance than a help.

Anyways, why the hell did Dug have a fucking sword? And where did it come from? Anthony didn't think technology had advanced as far as to create little pocket dimensions (cue sarcasm), and even Tony hadn't gotten around to creating something that could shrink down in size.

"Ah, you did better than your counterparts, but I am afraid you have failed as well. Have a pleasant stay in Helheim." Loki wiped his hands on his towel with a blank expression on his face, giving off the feeling that he was totally unaffected by the giant sword pointed at him. And, um, why was there a sword? And not a gun? Like, what? And wasn't Helheim something in Norse mythology? Don't tell him that Loki actually believed in pagan gods.

Dug laughed. "What are you talking about? We have you. You can't run again, little prince. Come with us now, and you will be treated better than if we have to force you."

Prince?

Guy flicked out a sword as well, his silver in color, and they both advanced on Loki, who's eyes were shining in barely disguised terror. Anthony was on the edge of getting up to help Loki fight off the two strange men, but then he heard a slight muttering coming from Loki's mouth.

"Five… four… three… two…"

Anthony tensed as Loki got to one. Dug raised his sword as Guy reached for the unmoving Loki, and just as Guy came in contact with him, he burst into a million pieces. Dark crimson blood splattered everywhere, guts and organs covering the walls and floor. As his partner combusted, Dug dropped his sword in horror and practically ran away towards the door. Just as he was about to open the door, he too exploded. Anthony was showered with the pieces of what used to be Dug. There was nothing left that resembled a person.

Just blood. And organs. And bones. Everywhere.

Anthony was disgusted. His entire body was coated in— in shit. He could deal with blood, but the little gooey bits that looked like parts of a fucking brain? No. Just no.

"Moisturize me, moisturize me…" Anthony couldn't help but let that slip out. Tony had been a huge fan of Doctor Who back in the day. Did a new season come out in the seven years Anthony had been gone? Eh, it didn't matter. Good thing Loki didn't hear him, or that would be embarrassing.

Turning to the side, Anthony dry heaved for a few seconds, trying to get the image of the two men exploding out of his head. This was way worse than a few scars.

"Do I have to kill you as well?"

Anthony snapped his head up, breathing heavily. Loki was out from behind the counter, his entire face lathered with blood and— well you know what. In his hands he held the silver sword that formerly belonged to Guy, twisting it around and admiring it. Despite the cool mask that Loki hid his face behind, Anthony could tell the bartender was barely calming down from what had just happened: his hands were shaking slightly, and his breaths were shallower than usual.

"No. I won't tell anyone about this. I don't care why you killed them, just— just don't do that again. It was fucking disgusting." Anthony slowly got to his feet, pulling off as much of the soaked clothing he could. The gloves came off first, exposing his declining metal hand and the scars that came with it, then his shirt. It was a good thing that he was wearing an undershirt underneath the button-up; he didn't feel like exposing all his scars in front of Loki.

Anthony's wrist was killing him, but he ignored it.

Loki didn't bother getting rid of any of the clothing that he was wearing (not that Anthony minded, he needed to stay focused. There was something about half-naked men who had just murdered someone that turned him on…). Instead, he just walked over to the door and locked it, the sword still in hand.

Anthony was still very confused at what had just happened. Two men, men that Loki had known, had entered the bar and tried to what? Capture Loki? For what? What did Loki do that two men with actual swords needed to come and arrest him? Were they from the medieval ages? Why not guns? And how did Loki kill them? They just spontaneously combusted; Loki didn't even touch them.

"I— Loki how— what were they doing here? Please don't lie, I need to know, alright?" Anthony clenched his muscles in his arm to get rid of the nasty pain in his arm that came from landing funny on it. Loki didn't look up at him, instead he simply kept admiring the sword.

"Why should I tell you? I have only known you for two days."

"You intrigue me."

Loki looked up at Anthony with a dazzling white smile, which contrasted drastically with the red splattered all over his face. "I thought that was my line."

"Yeah, well, this whole thing is now very intriguing, so I hope you plan to explain. I don't need to know everything about you, just why the hell two random people just tried to abduct you."

Loki sat down at one of the tables, the sword in his lap. He had picked up the other sword, the gold one, and was now comparing them. He glanced up at Anthony. "Come, sit."

Anthony furrowed his eyebrows and let out a chuckle. "How do I know you won't kill me with those?"

Loki just smiled. "You don't. It's about trust. If you can't trust me, how do I trust you?"

With a long sigh, Anthony sat down in the seat across from Loki, keeping a finger hovering over the button that would release the knife from his hand. He could feel a steady ache growing in his chest, right behind his scar, and he had to keep himself from clenching his teeth and letting Loki see his discomfort. The man himself was still comparing the two swords, a curious expression on his face.

"So, what's with the swords?"

Loki looked up at him, his eyes calculating. "Old fashioned."

Well, that helped a lot.

Loki continued, "They were after me, as you could tell. And, I am sure that you have now realized the cause of my temperament last night."

Anthony rubbed his right hand against his chest, trying to relieve the pangs. "Yeah, I thought I saw Dug and Guy-" Loki raised an eyebrow, "-I mean the two guys— yesterday. They walked in and then promptly left. No idea why. Maybe reconnaissance?"

Loki shook his head but didn't give an answer. "It doesn't matter. They were trying to capture me and turn me in to— to the authorities for a ransom. I am quite a high quality prisoner."

Anthony snorted. Yeah, he could believe that. With the fighting skills the guy possessed, and the odd sort of regality he had, he definitely would be a high calibre captive. Along with the fact that Dug had called him a prince. Loki looked at him in amusement, but his eyes were skeptical. Anthony didn't take his finger away from the button.

"So, you knew them? From what I saw, you were scared of them."

Loki's expression changed from amused to enraged in less than a second. It reminded him of the look on his face just before he tried to choke Anthony against the wall the night before. Anthony became extremely conscious of the swords still in Loki's hands.

"Do not insult me like that. How could I be afraid of those vermin? I didn't even have to touch them, and yet I defeated them. I bet you could not say the same, little mortal."

Um. Unless Loki just liked calling people "mortals", Anthony was pretty sure that what he had just said meant that he wasn't a mortal. Which meant…

"What do you mean, "mortal"?" Anthony asked, slowly trying to scoot his chair back without getting Loki's attention. This was going to turn out bad, he just knew it.

Loki frowned and tilted his head to the side before closing his eyes in a look of concentration. Anthony saw him clench a fist around one of the swords before he felt a sudden chill pass through his body and enter his head, feeling almost like a brain freeze. He gasped in pain and grabbed at his head, clenching his eyes shut tight to try and alleviate the pain. Every thought left his head as the pain darted through it. After a few seconds, the pain lessened bit by bit before it was gone entirely.

"Ow." Anthony blinked several times. What had he been saying? He couldn't remember… oh well. "So why exactly were they here? What did you do?"

Loki shook his head and placed both swords on the table, a new look of exhaustion written on his face. "It is of no importance. All you need to know is that it isn't safe living with me at the moment, and I understand if you wish to find lodging elsewhere."

Anthony was taken aback. What? "Loki, this is the best I'm going to get. Would you rather I go back to the damn island I came from and never get my fucking revenge? I can handle a few deaths. In fact, I was made to handle a few deaths. I don't care if it's dangerous."

The pain in his chest was worse than before, but Anthony ignored it in favor of defiantly staring straight into Loki's eyes. He couldn't believe that Loki thought it was too dangerous for Anthony. Anthony, who needed Loki's help to survive. Loki had offered to help, and that's what Anthony was going to make sure he did.

"They won't stop. They found me once, they will find me again."

It was Anthony's turn to shake his head. "You said you would help me, right? You said that I intrigue you? Why would you want to get rid of me?"

Loki slowly stood up before taking the few steps that closed the distance between them. Loki's face was now leaning over his, merely inches away. Anthony didn't know if he should be terrified or turned on.

"You're right, Anthony. I am being a coward. I will help you perform your revenge, as you call it, and in turn, you shall help me? As I said before."

Anthony just nodded, his mouth partly agape. Damn, he was such a loser. Get a goddamn grip.

"Good. I know that Tony was an amazing engineer. Let's get you set up with your own mechanic shop. It will be the best disguise for your skills."

Well, that was a change of direction. "Okay. How will we pay for it? I barely have any money left, and you aren't even paying me."

"No matter, I have money saved up. And I am sure I can talk to a few people to get you room near here to set it up. Leave it to me."

Anthony let himself smile, feeling pleasant and welcome emotions fill him for the first time in years. He was happy. Shouldn't Tony be the one who could feel this? "Thank you. But, of course, when I'm done, I need to help you, right?"

Loki nodded before backing up and removing himself from Anthony's space. Anthony felt his happy mood dim as the bartender moved away, and his grin faded.

"Now, to get this all cleaned up." Loki moved away, grabbing his towel as he went. Glancing around the room, Anthony was reminded of the destruction that had been caused only minutes before.

Wait.

"Loki, how the hell did you make them explode?"

Loki paused and turned around, a hesitant look on his face. "It… was in the drink. Special concoction that targets certain cells in the body and causes them to expand so much that they explode."

Anthony was incredibly impressed by that, and of course his innate curiosity caused him to need to know how to do it himself. Maybe he was more Tony than he took credit for.

~o~

It had taken forever to clean up the bar, and still had some stains when they were done. Both of them were exhausted, Loki more so, and they had trudged upstairs without any conversation. Loki had peeled off his clothes before heading straight to the shower, not even bothering to keep his privacy. Anthony stood there in shock as Loki stripped to bare naked before he entered the bathroom, not even closing the door behind him. The sound of the shower starting dragged him out of his trance, and he dropped his bloody clothes in the sink of the other bathroom (which sadly did not have its own shower). He was still wearing something, thank goodness. He didn't want Loki to see his plethora of scars when the other man came out of the shower.

His pants were the only particle of clothing still on his body that had a large amount of blood and— well, guts— on them. Anthony didn't want to take them off, he had nothing to replace them with and he didn't feel like going into Loki's room to get more. That would risk seeing the open bathroom, and then Loki…

There was also the risk of starting a conversation that he didn't want to have at the moment.

Shaking his head, Anthony turned on the sink to start to rinse away the stuff on his clothes. The gloves were most likely ruined; Anthony had practically ripped them off when he had been rushing to get his clothes off. His other clothes would probably have to be washed in an actual machine…

Anthony's thoughts drifted towards meaningless speculations, and he stopped focusing on everything around him, just letting his hands take over. He lost track of time as his hands steadily washed the grime out of his clothes, soapy water cascading over his arms. Eventually, his thoughts drifted towards his time on the island, where he washed his clothes by hand as well, Bucky by his side, silently helping. Before he had his metal hand in place, Bucky would help him with most things. Bucky… Anthony abruptly stopped his hands, looking down sharply. Both of them were shaking horribly, the normal one more than the metal. His jaw started to tremble, and he could feel his throat constricting. He missed Bucky so damn much. But only now had he realized. And he felt horrible. Anthony rested his hands on the rim of the sink, dropping the clothes in the sink. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to clear his head and disperse his unwelcome emotions.

He had been feeling more new emotions in these last three days than he had been in all his seven years away from civilization. Sadness, fear, pain. No, pain wasn't new. But sadness? He had had no room for sadness on the island, and he should not have any now. He can't. Not when he was so close…

"Are you alright, Anthony?"

Anthony couldn't help but flinch, his grip on the sink tightening. He clenched his jaw for a few seconds, trying desperately to stop the trembling. What was wrong with him?

"Yes. Totally. Perfectly fine."

He heard slow footsteps coming closer, slow enough so that Anthony could tell exactly where Loki was. Deliberately slow.

"I have a feeling that you are not. And that it does not have anything to do with what occurred tonight." Loki was a few feet away from him when he stopped. Good. If Anthony were to be touched right now, he would probably freak out.

"I-I don't— I mean-" Anthony couldn't get his jaw to stop trembling. He slammed his human hand down on the counter in frustration. "Damn it!"

Why now? Why did he have to think about Bucky now? Focus on something else— anything else. Obadiah— yes! Obadiah and Pepper and Rhodey and revenge. Anger, hate, pain. Tony. Think about before, not now.

Anthony started to calm down as his thoughts led away from Bucky and his time on the island. His sadness slowly ebbed away, and he drew on his anger to calm himself.

"I am fine."

Loki let out a sigh. "If you do not wish to talk, you do not have to."

Anthony shakedly let go of the sink and shook out his hands over the sink. His tired eyes opened slightly, both of them a bit blurred from unreleased tears. Blinking several times, Anthony cleared his vision and turned to face Loki, who was wearing a green shirt and black sweatpants, his wet hair hanging loosely around his face.

"I— nothing's wrong. I was just thinking about— um, nothing. Yeah, I'm perfectly fine." Anthony couldn't tell him what he had been thinking, because then it would bring back all the— damn it! Stop thinking about it!

"You can always tell me, Anthony. I know that you do not trust me, and you probably have good reason to, but I promised to help you, and this would be fulfilling that promise. I have had my fair share of hurt in my life, you know." Loki's face was full of empathy, and Anthony almost felt like he could confide in him. But he knew that if he trusted anyone, eventually it would backfire and they would betray him. Isn't that what happened with Obadiah?

"I said I'm fine. I'm just gonna take a shower and then, I don't know. Do something. Do you have a washing machine for these clothes?" Anthony pointed in the general direction of the sink, glad to finally think of a subject that he could force the direction of the conversation towards. Loki nodded, stepping sideways to let Anthony walk past him.

"Yes, but it's down the hall. I can take them there for you. I'll be back soon; you can take a shower if you want."

Anthony gladly took advantage of the offer as fast as he could, rushing to get out of the other bathroom and the uninvited memories that had surfaced inside. Memories from not that long ago. With a growl, he slammed the door shut behind him and practically ripped off his clothes.

The shower's cool spray was a wonderful distraction from the mess of thoughts in his head. Anthony just stood there, his face turned towards the spout, letting the water pour over his head and wash away the blood. However, he couldn't distract himself for long. How many times had he been in this exact position before? Washing away other people's blood from his body?

Too many.

No, not enough.

Murder isn't right. You were just supposed to get your revenge and be done with it.

Oddly enough, the voice inside his head was Bucky's.

Do you even really need your revenge now? Just start a new life, leave it all behind you with Tony.

He couldn't. Just like he couldn't leave Bucky behind. But he had. All alone on the island. His first trustworthy friend, and he had left him by himself.

Why couldn't he stop thinking about this?

What had changed in the past few hours that he was stuck thinking about his friend?

The fact that parts of Loki's past had popped up out of the blue? That's why he couldn't just forget his stupid friend?

He had only been away from him for a little more than a week. Why was this so painful?

Because he was your only real friend. Everyone else betrayed you.

This time it was Loki's voice.

It made sense. Bucky had been the only person that Anthony could rely on, even during the roughest parts of his life. He had been the one to drag him inland after— after the explosion. The damn explosion.

The fire slowly creeping up his arms just before the blast threw him backward. The blisters forming in slow motion, the sound of his ears ringing sharply, the pounding headache, the jagged pain of his hand and foot being sliced off. The horrible feeling of betrayal coursing through his body, the numbness wrapping itself around his mind, tuning him out to anything but horrible, terrible, unimaginable pain.

His entire chest was on fire. When he looked down, he saw hundreds upon hundreds of bloody holes peppering his chest, all of them filled with shrapnel and pieces of metal from the ship. The hole in his chest from Afghanistan was split wide open, burning him and splitting him in half. Was this real?

Anthony couldn't control his breathing. What was going on? It looked so real. And when he touched any of the wounds, flares of pain would shoot through his body, and his hands would come back bloody.

"No. No, no, no."

He fell on his backside, shuffling backwards in an attempt to center himself against the wall. This couldn't be real. Nothing had happened to him. He needed to calm down. But the walls were closing in on him, constricting his view and trapping him like a caged animal.

His heads dragged through his long hair of their own accord, forcibly ripping out a few strands. His shallow breaths sent chasms of pain to rip through his body, into his very soul. This didn't make any sense. Nothing had felt like this before. Was his mind betraying him?

No, no, this had to be real. Nothing feels like this unless it was real. He needed Bucky.

He didn't realize he was crying out in pain until the door opened wide and cold hands were pressed to his forehead and shoulder. Had Bucky come for him?

"Anthony, what is wrong? Tell me, please." Was that Loki? Of course it was, Anthony was in his shower after all.

"Go… away…" Anthony grunted between gasps of pain. This felt like… it felt like just after the explosion. Like his body was experiencing the exact same pain it had then. Was this part of his panic attack? Or something else?

He needed Bucky. Bucky would know what to do.

"I'm not going away until you tell me what's wrong. Anthony, are you having a panic attack?"

"Am I? I don't know. My chest— I can't— it hurts so much." Anthony was barely breathing. The pain was less than before, which meant it had to be fake, but when he looked down, the blood and holes were still there. He didn't know what to do. This had never happened. It shouldn't happen. He was Anthony, he wasn't supposed to be like this.

"There isn't anything with your chest on the outside," Loki said, causing Anthony to look upwards sharply. He realized then that Loki had turned the water off. No wonder he was getting extremely hot. "It must be something happening on the inside. Anthony?"

Anthony's eyes, which had fallen shut when Loki had kept talking, darted open. He had nothing on his chest? Anthony looked down again, and he clearly saw the bloody mess of the holes peppering his skin. None of this made sense. What was Loki seeing? No, what wasn't Loki seeing that Anthony was?

"I— there is so much blood, what are you talking about?" Anthony's hands drifted towards his chest again, and through the haze of his vision, he could see Loki's hands come and meet them, holding them away from his chest, just like Bucky had when they first met.

"Anthony, I believe you are hallucinating. What were you thinking about before this?" Loki's voice was riddled with concern. Anthony could not process what any of this meant. He had been thinking about Bucky… and then the explosion. The overwhelming memories had overtaken his senses and drove him quite mad for the time being. Hallucinating? During a panic attack?

"The explosion. Bucky. Everything. Too much." Anthony could not calm down yet. Just saying that, confessing his inner thoughts to an almost stranger, was driving his anxiety towards the roof. His heart rate was incredibly high, and the jagged pain in his chest was now focusing right over where his scar was located. Thoughts of the explosion came back, and instead of the usual anger he held towards Obadiah whenever he thought of it, he only felt fear and panic. Where had his usual emotions gone? He used to be only full of anger and rage, and now he was weak and filled with only fear. Like Tony.

There was a sigh from Loki, and Anthony whipped his head to face him, jaw trembling and heart racing so fast that it was almost jumping out of his chest. Loki had a somber expression on his face and his shoulders were slumped. Slowly, the bartender reached out both of his arms and wrapped them around Anthony's naked body in a tight embrace. Anthony's body betrayed him, grasping onto Loki like a lifeline. The slimmer body of the other man was incredibly relaxed, the complete opposite of what Anthony was. His grip on Loki was vice like, trembling hands digging into the green shirt.

When Tony had anxiety or panic attacks, he had not allowed anyone to be near him, not even Pepper. Except for JARVIS. Who was now gone. Damn it! Why did he have to think about that now? A wave of sadness washed over him, closing his throat up and stinging his eyes.

Loki made a move to get up, but Anthony's hands just grabbed on tighter.

"Don't go. Please." Anthony leaned in closer to Loki, this time on purpose. The other man gave him comfort, maybe because he reminded him of Bucky, maybe because he radiated ease. Anthony entirely forgot he was naked.

"Alright, I'll stay with you. But let's get off the shower floor, yes?" Loki's voice was kind and gentle, and it soothed Anthony enough for him to nod his head. Thousands of thoughts raced through his head as he slowly uncurled his fingers from Loki's shirt and allowed the calmer man to get up.

Loki wiped his hands on his shirt before reaching back over to Anthony and curling his arms around Anthony's legs and back and lifting him up in a bridal pose. Anthony barely noticed. He was now shaking violently, and Loki pressed him tightly against his chest.

If anyone had seen them now, it would have looked adorable.

Except for the fact that one of them was soaking wet, naked, and having a panic attack.

Anthony didn't realize that Loki had gently set him on his bed until the soft covers were pressed against his back. He couldn't help but think of when Obadiah had done that to him when he was a child, tucking him into bed when he had fallen asleep.

His throat tightened even more.

"Oh Anthony."

The tiredness and sadness in Loki's voice were something that Anthony had never heard before. It was on an entirely new level.

"I'm— I'm so sorry... " Anthony murmured. Because he was. He had lost control of himself, allowing the childish feelings of— of Tony to break through the many layers he had constructed to keep them away. Loki had done nothing but be kind to him, offering him his home, a job, and help, and Anthony was crying in his arms, unable to repay him. If he relied on Loki so much, how would he be able to help him when the time came?

"No, Anthony, there is nothing to be sorry for. I know what you are going through, believe me. I am merely trying to show you the kindness that should have been shown to me." The voice was fading away as Anthony's mind drifted to his memories. All of his memories. Childhood, teenage years, becoming an adult, his parents' death, Stark Industries, Afghanistan— his brain seemed to think that focusing on Afghanistan was good for him right now, how funny— the explosion, seven years of pain-

Anthony felt himself burning up, even if he didn't have any clothes on. He didn't want to risk looking at his chest in fear of finding that the blood was real. Instead, he let himself drift off into his memories, the last picture in his head one of a bloody and broken mask, laying on a bed of sand.

~o~

It was incredibly embarrassing to wake up next to someone he had only known for about three days with only boxers on, especially when he knew that they hadn't done anything last night. Well, he had a panic attack, but that wasn't in the same category as actually having sex or something. The boxers meant that Loki had put them on Anthony himself, which meant he had touched him down there-

Anthony was better, at least. His chest was no longer bloody and filled with holes, only the normal scars from before.

Oh no. Loki had seen him naked.

Loki had seen all his scars.

Anthony drew in a sharp breath and pulled the covers closer to him, causing Loki to roll over and look directly in his eyes.

"Feeling any better?" Loki wasn't wearing his green shirt anymore, and his body was pressed against Anthony's. The vague memory of Anthony begging Loki to sleep next to him last night surfaced, and his cheeks reddened from embarrassment.

"Uh, yes. Much better. Thank you."

Loki smiled at him, a real smile. "That's good. You had a major panic attack, and were even hallucinating, so I was worried about you. Not to mention the fact that you practically chained yourself to me last night. You wouldn't let me go."

Anthony looked away from the dark-haired man and crossed his arms. "Yes, well. Back on the island, I had someone who helped me out whenever I had panic attacks about before. So when I had a panic attack because of him, I didn't know what to do."

Why had he said that? He hadn't wanted to reveal too much about himself to Loki.

But after last night, Anthony thought he could trust Loki. Almost as much as he trusted Bucky.

That was a major improvement.

"Go back to sleep. I'm not opening the bar up today. Going to say we are getting renovations or something." Anthony shook his head slightly but closed his eyes again, almost immediately falling asleep.

In his slumber, Anthony curled up closer to Loki, who in turn tightened his embrace around the man with a small smile of content. Anthony's head was gently laying on Loki's bare chest, and the bartender stroked the tormented man's hair softly, humming a slight tune.

~o~

Loki held back a scowl as he realized that his outer shields were being brought down by a man he had only known for a short amount of time. This stranger caused him so much conflict, but Loki refused to let it show. He would help Anthony through his hardships, not for the other man's sake, but for his own interest. He was only intrigued, was he not? He owed Anthony nothing, he did not have to help. And yet, here he was, stroking Anthony's head like a damaged puppy, feeling his barriers fall one by one. There was something about the pain in the now sleeping man's eyes that connected itself to Loki, made him empathize with Anthony, made him care more than he should.

"This will be quite interesting, won't it?" Loki sighed as he closed his eyes and leaned back against the pillows. He would not fall asleep again, he knew, and he did not try. Instead, he was content to hold Anthony to him and try not to think of what transpired in his bar only hours before.

A/N: So sorry for the really long wait. I have been extremely busy, but this chapter has been written for a long time, so I really have no excuse... :( I've been struggling with the idea of continuing this story because I am not happy with the way I have written it so far, but I decided against stopping it because I thought it wouldn't be fair to the people who read it. Maybe I'll do a rewrite in the future!

But anyways, we got a Doctor Who reference, some Loki backstory, some Loki voodoo, and some Bucky and Anthony feels!

Also, HAPPY APRIL FOOLS DAY!