Life is never gentle

by Cip

No-one ever said life was kind or gentle and Tony is about to find out the hard way just how difficult it can be. And this time he can't call on the Avenger's for help and can't tell Pepper the truth - he has to do this alone, and that thought is terrifying. FrostIron, warnings inside.

30. Chapter 30

Sorry for the delay on this one - life has once again got in the way of things recently. xxx

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A few hours after Loki and Thor had left Tony checked his email to find something in his inbox from an encrypted sender. Given that Jarvis had allowed it through it was fairly obvious who it was from, and he opened it with a heavy sigh in expectation of the contents.

As it was, it was shorter than he had first assumed, and actually rather sweet.

Stark,

I saw on the news that your tower was attacked. Given that none of the Avengers appeared to be in attendance I can only perceive that they were after your daughter.

I trust that my sister is alright?

Yours, M.

Short but sweet.

Merlin apparently didn't stand on ceremony, even if he had – for the first time – referred to Evie as family. Tony tapped a finger against his lips as he wondered how much he should tell this person who – for all that he was Loki's son – was still a complete stranger that Stark had never met.

Hey 'M' (and you know that makes you sound like a Sherlock villain, right?),

Thanks for your concern, we're all fine here. They were after Evie but didn't get her – as you can imagine your Mother didn't take kindly to anyone threatening our daughter harm. Hydra lost a significant number of men so sucks to be them. On a heads up your Mom's off planet right now; something about a war in Alfhiem. Not like you two talk to each other, but I thought I'd let you know. He said he'd be a few weeks; I don't know if he means their time or our time though, so it may be a month or so.

I'll let you know when he gets back,

T Stark

He sent the reply and resisted the urge to go and pour a scotch. God, he'd never even met Merlin and the guy managed to wind him up spectacularly.

"Jarv', where's Evie?"

"Kick boxing training in the gym, Sir."

"Huh, who's idea was that?"

"Natasha, sir. It is good for discipline and building strength."

"Fine. I'm going to go and…I dunno, do something in the lab, I guess." Tony pulled himself up from his seat with such heaviness to the movement that for a moment he looked like an old man.

"Sir, are you quite alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?!" The man snapped.

"You appear to be somewhat tense, sir."

"I'm fine."

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Dinner was a subdued affair that night. There were only a few of them to begin with – Sam, Natasha and Clint had all got somewhere better to be, and Pepper was stuck in a meeting so it would have been quiet anyway, but this made it worse. They had grown used to Loki's constant presence over the past few months since coming back to Earth, and Thor's loud absence left quite a hole in the conversation.

After so long fighting to get Loki back it was jarring to have him missing again so soon. Evie wasn't eating properly, and for all that Tony nagged her, he himself wasn't really touching his food either. Both simply pushed the noodles around their respective plates, trying to make superfluous conversation. The two missing places at the table were like twin black holes that continuously drew the gaze and sucked up all attempts at a discussion.

Evie gave up and left first with some mumbled comment about going to put a film on, and was followed quickly by her father. No doubt they'd end up watching some Disney movie – that was usually the go-to happy fix.

"Well, now what?" It was Bruce who put a voice to the universal question that they all wanted to ask. "We're down two of our strongest team members."

"And Tony's not gonna have his head really screwed on when he's got so much else on his mind." Rhodey added gloomily. "And we shouldn't expect him to either, since Evie's already in a bit of a state and she's only going to get worse the longer Loki's gone."

"I thought you didn't like Loki." Bruce glanced up at the other man.

"I don't need to like him to recognise what impact his absence will have. Tony's been erratic since you guys all came back from Asgard, and God knows what this might do to him."

"Erratic?" Steve asked. "I wouldn't have put it like that."

"Yeah, but I've seen that man through some of the worst times of his life, and sure having Evie made him settle down, but you can't tell me you don't think he's been acting differently."

Steve and Bruce looked at each other and the super soldier shrugged. "Well, I suppose he's a little distracted, but no more so than when he's got a new project on the go. What do you expect though? He's got a lot going on."

"Just a bit."

Bruce rolled his eyes as he helped himself to more noodles from the boxes of takeaway in the centre of the table. "I think we're also missing the huge point that Thor and Loki may not be in the best of states when they get back. From the little we've seen of intergalactic warfare it's not pretty, and Loki's got enough psychosis to be going on with as it is."

There was a collective wince – even Sam and James who hadn't had as much interaction with the trickster as the others had come to realise that Loki with a fresh dose of PTSD would probably result in the tower being levelled. And actually Thor with the same problems would be difficult to help as well.

"This is a really depressing conversation." Steve pushed his plate away with a sigh. "Maybe we could all do ourselves a favour and not speculate about what may or may not be happening and focus on our own problems down here."

"Because our problems aren't just as depressing." Bruce cut in with a wry grin. "Days were so much simpler when all I had to worry about was where my trousers were." He saw the other two eye him doubtfully and shrugged with a quiet laugh. "Oh okay, so it was slightly more complex than that, but still, it was easier than all this Starwars crap. I don't want to worry about possible alien invasions; I want to worry about whether or not to move on to a new pose in my yoga routine."

Rhodes laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, to be honest, I prefer worrying about the fate of the world rather than spending my days helping Pepper keep Tony sober, or scraping him off the ground if we were too late for that. And besides, I'd never want to give up the suit!"

"Which, by the way, it a total rip-off of my suit." Steve quickly added with a sly smirk.

"It looks nothing like your suit!"

Bruce sat back with a sigh and tried to finish his meal whilst the argument developed around him.

"…Red, white and blue? Be original!"

"You don't own the American flag, Rogers!"

"You guys do know that Russia uses the same colours, right?" Banner asked mildly. "And the UK, France, Australia, Iceland, Norway, Thailand…Really, the list is quite long.

"Yes, but I have a star which makes it pretty damn obvious who I fight for." Steve pointed out.

"Yeah, Puerto Rico."

"…You know no-one likes a show off, right, Banner?"

"I'd suggest you should both just pick new colour-schemes, but unless you want to go for beige, most of the spectrum has already been covered really. I'm already sharing the green thing with Loki."

"Iron Patriot would look badass in green." Rhodey said with a grin. "Or gold – but Tony's made it clear he has the monopoly on gold."

"Pink would work." Steve said helpfully. "Or lavender."

"No, no, I wouldn't want to deprive you of your favourite colours."

Bruce rolled his eyes. "You are such children."

Steve slapped him on the back, nearly pitching the scientist into his plate of noodles. "Maybe, but we've taken your mind off of intergalactic war, so mission accomplished."

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The bodies piled up, waist deep, neck deep. Heads, arms, legs hacked off and thrown this way and that like discarded toys. Any ground that could be reached and stood on was unsteady, a mire created by the vast pools of blood spreading out.

Tony walked through the carnage like a ghost, not comprehending what he was seeing around him. He had never seen a resident of Alfheim but the slim bodies could only have been Elves, and would have been beautiful before they had been mutilated. Aesir lay amongst them, blood and muck making them almost indistinguishable from the other warriors. Sif was thrown there amongst them, her head cast back at an unnatural angle and her neck severed to the bone.

Beside the woman was a body only recognisable as Fandral by his armour, the head Norn-knows where amongst the carnage.

These sights passed the man by as he waded on, pushing the corpses aside. He couldn't have said what was drawing him on, or what he was searching for, but the sense of urgency was overwhelming. His arms ached from trying to heave the heavy bodies from his path, his legs weary from trying to pull from the mud and gore on the ground.

Questing fingers found Thor's helmet – the silver sheen muddied and reflecting the burnt orange of the sky which filled with flames. One wing had been sheared off and the other was bent out of all recognition. There was a large dent in the crown and another crushing in the front where it should have protected Thor's brow. Of the Thunderer there was no sign.

"Tony…"

The whisper was almost lost amongst the roar of the oncoming flames, a beckoning call onwards that drew Stark away from where the other Aesir lay and further ahead into the sea of bodies. Dead faces were blurring into each other, Hogun, Volstagg, Heimdall, even Odin was seen in the distance, the great spear Gungnir shattered beside him.

Tony's foot found what he was looking for before his eyes did, the toe of his shoe catching the edge of a broken golden horn and sending it spinning away. His gaze followed the slender piece of metal and then glimpsed a glimmer of green in amongst the heaped silver-armoured bodies.

A willowy Elven body was hauled out of the way, sagging like a rag-doll as it slid to the ground, revealing green and black leather that had been stained a dull dirty brown with blood. A broken hand flopped free, releasing its grasp on a shattered spear and hanging loose and limp. A gold bracer – now scratched and bent out of shape – still wrapped the forearm, the pattern frighteningly familiar. Tony's gaze drew up along the arm as if being towed by a freight train. He didn't want to look, didn't want to see what he already knew was there and yet he couldn't stop himself from doing so.

Loki's eyes were open but sightless, staring up unseeingly at the smoke smudged sky. Other than a thin rivulet of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth it might have looked that nothing was wrong if not for the absolute stillness. No flicker in the corner of his mouth, no glimmer in his eyes, just a frozen gaze and half a smile curling his lips.

"Loki…" And his world came crashing down.

It took a long time for Tony to recognise that the screaming he could hear was his own.

Loki's eyes continued to stare sightlessly upwards, that mocking smile making him look like he was laughing at Tony's pain. Death didn't suit him; it washed out his already-pale cheeks and lent a hollow and sunken look to his eyes that dulled them to nothing.

"Please…please don't be….you promised…" Tony's breath was gulping and snatching, unable to fully form sentences. "You promised you were coming back…"

There wasn't a reply as he hugged Loki's free hand to his chest, gasping sobs racking his body.

"You promised! You promised! Youpromisedyoupromisedpromisedpromised…" Sobs became one long keening shriek, words running together. Loki couldn't be…He wasn't…Nonononononono!

Tony couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, couldn't think. There was no way…after everything Loki wouldn't…this couldn't be…

Nononononononononono…..

There was a hand on his shoulder, skeletal talons digging deep into the muscle, wrenching him away from his husband's body with vicious force. He screamed and fought, desperate to keep a hold on Loki's hand, to stay at the trickster's side despite it all. Shrieking and shrieking and shrieking…

"Sir, sir, please wake up."

Tony's eyes flew open with a strangled gasp, tears blurring his vision. He half sat up, gasping and retching, his body tightly wrapped in the bed sheets.

"Sir?"

Slowly, ever so slowly the skeletal talons ripping a hole through his shoulder melted away from his imagination, leaving Jarvis' slender robotic fingers gently shaking him. There was music playing, some classical stuff that he couldn't name, but that was part of his calm-me-down playlist.

"What the fuck…"

"I believe you were experiencing a nightmare, sir."

The lights very slowly brightened to a warm glow and Tony propped himself on one elbow He ran a shaking hand down his face, wiping away the tear tracks as he tried to orientate himself and detach the dream from reality.

"Wha' time izit?"

"Six seventeen AM, Sir." Jarvis was already straightening out the bed-sheets in a business-like manner and the fussiness of the action grounded Stark a little more. "One of the scutters is on the way up with hot chocolate."

"Huh?" Tony sat up properly, still trying to calm his breathing down. He felt cold and clammy, and the moment Jarvis had tucked the last corner of the sheet in, he wrenched the whole lot free to hug up around himself. The droid affected a sigh, but didn't comment.

There was a gentle hum as the door slid open and a little scutter whirred in, carrying a steaming mug on it's flat back. Jarvis rescued the drink before the tiny wheeled robot ran into the side of the bed (it was known to happen – it shared programming with Dummy) and put it on the bedside table, well aware that in his current state Tony wouldn't allow him to pass it. Stark slowly extracted a hand from the blankets and wrapped his fingers around the handle of the mug. The smell of hot chocolate wafted up and he managed a small smile, ignoring the fact that his hand was still badly shaking.

"Is anyone else awake yet?"

"Mr Rodgers, Doctor Banner and Miss Evelyn, Sir."

"What the hell is Evie doing up at this time in the morning?"

"She never went to sleep. At my last check she was still playing Call of Duty in the games room."

"All night?! Why the hell didn't you tell me?!" Tony wiped a hand across his face again, glaring at Jarvis. "She can't stay up all night, she's only fourteen!"

"You stayed up far longer than a night at her age, and in any case she is fifteen in a couple of months."

"Urgh, don't remind me." The man took a small sip, grimaced as he burnt his tongue, then took another one anyway. "Well…yeah, I guess one night won't hurt her." He took a heavy breath. "Jeeze…"

"Do you wish to talk about it, Sir?"

"Not really. My husband has just gone off to fight a war on an alien planet against an unknown assailant. What do you think I was dreaming of?" He drained the mug, despite the scalding temperature, and gingerly placed it back on the table. "There's enough shit going on here without it spilling over onto other planets – or realms, whatever." Still clutching at the blankets he swung his legs over the side of the bed and fished around for his slippers. "You said Evie's on CoD?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Well, tell her to stick on something good and I'll join her."

"Of course, Sir."

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"Here."

Evie was half-buried in the bean bag she was slumped on, staring at the wall-sized screen that now showed Mario Cart. She didn't even turn to look at her Father, let alone greet him properly and simply threw the other controller in his vague direction.

"Thanks." Tony fell into the other beanbag that had been dragged into place. The air-con had been set to max which would have made it pretty chilly to be in just his pyjamas so he was grateful that he'd dragged the bedsheets with him. Likewise Evie was bundled up in a blanket. Logic would have said just turn the air-con off, but neither were exactly thinking logically.

Easily an hour passed before they were disturbed by Bruce bearing two plates stacked high with pancakes.

"How much did either of you sleep last night?"

"Few hours." Tony replied, not looking away from the screen.

"I didn't." Evie lifted a can of Red Bull up without tearing her gaze away.

Bruce rolled his eyes and signalled Jarvis to hit the power. Both Stark's protested loudly as the screen died, taking their game with it.

"Food, both of you, now." He dumped a plate on each respective lap and threw some cutlery at them. "Eat. Honestly, what is it about the Stark genetics that makes you self-destruct the moment life throws a curve-ball?"

Tony glanced at his daughter. "I have a feeling it's not just my genetics that do that." The girl shrugged, her mouth already full of pancake and syrup.

"Thith ith not good for my diet."

"Don't talk with your mouth full. And you aren't on a diet; you're just supposed to be eating healthier."

Evie held up a forkful of dripping pancake. "Thith ith healfy?"

"Healthy enough if you've pulled an all-nighter." Bruce pulled over the bean-bag that leaked polystyrene everywhere, and sat down on it. "You two are both ridiculous, I hope you know that."

"Eh, goes with the Stark territory." Tony pushed his own breakfast around the plate, his appetite not rising to the challenge.

The Doctor sighed and ran a hand down his face. "Well, you can't keep doing this. Either of you. These are dangerous times and apparently shit keeps on happening. If you two can't get yourselves sorted I'm pulling in a proper counsellor."

Tony winced. "Ouch. Now there's a threat."

"I mean it. Now eat up; there are more out there if you want more; Steve made too many."

Evie slurped up the last of her pancakes. "Excellent! Although it's not like him to mis-calculate."

Bruce shrugged. "Eh, he thought there'd be more of us, but Tasha and Sam went out last night and still haven't reappeared."

"Are they alright?!" The girl looked so alarmed that both men had to laugh.

"Oh Birdy, how did someone like me raise someone so innocent?" Tony gasped.

"What?...Oh…Oh. Auntie Tasha and Sam? Really?"

Bruce smiled. "I think it's safe to say Sam's been smitten from the get-go. I can't comment on Tasha's commitment, so we may or may not have a heartbroken Falcon on our hands a few weeks down the line. According to Clint, Widow can go through men quite quickly."

"I like Sam, I hope things work out with them." Evie put her plate down and made grabby-hands for the controller that was slightly out of her reach. Tony pushed it even further away with his foot.

"Go and get some sleep, Birdy."

"But-"

"Now."

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It took nearly a week for Evie to start sleeping properly again and Tony didn't manage it at all. The sleeping pills Bruce allowed him didn't do much good and his calm-me-down music routine only did so much in terms of keeping the nightmares away.

The worst bit about it all was how Tony had so blithely assumed that the 'worry about Loki' phase of his life was over. He had spent so long in that limbo state of not knowing if the trickster was alive or dead that it was a depressingly familiar feeling to sink back into. That constant carousel of thoughts that always spiralled down to 'what if he's dead?' He had assumed those thoughts were gone; foolishly supposed that there was no need for them anymore. And now they were back.

And this time they had the mental imagery to go along with them.

How Loki had looked when they'd found him in that God-forsaken hell hole. Blind, mute, deaf and broken. A shell of a man. The images were insistent and insidious, creeping into his consciousness. The skeletal thin body, the severed hand and broken twisted bones. An overactive imagination was not what Tony wanted at this point.

And that wasn't even the half of it! Thor's story of what had happened to the two princes as prisoners of war still haunted Tony's nightmares. That other races who considered themselves so above mankind still treated captives as spoils of war was beyond him. It was mediaeval; treating a prisoner as a play-thing, a toy to use and break and discard on a whim.

Barbaric.

After they passed two weeks Tony began talking about trying to get in contact with Asgard. By a month he actually flew down to the Bifrost site and shouted blue murder at Heimdall for a while. There wasn't an answer, but it made him feel that at least he had tried.

It came as almost a blessing when Coulson started getting in contact again. Admittedly it sounded like he and his team had been through hell and back, but were slowly getting back on track in their own little battle against Hydra. There was little the Avengers could do to actually help out with them, since they had their own Hydra issues to deal with, but it was heartening to be reminded that they weren't the only ones out there on the battle-field.

And Merlin actually bothered to stay in touch – sneering and dismissive of anything Tony tried to tell him, but there was still an email or two every week, which was something.

Also, not that Tony was really made aware of it, Evie's personal self-development project was progressing nicely. Her general fitness hadn't really had time to show a marked improvement but her theory and knowledge-base were certainly expanding. However, that didn't mean the girl was as indestructible as she now seemed to see herself.

Tony was in Bruce's lab with the mild-mannered scientist looking through the signal patterns again when the localised alarm went off in the room.

"Sir, Miss Evelyn has been injured, although she has ordered me not to tell you that."

"What? What happened? Is she alright?!"

"She has completely forbidden me to tell you that she has broken two ribs and fractured her wrist. Oh, and possibly trashed half the lab. I am especially forbidden to tell you that."

Tony dropped his head with a groan. "Oh for fucks sake." He levered himself out of his chair and pulled at Bruce's arm. "Come on, she's going to be ridiculously embarrassed. And furious. Bloody furious. How wrecked is my lab, Jarv?"

"A mess, but nothing important lost."

Tony bundled his fellow scientist into the elevator. "What's she doing right now? Is she stable?"

"I've sorted her arm out and we are currently arguing about the fact that I have alerted you to the problem."

"And her ribs?" Bruce pushed Stark away. "Broken-broken, or fractured?"

"Hair-line fractures, but you wouldn't know it the way she's carrying on."

Tony thumped his fist against the wall of the lift with a snarl. "What the hell, Jarvis?! You were meant to be looking after her!"

"She needs to learn from her mistakes, sir. I recall allowing you to smash into a few walls too."

"And just what has she learnt from breaking three bones?!"

"Exactly as much as you did when you broke five and the Jaguar." Jarvis shot back immediately. Bruce snorted slightly, then tried to hide it when Tony glared at him. The elevator was nearing the lab floor and Jarvis announced as such.

"Have you x-rayed the injuries?" Bruce tried to get the subject away from an argument and back on track.

"Of course, Dr Banner, I am not that incompetent." The barb was obviously aimed at Tony who scowled. "Hence how I know that all the fractures are hairline. I have splinted her arm, but not plastered."

"I'll sort that."

The lift dinged and Tony barely let the doors begin to open before he squeezed his way out and ran into the main body of the lab. He wasn't quite sure what to expect, but as Jarvis had said it wasn't as bad as it could have been.

There was paperwork and fabric (origins unknown, he didn't usually keep fabric down there) everywhere, and some plaster which must have come from the Evie-sized dent in the wall. The girl herself was sat on the same camp bed Tony had once patched Loki up on, having a blazing row with Jarvis as he fussed over her arm. When she saw Tony the anger on her face only increased.

"I'm fine! For fucks sake Jarvis! I told you! It's just a bump! And you can fuck off too!" She added as Tony marched up to her. "I'm fine!"

"Yeah, of course you are." He could have gone in all guns blazing - being sworn at by his fourteen year old wasn't the best way to put Tony in a good mood - but the tears on her cheeks, and the pain she was trying to hide made him try for sympathy first. He simply sat down beside her and slung an arm round her shoulders. "What the hell were you doing, kiddo?"

The word 'nothing' was evidently on the tip of Evie's tongue, but when she looked around at the mess, not to mention her injuries, she shrugged slightly instead. "I miscalculated." She muttered sulkily. "Jarvis warned me, but I didn't listen."

"Miscalculated what?"

She nodded towards the large turbine set up at one end of the lab. Tony had it for those rare occasions that he needed to test the suit's aerodynamics, but hadn't had it out in a while. The blades were still spinning idly.

"I set it too high and it threw me into the wall."

Tony stared at it in confusion, then looked back at his daughter. "Okay, what? What were you doing with it?"

"Does it matter? I made a mistake and paid the price!" The anger – which hadn't had chance to go very far – came straight back and she shrugged Tony's arm off. The movement was accompanied with a wince as she hugged her wrist – neatly bandaged – tight against her stomach.

"Can we leave the 'how' for a moment, and work on the 'what'?" Bruce asked quietly. He had raided the small but fully-stocked medicine cabinet and found the fracture kit stored there. The Avengers had long been making use of one of Stark Industries less-weaponised patents; fracture repair gel strips. Jarvis had already x-rayed Evie's wrist, since a hand-held x-ray device was also hardly beyond Stark's capabilities and again the Avengers had been using them for years, and the images confirmed that her ulna had fractured, but luckily not misaligned.

Bruce simply broke the small packs open and wrapped the wet gel sheets – blue, but otherwise similar to gelatine cooking sheets in appearance – around Evie's arm. They created a very thin, very light-weight cast around the limb that a few moments later had air-dried, leaving her arm held immobile from wrist to elbow.

"I don't have to have that on my ribs too, do I?"

"No, you just get a handful of painkillers and a bit of a life lesson for them."

Evie pouted – evidently that wasn't the answer she'd actually wanted – they must have been hurting quite a bit.

"What about your head? Did you hit your head?" Bruce persisted. He glanced at Jarvis when the droid affected an annoyed cough. "What?"

"As if I would allow her to do anything remotely dangerous without a helmet!" He held up a modified Ironman helmet, made to fit Evie and without a faceplate. There was a large scuff mark down one side of it. "If nothing else, her head is fine."

Tony snorted. "Well, I don't know about that.

"Wow, thanks Dad." Evie elbowed him, and since the gel-sheets had hardened around her wrist it meant she could apply quite a bit of power, even if it ended with a sharp spike of pain up her arm. "Ow!"

"Hate to say it, but you shouldn't use it like that." Bruce slipped a sling over the teenagers head and carefully lifted her broken arm into it. "There. No using it as a weapon, no using it at all it you can, you'll need to put a special covering over it when you shower and painkillers every four hours."

Evie groaned, and then winced and hugged her usable arm around her ribs. "When's Möðhy coming home?! He'd just magic me better!"

"I know Birdy, but sometimes a guy's just gotta go space-viking all over another planet."

Evie rolled her eyes. "I believe the politics surrounding the situation are a little more complicated than that." She glanced up at her father's sceptical look, then sighed. "Okay, yeah, space-viking. He's totally gone space-viking on us."

"Could be worse, could be space-cowboy." Bruce added mildly.

"Ooh, pop-culture reference, see what you did there Banner." Tony grinned at the doctor, whilst Evie smiled slightly, tucking into his side. He glanced down at her. "Hey, you alright? Looking a little green about the gills."

"I feel a bit sick actually…" She did look a bit pale; that sort of ashen grey that usually meant a person was about to throw up or faint.

"That would be the shock setting in." Bruce said with a sympathetic smile. "Nothing a rest, some TV and a large mug of tea won't sort out."

Evie wrinkled her nose. "British tea, or that pond water you like?"

"I'm sure we've still got some Yorkshire Blend squirrelled away from Pepper's last trip to London; I'll see if I can find some." The doctor started putting the unused medical bits and pieces back in their box and Tony hugged his daughter again, mindful of her broken ribs.

"We need to discuss what you've been doing down here, kiddo. You've been lucky this time; this could have been a whole lot worse."

"Later? I'm really not feeling good."

And she wasn't looking it either. Tony sighed and conceded that later would be fine.

As it was, the painkillers didn't quite take enough of the edge off, and after Evie struggled with dinner and actually did throw up afterwards Bruce prescribed bed-rest for the next two days at least. The fact that the girl didn't even argue the order spoke volumes about how monumentally crap she was feeling. Tony helped her upstairs and into bed – an extremely embarrassing episode for the both of them since she struggled to put her pyjamas on properly with her broken arm – and they stuck a film on.

"Dad, do you think Möðhy will be back for my birthday?" Evie was snuggled up under her duvet, head on Tony's shoulder where he sat next to her on top of the covers.

"I don't know, Birdy. I hope so."

"He'd better be. It'll be the first one since getting him back. I'd been so looking forward to it…"

"I know." Tony nudged her gently with his shoulder. "And just what do you think he's going to say when he sees what you've done to yourself?"

"Yeah…" The girl grimaced. "There goes all my training too. I won't be in the gym any time soon like this."

"Oh I don't know, have a chat with Bruce – he probably knows some yoga you could manage whilst you're an invalid."

"Mmm, maybe."

"Are you still feeling sick?"

"Kinda. More sleepy than sick now. And everything hurts."

Tony laughed. "Now do you see why we said you needed me present if you were going to start testing stuff?"

"You know, you've managed to say 'I told you so' quite a few times now, without ever actually saying those words."

"Call it a knack. On a heads up, lying on the opposite side to the broken ribs is the least painful position to try to sleep in."

Evie smirked slightly. "Voice of experience?"

"Yup." Tony tapped the arc reactor. "Most of mine were broken to install this thing."

"You've never actually told me that story in full."

"Not exactly a bed-time story."

"Dad, we're watching Silence of the Lambs! Not exactly prime fairy-tale material either." Evie nudged him with her elbow. "Come on, I know about Möðhy's genocidal tendencies; it's about time I heard of your less-than-pleasant back story in your own words. I mean – I've heard it all from everyone else anyway, it's nothing new."

"Yeah, but still…"

Evie snuggled under the duvet properly. "Come on, bed time story; How Dad Got Himself Blown Up and Kidnapped By Terrorists. Better than anything Hans Christian whatsisface wrote!"

"It's not a nice story."

"Sure it is; it ends with you falling in love with a homicidal maniac who tried to blow up New York. How could anything be more romantic?"

"You have skewed views of romance."

"Kinda your fault, not mine."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Fine." He leant back against the head board. "You know I used to be the world's leading weapon's designer, right?"

"Uh huh."

"Well, I'd make stuff and sell it on the military – the usual thing – and I'd developed this great missile launcher. Absolute beauty; called her the Jericho and I went to Afghan to sell her to our boys out there." He shrugged lightly. "And it went down really well, they seemed happy about it and we were going back to the main camp and…well, the convoy blew up."

"Weren't you in armoured trucks? Or whatever they used back then?"

"It wasn't that long ago! Yes, we were in armoured trucks, but there's little you can do about an IED under your wheels. It blew up the front truck, and the guys in my truck went to help and…"

"And…" Evie prompted.

"And they all got shot. I left the truck – stupid really, but I thought that I was dead either way – and tried to call for back-up. A missile landed right next to me, a missile that had my bloody logo all over it, and it went off in my face."

"Didn't you think to wear Kevlar?"

Tony snorted. "Course I did! It doesn't do squat at that distance – I got a chest full of shrapnel, one hell of a concussion and an introduction to life as a hostage."

"Fun times."

The story lasted a good hour or so – mostly because Evie kept interrupting – but they covered the main points of Tony's stay with the Five Rings, Yinsen, the reactor, Obie and the ensuing development of Ironman. A little bit of Banner's story was thrown in for good measure, some of Thor's exploits as a human and Tony's run-in with Vanko.

"You know, if you wrote this all down or told someone it'd make one hell of a movie. Maybe even more than one."

"Eh, they wouldn't be able to cast someone cool enough to be me."

"Or arrogant enough."

"Or that."

Evie smirked.

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The next morning was one of the first in a month or so when the girl didn't force herself to get up and go to the gym. Whilst she didn't really want to follow the bed-rest rule, she was at least in agreement with a long lie-in. This meant that quite a few members of the team suddenly found themselves with a morning off instead of keeping an eye on her training and so they relished in some quality time with their hobbies.

"You know, anime's lost its mystery since I got Allspeech." Clint groused.

"Anime? Isn't that what Evie watches?" Steve looked up from his magazine to see the archer scowling at the large-screen TV.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, Evie watches some of the more popular shows but she's lazy and sticks to the dubs. I always like to read the subtitles and hear the original Japanese." He threw the remote down on the sofa with a loud 'humph' of disappointment. "Where's the fun if I'm not spending every other moment thinking that I recognise words and am therefore learning Japanese when I actually don't have a clue?!"

"I don't understand the problem here."

"Asgard ruined my anime!" Clint slumped back in the sofa, glaring at the TV screen as if it had personally offended him. Steve eyed him with a smirk.

"I don't get what the attraction is of the story line anyway. It's a bunch of child Ninja's, and you know the blonde kid is going to win at the end of the day and become village leader or whatever you call it anyway."

"It's called escapism, Rodgers."

"It's called predictable plot-lines."

"Well what do you want on?!"

Steve eagerly grabbed the remote and switched the channel to find an episode of Law and Order. It received a loud complaint from Clint, but the archer didn't bother to change it back. As predictability went it was still pretty obvious what was going to happen but it usually made for some entertaining arguments as people tried to guess the killer in the first five minutes.

As it was they managed to get a good half hour into the episode (and had both changed their minds at least three times over the murderer) before Natasha wandered into the room with her StarkPad in hand.

"Hey guys, Coulson's on the line." Without bothering to wait for their replies she flicked the screen of the tablet and the video feed was moved from the StarkPad to the TV screen. Law and Order disappeared and Coulson's face flickered into view. He looked like he was on board an aircraft of some sort, and his team members were bustling around in the background.

"Hey Phil, How's it going?" Steve's greeting was cheerful, but his smile slipped at Coulson's grim expression. "What?"

"Both your Gods still off-planet?"

"Yeah, what's happened? You look like…well, you look like hell."

Coulson glanced back over his shoulder at the people behind him, his frown momentarily slipping into something much more broken before the mask slammed back into place. "Shit's been happening. Hydra's not an easy fight."

Natasha looked like she'd already heard this part of the conversation, so it was left to Clint and Steve to ask for details. The Director didn't tell them much, although it was obvious they'd come up against some bad stuff, and instead pushed for details about what the Avenger's had been doing. And not in a good way.

"So no big hits recently?"

Steve shook his head. "The last few places we had a look at were all inner city Shield Bolt-holes and we found nothing. No sign that Hydra had bothered with them, no useful files lying around, absolute waste of bloody time really. Why? What's this about?"

"Some of Shield's largest and supposedly most secure facilities have been broken into and destroyed recently."

"We haven't heard anything about that."

Coulson laughed grimly. "Sure you have, you just didn't recognise them for what they were. There was that industrial fire in Chicago, an explosion at a British power plant, a Norwegian oil rig fire. Quite a few incidences that made the news."

"Those were Shield bases?"

"They had been. We knew Hydra had taken them, but they were large and would have been heavily armed with a lot of personnel. We don't have the man-power, and sending you guys in would have been way too conspicuous so we left them for the time being."

Clint frowned slightly. "So are you saying someone else got in and took them out? Who? Is there another team out there? More Shield agents?"

"You tell me; we've broken contact with the old network, you and Nat are the only agents we're still FaceBook friends with."

Natasha shrugged, sinking down to sit on the arm of the sofa next to Steve. "My contacts – those that are left that is – haven't said a thing. And believe me, none of them are likely to team up." Clint nodded in agreement.

"We're not entirely certain it is a team." Phil added.

"A person going solo couldn't have managed that. Well, Steve or Tony might manage it, or Banner on one of his bad days, but Nat or I couldn't take out a whole base of that size on our own. Even together it would be tough." Clint glanced at Natasha as he said this and she looked like she concurred.

"Well if it's not you guys we don't know who or what is doing it, but they're not happy, whoever they are. I mean, they didn't even stop to clear out any useful stuff – just blew the places sky high."

"Anger management issues then."

"Something like that."

Steve shrugged. "Well, we can keep an eye out, but it's no-one we know and both Thor and Loki are still in Alfheim so it's neither of them."

Coulson looked extremely sceptical at that statement. "And you can completely verify that Loki's not been ducking back between battles to let off a little steam?"

"Given that Evie managed to break three bones yesterday and he's not rushed to her side yet I'd say it's pretty certain he's not been making sneak visits to Earth."

"Huh. Well he was my main suspicion, so there goes that theory."

Natasha chuckled quietly. "Is that why you asked me not to let Stark in on this conversation?"

"He seems a little territorial about his husband; I thought I wouldn't break up the happy family thing just yet."

"Yet?"

Coulson lifted an eyebrow. "I don't like Loki, and I certainly don't trust him. He may not be behind these Hydra take-downs after all, but that doesn't mean I'm not still waiting for him to show his true colours."

Since it was a viable view for the Director to take no-one said anything. Loki had killed him to be fair, and that's the sort of grudge that doesn't exactly fade away. Still, yeah, probably best not to let Tony know about all that.

Coulson signed off with a request that they keep their eyes open and then the three sat back and looked at each other blankly.

"Well…I got a whole big bag of nothing." Clint said with a shrug. "Either of you?"

"It sounds like another government has started sending in teams, I guess." Steve leant his elbows on his knees and rested his chin on his cupped hands. "I mean, we're running around here cleaning up for Shield, which is technically an American organisation; what's to say there aren't other similar set-ups elsewhere in the world? Maybe it's the Chinese sending in one of their top teams to take out what they assume we can't or won't. Or maybe it's MI5. Who knows?"

"Or maybe it's some lone weirdo gone solo; we know we aren't the only super-charged freaks around – someone else may have decided to let loose and take out some Hydra goons as a bit of stress relief." Clint said fairly.

"Maybe. I've still got a contact or two; I'll send out feelers and see what's what." Natasha kicked the archer lightly with her foot. "And you?"

The man shrugged, then rolled his eyes when Steve turned on him too. "I guess I can call out some old favours over-seas. Someone may know something. I would have thought whoever's doing this would need to source kit, finance travel, eat, sleep. Crap like that."

Natasha patted him on the shoulder as she stood up, back to working on her tablet again. "You do that." She moved over to the other sofa at right angles to the two men. "First one to get some info wins."

Clint grinned.

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Evie couldn't stay put for long – even with Bruce telling her to take it easy – which led to Tony having no choice but to ban her from the lab. By dinner time she was scratching at the walls in boredom to the extent that she offered to cook. Given that her culinary skills were non-existent this meant that Jarvis had to shadow her around the kitchen with a cookery book. The fridge wasn't exactly fully stocked but there was enough in there to make a pretty decent attempt at spaghetti bolognaise and it wasn't so hard that Evie couldn't manage it.

It took an industrial sized pot to hold enough pasta for all of the Avengers and the girl had to use a wok to cook up all the mince and sauce. This was why they usually called for take-out; feeding the full group, plus Evie herself, Pepper on occasion and other drop-bys like Rhodes was an undertaking that required military precision and usually enough food for a small army. Jarvis speed-grated an entire block of parmesan cheese and they managed to get the whole lot ready in under two hours – a feat considering how long it took the meat to brown.

"Thif id acdually really good." Clint managed around a mouthful.

"You doubted my masterful attempts at cookery?"

"Nod ad all."

Steve nodded enthusiastically. "He's right. Once you pull the burnt bits out it's really good!"

"There aren't any burnt bits!" Evie snapped. She was right, but only because Jarvis had kept a very close eye on the pot.

"Of course not." Tony said soothingly. "And we all appreciate a proper home-cooked meal for once."

"I cook proper food!" Steve tried to look indignant, but his laugh made it all too clear he wasn't being serious. "Or do you guys not count cottage pie or beef roast?"

"You could already cook; Evie's still learning and as a first attempt this isn't half bad."

The good-natured teasing was light enough that the girl could accept it without argument and she simply smiled and continued eating. It may also have had something to do with the high-end painkillers she was on too, of course.

"Did you try making a pudding too, or are we scavenging in the freezer for Ben & Jerrys?" Pepper tried to bring the conversation back to something more amiable.

"Oh sure." Evie waved her fork around with her non-broken arm. "Jarvis and I found a great cheesecake recipe; it's in the fridge, cooling down. Chilli chocolate."

"Sounds great."

"You're just saying that." The girl smirked slightly. "Don't think I didn't see that wince; you're already trying not to think about how much chilli I might have stuck in there."

Pepper shrugged elegantly. "Maybe a little."

The mention of dessert seemed to spur everyone else on and the conversation dropped as they began finishing off what was left in the main serving bowl. With the lack of talk it was easier to hear the rain lashing against the windows and the city sounds filtering up from the streets below, all car horns and engines humming along. Being so high up in the tower they never bothered to draw the blinds since it wasn't like anyone could see in and the view was – as always – rather spectacular.

Or would have been without the rivulets of water running down the panes.

"Is it just me, or was that thunder?" Clint asked.

"Not unusual for this time of year, it's still only early September."

"Yeah…but it was forecast clear skies all night."

Even as the others shrugged at the comment there was a second rumble, much louder and much closer that shook the windows in their panes. Lightning flashed and lit the room in glaring white light for a brief moment.

"You can't tell me that's normal." The archer's words were nearly drowned out by another bang, this time less thunder and more a direct cacophony out on the balcony. If anything it sounded similar to the Bifrost…

More light flooded the room, flashing bright before fading away and leaving a painful after-glow on people's retinas. The din subsided, leaving lashing rain and – most impossibly – horse's hooves on the tiled floor of the balcony.

"What the hell?!"

It was debatable who got there first, but it was definitely Steve who wrestled with the wind to wrench the sliding doors open, letting in a freezing gust that blasted them all with hail. It was pitch black, and it didn't help that the bright light had just killed any night vision they may have had, but Jarvis quickly raised the balcony lights.

"Holy shit!" Everyone was thinking it, but it was Evie who put voice to the emotion.

Sleipnir was skittering around, hooves slipping in every direction on the wet tiles as he whinnied and shied. Loki was on foot next to him, struggling to keep him calm.

"What's going on?!" Tony yelled above the storm, only for his husband to entirely ignore him and turn to Captain America instead.

"Rodgers, I need your assistance!"

If for a moment it was unclear what he was talking about, it was made very clear when Sleipnir swung in a tight panicked circle again, revealing Thor's unconscious form draped over his back. With Steve's help Loki managed to carefully pull him down, jostling the large God as little as possible. There was a large swath of blood stained bandages around Thor's chest and his head lolled limply to one side as his brother and Captain America quickly carried him into the living room. Loki's hands were flashing between Aesir and Jötunn, his own armour filthy and mangled although he didn't seem to pay any heed to it as his frantic gaze took in his brother's state.

Trying to keep out of the way, Evie ran over to where Sleipnir was still freaking out. He'd already succeeded in tangling his reins around one of his front legs and was getting perilously close to the glass partition that surrounded the balcony.

"Hey, hey, what the hell, Sleip?!" The girl grabbed at his mane, so that although she couldn't hope to pull against him she could at least direct him away from glass. "Oi! Calm the fuck down!"

"It's high! It's high! I don't like it!" Sleipnir swung around again, but this time buried his face in the girl's shoulder.

"What do you – are you scared of heights?!"

"Yes! I don't even like moderately large hills!"

Well that made sense at least – how many horses usually ended up the top of a skyscraper the size of Stark Tower? Sleipnir may well have seen most of human history and various interesting points in time on other realms, but there was little reason that he would have ever been up high in the air other than on a mountain.

"Okay, okay. Calm down and keep your eyes closed; I'm going to lead you inside." Evie had her broken arm hugged tight against her chest to keep it out of harm's way, but used her free hand to grab Sleipnir's mane. The huge horse kept his head tucked in against the girl's shoulder as he let her guide him across the balcony and through the large partition doors.

Inside was chaos with Thor laid out on the huge sofa and Bruce and Loki working frantically over him. Silver armour was scattered all over the floor – most of it rent and blood stained – which was getting in the way as Jarvis brought up medical supplies and other accoutrements.

"What the hell happened?" Evie dragged Sleipnir into the corner by the bar so that they were out of the way.

"Battle. A battle happened. Do you have any water?"

"Uh…" Evie looked around then spotted the large fruit bowl on the bar counter. Emptying the apples and bananas out she took it over to the tap and began filling it. "So, battle. And? What happened?"

"Lots of people died; that's generally what happens." Sleipnir barely waited for his sister to set the bowl down on the counter-top before burying his nose in it.

"Yeah, I got that, douche-bag. I meant what happened? Are you hurt? Was Möðhy hurt?"

"Yes, and yes. But not as bad as Thor."

Evie rolled her eyes and pulled a dishcloth out from one of the bar cupboards. Grabbing a bottle of Glenfiddich she soaked the cloth through and began to clean off the blood that streaked Sleipnir's flanks.

"You're making me smell like a brewery."

"Deal with it."

"Your Dad's going to kill you for wasting his whisky like that."

"It's not like he can't afford more." The girl stated grimly. There was a large gash running down Sleipnir's front leg and he flinched when the alcohol stung. "Since you're totally in a talkative mood why don't you tell me how this happened?"

"You sound like my mother. Well, actually, no you don't. You sound like a stereotypical mother should sound." Sleipnir said grumpily. "If anything, I'm rather blaming my mother for ending up like this."

Evie snorted with laughter. "I thought Afi Odin rode you into battle."

"He did, but he actually prefers to fight on foot which usually means I get to kick arse on my own terms after he gets fed up with being on horse-back." Sleipnir pushed the empty bowl away with his nose and looked round to see what his sister was up to. "And then Möðhy's horse was shot out from under him so we teamed up."

"Fun times."

"Indeed. Ow! Can't you just use water?"

"Alcohol's antiseptic." Evie glanced over at where everyone else was swarming over Thor, only for Sleipnir to nudge her and grab her attention back.

"He will be alright, you don't need to worry."

"I've never seen him injured before. Not like this."

Evie's thoughts were being unknowingly echoed by the other Avenger's as they watched Bruce try to patch up their friend and comrade. Thor was the strong one. Immortal, a God, someone who never needed to worry too much about being injured since he always seemed to be healed by the time they got home.

And now he lay unmoving on the sofa where they had placed him, ashen grey except for where blood had spattered. With the armour removed it was much easier for Bruce to access the gaping wound across the God's chest and stomach and he was busily directing Jarvis to get certain things ready in the medical unit whilst he tried to keep Thor stable.

Loki was looking like hell, but underneath the plastered muck and blood his face was a mask of grim determination as he followed Bruce's lead, never letting up on the compress pressed against Thor's chest. It was hard to tell what sort of state he was in, the blood he was coated in may well have been his own as easily as it could have been anyone else's, but he looked exhausted. On top of whatever had happened in the battle, Loki must have been keeping Thor alive all the way back to Earth, which begged the question…

"Why the hell didn't you take him to Asgard?! Surely they could heal him better than us!" Tony snapped.

"He insisted we came here." Loki barely looked up at his husband. "And I wasn't going to argue. There have been…developments, and you needed to be told."

"Developments worth risking Thor's life?"

"His choice, not mine." The trickster's gaze moved from the sluggish rise and fall of his brother's chest to Bruce. "I told him he needed Aesir help, but he wouldn't listen. I brought him myself because the stupid oaf was going to drag himself to the Bifrost otherwise and that would have killed him."

Bruce's expression clearly stated that Thor had nearly managed to kill himself anyway. "Well, the bleeding's slowing, and he's breathing easier. We can safely move him down to the med-unit at least. What the hell even did this amount of damage anyway? A human would have been sliced in half."

Loki's posture visibly relaxed at the affirmation of his brother's health, but he shrugged in response to the question. "I did not see it happen. Sleipnir and I found him barely conscious and he insisted that we came to Earth. There were any number of weapons that might have done it." Concern flashed across his face again. "Why? Do you think the wound is poisoned?"

"No, no, it's clean. Just a strange shape."

"Oh." The trickster switched his attention back to his husband for a moment. "How long were we gone? For us it was about a fortnight, but I can never convert times very well from one realm to the next –"

"Nearly two months. You've been gone nearly two months."

"Nearly two…" Absolute horror filled Loki's eyes and he rose to his feet. "Have I missed-?"

"No, her birthday's next week."

"Oh thank Norns…" Again the tension draining away was a visible thing and Loki had to reach out and grab Tony's shoulder to stay steady.

"Yeah, how about we worry about that when you're not at the point of collapse."

"I'm not going to collapse, Stark!" Loki glanced back over his shoulder as Jarvis and Bruce lifted Thor onto the gurney that Jarvis had brought up, ready to take him to the medical bay. However, as he moved to follow them Tony caught his arm.

"Nah uh uh, You're staying put and we're sorting you out. You look like hell."

"But I have to-"

"Loki!" Tony swung the taller man back round to face him, holding him tight by both upper arms. "Hey! Breath! Calm down, power off and breath, okay?"

"I…what?""

"You're home, Thor is safe, you and Sleipnir are safe, so you can turn off and power down, okay soldier boy?"

Loki merely blinked at him for a moment or so, but gradually Tony's words seemed to filter in and he nodded slightly.

"Come on, let's sit you down, patch you up and get some food and drink into you. Sound like a plan?" Stark didn't let his husband really process the statement, steering him over to the other sofa that wasn't covered in blood and sitting him down in no short order. He didn't give Loki a moment to really work out what was going on and simply started to carefully unbuckle the straps to various pieces of the trickster's armour.

"Tony…"

"Yeah, give me a second to get all this crap off you." The bracers fell away and Tony moved on to removing the various plates and such that protected Loki's shoulders and chest. Quite a few of them were dented out of shape and some had been ripped clean through by God-knows-what which made them somewhat difficult to untangle from the ripped tunic underneath. When Loki stirred himself enough to attempt to help Tony simply batted his hands away. "No, just keep still, I've got this." He looked up and smiled slightly at his husband. "Seriously. You look like crap."

That drew a small chuckle from the trickster as he nodded and allowed the man to continue fussing. "Tony, I am perfectly capable at taking off my own armour."

"Yeah, yeah. Sure you are. But you've just come back from the battle-field; your brother's injured, you're injured and exhausted and I haven't seen you for two months. Let me at least help you get the tin-can bits and pieces off, yeah?"

"They are not a-"

"Sure, but 'ceremonial, fancy as fuck gold shit' takes too long to say."

"…That it does." The trickster managed to put up with his husband's efforts long enough for Tony to peel all the pieces of armour away, revealing the bloodstained tunic and undershirt.

"Hey Möðhy, that looks nasty." Evie had approached them slowly and from her expression it was obvious she wanted nothing more than to hug Loki, but was holding back out of concern for his injuries.

Loki smiled up at her, but only for a brief moment before it slipped into horror and he jumped back to his feet hurriedly. "What happened to your arm?! Was there another attack?!"

"What? No, no, no." Evie waved her free hand wildly. "No, I was an idiot down in the lab. It's just my wrist and some ribs."

"Just? There's no just about broken bones, young lady!"

The girl actually laughed, although extremely sarcastically. "Like you can talk! You're covered in blood and can't stand up straight! Lecture me when you're not walking wounded, yeah?"

Loki simply blinked at her, stunned. "What..?"

"Well…y'know. You're hardly in any state to lecture me about being injured."

"I was in a battle. There is a significant difference." Loki moved to take his daughter's arm, to assess what had happened but she stepped back out of his reach. "Evelyn…"

"No, it's fine for now. Uncle Bruce has sorted it and the last thing you need is to patch up even more people's injuries. If you're less of a mess tomorrow I might let you have a look."

The trickster raised an eyebrow, then glanced at Tony. "I still struggle with the vernacular at times. Is this what you American's call sass?"

"Nah, that's what we call Evie being a little shit." Tony ruffled their daughter's hair as she grinned smugly.

"Yeah, so how injured are you?" Evie added. "Because I want a hug, but I don't want to break you."

Loki laughed, brighter and more honest. "Darling, if you wanted a hug you just needed to say so, it will not kill me."

Tony stepped back to leave his partner and daughter to have a moment and almost backed into Sleipnir, who instantly draped his head over the man's shoulder.

"Hey."

"Hey. Should I question the fact that there's an eight legged horse in my tower?"

"Probably best if you refrain from questions like that."

Stark laughed and reached up to pat the warm neck that hooked over his shoulder. "Missed you, buddy. And is there a reason you smell of fine single malt?"

"Evie cleaned me up with one of your best. She claimed it was antiseptic."

"Huh, well, so's rubbing alcohol, but what the hell." Tony turned and looked the horse up and down. There were a considerable number of scrapes and gashes dotted along Sleipnir's grey coat, but nothing severely dangerous or painful. "Are you alright? And no bullshitting, I can always tell bullshit, even from a horse."

"I am fine. I am not seriously hurt, just a few flesh wounds and a lame leg. I have had much worse in my time. It is Fraendi Thor I worry for."

"Bruce will patch him up, He'll be fine. Has Loki been healing him since you left Alfheim?"

"Pretty much. He was near unconsciousness when Möðhy found him and we brought him straight here." Sleipnir glanced over at Loki. "And Möðhy's exhausted from battle too, these past two weeks have taken a lot out of all of us."

"Was it that awful? I thought you guys were all crazy about the blood and the warfare and stuff."

"Yes, well…You need to talk to Möðhy."

"Oh?" Tony frowned. "Why?" He turned back to face his husband, who was now sat back on the sofa. "What's happened? I thought big impressive battles were the norm for you lot? What was so bad about this one?"

Loki looked up at him, tired, dirty, wounded and a fortnight's worth the horror of war still written across his face. When he spoke it was a certain amount of tightness and finality, as if he couldn't quite believe his own words.

"We lost. Alfheim has been destroyed."

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