This has been a long time coming.
That is how Stark will later describe the evening's events to Vision: that this is a defining moment in their journey together. That all this had been building for a while and was entirely expected.
It doesn't make it any easier to witness.
Vision of course does not see it all first hand. At the beginning, he respects Stark's wishes and does not intrude, even though the unmistakable sounds of crashing furniture and raised voices echo through the house. Troubled as he is, he cannot however endure the worry without at least asking for an explanation.
After some negotiation FRIDAY describes to him the situation in loose terms, enough that Vision believes he understands the current state of things. He pictures Loki's distress in the face of some re-emerging memory; his subsequent reaction involving an unwitting demonstration of his returning abilities; the ensuing confrontation that Stark attempts patiently to steer; the resulting heightened emotions that Vision attributes to a breakdown of communication long gone unchecked.
It all concludes with one of their party inconsolable despite their collective best efforts to avoid this very outcome, and with Vision left sidelined when his every instinct commands him to intervene. It is becoming something of a pattern of late.
Vision hates that he must simply stand by while all this happens. Yet he is not insensitive to the need for discretion. Once it becomes quiet he waits for perhaps an hour, determined to respect the privacy his friends no doubt require, yet plagued by the need to offer aid and comfort. It is almost unendurable.
When he can follow Stark's directions no longer, he enters the sitting room to find it seemingly empty. It is only as he advances further into the space that he happens upon a scene otherwise hidden by the furniture arranged at the centre of the room.
The pair of them are seated haphazardly on the floor, the kitchen counter at their backs the only thing propping them upright. Loki sits with his knees drawn up against his chest, his arms wrapped around them, and stares blankly ahead with a stunned sort of look. It's a position and demeanour that's alarmingly reminiscent of not so distant days, days Vision would rather not revisit. There are tear tracks down Loki's face and a desperate exhaustion about him. He is thoroughly wrung out. He seems not to be aware of Stark pressed next to him, one hand rubbing slow circles at Loki's shoulder.
The room around them both is in some disarray. There is overturned furniture, spilled food, smashed ceramics. Even Stark appears somewhat dishevelled.
At first, Vision is not quite sure what to make of all this.
When he catches Vision's eye, Stark angles his chin significantly and mouths the word 'water'. His expression is unreadable, but he otherwise projects a patient air of calm. He seems to have fallen naturally into the role of caretaker, much as he did when acting as Loki's anchor in days past. Whether this is accidental or deliberate remains to be seen.
Vision takes his time collecting a glass from an overhead cabinet, filling it from the faucet and making his way back to his friends. He pauses only to right the toppled bar stool he passes and takes care to avoid the debris scattered across the floor. He then crouches in front of them both, and when it becomes apparent that his presence has not yet been acknowledged by the main object of his concern he passes the glass in his hand wordlessly to Stark.
Being careful not to move too quickly, Vision places his hand lightly on Loki's wrist and offers him a kind smile. This causes Loki to carefully draw his arms from Vision's reach and tuck them against his chest. Eventually he shifts his gaze to somewhere within the vicinity of Vision's face, a still somewhat distant look about him.
"You cannot be very comfortable here on the floor," Vision suggests gently.
Loki does not respond to this in any way. Vision realises his mistake and immediately revises his method of persuasion, focussing instead on the discomfort of others.
"I'm sure those of us with human joints would appreciate more forgiving support than the floor can provide."
Stark raises an eyebrow at this. "Just come at me next time," he grumbles with good-natured reproach.
The implication does seem to have some effect, at least. After a moment or two Loki moves to get his feet under him, and although he doesn't seem altogether cognizant of the result he allows Vision to steer him towards the couch at the centre of the room.
Encouraged by this small success, Vision pushes the advantage and manages to press the glass of water on his charge without argument. Stark watches on with a tight-lipped expression that gives nothing away, but which suggests he is cataloging every reaction for later dissection and analysis. He seats himself squarely next to Loki, his presence stalwart but otherwise unobtrusive.
Vision sinks again to his haunches and gives Loki a moment to collect himself. When it becomes clear that he will not offer words of his own volition, Vision prompts him as tactfully as he knows how.
"I understand there has been a significant development I have not been privy to. FRIDAY tells me it was quite the spectacle. I must say I am rather disappointed to have missed the demonstration."
He smiles, trying in vain to elicit a response to the weak humour he would evoke. The effort goes unacknowledged, his audience too preoccupied to accept such a ready out.
It is Stark who bolsters the mood, perhaps because he has had time enough to consider a strategy.
"It was super cool," Stark says, approaching the situation with the same brand of unorthodox humour as he applies to all difficult scenarios. "I am dying to know just how he does it."
"Something we would all be intrigued to learn, I am sure," Vision agrees, determined to play his part in this performance.
Loki simply shuts his eyes. He will not be lulled by efforts to play events off in this manner, and he anticipates more from his witnesses than simple acceptance. He expects censure, and he will not entertain mercy, even for a moment.
Perhaps sensing this, Stark drops the attempt at reassurance and tries a different approach. "So look. There's obviously a lot to unpack here, but I'm thinking it's about time we got a few things laid out in the open. I think I speak for us all when I say we probably want to avoid any more misunderstandings."
"Agreed," Vision readily confirms.
When it becomes obvious Loki will volunteer nothing further, Stark continues. "Alright. So how about we start with some of the low hanging fruit. First of all, I want you to know that no one is going to try to keep you here against your will. If you want to leave, you can go. No one's gonna stop you. I just would really rather you didn't, at least until you hear me out. Okay?"
Loki holds himself so still it becomes noticeable rather quickly, and Stark takes this as his answer.
"Great," Stark says, forging ahead. "The second thing is that I'm not mad. Kinda confused, maybe, but definitely not about to throw down, yell or any of the other things I can tell you're gearing yourself up for. So just relax. You're wound so tight I think I'm getting a cramp over here."
If anything Loki clutches even harder at the fabric of his pants, and Stark throws a somewhat helpless look in Vision's direction.
"The third thing is, I'd really like to know exactly what's going on in your head, because I don't know whether you've clocked this already, but I really suck at being able to tell what the hell you're thinking most of the time and I'd really like for that to stop right about now. For all our sakes." Vision gives Stark an encouraging nod, and the man takes a deep breath before finishing. "So how about it? Ready to throw me a bone?"
With some obvious reluctance, Loki opens his eyes, although he studiously directs his gaze towards some nebulous point along the wall on the other side of the room. His expression settles into one of defeated acceptance, as though determined to endure whatever may come next.
"I will cooperate," Loki says in a monotone, his face as devoid of emotion as his voice. "Ask what you will."
The look Stark shares with Vision is not an altogether happy one, but he seems intent on maintaining what momentum they have established. The question he leads with is still rather vague, all things considered, but Vision supposes it serves a useful purpose.
"Tell me what you're feeling right now," Stark says. "What's the first thing that comes to mind? And don't give me some bullshit about how annoying and insufferable I am. Let's pretend for argument's sake that we've covered that already and we can skip straight to the serious stuff. Time's a wastin'."
Loki slides his eyes briefly in Stark's direction but seems to reconsider an attempt at obfuscation.
"I am unsure," he admits quietly, his gaze flicking now to take in Vision too. "I… am not certain where things stand."
"Well that's what we're here for," Stark says with straightforward transparency. "So stop trying to dodge the question. I'll say it again: tell me what you feel."
It is clear to Vision that Loki takes this as something of an imposition, but his scowl soon fades again into a look of hopeless resignation. His eyes once again fix with intense focus on the floor some distance away, and his words are barely audible when he finally says, "Fear. I feel fear."
"You fear us?" Vision can't help but ask, his every instinct rejecting the very notion.
"Not you," Loki clarifies, his words including Vision and Stark both. "Only your… your…"
Vision thinks he understands. "Losing our good opinion?"
The silence that follows is all the confirmation that is needed. Vision suspects Loki finds this all rather excruciating.
Stark is uncharacteristically quiet for a moment as he takes this in. When it is clear there is to be no more forthcoming, he makes a dubious humming sound and produces a marginally brittle smile, somewhat less inclined towards tact than Vision would like. "Oh, you're good at this game, I'll give you that," he tells Loki, much to Loki's obvious annoyance. "Don't think for a second that I'm not onto you, Speak No Evil. But fine. Let's put a pin in that and come back to it later."
Loki frowns fiercely at this, finally seeming to engage in the conversation, and Vision finds himself thinking that it's not just Loki who is good at game playing.
"I don't know what you mean," Loki insists.
"Sure you don't," Stark says. "I know a half truth when I hear one. And I was there, remember? You get huffy about it when you remember you're supposed to, but I'm pretty sure you've never looked at me like I've skinned your favourite puppy before just because I put my hand on you."
Loki jerks his head to the side and stares resolutely at his feet, his jaw clenched.
Starks sighs. "Yeah. Like I said, pin in it."
There is something here that Vision has missed, although what that is he cannot guess. Perhaps when there is time later he will ask Stark for further details, or perhaps even for footage of the incident from FRIDAY's files. He would prefer not to encroach upon his friends' privacy, and he certainly does not wish to pry, but there is something of significance here that evades his understanding.
The uncomfortable silence stretches on for longer than anyone would really prefer, and Vision redirects proceedings with a question of his own.
"When did your magic return?"
"It is… a recent development."
"May I see?" If the fascination Vision feels comes across a little too strongly he doesn't care to conceal it.
Loki spares Stark a brief sidelong glance.
"Show us what you've got," Stark encourages.
After a moment of concentration there is a shimmer of light, and where before was Loki, there now sits a perfect imitation of Vision himself, complete with the sweater and pants he has chosen to wear today.
The image soon resets, and Loki flicks his eyes up to gauge the reaction of his audience.
"Fascinating," Vision enthuses.
"Gotta say, feeling a bit outnumbered here," Stark adds, but his interest is apparent. "You can do the voice too?"
"I can," Loki confirms with Vision's exact inflection, if somewhat reluctantly.
"So cool," Stark says again with a smile. "I'd ask you to do me, but I think I know what the answer would be."
"Don't push it, Stark," Loki grumbles tightly.
Stark only grins wider. "So why didn't you tell us?" He nudges Loki's side with his elbow, the effect playfully reproachful. "Is it because you know how many doodads I've got lined up ready to get a reading on all this? I know they look scary, and I know that just the prospect of it probably bores you to tears, but think of the data—"
"You know why," Loki interrupts a little more forcefully, his anger beginning to resurface. "You do not need to play at ignorance."
Stark dutifully snaps his mouth shut. The look that settles on his face contains exasperation he does well otherwise to hide. He holds up a placating palm. "Right. I'm gonna stop you there. And can we not go back to the whole name-calling thing, please? I get it. You think I'm an idiot. You don't have to keep repeating yourself."
Loki huffs but doesn't otherwise continue. Instead Stark goes on.
"I'm not playing at anything. I don't do mind games. Really not my style. If Rhodey were here he'd tell you that what you see is what you get with me, and I think Vision would agree. Right, Vis?"
"You are nothing if not frank," Vision agrees with some amusement.
Stark nods. "Exactly. So believe me when I say I can't think of a single reason why you would think you need to hide the fact that everything we've been working so hard for these last few months is finally bearing fruit. I mean, it's not like it's a big secret or anything. We all know what you can do."
"Yes," Loki says, his tone hard. "You all know exactly what I am."
"Yeah," Tony counters, just as uncompromising. "We do."
The look Loki directs on Stark then borders on menacing. "Is that so? Then what is to be your next move? Just how long will you harbour a dangerous enemy?"
Stark's face turns stony at this, his nostrils flaring. Vision is quick to intervene before the man can unleash whatever it is he's building up to.
"Are you our enemy?" he asks simply, the words soft enough that he hopes his meaning is clear.
Loki finally meets Vision's eyes, an anguish there that is painful to look at. When he looks away again the threatening front has dissolved, and all that's left behind is uncertainty and a naked vulnerability. "I don't know," he murmurs.
"Do you wish to harm us?" Vision pushes, confident he already knows the answer.
Seemingly annoyed with himself, Loki simply deflects. "I lied to you. Deceived you. I cannot promise I won't do so again. It is in my nature. That and many other things you would not approve of."
An inelegant snort from Stark pierces the sombre mood. "You know how many people approve of me?" the man asks, shameless. "Not a one. Would take it personally if they did. And let's face it, I'm no paragon of virtue at the best of times. So you omitted a few truths. No real harm done."
Loki clearly does not agree. "You don't understand," he insists.
"Well then I'm thinking it's about time we all put a few things on the table. What do you think, is that fair?"
After a moment of consideration, Loki releases a breath and nods miserably.
Stark smiles and rubs his hands together. "Great. I'll go first." Loki frowns at this but doesn't argue. "So you know that lasagne I made last week that you insisted you wouldn't eat if I used the canned tomatoes instead of the fresh? And you know how you said you'd be able to tell the difference and I promised I wouldn't subject you to my shortcuts again?" He spreads his hands at the narrow-eyed look Loki levels on him, entirely unrepentant. "Yeah. I lied. Knew you were full of crap. You didn't even notice." Loki leans back and crosses his arms defiantly, staring Stark down. Stark grins. "Okay. Now you."
Loki remains stubbornly silent for a moment or two, chewing on this betrayal, or perhaps simply deciding if he wants to be a part of this exercise. When he deigns to offer Stark a confession of his own it is loaded with calculated innocence.
"Forget what I said before. That shirt does make you look fat."
He tilts his head at Stark's scandalised expression, the regret in his own insincere. No sound emerges when Stark opens his mouth to object. "I was being polite," Loki adds sweetly into the silence.
Vision has to duck his head quickly to hide a smile. He notices Stark smoothing the front of his shirt down with a self-conscious motion he quickly averts.
"Alright, smartass," Stark huffs once he's recovered some aplomb. "That was uncalled for, but you win that one."
"You did rather walk into it," Vision supplies.
After a brief reproving glance in Vision's direction, Stark sobers and seems to steel himself before he continues. "Okay then. Here's another one for you. I should have told you before now, but I guess I thought maybe you wouldn't like it and that it would be better to keep it under wraps. I've been keeping a record. Of everything. Everything you've told us, all the stuff we already knew, a few things I've guessed in between. Got a pretty comprehensive timeline going, although there are still some big gaps. Was hoping maybe I could fill them in eventually, that maybe if I knew what was missing I could help you find it. And I'll be honest with you, I was also just really curious. Never could resist a puzzle. But I get that it's kinda skeevy. And that I should have asked your permission. If you want I'll have FRIDAY erase it. It's your call."
At Loki's rather sad look, Stark adds a quiet, "I'm sorry."
After some thought, Loki offers a slightly awkward shrug of his shoulder. "I would like to see that, actually."
The relief is evident in Stark's answering, "You got it." When Loki does not volunteer anything further, Stark prompts him with a significant look. "This is the part where you reciprocate."
Loki once again looks pained, apparently still unable to face unburdening himself. Stark gestures to where Vision is now seated, his tone playful.
"I'd suggest Vis gives it a go, but… well. You know."
Vision frowns at this. There is no need for Stark to exclude him. "I may have overwatered the ficus," he confesses, which prompts silent stares from his two friends. He looks between them both. "In my defence I have never cared for a house plant before."
Stark opens and closes his mouth twice before turning to Loki and saying, "Anyway, you see what I mean."
Reaching across the arm of the couch to the side table, Stark pours himself a generous measure of scotch from a decanter tastefully arranged on a tray. He turns to Loki and tips the glass back and forth in a questioning motion. Loki shakes his head. Stark then settles back against the couch cushions and swirls the amber liquid thoughtfully. Vision notes however that he does not drink from it.
When he speaks again Stark's voice retains its previous carefree cadence, his hands still occupied with turning and manipulating the tumbler in his grip, yet the significance of his words sharpen Vision's attention. "I paid a stupid amount of money to have an indoor pool put into a safehouse I never thought I'd have to use. A pool I can barely bring myself to look at, let alone get into. A pool I like to kid myself I'll be able to use one day, when the thought of putting my head under more than the lowest shower setting doesn't make me want to bolt." He smiles wistfully. "I used to be a really good swimmer, too. Used to love it. Had all that ruined for me by some bad people, but you know what? It made me who I am. Helped me make a choice about who I wanted to be, one that I'm not sure I'd have made otherwise. So maybe it was good for something. Maybe I'm just not meant to get back into the water."
He puts his drink back down and gazes into it, giving his words space to breathe.
Fresh tears have begun to track down Loki's face, though he does not seem to be aware of them.
"I believe it is your turn," Vision prompts gently.
Loki's breathing begins to accelerate, and after a couple of false starts he ekes out a handful of words. "I am... not what you think I am," he says, eyes wide. "I am not what I—" He breaks off and looks away, a wordless shake of his head all he can manage.
"You believe the worst of yourself," Vision concludes for him, "but that is not what we see. You are not the caricature you seem to think you must become."
"You don't know the first thing about me," Loki laughs even as he cries, and Vision finds himself somewhat at a loss.
"More than you do, apparently," Stark interjects in something of an undertone, then holds up his palms as two sets of accusing eyes turn in his direction. "Okay okay, low blow. What I'm saying is, I think we've got more of a handle on this than you give us credit for, and that you're not exactly an objective source of intel when it comes to insight into everyone's favourite bad guy. The fact that I'm the one saying this should hold some weight, is all I'm saying."
Loki doesn't look exactly reassured by this statement. If anything he looks even more miserable than before.
"You're not him," Stark reiterates simply.
"But I am him. I did those things. How can you be sure I will not turn on you? How can you know you will be safe when I have everything I've lost at my disposal once again, when I remember all the grievances I have against you and your world?"
"You're missing the point here. You're not that guy, because he's not real. This supervillain you've built up in your head? The one you've pieced together from all the negative second-hand accounts and images with no context? I gotta be honest, I don't think that guy ever really existed."
"How can you say that? You've met him."
"Yeah, I'm not so sure anymore."
"I am not a good person," Loki says, the heels of his hands pressed against his eyes. "I am angry and bitter and jealous. All the time. I cannot stop. Criminal or not, I have few redeeming qualities."
Stark makes a pfft sound. "You wanna know who you are? You're the guy that likes chocolate on his pancakes, who laughs at my jokes while pretending they're not funny, who secretly adores my golden oldies playlist but won't admit it. You're the guy who falls asleep reading YA novels and says thank you to FRIDAY when she opens a door for you. You're the guy who puts up with my terrible cooking because you know I like doing it."
"Our friend," Vision adds.
At this Loki's breath hitches and his shoulders begin trembling slightly with the effort to withhold another bout of tears.
"Look," Stark says, "it feels a bit like we're going round in circles with this. But what it comes down to is that you can decide where you want to go from here, and I mean that in both a soul-searching, existential kind of way and in a very immediate sense. So what do you think? Gonna give us another chance or what?"
It takes him some time to bring his breathing back under control, but when he does there is conviction in his voice that was missing before. "I wish to stay," Loki says, the words a quiet confession.
Stark lets a pause stretch. "What do you mean? Here on the couch, or…"
Loki shivers, then shifts to tuck his face from view against his knees. Vision shares a significant look with Stark.
"I wish to stay," Loki repeats after a few moments of miserable silence, his voice muffled and barely audible, "if you'll have me."
Vision sees Stark's fingers grip tightly at Loki's shoulder, the man's expression taking on a brittle, almost disapproving look. His tone is however much more mild when he says, "And here I was thinking you were the smart one. Gonna take more than that to shake us loose, Vanishing Act. In case you haven't got it through that thick skull of yours yet, you're stuck with us. Get used to it."
The broken sound Loki releases at this makes something dangerous flare in Stark's eyes for a moment.
"So you want to get out of here? Get some sleep maybe? It's like two in the morning."
Loki nods clumsily from behind his knees but doesn't move to get up. Instead Stark rises and stretches, cracking his neck with a grimace. He reaches a hand down in invitation until Loki raises his head to look.
"C'mon, buddy. Let's go."
"Must you insist on calling me that?" Loki says wearily, accepting the offered support to pull himself to his feet nonetheless.
"Yes. Yes I must."
Vision follows them both from the room, interested to hear the last of their conversation as they head towards Loki's quarters. Stark becomes the subject of Loki's intense focus the further they progress, to the point where navigation begins to suffer as a result.
"I do not think you're an idiot," Loki tells him. Stark pats him on the arm. "And I'm sorry I broke your things."
"No big deal. Keep walking, watch your feet."
"I shouldn't have hurt you. That was unforgivable."
"You didn't hurt me."
"I will make reparations."
"Sure thing. Nearly there. Here we go."
Upon entering the bedroom Loki drops heavily onto his bed, his attention now absorbed somewhere in the middle distance. Stark busies himself turning out lights and fetching another glass of water from the bathroom, while Vision helps Loki to remove his footwear. He is about to bid his friend goodnight when Stark releases a sudden bark of laughter from his position near the door.
Vision peers over his shoulder to see Stark scoop something up from a nearby surface, a delighted grin on his face as he examines the object he has claimed.
"Oh, this is war," Stark promises darkly. He then proceeds to collect up a number of other items, including what look to be tools of some kind, the remote to one of Stark's comparatively more vintage music systems (and one which FRIDAY isn't otherwise programmed into), and the most recent copy of New Scientist which has been missing for at least the last several days.
Ignoring Stark for the moment, Vision focuses on persuading Loki to lie down, then waits with him while he calms. "Rest," he says once Stark has completely dimmed the lights. "We will talk more in the morning."
There is no response from Loki other than the closing of his eyes, and both Vision and Stark take their leave.
"Sneaky little shit," Stark mutters around a smirk, taking an obnoxiously audible slurp of coffee from the novelty mug cradled in his grip. He then adds a cryptic addition to this statement, apparently whispered for the ears of his beverage alone. "Just didn't taste the same without you."
"I take it you've solved the mystery of the disappearing items?" Vision guesses with a smile. Despite the man's comment on the hour, it would seem tonight is to be one of Stark's 'all-nighters' as he likes to call them. The significance is not lost on Vision.
"Should have known better. Won't be making that mistake again. FRIDAY, update Loki's e-library for me, would ya? Let's go exclusively for every translation of 50 Shades of Grey that's ever been produced, in triplicate. Throw in the audiobooks, too."
Vision is almost certain he's not imagining the fond amusement in FRIDAY's answering "Done."
"There's my girl."