Loki grabbed the largest cups he could. The first he filled with chocolate hazelnut coffee topped with a bit of whipped cream and caramel. The second he filled with chocolate mint coffee. He passed the first to Tony and took a small sip from his own.

It was sweet, almost sickeningly so. Tony wasn't drunk enough for this or perhaps his sweet tooth wasn't as sweet as he had once thought. But he needed the caffeine and this cup would do the job as well as any other.

Tony sat down on the chair closest to the counter. It was plush, practically a throne, and deep red. "I would think torture like that would leave some scars." He meant to say something light, a joke. Something that would and could keep Loki from having a panic attack. Not necessarily because he cared but because he needed to keep the city in one peace. At the very least it would help keep his own panic at bay.

Loki made note of Tony's reaction to the coffee; next time chocolate or caramel instead of both. He had been thinking of possibilities, different coffee combinations he could make. Perhaps he could add a new pastry to the menu. But then Tony asked his question and Loki was forced once more from his calming thoughts.

"Scars." Loki almost laughed, "Of course there are scars." But of course he didn't even come close to actually laughing. If anything he was one question closer to breaking. To losing himself completely. Loki had enough magic to hide the scars. So why would he ever bother to see them, look at them. They couldn't help him. All the scars ever did was tether him to a past he wished so desperately to forget. All they ever did was force him to remember that he was meant to die but instead he once again got to live.

Loki placed his coffee on the counter and closed his eyes ever so tightly.

Tony watched as a green light went over Loki's entire body. One second the man before him appeared to be like any other. The next it was clear the amount of torture he had been under. Parts of Loki's body were indeed charred. But even knowing what to expect, Tony certainly hadn't expected this. Fingers bent at angles only meaning that the bones were still broken. Flesh not just blackened but stretched too thin, patches and web lines of reds and pinks. Tony could make out the cuts just from how burnt they were. He turned away.

Loki stood there, eyes still shut tight. It wasn't more or less painful without the illusion. At least not physically. It was always painful. Would always be painful. At least that's what he had suspected from the moment Fury placed the bracelets on his wrists. Eventually he managed to summon the courage to open his eyes. "Should I show you the rest?" He was almost proud by how steady his voice sounded. As if he couldn't trace the lines carved over his jotun markings from toe to forehead. As if he didn't blink wrong and have waking nightmares. "Would it make you feel better?" He almost started yelling, almost lost control. Instead he closed his eyes once more and took in a shuttering breath.

When he opened his eyes once more Tony was looking at him. And Loki wished he was not. But instead of saying anything he forced his fingers to curl around the handle of the chipped mug he had picked to drink from. For a precious few seconds as he drank his face was hidden from view. But when he put the mug down Tony was still staring.

Tony couldn't think what to say. What could he possibly say to the walking corpse in front of him? He knew Loki must be waiting for him to say something, anything. At the very least he should have answered Loki's question. Finally he managed, "Better?" How could anyone think that seeing this kind of damage, this torture, would be better. He cradled his coffee. "Is all that because of what you did to us?"

"No."

The reply was almost too quiet for Tony to hear. Yet his response had been just as quiet, "Put it back, Nymphadora."

"Put it back. All you have to say is put it back. As if I chose this. I wouldn't have...I never...I was perfectly content with dying. It would have been preferable. But instead my mother had to beg for leniency. As if this-" Loki spread his arms out and could see each bone move as he did so. "This is Asgard's leniency. And if I had not nearly died on Svartalfheim, if Thor and his lady love had not left me, this is what I would have returned to. If I got lucky a guard would have over anticipated my ability to heal and killed me. It would have been slow, certainly, long and drawn out. And either way no one would spare a passing glance for my body. The only person who would have cared is dead. And it's my fault." He could feel the tears. But still his voice did not tremble. He did not falter. "...Put it back. As if when it's not visible it did not happen." The green light covered his body once more and in a moment Loki looked healed.

"You think you know torture, pain? I long for something as sweet as your pain, Anthony. You who must still have nightmares over what happened, what they did to you." Loki stepped around the counter and reached out to arc reactor. "At least you received time to heal your wounds." He looked Tony in the eyes, "You were allowed to fix yourself. Even if it was a small portion of the overall problem." He took a step back but didn't look away. "You'll be pleased to know your bracelets stop any of my more powerful workings, including any attempts I've made to heal these scars." Only then did Loki turn anyway from Tony. Only then did he feel brave enough to turn his back to the man. Or perhaps he wasn't being brave at all this time.