Time moved on as it tends to do. Loki answered the questions Fury flung his way. He kept his shop open later and later till he was only closing for two hours at a time. He drank till he was more tea than man. And his customers never seemed to question the times the barista would freeze in the middle of making their double shot of whatever. Loki got by. He shied away from thoughts of his past, the reasons why his body ached in all the wrong places. He covered up the scars and never let the illusion of normalcy leave his presence.
Loki acted mortal with only a few caveats. The music in his shop was controlled by magic instead of Internet radio. He slept significantly less than any human was meant to. Meaning he beat Tony's record of staying awake, not by hours but by days and even then he only really took what would be considered a nap. And as far as anyone could tell he wasn't eating. Though of course the regulars supposed that that was an overstatement; Loki was eating. He was eating more versions of lemon squares then most cared to count. He nibbled on leftovers customers left behind. He ate junk. But since the regulars were the only ones there long enough to notice, Loki's eating habits weren't considered a problem.
Tony on the other hand seemed to be handling life a bit better. He broke through layer upon layer of data to get to any and all files Shield had on Loki. He spent hours in his lab making and remaking magic related tech. Some was meant to cut use of magic off entirely. But for the most part he was in the business of making magic reducers, energy restraints. He made bracelets, necklaces, anklets, even a prototype for a ring that were meant to restrain various energy signatures. In between such breakthroughs Tony ate and slept. Jarvis had seemed overly proud when Tony had woke after several hours of sleep. He had a goal, something to focus his actions around. He wanted to make something to help Loki. It scared him. But what worried him far more was how much he actually wanted to help the maniac.
Though if anyone had bothered to ask the rest of the Avengers how they thought Tony was doing they would have sounded less than pleased. They barely saw him. They weren't allowed to know what he was working on, merely that he was in actual fact working on something. And if Jarvis could be trusted, in most cases he could be, Tony was eating. Which was the only good thing the Avengers were sure of. They couldn't know if he was getting enough sleep, not when sleep was still defined as "just resting my eyes." They didn't know if he was even showering. Though Bruce assured everyone that a shower had been put in; that never meant that it would be used. He also said that a mattress had been put in but no one actually believed that Tony would stop work long enough to actually use it. So really all they could believe was that Tony was eating. And not just the odd nuts and berries he seemed to hide everywhere. He was actually eating. Clint could see the wrappers from his place in the vent, before Jarvis had found him and promptly evicted him to the roof.
Loki ran his shop, the coffee and tea flowed nearly all the time. Lyrics, that he assumed were popular considering how he could watch some customers singing along, played just loud enough in the background. He learned to sing along as well, though often he chose not to. He worked till he felt calm. He worked till he felt normal. Loki stayed in his shop for days talking and listening to people who barely knew of pain. And after awhile he forgot to worry about the possibility of Tony Stark bursting back into his piece of life. He didn't freeze nearly so often. Days passed him by and he did not worry that Odin Alfather would drag him back to his cell. Of course the worries didn't leave. He still shook if the door slammed shut. He knew Tony and his questions would return soon enough. Some days he was ready for them. Others he wished to hide under the counter. He bled under the illusions. And sometimes he couldn't remember where he was or when he was. Sometimes he would feel the urge to scream bloody murder. Very rarely he acted on impulse and any customers in the shop turned to him. They worried. But he worried more. He kept going. Kept trying to simply live this life he had been given. He figured that it was what Frigga would have wanted him to do.
Tony took everything he had. Correction, he took every energy restraint he had. He loaded them into bags and boxes ever so carefully. Making sure that no part could bash into any other. Then he took them one by one to the car waiting to take him back to Tea and Potions. It had been weeks since he had first seen Loki, first been in that coffee shop. And according to Jarvis he hadn't been out of the lab for at least two weeks. He figured since it was nearly October it would be the perfect time to stop by the witchy shop. Never mind the fact that he was practically dying for a cup of nearly gourmet coffee. Sure he had plenty of coffee makers in the tower never mind the three he had in his lab. But the coffee from them tasted different. It had been two weeks and he needed coffee from the proper source. And now he would finally have some. Coffee and the social interaction that Jarvis kept not so subtly hinting that Tony needed.
