Loki methodically opened each and every cupboard, forcing his hands to still before opening each one. He started with those closest to the left which were all lower than his waist. He then moved to the ones in the middle of the room which were both high and low. By the time Loki reached the last cupboard on the right side of the room all were left wide open. He darted back and forth as he dug around in the cupboards, fridge, and freezer. He found flour, baking powder, chocolate, baking soda, jams of several flavors, mint, salt, every and any ingredient he could need to bake with till the sun came up the next morning.
A bit of tension left Loki's body when he found a kettle he had almost forgot he had packed. It was resting, already full of water, on the stove top. He figured Rogers must have put it there when he brought the box it was in up to this floor. He poured out the water and refilled it with fresh, one could never be too careful. Loki turned the knob, listened as the stove clicked once, twice, and then the flame turned on. As he waited for the water to boil he gathered up bowls, measuring cups, and plugged in the mixer.
He would start by making chocolate chip cookies. They were something mostly unfamiliar before his time spent at Tea and Potions but since opening the shop the recipe became something like an old friend. Easy tasks that he didn't have to think about too closely anymore. Loki could automatically turn to preheat the oven as he set aside a bowl for his dry ingredients. He finished cracking in the eggs as the kettle started it's low hiss that soon would grow into a full on screech. He turned off the flame and poured the water into his mug before his mind could carry and trap him in memories he would rather forget. He turned back to the cookie dough as steam rose up from his mug. Poured in the chocolate chips and stirred before going back and taking a sip from his mug. The first batch of cookies was ready and in the oven before he even finished his first cup of tea.
He ended up making six trays of cookies before his hands stopped shaking on their own and he felt ready to bake something else. Then he poured his anxiety into brownie mix. As if the sweet chocolate could somehow erase the bitter tang that stuck to his tongue. Unfortunately, brownies were just as mindless as making cookies. Before long Loki's mind started wandering from the tasks he had set before him. At first he kept repeating what Clint had said in an endless seeming litany, "Why do you care so much? You can't change. Mothers and friends, children and families that were lost. You can't change. You need to pay for what you did. You can't change. As if you're above everyone elseā¦"
Before long, without realizing it Loki was crouched in front of the open oven door. He was frozen in place and perched to push the brownie pans in. The once pleasant warmth seemed stifling. His old burns seemed to itch. He could hear the echo of bones snapping and wondered faintly if they belonged to him or the mothers and friends, children and families he killed. He blinked, tried to force his mind clear, perhaps there was nothing left to clear. He was too warm. He was burning. He couldn't breathe, could feel the fingers wrapped around his throat. Could feel the smoke settling in his lungs. The imagined fingers moved and let him take in a shuttering breath. He knew they were imagined or at least he hoped they were.
Tony jerked awake and banged the back of his head on the light he must have moved closer before succumbing to sleep. "Jarv, I was sleeping," Tony mumbled. He blearily looked at the ceiling, tried to make everything fall into focus, and confusedly repeated, "I was sleeping."
"I am sorry to wake you sir but you had asked me to report if Loki experienced any panic attacks."
Tony blinked up at the ceiling once, twice, and then it hit him. "Shit." He started to stand up only to hit the back of his head on the light from earlier. He pushed it away and successfully got out of the chair. The elevator doors started opening before he even pushed the button. If anyone had seen him Tony would have insisted he hadn't been running which was technically true but he definitely wasn't just walking to the elevator either.
Loki tried to calm down. He tried to stand up and focus his energy on something, anything that that wasn't in his head. But his legs just couldn't seem to hold him. He almost convinced himself they must have been broken again. He placed a hand over his knee and tried to heal his legs, his arms, his everything. He bit down before he could cry out as magic flared that couldn't be used. His magic slipped through his fingers, he couldn't seem to grasp any of it. His seidr was completely out of reach. The music that he had been playing cut off mid note. The lack of magic and music was an absence which burned an emptiness through his veins. On top of it all he could still hear what Clint had said but so many other voices had joined in as well, "Wherever you go there is war, ruin, and death. How pretty your bones sound when they snap between my fingers. The Queen is dead. Some of those people that I killed, that you killed, were my friends. Come on little argr why don't you scream anymore? It's your fault. Your birthright was to die, as a child, cast out onto a frozen rock. No more magic tricks to save you."
The doors were only half open before Tony rushed between them. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the disarray of the kitchen and turned toward it. It looked like the culinary version of his lab, everything a mess but most likely in an easy to find place. And there was Loki, slumped on the floor half curled into a ball between the island counter and the open oven. Tony was there in seconds, checked that nothing was on fire, and closed the oven door.
Something slammed shut. No something broke or snapped or ripped. No it was just the oven door. No it was himself, his seidr Loki opened his eyes and saw Tony crouching in front of him. He flinched.
Tony leaned back and let himself almost gently fall to the floor so he wasn't crowding into Loki's space. He ran a hand through his hair and started babbling, "So Loks, I leave you alone for a few minutes and you start to fall to pieces on me. I mean are you even breathing right now," Tony sighs. "Look I don't know what happened. I really don't. Jarvis said you were freaking out okay he didn't put it that way but yeah. So, breathing is a good idea. In and out and stuff in a calm and normal way. I normally am better at this or at least I can pretend to be but honestly I just woke up and hit my head twice. It's been a hell of a wake up. Obviously I'm not complaining. You're having a worse time I'm sure. See there you go with the normal breathing that must be better. I know it is. Panic attacks suck but it's alright. Your fine and safe and you're not wherever your head dropped you off."
Loki listened to the inane prattling. It wasn't necessarily calming. It wasn't his music. But it was something that wasn't the voices in his head or the lack of magic at his fingertips. He stayed on the floor for sometime but at least he knew for certain where he was and who he was with.