Tony called out to Leeman but the man just kept walking. As he turned around a corner, Tony pulled out his phone and with a few keystrokes had hacked into the nearby cameras. Spitting the screen in half he tracked Leeman as he sped through the camera footage of the last few days. He stopped when he got to footage that actually had Loki in it. Flicking Leeman off the screen, Tony focused in on Loki being tugged out of the shop. Mumbling, "Pompous ass in a suit," Tony sent the footage to Jarvis and quickly made his way back to the tower. Bigger screens and power would be needed to properly track down Loki.

Throughout the day Vincent only partially paid attention to the paperwork he was given. As papers and packets piled onto his desk he filled, signed, and documented on autopilot. At first he tried not to think about the murderer he had chained up in his apartment. But as the day wore on Loki came closer to the foreground of his thoughts. It wasn't that he regretted what he had done, he wouldn't apologize for taking his time and avenging his mother. Though he was a bit concerned about the blowback if his actions were found out. What if Loki woke up while he was away, broke out of the chains, attacked again? At the very least, what if the wood floors became scuffed? To stop thinking about potential property damage Vincent let his mind wander about what he would do with Loki once he got back to his apartment. How he could stomp and punch and use a few choice weapons. He would have to be careful to keep any blood spatter off the couch but he could always find a sheet or something to drape across various locations and objects.

Consciousness returned slowly. At first Loki could not remember where he was or why he felt like one of Thor's punching bags. The chains cutting into his flesh meant the void or Asgard but cold wooden floor at his back didn't align with those tortures. Tilting his head every which way Loki realized he had been left in someone's apartment, someone's typical Midgardian apartment. From the light streaming through the window it was probably around noon. And then it clicked; Vincent, the memorial park, one man's need for revenge. Loki wondered when Vincent would be back and he curled up on to his side. He tried with all his might to make himself as small as possible. He tried to be a silent as he could but the chains clattered as he shook. He knew he should stop making noise, no one ever liked to be reminded of his presence, but he could not force his body to still.

In record time Tony reached the tower. Panting a bit he huffed, "Jarvis, I'm gonna need you to figure out how I can run the suits but still be out of breath from three-ish blocks of running. It's totally not fair. Also the stuff from my phone better be up in the lab by the time I get there." The elevator doors hissed open and Tony was faced with various large screens. One had the camera footage of Tea and Potions. One which was toward the back was keeping an eye on Leeman. And the main screen had every camera angle of Loki once he and Vincent had left the shop. Tony went straight for that screen and stared as they made their way to a park. The cameras lost track of them for about an hour but eventually they made their way out. Tony hoped that Loki looked worse then he actually was. He wished someone would stop them, save Loki, but they didn't. For the most part the early morning risers either didn't notice or didn't care. And with a final turn the pair walked into a large apartment building where the cameras failed to be of help. "Can I get the records for who lives there? And what rooms they're renting?"

Soon enough some keys jingled outside and the lock clicked open. Loki finally, successfully, froze. He squeezed his eyes shut and his hands clenched into fists. He hadn't even managed to wriggle a bit more freedom out of the chains. If anything, Loki felt more confined now then he had when he woke up several hours earlier.

Vincent slipped his way into his apartment and quickly shut the door behind him before anyone could possibly catch a glimpse of the monster in his apartment. He went to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of beer from the fridge. After a gulp he put his bag down and walked out into his living room. He plopped down on the couch and said, "Come here." After a few moments where Loki did nothing but open his eyes Vincent said, "Roll if you have to but come here. I'd prefer not to add more reasons to why I need to punish you."

Loki squirmed. He rolled himself over. He dragged himself a bit at a time. The floor squeaked with rolled up friction which caused a half hearted burn across his stomach. Eventually he made it to where Vincent was sitting.

"I've been meaning to get something to prop my feet up. I guess you'll do." Vincent kicked up and let his boots slam onto Loki's stomach. As he drank his beer he would arrange which was merely an excuse to kick once again. Once the bottle was empty he spun it in his hands, "Some of your victims had glass shattered in their body. I wonder how much you would enjoy that." He put the bottle down on the end table. When standing, Vincent put his full weight onto Loki and heard something crunch. He smiled and grabbed a knife from the kitchen.

Breathing had been a mistake. Loki breathed in as his captor stood up and it felt like mjolnir crushed his rib cage. He held his breath once Vincent was back in the room. Because he was so focused on not breathing he failed to notice the rather large chef's knife until it was slashing across his stomach. It dashed down part of his arm. His lungs were burning by the time his thigh was cut. Loki screamed as he took in a gulp of air.

Vincent pressed his hand firmly down onto Loki's mouth. "Shut up. Other people live here you know."

Frantically breathing through his nose, Loki nodded to whatever Vincent was saying. The old wounds on his back felt new once more. It did not matter who was doing this. It did not matter where he was. Loki knew he had to agree, the pain tended to end quicker if he just agreed with his captors. Silent tears rolled down his face and onto the floor. He dared not open his mouth and risk losing his tongue. He bit down on his own lips to keep from crying out when the hand was removed from his face. As the knife cut deeper he didn't make another sound. His last clear thought was hoping someone could save him but knowing he deserved the punishment.