He's not been to said place he apparates away demands more detail till he hears someplace familiar, apparates there compelles a cab driver to take them wordless and he promises Stane so profoundly painful torture if he's lying.
Fifteen minutes too long they make he shoos the cab away ties up Stane tight enough to hurt stalks to the warehouse, masked by the nightlight he listens hears them barely hears their fear hears them ramble about him – good. Spell he to the ground casts so the witches remain inside trapped and he can kill every last one of them slowly.
He dwells not on the fact that he can't hear Tony.
XXX
They can't fathom how Stane's connected caught up more on Loki the tribrid – Steve impatient elaborates – Howard rages – others ask – comment on Stane – Chester shuts them all up – They arrive around the same time, hear Stane yell glance at the woods – Marc heads in finds him to a tree tied keeps him so tells the others and they ignore him, head forth into the building armed and cautious but hasteful.
XXX
First floor they clear commotion they hear screams – storm up spot a witch at a corridor facing left attacking whom they assumed was Loki – they shoot her down. A beat, slow steps they hear,
a figure at the corner they see, that forth into the light comes – stops.
It's Tony.
So relieved they grow,
then to look more closely.
He's drenched in blood the reactor's gone there's no wound. Crimson paints the lower half of his face, lips dripping down his chin – they're frozen.
He heard the shot sped there finds them,
finds him, breathes easy alas,
then sees, clearly.
"Loki," like a plea he calls fear there on his face in his eyes expanding. Dread in Loki rapid seeped – he paced towards him. "They-they took out the reactor and, I think I died, and I..."
"Shhh, it's alright," blood-drenched face he cups sees tears in those eyes he can't stand-
"I killed them," hoarsely whispered – Loki shushed him again wrapped round him his arms firmly.
"It's alright, come here," away they apparate appear in his bedroom. Tony sharply pants he claws at his chest winces – Loki panics.
"Tony? Hey," he grabs his face relocking their eyes – browns are anxious.
"Something. Something's wrong. The shrapnel."
"It's still inside," horrid Loki deduced more soberly said then: "Okay, Tony. Listen to me. Don't, panic. I'm gonna snap your neck," he indeed panics – quickly Loki adds: "– you'll pass out, and I'll take out the shrapnel. When you come to, it'll be gone. You will be fine. Do you trust me?"
"Yes," he says yet tears are falling – he's scared – it takes every ounce of self-control in Loki not to let that shake him, calmly talks to reassure him.
"Okay, close your eyes. It won't hurt, I promise." Tony swallows nods winces his chest's aching. He squeezed shut his eyes and Loki acted promptly, snapped his neck kept him from falling set him careful down to the ground – pulled out a knife cut through his shirt, placed the blade's tip to his chest shakily panting. He steeled his mind his hand, pressed – blood swiftly leaked – his face didn't change – it's vampire blood – his eyes welled – he blinked glared focused.
Spells he'd into looked research he'd made just on this realized he in fact could the shards removed, but the resulting wounds would kill him – he's…Already {-Shh.}
Chanting the blade's gone – the spell's said – a hand he flicks – out shoot from the bloody gap at his heart the metal shards – tearing vessels and flesh as they depart and in the bin Loki waved them. They're metal not wood they won't kill his heart won't kill him – he's fine – he'll awake – give it time – he falls back against the foot of the bed exhales sharply.