Sumptuous silks and luxurious leathers, Tony discovers, are not idle promises. The reconstructed house in Malibu is an exercise in tasteful excess, and Tony feels vaguely like he should be wearing a toga every time he visits. From the sprawling arched ceilings painted in iconic murals to the hand embroidered scarlet drapes, every inch of the estate glimmers with a sheen of wasted money. It is so inexcusably tacky that Tony kind of loves it. Unfortunately, the spa-like atmosphere of the house doesn't change he and Loki's turbulent trajectory.
Moving west becomes something of a foregone conclusion with the return of Avenger's business. The tower never sleeps anymore, and neither do the teams of security personnel that Tony pays good money to watch it. He would have to be an idiot to keep Loki there. It's damn inconvenient, though, because even in his fastest jet it's a four hour trip one way. The Space Stone helps, but he only gets that luxury when Loki has the time, which isn't often. Apparently he has been using Odin's age and poor health as his excuse to come see his family each week, and the guards are becoming correspondingly paranoid about his disappearances.
Tony's about ready to just give up the ghost and kick Odin in the face until he rises and shines. They have kept this up for nearly six months and he's sapped. Long distance isn't something he has dealt with before, because he's never actually missed someone when they aren't around. Pepper came close, but back then he was usually the one looking for more space while she pined, and it's different from the other side of the fence. For a while it was maybe a little bit fun. Long weeks of anticipation punctuated by days of primal, rough incredi-sex. But after a month it becomes routine, and two weeks after that it feels like a chore, so Tony stops trying.
Loki doesn't comment, so either he agrees that they need a break or he's silently tearing himself to shreds over Tony's loss of interest. Column B should be more concerning, but he's embraced a kind of zen about Loki's freak outs. His self esteem fades in and out with no discernible pattern or stimulus, and trying to keep a hand on the wheel just makes Tony feel even more guilty when they inevitably crash.
The constant together-then-apart turns their weekend escapes sour. Even as Tony's heart leaps at the smell of Loki's skin and the solid feeling of his shoulder against his cheek, his mind whispers not to get used to it, he'll be alone again tomorrow. Seeing Loki lights him up with pain and happiness and despair all churned together, ugly like the muddy brown you get when you mix too many colors of paint. They take up jigsaw puzzles just to have an excuse to cram into each other's space and not talk. Nowadays they silently meet on the couch every Friday so they can bicker about whether this puzzle piece belongs in the blue pile or the green one.
Just when he thinks he can't take this torture any longer, gold rings start appearing and replicating in every cabinet of their Malibu kitchen. He tries to clean them out, but if he misses even one they multiply like bunnies all over again. It starts with the flatware, then the coffee mugs, and then the pantry. It goes quiet for a few days and Tony thinks it's over until the big cabinet over the oven splits apart and a tsunami of rings sweeps from the oven all the way to the breakfast nook. He is pelted with precious metal every time he goes for a plate or a cup, and it's such a Loki prank that he smiles even as he flinches and tries to escape the golden hail. Maybe it's the power of suggestion, or maybe it's brain damage, but he starts thinking dangerous thoughts about tuxedos and bouquets, and runs downstairs to the garage before he gets ahead of himself. Something about the prank wakes him up, assures him that Loki still likes him even if all they do is mope around.
Meanwhile the team circles the globe kicking names and taking ass. They sweep Europe first, then Asia, then South America. Tony learns the phrase "capitalist pig" in every known language and starts to appreciate the artistic qualities of the anti-Avengers hate graffiti. The ones in Shanghai are masterful, forming his red and gold silhouette out of interwoven Mandarin characters for 'murderer', 'devil', and 'tyrant'.
Eventually they run out of parties to crash, and Tony buys a parka off Amazon. There's only one base left on Earth, and it's tucked away in the snowy mountains of a country he particularly hates.
"Sokovia?" Loki repeats, wrinkling his nose, "Never heard of it."
"Well, it's heard of you." Tony says, flicking a holo display to Loki over the conference table in the home office. Loki's about to go back to Asgard, but he was nice enough to give Tony a lift back to New York. "Readings match the ones we took off the scepter in 2012."
"Then I presume it is time?" Loki asks, feet crossed and resting on the table, office chair leaning precariously far back.
"Yupperoni." Tony says, standing up. He pulls out the abomination of a phone he's been working on and slides it across the glasstop into Loki's waiting hand. "Latest model. The new coolant should keep it from frying."
Loki inspects it with a lopsided smirk. It looks like a nineties brick phone, held together by wing knuts and L brackets with an honest to god analog receiver. The plastic of the ear piece is bubbled and scorched from their last attempt, and a helix of heat exchange coils now winds its way around that end. He's kind of ashamed to put his name on it, but there wasn't time for spinning rims. The team has raided almost fifty Hydra bases over three months in nearly every continent, and that doesn't leave much time for R&D. The point is, they now have a direct wireless line that can't be hacked or tapped, and that might even work while Loki is on Asgard.
"You have outdone yourself." Loki says, "It is even more hideous than the last."
"What can I say? I'm an achiever, I achieve things." Tony says. Walks around the table to squeeze Loki's shoulders and paw at his neck. He's tense.
"You may do that as long as you wish." Loki groans. They exchange glances and Loki lets his head roll forward to give Tony more room to work. It's one of Loki's small acts of trust, a motion that says I yield to you and makes Tony want to be worthy of the privilege.
While he works he thinks about the bottomless rings, and all the stuff he wishes he and Loki could do together. Thinks about the hopeless expanse of time in which he and Loki will continue to struggle against long distances with no clear end in sight. And, honestly, he thinks a bit about sudden changes in behavior, and scrambles for some emotional insurance that Loki will still be here when he gets back.
"That reminds me," Tony says, haltingly, "Once the glow stick is locked up, why don't we go somewhere? Leave the blueberries with Xavier…"
"A vacation?" Loki asks, surprised.
"That's one way of looking at it-" Tony hedges, "or, you know, a, um, a different kind of… trip."
Loki brings his head back to look at him upside-down, eyebrows raised. Blinks at Tony's pathetic bumbling. Pointedly doesn't interrupt him. God damn it, Tony is making this more awkward than it needs to be.
"More like a honeymoon." he says.
Loki attempts to hold a blank expression, but that just makes his lips twitch at the corners.
"I have been reliably informed that marriage precedes honeymoons."
"Oh, right." Tony says, feigning forgetfulness, "Then I guess we'll just have to do one of those too. For the honeymoon, you know."
"Oh yes, only for the honeymoon." Loki nods sagely.
"You wouldn't-" Tony clears his throat, "You'd be okay with that?"
Loki loses the battle with his face muscles and gives him a fond smile.
"I would wear your ring proudly, Anthony." he says, spinning his chair around so Tony's standing between his legs.
"Shame I don't have it yet." Tony says, scratching at his chest with a rueful look.
"On Asgard it is customary to forge one's own courting gifts." Loki offers.
Taking advantage of the new angle, Tony laces his fingers behind Loki's neck and plays with his hair. Pretends to think about it.
"Well, I am an expert with gold-titanium alloys."
"A pity you must go to Sokovia, then." Loki says, put out, "We shall have to wait."
Fuck, he's right. Waiting, waiting. He's tired of waiting. He didn't exactly plan to do this now, and he feels like he blew it despite Loki's answer. Running a quick inventory, he gets an idea and tugs Loki out of the chair. Pulls him down the spiral stairs hand in hand and steps over piles of building materials and workmen's tools.
He keeps a drawer of candy to bribe the kids with, regularly stocked by his personal shopper. His desperately dateless personal shopper. He reaches in and digs until he finds the box of Ring Pops that he thinks is a veiled invitation. Pulls out a bright red one in a plastic wrapper.
"What-" Loki starts, but Tony puts a finger to his lips and shushes him.
"Placeholder." Tony says, treating him to a suggestive smirk, "It's candy. That you wear. And if you get bored you can suck on it."
"Ah," Loki replies, the corners of his eyes crinkling, "a practical accessory."
"Everyone likes useful gifts, right?" Tony smirks, patting him on the shoulder and slipping the candy under his wide, criss-crossed belt where Tony knows he keeps a Stark phone and a slender black wallet hidden. After Tony shredded Loki's armor in the jacuzzi he picked up some new duds, and they're real nice. Tailored in curved V shapes around his trim waist and narrower in the shoulders. He cuts a less intimidating figure without the big shoulder flaps, but the lack of pretense makes him seem stronger at the same time. Like he's learned that being big doesn't make you right. He puts his right hand over Tony's where there are still two fingers slipped under his belt.
"I will treasure it always." Loki drawls, "Will you be away long? What of the children?"
"I'm trying to figure that out." he sighs, "Hopefully we won't be long. Happy's scheduled for the first forty-eight hours, but I can't work him any longer without a day off. You'll have to check on them after that."
Loki nods and drags Tony into a strong kiss. His intensity surprises him after their abstinent month. The force of it makes his head tilt back to accommodate Loki's height, and he smiles into Loki's jaw when they break apart. It's nice to be appreciated.
"Do be careful." Loki whispers.
"That's not usually an option."
Loki grimaces.
"Then be clever in your carelessness." he amends, and that's a rule Tony can agree to one hundred percent.
"Shit!" Clint yells into the team comms, the sounds of a scuffle coming through from the background.
"Language." Tony says on rote, and then wants to permanently mute himself.
"Did anyone else hear Stark say 'language?' " Clint laughs.
"Shut your trap, Barton."
"Woah, you kiss your step-babies with that mouth?" Clint taunts.
"I think it's nice." Steve says, just polite enough that it's unclear whether he's mocking Tony or defending him. "We're heroes. We oughta be good role models."
"It just slipped out." Tony grumbles, and takes his anger out on the Hydra shield generator.
The raid goes about as well as possible, which is a mixed bag. Lots of casualties on Hydra's side, and lots of property damage. Clint injured. Hostile locals, because they wouldn't be humans if they didn't resent you for saving them. Plus the most fucking inconvenient PTSD flashback of Tony's life.
Silver lining, they have the scepter. If you can call that a silver lining. On the Quinjet Tony gets his first good look at it since Loki bad touched his reactor three years ago. It's still creepy. Thor comes to stand beside him, looking grim. Tony thinks that's pretty rich, given that Loki had to straight up order Thor to come deal with this. Apparently the god of pearly white smiles is taking his breakup with Jane pretty hard.
"Feels good, yeah? I mean, not that I haven't enjoyed our little raiding parties." Tony says, aiming for casual.
"No, but this brings it to a close." Thor replies, nodding with a finality that Tony thinks has a bit of a double meaning. Thor's here settling the affairs of his supposedly dead brother after all. They really need to tell him, somehow. It's gonna be a trainwreck.
"As soon as we find out what else this has been used for." Steve says, and for once Tony's glad for Cap's meddling.
"Banner and I will give it the once over before it goes back to Asgard." he says to Thor, then realizes he's gotten a little too comfy telling gods what to do and backtracks, "If that's okay with you? Just for a few days until the farewell party. You're staying right?"
Thor looks very much like he wants to leave right away. Tony mimics a put out expression Loki has used on him a hundred times, and Thor caves.
"Yes, of course, victory should be celebrated with revels." Thor says, forcing a smile.
"Yeah, I love revels." Tony says, picturing an all together different kind of celebration. At least he hopes it's different, because he's gonna need therapy if Thor's revels include bending his brother over the back of the couch.
"Clint, you've had a tough week. We won't hold it against you if you can't get it up." Tony jokes, and takes a sip from his glass.
The party turns out to be a decent distraction from his failure making Ultron. Good company, better food, and a bartender skilled enough to make Tony's cocktail enjoyable despite the lack of alcohol. He's been tailing Thor on the off chance that he can convince him to give Tony more time with the scepter, but no dice. It's clear that Gun Show would rather be in bed eating Asgard's version of ice cream in his underwear, and Tony can't really argue with him. He feels the same.
Clint stands up, all bashful self-deprecation and puts a hand on the hammer. Pulls and cracks up.
"I still don't know how you do it!" he laughs.
"Smell the silent judgement." Tony smirks.
"Please, Stark, by all means."
Tony puts Jori down, unbuttons his blazer and tosses it over the nearest chair.
"I'm never one to shrink from an honest challenge." he says wryly, slides his hand through the strap and pulls. Maybe half-asses it a bit. It's magic. Physics don't enter into it.
Still, this is a party. He might as well give everyone a laugh.
"One moment." he says, and gestures for his right gauntlet. "So if I lift this, I rule Asgard?"
"Yes, of course." Thor says, smug. The suit, of course, makes no difference, but it gets the crowd going and soon everyone's taking a shot at it. It's good clean fun, until Hela steps into the circle and everyone goes quiet.
"May I?" ze asks, smooth but with a tension in hir shoulders. Thor's involvement in the imprisonment of the baby gods is something of an elephant in the Tower. One Thor generally takes care to avoid.
"Of course, bróðurbarn." Thor says, trying to keep a boasting tone. Hela's thin lips twitch upward in a flash of a smile, hir eyes scanning him closely and hir eyebrows pinching in the middle. Ze concentrates, and with a flicker of white magic transforms into him. Thor's not smiling now.
"I don't think he would like you calling me that." Hela mutters in Thor's rich voice, and carefully wraps both hands around the handle. Bruce shoots Tony a questioning look, and Tony shakes his head. It's not one of the words he knows. Could mean anything.
Hela pulls sharply, and to everyone's surprise, the hammer actually shifts. It doesn't rise, which makes hir scowl, but Tony's positive that it moved. Thor looks nervous, but he huffs out a relieved laugh when Hela lets go.
"A clever notion," Thor says, taking a drink from his beer, "but Mjolnir does not fall for tricks."
"Mjolnir is a trick." Hela pouts, transforming back into hirself, the true form with the half dead face, not the human glamour.
"I agree." Tony says, patting Hela on the back, "All deference to the Man Who Wouldn't Be King, but it's rigged. Whosoever carries Thor's fingerprints is, I think, the literal translation."
"You bet your ass." Clint agrees.
"Oh, he said a bad language word." Hill says, eyeing Tony mischievously.
"Who told you about that?" Tony groans, and Steve laughs into his beer, the traitor.
"Well, that's a very, very interesting theory." Thor says, a lot more confident now the game is over, "I have a simpler one. You're all not worthy."
He gives the hammer a smarmy little flip, but a sharp ringing ruins the moment. Gets everyone looking around, and makes them jump when a mangled Legionnaire shuffles out of the lab and leaks pneumatic fluid all over the floor.
"No… how could you be worthy? You're all killers." the suit says.
"Jarvis." Tony mutters, pulling out his phone on reflex, eyes never leaving the robot. "Reboot. We need you here, we got a buggy suit."
Jarvis doesn't answer.
"Who sent you?" Thor asks.
The mangled legionnaire rotates, like it's gyroscope is tweaked. Tony's voice comes out of its vocalizer.
"I see a suit of armor around the world."
"Ultron." Bruce says.
"In the flesh." Ultron replies, and Tony doesn't hear anything else over the roar of his pulse in his ears. Iron Legion units crash through the lab walls and Tony dives for Fen and Jori before they are even through the glass. He lands with Fen against his chest and rolls so he's crouching over him. Jori is a tiny coil of garter snake on a pile of clothes and Tony shoves him in Fen's pocket.
Steve kicks up the coffee table and glass rains down over everything. He hits the ground hard beside Tony and slides. It's the home invasion all over again, his blood is pumping and he doesn't know what to do first.
"Don't shift." Tony says sharply to Fen and the kid nods, hyperventilating. A blast hits Tony right in the back and the force takes him and Fen right off the edge of the platform and crashing to the next level down. He takes out a bookcase and by some miracle lands with Fen on his chest. The glass wall shatters above him and he can't do anything but watch as a Legionnaire flies off with the damn scepter. He's about to call for Thor when an enormous falcon soars after it.
"Hela, stop!" he calls, but it's too late. Ze's gone. Tony carries Fen upstairs, taking the steps two at a time and scanning the scene. There's three units running, all of them airborne. Clint tosses Steve his shield and Rogers takes aim. Tony shoves Fen under the grand piano and dashes up another stairway to the top level. That puts him roughly as high as one unit and he leaps for it. He's barehanded, unarmored, but that stuff is mostly for convenience these days. When push comes to shove, he can bare knuckle with the best of them.
There's a kill switch buried in the neck area, but he can't get his fingers in there while riding the bucking bronco, so he just rips the head clean off. That leaves a red wire nice and exposed, and it's a simple thing to tug it out of the circuit. The unit blinks off, and Tony realizes he probably should have thought of an exit strategy before he jumped. He misses the main level all together and falls to the bottom floor. Lands on his side with a thud and gets the wind knocked out of him. Steve takes out the last unit with a clean slice of his shield, and the fight is over.
Tony rubs his eyes, does a quick check of his limbs and everything works. He sits up in the human shaped crevice he left in the concrete, and sees Thor staring down at him from the next floor up. His gaze is keen, eyes a bit wide and mouth slightly open. Then his eyebrows flatten, his mouth turns into a stern frown, and Tony knows he's figured something out. Thor swings his hammer and goes out after Hela, but his eyes track Tony the entire way, and it sends a chill from his scalp clear to his toes.
Thank god it's Friday, Tony thinks as he keys in the security code to the private elevator by hand. It's dark because he doesn't know where any of the light switches are. He has never needed to use such low tech backups before. Existing without Jarvis is like walking around without one of his senses.
The kids are shaken, huddling against his legs, and he doesn't know what to do. Hela is still missing. Jori is clutching Tony's belt loop like a crab, quivering slightly and hiding inside Tony's suit jacket, which he's wearing like a trench coat. Fen's half asleep standing up, but he keeps jumping suddenly back to wakefulness right when Tony thinks he might fall over. Every time he does it his hands grow claws, and Tony has to grab them until Fen wakes up all the way and sees that he's not in danger. The panic cycle fucks with Tony's calm.
The elevator arrives and he nudges both of them inside. It takes an embarrassing amount of time to remember the right security code, and even longer to punch it into the analog keypad correctly. The team is in the lab right now, probably talking about him, definitely blaming him. They no doubt expect him to come back and explain how this happened, as if he knows. As if he's just going to sit the kids in the corner while the adults have a team argument. No way. Look at them, they're in shock.
Tony walks them through the half-renovated living room. There's a table saw and a large rack of bullet-proof glass where the couch used to be. Plastic wrap covers the broken sections of the exterior wall, and the sheets flap loudly and curve in like sails on a old ship whenever the wind changes direction. Sawdust and nails cover the floor, and he has to pick both the godlings up just to keep their feet clean. At least the work crew finished repairing the concrete, that would be a mess to try and walk through. The hallway now has a starburst shape in a lighter color of grey near the master bedroom, and he could really do without the memento.
The boy's room is pretty much as they left it. Big, two twin beds, toys everywhere and a broken TV stand. Safe room door still wide open next to the trick bookshelf. He puts the brats down on Jori's bed and digs out some pajamas. Most of their things are in Malibu, so it's slim pickings. Old stuff with stains or holes or both. He's not sure why they didn't trash this crap.
By the time he has them dressed down, Jori's whining for his stuffed monkey and Tony shoves the first soft thing he finds at him, which is one of Fen's dog toys, its fur dirty and stiff with dried slobber. Nailed it. Dad of the year. He wraps them up in blankets because they're in shock and herds them to the master bedroom where they all got dressed for the party. Their tiny sneakers are scattered around where he left them earlier and he gathers them up.
"Let's get your shoes on." he says motioning for Fen to sit on the side of the bed while he gives Jori a boost. His voice is tight from him struggling to keep a calm veneer over his thoughts. He can't even take solace in his not-fiance's impending return, because Loki is probably going to go ballistic when he hears about Ultron. No safer place they can be. An impenetrable fortress in the sky. Sure. Safe from everyone but Tony himself.
"Come on, we gotta get you ready." Tony says, reaching for Jori's foot.
"Why?" Jori asks, jerking his feet into the blob of blankets. Tony paws around but the kid is fast, and pretty soon he's squirming backward out of the blanket until he's sitting in a ball in the middle of the bed.
"Dad's taking you back to Malibu." Tony says. "Come here."
"No!" Jori shouts, his squeaky kid voice ringing Tony's ears. "I wanna stay here!"
"Me too. I don't wanna go." Fen chimes in.
"Shut up and put your shoes on. This isn't a debate." Tony snaps.
Fenrir flinches at his tone, and Jori starts crying. Tony rubs at his eyes and crawls onto the bed. Wrestles shoes onto Jori's feet while the kid kicks and screams and has a meltdown.
"Stupid Jori. Always cries." Fen mumbles, and snatches his coat roughly from an accent chair where Tony tossed it earlier.
"Hey you got the verb right." Tony grunts, ignoring the actual content of Fen's statement. He fastens the last velcro strap on Jori's shoe and picks him up. Makes shushing noises in his ear and bounces him like a baby. Jori's like an infant when he's upset. Completely nonverbal, helpless, loud. So loud Tony doesn't hear Hela come in from the balcony or clop down the hallway in hir dress shoes.
"Tony!"
"In here." he calls, pulling out his emergency duffel and walking to his bedside table. He's not sure how long he'll be gone, but he doesn't feel good about leaving the Tesseract here.
Hela's slim figure fills the doorway, and Tony fumbles a bit with the cube. It's awkward to hold Jori, unzip the bag, and stuff the cube inside all at once. Hela opens hir mouth but Tony beats hir to the punch.
"Get your things. Dad's taking you to Malibu for a few days." he says. Hela runs to him, her face drawn and worried, and pulls Jori out of his arms. "Hey, what-"
"Shhh! Thor is here, he's right behind me-" Hela whispers, "He's upset with you."
"Stark!" Thor calls. The giant blond stalks in like he owns Tony's bedroom, still big and gleaming in his armor, and advances toward him with gruff purpose. Tony barely manages to zip the duffel closed before he's being lifted by the neck.
"Come on. Use your words, buddy." Tony gasps, his hands come up to grab Thor's forearm. For a blink Tony thinks he might actually squeeze. Instead he's pressed into the wall, the textured concrete digging into his nerves and sending shooting pain up and down his spine.
"I have more than enough words to describe you, Stark." Thor growls, and shoves something in Tony's face. He flinches automatically, his eyes squinting shut in preparation for a blow, but nothing comes. Opening them, he sees an up close view of… a hairbrush?
Thor's hairbrush from the locker room. Empty but for a few strands of black, wavy hair.
Oh. Oh fuck.
"Where is he?" Thor demands.
"He's dead, you idiot. Put me down." Tony lies. The kids are shrieking and crying across the room, but it's just noise around the static filling Tony's ears.
"I trusted you." Thor says earnestly, like he's hurt, and fuck Tony actually feels bad. He didn't think Thor would care one way or the other, at least not about him. About Loki's betrayal, sure, but he and Thor are just friends from work.
"You know my reputation. It was just a fling. She needed a brush." Tony says, swinging an arm at Thor's head, which he blocks easily.
"Stop lying!" Thor shouts.
Tony kicks and struggles. Thor isn't squeezing, but he's still holding Tony's whole weight by his neck and it's getting hard to breath. Finally he lands a knee into Thor's groin and Point Break lets go. The wall scrapes along his back as Tony slides to the floor and he elbows Thor in the nose, shoves him back with the momentary stun that earns him.
"We have bigger problems than your shitty family right now." Tony says, "Where's the scepter?"
"He lost it is a hundred miles north." Hela growls, bracing Jori in her arms and standing in front of Fenrir in the back corner.
"Do not pretend to be ignorant. Your robot delivers it to Loki as we speak!" Thor says, "I will not allow anyone to threaten this realm, Stark, not even you."
"You think Loki and I are, what, in cahoots?" Tony asks, laughs, actually. As the idea registers, it's honestly kind of funny because from a twisted point of view Tony can see himself doing that. Somehow he never considered just how successful he and Loki could be as a dynamic super villain duo. He was too busy trying to build a gazebo out of cardboard puzzle pieces.
Thor steps into Tony's space again, but he doesn't back down. If Gun Show wants to act like a bully, Tony's not going to just roll over and let him get away with it.
"So Loki is alive. Where is he?" Thor says grimly, searching Tony's face.
"Get out of my tower." Tony says.
"Tell me!" Thor demands, his anger cracking into a hopeful kind of desperation that is so much worse. He grips Tony by the shoulders and begs him with his eyes, and that's when all hell breaks loose.
A blast of green energy explodes against Thor's shoulder and throws them apart, slams Thor into the far corner where he crashes into the accent chair, sending the kids scrambling to get out of the way. Simultaneously, the force throws Tony into his own bedside table. The solid wood is cracked, so Tony improvises a weapon out of a broken table leg and jumps to his feet.
Loki stands over Thor, his clothes rustling and hands sparking with restrained power. He is wearing his usual Midgard disguise, and with a ripple of magic it becomes his battle armor, horned headpiece and all. He cuts an intimidating figure, tall and pulsing with fury.
"Loki-" Thor says.
"Get out of this house!" Loki roars, "You are not welcome here, Odinson!"
"Loki, please, we must talk."
"You have said more than your share. You accuse Anthony of treason, and threaten my family, why should I listen?" Loki hisses.
"You know I must tell the Allfather-"
"The Allfather sleeps, fool. Six months he has slumbered while I warmed the throne, or did that escape your notice?" Loki sneers, glancing around as though in search of a weapon. His eyes land on the stack of gold bars serving as his bedside table and he snatches the topmost one with a lasso of magic, hurling it at Thor's face.
Hammer Time ducks the projectile, narrowly. His eyes are white and open with shock. Jori shrieks in Hela's arms, and Tony knows he and the kids should be clearing the blast zone but he's frozen. The last time these two fought they leveled a city block.
"Impossible. I have spent nights at his side-" Thor says.
"That was me, you oaf!" Loki spits, throwing another gold brick, which misses and embeds itself in the wall. "You were so eager for my council when it came with Odin's face, weren't you? The same words from my own tongue and you would call me liar, traitor, snake."
Loki punctuates each insult with another brick, and Tony jerks into action. The bars fly through the air and rebound unpredictably as Thor knocks them aside and sends them crashing into walls and furniture. Tony pushes Fen into the hallway and drags Hela by the arm. He can only watch as the two break out into a flurry of punches and throws, wincing as they destroy yet another room in his ruined penthouse.
"I have never said such a-" Thor shouts back, and Loki's voice cuts him off.
"You think it! You and all of Asgard judge me from your drawing rooms and then come to kiss my arse at banquet." Loki bellows, speaking rapidly and digging into the sharp consonants of each word, "You are the liar, Thor, you and every god who thinks themselves above malice and trickery."
Loki's wrath wanes as he finishes his rant, his fire dimming after he's spilled his guts. Tony can't see him, he's blocked by the doorway and Thor's bulk, but he hears him panting and knows from experience that Loki is shaking. After an outburst he crumbles, every time. Tony wants to go back in, but Thor is in the way and he doesn't know how Point Break would to react. He doesn't want to end up in another crater.
"Brother-" Thor pleads. It's the wrong thing to say, Tony can tell just by the way Thor flinches.
"I am not your brother!" Loki says, "I am a post for Odin to beat in your stead, and I tire of you living in this fantasy. Leave, and do not threaten my family again."
"I am sorry, Loki." Thor says, "You are right, I have only made this worse."
"Leave." Loki says coldly, and Tony doesn't need to see him to imagine the flinty hardness in his eyes or the tension in his jaw.
Hela steps behind Tony when the god of thunder turns to walk out, and Fenrir clutches at his pant leg. Tony steps in front, as if he could actually stop Thor from doing anything. Thor scans the line of them, which Tony assumes is a peanut gallery of fear and disdain. He looks embarrassed, humbled.
"I will not speak of this to anyone." Thor says quietly, directing it first to all of them, and then twisting to speak to Loki over his shoulder. "You have my word."
"You word means naught to me." Loki swears.
"Then take my actions instead. Your children need you." Thor says, "Once the scepter is found, I will sit on the throne."
Thor steps heavily past Tony and the munchkins and stalks into the living room. Hela steps into the bedroom with Jori in her arms, and Tony hears the soft sounds of Loki panting and sniffling as the elevator dings across the apartment.
Peaking in the room, he sees Loki hunched on the bed with Hela on one side and Fen awkwardly hugging him from between his lanky legs. Tony doesn't feel like he belongs in that room. There's a history playing out that he's not part of, that he knows nothing about and he's worried he would say the wrong thing. He runs for the elevator and just barely catches it with the toe of his oxford. Thor straightens up when the doors pop back open, and Tony steps in beside him. Waits for the doors to close and pushes the button for the Avengers main floor. There's a ping-pong happening between his life with the team and his life with Loki, and right now he's not sure which Tony he ought to be.
"No hard feelings, Point Break." Tony says, "You got a mean swing."
"Perhaps I should not have swung." Thor sighs, "My actions dishonor me."
It's a bit non-committal as far as admissions of regret go, but Tony knows the intricacies of royal apologies from Loki. Admitting dishonor is about as close to 'I'm sorry' as they get.
"You can make it up to me." Tony says offhand, and shifts his weight to his other foot. "That part about Odin beating Loki…"
Thor meets his gaze, jaw tight.
"It is not as he made it sound. Father never raised his hand."
Tony crosses his arms. "But?"
Thor looks away.
"It is unlawful to humble a crown prince. Tradition states that a younger sibling receives his punishments, so the future king learns to be responsible for his subjects."
Tradition. Charming. The elevator doors slide open and Tony steps out first. Puts his hands in his pockets and heads for the murmuring voices coming out of his lab.
"Well sure, guilt is great for controlling the older kid." Tony thinks out loud, "But what does the younger one learn?"
Briefly he imagines punishing Jori every time Fen acts out, which is often, and that's a mistake. It ties him in a tight knot of upset that has no outlet.
"He learns his brother is a fool." Thor says under his breath, and follows Tony into the bright lights of the lab.
Tony was right, of course, they blame him. They blame him for a solid fifteen minutes until he loses his patience and asks those arrogant, naive fucks what exactly they were doing to get ready for the next alien invasion. The silence that follows is pretty vindicating.
South Africa is terrible, full stop. Arms dealers, vibranium, and Hulk smashing a shopping center. Just a barrel of laughs. Standing next to Clint while he drives, Tony pulls out his phone and dials it the old fashioned way so it doesn't announce the recipient. He taps his fingers on the cockpit console while he waits through the fake sex noises that Loki recorded as his leave-a-message-greeting.
"Hey, Slugger," he says lightly, pretending he's leaving a message for Hela. "Don't think we're gonna make it home tonight, so, uh, don't leave the light on for me. If you want an update turn on Channel 9, I'm sure they'll be looping our story all night. Stay safe. I'll call when I can."
Mashing the holo closed, he slides the phone deep in his pocket and sighs. Hopes that Loki caught the coded messages.
"We're about two hundred miles out." Barton announces.
"Out from where?" Tony asks.
"Safe house." Barton says. Knowing Hawkeye, Tony assumes it's an abandoned missile silo with no power and a porta-john for the bathroom.
Running water it may have, but the "safe house" still ought to be classified as cruel and unusual punishment. It's a triple threat of things that make Tony want to eat bricks. For one thing, there's nature everywhere, for another the house has no technology newer than a Pez dispenser. And finally, when Tony steps outside for a discrete call to Loki, he eats a hefty serving of crow compliments of Captain America instead. He is about to try out his new Aesir strength on the Capsicle when Fury steps in for the least inspiring pep talk of Tony's life, and by the time he escapes the barn he really is at the end of his rope. Oh well, he told Loki to call him on the secure line at nine anyway, and it's eight forty-five.
The sky is pink and orange, and the woods are droning with the chirps of cicadas like a pretentious indie movie. Trudging back up the hill, he finds a big tree and stands behind it, pulls the abomination phone out of his pocket and flicks the power supply switch. The light turns green, but the connection light is red and blinking. The signal needs calibration.
Tony fumbles for his locket and slips the chain over his ears, clicks the clasp and pries the halves apart. The dial has three lines of coordinates. One for him, one for Loki, and one that marks the distance between. Right now it's hovering around three thousand miles. Most days it's more like five hundred thousand light-years, so that's better than usual. Tony adjusts the matching dials on the side of the phone, does the can-you-hear-me-now walk until the red light goes solid. And then the mobile beeps.
There is a god, and he's calling Tony. Hammering the accept button, he presses the speaker to his ear and waits. There's a delay so severe that the previous models fried before they could even say hello, he estimates around forty five seconds. Finally, he hears something. It's faint, distorted. The reception morphs Loki's voice into a dubstep remix of a HAM radio, but it's him. Just the familiar cadence of his speech and the low timber in his vowels loosens the tension in Tony's jaw and stops his spiraling thoughts.
"How are you?" the contorted replication of Loki's voice asks.
"Three." Tony says, "How are you?"
More waiting. More spiraling thoughts. Tony hates doing nothing. He can't even pace or it screws up the signal, he just has to hang motionless until the phone either breaks or the call drops. He doesn't believe for a second that they will actually get to finish their conversation, because there's no way this hunk of junk lasts longer than a few minutes. Which, with the delay, is no time at all.
"Are you alone?" Loki asks, and Tony almost doesn't understand, it's so choppy and corrupted. Getting worse fast.
Tony looks around, finding that he almost doesn't care anymore. He's so tired of hiding this, and by now everyone knows but the Capcicle. Thor isn't even here. He fibs.
"Yes. Are you free? Can you come to me?" Tony asks, doesn't even think to specify his location. His mind is locked on the idea of having someone solid beside him. Bugs are probably nesting in his hair by now, he's itchy all over and really tired of being in this sweaty borrowed flannel. Hawkeye's rugrats are too quiet and too normal, and they make him miss the insanity waiting for him at home.
The interval when Loki's response should arrive passes and he thinks Loki's phone must have caught fire before his answer came through. His stomach sinks and he sighs, walks around the tree to go back to the house. And then runs into a solid chest, and feels arms wrap around his torso. He very nearly attacks him, contrives a dozen bad excuses for why he's sneaking around the woods, and then stops himself.
Loki's smooth voice burrows softly in his ear. "Where are we?"
"Safehouse. Kentucky, I think."
"You are indeed on the news again."
"Not my usual story." Tony sighs, "Guess I'm a super villain now."
"Finally, my secret prison fantasy can be actualized." Loki drawls, walking Tony back around the tree and out of sight. He's Jotun, Tony realizes, he barely noticed in the low light, but his fingers burn where they touch him.
Tony leans against the trunk. Tosses the phone to the ground and reels Loki in as close as he can. Normally holding him is like cuddling a porcupine, he's all bones and muscle and nowhere soft to put your head, but tonight he's bundled in a thick-knit cardigan and it makes him about eighty percent more hug-able than usual. The sweater softens his edges and brings with him the scents of a quiet night in Malibu. Tony fiddles with the chunky black buttons and inhales. There's a certain kind of perfume Loki puts on the curtains, and he smells like that with a hint of ash from the fire pit.
"You disappeared." Loki says.
"Times like that, you need space." Tony replies.
Loki nods. "I thought you were upset with me. For losing my temper."
Tony chuckles, "Are you kidding? That was the sexiest you've ever been."
Loki breathes out a deep laugh and slumps so his head rests on Tony's shoulder. Tony cups the back of his neck, force of habit.
"And now I feel foolish for worrying." Loki huffs, then stiffens, pulls back to study Tony's face, "You are distressed."
"Well it's-" Tony sighs, "Long day. Really long day."
Loki looks down and pushes up the sleeve of his cardigan, unbuttons his shirt cuff and shoves it up to his elbow. Strong fingers wrap around Tony's hand and place his palm on the underside of Loki's bare wrist where white lines stretch from his pulse point and up. He presses Tony's hand harder into his skin, and his eyebrows pinch.
"Something is not right with you. Were you hexed?"
"Shown." Tony corrects, and Loki drops his hand. Steps backward.
"You touched the Stone?"
The look chills Tony, the undisguised fear meeting his own shredded confidence and making an escalating unease pass between them back and forth. He scrapes at what is left of his rational mind for an explanation of what the hell Wanda Maximov did.
"There's a girl that got powers from it." Tony says, rubs his face and cuts to the chase. "I know what you meant now, about the visions."
"It must be some trick, the stones do not work remotely." Loki says.
"There was no trick, I saw it." Tony says, meeting Loki's eyes. Probably more than anyone else, he knows Loki will understand. That wasn't a nightmare, or PTSD, or an illusion, it was the truth. Cold, painful fact. "We lose, Lokes. Doesn't matter what I do, we lose."
Loki studies him, one of his searching looks that make Tony feel like he's under a microscope and some elemental secret of life is swimming in his cytoplasm. He shuffles back into Tony's space and kisses his neck. Long pianist fingers start to undo his belt and it feels like a violation. Tony doesn't want to reject him and see his eyes dim into mistrust and confusion, but this isn't what he needs from Loki.
"I don't think I can get it up right now…" Tony says, but the button of his pants is already open. Loki bites his neck and it isn't sexy, it just stings. Tony nudges his hands away and Loki sighs into the unpleasant wet spot on his neck. Drops to his knees and lines his face up. Tony's stomach turns.
"Stop, stop. You hate that-"
"I don't know how else to comfort you." Loki says, looking up at him. "Please, sir."
Tony winces, closes his belt. "The fuck kind of porn have you been watching?"
Loki blanches, and Tony cuts him off. He can sense a completely literal Asgardian answer on the way and he doesn't actually want to hear it. The skin under his clothes feels like it's reaching out for Loki, like he had all he needed until the two of them started talking, and now the comfort of contact is gone.
"You know what, nevermind." Tony says, "Just-"
"What do you need?" Loki asks, confused.
Tony sighs, sits down between the tree and Loki and tries to ignore the roots digging into his ass.
"If we lose, then what's the point of this?" Tony asks.
Loki chews the inside of his cheek, and meets Tony's eyes.
"The point… I suppose the point is that we will live our final days in the best of company. Attempting to stall the end." Loki says, "Is that not enough?"
"No." Tony says. "No. I want a life with you. A whole one."
"You have it." Loki says, snatching Tony's hand and squeezing. "Come now, you are being ridiculous. This is a child's prank."
Tony feels pinned. Suddenly he needs space. He pulls his hand away and stumbles to his feet. Paces a line toward the house and back.
"You're not listening!" Tony groans, scratching his beard. Son of a bitch, they've come full circle. "I'm telling you, it was real. It was my legacy. The end of the path I started us on."
"I am listening, idiot!" Loki hisses, following Tony on his anxious loops, "I hear a witless fool allowing himself to be demoralized and manipulated by a glowing rock."
"I am not-"
"You are!" Loki says, "How pathetically you moan your sorry fate while your creation wreaks havoc. This is not the man I allied with. Get up and do something."
"Like what, genius? Ultron's everywhere. He's in the net, his clones have clones. I designed him, okay, he's perfect. His code isn't hackable."
"Then why has he not yet succeeded?" Loki demands.
Tony stops, inside and out, so suddenly that Loki actually bumps into him. It's a good point. Yesterday the team determined that something was blocking Ultron from accessing nuclear codes, an unknown ally. Poking around the Avengers servers proved Ultron could cover his tracks, but maybe this third party wouldn't be so invisible? Maybe if Tony pretended to be Ultron, pretended to try and decrypt the codes, the ally would show themselves? A hand comes to his chin and breaks his concentration, and when he turns his attention back to the real world there's a cheeky smile waiting for him.
"Better?" Loki asks, arching a brow. A little flush at the ears from the risk of his gambit. No need, Tony fell for it hook, line, and sinker.
The kiss he gives Loki feels like coming home. Like the touch of his palms over Loki's jaw is him kicking his shoes off after a long day, and the first brush of lips is him shaking off his coat and hanging it on the hook. He pulls Loki down fast enough that the god stumbles and has to brace himself with a hand on Tony's hip, and he enjoys the feeling of supporting him. Loki tilts his head further aside as though to deepen the kiss and Tony withdraws, needs to look him in the eye and run that stray lock of hair behind his ear.
"When did you get so smooth?" he smirks.
Loki tilts his head and grins back. "I used to be so daring all the time. You've seen nothing yet."
Something shifts in his face after that, his gaze going far away and unfocused. Reflexively, his fingers twitch and an orb of green energy rises from his palm. The haze solidifies into a model of a bedroom with two beds, one of them stirring as a child sits up and looks around.
"Duty calls." Tony says, moving to run his thumb up Loki's exposed forearm. It's a treat to have him blue like this, so casually. Loki groans, and flicks his eyes closed.
"I love you." Loki says softly. Tony kisses him, a quick goodbye peck. Grips his arm and feels his pulse pick up, his skin tingle. It's rare thing for them to say it like this, point blank.
"I love you." he says.
When Loki disappears he doesn't feel unmoored or alone. Loki is on Earth, he has wards on all his loved ones, and he just went to extreme lengths to get Tony working again. He feels like everywhere he goes there will be an invisible guard dog watching from the shadows, waiting to jump to his defense at a moment's notice. He feels invincible.