Once the wolf gets in spitting distance, it transforms into a Jotun. That's really where things go south. As soon as both parts of the conversation are capable of speech they start arguing.
Watching the aggressive gestures from the sidelines, it's easy to guess the words. Even if he hadn't spent a month after Loki's fake death devouring Spanish soap operas, he's had this exact argument before.
Angrboða points in Loki's face, growling. 'You little bitch, don't you manipulate me.'
Loki squirms deeper into the snow. 'But I'm so pathetic, look at me. Don't you want to save me?'
Angrboða turns away, gritting their teeth. 'I'm smarter than this. I'm not doing this again.'
Loki weakly replies. 'But you have to. You love me, don't you love me?'
Tony can't look. It's the same song and dance, but instead of participating he has a front row seat. Or rather, he wishes he had a front row seat because then he would be sitting. Instead he's swaying on his feet and dreaming of a hot bath.
Soon the Jotun stomps away, and he watches them disappear in the blizzard.
Tony feels like his soul is leaking out his nose. His vision swims, the bleak surroundings going fuzzy until he realizes he's fainting and snaps awake.
"I'm guessing that didn't go well." he says.
"No." Loki replies. He tries to clear his runny nose and the cold air sends him into another fit of wet coughing.
"You don't look so good." Tony says, stumbling through the deep snow. His brain is on fire, but his body is listless, clumsy. He means to keep babbling, but he winds up leaning on a tree trying to catch his breath. He's crashing, dead weight in his suit.
"I cannot comment on your looks." Loki wheezes, and grabs a handful of snow. He rubs his hands together until it turns to slush and rubs it on his face.
Loki scours his eyelids and Tony waves his hand in a quelling gesture.
"Stop that, you're gonna make it worse."
"It already is worse." Loki says, his voice high and cracking. The water does get the soot out of his eyes, and now there are inky smears around them like Chinese calligraphy. Loki blinks narrowly, and his eyes look normal. For a Jotun, anyway.
"So this is where blueberries come from? Not exactly a beach resort." Tony says. "Why are we here?"
Loki does another charming rendition of the sniff and cough. "My magic. It must be restored."
The wind intensifies, and even Loki shivers.
"Doesn't look like your ex wants to help you."
Loki hugs himself. "In the past I went to Frigga-"
Tony winces, glad Loki can't see his face behind the helmet.
"Can you patch up without it? Not that this isn't important, but you look like a well done steak."
"I hoped my injuries would convince her." Loki admits.
Tony sighs. "Yeah, I noticed that. Dick move, by the way."
Loki slits his eye open. "What about you? Let me see you."
"Aww, he does love me." Tony says. His face plate slides up and the cold hits him like a brick. Loki frowns.
"It's not as bad as it looks. I'll be fine." Tony fibs, taking Loki's hand and wrapping his fingers around the locket.
Loki's face pinches. "We must return soon. I cannot go on like this."
"We will, princess. Calm your tits."
Loki huffs. "I despise that idiom."
A portal appears under them.
"Breasts are neither anxious nor calm." Loki bitches as they sink into the ether, "They are simply organs."
"I only say it 'cause you hate it." Tony snorts, and embraces the sensation of weightlessness.
They land on the mattress of their bed in Malibu. He clamors over the mass of pillows and nearly falls out of the armor the instant he's on his feet. When the hinges open he collapses face first. Then yells. Shit, the ribs. He's broken a lot of bones before, but the ribs really kill.
"Welcome home, Boss." FRIDAY chirps. "Should I call for Ms. Potts?"
"Not yet." Tony says, rubbing his face on the sheets. The smell of perfumed curtains and burning wood hits him like morphine. There really is no place like home.
Loki gingerly removes his clothes and armor, and just watching convinces Tony to stay in his scrubs for now. Raising his arms above his head would be torture.
"I could sleep for a century." Tony says.
The bed dips as Loki settles down in nothing but a fresh pair of boxer briefs.
"FRIDAY, set an alarm for 2114." Loki drawls.
Someone shrieks, and his eyes dart toward the noise. Hela's in the hallway, frozen midway through pulling on a hoodie.
"Pepper!" ze yells, and the rest is a blur of bodies and energetic words. The bed becomes very crowded very quickly.
"Oh my god." Pepper shouts, running in after the stampede of bite sized Jotun.
"You stink, daddy." Jori says, climbing on the bed.
Hela drags him off. "He's hurt, don't touch him."
"Did you get bar-be-qued?" Fenrir demands.
"Your grounded." Tony says. "Everyone's grounded. Go to your rooms."
A chorus of complaints erupts, and Pepper speaks over them. "He's joking. You know how Mr. Stark can be."
"Hey, no, this is not a drill. You're all super grounded." Tony interrupts, sitting up with an embarrassing grunt of pain. "But you know what would get you pardoned?"
"Grovelling." Hela says, smacking loudly on chewing gum.
"Burgers. A mountain of burgers." Tony declares with a regal gesture. And remembers the kids don't like burgers. "And masala. A tikka for every tot. That's your quest. Now away with you, get thee to thy Grub Hub."
Fen and Jori dash off, and Hela trails in their wake. Ze gives Tony a concerned look before heading downstairs, and his heart sinks. It's like ze has a whole new face, now that he knows what to look for. There's a similarity in their eyes, an almond shape that isn't Loki's. Ze has hir mother's horns too. It's stupid, the stab of loss. They were never his kids to begin with. He's being ridiculous.
"Where have you been?" Pepper whisper-shouts, and drags him back to the problem at hand. "My god, you're dressed like a doctor, you're-" She motions to her face. "You're bleeding. There's footage of you doing magic on the news."
"Pepper-"
"Don't you 'Pepper' me! You owe me an explanation."
Tony's too tired to be responsible. Laying very, very gently on his stomach, he lets his eyes slide shut. Pepper continues to pace and panic, but he's already half asleep.
"I'm just gonna-" take five.' he says. 'Rest my eyes, you know. Just for a minute.'
He feels like he's floating, slipping into hazy sleep. The pain and exhaustion drift away, and he smells fresh flowers. Hears the far off whirring of machines.
"Tony, can you hear me?" Steve Rogers asks.
"Mmnha-" Tony mumbles. His mouth feels funny. Heavy and half numb.
Unfamiliar hands hold his. "You're in the lab. What do you remember?"
"Lemme sleep."
Banner approaches wearing his lab coat and changes out the IV bag connected to Tony's wrist.
"Traitor." Tony says. It's too bright in here. He's dizzy, and everything's rocking like a rubber duck in a bathtub.
The big guy frowns, and takes his pulse. "It's bad this time, Tones. You've been out for a week."
Since when does Bruce call him Tones? The line between Banner's brow deepens. Oh, he said that out loud.
"FRIDAY, can you get Vision? I think we have another body snatcher." Bruce says.
Body snatcher? Tony giggles. That's ridiculous.
Then he laughs harder, because he giggled and that's so embarrassing.
Wow, they have him on the good drugs.
Loki appears. Everybody but Tony jumps. That's funny too.
"Heya Lo-ki." Tony sing-songs, "Lo-ki. Lo-ki. I love your name."
His not-fiance is wearing a weird drapey thing. It's orange. He takes a wide stance with his hands behind his back.
"Hello, Anthony. I have some questions for you." Loki says. Tony gets lost in his eyes. They're gold.
"I'm so high right now." Tony confesses.
Loki starts taking notes on a holo tablet. "What color is my soul?"
"How should I know?"
"What is the date?"
Tony has to think about it. "December, um, fourteenth?"
"Year." Loki prompts, eyes on his screen.
"Almost the New Year." Tony grins, remembering. "We should go see the ball drop. They'll put us on TV."
"Focus." Loki sighs. He's tired, his eyes are puffy.
"Sorry." Tony says, "2014. Almost 2015."
"Do you possess any Infinity Stones?"
"Reality. Little bastard. Shoulda listened to you."
Loki's lip quirks. Finally. Tough audience, this guy.
"Indeed." Loki says, looking over his shoulder. "Do we have a reading, Doctor?"
"Almost." Bruce says, "Another minute or so."
Tony reaches for Loki's hand, but he steps back.
"What year is it here?" Tony asks. Loki's lip quirks down.
"You heard the doc, we got a minute." Tony presses.
"2021."
"Woah. Should I buy Apple or Amazon?"
Loki tilts his head thoughtfully. "Pharmaceuticals spike 300% in 2017."
"Sweet." Tony says, eyes heavy.
Golden Eye's hair isn't slicked back, it's loose and curling all over the place. He should get Loki to wear his like that. It's so fluffy.
Loki dismisses the holo display. "Any more silly questions?"
"You're pretty." Tony mumbles.
Loki rolls his eyes. "I'm sure you say that to every God of Mischief you meet."
Tony smirks. "Only cause it's true."
A machine beeps on the other side of the room. With a nod from Banner, Loki steps closer.
"Thank you for your cooperation. Should we meet again, please identify yourself as Red 202."
"202? You get around, Snowflake."
Loki puts a hand on Tony's forehead. His eyes glow yellow. "I find that nickname offensive."
"No, don't taze me." Tony groans. He rolls on his side and his ribs scream. Returning to his front doesn't make it much better. Damn, he misses the drugs already.
Loki's spider web face swims into focus. He's unconscious, mouth slack and eyes moving under his lids. His hair is matted and he really needs a shave.
"You're an asshole, you know that? Every version of you." Tony tells him.
Loki snores.
Touché.
Sunlight pours through the billowing drapes, the doors to the balcony open and letting in a cool ocean breeze. He's naked from the waist up, and there's a bandage on his shoulder. Scanning the room he discovers a breakfast tray waiting on his bedside table. It's loaded with bacon, eggs, a stack of toast, and coffee. Hot, steaming coffee.
Sitting up with a groan, he snags the mug and downs half of it in one go. It's better than sex. For real this time, he means it. He would turn down a blowjob for a refill.
With the chemical magic of caffeine, he feels clear headed for the first time in a week. So much happened in such a short time, he feels jumbled. Thanos, the multiverse, Angrboða. The helicarrier, shit, all those bodies.
His heart skitters to a fast beat, and he clutches at his frayed control. Sucking down the usual calming breaths hurts his ribs, which in turn makes his heart beat faster. The mug burns a bit in his hands, and he closes his eyes.
The heat reminds him of Loki, his passion and attitude and inhuman skin. The man in question snores behind him, and he pats around the covers until he finds exposed skin. It's shameful, how quickly his nerves settle. He's not offering any reassurance, hell he's not even aware Tony's pawing him like a baby with a blanket. But his heart rate evens out.
A patio chair scrapes on the tile outside, and Pepper walks in looking windblown and sunny.
He looks closely, suspicious of her calm. "What day is it?"
"Hello to you too" Pepper says, checking her Stark watch.
"FRIDAY?" Tony interrupts.
"It is Monday, December 15, 2014, Boss."
She look over Tony's shoulder with raised eyebrows. "Am I interrupting something?"
"Hmm?" he answers intelligently, following her gaze. A roguish breaks over his face.
The exposed skin he found was Loki's thigh, the smooth part right under his butt. He's ticklish there, in the crease of his ass, and it's tempting. But Loki is deep asleep, limbs loose and mouth hung open in the kind of restorative slumber only a true sadist would ruin.
Tony looks back at his best friend and refuses to look chagrined. There's no reason this of all things should be the first time Pepper catches him feeling embarrassed.
She crosses her arms and shifts her weight to one side. "Are you going to tell me what's going on, or do I have to pull it out of you?"
"Well I was gonna play along, but now I'm thinking of 'pull it out' jokes."
"I should have stayed on the balcony with my e-book." Pepper says, picking up a slice of toast and piling eggs on top.
Tony steals the toast and takes a big bite. He talks with his mouth full. "But who would be your amazing, inspiring, wildly-"
"Inappropriate?"
"-charming best friend?"
Pepper gives him one of her exasperated smiles and makes another toast sandwich.
"I always wanted a cat." she says, sitting beside him. Her all-seeing eyes don't leave him, and it takes real effort not to squirm. She always makes him feel like a kid in the principal's office.
He scratches at the reactor scar and fidgets. "Pretty sure dogs are man's best friend."
"Well mine would be a cat." Pepper says, fiddling with her sandwich. "Will you at least tell me you're going to be okay?"
Tony shoves the rest of the toast in his mouth just to stall. Pepper sighs, taking small bites of her own breakfast and swiping the crumbs off her skirt.
"I'll be okay." Tony lies. His mouth feels dry, so he chugs the rest of the coffee despite the burn. "Do you ever wonder if you made the right call?"
"What if, you mean?" Pepper replies, setting her sandwich on the tray. "Not usually. But after an important decision, yes. Everyone does that."
Tony balks. "Not like that. Come on, this is me we're talking about."
"Then what are we talking about?" she says, blinking at him in her did you eat magic mushrooms again face.
"I mean existentially. If X didn't happen, would I still be Y? What if, like… You know what, nevermind. It's not important. What I'm trying to say is… And I'm not saying you did anything wrong-" Tony babbles, waving his empty mug. Pepper takes it from him and sets it on the side table.
"Are you asking why we broke up?" she asks.
"No! I mean, kind of. Because I know why. Or I think I do." he says, fiddling with the drawstring of his pants and checking her face. She looks like she's at a board meeting, perfectly composed and carefully polite.
"You're wondering what might have been?"
Tony's face pinches and he glances back at Loki for reassurance. Frosty's drooling on a pillow right where he left him. He sighs, and meets Pepper's assessing eyes.
"More like who I might have been. As in… Alright, here's an example. What if I was there when Killian came for you-"
"You think that's why we… Tony, it wasn't anything you did."
"It was a year ago, you can spare me the 'it's not you' talk."
"Oh it definitely was you." Pepper says with a fond smile. The one that always makes her look sad. She straightens her clothes, sighing. "It was New York. I was terrified, I wanted you with me, and… and you're on the news."
"To protect you-" Tony insists.
"And I admire that." Pepper says, sincerely, "But I deserve to have my boyfriend on the plane with me. And you deserve someone who will fly in the wormholes with you."
Tony stares at her, stunned. He never thought of it like that. On some level he thought she just hated her Christmas present.
She pats him on the leg and grabs his coffee mug. Loki's snoring sounds ridiculously loud in the silence as she walks onto the balcony and returns with a full cup.
"So for us to work-" he says, looking down at his fiddling fingers.
She holds the mug out for him, around the rim so the handle is free. "You would have to not be Iron Man. Which means, in my opinion, you wouldn't be you."
"I-" Tony stops, taking the mug and sighing. "Thanks."
"Will that be all, Mr. Stark?" she asks gently.
"That will be all, Ms. Potts."
When she walks into the hallway he feels lighter. He's not a mindless clone following his cosmic destiny. He's here because of the choices he made. All the other versions have nothing in common with him but a shared starting point.
There's still no clear reason why all these timelines are putting so much effort into manipulating his dimension. But it is a comforting notion, this idea that he's more than a pawn in it. He has influence over how this goes down.
He takes a sip of his coffee, and Loki's scratchy baritone warms him almost as much as the steaming drink.
"If that woman calls you Mr. Stark again, I am putting glue in her shampoo." Loki growls.
Jealousy is pretty rich, given what he just saw on Jotunheim. That argument between Loki and the she-wolf didn't look very past tense to him. Which pisses him off now that he thinks about it. All that talk about wanting to be his, and it turns out there's nothing ex about Loki's ex-wife.
Staring into his coffee mug, Tony blanches. If Loki never ended things, then Tony's not a rebound like he thought. He's a homewrecker. Son of a bitch, he's the other woman.
Dishing up a plate, he scoots to the middle of the bed and glares at his absolute tool of a partner.
"At least my ex knows we aren't together anymore." Tony says, looking at Loki sideways.
Loki has the decency to look sheepish. "If Angrboða does not think me lost it is hardly my fault."
"Somehow I doubt you had a conversation about it."
"It was two hundred years ago. The point is made."
"Yeah I don't buy that. There's five hundred years between Hela and Fen."
Loki shoots him a dour look, and shimmies up to lean on the tufted headboard. "Much of that time I was bound under a snake, if you must know. She knew my whereabouts."
"Wait, that legend is true?" Tony asks, perturbed. He busies himself with a spoonful of eggs just in case he looks alarmed. Loki tends to clam up if he reacts badly.
"I lost my temper and made a fool of myself at a banquet. To use Midgardian terms, She believed I had shit the bed, and thus I ought to lie in it."
Tony hides a grin in his coffee cup. "That's two different idioms, but go on."
"There's not much else to tell. The whole affair was unbearably tedious. It took three years to regrow my eyes."
That's the trouble with Loki's past. Answers only create more questions. Like what exactly pissed him off enough to crash a party and kink shame the guests.
Tony holds out a strip of bacon and pulls it back when Loki moves to take it.
"The whole story, or I eat all the bacon." he says, with a tilt of his head. He waves the strip and trusts the salty, delicious smell to do its job.
Loki purses his lips, looking around the room. "As a child I was betrothed to a woman named Sigyn. As we came of age I knew I could not give her children."
"Not your type?" Tony asks.
"Like most women, she lacked certain anatomical features." Loki hedges. "But she had a paramour on Anaheim, and we came to an agreement. I acknowledged her children as my own, and she kept her silence."
"About your preferences?" Tony says before his partner can pick a less kind word. Loki nods.
"We got along, and I actually quite liked her. But I never told her about Angrboða."
"Who I assume does not lack anatomical features."
Loki's smirk is telling, and very smug. "We don't call them giants for nothing."
"Should I feel threatened?" Tony jokes, and if there's an edge of insecurity he hopes Loki won't call him out for it. His partner eyes him, like the notion is there and very tempting. But then he looks down and pokes at the breadcrumbs on the plate.
He bites his lip and his face softens. "There are qualities of a person more important than a measurement."
Something flips in Tony's stomach at the look, a faint echo of the attraction that used to take over when Loki looked at him. The feeling is different now. Tempered and harder to define. It's dedication, he realizes. A commitment to see this through until the end. The intensity scares him, and he scrambles for some scrap of humor to hide behind.
"So am I up to snuff? 'Cause there are pills and supplements-"
Loki's ears burn indigo. "Don't make me say it."
"-and now that I think of it, Gates recommended a specialist that one time. What was his name? FRIDAY, did we put that in memory?"
"Don't answer that, you blasted machine-"
"Dr. David Lorita." FRIDAY says, "Would you like me to schedule an appointment?"
"Sure, why not?" Tony says, tearing up the last piece of toast and tossing the bits in his mouth.
"You are sufficiently endowed, and I like your cock." Loki snaps, "Are you happy now, you insufferable philistine?"
Tony loses it, his laughter echoing down the hall. Followed by an undignified yelp when the convulsions tweak his broken ribs. He hisses, working to breathe shallowly around the self-inflicted torment.
"Serves you right." Loki sniffs, reaching over Tony's lap to grab the whole stack of bacon.
"Flattery will get you everywhere." Tony says, scooping up a spoonful of eggs and holding it out. Loki accepts it, and licks his lips after.
"Where was I?" Loki asks, stealing a sip of Tony's coffee.
"You had two wives and a deep dark secret." he prompts.
Loki's face twists. "It sounds maudlin when you put it like that. But all the same, yes, I was living a double life. I was also serving as Thor's vizier, and growing discontent. I started making mischief. Nothing drastic, some deals with dwarves and the like. But Asgardians are not known for their good humor."
"So you pissed off the wrong people and they went looking for dirt." Tony surmises.
"Precisely. It would have been enough that I had a mistress, but the fact that she was Jotun made it a scandal. There had been whispers about me, but I was discrete. They never had proof."
"Until Angrboða."
Loki nods, jaw tight. Tony's aware that he shouldn't get worked up about something that happened in the Stone Age. He still does though.
"So the busy bodies outed you, and you thought you'd get them back by airing all their dirty laundry."
Loki's face says it all. Regret, shame, a spark of lingering self-righteous rage. "It was a mistake. I never reclaimed my title. Dull as things were, I was respected and the position suited me. I cannot say the same for my life after the binding."
Silence reigns while they finish off whatever food they can steal from each other.
Loki chews on his toast thoughtfully. "I suppose Miss Potts does make a good breakfast."
"You should feel honored. She only cooks for people she likes."
Loki snags the TV remote and turns on some British baking show. His hand lands beside Tony's leg and after a minute it's burrowed underneath.
Tony sips his coffee and tries to get comfortable despite his ribs hurting in every position he tries. Loki fidgets beside him, coughing on and off to the reality show's cheerful music. After a particularly violent episode he stalks to the bathroom.
"Lokes?" he calls, ribs twinging when he gets himself up. About eight different joints complain about the walking, but he didn't get where he is by listening to warning signs.
Shuffling around the bed, he makes his way to the doorway and finds Loki kneeling at the throne. The sound is awful, and he's torn between holding Loki's hair out of the way and filling up his coffee cup with water. The shock of the toilet bowl turning red has him scooting out like a coward, and he grabs the mug just to cover his unmanly retreat.
By the time he returns most of the retching is over, but Loki's still laying there spitting out chunks of clotted, black gunk. Ugh, Tony will be next if he doesn't stop soon. That is just too nasty.
Dumping the last dregs of coffee from the mug, he fills it with clean water and sets it on the counter.
"Internal bleeding." Loki groans in the same tone Pepper used to say menstrual cramps. Like it's mildly irritating, and not nightmare fuel.
Tony hands him the water.
"I would mend a bone anyday over this." Loki says, swishing the water and spitting into the toilet. "Seidr burns."
"That stone punched your ticket pretty good." Tony says, pushing the button and the tank and watching the viscera swirl down the drain. "Just wait 'til your skin starts to peel."
"That, as they say, shall be fun for the whole family." Loki grunts, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and sitting on the toilet.
On a kind of silly impulse, Tony opens the mirror cabinet and pulls out the burn creme. Scanning the label, he blinks at the list of ingredients. It's funny, he used to slather himself in the stuff almost daily. Overheated suits, solder burns, reactor shorts. Nowadays that stuff's gone by dinner time.
He unscrews the cap and squeezes out a blob on his palm. Tipping Loki's chin up, he taps dots of white ointment along the spider web burn.
"There's no need." Loki says with a bland expression. He's starting to recognize that look. It's Loki judging himself for enjoying something, and silently hoping Tony gives him an excuse to continue.
"I don't want it to scar." Tony says, running a finger down Loki's chin and accidentally leaving a soul patch behind. He draws a curly mustache and Loki scowls. He looks dastardly. And cute.
Tony snorts and Loki throws off his hands, standing up.
He puts his clean hand on Loki's crown. "Sit down, Lokes."
Loki's nostrils flare. "I will not be mocked. Not anymore and certainly not by you."
"I'm not laughing at you, You looked cute." Tony says.
Loki sits, pouting. "I doubt that."
Tony's lip twitches downward, and he corrects it. They're playing at the edges here, and he doesn't want to send mixed signals. Working from one side of the burn to the other, he rubs in the ointment. It clearly stings, but Loki stays still.
"You need to stop contradicting me, Slugger." he says, wiping away the moustache and memorizing the novel scratch stubble on Loki's jaw.
Loki swallows, eyes hungry. "Why do you call me that?"
"You don't know?"
"Urban dictionary was inconclusive."
"It's boxing slang for a fighter that doesn't pull punches." Tony says.
Loki looks at him in that not-quite-hopeful way of his. "I fail to see how that is an endearment."
"It's what I like about you." Tony shrugs, rubbing in the last of the creme. "We can play games in private, but outside of that? I don't want you to take shit from anyone. Including me. Especially me."
"You say these things, but you don't mean them." Loki says, his face crumbling and body leaning forward. "When I try, you never listen."
Tony sighs, because it's true. The titan, Maw, the stones. Loki warned him about everything, and he charged right into it. And this time it nearly go them killed.
Loki grips his knees and hisses when the nails dig into healing burns. "You either value my opinion or you do not, you cannot tell me one and do the other."
Tony sucks in a breath. He's tiptoeing on that pit of despair again, but this time he's ready for it. For once not pushing all the bad feelings into a box, he falls to his knees between Loki's legs and tries to remember that tuned-in feeling from the holding cell. The sense of safety that made vulnerability addictive instead of unbearable.
"You're right. You are absolutely right." he says, digging his fingers into Loki's hair and meeting his gaze. "I did something stupid, and rash, and it won't happen again."
No one is more surprised than Tony when Loki leans in and kisses him. His lips taste like copper, which is, okay, ew, don't think about it. Because it's also sweet, and it's something Loki gives purely because he wants to. No hidden permission or Jedi mind tricks. He shows Loki his fear, the real depth of his terror, and Loki leans in. So they kiss, and avoid each other's wounds, and try not to think about their imminent deaths.
And when they're done Tony brushes his teeth. Because, seriously, ew.