Loki wakes to gritty eyes and sore muscles. Sighing heavily, he makes his way to the living room to attend Breakfast, now including the mighty Thor. He's surprised to find Stark already there, and on his second cup of coffee of the day, if his conversational skills are any indication. Either Stark is moving too fast or Loki is too slow, but Tony speaks, "Hey, Loki, sorry, gotta dash back to the lab, I left Jarvis with the renders for a new suit and they should be done about now."
As Tony turns around, holding his third cup of coffee, Loki can only blink blearily. "Wow," Tony says, finally slowing down. "You all right there, Hocus Pocus?"
"Leave it, Stark," he answers with a sigh, reaching around the other man to get to his tea.
"Aaaaand with that, you just basically gave me permission to meddle," he says with a grin, pointing at Loki's face with his cup of coffee. "You're way more interesting than my renders now, anyway. So what is it?"
"I don't feel like arguing with you," Loki counters dryly and turns his back, walking away briskly.
"Are you mad at me?" Tony asks loudly, and Loki pauses, takes a deep breath. "Because experience says I'm shit at noticing when people are mad at me; it's best to just tell me." He sounds remorseful, and like he's coming up with scenarios in his head. "So, are you?"
"No," Loki sighs out, dragging a hand down his face, "I'm not angry at you, Tony."
It'll have to do, he thinks, walking out of the common areas to barricade himself in his room.
He's going in circles, has been going in circles for several hours now, and the prognosis is that if he doesn't get out of his head soon, he's going to scuff literal rings in the carpet where he's been trying to pace his thoughts away. It's frustrating and leaves him feeling like he could vibrate out of his skin with the tension.
When Loki was smaller, he used to have coping mechanisms for that feeling. Granted, a sudden burst of magic expanding around him and pushing everything in its path down to the floor wasn't exactly the healthiest way to deal with the excess energy, but at least he didn't feel caged within himself like he does now.
He's helpless without his magic, and now the horse hair bracelet he's wearing feels more like a taunt than actual, useful information, because until he recovers his power he can't help his son. He groans out loud, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes and then deciding that what he's doing feels too much like a temper tantrum and therefore, needs to stop. One quick shower later he rejoins the Avengers.
"He lives!" Tony exclaims dramatically when he sees him, clapping him companionably on the shoulder before turning back towards the TV. There's an F1 race going on, and pretty much everyone is paying attention to it. When Loki takes his usual seat, Tony explains, "That blue car right there?" It zooms past the screen, hugging a curve, "That's Stark Industries. We used to have a very decent pilot whom I pissed off into quitting two years ago,"
"Understandable," Loki interjects,
"-and we've had a couple of crap guys since then, but this new pilot shows promise."
Bruce scoffs and Clint, who's holding Natasha's legs on his lap, pipes up, "There's a betting pool. Right now we have Tony and Cap rooting for his pilot, even odds for him crashing or somehow not finishing, and everyone but Bruce betting for a flashy explosion during the race, though he only does that on principle, I know you wanna see stuff blow up, Brucie, I'm onto you." He points at Banner with an accusatory finger and Banner grins innocently.
"Deal me in in support of the pilot, and yes to the explosion," Loki says curtly, a little uncertain still when dealing with Barton, though the archer seems to have mostly forgiven him for brainwashing him.
Two bowls of popcorn later, Loki loses ten dollars on the pilot, who nevertheless managed fourth place, and gets five back from Banner for a three car pileup which ends in the last one of those skidding off towards the barrier and the pilot jumping out and rolling away twenty seconds before it blows up, fire on the screen illuminating the awed faces and grimaces of everyone in their seats.
_oOo_
It's only after being dragged down from the common rooms and into the gym by Tony that Loki manages to feel like he doesn't have magic crawling all over him. They've had another boxing session (Tony calls it boxing, though really Loki uses variations of martial arts and Tony sticks to a strong defence and a series of jabs) and Tony's still resting down on the mat when the norse god walks over to one corner of the rung in order to get some water. Tony stretches a hand in that direction, looking longingly at his bottle, but far too lazy to get up just yet. Loki just huffs out a laugh and passes it to him.
After a quick "Thanks," Tony guzzles down the whole bottle in long, desperate gulps and spreads out on the mat again with a contented sigh.
"I know you want to distract me," Loki says after a long silence, refusing to look at Tony, "thank you."
"No big, Reindeer Games," he replies while sitting up and running a hand through his sweaty hair, "I recognise avoidance when I see it; I've done enough of it myself, though usually it ends up in the bottom of a bottle, in my case."
Loki doesn't know what he's supposed to do with that information, so he says nothing and runs a thumb over a raised "S" on the index finger of his other hand. As is becoming the norm, it's Tony again who drags him out of his thoughts.
"It might be better," he begins hesitantly, "if I actually knew what you were avoiding, though God knows I of all people would understand if you would rather keep it to yourself."
"I would," is Loki's cutting reply.
Tony's ability to shrug everything off surprises Loki once again when the man only says, "No problem, dude," and gets up, grinning down at the sorcerer. "Come on, I need to shower again. And possibly a chiropractor," he adds with a groan.
"Turn around, you big child," Loki rolls his eyes and starts poking at Tony's upper back when he complies. Once he finds a knot of tension among the muscle, he pushes down with a thumb into Tony's back. There's a small pop, a grunt from Tony, and then a relieved sigh. He repeats this process two more times, the last bringing forth the loudest pop and a loud groan, and Tony's knees actually buckle from the release of tension. When he rights himself back up, there's a small "Huh," and then he stretches and sighs.
"Man, that feels better. What did you do?" He asks Loki, turning to face him. "I feel at least an inch taller."
"You slouch when you're tense," Loki offers smugly, leading the way into the elevator.
"You really have to explain the limitations of those runes better, Hocus Pocus, because I was sure you couldn't do your mumbo jumbo and then you went and realigned my chakras or some shit." Tony's still stretching every which way with a small smile on his face.
"That doesn't require much energy from me. Some kinds of magic have always been easier for me to perform," Loki explains, "like healing and illusions. Elemental magic, too, although nothing quite like Thor and his hammer." There's an undertone of bitterness there, and apparently Tony notices, since he turns to look at Loki, but he remains quiet. "Most people are much better versed in spells; it's why my mother is…" He grimaces, "was quite the celebrity in Asgard. Healers do not abound."
"Why do you do that?" Tony interrupts, stops him from heading off into his room with a hand on his arm, "Why is it always Odin the Allfather and you deny every family tie to him but you call Frigga your mother without a second thought?"
Loki gapes for a second before starting on a trademark glare because how dare this little mortal ask those questions?
"Never mind!" Tony's hands are up in a submissive gesture, "Just… forget I asked, okay? Thanks again," he finishes and heads to his room.
"Frigga taught me how to use my magic," Loki offers to his retreating back. "She never judged me for my affinity for deceptive spells and called it a gift instead." Loki continues, eyes downcast, "As much as she could, she acted like a mother to me."
It still hurts to talk about her in the past tense. It's like there's a hook lodged behind his ribcage. He doesn't expect to be enveloped in a hug, but that's clearly what this is. Tony holds onto him for a few long seconds and whispers, "I'm sorry for your loss, Loki."
Loki deems this sincere enough and hugs him back.
Later, when he's reading in his room, he will stop and wonder why contact with Tony isn't all that uncommon anymore, and when, exactly, this stopped bothering him. Because it's true that the easy friendship they're growing towards is something that even Loki can recognise is good for him. For both of them.
_oOo_
Loki's hiding in his room. He's not proud of the fact, but this is still not enough to overcome his need to escape from Thor. The relationship between them has, in the year that Loki's been acting as a consultant and extended Avenger, improved greatly, but Loki still remembers the last time he'd talked to Thor and he's sure his adoptive brother will have several questions regarding his storming off after being given a seemingly innocuous woven bracelet. And Loki's still not certain what he wants to do in regards to that, so Thor remains best avoided.
The alarm, thankfully a steady beep instead of a shrill, panic-inducing noise, distracts him and drives him to his feet and down into the common floors quickly.
The Avengers are already gathered there, their gear in different states of readiness.
"Magneto," the Widow explains to Banner, who's the last one to arrive through the elevator.
"Where are Xavier and his kids?" Tony asks the room at large while his armour assembles itself around him, its pieces flying about directed by Jarvis.
"Held up inside the mansion, somebody set a fire and they have to get everybody out first," replies Hawkeye.
"What can I do?" Asks Loki, tightening the straps of Thor's armour at his shoulders where the thunderer can't easily reach them.
"You have no magic, Loki," says Banner, fussing with Hawkeye's arrowheads and handing him a different kind to take, "and there's no room on the street for the Hulk, so we'll have to sit this one out." He nods to Hawkeye and says, "Ready. Be safe, guys."
The team heads out and Loki sees red.
"I have my knives," he bites out, "I'm not useless without magic."
"Knives would get you killed against Magneto, everything with metal will be a disadvantage, you're better off on medical duty," Bruce explains quickly.
"And will Tony and Thor be alright, then? Mjölnir is nothing but metal, as are the MK suits," Loki replies, still cross.
"Mjölnir only responds to Thor, and Tony's suit is not really magnetic. It's made out of an alloy with no magnetic pull." Bruce turns on the news, a holographic screen appearing in front of the couch and showing, on one half, the coverage of the battle and on the other, the Avengers' comms.
The battle unfolds quickly in front of both their eyes, Bruce at one point leaving the couch to gather the med-kit from the kitchen. Even if the team took no metal into the fight, there's plenty on the streets to be used against them. Captain America and the Widow are avoiding a lamppost that swings at them every few seconds, Hawkeye is trying to hit Magneto with arrows and failing since every once in a while, a car levitates and covers the villain, and Tony's flying away from a series of live power cables which try to coil themselves around him. Magneto levitates in the centre of this three-front attack and basically flings his power at anything that moves.
"What is Magneto doing here at all?" Loki asks suddenly, when help for the Avengers is still nowhere in sight and the villain appears to be working alone, "He's evidently a diversion, but from what?"
Bruce shakes his head, "I thought as much, but I don't know. Probably whatever is happening at the mansion is the main objective."
"They need help," Loki mutters, eyes fixed on the screen where Black Widow has a clearly broken arm from the lamppost she failed to avoid. An arrow ricochets off Magneto's helmet and he turns around to compensate for Hawkeye's change in building, lifting his car-shield to block other attacks. Iron Man has been getting progressively closer and manages to shoot a single bolt before being mummified in the power cables. Magneto turns towards his captured Avenger and grins with an almost sadistic undertone. He starts clenching his hand and the cables constrict.
Captain America manages to get Magneto's attention with a quick throw of his shield, however, Iron Man's suit is sparking in places, the metal bent out of shape.
"Shit," hisses Bruce, eyes on Tony's vitals from his transmitter. "The suit's too tight, he's not breathing right and the pressure around the reactor is building."
"Widow has to stop using that arm or she'll cause irreparable damage," replies Loki. "They won't last much longer out there. Jarvis? Give us an estimate for the X-Men."
"Blackbird en route, Master Loki. Estimated time to arrival clocks at two minutes," the AI replies smoothly.
"Thank you. Watch for further damage to Iron Man."
"Cap!" Calls Bruce, opening up the comm, "the X-Men are on their way, but you have to send Iron Man and Black Widow back ASAP."
"Copy that," replies Captain America.
Thor flies into the fray, Mjölnir clutched tightly in his hand, and aims towards Magneto. The hammer should have hit its mark full-on, but instead it slows down before collision, stopping several feet off the mark. Magneto has a face of total concentration, using most of his power on stopping the force behind it.
Thor is frowning and working up a sweat, pushing Mjölnir forward with sheer brute strength and willpower, but he doesn't manage to get much closer.
Bruce and Loki sigh in relief when they see Black Widow sprinting towards Cap, whose shield she then uses to propel herself high into the air. Widow clamps onto Magneto's back, struggling to take off his helmet just as the Blackbird, with charred wings and flaking paint, hovers above them.
The Black Widow's still clinging to Magneto, managing to land several punches and kicks on the villain before he flings her off at last. She falls several feet and lands smoothly on the street below, clutching her broken arm to her chest.
The Avengers all seem to sag in relief as the skies darken and Storm appears, white eyes and outstretched arms. Thunder rumbles and she says, "We can handle him from here, thank you Avengers."
Cap turns towards his team.
"Iron Man, can you fly?" he asks Tony. The man has been leaning against an upturned car, chest heaving, but he runs a quick system check and nods.
"Thor, take Tony and Nat back to the tower. Hawkeye, remain in position, we'll stay and help," orders Captain America, and he runs off to coordinate with the X-Men.
"Roger," says the Hawk. Thor holds out an arm for Natasha, who holds on to him with her good hand and they take off, Tony's suit trailing behind them.
_oOo_
The trio makes it to the landing deck quickly, Natasha and Thor heading inside towards where Bruce is already getting out the antiseptic wipes. Loki hurries outside to meet Tony.
"Jarvis, get me out of here!" he's calling a bit breathlessly. The mechanical arms are working as quickly as they can, but the crunched plates in the armour won't release.
Loki steps up and pulls Tony's arm around his shoulders. "Take a deep breath," he instructs, and leans Tony's torso back as much as the suit pieces allow.
"Fuck, that hurts!" yells Tony, but he stays still while the arms work. Loki reaches for the loosened parts and finishes tugging them free, starting with the ones around Tony's ribs and lower back and ending with the chest piece. He winces in sympathy when he sees that the jagged edges have cut through Tony's jumpsuit.
Tony takes a step forward and then stumbles, groaning in pain and clutching at his left side. He pales suddenly, his breath wheezing.
"Damn," Loki mutters, helping Tony inside and sitting him down on the couch as gently as he can. Tony's breathing more shallowly, and when he tries to open his jumpsuit and bare his chest he lets out a wet gurgle.
Loki reaches for him. "Let me, I think you broke some ribs. Jarvis, scans," he requests while slowly exposing Tony's chest. There's a couple of gashes, though what's most alarming is the bruising on the mortal's side, purpling already. Loki reaches into the kit for the largest needle they own and removes the embolus. Tony wheezes wetly, coughs. "Calm down, it's alright," the sorcerer soothes while counting Tony's ribs. He quickly jams the needle between two of them, listening for the tiny hiss that signals Tony's lung inflating again. With a sigh of relief, he rests a hand on Tony's heaving chest until the man is breathing normally again.
"Do you feel better?" Tony nods in reply, looking quite frightened with a needle still sticking out of his side. Loki holds out a hand for something to clean Tony's wounds with and Thor passes him the antiseptic wipes and bandages.
"You broke two ribs and punctured your lung," Loki explains while placing the last of the tape over the gashes on Tony's stomach and lower ribs. "Normally, I'd bind your chest but I want to see if I can fix your lung first." He looks down at the lines of runes on his arms and hands, thinking quickly, then smirks down at Tony. "Don't move, now."
Tony just glares pointedly at the large needle and quirks an eyebrow at Loki, the corner of his lips turning upward. The fact that Tony manages to find humour in almost everything astonishes and reassures Loki, so he finishes rolling up his sleeves and lays a hand over Tony's ribcage under his chest and the other on the side of his torso, cradling the break and puncture between his hands.
The sorcerer takes a deep breath and reaches for his magic in a practiced move. He knows he has few seconds until the wards carved onto his hands react against him, so he concentrates on trickling healing energy into Tony with precision. With one hand, he pulls out the needle and tosses it aside. He has to grimace then, since his hands start to heat up quickly, but he keeps them in place until, with a soft popping sound, Tony's ribs realign and fit together again. It's all he can manage before his eyes close and he falls to his knees.
"Loke?" Tony asks, breathing heavily, the first words he's said in quite a while. "You okay there, Hocus Pocus?" The voice is suddenly too cautious and worried.
Loki opens his eyes.
And panics.
He's blue. He can see the puff of condensation from his own rapid breaths and he's blue. His hands have started bleeding from the raised markings, red bubbling slowly and sluggishly from the reopened wounds. The blue is not receding.
Tony reaches out a hand to steady him and Loki flinches back.
"Don't touch me!" he snaps, coming back to his senses. "You'll get frostbite."
Tony pulls his hand back. He seems concerned and Loki turns back to stare at him earnestly.
"You just watched me change into a monster," he says, wringing his hands as if that will rub away the colour like paint, "and I can't turn back. No, I don't suppose I'm 'okay'." He blinks, sighs, and gets back on his feet shakily. "I have to go."
Loki rushes to his room, ignoring the calls of his name coming from behind him and locking the door quickly. He crawls into the covers on the bed with a dry throat in an effort to get his body warm enough to bring back pink skin, even though he knows the unlikely use of it to begin with. The sheet is quickly wrapped around his lightly bleeding hands and with a quiet command, he silences Jarvis, turning deaf ears on the world around him. He's blue. He's Jötunn blue. He's monster-under-the-bed blue, and not turning back.