A/N: So, guess who finally got their laptop fixed? ME! No more having to go to the library to post new chapters guys! Thank you to all those who had your fingers crossed, and in repayment, I present to you my longest chapter yet.

Chapter 4.2: Growing Up Part: 2

Last time on Tony Lokison…

"He's gone…" Loki whispered into the cushion, holding it closer to his chest.

A dip in the bed was his only warning, before two large beefy arms wound their way over his shoulders. Collapsing over the filling bask of emotion he'd been holding in, he allowed himself to be held tightly to his brother. Tears streaked his cheeks, dripping from the tip of his nose to the armor Thor was still dressed in.

"We will find him, Loki," Pulling back to gaze into his brothers twinkling azure eyes, confidence shining as deep as the blue they were set upon, "We will find him, and we will never let him go again."

And for once, the trickster believed in the impossible.

They would find Tony.

Soon.

The first thing he noticed when he regained consciousness, was that this weren't his chambers. Father wasn't sitting by his bed with an irritated look on his face, questioning why the genius couldn't get up on time like everyone else.

In fact Father wasn't even in the room, no one was.

Strange…

A chill rattled his small body, as his hands roamed the stone floor below him. Darkness blinded him from finding his bed in this twisted version of a bedroom

Crawling across the ground, he roved the surroundings for a light of some sort, but was instead met with a rough terrain under his palm. It scraped the small digits and left tiny nicks and cuts along his still chubby fingers. Soil crusted in the crevasse of his nail, and an earthly scent clogged the air.

No… This was not his room.

So where was he?

Taken by the enemies of the crown, hidden away from the sight of even Heimdall? Impossible. No one but his own father had the power to…

Oh All-Father.

That couldn't be it, right? No, his father would not just leave him here. His dad loved him more than anything else, even if Tony was on his last nerve. He would never put him in the ground to die slowly from asphyxiation. But then how did he end up here?

"I think I can answer that one, young prince."

Tony turned his sightless gaze towards to corner of the room, even though he knew it was pointless. There was no way he would be able to look at his intruding company in this black abyss.

"Who's there?" A crack betrayed the tough exterior the genius had hoped to portray. But, was it really his fault? Tony had always hated the dark, and being encompassed in it now was not helping him overcome it.

Malign laughter met his words, as soft, barely-there footsteps echoed quietly in his prison. Suddenly, a dainty hand appeared from behind his back. Smooth skin dragged across his rough, greasy curls, pulling from the top of his skull, to the base of his neck. While normally this motion would be soothing to him, the hand providing the comfort was all wrong.

He wanted his father; he didn't want this fake endearment. He wanted Loki to be caressing him, not this creepy lady.

Before he could explain his feeling to the woman, she began speaking again.

"You are precious, my tiny one. I cannot wait for when Thor arrives to collect you. Then your father will realize his mistake in denouncing my love of him, and we can all become a wonderful family. Won't that be nice?" She paused in her ministration, glancing down at the protégé currently caught in her claws.

Tony froze for a moment, confusion eating at his thoughts. What does his uncle have anything to do with him? True, he and Thor were very close, but Tony highly doubted that his father would simply allow them to adopt him. And even if he was fine with it, Tony doesn't think he, himself, would want that. While this female had yet to harm him, that didn't really mean anything in the long run.

Opening his mouth to alert her of this, Tony turned to face his new companion. Gold bled into his memories, tearing at what he'd come to know.

This woman- no, this monster took him. Took him away from his home. Took him away from his family. Took him away from Loki.

From everything.

Why?

Shoving her hands as far away from him as possible, Tony threw himself into the far wall. Rock and debris rained down from the ceiling, cluttering the already thick air in dirt. He choked on the particles catching in his lungs, rapping his chest with both tight fists.

It would prove to be useless.

Sinking to one knee, Tony began coughing with all his might. Fighting the dust out of his body was proving to be a vein effort.

"Oh, you'll be fine," Thunder booms from above, and the blonde beauty giggles to herself. Tony can't help but wonder why? Usually, when people hurt a member of their family, Thor becomes very angry with the culprit. Why would someone be happy to have evoked the rage of the, normally kind, thunder prince? While it made little sense to Tony, he accepted it. This woman had yet to prove that she wasn't off her rocker, so it was understandable that she might be missing a few marbles.

Or, well, all of her marbles.

"I think we have a guest, wouldn't you say? I'll see you in a moment, my little one." A sizzle lingers in the air even after Tony could no longer hear her breathing.

Tony wheezed in the gritty air, his throat drained of any cooling moisture and replaced with searing sand. What he wouldn't give for a glass of water right now. The poisoned oxygen was clawing away at his insides, frying his innards again and again, over and over.

Wash.

Rinse.

Repeat.

Until he could no longer take any in, and passed out.

Beautiful light grew from the night, eating away the stars in the sky and claiming them in morning. Animals sang in the dawn, as though the sallow deity in the heavens could forgive their omission sins. Every creature inhabiting the nine realms praised Odin for the new day, shrieking in the various tongues in his name.

Except for Loki.

He paced the trail of insanity he'd formed into the Earth, unbridled anger etched deep into the lines of his face. Anthony was missing, gone, taken, from him, and the imbeciles he was forced to associate with had no bloody clue as to where he could have gone. No one had an inkling of thought as to who could have stolen a royal prince's heir. What's worse, Loki had been dismissed, dismissed, when he suggested using Heimdall's magnificent gift.

Apparently, protecting the Bifrost was more important than finding his 'stolen relic', as expressed by the Warriors Three. He wouldn't be shocked if those blunders had something to do with this misgiving, and if they did…

Massacres would be nothing compared to the ultimate destruction that would befall them. Loki would be sure of that.

A loud eruption sounded behind his head, close enough to kill a normal man. The mischief prince started, eyes wide at the damage coated in a lingering green. Bits of twisted metal scattered across the marble, catching in various crevasses on the tile.

Calming himself quickly, he guided his thought in a different direction. Growing enraged now would be futile, only inconveniencing them further. Again, Loki tried to locate the link tying him to Tony, and again it returned blank. Either the kidnapper had power in magic, or (and Loki really hoped it wasn't this) Tony didn't want to be found.

Or he's already gone.

The trickster banished that idea completely, locking it in the darker recesses of his mind. No, Tony was alive. Lonely, sad and maybe hurt, but still breathing.

He would know if his son were gone, he would feel the anguish consume whatever was left of his soul, pitting him with the other misguided demons plaguing shadowed corpses. He would know, as soon as the last breath ripped out of his son's throat, taking with it the life he cared for on to better places, leaving Loki to wallow in the remains. Leaving him to squander his very heart to the black rustic powers to bring his child back.

He would do it now, Loki knew, if it brought back the only happiness endeared into his long, troublesome, life. Crushing pain wormed its way into his chest cavity, as a voice whispered close to his ear.

What if he never comes back? What if this is fates way of punishing you for your crimes?

No…No.

The Norns wouldn't punish a child, not for the sins of the father. Not for the misguided deeds with which Loki has tarnished his innocence like a white sheet stained crimson. They wouldn't claim Tony responsible for the horrid faults of a trickster, corrupt a life so youthful for an error he had not consigned.

Slamming sounds drew the young prince out of his thoughts, though they remained as echoed monotones pleading for a piece of his sanity. Thor glared at the floor by Loki's feet, fists clenched and twitching in fiery passion. He didn't need to say anything; the younger already knew what neither wanted to admit.

No one would help them.

No one.

They were on their own, like always. Odin wouldn't even take a brief moment to glance the universe for Loki's heart. He had the audacity to breathe and continue to love while his son was breaking from the inside out. How is he suppose to find the joy that would glue his heart back together when no one else seemed to an ounce of care? If they didn't find him, Tony would be gone forever. Locked in a cage of sorrow, singing the songs of freedom in the form of dying wails. Be gutted in loneliness and driven mad in corruption.

No. No. No.

It would not happen, not while he was still breathing. They would find his light, before it could be stolen to the darkness. He would find him, and never let him go again. Trample the connections between the royal families and him and leave. Whisk his son to a place where no one would find them, cut any ties he has with the outside world and teach him alone. While Loki would miss his mother, he knew this was the only way. For as long as Tony is a royal prince, people will continually try to rip away the only thing that made Loki joyful. They would always try to blind his young child in the black despaired destruction that had constantly followed the trickster since he was a babe. An arsenal of lies, tearing apart the truth, on a never-ending battleground. And it would not stop, not until Loki did something about it.

Pitiful sighs seemed blared in the constant silence, like a log falling in an empty forest. Thor lifted his face for a moment, opening his mouth several times, before resolutely looking down in shame, once again.

No, it didn't need to be said. Loki had already known that he would fail.

And yet, the knowledge still managed to wound him. Burning like fire down his throat and spitting back up in boiling venom, it finally settled in a choking hold.

"Father has ordered that the kingdom to keep a weary eye for… the boy," While the thunder god would never admit it, Loki knew that he cared for Tony almost like a son. They had grown on each other, even though they had so little in common. The trickster had caught the way his brother would constantly keep an eye on Tony when in front of Odin.

"But…?" His calm façade broke with a crack, one that he had hoped his brother hadn't heard.

Of course, he had. Loki once again found himself shoved in the massive cleft between the elder's pectorals. A meaty hand catches the back of the trickster's neck, dragging him into the warm body attached.

"Do not fret brother, we shall find this thief and bring them to justice. The child," Loki interrupted his brother, forcing distance between them. He glared into the azure seas of the thunder god's eyes, poised for an onslaught of vicious contempt.

"Tony, Thor. His name is Tony," turning his back on his unfortunate prey, Loki continued, "you may as well say it. He deserves to be treated like a living being and not a…"

Finishing was unnecessary, the point already budding into a flower of truth.

Tony was not dead.

He was not.

"Do we know who did the deed?" Tilting his head ever so slightly, the golden son peered into his gaze.

Thor spoke slowly, checking his worded tale in his mind before telling it. "Even the elders who saw the taking have not come forward with an image to work from. Father fears this tragedy may be futile, brother."

His knees felt weak, as though they were going to crumble beneath the weight of this confession. If Odin had said that, then he must have checked for Tony's location on Hlidskialf, or he would never give his favored son such a false hope to believe in. Truly, there was no way to locate the boy in all the nine?

Who had that much power?

Very few would have the sheer ability to hide from the watchful gaze of the All-Father. In order to absorb enough energy to vanish from even ever-sight was immense, more so than almost any sorcerer had the talent to gather. From the vast knowledge Loki had gathered over the years, he couldn't think of another magic user other than himself who would manage the deed. Well, other than…

Oh.

Oh Odin.

"Amora…" Loki rasped, raw emotion dawning on his face. Thor gazed deeply into his eyes, confusion evident in his pupils.

"Brother? What did you say-?"

"Amora." The shout ripped from his throat before he'd even realized he opened his mouth. Putrid animosity rose and began flaming the once lonely lump residing in his heart.

"No… No!" Rage laced deeply in the golden son's words, eyes flashing with a bloody vengeance, "that wretched wench! How dare she steal a royal prince? She has taken it too far this time, brother."

"Aye. But, my question is, why? And how do we find him now? If Amora truly is the culprit, then she will likely hide him away from us." Both fair questions, though the fact that he couldn't answer either of them didn't make Loki feel particularly enthusiastic.

A stumped expression muddled his face briefly, the thunder prince sticking out his lower lip in a concentrative pout. Again, the trickster found himself comparing his brother to a lost puppy…

PUPPY!

"That's it!" Loki exclaimed, swiftly turning and heading out of the marble gateway, passing the two armored guards and darting down the hall. There was no time to waste; he had to find that little mutt as soon as possible. If he finds the pup, then he finds the boy.

His son.

Amora had the full vengeance of the greatest sorcerer on her blood-coated hands. Odin have mercy on her soul.

Thor had no idea what to think anymore. First he had dealt with Frigga, who was completely broken hearted to hear what had fallen upon her grandson, now he must deal with Amora. For the first time in his long life, the great prince felt old. His shoulders ached from carrying his woes, heart weary from years past. Constrictive needles befell the nerves of his flesh, numbing his body in jaded wear. He would fear the appearance of wrinkles and gray hair, had it not been for his known age; a conversation topic his Father had a fondness for bringing up.

He was still an adolescent, no matter how hard he tried to prove himself worthy.

A boy, not yet a man.

Sighs rocked his torso, tensed shoulders readjusting the unused muscles in a symphonic pop. He sucked oxygen deeply into his nose, breathing the stress out of his overexerted body. Groans broke from behind his teeth, guttural sounds that rocked his core. Perspiration formed steadily on his thick brow, a normally easy to forget annoyance, now magnified. Heels clicked down the hall after his brother, worry pinching his expression.

When he had last seen him, Loki appeared horrifyingly deranged. His normally striking green eyes were dull and void of any feeling. He appeared completely blank. Vacant. Vacuous.

Hollow.

Sharp canines bit into the side of his cheek, iron blending with the other pungent tastes on his tongue.

This situation seems a little too sordid to Thor. What are the chances that the boy just so happened to be seized during the last few weeks? News of Asgard's involvement with Nidavellir had not been public knowledge. Some would call the thunder god arrogant, but Thor was no fool. It was obvious the amount of disdain and animosity members of the elders held for the young genius. It was a shock that the tiny engineer had not been rotted by the deprivation lack of caring.

Considering how much loathing the boy had to live through every day of his life, it was a wonder how he had lasted this long. With the constant all-consuming hatred bearing at him from both sides, the blonde wondered how the boy still smiled. How he still braved the world each and every day, knowing that those who couldn't understand would bring him down. Didn't know the swelling loneliness that must fill him when he see's the shark-like grins, feels the burning of a glare follow him everywhere.

They would never understand.

While he himself didn't know the specific pain his nephew endured, he could guess. His brother had gone through the same ordeal when they were children. People he considered friends forced him to choose between them and his brother, and although he occasionally chose Loki, Thor was ashamed to admit that he had left his brother sitting alone in the library more than once. He would ignore the faded cries echoing behind his back, leaving the weeping songbird to weep an ambience.

That was in the past, and Thor still regretted it everyday. It burdened his mind, and stuck in his chest. If he could go back and change his choices back then, he would in heartbeat. He had even asked his Father at one point, begging the All-Father to rewrite his mistake. Unfortunately, his almighty powers did not extend that far, and Thor was once again shrouded in his indecencies.

But not this time. No, this time, he would be there for his brother. He would do everything in his power to save the small boy who managed to fix everything the older god had broken.

Y'know, he was getting really tired of waking up like this.

Heavy eyelids broke the dragging need to sleep, opening with only his sheer will. Tiny-clouded grim reapers danced around him, preforming their black magic on the living. He wanted to scream, but couldn't find it in himself. His felt at though it was bleeding acid, bombarded spiked balls rolling up and down his neck. His tunnel vision began to fade again, and fear took over Tony's mind. He can't go to sleep now he isn't ready to die. He hasn't said his good-byes yet, given his farewells to those who would care if he were gone.

Grandma Frigga.

Grandpa Odin.

Uncle Thor.

Loki.

Loki.

Loki…

Out of all the things Eitri thought he would find today, this was perhaps the least likely.

His brothers had been digging out new tunnels in search of uru when they happened upon the strangest being. A mortal, in Asgardian attire. How peculiar...

The dwarven blacksmiths all huddled in a circle around the queer, unconscious little boy. He must truly have a gift to be seen as worthy among those who proclaim themselves gods. He could prove to be useful, after he woke up that is.

A/N: Ok, I am so depressed after writing this. Too much angst, not enough laughter. The finale chapter (of child Tony, I still have all the movies to write guys) should be up in the next few days, and I promise that it will be lighter hearted.

Also, I find this video on YouTube that inspired some of my more depressive figurative language. Check it out, and spread it around!

(Like the flu! Only with less mucus)

Link: watch?v=ltun92DfnPY