Finals week! So I will be busy for a good chunk of the next two weeks and I'll try to write. I've gone through many drafts trying to find a good way to continue this story that has taken me for a ride :). Thanks for the reviews! I never realized how much they inspire to write more and more. So thanks! -'Tastic

A/N: Edited.

He assumes it's been five months, but he could never tell anymore, not after his fever disappeared. All the times began to blend. A routine that he had grown accustomed to by now seemed to be his only way of telling time. That didn't mean things didn't change. He knew his son could hear him now if remembered correctly from all the baby books he read one day when he was bored and fascinated by the process at the time. This just made him continue to talk even more. This time around he had no fear to share about his life and his many mistakes. Things no one else knew.

He was disheartened though by the fact he could no longer curl up on his side. His rounded belly made it uncomfortable even if it wasn't so big it prevented him from hugging his knees. He instead paced when he could for a minute or two. Not wasting too much energy but enough to keep his muscles from getting too weak from his forced occupation of lying down constantly and sitting. He needed to be able to run or walk just in case. Even just to put up a fight.

It became even harder when one night he began to loudly cry over the fact that he was alone in this. Abandoned and unwanted. Shamed and imprisoned.

By this point he began to notice how his meal size never changed from the beginning yet his belly grew. Then when he noticed silently how his areas where he had developed fat (he blamed take-out) had started to shrink. He knew then his body was sacrificing itself to keep the pregnancy going. His shrinking stature made his belly seem huge at this point.

"Mother, I am sorry."

He looked up and saw a sight that made more tears leak out. Loki was there. Four years old by the looks of it, with his big watered green eyes and long hair coupled together with a simple green t shirt and black shorts. He knew this couldn't be real but he would give anything for it to be. His wish for some company came true in that moment, even if it was a delusion.

"My son." Any hesitation he had in accepting his son was forgotten.

And so the child wept as a result. Not loud like other children would have but silent as if that action was out of habit and it broke Tony's heart. He closed his eyes and took a moment to dry his tears before opening his arms and beckoned the little toddler closer. Loki ran the very tiny distance and clung to Tony's neck as Tony comforted him. The little guy molded around his bony and awkward body. The smell of forest and rain hit his nose sparking a familiarity of Thor and his unique smell. He had almost forgotten the old smell he had gotten used to.

The smell of a traitor.

"Mother, mother." Was all that could be heard in between hiccups. The young child curled itself under the man's chin and nuzzled.

Tony sighed as he understood there was nothing he could do to become 'father' by that point and he figured he might as well get used to it now. That and freaking out he could feel and touch the very being that was growing in him inside and out. He compared this to freaking out about space as relatively the same level but manage to keep his lungs from lack oxygen and presumably scaring this apparition of his son. Just another curveball in the life of Tony Edward Stark.

"How?" He stumbled some time later when the child Loki was curled into his chest further. The little guy rounded his body around his surprisingly growing stomach with his head over the arch reactor.

"Magic." The child giggled as if it was obvious before sniffing away the remains of his tears where Tony soon took his dirty clothing wiped the residue off his son. More dirt wouldn't kill him at this point, but that did not mean he could nurture.

"Yours?" He sighed as he threaded his fingers around the small version if his former incarnation's battle armor. Even Thor had a 'lounging' version. Did his son not feel comfortable around him?

"Both of ours. Yours is getting so weak."

"Are you comfy?" Tony ignored the statement and rubbed the young man's back and pet the shoulder length hair.

"I don't want to be anywhere else, mother."

"Hmmm, you won't be saying that when you're thirteen, brat. So no Papa for me?" A fake pout coated the lips of the humorous man. He even stuck out his lower lip to try to receive a smile.

"Uh-huh" A quick peek and a strongly shaken head was the reply.

Tony simply rolled his eyes but smiled when he went to shift the tiny child. The young Loki refused to be separated from the arc that laid under the child's cheek. The inventor sighed and patted the hair underneath his fingers once again before running his hand through it. Trying to gently loosen non existent knots. He knew that he must either be sick or hallucinating but he didn't care. He would rather have this time with a fragment of his imagination or form of physical magic than none at all. A fake dream in the midst of disaster.

"So what do you think about Lucien Anthony Stark?"

"Hmm, I like it."

Weeks or so past by. He and Loki (or Lucy as Tony jokingly told him one day) spoke more and more. He wasn't weirded out anymore but grew ever more grateful to have this time to spend with his son that may or not make it more than a minute outside the sanctuary of his magical womb.

He took to praying in desperation during times of being reminded of their situation and telling his son of the various religions on Earth. He shared about the various cultures as he had been in contact with manly due to his company's nature. Some that he had extensive experience with due to interacting with civilians. Loki seemed to be retaining it and even asking more on it as time passed. Proud of his son, he plead with any deity before falling asleep in tears for the simple opportunity to hold his son or even to be taken to Hela with his child. He began to wonder how damaged his father must have been to not be able to feel as strongly as he did for 'flesh and blood'. He thought of Peter from home as well.

Yet, he began to debate whether or not to distance himself from the child so it wouldn't hurt so much. He couldn't even get up at this point without help or a few more minutes than usual to even out his worsened balance that plagued him. A problem that also was no longer in his hands to control. It was too late to do anything and all he had was a key to his ankle handcuff and a scrap of metal as well as the bear clothing on his back. Stupid snack barely made it above his hips where the boxers ended. At least if Odin got close enough to him anytime soon he could take out his other eye, maybe reach the asshole's brain with it or give him some flesh eating infection from Earth or well, a guy can dream.

This morning he spent braiding his son's hair as Loki swung his legs off the cot like one his age. He was humming the lullaby Tony sang to him every morning and the same one his mother had. Tony rubbed his belly as his son kicked inside. The first movement he had felt today, or what he assumed today to be.

His stomach was a marvel of roundedness. His belly button no longer being an 'inny' as Loki once told him. He had sore hips and a very complaining back, yet he walked none the less. He had to give it his all to save his son.

He had run out of things to talk about and gradually introduced long novels he had read and recount them by memory. The Hobbit series, Harry Potter, Sherlock Holmes, sci-fi novels, some TV shows here and there. At one time he even explained chemistry by writing on the walls after he explained math on the floor of course.

"I love you, mother."

The child chirped before he ran around the room imitating his suit, or so he said he was. Tony thought it was more of a plane but remained quiet. He leaned back as his back protested and grinned indulgently as the magical child climbed into his side after growing bored and rubbed his comforting smell all over his stomach. His lap covered partially by the belly. His son tilted his head back and smiled from his contorted form that lay all over him. He ignored his pains to raise a hand and lick his finger to rub a smudge off the little demon's cheek.

"Help is coming, mother."

A faint smile covered the wry pregnant man's face. He refused to have hope where there was none. He knew that no matter the situation he would always have to help himself. He had given up on that dream about three or so months ago. Instead he rubbed his son's back as the apparition of the toddler faded. His son must be going to sleep he figured. He would take this moment to rest as well. He laid his hand down and smiled faintly as he felt his little leech move around before settling.

He surfaced from his dreams of dummy and fire extinguishers to a hard thundering boom and unfashionably bright light that flooded the room. Tony reached for his piece of metal hidden near his bed under the sheets. He knew it was not time for a bath so there was no reason to open that metal door that stood between him and Odin. He huddled in close to his stomach and quickly took of the ankle brace with practiced ease and crouched defensively on the bed. Though, it was bit off as he had to put on knee down almost immediately to keep his balance as well as stop himself from straining too much in the areas that held no fat and the muscle strained to recover being so close to the surface with no cushion.

Metal and forest. It reached into his nose immediately.

This smell. . . Then he saw it. A red cape and Mjölnir held tightly in one hand.

Thor.

He had come. Help had come. . . or was he here to finish his father's job?