AN: For Greenloki (who is also the best beta I could have! Thank you, everyone who read and reviewed the first chapter. I do hope this second chapter will be enjoyed as well.

The Lover That Went Wrong

- Chapter Two -

"Careful, careful," Tony couldn't help but repeat. He watched – with a strange tightness in his chest – as Thor lifted an unconscious Loki from the couch, cradling him in his arms. He looked too small and fragile as Thor held him, and Tony didn't know what to think of it. For so long, Loki had been their enemy, large and imposing and terrifying, but then … Well, everything had changed and Tony had – for the lack of a better word – grown to like the god of mischief.

And now he was staring at the raven haired god, feeling peculiarly concerned, insecure – anxious.

Thor brought his brother to Tony's bedroom on the first floor, carrying him as if he weighed nothing, and gently placed him down on the silk sheets of Tony's bed. For a moment, Tony expected to see a radiant pair of emerald green eyes, mischief tingling in them, revealing that it had all been one elaborate joke, but Loki remained still, too still, his skin having an unhealthy pale color and dark circles deepening his eyes, making him look deathly ill. Perhaps he was. Tony refused to entertain the idea.

Walking to the other side of the bed, Tony slowly sat down on the edge of it, his brown eyes somehow unable to leave Loki's delicate features. He had never seen him like that before and truly he didn't know how to handle the situation. Should he be this concerned, this shaken? Perhaps not, but he couldn't help how he felt.

Attentively, gingerly, he brushed aside a lock of Loki's raven hair, revealing more of his ghostly pale complexion, and Tony let go of a deep breath he hadn't known to be holding. There lay a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach, dragging him down, making it damn hard for him to breathe.

"I should take him back to Asgard."

"No." Tony's brown eyes shot up to meet Thor's worried blue ones. The mere idea of Loki returning to his home realm didn't sit well with him and for some reason he just didn't want to be parted from the god of mischief, not now, not while he was ... Was he being sentimental? Foolish? Perhaps he was both. "Loki would never forgive you if you took him back."

"Look at him, Stark," Thor argued with a soft but commanding voice. He placed a hand to the side his brother's face, his thumb caressing his cheek almost absentmindedly. If Loki had been conscious, Thor would lose that hand. "He is ill, Stark. He is burning up and he needs help."

"I can help him." The words had left him before he realized what exactly he had said, and he knew more than anyone that it was a lie. What could he do about a dying god? Was Loki in fact dying? And what about … It was difficult to think about it and a part of Tony didn't want it to be real. How could it be real?

"I heard him," Thor said, sighing, his gaze returning to his brother, "He travelled the Nine Realms looking for answers, but he didn't find any to this, but he hasn't visited Asgard, he would never."

"Exactly," Tony replied instantly. Only then did he realize that his hand had slipped around Loki's, their fingers intertwining and honestly, he had no idea what the hell he was doing. He didn't want to think about it too much either. "He doesn't want to return to Asgard, he's not … ready, so don't take him there. He would never forgive you."

He would never forgive me.

Was he begging? Was he actually begging on behalf of a crazy, mostly power-hungry god? Then again, Loki had changed lately. Power didn't seem to interest him as much anymore. He was content with hanging out here, at his mansion, mostly annoying the rest of the Avengers while Tony secretly adored his company. Or maybe it wasn't that big of a secret.

After a long silence where Thor was clearly contemplating his options – there was a heavy frown adorning his features – the god of thunder finally cleared his throat and said, "I will go to Asgard alone. Father might hold more answers."

"Thank you," Tony said, hearing softness to his voice that wasn't often there.

"Look after him," Thor said.

Tony nodded. "I will."

-/-

The sheets were incredibly soft – too soft – which led Loki to the easy conclusion that he was lying in Stark's bed. The gods knew he'd woken there enough times, but somehow it felt different. He felt different. And then his memory rewound and reality crashed into him, reminding him of everything that was fucked up.

Moving a hand to his stomach, Loki found that it felt different, too. There was a slight bulge to it, which was strange and hard to grasp, and frankly, Loki didn't want to think too much about it. There shouldn't be a bulge, because he shouldn't be … Was he really?

Yes, yes he was. It hadn't been a dream.

With uncontrolled movements – because his head felt just about ready to explode and every inch of his body ached – he sat up, forcing away the sudden nausea that claimed him, and it wasn't morning-sickness, no, Loki refused to accept that. His head spun around and dark spots floated before his eyes, and he was just about to throw himself down again when he heard a soft voice.

"Easy there."

Oh, how he wanted to make that voice shut up – to make the man behind the voice shut up. He turned his head to the side to find Tony Stark beside the bed, one ankle crossed over one knee, leaning almost casually into the soft cushions of the armchair he was sitting in. His large brown eyes were focused on him and Loki felt the strange need to disappear, and for a moment, he almost did, but then he felt a sharp pain to his stomach and he stopped.

"Loki?"

"Oh, do shut up," Loki snapped. He threw the blankets aside and tossed his legs over the edge of the bed, fully intending to walk right out of here, but as soon as he wanted to stand, he felt his head swim in darkness and he fell back down, landing onto his back and staring up at the ceiling.

Great. Just great.

Stark's face invaded his personal space a second later, panic and concern lacing those deep, dark eyes, and Loki nearly reached up, wanting to slap Tony away, but he felt too tired to move really. So he continued to lie there, staring up at the Man of Iron, glaring at him because wasn't it his fault that they were in this mess right now? Yet Loki wasn't naïve. It took two to dance.

He shouldn't have danced with Tony.

"Can I get you anything?"

"Thor's head on a plate," Loki muttered, "Your head on a plate. The destruction of the Avengers. World domination. There are many things you could get me." He bit down on his lower lip then, refusing to accept any real help, but who was he kidding? Didn't he faint only hours ago in Tony's living room? The fact that he now lay in his bed was proof that he'd lost his dignity a long time ago, which led him to the next very important question.

"How did I get here?" He asked.

"Uhm …" Tony disappeared from Loki's vision, stepping back.

"Oh, that's just terrific," Loki sighed sharply. He rolled onto his side and gazed at Tony who retook his seat in the armchair, looking very awkward and doing anything in his power to avoid meeting Loki's gaze. Hilarious, really. "It was Thor, wasn't it?"

Tony nodded, his eyes focused on his hands lying helplessly in his lap. Ha, the great Man of Iron seemed almost painfully embarrassed at the moment, which was something Loki had thought to never witness, but with everything that was going on, the mess they were in, Loki felt in no mood to mock the superhero for it. He filed it away for later.

"Where is he?" He found himself asking instead.

"He's gone to Asgard," Tony answered, his eyes flickering upward to meet Loki's shocked emerald green ones, "It's not what you think," he quickly added, "I mean, you're still here, aren't you?"

"And why is that?" Loki asked, honest curiosity in his voice. Thor had been waiting for the right opportunity to take him back to Asgard for months, and now he'd been given the chance on a golden plate and he hadn't taken it? It made no sense and truly, it was giving him another headache.

"I didn't want him to take you," Tony answered truthfully, unashamed, his awkwardness having disappeared. He gazed at Loki with the most peculiar look in his eyes, one that Loki couldn't recognize, or perhaps he could, but he was too stubborn to do so. "Thor went to Asgard to find more answers, to find a way to understand what's happening."

"I already told you what's happening."

"No, you really didn't." Tony stood from the armchair and went to sit on the edge of the bed. For a moment, Loki wanted to shove him right off, not liking the idea of Stark sitting so close to him, but he still lacked the energy. "You're pregnant, but that doesn't explain why you're …" He waved his hand in Loki's general direction.

"… a mess?" Loki finished that sentence for Tony. He pressed himself upward until he could rest against the headboard of the bed. He hated to admit that he hadn't been this comfortable in weeks, though there was that continuous ache to his stomach, a soreness to his muscles, reminding him again and again that there was an actually child growing inside of him.

"I'm pretty sure none of the other … Frost Giants go through what you're going through right now when they're expecting," Tony said and it was so plainly obvious that he was trying to choose his words oh so carefully, but that didn't change the fact that Loki wanted to cut his tongue out for saying it anyway.

"I've told you," He replied sharply, unable to hide the hurt and disgust in his voice, "I'm a monster. I shouldn't have children."

"Don't you already–?" Tony stopped himself and he should praise the gods he did, because Loki knew what he'd wanted to say and if he had indeed said it … Well, Thor wasn't around to protect Tony, was he? And the other Avengers sure as hell wouldn't have been able to save him.

There was a short silence.

"You're not a monster," Tony said eventually, his voice too soft to Loki's liking.

"Don't talk to me as if I'm suddenly nothing more than a knocked-up princess," He scowled. Just to add strength to his words – and because more often than one would think, he was an idiot – he twisted his wrist, summoning a bit of magic and shoving Tony right onto the floor with an invisible force.

He would have laughed when hearing Tony's surprised and shocked yelp, but an explosion of discomfort and pain followed right after he had used magic, and Loki squeezed his eyes shut, inhaling sharply. He held his breath, unable to cope with all the dizzying sensations claiming his body, and he knew that he should keep breathing, but whatever. He was too confused and messed up to deal with the situation properly.

When he felt a sudden warm, comforting hand take hold of his, however, he held onto it, tightly, and Tony was smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

"I forgot," Loki said with a soft chuckle after what must have been five minutes of silence. He focused on the feeling of Tony's thumb rubbing soothing circles into the palm of his hand. "It doesn't like magic."

Tony's ministrations fell still, which shouldn't be peculiar, but it was and Loki found himself glancing up to meet Tony's eyes. "What's wrong?" He asked.

Tony shook his head. "Nothing."

"Tell me," Loki pressed on. He pulled his hand from Tony's only to bring it up to the side of Tony's face, his fingertips gingerly brushing the soft skin there. "Don't make me knock you off of the bed again." He'd wanted to sound light and carefree, but who was he kidding? He looked like hell and he felt like it, too.

"It's not a monster growing inside of you," Tony explained, his gaze falling to Loki's stomach – something that had Loki bursting with fury last time, but now … now Tony had such a soft expression in his eyes that Loki couldn't quite fathom. "It's our child, our baby."

He swallowed heavily, unsure what to do with Tony's words. "What are you saying?"

"I never thought I would be a father one day," Tony confessed, his words causing Loki's hand on his face to fall motionless. Green eyes narrowed, unsure that this was a conversation he wanted to have. "I certainly didn't think I would become a parent with you, but this is happening and I'm willing to face it. I just don't think that you are."

"It's killing me, Tony," Loki said through gritted teeth, his green gaze suddenly growing cold and distant, because Tony wasn't helping. Not at all. His hand dropped to his lap, balled into a tight fist, and his heart raced within his chest. Anger and helplessness surged through his veins, because look at him! He was bedridden, unable to use magic. He was weak and what for? "I've never been more vulnerable, more frail!"

"And that's a bad thing?" Tony asked and Loki admired how calm he sounded. It did nothing to temper his anger, however, and Loki felt moments away from strangling the Man of Iron with his bare hands. He didn't need magic to kill him.

"Yes!"

"I can protect you."

Oh no, he didn't. Loki physically recoiled and Tony was smart enough to stand and step away from the bed, his brown eyes wide with realization of what he'd said, but it was too late. He'd said the words and he could not take them back. Tony swallowed heavily, sorrow and regret filling his eyes.

"Loki, I am sor–"

"Get out."

A heavy silence filled the room, green eyes furiously piercing sorrowful brown ones. Tony didn't move and for a moment, Loki considered using magic anyway, fully prepared to face the dire consequences, but somehow he couldn't. He didn't have a grip on himself anyway. He was breathing hard, his fingers itching to break Tony's bones – Tony who stood so very still.

"I said get out!" He screamed, feeling sick to his stomach. When Tony still didn't move, he angrily lifted a hand and shot fire at the mortal man, forcing him to jump aside. Pain instantly consumed his body, but he was too focused on his fury to give into it. "Get out!"

Tony fled from the room, and Loki collapsed a second later, curling into himself and willing the pain away, but it was pointless.

-/-

When Thor arrived in the hallway on the first floor of Stark's mansion, he had not expected Tony to be sitting just outside of his bedroom, a large mug of coffee placed beside him and one of his square, oversized Stark-phones balancing on his knees. His head was leaning back against the wall, however, his eyes closed and for a moment Thor thought the mortal to be sleeping, but his heavy footsteps had alerted Tony of his arrival, a pair of tired brown eyes opening and focusing on him.

"Stark," Thor greeted him, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. It was well after midnight and he hadn't expected Tony to be sitting there, though he didn't know what he had expected. Had he thought Tony would sit with Loki, sit at his bedside? Unlikely.

Languidly, Tony pushed himself onto his feet, the Stark-phone nearly falling to the floor, but Tony had exceptionally good reflexes for looking so exhausted and caught the phone before it could crash to the ground.

"Hi," Tony said, shoving the phone into the pocket of his jeans. He rubbed a hand over his face, then, trying to rub away his weariness. "I hadn't expected you back so soon."

Thor smiled faintly, though it didn't really reached his eyes. "How is he?"

"Ah, yes, Loki, your brother," Tony said, rambling. Picking up his mug of coffee, he took a large gulp, his face screwing together for a moment. Thor doubted it was pure coffee the mortal was drinking, but he couldn't blame him. Thor felt like he could use something strong, too. "I wouldn't walk in there if you don't actually need to."

Thor raised one eyebrow, but said nothing.

"You know, for being a Frost Giant," Tony explained, "He sure does love fire."

"I see." Thor turned towards the door of the bedroom and inhaled sharply, knowing that he had no choice but to face his younger brother, to face his anger and animosity. He would be lying if he said he wasn't afraid, or at least nervous, because he remembered the last time he'd seen Loki – frenzied, ill, dangerous. Loki was unpredictable and treacherous.

"Did you …" Tony suddenly began as Thor lifted a hand to knock on the door. He didn't finish his sentence, however, when a pair of bright blue eyes focused on him. Instead he swallowed and rubbed hand to the back of his neck. "Did you find answers? Do you know what's going on?"

"I do," Thor replied truthfully, "But I should talk to Loki first."

"Yeah, yeah, of course," Tony sighed, hesitating somewhat, his hand dropping away from his neck, "I'll be right here I suppose."

Thor inclined his head, then knocked on the wooden door in front of him, twice, but without waiting for a reply – chances were slim Loki would willingly let someone enter anyway – he walked into the dimly lit bedroom, carefully closing the door behind him. His gaze instantly locked onto the form of his brother, finding him sitting in the armchair tucked away in the corner of the room. His legs were pulled up to his chest, long arms wrapped tightly around his knees.

When they had been children, Thor had often found Loki sitting like that in his chamber in the Asgardian palace, though most of the time he had been reading a book, but that wasn't the case now. For so long now, Thor had looked at Loki, seeing nothing but the god of mischief wanting to destroy all that he held dear, but now … now Thor saw his little brother again, scared and sick, with dark circles around his eyes and ghostly white skin.

Knowing that his question was pointless and unneeded, he posed it anyway, his voice soft and gentle. It had been years since he'd spoken to Loki in this way and it was strange to think it made him feel slightly uncomfortable.

"How are you feeling?"

The reply was a raise of eyebrows and emerald green eyes staring intently at him. Loki shifted in his seat, his arms moving to cross before his chest and his feet finding solid ground.

"Swell," Loki said sharply, not a hint of amusement in his voice.

In all the years that he had known Loki – having grown up together, played together, fought together – never had he seen him like this. He couldn't wrap his head around it, couldn't fathom it, nor understand it. Now more than ever, Loki appeared impenetrable, high walls having been resurrected around him and for the first time Thor understood there might only be one person on this earth that could break through those barriers – and that person was waiting outside, fearful, concerned, which was another thing he didn't understand, but now wasn't the time to let his thoughts wander to that subject.

Clearing his throat, he stepped further into the room, only coming to a halt as he reached the end of Tony's king-sized bed. Loki continued to stare at him, calculated, eyes narrowed as if he was prepared to disappear from the room in the blink of an eye – he probably was. Thor knew he had to be careful with his words and deeds.

"I have spoken to our father–"

"Your father," Loki corrected as always, emerald green eyes instantly darkening, but Thor would never stop calling Odin their father, no matter how long and hard Loki denied it. Before he could speak more, Loki's pale lips curved upward, forming a razor-sharp smile that held no warmth at all. "Did he laugh when he heard of my predicament?"

"Of course not," Thor replied without missing a beat. He sat down on the edge of the bed, knowing that a long, difficult and tiresome conversation lay ahead – a conversation he would have never thought to have in the first place. There truly was no right way to tell Loki the truth. "Father did have answers. He knows what is … wrong."

"There is a child growing inside of me, Thor," Loki said petulantly and Thor was glad for the space in between them. He could feel the hostility radiating from his brother and he knew there was an actual palpable chance he could get hurt, though it was a chance he was willing to take. "That is what's wrong."

There was no easy way to deliver the news, to explain to Loki what Odin had told him, and there certainly wasn't a possibility that Thor could predict Loki's reaction. His heart was hammering within his chest and tension kept his muscles captive, but Thor couldn't turn back now.

"If you continue like this," He said regretfully, "Your child will die."

Whatever reaction he had expected, it didn't come. Loki just stared at him, his gaze unreadable, and his composure unchanging. Thor waited for a moment, allowing the silence to settle between them, hoping that Loki would say something eventually, but that didn't happen. Loki's gaze simply fell away from him, focusing on the floor instead and Thor had no idea what on earth that was supposed to mean.

"Loki?" He asked carefully when the silence continued.

"What are you saying?" Loki asked, his voice surprisingly soft.

Thor swallowed heavily and forced himself to keep talking, to tell his brother the truth. "You are Jotun," He said, unable to ignore how Loki cringed at the sound of his words, "You have always been capable of carrying children, but …" There truly were no words for this. "When you were found by our father–"

"–your father–"

"–he put a spell on you," Thor continued as if Loki had said nothing at all, "He performed a charm to make you look Asgardian, to make you feel like you fitted right in, like you belonged in our family – and you do," He ignored the snort that came from Loki, "But for as long as that spell is kept intact, your child cannot grow inside of you, because your body cannot adjust. Every time you use magic, it harms you, because it's your body attempting to use that power to change, but you are not allowing it."

Slowly, Loki lifted his gaze to meet Thor's. He was breathing heavily, nostrils flared and hands balled into fists beside his body. "You don't know what you are asking of me," Loki said and while Thor wanted to believe that Loki's voice sounded calm and controlled, there was no denying that rage laced his words.

"I do know," He said, "And I'm sorry."

Silence.

Then – a low, but loud laugh came from Loki's lips, but his smile never reached his distant, cold and bitter eyes. Now more than ever, Loki was dangerous and unpredictable, and Thor fought the urge to back away, to leave this bedroom, but he refused to abandon his brother. He knew Loki needed him no matter how hard he would deny it.

"You do not know what you are asking of me, Thor," Loki repeated, shaking his head. He stood from the armchair and began to pace the floor, eyes focusing on his feet. When he reached up to run a hand through his hair, Thor spotted the tremble to his limbs, but he said nothing about it. He said nothing at all. "You are asking me to turn into a monster," Loki continued and with every word he spoke, he grew more angry, "You are asking me to become an abomination, and for what? A child growing inside of me?"

A feral growl came from Loki's lips. "Am I supposed to love it?" He asked suddenly, spinning around to look at his brother, "How can anyone expect me to love a child when I'm nothing more than a villain, a power-hungry god that would stab you in the back if it meant I could have the throne of Asgard!"

Thor still said nothing which evidently annoyed and angered Loki at the same time. He turned his back on Thor, growling. He stood still now, his hands balled into fists, knuckles having turning white, and Thor wasn't sure whether Loki was still breathing or not.

"I am sorry, brother," He said, though his words did nothing to change Loki's behavior or composure. Before he could say anything else – though he didn't know what he could say – Loki turned to face him again, emerald green eyes wide and frantic and feral.

Thor was momentarily taken aback.

"Leave," Loki hissed.

Slowly, Thor stood, gazes locked with Loki. "This is your decision, Loki, but–"

"Of course it's my decision!" Loki snapped.

Thor nodded, though he couldn't help himself, couldn't prevent himself from saying, "Please talk to Tony." Much to his surprise, some of Loki's tension slipped away from him, his emerald green eyes softening, fists disappearing.

Without saying another word, Thor turned around and walked away, knowing that Loki would need a moment to himself.

-/-

He was sitting on the edge of the bed when the door to the bedroom opened again, but Loki didn't need to look up to know it was Tony who was approaching. He could recognize those footsteps anywhere, could recognize the sound of his breathing, the rustling of his clothes, and Loki didn't want to spend too much time wondering when exactly all that had happened. When had he come to know Tony so well? How could he have ever allowed it?

Tony came to sit beside him on the bed and Loki let him, though he didn't raise his gaze to meet the mortal's. He didn't know what he would find in those dark brown eyes, but he was sure he wouldn't like it. He didn't want his pity, his sympathy, or his concern. He certainly didn't want his tenderness and affection. He had no need of it.

Or did he?

Shaking those thoughts away, Loki found that his breathing had quickened, Tony's company having that strange effect on him. Loki desperately tried to regain control over himself, but no matter what he tried, he still felt his heart racing within his chest, as if trying to claw its way out, leaving nothing but a black hole. Loki would actually prefer that. Wouldn't it be easier to feel nothing at all?

The silence continued for a while, but Loki had no issue with it. No, he welcomed it, because he knew that as soon as Tony would open his mouth and break the silence, all might be ruined. He was an idiot after all.

"Is there anything I can do?" Tony asked, sounding soft and gentle and kind, and Loki wanted to be furious with him for saying those words, for saying them like that, for saying anything at all really,but he lacked the energy and will. He just wanted to sit there, Tony beside him, another fact that surprised him. Since when did he enjoy Tony's company in times as difficult and ridiculous as these?

"There is nothing," Loki sighed tiredly.

A hand suddenly covered his, making Loki's sharp gaze snap to his hands lying in his lap when he felt Tony's touch upon them. Fingers curled around his and Loki should shake them off, should burn Tony for the act, but then he remembered it would be unwise to use magic, not unless he enjoyed agony ripping through his body – which he didn't.

"I can't make a decision now, not yet," Loki heard himself say, hating the way his voice quavered near the end. What had become of him? When Tony's grip on his hands tightened, Loki found that he merely held onto the touch which felt like an anchor keeping him place, keeping him from losing his mind.

"Then try tomorrow," Tony said.

Loki nodded absentmindedly.

"Let's just try and catch some sleep," Tony offered, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into the palm of Loki's hand – Loki who kept telling himself to pull away, to curse Tony for showing such compassion, but did nothing in the end. He let out a breath he hadn't known to be holding.

He would welcome sleep, welcome the oblivion and darkness it brought with it.

-/-

But sleep never came.

As Loki lay in Stark's bed, the mortal man curled up beside him, snoring softly as if nothing had happened at all – a thought that made Loki want to strangle the man in his sleep – he found that the tightness to his chest just wouldn't go away. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get his mind to settle, his thoughts to silence.

Thor's words echoed through his mind, over and over again as if accusing him. Your child cannot grow inside of you, because your body cannot adjust.

Perhaps it shouldn't be given the chance to grow, Loki thought bitterly. Would it not be a monster like he was? Would it have his black heart? His rage? He tried to imagine a child in his arms, perhaps one with Stark's dark eyes, but the image merely frightened him, causing his heart to skip a beat, his breath to falter within his lungs.

Loki could handle war and battle and death. He reveled at chaos and enjoyed the sound of screams around him, especially those of his enemies, but this … this he could not handle.

Carefully, as not to wake Stark, he slipped from underneath the covers, the cold floor beneath his bare feet driving away all faint traces of exhaustion. When he stood, however, he suddenly heard the rustling of sheets behind him, causing him to halt.

Stark's sleepy, concerned voice made him close his eyes, knowing that the mortal would soon hate him. It pained him to think Tony would curse his very existence.

"Loki, is everything alright?"

Slowly, he turned toward Stark, taking in his disheveled appearance, his worried gaze. Loki could hardly breathe. There was much he wanted to tell the mortal. There was much he wanted to ask of him, too, forgiveness being one thing.

"I am sorry, Tony."

"Loki, what are you–"

And then he was gone, vanished into thin air, only to reappear on the other side of the country, completely alone, agony ripping through his body, causing him to fall to his knees. He wrapped one arm around his stomach, praying to whatever god still listened to him to take away the pain, the hurt.

"I'm truly sorry."

TBC ...