AN: Thank you so much for reading and reviewing the previous chapter! You guys have a lot of questions, but you'll just have to keep reading to get some answers! I hope you enjoy this seventh chapter!

The Lover That Went Wrong

- Chapter Seven -

The mask fell to the ground with a sharp, resounding sound, but Tony made no effort to pick it up. On the contrary, he continued to storm through the living room of his mansion, heading for the basement, more components of his suit falling away from his body until he was dressed in nothing but dark blue jeans and a black shirt.

Steve bent down to pick up the metal mask, his gaze revealing only concern and sympathy, a soft sigh escaping from him.

Thor could not blame the Captain for looking at Tony with such pitiful eyes, but he was well aware that should Tony catch that look, he would burst in a fit of violence, destroying everything he crossed paths with. Generally, Tony was a good-hearted man, always smiling, always cracking jokes, but there was no telling what Loki's … departure had done to him, how much it had hurt him and the truth was that Thor had a feeling it would be a while before he would hear Tony laugh again. Life was playing cruel tricks on them after all.

The Captain stepped forward, planning to approach Tony who was in the process of violently kicking off his shoes, but Thor swiftly placed his hand on the Captain's shoulder and squeezed it gently, preventing him from walking any further. He didn't think it was a good idea to exchange words with the Man of Iron right now.

Steve halted, his hesitant, doubtful gaze momentarily locking with Thor's, but his attention quickly returned to Tony, clearly unwilling to just let the matter slide, to ignore what had happened no matter how much he wanted to. "Where are you going?" He asked, his voice laced with worry and Thor feared for Tony's reaction.

The question had been a redundant question, really. Thor did not know Tony as well as the Captain did – or so he thought since he did not spend as much time with him – but even he knew exactly where Tony was heading, what he was going to do, what he would do for the next few days. Last time Loki had left, Tony hadn't left his work-place located in the basement for days in a row, constantly working, and it seemed he was heading down that same path again, but Thor could not blame him.

"I'm going to finish my goddamn god-stunner," Tony snapped without looking back at them, his voice icy and full of anger. He threw open a door, stepped through it, and slammed it shut behind him, leaving Thor and Steve behind, clearly wanting to be left alone.

For the longest moment, nothing happened.

Thor stared at the door through which his friend had disappeared and sighed, a faint voice in the back of his head telling him he should go and talk to him, but he doubted Tony was interested in listening at the moment. The Man of Iron was angry, furious even, and most of all, he was heartbroken.

"Now what?" Steve asked, finally breaking the silence. "We're supposed to let him wallow in his basement again?"

Closing his eyes for a moment, Thor inhaled deeply to calm himself, to find a way to keep his own demons at bay, before facing Steve. He managed to smile ever so faintly, though why he didn't know and he knew for a fact that it did not reach his eyes. "Give him time," He said softly.

Something changed within Steve in that moment and Thor wasn't sure whether he liked it or not. Steve's blue gaze softened and his lips became two thin lines, and only then did Thor realize that Steve turned his pity toward him – his pity and his sympathies and his … Something else lay hidden within those eyes, something Thor could not put his finger on.

"I'm sorry, Thor," Steve said, genuine regret in his features. "I forgot that not only did Tony lose ... you know, but you also lost your brother."

Casting down his eyes, because for some reason he couldn't bear to look at Steve in that moment, Thor chuckled humorlessly. Truly, he did not know how to handle the situation himself. He had not been prepared for this – could never be prepared for this. "You would think I'd be used to it by now," He said, shrugging. "Loki has betrayed me plenty of times in the past, he has left before, but it never ceases to hurt." Before Steve could reply, Thor looked up into his eyes and inclined his head. "We should rest," He said, ending this conversation. "The battle with Amora has tired us all."

Steve seemed hesitant at first, words so obviously lying on the tip of his tongue, but he could not actually say them and Thor felt relieved for that. "Yeah," The Captain eventually said. "Rest seems like a good idea."

-/-

"Oh, I've heard," The man smiled, his dark brown eyes continuously switching between Amora and Loki. He seemed very relaxed to be facing two of the most powerful and dangerous sorcerers in the universe, a fact which Loki did not like at all. The man should be afraid, terrified even, but instead he was just sitting there, ankles crossed, knees apart, hands casually resting on the arms of the chair as if he hadn't a care in the world, as if his life wasn't in danger – but it was, because the more he spoke, the more Loki wanted to rip out his heart and crush it with his bare hands. "Word gets around quickly of how you have been wrecking your way through the mortal world," He added as his gaze lingered on Amora.

"The Earth will bend to my whim," Amora replied sharply, causing Loki to stare at her for a moment, to take in the growing frustration that claimed her. She was as irritated as he felt, which was entirely understandable, and Loki was rather impressed that she managed to stay as calm as she did, making him wonder if she had matured in a way. "They will fall to their knees and–"

"–and you need an army," Malakai – Mal – grinned. He steeped his fingers together as a new kind of glint brightened up his dark eyes – eyes that Loki wanted to rip from their sockets and perhaps he would if that meant he would finally understand who exactly he was dealing with. "You are in need of my mercenaries, but what could you possibly have to offer that would make me hand over my men?"

"You have interests in Midgard," Amora said, and while it was hard to detect the hint of desperation, Loki heard it. She was trying to find a common ground to negotiate on, but she was failing and that angered her. Loki could tell by the way her shoulders tensed and the lines of her face became sharper. Walking toward the window which let in the strange sunlight that cast this entire alien world in shades of red, Amora smiled with her lips tightly together. She glanced over her shoulder at Mal, and for a moment Loki thought she would try and flirt with him. "I'm sure you are bored of this little, insignificant world to which you've been banned to, whatever its name is."

"I quite like it here actually," Mal said, shrugging.

"Then you have become boring."

"Enough," Loki snapped, uncaring of how two pair of eyes fell on him, surprise filling them as this was the first time he'd spoken since arriving here only an hour ago, the first time he bothered to make his presence known. They were taking in his appearance, trying to figure him out, and Loki knew they would only find his exasperation and anger. It was all he wanted them to find. "We want your mercenaries and in exchange we will let you live. How is that for a deal?"

Mal's eyes widened for a moment, eyebrows shooting up, but not with fear. "You don't understand the point of negotiating, do you?"

"I don't negotiate with scum like you," Loki hissed.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence and Loki liked to believe Mal was beginning to understand the gravity of his situation, only Mal suddenly burst with laughter, his head thrown back, his eyes squeezed shut. "You won't kill me," He said confidently once he stopped laughing and oh, Loki knew he was moments away from actually crushing him. "You need my men and they sure as hell won't follow you into battle after you've killed me."

"Then name your terms," Amora said with a tight voice, drawing Mal's gaze away from Loki and back to her. She turned her back to the window, the red sunlight folding around her, making her look taller and more beautiful, but not more intimidating, and Mal looked anything but frightened, his dark eyes showing only amusement. "What do you want? Power? Money?" Amora asked. "We could give you a lovely piece of land on Earth for you to rule, a beautiful island that–"

"I'm not going to send my men to their deaths for an island," Mal said. "I have an entire world here to play with."

Loki truly had enough of this. Mal was wasting time he didn't want to waste and he was pissing him off, showing no respect, or fear, which frankly, Loki felt he deserved. Slowly, without any brusque movements as not to draw any attention to himself, he moved to stand behind Mal, his fingers itching to hurt him, to break him, to destroy him, and that was exactly what he would do.

For one long second, Amora's confused gaze fell on him, wondering what the hell he was doing, but Loki paid her no attention. When he stood directly behind Mal, he placed both his hands on either sides of his face, feeling him tense beneath his touch, hearing his breath falter within his chest, and then he snapped his neck, the worthless crook not even having the time to scream or beg. He fell to the ground, dead, his brown eyes empty and his head twisted in an awkward angle.

Amora sighed, gaze fixed on the limp body of Mal. "Was that necessary?" She asked, obviously displeased.

"Will you miss him?" Loki asked sharply.

Eyebrows rising, Amora's green eyes filled with something akin to concern, but it didn't matter. Loki didn't care. "Of course not," She answered with a silky voice as she came to stand before him, one hand resting to the side of Loki's face, thumb stroking his cheek in what could be a loving manner if it weren't for the fact that it was Amora and Loki didn't think her capable of gentleness.

"Then who cares that I killed him?" He asked sharply.

Silence.

Amora's gaze pierced his. "What happened to you, Loki?" She asked softly. "You disappear for months and it turns out you've been with your brother and his mortal friends, but look at you now. You look more wrecked by their hand than you were by Thanos' hand."

Growling angrily, Loki shoved her hand away from his face.

"Are you jealous?" He asked, hoping he sounded as furious as he felt, though there was no denying that his heart was racing, that his hands trembled ever so slightly, because thinking of Thor inevitably led to thoughts of Tony, which weren't all that unpleasant, but they did remind him of everything he had lost, everything he wanted to lose. "Would you have preferred to see me ruined by your hand?"

"Always," Amora instantly said. Fingers grabbed his leather coat, pulling him closer while her other hand reached up to run through his raven hair, grasping at it ever so slightly. "It's always been you and me, my dear, for hundreds of years. We drift apart now and again, but somehow we always find ourselves in these kinds of situations again, don't we?"

"Do I hear sentiment? Nostalgia?" Loki asked. He could feel her warm breath on his face, smell her perfume, feel the soft curves of her body pressed against his, and he didn't push her away, because she was familiar, a constant in his life, someone that had always accepted him for who he was, who didn't care who he was.

"Perhaps," Amora smiled before closing the distance between them, her full, red lips against his, kissing him, and Loki let her. His eyes closed as he focused on nothing but the softness of her lips or the warmth of her skin as he placed his hands to the sides of her neck.

He needed her to help him forget.

-/-

Tony would never admit that in that moment, he shrieked like a little girl, so he was very grateful that there were no witnesses who could have heard him and he made a mental note to erase all video footage as well. Running toward the work bench by the wall, he grabbed the fire-extinguisher and hastily put out the small fire that had been caused by his god-stunner misfiring for some peculiar reason. He still hadn't gotten it to work properly and it was grating his nerves because he was Tony Stark and he wasn't supposed to struggle with an invention. Hell, he built his first suit in a dark, dank cave, but he couldn't get a weapon to work properly while he had all his toys at his disposal. Frankly, it was becoming humiliating.

"You're no help at all, Dum-E," He muttered as he smacked the crane-like robot that stood beside him. "Honestly, I don't know why I invented you in the first place." He realized he was talking to his machines again – a habit he couldn't get rid of – but he didn't care. They were the only company he craved at the moment.

Of course footsteps sounded on the stairs at that precise moment, and Tony groaned, not interested in getting pep talk like last time.

Turning toward the glass wall that gave him a good view of the stairs, he didn't find Steve coming down, but Thor which was rather unexpected, but Tony shouldn't feel so surprised really. With a sigh, because he had a faint idea of what was to come, he walked back to his main work bench where the god-stunner laid, the small device smoking slightly. Picking it up, he easily found the wire that had caused the short circuit and began to fix it, hoping that he wouldn't have to replace every single wire inside the gun.

The glass door opened, Thor walking in, his blue eyes landing on every machine and tool he could find, and Tony wondered if he even knew what everything was for. Then again, he often found himself underestimating the blond giant because he was smarter than most gave him credit for.

"Last time Steve came," He said, not bothering to look up at the God of Thunder. "Did he give you notes on how to get him out of this basement?"

Glancing up, he found Thor smiling ever so slightly, which he hadn't expected and it caused him to pause for a moment.

"I've not seen Steve in a few days," Thor said and while he was smiling, there was no amusement in his blue eyes. He picked up a small pistol-grip corded drill, studied it for a moment – Tony suspected he just liked to keep his hands busy – and placed it back down, his gaze finally focusing on Tony again.

"So no pointers, huh?" Tony asked. He sincerely hoped he sounded light and carefree, but he doubted he could fool Thor. After all, had he not locked himself in his basement again? Honestly, he was getting predictable and Tony reprimanded himself for it. "Say what you have to say, big man, because I'd Iike to focus on this little shit here that refuses to cooperate with me," He said, nudging the god-stunner.

Thor's gaze never wandered, never faltered. It remained locked on Tony who somehow felt violated because Thor's eyes were too bright, like they could see right into his head and read his thoughts, but they also looked too … empty. Only then did he realize that he was being a selfish dick who never bothered to think before he spoke, never bothered to think about anyone else really. Maybe Thor shouldn't be giving him a pep talk, perhaps it should be the other way around.

With a heavy sigh, Tony dropped down on the barstool behind the work bench, brown eyes focused entirely on Thor, trying to read him, to know what he was thinking and feeling, but the guy had a better handle on himself apparently.

"Do you hate him?" Tony found himself asking and again, speaking before thinking. He wanted to knock himself on the head.

"How can I hate him?" Thor asked. He moved closer toward Tony and took a seat at the other side of the work bench. "He is my brother."

"That's no excuse," Tony said, shaking his head. He watched as Thor picked up the god-stunner, studying it for a moment, and for the first time, he seemed to be actively avoiding locking gazes.

"Do you hate him?" Thor asked in return, still not looking up.

It frightened Tony that he couldn't instantly answer that question. He couldn't immediately say yes or no. It wasn't that clear, not that straightforward. He wished it was, but when was life ever that kind or easy?

"He's a runner," He found himself saying, honestly not having a clue how he sounded. Angry? Sad? Indifferent? No, probably not that. "When things get hard and difficult, he leaves, and I get how screwed up he feels, but I feel the same, yet I'm still here."

"Are you?" Thor asked, blue eyes suddenly rising to meet his and it left Tony momentarily startled and wordless. "We've not seen you in days. Loki might run, but you lock yourself away."

"Screw you, Thor," Tony snapped, snatching the device from his godly hands. He knew he might have made a mistake, he definitely knew he was overreacting, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "I tried. I'm still trying."

"Yes, you are working on a device you hope will stun my brother," Thor said, evenly staring into Tony's guarded eyes and, truly, it amazed Tony how he could say such things without sounding cruel or condescending. "And then what? You will drag him back here, force him to stay?"

Pressing his lips together, Tony placed the small device back on his work bench, grabbing a screwdriver and opening a small hatch that gave him access to a few more wires he needed to replace after it had gotten short circuited.

"Oh," Thor suddenly said, and Tony inwardly groaned. "It's not for Loki at all. It's for Amora."

"She's a threat," Tony said without looking up. "And I'm sure you'd like her sedated as you take her back to your golden kingdom you said you'd show us one time or another."

"And Loki isn't a threat?" Thor asked.

Oh, how Tony hated the God of Thunder at that moment. "Would you fight him?" He asked in return, anger beginning to build within him and he wasn't sure it had anything to do with Thor. Thinking about Loki just had that effect on him. "After everything that has happened, everything he went through, you would fight him?"

"My brother's rage sometimes gets the better of him," Thor stated, and Tony wasn't sure if he liked the way Thor could discuss these things so easily. Then again, Thor was probably more used to these kinds of situations. "If I must stop him, I will."

"Don't you get tired of it then, of losing him, getting him back, losing him again?"

"More than anything, I find it frightening," Thor admitted. It made Tony frown. "I never know when I'll lose him for the final time and I try to hope for the best, but this time … Well, it is different, isn't it?"

"I suppose," Tony sighed.

"I hope you get the device working," Thor said as he stood, that sad smile returning to his soft features. Tony didn't understand how Thor did it, how one time he could appear powerful and scary and ready to take down a villain with just one swing of his hammer, yet now he looked small and uncertain and almost … insecure. "You might be building it for Amora, but I have a feeling you might need it for Loki."

Tony didn't want to believe Thor was right.

-/-

Rolling her eyes, Amora rose from the couch, her blond hair falling over her shoulder as she straightened her long, red dress. "Can we not overreact, please?" She asked with a silky, yet razor-sharp voice. She moved to stand beside Loki who had forced the man to kneel before him, fingers gripping his collar, knife pressed against his throat. A few drops of blood were already rolling down. "We're here to make a deal, Loki, so can you not–"

"I don't like him," Loki interjected. His cold green eyes stayed entirely focused on the trembling man within his grip. Honestly, tears filled his eyes and Loki marveled at the sight. It had been a while since he'd had such control over a life, since he had frightened someone like this, and he could feel the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins because of it. For the first time, he felt awake, his mind cleared of that thick, poisonous fog that had been numbing and confusing him.

"You didn't like the previous one either," Amora sighed, not bothering to hide her annoyance. Her hand came to rest on Loki's shoulder as if to ground him back into reality, but Loki didn't bother to look at her, to pay her words any attention. "You snapped his neck while he could have given us what we needed. Now you don't like this one either."

"I can give you what you need," The man – an idiot called Alistair – said. He was a mortal, a weapons' dealer who liked to believe he could play with the big guys, but it turned out he was nothing more than a cockroach, and Loki hated cockroaches. "I can give you weapons, soldiers, magical relics, anything, just name it!"

"I don't think you can give me what I want," Loki said.

"I can try," Alistair replied. His frightened eyes shifted between Loki and Amora and when he swallowed heavily, the knife cut deeper into his skin. He whimpered, and Loki chuckled. He'd missed times such as these, though he wished Amora would join in. She used to be more fun.

"Could you get me the infinity gems?" He asked with a sly smile.

Alistair's breath faltered within his chest. "The what?"

"The infinity gauntlet then?"

Amora sighed heavily.

"I don't …"

"The Orb of Agamotto?"

A whimper. That was all Alistair could produce. A faint, pathetic whimper.

"I didn't think so," Loki said and without warning, he slipped the knife across Alistair's throat, blood instantly gushing from the wound, spilling all over Loki's hands and arms, staining his leather coat and green shirt. It was a mess, but Loki didn't care. He merely watched as the life literally drained from the mortal. He had always found it fascinating how mortals bled out so easily, so quickly, and he felt mesmerized by the idea that their deaths followed so swiftly, and Alistair wasn't an exception.

His already dull eyes widened in shock and pain and then he was dead.

Loki released his collar, the mortal falling back with a soft thump, blood pooling beneath him. He wiped the bloodied knife against his sleeve, cleaning it of the blood, uncaring that the mortal's blood covered him.

"That was unfair," Amora said. "One, hardly any mortal knows those items, and two, almost no-one can get their hands on them. You know well enough that they are locked away in your father's vault."

"But it was fun to see the look of terror in his eyes, wouldn't you agree?" Loki asked as he turned his head to find Amora staring at the dead mortal lying at their feet, her entire attitude uncaring of what had just happened, and when she finally met his gaze, she smiled, true enjoyment filling her light green eyes. She lifted a hand as to run it through his raven hair, but Loki stopped her, fingers curling around her wrist, catching it midair. "What are you doing?"

"You've changed," She smiled. "I quite like this new Loki, so whatever the Avengers did to you, I'm grateful."

He shoved her away until her back hit the wall, one hand folding around her throat, squeezing. Amora groaned and for the briefest moment, fear flashed before her eyes, but she was Amora and she didn't stay afraid for very long. The edges of her lips curled upward and Loki wanted to wipe that pleased, smug grin from her face, but he didn't.

Instead he found himself kissing her, hands moving down her body, gripping her dress and lifting it.

"You are getting his disgusting blood all over me," Amora muttered, somehow sounding slightly out of breath. Loki enjoyed the idea that he had such an effect on her.

Pressing his lips against the side of her neck, easily finding her racing pulse, he sucked a bruise into her skin. Amora produced the smallest moan.

"You like that," He said as her hands hastily moved to remove the belt from his leather trousers and he didn't stop her. No, he wanted this. Teeth sinking into her lower lip, Amora let out another small whine as she folded her legs around his waist, Loki's hands holding her up, pressing her against the wall.

"I was wondering … when it would come to this," She breathed.

"Oh, shut up," Loki snapped

Amora chuckled in response.

Loki's eyes fluttered shut when she sucked at that sensitive spot just below his ear, when her grip on his shoulders tightened as he entered her. She let out a shaky breath and Loki turned to look at her, green eyes staring into green, and he found himself back into the past.

He'd been there before and he couldn't believe he was doing this again, yet he didn't stop himself, because he wanted her, needed her.

He still wanted to forget, still wanted to feel nothing but his rage and his suffering, yet he lay on his mind. Loki was surrounded by Amora – by her touch, her smell, her warmth, but he only thought of Tony, and he hated himself for it.